#it might be 'pop' in the sense that it is 'popular' but at the end of the day

[bandzboy]

i think it's quite inaccurate to say kpop is a genre when in reality kpop is an industry and groups do different genres of music it's especially annoying when you are looking for the genre from a kpop group and it appears "kpop" and it's truly so vague like my brother christ that tells me nothing 😭

[willowsnook]

When Love is Left Unspoken

max verstappen x reader

she isn't you i'd be insane not to love you

request from @formulaal

Pt. 2 here

"Alright, one more question from the chat," you said into your mic, scanning for a good one. One caught your eye, and you began reading it aloud before realizing it would reveal something from your past. “Would you choose a guy over your best friend?”

Laughing humorlessly, you looked into the camera with a tight smile. “Anyone who’s been here for a while knows how relevant that question is to my life. But my answer hasn’t changed: if you’re choosing a romantic partner over your best friend, you can get fucked. Thanks for tuning in, everyone. See you around.”

Logging off, you grabbed your water bottle and headed to the kitchen to refill it. Checking your phone, you smiled at the stats from the stream—10k of your fans tuning in tonight was a big turnout. You’d gone viral on BookTok back in 2020, and now, your book podcast had a solid following. Normally, BookTok didn’t bring huge numbers, but thanks to your former best friend, your popularity had skyrocketed. As grateful as you were, his part in your success irritated you now.

Then a notification popped up on your screen, and you rolled your eyes.

MV: Nice stream.

You: Fuck off

MV: Glad I’m still living rent-free in your head.

You: Glad you got permission to text me.

You threw your phone down on the counter, boiling inside. Nobody got under your skin like he could, especially after 20 years of knowing exactly how to do it. Growing up, it hadn’t always been this way. At 10, you’d moved with your family to the Netherlands, right next door to the Verstappens. Max quickly became your best friend, your weekends spent watching him kart. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine things would end like this.

You met Kelly in 2018 at a race Max invited you to. Right away, you got weird vibes. She looked at Max like a toy she had to have. It was creepy, especially given the nine-year age gap. By 2019, they were dating, and she made it clear she didn’t like you, refusing to acknowledge your existence. That led to rocky times between you and Max; he always had excuses to avoid seeing you. When you were together, he seemed tense, as if being watched.

Everything fell apart in Australia 2021.

Flashback

Max invited you to the first race of the 2021 season, though you almost didn’t go. It felt obligatory, as if he invited you just because you’d never missed an opening race. You hadn’t seen him all winter, just exchanging quick holiday texts. Walking into the paddock, you felt a strange sense of finality, like this might be the last one.

Spotting Carmen outside Mercedes, you walked over and hugged her. As you stepped back, she looked worried.

“What’s up?”

She hesitated. “I thought you should know, Kelly’s been saying some nasty things about you around the paddock. No one believes her, but… I wanted you to know.”

“What is she saying?” you asked, heart sinking.

“She’s calling you pathetic, saying you’re still pining over your childhood crush and using Max to become an influencer,” she said softly, looking at you with sympathy.

“You’re joking,” you said, anger simmering. She shook her head.

“Can I be real with you?” She asked, and you nodded. “I love you and George loves you and honestly, everyone does. But I will accept not seeing you here anymore if you finally realize that Max is not being a good friend to you. And he hasn’t been for a long time.”

Eyes filling with tears, you let her words sink in. She was right, but admitting it was brutal. Maybe staying around him was just self-inflicted pain.

You found Max later, pulling him aside.

“I only have a few minutes, so make it quick,” he said, barely looking at you. Seeing him like this, you realized that the man in front of you wasn’t your best friend anymore.

“Your girlfriend’s telling people I’m a pathetic loser here to use you for fame,” you said, voice flat.

“I don’t believe that,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes.

“Really?” you laughed bitterly. “You don’t believe that from your girlfriend—the one who’s disliked me since day one?”

“Seems like you have something to say, Y/N. Just say it,” he replied, finally looking at you.

“There was a time in my life where I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live without you. But now I’m living it. Have the past ten years been nothing to you? All it took was an older woman to bat her eyelashes at you and that was it?”

He opened his mouth, but you cut him off.

“I’m not going to stand here and tell you that we had a good run and that I wish you the best. Fuck you. Fuck you for choosing her over me and fuck you for even letting it have to be a choice. I hate you.”

End of Flashback

That was the last time you had spoken to him. There were no texts or calls after that; his life just went on like normal while you felt like you were dying inside. You had thrown yourself into your work after that and now had over a million followers and subscribers to your podcast. You’d stayed friends with Carmen but hadn’t returned to a race since that day. You had tried to block the memory of that day from your mind, but when you were low, one thing always resurfaced in your mind. Kelly was right about you pining after your childhood crush. You had been in love with Max back then. How could you not be?

Then Carmen invited you to the Austin GP, and after much persuasion, you finally agreed. Thanks to your online following, you flew down with her, officially a Mercedes guest. Wearing Mercedes colors felt like poetic justice.

When you entered the paddock, a wave of nostalgia and sadness hit you. But it disappeared as you saw familiar faces you’d missed over the years.

"Y/N!" Alex called, arms open. Hugging him, you sighed, realizing how much you’d missed everyone. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too,” you admitted before greeting Lily, who gushed over your podcast and joked about being a guest. As you laughed with her, you noticed Alex subtly trying to block your view. Looking over, you saw Max walking by. He did a double take, but you turned back to Lily, ignoring his stare.

Later, as you waited for a coffee, you overheard Checo’s wife and Fernando’s girlfriend chatting.

“I heard Max and Kelly broke up,” Melissa said.

“Oh yeah, it’s been a few months,” Carola replied, shrugging. “Apparently, he was in love with someone else the whole time.”

You smirked. So Kelly finally experienced what it felt like to be second choice.

The race came and went, and you successfully avoided Max the entire weekend. You didn’t even think about the possibility of running into him when you accepted Carmen’s invitation to go out that night. George had actually wanted to go out, so you found yourself at a little country bar that night with what seemed to be the whole grid. You felt Max’s gaze the second you walked in, and you were doing a hell of a job ignoring him. Charles was trying to talk to him, looking confused between the two of you, but you didn’t care.

Ordering another gin and tonic you felt him come up next to you and you refused to look over.

“Put hers on mine,” Max said, handing over his card. You tried to leave, but he held out an arm to stop you.

“No ‘thank you’?” he teased, eyes intense.

You glared. “You can have it, then.”

“Stop being difficult,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You look good.”

“Can’t say the same about you,” you shot back, and his expression darkened.

He sighed. “Can we talk?”

“I said everything I needed to say three years ago. Have a good night.”

This time he let you go and you made your way back to Carmen who was looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You okay?” She asked, and you nodded.

A little while later, you were sitting at a table talking with Charles with Max hovering close by.

“Max, come sit down,” Charles slurred, and at this point, you were too tipsy to put up a fight about it. “Max is my best friend, ya know?”

“Ah yeah?” You asked head tilting. “Those words don’t mean much coming from him.”

Charles giggled, too drunk to understand what you meant and Max clenched his jaw looking at you.

“Insult me all you want schatje, as long as you’re talking to me I’ll take it,” he said and you didn’t say anything, just stared at him trying to figure out his angle.

“Is this the girl Kelly broke up with you over?” Charles asked and Max whipped his head towards him. “You always had a thing for her, so I told Alex that was my guess.”

Max’s face fell, and you froze. Shock turned into anger as you got up and stormed out. You felt Max following and soon he was in front of you, blocking your path.

“Come on,” he urged, leading you to a nearby park.

“Max, I don’t want to talk,” you said firmly, pulling away.

“I don’t care,” he replied, frustrated. “Tell me what I need to do to fix this.”

You laughed bitterly. “Crawling back because you got dumped? It’s too late.”

“It’s not like that.”

“You made your choice three years ago. Now live with it.”

“You want to know why we broke up?”

“I don’t really give a fuck,” you replied before turning to walk away.

“She isn’t you!” He yelled. Your legs stopped moving as your mind reeled.

Whirling on him you got into his face, “You don’t get to fucking say that to me. Not after all this time. Not after what you put me through. Not after you chose her over me. I was there the whole time Max. Me! I was there! It’s not my fault you didn’t realize that till I was gone.” 

“I realized it long before then,” he said softly, and you took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm yourself. Tears were starting to fall, and you looked everywhere but him. 

“Then why?” You whispered, voice cracking. 

“Because I wasn’t good enough for you,” he said laughing sadly to himself. “The pressure was starting to cave in back then and I didn’t want you to see that. I didn’t want to burden you.”

“You were my best friend Max,” you said exasperated. “I would have done anything for you.” 

“It’s easy to see that now,” he said. “But then you were so full of life and starting your little videos that I didn’t want to disappoint you. She understood what I was going through, but I never stopped loving you.” 

“Then why did you still push me away?” 

“I had to do that so that I could try and move on. She knew and she hated that there wasn’t anything she could do to change how I felt about you. I knew what she was saying about you in the paddock, and I knew why she was saying it.” 

His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and it felt like heartbreak all over again. “You knew and you let it happen. You are the worst person I’ve ever known Max Verstappen.”

He was crying now too and the two of you stood staring at one another not saying anything. 

“I would be insane not to love you,” he said softly and it made you cry harder. “So I will do whatever it takes for however long to make up for what I did.” 

He let you go again and you left him there, crying silently as you walked back to the hotel. So many emotions going through your mind paired with confusing feelings. 

Happiness for your 15-year-old self that has wanted to hear those words for so long. 

Sadness for your 21-year-old self reliving those memories. 

And anger at your 24-year-old self for considering letting him make it up to you. 

[galedekarios]

i'm reading a new interview tim downie gave about gale and it offers some of tim's own headcanons about gale, as well as tim's thoughts and insights on gale's character:

Nerds & Beyond: I like that you mentioned that the game is full of rounded characters because they are, they all have different aspects that make them feel real. I adore that Gale specifically is so serious and studious, but at the same time he has this really playful side — he often jokes about how he was a mischievous youth, he encourages other people like Arabella to do so, he understands when The Dark Urge first mentions their violent thoughts. There is a lot of nuance and depth there. But the quality that I love with Gale most is that obviously he is very ill when we first meet him – not that we know immediately – and he’s dealing with a lot of chronic pain. I find him incredibly selfless because he takes that day-to-day head on to help the party, which is an aspect I feel continues to show throughout the three acts. What’s your favorite quality of Gale’s, or what did you take away from him? Tim Downie: It’s so interesting hearing you say that, because I had so many different feedbacks about what people take from the character and sometimes things really surprise you. It’s interesting hearing that such and such has taken that particular aspect, because there are broad things like “He’s funny,” and that’s quite nice, that’s a nice trait, though not one you necessarily get to see that much. It’s so interesting hearing other people’s views about what they take from Gale.  The idea of dealing with chronic pain I found really interesting and an interesting subplot to play, and that was the great thing about doing something like this is that it is so unbelievably nuanced. You have so many layers that just keep going and going and going, as much as we all contain multitudes within ourselves. We all deal with these things, but only certain things pop up to the surface at any given point.  What did I take from Gale, though? I liked his studiousness. I would imagine that he was probably bullied as a kid for it, and he was probably a bit of a joker because he was bullied, and he uses that as a defense. But an even bigger defense for him is “I now know stuff that I didn’t before,” and that’s a power. It’s very similar to when you are being bullied and you’re the funny one – that’s your power, that’s your thing. “I may not be able to hurt you in a traditional sense, but I can say things that will make you feel pain,” which is a very different thing because you physically can’t go after them.  That’s the wonderful thing about acting and this character as well is being able to explore all these things that you might not have, that you might have gone, “I’m not gonna look at that again, I don’t want to deal with that,” and then it brings it up again and it’s like, “Oh, this is actually quite cathartic,” to re-explore these these moments of sorrow and loss and how you deal with grief and things like that and heartbreak and how you get over that.  It’s not all just tears, you do try and make a joke of it.

i really like that they are addressing the topic of gale's chronic pain. it's something that doesn't get addressed often, not even in the game itself.

i also found his answer as to why people might connect to gale very nice:

Nerds & Beyond: Gale is the most popular origin character to play as. What is it about him that you think allows so many different players to connect with him to the depths the fandom has? Tim Downie: I really don’t know. I think you’d have to ask the players that, ‘cause I don’t know, to be quite honest with you. He’s a wizard, and who wouldn’t want to be a wizard at the end of the day? I always say the difference between wizards and sorcerers is that sorcerers just pretend – they just assume they know what they’re doing, but a wizard has really learned this trade. And so there’s that kind of weight of knowledge and learning, which I would love to play as and be for a length of time.  I think it’s also the frailties. I like characters, and a lot of people do I’m assuming, that have flaws, otherwise you’ve made them completely unapproachable. To be completely superhuman or completely extraordinary at something then removes the humanity from it because it becomes like, “Well, that’s never gonna happen.” But when there’s a flaw, when there’s, “Oh, I’ve got that wrong, too,” or like, “My knees hurt” as you say, or “I’ve got a bit of a headache. I really don’t want to do this,” “You’re really annoying me, this is very annoying, could you please hurry up?” or “Stop licking the damn thing,” it’s always those moments that are fun because it shows what we’re all thinking at that point, it removes it from almost archetype and stereotype and it becomes human in a way.

gale is approachable and likeable, has flaws, but is genuinely nice. i think that very much sums up his character.

this bit here made me laugh:

Nerds & Beyond: When you’re talking about those different layers in the humanity building, I think one of the most important aspects in this game is the more “background” or passive dialogue, so dialogue that is prompted in the world and not in the cut scenes.  For instance — the first time I made Gale sneak he immediately complained about his knees, and it was such a real moment where he was just like, “Oh, don’t make me do this. This is not what I’m here for, I’ve got bad knees and I’m not made for this.” Did you have any of those background lines or moments that stick out as being particularly fun to craft?  Tim Downie: I remember the first time I ever had to do waiting, I found it infinitely interesting in so many ways. The idea that I did actually just have to wait and just actually, “Hmm…” Those little things I find really funny because they’re probably the closest to me that the character ever gets. His waiting mannerisms are kind of very English – slightly annoyed and I’m not going to show it to you though because we’re all being very nice, but I’ll do it with a huff and a slightly sarcastic, “Well, that’s great. Another 20 minutes. That’s great.” Those kinds of sentiments I found wonderful and incredibly fun, and funny, to do. 

if you want to read the whole interview for yourself, you can do so here!

[kira-dofc]

Bodyguard! Gojo x K-pop Idol Male reader

Part 1

Part 2

Notes: Sorry I was inactive for so long 😔 the Kuroo x male reader is killing me idk what to write so I js thought to myself what if I'd just made one for Gojo? Well anyways yes there's going to be a part 2 of this and yes I'm working on Kuroo 💖

Word count: 2400

Warnings: none 💖

-

Oh, to live a life like yours. You’re successful beyond measure, with a voice that can mesmerize, moves that can captivate, and a bank account that reflects your hard-earned fortune. But more than all of this, you are stunningly attractive. Fans fall to their knees at the mere sight of you, screaming your name with fervent adoration. Every world tour you embark on with your group sees you receiving the loudest chants, the most impassioned cries. You are undeniably the favorite, the center of attention in every sense.

Your popularity knows no bounds, transcending borders and cultures. Men and women alike would go to extraordinary lengths just to catch a glimpse of your perfect figure. Who wouldn’t? Perfection seems to be synonymous with your name. Every time your group makes a comeback, it is you who shines the brightest. The camera adores you, the spotlight gravitates towards you, and almost all of the lines in your songs seem to be crafted just for your voice. You are, without a doubt, the nucleus of your group’s immense success.

The world is in awe of you. Fanboys and fangirls from every corner of the globe idolize you, dream about you, and dedicate their lives to following your every move. Yet, amidst this whirlwind of fame and admiration, one thing perplexes everyone. Why, with all your perfection, are you still single? Any idol would be ecstatic to be with you, regardless of gender. Your charm knows no boundaries, and your appeal is universal. It’s a mystery that keeps fans up at night, fantasizing about the possibility of one day being the one to capture your heart.

Speculation runs rampant. Fans weave intricate fantasies where they imagine themselves by your side, filling the role of your perfect partner. Despite their daydreams, no one can figure out why you remain unattached. It's a paradox that adds to your allure, making you even more enigmatic and desirable. They imagine a million scenarios, all the while hoping that perhaps, just perhaps, they might be the one to break your spell of solitude.

But what the world doesn't know, what they couldn't possibly fathom, is that you've been in a relationship for almost two months now. The very day your group made its most recent comeback, you found yourself entangled in a romance that has brought a new kind of light into your life. The secrecy surrounding your relationship only adds to its intensity. It’s a connection built on mutual understanding, shared dreams, and a love that transcends the superficial adoration you receive from the masses.

The reveal of your significant other will be nothing short of earth-shattering for your fans. They’ve spent countless hours speculating about who could possibly be worthy of your affections. When the truth comes out, it will send shockwaves through your fanbase. The person you've chosen isn't just any idol; they are someone who matches your perfection, complements your strengths, and fills your heart in a way that no one else could.

In the end, the world will see that behind your flawless exterior, behind the spotlight and the chants, there is a person capable of deep, profound love. Your fans will be surprised, yes, but they will also come to understand that even someone as perfect as you deserves to experience the joy and intimacy of a genuine relationship. And as they daydream about marrying you, they'll have to come to terms with the fact that your heart already belongs to someone extraordinary.

-

4:00 a.m. The plane touched down, marking the penultimate stop of your extensive world tour. Just one more show remained before you could finally indulge in a well-deserved rest. You gathered your handheld bag, stepping off the aircraft with a sense of weariness and anticipation.

As you approached the "Arrivals" section of the quiet airport, you noticed the stark contrast between the calm you expected and the frenzy that awaited you. Despite the ungodly hour, paparazzi had gathered in droves, their cameras flashing incessantly, almost blinding you with their intensity. The cries of “Y/N! Over here! Y/N! Y/N!” pierced the early morning silence, mingling with the shouts of enthusiastic fans who seemed undeterred by the time.

You sighed, mustering a smile for the cameras. It was an experience you had grown accustomed to, yet it never ceased to astonish you how dedicated your fans were, even at such an hour. As you continued to navigate through the cacophony of lights and voices, your mind drifted to the comfort of the hotel room awaiting you.

Suddenly, the chaotic crowd shifted, and out of nowhere, a fan broke through, sprinting towards you with an intensity that caught you off guard. Your heart raced, but before you could react, your personal bodyguard, Gojo, intervened. He stepped in front of the fan with a menacing presence, his cold stare stopping them in their tracks. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said, his voice low and threatening.

The fan recoiled, visibly shaken by Gojo’s imposing figure, and quickly retreated back into the crowd. Gojo turned to you, concern etched on his face. "You okay, sir?" he asked, his voice softening as he etched a reassuring smile.

"Y-yes, thank you!" you stammered, bowing slightly as you felt a blush creep up your cheeks. You were grateful for his protection, though his proximity always seemed to make your heart flutter in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

A van soon arrived to transport you and your group to the hotel. The bodyguards formed a protective circle around you all, ensuring your safe passage into the vehicle. The drive was mercifully short, a brief 30-minute journey that allowed you a moment of respite from the relentless pace of your tour.

Upon reaching the hotel, the sense of exhaustion weighed heavily upon you. The events of the day had drained you more than usual, and all you could think about was the comfort of a bed. The receptionist greeted you with a polite smile, handing over the keycard to your personal room.

You thanked them and made your way to the elevator, your body moving on autopilot. The elevator doors closed, and you leaned against the wall, letting out a deep breath. The journey to your designated floor felt like an eternity, each second dragging as your mind wandered to thoughts of sleep.

Finally, the doors opened, and you stepped out, navigating the corridor to your room. You swiped the keycard, the door unlocking with a soft click. As you entered, you took in the serene ambiance of the room, a stark contrast to the chaos outside. The bed looked inviting, and you could almost feel the soft sheets against your skin.

You set your bag down and took a moment to appreciate the solitude. The tour had been exhilarating, but it had also taken its toll. As you prepared for bed, your thoughts drifted to Gojo’s protective presence and the fleeting moment of connection you felt with him. It was a small comfort amidst the whirlwind of your life, a reminder that even in the chaos, there were moments of genuine human connection.

Finally, you slipped under the covers, letting the exhaustion wash over you. The last thought before you succumbed to sleep was of the final show tomorrow and the promise of rest that lay just beyond it. The world outside could wait; for now, you were content to let the quiet embrace of sleep take you away.

'

You woke up with a sudden woozy feeling, your eyes reluctantly opening to the glow of the afternoon sun filtering through the curtains. "3:00 p.m.," you groaned, checking your phone for the time. You stretched, blinked, and smacked your lips as you stared at the blank wall in front of you, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep.

"Woof woof!" Your dog, Cherry, whom you managed to bring along despite the hectic schedule of your world tour, barked enthusiastically at you. He wagged his tail back and forth, jumping onto your lap with a joyful energy that brought a smile to your face. You patted his head, feeling the softness of his fur beneath your fingers. "Good morning, Cherry," you murmured, though it was well past noon. "Let's go. I'm so hungry..." You squeezed his cheeks affectionately before getting up and heading out of your room.

Before thinking about food, you decided to freshen up with a shower. Grabbing a towel from the neatly arranged drawer, you made your way to the bathroom. The hot water cascading down your body felt rejuvenating, washing away the exhaustion from your travels and performances. You stood there for a while, letting the steam envelop you, a rare moment of peace in your otherwise hectic life.

Once you were done, you dried off and rummaged through your luggage, looking for something comfortable to wear. Settling on a plain shirt and a pair of black jogging pants, you felt a sense of relief. The casual attire was a stark contrast to the elaborate costumes you wore on stage, and it felt good to just be yourself for a while.

With two days until your next concert, you decided to take it easy and rest. You picked up your phone and thought about how to pass the time. An idea struck you—why not do a livestream on Instagram? It had been a while since you connected with your fans in such a direct way, and it seemed like a good way to unwind.

Setting up the livestream, you watched as the viewer count quickly climbed, reaching 15,000 and still rising. "How's your day?" you read aloud from one of the comments. "Nothing much really, I'm just soooo tired," you chuckled, scrolling through more questions. The familiar 'will you marry me Y/N' and 'are you dating anyone' questions popped up, causing you to smile wryly. It was flattering, but also a bit overwhelming.

"Y/N, what do you think of Kim Chaewon?" another question asked. You raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. "Hmm, she's nice, I guess. Also, if this is one of your guys' traps, I'm not falling for those anymore." You stared into the camera, your fans admiring you through their screens.

As you continued to interact with your fans, you suddenly heard the sound of your door opening. A wave of panic washed over you. Had someone broken in? How could they have gotten past security? You had sworn you locked the door. Your mind raced with possibilities.

The door opened wider, and you saw a white-haired man kneeling, putting his shoes away. "Babeeee, what do you want to eat? Do you want to get it delivered, or do you wanna go out?" His voice was casual, but it sent a shock through you. You gasped, trying to quickly turn off the livestream, but it was too late.

The comments exploded in a frenzy:

"BABE?????"

"WHO IS THAT 😭😭"

"HE'S DATING SOMEONE!?!?!?!?"

"IT SOUNDS LIKE A GUY"

"OMGGGGGGGGGGGGG"

"WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT BABE MEAN???"

You panicked, letting out a little squeal as you finally managed to turn off the livestream and shut your phone. "GOJO!" you screamed, your heart pounding in your chest.

"What?" he replied, looking at you with a mix of confusion and amusement.

-

"What do I do? What do I do? What do I do..." You paced back and forth, muttering the same words over and over, your mind racing. Gojo watched you, a smirk playing on his lips.

"You know, it's not half as bad," he said finally. "People will know that you're my property from now on."

"Still! I never wanted them to find out this way..." you sighed, collapsing onto the couch beside him. The weight of the situation settled over you, a mix of anxiety and resignation.

"It'll be okay. No matter what, I'm always with you." He reached out, touching your chin gently before pulling you into a hug. You hugged him back tightly, the comfort of his embrace grounding you.

"Thanks..." you whispered, feeling a sense of calm wash over you despite the chaos that had just erupted.

After a moment, you pulled back, determination in your eyes. "I need to do this right," you said. "I'll post a confession about us dating. It's better than letting rumors spiral out of control."

Gojo nodded, his expression serious. "Whatever you decide, I'm here for you."

Taking a deep breath, you picked up your phone, opening your Instagram app once more. You composed a heartfelt post, explaining how you had been dating your bodyguard, Gojo, for a while and how much he meant to you. You acknowledged that the livestream slip-up wasn't how you wanted to reveal your relationship, but you hoped your fans would understand and support you.

As you hit 'post', a sense of relief washed over you. It was out there now, and there was no turning back. You and Gojo sat together, waiting for the inevitable reactions. Notifications started flooding in almost immediately, a mix of shock, support, and a few inevitable negative comments. But overall, the response was more positive than you had expected.

Your fans, though surprised, expressed their happiness for you, many of them emphasizing their continued support no matter what. It was a heartwarming realization that even in your highly publicized life, there were people who genuinely cared about your happiness.

You turned to Gojo, a smile playing on your lips. "Looks like we're officially out in the open now," you said.

He grinned back, squeezing your hand. "About time," he replied. "Now, about that food—I'm starving."

You laughed, the tension easing from your shoulders. "Let's get something delivered. I think we've had enough excitement for one day."

As you placed the order, you felt a sense of peace. The world knew about your relationship, and while it wasn't how you planned, it felt good to no longer hide. With Gojo by your side, you knew you could face whatever challenges came your way. And with a concert in two days, you had plenty to focus on. But for now, you were content to enjoy a quiet evening together, knowing that no matter what, you had each other.

[feroluce]

Oh my gosh the way the Pop-Up Shop event ended and what it hinted at that's going on rn, and what it might imply about what's in store for the next time we see Sampo, I'm so excited AAAAAAA

Because it seems it really IS our Sampo, and whereas before I was absolutely delighted by the thought that he was possibly getting fucked with by some outside influence, and that was why he was saying such strange things... There's nothing quite like that going on here. There's no memetic virus messing with his head. There's no imposter, no possession, no nothing.

Just Sampo, and the ominous, all-consuming dread that hangs over his head like a guillotine, as he willingly walks right into what he is sure is a trap. ♡

Because this event was weird right off the bat, yeah? Sampo invites us in on a business deal that won't make him any money? The hell???

And I was just waiting on pins and needles for it to make sense, and oh, I was not disappointed at all. Because I've got a nice meta post about it over here, but Sampo actually DOESN'T make a lot of money most of the time- but he does always get something out of his dealings. He works for favors and good will and networking, but never for nothing. And it was the same here!

Sampo didn't make any money with this little business venture because that wasn't what he needed from it. That was never his goal to begin with. He just needed something entertaining.

Sampo has the key to get into the tavern's basement where Sparkle has been keeping his mask for him, but he still needs to be let into the front door of the tavern itself. The fun stories he got from this event were his entry fee. He leaves at the end because he's probably already on his way to Epsilon, where the World's End Tavern should be.

So that explains part of what was so strange this event. It's the rest of his ooc tendencies that have me like foaming at the mouth though because AAAAAAAAAA

There's long been hints of...some? kind of strain between Sampo and the rest of the Masked Fools. Like it starts all the way back in Belobog's main quest with the big infamous fourth-wall breaking sequence, where Sampo talks some shit.

And it continues in the Aetherium Wars event, where we finally get the confirmation that Sampo is a Masked Fool and even get to see him interact with Giovanni, one of his brethren! And where Sampo talks more shit. He also leaves the trailblazer a warning against Sparkle, who they hadn't met yet, and probably the Masked Fools in general.

And for some strange reason, it seems to be popular fanon that Sampo like. Talks a lot of shit? Or is rude in general? Like I feel like I see a lot of jokes about if Hook says a cuss word, it was probably his fault. But Sampo is actually pretty polite with everyone. I think the only time we really see him be harsh is when he has to set some hard boundaries in the museum event. Otherwise, he conducts himself like a model friendly businessman. Like he IS super shady and slimy, but he's still polite about it. I'm pretty sure the only time he actually talks any shit, and so bluntly, is about the Masked Fools or Epsilon as a whole. He really seems to have some sort of beef with them.

There's also his hilarious relationship with Sparkle, which I'm including for consideration because we don't know how common people like her are in the Masked Fools, so she might represent how Sampo interacts with a lot of them. ...But I'm pretty sure Sampo's grudge with her runs deeper than that anyway jdksajfdkljas

She's so funny I hope she fucks with him more FJDKSJAKD

Anyway, the point is, Sampo doesn't seem to see eye-to-eye with a lot of the rest of Aha's followers. And it was never hinted at before the pop-up shop event, but now I'm wondering if it might be like. An actual dangerous sort of situation.

Because during those brief packaging sequences, you get some. Pretty wild text dropped on you. There was actually a really cool explanation for it by another user already! But basically, all of the phrases are more fourth-wall breakage. They're mostly in-game achievements...except for one.

"This must be a trap create"

We never get to see the rest of the phrase. Just "This must be a trap create."

That is the only one we don't have an explanation for yet, at least as far as I know.

AN EDIT: Thank you to @/kittaykattz for this one, because it looks like someone DID find the source of this line. Unfortunately, it only came up in my search after I looked for the full phrase. I couldn't find it on the wiki before orz And yet this somehow does NOT make it any less ominous ajfdklsjkl The full phrase is "This must be a trap created by a Masked Fool!" and it comes from another in-game achievement, "Boxes and Ladders." Which is really cool, because I had figured the last line must be something from Penacony, since it was the only area not represented so far. So in that way, it fits perfectly with the rest of the text. Now we have one achievement from every area of the game, which fits with the theme that Sampo has been following the Astral Express, the trailblazer specifically. It's the way that it doesn't fit that's the weird part though. Because the rest of the lines that come from in-game achievements are all titles; that's why they were so much easier to find. For some reason, Hoyo saw fit to single this one out. They didn't use a title. They specifically chose the line about falling into a trap set by a Masked Fool, a trap with seemingly no way out, where one's only choice is to take a leap of faith and pray to make it out ok in the end.

Love that. Absolutely love that. That's so fucking tasty, I will be daydreaming for days on end now about Sampo finding himself in a horrible situation with no way out where all he can do is make a desperate attempt and pray to whatever might listen (probably not Aha fjaksljdk) that he'll survive it WHEEEEEE

Because Sampo talks so strangely throughout the whole event, but it gets worse day by day, morose and morbid and dreading and sometimes even almost like he's warning the trailblazer against something about to happen.

I've already lovingly discussed it in an analysis about Sampo's name (alias included) but like. There certainly are some fun connections there. The Sampo of myth was smashed and lost to the sea. Poisson was flooded. Brueghel died suddenly and left a final painting of a storm at sea unfinished.

The Masked Fools are referred to with imagery of water and the sea. And frequently so.

And so I do wonder what Sampo knows, and what he's expecting to happen when he gets to that tavern at the end of the world. If maybe he thinks he's walking right into a trap, and is doing it willingly, doing it anyway, because, well.

Belobog is on the line.

And Sampo has already proven he seems so ready to do whatever it takes to protect it.

[momtaku]

Thoughts on the Attack on Titan Musical

tl:dr; It's been two weeks but I am still not over it.

When I posted the photo of myself holding the playbill of the Attack on Titan musical the most common reaction was "WHAT???", so I guess some background might be good to start with.

Yes, the Attack on Musical is a thing. It was first performed in Japan in January 2023 with shows in Osaka and Tokyo. When it was announced that a second run of the musical would include New York City, I pounced on tickets.

See, it's real! This is my video of the closing number. We were allowed to record this.

The New York run was at the New York City Center which seats about 2200 people. There were a total of 4 shows the weekend of Oct 12. I attended the Saturday matinee. The style of this production is known 2.5D, and is incredibly popular in Japan. I did some checking and this is the first time a 2.5D anime adaptation has appeared outside of Asia. Did Attack on Titan work as a musical?

Surprisingly yes, although I think anyone who wandered in off the streets would've been thoroughly confused. The themes that attracted most of us to the series translate wonderfully to the stage, and despite knowing the story well, they managed to make it feel fresh. Carla's death, for instance. When she realized she was trapped and facing certain death, her song to Eren and Mikasa was a children's lullaby about survival. That portion of the manga always hit me hard, but the desperation, horror and love set to a lullaby? Damn it musical, you made me cry.

The original scene of Hange leading a Titan Biology class might be my favorite of the entire show. The actor who played Hange was the perfect amount of unhinged and delightful as they dance across the table while the 104th answered a pop quiz. (And yes to "they" since the playbill specifically mentions that the actor in the role was known for her portrayal of nonbinary characters.) It was genuinely hilarious.

The musical covers the first 11 chapters of the manga, stopping in the "Struggle for Trost" arc, where the plan for Eren to plug the hole in the wall was conceived but not yet executed. I remember reading that portion of the manga years ago and feeling that same sense of optimism. So the musical ends on a high. Humans finally have a way to win against the titans, It felt like a strange place to end, knowing what ultimately happens in the story, so I wondered if the intention is for a part 2 musical adaptation.

(btw, the staging of "can you plug the hole" had Eren and Levi kneeling closely on the floor together with a manly shoulder clasp looking earnestly at each other. It had me looking at my very ereri friend with raised eyebrows. It was for sure her favorite moment.) What was the performance like?

The short run 2.5D musicals don't have the polish or production budget of a true broadway musical, but it was still wildly entertaining. Since the director is known for breakdance and hiphop, there was plenty of that. The dance numbers were fun. The songs were catchy.

Rather than try to describe it, here's a TikTok review that shows off the 3dmg, the titans, and that two minute head spin that no one could shut up about.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by mixed feelings (@mixed.feelings)

Also, the cast could not have been for perfect. I mean LOOK AT THEM!

From this tweet

Who was in attendance?

As I mentioned before, this was a first in many ways so it attracted people from all over the world. While I was opening my blind box items, I met a group older women from Japan who'd travelled to New York from Tokyo and had purchased tickets to every single NY performance. Their English wasn't great, and my Japanese is nonexistent, but what surprised me the most wasn't their dedication to the show, but that they seemed genuinely surprised to see me. I don't know if that was because I too am an older fan like them, or if they weren't expecting equally passionate westerners at the show but I tend to think it was both. I suspect the Japanese fandom has no idea how big this series is outside of Japan, or that it attracts such a diverse audience.

My podcast partner Luna was sitting next to two women who'd flown in from California. They knew nothing about Attack on Titan but were fans of the actor who played Eren. Since it was his first time performing outside of Japan, they came solely to see him.

On my flight home was a 22 year old wearing an Attack on Titan musical t-shirt. We started talking and I learned it was his first time in New York, his first time seeing a broadway musical, and his first time traveling alone. He just loves the series that much.

In general the audience was much younger than what you'd normally see at a broadway show and 100% more excited. Plenty of people were in cosplay or else wearing Attack on Titan clothing. The atmosphere was insane.

My merch haul

The mug and t-shirt sold out before the second show so I was glad I was there early to snag them. The playbill is selling on Mercari for almost $50. Sadly my poster didn't survive the trip home. It cracked in about 50 places.

Did you do anything else in NYC

Aside from hanging out with so many of my favorite people, the Kodansha Popup House was going on. It was incredibly cool.

We met up with James from the Titan Teatime podcast. I think the plan is do a joint podcast in a few weeks to get everyone's thoughts . I'll post more about that if it actually happens.

Final Thoughts

Rumor has it that the show's successful New York run could mean it will branch out further. If it goes to London, nothing will stop me from being there. It was that much fun, and I can't wait to share the experience with my European friends.

[gothicchildofthenight]

Dead-Bird

FEM DNI‼️ (She/her, She/they, etc.) - you’ll be blocked.

request: “hihi ! can you write rodrick x ftm reader thats just like , treated as one of the guys in rodricks friend group and has a sense of belonging , then heather outs the reader or something n rodrick stands up for them (???) im not sure where im going with this request u can interpret it however u want”

summary: moving to plainview for a fresh start while you’re transitioning. you meet rodrick heffley, resident emo, and become inseparable. what happens when heather hills gets jealous thats he’s turned all his attention on you?

descriptions: ftm!reader, intended for a black reader but can be read by any race, rodrick might be ooc (??), i made heather really mean (and homophobic 😭) but in reality i have no hate to her HER ACTRESS IS GORGINA, slur drop (f word), maybe the reader a girly kid sorry if that upsets anyone, cursing, throwing up (only happens once and i don’t think it’s detailed), let me know if i missed anything!!

a/n: yall, i know i said friday, but circumstances change (especially when baby siblings are sick asf) so i’m sorry. you’re allowed to yell at me in the comments!! BUT ITS FINALLY HERE‼️ pls let me know if you like it, and if you think i should change anything. i can always improve!!

word count: 8.29k (i got carried away 😭)

———————————————————————————-

For as long as you can remember, you knew you didn’t feel right with who you were. You wore the dresses, the skirts, joined the girls line when you were split off and you were ok with it, but it never felt right. You wanted to get your hands dirty, skin your knee, and you could do all of that with the girls, but you wanted to do it with the boys.

Your parents seemed to acknowledge this and your family just labeled you a tomboy. It wasn’t until your last year of middle school that you realized who you were, what you were. You were a boy, you were trans.

After going back and forth with yourself, you go to your parents with tears streaming down your face. With the way you and your parents were raised, it didn’t seem like they were going to be accepting.

“Are you done blubbering?” Your mom had asked you, which made you cry even more because you didn’t know if that could be good or bad. “We knew this could be a possibility with you just wanting to be with little boys.”

“Just because your grandparents have a skewed perspective on gender doesn’t mean we do.” Your dad joined in with a hand on your shoulder.

And with that started your transition journey. First with therapy, then doctor visits, and finally testosterone. When you started taking testosterone (end of sophomore year), you and your parents moved to give you a fresh start. With their careers, they could work anywhere as long as they could travel.

Plainview was just that, plain, but it got the job done so you can lay low. You couldn’t even point it out on a map, but it seemed like a great place to get a fresh start. Family homes, mom and pop shops, and maybe 6 schools around. No one knows you, seeing as you moved almost cross-country, so perfect.

Your first day wasn’t anything like you imagined. You thought you would be clocked immediately, especially since in the rush to move and get enrolled in school you had forgotten to get your haircut. You lucked out though, because the only reason someone (besides a teacher) came to talk to you was because of your Pearl Jam shirt.

That was the day you met Rodrick Heffley, resident “bad boy” with a band that wasn’t shit (you could say that seeing as you were in it) and a taste for rock and metal. That’s who came to talk about your shirt.

“You listen to Pearl Jam?” He asked, and you were immediately on the defense.

You knew you didn’t exactly look the part of emo metalhead, you had heard it your whole life growing up. “Listen to your normal music,” was a common one, and you won’t lie, it hurt. Especially from the popular white kids because it was just another tally mark against you.

“Yes? What about it?” You snapped.

“Woah, didn’t know I touched a nerve,” his face had reddened a little, but besides that it didn't change. “I was just gonna ask your favorite song.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes. “I like Why Go from the Ten album.”

“Cool, cool, that’s a good one.” And then you both just stood there staring at each other. “Do you want to come over to my house after school?”

“I don’t even know you, kid,” you chuckled, “what are you, a kindergartener?”

“Well excuse me for trying to be nice.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m Rodrick.”

He held out his hand, which you hesitantly shook. “I’m (Y/N).”

“So are you coming over or what?”

And just like that he became one of the most important people in your life– along with his best friends; Drew, Ward, Chris, and Ben. Present day, you are never without Rodrick, and he, you. It doesn’t take a lot to convince the other to do something you probably shouldn’t, which leads to you guys getting in trouble a lot.

Like how one time towards the end of junior year in the middle of the night, Rodrick and you snuck out for a carnival almost 2 hours away. You had been relaxing at home, reading, when you heard little tinks coming from your window. You knew it was Rodrick throwing rocks at your window. He always did that when he’d sneak out of his house to come to yours.

“What the hell do you want?” You jokingly whisper-yelled as you opened your window.

“Come to a fair with me!” He whispered back.

“Last time I checked, the summer fair didn’t come until after school ended?”

“Because it’s not the one in Plainview, it’s the one in Huntington! Just come on!” He groans.

“First of all, I’m in pajamas!” You motioned up and down yourself. “Second of all, that’s almost two hours away!”

“So what, you’ve snuck out with me before! What makes this time any different? Come on, (Y/N), live a little!”

“Fuck it, fine!” and you closed your window to change. Your parents were long gone asleep, so you doubt they’d check on you, meaning you were in the clear.

You settled on baggy pants and a short sleeve, which is what you almost always wear, before you jumped out your window (you were on the second floor, yea, but your house wasn’t that big so it wasn’t a huge jump). Rodrick was waiting in his van, so you climbed into the passenger seat and set off.

You took a mini nap on the way, but after you woke up, you guys didn't shut up. From school to new albums, you talked about it all. You guys always were like this, (still were) even though at this point you’d only known each other a couple months. It scared you a little, how close you two had gotten in such a little period of time, mainly because you don’t want him to drop you because of who you were before.

“We’re here!” He pulled into a parking spot. You both climbed out of the van and met in front of it. “You brought your wallet, right?”

“Hanging with you? Of course not.” You deadpanned, before pulling out your wallet with a smile. “Why would I go to a fair without my wallet?”

He just rolled his eyes, slung his arm around your neck and walked to the ticket booth. Once in the fair, you guys set a plan to leave around 2:00 so you can get back in time for school.

You run around together, ride to ride, concession stand every chance you can get, and then barfing into a trash can. “I will never sneak out with you again.”

“Sure, ok,” Rodrick scoffed. “Come on, I want to ride the ferris wheel before going home!”

“Sure,” you rolled your eyes as you wiped your mouth, “just let me finish tossing my organs into this dumpster.”

“Let's go, smart ass.”

Surprisingly, there wasn’t a long line for the wheel. You’re on it in 5 minutes, and at the top in another 5.

“Told you it was worth it.” Rodrick teased as you looked out to the neon fair lights.

“Yea, yea, whatever,” you mumbled, too busy looking out at the eye widening view.

There’s a moment of silence. “Y’know, I’m glad we met each other.”

“Ew, don’t get all sentimental on me. Especially on a ferris wheel, that's just cringey.” You joke.

“I’m being serious!” He sighs. “Like I love the band, but I think me and you got closer in the span of a few months than me and them since middle school. It’s crazy.”

“Yea, sure, ok, dude,” you look back out to the lights. You couldn’t look him in the eyes because you had this warm feeling in your gut that you couldn’t place.

Rodrick doesn’t allow you to, though, as he grabs your face in one hand to make you look at him. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I want you to say it,” he stares into your eyes, seeming to search for something.

“Say what, jackass?” You feel your face catch on fire in the dark of the night.

“That I’m your best friend.” He looks so serious, and his eyes never leave yours.

“You’re my best friend,” you roll your eyes with a grin, “can you let me go now?”

“We’ll work on it.” He pats the side of your face and then faces the lights outside the wheel.

When you're both off the ferris wheel, you’re headed back home. The car ride home was silent, you in your own head and Rodrick seemed tired. You offered for him to stay over and sleep until school starts, but he declines, knowing his parents will wake him up in the morning.

You pull up to your house but just sit there for a second. “It was a bunch of fun, as always. Til we sneak out again.”

“See ya,” he smiles and lightly punches your shoulder.

“See ya, dude,” and you head to your house.

When you see him pull off, you lightly close your front door. As you turn around, your soul leaves your body.

“I don’t even want to know,” your mom holds her hand up to silence you. “Phone, now.”

You sigh, but do it.

It seemed that’s what happened with Rodrick, too, so for the rest of the school year you and Rodrick could only contact each other at school. He still snuck over, that wasn't going to stop.

You don’t regret leaving with him that night, because you had never had someone willingly be that close to you.

—

Currently, you’re all huddled up in the hot attic that is his room, but it was the only place without younger kids so you don’t complain much.

“Dude, I thought this year was gonna be it!” Rodrick complains as he lays upside down on his bed.

“Oh, it’s gonna be it, alright,” Ben rolls his eyes and throws a paper ball in Rodricks direction. “It’s going to be the year I finally strangle you if you mention Heather Hills one more time.” We all chuckle at how true it was.

Right now, he wouldn’t shut the fuck up about Heather Hills. Even though you had come in the middle of junior year, it was quick knowledge that he had a crush on her since middle school. At first it was cute, but after some unforeseen circumstances, you actually hated hearing her name. It wasn’t like you had a crush on him (It was), but the fact that she didn’t give him the time of day, and even when she did it was just to make fun of him or to have him do something.

“I second that, it’s fucking annoying,” you push him off the bed, seeing as you were on it right next to him.

“Ow, you dick!” he sits up and rubs his head.

“We’re, like, four months from graduating, if she wanted you, she would’ve said it.”

“Yea but-” Ward cuts him off.

“But nothing, bro, she don’t want your ass.”

It’s what you’ve been telling him this whole time, but you didn’t want to be too pressed about it because you didn’t want him to think you like her. You didn’t like her, you liked the one who liked her. You hadn’t realized it until you saw Heather sweetening him up one time and it hurt to watch– and not in a disgusted way.

You had no idea about your sexuality, you knew you liked boys even before you transitioned, but as you became more comfortable with yourself girls weren’t so bad either. You had been on a few dates with mostly girls (there weren’t many out guys in a small town, who knew?), but no one was Rodrick.

“I mean, I know, subconsciously,” he points to his head, “but she has this way of being in your head, no matter how mean she is.”

“Blah blah blah, bruh we don’t caaaarreee!” You roll your eyes and fall back on his bed. “She’s probably going to, like, Harvard or some shit and gonna marry rich. She doesn’t have time for loser guys like ourselves unless we can do something for her. It’s been that way since middle school, and it’ll be that way til the end of time”

“Major harsh, dude,” Drew pipes up.

“Whatever,” You get up and grab your backpack. “I’m going home, see you bozos tomorrow.”

You know why it bothers you so much, but you didn’t think you went that far. Hell, even Ward said something, but you were the one who was being “major harsh”? You roll your eyes as you stomp off to your house.

“Major harsh, my ass,” you murmur to yourself.

—

Tomorrow comes faster than you’d like. It wasn’t like you blew up on the guys, but you were pissed that you had been shut down. You kind of wanted to avoid them and go straight to class, but when you exit your house you see Rodricks van. The ride to school was pretty quiet except for the “good morning,” you all exchanged amongst yourselves.

“You were right,” Rodrick nudges you. When you give him a confused look, he goes on, “Heather is never gonna want me, and I’m taking myself off the market for other babes.”

“Oh, all those poor girls, saved,” you chuckle. Now you kind of feel bad, “but seriously, my bad if I went too far with what I was saying. I don’t have an excuse for what I said, but I am sorry.”

“Nah, I needed that good kick in the ass so I could wake up. Thanks, bro.” He playfully punches your shoulder.

“No problem, bro.”

As we pull up to school, you see Heather and her friends around their red convertible bug. You didn’t know whose it was, it was passed around more than a blunt in your group. Every morning they were there, and every morning Rodrick went to talk to them, talk to her, like clockwork.

“So are we skipping today, boys?” Rodrick suggests.

In a unison of ‘Hell Yea’s, you were the voice of reason. “Fuck no.”

They all groan, as they usually do when you’re right. We’re walking away from the van as you explain, “Y’all don’t have enough brain cells or credits to afford to skip. If yall want to blow this place, ya gotta graduate. You don’t even have to have honors.”

“Whatever, nerd,” Rodrick shoves you with a chuckle. “You can be a suck up and stay all day, but we’re outta here.”

“You can suck up on my balls, jackass,” you laugh and shove him back.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” he shoves back.

“You’d love that!” but you don’t push him, you look in front of you.

You expected to see the red car, but you saw the stairs. You had passed the car?

You look behind you, and you still see the group talking about someone cheating on someone’s boyfriend, but you notice Heather Hills looking at you.

This wasn’t the first time Rodrick had ignored Heather for you, but that was at lunch. He always talked to her in the morning. You don’t know why, but you knew that this was her last straw.

When you had first moved here, you weren’t on her radar until you had talked to him. She was just standing off to the side and you didn’t realize it then, but he was just talking to her and stopped to talk to you. You could feel her glare, but when you looked at her she gave you a sugary sweet smile. That wasn’t the last time you would see that fake smile, but after this morning you knew it would be.

—

“I don’t know what you told him, but you need to untell him.”

The voice wasn’t unfamiliar to you, but you weren’t used to it being directed at you.

“Hi, Heather, how are you on this beautiful day?” You smile at her, though it was probably closer to a grimace.

“Cut the shit, you heard me.” She growls as you put your stuff in your locker.

“Why does it have to be me saying anything to him? Maybe he actually grew some balls and a brain.”

“You’re like a lost puppy around him, of course you said something.”

“Well, Heather,” you huff as you drop your bag and face her, “he used to follow you around like a lost puppy and I got sick of it because you were using him. I don’t know why it bothered me so much, but it did, so I told him that.”

“I know why,” she leans closer to your face with a whisper. “It’s because you’re a gay little bitch who hopes he looks in your direction but he wouldn’t even spit near you. I see how you look at him, but just remember he looks at me like that.”

“Ok,” you roll your eyes. “Why do you care so much? You admitted several times that you don’t like him.”

“He needs to like me, not the other way around. It gives other guys the idea that they can be with me and I can get gifts out of it. So if you don’t fix this, I can get so much dirt on you it’d make your head spin.”

“I think the bleach fumes are finally getting to your brain,” you scoff, trying not to seem nervous. You didn’t think that she could get to your secret, but that bitch has power in high places. But you had come so far without being outed, so you didn’t think it’d happen this close to your escape. “I don’t know what to tell you. I’m not gonna do that because you’re a bitch who doesn’t deserve any attention.”

She slams your locker in your face, “You’ll regret that.” And as she walks away you roll your eyes and mumble a “bitch”.

She doesn’t even want him, but I can’t have him? Whatever, bitch.

—

You decided to keep your little interaction from Rodrick and the gang because you knew it’d open up a) what she could find on you and b) did Heather actually like Rodrick and she’s lying? You just let them lead the conversation as you try to rationalize with yourself.

How would she find out your trans? You’ve been stealth for a year and your school medical records are locked up tight. She can’t out anything but you being gay and even that was a little chest tightening. At least you’ll still be a man, even if it was a gay one. Being outed as trans could shatter people’s perception of you and you’ll be that weird “girl” again.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” Rodrick asks you and you realize you’re the only two in the van now.

“Nothing, just exhausted. I need to be asleep right now,” you pretend to rub your eyes.

“Whatever you say, dude,” he sighs, but puts his hand on your shoulder and looks you in the eyes. “I’m here whenever you wanna talk, you seem to have a lot on your mind.”

It makes you freeze. It’s not like he isn’t always like this, he’s your best friend, but it doesn’t help after your conversation with Heather. He does this with every guy in the group, he may put on a front of being a dick to his brother, Greg, but he really cares for his friends. You have to convince yourself that this was just that, nothing more.

“Eyes on the road, weirdo,” you shrug his arm off with a nervous laugh. “I told you I was fine, I’m just tired.”

“Ok, dude,” he rolls his eyes.

Before you know it, he drops the rest of the guys off at their houses. You’re usually the last one to get dropped off since more often than not you’re the first one to be picked up. But when Rodrick passes your house, you have more than a few questions.

“Where the hell are you taking me?” You sigh.

“Obviously you won’t tell me what’s actually wrong, so we’re going to hang out til that frown turns upside down!” He smiles as he passes his house, too.

“How did I become friends with such a cornball? Aren’t you supposed to be the resident bad boy, go back to that.”

“You know you love me,” he smirks.

More than you know, that’s the reason I’m in this mess! You almost say, but stick with, “Sure, whatever you say.”

You know exactly what he’s going to do, you guys do it every time one of y’all are going through it. Head to the gas station to get slushies and snacks, then go out to your favorite clearing in the woods. He even does it with Greg sometimes, even though he likes to act like he hates his younger brothers.

“Isn’t the point of a slushy to mix all of the flavors together?” Rodrick rolls his eyes.

“We have this conversation every time we come here, I get two flavors that compliment each other! All of those flavors confuse your mouth and you lose taste buds.”

“You lie just like my mother, which means you lie like shit.” And for that you slap his shoulder. “OW!”

“Don’t talk about Susan like that!” You say, jokingly offended. You go to hit him again, but he grabs your hand.

“You’re a fucking nut case.”

“OMG!” You hear an all too familiar voice excitedly yelp. “I thought I heard your voice!”

“Oh, hey Heather.” Rodick turns to talk to her, forgetting to let go of your hand. “What are you doing in here?”

“My friends wanted to stop in here to get some junk.” She waves her hand behind her and rolls her eyes. “I obviously don’t eat stuff like that, I mean, look at me.” Rodrick doesn’t even glance down when she motions at herself.

“Good for you, me and (Y/N) are actually in here for some snacks, too.”

She finally looks at you, and then at you and Rodricks combined hands. You squirm under her stare and take your hand out of Rodricks. He looks at you in seeming confusion, but doesn’t say anything.

“I didn’t see you there, hey (Y/N)!” She has a smile on her face, but you can see in her eyes the amount of hatred she has for you.

“Hey, Heather…” You almost whisper, and then turn to seem busy with your slushy.

“Well, we should get out of here, bye Heather.”

“Oh, yeah, I think my friends went back to the car, so I should head out, too.” She turns to leave, but looks back over her shoulder and waves seductively. “Bye, Rodrick!”

When you hear the front door bell ring, you finally release the breath you had been holding in. “Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself.

“What was that?” Rodrick turns to you with a smile and points behind him. “She’s never willingly came up to me unless she needs something. And she just wanted…conversation?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” You paint on a smirk even though your heart is racing. She had seen you with Rodrick, holding hands (completely his fault!), and he couldn’t be any less interested in her! You just know your fate is sealed.

“Well, let’s get this shit paid for and go.” He grabs up your food and you grab the slushies.

With everything paid for, you guys hop back into the van and head into the trail a few blocks down. It wasn’t anything official, but you hadn’t gotten in trouble for being out here, so yall just kept going.

You park the van and head into the back, opening the doors for some fresh air.

“So are you ready to tell me what’s up?” Rodrick asks after a few sips of his slushy abomination.

“I told you that I’m just exhausted.” You keep up your front.

“And I told you that you lie like my mom,” he sighs. “So you might as well just spill it.”

“It’s just something that me and my family have to deal with, you don’t have to worry about it!” You know if you bring your family into it, he’ll stop pushing it because he knows your parents don’t play.

“Ok, ok, I’ll let it go.” He raises his hand in defense.

You don’t respond, and you guys are submerged into silence once again. You exchange looks when you don’t think the other is looking, but besides that you take in the forest around you.

Heather could never experience these moments with Rodrick and understand how precious it is. Rodrick has always been the weird “bad boy” (people literally only say this because of his clothes and that makes you roll your eyes) who some of the girls wanted but if it got out they did like him, they’d be made fun of. You see how some of the girls look at him when he isn’t looking, and it hurts your heart. You know they have more of a chance than you ever would.

But with you, he was never like this. He was the goofy, caring friend who’d drop everything if you said the word. Heather only sees him as an object that gives her affection, but you see him as he truly is; a guy who loves and just wants it back. He just wants to be seen.

“Y’know you’re my best friend, right?” You blurt before you can think about it.

“Only took you a year to be genuine about it,” he nudges your shoulder.

“What?”

“The ferris wheel.” He states like you’re just supposed to know. And you do.

“You still remember that?” You gape.

“Anyway, yes I am your best friend, just like how you’re mine.” He grins at you, and then he drops it, “you’re not planning anything are you?”

“Oh my god, a guy can’t express his appreciation for his best friend?” You throw your hands up.

“I’m watching you,” he squints his eyes and points at you.

You get a text from your mom wondering where you are, and that’s the end of your little outing with Rodrick.

When he drops you home, Heather is the furthest thing from your mind, even though you know holding Rodricks hand (even though it wasn’t even purposely!) would be a slight against you.

—

Over the next two weeks, Heather's empty threat went to the back burner of your mind. If she wanted to out you, it would’ve happened by now. I’m safe, you sighed in relief.

Rodrick continued not to go up to her in the morning, but if she talked to him he definitely talked back. It seemed to calm her attitude toward you now, but it still was a hot seat around her. Like now, she’s passing around flyers for her party this weekend and intentionally passed by you.

“Rodrick, you’re definitely coming to my party this weekend, right?” She bats her eyelashes. “I need your band Soiled Diper to play!”

“It’s Löded Diper,” you correct and she glares at you, “and when have you ever wanted us to play anywhere near you?”

“Us?” She scoffs at you. “I just want the main band, not some wannabe.”

“Woah,” Rodrick stops her. “(Y/N) is an actual part of the band, so no him, no band.”

“Him? If that’s what you wanna say, sure.” And to the untrained ear it could just be her upset that he isn’t going along to exclude you, but you know what she means. As you perk up and look in her eyes, she’s already looking at you with a knowing smirk.

She knows. FUCK how does she know?

“I’m fine with not going, Rod,” you try to sway him. This cannot be fucking happening.

“No, it’s either all of us or none of us.”

Of course now he wants to be a fucking hero right now. He doesn’t get that this is social suicide FOR ME! Social homicide? Not important right now.

“Ok,” she has that sugary sweet fake smile. “Don’t come, then. Remember what I said.”

That last part was for you, you know it, and your blood runs cold. Fuck.

The rest of the day you’re on the edge of your seat, thinking what she might do. How the fuck did she even find out? You weren’t on social media much pre-transition, so barely any photos of you before exist. And like you said, your medical records were locked up tight.

Whatever, you try to convince yourself. She won’t do anything! She would’ve already.

You make it home with no one running around talking about your biggest secret, so your anxiety has allowed you to breathe again.

You decide to finally talk to your mom about this because who else will understand?

“You’re right to be afraid, but you’re also right about her doing it when she finally found something on you.” Your mom rubs your hair as you lay in her lap.

“It’s like I can’t get into her mind and I seriously want to. Like what is she planning?” Your thoughts literally won’t shut up. You haven’t had to worry about stuff like this for close to 2 years, and now its like your whole world is about to collapse

“For her sake, I hope nothing because I’m not above beating a little girl's ass!” And you know she’s being for real. Your mom doesn’t play around.

“Mom,” you roll your eyes.

“So, she thinks you like Rodrick…What’s up with that?”

“You know the answer if you’re asking,” you sigh.

“Do you want any advice on that? I say you should go for it.” Your mom shrugs.

“Absolutely not, because if this does come out I don’t want him weirded out by me being trans and gay.” You don’t even know if you are gay gay, but you know it’d make you that if you ask him out.

“I think you’re safe, but if something does blow, I’m in your corner.” She holds up her fist playfully to show it.

“Thank you, Mom.” You finally felt at peace with the whole thing. You trust your mom and feel like it will all blow over.

If only you knew.

The next morning, you walk with a pep in your step. You decide to walk to school, texting Rodrick you didn’t need a ride. It took a little longer to walk than drive, so you knew they’d beat you there.

When you finally showed up, people were staring at you, but it didn’t bother you much. People looked at you and the gang weirdly all the time, it just happened. It was when you finally made your way inside that all hell broke loose.

Random whispers were rampant through the hall, but when you walked by it would stop. Whatever, they were probably just talking about what you were wearing like always. You shrugged and went to find the guys.

You were right in front of them in the cafeteria and about to speak when that sugary voice stopped you, “Hey, [Redacted]!” It exclaimed.

You could’ve thrown up right then and there. You whip around to face Heather, “What the hell did you just call me?”

“Should I tell her or are you guys going to be good friends?”

“Guys, what is she talking about?” You turn to them and the look on their faces say it all.

They Know. Everyone knows.

Ben turns his phone around and you have to will yourself to not spill your breakfast out onto the concrete. It’s a screenshot from one of your parents' private Facebooks from two or three years ago with a title that stated your deadname.

The “girl” in the picture was going to homecoming, and it was obvious that it was you. Your face was softer, caked with makeup, and your hair was longer. The caption had your name and said that you were indeed going to homecoming.

“This picture was private, how the fuck?” You were whispering to yourself. You’re frozen in place, you can’t look anywhere but Ben’s phone.

“How could you hide this from your friends?” Heather fake gasps. “Pretending to be a boy? Going into the boys bathroom and locker room? What a freak!” and her whole group laughs. When you didn’t respond, she kept going, “Like, can you guys believe it? She’s pretending to be a boy to get close to you, and I even heard she had a little crush on one of you!”

That made you bark out a sob. Holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit holy-

“It’s crazy! Right, Rodrick?” and that snaps you out of it.

You glance at him, and he looks angry. Probably at you for lying to him. You darted away, looking for an exit because all you can think about is going home. You hear your name called after you, but you don’t care.

—

“What the hell are you doing home? Classes literally just started.” Your mom asks as she’s cuddled up with your dad. You don’t answer her, and just run up to your room, sobbing.

“Woah, woah woah, hey!” They get up to go after you.

When you get to your room, you don’t close your door knowing they’re after you. You shut your phone down and just throw yourself onto your bed, trying to stop your tears.

“Son, what’s wrong? What happened at school?” My dad knocks on the open door.

“Heather Hills,” you say through your pillow. Even if your dad didn’t get it, your mom did.

“She didn’t…”

“She did though, Mom!” You cry out, turning to face them. “She outed me to the whole school! She somehow found one of your Facebooks, got into it and found an old picture of me going to homecoming, and she shared it with the whole school!”

“Are you serious?” Your dad balls up his fist.

“Not only that, but she said that I was pretending to be a guy! Said I was doing it to get close to Rodrick, basically told him I liked him, and made me seem like this big ass weirdo!”

“We need to do something about this,” your mom says, and she sounds pissed. “This has to be some sort of harassment!”

“Your mother is right, we need to contact the school-”

“NO, please,” you start. “What’s done is done, I don’t want this bigger than it is!”

“(Y/N)!-”

“Mom, please listen to me!” You’re exasperated at this point. “Heather has the whole school behind her. Her parents are RICH, so if we try to do anything, it’ll just make everything worse!”

“I don’t give a fuck about her parents! She hurt my baby and she needs to be held accountable!”

“I don’t want to be in the middle of any more drama!” You groan. “I just want to figure this out quietly and on my own. I don’t want to talk to anyone about it and I just want to be left alone!”

“Ok, ok,” your dad sighs and puts a hand on your head. “If that’s what you want, we won’t push it,” he turns to your mom, “won’t we?”

“Yea, I guess,” she rolls her eyes, but gives a weak smile. “But at any point you need any help or she does anything else, we’re in your corner.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

“Get some rest, son,” your dad pats your shoulder. “You look like you need it.”

“I’ll try.”

But you knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep. You avoid your phone because you didn’t want to be contacted by anyone, but especially Rodrick. You didn’t want to know his disgust with you, didn’t want to know how much he thought that Heather was right.

Without the distraction of your phone, your room and the house was too quiet. You could hear your parents downstairs, trying not to be angry about your situation and watching television. Your mind keeps replaying you looking at Ben’s phone, ears ringing in anger and worry. You’re so horrified, afraid you’ve lost all of your friends. You were supposed to graduate without anyone finding out. What was the point of a fresh start if you were just gonna have to deal with all that you wanted to avoid at your old home?

You hear someone knock on your front door, and even being that far away from it you heard Rodricks voice. This time you can’t stop your stomach from lurching and you run to the bathroom.

As you flush the toilet, you hear the door close and footsteps up the stairs. That makes you pray on the bathroom floor to anything that could hear you to not make you talk to him yet.

“Hey, baby, you alright?” Your mom’s voice fills you with relief and seems to calm your stomach.

“No,” you say truthfully. You didn’t feel like lying right now, “I feel like everything is over for me.”

“You heard him, didn’t you?”

“Not what he said, but I heard his voice,” you admit.

“Then I think you should answer your phone.” And with that, she leads you back to your room, kisses your forehead, and goes back downstairs.

—

You don’t turn your phone back on until the next day. You still felt sick, and no matter how much you tried to eat you just couldn’t. You stayed home from school and your parents didn’t argue, but they still had to go out for work. Not a full trip, but they had to go to the next town over.

You had less messages than you thought you would, but it’s still crazy. Drew, Ward, Chris, Ben, and even Bill messaged you, but you didn’t care about all of them because one name caught your eye. Rodrick.

It was four messages; are you home??, answer me!, i’m coming over. were the first three, but the last message was a video.

It starts staring at the floor, and then it’s pointed to a group of people. You can make out you, the gang, and Heather behind you. You take off running, but the recording doesn’t stop there.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Rodrick stands up and gets in Heather's face.

“What?” she laughs in disbelief.

“You heard what I said!”

“Are you seriously defending her over me? I thought you liked me?!” You can hear the fakeness in her voice.

“That was before you decided to spread lies about my friend! He has done nothing to you!” the emphasis on the “he” makes your eyes widen. “You’re gonna stop talking shit about my best friend to my face! You’re such a fake bitch! I don’t know how I ever liked you…”

“Don’t tell me you’re seriously picking her over me? You must be more homo than her to like that wannabe boy.”

“Are you fucking serious?” The rest of the guys pipe up and start to surround Heather.

“He is a guy, and if you think anything other than it, you must be stupider than I thought,” Ben steps up.

“And so what if I like him? Just know I don’t like you, not anymore.” Rodrick is the angriest you’ve ever seen him, it’s kind of hot scary.

“Whatever, you’re all just losers. Lets go,” she turns and walks off with her crew.

That’s where the video ends.

You couldn’t stop rewatching it in amazement. He had stood up to Heather Hills for you without hesitation. Had said he liked you to Heather Hills. To basically the entire school, if this video has already gone around.

You debate whether or not you wanted to talk to him, but your need for your best friend wins over your need to hide. You slip on your shoes and head out.

You live a little over 5 minutes away from Rodrick even though he drives you guys everywhere. You know you could’ve told him to come over to your house, but it’s nice to finally get some fresh air. Plus, his mom was always nice to see when you went over his house.

When you get there, you see his van parked in the driveway near the garage. You have to hype yourself up to knock on the front door, but once you do it’s like a wave of nausea comes crashing over you.

I can’t do this, oh my god. What have I-

Before you can finish your thoughts, the door opens. You half expect it to be Rodrick, but it’s just Greg.

“Hey, kid.” You do a little wave as if you haven’t met him before. Whenever you come over, you tend to see Greg and Rowley, too. Most of the time they’re just in the living room, but they sometimes come up to the attic just to get chewed out by Rodrick, especially when it’s just you two up there.

“Hey, (Y/N),” he smiles, “where’ve you been?”

“Yknow.” You wring your hands. “Around.”

You can barely get words out. Does Greg know? Did Rodrick tell his family about what his best friend is?

“Rodrick should be upstairs in his room.” Greg moves out of the way so you can step into the house. “He’s been moping up there since yesterday, I don’t even think he’s left it today.”

“He didn’t go to school?” It’s not surprising, he’s always skipping, but you know it’s because of what went down yesterday.

“Nope,” Greg shakes his head. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you guys, because he only acts like this when he can’t see you, but I think you guys will work it out. It’s like me and Rowley, just less romantical.”

“W-what-” you sputter out. “I don’t-���

“Sure, whatever you want to tell yourself.” Greg cuts you off with an eye roll. “Like I said, he’s upstairs.”

“Thanks, kid.” Your face is on fire.

And with that, you mount the stairs to the attic. Is your crush on Rodrick really that obvious that even his family can see it? And with the way Greg was talking it seems to be reciprocated. You heard it come out of Rodrick’s own mouth, but what if he just said that so Heather could leave you alone?

You’re in front of his door before you can finish your thoughts. You knock, ready to get this over with.

“Mom, I told you I’ll be ok, just leave me alone!” You hear him call out.

“Not your mom, last time I checked.” You say, a soft smile grows on your face from hearing his voice.

You hear him leap up off of his bed and trip over something, but it doesn’t seem to phase him as he runs to open the door.

“(Y/N),” he breathes out.

“Hey,” you can barely look him in the face. “Can I come in?”

“Yea, yea, come in!” He pulls you through the door.

Once in his room, it’s like you’ve never set foot in it. You don’t know what to do, where to sit. It all feels new to you for some reason.

“Dude, just sit down somewhere.” Rodrick laughs at your newfound confusion.

You decide to sit on his bed, which you do every time you come over. You and Rodrick always sit on opposite ends of the bed so you can look at each other, which this time is no different.

You just sit there, staring at each other. You decide to break the ice. “It’s true, all of it. I don’t know how Heather got that picture, but I was a girl for most of my life up until now. Please, don’t hate me.”

“I’m not going to lie, it made me mad that I had to find out through Heather Hills,” he sighs, “but then again it’s none of my business. You were doing it to protect yourself, so I get it and I don’t have a right to be mad. I could never hate you over something like that though.”

You just sit there with your mouth open. You knew subconsciously that he couldn’t have hated you, but you had grown up hearing all the hatred people had for people like you. You had no choice to be on the defense when coming over here, no matter what you heard.

“I just-” You start. “I just, I know you’re my best friend, and I should’ve trusted you with this, but I couldn’t. I’ve never had anyone but my parents know. Their families don’t even know, that’s the whole reason we moved here.”

“Would you have ever told me?” He asks, kind of quiet.

“Maybe.” You shrug honestly. “I was too worried about trying to survive high school without a slip up to think that far ahead.”

“Oh,” is all he answers.

It’s another drowning silence. You’ve never had an awkward silence in your entire friendship, this is freaking you out.

“Did you watch the video I sent you?” Rodrick speaks up.

“Yea, it was the first thing I saw when I turned my phone back on.” Another beat of silence. “It was the only reason I came over here to talk to you.”

“Did you watch the whole thing?”

“Only a hundred times,” you smile evilly. “I love watching that barbie wannabe get put in her place.”

“Yea, that was great to do,” his voice lowers, “but that’s not what I was talking about.”

“I know.” You whisper and look him in the eyes.

You just sit there staring at each other, and then Rodrick looks down at your lips. It was so quick you could’ve missed it if you blinked, but you saw it. Just go for it.

“Are you going to kiss me, or just think about it?” You try to sound confident, but it ends up a quiet squeak.

His eyes widen, but he begins to inch over to you until you’re pressed up against each other. “Is this okay?” His whisper tickles your lips.

You just nod, eyes never leaving his. You don’t know who leans in first, but your lips are together in a flash. Your grip on his shirt is tight, as if when you let go it’ll all disappear. Your mouths almost move in unison, like you’re trying to devour the other. You can barely breath, feeling like this isn’t real. You dreamed about this moment for so long and now that it’s here it’s like you’re ascending.

You are the one who pulls away first, needing to breathe. Rodrick doesn’t seem like he wants to stop, kissing down your jaw to your neck. While you're breathing softly, you hear a knock at his door. That doesn’t stop Rodrick though.

“Rodrick,” you breath out as a warning.

“Hm,” he hums indifferently. Before you both know it, his door opens.

“Rodrick, you need to leave this- OH MY GOD!” His mother screams out.

“MOM!” Rodrick jumps away from you in fear and shock.

You’re all just stuck looking at both of them staring at each other before you break the silence.

“Hey, Ms. Susan…”

After that you are put through a lecture with his mom and dad. You guys can’t be upstairs alone without Greg being a buffer, door open at all times even with the other guys there. They, of course, texted your parents about what they found so that's gonna be fun to go home to. But you felt like none of that mattered because you got what you wanted. You didn’t lose your friends, and you even gained a boyfriend.

He offers to drive you home, which you take because you want to be close to him for a little longer. So you wave goodbye to his parents and get into the van.

You hold hands on the way to your house.

—

“We’re glad you decided to come back to school,” Rodrick squeezes your hand. “It’s been so boring.”

“First of all, I was gone one day,” you roll your eyes in fake annoyance. “And second of all, you literally didn’t even go yesterday!”

“But it’s always boring whenever I don’t get to see you, baby.” He wiggles his shoulders against yours.

All the guys groan in fake disgust. “Yall are so corny, break up already.” Ben gags.

“I didn’t even say anything!” You throw your hands up, taking one of Rodricks hands with you.

“Cringe by association.” And you roll your eyes in true annoyance.

“Are you sure you’re ready to go back?” Rodrick interrupts. “We could just go back to your house and hang out for the day.”

“I’m sure you’d love that,” you shove his arm, “but if I keep skipping, it’ll be like she won. Plus I’m not losing my straight A streak because of that bimbo.”

“Fine,” he huffs. “I can’t wait for the last day, school is so boring.”

“I thought without me it was boring?” You raise an eyebrow.

“You know what I mean.” He kisses your cheek.

“Yuck,” one of the guys laughs out behind your back.

“Shut the fuck up so we can get this day over with.” You flip them off.

You’re, of course, joking because you know you couldn’t have gone through this without them. After your talk with Rodrick, you all had a group hangout and talked through all of this. They let you know the whole time that they were 100% on your side. They were your boys and you were theirs.

Maybe the rest of the year won't be hell. You got the guy, smited the girl, and even if you were outed, you had all the friends you needed with you already. You were going to be fine.

[clearlydiamondz]

The Game

 Erik!Stevens X Black!Reader

Part Nine

- - - - - - - - - -  

Erik, the most popular person at  Texas Southern University, has his heart set on a particular girl.

Warning: Smut, creep behavior,

- - - - - - - - - -    

"Can you believe her!?" (Y/N) exclaimed walking around the table where her father and her boyfriend sat letting her vent out. "It's one thing to want me to move back home, but it's another to pimp me out to a whole ass man." she snapped as her dad looked up at her.

"Aye I know you upset but watch your mouth." he warned her as she sighed.

"I'm sorry daddy, it's just those women don't make a lick of sense. What the heck do I look like getting up getting the chance to work for NASA for $10 an hour." she aggressively said. Erik thought it was cute how she respected her dad's command.

"I don't even want to go to the Christmas event they holding up at the church." she rolled her eyes as her daddy shook his head.

"Oh noo you going up there. Even if it's for an hour, because I gotta stick with your mother when you leave popping up at my house and blowing my phone up about you not coming.'' he said standing up and walking to the refrigerator.

"Oh I just know that pedophile gonna be there. I just know it too."

"Well good think you got me to be there. I promise you, ain't nothing getting by me, I got you." he said grabbing her hand and placing it on the table as she smiled at him. Her father looked at the two of them, knowing that his daughter was safe with him.

"And it ain't nothing walking up to the church with my shot gun. The bible might say peace be still but I gotta piece of steal that'll hurt somebody if they hurt you, understand me girl." he told her as he nodded.

"I don't want y'all stressing, this is a vacation. Matter of fact, gone head back to the stables and go show this city boy how to ride a horse." he said squeezing Erik's shoulder as (Y/N) smirked at him.

"You down?"

"Let's go."

_______

They walked to the stables where the three horses were. "Hold these for me." she said holding the bowl of carrots and celery that she cut up for them this morning.

"So, how long you been riding horses." he asked her as she shrugged her shoulders.

"Man to be honest, ever since I've been walking." she chuckled grabbing two saddles. "It's like riding a bike, takes some practice but you'll get the hang of it." she winked at him walking to the side of the stables where. All three horses heads hang out as they looked at (Y/N) and the intruder.

"Is that my Baby Blue?" she gushed walking to the all gray horse. The horse started to nay at the sight of his owner as she hugged his head.

"Baby blue done got so big. Yes he has." she said patting him. She grabbed some of the carrots putting them up to her mouth.

"Alright, this is Baby Blue. Or just Blue. He's my horse. Had him ever since I was like, 13?" she said in a question tone.

"This is Ms. Lady. This my daddy horse. She's the oldest, but she is most definitely the fastest." she said walking to the middle stall where the all black horse drooled at the sight of the vegetables. She grabbed some celery and carrots putting it to her mouth rubbing her head. "He goes horse back racing with her every weekend. I think we might go to one so you can see her in action." she said. "Gone head and touch her she ain't gonna bite." she said moving to the side. Hesitantly, he rubbed the top of her head as the horse accepted his advances.

"Now this, this is the horse you'll be riding." she walked to the other end of the stable where there was a mixed there was a black horse with grey spots on it.

"Now this is Dolly. My father and I rescued her about a few years ago. Now she's a little shy, that's why you gonna ride her cause she gonna sit still for you." she opened the stable for him as he slowly walked inside.

"Hi pretty girl, I hope you remember me." she said slowly walking up to her. "Here feed her some of the carrots and celery sticks." she said moving the opposite side, him hesitantly walking towards her.

"She ain't gonna bite me right?"

"It's a horse not a shark." she laughed scratching behind the horses ear. "Plus she shy. She probably more scared of you then you are of her." she added. Unlike the others that she fed, Dolly was a lot more hesitant with taking the food from him, even backing away.

"Dolly don't be like that.." (Y/N) pouted before the horse shook her head making Erik chuckle. "Let's try petting her first." Erik started to gently to brush the bag of her hair, as the horse started to warm up.

"Well damn that was quick. She ain't let me or my dad touch her for a couple of days." she chuckled. Erik tried with the carrots again and she slowly took it.

"Okay! I see you." she excitedly said pushing his shoulder as he gloated himself. She grabbed the lead rope hooking it to her weaver, then placing it on the horses head.

"Alright, let's go out to the field."

The two of them spent the rest of the afternoon horseback riding. Erik caught on to it pretty quickly, having a few mishaps here and there. The two of them hopped off their respected horses looking out into the empty field on the acres of land. "So how do you like it?" she asked tilting her her head to the side with a smile on her face.

"Exciting most definitely," he said petting Dolly, the horse leaning into his touch, more comfortable with him than she was with anyone.

"Dolly really likes you, she doesn't even act like this with me and my daddy." she chuckled standing in front of him. She looked him up and down seeing the outfit he wore biting her lip. Quite honestly, this outfit was probably her favorite outfit on him. The boots, the black jeans with the white T-shirt and the jean jacket. Maybe because Erik was the only city boy that could make her feel this way, but seeing him like this unlocked a new passion she didn't even know she had.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" he cut her out of her train of thought, as she blinked unknowingly at him. Both hands were tucked away in his back pockets one of his eyebrows was raised and a smirk was on his face.

"I can't look at you? Dang." she playfully said rolling her eyes as he chuckled. Just like he was reading her mind like he always does, he says,

"I'm not going to lie though, seeing you ride horses kinda make me wanna see you ride somethin' else." she gasped hitting him in the arm as he shrugged. "Since you're scared to say it, I will." she bit her lip before saying,

"I mean... you do look good," she said grabbing the hem of his shirt and licking her lips.

"Too bad I can't have you how I wanna have you."

________________________

The two of them entered the house to see her dad watching television and eating a bowl of Cheerios. "We are going to take a nap before we head out to the church," she told him as he nodded.

The two of them walked down the hall and into her room. She walked in first taking her braids down that were in a bun. He stood by in front of the door with his hands behind his back, locking the door unnoticed by her.

"We need to leave in a few-" Before she could finish her sentence, Erik grabbed her face and kissed her. Kissing him back, she wrapped her arms around his neck. He walked forward making her take steps back as they continued to kiss.

"Ooh.. Erik." she whispered once his lips left hers and connected to her neck.

"Did you think I was playing when I said you looked good huh?” He asked into her neck as he nipped at her skin. She bit her lip in an attempt not to moan out loud.

“Fuck baby..” she whispered with her lips parted.

“Can you be a good girl and be quiet for me? Huh?” He whispered pulling from her neck. She nodded as he smirked while unbuttoning her jeans. “Daddy just wanna take a look, that’s all.” He whispered to himself as he lifted her off the floor and onto her bed.

He yanked her jeans and underwear down as she took her shirt off. Erik couldn’t help but chuckle at her eagerness, but was quickly bought back to reality when he noticed her pussy clenching over nothing.

“Like this daddy?” She whispered, getting into his favorite position. She held her ankles pulling her legs towards her head. He smirked at her as she smirked back at him.

He properly made her a trained slut just for him. Knowing his favorite position, and knowing not to deny him even a glimpse of her pussy was enough to make him want to give her anything in the world if she asked for it.

“Just like that pretty girl.” He commented before placing a kiss on her clit. She whimpered before whispering,

“I thought you said you just wanted a glimpse.” She pouted as his middle finger tapped on her clit, the slight sound of her wetness meeting her ear.

“I know, but I know what you want daddy to get a taste right? You want daddy to make you cum all over his tongue.” He whispered, his tongue slowly licking circles around her clit as she threw her head back. “Got my dick all hard.”

Just the mention of his dick had her opening her eyes and looking at him, only to see him unbuckling the belt and his jeans. “Can I see?” She pouted. Giving into her looks, he pulled his boxers and pants down to his thigh as he dick sprung out, hitting her on her heal ass cheek. She let go of her ankles as she sat with him standing between her legs. She grabbed his dick before spitting on it and jerking his dick.

“Nasty girl…” he whispered before grabbed her face and kissing her. This time, the kiss was a lot messier with their tongues sliding against each other. She whined her hips on her bed in attempt to use the friction to release the tension that she had in her pussy. Erik noticed, and without breaking the kiss he rubbed her clit as she moaned into the kiss.

She broke away, as she bit her lip. “Fuck me?” She asked him with a tilt of her head. He damn near came at the sound of her voice but was interrupted by his own train of thought.

“Wait baby- fuck.” He started but was cut off by (Y/N) rubbing his tip on her clit as she looked down at it in awe.

“That feels so good.” She whimpered.

“Hold on baby girl-“ he stopped her by grabbing her hand as she pouted. “You sure? Your dad is right outside the door.”

She answered his question by lying back down and placing her foot on her shoulder. She grabbed his dick placing the tip at his entrance without breaking eye contact. She pushed herself on as she gasped at the feeling of him invading her walls.

“Does that answer your question daddy?” She asked sitting up on her shoulders and playing with her nipples.

“You nasty fucking bitch.” He groaned before wrapping his hand around her neck and choking him. He thrusted into her slowly, letting her walls swallow his dick as her wetness coated him.

“Ooh fuck me just like that.” She whispered as she looked at him fucking her. His dick glistened every time he pulled back out with her pussy lips tugging.

“I should make yo nasty ass walk around with my nut in yo pussy all the time huh? Let everyone know who pussy this belong to.” He whispered bending down to her ear. He grabbed her other leg throwing it around his shoulder before she accidentally moaned out from the position.

“Oh my goodness daddy!” She whispered as he put his mouth to her hand.

“Shut the fuck up before I stop. You can take this dick without making noises.” He taunted her. He actually wanted to see if she could. If she could do this, he’d fulfill one of his kinks by fucking her in public. Maybe in a restaurant bathroom, or even a dressing room.

Her eyes locked with his as he continued to fuck her at an even slower pace. With the slow fucking, she felt herself cum all over his dick, hearing the new wetness sound.

“Look at you just creaming on my dick with that slutty pussy.” He praised her as she continued to nut. She mumbled profanities into his hands as her eyes crossed from the intense pleasure.

“Fuck…” he grunted out before throwing his head back. “This pussy finna make me put a baby in you girl.” He said as she groaned. Another orgasm made its way through her as he looked down at her.

“Freaky ass. You wanna walk around with my baby? I’m fucking you so good you wanna have my baby.” She nodded her head as she clenched around him just by the thought. She was taking the shot every three months but damn her imagination was running wild right now.

"Who pussy this belong to baby... huh?" he whispered to her as she looked at him biting her lips.

"It's yours daddy... fuck this pussy is yours..."

“Fuckkkk…” he trailed out as he came without warning into her pussy. Without leaving a drop she sat up as he still held his dick inside of her, slowly thrusting as she bit her lip.

“Daddy..” she whimpered as he slowly pulled out. He bent back down to be eye level to her pussy. He loved seeing the way her pussy looked after a good nice fuck. He placed a kiss on her clit like a few moments before.

____________________________________________

The two of them pulled into the parking lot of the church. Erik parked the car as (Y/N) continued to look out the window. “You good?” She turned to look at him as he looked at her with a concerned look on her face.

“Oh sorry, yeah. I’m good.” She forced a smile at him. He could tell that she was still nervous so he grabbed her hand and squeezed it.

“Look, the moment you get uncomfortable, you let me know and we leave. Got that?” He asked her. She nodded slowly before he exited the door. He walked to her side opening the door for her as she stepped out. He grabbed her hand walking her to the front door and opening it.

The church was filled with people, most likely more visitors because of the holidays. She recognized some of her old church members considering she grew up within the church. Some of them recognized her and ran to greet her.

"Sister (Y/N)! It's been a long time how have you been!" one of the ministers, Sister Barbra, exclaimed as she gave her a hug.

"Hi Sister Barbra, I've been good. And yourself?" (Y/N) smiled at her.

"Blessed and highly favored. And who's this young man?" she asked looking at Erik.

"This is my boyfriend, Erik. Erik, this is minister Barbra." she introduced the two. Erik gave her his hand to shake as she shook it.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Erik." she smiled at him. "Your mother is in the back preparing dinner for later on. Do you want me to let her know that you guys are here? She's been talking nonstop about you guys." she gushed, immediately (Y/N)'s interest was peaked.

"She has? What has she been saying?"

"Well that you decided to go to school, how you are the top in your class, and how you meet a potential husband. Though I see no ring on either of your fingers.." she stated looking at Erik and her hands in confusion.

Erik couldn't help but let out a chuckle, but (Y/N) had to remember not to roll her eyes in front of her.

Typical.

"You don't have to tell her we are here. Once service starts I'm sure she'll find us." she responded back. Sister Barbra left to go greet some more visitors, as the two of them found a seat on one of the back pews.

"Well at least she is proud of you?" Erik said as she scoffed.

"She is not proud of me. My mother has always done this. Ever since I could remember she would always talk crap about whatever I wanted to do unless it made her look good. Of course she's telling everyone what I'm doing." she rolled her eyes. "I'm willing to bet any amount of money as soon as we are alone, she's going to start that shit up again about me abandoning my career and coming back to the church." she replied with a shake of her head.

Erik was about to say something, but three women came up to them. Immediately, (Y/N) recognized them as the pastors daughters. Ashley, Olivia and Carolina. They were about three years older than her, and they were triplets.

There was no way to put it other then that (Y/N) hated them. Considering that this was a small town, all of the kids that went to the same church all went to the same school. And as far as she could remember, the three girls made her life a living hell. Of course when she told her mother about the bullying and teasing, she just dismissed it. A part of her knew that she didn't want to address it because these were the daughters of the pastor's of the church.

"Hello, welcome! How are you doing?" The three greeted Erik as he nodded his head in their direction, not really paying them the attention. Cut off guard, their similar faces showed the surprised expression.

"This is Ashley, Olivia and Carolina. Pastor Carl's daughters." (Y/N) replied as the three girls looked at her in shock.

'"Oh my gosh, (Y/N)! How are you?" Olivia exclaimed. Ashley and ' Carolina looked at her in shock as she waved at them.

"Jesus, you have changed a lot since the last time I seen ya." Carolina said with her arms crossed over her chest.

"I've been great, how about y'all?" (Y/N) replied as Ashley shrugged.

"All is well, and who is your friend?" Ashley said looking at Erik. "He's quiet ain't he?" she looked back at her sisters as they nodded.

"I'm Erik. And I'm not her friend. I'm her boyfriend." he corrected them. (Y/N) couldn't help but chuckle to herself.

"Well nothing ain't official until marriage. According to the bible of course." Carolina said with a smugness, making (Y/N) roll her eyes.

"If you seen how I had just had her a few hours ago you'd think different." he mumbled as she kicked his foot underneath the pew as he chuckled.

Not sure if they heard it or not, but I'm sure her mom will grill her later about it. "Well it was nice see and meet you, (Y/N) and Erik." Olivia replied looking back at her.

"It was, you have changed a lot. You should have seen her back in highschool Erik. Might make you second guess yourself." Carolina replied laughing as Ashley laughed along with her.

Highschool (Y/N) may have been embarrassed, or may even be insecure. She kind of wanted to kick herself in the ass. It was kind of pathetic how they still acted like they were in highschool with the bully mentality. She couldn't help but to say,

"I'm going to be honest, why does it matter what I used to look like? That's so weird to say." she couldn't but chuckle but Erik egged it on.

"No second guessing over here. She's the most beautiful woman I have laid my eyes on." he smiled at (Y/N) as she smiled back at him.

"Well I didn't mean it like that.." Carolina chuckled nervously. "It was more like a-" she looked at her sisters for help.

"It was more of a statement. She was just saying that she looks good now, because she looked different back then. Ya know?" Ashely defended her as Erik shook his head.

"No.. I don't get it." he said squinting his eyes. There was a quick few seconds of silence before an announcement was done over the microphone for everyone to take their seats and prepare for tonight's service.

"Well we are going to go ahead and take our seats. Again, it was nice seeing y'all!" Olivia exclaimed as she dragged her two sisters from them.

"That was..." Erik trailed off.

"A lot. Yeah. Why do you think I went to school in Texas." she joked with him making him chuckle.

"How do you know them?" he asked her tracing her hands with his thumb.

"Well like I said, their the pastor's kids. Also, we all went to the same schools. Let's just say they weren't so kind to little younger (Y/N)." she told him as he smacked his teeth.

"I wish I would have known that before they came over. I would've really embarrassed them." he admitted. She laughed before shaking her head.

"I'm over it honestly. Just seeing them act like that really just satisfied the little girl in me." she said slightly cringing.

Service had started and she still had yet to see her mother. She wasn't really worried about that though, she just took this time to appreciate the music and the word as it has been a minute since she been to church.

After service, everyone sat down in the dining hall. As the two of them ate and talked, her mom finally showed up.

"Didn't think you would be showing up." her mom walked over sitting on the other side of Erik.

"Well I said I was coming didn't I. I'm a woman of my word.. unlike some people." she mumbled the last part.

"Why do you have so much lip-gloss on your face, you look like a freaking proustite, who told you that looked cute? And did you have to wear that dress. You are showing way too much." her mom chastised her. "It's one thing to have not have any respect for your so called boyfriend, but in the house of the lord? Really?" Her mom complained.

'(Y/N) looked down at the baby pink dress she had on that stopped an inch above her knees. Her cleavage wasn't out, but it did show off her figure though it wasn't skin tight.

"Mom please, there is literally nothing wrong with my dress." (Y/N) said rolling her eyes.

"Brother Ron wants to see you by the way. He says that-"

"She's not talking to him." Erik cuts her off looking at her mother as her mother scoffed.

"Excuse me? Who are you to tell my daughter what she can and can't do?" she asked furrowing her eyebrows at him.

"He's my boyfriend and he's right. I'm not talking to his creepy behind." she said wiping her mouth with a napkin. Her mom looked between the two as (Y/N) stared at her mother waiting for her next response.

"Wow.. so you're just going to listen to him and not your own mother." she replied shaking her head. "See this is why I didn't want you going to that damn school, you come back being disrespectful and rude. That boy is a bad-"

"See that's not what we finna do. I have told you plentiful of times that I don't want to talk to that creep. You don't know how to take no for an answer and is pissed off that someone other than dad is standing up for me." she snapped back at her mother. The look on her face was shocked to see (Y/N) stand up for herself, but she deemed it as a token of disrespect.

Patricia was used to (Y/N) following whatever she said, just because she knew she could guilt trip her daughter when she was younger. Now that she didn't really have that power any more, she knew she had to come up with something quick to make her.

"Wow, you know what? If you are going to be disrespectful to the person that birthed you then you can just leave. I don't need to-" she was cut off by (Y/N) standing up and grabbing her things. Erik followed her actions before she looked at her mom and said,

"Until Erik and I can get an apology, I am no longer talking to you."

____________________________________________

The two of them drove back to the country side as she sat in the passenger seat. It was quiet with one of his R&B playlists playing lowly in the back ground. "I appreciate you standing up for me back there, baby." she looked over at him. He grabbed her hand bringing it up to his lips before kissing her hand.

"Well I'm not finna sit up here and let someone disrespect you any kind of way. Don't care if it's your mom no offense." he said looking at her and back to the road.

She licked her lips before saying, "I mean.. I still want to show my appreciation." she told him batting her eyelashes at him.

"I'm not going to lie... you do look cute with the church girl outfit. So cute and innocent." he said stopping at a stop sign. The pink dress in question was paired with a white purse and white heels, with a white bow for her hairstyle. Even before she left, when Erik saw her he wanted to go for another round.

She leaned over the seat, tracing her hands over his area. He shifted into his head, holding the steering wheel with one arm and using the other to grab her hand.

"You can't be touching me like that while I'm drive girl. I'll pull over and fuck the shit outta you right now." he warned her as she smiled at him.

She got back into her seat as he sped off before pulling her dress up her thighs and reaching for her black underwear. She placed it on his lap as he looked down at it then looked at her.

"You being a bad girl? What happened to my sweet and innocent (Y/N) ?" he asked her as she placed her feet on the dashboard.

"I don't know.." she whimpered widening her legs. "You wanna see how wet you got my pussy daddy.?" she asked. She slowly opened her legs as he saw glimpses of her pussy from the street lights. That's when he decided to pull over on the dirt road and unbotton his seat belt.

"Fuck.. the pretty pussy stay wet don't she." he asked leaning over the council and reaching down to her wetness. He spread her lips to see her pussy dripping. He could tell just by looking at her pussy that it was still recovering from the session they had earlier. He slowly started to rub small circles on her clit as she bit her lip.

"Mmm daddy, take that dick out." she said. He sat back in his seat, unzipping and unbuttoning the slacks that he had on, whipping his dick out as it hit his stomach.

"Fuck..." he moaned as he started to jerk his dick off slowly. She faced towards him getting onto her knees, bending over to place his dick into her mouth.

"Mmm.. yummy." she said to herself tasting the precum that blessed his tip. Bobbing and twisting her head, she made sure to slob over his dick.

"Yeah.. get that dick sloppy and wet." he moaned watching her. He looked behind her to see that the window had a reflection of her wet pussy underneath the dress. He pulled the dress up her back as he smacked her ass a few times.

"Shake that ass for daddy.." he instructed her. Wiggling her ass cheeks, her pussy winked at him through the reflection as he spanked her ass cheeks making her moan.

Without any warning, she sat back up and moved across to sit on his lap. She grabbed his dick and lined it up to her entrance before sitting completely down.

The two of them moaned, as he pushed the seat back and laid it down letting her have more room to work.

"There you go, ride daddy's dick like a good slut.. fuck." he cursed as she moved up and down slowly.

"Shit.." she gasped. It's been a minute since she rode him but damn, every time she does she forget how big he is.

"Come on.. I know you can take all this dick. You done it before." he said assisting her as she slide down even more as she gasped.

'"Damn your so deep." she whimpered, loving the pain.

"Keep on riding my dick like you doing before I fuck you (Y/N)." he warned her. Placing her arms over the seat so her titties were in Erik's face, he happily pulled the dress down letting her boobs free from the dress and bra, and took one into his mouth to suck and play with.

She bounced up and down, the sound of her ass hitting his thighs and her wetness filled the car, along with their moans and their dirty talk.

"Fuck girl, got the best pussy in the world fuck." he moaned out throwing his head back. That statement gave her some boost as she started to ride him even faster.

"Mmm I love this dick so much.." she moaned with her eyes rolled back into her head and her head thrown back. Erik's hand found their way up her chest and to her neck, squeezing it as she gasped at the sudden lack of air. All it did was make her ride him faster.

Her orgasm broke through her as she fell onto her knees, shaking on top of her

Erik took it upon himself to plant his feet on the ground and fuck up into her. "Yeah.. daddy beating this pussy up ain't he." he growled into her chest while smacking her ass.

"F-Fuck baby please." she moaned as he let out a moan himself.

"I'm finna cum, I'm finna cum all in this good pussy.. fuck!" he screamed out, scratching at her ass and smacking it.

"Shit.." she whispered falling back into the passenger seat. The windows were foggy as she looked back at Erik and laughed.

"What's so funny?" he asked looking over at her.

"I can't believe we just did that."

____________________________________________

@life-in-the-slut-house @gloglamsparks @waveynaee @lalaooopsie @luvvjada @nccu-rnc @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @leahnicole1219 @meeksmillsfenchfries @hinatasfleshlight @kokokonako @junie04 @sourbabynaee @sociallyawkward18 @raysunshine78 @justgetitoverwith0 @lishabaybee @rbhp @ladymac82 @musicismeb @keviekevswife1 @chaneajoyyy @youlovechicky   @sexicherri3 @amirra88 @jameica17695 @lishabaybee @softleoblue @automaticdragonmugalien @lynaye1993 @eterrealluvrr @xsweetdellzx @ajenae @forevermoremagcon @babbydollaaassignn @ziayamikaelson @blmcd57110 @kaireads2020 @ts1mp0ne @luvvvjada @cozyashhh  @hippieonboard @ejs398 @royaler1999 @bhjszsdxc @xsunaxrinx @doublesidedscoobysnacks @mixornomix @callmemckenzieee @niahsa @nanii2x @mysteryincarnate

[afyrian]

ch. 4 - shelter and food, the essentials m.list

  rain trickles down outside of your shop, running down the awning and puddling on the concrete. you stare out at the rain, fiddling with your key. either you can run to your car and head back to your apartment, preparing an instant ramen in despair, or let the allure of 'onigiri miya' finally get to you. the warm lights inside rest lightly on your eyes, a smile on your lips.

  you can imagine the candles, the aroma of the food. it all seems so beautiful, pulling you in like a siren’s call. however, you can’t help but know that you’ll have to wake up early, work on some plates and trinket dishes. that eating out will leave you tired in the morning, begging for a day off-

  “y/n! you okay out here? i have an umbrella if ya need one,” osamu pops the door open, a broom in his hand, hat raised up slightly. 

  you look between him and the building rain, the trickle quickly turning to a pour, “oh yeah! just wondering what i’d do for dinner. instant ramen is quickly becoming a favorite of mine.”

  osamu props the door open with the broom, taking a few steps towards you. his body standing next to yours radiates a little heat, his arms crossed in front of his chest. “well i can make you something instead, it might be a little better… the shop is closed, so i wouldn’t have to worry about any orders,” he looks over at you, admiring the way the light bounces off of your hair. 

  “uh- okay, yeah.”

  going in, checking it out almost feels like a betrayal. a betrayal to your integrity and want to fight for the quiet that you used to achieve. a betrayal to your knowledge of the world, the understanding that starting something like this could only end in heartbreak. however, betrayal has never felt so good when following him inside.

  the initial smell is a pleasant affront on the senses. like a swirl of delight lingers in the air, carrying you to the counter like a delicious dish of vegetable karaage. you purse your lips as you look over at osamu, “so, what are you thinking for dinner?”

  he puts up his pointer fingers in a motion of ‘just you wait’. osamu hurries to what you believe to the be the kitchen, giving you a moment to look around the front of the shop. it’s built beautifully, fake architectural designs are built into the walls. they blend in with the rest of the decor perfectly, the soft yellows matching that of their uniforms. 

  however, your inspection comes to a quick close as osamu walks out from the kitchen. his towel is on his shoulder again, hand reaching up to wipe something from his forehead. as soon as you see him, you swallow whatever saliva is still in the back of your throat, tingles running up your fingers. something about him in his uniform sends your heart racing. 

  you don’t even notice the spare apron in his hands at first, your eyes looking between his upper arms and face. “a gift for tonight, since we’ll be in the kitchen,” he holds it out, letting you loop the top loop around your neck, “here, let me get that tied for you.”

  something about this, the whole thing, feels right. the way he's standing there, hands grazing your shirt as he ties the apron around you. or his cocky smile that isn't necessarily annoying to look at when you turn around. or maybe even his slightly tilted head as he leans into the situation.  

  "thanks, i would hate to get oil on my paint covered clothes," you can't even hide the rush you feel in this moment, wondering if this is what happened for all of your friends, if this is what genuinely liking someone feels like. 

  with your little joke, he shakes his head, turning around to show you the kitchen. it is true, your clothes are already ruined, but the act is what brings a smile to your face. that he thought of you, thought to protect the things you own. 

  osamu's quick to show you why his restaurant is popular. the remaining smells of the store compare poorly with the fresh scent of the negi miso onigiri. the way he cooks so confidently while chatting about the origins of the dish, and how he changed it to fit his style and taste. a history lesson and dinner rolled into one as you lean against a counter, chin resting in the palm of your hand.

  listening to him talk sounds therapeutic, like music to the ears. the way his hand moves as he speaks, showing emphasis with every word. just watching him cook makes you lose your breath, gasping for a moment of clarity. "oh, so how long has this been your passion? cause the knowledge you have about it is truly amazing," you bite your lip, watching as he turns back to you.

  taking a step towards the counter, osamu leans down with you, resting his forearms on the table, "for a while, since i was young. i enjoyed other things, but cooking was a comfort for me, especially after a long week of practices."

  "well, you seem to carry a lot of finesse when you cook. i mean those techniques are completely unheard of to me, a complete amateur," you shrug, staring right into his eyes, feeling nervous when you can't seem to look away.

  there's something about the way he smiles at you as he tries to take the compliment. the way osamu’s gaze flickers between your lips and your eyes, like he doesn’t know which one to focus on. you can’t help but do the same, wondering if his lips taste like how his cooking smells. savory and with a hint of sweetness. 

  you feel yourself gravitate towards him, body inching forward over the counter, eyes closing. just as you’re about to reach each other, see each other in a completely different light, a smoky smell fills the room. not a good smoky, like a delicious barbecue, but rather one of burnt food.

  “oh shit!” osamu stands up straight, grabbing an oven mitt and grabbing the hot pan, moving it to another spot on the oven. 

  he looks back at you, lips parted as his teeth clench, “i’m so sorry about this, really, i ever burn food.”

  “i would never assume you do, osamu,” you cross your arms in front of your chest, feeling the thick material of the apron, “but how about we take this as a raincheck? i’d like to try your food without a burning smell in my nose..”

a/n: ahhh i really liked this chapter <33 like i just thought it was so cute taglist: @causenessus @osakis-gf @eggyrocks @brkfclub @marisabel14

@bbybibi @etoiile @miyamoratsumuu @girlokarina @gsyche

@cherrypieyourface @zephestia @acowboykisser @whosmarjj @gumiiiiezzzz

@guitarstringed-scars

[vodika-vibes]

Hey, congrats! For your 650+ follower event, could you do a Modern AU where the Reader is a popular music artist/dancer. But she's like a really down to earth person that if you met her randomly on the street you wouldn't guess that she was famous (she personally hates the fame). Well one day, she starts getting texts from an unknown number and also starts getting letters as well(she basically has a creepy fan stalker). Her agent then decideds to hire Hunter to be readers bodyguard. Then when they start getting close to one another Hunter realizes that the reason he's protecting reader may not be because it's his job...

Maybe you could also have Hunter and Reader show off their tattos?(Reader has a tattoo of vines and flowers that trails down her arm, music notes on her thigh and a big butterfly on her back)

Could it also be fairly long, if you can.

Sorry if it's a big ask, I have a LOT of ideas.

Fields Of Gold

Summary: You’ve been singing and dancing for your whole life, it’s what makes you happy. You never expected, or even wanted, fame or fortune for it. Parental pressure, mixed with getting scouted by an agent, meant you got both despite your desires. And then the stalker comes out of the woodwork, and you start to think, maybe you made a mistake.

Pairing: TBB Hunter x F!Reader

Word Count: 4085

Warnings: Stalking, murder, animal death

Prompt: Modern AU

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly @clonethirstingisreal

A/N: So, I made the choice to leave this without a definitive ending, because I like the way that it feels. I hope you like it anyway. The reader is a pop star who goes by the stage name Galactic Mint (it's a MAC lipstick color). And the title was the song that I was listening to when I started writing it.

You’ve always loved to dance.

Your mother likes to tell the story of when you were an infant, and how you would wiggle along with the music before you could even walk and talk. She’d tell the story of you learning to dance as a toddler and all you could do was bounce along with the music, rather than proper dancing.

It only made sense, then, that as soon as you were old enough your mother signed you up for baby ballet.

As you grew, and became more coordinated, more styles opened up to you. From tap dancing to hip-hop, from belly dancing to salsa dancing. You learned them all and you loved them all.

You never wanted fame or fortune. You just wanted to dance. To be able to feel the music down to your bones and move along with it.

But when you were 14 and your mother suggested voice lessons to go along with your dance lessons, you couldn’t help but agree. Especially when she said that she wouldn’t pay for any more dance lessons if you didn’t also take singing lessons.

So you did.

And you were good at it.

You were the only one surprised when an Agent reached out to you.

And you were the only one surprised when you were offered a record deal.

At barely 15 years old, you released a hit pop song called Gumball, and you were launched into stardom. You had someone who styled your hair, someone else who did your make-up. You had a stylist who picked out your everyday clothes, and another one who designed your concert outfits. You had private tutors for every subject.

You had an agent, a lawyer, an accountant, a team of bodyguards, a personal trainer, and a personal nutritionist. 

You didn’t have any friends, though.

It was a very lonely childhood.

You couldn’t go to the arcade to play video games, you couldn’t go to the mall, you couldn’t go to the movies. All you could do was live in the mansion your parents picked out, the mansion you paid for, and travel in the trailer that your parents also picked out.

And, privately, you hated it.

Hated the concerts, hated the singing, hated having people pawing at your hair and your body. Hated them telling you that you couldn’t have pizza or ice cream because it might ruin your body.

You hated the skin-tight leotards that they dressed you in for concerts. And you hated the caked-on pastel make-up as well as the synthetic wigs you had to wear for public appearances. 

You hated the tight clothes your stylist dressed you in, the mini-skirts and short-shorts and heels—

The day you turned 18, you fired all of them. 

Your manager, your nutritionist, your stylist, your hairdresser, your make-up artist. All of them.

You had your lawyer kick your family out of your home, had the courts order your family to pay you back for all of the money they took from you since you were a teenager, and then, when they tried to fight back, you completely disowned them and got a restraining order against them.

At the age of 18, you completely reinvented yourself. 

Oh, sure, you still made pop music, but you moved away from the pastel preteen look that everyone had been shoving you into and into a more adult style. 

And you thrived.

You sang songs of love, of loss, of betrayal. Your concerts, where you used to have to focus on singing, gained more and more energy as suddenly you were able to dance to your music.

Suddenly you were happy, and your fans could tell.

And they loved it.

However, there is a downside to being so famous.

The first letter arrives shortly after your 22nd birthday. 

Now, at this point, you’ve been a popstar for seven years, you’re no stranger to letters and gifts from your fans. You’ve even received creepy letters before, letters from adult men who thought that you were singing to them. 

But there is something different about this letter. Different enough that you bring it to your manager, who hands it over to your security team. 

And then the second letter arrives a week later. And a third one two days after that.

All of them are surrendered to your security team before you even read them.

The fourth letter arrives the very next day, attached to a box. The envelope is empty, but inside the box is a sheep’s head.

You don’t see it, luckily.

Your manager does though, and he puts his foot down. He calls the police, who call in the feds, and after one of the feds points out that this is a clear escalation, and that you’re in danger, your manager starts looking for a personal guard for you.

And then the phone calls start.

Verbal threats against you, against the people who work with you, against the concert venues coming up, against the people who attend the concerts—

You’re sitting in your kitchen, your head buried in your hands as you stare at a list of concert venues that have active threats against them. Active threats against them because of you, when your manager invites himself into your home.

“You’re not thinking of canceling the concert dates, are you?” He asks from the doorway to the kitchen.

“Don’t we have a responsibility to my fans?” You counter without lifting your head, “If I don’t cancel and someone gets hurt, won’t that be on me?”

“What do the feds say?” He asks.

“That I’m not responsible for the actions of other people.” You say, “That they’ve put word out to the venues, and that they’ll have security all over the place if I decide to go through with it.”

“Well, it sounds like they know what they’re doing.”

You sigh and drop your hands to the table, “Why are you here, Miles?”

“I found you a personal bodyguard,” Miles says proudly.

“I have a personal bodyguard,” You counter, “They’re all over the place. I can’t walk five feet without tripping over one of them.”

“You’re right, but they’re stretched thin. So this,” Miles gestures to the side and a man steps into the kitchen, “is Hunter.”

You lean back in your seat and stare at him. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, with shoulder-length brown hair and a skull tattooed over half his face. “Nice to meet you.” You greet politely.

“Ma’am,” He nods once and then steps further into the room, and you watch as he scans the kitchen, “Your manager has hired my team to be your guard.” He says focusing his intense gaze on your face, “Two of my brothers, Tech and Wrecker, are coordinating with the Federal Agents, while my other two brothers, Echo and Crosshair, are working with the guards who already work here. We’re hoping to close any holes that might remain.”

“Well, I appreciate that.” You reply.

Hunter nods once, “May I ask you some questions?”

“If you like.”

Hunter nods and crosses the room to sit across from you, pulling a notebook from the pocket of his jacket as he sits, “How long have you known the men and women of your security team?”

“Since I was 14.”

“Your parents hired them?”

“No. My agent.”

Hunter nods, “According to the profile I have on you, you’ve disowned your parents? Could they have something to do with this?”

“I guess it’s possible, but you’d have to ask the agents about that.”

Hunter makes a note in his notebook, “Any ex-boyfriends or girlfriends I should know about?”

“None.”

“Friends?”

“I’ve been a pop star since I was 14 years old, Hunter. I didn’t go to school or have friends. I just worked.”

“Sounds lonely.”

You just shrug.

“Your Manager gave me a layout of your home. I noticed that all of the glass is both bulletproof and mirrored?”

“That’s right.”

“May I ask why?”

“I got tired of people taking pictures of me making breakfast.”

“People take pictures often?”

“Popstar.”

“You got any names?”

“I don’t, my security might.”

“Alright.” He closes the notebook, “Can I get a tour?”

“Yeah, of course.” You stand and gesture vaguely, “This is the kitchen, there’s a door there,” You point to a hidden door, “Leads to the basement.”

“Anything in there?”

“Not really. Some shelves, my winter clothes, some of my old costumes and wigs, but that’s it.” You pause, “There’s no other entrance into the basement either.”

Hunter nods and makes a note on the map he pulled out of his notebook, “Alright, can I go down there?”

“Yeah.” You open the door to the basement, “I’m not sure what you’re looking for. The Agents already did all of this.”

“Just checking behind them, that’s all.”

You watch as Hunter goes down into the basement, and walks around for a moment, making notes on the map in his hands, before he heads back up.

“This place is single-level, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Can I see the bedroom?”

“Yeah, follow me.” You lead him through the house, pointing out different places, until you push open the bedroom door. “This is my room. The windows are the same as the ones in the kitchen.”

Hunter nods, “Less in here, too.”

“I didn’t feel comfortable sleeping in a room covered in windows.” You explain.

“Smart.” Hunter walks the room and makes some notes on the map, before heading back to you, “So, all things considered, your home—” He stops when there’s the sound of glass splintering. 

Your gaze darts to one of your windows, which is now covered in spiderweb-like cracks that indicate that someone tried to break it. Hunter ushers you out of the bedroom, practically tackling you into the hallway, and he presses you against the wall as he fishes his phone out of his pocket and presses it against his ear.

You listen as Hunter rattles off some information and then hangs up the phone.

“We’re going to stay put right here, just until my brothers can make sure that no one else is going to take a pot-shot at us,” Hunter says reassuringly. 

“I just don’t understand why anyone would want to hurt me,” You admit as you curl your trembling hands around the hem of your shirt, “I’ve never hurt anyone.”

“You can’t attach logic to someone like this.” Hunter explains, “He’s crazy, that’s all there is to it.” His phone rings and he answers it before the first ring ends, “Yeah?”

Hunter listens to the other man on the phone, and then he sighs.

“Of course he did. Don’t worry about it, keep your eyes open. We’re going to have to move the primary.” He glances at you, “I’ll take care of it.” He hangs up and slides his phone into his jacket pocket.

“What?”

“My brothers and the federal agents found a snipe rifle on the hill.”

“Sniper?” You ask in disbelief.

“Afraid so. Is there anyplace else you can go?”

“No. Nowhere.”

Hunter stares at you for long enough that you shift uncomfortably, “Alright. I think I have an idea.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. But you kind of stand out a little.”

You blink at him and then look down at yourself, “I mean, I can change into other clothes?”

“Do that. Carefully.” 

You nod and slip back into the bedroom, and then into your closet. Immediately you slip out of the uncomfortable clothes that your stylist encourages you to wear, and you tug the wig off your head. 

You change your clothes into a pair of loose jeans and a teeshirt covered in cats. Then you pull the pins out of your hair as well as remove the braid, allowing your hair to tumble around your shoulders. 

The last thing you do is pull a sweatshirt from your college over your shirt, hiding the intricate tattoos that decorate your arm. And you grab a matching hat and hurry back into the hallway, “Okay. How’s this?”

Hunter blinks at you, twice, “Aren’t you supposed to be a redhead?”

“Wig.”

“Huh. You know, if I hadn’t seen you go inside, I wouldn’t have recognized you at all.”

“The clothing that I prefer doesn’t go along with the whole popstar thing.” You admit sheepishly, “And the wig is because I was told that my natural color is boring.”

“Well, it’s a good thing that you’re so different from the you that the rest of the world knows. That means my plan might work.” Hunter motions for you to follow him, “Your manager said that I could park my car in your garage.”

“Well, yeah. It’s not like I can drive.”

“Right. Well, here’s my plan. You and I are going to go and hide out on the Marauder.”

“What’s the Marauder?”

“A ship. My ship. It’s not large, but you’ll be safe.” Hunter replies as he leads you into the garage, “Put the hat on. You’ll be sitting in the front seat.”

“Uhm…”

“Nervous.”

“Someone is trying to kill me.”

Hunter smiles at you and lightly presses his hand against your shoulder, “I’m not going to let that happen.”

Somehow, amazingly, you believe him.

Two weeks later, Hunter is sitting at the helm of the Marauder, a frown pulling down his lips. 

The situation has gotten worse. Far worse.

The stalker has turned into a murderer, having killed three women who look like the pop star. Well, how the public sees her, at least.

He hasn’t told her yet.

By this point, he knows her well enough to know that the knowledge that three women died because they looked like her would torture her.

“Hunter?”

“Yeah, I’m still here, Tech.”

“Good. What do you think?”

“I’m not sure, vod. What do the Feds think?”

“One of them wants you to bring her back, so they can use her as bait.”

“Tell me you told them that that’s not going to happen.”

“Oh yes. Crosshair was very specific about that.”

“Good.”

There’s silence for a moment, and then Tech speaks again, “I called in Phee for some help. And Echo called in Fives.”

“Yeah? They helping?”

“Fives has brought some interesting insight into the stalker’s mind. He is quite the talented profiler.” Tech replies, “Phee is doing some digging of her own, though I’m not sure what she is looking into.”

“What do you think, Tech? Gut reaction.”

“You know I do not operate that way.” Tech chides his older brother, “However, there is something strange about one of the Agents. So I have started looking into him.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. I will let you know what I learn.”

“Be careful, don’t go anywhere without Wrecker or Crosshair.” Hunter pauses, at the sound of movement below deck, “Listen, I have to go.”

“I will be as careful as I can. Tech out.”

The call disconnects, and Hunter sighs as he drops the phone back on the table. There’s the sound of light footsteps, and he turns as the bridge door opens, “Morning, Sunshine.” 

“Good morning,” She replies, a small smile on her face. The scent of sunblock fills the small room, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah. Just talking to Tech.” Hunter pauses, “I’m afraid we can’t return to shore just yet.”

“Well, that’s okay. I think I’m finally starting to develop my sea legs.”

Hunter laughs, “Well, you haven’t fallen yet today, but it’s still early.”

She huffs, “Rude.”

Hunter just grins at her, “So, what’s your plan for today?”

“Mm, maybe I’ll continue working on my next song.” She replies thoughtfully, “But I haven’t decided yet.”

Hunter shifts in his seat, “Let me ask you a question, Sunshine.”

“What’s up?”

“Do you even like singing?”

“I…” She hesitates, “I like dancing. The singing is…well, I can take it or leave it.”

“If you’re not happy, then why don’t you stop?”

“...I’ve been singing since I was a teenager. I grew up in front of cameras. What else can I do?”

“You could teach dancing.”

“Yeah, maybe.” She shrugs and drops into the seat across from him, “I dunno, though. I mean, sure, I have a degree but it’s a General Education degree. And I wouldn’t want people to come to learn from me simply because of who I am.”

“Look, if you don’t like your job, then quit.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?”

“Well, there’s a contract, for one. And, for another…I dunno. Change is scary, I guess.”

Hunter stares at her for a moment, and he smiles. “You know. You don’t look anything like the woman who performs on stage.”

“Makeup is the great equalizer.” She jokes.

“I think you’re much prettier like this. Without all of the makeup and the wigs.”

She laughs softly and averts her gaze for a moment, and then her gaze locks with his, “Well. You’d be alone in thinking that.”

“Come on, man. I’ve been told since I was a teenager that I’m not good enough as I am.” She shrugs, “You hear something enough times, and you start to think it about yourself, right?”

“You know. I think I hate your parents.”

Her head falls back as she laughs, “Have you seen some of the outfits they okayed for me when I was still a kid? My stylist dressed me like a porn star.”

Hunter grins at her, “And when did you get those? The tattoos.”

“The first one was when I was 18. After the court cases were over. And then another one at 19, and my back piece was finished shortly before I turned 20.” She says as she holds out her arm so he's able to see the vines and flowers, next to the musical notes on her leg.

“A backpiece, huh?”

“A butterfly." She explains, "What about you? When did you get yours.”

“19. All of them at 19.”

“All of them? The face one is obvious, but you have more?”

“Oh yeah. I was a dumb kid and went all in on the skeleton thing.” Hunter replies with a grin, “It goes all the way down.”

“No way.”

“Way.”

“Your artist didn’t try to talk you out of it?” She asks.

“Oh, he tried. He’s also an older brother, so he didn’t try all that hard.”

“How many brothers do you have?”

“A lot. There’s so many of us.” Hunter stands and heads to the door, “Come on, sunshine. Let’s work on your knots.”

“Ugh. Not more knots.”

“Yup. You gotta learn.”

“Fiiiine.” She sighs as she gets to her feet, “But I want to see your chest tattoo.”

“Only if I can get a look at your tattoos.”

“Deal.”

Hunter leads her to where the rope is located and gets her started on her knots before he leans back and watches her. She’s, actually, very talented. His sunshine has deft fingers, and a good memory.

She’d make a good deckhand. 

Plus, in her own words, she’s not very happy with the lack of privacy that comes with being a pop star. She does it because she feels like she has no choice.

Also, she’s cute and he likes looking at her. 

Watching the “Pop Musical Sensation Galatic Mint” shed her skin and turn into a normal woman, with normal likes and dislikes, has been eye-opening.

Watching her fold back into her shell will be heartbreaking.

“What?”

“Hm?”

She’s staring at him, her head tilted to the side, “You’re staring.”

“You’re pretty. Very starable.”

“Come on, Hunter.”

He laughs, “I’m being honest, but I’m also thinking.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re pretty good at this. You’d be welcome on my crew if you wanted a place.”

“What? Give up the glitz and glam for a life on a ship?”

“You hate the glitz and glam.”

“Well, you’re not wrong about that.” She admits.

“I need to tell you something,” Hunter says, “Something I should have told you earlier.”

She paused mid-knot, “What’s wrong?”

“Your stalker,” Hunter says slowly, “He’s escalating.”

“Well, yeah. That’s what the Federal Agents said when the sheep head was sent to my home.” She replies, “And the attempted assassination—”

“He’s murdered three women.”

“...what?”

“Women who look like you.” Hunter says, “Well, who look like you when you perform, at least.”

“Oh my god,” 

“Listen, this isn’t your fault.”

“But if I hadn’t left—”

“Then you’d probably be dead now.”

She stares at him and sets the rope on the table, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to stress about it.” Hunter admits, he reaches across the table and takes your hand in his, “Listen. My brothers have called in a profiler and someone else to help them. They think they’re getting close now.”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, “I’m going to have to retire from performing.”

“Sunshine—”

“Women are dying. Because of me.”

“No.”

“Yes, Hunter. I might not be killing them, but they are dying because of me.” She squeezes his hand, “How am I supposed to live with that?”

“I don’t know. But you’re going to have to.” Hunter says quietly.

“Do you blame me?”

“Never.”

“But—”

He squeezes her hands and she trails off, “Listen to me. You could have shot them yourself, and I still wouldn’t blame you, okay?”

“That would…definitely be my fault then, Hunter.”

“You would have had good reason, I’m sure.”

She laughs weakly, “You’re a good man, Hunter.”

“Not that good.”

“No, you are.” She smiles at him weakly, “Um…I’m not really feeling being social. Do you mind if I just hang out below deck today?”

“Of course not.”

She gently pulls her hands from his grasp and gets to her feet, and then she drops a light kiss on his cheek, “Thank you, Hunter.”

“For what?”

“For listening. And protecting me.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that, Sunshine.” He pauses, “Sunshine.”

“Yeah?”

“No phone calls.”

“I remember.” She replies.

Hunter watches as she heads to the stairs that lead below deck, and he sighs and closes his eyes. Maker, he’s an idiot.

“Hey, sunshine.”

She pauses on the stairs and turns to look at him, “Yeah?”

“Hold on a second.” He gets to his feet and crosses over to her.

She moves to stand on the deck again, “Something wrong?”

“Not wrong, so much as I’m something of an idiot.”

“I don’t—?”

Hunter brings his hand up to cup her cheek, and she blinks at him in confusion. “Like I said, I’m an idiot,” He jokes, before he leans in and brushes her lips with his own.

It can’t even be called a proper kiss, so much as a promise for more, if she’s willing.

When Hunter pulls back her eyes are wide, and she looks flustered.

“Was that alright?” He asks softly.

“Um…yeah. It was more than alright, actually.” She replies softly, “Can we do it again?”

He chuckles and leans in, and his lips are about to press against hers when the phone up in the wheelhouse rings loudly. “Hold that thought.” Hunter takes the stairs two at a time and grabs the phone, “Yeah?”

“Hunter, it’s Fives.”

“Hey, vod. What’s up?”

“Listen. It was one of the agents.” Fives speaks quickly, “They pulled some strings, and they know where you are.”

Hunter goes cold, “Is he on the way?”

“Yes. The Feds are hoping to intercept him before he arrives at the Marauder. But, well.”

“It’s not going to happen.”

“No. He’s also killed three more women in the last week. That’s a total of at least 6 victims. Probably more based on some of the information that Phee and Tech have given me.”

“And he’s heading here.”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for the heads up, Fives.”

“Happy hunting, vod.”

“Will do.” Hunter hangs up the phone and heads back down to the deck. “You need to get below deck, Sunshine.”

She stares at him, eyes wide, “He found us, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, so it seems. Below deck. No one is going to hurt you so long as I’m around.” Hunter promises.

Slowly, she nods and turns to head below deck. Hunter follows her to the bottom of the stairs and grabs the fire door, to pull it shut.

“Be careful.” She whispers.

“Always am, Sunshine.” He pulls the fire door shut and makes sure that it’s properly sealed before he heads up and grabs his guns out of the safe, making sure that they’re loaded and the safety is off.

His Sunshine will be safe, any other option is out of the question. This asshole has terrorized her for long enough. It’s time to end this.

[tobigrimsbabyfaces]

Matching infant face templates for SpookyMuffin's Defaults!

A set of 28 (22 by me, 6 are original files from Meowingcookie and named appropriately) baby/infant face templates to match the defaults by SpookyMuffin. I made these for a friend as a thank you for testing my first set, but I figured someone else might use these default faces and want matching baby faces!

TO USE: Download SpookyMuffin's set at the link above and then download my baby faces and pop them into your mods folder together.

This will link these 22 defaults for babies to their toddler/child/teen/YA/adult/elder ages of the SpookyMuffin defaults which means you will be able to see your babies' genetics from birth! (Pictures below)

Keep in mind this will only take effect going forward (after you add my files) for newly generated characters, and it’s still something I’m testing generationally.

Many thanks to Meowingcookie from ModTheSims for the original Maxis baby face templates, and the tutorial to make my own defaults to match. I got there in the end!

Important info and download under the cut!

• This is not a complete set of defaults, so it is not a complete set of baby faces. If you still have the maxis defaults for the ‘missing’ faces in this set, your babies will not have matching maxis faces unless you download the extra files from Meowingcookie that start with BU alongside mine which start with TG.

Basically, if you use SpookyMuffin faces only and the other ones are original Maxis, you need the files from both 'TG' and 'BU (Meowingcookie). If you use other defaults for the other faces, it's up to you whether you want to use the BU Maxis match ones from Meowingcookie or just use my files and not the BU ones and your babies will have the regular face template #1 for the missing faces.

I hope this makes sense, feel free to message me if you need more info!

• There is also a bit of an issue with face #19. It looks very weird on babies and only slightly better on toddlers - but it fixes itself when the sim becomes a child:

You cannot have Meowingcookie's Maxis baby defaults and these defaults in your game at the same time - at least I presume you can't, because I used Meowingcookie's files.. not sure why you would want to anyways, because this is a set :)

I plan to make more of these to match a lot of the popular default replacements, so if you have any requests please let me know!

Download here: download (alternate)

[pascaloverx]

UNREQUITED LOVE

Summary: Being a new student is already complicated. But when you end up developing an unwanted crush on a schoolmate, everything seems to get worse. This particular schoolmate is romantically involved with someone. And to make matters worse, the popular school quarterback starts to bother you.

Author's Note: This fanfic will be short and set in the universe of the movie Bottoms (2023), directed by Emma Seligman, using the characters from the film. The characters do not belong to me. The fanfic will not strictly follow all the situations from the movie. I hope you enjoy it. Initially, there will be no adult content. There will only be inappropriate language and scenes of violence.

THREE FINAL

FOUR

A party at Rockbridge Falls High is just what you needed to feel more welcome. It’s been a week since you and Hazel kissed, a week since she answered that phone call from PJ. Ever since then, you’ve been trying to pretend nothing happened, attempting to socialize normally with PJ, Hazel, Josie, and Isabel. What that really means is that you haven’t been alone with Hazel since that kiss, in any situation. Your plan is to avoid Hazel and Jeff whenever possible. Unfortunately, it’s much harder to do than you thought. Jeff has taken a liking to teasing you, making it nearly impossible to actually avoid him. But avoiding Hazel is easier. Do you want to kiss her again? Yes. Do you want to dive into the drama of being involved with her? Absolutely not.

“I heard they’re looking for someone to take Brittany’s spot at the kissing booth. Any of you thinking of taking the risk?” Josie says, casually addressing the group. You, Josie, Isabel, Hazel, and PJ are all standing together, though you’ve positioned yourself far from PJ and Hazel. Regardless of their refusal to label themselves as a couple, you prefer to see them that way. It makes resisting the temptation much easier.

“I didn’t know there’d be a kissing booth. Seems like the kind of activity that could get messy. I mean, what if you end up having to kiss the wrong person? Like someone who’s already taken or someone unbearable, like Jeff? No offense, Isabel,” PJ says with a brief smile. Isabel bursts into laughter along with Josie. You, however, can’t even muster a laugh, consumed by the thought of “kissing someone who’s already taken.”

“A kiss doesn’t always have to mean something deeper. Sometimes we need to let go of the idea that kisses always have meaning, because they might not mean anything at all,” you say, interjecting, sounding a bit defensive. Your words come out slightly awkward, but Hazel looks at you, almost as if she’s upset—or maybe that’s just in your head.

“I have to disagree with you on that, Y/N. I think a kiss usually means something, even if it’s just pure physical attraction,” PJ says, and you look at her the way a sinner might look at a priest—desperate to confess. But how would that go? Would you just blurt out that you kissed Hazel? That you enjoyed being with her almost-girlfriend?

“But she could be right, at least in theory—a kiss is just a kiss. Nothing more. Like at a kissing booth, you kiss a bunch of different people, and it doesn’t mean anything beyond the potential for some weird mouth disease,” Josie chimes in, almost as if she’s secretly saving you. You feel a slight sense of relief, until you remember that you didn’t kiss Hazel at a kissing booth. So, Josie’s logic doesn’t apply to your situation at all.

“I believe it depends on who you kiss. If you kiss someone you have feelings for, you might not think it means nothing. Sometimes, you might even realize you want to keep kissing that person, even if they don’t feel the same.” Hazel says, catching you off guard. You suddenly feel cornered. Then, a rather foolish idea pops into your head.

“Guys, this conversation is great, but Brittany just messaged me saying if she has to kiss one more guy from the team, she’s going to lose it. Does anyone here think they could take her place? She promised me Jeff’s already passed by the booth, so he probably won’t show up again,” Isabel says, genuinely trying to help her friend. You feel like you’re the only one who could appropriately step in, being the single one in the group. Not to mention, it would prove that you don’t think kisses are all that meaningful.

“I’ll do it. You can let her know. I think it’ll be fun,” you say, more to convince yourself than to truly declare it. Isabel beams happily, while PJ and Josie cheer you on. Hazel, however, stays silent.

“And obviously, if you want to bail, we’ll be your alibi. We could try to distract someone, but it won’t be easy,” Josie says, attempting to offer support, though it’s not particularly reassuring. You wave to Brittany, who looks far too exhausted to show any excitement. It only takes a few minutes for you to take her place at the kissing booth.

Immediately bracing yourself to kiss strangers, you glance at the line of people waiting. What a terrible idea, kissing random people to prove that a kiss that meant so much to you didn’t mean anything at all. You give the first person in line—a girl who smelled of lavender—a slow, lingering kiss. She wasn’t a bad kisser, either. As you prepare for the next kiss, Jeff barges in like a peacock, pushing everyone aside, and stands right in front of you.

“What are you doing here, Jeff?” you ask, impatience clear in your voice, barely resisting the urge to roll your eyes or, worse, jump at his throat.

"Nerd," Jeff sneers, "I heard you were handing out your lips, so I had to make sure it wasn’t some cruel joke. Weren’t you supposed to be saving yourself for marriage or the convent?" His mocking tone is met with laughter from the rest of his teammates. It’s unbelievable how they all find his terrible joke amusing—none of them seem to have a real sense of humor anyway.

“Look, I get that you're just another jerk with an ego bigger than your head, but I find it hard to understand how my lips and what I do with them are any of your business,” you retort, moving closer to Jeff, your face inches from his. You lean back against the booth’s structure, and Jeff lets out an awkward laugh, clearly thrown off.

Before the awkwardness fully settles over Jeff, he suddenly leans in and steals a kiss. Not just a slow peck, but a full kiss. It's unsettling how well he kisses, and for a brief moment, you forget that you should be reacting to his ridiculous and forceful act. But as soon as his lips touch yours, you snap back and shove him away. Without hesitation, you throw a punch directly at his nose, hoping you’ve broken it.

"Are you trying to kill me, nerd? What the hell!" Jeff yells, spouting curses as he clutches his nose, which starts bleeding from the punch. You can see tears welling up in his eyes as he runs toward his friends. Great. For the second time in your life, you’re about to get expelled for punching a quarterback—or whatever Jeff is.

You leave the kissing booth without a second thought about who was in line or who should take your place. You just needed to walk and clear your head. Avoiding the girls entirely, you ran aimlessly until you reached the parking lot. Among the rows of cars, you leaned against the one you recognized—Hazel’s. With your eyes closed, you take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down.

"That was quite the punch you gave Jeff. I had a feeling you'd be here for some reason, and here you are—our newest heroine," Hazel says as she approaches you. You glance at her, clearly irritated, not in the mood for jokes, and she seems to pick up on that.

“Take a good look at this reckless fool,” you say, voice laced with regret. “In just a few weeks, I managed to kiss someone who’s taken and get kissed by a complete idiot. I even hurt my hand throwing that damn punch. Can you imagine how many ways they'll expel me if Jeff’s seriously hurt? I don’t even want to think about it.” You sigh, wishing you had aimed somewhere less obvious on Jeff. And maybe you shouldn’t have kissed Hazel either. But as you look at her now, smiling at you while stepping closer, you know deep down you probably would’ve kissed her anyway.

“He harassed you. Plus, Jeff will probably prefer to spread rumors or something instead. Admitting he got beat up by a girl is way too progressive for guys like him. But if you broke his nose, you’ll probably have to pay his hospital bill,” Hazel says, still smiling as she leans against the hood of her car next to you. You glance at her, judging her for being terrible at offering comfort.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re terrible at being a shoulder to cry on? Now I’m going to spend the rest of the night wishing for an expulsion,” you say, playfully poking Hazel in the arm before breaking into a smile.

“Has anyone ever told you that when you smile like that, you don’t look like a crazy person who hands out well-deserved punches and regrets things you shouldn’t?” Hazel says, her gaze steady on you. “I just want to make it clear that I don’t regret our kiss. I don’t think it was wrong either. I’m not committed, and neither are you.” You let out a long sigh, wishing you could fully believe her.

“You’re really tied to PJ, Hazel. I don’t want to be caught in the middle of you two while you’re still in love with her. We can pretend the kiss never happened and just try to be friends,” you suggest, resigning yourself to the fact that there will never be anything between you and Hazel.

“If you can forget about that kiss, I must have done something very wrong.” Hazel says in a playful, almost teasing tone, causing you to smile in response.

She looks at you, and you look back at her; both of you instantly aware that you want to repeat the previous mistake—the kiss. Before either of you can think of any reason not to kiss again, your lips meet hers. She leans her body against yours, pressing you down onto the hood of the car, savoring the kiss as if it were essential to her existence. You surrender to the moment, feeling Hazel’s hand caress your face as she kisses you passionately. For today, you don’t want to think about your mistakes or their consequences; you just want to focus on how being so close to Hazel brings you the comfort you’ve been longing for.

[miguel-owhora]

a rough timeline of the modern!morbell au

where they're in college and micah is also a youtuber who gets cancelled a lot, with a plot of being illegal lawyers. this is just a pre-tl to the actual college meeting, if that makes sense. might make other parts

Granddaddy Bell had connections to shady people with even shadier and illegal activities. He created Bell Inc., a law firm that would later grow into a powerhouse in its own right, as a cover up to do his shady business. He'd raise Daddy Bell to be his successor, and would instill his teachings into Jr., and pass down his years of crimes to his son. Later on, after his passing, Micah Bell Jr. would become the CEO of Bell Inc.

Around the time a then young Bell Jr. would take control of the firm, a few other firms popped up. In a similar fashion that Granddaddy Bell had taken, these firms would only open up to be a cover up for, again, shady business. Among these businesses would rise two household names: Van der Linde Ent. and O'Driscoll Corp. Both companies were once business partners, but after a case gone wrong, they ended up parting on bad terms, sparking a rivalry that would, behind doors, more often than not end in bloodshed.

A couple years down the line, Van der Linde founder and co-founder, Dutch Van der Linde and Hosea Matthews, would adopt a young boy by the name of Arthur Morgan, who would retain his last name. While Hosea clearly wanted to adopt a son for the sake of having a son, Dutch figured it'd be good for the business. He did, however, end up loving Arthur like a son. So much so that they ended up adopting another boy a couple years later, followed by their last child and only daughter; John Marston and Tilly Jackson, respectively. The age in which all three kids are adopted will be left up to interpretation, though it can be established that they were all above six years old.

During all of the Van der Linde-Matthews family growth, Micah Bell Jr. is raising his sons, Micah Bell III and Amos Bell, by himself, with the help of various nannies and maids, because, well, they come from old money. Surprisingly, despite his apparent darker and nihilistic views on life, Daddy Bell isn't a terrible father. Sure, he's strict and expects only the best from his sons, but which parent doesn't? No, Daddy Bell does try to be a good dad, and does try to raise his sons to be the best versions of themselves, and truly does love them.

Both set of parents, VDL-Matthews and Bell respectively, each try to instill similar teachings to their children. Both want their children to be lawyers so they can take over the firms, both want their children to know the way of crime and criminals, and both want their children to be the best versions of themselves.

It's around Micah Bell III's 14 years of being alive that does he begin to rebel. He becomes more argumentative and abrasive, he spends his allowance on the newest games and begins to skip classes to spend his time elsewhere. It's around this time that he uploads his first video, a ragebait of all topics, to YouTube, marking the beginning of a troll.

Timeskip to a couple years forward, Micah finds himself in college of all places. He has a decent following online, mostly of other people who either love him for his humor or hate him. He skips going to CC and jumps straight to university because, hello, he has the money, and though he doesn't want to be there at all, he studies pre-law, or something like that. Contrary to popular belief, he is rather intelligent, and having been raised by a lawyer of a father who read him law books to sleep, he has a good grasp on it.

A couple years later, Arthur Morgan enters the scene. Much like Micah, Arthur doesn't find his passion in law. But unlike Micah, Arthur's dads are understanding and support his aspiration to study art (or something similar.) Which is how Arthur finds himself at the same college as Micah, and how this AU came to be.

[trashytrashsblog]

So I want to make a rant or idk just give my opinion (?) about MCL:NG since seven episodes have passed.

I actually started writing it after the fifth episode but I abandoned it in the drafts... so lol.

I know that there is a section on the forum about it but my english is too bad and I need to curse. Also I'd like to comment freely with other players.

So let's get started!

The website is really cool and different it's like fresh air, sometimes is a little bit overwhelming (like the colours) nonetheless I like it. I don't get why there isn't italian in the languages, maybe we are less than I imagined.

The calendar is a cute idea but all the pop-ups when you collect the things instead of one are so annoying. Hope they make it into ONE single pop-up. Also when you get the jokers and they last three days and you can't or have nothing to play... like useless? okay? thanks?

The currencies? Don't let me started.... I get it, the game needs money to run but for fuck sake too many and poorly set. I can't get over the fact that I have to use APs for buying shit, every time I use them I feel bad because then I fear I won't have enough for the upcoming episode. Miss gold valute :(

The daily limited offer idk, I think it is a little bit too expensive for what it provides, especially considering that we can’t even choose the color scheme. Also, it doesn’t make sense to have a daily offer that you pay for when all the packs appear everytime. Although I read from some user on the forum that certain packs don't appear, dunno why. Anyways why don't you display all of them?

I have the same problem, like everyone, with the messages and the hearts. Hope they create a button where we can send and collect the hearts all at once. However I don't like so much the limited daily hearts. The graphics are very pretty though, and the messages we receive from the flirts at the end of the episode are a delight for me.

The minigames are more interactive compared to the MCL ones but I also have mixed feelings. The daily missions are a cute idea for collecting fashion items or forniture. Hope they add gems or something similar to find OR could the tickets buy other things that might be more useful like jokers. The Style contest could have been ten times nicer if it didn’t penalize you for not choosing the most popular outfit, which happens to be the one with more exclusive items. So it leads you to choose not what you prefer but what hypothetically everyone would choose. Recently I read about it from other players here on tumblr bc it's actually a bit ridiculous to see podiums all the same.

The wardrobe..... confusing as hell. Why there are items that I can't even try.... frustrating. At first I tought that the merged shop was a bad thing but now I changed my mind because this way I can see how the clothes go with the ones I already have. Speaking about graphics, I like them, I like the possibility of editing the room, Taki is a cute little accessory. The personalization choices of the character is satisfying but I miss the gray eyes they were my favourite :c Also I noticed that the expressions with the mouth open seem weird, as if there is something wrong in the proportins. But maybe it’s just me. I think there are less basic free items already present in comparison to MCL like moles, eyebrows, a little makeup...

Everything every single things brings me to a point were I feel the urge to buy packs, vips just for regular things (I don't know how to explain it) unlike the old games were it was funnier to buy special items.... now it seems like I'm buying base items beyond the extravagant ones.

The game dynamics left me perplexed at first, but I think I will have to get used to it. It’s a continuous and infinite expenditure of AP. Getting used to paying 2 AP for each answer was already difficult, but now having to pay even 40/80/120 aps… It makes me so mad... in italian I would say vafanguuul!!! The fact that i don't have the lov'o meter on sight I don't like it either and it seems that it only updates at the end of the episode and not in between or maybe I am wrong idk. Being able to relive the special moments however is a nice gem, especially after paying them. The briefing after finishing the episode is fun. Another thing that drives me MAD is having to buy the outfit after having already paid to fucking unlock it. At least give me the unlocked color???

BUT the illustrations, the story, the characters and their design ( god bless chinomiko) make me continue the game because it would be a lie to say that the story didn’t catch me (Jason Mendal I'm all yours and I wanna know everything about you) even tho the episodes are a little slow, maybe because we are just at the beginnig...expecting drama, fun time and some serious topics too...

And that's it, for now ahahahah xb

[fists-on-up]

I started this blog when Twitter looked like it was going down so I could keep up with my gaylor friends. Most of them are still on Twitter, but as a writer I am a wordy motherfucker & I hate character limits. So, rather than let this blog lay dormant I am going to use it for more personal gaylor related things & more abstract/complex perspectives.

I might as well start by explaining how I stumbled upon the gaylor community because I feel like my journey here was much different than most.

I am a little older than Taylor & have mostly listed to rock & EDM my whole life. I don't hate pop, but I don't really seek it out & I don't care much about trends or pop culture. I had heard the most popular Taylor Swift songs in passing. I didn't hate Taylor at all, I just never looked further into her music.

I do vaguely remember feeling like YBWM sounded very much like being in love with your high school best friend who doesn't consider you an option because you're a girl, and as a Shakespeare obsessed lesbian Love Story pinged the ol' gaydar because forbidden love is way more common for queer people. It's not impossible, though, for a girl's family to not approve of a particular boy so I chalked it up to a specific situation she faced coupled with me viewing lyrics through my own (very gay) experiences. Especially given the fact that Romeo & Juliet tends to be referenced often based upon a very surface-level understanding of the story.

These thoughts did stick with me subconsciously, as it turns out. One day I was listening to a Spotify generated playlist I was really digging and Don't Blame Me came on while I was in the shower. I thought "Wow, this is a very sexy, Sapphic song who the hell is this??" I checked when I got out of the shower & was so confused. I LOVED it and listened to it frequently, but it still hadn't clicked completely.

Then I heard only the bridge to Cruel Summer in a TikTok & said "Oh my God, she's gay!" I immediately recognized how painful & difficult it is to play the part of "friends" in public and the sense of doom that comes with realizing you're in love with a girl while closeted. If you've never had that experience, I envy you. How we treat people we're in love with isn't really planned out, it's automatic. Trying to catch that & substitute "friendly" behavior when you don't even know HOW to be her friend is very hard. It's hard to not feel insecure when the woman you love treats you like a friend, too. It's hard to hide the love and the pain if you wear your heart on your sleeve. In short, it's torture. A unique torture you can only really describe or recognize if you've experienced it. I have, and immediately knew Taylor had too.

As soon as this clicked I immediately devoured her entire discography over & over again. For days it was all I did, starting before I got out of bed and ending when I fell asleep with a notepad on my bed listening to evermore (again). I was 100% certain she is queer before I ever Googled "Taylor Swift gay?". I didn't even know there was lore or a community at first.

I didn't just recognize her queerness because I'm queer, however. I recognized it because I'm a writer. Not by profession. By passion, I suppose. And what really made it clear was what Taylor doesn't say.

I realized I was gay when I was 14 years old and when I did I wasn't scared, I was excited. I had come to the conclusion that the entire world was just... faking it. Girls would kiss boys & go on & on about it, almost every song, movie, & book was about love, and I just couldn't relate. I had kissed more than a few boys, but I seriously did not understand. I would pretend to fit in, but it was not at all appealing to me.

Then a friend stayed the night & kissed me. A friend that I wasn't consciously attracted to at all, and yet - fireworks. Suddenly I realized that people weren't exaggerating or lying about attraction & love. I realized that the concept of attraction wasn't merely recognizing that a boy was conventionally attractive, it was attraction like two magnets pulled together. Like gravity. I wasn't broken, the world wasn't a lie, and I was fucking ecstatic about it.

But then I told some close friends and most of them immediately stopped talking to me. Some became hostile. This was around 1999-2000 in Small Town, Texas where there were no out queer people. Looking back I understand that it was just a matter of kids being ignorant and uneducated and, well, kids but at the time it was confusing. I tried to backpedal and told the friends who stayed that I was bisexual. I even tried to be bisexual (spoiler: I am not). The excitement I initially felt quickly turned to fear & I chose to hide it from anyone else.

To cope with the constant overflow of my newly-activated heart and the isolation of having no one who understands, I poured myself into poetry. I started reading Shakespeare at 11 and had read most classical works by the same age. By 14 I had multiple poems published in collections, had read every work of Shakespeare & Poe, and had memorized the Chorus to Romeo & Juliet. Using poetry to cope was kind of my brand. So cope I did.

I wrote thousands of poems. I filled binders & spirals & journals. I was always writing. Most people knew I was published young & knew I was writing like crazy, so it wasn't uncommon for other kids to read what I was working on. Sometimes they'd commission a poem from me.

The fear of anyone finding out (including my parents) meant that I had to be very, very careful with how I worded things. No she/her pronouns. Nothing that would give me away. The occasional red herring. I would be specific enough that the muse would know it was about her, but no one else would.

I almost always wrote to the muse, using "you" more than anything. Poetry is like a love letter, so it comes naturally, but it also prevented the need for gendered pronouns. I wrote that way so much I still default to it now (and I have a hard time NOT pouring my heart out to anyone I care about). I didn't realize it at the time, but my writing was inherently queer coded despite my efforts to conceal it because, well, I'm queer. Sound familiar?

There are simply some things that are upside down when you're queer & you don't even recognize it because you've never NOT been queer. Things you say straight girls wouldn't. Things you don't say that straight girls would. Straight people don't see it because they've never NOT been straight. Hell, queer men won't recognize Sapphic language because they've never been attracted to a woman OR been a woman.

There are subtle, inherent tells separate from intentional tells or flags. I didn't realize that, and neither did the kids (or adults) who read my work semi-regularly.

One day my close friend borrowed my poetry journal to catch up on what I had written. This was an especially vulnerable journal, but it was just as obfuscated as everything else. I thought nothing of it and went about my day.

Hours later, during lunch, I was outside probably bumming a cigarette off of an equally punkass kid or smoking a bit of weed from a pipe crafted out of a soda can when I heard a girl shouting my name. I left the hidden corner and walked to the main area to see a girl I didn't know walking around, calling my name loudly over and over. I called back to her, confused but glad it wasn't a teacher busting me smoking.

When we were finally face to face she confirmed that I am in fact me & I realized that she was holding my journal. She pulled me to a more secluded area, looked me in my eyes, and said "these are about girls, right?"

Fuck.

Shit.

Fuck shit.

I was a sophomore. 15 years old. She was a senior. A beautiful black girl named Lovely who I only knew of because it was a small school. And here she was just... straight up asking me. No one had ever asked me before. I had never had to answer this question before. I was caught off guard & wholly unprepared for this.

The closet is an awful place when you hate lying.

So, I didn't lie. For some reason I looked right into this girl's eyes and reluctantly, fearfully, said "Yes." Then I held my breath.

But she didn't laugh at me, didn't call me a dyke, didn't preach at me. She just... fucking cried.

This lovely girl named Lovely completely broke down in front of me, a complete stranger, and I did not realize what was happening.

Turns out Lovely wasn't just lovely, she was queer. And scared. And so, so lonely. She thought she was the only one, until she heard what my poetry didn't say. She recognized the inherent queerness in my writing because she identified with it and immediately came to find me.

I consider that conversation to be one of the most pivotal, defining interactions of my life. The entire time I thought I was alone & Lovely was there. Lovely thought she was alone & I was there, and I suddenly realized coming out wasn't really about me. It wasn't about the friends and family who would reject me. It was also about being visible. Being brave. Being proud. It was about the other queer kids who thought they were the only one. The other kids who couldn't come out. With this realization, from this conversation, I found purpose.

The very next day, Lovely came to school in baggy jeans and a basketball jersey - a huge departure from the very feminine presentation she always had. We never talked about it again, just exchanged fond smiles and nods in the hallway, but she came out to some extent. I came out within a week of our conversation, and I made a conscious decision that I was going to be loud about it.

My mom was great when I came out & I knew she'd have my back. Before the word "privilege" was commonplace, I at least understood that my supportive mom gave me an advantage others didn't have. I felt like I had not only the ability but the responsibility to be visible and unapologetic.

I was a rebellious little shit. I would make out with girls in the hallway. I lined the inside of my locker with Playboy pictures. I wrote "gay" on my forehead in hot pink lipstick when I got sick of being asked if I was "fully gay".

As a result, the varsity quarterback would call me in tears to talk through his struggles with his sexuality. I knew the most popular boys all of the girls wanted were actually very in love with each other. Girls who would laugh along with their friends who called me a dyke would hook their fingers into mine when they passed me in the hallway & pull me into dark rooms at parties when no one was looking.

I became the keeper of secrets. Society makes queer people lie & uses the guilt of that "deception" to keep people closeted. We lie to ourselves, then to everyone else, then to all but a few trusted people, then even when we're out we lie on behalf of others. I still hold secrets, even for those who don't "deserve" my loyalty. It's part of it, like an unspoken code. Closeting is lying, whether we like that or not. But lying is morally neutral. Intent & impact matter.

That time of my life was hard. Teachers would treat me differently. One flat out told me I would go to hell in front of the class. Another refused to intervene when my girlfriend was physically attacked by another girl who was pissed about her dating me. The school tried, for a time, to force me to use the boys locker room so other girls wouldn't feel uncomfortable. The school tried to ban me from taking a girl to prom (even though I was taking a friend, my girlfriend's family wouldn't allow her to go with me). A group of boys chanted "1, 2, 3, 4, death to the lesbian whore" when I got to school every morning. I got in a lot of fist fights. Mostly with that group of boys. Someone broke into my locker and wrote "dyke" all over & inside of my text books in huge magic marker. I remember telling one of my teachers I couldn't read part of an assignment because of it & trying not to cry. I was preached at constantly by kids & a few teachers who saw me as an opportunity to "save a soul". I have a lot of stories.

But you know what? I got the teacher that told me I would go to hell fired. I fought back when they tried to make me use the boys locker room. When they tried to ban me from prom, I printed hundreds of pages of court rulings from cases in which schools tried to do that to other gay kids, stormed into the principal's office, dropped it on her desk and threatened her. I went to prom with my friend. And after I had graduated, my high school girlfriend (who was a grade below me) finally got to take me to hers. A gay boy I'd never met won prom king and he thanked me for it. I didn't even know him, but he knew me. I won every single fist fight. I didn't cry about the slurs written in my books in front of people & I protested when they washed it off of the front of my locker. I wanted it to be the dyke locker. I took everything they gave me with a smile & asked for more, because it showed other kids it was possible. I made myself a lightning rod for hate on purpose, because then the "less problematic" queer kids were seen in a better light. It protected them. It also made sure they knew I was there. And they came to me & I did my best to help. I chased girls & have so many stories about drunken hookups and falling in love. Wild nights & happy days.

Don't get me wrong, I fucked up plenty too. I certainly wasn't a hero, and I put myself in very real danger multiple times. There were a lot of failures & mistakes. There was a lot of pain. But it was absolutely, positively fucking worth it. Despite it all I look back on that time fondly & I'd do it all again in a heartbeat. And I'd do it the same.

That time of my life shaped who I am in every way. I'm still that punkass kid (even though I'm pushing 40 now). Still a fighter who doesn't care how much pain I endure if I'm doing the right thing. And I never would have become that person if a girl named Lovely hadn't picked up on the queer themes in my writing that I wasn't even intentionally adding. So for me, it's kind of serendipitous that the very thing that led me to becoming everything I am today is the thing that I saw & heard in Taylor. That led me to so much beautiful art, beautiful love stories, and beautiful people in the gaylor community that is so, so dear to me now.

It takes one to know one, but sometimes knowing one puts you on the path to knowing yourself.

[hephaestiions]

Inspired by your Drarry fic recs and your amazing Flintwood fic, do you have any Flintwood recs or personal favorites?

ah! fantastic ask, anon! flintwood was, incidentally, my earliest hp ship & maintains a soft spot after all these years. their functions in canon (quidditch captains of rival houses, pinnacles of a certain kind of obsessive, single-minded, aggressive athletic masculinity) conduce some of the most raw and gritty characterisations— kind of like if tracing your tongue along the jagged, broken end of a tooth was a ship. flintwood encapsulates a very specific kind of mood— a foregrounded physicality, a delicious emotional dimension balancing both subtlety and brashness. this ship is especially delightful when you're in the mood for some deferred emotional payoff, a little out of reach and more satisfying for it.

(tw for some discussions of queerphobia & masculinity!)

flintwood also works with and subverts some common stereotypes & tropes associated with sports as a site of exalted & amplified masculinity. oliver and marcus are both, in fic, often representations of what a popular (largely homophobic & patriarchal) culture understands as 'masculine ideal stereotypes'— physically hulking, emotionally repressed, narrow-focused, a little dangerous. and flintwood, as a ship, is crucially also about these 'ideal men' making the choice to step away from the hallowed halls of homosociality towards explicit queer desire, dynamics and love.

i'm getting into this because a large selection of flintwood fics i've loved deal (overtly or covertly) with coming to terms with queer awakenings, reckoning with being queer men in sports and similar explorations. my flintwood fic (thank you for reading it, anon!), addictive tendencies (~4k, T, tw for internalised homophobia) also grapples with this fairly significantly. in fact, even when the central tension isn’t explicitly about a queer reckoning, and the worldbuilding has little/no queerphobia, many excellent flintwood fics have some of the themes, ideas and tropes you find in literature accounting for our society’s (often disparaging) attitude towards queerness: a desire both intense and grudging, a sense of “i can’t have this person” justified through rivalry and/or jealousy, poignant internal conflicts, etc.

anyway, enough talk, here's a selection of flintwood fics i've dearly enjoyed, hope you do too! mind the tags & notes & remember to send some love the authors' way :)

best kept secrets by slyther_ing (M, 1.8k)

Marcus Flint is leaning up by the metal chainlink fence - gum popping, grin flashing white, and Oliver has the urge to run away because everything in the taller boy’s stature screams trouble, trouble, trouble.

twenty gauge by provocative_envy (T, 3k)

It takes Marcus less than ninety seconds to determine that his four o'clock is an aggressively annoying piece of shit.

wake up, get up, shut up by provocative_envy (E, 4.2k)

Marcus is twenty-three and half-concussed when it finally occurs to him that he might actually kind of sort of be really into dudes.

rugby boys, they play 15s by thistlecat (M, 4.5k)

Fifteen significant moments in Oliver Wood’s collegiate rugby career that did not make his highlight tape.

no vacancy by provocative_envy (M, 10.1k)

The dreams are frightening, at first.

true but not nice by v (E, 10.2k)

Marcus found out about it from Warrington, who heard it from Montague, who heard it from Derrick, who heard it from Nott, who heard it from Zabini, who heard it from Malfoy, who they said heard from the Quidditch dressing room, which really just meant that Marcus was going to fucking kill him.

self preservation by al-the-remix (E, 17.8k)

Outside the night had grown dark, and at some point Oliver had moved to perch on the edge of Marcus' bed, thigh pressed against his and tray settled between them. As if they had some sort of understanding. As if they were friends.