#it's like. it could be worse. if my team was awful i would have quit already

[augustwinesworld]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫

who's worse: levi or furlan?

description: tired of the constant bickering, Furlan devises a scheme to make you and Levi cooperate, which ends up with both of you trapped together…

pairing: underground! levi x underground! reader

genre: idk what to call this (angst? fighting? crack?)

notes: this was so fun to write lmaoo. also got another tattoo and it looks sooo good

word count: 2.3 k

extra: moodboard | playlist | ☆:**:. 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐞 .:**:.☆ 

Feel free to #𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 (◕‿◕✿) *:･ﾟ✧ if you have any scenarios in mind! I might not write everything but I’ll respond to everyone.

series masterlist: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭

Furlan had had enough.

The constant bickering between you and Levi was grating on his nerves—and, quite frankly, slowing them down. Whether it was over strategy, supplies, or who got to sit fucking where, you two found something to argue about. 

He sat at the edge of the rickety table in their shared hideout, arms crossed as he watched you and Levi go at it—again.

This time, it was about a supply run that had turned into a shouting match over whose “plan” had been better, despite the fact that they’d both technically worked.

“You’re a control freak!” you snapped, jabbing a finger toward Levi. “Not everyone wants to solve their problems by staring someone into submission.”

“And you’re reckless,” Levi shot back, “half of what you do is guesswork. Lucky guesswork, at that.”

Furlan let out a long, exaggerated sigh, cutting through the noise. “Okay, enough. I swear, you two bicker more than old married couples in the market square.”

You and Levi turned on him at the same time. “Stay out of it, Furlan!”

“Oh, trust me, I’m in it now,” he replied, a smirk tugging at his lips. “And I’ve got the perfect solution. You two are going to work together—alone—on the next deal with Garret.”

“What?” you and Levi said in unison, disbelief written all over your faces.

“You heard me,” Furlan replied, crossing his arms. “I’ve got other things to handle. You two go negotiate with Garret for the shipment. It’s simple—no need to overcomplicate it. Maybe you’ll figure out how to act like grown-ups in the process.”

Levi scowled, his arms tightly crossing over his chest “That idiot Garret hates me. Why the hell would I go?”

You snorted, unable to resist the jab. “Man, I wonder why. Could it be your sparkling personality? Or maybe it’s because you called him a halfwit the last time we dealt with him.”

Levi shot you a glare sharp enough to cut through steel. “He is a halfwit,” he retorted flatly. “I was just pointing out the obvious.”

“Well, the ‘obvious’ almost lost us the deal last time,”

“Do you ever shut up?” Levi growled, his eyes narrowing as he stepped closer, his voice low and laced with irritation.

“Do you ever lighten up?” you shot back, your tone dripping with feigned innocence. “It’s not my fault Garret would rather eat glass than talk to you.”

Furlan sighed dramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose as he watched the two of you square off. “And here we go again,” he muttered under his breath before raising his voice. “Exactly,” he said, “so, figure it out.”

Levi glared at him, his jaw tightening. “You’re serious? That idiot won’t even let us through the door without starting something.”

Furlan gave an exaggerated shrug, completely unbothered. “Then don’t give him a reason. Or better yet, don’t let yourselves be the reason.”

“Easier said than done,” you muttered, earning another sharp look from Levi. “Also, that’s rich, coming from the guy who’s conveniently skipping out on this.”

“Exactly why I trust you two to handle it,” Furlan replied smoothly, his grin practically glowing with mischief. “Think of it as a learning opportunity—team-building, if you will.”

You narrowed your eyes, folding your arms across your chest. “Sometimes, I wonder why we keep you around.”

“Aw, don’t be like that. You’ll miss me when I’m gone,” Furlan teased, already turning to leave. “Good luck. Try not to kill each other before you get to Garret—or after.”

The moment he was gone, the tension between you and Levi crackled like a live wire.

“Fantastic,” you muttered, throwing up your hands. “Nothing like a forced bonding exercise with someone who’s incapable of being pleasant for more than two seconds.”

Levi’s glare didn’t falter. “Just stay out of my way, and maybe we’ll get through this without killing each other.”

“No promises,” you replied, your smirk returning. “But I’ll try to keep you from saying something stupid. Again.”

He let out a slow, frustrated exhale, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was reconsidering his entire life. “This is going to be hell.”

And somehow, you both knew he was probably right.

Despite your protests, Furlan was resolute. The next day, you found yourself standing next to Levi in the dingy, dimly lit meeting room of Garret’s warehouse.

Garret himself was a young man, weirdly handsome and, with a suspicious glare, his arms crossed as he sized you both up.

“Well, this is new,” Garret muttered, his tone flat as his arms crossed over his chest. “Usually, I only have to deal with one headache at a time. What gives?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but Levi cut in, his tone sharp and to the point. “We’re here for the shipment. You’ve got it, or you don’t. No need to drag this out.”

Garret’s eyes narrowed, his body stiffening at Levi’s bluntness. “Right. Of course,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Wouldn’t want to waste your precious time.”

You stepped in quickly, leveling a calm smile at Garret. “Levi means we’d like to wrap this up efficiently. We both know your shipments are top quality—we wouldn’t trust anyone else.”

Garret’s lip twitched, but it wasn’t quite a smile. “Sure. And I suppose he’s here to glare me into giving you a discount?” His tone turned icy as his gaze shifted back to Levi. “You know, your attitude’s half the reason people hate dealing with you.”

Levi crossed his arms, his expression unreadable but his presence radiating tension. “Maybe if people didn’t waste my time, I wouldn’t have to deal with idiots.”

“Levi,” you cut in, your tone low and measured, though irritation flickered behind your words. “We’re here to negotiate, not insult the guy who controls the shipment.”

Garret laughed bitterly. “Oh, please, by all means, keep bickering. It’s very entertaining.”

You turned to Garret, your patience starting to wear thin but your tone still steady. “Look, we’re not here to cause trouble. You want professionalism? Let’s talk terms. We know what your shipments are worth, and we’re ready to pay fair.”

“Fair?” Garret’s brows lifted in mock surprise. “That’s a word I don’t usually hear from people like you two.”

Levi’s jaw tightened, but you stepped forward slightly, cutting him off before he could say anything. “We’re serious about this deal. And I think you are too, or you wouldn’t still be standing here.”

Levi scoffed, his sharp gaze cutting to you. “You’re wasting time. Garret doesn’t care about your sweet-talking.”

“And you’re not helping by acting like you’ve got a knife to his throat,” you shot back, your voice low but heated. “Do you even know what ‘negotiation’ means?”

Levi’s eyes narrowed, his tone dropping further. “Yeah, it means not overcomplicating things. Maybe you should try it.”

You crossed your arms, stepping closer to him as your irritation bubbled over. “And maybe you should try not pissing off the one guy who can get us what we need.”

“Keep your voice down,” Levi hissed, his posture stiffening. “You think you’re helping, but all you’re doing is proving you can’t handle this.”

“Proving—are you serious?” you snapped, your voice rising just enough to earn a sharp glance from Garret. “You’re the one stomping around like you own the place!”

“Better than acting like a lapdog,” Levi muttered, his tone cutting.

“Lapdog?!” you echoed, your eyes narrowing dangerously. “At least I know how to talk to people without making them want to kill me.”

Levi opened his mouth to fire back, but a clap interrupted.

Garret tilted his head, studying you for a moment. Then, with a sharp wave of his hand, he signaled his men, who moved to block the door, locking it with an audible click.

“Here’s the deal,” Garret said, his voice dropping. “You two can sit here and work out whatever your problem is. When you stop acting like a couple of kids fighting over a toy, maybe I’ll come back and consider doing business with you.”

Without another word, he strode past, his men following close behind. The door shut with a thud, leaving you and Levi alone in the tense, dimly lit room.

Levi exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fantastic,” he muttered. “This is why I hate dealing with idiots like him.”

You shot him a sharp look. “Maybe if you didn’t treat everyone like an enemy, we wouldn’t be locked in here right now.”

“Maybe if you didn’t feel the need to jump in every five seconds, we’d already be done,” Levi countered, his voice cold.

Fuck you asshole—and while we're at it—fuck you too Furlan.

Levi’s jaw tightened as the sound of the lock clicking into place echoed in the room. “Perfect,” he muttered, “I told you to let me handle it.”

“And I told you to stop being such a—” You paused, gesturing vaguely in frustration. “Whatever it is you’re always being.” Arms crossed as you leaned against the wall.

"This is exactly what happens when you don’t listen.”

You scoffed, pushing yourself off the wall. “Oh, right, because glaring at him and barking orders would’ve totally worked. Great plan, Levi.”

“Yeah? How’s that diplomacy working out for us now?” Levi shot back, glaring.

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. Let’s just figure out how to get out of here, genius.”

His sharp gaze snapped to you, your restraint only fueling his resentment. “At least my plan didn’t involve stroking his ego like he’s some Underground king.”

You raised an eyebrow, arms crossing tightly over your chest. “No, your plan was to piss him off and get us locked in here. Real smooth.”

“You’re the one who couldn’t keep your mouth shut,” Levi shot back, stepping closer, his tone low and clipped. “Maybe if you’d let me handle it—”

“Handle it?” you cut him off, throwing your hands up. “The only thing you’re handling is your own ego. Not everyone folds just because you give them the Levi glare, you know.”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping even lower. “And not everyone’s swayed by your half-baked charm, either.”

The two of you stood toe-to-toe, the tension between you thick enough to cut. For a moment, neither of you spoke, your sharp breaths the only sound in the room.

Finally, you exhaled sharply, breaking the stalemate. “Fine. Let’s just figure out how to get out of here before Garret decides we’re not worth the trouble.”

Levi gave a faint scoff, shaking his head as he turned away. “Maybe for once, try not making things worse.”

“Right back at you,” you muttered under your breath, though your tone lacked its earlier fire.

“Both of you, shut it,” Furlan’s voice crackled through the barred window on the door.

You froze, realizing Furlan was listening in the entire time. “Furlan?”

“Yep,” he said smugly. “Garret’s actually a great buddy of mine. I asked him to help me teach you two a little lesson in teamwork. Don’t worry, you’re not actually in danger.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re kidding me.”

“Not even a little,” Furlan said, his amusement clear. “You’ve got one hour to figure out how to work together and get out. I’ll be watching.”

Levi exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Unbelievable.”

“Better start cooperating,” Furlan added before the line clicked off.

Forced to rely on each other, you and Levi began working through the problem. Tensions ran high at first, with your usual sarcastic quips and Levi’s brusque comments clashing at every turn. 

“What now?” you asked, leaning against the wall.

“We get out,” Levi said simply, already inspecting the locked door.

His calm determination only annoyed you further. “Oh, brilliant. And here I thought we’d just sit here forever.”

“Do you ever stop talking?” Levi muttered, crouching to examine the lock more closely.

“Do you ever start?” you shot back.

Despite the bickering, the two of you eventually fell into an uneasy rhythm.

Levi’s methodical approach balanced out your impulsiveness, and your knack for spotting details he missed proved surprisingly useful.

Slowly but surely, you began to realize that, annoying as he was, Levi was good at what he did—and, begrudgingly, he admitted that you weren’t half bad either.

As the minutes ticked by, the frustration between you dulled into something more focused.

Levi knelt by the lock, studying its mechanism with a precision that bordered on obsessive. “It’s jammed. Cheap work, though,” he muttered, his tone clipped but oddly calm.

You crouched beside him, holding back a snarky remark for once. “Let me try something,” you said, leaning closer to examine the lock.

Levi raised an eyebrow but shifted slightly, giving you room. “Don’t break it,” he warned.

“Not planning to,” you replied, pulling a thin, improvised tool from your pocket. With a few careful movements, you felt the lock give, the faint click of success echoing in the tense silence.

Levi straightened, his sharp gaze flicking to you. “Huh. Guess you’re not completely useless.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Coming from you, that’s practically a compliment.”

He scoffed, his eyes narrowing slightly, but didn’t argue. That was as close to a win as you were going to get.

When the door swung open, it revealed Furlan leaning casually against the wall, a smug grin on his face. “Well, look at that. Teamwork really does make the dream work.”

You glared at him, but Levi brushed past without a word, muttering something about how this whole thing was a waste of time.

Furlan chuckled. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

You crossed your arms, shaking your head. “Next time, you’re getting locked in a room with him.”

“Fair,” Furlan said with a laugh, clapping you on the shoulder. “But admit it—you two make a pretty good team.”

You didn’t reply, but as you watched Levi’s retreating figure, a small part of you wondered if Furlan was right.

Maybe...

next chapter↠

© AUGUSTWINESWORLD : no translation, plagiarism, or cross posting.

[boltlightning]

you know the burnout is bad when your entire team, supervisor included, admits to job hunting as a form of stress relief

[adore-gregor]

.

[luveline]

imagine being giddy while out with the BAU team getting tipsy and talking about your sex life. but the reader is secretly dating hotch, so she stays quite. until one of the girls starts hounding reader about how she said her current partner is the best sex she’s ever had. and hotch just tries to not be a cheeky little shit.

this is not quite what u meant but I hope it's OK! ♥︎ fem!reader

There's a girl across the way. Tall, gorgeous, making eyes at Derek Morgan like her life depends on it. 

"Morgan, come on," Emily says, "I thought you had game. This is just sad." 

Morgan nods agreeably, an action dripping in sarcasm, and downs the rest of his drink. "I got better than game," he says, patting Emily on the arm as he stands. 

"What's better than game?" she asks incredulously, twisting in her seat to follow Morgan's path with her eyes before turning back to you and the others, expression reflecting her disbelief. 

"I should've let him buy me that appletini he promised me," you say, dipping your head toward Hotch on your left, and Rossi on his. "I don't think he's coming back." 

"I'll get it," Hotch says. 

"Always on the boss to pick up the slack," Rossi drawls with a smirk.

Hotch nearly laughs. "Another round. The same for everyone?" 

"I wouldn't mind an appletini, boss," JJ jokes. 

"You know, he'll actually get you one now," Emily says, all of you turned to watch him making his way to the bar. 

Morgan and his gorgeous girl are hitting it off quite clearly halfway down the bar. JJ, who's a little tipsy already, beams at them and wiggles her shoulders. 

"I think somebody's getting lucky," she says. 

"I hate to say it, but I'm jealous of Morgan right now. Don't," Emily says, sliding down into her seat, "tell him I said that." 

"I thought you were steady with that guy," you say sympathetically, "the chiropractor." 

Emily moans out in sadness. "I was. Turns out guys don't like when you cancel four dates in a row. He... was really good at his job." 

Emily might be more intoxicated than you'd thought. You laugh too loudly and think maybe you are, too. 

Hotch approaches from the left with a tray of drinks in hand and you slide your chair out of his way, feeling his "Thank you," warm the back of your neck. 

"Laugh at my pain," Emily says at your giggling.

You shuffle forward to hear her better over the small hubbub of Hotch, Rossi and Reid sorting drinks into place. Penelope appears again from her excursion to the bathroom and slides right into Morgan's empty seat. 

"What about you and mystery man?" Emily asks.

You're less subtle than you should be, your eyes straying to the shadow of Hotch in your peripherals. "What about him?" 

"Is that still going well?"

"It's going more than well," JJ says knowingly, retrieving her appletini with a sweet thanks. "What did you tell me on the way back from Illinois?" 

"I told you that in confidence," you rush to say, to plead, eyes widening. "Tired confidence." 

"What did she say?" Emily asks, her smile turning evil. 

JJ laya back in her seat, almost tipping her drink, and covers her eyebrows with her index finger. Everyone knows immediately that she's imitating you, worse when she puts on a quiet awe. "I didn't know it could be like that. I mean, I didn't realise a man would care so much about making sure I feel good." She fans her face. "And he really cares, JJ." 

"Please don't," you say, covering your face with both hands. You're not truly upset, but it's embarrassing nonetheless. 

"It's sweet!" JJ cries. 

"What? You're having heart to hearts without me?" Penelope asks. 

"It wasn't a heart to heart, Pen, I was just tired, and–" 

"So you didn't mean it?" 

The entire table waits for your answer. You feel Hotch's silence louder than everybody else's, and you're so flustered you don't know what to do. You hadn't counted on letting him in on how happy you are in the bedroom, not this soon. 

"I meant it," you breathe, "but it's not something I wanted to share with everybody." 

"No? You won't want me to tell them about how big his hands are, then," JJ says. 

"JJ," Hotch says, and you can hear his awful smile, "let's not embarrass her too much."

Emily jumps to your defence, and soon the table has turned on JJ completely, jokes about one specific New Orleans accent taking centre stage. 

Hotch slides your appletini closer while they're distracted. "He cares, honey. More than you know." 

You take a shuddering breath. "I know," you say, voice small. 

"You do? So you won't need reminding?" 

"How about you, sir? Things still going well with that younger girl?" Penelope asks, all gossip. 

A big hand lands on your thigh. You still, the heat of his skin seeping down into yours as he inches inward. 

"I'd say things were going well," Hotch says. He punctuates with a secret squeeze. "She might say differently." 

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Parkers, Pots & Periods 

Summary: Reader is Peter’s sister and is going on a field trip to stark industries, the catch? She’s on her period and has POTS… things go badly and Wanda and Nat step in to take care of you. 

Words: 2324

TW: Periods, Pain, nausea (no puking), POTS, Cramps, Bullying, fainting, name calling, Flash (that’s its own warning), Flashes “nicknames” for peter, field trip trope. 

A/n Hi guys I’m alive! Sorry for disappearing (kinda). My life is chaos incarnate. I accidently got stabbed in the thigh yesterday.  But I stuck an avengers Band-Aid on it and I was fine :D

Somehow the universe decided to screw your over three times today. The first, you had POTS, whilst not a new condition it did make the next two things worse. Second you had a trip to stark towers which meant a lot of standing on a tour and being around your class and knowing the avengers would be lurking nearby. And third, the real icing on the cake … you were on your period as if you had blood to lose as someone with POTS and a low blood volume to start with. 

So that was how you were doing today as you arrived at school. Sure, you had graduated about three years ago but there had been talks that someone had found out Peter’s identity and was planning something, which was how you ended up undercover to be a glorified bodyguard for peter… well a glorified babysitter with homework.  You had been chosen by the team as you were the second youngest next to Peter and as a lesser-known member of the team who was young, you could pass as a high school student without raising suspicions. ‘Yay me.’ You thought sarcastically. Leaving high school was amazing and having to go back to babysit your little brother… not so much. 

You skipped training this morning as you were already feeling quite awful due to your period and your POTS which was always made worse when it was shark week. 

As you arrived at school with Peter, happy dropped you both at the block around the corner and you shouldered your old school backpack and sighed. 

“Let’s get this over with.” You grumbled and peter nodded. Neither of you feeling particularly excited to go on a trip through your own house with classmates who hated you. 

Peter was just as unhappy; flash had been giving him shit all week for his internship and wanted desperately to prove the Parker boy a liar today. When you had found out about the bullying you almost intervened before Peter had a talk with you. He reminded you of what uncle ben had said to you both before he died, and your eyes glossed over as you made the decision to respect his wishes and promise to your late uncle. 

As your shoes slapped the pavement with exaggerated steps and dragging movements, a grin itched your face when Ned began waving to you from across the quad. MJ looked up and gave a single half handed wave cross salute before going back to her sketchbook, her legs kicked up on the picnic table. 

You liked MJ and Ned. They had welcomed you to their group and they knew that you had already graduated but agreed to stay quiet if it meant keeping peter safe. They both knew you and your brothers’ real identities. As the second spider that protected the city aside from your brother and Natasha you had decided to keep your identity quiet until Peter graduated, knowing he would have just as many issues with the press if you were unmasked before he graduated compared to him being unmasked. 

You threw your backpack down and threw your head into your arms, letting out an exaggerated groan. 

“You feelin’ alright bonehead?” MJ said looking up from her sketch. 

You simply grunted before turning your head, still resting on your arms to look at her through a furrowed brow. 

“Shark week.” Was all you said, and MJ nodded before turning to her bag and digging around before fishing out a chocolate bar she threw at your head. Your spider sense kicked in and your hand flew up and caught it. 

“Thanks MJ.” You grunted. 

“Anytime Parker.” She said going back to her sketchbook. You leaned over to glance at the page and snorted. MJ simply suppressed a grin and kept working on the detailed drawing of Flash trapped in a display case at stark towers with a placard that read “Bullied Peter Stark, glass tapping encouraged.” With a drawing of Tony leaning on the display case eating a banana with Nat handing out tomatoes to the rest of the team to throw at flash. Leave it to MJ to make this trip better. 

You thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. But curse your Parker luck because that was the moment flash began to storm over. MJ quickly shut her sketchbook as flash stood over Peter.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t penis Parker. I wasn’t expecting you to show up today. With your big lie going public today I thought you would be too much of a wuss to show up. Prepare to be publicly humiliated Parker. Today is the day your life is torn to shreds.” He said.

“Like the lie about you having a brain flash ‘cuz I think everyone knows that’s fake.” MJ said flicking a few pencil shavings at him. She glared at him, and he glared back before huffing. 

“Whatever idiots. I’ll see you on the bus. Parker don’t forget I would hate for you to miss your public execution.” He spat and headed off to wherever it was Flash lurked between tormenting Peter.

“Petey…” you began. 

“No y/n I’m handling it.” He said shutting you down. 

“Alright. Alright. I’ll leave it alone.” You said while silently wishing a piano to miraculously fall on flash. You desperately wanted to help but you also wanted to respect Peter’s decision especially as you knew his reason was fuelled by a very personal experience that had changed both of you tremendously. 

As the last class before the field trip ended you felt like death warmed over. Your head hurt and your period was only making your POTS worse. As you stood from your chair, you had to hold onto the table as your vision went fuzzy for a second. When your sight cleared Peter shot you a pointed look which you shrugged off and headed for the bus. 

If there was one thing you didn’t miss from high school it was field trips, twenty sweaty teenagers in a bus for who knows how long, most likely with no air conditioning which would only contribute to you feeling worse.  None of that was appealing to you in the slightest. 

As you all filed onto the bus you groaned when you sat down, putting your head in your hands, and taking deep breaths. The cramps had been getting worse all day and they were toeing the line of unbearable. 

MJ sat next to you and kept a close eye on your movements or lack thereof. 

As the bus lurched with the traffic you suppressed any of the wounded animal noises that were trying to escape you.

After what seemed like a torturously long bus trip you felt the bus slow to a stop. Looking outside the logo of stark towers was the first thing your eyes fixed on. 

As everyone filed off the bus you swayed slightly trying to fight off the dizzy lightheaded mess along with the cramping. Life really wasn’t being kind to you. 

With a hand resting around your stomach, you watched Peter sidestep flashes foot and walk inside. 

The building was cool when you entered which made you feel a tiny bit better but still largely awful. 

As the tour guide passed out the lanyards you and Peter hung around in the back. 

“I bet puny Parker won’t even have a lanyard, he’s too poor to be let in.” Flash said nearby and your fist tightened at your side in an attempt to stay there. 

When all the passes were handed out Flash was the first to point out you and Peter didn’t have one. 

“Hey! The Parker’s are missing their badges. We’ll have to leave them behind. Sorry no poor people allowed.” He said with a big grin and Peter looked like a deer in headlights as everyone turned to face the two of you. You just shrugged. 

“Friday?” The tour guide asked. “Has there been a mistake?”

“Ms Parker and Mister Parker do not require badges as they have tier 10 clearance, access is granted to all floors, labs and rooms.” A voice said from the ceiling startling a few people.

“That’s Friday.” The tour guide explained “she’s tony starks AI and she runs the tower.”

“I don’t know how you hacked the system, but you will pay Parker’s.” Flash said sticking a finger in Peter’s face. 

“Whatever flash, you’re just mad that you have level 1 clearance and can’t go in the toilets without permission.”  MJ said as flash stormed off after the group. 

As the tour progressed you were feeling worse and worse, all this walking was making the cramps worse, and all the standing was aggregating your POTS. Your vision had been spotty for a while now and your legs hurt. Your midsection was cramping something awful, and you saw no end in sight. 

As the group was shown to the museum floor you did your best to stay rooted to your body as your head felt like it was floating away. 

“Y/n/n you should really go home. If you sneak off upstairs, I’ll cover for you.” Peter said and MJ nodded. 

“I know your white girl, but you’re not meant to be that white… ever.” MJ said and you shot her a small glare with did nothing to deter her. 

“Can’t I have to stay with Peter.” You said swallowing down the nausea you had begun to feel. 

“I can look out for myself.” He said in a soft tone. But you shook your head which was a terrible idea as you swayed, having to lean on the wall the stay upright. 

“Right, that’s enough….” Peter begun but your hearing was fading as Peter seemed to keep talking. 

As your hearing and vision began to drift away Peter began softly alerting Friday to the situation, as he requested Wanda of Natasha to come and get you.

As he saw a flash of red hair down the hall, his spider sense flared, and he was just in time to catch you as your body finally gave up and went slack. 

Natasha seemed to arrive almost at the same time you passed out into Peter’s arms. 

The group had moved on and it seemed they were none to wiser to the avenger’s presence. 

Peter looked panicked for a second as he held you up. 

“I’ve got her Pete.” Natasha said as she picked you up effortlessly into a bridal carry.  “Go catch up with your group Wanda and I will look after her. Don’t worry.” 

“Alright. Text me updates.” He said and Natasha nodded dutifully before carrying you to the elevator.

When she arrived back on your floor that you shared with the two redheads, you shifted in her arms, letting out a small whimper. 

Natasha walked over to the door to her room, opening it to see Wanda already having everything set up for a movie day. 

“Oh my god is she ok? I know Peter said it was bad but … is she out?” Wanda said coming over and fussing. 

“She passed out as I got there. She must be feeling terrible.” Nat said as she set you down on the bed gently. Wanda came and sat next to you as Nat changed into some comfy clothes and took to your other side. 

Wanda’s hands carding through your hair was the first thing you registered when you came to.

“Nat, I think she’s coming around.” Wanda said softly. 

You let out a small, wounded noise as you tucked your knees to your chest in an attempt to stave off the relentless cramps. 

“Shhh y/n/n it’s ok. Natty and I have you baby. You’re alright.” Wanda said softly.

You whimpered again and shifted to clutch your midsection.

“Cramps?” Wanda asked knowingly still playing with your hair.

“Mmm.” You said softly. 

Before you knew it a hot pack was being slid onto your stomach and your muscles went lax as Wanda pulled you into her lap.

You opened an eye and saw her smiling down at you. 

“Hello sweet girl. How are you feeling.” She said gently.

“Bad.” You hummed.

“Chocolate?” Natasha said as she offered you an already unwrapped chocolate bar. Not bothering to use your hands you began eating it while Nat still held it. Making her smile softly in amusement as she fed you the chocolate. 

“Oh my god, I left Peter!” You said scrambling to sit up but Wanda kept you pinned. 

“It’s alright baby. Fridays watching him and you’re in no condition to be doing anything other than cuddling and watching movies with us. Ok?” Wanda said. She could see the gears turning behind your eyes and gently turned your chin to look at her. 

“Okay sweet girl?” She said again. 

“Okay.” You said softly. 

“Excellent. Now you pick the first movie.” Wanda said as Natasha returned with popcorn despite you not having seen her leave. 

As the day went on you began to feel better. Between the salty popcorn Wanda was feeding you and the blue electrolyte drinks that were stocked in Natasha’s mini fridge you began to feel less terrible. 

The girls had everything you needed, from a warm heat pack to chocolate to cuddles. You eventually drifted off feeling warm and only slightly in pain. Knowing you were safe with them. 

@barbarasstar @charlie56 @vlynes @lovelyy-moonlight

[hard-core-super-star]

caught myself [K.Bishop]

pairing: kate bishop x reader

summary: kate's competitiveness gets in the way of her seeing you for who you truly are.

warnings: technically none?; idiots in love; kate technically does knock R on their ass but no one gets hurt; yelena being an awful wingman; kate's sad puppy dog eyes; me feeling rusty af after writing so many serious essays

wordcount: 1.6k

a/n: me writing something else instead of focusing on the large pile of requests i still haven't gotten to? yeah, it's more likely than you think. i'll try to get into a somewhat normal posting schedule at some point if uni ever stops kicking my butt BUT FOR NOW, enjoy what was supposed to be a valentine's day special. also, don't worry, kissing in the crossfire part two WILL be happening!

* * * * * * *

You’re not sure what’s worse, being the newest member of the Young Avengers or being the member with the most obvious crush possible. It’s like the universe didn’t think you had enough difficulties getting used to life with your new team, it also thought you needed to juggle having the biggest crush on one of your teammates simultaneously.

Because fighting criminals daily isn’t hard enough, right?

You had tried your hardest to keep your massive crush on a certain purple-loving archer a secret but your plan had gone out the window the second Yelena figured out the hidden feelings behind your lingering stares. To say she didn’t understand your fascination with Kate Bishop would be an understatement but at least she tried to help…in her own, weirdly aggressive, way.

Her help mainly included making ridiculous comments at your expense. Comments that went completely over Kate’s head every single time and only led to awkward silences and unanswerable questions.

You thought the Russian was on her way to giving up and letting you handle your love life problems on your own but of course, when has Yelena given up an opportunity to embarrass someone she cares about?

It’s exactly Yelena’s love of embarrassing you that’s forced you into a situation you wouldn’t be able to get out of if you tried: sparring with the purple archer herself.

Training in the same room as Kate is already bad enough, especially considering her habit of wearing gray sweatpants and a tight purple cropped shirt, but having to spar with her? While she looks that good? And she has that stupid smirk on her face because she knows she’s going to win?

Nothing you could do could stop you from looking like a goddamn fool.

And that’s exactly what you look like right now.

It’s not bad enough that you can’t concentrate enough to anticipate her punches, you also don’t even know where to look because all of her is so damn attractive. It’s impressive and annoying all at the same time and it’s unfortunately taking up too much of your brain space right now.

You’re acutely aware of Yelena’s disapproving looks but you’re even more aware of the constant glares Kate throws in between rapid punches. Your brain may not be working well enough for you to spar correctly but if there’s one thing you can do, it’s dodge…which only infuriates the archer.

“Will you quit moving?” She huffs, only barely stopping her lips from forming a frustrated pout.

“What else am I supposed to do? Let you punch me?” You reply.

“That’d be a good start, yeah.”

“Ladies, quit chattering!”

You know Yelena is being annoying on purpose to get on your nerves but that doesn’t stop you from turning to glare at her. Your mouth barely begins to form around the complaints you want to hurl at her when Kate takes her opportunity.

It’s technically cheating, and it’s incredibly advantageous, but she’s not thinking about any of that. All she wants is to win and she doesn’t think twice. She swipes her leg under both of yours, catching you by surprise and instantly sending you crashing down onto the hard ground.

You don’t get a second to react before the back of your head makes contact with the floor. Large black spots fill your vision as Yelena starts throwing out curses at the startled archer. You barely make out the outline of Kate’s worried face before your eyes slip shut and darkness overcomes you.

You don’t know how much time goes by, or how many times Kate gets scolded in increasingly more aggressive Russian, all you know is that when you wake up…you’re not alone.

Your first instinct when your eyes open again is to sit up but a gentle hand pushes you back down before you get too far. “Don’t try to move, you’re gonna get a killer headache. Trust me.”

“Oh, I’m supposed to trust you after you knocked me on my ass?” You huff. It makes you sound more like a kid throwing a tantrum than an angry Avenger but you don’t really care.

“We were sparring, what else was I supposed to do?”

You don't notice the small grin that accompanies her recycled words, too upset and embarrassed about getting your ass handed to you by someone who's too lost in her own world to notice how much you like her.

“What else was I supposed to do?” You mock her. “Did you try not being a jerk?”

“That’s not fair. You’re the one who ignores me all the time but I’m the jerk here?”

Her words don’t catch you as off guard as the look on her face. You’re expecting to see flashes of the arrogant archer most of your teammates claim exists behind the usual warmth Kate so easily radiates. Instead of anger or arrogance, though, you come face to face with the most overdramatic pout you’ve ever seen.

And you suddenly understand why people say there’s a fine line between love and hate. Because it would be easy to think Kate Bishop is the most annoying person in the world if you didn’t also think she’s the most adorable person you’ve ever met…despite the constant ease with which she turns everything into an argument.

“What are you even talking about?”

“You don’t like me! And you don’t even try to hide it!”

All you can do is stare at her and wonder how the world’s greatest archer also happens to be the world’s most oblivious person. “You’re an idiot, Katherine.”

Her eyebrows crinkle in disgust but you’re pretty sure it has more to do with your use of her legal first name than the insult you push her way. “You sound like my mom.”

“You’re not helping your case.”

She opens her mouth to reply in an instant, a half-formed stupid sentence already forming on the tip of her tongue. You’re expecting yet another unnecessary argument to break out. Yet another reason for you to give up on all your attempts to build a bridge of thoughtful actions and sweet words that will lead you to who Kate truly is under the mask she so effortlessly wears around everyone else.

You’ve learned to expect anything from Kate Bishop. Especially the unexpected.

“I know. I’m sorry.” She adds the tiniest smile and most awkward shrug you’ve ever seen to her soft-spoken apology.

“What did you just say?” You ask, wondering if you hit your head hard enough to be imagining this whole interaction.

“You heard me,” she replies but her tone carries more traces of embarrassment than the cockiness you’re used to. “You’re right, I’m an idiot.”

You’re left dumbstruck, waiting for the other shoe to drop. There’s no way the archer can say those words without some sort of snarky comment coming after it. So you wait. Watching her with curious eyes that only fuel the nervousness bubbling underneath her carefree posture.

It’s strange to realize how little you genuinely know about her. Having a crush on her has ironically been the easiest part of everything. Sure, it’s awkward and annoying and ridiculous but believing you understand her is easier than accepting the fact that Kate’s never let you in.

So why would she start now?

“Are you going to say something?” The subtle crack in her voice reveals the truth she’s trying to hide behind her usual smirk.

There are so many things you want to say but you’re still a little lightheaded and the sudden change in her attitude toward you isn’t helping you keep yourself in check. “I like your smile.”

“Oh.”

You could easily dismiss her reaction as indifferent if it weren’t for the pink hue emerging across her cheeks. It’s subtle and warm and…real. Like her. And it suddenly dawns on you that you’ve never seen Kate Bishop flustered before.

Especially not from one of your compliments. It’s different…and you really like it.

“Can I ask you something, Kate?”

She looks away from you for a second, almost as if she’s scared of what you might say. Of the possibilities that lie in your unspoken feelings. “Sure, yeah, go ahead.”

Your mouth begins to form one of the many questions you’ve wanted to ask the archer since you met her but then her eyes find yours again and you get a glimpse into the fear-filled storm inside their depths.

It’s subtle but the armor made from cocky grins and imperfectly timed jokes begins to crack.

Which means there’s no way you’re going to spring such a loaded question on her just yet. As much as you’d love an answer to the one thing that’s been haunting you since you realized your true feelings for her, there’s no way you’d force her when it’s clear it’s been far too long since she’s let herself be vulnerable around someone.

So, you settle for the only thing you need right now: her.

“Can you stay with me?” You do your best to ignore the warmth that spreads along your face as the words slip out of your mouth. “Yelena doesn’t have the best bedside manner.”

A beat of silence goes by before her lips form a genuine smile. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Her eyes nervously flick around the room in search of somewhere to sit. You watch her for a few seconds before putting her out of her anxious misery.

“Kate…” You trail off, doing your best to hold in your laughter as you pat the empty space beside you. “You can sit here, I won’t bite.”

Your words are all it takes for her nervousness to turn back into her usual goofiness. “Really? That’s not what I’ve heard…”

“So you do talk shit about me!”

[issdisgrace]

Hi hello, would you mind writing sa male resder x Oscar piastri fluff? Like just something really tame, like cuddling in bed, or comforting him after a bad race, or taking care of him when sick, or maybe some angst? He gets jealous cause some guy is flirting with reader, but fluff would be really nice, hope this isn't too long 😭😭 thx

MY SICK BABY

WARNINGS: None

A/N: Sorry this took so long, have been neglecting my writing and basically all other aspects in my life. But I hope you like this none the less.

Oscar didn't get sick often. In fact, the last time he was sick was almost a year. But when he did get sick he wasn't just sick, he was sick.

So when Oscar started feeling ill Friday night, dread sunk its way into his stomach. He knew that this weekend would be hell for him and god was he right.

He woke up Saturday morning with a pounding headache and a stuffy nose. He took some meds to help with it before he went out to the track, which helped some. However, he still felt quite miserable and others could see it, but despite this he had managed to qualify pretty good. Anyway, it was later that night everything just got worse, and the coughing started. He felt like he was suffocating, his chest hurt, he couldn't sleep, so he ended up calling you.

You were really concerned when you got a call from Oscar at 1 in the morning. But as soon as he started talking it was clear why he was calling you. He was sick. You felt bad as you listened to him explain everything. You suggested a couple of things that would hopefully help, which he appreciated, and you ended up staying on the phone till he fell asleep.

Then Sunday came, and despite your suggestions and some meds he still felt and now looked like hell. But he pushed himself, ignoring everything his body and others were telling him. He was going to race today even if it killed him. When he got out on the track, he felt surprisingly good and raced his ass off getting p3. Then he came in and his adrenaline came down and he felt worse than he did before. He had just made it through podium before he yacked up the contents of his stomach. He was grateful that the team didn't force him to do media after and just sent back to his hotel.

He managed to get some rest, which did him some good but before he knew it he 8pm and he needed to head to the airport for his flight home. Oscar was happy to be going home, and that flight was only 2 hours, but god those 2 hours were the absolute worse in his life. The turbulence was god awful, everyone and everything was just to loud, he had a hard time keeping whatever was left in his stomach down, and his nose just kept running.

By the time the plane landed around 11pm, he was ready to just cuddle up in bed with you and sleep for the next 24 hours. Picking Oscar up from the airport, you asked questions about how he was feeling wanting to gauge what you needed to do to help him feel better. Oscar told you and you made a mental note of everything as you headed home.

Once you guys were home, you got Oscar into pajamas and then got him some cold medicine and some soup that you had made earlier. He happily had to the soup as it was his favorite chicken noodle. But he reluctantly took the cold medicine because it tasted god awful. But he took it like the good boy he is.

You then got him all tucked into bed with the tv playing some old detective show that Oscar liked to watch. Kissed him goodnight and told him if he needed you, you would be asleep in the guest bedroom. Oscar wished you stayed with him, but he knew you didn't want to get sick as well.

Anyway, it was around 6 am when Oscar woke up. He felt hot and ill and quickly got out of bed to throw up the contents of his stomach into the toilet. Having woken up early and hearing the shuffling, then the throwing up, you quickly rushed to Oscar. Siting on the floor beside him, rubbing his back trying to soothe him.

You sit with him rubbing his back until he done throwing up. After he’s done you carefully get him back into bed. Then go and get the thermometer to take his temperature. You take his temperature and it reads 101 degrees Fahrenheit. It’s not good but it’s not as bad as it could be.

You get him some more cold medicine and water. You make sure he drinks all the water and then get a cool damp wash cloth on his forehead. You turn then turn the tv which shut off probably sometime in night. You put on some cartoons. They’re easy and you don’t got to think or follow much. Perfect for someone that is sick.

You then get everything set up for Oscar so he can take care of himself while your gone at work for the day. You’re a little reluctant to leave Oscar but you knew you had to work. You told Oscar to keep you updated in how he was doing.

When you got home from work, you immediately went and checked Oscar and found him asleep, cartoons still playing on the tv. You smile to yourself as you leave and go make dinner. When you’re almost done with dinner you hear the soft footsteps of Oscar coming down the hallway, you look up and greet him. He definitely looks better than he did this morning. You ask him how he’s feeling and he was better like you expected.

This routine of getting him set up in the morning and going to work and coming home and checking on him and then making dinner goes on for a 9 days, until Oscar feels completely better.

Oscar is really appreciative of you taking care of him while he was sick and took you out to dinner at a nice place as a thank you. Despite your insistence that he didn’t need to, that you were his partner and that taking care of him when he was sick came with that. While you were out for dinner you started sneezing a lot.

And by the next morning you were sick and it was Oscar’s turn to take care of you while you were sick.

[exhaslo]

Ahhhhh omg ty for writing my request of Pornstar!Miguel x Pornstar!Reader it was so cute and sooooo great <33 I loved it very much !!

IDK if you wanted to write a part 2 for it, but since you ended it off like you did, I was wondering what would happen when they meet outside. I kind of want to see a Jealous!Reader who gets jealous seeing Miguel work with someone else for a shoot cuz it looks like he’s having a great time with his co-star. But Reader takes him back to her place and gives him the night of his life? I appreciate a Dom!Miguel, but I was wondering if the roles can be reversed this time with a Dom!Reader? Not necessarily a Sub!Miguel but like more body worship and Reader trying to prove that she’s the only one for him. Get him pussy drunk >< Thank you again, and I hope the holidays don’t get too hectic for you ;-;

Ty & you're welcome!! I'm glad you liked the first request!!! I hope you enjoy this one too!

PT 1

Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, riding, overstimulation, creampie

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

It had been a few weeks since you and Miguel started working together. The chemistry the two of you shared was nothing you ever felt before. Honestly, you might even call this love. You weren't quite sure, especially since the type of work you did made you question the concept.

But sure enough, Miguel gave you reason to believe. Every time the two of you shared a screen, you had to compose yourself and remember that everyone thought you were acting. Hell, they were fully convinced that you were a star.

You were good, that much was true. The only time you could let yourself go and be free was when you and Miguel met at either his place or yours. Miguel was absolutely destroy you, making you question if sex work was the kind of job you were good at.

Sex was different with him. Everything was different with him. Part of you wanted to tell Miguel that you wanted to quit working as a Pornstar and just be a normal couple with him, but you were scared. Part of you wondered if Miguel even liked you back. If he even shared the same feelings that you did.

"(Y/N)!" Miguel called out, waving towards you. You hurried to his side, nuzzling your head into his chest to hide from the cold,

"Gosh! I didn't expect it to be this windy today."

"Yep," Miguel wrapped his arm around you, keeping you sheltered from the wind, "Before we get to our movie, I want to tell you something. I got a gig with another person. My manager told me to take it, b-"

"I understand, it's the job." You forced a smile, resting your head against him, "As long as we still have these moments to ourselves, I don't...mind"

---------

Oh you gave so much shits.

Literally the next day, you went to work and couldn't help but poke your head into Miguel's studio. There were butterflies in your stomach. This was a bad idea, but you were curious. You wanted to know who dared tried to steal your man er, partner, no, coworker. Yes, coworker!

You felt your heart sink as you watched Miguel smile towards your competition. Of course, it had to be your rival. The two started to shoot and it just kept getting worse for you. Miguel looked like he was enjoying himself with her.

Unable to watch as your rival started her horrible moans, you hurried home. You claimed that you were sick.

---------

Miguel stepped out of the shower after his shoot, sighing softly. He glanced at his phone, seeing a message from your manager. Miguel furrowed his brows as he read that you went home. Sick? You always gloated that you never got sick.

"Wow, Miguel, that was amazing. You know, I think we make a pretty good team. Why don't we-"

"No," Miguel said as he quickly finished to get dressed,

"Awe, don't be so mean~ How about I take you out on a date?"

"No. Got me a girlfriend," Miguel said firmly, packing his bag. Your rival just huffed,

"And she's okay with your job? She's okay with you fucking another beautiful woman?"

That was it. Miguel felt a light bulb appear above his head as he hurried out of the shower room. Leaving for the day, Miguel stepped out of the building and saw you in your car. He approached, wondering what you were doing.

"Get in," You huffed, rolling down the window.

"(Y/N), are you okay?" Miguel asked, sitting down. You started to drive to your place,

"Yes." You lied.

Miguel smiled softly towards you, enjoying your cute jealously. He went to reach for your hair, playing with it as you drove.

--------

You were mad. Once you entered your apartment, you pushed Miguel onto the wall and started kissing him. You didn't want Miguel to enjoy working with other women. You want him to want you only. Who cares about what your managers wanted!

Pushing Miguel onto your couch, you sat on his lap and started to furiously grind against him. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you deepen the kiss. Miguel just held your waist, moving his hips along yours.

Gosh, if you weren't taking charge of this, you'd let him fuck you dumb right now. Feeling the friction starting to hurt, you quickly took off your skirt and panties. Miguel helped with your shirt, before you returned to his throbbing dick.

Taking off his pants and boxers, you grabbed his dick and started to stroke it. You were going to have Miguel burn this night into his memory. Have him remember that you are the only one for him. Hopefully he thought that.

Sucking against his tip, you moaned lowly as you played with yourself. Miguel's dick was far too big for you to take in your mouth. You tried several times. You whimpered, trying to take more of him in as you stroked his dick faster.

"(Y/N), don't....force yourself," Miguel groaned lowly, gripping onto your hair.

You muffled in protest, causing Miguel to moan. With one more lick, you watched Miguel twitch, ready to burst. Precum already dripping from his dick. You resisted a chuckle, unable to hold out much longer either.

It was funny how good the two of you were when working, but when it came to being at home? Oh, you both let yourselves loose and gave into the lust.

"I hope you're ready for a long night," You told him.

You whimpered, moaning lowly as you slowly sat on his cock. No matter how many times you fucked, his dick would always stretch you out and fill you. You almost cam on the spot. Resisting a moan, you started to bounce against his dick.

The sheer size of him was going to make you tap out for the night. Your pussy kept sucking him in while his dick twitched inside of you. The sounds of his moans were turning you on more. Resting your head against his shoulder, you whimpered a moan as you cam hard.

Miguel was not long to follow. His tight grip against your waist made you weak in the knees. You kept bouncing on his dick, becoming a slightly moaning mess as he filled you. This wasn't enough. You weren't going to let him go so easily.

"Let me take over, (Y/n)." Miguel whispered, kissing your neck. You gently pushed him back onto the couch,

"N-No! I'm taking control tonight and...I'm not going to let you rest until you learn your lesson." You huffed. Miguel just chuckled, cupping you breasts,

"Very well. I'll just ruin your pussy by sitting still."

You moaned lowly as you began to shake. Your vision was blurring as you felt your burning knot about to burst again. Your gummy walls squeezing the life out of his dick, making your mind hazy. With another bounce, you cried out as his dick rubbed against you g-spot, causing you to orgasm.

"Such a beautiful sight," Miguel hummed. You were breathing heavily, unsure how much longer you could keep going,

"Not...yet."

Eventually, you gave Miguel permission to move you to the bed. He laid down, moaning and groaning to your uncontrollable lust. You were milking him dry. Bouncing against his dick as if him cumming inside you four times wasn't enough.

Miguel was breathing heavily now as he watched you cry out from overstimulation. You were struggling to fuck him, probably because your legs gave out. Sitting up, Miguel swapped positions, pressing you against the bed,

"(Y/N), you're so fucking beautiful. Of course I know that his pussy is mine and mine alone. Think I don't get jealous thinking about all the men who had a taste of you?" Miguel groaned into your ear, snapping his hips into yours.

"A-Ah~ M-Miggy~" You whined, feeling weak. Miguel grunted and moaned as he fucked you roughly,

"You're mine. Only I get to enjoy this pussy like this. Only I can have you like this."

"I...I'm going to quit..." You admitted, squirming as you felt another orgasm coming, "I-I only want you!"

"Then I suppose I'll have to quit too,"

Miguel pulled you into a kiss, shaking as the two of you cummed together. Miguel groaned as he pulled out, watching his cum spill out of your abused cunt. He pulled you beside him, nuzzling his head into your neck,

"You did well...I'm exhausted." He muttered. You rolled on top of him, smirking as you slid his dick into you again,

"I said I...was t-taking over for the night. I'm n-not stopping until you get drunk off me."

Miguel just chuckled weakly in response, already pussy drunk. He held your hips, watching you cry out in pleasure. Perhaps you were just trying to get pregnant, but whatever the reason, Miguel gave you want you wanted.

-------

You both had a goddamn good reason to call out the next day.

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

Hope you enjoyed~

[somber-sapphic]

Snow Daze

〖Summary: Shoveling snow while sick is a nightmare combination.〗

〖Word Count: 2.1k〗

〖Pairing: Wanda x Sick Reader〗

〖Notes: Sorry it took so long to get this done, I got sick and couldn't write for the life of me. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this and feel free to send me an ask if you'd like to read anything!〗

☾Masterlists☽

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Waking up to fresh snowfall brought different reactions for everyone. Some felt joy upon seeing their ordinary world coated in white, they loved the whimsy that came with the weather. To others it was more frustrating. It was a chore that had to be dealt with as early as possible to make room for the day. You fell into the latter category.

When you woke up on what was supposed to be a lazy Sunday morning you were less than thrilled to see a blanket of snow covering the yard, driveway and cars. It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy the snow, you loved watching it fall in large fluffy flakes and every so often you would have a snowball fight with the avengers. Really you loved the snow, but you hated the cleanup. You hated it more with a stuffy nose and a dull ache in your body that clearly indicated that you were getting sick.

There was this little competition among the heroes about who could shovel the most snow, it was their way of turning a chore into a fun workout. You didn’t find it nearly as fun as them. You would rather just get the damn job over with without all of the smack talk and teasing, but they insisted on it.

Wanda had gotten so tired of their antics that she’d dubbed herself ‘maker of the hot coca’ to get out of it. Natasha loved it, she felt great when she could beat the superhumans at anything and generally just enjoyed competition. You participated only because you were a relatively new member of the team (compared to the others) and didn’t want to make yourself look weak.  

Staring out at the vast expanse that was the Avengers Compound driveway you couldn’t help but feel a bit of self-pity. You had just woken up and you were already feeling awful. Your nose was so stuffy that you couldn’t breathe through it, but it was also running. Your throat burned every time you swallowed, and you were sure that the cough that would be coming would make it hurt even worse.

It wasn’t like you had much of a choice though, you could hear Steve beginning to yell at everyone to get up and dressed for 20-degree weather. With a harsh sneeze you began to get ready, pulling on the warmest clothes you could find which included doubles of everything. Even with the two layers you were shivering hard, unable to get warm.

You stared at yourself in the small mirror, studying the dark smudges under your eyes and the sickly pallor of your face. Your nostrils were already rimmed red from rubbing them and your lips were badly chapped. Whatever this was it was hitting fast and hard.

A loud knock startled you out of your daze and back into reality. You shuffled to your door, hindered by the extra layers and your own dizziness. Opening it revealed an excited looking Steve with a big smile on his face and wearing winter clothes.

“You ready Y/n? It looks heavy!” He greeted, grinning at you. His joyful tone was baffling, but you were determined to prove yourself as an individual with no powers and far less experience than the others.

“Lets do this.” You croaked, confirming that you sounded as bad as you felt. Steve’s eyebrow twitched and his expression morphed into one of concern, but you brushed it off with a quiet cough and a smile.

“Sorry, my throat is a little dry. I think I need to talk to FRIDAY about increasing the humidity in here.” You said, offering an easy explanation for what could easily be a fluke. The cough had done wonders to clear your throat and you didn’t sound quite as awful. A bit nasally, but not like death.

Cap nodded enthusiastically, too focused on the idea of what he was sure would be an intense workout to really notice the state you were in. If you said you were fine, he was in no place to question you.

“Lets do this!”

You grabbed your coat and followed the superhero out of your bedroom where you practically ran into a very tired looking Wanda. The witch wasn’t sure why it was so important for her to be awake as she was only making cocoa for everyone, but the boys had refused to give her peace.

When she saw you, her eyes went wide, and you couldn’t help the blush that spread across your cheeks. The way she looked at you with worry and love, it was just something you’d never seen before meeting her.

When you first joined the team, she had been incredibly kind to you, she’d understood your fear and done everything to make you feel welcome. It hadn’t taken long for you to fall head over heels for her. Thankfully she could read your mind otherwise you never would’ve gotten the courage to ask her out.

“Y/n, are you okay? You look…not great.” She said softly, not wanting to attract the attention of anyone else. You smiled again and nodded slightly, wondering if she could tell that you were lying. You had always been good at it, but you knew that she could sense emotions without trying if they were strong enough.

“I’m fine. I just woke up, that’s it. Will you put marshmallows in my hot cocoa?” You asked, leaning in to peck her on the cheek. The brunette hummed quiet concern, but nodded after a moment and squeezed your hand.

“Of course, baby. Come inside if you need a break, okay? No need to put yourself at risk for a chore, it will get done.” She kissed you, her soft red lips brushing gently against yours. You did the best you could to return the kiss, but it was everything you could do not to fall apart. The last place you wanted to be was outside in the freezing cold, you wanted to be with Wanda who was comfortable and warm. Later you’d find yourself wishing that you gave into that want.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A chesty cough bubbled from your lips as you threw another shovel full of heavy wet snow over your shoulder, but this time you did nothing to suppress it. You no longer cared if someone heard you, you were tired and cold. It had been two hours of moving piles of incredibly heavy snow and you were barely halfway done.

Natasha glanced over at you but said nothing. She’d been watching you deteriorate for a while now but didn’t want to force you inside when you were being so stubborn. She had internally decided that if you didn’t go in soon, she would get Wanda to come get you.

 The boys were getting even more competitive as they got bored, and Clint had started throwing snowballs. You were thankful that you were on the other side of the driveway away from that nonsense.

One thing your slightly feverish brain hadn’t considered was that the others might retaliate. What had started as one man throwing a few snowballs had turned into a full-blown snowball fight in less than a minute. You tried to avoid your teams’ antics and just continue with the snow removal, but it was too late for that.

Before you could think to react one very well packed snowball slammed you in the face and another hit the back of your head. You froze as icy slush slid down your back and chest, bypassing your jacket to soak into your soft cotton undershirt. You stared at Steve who had thrown the one that hit your face with an expression of shock and anger that was barely masking tears.

You threw the shovel down and whipped around, a wave of spots dancing in your vision as you began to march back toward the front doors. You glared daggers at Clint who had thrown the other snowball and flipped them both off as you trudged your way through the snow, hot tears beginning to drip down your freezing cheeks.

When you got inside you didn’t even bother taking off your boots, you just stomped through the foyer and to the elevator, pushing the button you knew would get you to the kitchen and your girlfriend.

“Mx. Y/l/n, your vitals indicate—”

“Shut up FRIDAY.” You snapped, coughing aggressively into your elbow as you waited the few seconds for the elevator to get to your floor. You didn’t care what the AI had to say, you knew that you were sick, and you were so angry that all you really wanted to do was scream.

When you finally made it to the kitchen the snow had begun to melt. You stood in front of Wanda dripping and shivering, doing everything you could to keep yourself from sobbing.

“Oh love, you’re freezing.” The brunette breathed, shaking her head as she rushed to comfort you. She began to take off your coat and you just let her. The tears coming faster as her aura of compassion washed over you, reassuring you that you weren’t alone.

The young Sokovian woman set your coat on a chair and pulled you in for a hug, giving you silent permission to break down. You did just that and buried your head in her shoulder as you began to sob out your frustration at the world. Wanda held you like that, crying coughing and sneezing for probably five minutes before she pulled away, seeming not to care that you’d ruined her shirt.

“Come on Y/n/n, let’s get you in bed.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

When she said that you expected to be brought to your bedroom, but instead you found her leading you to hers. Once there she helped you change into her softest pajamas and tucked you into her bed without a second thought.

The whole thing happened so fast that your fever clouded brain barely had time to catch up when Wanda left you alone only to return a moment later with a mug of tea.

“Here you go sweetheart. Drink this for me, it’ll warm you up.” Wanda said gently, pushing a mug into your hands. She had never made you any cocoa, she knew that you were getting sick and decided that tea would be best.

“Thanks.” You rasped, not sure what else to say. You’d never really been taken care of before and being sick around your girlfriend was strange. The relationship was still on the newer side, so you were worried about doing something wrong and messing it up.

The witch kissed your forehead and took her seat beside you on the soft bed. She wrapped a blanket around your trembling shoulders and made quiet noises of concern as she fussed, something you found yourself enjoying. It was nice to feel cared for and she did it better than anyone else.

“How about we watch a show while you warm up?” She suggested reaching for the remote on her bedside table. You nodded silently and wiped your nose on your sleeve, your throat hurt, and you weren’t really up to talking anymore. Wanda tilted her head at your action and placed a box of tissues in your lap with a little smile.

“Use these instead.” She directed, turning her attention to the TV. You obliged and grabbed a tissue to blow your nose which was definitely better than just wiping it.

Wanda flipped through channels and began to play with your hair as she did so, dragging her nails in patterns across your skull. The effect was amazing, you instantly felt calmer and settled against her even more, practically melting into her side.

You focused your eyes on whatever show she had put on; it was brightly colored and animated. It didn’t really matter to you what she decided to watch, you were too sick to pay attention to it.

You took a sip of the hot tea, relishing the way it soothed your throat and warmed your insides. The snow had been hell, but you were finally able to relax thanks to your amazing girlfriend. You vowed silently to repay the favor the next time she got sick and go above and beyond to take care of her the same way she was doing for you.

[mixtape-racha]

YAYYYYYY 100 followersssss :) im so happy for youuuuu :)))))

okay, here is my request... hehe, im suchhh a sucker for hurt comfort and I loveeee fem 9th member au's. but like not smut or like fwb, just like a really juicy story y'know? I haven't been able to find any of those two categories combined tho, especially into like a longer fic, like it's always in the hundreds (I would love it if it was a little longer, no pressure tho :). literally, anything works, from some kinda mess up on stage to maybe you messing up a relationship w a member??? idk. I'm letting ur thoughts run wild here... THANK YOU AND CONGRATSSSS

(im sorry im really vague in requests lol)

YAYYYY THO IM LIKE REALLYYYY PROUD OF YOU<<<3333 LOV U BB KEEP DOING WHAT YOU DOOOO

thank you so much my lovely bae!! ilysm and i hope i did this request justice!! i kind of went off on a tangent and got carried away with the plot waaa &lt;3

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

sorry seems to be the hardest word

pairing: ot8 x fem!9th member!reader

warnings: angst, hurt comfort, reader snapping at the members, reader being physically unwell, fluff at the end

words: 2.29k

everything was going wrong today, and you truly meant every. fucking. thing.

somehow, you had managed to turn your alarm off the night before (probably because you fell asleep while on your phone, accidentally calling your mom in you sleep in the process), and none of the guys took the initiative to wake you up when they got up.

okay, sure, you couldn’t blame them entirely. you were a grown woman, and you could look after yourself. but weren’t you supposed to be a team? eight other people surrounding you, and none of them thought to check on you? especially when you were usually up and alert before they were? no, instead they were all out the door without even knocking to see if you were feeling okay. so much for being your brothers and best friends.

so god forbid, you were late this morning. you managed to turn up at the company for your vocal lessons only ten minute late, but it felt awful as you’d never been late before. you were so incredibly lucky to get the opportunity to debut with skz, especially joining the group later in their career and being the only girl. you wanted to do everything perfectly to show that you deserved to be where you were, and with the way today was shaping out you were so disappointed with yourself.

but then - it got worse. you, in your rush to leave the dorms, had forgotten your sheet music, leaving your vocal teacher to be short and snappy with you. yeah, you brought it up on your phone instead, but she was strict, and a firm believer in “good old-fashioned pen and paper over your silly little radio devices nowadays”. her attitude towards you for the remainder of your lesson affected you more than you liked to admit - excusing yourself to the bathroom to have a little cry before you headed to the studio.

for some reason, none of your schedules were properly coordinated today, leaving jisung to be the one in the studio with you - rather than chan, like usual -  while you recorded your lines for the demos to be sent to the company later in the month, when you’d decide the songs for the new album you had upcoming later in the year.

jisung was always the nicest to you, especially when he could tell you were having a rough day - you were both very alike in that sense, very attentive towards each other as if you could tell what the other was feeling. 

however, it seemed today that something had crawled up his ass and died. he was almost as snappy as your vocal teacher, and you were quite frankly sick of it. you kept messing up your lines; whether from the stress or the ache building in your throat (god you hoped you weren’t getting sick), you weren’t sure. but clearly, jisung wouldn’t stand for it.

“honestly, (y/n), you might as well just call it a day and come back to this with chan-hyung another day. i need to get on with other stuff.” he sighed, dismissively, as you bit back the tears fighting to escape your eyes. he wouldn’t even look at you, and your stomach was doing somersaults. was he really that mad? surely he could see how hard you were trying.

but instead of confronting him, you just grabbed your belongings and left after silently agreeing. no one answered your message on the group chat when you asked if anyone was down to get lunch together, even though you could see basically everyone had read it, so you retreated to the canteen alone before you had to go to practice with the boys.

as the ache in your throat spread to your joints, fatigue plaguing you, you trudged up to the practice room for rehearsals with the boys. you were learning a new dance - in fact, the already chosen title track for the new album, and deep down you were dreading it. it was more difficult than you had imagined, and definitely aimed more towards moves the boys could do compared to you. you loved the boys, but sometimes you felt like they forgot that men and women’s bodies worked differently.

surprisingly, you weren’t the last to arrive, squashing your fear of another thing going wrong.

but just as soon as practice began, your fear was reawakened. the ache in your joints was making the dance more difficult for you to execute, and you could feel the annoyance radiating off of minho’s body even if he wouldn’t admit it. you stumbled a few times, almost knocking into felix, who looked at you more frustrated than concerned.

“seriously, (n/n), what’s going on? it’s really not that hard. get your head in the game.”

you huffed, shaking out your limbs and telling minho to start the track again. maybe if you ignored your surroundings, ignored how you were feeling, then things would be easier. you could block out minho’s harsh criticisms - he was probably just tired. you could block out everything, knowing the boys were suffering just as much as you lately. but when the music stopped again, and everyone was talking at you, voice after voice lapping over each other you just couldn’t take it anymore.

“shut the fuck up! shut up, shut up, shut up! give me a fucking break, i’m trying my hardest!”

you honestly didn’t mean to snap, you were just so overwhelmed and couldn’t take anymore. when chan tried to put a comforting hand on your shoulder, you flung it off, all your annoyance and stress from the day building up at once.

“don’t fucking touch me. i don’t need your pity, i don’t need you to tell me that i don’t know how to do my job well enough. this is the fucking worst day of my life and you all keep making it worse!”

every fiber of your being was telling you to stop, to be reasonable, but it was like your mouth was making its own decisions. you couldn’t tell which member it was, but you were interrupting the gentle call of your name before you could even control it.

“and no, before any of you try to be funny, i’m not on my period,” you sneered, anger bubbling under your skin as you saw jisung look away sheepishly. “i’m just sick of feeling like i have to fight to prove i’m good enough, like i’m not one of you guys yet. we’re supposed to be a team, but all day i’ve been pushed to the side and treated like i don’t matter. i’m sick of it!”

you breathed heavily, grabbing your duffle bag from the side of the room and storming towards the door.

“i’m staying with yeji tonight, leave me the fuck alone.”

was all you said before leaving the boys stood in shock, confused as to why you were acting like you hated them.

regrettably, the minute you found yourself in yeji’s dorm and explained your day to her, you knew you were in the wrong. how could you let yourself treat your best friends that way? they didn’t deserve that, and you would be most understanding if they never forgave you. it was only when the throb in your head and ache in your joints became too much that you finally allowed yourself to sleep.

chan’s apology

luckily, you and the boys were granted a week off a while ago, and today marked the first day of that week. however, knowing chris he was probably still hauled up in the studio from the night before. it was around 3am (yeji shouldn’t have let you crash so early, your sleep schedule was going to be manic), so you pulled yourself together before making the decision to go visit him.

he may not even want to see you after your little outburst, but you could still try.

you stopped by the convenience store on your way to the studio, grabbing some snacks and some drinks just to be on the safe side. carefully checking the group chat, you saw that changbin was still in the studio with chan and you hoped you could get there before he left - it might be easier to kill two birds with one stone. you were just glad you bought way too much food for just two people.

you smiled politely, bowing at the security guard as he let you into the building, heart thumping in your ears as you carefully traced the steps to chan’s studio.

when you finally approached the door, you had to take a minute to prepare yourself to knock. you heard chan’s voice mumbling behind the door once you did, nervously waiting until he came and opened it.

he looked surprised to see you, frozen for a moment before quickly ushering you in and sitting you on the couch next to changbin. almost in instinct, changbin’s arm was slung around your shoulder - something he always did when you were close by, relishing in the fact he wasn’t the shortest in the group anymore.

you sheepishly held out the bag containing all the goodies you got at the convenience store to chan, a small smile on your face when he took it.

“got you some snacks.. kind of guessed you might have forgotten to eat.” your voice was quiet, ashamed. you just hoped they wouldn’t hold your outburst against you.

but when chan grinned, you knew he could never be mad at you for long.

“we were worried about you, y’know? that’s why jisung let you go early today - something seemed off and we didn’t want you to get too overwhelmed.” changbin said from next to you, the hand on your shoulder rubbing it comfortingly. 

you couldn’t stop the tears from welling up behind your eyes again, but bit them back in fear they’d think you were looking for sympathy.

“i– i’m so sorry. i’ve just had an awful day, and i feel like shit, but that doesn’t excuse my actions, and i shouldn’t have snapped at you all - you couldn’t have known, and its not your fault.”

you explained why your day had been so bad to them (after some pushing from chan), and how you were feeling physically, causing changbin to look at you with great worry.

they indulged in a small cuddle session, feasting on the snacks you provided while they tried to help cheer you up. and honestly, it worked, just talking through how you were feeling, and gettin constructive feedback rather than just a shoulder to lean on was relieving.

you couldn’t apologize to them more, feeling so ashamed of your actions, but they were quick to reassure you it was okay - everyone had bad days, you were only human after all. you just needed to work on your communication a little bit.

when you finally got ready to head back to the dorm at 5am, you felt better than you had in a long time, actually.

apology numbers one and two: complete.

but when you arrived back at the dorm, head peacefully resting on changbin’s shoulder, what you weren’t expecting to walk into was what you all called a “cuddle pool” - the sofa bed pulled out, covered with pillows and blankets - and a spot waiting for you between felix and seungmin.

your eyes watered at the expectant faces of your soul-brothers, small sobs leaving your lips as your shoulders shook. god, the day had taken a toll on you - you couldn’t remember the last time you cried in front of the boys.

it was only then that minho - who you hadn’t seen standing by the door - scooped you into a hug.

“oh, angel,” he frowned, a hand pressed to your forehead. “you’re burning up. is that why you felt so bad earlier?”

words seemed to fail you, and all you could do was nod as your grip on his sweater tightened. it certainly wouldn’t be the first time you got sick from stress, but you hated being sick. you hated feeling out of control in your own body, and despised being doted on like you were unable. however, this time… you think you could let it slide. you just needed your boys close by right now.

they seemed to enjoy looking after you, and you felt you owed them that after the situation in the practice room.

minho was quick to place on you on the couch, felix and seungmin suffocating you in a bone-crushing hug. jisung handed you the tv remote, saying you could choose to watch whatever you wanted, and that everyone would be having a slumber party in the living room until you felt better.

minho and chan had gone to make you some chicken noodle soup - using felix’s mom’s recipe, which was known for being a lifesaver in your dorm. jeongin was quick to grab you your comfort plushie, taking his place on the floor by your feet - the two of you were 100% keen on physical affection, but having him close by helped.

within merely an hour, all nine of you were curled up, an animated disney movie playing, with soup and mugs of tea being passed around the room. it was nice, and it felt so good to have your boys so close and willing to help you.

you definitely took on changbin’s mention of needing to improve on communication, wanting nothing more than to improve yourself for the little family you had build around you. and yeah you were sick, and they would probably get sick too by being in such close proximity to you, but that was a problem for another day. you’d just return the favor of looking after them.

you just knew you were lucky to have them.

taglist: join taglist here @pretty-racha @chubbyanarkiss @taeriffic @mits-vi @chanssmiles @5kayzee @torixx80 @fawnpeaks @bangtanmix73 @savluvsmingi @boi-bi-ahaha

[thetarttfuldickhead]

Roy had, he realizes, half-expected this to happen. He must have suspected on some level that their trip up to Manchester to face off against City would see a repeat of last season’s illicit night-time outing, because when he catches sight of Jamie surreptitiously slinking away from the team movie night just as the film ends, he isn’t surprised.

Just rolls his eyes and huffs a fucking prick, before telling Nate that he’s going out and not to let any of those idiots cause any trouble.

He can feel Beard’s eyes following him as he follows Jamie, out of the impromptu movie hall and the hotel, and into the chilly evening.  

Roy lets Jamie amble on for a couple of streets. Let the little muppet think he got away with it; it’ll make his realisation to the contrary all the more satisfying. Then, as Jamie idles on the pavement while waiting for a lull in traffic, Roy sneaks up to him and grabs his shoulder.

”Oi! Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

Jamie startles, which is pleasing. He doesn’t look particularly concerned at catching sight of his fearsomely scowling coach, however, which is less pleasing.

“Fucking hell, Roy,” he says, having the gall to sound mildly reproachful. “How’s giving your best player a heart attack the night before you take on the champions a good idea, eh?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Roy drawls. “Is it a worse idea than letting one of my players sneak off and break curfew the night before we take on the champions?”

Jamie snorts, unimpressed at his coach’s careful omission of the best. Shrugging out of Roy’s grip, he starts walking again. “Weren’t going to get into any trouble or nothing,” he says airily. “Just wanted to see me mum.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Not exactly a leap. (And if there’s a part of Roy that had been concerned that Jamie might slink away to see someone else, well… No need to bring that up. There’s been enough heated discussions on that topic between them ever since Roy learned of Jamie actually going up to see his fucking piece of shit father in rehab.)

For a few moments, they walk in silence, through the chill October air and the increasingly distant rush of Manchester traffic.

“Are you… okay?” Roy asks eventually. It comes out hesitant and it takes all of his willpower not to smash his own stupid face in for how silly he sounds. He’s getting better at this, he thinks – the emotional shit – but he’s still not good at it.

Jamie cuts him a surprised look. “Uh, yeah? Awesome. Why?” Then his face softens into understanding, his soft lips curling into a silent oh. “I’m good, Coach,” he says earnestly, pushing a strand of his carefully styled hair out of his eyes. “Swear down. Just wanted to say hi to mummy, yeah?”

Roy nods. He’d thought as much, but… he’d needed to make sure. “You could have just asked.”

Jamie gives him a sidelong glance. “Yeah, well, but. You’re not Ted. Might have said no.”

Roy’s eyes snap to Jamie’s face, narrowing in incredulity. “And if I had I told you, specifically, that no, Jamie, you may not fucking run off to see your mum the night before a game, then you wouldn’t have tried to slip away?”

“Yeah, man, ‘course.” Off Roy’s sceptical look, Jamie makes a face. “Come on, Coach. I do everything you tell me to, don’t I? Even when it’s stupid,” he adds, not quite under his breath.

And Roy doesn’t know what to say to that because… Jamie is right, isn’t he. He does everything Roy tells him to, and while that’s… good, obviously, hearing it stated so baldly leaves Roy feeling. Well. Something. Not bad, exactly, but slightly like he’s on a roller-coaster and suddenly he’s weightless and breathless and with that sucking sensation in his gut. Or like when he held Phoebe for the first time, awed and terrified of all that frail softness in his rough hands.

He clears his throat, pushing that weird feeling right back down into the dark recesses of his mind where it belongs. “Sneaking out of the fucking hotel when I told everyone to stay in and hit bed before eleven is a weird fucking way of doing what I tell you.”

“Yeah, but that was like, general,” Jamie says, waving away Roy’s fully legitimate argument like an errant fly. “It’s different, yeah?”

“It really fucking isn’t,” Roy snaps, even as there’s small, strange part of him that feels that Jamie – inexplicably – has a point.

Jamie grins at him, then, “And yet you haven’t hauled me back yet,” he notes, exaggeratedly looking around them to indicated the more and more run-down surroundings, and sure enough, if memory serves Roy right they’re already halfway back to the council estate where Jamie grew up.

Fucking hell.

But he’d suspected this, too, hadn’t he. Known that he wasn’t really going after Jamie just to read him the riot act and bring him back in.

“Half an hour,” Roy growls. “Then I am hauling you back to the hotel, and if I hear one complaint about it, I’m making you run the whole fucking way and then we’re doing burpees until you drop and I don’t care if you’re too stiff to play tomorrow.”

Like hell you don’t, Jamie’s laughing eyes tell him, but all he says is, “Yes, Coach. Mint.”

Roy gives a curt nod. Mint. Yeah. Maybe that’s what this is.

At least it could be hell of a lot worse.

At least until Jamie asks, much, much too innocently, “So, Coach, are you coming with me ‘cause you wanna keep an eye on me or because you wanna see me mum too?”

Roy is grateful that there’s no telling if his cheeks redden in the autumn dark, and that his voice is as gruff as ever when he growls, “All right, you are definitively running back to the hotel, Tartt.”

Jamie sighs. It’s a happy sound. “Yes, Coach.”

[theres-a-body-here]

Killers with Pearl!Reader

You cried, begged, and pleaded for anyone who take a chance on you. You dreamed of becoming a star. The Entity gladly reached out her claw, promising you the role of all eternity. You gratefully accepted. You thanked your "supporters" and blew kisses into the air as you walked into the cold, empty fog.

The stage was finally yours

The Ghostface

Danny wasn't amused

He was put on babysitting duty by the Entity; show you the ropes, make sure the others don't bully you, etc.

He had his work cut out for him

You were quite the mess

Neurotic, bratty, and downright vicious when things didn't go your way

This translated into your trials going pretty bad

Gen rushing and whole team escapes

Danny could work with this

He would turn you into the best killer around

(second to him, of course)

Even if it took forever

And in the Entity's realm, there was no rush

You found yourself in the realm alongside Ghostface, within the eerie recreation of your family's farm, sculpted by the Entity. As you practiced your axe swings, he leaned against a decaying fence, arms folded. He let out an exasperated sigh and halted your motions, his voice cutting through the tense air.

"Hey, hold up," he remarked, his masked face giving away little emotion. "You're not getting that technique right. You're swinging way too wildly. You gotta be precise or the survivors are gonna have an easy time spinning you."

Your brows furrowed, a mixture of annoyance and defiance brewing within you. "Oh, really? And who made you the expert on my style?"

He shrugged casually. "Just trying to help. No need to get all bristly."

A surge of frustration rose within you. You clutched your axe handle tighter, your knuckles whitening. "I don't need your help. I'm destined for greatness. I'm meant to be a star."

Danny's expression remained inscrutable behind his mask, but his tone turned more serious. "Being a star means learning and improving. Even stars have to take criticism."

Your grip on the axe tightened even more, your fingers trembling slightly. The words hit a nerve, a raw vulnerability you rarely let show. "I can handle the criticism just fine. But not from you, and not when I'm on the cusp of something big."

Danny lets out another sigh, which carried annoyance. "Fine, have it your way. Just remember, the Entity doesn't care about your style points. It wants results."

You stared at him, a battle of wills and egos in the air. The urge to swing your axe in frustration warred with the nagging truth in his words.

"You just can't stand the idea of someone else shining brighter, can you?" you retorted, your words dripping with bitterness. "But guess what? I'm going to be a star, and then I'll be her favorite, not you."

The Twins

Charlotte warmed up to you pretty quick, even if she didn't know what the hell an actor was

Victor was happy his sister was happy, so he liked you too

You both hung out at your farm

The twins felt a little bit in their element

Nice open space with animals. Nature surrounding them

Victor liked the chickens

Charlotte liked the lightbulbs

You liked having an audience

You gladly put on plays and theatric reenactments of poetry for them

Mostly performed at the killer camp

You're absolutely terrible

Having been hiding for most of their lives, The Deshayes siblings had no frame of reference

You were amazing in their eyes

You spun and kicked your feet as you sang for the twins. Your dancing was stiff and your singing was worse. Out of breath and voice cracks littered throughout the number. The twins were in awe. Victor swayed and gargled out some semblance of the melody he was hearing as Charlotte was clapping to the beat.

The Nightmare chuckled at your awkward attempt at show tunes. He had always enjoyed mocking others. And as he saw your "dancing", he couldn't resist mocking the new fish.

"Looks like we've got a new clown in town," he snickered, gesturing towards you as he glanced at Kenneth, who in turn gave Freddy a nasty glare.

But his laughter quickly came to a halt when he caught sight of Charlotte giving him the death stare, her hands tightly gripping her sickle. Victor didn't seem to notice as he was still glued to your performance.

Julie swiftly elbowed Freddy in the gut and snapped at him "Shut the fuck up before you get gutted asshole"

The Cannibal

Instant connection between the two of you

Both of you being raised at Farms all your lives

The Entity never recreated Bubba's farm

So you let him move into yours

You wanted more fans

Bubba squealed with joy when you told him of your offer

He wasted no time getting his things

He spent so long hugging every animal he could catch

He misses his family

Please comfort him

You also act for him

He claps and squeals happily

He'll join you if you talk him into it

You could hardly contain their excitement as they twirled and pirouetted around Bubba.

"C'mon Bubba, you gotta try it! It's so much fun," You insisted with a wide grin.

Bubba cocked his head to one side, making an animalistic noise that loosely resembled a question.

"Yes, I mean dancing and singing with me," You explained patiently. "I promise we'll have a good time."

Bubba considered the proposition for a moment before nodding his head vigorously - clearly excited at the prospect of sharing something new with his friend.

And so You began to sing – your voice cracking horribly as you struggled to find the right notes. Bubba followed along by making strange grunting noises, attempting to mimic what he heard from your mouth.

As terrible as the duet was, there was something almost freeing about it. For just a few moments, you felt like Anita Stewart.

You both continued flailing around and shouting lyrics until both of you collapsed onto the ground in exhausted laughter - bounding over each other like children who had just finished playing tag.

The Legion

Being one of the younger killers, it was only a matter of time before The Legion sought you out

Susie really wanted to meet you after being in a Trial in your realm

"They have a farm, Frank! I really wanna pet a cow. Please Please Please"

Frank couldn't say no to her

They arrive to your realm and walk in on you slow dancing with a scarecrow

Talk about awkward

You quickly drop Howard to greet your guests

"Oh Hello! I didn't think anyone would drop by"

You giggle as you sway in your red dress like you weren't caught doing something unhinged

It's clear you don't see the issue with it

Despite the rocky start, the Legion warms up to you

And then Frank discovered Theda

"IS THAT A FUCKING GATOR?!?!?!?!"

Frank was stunned as he pointed at Theda sunbathing at the lake's bank

Your family farm instantly became the second Legion hideout

You sat among the legion teens near the bank of your realm's farm, throwing bits of food into the lake for Theda. The alligator was a rare source of entertainment and joy in the realm, and they had come to enjoy these peaceful moments by the water.

Frank leaned forward eagerly, watching as Theda slowly approached their makeshift buffet.

"Come on girl, do a death-roll for us!" he shouted excitedly. He turned back to you with an expectant tone. "You think she'll do it?"

"Well, I don't know," replied you nonchalantly. "She doesn't usually go for those kinds of tricks."

But just as you spoke, Theda suddenly lunged out of the water and snatched up a piece of meat in her powerful jaws. With surprising agility for such a massive creature, she spun around in one swift motion - performing a full death-roll that left Frank cheering triumphantly.

"You fucking saw that?! Holy shit, that was awesome!" he exclaimed.

Susie giggled at Frank's excitement while Julie rolled her eyes behind her mask. Joey was simply lying on the grass with his arms behind his head as he watched the clouds.

The group continued to throw bits of snacks into the water amidst laughter and chatter while keeping an eye on Theda's movements.

Masterlist here

[etraytin]

Postcards From the Dusty Mountains

Took the kiddo out yesterday with me when I went a-volunteering because he is getting very tired of not having anything to do. You know it's getting bad when a guy misses school and is tired of being on his computer all day. I'm not being sarcastic either, I'm deeply sympathetic to his plight and I wish he could get back to school and the friends he was making and the brand-new boyfriend he's been taking those first cautious romantic steps with. He already had to live through COVID homeschooling for two years, and now this. Ugh. I have heard rumors that they are hoping to open the schools back up on October 21, which means two more weeks closed, but it could be worse. So many places still don't even have power, much less water.

Anyway, I took him with me and we went down to a food distribution in Swannanoa. They got hit very very hard, and we spent a couple hours helping a Chick-Fil-A volunteer team from Atlanta hand out hot chicken sandwiches and bottled water. In normal days I don't have much to do with Chick-Fil-A because I don't like their politics, but when the matter at hand is giving hot food to people who've lost their homes, you put the politics aside. I just wish the rest of the country was able to do the same, because I am extraordinarily tired of people thinking of North Carolina as a "battleground state" when the battle we are fighting right now is to keep people alive as the weather starts to turn cold and the water lines stay broken.

Today was busy because I actually managed to keep a doctor's appointment I have been waiting a month for, which was quite a pleasant surprise! The doctor's office is in Hendersonville, so the fact that they were open for business and that I was able to get there are both things that I might have doubted a week ago. I also had an appointment with a local HVAC outfit about getting a whole-house standby generator installed so that next time we have a power outage, we can at least power the fridges, the well pump, the dehumidifiers and my CPAP, with maybe some left over for laptop charging. The price he quoted me for everything except the propane tank and line was $11,000, which was not exactly unexpected but still a big ol' yikes. The good news is, his company bought several of the right size generators before the storm so they would have an inventory, so I could theoretically have a generator before winter really sets in. Highly tempting.

In the afternoon, kiddo and I went out to do more helping. If nothing else has become more apparent over this week, it's that we were and continue to be so, so lucky. Of all the teachers at my husband's school, we are the _only_ family who are still in our own home with all our utilities back up. We are the only members of our extended family in the area who have power. We are part of a tiny fraction of households in the region who have potable water coming from our taps. Given all of that, we decided that we were going to take my final paycheck from canvassing and put it into a community that was not lucky at all. Our Lowes got restocked big time this week, so I was able to go in and get a propane tank, a gas can, a huge box of contractor bags, a straight rake, a shovel, and a gas-powered chainsaw with two cans of fuel for it. We also raided our own house and took our own three shovels and straight rake, our garden cart, some very cute hiking boots I bought but hadn't worn yet, eight packs of bath wipes and two of our cell phone power banks and drove the whole thing down to Black Mountain.

Black Mountain is very close to Swannanoa and was also hit extremely hard by the storm. We didn't go around touristing, but even on the main roads we took we could see devastation everywhere. Everywhere the water touched was drenched in toxic mud, which has dried over the past two weeks into an awful choking dust that covers everything. It blows on the wind and rises with every passing car. As we drove I took the opportunity to explain how the search and rescue paint marking system works to Kiddo, because their bright green graffiti was on all the half-destroyed houses we were passing.

There's an outdoor music venue in Black Mountain called Silverados that has been turned into a massive distribution center. Hot meals were being passed out in the front, while the rear was a busy hive of organizing and distributing supplies. We went there and dropped off all our items, where they were carted away into an absolutely teeming hub of supplies and volunteers. We asked if they needed any more help today, but they definitely had enough willing hands. I think my dad will laugh because I finally did get the chainsaw he talked me out of, but then gave it away before it even left the box.

With a little time on our hands, we went back up north and visited our favorite grocery store, the one that sells lightly-expired canned and boxed food at greatly reduced prices. We were very happy to see that they'd come through the storm unscathed except for a lack of internet, and stocked up on more of the seemingly endless supply of Old El Paso meal kits that they sell two for a dollar. Cheaper than buying tortillas and taco seasoning, lol! We also visited the local record store, which opened for regular business hours despite the circumstances as well, and bought a couple of records because we want them to stay in business even though times are tough. It was, overall, an extremely successful outing.

Sometimes the world here in our house feels tantalizingly close to normal, an endless weekend where we are just waiting to go back to school and work. But just driving into town and seeing all the places closed for lack of water is enough to destroy that bubble, and driving thirty minutes in any direction is like stepping into a different world. Marshall, Spruce Pine, Swannanoa, Black Mountain, the River Arts District. Dozens more places that I have not seen and probably couldn't even get to if I tried. I'm very afraid for what is about to happen in Florida, for their sake and for ours. Appalachia has a long history of being forgotten about when bad things are happening. I really hope it doesn't go that way again.

[handsupinthebalorclub]

Anagapesis (Chapter 9)

pairing: the shield x reader

word count: 2,337

summary: Anagapesis (n.) no longer feeling any affection for something or someone you once loved. After three years, you’re officially the manager of the Shield once again. But, things aren’t quite the same as they used to be.

warnings: cursing, mentions of betrayal, trust issues

playlist: spotify

Author's Note: It's been awhile! But, here's part 9

chapter one / chapter two / chapter three / chapter four / chapter five /chapter six / chapter seven / chapter eight / chapter nine

_____________________________________________________________

“Oh come on, can’t you pretend to be happy? Just for a moment?” Roman asked from your position inside of the ring. 

“No.” You grumbled. This earned you an amused look from Michael Cole, who would be overseeing that night’s contract signings. 

You hated signings. With a passion. Every signing you have been to, whether it be for the Shield or any other client, has turned out to be a mess. To make matters worse, you had to attend two today. Dean swiveled in the black office chair towards you in order to make a comment, but before he could, The Bar’s music overtook the speakers. Dean turned back around and clasped his hands together on the table. 

The pair walked down the ramp, showing off their titles as they did so. Once they reached the ring, Roman lowered himself into the seat next to Dean. You stayed off to the side, hoping that for once in their lives, the guys could be their own mouthpiece. 

That tactic actually seemed like it was going to work, shockingly. You watched in awe as Sheamus and Cesaro, the first team to sign, picked up their pens. You had actually anticipated this interaction being a lot more mentally taxing. 

Well, that was until any dreams of a simple signing went out the window the moment Dean leaned over and whispered something, very loudly and obnoxiously, to Roman. 

“How many cans of hairspray do you think it takes for Sheamus to get his hair like that?” This off-hand comment was enough for Sheamus to pause before pressing the pen down onto paper. 

“What?” 

 Dean acted as if he didn’t hear Sheamus’ question and continued. “Do you think Cesaro helps him? Probably, right? That’s cute. Why don’t you help me do my hair?”

Roman attempted to suppress a smile. You, on the other hand, had to resist the urge to hit Dean upside the head for prolonging this. Cesaro now looked up with creased brows, also with an unfinished signature in front of him. 

“Is this some sort of strategy?” He asked. Dean finally decided to acknowledge them and leant back into his seat.

“I dunno. Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t. Who knows?” 

“Crazy asshole,” Sheamus mumbled. 

“You think I’m crazy?” Dean placed a hand over his chest in offense. “You two think you’re going to actually hold onto those titles. Calling me crazy, sheesh. You’re the crazy ones.” This was enough for Sheamus to suck his teeth and stare down at Dean. Feeling the tension, you quickly decided to intervene. The moment you stepped forward, Roman quickly handed the unused microphone that was in his hand to you. 

“Cesaro, Sheamus, I’m so sorry about my client’s behavior. There’s no reason for any action to happen tonight. Let’s save the fight for the Rumble, yeah?” You painted a smile onto your face. It looked as if Sheamus was just about to let it go when Dean turned to face you like he had done before The Bar had gotten there. A smirk was obvious on his face, a clear sign he knew how difficult he was making this for you. You made a mental note to get him back for this. 

“Y/n, there’s no use reasoning with them. They’re obviously delusional.” This was apparently the last straw for Sheamus, who placed his hands upon the table and started to get up. Yet, he was stopped by Cesaro. 

“He’s just trying to get a rise out of you, Sheamy.” Sheamus looked at his counterpart with narrowed eyes, but sat back down. Not even six seconds later, they had both signed the contract. Sheamus, quite harshly, slid the contract to the Shield. Roman quickly signed and gave the paper to Dean, who happily signed his name. You rolled your eyes at the little smiley face Dean had added to the end of his signature. This man… 

When The Bar’s music began to end the segment, you quickly did your best to drag Dean out of the ring to avoid further confrontation. You were pretty sure if he had the chance to, Dean would probably throw a punch for the hell of it. And knowing Roman, he probably wouldn’t have stopped him. Upon arriving at the gorilla, you let out a large sigh. 

“You,” You grumbled while pointing at Dean. “Are the worst.” 

“And?” He laughed. However, you just crossed your arms. “Oh come on, you can’t tell me that wasn’t fun for you! It was fun for Ro! Right, bro? Back me up here.” Dean twisted his body to look at the man who was walking next to him. 

“Hey, don’t bring me into this.” Roman chuckled. You took out your phone and quickly checked the time, realizing that you had to be in Kurt’s office in two minutes. Kurt was kind enough to let you and Jason borrow his office yet again to talk business. 

“I gotta go, have a meeting.” You locked your phone and slipped it into your pocket. 

“With who?” Roman questioned. 

“Marketing. Something about individual merch?” You mentally applauded yourself for a good on the spot lie. “I’ll talk to you guys later. Be good, Dean.” You began to walk away. Dean stood there, looking at your retreating figure with an open mouth. 

“I’m always good!” He called back, causing you to sputter out a laugh. 

* * *

This time, when you entered the office, you made sure to lock it behind you. Of course nothing happened last time, but you knew there was a very large chance a lot of wrestlers were pissed off with their Rumble entrance numbers and wanted to take it up with the general manager. When you turned back around, Jason sat at his father’s desk with a large smile on his face. You apprehensively approached and slowly sat down in one of the folding chairs before him.

“Hey!” Jason beamed. 

              You furrowed your brows.“Hey?” His smile didn’t seem to change. “Can you stop? You’re scaring me.” You commented. Jason’s expression fell as he crossed his arms. 

“Oh come on, I’m just excited! It’s my first Rumble!” 

“I’m scared and I’m not even the one wrestling.” Of course you loved the Rumble, but it was a stressful time. Jason rolled his eyes and kicked his feet up on the table. You had the desire to shoo them off, not sure if Kurt would like him using the desk as his personal foot rest. Yet, you allowed it. 

“So, got any tips on how I can win this thing?” 

“Uh, no.” You laughed. “Rumbles are hard to prepare for. No one knows who’s in or what position. There’s too many variables. You’re on your own this time. Don’t fuck it up, okay?” 

“Hmm, does this mean I don’t have to listen to you yap about foot positions?” 

Your eyes narrowed at him. “I’m trying to help you. Your stance is way too wide when you do front suplexes. You’re going to end up falling on your face one of these days. I saw you almost stumble while picking up Hawkins.” 

“It’s called having some dramatic flair, y/n. Maybe you should try it some time.” Jason jested. 

“No thanks, I’ll stick to being boring,” You commented. At that moment, you felt the familiar buzz of your phone. As usual, it was Seth summoning you to the gorilla. The words ‘I have a plan’ came through not even a second after. You held in a sigh and stood up. “Take your feet off the desk. I’m not sure your dad wants footprints on his documents.” 

“What are you? My mom?” Jason rolled his eyes, but followed your instructions. “Which hound was it?” 

“No, I’m your manager. Seth sent me a text. We have our signing with Brock in a little bit.” You slipped your phone back into your pocket. 

“Ah, the yappy chihuahua,” He smirked. 

“Chihua—I don’t even want to know. I’ll talk to you later.” As you were leaving, you saw Jason put his feet back onto Kurt’s desk. 

* * *

The moment you turned the corner into the gorilla, your eyes locked onto Seth’s figure a little bit down the hall. However, this meant that you almost collided with a very frazzled audio engineer. They gave a rushed apology and briskly walked passed. 

“I almost got knocked over earlier by a tech carrying a huge light,” Seth explained from his position leaning on the wall. “The gorilla is a mess.” 

“Now that you mention it, everyone does seem more stressed today,” You looked around the area to see various people bustling about. “I wonder why?” 

Not even a moment passed before a large commotion could be heard, followed by the sight of Brock Lesnar and a very red faced Paul Heyman. 

“When the Champion says he wants water in his locker room, he means spring water goddamn it!” Paul bellowed as he and Brock pushed through a group of poor stage hands. 

“That answers that question,” Seth answered with crossed arms. 

You held in the urge to sigh and decided to revert the conversation to the topic at hand. “So, what’s this plan that you have?” 

“Hm?” Seth cocked his head to the side for a second. “Oh, I didn’t actually have one. Roman told me that you were in some boring meeting.” 

You stared at Seth, your mouth slightly agape. “Not everyone finds meetings boring, Rollins.” 

He just stood there, unbothered. “So you’re telling me that you were having fun?” 

“And if I was?” You shifted your weight from one side to the other. 

“I’d probably mark you down as clinically insane.”

Your shoulders slumped. “Finn asked me if I wanted a cup of coffee earlier. I’m regretting turning it down.” 

“Once I become the champ, I’ll make sure the locker room is filled with coffee. Anything for the champ, right?”

You couldn’t help but narrow your eyes at him. There was a direct parallel between that statement and Brock storming out of his VIP locker room, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it out loud. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Seth asked. 

“Nothing, Rollins. Nothing. Now that you just ruined my schedule and our signing isn’t for another…” You checked the time on your phone. “Fifteen minutes…so, I’ll see you later.” You began walking back in the direction from which you came. 

“Where are you going?” Seth called as he kicked off of the wall. 

“Anywhere but here.” You replied over your shoulder. 

A little while later, you sat at the table within the ring once again. Seth stared down Brock, while your attention was on Paul Heyman, who stood behind Brock’s chair. 

The moment Paul brought the microphone to his lips, you prepared for the onslaught. 

“Miss L/n, this is your last chance to convince your client to step down.” 

“Over the years Rollins has made plenty of dumb decisions, and will probably continue to do so,” This statement made Seth give you an offended expression, which you ignored. “But this is a decision I agree with. Brock Lesnar hasn’t shown up for a title defense in months, which isn’t fair to both our fellow colleagues and the WWE Universe.”

“In order to fight the Champion, you have to earn it. And half of these wrestlers,” he put the term in air quotes, “haven’t. When fans see Brock, and that title, they get excited. They know they're about to get a show. Isn’t that right?” 

The audience gave a weak shout of approval. At that moment, Seth leaned over so that his face was in front of your microphone. You could feel a bead of sweat forming on your brow, him being too close for comfort. 

“I think they would rather see a show every week rather than once a year.” 

Michael Cole silently pushed the contract towards the middle of the table, reminding everyone of the task at hand. Thankfully, Seth grabbed hold of the pen and scribbled his name across the paper.

“You’re making a mistake.” Paul warned. Seth, rather roughly, pushed the document towards Brock. The other man didn’t look too happy when the folder’s corner bumped into his arm. Begrudgingly, he signed as well. 

Before you could reply, a sudden blur of white took over your vision. When you came to, you realized that you were now sitting on the canvas and your nose hurt. A lot. 

You looked around, trying to piece together what had just happened. On the other side of the ring, Seth’s back was pressed against the ropes, his eyes wide and directly on you. The, once upright table, was now flipped over a few inches away from you. When your eyes trailed up to Brock, you saw him with a wide smile. 

Within that instant, the sound of the Shield’s music blasted through the arena. Out of seemingly nowhere, Dean slid into the squared circle and Roman appeared as well. 

“What was that for? Huh?” Dean yelled towards your attacker. He hopped up and down, ready for a fight. Brock threw his hands up and quickly jumped out of the ring. One look from Dean sent Paul scurrying into the same position as his partner. 

“Y/n, you okay?” Roman was suddenly at your side, cupping his hands under your chin so he could get a good look at you. 

“Did…did he just throw the table?” You asked. Roman didn’t respond, still inspecting your face. You curiously brought a hand up to your nose. When you pulled away, the sight of blood on your palm made your heartbeat quicken. 

“Hey, we need a medic!” Roman shouted into the sidelines. 

This seemed to finally awaken the paralyzed Seth, who quickly ran over to your other side. 

“Y/n…” He started, but the words fizzled at the sight of the two medics who had just entered the ring. One handed Roman a towel and instructed him to catch some of the blood. 

This was exactly why you hated signing nights.

[freakinator]

I've been wondering for a long time. How would you characterise Wemmbu? How he seems in your eyes, your opinion of the guy. I hope I don't sound weird or crazy.

aw dw anon its okay to be curious ^^

regarding my characterization of wemmbu, while there is a lot of consistency in how he acts since hes an improv rper and therefore generally just acts as a polished/exaggerated version of his own self, there are still a few differences in how he acts depending on what smp hes in

general: smarmy, quite pathetic but tries his best to hide it until he literally cant anymore, opportunistic, petty, truthful in that kind of way that makes you doubt him, not quite black and white thinking but can switch up fast when someone does something that presses his buttons (doesnt necessarily trigger when someones just being mean, its specific kinds of things -- mostly has something to do with pride and trust), has a desire to be on top of things but whether or not he indulges in that desire depends on his overall plans and the kind of server hes in, silly but in a lowkey way as in like he presents himself as a normal person which works but only if you dont look closer, lowkey cringey in that uwu kinda way (affectionate), good at one-on-one yapping esp if hes confident & knows more about the situation than the other person but starts to crumble if its either him vs a group or if hes genuinely not confident about something, willing to sacrifice so much just to achieve his goals whatever they may be

kings smp: more opportunistic and a lot more willing to lie & manipulate & betray, crab mentality very high but he holds it back since indulgin in all of it at once isnt very good for his plans

challenge smps: like kings smp but even More willing to lie & manipulate & betray, has a stronger crab mentality since the whole point of the smp is to win and he really wants to win and he knows he wont be seeing these ppl in this context again anyway so hes willing to do whatever it takes even if it means betraying his allies, << does Not apply to team challenges btw he will be very loyal until hes given a reason to betray such as believing the others are betraying them first

lifesteal smp: had a good grasp of what it means to be a lifestealer right from the get go but has struggled a bit in figuring out what that means for him exactly so he still has a bit of that new guy stench if you get what i mean (this characterization becomes less and less prominent the later in the timeline it is), has been very loyal thus far and is more than happy to point that out, average level of lifestealer aggressiveness, i like to parallel him with zam mirror-style due to them having opposite thought processes but coming to similar conclusions (pic below of unfinished draft ive had for ages cause idk how to word my thoughts regarding this properly other than 'the vibes')

unstableverse: very obvious mirror parallel to zam that i honestly wouldnt be surprised if it was on purpose, kinda hard talking about his motivations and character devoid of context regarding zam considering he spent 4 out of 5 eps as a major character (even when he isnt actually there lmao) and wemmbu spent 3 of those 4 eps obsessing over him but i will try my best, can be a bit of a stalker but only if he really cares about whatever it is the guy hes stalking is doing/potentially doing, no empathy (affectionate), generally doesnt care that much about individual players but when he gets attached he gets Attached for better or worse, zeroes in on his goals even to his own and others' detriment, a lot more pathetic than in other smps or at least has a harder time hiding his patheticness, also may just be me but i think hes more pessimistic?? not entirely sure tho

overall i think hes pretty neat! pretty cute and silly but also devious and mischievous, if i could shake him in a can i would

[palomahasenteredthechat]

https://www.tumblr.com/palomahasenteredthechat/761283849847177216/so-it-wasnt-a-fail-for-him-having-most-of-his?source=share No no no no no, this doesn't have to do with the obsessive and stalking people who *call* themselves fans. It doesn't have to do with the people who wait for him outside his hotels, follow him around the streets for pictures and behave inappropriately at cons. Those are not the core fans, those aren't even fans.

It has to do with the people who supported him from day one, who saw someone they could connect with and believed in him because he seemed down to earth and sweet, and supported and admired his talent and his work. He seemed to be able to "connect" with people, and I don't mean it in a weird way. I am very much aware of the fact that I don't know him, I don't think I know him because I see him in my screen and admire him, and it's none of my business who he's gonna date. He's a grown man and he will do what he wants in his personal life. But the *way* this whole thing happened, (especially since he always protected his personal life and was always very private) and yes, the person with which it happened, in this instance, are problematic. Not because "omg I wish it was me he dated!" but because, since he is in a relationship/situationship or whatever they are, with a person who has said and done awful things, things that are very triggering to many of us, one can't help but wonder "is he like her too? Does he believe the same things as her?? Or maybe he doesn't even care what she supports?" And honestly, I don't know which is worse. Furthermore, when this thing started and it backlashed and it didn't turn out the way he/his team might have thought it would, what he/his team did was to start dropping old backstage videos of him and such, trying to do what? To sugarcoat the whole thing? That damage control move from them seemed to me, and as I understand, to a lot of others, like they think we're stupid. Felt like they said "Throw them some new/old stuff of him being super cute, the way they have him in their heads, to stop the mess that has been created. Give them what they want and they'll forget about it." Well, we're not sheep. We have the right to have certain feelings about the situation, we have the right to have an opinion since they put whatever relationship they have out there for people to see. "like he simply does not care about what you think about his personal life because he probably thinks that, if you can go to those great lengths and disrespect somebody like this and cross multiple boundaries under the guise of "we care", "his gf is problematic", "this isn't who he is", "this is so out of character",yada yada yada, then maybe he thinks it's better to not have that specific group of people as fans. no matter how long they have been riding with him."

I will not be called problematic and disrespectful for expressing my opinion about something that, yes, of course it doesn't affect me directly, but it does affect a certain part of me which did believe in him, and which felt comforted and inspired by him and his work. It does hurt to feel that he doesn't care, simply because, also, the fans played an important role to where he is today. And since, like it seemed, he respected and was thankful for most of his fans too. It has to do with mutual respect. And yes, it also affects me because, as I already mentioned, I wouldn't like to see, at the end of the day, that the person I have been admiring so much supports awful things, or doesn't care that their partner is such an awful and problematic person. To conclude, nobody said they wanted him to remain boyish and insecure. Nobody said that him being more confident and comfortable is a negative thing. Quite the contrary. I loved to see him more sure and confident as the months went by. But the recent events might be leading to different conclusions. Yes, fame might have changed him. We can't know how he's feeling about this sudden thing that changed, I assume, his whole life these past 2 years.

But it would be very disappointing to see that he changed in a way that makes him not care about his fans anymore. Because, as it seemed, he did care about them at some point. And, in my opinion, it is not cool to want to turn the people who have been supporting you since day 1, away. And i'd like to be proven wrong but, based on what they wanted to show us (and not based on assumptions in my head), he doesn't seem to care anymore.

Wow. Nonny, you put everything so well. You really captured what so many of feel. Thank you.

"I will not be called problematic and disrespectful for expressing my opinion about something that, yes, of course it doesn't affect me directly, but it does affect a certain part of me which did believe in him, and which felt comforted and inspired by him and his work."

Exactly. An opinion. On a Tumblr blog. This.