#like these brands make probably millions every year

[unreadpoppy]

Saw a video and it got me in a mood so i'm making this post.

I don't think people who have never been fat knows how fucking hard it is to find clothing for bigger bodies.

The first issue is finding stuff in your actual size. Because time after time after time and time again I've gone to a store and they only had small and medium sizes. Not even large. And this was not for a few clothes, no. It was for MOST clothes that I found interesting. And then the ones that were marked as large were simply not big enough.

And I know that the reason for that is that brands simply won't make clothes for fat people. It's that because it surely isn't because the large size is selling out fast. They just don't do it. And some people have the nerve to say 'well brands are not obligated to make sizes for everyone' yeah sure, but also, I can't walk naked on the street can I?

Like I don't get it. 'oh but we want our clothes to fit a especific body' so fucking make clothes that are supposed to fit bigger bodies. Doesn't have a to be a whole ass collection.

And then we get on the second problem which is making clothes for plus size people that are ugly as hell. It's always the same stuff: ugly florals, animal print that belongs in another decade, cold shoulders, that weird extra fabric at the end of a shirt to hide the belly, or just black/muted colors.

Like fun fact. If you have big boobs, the hardest thing in the world is trying to find a bra that comes in a color that isn't white, black or beige. Because trust me, I've spent 3 hours walking in the shopping mall and I couldn't find anything that fit my breasts that was like pink (and in that situation I needed a pink bra for a play).

It feels like most clothes made for plus sized people are designed with like 50+ year old white women in mind, and not even that demographic of people are wearing those clothes (my mom is a plus sized 50+ year old white woman and often talks about how ugly some clothes made for people her size are).

It's hard trying to develop your own sense of style when none of the clothes around you are in your size, and when they do, they are just not good looking to you.

But you wanna know what's the down right worst part? Do you know what fucking brand has clothes that look good and are amde for bigger bodies?

The goddamn cancer on this earth that is Shein.

I fucking hate shein. Fast fashion is killin the fashion industry, they literally have people working as slaves and many influecers buy shein clothes by the bulk only to then throw it in the trash. Shein is awful.

But. Unfortunetly, shein is the only place that I found that had clothes that fit me and looked good. I don't like that. I avoided buying from shein for the longest time ever, but jesus christ, when you can't find clothes anywhere else you get desperate.

I tried looking for other places. I tried looking at my local clothing stores and everything was too small for me. I tried looking at online small bussinesses but they either didn't make my size, or it was sold out, or the prices were very high. Tried looking at thrift stores, also didn't find my size.

I try not to buy too much from shein or to spend long periods of time in between buying, because again, I feel bad about buying there. I don't want to buy from there.

Clothing brands/stores gotta do better. And I don't think that's asking for too much.

[wosofutbolfan]

If You Need Me, Call Me

Alexia Putellas x Explorer!R Pt.2 in the 'I Would Climb Every Mountain With You' Universe.

Hi Guys, Thank you for all the love on the first part in this series. This is part 2 that I didn't expect to write. I have an inability to not write angst. TW: Claustrophobia. Injury. Events are not based on any real life events. Part two of I Would Climb Every Mountain With You. I would recommend you read that first, for some context. But you can do what you want really ;-)

You and Alexia had been together, happily, for a year. And it was happily. Though. ‘Together’ is probably being quite liberal with the word. And. You suppose. ‘Happily’ is also being quite liberal with the word. You loved Alexia. 

And Alexia loved you. 

That was clear to both of you. You admitted it early, before she’d even left UK soil after she’d come back with you from your first meeting. She’d rolled her eyes at you and the nerves on your face as you lay in bed together in your pokey Cumbrian flat, and kissed the words from your lips; ‘well duh, of course you do. And I love you.’ which made you laugh and fall into her lips again. But it wasn’t even 12 hours later that you’d had to separate with her season starting again and her need to be in Spain. Her teammates had teased her relentlessly on her return. How she’d U-Hauled with the Jefa de montaña and ran away to the rainey island she so famously disliked just to spend another day together. She'd rolled her eyes and slapped the back of a few heads but it was true. That is what she had done. She’d been overjoyed when she spotted you in the crowd on the first home game of the season. You’d made the surprise trip to Barcelona at the last minute, employing Ingrid to get a ticket in the friends and family section for you. The smile on the Captain's face as she spotted you could be seen from space. You had winked at her and proudly gestured to your brand new Barcelona jersey, Alexias number proudly splayed across your back. As the game ended, with a convincing win for the home team, she’d made a beeline for you in the stands. Jumping over the barrier and embracing you like you hadn’t seen each other for months (oh how used to that feeling you would become), rather than a couple of weeks. “I thought that you preferred rugby?” she had teased you. “Ah, I do, but no one told me how hot the captain in blue and red was” you’d replied, with a wink. Enjoying the blush you’d created on her face, before it was your turn to blush as Alexias eyes darted to your right and greeted, “Mami! Hola!” and embraced a small women in a shirt matching yours who was definitely standing within hearing distance. Just over her shoulder a carbon-copy of Alexia was lurking, a childlike grin on her face and twinkle in her eyes. “Ah, and this is mi hermana Alba!” she had introduced you. ‘Well, nothing like diving in headfirst’ you thought to yourself, as you were introduced to your apparently-new girlfriend's family, as that's what you had just been introduced as, with a squeeze of your hand and a kiss to the side of your head. The Putellas family embraced you with all the enthusiasm in the world. Alba kept you entertained and asked you a million and one questions as you waited for Alexia to be finished with her media and captain duties. Before you knew it you were at an impromptu meet-the-new-english-girlfriend party at the Putellas residence, sharing food with seemingly everyone who had ever been related to Alexia as well as their next door neighbours. Sharing wine, food, and lots of baby Alexia pictures. So yes. You had both moved fast. Maybe it was the speed which you were going that would soon become your downfall. You were moving a million miles an hour and the warning signs were a blur that you couldn’t quite make out. Of those first 6 months, you were on an exhibition for 4. You had travelled to Patagonia to climb some of the last unclaimed peaks on the planet with the National Geographic Society. They were unreachable by road or even yak. You had to sail to the bottom of South America and then move your way up on foot.  It was arduous, it was treacherous, but you found satisfaction and joy in the difficulty.

You become the first person and only woman to ever summit Orjos del Salado and, as you snapped a picture at the top, all you thought was how excited you were to share your achievement with Alexia. As you’d called her a week later from a dive-bar in a shanty town in central Argentina you could hear the pride and relief in her voice, even through the terrible connection. It was the first time you had been able to contact her in a month.

But you’d gone straight from there to leading some American businessmen through the Amazon on a 3 week river and hiking exploration. It paid handsomely, you’d explained to the disappointed blonde, you couldn’t turn it down.

You returned to Barcelona in time to spend a week together before Alexia left for a two week international camp.  Which was then followed by a week long trip for her to Norway, as part of their group stage champions league campaign.

You’d joined her there, soaking as much time together as possible between her matches and training sessions. Maybe it was then that the cracks had begun to show. As you had woken early to pick her up from her hotel to go for an early morning walk and grab some coffee before her media duties. You had been walking hand in hand in the early morning sunshine. You had been half-way through a story from the day before, where you and Ingrid's mum had gone together to a lake outside of Oslo, when you felt her drop your hand suddenly and took a half step away from you. “Huh?” you looked at her and a look you hadn’t seen before took over her features, “What’s going on Ale?”. “Trust me” was all she’d replied, and then it had become apparent her problem as a swarm of fans suddenly engulfed her, asking for selfies and autographs, which she gave out, graciously. She skillfully extracted herself from the situation before you both continued on your way, but now, you noticed, you were at least a foot further apart and a weird atmosphere had taken over you both. It had been when you were both safely in the cafe that you’d addressed it, “are you ashamed of me?” you asked, unable to mask the hurt in your voice. Hands safely wrapped around your Tea. “No!” she’d replied, aghast, as she pulled your hands from your mug into her own. “mírame cariño” you did, and saw the heartbreaking look in her eyes. “I would never be ashamed of you. Do not think that for one moment.” she said it with such conviction that you couldn’t help but nod. “I am sorry, but it is easier. For you. The media. They will pry into your life. It’s happened before with… partners and… I don’t want that for you. For your family. I love you.” “I won’t hide Ale.” you replied. Firmly. You were a free spirit. It was not in your nature to hide yourself, any part of yourself, for anything or anyone. The thought of it made you claustrophobic. “I know you won’t.” she huffed out a laugh, “I do not want us to hide. I promise. But, maybe, if we do not make their job easy for them? Can we do that?”. The look of desperation on her face broke your heart. “Bueno Ale. Para ti. Yo también te amo.” You’d gone your separate ways from there, you had explorations to complete, she was busy with the team. She’d managed to visit England for a few days when her UCWL matches lined up, and you started to return to Barcelona, rather than Cumbria, as a home base between trips. And that's how it had gone for some time. Your birthday had passed, you’d spent it together in Barcelona, Ale having stolen your trusty-old boots and had them professionally repaired and re-waxed. As she presented them to you, on her balcony with a cute bow on top, your heart expanded in joy. She got you. She knew you didn’t want new-top of the range boots that she definitely could afford. This actually was harder, she’d had to research the dying-art of cobblers in the area. She had to sneak them out of your duffell bag, she must have distracted you every time you went for them as your go-to walking shoes in the week. With all her money and fame. She understood that wasn’t you. You loved what you had. And she got that. As you had turned the boots in your hands, taking in all of the familiarity in all their glory and feeling the waxy leather beneath your fingers she couldn’t read your face. “I hope you don’t mind” she’d taken them gently from your hands and she pulled back the tongue, which showed a piece of jersey sewn into the backing-fabric. Blue and red, with a white AP11 embroidered into it. “It's from my first champions league shirt. I cut a swatch off, and had them sew it in…” she whispered. The moment had been heavy. “I know we don’t get to spend time together like most couples, but this way, I’ll always be with you.” Your throat had burned with the effort to keep your tears at bay, you were unsuccessful when you felt her warm hand cup your face and wipe a tear away,

“I’m sorry, It’s probably way too intrusive and I shouldn’t have taken your stuff, I can ta…” You’d silenced her with a kiss. Intense and hungry. “This is the most thoughtful gift I have ever had. I love you Ale. I love you so much.”  “Good.”... you both take a moment to look into each other's eyes, then you feel a movement as she reaches into her pocket and presents proudly what she’s pulled out, eyes shining with mirth “Then maybe you will consider these laces too, no?” and you burst out laughing whilst you take in the Blaugrana coloured hiking laces. You’ve not got it in you to not agree. But love sometimes isn’t enough. Time passed. You continued your work and she continued hers. Valentines days spent on opposite sides of the globe. You weren’t there when she won the Champions League, instead spending it watching it in a bar in Jordan. She wasn’t there as you returned from reaching an undiscovered island as part of a research crew in the South Pacific, instead being in Munich to film a new Nike ad. When you were together you couldn’t walk the streets of Barcelona hand in hand. You’d kept your promise and she kept hers. You weren’t hidden, but you weren’t showcasing your relationship. When she came to England you had more freedom, the people of Cumbia didn’t know who the Spanish superstar was, they just knew her as your girlfriend. Your fit girlfriend according to the teenage boy who lived next door to your mum. You made it work though, between you. You would send her snaps every time you saw children playing football. Pictures from south pacific islands to the mountain villages of the Himalayas, and every time you would receive the same response; “See, el deporte del mundo, I told you <3” It was a perfect storm. What happened. You’d spent a month in Barcelona, more time that you had been able to spend together in the year you’d been a couple. You’d fallen into a domesticity that you hadn’t experienced before. 

Alexia would train, you would have dinner ready for her. She would wake you up with a cup of Tea from her new kettle she's bought especially for you. You would plan routes and give advice to your online contacts about expeditions they had planned. You would sleep wrapped in each other's arms, Alexia would even let you be the big spoon, very occasionally. 

It felt perfect.  Until one, simple comment.

“Ay, look at you, wifey!” Mapi had exclaimed from her place at the table as you brought in the dinner you had prepared for the group,  you had invited her and Ingrid for a couples night, “who would have thought, “La jefa de la montaña. Tamed!” “Shut up Maria.” Ingrid nudged her girlfriend, with a kind smile she turned to you, “This looks delicious! Thank you” As the group tucked in though, you were distracted. Suddenly, the weight of Alexia's hand on your thigh felt heavy. The walls, too constricting. For you, the heat of Barcelona started to become oppressive. Too predictable. You missed England, you missed not knowing what the weather would be hour by hour. The contact blue skies felt like a false--happiness was being forced on you. The ground at your feet, sun dried, felt harsh compared to the muddy grass you had grown up stomping on. Soft, flexible. The routine started to bore you. You missed the weight of your backpack and the freedom of slinging up your hammock. Alexia hadn’t missed the way you had clammed up, the tenseness in your posture, the way your laugh did not reach your eyes for the rest of that evening. For the weeks following she felt like keeping you was like trying to catch smoke. Like trying to hold sand in her bare hands. She could feel you escape through her fingers for the next few weeks.

Which is why she wasn’t surprised when she returned from an away trip to Mallorca to see you on the couch. Hands nervously twisting and unable to meet her eye.

“You’re going again, aren't you?” she asked, as she dropped her bag at the door and settled next to you, taking your hands in hers. You nodded.

“I’m sorry Ale. It's just. It's not me.” you’d explained then, how you had been feeling. And she listened. Even though she knew. Of course she already knew.

“It’s okay, carino.” you’d assured you. You’d look up then, “it is?”

“Si, Mi Vida. I would never ask you to change. And only you would be bored of the life of a professional footballer, and you must be the only English person to ever complain about the weather in Barcelona” she’d lightened the mood with her joke, and rolled her eyes good naturedly.

“Where are you going this time?” she’d continued, and she should have known from your pause that this wasn’t the usual goodbye.

“Everest.”

“Everest.”  She’d reperated. Joy in her voice, she knew it was your life’s ambition to climb the world's highest summit. “...and Denali, and Elbrus...” you had continued to name the 7 highest summits on each continent that you would spend the next 18 months climbing, without oxygen, as part of an international exploration. Silence filled the apartment. “I….” “No.” “No?” you asked, shock in your voice. “No, what?” “No, you can’t do that. It's too dangerous.” “But Ale…” “No. No ‘but Ale’. I get it. I have been your partner now for long enough. I understand. But this is too much. No oxygen, so many climbs… there is too much danger. No.” her tone firm. Final. Her Captain's voice. And that had made the walls feel like they were closing in for you. And you responded like a wild animal, backed into a corner, defensive. “I wasn’t asking.” She let out a frustrated groan, hands covering her face. “Carino, please no. Listen to me. Being with you…” a huff again… “it is hard.” “Oh well, I am sorry Alexia, if being with me is such a chore…” you started. “No, stop, you are not letting me speak…” but you had started at that point. “You are not the one who is hidden away, you aren’t one who has had to move countries, to miss her family, your life hasn’t changed! You’ve given up nothing for this relationship.” you hiss out at her, hardly recognising your own voice. You're speaking just to hurt her. To make this easier for both of you. And that final sentence, seems to be what breaks the usually cool and calm exterior of your girlfriend and she stands and points her finger at you. “Nothing! ¡nada! ¿Cómo te atreves?” she spits out at you, the anger in her tone surprises you, you have never heard her speak like this, “I have sat here and waited. For months I have waited. For anything from you. Being with you is not like a long-distance relationship. You go, for months at a time, you go. And you expect me to sit here and wait. And I do. You do not text, you do not call. I understand that you cannot but do not say I have made no sacrifice for this relationship. When you got lost in the Gobi desert for weeks, what do you think I was doing? Sitting here! Jumping out of my skin every time the phone rang in case it was your Mami telling me you had been found dead. I did not play in The Copa De La Reinga final because I was so sick with worry. He hecho sacrificio. mi equipo, mi familia ha hecho sacrificio and I will not let you disrespect me or them and let you say otherwise.” 

Alexia doesn’t lose any of her anger in her tirade. And the silence that settles over the apartment is heavy. She seems to have surprised herself, as her eyes go wide and she opens her mouth again… but you interrupt her. “No Ale. Do not apologise.” you hold your hand up. “I didn’t think. I'm sorry. You are right. I am not good for you.” This is why you didn’t do relationships. You were a bad partner. You needed to be free, outside, exploring. You lived for adventure. It wasn’t fair.

“No! No Carino, that is not what I said!” tears are in her eyes now, and you knew this would be hard, but you didn’t know it would be this hard. “I love you...” “I love you too,” she quickly replies. Neither of you had even been shy with your affirmations to each other. “I love you so much Ale. But I have to go and do this. I have too. It is who I am. It is my dream. It.. It is my world cup.” She huffs out a laugh as she gently nudges herself into your arms, your attempt at speaking in a way she would understand humouring her. “I know.” she replies, sadly, “but I cannot go through that for 18 months mi amor. I cannot.” “And I won’t ask you to, love.” You move a strand of hair from her face as you kiss her lips, gently, there's a finality in it, you open your mouth again but she cuts in. “I can’t say anything that will stop you, can i?” she asks, as you shake your head, sadly. “When do you leave?” You cringe as you confirm her worst thoughts, “tomorrow.” She takes a deep breath and presses her face into your neck. “Can we do one thing before you go?” she asks you. 

Anything. You would give this woman in your arms anything she asked for at that moment. Apart from stay. And that's how you found yourself swinging on your old lightweight hammock. 

Strung up securely in the Putellas back yard. As you lay on your (ex?) girlfriend's chest, as you both looked up at the stars. You chatted into the night, you laughed and you cried. You fumbled under the blankets like horny teenagers. She asked you to promise to contact when you could. And you asked her to not worry, to concentrate on the Olympics and move on from you. You kept it to yourself that there was no way you were moving on from her.  You didn't know she was keeping the same thing to herself as she promised you she would try.

It was the weirdest break up anyone had ever had.

And, 17 months later, as you lay, trapped, entombed in your own coffin of ice,  you were sure that you could still feel the sway of that hammock, feel the heat of that Barcelona evening and hear the cicadas chirping. As the ice pressed all around you, all you could dream of was being back in that back yard in Barcelona, in the arms of Alexia.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Denali. Done. Vinson. Done.

Aconcagua, Kilimanjaro, Elbrus, Puncak Jaya . Done, Done, Done and Done. You’d faced the heat of Africa, the remoteness of Antarctica, the desolation of Russia. And here you were, finally, on your final summit. Everest. It was somewhat of a dichotomy between the mountaineering community. Everest had become a commercial hub. Have-a-go mountaineers paying big bucks to get a free ride to the highest mountain in the world. But to you, it had always been sacred. You had imagined it, as you climbed hills in the English lakes as a teenager, of one day scaling the iconic mountain. So, why? As you stood on the highest point of earth. After 3 months of acclimatisation. Were you thinking of your ex-girlfriend? Who were you kidding? You knew why. 

Alexia hadn’t been far from your thoughts on any of your summits. Her face popping into your mind at each peak. As you pocketed some rock as had become your tradition you would imagine her face as your hand touched the earth. The same earth she was on, thousands of miles away, probably in lush, manicured grass, kicking a ball around and entertaining thousands. Your group had become your family, and you had grown as close as one. Arguing when tensions got high but snuggling together to share warmth when in survival mode. Joking in bars across the globe and playing so many games of gin rummy that you sure a record had been broken. They teased you relentlessly for the old boots with silly laces you wore on the lower reaches of each summit, before you reached heights that you all had to wear mountaineering boots. Alexia, unknowingly, with you every step of the way. They had even made a game in each country you entered, to help you pick the rudest or funniest postcard to send to Barcelona, snippets of your time you sent to Alexia, keeping the promise you made over a year ago. You could have rang, you know you could. But you didn’t know if you heard her voice you wouldn’t high-tail it to Barcelona. So you sent postcards. It felt old-fashioned. It felt romantic. And you think that really, you liked that she couldn’t reply. It felt anonymous. You took off your snow goggles as you stood at the peak. You had 3 minutes on the highest point on earth without your goggles before you would become snow blind. The sun being about 60% stronger at this elevation. You could see the curvature of the earth.  It reminded you of the curvature of Alexia's shoulders as you held her from behind.

You took in a deep breath of thin air.

Your lung capacity feels like it has doubled since you left Europe.

You have done it. Without oxygen. 7 summits. Your life goal. Complete.

And now. You wanted to go home. 

“Congratulations English Sherpa! You have done it!” Arjan, clamps a heavily gloved hand on your shoulder, his wide smile visible even beneath his snood. Ice hanging from his moustache. He had to shout for you to hear him over the wind. He was a sherpa, he had travelled all around the world with you being one of the experts in the group, he’d affectionately nicknamed you the English Sherpa after he had seen your climbing prowess on your first summit. “We have done nothing yet, my friend. You know you’ve only climbed Everest once you get back down safely” you reply, glee in your voice, fixing your goggles back to your face. “Spoken like a true Sherpa.” he replied, and you both embraced at the top of the world. You didn’t hang around for long. Your entire expedition made it to the top of your final summit and you quickly pictured the moment before making your way down. The biggest risk on Everest is getting stuck in a crowd. It is not as technically difficult as other summits you have done. But without oxygen, a minute can feel like an hour on the highest point on earth. You heard once, it is easier to be saved from the surface of the moon than it is to be saved from the surface of Everest. Luck, however, seemed to be on your side. You had made good progress up, and were making even better progress down. With each step you became more and more gleeful, past 8,000 metres you started to finally feel safer. 7,000 metres, you let the excitement of your achievement settle into your bones. 6,000 metres you let your mind wander to finally going home but why was home seeming more like a sundrenched balcony in Barcelona rather than a green field of England? 5,000 metres, you promised yourself that you would use the satellite phone in your pocket to ring Alexia once you got back to base camp. Tell her you’d done it. Maybe even beg her forgiveness. You were alone on the mountain, ahead of most of your group and low enough now to be unattached to any guidelines, it was a usual affair.  Until it wasn’t.

You felt the ground rumble beneath you. It was barely noticeable. It felt more like the feeling you get when you’re lying in bed and a large truck drives past your house.

But it was enough to instil fear in you as you looked up and saw a wall of moving snow hurtling towards you. It was a slab avalanche, probably caused by the movement of the climbers above, and paired with the lateness of the day, the snow that had fallen and compacted overnight had melted enough to loosen into a wall of ice that was directed your way.

You had about 30 seconds.

You knew to go sideways, do not outrun an avalanche. It's like trying to outrun a cheetah. But this wall of ice looked wide, you ran to your side, moving slowly in the deep snow. As you ran you pulled your goggles back onto your face.

You could feel the earth beneath you falling away as the snow you trod on was unearthed by the vibrations of the snow above.

You ran. You ran for your life, but you knew this wasn’t good. Your training kicked in.

You saw a boulder in front of you and you threw yourself behind it, you created a ball with your body, making sure that you created a hole around your face you would be able to use to breathe. You pulled your ice pole from your back and stuck it into the ground next to you, that would help when you were covered by snow and you didn't know which way was up. Which way you would need to dig. You put one hand in your pocket and pulled the satellite phone in front of your face.

A thunderous rumble. 

And then. 

Silence. Darkness.  —----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alexia didn’t have her phone on at half time. She never paid it any attention - playing or not she was too focussed on the game.

Today, though, she didn’t know why. But she did.

She felt her phone vibrate in the bag at her feet.

And something compelled her to actually make the effort to dig into her bag and pull it out.

The number looked weird. Not a Spanish number, or an English one, she had gotten used to all the +44’s that had rang her over the year spent with you.

She stepped out of the unfamiliar changing room into the impressive corridors of Old Trafford. A post-season friendly. Barcelona Vs Manchester United. The game didn’t mean anything but it was always exciting to check another famous stadium off the list. A sold out crowd and an evening game. Can’t get much better.

She found a disused office room and managed to press accept on the call.

“Hola?”

At first she thought she’d missed it. Nothing on the line responded to her, as she pulled the phone away to check she saw the call had connected… ‘Scammers’ she cursed in her mind, moving to hang up. But just before she did…

“Hola, Ale.” She couldn’t believe it. Your voice. She dropped her weight onto the table behind her and held a hand to her chest that suddenly felt like it was torn in two. Heart beating faster than any 45 minutes of running could cause.

“¿eres realmente tú?”

“Yes, It’s me Ale.”

Tears brimmed in her eyes and even after everything she felt just the same as she did when she stepped out of that minibus nearly 3 years ago and first set eyes on you.

“Are you okay carino? Did you do it?”  she asked, breathlessly. “I did it, love.” was the response. In her pride at your accomplishment she missed how you hadn’t addressed her first question.

“Nunca tuve ninguna duda, I am so relieved to hear from you. The line is so quiet, are you still there?”

“Si…” a pause which Alexia attributes to the poor connection, “It must be the signal.” she notices you move on, quickly, “Can… can you just talk to me?”. Alexia smiles despite herself, you used to always ask her to talk you to sleep when your mind was whirring, completing your greatest accomplishment must be in that category and she can imagine you fidgeting in pent up adrenaline.

“I can amor, I have a few minutes. I am in Manchester. We are at half time at Old Trafford.”

“Old Trafford, hey?” she hears you laugh, “Finally, a football ground I’ve heard of.” She's missed your teasing lilt.

“Si, even you. It is raining. Why is it always raining here? I imagine you have better weather even at your camp.” Alexia jokes, innocently. The laugh you let out feels a little… forced? But she lets it go.

“I had lunch with your Mami today. We are only an hour or so away from yours, why did you never tell me we were so close?” Again, that laugh that she loves so much, but it felt more tired that she’d heard it before, more muffled. Though. She supposed, you must be exhausted.

“Because then, my love, you would have made us go and watch football matches and I much preferred to spend our time together in my bed.”

“Ah, Si, I remember, you did.” she responds, blushing and not missing a beat. 

“Your Mami is doing well. She is in the stands….” “Tell her I love her, Ale.” you cut in. There's a desperate edge to your voice that sends shivers down Alexia's spine. She stands, “I will. Of course I will. Carino, are you okay?” she realises now, you never answered her first question. “I stood on the top of Everest today, Ale.” you reply. You haven’t answered her question. She opens her mouth to ask it again but you continue, “I stood on the top of Everest and all I could think of was you.” Your words force her to sit again, her spare hand to her mouth, keeping in a muffled sob. “Don’t you think that's insane? That today, Ale. You were in Manchester and someone. On top of the world. The highest point on this Earth. The highest person on this planet. Only about 4 spacemen floating around above me. Had only you in their mind? I think that means you’ve been to the top of the world, Ale. En la cima del mundo conmigo. You were there with me, every step.” You sound drunk, she wouldn’t blame you, thin air for months it wouldn’t take more than half a pint to see you off, the thought of your ramblings makes her smile despite herself, she knows she shouldn’t, but she leans into it. “Everyone here talks like you….” she pauses, “In Manchester. Only me and Ona can understand them. With your flat vowels. It made me think of you more today. Miss you more than normal today. And now you call.” There's a knock on the office door, “Ale, Vamos!” half time has ended. She has never wanted to play football less than right now. “Because we’re soulmates” your voice definitely had a slur to it now, “and I miss you too. I’ll always miss you, my Ale.” you always got soppier when you drank. “You won’t miss me for long, Carino. You will be home soon. I don’t care if you decide that it's England or Spain. Whichever. I will be there. Si?... We will be together soon. We can sort all this out.” “Hopefully, n..to..oo soon.” she struggles to hear you, the connection starting to fail. “Pardon? Amor?” another knock at the door. She feels like she's being pulled in half as she presses the phone closer to her ear. “Amor. I have to go. Well done, Estoy tan orgullosa de ti. Call me when you can.” “I love you, Ale…” “I lo…” beep beep beep. The call drops before she has a chance to respond. —-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- You feel pain all over your body. You had never felt pain like it. It was like every sinew in your body was screaming out in pain. You opened your eyes and immediately closed them again. Blinding white. You heard voices. Alarmed voices. 

Shouting voices. “HERE, HERE!!!” You felt yourself being moved. It made the pain worse. You tried to tell them to stop. 

Your throat couldn't make a sound. And then all you knew was black. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- More darkness. You felt something covering your face. Your body being stripped. Water. Boiling water. It burned. You were submerged. “No no no no no no…” was all you could try to vocalise. A calming hand in your hair. “It is lukewarm water, we are trying to bring your body temperature up…” 

No, no. They were lying. The voice was lying. You thrashed. A pain in your arm. A needle? Darkness took you again. —--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “There is no chance, Arjan.” “Bu….” “No. You are an experienced Sherpa. You are letting yourself get lost. There is no chance. She is too far gone. Air evac is the only way. No Nepalese pilot will fly at this altitude. We need to make her comfortable…” —--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- You felt yourself being moved.

Less painful this time.

You felt wind on your face.

This wasn’t natural wind.

The sound of blades. Air moving unnaturally. Choppily.

Your face is covered again. 

The wind gets louder. More mechanical. You feel yourself being lifted up. “You’ve some friends in high places, English Sherpa.” you hear whispered to you, a hand on your forehead. Arjan? Your friend is speaking to you. You feel less alone. You try to open your eyes but the effort feels herculean. And then nothingness. —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This time, when you wake up. You stay awake. You’re in an unfamiliar room. It’s obvious it's a hospital room. But you’re alone. You look around and see yourself wired up to all sorts of machines. But that's it. You try to move to sit up but your shoulder screams in protest. You take stock of your body. You feel a bandage wrapped around your head. Your head is banging now you think about it. Your right arm is completely immobile. Your arm wrapped across your chest and hand completely covered by bandages. You try to wiggle your fingers but. Nothing. God. You hope they’re still there. Before you had too long to spiral the door burst open and you were faced with a smiling, familiar face. “Arjan!” you try to exclaim, voice rough from underuse. “She’s awake. My friend!” his sun-soaked face suits his smile. His bushy eyebrows make his eyes almost invisible as he crinkles them in joy. Arjan settles next to you and fills you in on everything you were present for, but missed out on account of being buried alive or completely unconscious. Your choice to hide behind the boulder had been the first thing to save your life. It had protected you from being swept away by the avalanche and was easier to locate. Before you had called Alexia you had contacted base camp. But your GPS had been knocked off so all they knew was that you were alive. And where you told them you had last been. You’d lost consciousness fairley quickly. Brain starved of oxygen in the small air pocket you had created. Hypothermia had set in slowly.

Your hand had been left exposed after using the phone, and you remember wiggling your fingers, seeing them slowly turn black as they succumbed to frostbite. It had taken 3 days to find you. Luckily, you had been the only person caught up in the snow. You remember, now, coming in and out of consciousness. You even recall a bad spell of seeing Alexias face in the boulder your head rested against and talking to it. Maybe you’d keep that you yourself. Bit embarrassing really. Your legs were pinned down by snow. You had used your last piece of strength to thrust your ice pole upwards. You'd chosen the direction based on the way your tears fell. That was the second thing that had saved your life. Arjan had spotted the pole in the ice field. Days after everyone else had given up on ever finding you. You’d been dragged to base camp and they started to treat hypothermia. You were more than halfway to dead. You resembled a corpse. Arjan had told you he'd never seen anyone literally blue. “Pulled it off tho, my friend” he’d tried to joke. “Of course, always” you’d winked back in reply. You'd have no chance of survival whilst still on the mountain. The air was still too thin and your were suffering from hypoxia. Problem was, the air was too thin for an air evacuation and. Well. As you knew. It was easier to be saved from the surface of the moon than it was to be saved from the surface of Everest. The third thing that had saved you. Was Alexia. “You have someone who’s gone to the moon and back for you, my friend.” Once she’d found out you had gone missing she had gone to the UK embassy in London to start a search and rescue campaign. When they hadn’t moved quickly enough she had involved the Spanish government. She’d used her resources and status to launch a media campaign which had pressured both governments. She’d flown to Kathmandu herself and was trying to hire a plane to Lukla when you’d been found. Then her attention turned to locating a pilot crazy enough to fly at such an altitude. Turns out anyone was crazy enough for the right price. And many, many euros later, the highest ever search flight took off from the surface of Everest, with you on board. “She’s a force to be reckoned with, your girl.”

He told you, as he reached to the ground below you, “...and you’ll be happy to hear, I saved your precious boots” he dumped your familiar old tattered boots at the bottom of your bed.

“And some stuff from your tent. But I had to hike it out so I left some of the smellier clothes.” he joked, as you thanked him, he really was a good man. “... Wait… hike it out? How long have I been here?” “You’ve been unconscious for a week my friend. I always told you you were lazy.” You took a moment to take stock. A week. Well. That meant that even if Alexia had been in Kathmandu, she was a million miles away now. The door opens again and you’re too lost in your own thoughts to give any care to the nurse whos been coming in every now and again checking charts whilst you and Arjan chatted. “Ah here she is. La Reina herself!” You turned your head quickly and took in the face that had been the last image in your mind every night, and the first every morning, since the day you had parted. “Ale…” you breathed. Here. She was here. In Kathmandu. In the same room as you. 

She looked as beautiful as ever, hair flowing over her shoulders, blonder than the last time you had seen her. She had gained muscle and her features had sharpened. But everything else was the same. Her smell invaded your senses. That smell that mosquitoes loved so much. You got it. Her eyes were sharp, and directed firmly at you. They looked tired. She held a sense of exhaustion. You wanted her to fall into your arms, but she stood at the door, and you couldn't open them to welcome her in. The moment was heavy and Arjan broke the silence and stood… “I’ll leave you both to it. See you around English Sherpa.” and with a squeeze of your foot he was gone. Leaving you both in a heavy silence. “Thank You Ale.” you said, breaking the silence.

After all Arjan told you, you owed her your life. She didn't respond. But her eyes had moved from your face and were now directed at the boots still on your bed. As battered as ever, Blaugrana laces snapped and re-tied in several places, swatch still visible on the tongue. Maybe you thought that your meeting would be a bit more romantic, not as…tense? She stroked one of the boots gently with her finger, seemingly lost in a trance. “Ale…?” “You have a habit of not telling me important things.” Whatever you expected it wasnt that. “Qué?” “That you speak Spanish, how you feel, I don’t know… that your trapped in a fucking avalanche.” you’d seen her angry before, you’d seen that anger directed at you, but this felt worse. It was directed through you. She kept her distance when all you wanted to do was hold her close. “How could you do that? How could you let us speak knowing that you were about to freeze to death and just chat to me, like it was a normal Sunday afternoon?” “I…I didn’t want to worry you…” you croaked out, you felt like a school child who was being told off by the head teacher. And you deserved it, you supposed. “I will always worry about you, por el amor de dios!!” She started to pace around the bottom of your bed, your eyes moving like they were taking in a tennis match watching her wear the ground down. “...and to think I finished that game. I slept that night at your flat. Happy, finally feeling like I almost had you back. Your mami took me home. And then, the next morning, I walked into the kitchen. And there she was, crying at the table. She could hardly tell me what had happened. And then it all fell into place. You’d called me when you thought you were already in your grave, didn’t you?” All you could do was nod, arms desperate to dry the tears tracking down her face. “I’m glad to see you.” you let out. Unsure of what else to say. “You won’t be. I am so, so angry at you.” “I know you are bu…” 

“No, you did your speaking on that Mountain. Now you listen” Her tears are dry now and the anger is back in her face. “I have sorted a medical flight. We leave tonight. We’re going back to Barcelona. I don’t care if you want to go back to that rainey island or not. It’s not your choice, it's mine. You almost froze to death, you need the sun. The warm. You will come with me every day to the doctors at the club. They will monitor you. Your family will come to visit. You will go to a therapist. You will take your medication. You will not ignore your medication because you think its better to treat yourself with whatever crushed bug or mashed-up leaves you think is better….” She stops for breath. “That was one time…” you mumbled, referring back to the time you insisted that a crushed cucumber was better than antiseptic cream to treat a bee sting. “Nope. You are still listening.” She stopped you, firmly again, but you felt her eyes softening as she took you in, “... and when we get home and you get better, we will talk. We will decide where we are building our life together, but that is one non-negotiable. It will be together. Okay?” She seems to be finished. And she's moved closer to you, close enough for you to reach out and grab her hand with your good one. You nod, and pull her hand to cup your face. “I just have one question.” you ask, seeking permission to speak. She nods as she strokes your face, tired and burnt from over-exposure. “Are these fingers still attached?” you ask, shaking your injured arm at her, “they’re kind of important for my plans, if you know what I mean” you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively. Her laugh makes you think maybe you did die on that mountain, because surely, here, with her, you’re in heaven. “Te amo, idiota” —-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You awoke surrounded by soft sheets and sleep-warm pillows. Your once-injured arm tweaked in pain slightly as you stretched out. You had physio later this afternoon, you thought to yourself, you had better mention it. You rolled out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen, still covered in blankets, bed hair resembling a yeti. You almost tripped up over your rucksack which was laying in the hall. Where it had been since your return to Barcelona, months ago. You hadn’t been ready to unpack it quite yet. You could hear Alexia on the phone out on the balcony, and you gestured the international, ‘want a drink’ sign to her, which she shook her head at. You shrugged. God, sometimes she was so Spanish. A good Brit would never let a hot kettle go to waste. It had been months of reconnection, Alexia finally letting go of her anger as soon as you entered the flat. She broke down in your arms that first night, simultaneously telling you how angry she was at you and how much she loved you at the same time. How she had never been as scared in her life. You just dealt with it by pressing kisses into her hairline.

She'd made you sit in the sun of the balcony every chance she got. Morning, Noon and Night. Moving you around to chase the rays. Insisting that you needed the warmth and vitamins of the sun to recover. The image of you pale, cold and frozen in the hospital in Nepal seared into her mind. When Mapi and Ingrid visited Mapi teased you, and had taken to calling you Bagheera. She said you resembled her cat, chasing the sun to lounge in at every occasion. She quickly stopped when Alexia slapped the back of her head. You no longer had to hide your relationship. Alexia had blown the doors off that as she went to the media in order to get the resources to save you. The feeling of claustrophobia that had made you flee from Barcelona had gone. You knew what being trapped really felt like now. And how you ever thought the love of your life and a shared life in this sun-drenched city was suffocating. Well. That was a different person to who you were now. Yeah, you would always love the outdoors. But you had an anchor now. Something that made you maybe not scale that next peak, and instead be excited to share a recipe with. Maybe not stay on the trail for an extra week, and instead pick out a good film to settle down to. Your mum was over the moon. She’d been a regular visitor. You thought she’d be upset, when you decided to stay in Spain instead of going back to England but she seemed offended by the idea. “That girl saved your life you stupid woman, of course will stay here with her.” Alexia didn’t accept it so easily. She was worried you would feel trapped again, that she wasn’t compromising. She would rather move with you than lose you. “Ale. Barna is your life.” you had replied, simply, “...and you are mine.” “It is not!” she had refused, aghast at the suggestion until you said, “United will have me, so will City, my agent has checked, I would even go to the Championship and play for Newcastle, I look great in black!” “Ale, you literally have a floor tile tattooed on your back. We’re staying here.” you said, deadpan. And she couldn’t say much to that. So, much to the despair of every football fan in England. She signed a new contract with Barcelona not two weeks ago. Maybe it was how settled you felt this morning, as the kettle boiled. The soreness in your muscles after the night you spent together in bed, which must be why your shoulder was straining now. Maybe you'd keep that away from the physio. Though, maybe he’d be happy to hear that your fingers were definitely fully recovered. Not as happy as Alexia was though, you'd bet. But something about this morning made you brave enough to finally open that rucksack in the hallway. As you zipped it open your fingers caught on a single piece of cardboard. A postcard. You flipped it over as arms encircled your waist and gentle lips kissed your shoulder. “Carino?” she asked, looking at the postcard in your hands. “I never got to give you this.” you whispered, as you held the postcard over your shoulder, she let you go as she turned it in her hands. She let out a barking laugh as she moved towards the fridge where 6 other postcards sat proudly, waiting for their 7th to complete the set. A woman in a bikini, sat on a yak wearing a cowboy hat, the imposing structure of Everest in the background. A speech bubble coming out of her mouth ‘I’ve seen bigger’. Alexia rolled her eyes at you as she stuck it to the fridge with a magnet showing the message you wrote all those months ago.

“Ale, I’m here. 

One more summit and I’ll be on my way back to you. For good. How can I say it in your language? ‘It’s coming home’. 

fin. 

[chrolloluvr]

💸 Ways Toxic!Mammon takes over your life as your controlling, doting boyfriend (pt.1?) 💸

Note: Female!Reader, AFAB (Whoever came up w/ voxtok shout out to you!!!), this also takes place before Fizz quit. Also not proofread!

Warnings: semi nsfw, cussing, manipulation, slut shaming, killing, dominance, toxic relationship goals!

Social media. As we all are aware, he has a huge influence online. He has millions and even billion of fans, which he can exploit and persuade very easily. He controls your accounts, people you follow, the things you post (if he even lets you post at all), etc. He controls all of your comments, and filters them. One time, your best friend had left a comment that said, "Damn girl, looking fine ASF", And he was fuming. He forbid you from ever seeing that 'friend' ever again.

You most likely have to make a secret account that you post on. And its very popular. It may consist of you talking about Mammons icks, dancing videos with him (you convinced him, because you told them they were privated.), which all most likely get millions of views. But lets hope Mammon does not find it, or else he will not be happy with you.

How you two as a couple are perceived. He cares alot about his public image. So he will pay out media outlets and news stations to percieve you, himself and your relationship in a good light. So lets say Mammon is getting "cancelled", (he never in a million years actually would, too many people look up to him and adore him.) for bringing supposed groupies backstage after an event he is hosting. Even if he actually did, he would pay the media huuuge amounts of money to get himself out of trouble. Same goes for you. Your poor choices reflect onto him as well, since you two are a very public couple.

Like I have said before in previous posts, you two are definitely the most watched, reported and popular couple in Hell. Sinners and native demons admire the dynamic between you two. So lets say you lash out at a fan for getting their camera too close to you? And then that fan posts footage on Voxtok or Sinstagram, you may get some backlash.

Lets be honest, Mammon probably wont jump to defend you unless it involves him in some way. If it does not involve him, he will block some people by logging into your account, (because he knows all of your passwords), but nothing more.

The clothes you wear. He buys you your clothes, so in his mind, he has every right to choose what goes on your body. If he sees you wearing something revealing, he will tell you 'you look like a slut babe. Where are you going, the fuckin' strip club?' He says shit like that even if your showing an inch of stomach. He for the most part wants you to wear things he chooses. He prefers if you two are matching all the time, but if you are just going out to get groceries, he likes when you wear oversized sweatshirts/hoodies, with leggings. I know its an oddly specific combo, but he thinks it doesn't show off any of your supple skin, and you look so appealing. Especially if its a brand Mammon owns. Mans will go feral. I feel like every time you leave the house with or without him, he will be sitting on the couch, saying 'C'mon, you know the drill cutie. show daddy what your gonna wear, yeah?'

He loves it when he sees you in a natural, underdressed state alone at home. His by far most treasured thing he likes to see on you, is you either in your bra and matching panties, or you in an oversized t shirt and panties with no bra. He especially likes those really dainty, "girly" colors and patterns. He likes seeing you dress feminine.

Calling him daddy. Yes you heard me. He has a huge power influx, and having you call him that fuels the fire in his ego. If its the morning, and you yawn and stretch out a tired, 'good mornin' daddy', he is hard. And this isn't even a fully sexual thing for him, since he isnt all that sexual extremely often. He just loves being called daddy. But if it were somebody else calling him that, they would get the death stare and an upset Mammon. But with you, he likes dominating you. So call him daddy. It will get him in a good mood, and If you want something from him? A daddy or two wont hurt.

Who you talk to. Once you two are together, he with subtly cut people out of your life that he thinks are a threat to your relationship. He will try to cut off any of your male friends or if you had any, your ex's. This sneaky man will probably send photos of you giving him head that he took without your permission. And he will never tell you he did that. Anyways, once he gets rid of all of these people, he will convince you that 'ohhh, princess, c'mon dont get your panties in a twist. Maybe they are just on vacation, you dont gotta act like a little whiny bitch-'. And by vacation, he means threatened, or killed.

He does not want you being influenced by anybody but himself. And especially not by any men. One of his many influx of issues is his jealousy/possession, (which I will get into on another post.) SO really the only other person besides himself that you can talk to are people he has met, and are proven to him to not uphold any power against him.

Meaning he will never let you meet Asmodeus. He is a horrible influence in his mind, and he does not was Ozzie to make you aware of his manipulation tactics. He may let you meet Beelz or Lucifer, but never Ozzie. He is the embodiment of lust, which is like toxic waste for your mind.

You bank account. If you need him to send funds, he will as long as you give him a little kiss on the cheek. But if you have been a bad girl, you might need to work for his money. If he is feeling particularly nice today, he will text you, sending a photo of the transfered funds he sent you, reading 25k+ sent. He loathes in the 'oh no you didn't have to Mamm' he gets from you, or the 'I feel bad, send it back!' Because in reality, he does not like to spend his money on anything useless. And to him, you aren't useless. So sharing some of his "hard earned" cash truly shows how he trusts and believes you wont go out on a limb for him.

And plus, now that your with him, he has taken all of your funds. He wont tell you that, even thought it didn't matter, considering how little you had compared to his trillion dollar net worth. So if you ever do stupidly decide to leave him, you wont be able to.

Puts a tracker on you, or has his goons follow you. This is another thing you are blissfully unaware of. He has an unreleased app on his phone, where he can see wherever you are at all times. While you were sleeping in your shared bedroom, he would put a tracker chip deep into you ear. So that he doesn't have to worry about his most prized possession running away when he isn't around. Or if he cant physically see you and he wants to? He has some loan sharks or his bodyguards follow you silently. I think awhile back, Mammon developed "Mammons Super Secret Spy Glasses", a product made for naive kids, and was released to the masses. But that transformed into an opportunity to exploit his goons into using them to spy on you. Do they want to creepily follow you? No. But can they refuse. Absolutely not. Nobody can refuse Mammon.

If somebody does take you somewhere, he will have his goons kill them, but come to the location and make it look like he killed them for your sake.

Controls where you can and cant go. He 100% does this. He wouldn't even let you in the vicinity of any kind of smoke shop, strip club, etc. He wants you to stay innocent, and naive for him. Meaning he will never let you in the lust ring, which alludes to the fact that him and Ozzie... aren't on the best terms per say. But will let you in any other ring under severe supervision. He cant have you doing any stupid shit to mess with his public image.

He wont even let you roam around in his own ring, because he is well aware of how dangerous it has become. He doesn't want his pretty little thing being kidnapped by some dirty, greasy men on the streets. But if you really want to go somewhere, he will let you go near there, but he will cover your eyes with his top two hands, and guide your waist with his bottom pair of hands somewhere he deems safe.

I also think he would follow you to the bathroom, and he would definitely offer to (does anyways) wipe for you.

How you act. Once you two are together, you will learn things the Mammon way. He will teach you how to become his esteemed future wife, and soon you might even have his kids (when he feels like babytrapping you, but that might be a later work.) He will teach you his version of manners, such as how to sit properly on his lap, teaching you how to french kiss (Which he assumes is your first time kissing somebody), How to sit still properly on his large cock, How to rock your hips just right-

He just wants you to be prepared for him. If he comes home at night, he expects the usual kiss on the cheek, asking him how his day was, and then the finale, which consists of your naked body and your legs being spread wider than his shit eating grin. He just wants to be ready to blow your back out, not having to worry about wasting time.

In the morning, he wants his breakfast served by none other than his obedient little princess. Then, he wants you to personally brush and floss his teeth. Then, he wants you to pick his outfit. (you will never truly get a say, he just wants to know from your perspective what makes him sexier.) And finally, the finishing act, holding your hair tightly into a makeshift ponytail, while he bobs your head up and down his cock.

Sexually frustrating you. After a while, you will miss his sexual touches. You will begin to crave them, as you will find yourself wanting him more and more. He is just so good at eating your pussy, and making you feel like your on cloud 9.

So don't be suprised if you find yourself humping his leg, as he bounces his thigh up and down to try and overstimulate you.

Makes you come to his shows. He will drag you to them. He does not care how tired you are, you will be there and sit pretty. He will let you in for free, but if you want a piece of merchandise, or some popcorn, he will make you pay. (even though its his money). When you first start dating, that is the case. But now that you two are officially an item? You sit up on the terrace with him in his webs. He has two of his left side arms wrapped around you, while he forces you to hand feed him.

And sometimes people catcall you from up above. One time, a couple dudes got drunk of Beelzejuice, and started berading you. By asking you to flash a peek of your tits, and show a little pussy. You were highly offended, but Mammon was not happy.

Those guys ended up in the E.R., but they would have died if it weren't for your expertise in calming Mammons temper. After that little incident, Mammon had later that day taken your ass on a one way ticket to pound town. So you can thank those guys, I guess...

Anyways, what if you need to use the bathroom during a show? He pauses the entire thing, because he wants you to watch how good of a planner and mastermind he is at pageants. Will literally wait outside of the bathroom door for you, and checks his watch if your taking "too long".

But anyways, he will also try to get you and Fizzarolli to be friends, since both of you are basically brainwashed by him.

The things you buy. He will not ever let you buy any cheap shit. Its a bad look on his behalf. So every time you two go out, you have to ask him if you can get something. If he deems it as "not doing anything for your look", he will make you put it back. And this goes for everything. Online orders, Voxtok shop (tiktok shop), etc. It always has to be approved by him.

Also, he will never let you buy any sex toys. He thinks his fingers, tongue and dick are more than plenty. If you ask him for any sex toys, he will call you an ungrateful little whore. So its best if you don't ask, unless you want Mammons over the top mumbling and grumbling.

Emotionally manipulating you. He will do this all the time. If he ever does something wrong, he will never admit to it. He will either never glaze over it, or will turn it on you somehow. It will start with his angry grunting, huffing, and puffing. If you ever ask him if he is ok, he will literally whip his head towards you and give you the most deadly glare you will ever see. His Aussie accent will come out very abruptly when he's mad.

Throw the worlds biggest temper tantrums. Sometimes you think hes a baby in an adult mans body. Some of his have gone on for days on end. He will pull every trick in the book. Whining and fake crying are things he has tried to use on you.

If he is really ruffled up, he will start yelling at you for no reason whatsoever. He just yells a bunch of belligerent bullshit, and does not give any reason why. Truly, the best thing to do to calm him down is spread your legs nice and wide, and let him lap at your cunt for hours. If he is 'borderline dangerous' mad, he will refuse to talk to you for a couple days. Even if you try, he wont budge. Deep down, he cares for you. And he knows that if he gives in, he might hurt you.

If he wants something from you, he will flash his infamous puppy dog eyes. (Bottom photo below), But if he is annoyed with you, he will make the deadly glare (Top photo below)

So, just try your best to keep him calm and happy. Even if that is through means you don think are necessary 💚

[perfectsunlight]

[37] HOME

warnings: none

ivory hadn’t been to her mother’s house in years. she’d only been on a few separate occasions, never spending the night or anything. that wasn’t allowed after jennie had moved out of jieun’s home. usually when she had to go to her mother’s house it was to pick up something for jieun or vice versa. sometimes her grandmother would leave things by accident, and would go with her to go pick it up after school.

looking back now, jane has reason to believe her grandmother did that on purpose so her mother could see her.

ivory’s eyes took in the space around her, a quiet sort of awe settling in her chest. the house was elegant but lived-in, warm in a way that surprised her. she had always imagined her mother’s home as something distant and impersonal, a place too pristine to truly belong to her. but standing here now, she realized how wrong she had been.

the scent was the first thing that hit her—a familiar mix of white florals and something undeniably her mother. it tugged at something deep in her memory, something she hadn’t let herself feel in years.

jennie walked ahead of her, carrying one of ivory’s bags effortlessly in one hand. "you hungry? i have that one brand of ramen you used to love." her tone was light, casual, as if this was something they did all the time.

jane hesitated in the doorway, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “you remember that?”

her mother glanced back, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. it was truly a wonderful gift as a mother to remember everything about the carbon copy of herself while watching her grow into someone entirely her own. “of course, i do,” jennie said simply, as if it had never been a question. “you went through a phase where it was all you wanted to eat. i used to sneak it to you when your grandmother wasn’t looking.”

ivory huffed softly at the faintest memory, shaking her head. “she hated me eating junk food.”

“she still does.” jennie chuckled, setting the bag down by the stairs before turning to look at her daughter properly. “but i figured, if you’re staying here, you should at least have something that feels like home.”

the words struck something deep in ivory’s chest. 

staying here. home. 

she swallowed, forcing herself to step further inside, eyes scanning the house—the high ceilings, the sleek furniture, the warmth in every carefully curated detail. it didn’t look exactly how she remembered it, but it still felt undeniably hers. like somewhere she could belong.

“where’s kuma?” ivory asked after she cleared her throat, trying to dispel the notion that this million dollar building was her home. her mother’s lips curled into a small smile at the mention of her beloved dog. “sleeping in my room, probably under the covers like he owns the place,” she said, shaking her head fondly. “he’s gotten lazier with age, but i think he’ll be happy to see you.”

ivory nodded, her fingers lightly grazing the edge of the marble countertop as she took in the house once more. it was strange—so much of it was unfamiliar, yet it still held remnants of something she couldn’t quite put into words. something that made her chest ache.

“you can go wake him up if you want,” jennie offered, watching her carefully. the taller girl hesitated before shaking her head. “no, let him sleep. i’ll see him later.” she cleared her throat again, trying to fill the quiet between them.

her mother returned to making the instant ramen, a quiet determination in the way she moved. ivory wasn’t sure why she was so focused—after all, it was just ramen. but the older woman handled it with the same careful attention she gave to everything else, as if even this small act needed to be done just right.

ivory shifted on her feet, glancing at the counter before hesitantly stepping closer. “do you, um, need help or something?” her mother glanced up in surprise, as if the offer had caught her off guard. “oh,” she said, then quickly shook her head. “no, it’s fine. it’s just ramen.”

jane awkwardly rested her hands on the counter. “right. just ramen.” silence stretched between them again, not quite heavy but noticeable. ivory watched as her mother poured hot water over the noodles, the steam curling into the air between them. she tapped her fingers against the marble, then, without thinking, reached for the seasoning packets.

jennie noticed but didn’t say anything. she just slid one of the bowls toward ivory, a silent invitation.

ivory carefully tore open the packet, shaking in the seasoning. “i think you forgot this.”

a ghost of a smile touched jennie’s lips. “i was getting to it.”

“uh-huh.” ivory stirred the noodles, the simple motion giving her something to focus on. she felt her mother’s eyes on her but didn’t look up. "you know, i’ve made this for you more times than i can count," her mother mused, her voice carrying a hint of nostalgia.

ivory glanced up, chopsticks hovering over the steaming bowl. "yeah?"

jennie just hummed, tilting her head slightly. "when you were little, you’d get these random cravings in the middle of the night. and of course, your grandmother didn’t want you eating instant ramen at the time, so i had to sneak it to you like it was some kind of contraband."

a small scoff left ivory’s lips as she twirled her noodles. "that sounds fake, but okay." her mother smirked, shaking her head. "it’s true. you’d shuffle into my room with your blanket wrapped around you and tell me you’re hungry and it would be like 3 in the morning."

ivory tried to suppress the small smile threatening to tug at her lips. "and you actually made it for me?"

"every single time." jennie reached for the pot and immediately blocked her daughter with her arm when she saw her daughter move. "ah, don’t touch that. it's hot."

ivory blinked at her slightly confused but deadpan. "mom, i’m eighteen." she said slowly, as if trying to remind the older woman. "and yet," jennie reminded, narrowing her eyes as she dramatically pushed her daughter back a step with her free hand, "you still somehow have the survival instincts of a toddler. just let me do it."

the taller girl groaned, throwing her head back in exasperation. "seriously?" the younger girl shook her head and leaned against the counter off to the side.

jennie ignored her dramatics as she carefully poured the steaming broth into their bowls. "see? if i let you do it, you’d probably burn yourself and then i’d have to explain to the entire world why my fully grown daughter can’t be trusted with boiling water."

ivory crossed her arms, unimpressed. "i can be trusted with boiling water." jennie simply shot her a look as she set the pot down. "weren’t you the one who grabbed a hot pan straight out of the oven once?"

a faint flush of embarrassment came onto her face but jane just clenched her jaw. she knew better than to argue against her mother with this, especially given her track record. she just huffed quietly and looked away.

her mother gave her a pointed look before sliding one of the bowls toward her. "exactly. now sit down and eat your noodles before you hurt yourself on those too."

ivory rolled her eyes but begrudgingly obeyed, grabbing her chopsticks. "unbelievable," she muttered, stabbing at the noodles but didn’t argue further. for a moment, they just simply ate in silence, the warmth of the broth filling the space between them. it was simple—just instant ramen—but somehow, in this quiet moment, it tasted like something more. like her childhood. 

soft. safe. simple.

then came the subject of sleeping. something ivory hadn’t necessarily worried about. from what she remembered, her mother had a guest room or two. she assumed she’d be staying there for the night, maybe for the next few days. it made sense, at least. the world was up in arms over them both, and she couldn’t exactly show her face anywhere for the time being.

“um,” jane cleared her throat as she set her utensils down, glancing at her mother. “can i shower? i’ll have to borrow some of your clothes. i don’t know if they’ll fit me though.” jennie let out a bark of amusement, looking at her daughter in incredulous curiosity. “why wouldn’t you fit in my clothes?”

the younger girl blinked at her mother, taking in the absurdity of the situation as if it was truly rocket science. "wait, what do you mean, ‘why wouldn’t i fit in your clothes’?" she asked, tilting her head slowly with furrowed brows of confusion. "you're the short one here."

jennie let out a small, disbelieving laugh, her eyes narrowing playfully. "short? you’re literally only like a centimeter taller than me. barely worth mentioning, sweetheart."

ivory’s jaw dropped open slightly, her cat-like eyes widening in shock. “no. it’s definitely more than that.” the taller girl said flatly. but her mother just raised an eyebrow, straightening her posture and tilting her head slightly to the side just like her daughter had.

“wanna bet?” 

the younger girl shook her head in amusement. “can i shower first and then we can measure it?” jane asked with a huff of indulgence as she moved away from the counter. her mother just chuckled, letting her daughter go. “fine, fine. go shower, baby. but don’t take forever. i’ve got a tape measure with your name on it.”

ivory shot her a look of feigned annoyance before disappearing down the hallway, and jennie returned to her bowl of ramen, suddenly feeling the weight of the moment. it had been so long since she’d had her daughter here, let alone like this—teasing her, laughing, talking like everything was normal.

a quiet thought crept into jennie’s mind. she hadn’t realized until this very second just how much she’d missed the sound of her daughter’s voice in this house. it was small, but it mattered.

she quickly shook off the sentimentality and went to clean up the table. as she put the dishes away, her eyes drifted toward the hall. then she saw those unmistakable eyes turning around to face her again from the hallway. ivory poked the inside of her cheek with her tongue, looking very shy for once.

“i don’t remember where anything is.” she said hesitantly, reminding the blackpink idol of just how much time her daughter had spent outside of this place. 

jennie let out a soft chuckle, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel before stepping toward her daughter. “right. let me show you.”

leading the way down the hall, she pushed open the door to her bedroom and beelined for the closet, sliding it open with practiced ease. inside, perfectly arranged clothes lined the racks, their organization betraying the habits of someone who lived alone and had too much time to curate every inch of her space.

ivory lingered near the doorway, arms loosely crossed, watching as her mother flipped through different sweatshirts with a focused expression, muttering under her breath like this was a high-stakes styling session.

"okay," jennie mused, plucking a hoodie from its hanger and turning, pressing it against her daughter's torso as if measuring it by sight. "this one’s big enough, i think."

a slow blink. "that’s a crop top on me."

she frowned, lifting the hem slightly, as if somehow stretching the fabric would change reality. “oh.” tossing it aside without hesitation, she grabbed another and repeated the process. "alright, this one, then."

ivory glanced down, then back up with a deadpan look. "that’s chanel."

jennie blinked in confusion. "and?" 

without missing a beat, the younger girl looked at her mother as if she’d just asked if the sky was blue. "you just asked me if i want to sleep in a chanel hoodie. me, a dior ambassador, in a chanel hoodie."

"would you prefer dior?" her mother asked sarcastically. but once again, ivory didn’t even hesitate. “yes actually, i would.”

silence followed. jennie gave a slow blink. then another.

the blackpink idol’s head tilted slightly, as if waiting for the punchline. but ivory just stood there, completely unfazed, holding the chanel hoodie like it personally offended her.

the older woman narrowed her eyes. "you’re joking." her daughter crossed her arms, looking ever so serious for an eighteen year old. "i’m not."

jennie scoffed, placing a hand on her hip. “excuse me?”

“you offered.”

“that was sarcasm.”

“well,” ivory shrugged, completely deadpan. “mine wasn’t.” jennie gasped, clutching the chanel hoodie to her chest as if shielding it from betrayal. “i raised you.”

“and you did a great job,” ivory said smoothly, then nodded toward the closet. “now, do you have any dior, or should i start making some calls?”

jennie let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh, tossing the hoodie onto her bed before pointing a stern finger at her daughter. "you are not calling dior for pajamas."

jane didn’t say anything but she heard her mother rumbling something about “disrespect in her own home” while storming back toward the closet. begrudgingly, she yanked out an oversized sweatshirt—the most brandless one she could find—and practically threw it at her daughter’s face.

"here. no labels. just fabric. happy now?"

the younger girl caught it with ease, holding it up to inspect it like she was checking for hidden chanel embroidery. with a thoughtful nod, she conceded, "acceptable."

jennie shot her an unimpressed look before spinning back toward the drawers for sweatpants. “unbelievable. my own daughter. a traitor.” she huffed, grabbing a pair and holding them up to her daughter's waist, eyes squinting in assessment. then she shook her head and grabbed another. then another. ivory stood there, arms flopped at her sides, letting her mother go full mom-mode as she sized her up like a store mannequin.

finally, after the fourth switch, jennie shoved a pair into her daughter's arms. "here. they should fit. but if they don’t, i don’t wanna hear it."

“you will hear it.”

jennie narrowed her eyes, a response already on the tip of her tongue. “and you will go to bed cold.” 

ivory just snorted, already walking towards her mother’s bathroom. "this is why i like dior."

jennie just threw a balled-up sock at her head.

“why do you have six different light switches and not one of them is for the actual bathroom?” jane’s voice echoed off the bathroom tiles, followed by a series of random clicks as she desperately tried to figure out which switch did what. the hallway light flicked on, then off. the closet light blinked twice. the fan whirred to life, then immediately stopped.

jennie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “it’s the second one from the left.”

a pause. more clicking.

“the other left.”

ivory groaned, but finally, the correct light turned on. "this is a design flaw," she muttered, stepping inside. her mother smirked a little, crossing her arms. “says the girl who can’t even figure out a light switch but somehow thinks she’s too good for chanel pajamas.”

the sound of running water was the only response she got.

jennie shook her head with a quiet chuckle, turning back toward her own room. she barely had a second of peace before ivory’s voice rang out again.

“wait, why is your shower so complicated?”

her mother let out an exasperated sigh, already making her way back to the bathroom like she had a toddler instead of an eighteen-year-old. “what are you talking about?”

“there are, like, four knobs in here.”

the older woman rolled her eyes lightly, leaning against the wall with her back while she listened to her daughter on the other side. “the left one is temperature, the right one is the pressure.”

“this seems unsafe. and very overcomplicated. is this what you do with your money?” 

jennie only smirked a little and pushed off the wall to leave her bedroom. “i’ll be downstairs for your official height measuring when you’re done.” she called out before leaving.

ivory finished rinsing off quickly, still grumbling to herself as she fumbled with the knobs again, making sure she wasn’t going to drown herself in another surprise burst of cold water. she stayed there for a little while, just allowing herself to exist under the warm water before she began cleaning herself off. with a final sigh of relief, she turned the water off, stepping out of the shower and wrapping herself in one of her mother’s oversized towels. she quickly dressed in the set of clothes her mother had given her, leaving her hair damp but feeling surprisingly refreshed.

she stepped out of the bathroom and toward the stairs when she heard a soft whimper, followed by the familiar sound of paws skittering across the floor.

ivory froze mid-step.

kuma.

she hadn’t seen the fluffy dog in ages. the brown pomeranian, now a little sluggish and slower in his movements, was sitting at the top of his mother’s bed. 

“hi kuma,” jane whispered softly, rubbing his ears and kissing his forehead lightly. he was her dog before he was her mother’s. she stayed there for a few moments, her hand gently resting on kuma’s soft fur as he snuggled into her touch. he tilted his head up toward her, his eyes blinking sleepily, recognizing her scent almost immediately—drenched in the fresh, lingering smell of her mother’s shower products, but still unmistakably her. his tail wagged slowly, a tired but unmistakable recognition flashing through his eyes.

“good boy,” ivory whispered softly, her voice low and warm as she ran her fingers through his thick, soft fur. she could feel the slight tremor in his old body as he nuzzled into her, seeking comfort. and she couldn’t help but smile at the affection in his eyes. she stayed by his side, sitting down gently beside him, leaning her back against the bed. a quiet sigh escaped her lips as she stroked kuma’s fur, and within minutes, the little pomeranian’s eyelids fluttered closed. his breathing slowed, the gentle rise and fall of his chest indicating that he had finally drifted back into sleep. ivory smiled softly, her heart tugging a little. 

there was something profound about the way kuma trusted her so easily, like no time had passed at all. she always loved that about him.

after a while, the young girl stood up slowly, carefully moving the small dog back down on the bed where he curled up in a tiny, warm ball. she kissed the top of his head one last time before quietly heading downstairs.

when she reached the bottom of the stairs, she hesitated for a moment, unsure if her mother was still in the kitchen. but as she turned the corner into the living room, she found her sitting on the couch on her laptop. jennie looked up as ivory entered, but it was in a way that made the younger girl pause.

for just a second, jennie looked at her daughter with something in her eyes that ivory couldn’t quite place. it was an expression that made her chest feel tight, but not in a bad way. jennie didn’t say anything at first, but her gaze softened as she took in her daughter standing in the doorway, a faint smile playing at her lips.

and in that moment, it was almost like looking into a mirror. 

jennie saw the same eyes, the same nose, the same smile that had once been so familiar to her. it was a bit surreal, how much ivory looked like her. but there was something else too, something she hadn’t realized until now: how she looked almost nothing like him. 

almost.

ivory still had his same moles, his same aura of quiet confidence, the kind that settled into a room rather than demanded attention. it was subtle, but jennie saw it now, the faintest remnants of him woven into her daughter’s features like threads she’d tried so hard to ignore. it was in the way ivory held herself, in the way she tilted her chin ever so slightly when she was thinking, in the way her eyes flickered with a sharpness that felt both foreign and familiar.

jennie hated it.

not because she hated her—never her—but because it reminded her of a past she had long since buried, one she had clawed her way out of only to be faced with it again in the form of her daughter. a daughter who had grown up without her. a daughter she could never fully claim as just hers, no matter how much she wanted to.

she exhaled, forcing the thoughts away before they could take root.

"you look just like me, you know," jennie murmured, her voice softer than usual, almost like she hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

ivory blinked, caught off guard by the comment. she hadn’t expected that. it wasn’t the first time she’d heard it—plenty of people had told her before. but somehow, hearing it from her mother, in this quiet moment, felt different.

“i’ve been told,” she said after a beat, her tone light, almost indifferent, like she was brushing it off. but the slight twitch in her fingers, the way her gaze flickered down for just a second before meeting jennie’s again—it gave her away. she wasn’t brushing it off. she was absorbing it, tucking the words somewhere deep where they wouldn’t easily be forgotten.

“can you measure me now so i can sleep?” the taller girl interrupted quietly, eager to not be stared at like an exhibit. jennie retrieved the tape measure from the counter, her fingers fidgeting with it nervously. 

wordlessly, jennie stepped closer, the tape measure unspooling in her hands with a faint whisper of fabric against metal. ivory stood still, shoulders slightly tense, as her mother reached up to press the edge of the tape against the top of her head.

"stand straight," jennie murmured, her voice quieter now, more focused.

"i am standing straight," ivory mumbled, though she subtly adjusted her posture, lifting her chin just a little.

jennie smirked, shaking her head, but didn’t say anything. instead, she placed a hand lightly on the top of her daughter's head to keep the tape steady. her touch was gentle but firm, like she was grounding ivory in place—not just physically, but in a way that neither of them could quite name.

for a moment, the only sound was the faint scratch of the measuring tape sliding between jennie’s fingers. ivory’s eyes darted away, suddenly hyper-aware of how close they were, how her mother’s gaze flickered between the tape and her face, studying her like she was something fragile.

“let’s see,” jennie said aloud, adjusting the tape slightly, before raising her eyebrows. “165 centimeters. so, you’ve got a whole two centimeters on me.”

her daughter’s lips twitched in a small, teasing smile. “good.” her mother stepped back, the tension between them lifting just a little. "you’ve grown," she murmured, her voice unexpectedly tender.

ivory didn’t respond right away, a slight discomfort settling in her chest. she could feel her mother’s eyes on her, studying her, and it was both too much and not enough. there were so many things she wanted to say, but she wasn’t sure how to begin.

all she did know was that she didn't want to deal with it right now. 

"well, i'm done now. can i go to bed?" ivory decided on, her tone a little more blunt than necessary. jennie smiled softly, though there was a touch of wistfulness in her gaze. "of course. 

“um,” the younger girl cleared her throat awkwardly. “where am i sleeping?” 

ever since her mother moved houses, she never thought she’d have the opportunity to stay over at jennie’s new house. let alone even have a space in it.

ivory had never really thought about it before—where she would sleep if she ever ended up here. it just never seemed like an option, like something she was supposed to consider. her mother had moved into this house long after they stopped living together, after things had settled into the rhythm of separate lives. and for some reason, ivory had just assumed there wouldn’t be a place for her here.

jennie’s expression shifted, something knowing flickering behind her eyes. she stood up from the couch, smoothing down her sweatshirt, and motioned for ivory to follow. “come on,” she said simply.

ivory hesitated for a second before trailing after her mother through the hallway. the house was quiet, the kind of late-night stillness that made everything feel heavier, like every sound or movement carried more weight.

jennie stopped in front of a door near the end of the hall, resting her hand on the doorknob. for a second, she just looked at it, exhaling softly before turning back to her daughter.

"you'll be in here."

the moment ivory stepped inside, and her breath caught in her throat. the room wasn’t just any guest room. 

it was hers.

she could tell immediately from the color scheme to the little personal touches that screamed familiarity. the bookshelf was stocked with books she had loved as a child, some she had long since forgotten. a plush couch sat by the window, draped with the blanket she used to carry around when she was younger. even the vanity had her favorite candle positioned neatly next to a few boxes of her favorite skincare brands, as if someone had been waiting for her to use them.

slowly, the taller girl turned around to face her mother. “you kept a room for me?”

jennie leaned against the doorway, her expression unreadable for a second before softening. “always.”

jane’s throat tightened, a maelstrom of emotions warring inside her. “but you had that rule,” she whispered, referencing the rule jennie had set when she was younger—the rule that said she couldn’t stay with her overnight, that she had to return to jieun’s house no matter what.

jennie nodded, stepping closer. “i did. and i hated it every single day. but just because i couldn’t have you here physically didn’t mean i wasn’t hoping for the day you’d walk through that door.” she paused, eyes flickering around the room before settling back on her daughter. “so i kept it ready for you. in case you ever needed to come home.”

home.

it wasn’t a word ivory had ever associated with this house. not even once. but now, standing in the doorway of this room—her room—she couldn’t deny the way the air shifted around her, settling heavy in her chest, thick with something unspoken.

her fingers curled slightly at her sides, nails pressing into her palms as she took another step into the room. it felt untouched yet lived-in, like time had been waiting for her to fill the space. she traced the edge of the desk, eyes catching on the faint scratches along the wood—marks left behind by restless hands, old notebooks, or maybe nothing at all. but it felt like hers. it felt kept.

jennie watched her quietly, her presence lingering near the door but not intruding. she had always been like this, even when ivory was little—close enough to catch her if she fell but never forcing her to take the step.

ivory turned back, gripping the hem of her sweater between her fingers. “why?” her voice wasn’t accusatory, just quiet. curious.

her mother’s lips parted slightly before she exhaled, her gaze flickering to the bookshelf, to the neatly folded blanket, to the little things she had never been able to let go of. “because you were always supposed to have a place here,” she said finally. “even when i couldn’t have you the way i wanted.”

the admission sat heavy between them, unspoken things threading through the spaces in jennie’s voice.

ivory swallowed, her throat dry. the years between them stretched long, filled with days where she had wondered, did she even want me there? she had told herself she was fine without the answer. she had convinced herself it didn’t matter.

but it did.

she shifted, glancing toward the bed. the comforter was tucked in the way she liked—smooth, precise, but not too stiff—just the way she used to fix it when she was younger. the pillows were fluffed to the perfect degree of overstuffed, the kind she could sink into after a long day. it was almost unsettling how well her mother had remembered the details, how effortlessly she had preserved something ivory didn’t even know still existed.

her gaze flickered toward the couch, where a familiar blanket lay draped over the armrest. the second she picked it up, her fingers brushing against the worn fabric, the scent hit her—something warm, something familiar. a mix of faint detergent, a trace of something floral, and a whisper of her past itself. it smelled like childhood. like late nights curled up on the couch, like small hands gripping the edges while she fought off sleep waiting for her mother to come home late at night.

her chest ached. a slow, creeping kind of feeling that settled in her ribs, spreading through her like a quiet realization she wasn’t quite ready to name.

jennie must have noticed the shift in her expression because she took a careful step forward, her voice softer than before. “valentine—”

“i’m tired,” the younger girl murmured, cutting her off. the words weren’t sharp, but they left no room for anything more. not tonight.

jennie stilled, eyes lingering on her as if she wanted to say something else. to explain. to reach out. but she didn’t. instead, she nodded, stepping back with quiet understanding.

“alright,” she said gently. “get some rest.”

ivory didn’t watch her leave, didn’t wait for the door to click shut before she sat down on the bed, the blanket still clutched in her hands. the room felt heavy—not suffocating, but full. full of things unsaid, full of time lost and time kept, full of something that made her throat tighten and her fingers grip the fabric just a little harder.

she wasn’t sure what to do with all of this; the room, the words, the weight in her chest.

but for the first time in her life, home didn’t feel like a foreign concept.

previous | masterlist | next

TAGLIST ⸺ ✶ @silantryoo @imahallucination11 @jisooftme @yerimbrit @linnnsworld @edeivveiss @urmom2314 @aespasoooool @mygfiswonyoung @yeetaberry127 @@sixflame438 @yourmyst4r @shegoswhoree @saysirhc @hwm1hyun @literallybipanic @yejiscene @gayforalll @yvsvrn @bunnywonyo @karifrogs @thefckghost @yoontoonwhs @pandafuriosa60 @somedaydream @hotluvlet @pagedpick7 @lizseos @cy8erpunkz @keiji-jin @lizseos @xszn @awkwardtoafault @hellokiraa @chicopichu @chocolatestrawberrykryptonite @lesbian4themis @literallybipanic @tjdc25 @st4r4ngel @jihyos-hoe @jxmis @phamianaz

CLOSED.

[theemporium]

hi!! i have a potential blurb request - Oscar having that "oh my god i love her" moment with reader

ily and i hope you're doing well <33

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

It hit him at the most random, mundane moment—which was ironic, considering it completely turned his world around.

He was still fighting the lingering effects of jet lag when you invited him over to hang out. He knew Mark would have wanted him to be responsible, to sleep and not fuck up his sleep schedule any further. He was still getting used to how taxing the life of a Formula One driver was, and he underestimated how heavily travel and jet lag would play into that.

But it had been so long since he had seen you. And maybe it was guilt or maybe it was his own selfish desire, but he found himself throwing on a hoodie and sweatpants, grabbing his keys and heading to your place before the universe somehow stopped him. 

It was no different to the million other days you hung out together. Absolutely nothing different that he had come to expect in the last fifteen or so years you two had been friends. He showed up, knocked four times, waited for you to open the door and settled himself on his side of your coach whilst you did the same.

There was nothing special about the day, or the moment. But it still hit him like a freight train.

“Do you want popcorn? I got the salty flavour from that brand you like, the one that fits into your diet.” 

That was all you said. Twenty-one words that somehow managed to send the boy spiralling as he turned to gape at you, his body melted into the couch to the point he didn’t think he could get up if he tried. 

And there was you, sitting there as you smiled and waited for his response. You didn’t even look different, just lounging around in some shorts and a hoodie with his number on it. Your hair was a mess, you had even made a joke about it when he first came in. And the bags under your eyes told him your sleep schedule was probably as shit as his was right now, probably from staying up to watch the races. 

But, fuck, Oscar thought you looked so pretty. 

You had always looked pretty to him, but this was something else. This was a whole new level. This wasn’t just an appreciation of your looks, this was a full kick to the chest that screamed ‘oh shit, this isn’t platonic’. You just looked so cosy and comfortable and domestic, and Oscar could almost let himself imagine that this was a sight he got to see every day, that he got to wake up to, that he spent forever with. 

Because Oscar Piastri was in love with his best friend and he hadn’t even realised until now, until this very fucking moment. 

“Do you not want popcorn?” You asked, creases forming between your brows as you furrowed them together. He had the strongest urge to smooth the spot with his thumb.

“Uh no, yeah,” he cleared his throat and gave you a sleepy, slightly strained smile. “Popcorn sounds good.”

Your face brightened. “Good, I was gonna make it anyways.”

He watched as you stood from the couch, making your way towards your kitchen. He watched you walk away as his heart pounded in his chest, as he pressed the heel of his palm against his ribs like that would calm him down. He watched as you rambled on, oblivious to the existential crisis your best friend was experiencing. 

There was a voice in the back of his head telling him he should say something, that he should tell you how he feels. You two don’t lie to each other, or hold back on anything. He knew he should have told you. But that selfish desire returned and Oscar had the strongest urge to keep his mouth shut for one more night, to enjoy the rush of feelings overwhelming him until he had to tell you.

He couldn’t imagine a life without you, so he let himself have tonight just on the off chance his feelings were the start of the end of your friendship, just in case he lost you forever.

.

[justatalkingface]

If society is the reason for the personality of Bakugo, why aren't there more Bakugos in society?

If "strong" quirks turn people into violent a**holes, why aren't Nejire, Tokoyami, Kaminari, and that loud wind quirk guy relatively well-adjusted to social interaction.

The answer is simple: because it isn't society's fault.

Like, don't get me wrong, it didn't help, that's for sure, but Bakugou's problem isn't society, it's that he's a jerk. Bakugou is unironically high on his own brand.

Part of that is how other people treated him, true (though it was happening even before he had a Quirk, so it's not society in the way it's usually used for Bakugou, where it's about his Quirk), because he was cool and competent as a kid, which made the kids praise him, which fed his ego, which made him want to do it more, in a vicious cycle... but even with that, there's still something unique to him that is at fault here: he's told, as a kid, that he has a good Quirk, and he can be a hero with it. This is basic, bog standard encouragement; it's a good Quirk, but he's, what, ten? That woman is probably telling every single kid that their Quirk is great. But Bakugou, though, he hears this, and his mind instantly snaps to a conclusion: he realizes that he's The Best, TM. That he's special, that he's better than everyone else. And that? That's not 'society', that's not the fault of people around him, that's Bakugou's fault, Bakugou's problem.

I'll be honest here, kids are stupid; Bakugou isn't the first kid to have a delusion of grandeur and he's not going to be the last. What makes it different with him, though, is that it's more than just a passing phase. That philosophy, his fundamental superiority, is a train of thought that remains with him for the rest of his life, and not only that, it is a cancerous logic that festers in his mind like a disease.

You know how Bakugou calls everyone else 'Extras'? That's the logical conclusion of his superiority complex, of the idea of that he alone is special, superior, the honored one: because if he's special, what is everyone else? Less then him. An extra in his story. Or, as Shigaraki would put it?

An NPC.

That's concerning. More than that, that is deeply alarming. Unironically, I think that counts as a mental disorder of some form (probably narcissism?), and it also inherently dehumanizes other people... which explains why he's so casual about hurting everyone around them.

And to be blunt? That's a very, very bad thing. Dehumanizing other people is how people are taught that it's OK to hurt others, or even kill them; fundamentally, Bakugou is radicalizing himself against everyone who isn't Bakugou.

If they are less than him, if they are not 'real people', if they are just extras... then it doesn't matter if he hurts them, insults them, because... why would it? It's not like they're actually people, it's not like they're important. They're just extras in The Great Story Of Bakugou. They're just NPCs in the Hero Game he's playing, and nothing else.

People do horrible, horrible things to NPCs in video games that they would never in a million years do to people in real life. They do it because NPCs don't matter, not like real human beings do. Think, for a minute, how you treat the random characters in Fallout or whatever, the nameless mooks you that will always more of, because they will always respawn after whatever you do to them. Think about what would happen if you did that to a real person.

You can even see it in how he acts in the various flashbacks back when he was a child: when he was young, Bakugou was brash, a bit aggressive, but largely an OK kid. But as time passed, his aggression grew, and his respect for others shrunk. He went from insulting people (at times probably accidentally), to actively bullying them. He became more and more comfortable not just verbally abusing others, but then physically hurting them. By the time canon starts, Bakugou seemed to treat, and consider, other human beings as barely more than trash, and Izuku's existence in particular as something like a cosmic mistake he was 'graciously' tolerating.

And then we find out that he was willing, in fact, to kill people. It's very likely that, if driven to a corner, that people may be willing to kill to survive, but that isn't what happened to Bakugou: he was in school. He was unironically playing cops and robbers.

And yet, Izuku's basic unwillingness to just... give up, to just sit back and let someone maim him as much as he wanted is what 'cornered' Bakugou to the point he resorted to overwhelmingly lethal force. He doesn't feel an ounce of guilt about it afterwords, either, and he only stops because he's threatened... with being kicked out of the exercise. He's not even serious about, he's willing to kill someone but he values winning more than his murder attempt, winning at something that's essentially worthless, even. It's an impulse, one that he doesn't ever question or think about again after the fact.

To be fair, his... radicalization, or just plain assholishness, got noticeably cut back after that point (to the point where it seems more like retcon than character development), but if it wasn't for that? Clearly, no one was willing to call him on things before, so if he didn't get serious consequences, and he had killed Izuku? He probably would have grown more and more comfortable with killing, the same way he did with everything else he's done.

But it's more than just that. His parents are... well, they're good people, but... they don't seem to be the best at making their son not be an asshat; both of them were pretty OK with their son calling his mother a 'hag', and not even in a sarcastic, well meaning way, but as an actual insult.

His mom is cut from the same cloth as her son (normally, it'd be the other way around, but Bakugou's character probably came first), if more restrained. Unfortunately, that means she's probably a source of a lot of his more aggressive behaviors in the first place, and not just in a genetic way: he watched what she did, and then learned to do it from her. She tries to get him to stop the worst of it but she doesn't seem to making a serious effort? It's not a serious punishment, or a heart to heart talk about his behavior, it's... basiclly the fan gag, which doesn't really teach anyone anything?

His dad, meanwhile is more passive, grounded, but at the same time: he married Bakugou's mother. He's clearly OK with behavior in that vein. It's good he's not contributing to the problem, but he's not solving it, either.

At the end of the day, while there are contributing factors, not of them are enough to explain, much less justify, Bakugou's actions or personality. Society didn't make him like this. No one taught him that it was OK.

The only one with responsibility was Bakugou himself.

[kings-highway]

do you have any umbrella headcanons for the hq characters? like, colors and patterns and where they bought it, who has a million umbrellas but never seems to remember to bring one when it rains, who always keeps one at school, etc. that kinda stuff?

This is actually a way old prompt I simply took forever to answer but like... Yeah I gotchu.

Sugawara: never in his life has owned an umbrella. Bitch is WET half the time. Sprints between cars. Sneaks under other people’s and gets runoff dribbled on his head. Complains constantly about the rain. Could not tell you the last time he opened an umbrella

Asahi: opened an umbrella inside once and is still anxious about it

Daichi: has an umbrella and behaves normally about it. The sight of Asahi panicking because he forgot to bring one and Suga preparing to rawdog the weather is offset by Daichi standing between them and opening his umbrella without any fanfare and then seeming surprised by the chaos that his two friends have unleashed in the .3 seconds since it started raining. It’s probably a solid colour and at least 3 years old.

Tanaka: kinda like Suga but completely intentionally. “Umbrellas are for wimps!” he shouts, soaked and freezing and about to be very sick

Noya: shockingly, actually pretty good about keeping an umbrella around. He probably got one in middle school with like flames on it, and so he makes sure to carry it during the rainy seasons because it’s his only chance to show it off. Also whips it out at every opportunity to offer to walk girls home if they’ve forgotten theirs.

Ennoshita: forgot his umbrella once during a rainstorm and Daichi gave him his to walk home with “because your walk is further than mine anyway” and Ennoshita has never forgiven himself for it. The man keeps an umbrella in his school locker separate from the one he carries to and from home just in case. Dude got given a new flavour of imposter syndrome over the generosity of one guy a year ago.

Yamaguchi: has one of those clear umbrellas. Constantly offering to share umbrellas with tsukki but alas Tsukishima is taller than him so this makes no sense, and Tsukki has never in his life not had an umbrella on him. Often he ends up sharing his umbrella with Hinata instead.

Hinata: theoretically owns an umbrella, he says he does. Ends up ducking under Yamaguchi’s constantly, since he “doesn’t exactly know where his is” at the moment. Can’t figure out why Yamaguchi always seems annoyed by him asking to share his umbrella.

Tsukishima: a well prepared young lad, has had the same umbrella since middle school, it probably has like a moon pattern on it because the bitch likes to brand himself. Is currently trying to decide if he should fake forgetting his umbrella one of these days because it would probably make Yamaguchi happy.

Kageyama: will just walk home in the rain and not notice he’s soaking wet. Honestly I can imagine him shaking himself out like a dog. He once gave an umbrella to a girl and she fell in love with him and confessed on the next valentine's day and he had no idea who she was.

Yachi: got to share Kiyoko's umbrella once and has never been the same since. Her own umbrella is probably very cutsey and pink with stars or something.

Kiyoko: keeps a spare umbrella in her locker in case she forgets because boys become unbearable if they think they can offer to be her saviour. Refuses them and walks in the rain if necessary.

Oikawa: honestly he’s probably a very sensible regular guy who checks the weather and brings an umbrella if he thinks it’s needed, but he probably always has to borrow one from his mother or dig one out of the back of a closet.

Iwa: weirdly thinks that Oikawa is never going to have an umbrella, so he always over prepares, but Oikawa has literally never once been caught in the rain without an umbrella and for whatever reason simply cannot convince Iwa that he knows how to check his weather app. Like it’ll start raining and Iwa will scoff and go “bet you didn’t bring an umbrella, huh?” as Oikawa is pulling out and opening his umbrella and will be like: “????? leave me alone????”

Matsukawa: kinda likes the rain. Sometimes the rest of the Seijoh 4 catch him holding his umbrella to the side to let himself get rained on. Honestly I can see him with like… a kinda gothic umbrella, like probably something really dark with skulls on it, or a spider web pattern, and he unironically really loves it. It’s like an element of self expression that the rest of these jock boys cannot comprehend so they don’t even bother making fun of him for it.

Hanamaki: 9/10 the person who gets Iwa’s second umbrella

Kyotani: would rather die than admit he was cold and/or needed an umbrella after his mother definitely yelled at him to take one that morning and he ignored her

Yahaba: sometimes weaponizes his umbrella to whack people. He’d also use it to flirt with girls who forgot theirs, except one time a girl saw him using it to whack his teammates and rumours spread so now nobody accepts his offers.

Ushijima: okay hot take: I don’t think he owns an umbrella. Live-in dorms aren't conducive to an umbrella, what, he’s gonna open it for the 1 second he’s between buildings? Nah. but I think he’s got sort of a weird dog energy about it, where he’ll be soaked through from walking in the rain, but will in fact have walked instead of running, and will just kind of sit there and let water drip onto his face and honestly I don’t think this is a very fun experience for him but what’s he gonna do, complain about the weather? There’s no point in complaining about the weather, it can't be changed.

Tendou: I can imagine him with - and I’m aware this is very specific - a clean umbrella, with like colourful polka dot confetti. I take no criticisms. He also happily allows any of his teammates to walk under this umbrella if they need to, however this is a trap and they will, actually, have to listen to the entire plot of FullMetal Alchemist in excruciating detail.

Leon: give him a regular ass solid colour umbrella that he loses constantly. It’s the dorms thing! He doesn’t have to use it often! But any time he needs it it takes him 35 minutes to dig up.

Semi: he is like… cool with an umbrella. Like he’s not really actually stopping himself from getting rained on, because it’s tilted back against his shoulder and he’s sauntering along getting soaked, but my god does he look good. Also I imagine his umbrella being striped white and black. But oh boy is he always wet despite having an umbrella.

Goshiki: has an umbrella but stopped using it because he thought the thing Ushijima was doing was some kind of cool-mature-adult thing and now he’s just wet all the time.

Yamagata: will ask if people dare him to run through the rain and then not wait for an answer and do it anyways. Could have an umbrella, maybe he doesn’t, has never been seen using it either way. At least he has fun.

Shirabu: constantly trying to get Semi to use his umbrella normal. Constantly trying to get Leon to put his umbrella in the same place. Constantly trying to convince ushijima to buy an umbrella. Constantly trying to convince goshiki to use his umbrella again and that being wet isn’t cool. Has no idea what the hell yamagata is doing. constantly, desperately, avoiding situations in which he needs to walk under Tendou’s umbrella. Always wondering why the fuck the Shiratorizawa team is so goddamn wet all the time. His umbrella is pink.

Taichi: owns an umbrella. Thinks Shirabu needs to calm the fuck down.

Aone: shares umbrellas constantly with people. He has a really simple one, but he’s really consistent about remembering it, so often he’s the go-to saviour.

Futakuchi: Usually forgets his umbrella and is very thankful Aone never has. Is usually the second person under Aone’s umbrella.

Moniwa: carries two umbrellas around anticipating someone else needing them and will end up giving both of them away and walking home in the rain.

Koganegawa: excitedly walking in the rain beside Moniwa bonding over their wet heads. (he thinks he forgot his umbrella but it’s actually just pushed at the bottom of his bag. He will notice when he gets home and feel SO BAD he didn’t offer it to Moniwa.

Terushima: thinks umbrellas are for wimps and dorks and is always wet. He won't even walk under an umbrella someone else is offering.

Kuroo: black umbrella. Honestly I don’t think he’s very interesting about it. He doesn’t like getting rained on so he tends to be cautious and over prepare.

Kenma: always carries an umbrella if there’s even the slightest chance of it raining. Hates getting rained on. Hates sharing an umbrella with kuroo even more than he hates getting rained on. (Kuroo acts like he’s gods’ gift to umbrellas every time Kenma needs him to share.)

Fukunaga: rainbow umbrella!!! He likes to play in the rain and will get wet even holding an umbrella around his head. Jumping in puddles, splashing. One time he got soaked by a passing car driving through a puddle and has never laughed that hard in his life. This cat likes water.

Tora: usually ends up using Fukunaga’s rainbow umbrella because he forgot his own and fukunaga clearly doesn’t need it.

Lev: “hahaha yeah I have an umbrella…” (he doesn’t) and nobody will share with him. Kuroo just sort of side-eyes him. Yaku walks with an umbrella and doesn’t even pretend to offer. Lev gets wet.

Yaku: I imagine him with like a beige umbrella. He’s super normal about it. Never shares, though (hurts his arm to hold it up so much, but refuses to let someone else hold it for him.)

Inuoka: doesn’t have an umbrella, doesn’t need one. He’s always using his hood as if it’s just as good and saying how it’s redundant to carry around an umbrella even though this soaks his jacket every time.

Bokuto: I think he only owns an umbrella if he can find an owl themed umbrella, otherwise he’s just sorta running and hoping he doesn’t get too wet. (he does.)

Akaashi: if Bokuto has successfully found an owl themed umbrella, Akaashi owns one too. Otherwise, he’s got a very normal solid colour umbrella that he has never used for himself once. Bokuto, Konoha, Sarukai, whoever has forgotten their umbrella currently has Akaashi’s umbrella.

Kita: I think he has a white umbrella, and I think it’s very normally employed in the manner it should be, and I think he’s most often seen using it when he’s gazing off wistfully and making long, contemplative monologues about how rain is often run from despite it being the very essence of life, and how the water cycle heals and washes away bad energy and the state of pollution in the oceans and dear fucking god someone distract him throw a volleyball or something it’s been eighteen minutes he’s still talking.

Aran: I imagine him with one of the like, real fancy umbrellas with a wooden handle and all that (every other mentioned umbrella I was thinking of as a cheap plastic one that pops out) but no this bitch got a real umbrella, probably old from his grandmother or something. He’s also the only one still listening after minute eighteen of Kita’s contemplation on our connection to the divine via the endless cycle of water through our bodies. He’s gonna google the water cycle when he gets home.

Atsumu & Osamu: there is in fact an umbrella between the two of them. It will break before the end of their rainy walk home. They both think it’s their own umbrella, but it’s not, it’s their mother’s umbrella and she will yell at them.

Suna: this guy would rather sleep at school than walk home without an umbrella so you bet your ass that he keeps an umbrella on him. Give him something with a cool geometric design maybe. I also think the only moments of sincerity anyone’s every seen from him is when he’s very quietly and politely asking Kita or Aran to borrow their umbrella if he’s forgotten his.

Sakusa: Yes, he has an umbrella, of course he has an umbrella. I think his umbrella is bright purple, and I think he keeps forgetting how to open it, and then it pops out and scares him and this happens every fucking time. Something’s wrong with this guy. He can also never get it tied up again properly and generally tends to find the thing a hassle.

Komori: Also has a bright purple umbrella but he opens it normally. He has no idea what Sakusa’s problem is.

Korai: has Hirugami’s umbrella from last year.

Hirugami: is just realizing the reason he needed to buy a new umbrella.

[kooldewd123]

in the midst of all the mrbeast drama, the part of his history I find myself drawn the most back to is, of all things, the pewdiepie vs t-series rivalry. that was such a pivotal moment to youtube culture. there was something there that truly felt important to a lot of people. pewds was just a Guy. a creator, like so many others from his generation of youtubers, who simply put a camera in his bedroom one day and decided to upload it onto the internet. when he became the most-subscribed youtuber, he won that title from people like smosh, ray william johnson, nigahiga, and others who, like him, were in it for fun, not fame. despite his many flaws and controversies, he became a symbol of what youtube (or even online content in general) meant for a lot people. and so to see his five-year reign as king finally threatened not by a fellow Guy in a Bedroom, but by a Company??? that was an affront to the soul of youtube, the soul of the internet.

unfortunately, the writing was on the wall as soon as t-series landed on people's radars. with the rapid growth t-series was showing and the ever-changing landscape of online video as a whole, it was clear there was no stopping them from surpassing pewdiepie eventually. the opposition that arose from their arrival was never a true attempt at holding the crown, but rather a rallying cry of the creator-driven internet showing that they still mattered, that they would still push back against these companies invading their space. and out of this pushback, perhaps the strongest voice was mrbeast. while the other big names gave shoutouts to pewdiepie and maybe made a video or two about their thoughts, mrbeast made it a core part of his identity for a while. he would plug pewdiepie at every opportunity, funnel as many of his viewers towards pewds as he could, and even brought it into the real world by putting up billboards promoting him. i think it's probably fair to say that he was the single most vocal supporter of pewds.

which makes it weird to say that in the battle between pewdiepie and t-series, mrbeast came out as the ultimate winner. sure, t-series reached that holy 100 million subscriber milestone before pewdiepie did, but pewdiepie's hype man somehow managed to catapult himself ahead of both of them and reach the top with 328 million subscribers at time of writing. which, okay, maybe seems like a happy ending on the surface? one Guy in a Bedroom reaches the top, gets overthrown by a Company, and then a different Guy in a Bedroom makes it back on top. all's well that ends well. except the mrbeast making waves today isn't exactly a Guy in a Bedroom anymore. mrbeast is a chocolate company, a burger chain, an entire media enterprise. the mrbeast channel itself has become almost secondary, merely an advertisement to bring kids into the mrbeast brand. the mrbeast that dominates the youtube home page today has become an unholy conglomeration of what both pewdiepie and t-series represented: a Company wearing a Guy's face, something that presents itself with a friendly, familiar persona while using that perception to influence consumers into feeding into it. the mrbeast of 2024 is an even more insidious version of the sort of channel that the mrbeast of 2018 was fighting against.

and it makes me wonder: did mrbeast ever truly believe in the message of the pewdiepie/t-series rivalry, or was his goal simply to ride pewds's coattails into fame? it's clear looking back that unlike most of pewds's other cohorts, fame has always been mrbeast's ultimate goal. he's been chasing trends and doing stunt videos for basically as long as his channel has existed, and for years before he actually began to gain traction. was his "subscribe to pewdiepie" campaign just another wave of trendy views for him to ride? i couldn't tell you. personally, i want to believe that he did value the spirit of creation at at least some point in his career. i don't think you can post videos online for twelve whole years without finding at least some satisfaction in the creation process. but that just makes the current state of his channel even sadder. truthfully, even despite all the exploitation, the disregard for others' wellbeing, the covering up of shady behavior, and whatever other horrible things he's done, i pity him. when pewdiepie was king of youtube, so was felix kjellberg. pewdiepie the persona and felix the man had a mutualistic relationship. each one built the other up. but jimmy donaldson? jimmy donaldson is a sacrificial lamb laid at the altar of mrbeast. it's easy to make fun of his dead smile and overly forced enthusiasm, but when you hear him talk about his life behind the scenes, it's no wonder he turned into this. he's constantly forcing himself into work. he barely allows himself any downtime. he scraps entire highly-expensive videos because he doesn't think they're good enough. jimmy is destroying himself to keep mrbeast alive. he needs to keep up this persona day in and day out, never settling for anything less than perfection lest the fickle gods of SEO cause one of his videos to underperform by even a hair. in a time of heightened mental health awareness, we are watching the biggest online influencer ever reach record levels of burnout in real time. he is a living monument to both the personal dangers of online influencers and the societal dangers of capitalism. and all we can do is watch as the hole he's dug himself into grows deeper and deeper.

[un1ver53]

Stream with me? - DUKE DENNIS ONESHOT

Fluff 💗

1400+ words

I don’t think the title really goes with the story but whatevs 😭😭

This is my first ever one shot so pls be nice 😞💗, I would love feedback tho!!

•••••••

Scrolling through the never-ending posts on TikTok, your attention span decreases every second, and your mind starts to wander off, wondering what your boyfriend of three years was doing. As if the universe was listening, a notification pops up at the top of your phone, notifying you that Duke on Twitch started to stream. A smile displays on your face and you start to watch his stream.

"Wassup my n***as, how are yall?" (I've never watched any of his streams before, so sorry if it's completely wrong 🥲) Duke says smiling at all the viewers flooding in commenting greetings back to him.

• • •

You continue to watch him for a while watching him laugh along with the viewers and his friends, reacting to random songs and videos. He then reads a comment that one of his fans wrote;

“ ‘Is Y/N joining the stream?’ Y/N ain’t at the crib right now n***gas, she was doing some photoshoots, and bruh they take long as hell, so she probably crashed at her place and is taking a long fat ass nap,” Duke replies smiling mentioning you, showing his 15k grills off.

His fans knew about you ever since Kai accidentally revealed to his stream that you and Duke were dating a few months in the relationship.

Flashback

Duke was in Kai’s room streaming with Kai on his friend's Twitch. They were playing games that their fans had suggested but Duke began to get distracted by his phone pinging with messages from you, asking when he was going to be done so he could go upstairs and cuddle. The fans noticed the taller one was distracted and heard his phone, so they did what fans do best and began to troll and joke around asking him to tell his girl they said hi etc.

Kai was oblivious that the chat was joking and that they didn’t know whether his best friend had a girl or not and asked “Wait they know? When did you tell them you were dating Y/N?”

Duke was shocked that his 5’7 friend just outed him like that and he pushed him lightly shouting “N***A THEY DIDN’T KNOW!”

You, Y/N Y/L/N the highest-paid model, who is known for her struts on the Victoria's Secret Runways. You work with lots of big and bougie brands, such as Gucci, Hermes etc.

You’ve been friends with Kai for a long time now, and he even introduced you to Duke which kindled the relationship you now have with the 6’6 giant, and you could never stop being grateful.

They both began to laugh uncontrollably knowing that Kai was going to get a scolding from you after the stream ended. After a few minutes, they calmed down and remained composure, Duke began to answer a few of the million questions he was being asked.

“ ‘How long have you guys been fuckin?’ Nahhh you n***gas are weird bruh,” he replied laughing.

“ ‘Is it THE Y/N??’ Uhmmm bro I don’t know,” he says laughing but then Kai confirms it, “YES IT THEEE Y/N, he’s the rizzler god but bruh how did n***ga pull THE Y/N!”

Duke laughs loudly and pushes Kai off his chair but also somewhat agrees. He didn’t know how he pulled you, but he is making sure that he keeps you forever as his.

After the stream, Duke makes his way up to his bedroom to find you and Kai is following him. Duke finds you and lets Kai in the room so he can apologise.

“Y/N I’m sorry I accidentally outed you and Duke on the stream today,” Kai says looking down and apologising.

“Don’t worry Kai I was watching the stream when you did it, but you made up for yourself because of the comment you made about how you didn’t know how Duke pulled me,” You say giggling and getting up to hug him before walking up to Duke.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and you both leaned in, connecting your lips. Duke tried to deepen the kiss, but you remembered that Kai was in the room so you separated from him and gave him a peck on the cheek.

“So what should we do baby?” You asked Duke looking up at him.

He smiled at the cute face he was in love with, “We don’t need to do anything but since it’s out then we should probably formally announce that we are dating on our Instagrams, and maybe you can hop on a stream with me?”

I agree and we both do it with Kai’s input, as he outed us so he might as well help us with the rest. After the announcement, fans began to flood the comment sections with both love and hate but you didn’t care, you only needed Duke and he only needed you. After the Instagram posts, you went on a stream with Duke answering fans' questions and they began to love you even more, where sometimes they would just ask for you to come on the stream as he opened the live-up.

Flashback ended

Duke messages you asking if you are up and want to go and stay the night at his. You quickly replied and accepted the offer. You look over at his stream and you can see him smiling to himself from your message which makes you giggle to yourself knowing that he still smiles and gets happy that you stay over at his.

Once you get to the infamous AMP mansion, you unlock the door with the key that Duke gave you, since he and even the rest of the AMP trusts you to have and keep. You go upstairs to his bedroom and knock then open the door to him streaming to millions of his fans. He quickly notices that it’s you and gets up not caring about the stream and hugs you, grabbing your ass as his lips connect to yours making you groan. He begins to deepen the kiss forgetting that his fans all over the world could see his back towards them but know that you both are possibly exchanging saliva. A loud AI voice speaks out from a fan donating 5 dollars and comments speaking out “Damn Duke I didn’t know you did it like dat”

That comment makes you disconnect your lips quickly and laugh. Duke takes your bag and puts it on the bed before he sits on his gaming chair and then lets you sit on his lap. He wraps his hands around your waist holding you tight making sure you are comfortable.

“You wanna stream with me?” He whispers in your ear but you’re sure his fans could still hear his deep voice.

Blushing, your mind wandered off to how he whispered different things in your ear last weekend.

You begin to read off comments and then see his viewer count drastically increase from 1.3 million to 5 million. You gasp showing Duke and he chuckles lowly “Damn mamas I should have you on my stream more since n***gas only come to see you.”

You blush and read off a comment that says ‘When is Y/N going to make her own Twitch?’

“I don’t think I’ll ever start streaming on my own, but I will continue to bombard Duke’s streams now and then,” I reply smiling up at the camera and Duke.

“Mamas I mean if you start a Twitch, it’ll probably go viral overnight I mean look at all the n***gas that came just because you popped in,” Duke says slowly rubbing your thigh as he gives you eye contact. You smile and wrap your arm around the back of his neck so you’re side-hugging him.

You read another comment which says ‘So when is the proposal happening?’

You chuckle and then look at your man, “Yeah baby! When are you putting a rock on my hand?”

He smiled brightly, his grills shining in the light, “Oh mamas just you wait and see,”

You immediately start giggling and blushing, hiding your face in the crook of his tatted neck. He chuckles finding you the cutest and he smiles to himself knowing that his future wife is sitting on his lap right now.

After an hour of streaming together, Duke ends the stream and lifts you taking you to his bed. He lays down next to you, admiring your face which millions all over the world wish they had. He smiles and brings you closer to him, putting his hand on the back of your neck, and passionately kissing your lips deeply. You then disconnect to gather some air and lay on top of him. He starts to play with your soft hair, “Mamas I’m definitely marrying you and giving you all my kids,”

“I would love that,” You smile blushing.

•••

[mylanguage13]

Week 6: Mending Over Buying

If you told your grandparents that mending clothes is now considered a “climate-positive action,” they’d probably laugh. Back in the day, fixing up torn clothes wasn’t some bold environmental statement; it was just common sense. Clothes were expensive, and people made them last. Every household had a sewing kit, often stored in an old cookie tin on top of a cupboard. Mending was simply a necessity.

Fast Fashion: Cheap, Trendy, and Designed to Fall Apart

Fast forward to today, and things have completely flipped. Thanks to fast fashion, clothes have never been cheaper or more disposable. Why bother sewing a ripped shirt when you can replace it for the price of a cup of coffee? Fashion brands flood stores with trendy, poorly made clothes, designed to fall apart quickly so you’ll keep buying more (Bau 2017). As a result, the fashion industry generates more than 92 million tons of waste each year, while clothing production consumes approximately 79 trillion liters of water (Niinimäki et al. 2020). The industry create new styles at a ridiculous pace, encouraging us to constantly refresh our wardrobes and throw out the “old” stuff (even if it’s only been worn a few times).

Fast Fashion’s Biggest Scam: Making Us Stop Caring

But here’s the real problem: fast fashion hasn’t just made clothes disposable, it’s made our connection to them disposable too. Most of us have no idea how our clothes are made, who makes them, or what it takes to create a single garment. More disturbingly, we don’t care. When something tears or wears out, we don’t think about fixing it because we’ve been trained to see it as replaceable. And that’s exactly how fashion brands want it. This mindset comes from advertising that promotes the idea that new is always better than old (Bau 2017). The less we care, the more we consume.

As The Guardian puts it, our disconnect from the things we own has left many of us feeling alienated. Karl Marx once said that for work to be fulfilling, it has to be meaningful, honest, and effective. The same goes for the things we own (Martin 2021). When we replace well-made, personal belongings with mass-produced junk, we lose our sense of connection to the things around us. We don’t see clothes as valuable anymore, just as stuff to cycle through. It’s all about chasing the next trend and never actually be satisfied with what we already have.

Mending is a Quiet Rebellion

Mending is a quiet act of rebellion against all of this. It’s a way of saying, "No, I don’t need to keep buying just because a brand told me to." When you repair your clothes, you’re taking control. You’re refusing to throw something away just because a tiny rip appeared. And honestly? Mended clothes look cool. Visible stitches, patches, and embroidery make each piece unique; something mass production can’t replicate (Jones & Girouard 2021). It’s not just about making clothes last longer; it’s about rejecting the idea that you need to buy new things all the time to feel stylish.

The fashion industry thrives on making us feel like we’re always behind, always needing more (Williams 2022). But what if we stopped playing along? Mending is not only about sustainability but also about taking back power from an industry that survives by making us feel inadequate.

So grab a needle. Repair the damage; not just to your clothes, but to the way we see fashion itself.

References

Bau, M 2017, Fast fashion and disposable item culture: The drivers and the effects on end consumers and environment, 5 May, Helsinki Metropolia University of Applied Sciences.

Jones, L & Girouard, A 2021, ‘Patching Textiles’, Creativity and Cognition.

Martin, M 2021, Mend your clothes and do yourself some good, the Guardian.

Niinimäki, K, Peters, G, Dahlbo, H, Perry, P, Rissanen, T & Gwilt, A 2020, ‘The Environmental Price of Fast Fashion’, Nature Reviews Earth & Environment, vol. 1, no. 4, pp. 189–200.

Williams, E 2022, ‘Appalling or Advantageous? Exploring the Impacts of Fast Fashion from Environmental, Social, and Economic Perspectives’, Journal for Global Business and Community, vol. 13, no. 1.

[toyourstations]

I need every nerd to get on the xbox boycott train with me because the more pressure we apply, the sooner microsoft takes action to address their complicity in the Palestinian Genocide and the sooner they do that the sooner i can not feel sick about wanting to play minecraft*

*obviously me playing minecraft is much much less important than the lives of Palestinians, which is why I'm not doing it right now. As part of the boycott. But damn if I don't wanna play minecraft.

But seriously. The more traction this builds, the more effective it'll be. I highly encourage you to bring it to the attention of your fave minecrafters, your friends you play with, whoever.

Some Minecraft influencers literally make a living off Minecraft. I'm not going to begrudge them, especially those who are disabled or otherwise disadvantaged, their money. However, if anyone is in a position to maybe stream other games or take a break from Minecraft content, that'll be a big deal. Imagine if Minecrafters with millions of subscribers joined this boycott. What impact could we have then?

Also explicitly called out in this boycott are Candy Crush and Call Of Duty, as well as subsidiary companies Blizzard, Bethesda, and Activision.

Many of the priority targets of BDS have been on big ticket items like computers or shoes. Not buying a Dell or HP computer isn't a big ask for a lot of people. If you felt like you couldn't really participate in those boycotts, here. You can do this one.

Actionable steps that don't cost money:

cancel game pass if you have it.

Don't use your xbox console if you have one.

Uninstall COD, Candy Crush, and/or Minecraft.

Let people know you're doing this, and give them the links to learn more.

Ask your favourite minecrafter if they're considering joining the boycott.

Sign this petition about the incident that kicked off this boycott and learn about the unjust firing of Abdo Mohamed and Hossam Nasr from Microsoft.

I've seen a lot of people talk about "well I already own Minecraft and have for years so it doesn't matter if I play because I'm not giving Microsoft money".

Player retention matters a lot in live service games. With the Minecraft movie just released they'll be expecting a spike in players, not a drop. Furthermore, if everyone I saw say "It won't make a difference if I don't take part" did take part, it might make a difference.

If you're a bedrock player (console, etc), there are microtransactions available in game. Not playing means not even seeing those, or the brand tie-ins they include. A drop in bedrock players will reduce the amount of brands paying to put their content in bedrock.

I personally was quite torn about joining this boycott because Minecraft is practically a part of my personality these days. It's a special interest for me, and it's something i spend probably 10-20 hours playing each week, without exaggerating. I've decided that therefore i'm going to do my damndest to make sure this boycott succeeds and can end. Because playing while the boycott is ongoing just isn't something I feel right doing, even though a part of me is genuinely itching to play.

[vettelsdarling]

can you do an Instagram au with Charles x female tech CEO? (Like they're trying to keep it private.)

Thank you xx

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐜𝐲

Lissie note... This was a great idea, I loved the CEO aspect, but couldn’t quite find the right pictures and timeline things couldn’t match up for something as grand as a tech CEO, but I really enjoyed writing this prompt and scouring Pinterest for fitting photos to use. Hope you enjoy anyway!!❤️

Few things to note:

Reader is from a rich and esteemed family, but she’s self made

Reader lives in Monaco

Reader is the CEO of a world renowned luxury brand based in Monaco

Charles and reader have been dating for a few years (Since reader’s college years and Charles’ early f1 years)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x CEO!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Slight cursing(?)

Playlist recommendation: 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟💗

Taglist: @allwaysalleyway

yourusername

Liked by blakelively, carmenmmundt, francisca.cgomes and 1,378,831 others

Tagged: voguemagazine

yourusername Thank you, @ voguemagazine. I had a lot of fun with this shoot and the interview— happy to do it again next year❤️

View all comments

user1 I literally GASP every time I see those interviews with her. How is anyone THAT gorgeous????

user2 I love her sm and she cares for women and the sick😭😭😭

user3 She’s so amazing, honestly

user4 Honestly the price of her brand is reasonable when you know a lot of the proceeds go to helping people in need❤️

user5 Hi gorgeous, tysm for the work you do❤️

user6 Did anyone notice Kika and Carmen👀 (f1 fans pls interact)

user7 I NOTICED IT TOO

user8 I’m an f1 fan but I genuinely don’t think this is anything big..? Probably just a coincidence that they both follow her. She’s literally got millions of followers so…

user9 @ user8 but didn’t you see how Giada and Isa also follow her?

user8 @ user9 Like I said, coincidence. I mean they’re all pretty big into fashion, no?

charles_leclerc

Liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, and 937,284 others

charles_leclerc Blazer goes perfectly with my jewelry.

View all comments

user1 AHHH BLESSED MY FEED❤️❤️❤️

user2 I LOVE that blazer on him ughhh🙏

user3 Anyone know the brand?

user4 It looks a lot like @ yourbrandname and their newest collection

user3 How did I not notice thisssss

user5 Love that he’s supporting yourbrandname❤️❤️❤️

user6 He’s literally so dreamy wtaffff

user7 Right???😩

yourusername and francisca.cgomes

Liked by francisca.cgomes, pierregasly, lilymhe and 1,682,104 others

yourusername So gorgeous in the 4th picture, we should do this more often. Make it a tradition whenever you stop by Monaco🤍

View all comments

francisca.cgomes You flatter me too much, 2nd picture is obviously the best🫶

yourusername Debatable…

lilymhe I’m joining next time

yourusername Yes.

user1 Okay, I refuse to believe she doesn’t have anything to do with F1

user2 Ngl I’m speculating😭

user3 New wag alert???

user4 AHHH I SEE THAT FERRARI…

user5 Ferrari + Kika, a wag = she’s a wag???

user6 You guys are so quick to jump to conclusions lmao

user7 @ user6 It’s not “jumping to conclusions”. It’s literally so obvious…

user6 @ user7 But it isn’t though… a lot of rich people own a Ferrari. She also just happens to be friends with Kika. Doesn’t mean she’s automatically a wag…

user8 Another post where she’s SERVING

user9 She’s so ldr coded❤️

user10 I absolutely agree with both of those statements you guys

user11 Since WHEN was she hanging out with wags???

user12 Since you learned to mind your own business..?

f1gossipcentral

26,732 likes

f1gossipcentral Lord Perceval said it! He’s in a relationship! Wonder who it is👀

View all comments

user1 I mean, if he hasn’t revealed the wag, he obviously doesn’t want to share who it is…

user2 and all the 13 yr olds are pressed because he wants to keep his privacy💀

user1 Literally

user3 I mean, I heard a lot of people think that it’s @ yourusername

user4 Just because he wore a blazer from her line..? Doesn’t make sense…

user3 No, she’s been hanging out with Kika and owns a Ferrari too. Also- lot of wags and drivers follow her.

user4 Wow, okay. Didn’t know this..

realtalkcelebs

56,287 likes

realtalkcelebs SPOTTED: Y/n L/n leaving the interview where she reported that “she’s currently in a relationship”. She’s yet to reveal who it is!

View all comments

user1 NOOOO I HAD MY WEDDING DRESS PICKED OUT

user2 I’ve never read anything as soul crushing as this.

user3 Okay but WHO STOLE HER

user4 Whoever won her over better count their days.

user5 I’m here to assist😭

user6 Ig I’ll be having my salty tears for dinner tn

user7 me too.

user8 Who in their right mind would steal a national treasure like this?

user9 I think there’s been some talk in the F1 community…

user10 The timing of things is really suspicious ngl.

user11 I suspected she may be a wag, but Charles was unexpected

user12 Ever thought that it might not be him?

charles_leclerc

Liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55, yourusername and 873,283 others

charles_leclerc It’s time for Monaco. My beloved home❤️🤍

View all comments

user1 Hope this year is THE year

user2 Fingers crossed😭

user3 Oh no, not the Monaco curse pls😭

user4 I have a feeling he’ll do well🙏

user5 Don’t jinx it omg

user6 I love how we’re all collectively worried about this specific gp

user7 Is nobody noticing a certain CEO in the likes?

user8 Atp I don’t really care too much because it’s their life and they chose to be private about it. They may not even have anything to do with each other.

user9 I agree, everything so far is all superficial in terms of proof…

user10 Yeah, leave these people alone and stop shipping random celebrities together. It’s weird.

user11 Ughhh going to the Monaco gp is not a want. IT IS A NEED.

user12 Relatable

yourusername

Liked by francisca.cgomes, lilymhe, bellahadid and 1,362,102 others

Tagged: francisca.cgomes

yourusername Couldn’t miss the Monaco GP, when I live here?! Fourth picture is a Kika appreciation moment❤️

View all comments

francisca.cgomes Best photographer I’ve ever met❤️

yourusername Okay but you made my back look so great in the first picture

francisca.cgomes No, that’s all you

lilymhe Finally seeing you in the paddock

yourusername I know, it took a whileee

user1 Yep, I’m convinced she’s a wag.

user2 I reckon she might just be one of those celebs who attend the most famous races. We didn’t see her in the paddock before?

user3 I would honestly agree if she hadn’t posted abt something Ferrari related so much lately.

user4 Guys let’s let her live her life whoever she feels😭😭😭

user5 She’s honestly so amazing. I love her😭 She’s wearing her own line too😭❤️ Bless her.

user6 Why wouldn’t she wear her own line lmao💀

user7 I love her friendship with Kika🙏

user8 She’s a multitasker. CEO of one of the most well known luxury brands, best friends with several wags, maybe even a wag herself— AND HAIR CARE??? Drop the secret pls🙏🙏

user9 She’s a literal goddess

realtalkcelebs

163,373 likes

realtalkcelebs SPOTTED: Heartthrob Ferrari driver, Charles Leclerc, kissing the young and flavorful CEO of yourbrandname, Y/n L/n. How long has this been going on for? You tell us.

View all comments

user1 Um what😃

user2 I KNEW IT

user3 Since when😭😭😭

user4 WHAT IS GOING ONNN?!??

user5 Idk but I want to cry💀

user6 In retrospect, I can see the proof now, but wow they were actually pretty great at hiding it wtf

user7 Right? I did not expect this…

user8 Yeah, and then you just see these entitled gossip accounts profiting off of them… I feel bad for them :/

user7 I do too. I don’t think it’s fair for them to be revealed like this… they should’ve gotten their own chance to explain things

user9 Okay but he’s so lucky😭

user10 Literally. He’s dating the most relevant woman on this planet rn

user11 Googling how to become a Ferrari F1 driver rn

charles_leclerc and yourusername

Liked by francisca.cgomes, yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 537,733 others

charles_leclerc .

Comments have been limited

francisca.cgomes Love you guys, stay strong❤️

pierregasly This was not deserved. Hope you guys are okay

maxverstappen1 The paparazzi is always so shitty like this.

lewishamilton This was unexpected, but shouldn’t have come from anyone but you guys. Real shame they did this to you.

lilymhe This is just not okay!!

carmenmmundt Shame on the paparazzi.

yourusername

Liked by francisca.cgomes, charles_leclerc, carmenmmundt and 937,295,173 others

yourusername Some pictures from our trip to Paris❤️ Taken by us.

View all comments

charles_leclerc❤️

Liked by yourusername

user1 I love their relationship, actually

user2 Honestly, as much as I’m IN LOVE with her, I’m so happy for them

user3 My parasocial relationship is crumbling, but this is so cute😭

user4 I am living for the caption😭😭😭

user5 It’s literally like a big “fuck you” to the paparazzi lmao

user4 Exactly💀

user6 SHE’S WEARING ALL OF THE NEW YOURNAMEBRAND CONCEPT DESIGN DRESSES😩❤️

user7 He’s wearing the new concept design pants😭

user8 He gets early access to all the good stuff😭💀

user9 I still can’t believe they managed to hide it for so long

user10 For real. I’m still processing it..

charles_leclerc

Liked by yourusername, francisca.cgomes, pierregasly and 647,383 others

charles_leclerc Sleeping beauty❤️ Happy anniversary❤️

View all comments

yourusername I did not know this photo existed, but I love you, so I’ll let it slide❤️

Liked by charles_leclerc

francisca.cgomes Gorgeous even when you’re asleep?! @ yourusername

yourusername You flatter me too much🫶

user1 They are really made for each other

user2 The picture😭😭😭 He rly loves her

user3 If this isn’t my relationship in the future, I don’t want it

user4 WHY AM I SO JEALOUSSS

user5 Don’t worry, you’re not the only one😭

user6 I get it, I’m extremely single.

user7 Pain😭

user8 Honestly such a lovely couple🤍

user9 I love this dynamic so much. It’s just so sweet🙏

user10 They’re both so luckyyyy

*I’m just experimenting with some layout changes. Feel free to give me input on what you think!

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻...

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩! (𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙣, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨, 𝙙𝙢𝙨, 𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙨: 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧(𝙨) 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚(𝙨) 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣.)

[bloodchapell]

second hangout - armin a.

brief summary: what if the “there is only one bed” moment happened at the library? you arrange a second hangout for you and armin to actually read nightfall. you go to eat after.

what to expect: alt and very nerdy reader, equally nerdy armin, mutual pinning, light physical touch

your sword’s note: armin is so cute u canttt. all past and future parts of this au series available in my mistresslist

That ring was on Armin’s finger every second of the day.

<Hey do you happen to know what material the ring is made of? I don’t want it to get damaged.> armin 👼🏼 01:03 am

<its silver! u can wash your hands with it on> you 01:03 am

<also are u free to go read tmr? lmk 🩵> you 01:04 am

<Yes!> armin 👼🏼 01:04 am

The blonde paced around his room. He could hear Eren curse at the TV in the living room, probably playing some games.

“Eren, what does light blue heart emoji mean?” Kind of socially ineptly Armin asked with his arms crossed.

“It means light blue heart emoji.” Eren replied. “Did you finally fry your brain? Am I the alpha brother now?”

“You are weird.” Armin frowned at his friend and sat besides him, unlocking his phone and showing the text in his screen.

“That just means she is excited to see you again you dumb fuck… I am sorry alpha brother I didn’t mean to be offensive in any way shape or form.” Eren blurted out. “All you need to do now is ask her out, start dating, marry and eventually have kids.”

“That is a little precipitated… and I am not asking her out, she will reject me.”

“Why would she reject you, she said you were the existential to her absurd or something, she gave you a ring literally, she also used light blue heart emoji which means I love your baby blue eyes beautiful.” Eren reassured his friend but Armin did not believe him at all. You would “never like him, in a million years”.

Eren simply gave a look to Armin, from what he had told him, it was kind of evident that you had a thing for Armin, but he was completely convinced that someone like you –whatever that meant– would never like someone like him –again, whatever that meant–. He just regarded you as a superior being, for some reason you two were in different categories even though he knew that intellectually you were kind of equals.

Next day came quickly, he got ready and was waiting for the time to leave when it suddenly started raining. Still he took an umbrella and a jacket and walked to the library. “Hiiii Armin!” You waved at the entrance, luckily you were close by when it started raining so you took cover under the entrance. “Hii.” He said with a soft smile, a little more comfortable but not completely. “I brought the book.” He showed from under his sweater and a smile formed in your lips.

Walking into the library you both realized that everyone was taking cover from the rain there, and that there were little to no seats available.

Except from…

“There!” You pointed throwing the book at the sofa from Armin’s hands to prevent other person from seating there. “Do you mind seating together? I think we fit.”

His cheeks got pale pink blushed. He looked at the gap in the sofa doubting he would fit, at least not without being extremely close to you.

“Uhmm…” He stood there for a second and ultimately decided to sit to not make you wait.

“I like your fit!” You complimented and he nodded.

“I like yours too. Where do you buy that?” He tried asking the questions that Eren had set up for him.

“Well the jacket is from Sex Pot Revenge, the shirt from Mad Punks and the pants I made myself.” You pointed at the clothes. He had never heard of those brands and being honest to himself, the word sex still made him kinda uncomfortable when thrown around casually.

“Is that goth?” He asked very kindly, following the words of Eren to the dot, “My best friend is a goth and she dresses kind of similar.”

“Hmm I know what you mean,” You started explaining, “I am goth but I suppose this is not a goth-ish look, right now it’s more of a vkei outfit. Do you mind if I explain it next time?”

Next time. I smile formed in his lips, so subtle and gentle, it adorned his face in such a beautiful way that it genuinely made your heart skip a beat.

He shook his head, of course he wouldn’t mind, he would fucking love it.

“Let’s get to the reading then.” You said taking the book from your lap. You flipped through the pages and saw his small handwriting covering the margins of the book in a thoughtful and organized manner. Where Nightfall was printed in big bold letters you stopped.

There was some kind of lack of coordination for the first pages you two read, sometimes he would flip the page before you were done or viceversa, but eventually you both adapted somehow to the reading speed of each other, since there was little to no difference anyway, and would give a look at the other one when done with the page.

That of course would not always account for calculations errors and your hands would brush with the other’s more often than what you’d like to admit. And his cologne would reverberate through the air and make you dizzy in love so you would forget what paragraph you were reading.

“Ow I am so hungry…” Suddenly you felt convalescent, you had breakfast at 9am and it was now 4pm.

“Do you wanna stop and go eat?” He asked lifting his eyes from the paper.

“Hmm, sure, let’s go then, the rain cleared out already.” You stood up and grabbed your things.

Armin had meant that you could go and eat, on your own, but seeing that you immediately included him left another of those lingering smiles in his face. He quickly stood up and walked besides you.

“So what do you think of it?” You asked him referring to the book.

“Immediately reminded me of when I learned that our galaxy and the Andromeda galaxy will crash eventually and I started freaking out.” He recalled a little embarrassed.

“That’s a shared experience for sure, cosmic horror is scary in such a way! My modern version of that is thinking about strange matter devouring everything.”

He was screaming in his head, punching the wall even. Where had you been all his life. His heart was genuinely aching from how fast it was beating. Maybe his heart was beating so fast that it could also be catalogued as a neutron star and his revolting feelings for you were everlasting changing and growing like strange matter.

“So stable that whatever it comes across transforms to emulate that stability.” He mumbled and you nodded, praising his intellect.

“Wanna take the bus into town? I can’t drive.” You asked and he nodded, also commenting that he couldn’t drive either. The bus ride was filled with back and forth debates about Nightfall and other trivial things that came up. Once you both got to the little college town, you decided on a restaurant. Armin only drank some juice and watched you eat lunch.

“I love taking the bus when is empty.” You mentioned getting on the bus, Armin was quick to say agree; he ached for spending more time with you.

“Bye, I had fun.” Once back at campus, and about to part ways, Armin said goodbye.

“Bye ‘Min. See you next time.” You gave him a quick hug and left.

He stood there for some minutes before rushing to get back to his dorm, Eren needed to know it all.

[fancyfeathers]

Huntian: Where did you get 10 million? That's a lot of money, and I understand you have to justify the money to your dad.

Miss Luthor: Well, a crazy guy attacked my father when he took me to work, and that crazy guy tried to take my arm because he said my dad snatched it or something. Obviously, I got scared and started crying like a little girl.

Songbird: Justifiable, but what about the money?

Miss Luthor: I'll get to that part. Later, my father solved the problem by giving that crazy guy a box. Since I couldn't stop shaking with fear, they carried me home. Since it took me a while to calm down, I ended up upsetting my father, and he gave me all that money as consolation and said he was going to transfer more to me.

Songbird: You need to cry to your father more often.

Blue Lantern: Definitely, because my brother says they just transferred a few million into your account.

Burn It All Down

No that is such a canon interaction to the story like cause Lex’s daughter was most definitely spoiled growing up but in a way to make up for everything, like oh her dad missed dinner because of a business meeting in Shanghai? He’ll have Mercy take her out shopping or to a concert. She is going to nationals with her volleyball team? Oh sorry he can’t be there in person since he is closing a business deal and will be in London, oh but don’t worry he’ll face time and watch the whole thing, and her mother and Mercy will be there the whole time to watch and he’ll pay for the best hotel for her and her teammates and fly them out on a private jet and she can call daddy right after the game to tell him how it went and cry if she lost.

Her entire closet back home is worth at least three quarters of a million if not more, let’s be honest it’s probably more, with all the designer brands he buys her and custom made, one of a kind clothes, all just for her. She is grateful but at some point it just feels like empty gestures, because while her dad knows every little detail about what goes on in her life via phone calls or security cameras, but he is barely there for most of it even if he acts like he is, all of those gifts are just empty apologies to fill the void of him not actually being there. It’s just her and her mom sitting at the dining room table most nights if her mom does not eat in her own room, then it’s just her sitting alone. Her parents no doubt have their issues which hurt their daughter in the process.

Then when she finally gets to spend actual time with her dad, of course it’s him taking her to work, her sitting on one of the couches in his office while she reads a book or something and he’ll talk to her every know and then but even then it’s mostly silence because at this point she’d rather be out at a picnic with her volleyball team.

(Link to the scene this ask is talking about from season two of Young Justice)

Then to make it worse, her father’s office nearly gets blown up by Roy Harper when he tries to get revenge on Luthor for kidnapping him, cutting off his arm, cloning him, and freezing him for eight years. She is absolutely terrified when she gets dragged down to the parking garage to get taken somewhere safe. But even then Roy tries to attack them there, fighting Mercy, meanwhile Lex is perfectly calm, while his daughter is a terrified mess because she has no clue what is going on as a sweet little sheltered rich girl.

So when Roy finally beats Mercy, he instead gets an explosive rope around her arm instead of Lex’s arm and she is just about to pass out in pure fear, meanwhile her father is still completely calm, even with the threat of his daughter’s arm getting completely blown off…

“That’s detonation cord Luthor, the kind Lexcorp sells illegally, it’s the perfect revenge. I use your own tech to do to your daughter what you did to me.”

“Expect we gave you anesthesia, your methods seem a tad more violent.”

“W-what is he talking about?! Daddy, what’s going on?!”

“Calm down my dear, everything will be perfectly fine, just let me handle it.”

By the time it is all over, Luthor giving Roy a case with something in it in exchange for him to leave the with his daughter completely unharmed, well physically at least, mentally anyway she is a wreck. She has to deal with the fact that her father is not only absent in her life but also a horrible person, shocker I know.

So she’ll be sitting in her room when they get home, still just getting through a panic attack after everything that has happened while hearing her parents arguing down the hall and then she gets a notification on her phone.

Ten million transferred into her account.

The next thing she realizes her phone is thrown across the room and breaks on the wall, but she doesn’t even care, she feels like she is going insane at this point, literally on the verge of shattering her bedroom window with a lamp and crawling out and running away and never looking back, not like she would get far alone without dragging her back. But when Apollo, Oliver Queen’s son comes to rescue her, knocking on her window and stealing her away like some sort of platonic Prince Charming , she doesn’t ever look back once.

Now what happens to her makes funny stories to share with her new friends, her new family, all of them laughing at their past trauma to cope in some capacity since they don’t know what else to do and she is certainly not going back to retail therapy and using daddy’s credit card to get whatever is needed to cover up the wounds.

[clearlydiamondz]

Nesting

(Y/N) is at the point in her pregnancy where she is now nesting. Erik is confused, but he's going with the flow.

_________________________

Erik sat at his desk, playing with some of his friends streaming the new Call of Duty game. Being a successful streamer with millions of fans, he now had a life where he could live comfortably and still do what he loved, which was playing games.

Being a gamer is actually how he met the love of his life, (Y/N). Meeting on a discord back in high school, the two of them hit it off. There was only one thing that prevented them from being physically together. He lived in Oakland, and she lived in Miami. Her parents thought she was silly to find love over the internet, calling it a weird phase while his friends thought she was made up.

That was until she surprised him at his high school graduation. Saving for months, working as a moderator and at Chick-fil-A, she was able to save enough money to meet him. With the supervision of her parents of course.

Now here they are, 10 years later married and expecting twins. Two boys and she was over the moon about it. If they were over the moon, Erik was over the planet Jupiter. All of the outfits, baby supplies, and decorations were bought on Erik's behalf. Every time he walked into a store, he always walked out with something for the babies.

She could show him something that she thought was cute for their nursery and within days, it was ordered.

He was always clingy with her, and she loved it. Ever since she was pregnant, it was like he was at her side every second of the day. They were lucky enough to be streamers so they could have that time together, but boy he was obsessed.

His camera roll was filled with pictures of her, showing the journey from when she first found out she was pregnant to the development of the baby bump.

"Damn, why are you so bad, move!" he yelled into the headset.

"Nigga fuck you!" Quan yelled back into the mike making everyone bust out laughing.

"Awe you mad." Chelsea teased him. Eventually, they ended up winning, as they sat on the loading screen talking shit with each other.

That's when Erik heard a bang in the room next door, which just so happened to be the twins' nursery.

"Hold on y'all." he stepped away from his gaming set, walking in to see the baby clothes everywhere and his wife in the middle of the room folding them and placing them in the drawers.

"Mama, what are you doing?" he asked her. She turned to look at him with a pout.

"Baby there is so much to do and we only have a week left until they are due and I can't even-" she was crying at this point, Erik realizing that it was probably her hormones.

"Shh, it's okay. You know I'll help you with anything you need. The doctor wants you to not be on your feet as much." Erik was a little confused by the sudden rush to want to do stuff. Just last night she was in the middle of the kitchen reorganizing the kitchen drawers and the cupboards making room for the twins' bottles. She literally took everything apart.

Or how she decided to wash every piece of clothing and blanket for the babies, even though everything was brand new.

What he said made her cry even harder. "I appreciate you so much baby, y-you are just so good to us and-" she cut herself up hiccuping.

"Here about you go sit in the living room, play a movie and I'll order you some of the spicy ramen you like from the restaurant downtown," he told her helping her stand up.

"Ooh yes. You know the spicy foods can induce labor," she said matter-of-factly. He chuckled at the random fact before saying,

"Once I'm done for the stream tonight, I'll organize their room for you. I don't want you putting any unnecessary stress on yourself." he told her, she pouted before saying,

"You'd really do that?" she whispered as her eyes started to water again.

"Yes, now go relax. I'ma place the order now okay?" he kissed her on the forehead, then on the lips, then on her stomach. He watched his wife walk, well more like waddle, out of the room to make herself comfortable downstairs in the living room. He came back to the station, not before ordering him and his wife some ramen.

"Alright y'all, I'm back. (Y/N) needed help with something." he said getting his player ready for the next round.

"How yo ole woman doin? She should be about ready to pop any moment now right?" Damien, one of his other close friends said.

"Yeah, next week will be the due date," Erik said with a smile. The chat was filled with congratulations from his supporters.

"Awe. Look at you all gushy and shit. Can't believe Stevens gonna be a daddy." Quan teased him as he rolled his eyes laughing. He was about to say something but he heard his wife scream out for him.

"E!" she yelled.

"Hold that thought y'all." he got up and ran downstairs to see his wife downstairs with four big boxes.

"Can you move two to the living room and the other two upstairs for me baby? I'ma get their swings set up. " she said sitting there with a smile on her face.

"What are these?" he asked looking at the boxes.

"The swings," she said still smiling.

"So you bought four of them?" he asked her as she sighed.

"No, two of them we got free with the sponsorship. The other two I did buy so we can have a setup and downstairs. Because apparently, the only bad review is that they are really heavy." she said matter-of-factly. "I'm kinda hungry can we order something?" she said rubbing her stomach.

Pregnancy brain.

"Mama, I told you I was ordering some of the ramen." she looked at him confused before realizing.

"Ugh, I forgot. I'm so slow," she said, face palming herself. "I keep forgetting stuff," she said, her eyes watering.

"No no no, it's okay baby. I know you don't mean to, I'll remember everything for you. Even if it's your social security number." he joked making her laugh.

"Please, I remember my social security number. 832-21-" she paused forgetting the last four. "Oh my god, I can't even remember my last four digits." she panicked. Erik cussed himself knowing he just made it worse. "I can't even remember my social security number. How am I expected to take care of two babies!"

"It's 9382. Don't worry my love. You will be okay, I promise." he grabbed her by the face, kissing her lips as she sighed. "I want you to relax, I'll take care of everything. I promise." he whispered. She nodded before waddling into the living room. After taking two of the boxes upstairs, he came back.

"Sorry, (Y/N) needed me again." he sighed. "For a pregnant lady, this girl is a freaking busybody. She is supposed to be on bed rest." he stated.

"Where is she going?" Chelsea asked.

"It's not where she's going. It's what she's doing. She can't sit down for the sake of her. I woke up last night to her re-organizing the twin's closet. For the third time. It was like two in the morning." he stated.

"That's wild." Damien chuckled.

"Huh," Chelsea said, coming to the realization of something. "What else?"

"She reorganized the cabinets in the kitchen, washed all of the baby stuff even though it's new, and been on a cleaning frenzy for like three days straight," he said.

"You sure she ain't got OCD?" Quan chuckled.

"She doesn't. Actually she's pretty messy but for the last week, it's like she needs everything to be cleaned." Erik replied.

"Erik, it sounds like she's nesting." Chelsea chuckled.

"The hell is that? She ain't no pigeon." Quan replied, making Erik chuckle.

"No you fucking dumbass." Chelsea rolled her eyes. "It's a natural instinct for mothers to want to get their home ready for the baby. It happens with humans and animals. That's why it is called nesting."

"I ain't gonna lie, that's kinda adorable," Damien stated.

Erik's interest peaked, he minimized the game window and opened Google to look at it. "Alright chat, let's learn some new shit," he said clicking the first link.

"So it says that they have an overwhelming desire to organize, clean, and prep for the baby's arrival. That makes a lot of sense." he chuckled.

"Yeah, it's a natural instinct. It's like an itch, she won't be able to stop until the twins are here." Chelsea told him. "It makes sense because she's due next week. When my sister was nesting, my mama told me that it was a sign that babies were about to come. So she might be going into labor within a couple of days. Just gotta roll with it man" Chelsea chuckled.

After the stream was done, he found himself downstairs, seeing her prepping the swings before looking at him.

"Oh, I was just getting the stuff prepared for you. I know-"

"It's okay. I know you can't help but get your hands dirty." he chuckled kissing her on the cheek. She looked at him confused.

"What's with the change of heart?" she asked in confusion.

"You're nesting." he expected her to know what it was, but the look still stayed on her face.

"I'm not a freaking bald eagle, the hell is nesting?" she asked as he chuckled.

"You have this urge to clean up, organize, do a bunch of stuff hands-on. It's called nesting. A sign that Thing 1 and Thing 2 are coming." he said rubbing her stomach. She thought about it.

"Makes sense. I have had this urge to reorganize the pantry also.."

________________

@life-in-the-slut-house @gloglamsparks @niahsa @hippieonboard @nanii2x @ejs398 @royaler1999 @luvvvjada @sourbabynaee @tthatkidmimi @kanilive @christinabae @nccu-rnc @youcanttouchthis1001 @jordyn-wkndafvr @ts1mp0ne @meeeeep5 @ravynnn-12 @metra873 @determinednot2fall @trippyscotch @thiswasnevermylifefromtony @itsophiebby @princessmel-1995 @blkmystery @xsweetdellzx @ziirowe @cozyashhh @luvvvjada @reneinii @ts1mp0ne @kaireads2020 @blmcd57110 @ziayamikaelson @babbtdollaaassignn @forevermoremagcon @ajenae @etherealluvrr @lynaye1993 @mscarter213 @automaticdragonmugalien @bethy-baby @softleosworld @meekmillsfrenchfries @hinatasfleshlight @kokokonakon @sociallyawkward18 @raysunshine78 @justgetitoverwith0 @lishabaybeee-blog @rbhp @ladymac @musicisme333

[alwritey-aphrodite]

Scout, I would love for Jaime to try his hand at fixing the A/C (21)

-M

2024 Summer Blurbs

With the prevalence of ancient houses and the desire to look as environmentally conscious as possible, there is a severe lack of air conditioning in London. Most of the year, you’re able to function without an AC, but for the few weeks where the heat is unbearable, an AC seems more and more necessary with every passing summer. The house you and Jamie moved into was new and modern and had been built by someone with millions of dollars to throw away, so you’d been one of the lucky few to have a house with central air conditioning.

Until it broke right as the temperatures began to rise.

As soon as the air conditioning stopped working, Jamie had taken it upon himself to fix it, with only the help of a brand new toolkit and videos he’d found online. He’s been trying, spending every spare minute he has to figure out how to fix the machine, but all he’s succeeded in doing is making himself frustrated and probably breaking the system further.

“I can ask Roy for the number of that guy that did his heating, I’m sure he can work on AC too,” you offer for what feels like the hundredth time, and Jamie stops his poking around to look at you like you’ve grown a second head, as if you’re the crazy one for offering to call a professional.

“Babe, I told ya, I can figure it out,” he says as he wipes the sweat off of his forehead, the breeze coming in through the open windows doing little to keep you cool in the extreme temperatures, “it can’t be that hard.’

You do your best not to laugh, because you know he really is trying his hardest and he really does want to fix it on his own, but it’s been days and he hasn’t made even the slightest bit of progress. If you have to spend another day sweating, with no relief from the heat, you might lose your mind. When Jamie finally gives up for the night and goes to take a shower to finally attempt to cool down, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

The repair is scheduled perfectly, the van pulling into your driveway as soon as you know Jamie’s made it safely to the pitch, and it’s gone before he heads home. By the time he steps inside, the air conditioner is working perfectly, and your house is a cool oasis once again.

“How’d this happen?” Jamie asks as he sets his bag down, marveling at the fact that he’s not dripping sweat again.

“You must’ve figured it out, I was doing the laundry and it just started working again,” you reply, your perfected lie sounding natural and casual, and by the way Jamie smiles, you know he doesn’t suspect a thing.

It’s probably not the healthiest to lie to him, but you just couldn’t stand the thought of seeing him so disappointed and frustrated again. He takes every failure personally, on and off the pitch, even when the reality has little to do with him. You knew he’d internalize his inability to figure out what he views as a simple fix, and you couldn’t live with yourself when you knew he’d be beating himself up.

Despite your slight deception, it really is a win-win situation: Jamie gets to enjoy his newfound mechanical prowess, and you get to enjoy your beloved AC again.