#making fun of plus sized people is disgusting and I hope everyone who has feels ashamed.

[axmoth]

If I see one more fat phobic post involving pastel spider on tiktok I swear to god..

[renjuseyo]

if ur requests are open can i pls request Jaehyun x male reader where the reader is so drunk that he forgot that his boyfriend(jaehyun) is his boyfriend. then he asks a member if he is taken and they said yes and that will make reader to silently be sad in the corner and jaehyun asks if readers ready to go home......... andddddddd ill leaveee the rest to u hehehehe (iloveurwriting so much)

tipsy ; jaehyun

group: nct

pairing: jung yoonoh / reader (male)

synopsis: both you and jaehyun knew how much of a lightweight you were, but when has that ever stopped you?

genre: fluff, crack

warnings: implied sexual content, explicit language

i lost inspiration for this, so i hope this mess of a fic is okay anon! as always, feedback is appreciated!!

when you peek through the peephole, you expect to see the delivery man holding the package you had ordered online. instead, you’re pleasantly surprised to see your boyfriend on the other side of the door, wrapped in a hoodie, mask, and tinted sunglasses. his disguise is pretty unnecessary given how your neighbors are mainly made up of old people who have never heard of nct, but it gets the job done.

once you’ve unhooked the chain bolt, you unlock the door and swing it open. he slightly jumps at the noise, but visibly softens when he sees you. “hey (name),” he greets, slipping off his mask and sunglasses.

“hey yourself. what are you doing here?” you ask. with how hectic his schedule has been after promotions with the nct 2020 project and working as an mc on inkigayo, you two hadn’t seen each other in weeks. though you missed him, you sympathized with the tireless hours he spent working as an idol. at least you preoccupied yourself with netflix.

he slips off his sneakers and enters your home, taking off the rest of his disguise. you close and lock the door behind you, trailing behind him. “i managed to squeak in some free time today, so i came to visit you,” he explains. he faces you with a smile, pulling you close. you subconsciously lean your head onto his shoulder, humming as he sways your bodies.

“i missed you,” you tell him, fingers ghosting his waist. he makes a noise of agreement, resting his chin on your head.

you eventually pull away, eliciting a grumble from jaehyun. contrary to popular belief, he was the clingy one of you two, always using the excuse of “you’re just the perfect size for cuddling.” “stop grumbling, jae. you’ve come so far, so it’s only fair i make you something to eat,” you tell him, making your way towards the kitchen.

he follows suit, hand grabbing at the hood of your hoodie. you stop in front of the refrigerator and open it, canvassing the food you have in there. as you debate what to make for lunch, he rests his chin on your shoulder and snakes both arms around your waist. you roll your eyes, though you don’t make any movements to pry his arms off. “i can always eat something else,” he smirks.

you realize too late the implications of his comment, absentmindedly sorting through the bags of vegetables in your fridge. “do you want takeout instead then? mrs. moon from two doors down said that there’s this really good pho house near here.”

he nuzzles into your shoulder. “i’d really like to eat you,” he says as nonchalantly as one can, considering his implications. you nearly drop a bag of spinach, spluttering incoherent words as you spin around to swat his shoulder. he laughs, loud and proud, a stark contrast from the quiet, polite laugh he’s practiced.

“you’re the worst,” you hiss, reluctantly closing the fridge. he pecks your cheek, eliciting a disgusted screech from you. he leans back with a laugh before attacking your face with kisses. you shut your eyes as you try to wiggle out of his grasp. but jaehyun’s been working out, evident from his arms, and he’s always had an intense grip. when he leans away, satisfied, you flick his forehead. with how clingy jaehyun’s being, making lunch isn’t an option anymore. “i hate you.”

jaehyun eventually relinquishes his attacks, threading his fingers with yours. “you’re usually not this clingy, jae. actually, now that i think about it, you don’t flirt all too much either, much less suggest sexual innuendos. what’s the occasion?” you ask as he walks you two to your living room. he doesn’t immediately respond, flopping down onto the couch and dragging you along with him. you land on his chest with an oomph, your cheek squished against his chest.

he combs his fingers through your hair, smiling as you make a noise of approval. “well, i wasn’t going to say anything before the news outlet, but...” his smile only widens when he sees you look up at him with curious eyes; he nearly coos at how innocent you look. “a certain idol you know might make his acting debut soon~”

your eyes widen, and you quickly prop yourself up with your elbows. “what! no way!” you exclaim, jaw hanging open. jaehyun laughs at your shell-shocked reaction, though it’s a given; when you were in a mood to vent, he would always take your hand and pepper your knuckles with butterfly kisses as you ranted about how he deserved better and shouldn’t only be seen as a visual, whining about how sm failed to show his talents as a singer and an actor. well, those days are over now, he supposes.

“yes way, love. are you excited?” he isn’t sure why he asked that question, considering how shell-shocked you already look. plus, the squeal that leaves your throat and the way you throw yourself onto him is answer enough already.

“do you even have to ask? you used to send me videos of you acting out different roles because you wanted to try acting, and you always did them so well! i’m really proud of you, jae. you deserve it.”

“i’m really glad you think so, (name). do you want to hear-”

“no!” you interrupt, slapping both of your palms on his mouth. he tilts his head in confusion, surprised by your sudden outburst. “knowing you, you’re going to accidentally tell me everything, and then i’m going to know the whole story line before the show even airs!”

he’s about to refute your claims, but he can’t really considering how you’ve layered both of your palms on his mouth. plus, judging by the look you give him, he’s certain he’s going to be eating his own words sooner or later. with a sigh, he peels your palms off. "you’re no fun. can i not even tell you the name and the basic plot?”

“i’m sorry for wanting to give you ratings,” you snort. “and no. then i’ll be waiting in anticipation and will force you to tell me everything, even if you tell me you can’t because i told you before not to say anything. you can’t even give me a drop of information.” well, jaehyun supposes that is true. you’ve always been enticed by television shows; he’s personally seen you react to cliffhangers a show gives before it ultimately gets cancelled. needless to say, it isn’t a pretty sight. “this calls for celebration! we can invite the boys too... do you want it to be extravagant, or are we keeping it low key?” you ask, sitting up and reaching for your phone.

“what happened to just you and me?” jaehyun asks, batting his eyelashes with feigned innocence. “i can think of a lot more fun things we can do.”

you don’t even bat an eye; unlike earlier, you were prepared for this kind of comment. “shoving my foot up your ass sounds really fun, but unfortunately that won’t get me any food. the boys probably already knew before i did, so you’ve probably already celebrated with them... i guess we can keep it simple.”

“i’d take your foot any day,” he fires back with a heavily exaggerated moan, to which you respond with a slap on the arm.

“i’m telling johnny to bring over beer.” you’re texting a group chat with you and the other 127 members. you’re only dating jaehyun, yet sometimes it feels like you’re dating all of them with how close you are. plus, gossiping with jungwoo about your boyfriend is always fun. with him being his roommate, you both often share similar struggles.

he rolls his eyes, stretching over to wrap his arms around your waist. he peers over your shoulder to look at your screen. “please, (name). you’re the lightest lightweight i’ve ever met. who are you telling to bring over drinks? you’re like a baby.”

“fuck you.”

“i think it’s the other way around, but i’d gladly let you order me around~” he flirts.

you shove a pillow in his face as you fire off a text.

after ordering pizza, tteokbokki, and fried chicken, your dinner is nearly complete. the boys were coming over soon, with johnny being in charge of drinks, jungwoo in charge of takeout, and donghyuck in charge of entertainment. you had a nintendo switch jaehyun had gifted you two years ago, and you intended on making full use of it tonight.

(plus, you have yet to beat yuta at super smash bros. today is going to be that day.)

you had finished clearing the table for the food before you notice jaehyun’s sleeping frame on the couch. you’re about to walk over and reprimand him for being unproductive, but seeing how tired and peaceful he looks stops you. instead, you grab a blanket from your room and drape it over him.

you’re about to walk away and grab water bottles for everyone when you feel something tugging your hand. craning your neck, you smile at jaehyun’s hooded eyes laced with sleep. “c’mere,” he murmurs.

water bottles can wait, then. you pat jaehyun’s side, and he scoots over to allow room for you. as you slot yourself in his arm, spreading a leg across his, he makes a noise of satisfaction, eyes fluttering close. “someone’s tired,” you observe, pushing the mop of black bangs obscuring his eyes. “did practice run late?”

he avoids your gaze. “no, i spent the night playing uno with johnny, ten, and mark,” he admits.

you laugh. “must have been intense. i bet you were so burnt out from uno,” you sympathize with sarcasm. “but in general, don’t overexert yourself, okay? i know you’ve been busy, but you need to remember to take care of yourself.”

jaehyun nods, but a yawn rips out of his chest. you give him a knowing look, one that reads what did i say? which causes him to laugh. “yes sir,” he lazily responds.

“as tired as you may be, don’t go falling asleep on me now. the others are going to be here soon. what would they think, the guest of honor asleep at his own party?” you chuckle, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on his forehead.

he beams at the gesture. “give me more kisses and i’ll think about it,” he coaxes.

usually you don’t give in to his bratty demands, but seeing how tired he is reminds you of the accomplishments he’s achieved in the past year. a kiss is the least you could down. you lean down, breath fanning his lips, and he closes his eyes in contentment.

a few seconds pass, but the kiss never comes. when jaehyun opens his eyes, he’s surprised to see you’re no longer by his side, instead standing by the door. “that’s one way of telling a guy to come and get it,” he sighs, sitting up. he wearily rubs his eyes, blurry eyes watching you.

“sorry jae, taeil-hyung just texted saying they’re here,” you apologize. he sighs, eventually standing up after a few moments of stretching.

just as you had said, knocks resonate throughout your home, signalling their arrival. you peek through the peephole to verify their identities and sure enough, all nine other members stand outside, arms loaded. you undo the chain lock and swing the door open, greeting everyone.

“thanks for having us,” taeyong smiles, stepping into your home. everyone else echoes his message, but it comes out mumbled, like they hadn’t thought of saying anything until taeyong. the power a leader has, you suppose.

“no problem. here, let me grab some of the food.” you scurry over to jungwoo and mark, whose arms were loaded with the takeout you ordered.

as you grab a box of pizza from mark, johnny slaps you on the back. you nearly lurch forward and drop the pizza; if you had, johnny would be first on your hit list. “so jaehyun finally told you?” he asks with a grin.

“thank god. he spent days talking about ways to tell you, knowing how excited you’d be,” sicheng snorts, slipping off his shoes.

you laugh, especially when you see jaehyun spluttering in embarrassment. “you could’ve fooled me. all he did was waltz in and drop the news after he nearly fell asleep. made me feel like a proud parent and everything.”

“you may feel like one now, but wait until you watch him act. just going to be lots of cringing and teasing,” doyoung sneers, elbowing his shoulder.

yuta rolls his eyes. “like you’re one to talk, mr. lead actor.”

your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. “lead actor?!” doyoung laughs, answering your question. “good for you, hyung!”

jaehyun narrows his eyes. “why do you look more amazed at his news than mine?!”

i’m not a lightweight, you told yourself. i can handle whatever yuta throws at me, you told yourself.

you were sorely mistaken.

jaehyun notices this too, seeing you sway in your seat. he chuckles at the sight; you were never able to hold your liquor, and when you got drunk, you were quite the spontaneous drinker to deal with. one time you had drank so much that you cried over cute things, like when sicheng showed you a picture of his dogs. or the one time you were a man on a mission, flirting with all of the members. needless to say, that led to a very interested jaemin and a very pouty jaehyun.

you had initially planned on just sticking to soda, but yuta had wanted to make things more interesting and challenged you to a game of super smash bros. each time the loser lost, they would have to down a can of beer. despite your inability to hold your liquor, it activated your competitive nature. but of course, yuta is crazy good at any games he suggests, completely demolishing you with lucina. no matter which character you chose, you were just no match against him.

after several fruitless attempts, you’re seated between taeil and sicheng, who seem way too interested in the tteokbokki to notice your behavior. everyone else seems occupied, too; johnny, yuta, jungwoo, and donghyuck are playing mario kart 8, taeyong and mark are immersed in yet another one of their deep, contemplative conversations, and doyoung’s watching the whole scene unfold, supervising everyone (probably to ensure nothing ends up in flames). on the other hand, jaehyun’s sitting on your sofa, alternating between watching the four men in front of your television screaming and you in your tipsy state. he decides to stick with the latter.

eventually you lift your eyes up and make eye contact with jaehyun, who responds with a wink. seeing you flush and look away has his chest swelling with giddiness; you’re just too cute sometimes. the table isn’t far from the sofa, so he can hear any conversation that goes on there. he watches as you take another sip of your can, eyes shifting back and forth from the television and to him. you stare at him for a bit longer, eyes canvassing his face, his posture, his thoughts.

it seems sicheng notices your staring, sitting back down and nudging your shoulder. “what’s so interesting that it’s gotten your attention?” he asks, purposefully raising his voice so jaehyun can hear.

you flush at how loud he is, lazily putting a finger to your lips. “shhh, i’m staring at the pretty boy there.” you point your chin towards jaehyun, who pretends to not see. you’ve never been subtle when you were drunk, but telling you that would just lead to you loudly slurring your arguments. “do you know if he’s dating anyone?”

jaehyun nearly spits out his beer. of all the times you’ve gotten drunk, you’ve never once forgotten that you were his boyfriend - if anything, you were all too eager to prove just how much you belonged to him. he’s not sure whether to feel startled or amused.

sicheng chooses the latter, a smirk forming. “yeah, he has a boyfriend,” he tells you. jaehyun hopes you’ll realize that you’re the boyfriend in question, but seeing how you deflate like a balloon, he guesses not. he questions how much you’ve had to drink.

you slide off of your chair, pouting. “of course a guy as attractive as him has a boyfriend. i’m not surprised,” you grumble, crossing your arms. jaehyun can’t help the amused smirk that makes its way on his face. watching you envy yourself for being his boyfriend is very amusing.

sicheng must feel the same, stifling his laughter. “don’t look so bitter, (name). his boyfriend’s a good guy.”

you pout, crossing your arms. “well, i bet i can treat him ten times better! pretty boy there doesn’t know what he’s missing out on,” you boast, standing up.

sicheng can only watch in amusement as you stagger towards the kitchen. if only you knew how strange that statement was. “if you’re so confident about that, then what are you doing? planning on hiding in the kitchen to wallow on your sorrows?” he teases.

“i’m not!” you protest. “i’m just going to get some water because i’m dizzy as fuck and possibly cry about how single i am.” you mumble the last part, though because sicheng has uncanny hearing, he probably heard, if the smirk on his lips is anything to go by.

jaehyun decides it’s time to intercept, because as amusing as things were, he hoped you weren’t actually going to cry about being single, especially since you had no reason to. he stops by the dining table where taeil and sicheng are. “so i heard you and (name) were talking about me.”

sicheng snorts, rolling his eyes. “just because we said pretty boys doesn’t mean we were talking about you.”

though unaware of the topic, taeil leans in, chewing on a mouthful of pizza. “yeah, for all we know, he could be talking about me!” he chirps. he’s met with an annoyed glare from sicheng (though both of them can see him stifling his laughter), which he responds with an air kiss. typical taeil.

“well, i’m going to check up on him. i’ll leave you two lovebirds alone for now,” he teases. taeil looks a little too happy at the joke, whereas sicheng threatens to stab him with a fork. it’s amusing watching their reactions, considering how everyone around them already knows that they’re dating. those two just haven’t admitted anything yet.

he follows you into the kitchen, though you don’t seem to notice, too busy pouring yourself a glass of cold water.  “(name),” he greets.

you jump in surprise, nearly spilling water on yourself. when you turn to face jaehyun, your confident nature immediately disappears, quickly replaced with one of bashfulness. “you know me?” you ask, in awe of how said pretty boy could possibly recognize you.

if only you knew just how well he knew you, he thinks to himself. instead, he decides to play along; you’re obviously too drunk to realize how silly this seems. “i do,” he hums, patting your shoulder. he isn’t sure if your red cheeks are from the alcohol or him, though he hopes for the latter. he never gets less prideful when you get all shy because of him.

hoping to maintain the confident facade you had earlier, you quickly clear your throat, looking away. “how can i help you?” you ask, taking a sip of your water.

“well, i was hoping if we could talk in a more... private area?” he asks.

you nearly spit out your water, eyes the size of saucers. he has to stop himself from laughing, afraid the drunk you would get the wrong impression. “just to talk, that’s all. it’s kind of loud here, don’t you think?”

the screams from the living room (which are mainly from johnny and donghyuck and the occasional ones of distress from taeyong) and the volume of the television are evidence enough, so you nod in agreement. “yeah, sure.”

“perfect. let’s go then~” jaehyun laces your fingers together before you can say anything, and your ears are practically fuming with smoke. you’re too distracted by his touch to question how he knows where your bedroom is. when you both enter your room, he flops down on your bed, patting the empty spot beside him. at this, you gasp, scandalized and very flustered. he chuckles at how shy you’ve gotten, shaking his head. “my my (name), get your head out of the gutter. we’re not going to do anything... unless you want to,” he flirts.

jaehyun never tries to take advantage of you, especially when you’re not sober. but when the sober you would throw pillows (or anything that wouldn’t actually hurt him) at him for flirting with you, the drunk you would always fire back with equally flirty remarks, or the shy you would just splutter in embarrassment. he can’t help it, spewing sweet nothings to you - you’re just too fun to mess with for him to not to, especially when you’re drunk.

reluctantly you place your water on your bedside table and lower yourself beside him, heart thumping erratically. he chuckles at how timid you are, a stark contrast from the snarky (name) that he knows so well. he turns to face you, both of your faces only centimetres apart. the smell of alcohol lingers on both of you, though it isn’t as prominent on him as it is on you. he makes a mental note to ask yuta how much you’ve had.

you squeak at how close you two are, hands flying to cover your face. “you have a boyfriend,” you whisper. you’re undeniably flustered, but you would rather die than be known as a homewrecker!

his laugh startles you, even more so when he presses a hand to the small of your back. you look like you’ve committed a heinous crime, potentially causing an attractive man like jaehyun to cheat on his boyfriend. the statement is so abusrd though, considering how you’re the boyfriend in question. “i do, you are right. he won’t be mad at me, though,” he hums, leaning in so close your noses would touch if it weren’t for the makeshift barrier you’ve made from your hands. you flush red in embarrassment, hiding your eyes behind your hands. if you make eye contact with him, you’re sure you’re going to melt into a puddle.

“even if he didn’t mind, i don’t think we should be doing this. i know i wouldn’t be happy if my boyfriend did this,” you whisper.

jaehyun sure is having a field day with this. you’re too flustered and worried to notice the pure look of adoration he’s giving you. “call it a hunch,” he says. “i promise you, he won’t be mad at this.”

“why?”

“you’ll find out tomorrow.” he pauses as a yawn rips out of his chest. “i’m really tired, so i’m going to sleep. the boys probably won’t quiet down on my account, anyways. you can always go back to them if you want, though,” he offers. a small part of him hopes for you to stay and cuddle with him, but judging how you’re so sure he has a boyfriend who would be absolutely devastated for literally sleeping with another man and how you have no knowledge of where you stand, he wouldn’t be surprised if you left.

what does surprise him, though, is when you stay rooted in your spot on the bed. “i’m tired, too,” you say.

jaehyun smiles so sweetly, the one that has his eyes dripping with honey, that your hands fly up to cover your face again. his boyfriend must be lucky to see that sight all of the time, you bitterly think to yourself. still, even if you’re not sure why he’s flirting with you or where you stand, you decide to savor every moment that you get to spend with him. even if you don’t really know who pretty boy is, he’s sweet and kind. plus, only a fool would cover their eyes when someone as beautiful as him lays before you.

he moves an arm to pat your thigh when he freezes in midair, remembering how he’s supposed to have a boyfriend to stay loyal to (even though he’s right in front of him). he retracts his arm and instead pulls your blanket to cover your lower bodies. “goodnight, (name),” he hums, shutting his eyes.

before jaehyun can begin the long process of trying to fall asleep, he feels you tug at his t-shirt. cracking an eye open, he sees you laying before him, staring at him with curious eyes and red cheeks. oh no, now he’s really tempted to kiss you. you’re impossibly adorable, seeing how vulnerable and curious you are. “yes?” he hums, trying to stay awake. the effects from last night’s uno matches have really begin to take a toll on him.

“i don’t think i’ve gotten the chance to ask, but may i know your name?” you ask.

jaehyun chuckles. he’s flirted with you and is even sleeping in the same bed as you, yet he’s forgotten the basic courtesy that is introductions. he didn’t think he would’ve needed it, considering how you’re his boyfriend. but then again, you’ve forgotten that you are his boyfriend. “my name’s yoonoh, but you can call me jaehyun or jae.”

no one actually calls him jae except for you. it’s a short and simple nickname that you have for him, nothing endearing. but because it’s something that only you call him, even though there isn’t a meaning to it, he’s grown fond of the way it sounds leaving your lips. which is why hearing it from anyone that isn’t you only leaves a weird taste on his tongue.

you’re so drunk you don’t even remember jaehyun, nor who he is to you, so it isn’t surprising that you stick with jaehyun instead. he doesn’t mind though, because he knows when you’re sober again he’ll hear you calling him jae and cuddling into him and doing all of the coupley things he wasn’t able to do tonight.

wow, jaehyun really is a lovesick fool. it’s only been one night of not being able to cuddle or kiss you, but he feels like he’s missed a whole eternity of them. he really isn’t sure how he’s lived before you came into his life.

for an hour, you pester jaehyun on how you two became acquainted and who you were to him. he indulged you, of course, purposefully skipping over the part of you becoming boyfriends and doing things that friends definitely didn’t do. his stories seem to be an effective way of getting you to sleep, because in the middle of a story of how a pair of swapped backpacks led to your relationship, you’re lulled to sleep, tired hands clutching onto his t-shirt.

he can only chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss on your nose. you’ll sure be in for a storm when you sober up tomorrow morning.

your jaw drops as you stare at the video on doyoung’s phone. it’s of you and sicheng, and right now you can only watch in horror as you pester him for information on the pretty boy you were so interested in last night. you have no recollection of last night’s events, though watching the video makes you glad you don’t. the problem is, the boys were there to witness them, even recording evidence of it on their phones. you’ve already seen pictures that johnny and taeyong have taken from when you and jaehyun were cuddling in your bed.

“please tell me that isn’t me,” you whisper, utterly mortified.

mark pats your shoulder in sympathy. “that’s you, all right.”

at his confirmation, you groan, burying your face in your hands. doyoung and donghyuck are cackling at your demise, with sicheng reciting your complaints word from word to a very amused johnny and yuta.

“...and then he was like well, i bet i can treat him ten times better! pretty boy there doesn’t know what he’s missing out on,” sicheng mimics, purposefully raising his voice an octave higher as he mocks you. out of embarrassment, you reach for a pillow on your couch and fling it at him. unlike jaehyun, he’s very good at dodging, proven when he ducks. instead, the pillow smacks yuta square in the face. he throws it back at you with even more force.

you duck, the pillow smacking an unsuspecting jaehyun. he really is horrible at dodging things - how shameful. “what the hell was that for?” he splutters, picking it up from the floor.

you turn to face him, eyebrows furrowed with annoyance. “you watched me make an utter fool out of myself, and you didn’t once try to do anything about it?” you hiss.

jaehyun frowns in confusion until doyoung dangles his phone in front of his face. when he watches the video, his face eventually contorts to one of amusement. “oh, that.”

your face is red with embarrassment. “yeah, that! like seriously? where is your loyalty? do you not care about my well being? you know how vicious these monsters can be!” you whine, gesturing at the said nine monsters behind you.

he nonchalantly shrugs, though you can see the corners of his lips threatening to curl into a smirk. “i do, but you were just too cute, seeing you all flustered. what about my own well being, huh? seeing you like that isn’t good for my heart,” he coos.

your heart leaps, but you mask it by smothering his face with a pillow. “you’re the worst,” you grumble.

“you act like you don’t like it, but i know you do~” he retaliates, albeit muffled from the pillow.

behind you two stands nine other boys, obviously unimpressed. watching you two engage in petty banter is always amusing, but not when it makes you flustered and encourages jaehyun to flirt with you like the cheesy, lovesick fool he is. “they’re so gross,” donghyuck gags.

johnny nods in agreement. “let’s get out of here before they start fucking on the counter.”

at johnny’s comment, you turn away from jaehyun so fast you swear you hear your neck crack. “do you have no filter?!” you shriek, exasperated.

with your guard down, jaehyun takes this as a chance to wrap his arms around your waist. a noise of surprise leaves your throat as he places his chin on your shoulder. “you’re so mean, (name). i liked the shy you a lot better~” he hums.

the other boys don’t even blink. “we’re going to leave now before things get bloody. good luck, (name),” taeyong says, saluting you.

jaehyun’s already tugging at the hem of your shirt and peppering your neck with kisses by the time the boys leave.

[giorno-plays-piano]

You were all I wanted Part 3

Pairing: mob!Peter Parker x plus-sized!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, swearing, human trafficking, mentions of non-con, minor character’s death.

Words: 1600.

Summary: You are bought by the head of Stark crime family for a kid he cares about.

Part 1

Part 2

P.S. Peter is an adult!

This chapter turned out to be shorter, but it's still pretty eventful. Hope you're going to like it <3

___________

"But what... what if he won't like me? What if he'll take me away?" You sobbed, panic taking over you as you imagined Tony Stark pressing a gun to your forehead.

"No, he'd never do that." Peter left a little kiss behind your ear. "Mr. Stark doesn't take the gifts he's made back. You don't have to be afraid of that."

You sniffed at his words. That's what you were now. A gift. A possession. A pet whose job was keeping its master happy. You had to be grateful you were given to someone like Peter, at least. You didn't know whether he would always treat you kindly, but as of now he had never threatened to hurt you. You could only pray for him to fancy you so he wouldn't throw you away like some garbage - apparently, Tony Stark treated his women exactly like that.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up in the first place. Of course, you got upset." Peter cuddled with you some more, but you weren't sure whether he was being sincere. Wasn't he sending you a clear message?

Don't go against me or you'll end just like her.

"Oh, I have an idea. Let's go out! Do you wanna see the movie or something?"

You did your best to wipe away your tears and stared at the boy, perplexed. "What?"

"We have a nice little cinema not far from here. We could go right now, just let me check what they've having today."

"But didn't you say I can't leave this place?"

"I meant without me." He showed you the same smug smirk Stark was wearing all the time, and you lowered your gaze to Peter's chest instead. "With me close you can go wherever you want to."

Funny thing to say. In thruth, you could go wherever he wanted to take you.

"Wow, they're having Beyond Darkness in 30 min! We gotta go, you'll loooove this."

"Sure."

In five minutes you were already hurrying after Peter and trying to look nowhere but your shoes. Regardless of what was there in Stark's Tower, you didn't want to see it, not even mentioning all those guys with guns scattered across the building. Peter was saying his hello to each and every one of them as if he were some mafia's social butterfly.

Whatever. You knew Peter was Tony's favorite not because he had a pretty face. You had never particularly asked what his role in all this was, but it was obviously something way bigger than running errands for the gang. Maybe it was better to never figure it out.

"Hey girl, wanna have fun?" Somebody to your left asked you, and you flinched involuntarily, keeping your head low.

Peter stopped in the very same second and sent the stranger a hard look.

"Mike, you offer my girl drugs one more time and I'm gonna shoot your cute little brother in the leg, you hear me?"

You raised your eyes to Peter's smiling face and regretted it immediately. There was something so dark in his gaze you wanted to turn around and run until you were back to your room, hiding somewhere in the corner.

"Shit! Sorry, Spidey!" The guy's high-pitched voice sounded frightened. "Didn't know you got a girl!"

"Yeah, yeah, see you later, we're kind of busy now." Peter grabbed your hand and pulled you away, heading to the exit. "I forgot to mention before that we don't do drugs. At all. They're good for business, but not for us, ok, Baby?"

"Yes, Peter." You answered and kept chewing your lips, thinking of all the things he had just said. You suspected him to be more ruthless when you weren't around, but never to such extent. How damn scary was real Peter Parker?

"And don't worry, I'd never shoot his brother in whatever part of his body." The boy said it like it was something obvious and you didn't even need to pay attention to it.

Why then did that guy look completely horrified?

When you had finally stepped outside and felt the wind playing with your hair you were ready to cry. Just walking out of the Tower was a fucking torture.

It was already dark, and you pulled the zipper on your pretty blue jacket up, going almost shoulder to shoulder with Peter. Normally you'd be at least a little scared to walk the streets of a big city at night, but the guy your mother had warned you about was already holding your hand.

The place the boy brought you to was truly small but cozy with nice vintage red seats, the delicious smell of caramel popcorn spreading everywhere. It turned out that the movie was something in between Star Wars and Star Trek, which wasn't surprising because Peter was a sucker for anything related to sci-fi. Anyway, it wasn't bad and you actually enjoyed watching it. The movie helped you to keep your mind off your earlier encounter with the drug trafficker and the words Peter said.

The only way to live like that and stay sane was to turn a blind eye to anything that happened around, you thought. It was cowardly and revolting, but what could you do against one of the most, if not the most, dangerous gangs in New York? Surely, even if by some miracle you could flee the Tower and go to police, would they really be willing to help you? No, they would return you to Mr. Stark. You were a hundred percent sure he got it covered.

"Are you feeling tired, Baby?"

You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at Peter who smiled at you so lovingly it could make any girl cry.

"Just a little bit."

"Want me to give you a massage when we gonna get home?" His expression quickly turned devious, and he winked at you.

Yeah, great, now you'd have him fucking you before your knees were giving out. The kid had such stamina he could be an Olympic athlete, no less.

"Aw, I love when you blush like that." Chuckling, he put his arm around your shoulders and inched closer to give you a quick peck on the lips. You forced youself to enjoy his little signs of affection and start thinking you ought to be thankful he wasn't into heavy BDSM practices or something like that.

While you two were kissing again, you heard someone's loud footsteps as if this person just jumped out of the corner, and then there was a hateful outburst, "Stay were you are. Your wallets, quick!"

You froze, your hands getting cold as you stared at the face of a guy standing in front of you with a knife in his hands. He was clearly unstable, sick - you could see the dark circles around his eyes, the unhealthy color of his skin, and his greasy hair sticking to his forehead. You didn't know what was wrong with him, but he was twice bigger than Peter. The guy would probably have no problem with slicing both him and you into pieces if you didn't comply.

"I said g-"

"You gotta be fucking kidding me." Peter let out a frustrated sigh before you heard the loud sound of the gun firing.

There was a little black hole in the guy's chest, blood seeping through his dirty white t-shirt and coloring it in a beautiful deep ruby color. You could see the confusion in the eyes of the stranger, his mouth half-open. Slowly, he went down before his legs gave out and he landed at the ground with a loud thud. He didn't move after that.

"Come on, attacking a couple of high shoolers? You're such a psycho, man. Who were you gonna go after us? Kids?" Peter rolled his eyes and hid the gun under his bomber, turning away from the man he murdered and shouting to someone behind him. "It's ok, people! It's just me, your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man! Calm down, go home, it's late!"

You were still staring at the large pool of blood spreading beneath the body of a stranger - lack of light made it look like it was an odd black liquid. Before you could take your eyes elsewhere, you felt bile quickly going up your throat and vomitted, moving to lean your hand on the wall of a building. He killed him. Peter killed him. You didn't even see him pulling out the gun.

"Oh Baby, I'm so sorry." The boy gently held back your hair when you threw up again, feeling scared, disgusted, feverish and cold at the same time. "That's why I don't like drugs and what they do to people. That shithead lost his mind, you see? No sane guy would ever jump on me or my girl like that."

Despite him being so tender, you couldn't even turn your head to look at him as you started shaking from his touch.

You kept emptying your stomach a few more minutes before Peter softly wiped your mouth with his handkerchief and took your arm, walking you back to the Tower and saying all those unnecessary things about how terrible some people are and how everyone has to take care in the dangerous world they're living in. You didn't hear half of that, but you cared little for his chattering.

Peter had shot the man without showing even the slightest regret. He'd shoot you the same way if you ever turned against him - he was Stark's favourite, after all.

__________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki  ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @void-hoechlin @abyssaint @msruchita @opheliadawnwalker3

[waywardnerd67]

Starving Affection

Summary: It had been five years since (Y/N) had any physical contact with another person. When she starts talking with a man online who reads her fanfics, a battle of her  mind and body begins. When the time comes to meet him, she finds that there are still decent human beings in the world.  Characters: Jensen Ackles, Misha Collins, Sami (OFC), Plus Size!Reader Pairing: Jensen x Plus Size!Reader Warnings: Angst/Fluff/Smut/Body Image Distortion Word Count: 9256 A/N: Again, me working through my feels. Thank you for allowing me to do so.

My chest tightened. Jaw clenched until my teeth hurt. My body rigid and frozen as panic flowed through my veins. The overly friendly, new teacher had her arms outstretched towards me. If I had been a normal person, I would gladly hold my arms out as well embracing her kindness and affection.

I was not normal.

“Hey Katy!” My partner teacher and best friend, Sami, headed her off by stepping in front of me and taking the hit of affection.

There was a special place in Heaven for Sami and if not, I would fight God themselves to make it so. I could see Sami whispering to Katy and a nod of acknowledgement told me I would not have to worry about her advancements again.

“Sorry (Y/N), I didn’t know you weren’t a hugger. How about a high five?” Her sweet gesture had my trembling hand stretching out to her as she quickly slapped it with her own.

Only Sami could see my flinch from the physical touch of someone. Everyone else summed it up to my quirky personality and weird aversion to being touched. Thankfully our English department meeting was over and I could escape to the safe haven of my car. Sami was close behind me waving goodbye to everyone.

I bumped my shoulder to hers as she was the only one I had no problem with minor touching, “Thank you for taking that hug for me.”

She laughed, “You’re lucky I’m a friendly and huggy person. Hey, I meant to ask you before school today, but how is counseling going?”

I cringed, averting my gaze from her, “It’s… going fine.”

She stopped me with a tap on my shoulder, “The truth, please.”

I sighed as my shoulders slumped in defeat, “I stopped going,” I saw the incoming assault in her narrowing sky colored eyes.

“(Y/N)! You were making such good progress with this counselor. I was even able to give you a one arm hug.” The disappointment in her voice weighed my shoulders down even more.

I leaned against my car pulling on the sleeves of my hoodie, “I know, I know. She had me go to one of her support groups and everyone had to hug someone. I… I just couldn’t. I tried three or four times going to the group and I failed every time.”

My eyes fell to the ground, disgust filling my mind, “Yes, you really are as pathetic as you’re sounding.” My inner voice snarked.

I heard Sami sigh, “It’s okay. We can work through it together. We can keep doing everything you liked from her and work at your pace.”

Looking up, I forced my lips into a small smile to appease my only real life friend, “That sounds good. Thanks Sami for putting up with me.”

I made my way home to a small ranch style home that was off the beaten path. My grandparents had left it to me knowing I would love the seclusion of it. It was my Fortress of Solitude. The only living thing, other than Sami, to be able to snuggle with me was Charlie the cat. The copper Main Coon was sitting by the door awaiting my arrival.

My evenings were always the same. Check in with my mom for an hour on the phone. Make or order dinner, which tonight was ordering pizza for the leftovers tomorrow. Turning on my favorite TV show, Supernatural, on Netflix and working on one of my millions of fanfics.

“Yes, stay in complete denial by hiding in your fantasy worlds and falling in love with fictional characters. Loser.”

I pushed my inner thoughts to the very back of my mind and focused on my current series I was writing. Pulling up Tumblr, I looked in my notifications seeing someone binge reading my masterlist. My heart always swelled with joy whenever someone took the time to read my writings. This person was also leaving feedback as well.

“ChevyMan67: I love this version of Dean! You truly have captured his personality and sarcasm.”

“ChevyMan67: I can’t get enough of this series! Please tell me there is more to come. I need to know if Dean finally falls in love and gets his apple pie life.”

I read through every comment and looked at every GIF the reader posted. I hit follow on his blog then took a few screenshots from my activity page, pulling up a blank post adding the pictures.

“Thank you to @ChevyMan67 for binging my stories! Your feedback means everything to me!”

As soon as I posted it there was a notification of a reblog from him. He posted a GIF of Dean screaming with #Fangirling flashing underneath. My cheeks ached from the unusual tension of a genuine smile spreading across my face.

Online I could be anyone I wanted. I would virtual hug and blow kisses at my friends. I was able to be more like the woman I was. Social, happy, carefree, open to others. I could be the woman I desperately wanted to be but my mind would not allow.

“Stay guarded. Remember what happened when you trusted him? Trusted his family? Never again. You promised never again.”

My indeed guard held the line at the gate of my mind. She stood in full armor and shield ready to throw off anyone that even attempted to break through to the part of me that desired to be a whole person again. I shook my head with a firm nod and reaffirmed my promise to myself to never let anyone that close to me again.

As I was closing down her computer for the evening, a ding caught my attention as a message came from Tumblr. Opening the window, I saw a DM from my newest follower.

“Hey there, I just wanted to say thank you for following me. Apparently I’m a rarity on here for being male and a fan of Supernatural. I truly love all your writings and can’t wait to read more. Hopefully, we can get to know each other better and become friends. Anyway, I’ll leave you alone. Message me any time. Goodnight.”

I re-read the message several times before closing my computer. Sure I had people message me for small talk and a few close friends I had on there. This felt different. Something deep within me sparked and I did not know how to react. There was only one person I knew I could go to and her reaction was more frightening than the thought of responding to ChevyMan67. That night was the first of many restless nights for me.

A week later, I finally sat down and responded to him.

“Hey, I’m sorry it took me so long to respond. I’m… well, I’m not used to talking to guys here. I think it’s great that you’re on here and reading, BTW. I’m working on a few pieces right now, maybe you could beta for me if you have time. I hope we can be friends as well. Have a good weekend!”

I was nearly hyperventilating when I hit enter sending the message. I tried to work on my newest one shot story and ignore my anxious heart awaiting for the ding. It was not until I was in bed watching my favorite episode of Supernatural that my phone chimed.

“Tumblr: Message from ChevyMan67”

My finger hovered for a moment before opening the app. The message opened and I let out a air I had been holding in my chest.

“No worries. Everyone is busy and has their “real life” to attend too. I work odd hours and days all the time so I get it. I would LOVE to beta for you!!!! Reading your work before it’s posted online? HELL YEAH! I feel honored you asked and I’m fanboying hard right now. Crap… that sounded… I mean. Sorry lol. You can send your fics to ChevyMan67@gmail.com. Looking forward to hearing from you again.”

Over the next six months, Ross and I talked throughout our days getting to know one another. Three month into Tumblr messenger and dumb updates, he gave me his cell number to text one another. At times, I would have to catch myself from laughing while my students took a test. Everyone around me started to notice the small changes in me. Smiling more, talking more and one student commented on me wearing bright colors.

“You look good in yellow Miss (Y/L/N).”

However it was Sami who demanded to know all about the changes going on with me. We sat at our favorite restaurant, the first round of drinks being set in front of us. After the waiter took our order, Sami began her interrogation.

“Tell. Me. Everything. You’ve been keeping me at bay and I’ve respected your space, but you have seemingly blossomed in the last few months. Spill.”

I bit my lower lip as my phone sounded with an all to familiar chime. I went to grab my phone when Sami placed her hand over it, “Me first. Tumblr second.”

“It’s not Tumblr. Let me reply to him and then I will tell you everything.” I dared to look up to see my best friend’s face frozen in shock.

Her eyes wide and mouth gaping, “Him?!”

I nodded reading Ross’s message, “Hey I know you’re out with Sami and going to tell her about little ole me. I just wanted to make sure you were still thinking about what I asked last night. Can’t wait to hear from you soon. Not now though, have fun with Sami.”

I smiled, locking my phone and putting it in my purse looking back to my ridiculously happy friend, “His name is Ross.”

There was a loud, attention grabbing squeal from her as I shushed her, “Leave out no details…” she rested her perfect chin on her folded hands.

I told her all about Ross and how we began talking. I told her everything I knew about him and what he knew about me. Finally, as our food came out and drinks were refilled, I told her about what he had dropped on me the previous night.

“He asked me to meet him at the Supernatural Convention in Dallas next month. He already has the passes paid for and a few photo ops that we could share.” My heart raced at the thought of meeting Ross and meeting my favorite celebrities all at the same time.

Sami’s smile faded slightly, “Does he know about your struggles with being touched?”

I nodded, “It was one of the first personal things I told him. He’s still talking to me so I took that as a frightening good sign.”

“What are you feeling?” her point blank question shook me for a moment.

My fingers drummed against the table, “I’m nervous, scared, anxious…” I paused for a moment before looking up at her with a smile.

“I’m also excited, hopeful and curious.”

Sami held out her hands to me, palms up and I hesitantly placed my hands in hers. It was something we had been working on for the last couple of months. This was the first time I allowed her to squeeze my hands.

“You really like him.” She whispered smiling like a fool.

I felt my own smile mirroring hers, “Yes I do and that scares me shitless.”

The rest of the evening felt like the old days before my life fell apart. When I got home, I decided to test my luck. Pulling up Ross’s number, my thumb hovered over it until I smashed it hearing it ringing.

“Well hello, this is a surprise.” His velvety smooth voice sent shivers down my body, “Take a deep breath and know it’s okay if you hang up to just text me.”

“N-No, I’ll be okay.” I stammered as he let out a low chuckle.

I could hear him moving away from other voices around him, “I interrupted something…” Guilt and shame weighing my shoulders down.

“Not at all. They can wait, you calling me is an important moment. Not everyday, I get to speak to my favorite writer on the phone.” His compliments calmed my queasy stomach, “Could I be so hopeful that this phone call is working up to a good answer?”

I took a deep breath in and let out slowly, “Yes.” The word seems foregin to her as it left my lips.

“Yes I can be hopeful or yes to my question?” His jovial banter eased the tension in my shoulders.

“Yes.” I tried to sound a little more confident, my heart beating against my chest.

There was a moment of silence before loud cheering and yelling came through her speaker. His excitement was silenced by my own unfamiliar laughter. Suddenly I was hyper aware that he was no longer making any noises. Panic and fear swelling inside me.

A soft sigh came from him, “You have a beautiful laugh. I can’t wait to hear it again.”

My cheeks burned, “Thank you.”

Ross told me he would send all the details for our trip and that I was not to worry about money of any kind. Mentally, I began planning out how to save as much money as I could in the next four weeks. Thankfully, my savings was built up enough to take a small hit and not dip into her emergency fund. Over the next several weeks, I began to prepare for my first convention, first time meeting an online friend, first time traveling by myself, first time facing the unknown in five years.

The morning of my travel day, I went over to Sami’s house with Charlie. I was surprised to see her sister sitting there. She waved to me before taking Charlie’s crate.

“What’s going on?” I looked around seeing Sami’s suitcase packed by the door.

She smiled, “Your friend Ross, reached out to me.”

The color from my face drained for a moment, “H-He did… How?”

“He found me on your Instagram page. DM me asking me to join you on your trip. Stating and I quote, ‘I know you being there with (Y/N) will make her more comfortable. I want this weekend to go as comfortably as possible for her. I know it’s a big step and I want her to be taken care of.’”

She smiled softly as my vision blurred from tears slipping down my face, “Oh… wow.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty amazing (Y/N/N). If you were ever going to work on overcoming your touch aversion this would be the man to do it for.” Sami turned around to help her sister, leaving me to my own thoughts.

“Absolutely not! There is no way he is getting through my defenses. I have held strong for five years. Your heart and mind are safe within my holds.”

“Do you really think he’s going to want to touch you? Look at yourself. Lumpy. Chunky. Squishy. Dull (Y/C/H) hair. Boring (Y/C/E) eyes. Not even a decent pair of boobs or ass. You’re nothing special. Always remember that you’re nothing special.”

“(Y/N)? (Y/N) stop it.” Sami’s voice rang clear bringing me back to the present.

I nodded slowly, “Sorry. I zoned out.”

“Freaked out. We will work through it. Sara is gonna drive us to the airport and we have an hour to chat. Okay?”

It was in the moment that I noticed my best friend had absentmindedly placed her hand on my shoulder and I did not flinch. My eyes looked to her hand and back to her, “You’re touching my shoulder.”

“Crap, I’m so sor…” she started to say but my bright smile stopped her, “What?”

I placed my hand on top of hers, “I didn’t flinch or move or even notice you did it.”

Now her smile was matching mine and we had a moment of pure excitement jumping around each other. True to her word, we spent the hour on the plane doing some meditative exercises. I thanked every high power who would listen for my best friend getting her psychology degree.

There was a man waiting with our names on a piece of paper. He took our bags and drove us to a  hotel near where the convention was being held. Sami checked us in since there were so many people inside and my anxiety started to flare up.

Breathe in counting to six. Breathe out counting to six.

I repeated my breathing exercise until Sami returned her brow furrowed, “What is it?”

“I don’t know who Ross knows, but he must be connected in some way. We have a suite on the fourteenth floor.”

My jaw dropped slightly before I stood up bracing myself for the next hurdle of getting through the elevator ride. Luckily, there were only two other girls in the car and I could safely keep my distance from them.

“I heard that Jensen is staying at this hotel.” One mentioned as the other rolled her eyes.

“Yeah right. This is Dallas, I’m sure he’s probably staying with his family or something.”

The girls exit on the eighth floor and before the doors could close Sami and I were chuckling to ourselves. The chances of Jensen Ackles staying at this hotel would be astronomical. The car dinged for the top floor and opened to a small hallway. When we opened the door to our suite neither of us spoke.

Sami walked throughout the entire room before I could even move from the entryway, “This room is amazing! Check out the view we have (Y/N).”

“Hold on. Having a moment.” I breathed as Sami came to my side and I held my hand out, “I’m fine. Just need a moment to make sure this is real and not a dream.”

I watched as she walked over to the coffee table where there was a gift basket and she held up a small notecard, “Oh it’s real.”

“(Y/N) and Sami, I hope you love your room. Enjoy your night and order anything you want. The front desk knows it’s all on my tab. I’m hoping you both will join me for dinner tomorrow night after registration. Sadly, my job won’t let me leave before then. I look forward to meeting you both. -R PS: I highly recommend the spa and they have a large private jacuzzi just for you, (Y/N).”

Sami sighed, “I really hope he has a single brother, cousin, friend that is like him for me.”

I rolled my eyes walking over to the large windows looking out. Flashes of the last time I was in Dallas popping into my mind. I shivered as the one voice I hated yelled loudly in my ears. My hands covered them and I felt Sami tap my shoulder twice. For the first time, in several years, I reached out to her and gripped her arms.

“(Y/N) remember why we’re here. Remember talking with Ross on the phone. The tone of Ross’s voice. His laughter.” Her calm tone eased me out of the wretched memory.

She guided me over to the couch and went to get me a glass of water. I sipped it slowly before squeezing her hand, “Thank you.”

“You know, I can get used to you reaching out to me. Feels like the (Y/N) I knew coming back.” Sami squeezed my hand back before I let slip from her grasp.

She was right, the woman I once was before my ex was fighting her way to get out again. Still, my guard was up standing fortified at the gate.

That evening was a girls’ night of epic proportions. They went to the spa where (Y/N) sat in her private jacuzzi while Sami received the best massage of her life. Afterwards, we ordered our dinner from room service making moderate choices since neither of us were paying. When our food came there was a special dessert also with another note.

“A little birdy told me that your favorite dessert was French Silk pie. I wanted you to have a slice and some New York Style cheesecake for Sami. Have a wonderful night.”

Sami whistled, “Man, he has it bad for you.”

“Shut up.” I muttered lifting the dome to see a delicious slice of pie.

As they ate and talked, Sami took my phone taking pictures of them enjoying a very Sam and Dean style dinner. Sami having a Chef’s salad with honey mustard dressing. I took a picture of my dinner sending it to Ross with a text saying thank you.

“Dean would be proud! That bacon cheeseburger looks good. Enjoy!”

I smiled the entire time I ate my burger. Finishing out meals, Sami hooked up her laptop putting on Supernatural. I decided to try and work on some stories when a terrifying thought crossed my mind. I looked up to the screen as Dean began to talk. I closed my eyes listening carefully to his voice. The low tone and smoothness of it. It was the way he said the word writer that had my eyes snapping open and a gasp escaping my lips.

“What? What is it?” Sami sat up concerning filling her eyes.

Like pieces to a puzzle everything snapped into place. All the small details that would go unnoticed by someone who would never expect it. Sami tapped my shoulder and I turned to her with wide eyes.

“Ross… that’s Jensen’s middle name.” I mumbled reaching for my phone.

Sami stood up pausing the episode, “Okay… what are you getting at.”

“Listen.” I played for her the voicemail he had left a few days earlier, “Now play the episode.”

Sami’s eyes connected to her, “No way.”

“Ross is Jensen Ackles.”

That night my dreams were filled with my ex yelling at me. Fat shaming me. Calling me a loser. Calling me useless for not being able to bear children. His looming form made me coward into a ball on the floor. I woke up several times during the night, the final time close to six in the morning. Sami was peacefully sleeping on her side of the bed.

I picked up my phone going into the living area and dialing the all too familiar number. On the third ring she was going to hang up, but then his groggy voice pierced my ears.

“(Y/N), is everything alright?” All I could hear was Dean, which meant that it was truly Jensen on the other side.

“You tell me, Jensen.” I heard him sit up as I began to pace near the window.

A long sigh came from him, “I knew you would figure it out before meeting me.”

I scoffed, “Is this some kind of celebrity joke or prank? Pretend to be someone’s friend and embarrass them when they meet you.”

My guard was shaking her head muttering, “Told you so…”

“No, (Y/N) it’s nothing like that. Misha had read some of your stories and suggested I should read them. At first, I thought it would be weird because I’ve never read fanfiction before, but your writing… it drew me in.” His words came out all in one breath.

I froze, “M-Misha read my stories? Oh god…” My body burned from embarrassment.

“Honestly, there’s not a person on our crew that hasn’t read at least one of your stories. You’re talented and the way you write for the boys is amazing. Our own writer’s are impressed with your talent.”

I groaned slumping down to the floor, “This was all a mistake.” The last thing I heard before ending the call was rustling around as if Jensen was moving from his bed.

My phone slipped from my hand as tears streamed down my face. I closed my eyes allowing my inner voices to consume me. Dragging me down into the darkness.

“You fool! Here I stood guarding you from this and still you allowed someone in. You deserve what is coming to you!”

“You useless piece of nothing! You’re the biggest joke this world ever created. Fat, ugly, even your body can’t do the one basic thing god made it to do. You’re worthless. Sucking up air that could be used on someone contributing to the world. No matter what anyone says you will always be the biggest failure in this world. You. Are. Nothing.”

I felt someone tapping on my shoulder and I tightened myself into a ball, “Go away Sami.”

The tapping continued and I reached out grasping an unfamiliar hand. My eyes snapped open and were met with concerning, piercing olive eyes. The eyes I stared at for hours on my TV. The eyes I wrote about in hundreds of thousands of words online.

As soon as my eyes opened he withdrew his hand and my heart sank further into darkness, “I told you. He will never want to touch your disgusting body.” The snide voice of my inner self whispered.

“(Y/N), please hear me out. Please for five minutes just listen to my side.” He sat across from me leaving a foot of distance between us.

I nodded looking up as Sami gently touched his shoulder, “I will be just outside if you need me.”

He waited for the door to close to start talking. His large hands rubbing against his cotton covered thighs.

“I started reading your masterlist on Tumblr and couldn’t get enough of your stories. I didn’t know exactly how to work Tumblr so Misha showed me how. I noticed you don’t get a lot of notes and I wanted everyone to notice you. I started sharing your work with everyone after sending you that message.”

He paused for a moment as I fidget with the hem of my shirt, “Why did you message me?”

His smile was more radiant in person, “It’s just as I said. I loved your work and I wanted to be friends. However, the more I got to know you… the more I wanted to meet you in person. I knew that would be problematic.”

“Yeah, you could say that.” I scoffed looking down to my hands.

He inhaled a deep breath, “You connect with Dean Winchester the same way I do. To find someone like that is a once in a lifetime chance. I want someone who I can gush over Dean with because soon I won’t be hanging out with him as much and he’s the best imaginary friend I’ve ever had.”

Seeing Jensen open himself up to me was creating a battle of mind and body within me. He was just as nervous as I was to open up to someone else. Suddenly, I did not feel so alone in my isolation. My hand trembled as I reached over placing it atop of his.

“Dean Winchester saved my life and I don’t mean that figuratively. I was on the verge of leaping into darkness when I found him getting Sammy to find their dad. I found the strength to carry on because I knew that was what Dean would do. I found that being broken wasn’t a bad thing but something that could drive you to keep working. Dean helped me to feel again when I had become numb to the world around me.”

His eyes shined as I spoke trying to hold back his own tears, “I’m glad he could be there for you when you needed him the most.”

“Then you came into my life when I least expected it.” I whispered as I squeezed his hand.

My mind was screaming at me to get as far away from him as I possibly could. To call out to Sami to make him leave and move out of the state disappearing from the world. However, my body was urging me to jump into his arms. To open myself up to him as he had done with me. I felt like a spring coil ready to snap. My mind was holding my body back waiting for my consciousness to make a decision.

And she did.

I launched myself into his arms startling him as we crashed to the floor. His arms instinctively wrapped around me as mine encircled his neck. The door flew open as Sami came rushing in as Jensen’s laughter filled the room. I hugged him tighter to me as he tightened his grip around me.

“Oh my god… (Y/N), you’re hugging him.”

I did not need to open my eyes to know tears were slipping down my best friend’s cheeks. Her voice was thick with utter joy and amazement.

“Does this hug mean that you don’t hate me?” His question caught me off guard.

Jensen’s hands kept me in place as he sat up swinging my legs across his. My arms are still around his neck not wanting to lose the connection. Now that my body was against his, it flooded with the strange feeling of desire. Sami joined them on the floor sitting cross legged in front of them.

“I don’t think I could ever hate you. Though I’m still upset you lied to me.” I rested my head on my arm and against the side of his neck.

Feeling him sigh and seeing Sami grinning, I knew this was a big moment for all of us. We sat on the floor for another hour talking before Jensen had to go back to his room to get ready for the day. Neither of us wanted to let go of the other. He hugged me one last time before walking out of the suite. When I turned around I was immediately engulfed into another hug.

“I’m so proud of you!” Sami squealed.

“Thanks, I think…” My sentence drifted and she pulled away from me.

I walked back toward the bed and flopped face first onto it. I felt her crawl up on the bed beside me knowing me well enough to give me space.

“Talk it out, (Y/N). What are you feeling?”

My cheeks burned from the first feeling to pop into my head, “I feel warm, anxious, happy...” I paused gathering the courage to say the last word, “desire.”

“I’m sorry, what was that last one?” Sami eagerly asked.

I sat up, “Desire.” Saying the very word felt weird.

She began to clap and raised her hands in the air, “Praise the lord!”

“Don’t get all weird about it. I don’t know what any of this means. My body is tingling…”

Sami interrupted, “I bet it does…”

“Shut up, mostly not in that way. I don’t know how to act around other people anymore. What is too much touching? What is too little? What does a hug mean? I have too many questions and all the answers just walked out the door.”

I looked over as my phone chimed seeing a message from Ross, “I guess I need to change that now.” I murmured as I pulled up his message.

“First, thank you for trusting me with a hug. It means the world to me. I wanted to know if you wanted to have an early lunch with me? We could eat in my room or restaurant or your room with Sami. Whatever you are most comfortable with. Let me know.”

I held my phone up for Sami to read and she jumped off the bed, “You can have our room. I will go entertain myself by the pool.”

I texted him back that he could come to my room as Sami began tossing clothes out on the bed, “What are you doing?”

“Finding you the perfect outfit. Now go shower so I can play dress up with you.” She clapped her hands excitedly as I groaned loudly.

Looking in the mirror again, I pulled at the shirt clingy to every soft, round surface of my waist. I pushed my stomach watching as it bounced back into place like jello. Turning to the side, I sucked as many rolls as I could inward, holding my breath. The air rushed from my lips as a knock came from the door. Making my way towards it, I grabbed my zip-up hoodie slipping my arms in it quickly.

“Hi.” The word came out more breathlessly than I wanted.

My inner voice whispering, “Yeah fatty, let him know that walking across the room makes you lose your breath.”

“Hey there, I hope you don’t mind that I went ahead and grabbed lunch for us.” Jensen held up a paper bag from a local sandwich spot.

As he walked in, I took a moment to truly admire him. He looked like a male model in his tight dark jeans, black boots, dark olive Henley and sunglasses resting on top of his unruly, sandy brown hair. His smooth voice caught my attention.

“You could take a picture and it would last longer.” He chuckled sitting down on the couch and laying out their lunch.

I sat on the opposite side of him as far away as I could. Even though my body desperately wanted to be closer to him, I kept my distance not pushing my mental capacity. He glanced over a hint of disappointment in his eyes seeing me so far away.

Jensen slid a sandwich towards me, “I remember you telling me that you love ham and swiss with tomato.”

“Thank you.” I unwrapped the sandwich and grabbed a bag of chips.

We ate in silence as a strange tension built between us. My stomach churning to the point I could no longer eat. I would look over to him out of the corner of my eye to find his eyes drifting over me. I wrapped my hoodie around me instinctively trying to hide the imperfections.

“There’s no hoodie big enough to hide your ugliness.” The familiar voice whispered.

I shook my head when I heard music playing, looking back to Jensen. He smiled sheepishly as he set his phone on the table.

“I thought maybe some background noise would help,” He stood up clearing the food from the table then stood in front of me with his hand out, “Trust me?”

His eyes were shining from the afternoon rays of sun coming from the window and his lips were spread in a gentle smile. I exhaled slowly allowing all the tension to leave my body and placed my hand in his. He pulled me up from the couch taking my hands and placing them behind his neck. His large hands slid down my sides to my hips and I flinched.

“You do know that you’re beautiful, right?” He whispered swaying my body with the music.

I shook my head, “I’m really not. Ordinary at best.”

Jensen lifted my chin, piercing (Y/C/E) meeting , “You are far from ordinary, (Y/N).”

“You’re just being kind.” I looked away as he slowly turned us in a circle.

The music continued but Jensen stopped moving, “I have so many questions but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or have you running to the hills.”

“Questions for me? Surely, you have better things to do with your time other than sitting inside with me. Don’t you have fans to entertain?” I smirked.

He chuckled, “Lucky for you, I happen to have the day off. I normally spend the day with my family. However this year they all ditched me.”

I mockingly acted shocked, “Oh no! You poor thing.”

His eyes narrowed in on me before laughing, “My mom and dad are somewhere in Spain enjoying their anniversary gift. My sister decided a girls trip with her best friends was better than hanging with me for the day. My brother is always busy with his family. You’re stuck with me.”

“I guess there’s worse ways to spend my day. Okay, ask away but I’m not promising I’ll answer them all.”

Jensen led me back to the couch, but kept ahold of my hand as we sat back down. He laced his long fingers with mine. His thumb brushing over my knuckle. I settled back against the couch once again wrapping my hoodie around me.

“What were you thinking when I put my hands on your hips earlier?”

I bit my lower lip, “I was mortified that you were touching my squish rolls of skin. I was thinking you must be disgusted by it.”

“Wow…” He squeezed my hand, “Whoever he was he really did a number on you. If I ask his name and address would you be against me and Jared beating the crap out of him?”

A genuine burst of laughter echoed in the room, “He’s really not worth it. Plus, he is much happier with his life now and that’s all that matters. He deserves to be happy.”

I was surprised to see Jensen face scrunched up in anger, “But you don’t?” He leaned in slightly, his features softening.

“No, I don’t.” The words came out without even a second thought and seeing Jensen recoil from them as if they had slapped him in the face twisted my heart.

His tongue darted out over his lips and the electrical energy between us sparked wildly, “You’re wrong. You deserve all the happiness in the world. Any man who told you otherwise is no man at all.”

He was leaning in closer, his eyes never leaving mine. My heart pounding in my ears and my body urging me to meet him in the middle. His forehead pressed against mine and his nose caressed mine.

“I’m going to kiss you.” he whispered.

“I don’t think I remember how to kiss back.” The pathetic confession was followed by a wayward tear slipping down my cheek.

His soft, full lips pressed gently against mine. My mind searched for the file within the long abandoned cabinets for how to kiss someone. He pulled away for a split second only to return his lips to mine. I found my lips pushing against his out of basic instinct. Our lips melded together for a moment before I felt him smile against mine.

His hands cupping my face, “I think it will all come back to you easier than you may think.”

I took in a deep breath letting it out in a short burst, “I think you believe in me too much for only meeting me a few hours ago.”

Jensen was still holding my face as he leaned back, “Other than Jared and Mish, I have never felt closer to anyone, but you.”

“You have your work cut out for you then,” I pointed to my head, “because it’s a nightmarish mess up in here.”

He leaned in kissing me once again, “You are worth every second of being with you because you’re stunning, smart, talented, caring and most of all you’re beautiful inside and out.”

I stared up at him speechless as my inner guard laid down her shield, “I like this one.”

“No… no one has ever said that about me. I-I don’t know what to say or how to react.” I stammered, unable to comprehend what he said.

He smiled widely, “Get used to that feeling because I’m preparing for you to feel that way a lot. Now, I don’t want to test your boundaries too much so I think we should hang out here and watch a movie.”

Jensen moved to the end of the couch resting his arm along the back of it and propping his feet on the table. For the first time in forever, there were no inner voices to keep me from doing what I desperately wanted. I moved over next to him resting my back into his side and stretching my legs out to the other end of the couch. His arm draped over the front of my chest and his fingertips brushed against my side.

This time there was no flinching and I smiled at the small victory.

The rest of the weekend was like a dream. Seeing the convention backstage, meeting all the rest of the other actors on the show and most of all Jensen’s constant touch comforted me throughout it all. Sami beaming with pride as I pushed myself to be in the crowd for the concert on Saturday. When Sunday came, I found myself riddled with sadness knowing I would have to leave this magical weekend behind.

Sami had decided to go back to the hotel while I waited for Jensen to finish his autographs. I had noticed Clif, the boys’ friend and bodyguard, staying close by me. When the last fan left the autograph room, he motioned for me to follow him. Entering the room, I found Jensen with his head down on his table while Jared and Misha were fooling around at theirs.

Walking up, I slid my hands over his shoulders and began rubbing the knots out of them. A small groan escaping his lips sent a wave of desire over my body. I moved my hands down his back eagerly wanting to hear him again.

“Hey, if you’re giving free massages away I’ll take one!” Jared called out.

Jensen’s head snapped up, “Don’t even think about it Padalecki. Her hands are too precious for your sweaty self.”

I chuckled as he stood up letting my hands drift down his back. I knew he was fit but his body was firm and lean in all the right spots. As he moved away I found my fingers stretching out to touch him again. All weekend I had found myself craving his touch. My mind was obsessively thinking about his hand in mine or my arms around his waist or his hands gripping my hips. My cheeks felt like they were on fire and I heard him chuckle.

“You okay? You kind of spaced out for a moment.”

I nodded smiling, “I’m great. Just thinking was all.”

“Well come on, you and I can grab something to eat then hang out in my room.” His arm slipped around my shoulders and instantly I relaxed into his embrace.

Dinner was unexpectedly crashed by Jared and Misha tagging along. We found a twenty-four hours diner near the hotel that was nearly empty and we all spent a few hours talking, laughing. I could not help the sadness creeping over me as the minutes passed by. Minutes I was losing to have Jensen to myself. As if he read my mind he excused us to head back to the hotel.

We walked in silence, hand in hand. Stepping into the elevator, he pulled me into his side and I wrapped my arms around his waist. His room was on the opposite end of the same hall as mine. Stepping inside, the door clicking shut as we stood across from one another. It was like a shotgun going off as Jensen closed the distance between us. His hands sliding down my body as his mouth crashed to mine.

As suddenly as it happened, it was over.

“I’m sorry… shit. (Y/N) I’m really sorry.” His pleads confused me for a moment.

Breathing heavily as he stepped back further from me I blurted out, “W-Why are you apologizing? D-Did I do something wrong?”

His dark forest eyes snapped up, “You do something… you didn’t do anything but be you, (Y/N). I just couldn’t stop myself. This weekend has been the best one in my life. Being around you, holding your hand, kissing you has rejuvenated me. I just want more of you, all of you. Simple looks you give, the way you hold yourself and the moment you open yourself up to reach out to me. I just found myself unable to hold back anymore. I know…”

This time it was me who closed the distance between us. My lips crashing into his. My hands running up his broad chest and into his soft hair. The soft moan escaping my lips as we parted.

“I want you to have me…” I whispered in between breaths, “I’m nervous with a bunch of what ifs running in my head.”

“Do you trust me?” The corner of his lip curling upward.

“Yes.”

Jensen took my hand leading me into the bedroom of his suite. He gently picked me up and sat me on the bed. He knelt in front of me, slipping my shoes from my feet then pulling my socks off. His thumbs pressing into the bottom of my feet as I began to giggle.

“Oh… now that is an amazing sound. I must hear that again.” He smirked, tickling my feet.

I fell back in a fit of giggles as Jensen’s laughter joined mine. I leaned up on my elbows looking down at Jensen resting his chin on my knee. He lifted his brows asking permission and I nodded. His hands drifted over my calves, up to my knees and over my thighs.

“You have incredible legs. I found myself staring at them as you would walk in front of me with Sami. Wondering how they would feel beneath my hands.” He gently squeezed them near my hips.

His knee pressed into the mattress between my legs as his firm body hovered over mine. My fingers brushed against the hem of his shirt pushing it up and hesitantly touching his stomach. Jensen sucked in a quick breath as his hands paused on his hips. I focused on the feeling of his smooth, warm skin beneath my fingertips. His flat stomach is surprisingly soft.  

I grasped the end of his shirt pulling it towards his head as he pulled back allowing it over his head. Taking it from my hands, he tossed it on the floor. I took in every inch of his skin from his muscles flexing to the freckles decorating it.

“You beautiful, you know that?” I did not think he heard me until I saw the smug smirk on his face.

He leaned down kissing me, “Stealing my lines, sweetheart.”

His hands went back to my hips as his lips left a trail of kisses down my neck, “You think that your softness is revolting, but I find it inviting.”

I froze as his hand pushed up into my shirt touching my stomach. I squirmed as he pushed my shirt up just under my bra. My hands threading through his hair as his lips pressed small kisses against my stomach.

“Jensen…” The tension in my tone caught his attention.

His eyes filled with worry, “Too much?”

I took a few deep breaths and shook my head, “I’m fine, promise.”

“See there you go, being brave and pushing yourself. You have no idea how sexy that is.” He murmured against my skin.

As Jensen’s mouth neared the waistband of my jeans, I tugged his hair motioning for him to come back up to her. He smiled randomly kissing spots along my body. His lips finally met mine as I slid my arms around him. His tongue swiped across my bottom lip as they parted for him. His gentleness and care to make me comfortable broke down the last existing wall of defense.

Their kiss deepened. My body burned with a need to feel Jensen’s skin against mine and to be close to him in every way physically possible. Foreign pressure began to simmer deep within me and I lifted my hips pressing them against his thigh.

He pulled away his eyes blown with passion searching mine for an answer to a silent question.

“Please… take away everything he did. I want to feel whole again.” I pleaded just above a whisper.

His lips were on mine again as he gently lifted me up further onto his bed. Sitting up, I pulled my shirt over my head holding it in front of me for a brief moment. His eyes watching my every move as I tossed it over the side. He reached behind me with one hand unclasping my bra in one swift movement.

I kissed his collarbone as he leaned in to do so, “Show off.”

He chuckled before leaning back and allowing me at my pace to unveiling my bare chest to him. I slid the straps down my arms holding it in place before playfully tossing it at him chuckling. Joking had always been my way of dealing with uncomfortable moments. When I looked up his eyes were drifting down my bare upper body.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He smirked as I rolled my eyes at him, “Seriously, (Y/N)... you’re absolutely stunning.”

He ran his hand down my chest, between my breasts and down to my jeans. He undid the button and slowly drew down the zipper. Hooking his fingers with a belt loops dragging my jeans down my legs. I shivered as the cool air hit my skin. Jensen tossed them off to the side then began to place gentle, open mouth kisses up my leg.

My breaths were coming out in small little puffs the further up my leg he got. His mouth hovered over her cotton cover mound inching closer to it. My teeth dug into my lip desperately wanting him to press them against me. Instead he kept his path up my body stopping at my breasts. He cupped the side of one running his thumb over my nipple.

A long sigh escaping my lips from just the slightest touch from him, “O-Oh… Jensen…” His mouth had gently suckled my other nipple, the pressure turning to an ache between my legs.

“You have no idea hearing my name from your lips does to me.” He softly said before circling my nipple with his tongue.

Feeling bold, I slid my hand down between us running it along the hard bulge being restrained by denim. Jensen sucked in a sharp breath dropping his head between my breasts, “Shit…”

“I believe I have some kind of an idea.” I smiled as he grinded himself against my palm.

He stood up at the edge of the bed, his intense stare making me tremble with anticipation. Leaning forward, his fingers hooked the sides of her cotton panties and pulled them down until they were on the floor.

“Exquisite, flawless, perfect.”

“As are you.” I sat up until I was sitting on the edge in front of him.

My hands trembled as I unbuttoned his jeans and carefully unzipped them. Jensen let out a soft hiss as I brushed against his length. His hands cupped my face pulling my lips to his urgently kissing me. I pushed his jeans and boxers down as far as I could before he pushed me back onto the mattress. His hand drifting down my body until his fingers pressed against my folds.

“Jensen, please…” I begged needing to feel any kind of relief from the pressure pulsating from between my legs, “Ohhh… god.”

Jensen began to rub lazy circles against my clit. My hips grinding against his hand as his lips pressed just below my ear, “Are you okay?”

His question sober me from the drunken stupor of desire and I placed my hand over his pushing down further, “More than okay.”

Jensen pushed one long finger deep inside me with a hiss, “Fuck pretty girl, your so tight.” He slowly pushed a second finger inside.

My head pressed against the mattress, my back arching as he pumped his thick fingers in me, “More, oh please Jensen, I need more.”

His pace picked up and I looked up to his face. His eyes wide and dark watching me come undone as his thumb rubbed harshly against my throbbing clit, “Jensen!” I cried out overwhelming pleasure wrecked through my body.

Breathing heavily, my body shaking slightly as he pulled his fingers from me, “Now that was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

A slow grin spread across my face as I pulled his mouth to mine. He positioned himself between my legs pulling away slightly, his lips grazing against mine.  

“Are you sure? We can stop if you want.” Jensen’s tone was tense as I felt his length resting against my folds.

I kissed him, “I need you. All of you.”

He braced himself up with one arm as his hand slipped between us. Jensen ran the swollen head along my slickness before nudging it against my entrance. The room filled with groans and heavy breaths as Jensen slowly sheathed himself within me. There was a singe of pain as I stretched taking him his thick length but quickly was replaced with immense pleasure as he thrusted gently into me.

“So. Tight.” He panted against my cheek.

I wrapped my arms and legs around him digging my heels into him. Each stroke pushing me further to the edge. Feeling every muscle straining along his back and arms. His head buried in the crook of my neck grunting almost painfully. I knew then he was holding back.

I pressed my lips to his ear, “Jensen, I won’t break. You’re making me feel incredible, but I want you to let go. Show me how I make you feel.”

A low growl rumbled from his chest as he nipped at my neck and his hips snapped against me. The echoes of our skin meeting, loving praises and the headboard against the wall filled the room. I started to meet each thrust of his, the coil within me ready to snap. His hands were gripping my shoulders holding me against his burning body. I clung to him scraping my nails against his back making him growl again.

“Shit Jensen, I’m so close. Just a little more, oh god please!” I beg as he thrusted into me feverishly small grunts coming from him, “Yes, yes, oh… Jensen!”

My whole body was shaking as an intense wave of euphoria covered me. Pulsating around him, he abandoned all control chasing his own release.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He gritted his teeth as his body went rigid before slamming into me his length twitching deep within me, “Holy shit…”

Jensen rode out his release, his arms shaking to the point he could not hold himself up anymore. I groaned as he pulled out leaving me empty. He rolled onto his back breathing heavily as I curled into his side burying my head into his chest.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” His concern only made me cling to him more.

I shook my head, “No, I’m just overwhelmed. Too many feelings at once.”

“Talk it out. Tell me what you’re feeling.” Jensen wrapped his arms around me holding me close.

I took a deep breath, “I’m feeling exhilaration, bliss, pleasure. Right now, I’m feeling empty and it’s almost like I can’t breath. I feel scared by how much I need to feel your touch.”

His fingers were drawing small circles against my bare back, “If that’s your way of asking for round two, you’re going to have to wait for a little bit. I haven’t come like that since I was a teenager.”

There was a brief moment of silence before I started to laugh. My body shaking from the laughter pouring from my lips. I kissed his chest, “Thank you.”

“You never need to thank me. It’s my honor to make you laugh. Bring your pleasure. Praise you for your beautifulness. More importantly, always holding you close to me.”

I entwined my legs with his as he pulled the sheet over our naked bodies. Just when I thought he was about to fall asleep, I slipped my hand over his soft member then pressed my lips just under his chin.

“Round two?”

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[thesunnyshow]

Name: Juliet

Writing Blog URL(s): @wonderlustlucas

Nationality: American

Languages: English, beginner level French, teeny tiny bit of Korean

Star Sign: Virgo

MBTI: ISFJ-T

Favorite color: Pastel yellow

Favorite food: My mom’s Sunday gravy

Favorite movie: Howl’s Moving Castle (The Lion King is a close second though)

Favorite ice cream flavor: Specifically Turkey Hill’s Double Dunker (get it— it’s so good)

Favorite animal: Humpback whale

Go-to karaoke song: She’s Kinda Hot by 5 Seconds of Summer

Dream job (whether you have a job or not): Neurosurgeon! Or a Twitch streamer HAHA

Coffee or tea? What are you ordering?  Ahhh probably coffee, I love tea but I need my coffee </3

If you could have one superpower, what would you choose? Shapeshifting! Clearly the superior superpower I don’t take constructive criticism.

If you could visit a historical era, which would you choose? This is weirdly specific, but I would love to be in Scotland during the 1700’s. Alternatively, the 1980’s.

If you could restart your life, knowing what you do now, would you? 100%. I know everything happens for a reason but getting a redo and being able to fix all the big mistakes I made would be pretty nice.

Would you rather fight 100 chicken-sized horses or one horse-sized chicken? One horse-sized chicken! 100 tiny horses would be crazy tiring.

If you were a trope in a teen high school movie, what would you have been? I would probably be the gay side character that gives good emotional advice but is hella lonely LMAO

Do you believe in aliens/supernatural creatures? Yes, both!

What are some small things that make your day better? Driving with the windows down and music blasting, picking up coffee, playing video games, & talking to my internet friends on Discord.

Fun fact about yourself that not everyone would know? I discovered my love for writing through Warrior Cats roleplay😭

What fandom(s) do you write for? Right now, only Kpop, but I wouldn’t mind writing for 5SOS or some of my other fandoms!

When did you post your first piece? On WattPad, December 2015. On Tumblr, April 2018 :)

Do you write fluff/angst/crack/general/smut, combo, etc? Why? I write everything! Fluff/smut/crack is my favorite and slight angst (usually just slow burn though cus I’m soft).

Do you write OCs, X Readers, Ships...etc? Again, I write anything and everything! Currently, second or third person reader inserts are my main style, but I also do ships and would love to write more OCs.

Why did you decide to write for Tumblr? Before Tumblr, I was on WattPad for different fandoms but eventually fell off. Then, when I got into Kpop in 2017, I found that urge to write again and decided to move to Tumblr since WattPad was becoming… weird. Plus Tumblr was a better fit for me!

What inspires you to write? To be completely honest, it’s the little things throughout the day that inspire me. For example, “Honey” was inspired by me not being able to open my locker in high school. “I Hemoglobin You” was based off my friend giving me a head rub while I was donating blood. Kpop idols just so happen to be my muses that I like to put into random moments of inspiration!

What genres/AUs do you enjoy writing the most? High school or college AUs are my favorite, along with some good ol’ friends to lovers slow burn. Angst isn’t my forte so I usually just stick to fluff, smut, and some crack. I haven’t written any but fantasy AUs are some of my favorites too! (RIP to my League of Legends AU that I started and haven’t touched in months.)

What do you hope your readers take away from your work? Just like other fanfiction authors inspire me, I hope some of my work inspires others. Considering fanfiction is free, there is so much out there to read and when I find a good story that inspires ME to write better, I’d love for my writing to do the same.

What do you do when you hit a rough spot creatively? 3 options: 1) Skip that scene and jump ahead to one I’m excited to write; 2) Erase what part I’m on and completely redo it; or 3) Drop it. The majority of my works usually take a few months to write as I will completely stop working on it until I find the right inspiration again. 

What is your favorite work and why? Your most successful? “Four” is definitely my favorite work. It’s one of my longer pieces and there was a lot of raw emotion in there on my end. I love the relationship between Hyunjin and the reader and especially love the ending. “Greatest Gift” for Chanyeol is my most successful, and one of my other favorites!

Who is your favorite person to write about? Easily Hwang Hyunjin. It’s so easy to place him in any of my works, and sometimes it’s a struggle to NOT write him. It sounds stupid but sometimes I really feel like I “know” him so being able to describe him physically and mentally is easy for me.

Do you think there’s a difference between writing fanfiction vs. completely original prose? Yes and no. Yes, because most of the time, fanfiction is totally original as well and requires just as much thought as a 400,000 word novel. No, because fanfiction uses a specific person as a muse.

What do you think makes a good story? Detail and realistic dialogue! Of course, everyone has their own style of writing, but detail is especially important to me. Sure, you can have a great plot, but having concise, detailed writing to get immersed into makes a story so much better. I also find realistic dialogue to be a big deal— I hate when teenage characters are speaking in deep analogies because, if we’re being honest, my daily language is 95% just “Bruh.” If you’re like me, I’d actually prefer realistic dialogue over anything else.

What is your writing process like? Process… yikes. Sometimes… I have a random thought and then I’m like… hell yeah let’s write that. I actually have no process. I don’t outline, I just start writing and keep writing until I’m finished. Then I’ll read it all over to make edits, then I’ll use the Read Aloud feature to catch any mistakes I missed, then I’ll run it through Grammarly before posting!

Would you ever repurpose a fic into a completely original story? Hm, maybe? In the future, possibly, but as of right now I wouldn’t use any of my fics to do so.

What tropes do you love, and what tropes can’t you stand? Oh, gosh, tropes. Gotta love them. Friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, stuck together (AKA forced to share a bed), and fake relationships are my favorites. They may be corny, but I also love truth or dare or 7 minutes in heaven games in fics cus… they’re just classics. Also love fics with a popular x shy pairing. I can’t say I dislike many tropes, but I definitely have a love/hate relationship with vampire and werewolf tropes because of how romanticized they are.

How much would you say audience feedback/engagement means to you? Hm, to be completely honest, only a little bit? I mainly write for myself, it’s like a guilty pleasure to just get all my thoughts and desires out, and then I just so happen to make it public on Tumblr. Nevertheless, receiving comments and asks actually make my day, and sometimes I still struggle to wrap my mind around people enjoying my writing! So, thank you to everyone who has ever left me a kind message, I truly appreciate it ♥

What has been one of the biggest factors of your success (of any size)? Getting involved! I think one of the best ways to grow is to join networks, which not only gives you the opportunity to share your work on a greater scale, but also allows you to make connections. Like real life, making connections and making friendships with other writers can play a huge role in growing as a writer and growing your account.

Do you think fanfic writers get unfairly judged? Yes :( As someone who’s involved with other fandoms, I’ve heard the way some people think of fanfiction and it’s really sad. People do not know how much goes into writing and just see it as cringey and disgusting when it’s just… not.

Do you think art can be a medium for change? Yes! In all its forms, art is something a creator can use to influence their audience (in a good way, hopefully).

Do you ever feel there are times when you’re writing for others, rather than yourself? Like I said in #40, I mainly write for myself. Even when I’m writing a request, chances are if I like the request enough I’m going to create a story out of it that fits my personal desires the most.

Do you ever feel like people have misunderstood you or your writing at times?  No! However, I’d still consider myself a small account and do not have TOO many works posted. But so far, I don’t think I’ve faced this problem :)

Do your offline friends/loved ones know you write for Tumblr? Only a few! My best friend Maggie is on Tumblr with me and only 2 of my other pals know I write fanfiction.

What is one thing you wish you could tell your followers? How much I love each and every one of them for supporting me and sticking around even when I won’t post for months🥺❤️

Do you have any advice for aspiring writers who might be too scared to put themselves out there? Don’t psych yourself out! In the time I’ve spent on Tumblr, I’ve never received any substantial hate. My main advice is don’t write fanfiction to get popular on the app, write fanfiction because you love to write and love your muses!

Are there any times when you regret joining Tumblr? No, as much as Tumblr can be annoying at times, I love the people I’ve met and the content I’ve found and wouldn’t have wanted to use any other platform.

Do you have any mutuals who have been particularly formative/supportive in your Tumblr journey? @pinktea99 — Mo, you’ve been around since the beginning honestly, and without you I wouldn’t have been able to come out of my shell! Thank you for all your love & support & for being my SF9 buddy❤️

Pick a quote to end your interview with: 

“Like mate, stop procrastinating.” — 3RACHA

BONUS ROUND: K-POP CONFIDENTIAL 

[acidproofnotebook]

One-Punch Man Chapter 84, Update 125

As published online

Date:

Translator: u/hdx514

Rough page by page translations for those who don't want to wait. I'm skipping most pages with only sound effects.

Title page

Not lonely, but a solitary one

Pages 2-5

Bang wrecking Garou

Page 6

Genos: perfect moves that combine attack and defense into one

Ge: even though both use the same water stream rock smashing fists, the difference in master is night and day

Ge: the battle about to reach its conclusion

Page 7-11

Garou continues to get wrecked

Page 12

Garou: w…what is this

Ga: these vicious attacks are nothing like damn geezer’s style…

Page 13

Ga: bad…this is bad

Ga: my consciousness is…

Ga: it means…death…

Ga: Ahhhh

Page 14

Bang: what is that strange movement

Ba: where did he learn it?

Ba: he’s moving like a beast

Ga: I’m not done yet!

Page 15

Ga: if I use the fallen heroes as hostages, there might still be a way out!!

Bomb: I won’t let you

Page 16

Monsters get sliced up

Page 17 Bomb: Bang, we finished the monsters from the hole in the ground

Bo: it’s just Garou now

Page 18

Genos: life signals from monsters still remain

Ge: not sure why, but I cannot accurately assess their location or numbers

Ge:if we go down that hole, will we find the Monsters Association hideout?

Pheonix man: The Monster Association members were all killed? Damn, they really are unreliable.

Page 19

Phoenix man: even though we deployed significant forces to capture Garou alive

Ph: that Demon Cyborg…the power he possesses is unbelievable

Ph: even Silver Fang is here, there’s no chance we get Garou away from here

Ph: but if I leave empty handed after this crushing defeat, I might get eaten by Orochi

Page 20

Ph: regardless, I can only hope Garou can escape on his own …

Ph: ...what a desperate situation… Ph: does this mean I have to plan an exit strategy from MA…?

Ba: (referring to Bomb) if you were this badly injured, could you still be standing?

Bo: …if I were 60 years younger, I might be able to tough it out

Bo: …maybe

Bo: we’re almost there!!! Let’s finish him before the other heroes arrive!

Ba: roger

Page 21

Ga: can’t even move my wrists…

Ga: attacking your former number 1 disciple when he’s at his weakest, how despicable of you, Bang

Page 22

Ga: this other geezer, isn’t he Bomb, master of the whirlwind iron cutting fist?

Ga: to think the two reclusive masters of the martial arts world would gang up on me, shameless

Ga: even if I pretend to beg for my life, Demon Cyborg still won’t spare me

Ga: If I want to survive this crisis, I have to kill all three

Page 23

Ga (or Bang?): it’s impossible

Ba: do you know how much pain you have caused my number one disciple Charanko

Ba: Garou!!

Page 24

Garou flashback

Kids: let’s play a hero game!

Kids: you too, Garou

Kids: c’mon let’s play

Garou: huh, sure

Page 25

Kid: drum roll~~

Kid: justice man is here!

Kid: justice kick

Kid: aah it hurts!

Page 26

Ga: hey that’s dangerous

Kid: huh?

Ga: I feel bad (for the kid playing monster)

Kid: …how about you play the monster

Kid: justice cross

Ga: waa (steps out of the way)

Kid: what’s wrong with you?

Ga: s…sorry, Tatsu

Kid: I almost had you

Kids: what’s your problem, you’re a monster, you’re not supposed to do that

Kids: let’s pin him down

Kids: okay-

Page 27

Kid: justice man kick!

Kid: monster Garou defeated~

Ga: what is this, pre-death flashbacks?

Ga: these memories disgusts me

Ga: that kid…right, I remember him…Tatsu, that popular kid

Page 28

Kids: hey, what’s going on? Why are you fighting?

Kids: shall I call the teacher?

Kids: Garou is being violent

Kids: we were only playing, but he got mad! What’s his problem

Ga: I….I can’t take it any more!

Ga: come Tatsu, me vs. you, let’s figure it out

Tatsu: ha? What are you talking about, I thought we were just playing

Page 29

Ga:  I DON’T want to play monster! It’s no fun at all!

Ga: let’s duke it out, if I win you stop bugging me, that’s the deal!

Tat: Sabu, Yotsu, hold Garou down

Ga: despicable….stop…let go! I…

Ga: aah…damn it!

Kids: he’s crazy, let’s call the teacher

Kids: run Tatsu

Kids: pin him down, pin him down!

Kids: what happened?

Kids: you guys should come and help

Kids: Tatsu was being nice and Garou took advantage of him

Kids: he’s the worst

Kids: Garou got serious with Tatsu all of a sudden while playing the game

Kids: what’s this guy even thinking

Kids: I feel so bad for Tatsu

Page 30

Tatsu is a king among the kids, Tatsu is a bully, Tatsu is nasty

I’m in the dark, always alone I have no friends

Tatsu is a good athlete, Tatsu is popular

I despise the popular ones

not sure of the order of the following dialogue

Teacher: why did you get violent?

Te: I heard you got mad while playing a hero game, is that true?

Te: can you not even tell the difference between a game and reality!

Ga: no teacher, it’s because Tatsu is so popular that everyone is badmouthing me

Te: you were the violent one, weren’t you? What if a window got broken, how are you going to pay for that!

Ga: Tatsu always…always treats me like a monster

Ga: NO!

Page 31

Ga: I don’t dislike playing the monster

Ga: am I holding a grudge against Tatsu for playing the hero?

Ga: no, that’s not it either

Ga: it’s just that playing the hero game has made me realize how absurd it is

Ga: the one who’s popular can bully the one who’s hated however he wants

Te: you are in the wrong, apologize now

Te: call your parents

Ga: this is not just bullying, this is a faithful, real life adaption of a kids’ game that is accepted by the public.

Ga: you are free to choose your role, but the ones who ends up playing hero must have the support of the people, how could that ever be me.

Ga: naturally, the script in which the one playing monster scores the victory doesn’t exist in the first place. I was destined to lose.

Page 32

Ga: what is justice! What is evil!

Ga: at the end of the day it’s just following the will of the masses, and the masses wants me dead!

Ga: unforgivable! There is no logic!

Ga: I can’t explain the reason behind it, but it makes me mad!

Ga: I will make you understand! Ga: I will deliver my punch on behalf of the disenfranchised!

Ga: and I reject your notion of good and evil!

Page 33

Genos: he fell

Bang: it’s over

Page 34

Ga: no way it ends at a place like this!

Page 35

Garou shatters earth

Page 36

Bang/Bomb: what?!

Page 37-39

Garou lifts tree and swings it

Bo: this is bad, his body…

Ba: what’s with this burst of power?!

Page 40

Bang: don’t you realize it yet Garou!

Ba: if you keep going like this, you really will die!

Ge: Bang, above you!

Page 41-42

Phoenix man lands and grabs Garou

Page 43

Bo: more monsters!?

Ba: there’re still a few left!!!

Page 44

Ba: !

Ba: Genos-kun

Ge: Bang, you saw that just now, didn’t you

Ge: that thing has become monster, it even befriended one

Ge: I trust that you won’t object if I shoot both of them down

Page 45

Phoenix man (calling to Elder Centipede): Can you hear me!!?

Ph: I have Garou

Ph: just finish these guys off!

Ph: I’m leaving the rest to you!!

Bo: ???

Page 46-47

Ge: spiral incineration cannon

Ph: Elder Centipede

Page 48-50

Elder Centipede emerges and tanks Genos’ cannon fire

Page 51

Bo/Ba/Ge: What was that!?

Page 52-53

Elder Centipede breaking ground

Page 54-55

Disaster level: dragon

Giant monster insect Elder Centipede

Page 56

Bo: w..what…

Bo: is this a living thing!!?

Ba: damn, we must protect them (the fallen heroes)

Page 57

Ba: up you go

Page 58

Bomb using whirlwind iron cutting fist to save the fallen heroes

Page 59

Ge: those life signals must have been caused by it…

Ge: it’s not that I wasn’t able to pinpoint its location, it’s simply too massive

[very long -- rest under cut]

Page 60

Ge: completely unharmed after taking the cannon fire

Ge/Bo/Ba (not sure who said it): an opponent that can easily break my wrists…

Garou (I think): that centipede…

Page 61

Ga: why did you come here?

Ph: don’t worry, Elder Centipede will handle the rest down there

Ph: that guy is a literal natural disaster that swallows everything

Ph: his indiscriminant power of destruction is truly shocking

Ph: an anti-climactic “hero hunt” as usual, wouldn’t you say?

Ph: you  can’t just knock them out, they must be eliminated permanently

Ph: heroes who are knocked out will be always come back bouncin’

Page 62

Ph: …you just rest easy

Ph: Elder Centipede will end it all

Ga: ! (starts struggling)

Ph: stop wasting your energy

Ga: those heroes are my prey

Ph: yo yo, stop moving!

Ga: damn you, let me go! Unforgivable!

Ph: hey hey, don’t get angry

Ph: it’s your fault you didn’t finish them off after all

Ph: plus, this is a golden opportunity for us to off 2 S-class heroes

Ph: the S-class heroes are the biggest threat to the Monsters Association

Page 63

Ph: you experienced it firsthand, didn’t you

Ph: there is such thing as battle compatibility

Ph: if our advisor Gyoro is right, in the entire Hero Association, there are only four who could take on Elder Centipede

Page 64

Ph: The wielder of unparalleled supernatural power, “tornado of terror”

Ph: The sole commander of a military force that’s beyond even HA’s control, “metal knight”

Page 65

Ph: The strongest human “King”

Ph: And…the one who almost killed Elder Centipede, the strongest hero, “Blast”

Page 66

Ph: Elder Centipede is working with Monsters Association in order to seek revenge against Blast

Ph: he just can’t wait to lure the hermit Blast back onto the battlefield

Ph: unfortunately…those two down there (Bang and Genos) do not possess the power to turn the tides in their favor

Ph: Silver Fang has obtained unmatched power through martial arts, but that only works on opponents of a similar size

Ph: Demon Cyborg’s capabilities are terrifying

Ph: but he carries nothing on-board that will threaten a monster of this size.

Ph: He cannot go beyond the destructive firepower of his weapons

Ph: that is the limit of Demon Cyborg

Page 67

Ph: with a lineup like that, they are surely doomed

Ge/Bo/Ba: It’s coming!!!

Page 68

Page 69-70

Elder Centipede charging against the three

Page 71-72

Ba/Bo: Whirlwind water stream air-blasting sky-splitting fist

Page 73-75

Impact, Elder Centipede cracking, Bang and Bomb posing

Page 76

Ge: what a technique (flashback of Bang and Bomb talking about their technique: it’s a killing blow, but it has openings, my understanding is they needed Genos’ attack to act as decoy in order for their combo to land, because it’s not yet perfect)

Ge: it even shattered such hardened shell…

Ge: this must be

Ge: the pinnacle of technique/skill

Page 77-78

Ba/Bo: it’s not over yet x 10

Page 79

Elder Centipede pushes Bang/Bomb back

Page 80

Ba: ouch…that was careless

Bo: but we got it

Bo: the impact will ravage its body

Bo: turn into powder, monster

Ba: for two old folks like us, using this grand technique once is our limit

Ba: great thing we landed

Ba: a little help, Genos

Page 81

Ba: it’s over

Page 82

Elder Centipede molting

Page 83

Ba: it can’t be

Page 84

Ba: this guy just molted!!!

Ba: and it’s even bigger than before!?

Ba: how could this be

Page 85

Bo: we cannot defeat that thing…!

Bo: and we need to protect the unconscious heroes…

Bo: what shall we do!? Bang!

Ba: it’ll catch up to us if we tried to run

Ba: this forest park is just outside the city limits …

Ba: if we leave we’ll get civilians involved

Page 86

Ge: Bang, I will fight it

Ge: try my best to lure the centipede over here

Ge: you guys grab the injured heroes and get out of here

Page 87

Ba: Genos kun

Ba: you want to go alone

Ba: can’t say I agree with this plan…

Bo: I know there’s little chance of success, but don’t be reckless

Bo: the future belongs to the youths

Genos’ flashback of Dr. Kuseno: whatever you do Genos, don’t be reckless

Page 88

Ge: am I really going to…

Ge: leave this monster be

Page 89-90

Ge: That is not

Ge: possible

Page 91-92

Genos fighting Elder Centipede

Page 93

Ba: this is madness

Ba: cannon fire cannot harm it

Page 94

Ge: whether it’s this thing

Ge: or the monster from yesterday (Gouketsu)

Page 95

Ge: or Garou

Ge: they’re all part of the Monsters Association

Ge: this fight

Ge: is unavoidable

Page 96-97

Genos attacking Elder Centipede from above

Page 98

Ge: Dual Blade Rush

Ge: that’s what you have to do to fight them

Page 99

Ge: I’m participating

Ge: destroy

Page 100

Ge: if this is me being reckless

Ge: !

Page 101

Ba/Bo: Genos kun!!!

Ge: at this rate, I’ll…

Page 102

OUT OF THE FIGHT

Page 103

Genos recombines

Page 104

Ge: Jets drive arrow

Page 105-106

Genos kicks Elder Centipede tooth, which cracks

Page 107

Ba/Bo: he’s inside its mouth

Elder: it’s over…

Page 108

Ge: ! digestive acid

Elder: I’ll melt you in a few seconds

Ge: it’s you who are going to melt

Page 109-110

Ge: Super Spiral Incineration Cannon

Page 111

Aftermath of Super Spiral Incineration Cannon

Page 112

Bo: …!!!

Ba: he finished it!!

Page 113

Elder Centipede tanks the hit, is fine

Page 114

Ge: at the end…

Ge: I am unable to…defeat…

Ge: nor able to protect…

Page 115

Ba: let’s get out of here

Ba: Bomb!

Ba: grab the rest of them!!

Elder: futile struggle

Ph: what’s the matter

Ph: you were still responsible for taking out half of the heroes, it can’t be that bad

Page 116

Ga: not like that!

Ga: This is not what I had hoped!!!

Ga: I…I wanted to beat them with my own strength!

Ga: only then I can be a symbol of terror…!!

Ga: that’s the purpose of the hero hunt!!!

Ph: symbol of terror? You? Hahahaha…

Ph: in your current state, if you went back there, you’ll just end up getting trampled to death with the rest of the heroes

Ph: right now, you do not possess the strength to disobey Elder Centipede or executive members of the Monsters Association

Page 117

Ga: crying…

Ga: sooner or later…I’ll show you what I’m capable of…

Ge: how could I…

Page 118

Ge: what am I missing…!?

Ge: are there several others like that?

Ge: in front of those monsters…

Ge: what can I do, besides look on with envy…?

Bo: Bang! This is bad

Bo: at this rate it’ll get outside the forest park!

Bo: there will be casualties in the city!!

Page 119

Bo: at this rate…I won’t be able to walk

Bo: how old do you think I am

Ba: I’ll leave it to fate…

Ba: brother

Page 120

Ba: for the last time in my life, I’ll give it my all

Page 121-122

King: Elder Centipede~!!!

K: yo! Pest!!!!!

K: I’ve brought your target – “Blast”!!!!

Page 123

Ba: !?

Ge: that voice…King!!?

Ge: Blast!?

Ba: what…!

Bo: !!!? Look!!

Bo: it’s stopped chasing and is going towards another direction

Page 124

Elder: Blast…?

King: thaat’s….riiiight!

K: the very one that beat the crap out of you and made you wet yourself, the hero Blast!!

K: if you want to fight him again, come over here!

K: why are you so scared you can’t move?! Straighten up!!! Hey, if you’re about to shit yourself you should go home!

K: a bug like you, you must want to run back underground and suck on your mom’s tits!!!!

Page 125

Association staff: King arrived at the location near S city where Elder Centipede has reemerged!!!

Staff: thank god! It’s King, he’ll have a solution…

Staff: …there are several other heroes onsite

Staff: when I warned him their battle might cause collateral damage and injure the innocent, he told me “I hope you could give me information that can provoke Elder Centipede”

S: he might have wanted to lure the monster to him and fight it one on one.

Page 126

Staff: it sustained grave injuries at the hands of Blast in the past, but escaped with his injuries underground

S: it would be great if we could finish it off this time…

S: even though it’s top secret information, I still told king the past between Blast and Elder Centipede

S: and explained to him if the battle were to become dragged out or increase in scope, it might causegreat disaster for the surrounding areas …

S: what did he say?

S: he just said “understood”.

The roar of the King Engine……

Page 127

K: luring it here so no one else gets involved…

K: finish it off with one shot before it escapes underground

K: damage must be contained…blowing it back into the city is not an option…

K: there’s very limited time to make your decision

K: that’s it

Page 128

K: …

K: …Saitama?

Page 129

K: Saitama~!!!?

K: it’s about to

Page 130

Shot of Elder Centipede charging

Page 131-138

SERIOUS PUNCH

Page 139

Saitama: ah

Page 140

Sai: Genos, is that you?

Page 141

Sai: you really are here

Sai: just like King said

K: by the skin of my teeth…that was a close call…

Sai: it’s all good, we’re here aren’t we

K: huh? Saitama, you sound…happy?

Sai: I feel awesome for some reason

Page 142

Sai: it’s a great stress release after getting owned by you in video games

K (thinking): it’s still bothering him …

K: that’s not it…I thought I told you it’s because of your inflexible, singular approach towards battles

Ge: Saitama sensei, can I ask you a question

Sai: what?

Ge: what am I missing?

Sai: huh

Sai: power, I guess?

Page 143

Ge: …!!!!

Ge: thank you very much

K: aaaaaaahhhhhh…that’s no good Genos…

K: you cannot use Saitama as reference

Ge: sensei has guided my path with his battle

Ge: the symbol of great strength, that is my goal…

Ge: I will be there

Page 144

Ph: Garou…he has finally lost consciousness

Ph: rest easy

Ph: we’ll soon be with Orochi

END

[lonelyandlovelorn]

Stood up

Genre: fluff, comfort

Warning: swearing, people are mean

Word Count: 2400

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size fem reader

Summary: As a bigger girl, dating has always been difficult. Thankfully, your favorite protector is there to cheer you up. 

Masterlist

You were pretty excited about your date. The man was no Dean Winchester (the man of your unrealistic dreams), but he was attractive and he seemed nice enough when you met him a couple of nights ago in a bar a little ways from the bunker. It had been a long time since someone had asked you on a date, because apparently a girl with a little more meat on her bones has cooties. You definitely weren’t bitter.

But that didn’t matter now, someone had asked you. And while it wasn’t who you always secretly wanted to ask, it was still exciting. You had put on your most flattering jeans, some cute boots, and a flannel. Hey, it might be a date, but it’s a date at a bar. You were not about to go all out to go for a drink. You were in the process of trying to figure out what to do with your hair when there was a knock on your door.

“Y/N? Sammy wanted to know if you wanted to watch a movie or something tonight.” That was a voice you would know anywhere. The gorgeous man that seemed to have walked directly out of one of your fantasies.

Sam and Dean Winchester had found you on a hunt by yourself, fighting some vampires that they had just managed to track down. As a hunter, of course you knew who the Winchesters were. Of course, they were sort of considered the fuckups of the hunting world, but you had always secretly admired them for how far they would go for the ones they love. Not long after meeting them, you became an honorary Winchester. At first, you just helped on the occasional hunt, whenever you were in the area. However, as time went on, you got evicted and the boys loved your company (and your cooking), so you moved into the bunker. You and Sam were the same age, so you had grown very close with him; he was basically your brother. Dean, though. Dean was different. The first time you saw Dean in daylight, without blood and gunk all over him, you thought you had actually died and your version of heaven was just gorgeous men paying attention to you. When you realized that you were not, in fact, dead, you developed a massive crush on the elder Winchester. Thankfully, you had spent a lot of your life liking boys who never looked at you that way, so you weren’t awkward around him.

Coming back to earth, you glanced at Dean in the mirror, as he had come into the room when you didn’t answer right away. “Sorry Dean, spaced out for a second. And I can’t watch a movie tonight, I’ve got a date.” You tried to keep your giddiness to yourself, but judging by Dean’s smile, you weren’t doing a very good job.

“A date?” he asked, after a moment, realizing what you had said. He must have realized that he sounded shocked, because he started talking again. “Not that I’m shocked you have a date, more that you’re going on one? Not like that, it’s just… who’s the guy?”

He looked like he was worried he had offended you. “Don’t worry Dean, I know that’s not what you meant. And the guy is named Ethan, I met him at the bar.” You were still looking at yourself in the mirror, completely unsure what to do with your hair.

“You should leave it down.” You raised an eyebrow at Dean in the mirror as he cleared his throat. “I mean, that’s what you were doing right? Your hair looks nice when it’s down.” He was scratching the back of his head and avoiding your eyes in the mirror. You smiled softly at him and left your hair down.

“Thanks Dean.” You fluffed your hair a little before standing up from your seat in front of the mirror. You had put on very light makeup, because you weren’t exactly skilled with a makeup brush.

Dean glanced you up and down, smiling his approval at your outfit choice. “Nothing better than a woman in a flannel… well, it’s better if she’s just wearing a flannel,” he mused, giving you a wolfish grin. You rolled your eyes at him and lightly smacked his arm.

“You’re disgusting.”

“Yep.” You were both laughing at this point. “Well have fun on your date. Do you need a ride?”

“Actually, that would be great, thanks.” You know that you shouldn’t be disappointed that he seemed happy for you that you’re going on a date, but a small part of you had hoped. You knew though, realistically, that you just weren’t his type. Dean Winchester’s type usually involved tight asses and flat tummies, neither of which you had. You sighed quietly to yourself before grabbing your leather jacket and purse, turning to follow him out of the room. His eyes were following you around the room and as you slid on your jacket. You made eye contact, and he turned to leave the room, heading towards the garage. You both climbed in Baby and headed to the bar, lost in your own separate thoughts.

When you pulled up to the bar, Dean said, “Go get him, kiddo. Don’t do anything I would do.” He winked at that. “Call me if you need me, okay?” After you nodded, he let you go with a wave, driving away.

You took a deep breath before heading into the bar. You couldn’t see Ethan anywhere, so you sat down at a booth to wait for him, ordering a drink and scrolling through your phone. After you finished that drink, you realized that he was 20 minutes late. You tried texting him, hoping that he would let you know that he was just running late. You didn’t want to seem too desperate, so you just left it at a text and ordered another drink. About 40 minutes after he was supposed to have shown up, you heard a group of girls at a table next to you giggle a little and you decided you had nothing better to do than listen to them.

You soon regretted the choice to eavesdrop, though, when you realized they were laughing at you.

“Look at the fatty over there. Do you think she got stood up or left here? Maybe she just wants people to feel bad for her.”

You had spent your whole life with people commenting on your weight, from your mother to complete strangers. Everyone always thought it was their right to have an opinion on how the fat stayed on your body. You had grown thick skin from a young age, but these comments following being stood up stung a little.

Letting out a shaky breath, you pulled out your phone and went to your recents. He picked up on the second ring.

“Hey sweetheart, why are you calling so soon? Was he really that boring?” You could tell he was laughing a little at the idea of the guy being so incredibly boring that of course you would choose to leave the date. When you didn’t respond right away, Dean sounded worried. “Y/N? Are you there? Are you okay?”

You let out a sad chuckle and said, “Yeah, I’m okay, don’t worry about it, but can you come pick me up?”

“Sure thing, I’ll be there in ten minutes.” You could hear rustling of him moving around and then him talking to Sam.

“Thanks Dean.” You felt guilty for having him drive back out to the bar so soon.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. See you soon.” With that he hung up and you were left sitting next to the girls who seemed to think a person’s value (and feelings) only mattered when they looked good in a bikini. They also apparently thought that girls who weighed more than 120 lbs couldn’t hear. You decided to just tune them out while you scrolled through twitter. Well, you scrolled until you heard a girl in the group gasp. They all started talking about this super hot guy who had just walked in, so you lazily looked up, certain of who it was.

Dean Winchester’s eyes landed on you, and he walked towards you, ignoring the hot girls trying to get his attention. He slid into the booth across from you and looked at you in concern.

“Was the date really that bad?” he asked, the sympathy clear in his voice.

“The date didn’t happen.” You were humiliated, telling the guy you had fallen for that the one guy who had shown interest in you had stood you up. “He didn’t come.” You couldn’t look at him while you said that.

“That fucker!” You had to look up at him at that, not expecting him to sound angry, especially not on your behalf. “What kind of asshole asks a girl on a date and doesn’t bother to show up?” He somehow seemed more upset than you were. You knew you had to calm him down.

“Dean, it’s okay. It’s not the first time.” That was the wrong thing to say.

“Sweetheart, you deserve the whole damn world, not dicks who do shit like this. Why do you go out with these assholes?”

“It’s not like I get a lot of interest from guys Dean, which means that I pretty much just have a higher chance of him being an ass. I’m used to it, don’t worry about it.” Your intention wasn’t to make him pity you, you just wanted him to move on from this. You were okay, you would move on, so he had to.

He didn’t have anything to say to that right away. In that silence, you both focused on the girls next to you. Once again, a poor decision.

“... believe he sat with her. He’s just so hot, and she’s just…. taking up space. Ugh, I hate when the fatties get the hot guys.”

Your eyes had widened listening to them speak, partially in hurt, but also partially in humiliation. Dean just seemed to be getting angrier. Before you could stop him, he was out of his seat and walking up to the girls. They didn’t seem to notice at first that he was angry, so they all put on what you were sure they thought were sexy faces. However, Dean walked right up to their table, sat down, and started talking.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Aren’t women supposed to support each other? Also, just because you haven’t had a goddamn meal in the last three weeks, that doesn’t make her any less beautiful. Hell, she’s gorgeous, and there is nothing about you better than her. You know why? Because you’re ugly inside. She’ll be beautiful her whole life, and you’ll be ugly middle aged women, completely mediocre and unimportant.” At this point, the whole bar was quiet, and you think you definitely weren’t the only one with a dropped jaw. You didn’t know how to process all of that, and he turned back to you, dropping money on the table to pay for your drinks and grabbing your hand, gently dragging you from the booth and out of the bar.

The car ride was awkward and silent. You didn’t know what to say, you were still trying to process everything. Of course you were hurt after all of this, but you never expected him to go off on anyone. Next to you in the car, he seemed very worked up. Neither of you said anything until the car pulled into the bunker’s garage.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I was just really worked up and angry, and you didn't deserve that.” He looked ashamed of himself and you just couldn’t help it. You leaned over and kissed his cheek, not knowing how to show how grateful you were for his defense. You had to laugh a little when he blushed, avoiding your eyes. When you both composed yourself a little, something was poking at you.

“Do you really think I’m beautiful?” You couldn’t look at him as you asked, not wanting him to know how much his answer meant to you.

“Are you kidding me?” You knew he didn’t actually mean it. “Sweetheart you’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever known.” Your gaze swung towards him so fast that you think your neck cracked. “Have you just not noticed the way I look at you? Sam reminds me all the time that I’m not very subtle.” He smiles a little at that.

You furrowed your brow. “But I’m not your type.”

Dean looked incredibly unimpressed. “What do you think my type is?”

“You know….” you waved your hand around, searching for the best thing to say, “hot.”

At this point, Dean blatantly checked you out. “I don’t see your point here. You’re still my type. Also, why do you get to decide my type?”

You were floundering. Where was he going with this? There was no way he liked you, that’s just not how that works. It was impossible. He was the man of your fantasies, not the other way around.

“You really didn’t notice, did you? Damn, even I thought I was obvious. Okay, well, no better time than the present. Y/N, I definitely have the hots for you, and it’s not just for the fact that you’re gorgeous outside. You’re sweet and you take care of us dumbasses, and you’re just a badass. I promise I’m telling you the truth.”

You were staring at him, in complete disbelief. Had you died? You realized you probably hadn’t when he glanced at your lips and started leaning towards you, waiting for you to decide whether you wanted it or not. In a split second, you made the decision and surged forward.

It wasn’t passionate, like you were a few minutes from fucking in the back of the Impala. It was slow and sweet, and he held your cheek in his hand like you were something precious, cared for. You were both lost on the moment, savoring it.

Until Sam walked into the garage, turning on the lights.The moment he saw you two jump away from each other, he laughed and just yelled, “I knew it!’

Dean leaned over to kiss you quickly before jumping out of the Impala to chase his brother for ruining the moment.

[feministfataley]

The Images You Sell Are Problematic - The Importance of Plus Size Characters in Video Games

The video game industry is currently the biggest entertainment industry in the UK in terms of spending.  More and more people are choosing to engage with the medium whether it is through mobile apps with the dreaded microtransactions, through more traditional games such as Call of Duty or Fallout or even through the medium of interactive entertainment – Netflix’s Bandersnatch, for example.  

With increased audiences must come increased responsibility – video games pull in audiences from all walks of life.  To some extent, we have seen improvements.  We have seen stories from queer protagonists, people of colour, men, women, children, even mentally ill protagonists. Progress indeed, but there is one area that remains criminally underrepresented.

Despite all these fantastical stories taking place in far off lands, most of the character models adhere to the same mould.   Granted, we’ve come a long way since plus size representation was limited to a small rotund Italian man with a mushroom addiction and his imaginary pet dinosaur, but there is still a considerable shortage of larger characters.  

Female characters are typically thin but curvy, an ideal that is nearly impossible to recreate without surgery.  Male characters tend to be lean and overly muscled – a figure out of reach of most average joes.  Taking a cursory glance around you, you’ll see people of many different body types and shapes.  So why are we still refusing to accept this in video games?

Anastasia Wyatt, junior artist on indie title Heaven’s Vault, believes pressure from shareholders could be the problem.  She said: “With the big companies they've probably been more cautious because they think this is the only thing that sells because that's all that there’s been in the past.  A small company has less shareholders and a lot less pressure if they take what they consider as a risk with less idealized looking characters.  It's not going to be disastrous for them in that respect if it doesn't sell well.”

It is not just pressure from shareholders here either, players themselves exert pressure on publishers to use idealised figures. World of Warcraft announced a new allied race with the launch of its newest expansion – Battle for Azeroth.  The race was called Kul Tiran humans, and feature a much bulkier frame and taller than the standard human model. Plus-sized gamers rejoiced.  The rest of the community did not. Within a few hours of the announcement the Blizzard forums were full of people asking for a ‘thin’ version of the character or spewing vitriol about how this character model was ugly and shouldn’t be implemented.  It’s a difficult position to be in.

Wyatt said:  “I think that's why publishers get nervous because they see criticisms like that. They think that even if they would like to use a plus size character in the people will react badly and they don't want to see those sort of comments perhaps. Which is a shame.”

Regardless of any outside pressure however, representation is very important.  Not only for the people represented by plus-size characters, but to combat fatphobia – the fear of being fat.   A large amount of stigma still exists towards plus size people in the wild, and games that equate fat to lazy or disgusting do not help.  Representation is even more important when you consider the young age children are exposed to this type of media.  Dr Peyta Eckler, professor of social communication at the University of Strathclyde, is concerned about the effect this may have.  She said: “I think this is an industry that is made predominantly for men and unfortunately it it's feeding them unhealthy stereotypes which are hugely outdated and problematic nowadays.  Not just about body types but women in general.

We cannot ignore and be blind to the societal repercussions of such images. I'm not sure if this will come to be regulated at some point, but also I think for young women, there needs to step back and a reality check.  Realizing okay what we've talked about these are unrealistic images.  Yes they do show what's desirable but they're taken to an extreme and no one can live up to that extreme.”

The erasure of plus-size figures in games contributes to a negative perception overall, especially if children are being exposed to this erasure from a young age.  Normalisation of different body types and figures is very important in formative years.

That’s not to say all portrayals are negative however.  Take Ellie, first appearing in Borderlands 2 by Gearbox.  She is a skilled, fiercely independent mechanic who is unashamedly fat.  More than being unashamed, she is proud of her body and who she is.  A mission for her involves you collecting statuettes of her from the wreckage of bandit cars.  She said they were made to make fun of her, but she loves them and the way she looks.  She displays the collected figurines in her garage, clearly delighted with the result.  It is this kind of body positivity we need in the industry.  Ellie doesn’t let others tell her what to do with her body and loves it the way it is.  

Heaven’s Vault reliably uses varied body types and shapes.  Huang is chubby, the professor is old.  They look like bodies that have been lived in, bodies that have stories to tell.  No one is inherently evil because they look different.  This also makes the characters infinitely more engaging.  Wyatt said:  “Not everyone is going to be the man with the same build, in the same stubble. We designed the characters this way because this is what people look like. It's also a good thing to do because then you just get an interesting range of characters. If everyone is the same man with stubble that's boring.

I certainly feel like when you're playing games and especially if it's trying to be a game it's about sort of a realistic story and you're trying to emotionally connect to people; if everyone looks like this idealized super model then it seems less real.”

The world would be terribly boring if we all looked the same.  Video game worlds are similar in this respect.  Worlds populated with a varied cast of characters are more engaging, more alive.  Playing a game populated by varied characters is infinitely more satisfying, particularly from a roleplaying point of view.  

Of course, for every good example of plus size representation there are a million bad ones.   Look at all the extra difficult and physically disgusting zombie enemies that also happen to be fat.  For example, bloaters in State of Decay 2 and boomers in Left 4 Dead.  You also have Wario from the Mario series and Dr Robotnik from Sonic, both antagonists and visibly overweight.  Depictions of fat characters are not usually kind, coding them as either lazy or undesirable purely because of their size.  

Not even the God of Thunder is immune from this character coding.  Stepping away from the realm of video games for a moment, the latest instalment of the Marvel Cinematic Universe:  Avengers Endgame saw Thor begin drinking to forget the people he had lost, resulting in a ‘beer belly’. Completely understandable considering how traumatic the previous film Infinity War was to watch.  However, they played his weight gain for laughs.  Cheap jokes resounded about his weight for the rest of the film.  This is the sort of thing more widespread plus size representation would combat.  If plus size people were a regular occurrence in these universes, the ability to poke fun of them for being unusual would disappear.

It is clear that change is needed, but how do you change an industry still beset by outdated stereotypes and fatphobia?  Dr Eckler said: “I think there has to be change from within. I think once more women hopefully become part of the creators of these games. They would start changing some of the content, forcing change in the content.”   Wyatt has a different view.  “I think that games where there are different characters, people are really beginning to pick up on them. I think we've been slowly seeing more diverse characters in recent years.  More games with female leads for example, when I was younger there were only a handful of games that had female characters in them.  It will take time, but I believe we will see more body type diversity as the industry evolves.”

There is hope.  The indie games market is doing rather well at telling the stories of all kinds of people and players.  Away from the eyes of publishing houses and shareholders, wonderful, beautiful games are being made.  In the truest spirt of video games as communication, stories are told about people of all shapes and sizes and races and genders.  It is an amazing thing and something it is hoped will begin to be a standard, no matter what level you are publishing a game at.  

Video games can be a powerful vehicle to communicate ideas.  There is no reason why they couldn’t be used to provide some much-needed normalisation of the existence of different body types.  It is the responsible thing to do.   The power to create a world as you want it to be, or as you see it is in a developer’s hands.    Use that power for good, create a more accepting society.  Goodness knows there’s enough hate going around as it is.

[ticklikeabomb]

The Language of Limbo - Part 3

Pairing : Chris Evans x Plus Size Reader ; Marvel Cast x Plus Size Reader

Warnings : Language

Word Count : 3.5k

The week went on just as the previous ones : wake up, prepare yourself, go train with Mason who you discovered was also hired as stunt man for the movie, go back home, have something small to eat and crash down on your bed.

It was so far, the beginning of shooting. You grabbed your suitcase and headed to the airport, catch the plane for Atlanta. The stewardess guided you towards your seat and you noticed that your neighbor was already there looking out the window. Taking a book out of your bag, you sat down, put your seatbelt on and shot off your phone. Not really fond of airplanes, your hands and nails gripped the armrest next to you, while you closed your eyes and waited for the takeoff to end. When the plane was stabilized, the stewardess came back and asked you if you wanted anything to drink. "Yes, some sparkling water please." She nodded and focused on the man seated beside you. You dived back in your book but couldn't help listening to what she was saying. "I'll bring it right away Sir and if you need anything, anything at all I'm at your disposal", she seductively claimed. You raised your eyebrows, surprised of her openly flirt with one of the passengers but didn't look further into it and continued reading. "It would be all", replied the man. Five minutes later, she put your orders in front of you and left abruptly. 'That was weird', you thought.

Another 20 minutes passed by when the man besides you cleared his voice and spoke to you. "I see you don't like planes." You lifted your head and looked beside you. There he was again : Chris Mothafucking Evans. Your eyes widened and you gasped, "Hey" He chuckled and replied, "I was wondering how long it would take you until you noticed that I was your neighbor all along but you were so concentrated in your book and didn't even looked my way once, that I lost patience."

"Sorry, didn't see you. Are you stalking or something? We keep bumping into each other all the time", you joked. He laughed louder this time before denying such accusations. "I could ask you the same thing", he smiled. "Nah, I'm not I swear", you laughed along. Now you understood why the stewardess was such a flirt. "Good. I guess we could take this opportunity and talk, get to know each other since we're gonna work and spend 4 months together", he suggested. "Yeah totally", you managed to reply smoothly. "Oh and thank you again for that lift the other day", he commented. You shook your head and told him it was nothing. "I hope you slept well then." You frowned confused and he chuckled. "You know, you said that you wouldn't sleep well knowing that I would take my car but since you dropped me at the hotel, you must have slept well." You gasped and replied, "You remember that?" "Of course I do", he said and leaned closer. "I told you I could hold my liquor." Having him so close to you, heat and shivers began to slowly creep up your body. Your only reaction was to nod and face your glass of water before taking a large gulp of it. Focused on your drink, you didn't notice Chris's smirk. You spent the rest of the flight talking about your respective lifes. It was nice to get to know the man behind the myth, without all the glam surrounding him, without hiding himself. It only made you fall even more for him. 

Since you were heading to the same place, you and Chris decided to share the cab and drove to the set. When you arrived, the staff showed you your trailer and informed that you were needed for the final fittings regarding your character's clothes. You dropped your things in what was serving you as home for the next few months and immediately headed to the clothing trailer, leaving your stuff for later. You greeted the crew and they gave you the clothes. After the readjustments, you marched towards your trailer when you crossed road with members of the cast. "Hey how are you?", greeted Scarlet, Mark, Jeremy and Robert with a side-hug. "I'm good what about all of you?", you asked with a wide smile. "We're fine", answered Mark. "We heard you had company in the plane", commented Robert. You chuckled and nodded, "Yeah, God news travel fast in here." They laughed and affirmed that they did but mostly because they've seen Chris before bumping into you and he told them you were on the same plane. "Anyway, I've got to go. Don't forget people, Downey town at 7pm", yelled RDJ while going away. "Downey town?", you wondered. "Oh and you too Y/N", he shouted and disappeared at the following corner. Scarlet circled her arm around your shoulder and whispered, "It's Robert's side of the set. He has like 5 trailers so we named it Downey Town. He invited the whole cast for diner." You gasped, "Oh okay. That's really nice." You were arriving at your own trailer and were about to dismiss yourself to take a shower when Scarlet told you she would come get you at 6pm and show you around the set. "Alright, thank you", you said and went inside.

You had two hours before Scarlet would show up, so you took your clothes out of your bag, disposed them in the small closet before grabbing your toiletries and heading towards the shower. Since it was still hot you decided to let your hair dry out naturally, put on a jeans and t-shirt with sneakers and checked your watch. You had exactly 10minutes left and texted your best-friend. A couple of days after the table read, they authorized you to tell your family and close friends that you were casted in the movie, so you immediately called Aaron and informed him of the good news. No need to say that he was beyond happy for you, best friends having the chance to be part of the same cinematic universe.

To Aaron : I've arrived on set. The flight was ok. You're never gonna believe who sat beside me.

From Aaron : Beyoncé?

To Aaron : Ha ha … *I wish tho*. The most righteous person ever…

From Aaron : Beyoncé??!!

To Aaron : Dude…Captain fucking America…well Chris Evans to be precise.

From Aaron : Ohhhhh H-I-M !!!

He knew of your long-time crush about Chris and used every opportunity he had to tease you about it.

To Aaron : Don't start. It was weird at the beginning but then we began talking and he immediately made me feel at ease. He's really nice and his eyes…god his eyes. He's so cute.

From Aaron : 😏😏😏

To Aaron : Alright I've gotta go. RDJ invited everyone to Downey Town. Kisses to the fam. ILY

From Aaron : HE WHATTTT? How come I've never been invited to Downey Town? Anyway, have fun and keep me updated. We love you too. Sam and the girls say hiiiiii.

You chuckled at his last message and shook your head. You opened your door, still looking at your texts and smiling and heard Mackie say, "Someone's happy." You smiled even more and greeted him, really excited to work with him. He and Scarlet showed you around, telling you where to find the make-up trailer, cafeteria and small gym disposed for the cast. "Awesome thanks guys". "You're welcome", answered Scarlet. You arrived at the famous 'Town' and holy shit they weren't kidding, because the place was huge. You were sitting beside Chris Hemsworth and Tom Holland and were enjoying talking to them, since you hadn't had the opportunity to do so. They were telling you the magic feeling of surfing and you listened attentively, captivated by the passion they were putting into their stories. "That sounds amazing." "It really is. You somehow feel free", mentioned Hemsworth. "But besides surfing, Australia is also amazing for their wildlife : koalas, kangaroos, crocodiles, their huge spiders." At the mention of spiders, your face crisped in disgust because you hated spiders. "Seems like Y/N doesn't like spiders", remarked RDJ. You shook your head, "Nah I hate spiders, they creep me out." You heard Tom gasp in shock. "The disrespect. I feel attacked", he said mockingly, to which Mackie rolled his eyes. "Ain't sorry", you replied back with a laugh. "Ohhhhh snap", snickered Mackie proudly and you laughed louder. "Come on Y/N, not you too", sassed back Tom. You only shrugged in amusement and continued talking with other actors around the table. Since it was getting late, everyone went back to their trailers because the following day was the first day of shooting.

Following day

You didn't get much sleep because you were too excited and found yourself at the small gym at the other end of the set to do some stretches. You thought that being that early you would be alone but found some of the actors already working out. "Aren't you brave, waking up so early", said Chris Evans. "I could say the same for you", you teased back. "Ready for your first day?", he asked more seriously. You sighed and declared yes even if you were a little nervous about it all. "I know what it's like. I was a mess on the first day of Captain America : First Avenger, but then it becomes a routine and you will get used to it, you'll see." You nodded, "I hope so." You let him continue his workout while you found a little corner, isolated and planted a mattress on the ground before starting your yoga session. An hour later, you head back to your trailer, took a shower and went to the makeup trailer. You greeted the crew and let them do their magic, while going over the lines for the day.

Elizabeth soon followed and you both talked about what's going on with your lifes since last time you were together. " Your sister got a baby?", she gasped after you revealed it. "Yeah, it's a little boy. He's 3 now." "Congrats for the parents. You must be happy to be an aunt." You smiled, seeing that little monster's face in your mind and replied, "Yeah, he's so cute, already a little rebellious but it's a child right?", you chuckled. "Of course and don't forget you got to be the cool aunt." You nodded and laughed, "That's true. He was no idea what's coming".

"Y/N, five minutes and you're headed to the dressing trailer", called out one of the director's assistant. "Showtime", you breathed out to Lizzie who crossed her fingers for you, "Break a leg." You give her a wide smile and exited. Your first scene was already one were you would have to wear your suit and you couldn't contain your excitement once you put it on. "Wow, it looks amazing, thank you guys", you told the dressing staff. They smiled seeing how happy and beautiful you looked and wished you good look. While marching to the shooting set, you crossed roads with Mason who was dressed in an Iron Man suit. His whistle caught the attention of the people around and you shook your head. "You look amazing", he told you with a wide smile. "Thank you, you don't look so bad yourself." You saw him blush a little and had to bite down your lip to not let the small chuckle escape your mouth. "Iron Man, hein?", you smirked. "Yep, what can I say I am indeed a Genius, billionaire, playboy philanthropist."

Seeing him quote Tony Stark made you laugh loudly and again catch the wandering eyes of the people around. Mason was about to respond when Joe Russo called you. "Sorry have to go." Mason grabbed your hand and looked into your eyes, "Don't forget our training and you'll rock that scene. Good luck." You nodded, cherishing his support and thanked him. The Russo Brothers indicated you the position of the camera angles and their vision for the shoot. You listened to their details attentively and nodded along, saving their instructions in your brain. You walked at your standing point next to the original Avengers and took a deep breath. "And…ACTION". It took four takes for the initial dialogue and 8 takes for the fighting scene to get it in the box. "CUT !", the directors shouted. "Amazing start people. Lunch break before we head back at it, in an hour." You grabbed a bottle of water and saw the cast join you. "You did amazing dear, keep going", complimented RDJ and the others followed his comment with their own encouragements and how awesome your moves were. "Thank you guys, it means a lot", you breathed out with a wide smile. The day went by until late evening.

The days passed and you were getting more at ease with everyone, joining them whenever it was to tease someone or roast. Chris's (Evans) birthday was coming soon and you still had no idea what you would get him. It was hard to find something for someone who already had everything. You began asking discreet the others actors questions about his tastes or funny stories they could tell you. "Why all those questions regarding Chris?", asked once Scarlet with a smug smirk. Your eyes almost popped out of your skull being busted. "What? No, I'm not. Just trying to get to know you", you mumbled not convinced by your own excuse and seeing the face of Scarlet and the others, neither were they. You dropped the questions and tried to come up with something by yourself. One day you were walking beside Chris who asked you if you wanted to go over the lines with him. You agreed and he proposed to work in his trailer. He motioned you to sit down where you wanted and disposed a bottle of water in front of you. "Thanks", you smiled back. He dropped his script and phone on the table in front of both of you before asking you if you didn't mind if he left you for 5 minutes to take a fast shower. You gulp harshly, thoughts of his glorious body overflowing your mind before clearing your throat and replied, "Ehm yeah, no, no problem. You go do that."

He chuckled and fumbled through his dressing before heading at the back of the trailer. You took a gulp of the fresh water to cool you down, when the phone rang. First you thought it was yours but looking at the devices in front of you, you saw that it was Chris' phone. It wasn't your attention to sneak at it but saw his brother's name pop on the notification bar. That's when the idea of asking his brother for a birthday gift came up to you. You quickly grabbed your phone and went through Twitter and finally found Chris' brother's social media.

You hit the DM's button and wrote : "Hello how are you? My name is Y/N. This may sound weir but I'm currently working with Chris on the new Marvel movie. I'm really sorry to bother you and who knows, you probably won't even pay attention to this message but I was wondering if you could help me. I know his birthday is in a couple of weeks and was wondering if you had any idea of what he might like. I'm kinda lost here and really wanted to give him something that I know he will love. Here's my number if you prefer texting. Again sorry if I'm disturbing and I hope you have a nice day."

You were sure he wouldn't reply, probably thinking it was another fangirl, so you didn't made a lot of hopes in it. Chris got out of the shower and seeing your concerned expression he asked, "Everything alright?". You looked up to him and give him a small smile, "Yeah just a little tired is all." "If you want I can go over the lines by myself and let you rest." You shook your head, assuring him that it wasn't necessary. "Don't worry, I also have to go over the lines anyway. I don't know them by heart yet." He nodded and sat in front of you and began working on it right away. When you were done, you headed back to your trailer and checked your phone and saw a text from an unknown number.

Unknown : Hi, I'm fine. What about you? I confess that when I saw the message on Twitter I was skeptical but then I remembered Chris telling me your name and that you joined the production. It's nice to virtually meet you. Regarding me helping you, totally. Text me back whenever you have time. -Scott.

You were squealing in your bed, happy to have some guidance in that matter. You texted him back, thanking him for his reply and wrote down the small list with gift ideas you had so far. He told you that some of them were cool but that Chris already had them or did them, like the one when he was skydiving.

The past few weeks you and Scott hit it off, even texting randomly. He would ask you advice for personal matters and you would do the same. You could say that you were beginning to become friends.

You were currently training with Mason when Kevin Feige stepped inside the room, making everybody stop on what they were doing. "Y/N, can I have a second", the Marvel president said. You cleaned your face and marched towards him, your body slightly shaken, scared of what he had to tell you. "Y/N there has been a change. I'm really sorry to announce you this because you've been doing great in portraying Y/C/N but unfortunately, I'm forced to let you go and recast you." Your mouth opened wide, not believing you were getting fired. "You will still be part of the movie I can guarantee you that but you will be playing a minor character, a tech Shield agent to be exact." "Why?", was the only thing you managed to say. He saw the pain in your teary eyes and slightly bowed his head in shame. "It's not my duty to tell you the circumstances of this change but I can see how painful it is for you. Our biggest executive producer requested the change for someone else.I know this was a life changing opportunity but I had no other choice then agree to it"

You gulp harshly, hurt until the pain was subsided with anger. At this point you didn't care anymore and said, "May I say something even if this might cost my place in the production?" He nodded and you told him how you were feeling. "I understand what you're telling me and even if I shouldn't argue with that because I'm literally no one in the business to say something but it pains me. A lot. I know that one of the goals in the MCU is to promote diversity and including a plus size female playing such an important character with such an arc would have change a lot in the industry. Finally, plus size females would have had a figure, someone representing them and it's gone. It's taken from them."

"I understand your point of view but it will not change the situation. I'm giving you the opportunity to complete your contract by portraying another character. It's up to you now if you still want to do it or not", he replied back. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before exclaiming firmly, "I'll be the best tech Shield agent you'll ever see." He nodded and before he could state something else, the gym doors opened and you saw her enter the building. Goosebumps, the bad kind, raised all over your body and you breathed harshly. "Hiiii, have you heard the good news? I'm playing Y/C/N after all", spat Rebecca proudly. "Congratulations", you hissed back in fake kindness. You could see the mischief in her eyes and it made your stomach churn. "Mason", called out Kevin Feige. He sprinted to your group and heard the president tell him he would have to prepare Rebecca as fast as possible for the role. He frowned and looked back at you and saw you trying to hold it together in front of them. He was about to ask why when Feige cut him and said, "That would be all !" Mason nodded while clenching his teeth and Feige exited the room but not before handing you the new script, with your new lines. Rebecca stepped closer and whispered in your ear, "I told you, you wouldn't see the last of me. You see I made myself a promise. The promise that I would turn your life into a living hell and I think it's starting just fine." She winked at you before seductively sashaying over Mason. You were on the verge of crying and had to exit the room quickly. Mason shot you a pained and apologetic look seeing you exit the room before his features hardened once facing Rebecca who had a victorious smirk plastered on her face. "Let's get to work !", spat Mason rather harshly towards her.

You had no idea how, what was supposed to be the best moment of your life turned so shitty in matter of seconds. Little did you know that it was only the beginning.

* gifs not mine, credit to owner*

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[elizas-writing]

How I Would Fix The Last Jedi

So it’s been a while since The Last Jedi premiered and with the initial hype and anger settling down, more people are looking at it through a proper critical lens. The more posts I see critiquing The Last Jedi, the more I’m starting to realize it’s got a lot more problems than I thought. Don’t get me wrong, I still like it and found certain elements the best of the franchise, but perhaps I focused a little too much on being positive just to drown out all the anger (which to be fair, most of it was unwarranted to begin with). And thankfully now that most of the more pissy fanboys quieted down, I can post this in peace.

This film’s biggest problem was the lack of a good editor to keep the pacing consistent and allot the right amount of character development for everyone. So I’ll be addressing some of the major concerns with The Last Jedi and analyzing where and how problems could be fixed.

1. Leia’s Fate

Given Carrie Fisher’s death, some fans were anticipating Leia would possibly be killed off during The Last Jedi. But since she’s still alive at the very end, now they’re going to have to find a way to do that off screen unless they have enough spare footage from The Force Awakens and The Last Jedi to fill the gaps. To be totally fair with how much they filmed with Carrie, this was probably the best they could do without reshooting most of the film and pushing back the release date. Plus, this is the last time we’ll get to see her--- let me have Super Leia in Space. I think the only way they could work around this would be to record lines mentioning her depleting health given how long she was in space, even with using the Force to save herself. It’d at least give some foreshadowing that maybe she won’t make it to see the Rebellion win and drive our main heroes to follow in her footsteps.

2. No Memorial for Han Solo?

Yes, more than two years passed and the shock of Han Solo’s death faded for the fans, but for the characters, only mere hours passed. Leia lost her husband, Chewie lost a best friend, Rey lost a father figure, and Luke lost a brother-in-law. They should still be torn up about this, especially Luke given all his guilt on failing his nephew. It’s really hard to believe that there wasn’t even so much as a memorial for one of the greatest heroes of the Rebellion. Imagine how much more gut-wrenching the opening would be if they were caught off guard while mourning Han.

 I want more of Rey depressed and angry that the one father figure she’s known was offed by his own son without mercy. I want more of Luke’s guilt eating him which increases his reluctance towards training cause he doesn’t know if this will happen again and who else he’ll lose. Han’s death should still have a massive impact on the story and where the Resistance will go without a legendary fighter with such a special spark you won’t find anywhere else in the galaxy.

3. Admiral Holdo’s Reckless Shit

It’s really hard to gauge if I actually like Admiral Holdo because the film is back-and-forth between pulling the rug from under us with the character drama and forgetting the high stakes of their present situations. I get that Poe is hot-headed and needs to learn patience, but c’mon, you’re losing precious ships and lives the longer you stall and don’t just tell this trigger-happy nut what’s going on. She has no reason to be so secretive, and it’s just plain irresponsible given the small size of the Resistance. There’s no effort on her end as a leader to work together with some people, and unfairly talks down to them like children. And I know Leia does this too with Poe when she demoted him, but they have a quasi-mother/son dynamic where it works because they were working together longer than Poe has with Holdo. They might as well be strangers for almost two hours.

I definitely don’t hate Holdo as much as the rest of the fandom does, but we need more of her side with nuance on the divide and finding balance between fighting and self-preservation, especially as she leads in place of Leia and the two were close friends for decades. But you don’t get that connection and how much the Resistance means to her mere minutes before she dies. She comes off way too heartless than necessary for this side-plot. And it sucks because it’s a fascinating struggle between action and self-preservation in regards to rebellion and knowing when to do what to make actual progress, but it’s buried too deep in the subtext underneath the needless bickering between Holdo and Poe. Just show what she’s up to from the get-go, validate her reasoning, and allow her to be a likable character so her major sacrifice actually feels earned and not a last minute sympathy grab for Poe to learn a lesson.

4. What was Benicio del Toro’s Character Again?

Oh yeah, DJ.... I legit had to Google to remember the character’s two-letter name. And if that’s not enough to say he has no purpose in this movie, I don’t know what is. I get that he’s supposed to parallel Lando Calrissian when he tricks Han Solo back in Empire Strikes Back. But while Lando still had screentime afterwards to double-cross the Empire and join the Rebellion anyway, DJ just freaking disappears, and it’s never addressed what happens to him after turning in Finn and Rose. Honestly, if you wrote him out of the movie, it wouldn’t make much of a difference. And it sucks, because this side plot had great themes going on with war profiteering and the apathy towards both the Resistance and the First Order so long as one has something to gain from their deals.

If you’re going to parallel Lando’s arc from Empire, don’t cut it short when it’s getting good and have DJ consider the consequences of his actions, regardless if he joins the Resistance or not. Set up some foreshadowing for the next movie where DJ is completely working for the First Order or the Resistance and realizes how much picking a side does matter with rising authoritarianism. It has great potential for whether or not he’s redeemed with how long his apathy will take hold so long as he makes a quick buck.

Or better yet, just entirely replace DJ with an older Lando who lost his sense of hope with the rise of the First Order and hides away on Canto Bight waiting for age to catch up to him, living in blissful ignorance while the rest of the galaxy crumbles. He’s the decoder Finn and Rose were looking for all along and this was Maz’s way to coerce Lando back into the Rebellion. Much like Luke, Lando is reluctant to fight and see any hope, but upon hearing of Han’s death and Leia’s condition, regret eats him for all the years he spent away from his closest friends and just wasting his life on gambling and drinking. He finally agrees to help Finn and Rose, but they only get so far before getting caught by the First Order, just barely escaping with their lives and reuniting with the rest of the Resistance for the film’s climax.

5. Finn Overcoming Stormtrooper Past

I think this deleted scene speaks for itself on all the missed opportunity in developing Finn. That’s not to say he’s totally devoid of screentime as it’s still fun to see him with Rose exploring Canto Bight and getting caught up in their own misadventures. But many were hoping this would be the perfect time to explore his traumatic past and how Stormtroopers work in this world. Maybe he’d try to go back, save them from the brainwashing and help them realize they’re just senselessly murdering innocent people for nothing.

Holdo even has a line where she refers to Finn as a Stormtrooper almost in disgust, so you’d think there would be more time to show his change over to the Resistance and proving himself not just as a powerful ally, but someone who is more than their past. Someone who can finally break the cycle of children being taken away from their families to become disposable soldiers. But his battle with Phasma comes and goes so quickly and doesn’t leave as big of an impact as it should, and much like Force Awakens it feels like they’re playing great cards far too early. This deleted scene works so much better when you see the gears turning in the Stormtroopers when they realize their leader is just a massive coward, and it ends perfectly with Finn proudly calling himself “rebel scum.” It’s still beyond me why this scene was scrapped. They either needed to keep this  in or have Phasma survive and make a grand final battle for Episode IX.

I want that spark of rebellion to ignite in the Stormtroopers where they realize “wait, what the hell are we even fighting for?” and dismantle the First Order from the inside out by Episode IX. It’d make a great parallel to the prequels and Order 66 but completely recontextualized in a story of rebellion and redemption. Throw in some of the Resistance saving children from growing up into soldiers, tragically epic scenes of sacrifice, and boom, there’s a climax of Episode IX practically writing itself.

6. Shut up Ben Solo-Organa

Now, I like Kylo Ren as a villain-- he’s similar to Anakin Skywalker’s whininess in the prequels except made legitimately terrifying with the fragile toxic masculinity of wanting to be stronger and powerful by any means necessary. However, I can’t do the woobifying, both from large sects of the fandom and Rian Johnson. I would be a lot more forgiving of his character development in The Last Jedi if Johnson made Kylo Ren’s intents more clear without implying any romance between him and Rey-- fucking really (and sorry, not sorry, the only thing I ship Kylo with is a swift kick in the ass).

I get that we need temptations of the dark side as part of the classic Star Wars story, and I love the twist on it where Kylo turning to the dark side was ultimately his choice and not because Luke failed him-- especially as killing Snoke didn’t flip him back to the light like when Vader killed the Emperor. But the heart of that particular recontextualization should be on the student-teacher relationship between Rey and Luke and not Kylo Ren sniveling like an infant. It walks a thin line of making Kylo Ren almost too sympathetic and forgetting how he ended up with the First Order to begin with. I don’t care how many puppy dog faces he makes; as shown by the end of the film, he’s not ready for redemption, if it will ever be in his grasp. His excess screentime of what we already know undermines Rey and Luke’s relationship which should be the focus of the former’s arc in The Last Jedi. But unfortunately, it isn’t as strong as it was with Luke and Yoda or Obi-wan and Anakin because the film has to juggle with a dozen other plotlines and characters.

Hopefully with J.J Abrams back in the directing chair, maybe he can steer the focus back on the films and what the fans really want. Granted, I don’t think The Last Jedi deserved nearly the level of vitriol it got within the last year, but even I couldn’t ignore some of the major problems and missed opportunities to get its themes across.

If you enjoyed this fix-it and what I do here, consider buying me a ko-fi to show your support!

[cas-backwards-tie]

Something New

Jason Todd x Reader + Damian

Request:  they go to a carnival or somewhere or a mall or a pet cafe with Titus,  doing a mother and son bonding kind of thing or family bonding! and then Damian starts to act like a normal kid, being excited and all without knowing it himself and when he does he gets all embarrassed and 'these are for kids' 😭😭👌❤ and maybe if they're doing family bonding Jason responds 'but you ARE a KID'. OH THEY CAN ALSO MAYBE TRY SOMETHING NEW, IDUNNO, THAT CAUSES DAMIAN TO MAKE WEIRD FACES XD maybe like, weird foods? I'M A TOTAL FOODIE CANT HELP IT XD I'M SORRY FOR THE SPAM, I just love the idea Damian being fluffy and cuddly- I LOVE KIDS they're so cutee.

Warnings: None?

A/N: This is for you @thatawesomenerdygirl, and literally I’m in such a Jason mood today! Also, if you haven’t seen a street carnival before, they do them a lot in Bolivia around the holidays so that’s what I’m referring to. I swear I’ve been to this carnival in Bolivia. Also, I was imaging Jason in this outfit from @inkydandy ‘s beautiful comic.

Despite everyone shipping me with Dick, I still love Jason <3 (I love Dick too)

“I can’t believe I actually got the both of you to go ice-skating! All because of that one comment.” You laugh whole-heartedly, clutching your stomach as you make sure your hat stays atop your head.

“Well, you weren’t wrong... ice-skating does require balance and skill.... something only a trained assassin would be able to easily maneuver.” Damian says cockily as a big grin displays itself across his face. Gripping Titus’ leash a little tighter Jason gives him a glare, soon turning into a smirk.

“One... why do you always have to talk like that? and, easily maneuver? You fell down literally almost thirty times!” Jason laughs, ending up with Damian giving him a death stare.

“You fell down just as much as me! Y/N had to hold your hands the whole time!” You try to contain your laughter as it was true... you really did have to hold Jason’s hands the whole time, which was really cute if you were being honest... however, Jason didn’t think this was cute considering his little brother learned to skate all on his own.

“Hey, hey! Let’s not fight, okay? It’s a nice day and okay, yeah... you both failed and fell a LOT, but whatever... you should’ve seen me the first time I went ice-skating, I fell down probably the same amount of times as well as held the railing the whole time” you joke, hoping to distract them.

“Really?” Damian asks with a child-like curiosity and intrigue. 

“Yeah! It was hilarious! Well.... not for me, but still... it takes practice, just like anything else.” You guys walk a little further with questions and small talk few and far between.

“Hey, look! Damian, have you ever had a funnel cake?” You nudge his side as you gesture with your head to the little street carnival a few yards away at the other side of the park.

“Funnel cake? What’s tha-”

“Remember when Grayson made us all go to the circus with him? And he gave you that dough-thing with powdered sugar and chocolate? that’s a funnel cake.” Jason explains as we walk down the fork of the path which leads to the small booths set up randomly along the path.

You were stumped. You wanted to get Damian to try something else new today, but what else was there... you looked at the signs and eventually you found it! “Okayyyy... BUT, have you tried fried oreos?” Jason raises a brow at you in question. Damian looks at you incredulously, as if you had suggested the most disgusting thing in the world.

“Fried... oreos?” Jason pulls his hat a bit further down, over his ears.

“Yeah... they sound gross, trust me- my friend had to practically force me to try them but they’re actually pretty good. Plus! We can get hot chocolate or apple cider or something.” You suggest as you take Damian’s hand and lead him over to the food booth.

“Why don’t you go pick out a table?” You grab quite a few napkins before stuffing them in Damian’s hands, shooing him over to the plastic picnic tables which stood in rows under another tent.

“I’ll pay.” Jason places Titus’ leash in his other hand while he fishes around in his coats pocket. Taking out his wallet he asks the man ‘how much’, before he pays. 

“Does your dog like treats?” an young women says as she stops in front of you, having interrupted her run judging by her outfit.

“Uh... yeah?” You’re skeptical, and hope this isn’t someone trying to poison Titus.

“Can I give him a treat? I just bring treats with me when I run because people always bring there dogs here.” She gestures to her fanny pack and unzips it, pulling out a small ziplock bag.

“Uh....” you look back at Jason who was chatting with the man inside the little kitchen as you waited for the food. “Sure” you offer a small shrug as you figure ‘why not?’. Everyone in Gotham isn’t a bad person.

The lady places the treat down in front of Titus, who just looks at it. “You can eat it Titus,” you chuckle lightly as he gives in, chomping up the small jerky-like treat the lady had placed on the ground. Titus licks his lips when he’s finished and looks up at the lady, wagging his tail subtly. “Thank you,” you smile at the woman, bidding her goodbye.

“Yeah, of course! I just like doing something for the dogs, you know?” She gives a soft smile before waving back and jogging off. Turning around you’re faced with Jason turning around with a paper plate in his hand. 

“Can you get the drinks?” He asks before gripping Titus’ leash a little tighter.

“Yeah, of course.” You give him a quick kiss on the cheek as you grab the drinks. Watching Jason blush even a little was the most heart-warming gift you could receive as you flustered him, walking ahead of him you make it to the picnic table Damian seemed to be waiting at impatiently. “Did you make a friend?” 

You laugh as you watch a baby sitting two tables away smiling at Damian with goo-goo eyes. Damian stares right back at the baby, not hesitating as he inspects it. “No... but they won’t stop staring! It’s kind of creepy.”

“So... Mr. J isn’t creepy but a baby is?” Your face contorts with an amused sort of confusion.

“I never said he wasn’t creepy, pleeeassee... he’s SO so creepy, but this baby...” Damian scrunches his nose in disgust.

“Do you really hate babies that much? What if you had a niece or nephew?” You question, sliding Damian’s apple cider towards him from across the table.

Jason chokes on his own drink as your eyes widen, whipping your head towards him. “Are you okay?” You reactively pat him on the back lightly. 

“Y-yeah...” Jason clears his throat before looking down at Titus and giving him a few pats on the head.

“Anyways, these are actually really good so everyone has to try one!” You watch and wait to take your own as Jason grabs one with no hesitation while Damian cautiously grabs one, inspecting it.

“Fried... oreos?” You nod at him, waiting for him to take a bite, “And it’s good...?” You nod again, encouraging him to go on.

You reach to grab your own as Damian slowly raises the ball to his mouth. As you reach to grab your own, Jason is reaching for his second and you just look at him giggling. “See, Damian? They’re good.” Looking from Jason to Damian you see Damian take his first bite, his face contorting to disgust.

“Do you not like it?” You feel a bit of minuscule guilt wash over you like a wave at having somewhat forced him to eat it.

“I don’t think I really tasted it.” Damian takes another bite, chewing it his face turns into one of contemplation, then to a surprised ‘not half bad’ frown as he nods his head. “They’re alright... they’re pretty good.” Damian gives his approval, leaving you to eat your own.

Walking along the booths Damian sees a dart game, “OOH! Can we play Y/N, pleeeasse?” Damian begs.

...Since when does Damian beg? What the hell? Okay... “Yeah, sure!” you reply cheerily as you race to the nearby tent, Titus running way faster than you, almost working you rather than the other way around. 

Once you’ve paid for your game Jason finally gets to the tent, standing between you and Damian. “Jason can play the winner, yeah?” You turn to Damian before you start throwing your darts, Damian already focused on the target. “Only if you want to” You turn to tell him.

“Okay... sure” You watch Jason smile before turning back to start your game. Going up against two trained vigilantes who can easily throw a batarang at a target more than five feet away, or even shoot a man from a ten yards away.... yeah... not your best challenged you’d set yourself up for, but it was more for fun than for the idea of winning.

“I won! I won!” Damian jumps up and down excitedly. The man asks Damian what small prize he’d like, and he looks up contemplating.

Damian picks out a stuffed baby Charmander as the man gives it to him he hugs it tight. “Those are for kids, Damian” Jason taunts, trying to get him to give a reaction in return.

“Uh-huh, okay Todd... you’re on.” Damian sets baby Charmander on the ledge of the booth and asks the man how to get the REALLY big stuffed animals.

Both of the boys take their time throwing their darts, Damian has his game face on as he hits the bullseye every time. “I won! Again!” Damian cries as the man asks which stuffed animal he wants this time. 

Jason grumbles to himself at the loss, figuring it’d be easy to beat his little brother. “Hey... if you really wanted the prize you can ask Dami to get it for you.” You smile at him, teasing him. 

Damian ends up getting a teddy bear three times his size which Jason has to carry on his back for him as Damian takes Titus, while I take Damian’s little Charmander. “And you said that they were for kids.” Damian scoffs.

“but you ARE a kid! And who said I wasn’t? I’ll always be a kid, right Babe?” Jason turns and kisses you chastely while still walking.

“Right!” You say cheerily, happy with how the day had gone.

You loved seeing Damian get to be a kid, as it always brought out the best parts of him, but you also loved seeing Jay get to be childish too... in a good way because sometimes he forgets the good things in life, and you’re determined to show him the good, little things every single day for as long as you live.

[psychosunflower-blog]

Size||Why don't we||Preference four♡

Summary: You struggle with your size, even though they think you are the most beautiful girl in the world.

Words:3406

Warnings:None

Requested:Not on here

A/n:Every single one of you are beautiful! Taken from my Wattpad:)

Daniel Seavey- You stood in the room you and Daniel shared at the Why Don't we house, your shirt rolled up to the bottom of your bra, as tears streamed down your face. When you were younger you were a little heavier than most, causing some asshole people to make fun of it and you. Over the last 2 years you had started working out 3 times a week and you had noticed a huge difference from how you once looked and felt, some of that having to do with working out and some of that having to do with Daniel, he had made you feel so incredibly beautiful. Your mental health along with your actual health had been improving so much and not a day went by where Daniel didn't tell you that he was proud of you and that you were beautiful, he knew how much you struggled with your self image and did anything he could to help you. But all the hard work you had seem to do undid its self a few days ago, the words replaying in your head over and over again.

You and Daniel had gone out to eat lunch, he had been so busy in the studio that he hadn't had much time to spend with you over the last week so he had taken you out to a nice lunch before you spent the day together.

After you had sat down, he excused himself to the bathroom after telling you want he wanted so you would order for the two of you.

When the waitress from the restaurant came over to the table where the two of you sat by the window you could instantly tell she wasn't in the best mood, so you tried to be extra nice and smile more, thinking maybe she had just dealt with a really rude person and could use one.

After you had told her what Daniel had wanted you glanced at the menu one more time before shutting it and tell her what you wanted. Instead of writing it down, she looked at you with an eyebrow raised.

"You sure you want to order that?" She asked, you looked at her confused. Was it bad?

"Yeah why?" You asked, your voice a little softer than it had once been.

"Its a lot of calories,Maybe try a salad honey. If you get any fatter he isn't gonna stick around" She laughed before writing down what you had once ordered and then snatched the menu from your hands and walked away, shaking her head in the process.

You looked down at your hands, tears brimming in your eyes.

You were taken out of your thoughts when Daniel opened the door and walked through, stopping right away when he saw the tears following down your face. You quickly shoved your shirt down and walked over to the bed, sitting down and wiping the tears away that were falling from your eyes.

"Baby, whats wrong?" he asked, shutting the door behind him and getting on the bed, sitting criss cross apple sauce facing you.

"Am I getting fat to you?" you blurted out, shock and sadness plastered his face. Daniel never really understood why you were so self conscious, from the moment he met you he thought you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and even though he was proud of you for working out and trying to better yourself he never even thought for a second that you needed to lose weight and he could've cared less if you gained. You would always be perfect to him, no matter what.

"What baby? No why would you ask that?" He asked, reaching his arms out and pulling you onto his lap, your head now leaning on his shoulder as your legs hung over his lap and on the bed.

"When we went for lunch the other day.. you went to the bathroom and when I ordered for myself she asked me if I was sure thats what I wanted because it was a lot of calories and she told me if I got any fatter you wouldn't stick around"You told him, not looking into his eyes anymore as you whispered the ended, not wanting to say it yourself.

"Excuse me?" He asked, anger breaking out all over his face.

"She said what?!" He hissed. He brought his fingers to your chin, making your head tilt up and your eyes connect with his.

"Y/n, you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my whole life. I thought that from the moment you walked into the Bakery that day and Ive thought it everyday since. If you lose fifty pounds or gain fifty pounds you will still be the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on. Please don't listen to a stupid girl like her. I love you so much babygirl and nothing you could ever say or do would make me leave you, even more so over something silly like weight. I love you for you, not what you look like.”

Jack Avery- You sat on the couch in the living room of the Why Don't we house, looking through the comments of the most recent post Jack had posted of the two of you. Hating yourself more as you continued.

You had always been skinny, skinnier than most. When you were 13 you were diagnosed with an over working thyroid, which meant it burned off an extreme amount of calories causing not a lot of fats to stay in your body. It was something you were extremely self conscious about, you felt like everyone judged you as soon as they saw you and being in a bathing suit was something you had absolutely hated, and of course that was what you were wearing in the photo. Daniel had taken the photo of the two of you when you, the boys and a few of their girlfriends had a pool party. From the moment Jack saw it he fell in love with it, the way the two of you were looking at each other seemed to capture the love you two shared, but what you and everyone seemed to see was how Skinny you were.

Wdwfanforever Does she even eat?

Seaveymydaniel her legs or a stick? 99% Of americans can't tell the difference

Jackypooavery Someone get this girl a burger

And that was just the start of them, there were hundreds of them,  basically all saying the same thing. On some level you had always hoped people wouldn't notice, that it was just a you thing but after today you knew it wasn't

"Hey baby whats up?" Jack asked, smiling at you as he walked in. You quickly shut your phone off and sat up to meet his eyes.

"Nothing really, just trying to figure out what show to watch on netlfix. I was texting Adi for some advice" You lied, giving jack a fake smile. The only other time you had gotten hate was when you two had first went public with your relationship and Jack was absolutely furious.

"Jack have you seen all the comments on your post?" Daniel frowned coming into the living room with his phone in his hand. While Jack looked to Daniel you shook your head fast, hoping he would get the hint and drop it, but Jack looked back at you before you could stop and scrunched his eyebrows together looking back and fourth between the two of you.

He pulled out his phone when you stopped him, taking his hands and phone in yours before making eye contact with him.

"Jack, really its nothing. Please just let it go and don't get angry" You pleaded, but then Daniel opened his mouth.

"Its not nothing Y/n!" He said, Daniel had been your best friend growing up, him being the one who introduced the two of you and he had always been protective of you.

"Daniel please!" You yelled standing up, looking at him somewhat angrily in his eyes.

"Would someone please tell me what the fuck is going on!" Jack said, now leaving his spot from the couch and standing up as well.

Daniel handed Jack his phone, of course already on the post with the comments on his screen.

Jack sat back down has his face fell, reading comment after comment.

"Could you give us a second?" He asked, talking to Daniel but not lifting his eyes up from the phone, not stopping reading more and more comments. Daniel didn't say anything, he just nodded and walked out of the room. He shut the phone off and threw it on the couch, sticking his hand up, reaching for yours. Once yours and Jacks hands connected he gently pulled you to him and sat you on his lap.

Jacks hands cupped your cheeks before his eyes locked with yours.

"When I first met you I knew I was falling in love with you when I saw you having that eating competition with Jonah, and the best part was you won" He started causing you to giggle but your eyes never unlocking with his.

"I know we never talk about how self conscious you are, I catch you looking at your body in the mirror after a shower or the way you feel uncomfortable when you aren't wearing a hoodie. I never bring it up because I never want to upset you, but so many times have I been sitting and watching you while you laugh or when you break out into those terrible dance moves of yours when one of our songs play and overtime all I can think about is how fucking beautiful you are. Y/n, you are the most beautiful girl Ive ever seen, everyday you take my breath away and weather you are 100 pounds or 200 pounds my opinion on you will never change" Once he finished you had tears threatening to fall, god you loved this boy.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, placing with the hair that laid around the base before putting your forehead on his.

"I love you so much Jack Avery"

Jonan Marias- "You aren't fat per say, you're just a plus size model" Your friend told you as you took a bite from your chicken wrap as the two of you were at lunch. You instantly stopped eating your food and put it back down on the plate your face dropping completely as you pushed the food away from you, no longer hungry.

"Excuse me?" a guy asked, raged filling his whole voice, looking between you're friend and you. You had no idea who he was, but he was hands down the most beautiful human you had ever seen in your life. He was tall and had brown hair, with the most beautiful blue eyes you had ever seen.

"What?" Your friend snapped, obviously not liking the tone he was using. The boy looked at her in disgust while you just sat there watching.

"Why would you say something like that?" He asked, you had no idea why a stranger would get so angry over a comment like this, your 'friend' said stuff like this to you all the time and even though you tried to get use to it, it still hurt a little.

"Well its the truth" She said, rolling her eyes as she took another bite of her salad.

"The truth? The truth is she is one of the most beautiful girls Ive ever seen. The truth is that when I walked through the door my heart started beating a little faster once I saw her. The truth is that she deserves a hell of a lot better friends than you" He snapped, causing a blush to break out on your face as the two of you locked eyes, he winked at you before turning his attention back to the bitch eating in front of you.

"I think Im gonna go, Call me next week" She snapped, picking up her bag and rolling her eyes.

"Yeah she won't be doing that. I hope you step in dog shit" He called just before she walked out the door causing you to explode into a fit of giggles.

"Now, Im Jonah and Id like to buy you coffee" He said, taking a seat where your friend had once sat.

"Im y/n" You smiled, looking into his eyes once again.

Zach Herron- The boys had gotten a brand deal with Adidas, they had pictures of a group and then each boys had pictures with a different girl, and of course you couldn't help but stair at Zachs picture. Although you knew it was a photo shoot you couldn't help but feel a pang in your chest, the way he was holding her skinny body, the way their faces were lit up with happiness, it hurt you. You always felt like Zach could do better, he could go out and find someone prettier, skinner, someone who would look better with him, but he chose you and everyday you wondered why more and more than the last.

"Whats wrong?" Jonah asked, walking outside to the patio where you sat, you hadn't realized the frown that was forming on your face until you looked up to see Jonah with a worried expression on his face. Since you had moved into the Why don't we house Jonah had become like an older brother to you, he cared about you the way a brother would and even Zach had to admit that the two of you had adorable brother/sister moments that the fans just loved.

He sat on the end of the lounge as you brought your feet up to your chest. You handed him your phone, his face filling with confusion.

"Why are you looking at this?" He questioned, feeling like he knew the answer already.

"Because look at her, he could do so much better than me. She's so much prettier than me, she's skinner and her smile looks amazing. The way they look at each other makes me realize that maybe Im not what Zach wants anymore, not when he knows he could have someone like her" You told Jonah.

"Y/n.." Zach said from behind you, causing you to jump. Your face went pale, not wanting him to hear the words that had left your mouth.

"Im gonna go" Jonah trailed off, putting your phone beside your feet and running inside, knowing that the two of you had a lot to talk about now.

Zach took Jonah's spot at the end of your feet, taking one of your hands in his.

"She will never be better than you, no one ever will be. No one else's eyes will sparkle like Diamonds in the sun, at least not like yours does. No ones laugh with make my heart melt completely overtime, not like yours does. No one will make me want to get out of bed everyday and make amazing things happen, not like you do. No one will make me fall in love all over again just by one simple kiss, not the way you do. You are one of a kind, you are it for me. Y/n your body is perfect to me, I love the way it fits in mine at night, I love the way your thighs touch and all your curves that seem to be placed in every right way. You are so fucking beautiful to me. All those girls you say I could get, I don't even notice them. Why would I when I already have my everything right in front of me?"

"I love you so much Zach Herron" You whispered before bringing his face close to yours, pressing your lips on his soft pink ones.

Corbyn Besson- Corbyn and the boys were having a pool party, at first you were a little excited. Although the idea of you in a bathing suit was something you weren't a fan of it was fine because you were comfortable with the boys and you knew that you wouldn't be judged. But your attitude changed quickly when Corbyn had told you that it was going to become more of a party as there were more people coming over. 'Great' You thought to yourself.

At first you had told corybn that you weren't going to come anymore, telling him that you weren't really a party person and He knew that a lot of people in the same space caused you anxiety but he had promised to stay right by your side the whole night and that you two would leave if it all got too over whelming for you. With his puppy dog face and his "Please baby's" You couldn't say no to the boy you were helplessly in love with so you said yes.

You were now at the party, in a bathing suit and feeling extremely uncomfortable, you stood outside by the pool, having a conversation with Jacks girlfriend who you were extremely close too and Corbyn.

"Im gonna go get us a drink okay? Ill be right back" He smiled, kissing your cheek and leaving. You had continued the conversation with Jacks girlfriend until a guy walked up to you, right away you could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Hey beautiful, why don't we go check out the rooms upstairs" He winked, the idea of throwing up had never sounded like a better idea.

"Um, I don't think her boyfriend would like that very much" Corbyn said coming back with two drinks in his hand, you looked him in the eyes, slightly thanking him for saving you.

"Eh its whatever. She's fat anyways" He chuckled, Cobyn put the drinks down and walked over to him.

"You might want to shut the fuck up" Corbyn snapped, his face red with anger.

"Oh yeah, and what are you gonna do if I don't?" The drunk man asked, stepping closer to Corbyn, who was now only inches apart from him. Corbyn brought his hand back, ready to punch the man when you grabbed it quickly and pulled him back. His eyes met yours and his face softened when he saw the tears threatening to fall.

"Its not worth it, please walk away" You told him, your voice breaking at the end. Jonah and the rest of the boys had heard what happen from Jacks girlfriend and all had rushed outside to see the scene that had just unfolded in front of you.

"Im gonna go get changed" You whispered, his eyes scanning yours before you let go of him and walked into the crowed house and up the stairs to Corbyns room where your overnight bag sat int the corner.

Once you had changed you decided to stay upstairs, not wanting any more social interaction for today, you had simply had enough. You were reading a book on your phone when the door opened and a still upset looking corbyn came walking in to see next to you.

"What he said wasn't true"He said, slightly gripping your chin and brought your face up to eye level.

"You are beautiful, inside and out. I love you y/n" He told you before bringing you into a kiss. He didn't need to give you some huge speech, the way he kissed you made you feel beautiful and honestly that was all you needed.

Maybe that guy didn't get to check out the rooms upstairs, but you and Corbyn did that night;).

_____

If you couldn't tell this imagine was about you struggling with your body. I wrote this because I know many people do, weather it be because you feel to big or too small. I personally struggle with body image issues and I know how it can effect people.

Im hoping that this made some of you feel better if you struggle with the same thing. But I just want you all to know that you are all extremely beautiful people!

[flints-silver]

to survive in peace and harmony ch. 1 - faith/buffy

~As the Scoobies are preparing for the battle with The First, Buffy is also dealing with her own problems such as 1) training the potentials and trying not to die, 2) Faith being back in town and 3) a never before heard of demon that is somehow able to kill her every night in her dreams. But what happens when Faith is apparently the only one who can slay the demon? Will they be able to move beyond their past in order to help each other? And what about the weird feelings they have to deal with when they're forced to share a bed...

(Season 7 shameless, angsty forced bedsharing AU!) ** warning for canon typical violence **

also on ao3!

*

He—or it—is coming at her again. The gelatinous blob rolls itself forward in a heaving motion and another mass bubbles up into existence right next to her. Its electric green tentacle, dripping pus from its many open orifices, swipes at her, narrowly missing the soft skin on the front of her neck. Buffy swings her sword at it again, but as usual, it passes through the being without causing even the slightest damage whatsoever. The green thing (monster, demon, God Buffy has no fucking idea) is spilling towards Buffy at rapid speeds now, looking almost like a giant sized river of green jelly running down someone’s giant sized cafeteria tray. Except Buffy knows better, and she knows what’s coming next. But not this time. She drops the sword and runs.

She runs and runs and runs, through the unfamiliar, empty city, so creepy and devoid of life, so far that her lungs feel like they’re about to burst and her legs are quivering. She almost thinks she’s made it this time, until she feels the icy cold goo run over her right foot and grab hold. It yanks her ankle and she pitches forward instantly, just managing not to smash her face on the asphalt highway as she catches herself with her hands. She can feel the wet mass slinking up over her back, slowly now, now that it knows that it has her, and she gives up. She allows her body to sink into the road and rest, finally. It’ll be over quickly. The slime slowly covers her form. It spreads out over the pavement until she’s completely encased, and then slowly, almost with a grotesque attempt at seduction, it starts filling her mouth. Even though Buffy knows that nothing will work, her body can’t help but try not to be invaded. Her stomach convulses as Buffy attempts to spit out the disgusting fluid, and when it doesn’t work she starts choking and coughing, trying to force the disgusting stuff back out of her throat. That doesn’t work either, and soon she can feel her entire body swelling, being consumed with and by the neon sludge. She’s growing light headed as her airway is completely cut off. Her head grows fuzzy and her eyes become clouded with black spots, and she feels the by-now familiar death spams beginning. It’s different from her other deaths. More violent, more visceral, more violating. The pus starts burning her organs away, but thankfully she’s unaware as her eyes roll back in her head and her chest stops moving. Buffy is dead.

Buffy stifles a scream and shoots up into a sitting position in her bed. She’s gasping for air, shaking as the memory of the dream runs through her mind over and over. She pulls the white sheet down off of her hot chest and wipes her trembling hand over her face, finding it damp with tears.

Well this is getting really freaking old, she thinks sarcastically, even as she’s trying to get control on her body’s outward signs of terror. She allows herself a few minutes to catch her breath, then hops out of bed, determined to clean up and scrub away any traces of the dream off her body before she goes back downstairs. They still have an apocalypse to deal with after all. Plus everyone will worry if they see her all freaked, especially Dawn. If there’s anything Buffy can do to ensure that her sister is not more scared then she has to be during this shit storm, she’ll do it. As she steps into the shower she notices that her right ankle is throbbing. Buffy looks down and sees that it’s puffy and swollen. It feels fractured, maybe broken, and the vaguely sick, achy feeling that her body’s developed over the last few days has gotten worse. Great.

Once Buffy’s washed and dressed she tip toes down the stairs, and takes a deep breath before plunging into the dire atmosphere of the living room. Even the fearless leader gets intimidated during let’s-all-discuss-how-we-can-possibly-not-die-y times. The group is huddled over some books that Giles has brought over. Willow is murmuring quietly in a worried tone, Kennedy standing behind her with a comforting hand on her shoulder. Xander is hunched over with his hand covering his mouth and chin, with Anya pretending to study a book while sneaking peeks at him.

“Buff! Nap time over?” Xander asks as he shakes himself from his worried state and notices her walking into the room. Buffy takes care not to limp or show any signs of pain.

“Yeah…. I’m rested enough for now,” Buffy replies as cheerfully as she can as she lowers herself into an armchair in the circle. “I figured I needed to stop slacking and come back down here and get cracking.” She frowns at her unintentional rhyme.

“You’re a poet!” Dawn crows as she laughs at Buffy’s embarrassed frowny face.

“I don’t think so. More like an...rhymey-word-user-person,” Buffy tries to quickly divert attention away as Dawn keeps laughing at her. “Anyway. Willow, what were you talking about just now?”

“Um...well, another potential’s dead. Her name was Jessica, she had almost made it to us...but they caught her running on foot just outside of Sunnydale. And Spike found a giant underground nest of ubervamps. He couldn’t take care of it himself, so he thinks we should gather up a group and go later. But...what about you? Any...dream wigginess?”

“There was...a little bit of dream wigginess,” Buffy answers reluctantly. She hates making people worry about her. She really wishes she had better news, and that Dawn wasn’t here to hear this right now. Sure, she may be as old as many of the potentials, but she’s her little sister, her responsibility.

Willow’s brow wrinkles anxiously. “Did you...die again?”

“Yeah. Same old, same old. They’re just dreams though, Will. Definitely not more pressing than the impending apocalypse. I’m almost getting bored of them actually. This guy’s gonna have to whip up something a little more original if he wants to get to me.” She hopes she’s hiding how scared and tired and defeated she actually is. She hasn’t told them about the aches and pains. Now’s so not the time to be Drama Buffy, she has to be Army Leader Buffy. Maybe she should have stayed with Riley. Aren’t boyfriends supposed to pick up the slack for their significant others, or is that exclusive to normal girls?

“Yes, of course, however it is concerning, Buffy,” Giles states as he rubs at the lens of his glasses. “Even in dreams, a monster defeating you over and over is quite unusual, and worrisome. The coincidence of the timing cannot be overlooked. If The First should have something to do with this, it could prove to be...extremely dangerous. And once we figure out what it’s plan is it might be too late. It bears looking into.”

“We’ve looked into it, Giles. And we can’t find any information on a giant gooey green demon thingy that can kill people in their dreams anywhere. If it is The First attacking, we have to focus on it’s more pressing forms of attack first: the ubervamps and the bringers. Girls are dying. And if it’s not The First, then the dreams can definitely wait. I’ll be fine.” General Buffy was out, and she wasn’t about to argue.

Giles purses his lips and adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose, but neglects to reply. Willow bites her lip and glances around the group uneasily. Dawn crosses her arms over her chest and sticks her bottom lip out in the patented Summers’ Pout, staring at Buffy with big blue eyes that seem to say you’re being dumb and an idiot.

“Look, Buffy, I’m gonna say what everyone else here is thinking,” Kennedy speaks up in a loud voice. “Don’t be a martyr. You want to make sure you do your job and that girls stop dying on your watch and that we kick this bitch in the ass, cool. But don’t go hurting yourself to make it happen. ‘Cause if we end up taking a fall ‘cause our de facto leader is compromised because she feels the need to crucify herself, that’ll be really stupid.”

Buffy closes her eyes and blows her breath out, trying to tame her annoyance so she won’t snap at the potential. “That’s not what I’m doing, Kennedy, but thanks as always for your input. We have no leads on this dream stuff. We do, however, have leads on the other stuff. So that’s what I’m suggesting we focus on. If you come up with a better plan, make sure to let me know,” Buffy looks intently at Kennedy, who just stares back. “Great,” Buffy turns her gaze to Willow, “now, where’s Spike? Let’s come up with a plan for taking out this vamp nest. And...Faith? She should probably be here if she actually wants to help.” Buffy’s still having a hard time with this whole Faith being around thing, but she’s trying to hide it, or at least not make it super obvious. It probably isn’t working though. But Jesus, Faith just waltzes back into her life, bringing all of her usual chaos along for the ride and all of Buffy’s old negative feelings back up to the surface, basically throwing gas on the forest fire that is this entire situation, and everyone just expects Buffy to be totally cool with it?

“Spike will be back soon. He’s checking that any stray ubervamps from the nest haven’t wandered too close to camp. He said he’ll take out any individual ones he sees, and come get us for groups. I sent Faith grocery shopping—or more like grocery looting—with the potentials. They should be back soon too.”

“I bet she’s having fun with that,” Buffy cracks a small smile thinking about Faith trying to manage dozens of rowdy teens in an abandoned shopping center. Serves her right.

[sucaritra]

Bāṛi - Chapter 13

Word Count: 1937

Warnings: language, anxiety, Negan

Summary: haircut and dinner

A/N: so sorry for the wait! let me know how i’m doing

Masterlist

“I wanna cut your hair.”

“You're not going anywhere near my hair.”

“Oh, please?! I love Negan but it gets so damn boring in the boudoir. C’mon, let me at least even it out a little?”

“Hmm.” At Sherry’s pitiful puppy dog eyes, you conceded. “Fine! I guess it could do with a trim.”

You managed to finish work a little early today and met up with Sherry in the stairwell for a quick smoke. James was out scavenging who knows where and everyone else will still be working, so you figured hanging out with Sherry would be better than going back to your room.

With all of the new residents streaming in over the past few months, the communal living area was even more cramped and smellier than ever. You tried to spend as little time in there as possible these days.

Waiting for Sherry to be done with her smoke, you catch sight of Mason making his way up the stairs. He doesn't linger, sending a wink your way as he marches on up, heading towards Negan’s office.

Following Sherry through the double doors and down the corridor towards the boudoir, you try and take in everything you can. Though you have walked past the fifth floor doors everyday on your way up to the office, and not to mention your, albeit slightly odd,  friendship with Sherry, you have never actually seen what Negan and his wives’ living area is like.

Suffice it to say, you were pretty damn curious.

The corridor alone was better looking than the rest of the Sanctuary, with various artwork lining the walls and fake potted plants dotted along as you went.

You followed Sherry through a set of intricately carved wooden doors that were just a touch more extravagant than the office doors, immediately feeling as though you’d entered another world.

Rich, velvet curtains, plush rugs, ottomans, chaise lounges - the room had it all and more. You were in complete awe of the luxury these women were living in. You knew that they had it good, being with the boss and all, but you had no idea of the sheer amount of grandeur they resided in. While it’s not exactly a huge surprise, given who Negan is and his tendency for showmanship, it sure was jarring to the senses.

“This is fucking amazing.” Your wide eyes greedily took in everything around you, before landing where the glorious smell of a home-cooked meal was coming from. To the right of you was a modest sized kitchenette where two of the wives were busy cooking.

Taking notice of you, they both smile politely before quickly resuming their tasks, flitting from one countertop to another.

“That's Tanya and Kira. Lovely girls. You'll like ‘em.”

Turning back to Sherry, half forgetting she was even there, you find that she's already walking away from you down a little narrow hallway to the left. Unsure if you're meant to follow, you slowly make your way towards her direction, only to awkwardly stumble back to avoid colliding with her as she promptly returns holding a little cosmetics bag.

“C’mon, this way.” It was quite amusing watching Sherry take charge and order you about, considering your entire friendship was just you stealing her cigarettes.

You follow her into a decent sized bathroom, closing the door behind you, and frown at her when she gestures you to sit in the chair she’s placed facing away from the sink.

“I said just a trim. You don't need to wash my hair for that.”

“Oh, c’mon, let an ol’ girl have some fun.”

“This is your idea of fun?”

“It’s what I used to do before. I miss it. I don't get to do it nearly as much as I’d like to these days.”

Rolling your eyes at her second attempt to manipulate you with her doe eyes, you exaggerate a sigh before dropping down in the chair. Placing a towel around your neck, Sherry gently tips your head back and begins the process of shampooing and conditioning your hair.

And that's when it happens.

You have no idea where it came from, but all of a sudden you find yourself trying to stifle your sobs as waves of tears pour from your eyes. You're suddenly feeling incredibly overwhelmed and try to regulate your breathing as you feel Sherry softly comb your hair with her fingers to evenly distribute the shampoo all the way through.

Alarmed, Sherry takes notice of your hitching breath and abruptly stops.

“Oh my god, did I hurt you? Did I get shampoo in your eye? What's wrong?”

“Nothing! Nothing, really, I think. I don’t even know why I’m so upset!” Your voice wobbles terribly and you're sniffling, trying to regain your composure, but it’s a losing battle.

“Oh, sweetheart! It’s okay! Aw, it’s alright. Believe it or not, this isn't the first time this has happened.”

“Really?”

Smiling sweetly at your hopeful expression, she replies, “Really! Honestly, the first time I did Amber’s hair she started bawling her eyes out. It’s just one of those things, getting your hair done, get’s you feeling all nostalgic and thinking about the times before, about your life before all of this mess, all of the simple things you didn't realise you missed and the people left behind.”

You mulled that over, realizing why it was that you suddenly fell apart.

“I think it was ‘cause the last person to wash my hair like this was my mum.” A broken sob escapes your lips before you’re able to continue, “we hardly ever went to the hairdressers, only occasionally treating ourselves on our birthdays since it was always too expensive for us to go regularly. I try not to think about her, you know, cause it’s too hard to accept the real possibility of what's happened to her. And I feel so guilty for not thinking about her, cause I miss her so fucking much… I just… I don’t know, too much is just hitting me at once.”

Sherry, bless her fucking heart, listens sympathetically to your ramble before hugging you tightly with shining eyes. You imagined she was thinking of her own family as she held onto you a little tighter, breathing deeply. No words were said, because, truly, there are no words for such a shitty positions that everyone has found themselves in now.

After pulling apart and regaining your composure, Sherry gets back to work on your hair. She finishes quickly, which you're wholly grateful for as you were feeling a little embarrassed over your breakdown. You pushed those feelings away and concentrated on watching Sherry in the mirror as she grabs a comb and scissors.

“So, are you gonna tell me what's going on with you and James?” she raises an eyebrow at you through the mirror before diverting her attention back to your hair.

“I’m not too sure really. I mean, I like the guy, but we haven't spent enough time together. I see him about once or twice every couple of weeks, and I really enjoy myself when I’m with him, but it’s just too much time apart. I like him though, and he's said he likes me. This is the last run he's on now though, for the winter supplies, so once he's back we’re gonna spend some time together. I wanna see if there's anything real there or if I just like the way he looks, you know what I mean?”

“Mm, I get you. You can't really commit to any feelings right now can you? He is a good guy, you'd go well together. Plus, he’s very easy on the eyes.”

Sherry’s little eyebrow wiggle had you trying to fight back a laugh so as not to ruin the cuts she's making, before replying, “mhm, that he is.”

Waiting a beat, Sherry asked, “what about Mason? Don't think I didn't catch that little wink he sent you before.”

“Nah, that's all harmless. He's just nice to me. We get along well. Besides, I’m just trying to take this one man at a time.”

After your haircut, Sherry blow-dried your hair, smacking your hand away when you tried to put it into a bun once she was done. Glaring at her back, you follow her out of the bathroom to find the relaxed form of Negan lounging on one of the plush couches with a drink in hand.

“Ooh la la, you ladies doing something you're not supposed to do in that fucking bathroom?”

You scrunch your nose in disgust at the lecherous grin seemingly glued to his face.

“Behave, Negan. I was giving her a haircut.”

Narrowing his eyes slightly at Sherry, he asked “what was wrong with her hair before?”

Rolling her eyes as she made her way towards the kitchenette, Sherry replied, “nothing, I was just evening it out a little, she wouldn't let me do much else to it.”

You tried not to get offended at them talking about you as if you weren't even there.

Looking back at you, Negan commented, “yeah, it was looking a little ratty before.”

Oh, now you were fucking offended. Though, before you could get a word in, the man was talking again.

“You staying for dinner?”

That surprised you.

“Um… I don't know. What are you having?”

“Lasagna!” a voice shouted from the kitchenette, coming from the curly-haired woman, Kira.

This really was paradise. Lasagna?! When was the last time you had that? Definitely not since the shit hit the fan.

Rising from his seat, Negan threw an arm over your shoulder and led you to the dining table, pulling a chair out for you like the gentleman you knew he wasn't and taking a seat next to you.

The food was absolutely amazing, and though you did feel a little out of place at the start, surrounded by all of the wives, they made sure to include you in conversation and regale you with stories about themselves to make you feel a little less anxious.

You were enjoying a particularly amusing story Kira was recounting regarding Negan’s, surprising, arachnophobia - “That fucker was the size of my fist, of course I’d get away from the hairy bastard!” - when you felt and heard something that literally shook you to your core.

An almost deafening bang was heard, quickly followed by the entire building shaking. Dust rained down on you from the ceiling as cutlery dropped from the table. Shouting a quick order through the noise, Negan grabbed the back of your shirt and pulled you down under the table, making sure the wives all followed. You could hear the unmistakable crack of the windows fracturing from the pressure of whatever the fuck just blew up out there and you were suddenly entirely grateful to have Negan’s arm still over you, shielding you from whatever damage may arise.

After what felt like forever, and once Negan deemed it safe enough to do so, you all scrambled out from under the table and immediately made a beeline for the windows. Luckily, none of them had shattered and only a couple of them had cracks running through them.

Looking out over the Sanctuary, you could see the residents and Saviors running around and panicking, wondering what the hell had just happened and if they were under attack.

“Holy. Shit.”

Drawing your eyes up to Negan, you follow the direction of his eyesight to find the source of his ashen face.

Out in the distance, thick black smoke quickly rose through the air, visible even in the quickly darkening sky, the base of which glowed orange.

tagging: @neganisking @backseat-negan @jdms-network

[theswiftarmy]

#23 - Billie, Don’t Lose My Number

They reached the bank entrance after a quick jog.  The outside didn’t look anything like a typical bank.  It was just an ordinary steel outlined glass door leading into a corporate looking building right smack in the center of downtown LA.  No signs, or ATM machine, even.  Just a door, a locked door with a street address above.  The teenager waved in front of a camera mounted above them, the door buzzed, a light changed from red to green on a locking mechanism holding the door securely shut.  There was a clicking noise indicating the door was now open.

           “This way.”  Kymmie said to them.

           They walked down a plain hallway with marble flooring.  Steel and glass lined the sides as a soft glow emanated outwards from fancy lighting.  Exotic plants were spaced evenly every few feet.  The hallway was drab, dull, no bright colors whatsoever except for the plants and the soft glow of light flooding the room.  They walked until they reached an elevator.  She pushed the elevator button and the doors opened.  They shuffled in and took the elevator up several floors.  The doors opened again showing a tiny lobby with two more glass doors ahead that lead to a reception desk straight ahead on the other side of the glass doors.  A small sign on one door read:

A Private Bank – A subsidiary of The Banksy Bank – We don’t talk about money here, is that clear?

           Billie read the sign aloud then asked,  “What kind of bank doesn’t talk about money?”

           Finneas and the teen Arianator shrugged at her.

           The set of doors leading to the reception area were unlocked.  They pushed through the doors into an upscale office.  More exotic plants, and fancy lights.  “This way.”  Kymmie whispered as though they were in a library.

           She guided them past the empty reception desk and down a long hallway; rooms with stacks of binders were visible through floor to ceiling glass walls.  As they got closer they could see and hear others gathered in a very large and fancy office with a good view.

           “You made it!”  Justin yelled to Billie.

           “Did anyone follow you?”  Scott questioned.

           “No, I don’t think so.”  She replied.  “What is this place?”  She asked Justin and Scott.

           “It’s—“  Justin started to say.

           “Wait, what are we doing here again?”  Finneas inquired as he was offered a seat, cutting off Justin.

           “Did you tell him anything at all yet?”  Justin asked.

           Billie shrugged after giving Justin a high four.  “There wasn’t any time.  I tried to—”

           “Did you just give Justin Bieber a high four?”  Finneas questioned his sister.

           “Yeah.”

           “Why?”  He looked at her with a facial expression that also said, ‘why?’.

           “We’re trying to make high four a thing.”  She shot back.

           “Again… Why?”

           “Why not?”  She stated really serious, Billie serious.

           “You’re so weird.  Like, I love you sis, but you’re so weird.”

           “Well you’re weird too.  That’s why we make a good team.”

           “Fair.  And all of THIS is weird too so I guess that’s why we ended up here.”  Finneas spoke in a more calm voice.  “And whatever THIS is, it’s just too weirdly fascinating not to be into.  I mean, yes, we’re about to perform on live TV in front of millions of people, which is fun too, but I love this secret spy meeting vibe going on right now.  Plus, you’re my sis, so I trust you.”

           She smiled and shook her head at Finneas.

           “I see the two of you have met Kymmie.”  Oak said nodding at Kymmie.

           “Yeah.”  Billie replied still smiling.

           “She was the only one we could send that Taylor Swift wouldn’t suspect.”  Scott added from a fancy chair in the corner of the room that looked like it belonged in an upscale hotel, it looked as though it belonged over at the Ritz-Carlton.  In fact, Ms. Eilish was positive she’d seen the same chair in the corner of the hotel lobby.

Billie acknowledged what Scott had just said with a simple, “I see.”

Oak started to go around the room to introduce everyone.  “I’m Oak… Oak Felder.  This is Kanye…”

           “Duh.”  Billie replied.  She waved at Kanye.  He didn’t respond verbally, instead he put his hands together in prayer in her direction.  Billie mimicked the gesture back.  Kanye gave one single nod of approval.

           “I’m Scott Borchetta—” Scott started to say.

           “I know who you are.”  Billie said flatly.  She crossed her arms.  “I just want to make it known that I’m not on anyone’s side in all of this.  I’m only helping Justin because I don’t think it’s right what Taylor did to his cats—I saw the photos.  But, Mr. Borchetta, it doesn’t mean I agree with the way Taylor’s masters are being handled.  Okay?”

           “I understand.”  Scott wasn’t about to disagree with her.

           “Billie is her own follower.”  She said.

           “Did you just refer to yourself in the third person?”  Finneas questioned.

           “Yes.”

           “Okay then.”

           “So, who’s THIS guy?”  Billie said in a quizzical tone, pointing to the lawyer.

           “Carl.”  Scott introduced the lawyer. “He���s our attorney.”

           Billie moved her gaze towards a tall man sitting behind a wide desk with a large gold nameplate that read BANKSY. “And I guess that makes you Banksy?”

           An older gentleman with slicked back thinning hair stood up from behind a very large fancy and expensive wooden desk, he then walked over to her with his hand out, towering above her, his presence was impressively larger than life.  “Very nice to met you Ms. Eilish.  My name is indeed Banksy, but please, you may call me The Whale.”

           “The Whale?”  She said hesitantly.  “You want me to call you The Whale?”

           “Absolutely!”  He laughed loudly.  The laugh filled the room and echoed off the walls.  “I bet you’re wondering why.  Ah, the origin of the name is a story for another time.”  He said smiling.  “Everything has a story, wouldn’t you say?  Sometimes you need to know the story right away, and sometimes, well, sometimes… You don’t.”

           She reached out and shook his hand.  “It’s nice to meet you… The Whale.”  His grip was strong, but that wasn’t what sent tingles up her arm, his handshake wasn’t real, it was like shaking a prop hand, like someone else was moving his hand up and down—it was unnatural.  Forced.  Odd.  As if this moment in her life had been edited after reality happened and the arm was added in.  She experienced a flickering moment of Déjà rêvé. She was positive she had already dreamed this very moment.  Yes, in fact she had already met The Whale in a nightmare years ago. She pushed back an overwhelming urge to recoil in horror.

           He laughed again, with a very loud guttural growling laugh that filled the room to the brim this time.  His presence permeated the room as much as the laugh.  She felt disgust, an overwhelming amount of disgust.  Like she was suddenly surrounded with it and there wasn’t a way out.  He seemed like the kind of guy that could walk into any room, or situation and leave with everyone on his side, whether you wanted to be or not.  Suddenly the wave of horror subsided and she felt it all wash away.  She was left feeling empty for a moment, and then drained.  And then like it feels after a thunderstorm ends and the clouds disappear, everything is back to normal, in a way, but it’s all slightly different because the wind and rain stirred things up.

           Billie noticed shelves upon shelves of binders behind The Whale’s whale size desk, each one neatly labeled—there were stacks of binders, they were the same style binder on the same style shelves she passed in the long hallway walking to this very office.  The rows went from floor to ceiling.  Each binder had a last name, preceded by the word “THE” and followed by the word “TRUST”.  Each binder was labeled in all capital lettering.  An example might be something along the lines of THE PORTER TRUST.

           “What are those?”  Billie asked.

           He followed her eyes across the room over to the floor to ceiling the rows of binders.  “Those?  Why, those are trusts.  Of which, I, The Whale, am the sole trustee.  So, you see, you can trust me.”  He smiled a very charming and pleasing smile.

           “That’s a lot of trusts.”

           “It is, isn’t it?  There are more, elsewhere—a lot more.  Those are just the ones I’ve been working on recently.  They’re the documents that govern the trusts.  The legal language that dictates what the trust and anything associated with each trust can and cannot do.  So, let’s say, if I were to make an amendment using an exercise of testamentary powers of appointment on behalf of the settlor and beneficiaries of the trust, then those changes will have an effect on everything the trust governs—everything I govern, and it will be of my discretion to decide what that means.”

“Can he do that?”  Billie whispered inconspicuously to her brother.

“I don’t know?”  Finneas whispered back.

The Whale continued in his booming voice, “I know what you’re thinking, how does it all fit in that binder?  Well, the actual money along with any and all assets are guarded, or rather, invested and kept safe by others, elsewhere.”  He smiled again.  “Of course, we don’t talk about money here.  We talk about… well, let’s see Billie, we like to talk about… hopes and dreams, and what could be!”  He waved his hands through the air looking a bit like a magician, or the ringmaster in a circus.

           “Why do you have so many of them?”

           “I’ve been in this game a long time!  Long before you were even born!”  He said loudly and proudly, his voice boomed yet again, echoing off the walls.  “Billie.  Do you know what a trust is?”

           “Yeah, someone died and left someone else a lot of money.”

           “Yes and no.  Trusts are more like, well, one could compare them to a lot of things, but let’s compare them to master recordings.  There’s a settlor of a trust, the one who created the trust, and beneficiary of the trust those who receive from the trust.  It’s very similar to the artist who created a work of art, in the form of a master recording, and then there are those who benefit from the royalties of a master recording.  And like a trust, the master recording isn’t always held by the same person who created it, or by those who receive benefits from it, instead, there’s another entity needed to make sure everything goes as it should.”

           “Why not just give it to the person?  If it’s their money, or whatever, they should have it.  Why not just give something to someone that is rightfully theirs?”

          The Whale walked back to his desk and sat down in an oversized chair.  The chair also had his name embossed in gold lettering… BANKSY.

           “Ahhh Billie, but that’s just not how the industry works.  It’s a bit more complicated than you say, young lady, I’m sure you’ve started to realize that.”  He smiled and laughed then breathed in deep and exhaled slowly.  “You see, sometimes it’s not about giving something to the right hands, but not letting it fall into the wrong hands.  If I were to give you something that you couldn’t keep safe and someone else could simply snatch it away from you, someone with other, shall we say, motives in mind, wouldn’t that be bad?  Don’t you agree?  Would you say you agree with me?”

           “I wouldn’t let that happen.”  Billie said without flinching.

“Perhaps.  But, not everyone is capable of such things.  A trust isn’t about keeping something from someone, it’s about keeping whatever that something may be, safe from a bad decision that person may make, or perhaps, those around that person—a bad guy.”

           Billie rolled her eyes.  “Whatever.  I say let people make their own decisions, good, or bad.”

           He smiled then turned to a fancy mini fridge.  “Can I interest you in a bottled water?  It’s artesian well water.”

           “No, I’m okay.”

           He took the bottle of expensive imported water and placed it on the desk.  “Who owns this water, Billie?”

           “What?”  Billie responded, perplexed.  “Why are you asking me?”

           “Well, you asked a question of me just moments ago, about my work—” He motioned with his hand to the wall of binders behind him, “Isn’t it fair for me to ask a question in return?  Would you say that’s fair?  Upon entering my office, you asked for information that I gave you without qualms.  It seems only fair for me to ask a question of you.”

           “I don’t know, it’s, water…  No one, you can’t own water.”  

“That’s a fair answer, no one can own all water, just like no one can own all music.  I’ll be more specific, Billie, who owns the water inside this bottle.”

She looked at Finneas.  “THAT bottle?  I guess the owner of it would be whoever is holding it?  Or, maybe, whoever paid for it?”

           “Would you say that you, Billie Eilish, can’t answer the question?”

           Billie fell silent.  She sat for a moment then decided on an answer, “I don’t know who owns that bottle of water because I wasn’t there when it was purchased.  All I know is that you have possession of it right now, but I don’t know how you got it.  I don’t know the history of that water.  And since I don’t know where it came from, I can’t tell you who owns it, at least, the rightful owner of it.  All I know is that you appear to be the owner at this moment in time with the information I have.”

           The Whale smiled and sat back in his chair, he was pleased with the answer.  “I like your answer, Billie.  Water is just water, it’s everywhere in the world, or most places, rather.  It’s in various forms.  But this water, like all water, has a certain context.  Which is what you are trying to define.  And it is that defining context that gives this bottle value.  For if it had no value, why would anyone want to own it?  The value comes from the container, from giving it context in the story of the lives of all the people living in the world that consume water.  It’s what water can do in this world that gives it value.  Once you define the story and where in the story this water fits, the water can be consumed in a controlled manner.  And once you have consumption on a large scale in a very controlled manner, who owns that highly desirable consumable item becomes important to know.  One could also make the case that creative inspiration is also like water, just out there in the world too, until an artist plucks it from the air and, let’s say, bottles it.  The artist gave it context, control, meaning, they gave it a place in the lives of people in the world.  This makes it meaningful.  I could take all the words from every Harry Potter novel ever written and pull them out of the books, toss them into a huge pile, out of order, jumbled, and they would be meaningless, completely worthless words.  And just as I emptied the books into a pile of words, I can empty this bottle all over the floor, which changes everything, it’s still water, but it’s no longer in that neat little consumable form.

In no particular order words have no value.  They are meaningless without context, or without a story.  It isn’t until those words are extracted, put it in a bottle and labeled that they can suddenly have immense monetary value.  The words themselves have no real value alone, but string them together as JK Rowling did and bind the pages between a front and back cover and you have something of real value, something people want to own.  That’s where ownership becomes important.  That’s where legal wording can become very important, and the owner of a valuable creative work of art would then become very important to define.  Owning a creative work of art is like owning this water.  Works of art seep into the minds of anyone who consumes that work of art, just as water becomes part of every individual who takes a sip.  It’s a great responsibility to be the owner of something that becomes even just a very small part of so many people in the world.  You must agree with me then that a trustee of a trust—the owner of something that impacts so many individuals—should be assigned to someone of the right fit.  It should be someone fair.  You wouldn’t want that individual to be someone who would dump all the water out when they know you are thirsty.  If we were both given money to buy water but only one of us could control the money and make the purchase, wouldn’t you want the one controlling it to be an individual that could be fair?  If I own this bottle, I could do what I like with it, but let’s say it wasn’t my money with which I bought the bottle, let’s say it was some of your money, I would then have an obligation to share some of it with you as I did when I offered a bottle earlier.  I am the guardian and as such, I have a duty to fulfill as guardian.”

           “Well, that’s stupid, we both should just have our own money and buy our own water.”

“Ah, but if the rules of the game say that only one of us can hold the money.  That means one of us has to trust the other.  Would you say this bottle without water, is just a bottle?  Right?  An empty bottle could even be considered trash.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

He held the bottle up.  “If there’s no water, the supply chain required to extract and distribute this product, and then sell the water becomes useless without the water inside.  Right?”

“Sure…”

“And this water without the bottle and supply chain would not be sitting here on my desk, it would be halfway around the world still stuck in a well. The bottle alone isn’t very useful, and the water without the bottle can’t be distributed to the world.  So, wouldn’t you say they need each other?”

“I… Umm… I guess… Yeah.  I don’t know… You seem to really like water, Mr. Whale.”

“Well, you cannot have life without water“ He paused and smiled, “And in the largest body of water, lives the largest animal—the largest in the entire ocean… The Whale.  Every drop of water on the planet flows to the ocean eventually.  I like to think of whales as keepers of the oceans much like I look over these trusts, but enough about me.  Let me ask you this, you have music in your mind, and you want that music to go from your mind out into the world and into the minds of millions of your fans.  Yes?  Isn’t it a bit like how the water in the ocean evaporates and rains down in tiny little water droplets all around the world.  Each droplet could represent a single stream of a song on Spotify, or Apple Music.  Just one isn’t much, but when you have billions, you create a storm.  You want your creativity to rain down on the world, right?”

“I mean, yes.  Hold on, you said whales, plural.  You mean there’s others—”

He cut Billie off, “When you look at this artesian well water on my desk, there’s more than meets the eye.  What you don’t see are the tiny little droplets that make up this bottle, just like in every bottle pumped out of the well, but you also don’t see the pumping infrastructure and bottling plants and of course sales and distribution, and marketing.  But you say, well the finder of this water should own it all!   Isn’t that what you said?  That only one rightful owner could be declared?”

“No… Well, I mean, yeah, but no… It’s just…  You’re twisting my words.”

“Let’s say YOU found the water, just as you found a melody or a lyric.  But wouldn’t you still needed help to take the water out of the ground and create something that could be marketed and sold, just like you need the help of your brother among others to take that music from your mind and put into the hands of millions of fans, wouldn’t you agree that it’s fair to say it is not simply as easy as finding the water, young lady.  To bring that water to the world you need others.  But let’s say you found any water, anywhere, and you decided to make a claim on all water as your own, to bottle and sell as the only water anyone is allowed to consume.  What if you were to declare that you own all water everywhere because how is it possible to track every tiny droplet of water indefinitely.  Once the water leaves the bottle and each of those tiny droplets are disbursed out into the world, they may end up in other bottles, but since you made a claim on that one single bottle, then could you make a claim on any future bottles, even years from now where those tiny droplets may end up?  If new bottles years in the future contain a single droplet from a bottle you say you currently own, does that give you the right to say you own every single new bottle?  You own that entire new bottle if it contains just one drop from a bottle you previously owned?  Does ownership of one drop in an entire ocean give you the right to own the entire ocean including all that the ocean contains?”

           “I, umm… I don’t know, okay?”

“Billie… Who would own the water then?  If I own this bottle now, who owns the same water from this bottle in the future?”

“I don’t know!”  She shouted.  “I don’t know, okay… I try to avoid bottled water anyway.  I don’t agree with what it does to the environment.”  Billie started to feel like she was being coerced into her responses.  He was backing her into a corner and forcing her to respond in a specific way.

           “Billie, some things cannot be avoided.  You should know that.  You can refuse to drink water all you want, but eventually you’ll get thirsty and need to drink water, and if the only option you have comes out of this bottle, you then can either drink the water, or die of thirst.  You see, water, like art for example, or these trusts behind me, can have various consequences depending on how they are controlled, or who gets their hands on that resource.  The water was there all along, ready for anyone to find it, and it could have been any of us to find, bottle, and sell the water.  That melody in your music, those chords, those lyrics, or those sound samples, could have been found by anyone, but you found them and once you did, it put you in a very profitable position for you and your brother.  If you were profiting off the water sales, you may have a different sentiment towards the idea of water in a bottle.  Let’s say this wasn’t water, but a hit single, or a catalog of music, let’s say it were your music.”

           She crossed her arms and looked away.  “If it were my music, I wouldn’t want anyone but me making decisions about my music.  I’m not sure why you are telling me all of this.”

           “Anyone but you?”  The Whale stared at Finneas.

           She followed The Whale’s eyes to meet her brother’s, “And Finneas too, of course.  It’s our music.  So WE would decide.”  Billie suddenly realized what game he was playing.  The Whale was trying to create a rift between her and her brother.

           “I see.  Well, Billie, we need to know we can trust you.”  He said softly, grandfatherly, nice.  Overly nice.  “Wouldn’t you agree that it’s nice to be able to trust people?”  Again he looked from her, to Finneas then back to her.

           Billie wasn’t playing his game.  “Like I said, I’m not on a side.  I’m just helping Justin.  You can trust that I’ll do the right thing when the time comes.”

           “Very well.”  He said, without contest and sat back in his chair.

           “That’s it?  Very well?  All of that and you’re just like very well?”  She remarked.

           The Whale said nothing further.

           She narrowed her eyes and stared at him.

           “You know, I hate to interrupt.  But… Maybe it is time someone does fill me in?”  Finneas sat with his arms crossed as well to match his sister.  “Like she said, her music is my music too.  In your little bottled water story, Billie and I both found the water.  So, we decide who drinks it.  Also, I still don’t really get your water theme anyway.  You’re a whale and you like water?  I just feel like you’re trying to sell me bottled water, or trying to convince me to start buying it.  Now I’m just thirsty.  You know what, if you’re a whale then I’m a shark.”

           The Whale smiled and said nothing more.

           “Oooo, can I be a shark too!”  Billie shouted in an exuberant tone.

           “Yes.”

           “Wait, I’ll be left shark, because I’m sitting to the left of you.  And you can be right shark.  No, wait you’re left my right… wait… Yeah.  I’m left shark.”

           “You know left shark is the one that danced off beat—“

           “I know Finneas, that’s why I’m left shark.  It’s symbolic, I dance to the beat of my own drum.”

           “Well, that’s true.”  He shook his head yes.

           “Can I be baby shark?”  The Arianator asked.

           Justin jumped into the conversation, “Oh my gosh, wait, can we come up with a whole ocean themed dance routine?”  Bieber got up from his chair and started dancing like Katy Perry’s Left Shark from the 2015 super bowl.  Billie got up and started dancing too, as did the Arianator.  They danced like Left Shark to the music in their minds—The Baby Shark song.  They started to sing the song.  They began to circle around everyone, singing Baby Shark but also mixing the Baby Shark song with Justin’s song from 2009 ‘Baby’.  They all began dancing like Left Shark from Katy Perry’s super bowl performance.

          Scott cleared his throat, “I hate to interrupt this moment you’re all having, but… Finneas really should be filled in.”  He looked at his watch.  “And we only have so much time.”

Everyone sat back down and made pouty faces.  “Always so busy making time for everything else, but there’s never enough time to just dance and have fun it seems.”  Billie said in a somber voice.

“So… Do you know who Bill Porter is?” Scott asked Finneas.

           “Who doesn’t?  He was a sound engineer responsible for that early Nashville sound.  No relation to Billy Porter who appeared in Taylor Swift’s music video for her song ‘You Need To Calm Down’ and who will be at tonight’s AMA event.”  Finneas answered like a contestant on a game show with the right answer.

           “Yeah, like everyone knows that.”  Billie added.

           “You two seem to know a lot…”  Scott said.

           “We know a thing or two about the world.”  Billie proclaimed.

Scott paused and looked around the room then he motioned to Oak.

Oak got up and walked over to Billie.  He held the flash drive out for her to take.   She looked at her brother then back at Oak.  She took the drive and put it in her pocket.

Scott started to speak again, but the lawyer waved him quiet.

“Let me ask you this, if we skip the story, and get right to the point, are you okay with that?”  The lawyer asked.

“Sure.”  Finneas replied.

“Well, we have reason to believe that there’s mind altering audio frequencies in Taylor Swift’s music.”

Billie nodded as Justin had already told her some of this story.

“There’s mind altering frequencies in all music.”  Finneas finally said after pausing to think.  “That’s what music does.  It gets you high—in the emotional sense of the term.”

“True.  But these are highly addictive mind altering frequencies.”  The lawyer stated.

“It’s the devil’s sound.”  Kanye said finally breaking into the conversation.

“The devil’s sound, eh?”  Billie asked with wide eyes.  “You never mentioned that before.  That’s intriguing.”

“Let’s just focus on what we need right now to stop Taylor from playing the sound on national television.”  The Lawyer stated in an instructive voice glancing briefly over at Kanye.

The Whale opened a mini fridge and pulled out a second bottle that he placed beside the fancy bottled water.  The second bottle was familiar, red with white lettering, a bottle of Coca-Cola.  He looked over at the lawyer and Scott and back to the two bottles.

“That will work.”  Scott commented.  He got up and held the two bottles in front of him.  “If this bottle of water is music, as The Whale mentioned earlier, just music.  Then this bottle of Coca-Cola is what happens when you take regular music and add that Swiftie sound to it.  Coca-Cola has water in it, just the same as the bottled water, but in addition it also has a ton of sugar and caffeine and flavoring and it has the top secret recipe that Coke keeps in a top secret vault…”

“Right, makes sense.”  Finneas replied, now sitting on the edge of his seat.

“Well, I mean, it is called pop music, right?  It’s supposed to be addictive.  I feel like that bottle of Coke is actually all pop music.”  Billie got up and grabbed the bottle of Coke from Scott.  She shook it up for ten whole seconds before handing it back.   “I think if you really want to get it right, it’s more like opening that bottle right now, after a good shake.  Shake, shake, shake and twist the cap off.  Or, actually, you’ve gotta throw some Mentos in it too.  I’ve seen some of those Swifties and the way they act around Taylor.  It’s like she’s got their brains fizzing and bubbling on her music as if you dropped a few Mentos into that bottle of Coca-Cola after shaking it a thousand times.”

“That works too.”  Scott responded.

Finneas sat back in his seat.  He seemed to be fascinated more than anything.  Everyone was expecting him to find the news exciting and unsettling, it was as if he kind of suspected this type of thing had been happening all along, like he knew a lot more, a whole lot more.  “So, what’s on that flash drive?”  Finneas asked inquisitively.

Oak looked up from his MacBook Pro laptop, which he had removed from a carrying bag and was again working away on something.  “It’s a placebo track, for lack of a better name.  It needs to be copied into the sound system.  That’s where you and Billie come in.”

“And what happens if that sound doesn’t get copied into the sound system?”  Finneas asked quizingly.

“Mentos in Coke, Finneas.  Duh.”  Billie answered.  Billie made an exploding sound and threw her hands up.

Oak laughed.  “Well, that’s one way to put it.  But, as far as we can tell Taylor is... Well… She’s creating and hooking new and old fans by way of these mind-altering frequencies; she’s addicting the world to her music.  I suspect tonight won’t be the end of it, that she’ll plan to create new music so alluring that no one can escape its appeal.  Every last hater will become a super fan.”

“She’s turning everyone in the world to a Swiftie.”  Justin added.

Billie smiled slightly then glanced at her brother for a moment.

“Sounds like a dream come true for an artist.”  Finneas said also smirking.

“I guess that’s not really a problem, as long as you’re Taylor Swift.”  Billie added to her brother’s comment cooley.  “Or, the artist to have found the secret sound.”

“And what exactly do you mean by that?”  Scott asked.

“Like The Whale said, the water was always there, ready to be bottled.  Any of us could have been the one who found it, bottled it, and sold it.  She just happened to have gotten there first.  If you were Taylor Swift, you would have a different sentiment towards all of this.”

Billie and The Whale took a long look at one another.

Finneas smiled, “That’s kind of like what he said to you.”

“You’re a smart kid, Billie.”  The Whale said with a smile too.

“I’m not a kid.”  She agued.

“How old are you as of today, November 24th 2019?”  The lawyer asked.

“Seventeen.”

“To legally sign a contract without a guardian, you must be eighteen years of age.  You’re a minor in the eyes of the law, and that makes you a kid.”

“I turn eighteen next month, so humor me.”  Billie played with a ring on her finger.  “And let me remind you, that without me, you don’t have much of a plan left.”

The men in the room didn’t say a word further.  It was Seventeen-year-old Billie Eilish, a young woman in her eyes, against a room full of men who saw her as a sweet and innocent girl—And that was their weakness.  That’s always been the weakness in the male ego.  That’s going to be the weakness in five years, or ten years, or in one hundred years.  Women aren’t weak, they aren’t pretty little innocent damsels in distress and they’re getting tired of that stereotype.

Kymmie the teen Arianator social media influencer, the only other young woman in the room, sat with her mouth agape eyes transfixed on Billie Eilish.  “You’re so freakin’ awesome!”

“Well thank you.”  Billie replied.  “You’re pretty awesome yourself.”  She said in a cool laid back southern California style attitude.

“If I weren’t already an Arianator, I’d totally be on your team, Billie.”

“Cool.  I didn’t even know I had a team, to be honest.  I guess I have a team.”

“I’m on your team.”  Finneas smiled.

“Cool.  I have a team then.  Go team!”  Billie sat for a minute.  “I don’t know.  It still feels weird to say I have a team.”

“Well, sis, like Taylor Swift said, there is no I in team, but there is a ME.”  Finneas mused.

“Actually, Fin, there really isn’t a ‘me’ either—unless it’s an anagram?  I mean, she never really explains that in the song.”

“True, it’s kind of confusing.”

“Technically we all have teams,” Justin stated, “We’re all in the same business of hooking fans and getting massive followings, but how far do you go?  What’s fair game?  We all want our own piece of the global fanbase, but there should be enough room for any artist to break into the game?  I mean, right?  The lawyer and The Whale are pretty convinced that Taylor’s endgame is for everyone to be so addicted to her music and only her music that they can barely listen to anything else.  If that’s the case, we have no choice but you fight back against that.  Or, at least I think we have to fight?  All I know is, if there’s one artist to rule them all, what happens then?  What happens if Taylor becomes the queen of pop?  And we’re all just guests in her royal court.  Before long everyone will be calling her by ‘her grace’, or ‘her majesty’.”

“As long as I can be a duchess of some sort.”  Everyone looked at Billie very seriously.

“Billie, seriously?”  Justin replied.

“It was a joke!  I suppose this could make sense as to why she decided to be all hot to trot with that British boyfriend of hers.  Maybe she wants to become the next queen of America… Miss Americana.  Her grace.  Ooooooo, what if it’s like some big master plan to get America under British rule again!  First Brexit and then Taylor will marry Joe and then she runs for president or something one day and some how becomes the queen of America.  And then we can all speak in British accents and we start calling chips ‘crisps’ instead.  Oooooo… This is just getting good.  It’s like watching a good TV show right at the start and there’s no one to post spoilers online and ruin it for you.  Oh wait, no, I mean, watching something good on the telly.  That’s what they call it in England, the telly.”

Everyone looked at Billie without saying anything.

“What?  I’m just saying.  Maybe England had a plan all along to get us back and it was one of those wait a few hundred years and lure us all back with love.”

No one said a word.

“Oh come on!  You guys are no fun you know that?”

Everyone continued to stare with all eyes on Billie.

“Finnnneeeee.  I’m just saying, it could get really interesting.”  She paused for a moment with all eyes on her, “You know, I’d just like to point out that when it comes to sports, everyone’s all about one team winning the entire thing as champions of it all.  So, in an all out music war, it just seems like a double standard that everyone wants the Super Bowl to have a winner, but the minute you suspect Taylor Swift is trying to become the queen of all pop music and possibly rule the world, suddenly there’s a fight to stop her at all costs.”

“Well, you are certainly entitled to your own opinion Ms. Eilish.”  The Lawyer said, “Can we continue the task at hand?  Or are you declaring your allegiance to Taylor Swift?”

Finneas nudged his sister and shook his head no.

Billie clinched her fists and her teeth then replied begrudgingly.  “You may continue, sir.”

The lawyer motioned over to Oak and Pop.

Pop reached into a small bag and pulled out a container.  He opened the container.  Inside was a set of custom AirPods.

“Take these.  Just in case.”  He held the AirPods out.

“I don’t need those.”  Billie replied.

“If you fail.” He insisted.

“I won’t fail.”  She asserted.

“Just take them.”  Pop pleaded.

“No.”  She pushed some of her hair out of her face and looked away.

“Billie, Finneas, are you sure you want to do this?  This could really mess with your head.”  Oak asked.

“Please.  Mess with my head?”  Billie laughed.  She looked at Finneas.  “Have you heard my music—our music?  I think I’ll be alright—I think we’ll be alright.”

“If she’s not taking them, I’m not.”  Finneas crossed his arms again.

“But if you don’t wear them, you’ll be exposed to the sound.” Scott maintained.

Finneas smiled with his arms still crossed. “How do you know this sound you speak of isn’t in our music?  Or maybe we’ve already been exposed to it.  Maybe we’re Swifties already.”

“I know it’s not in your music.”  Bieber objected.  “Because it’s not in my music.”

“How do you know?”  Finneas lobbed back.

“Because, it’s not, right Oak?  And you’re not Swifties because you’re not Swifted.  I can see it in your eyes.  Swifties are Swiftie-Eyed.  I’ve seen it.  When I was earwormed at The Hollywood Bowl…” He trailed off then looked down at his feet.  “I’ve just seen it.”  He took his headphones off for a few seconds but placed them back on his head after Selena Gomez’s voice flooded his brain immediately after removing the special earworm canceling headphones.  Removing the headphones was to Justin what pinching yourself is to someone to make sure you weren’t dreaming.  Finneas looked over at Justin, observing his odd behavior, he didn’t ask any questions.  He just watched curiously.

“Well, actually, since you mentioned other music…”  Oak flipped his laptop around to show a linked 3D interconnected spider web looking model he’d been working on.  The screen on the laptop displayed a 3D visual of popular songs to the duplication of audio footprints in popular music.

“Whoa.  Dude.  What is that?”  Billie asked.

“It’s sound repetition in modern music.  It’s the number of times in which similar sounds within songs are linked to other songs.”  Oak explained.

“Wait, you mean like six degrees of Kevin Bacon, but for sound sampling in modern music.”  Billie replied.

“Exactly, just as words from individual lyrics, or notes, or chords are reused in multiple songs, sound samples are also reused.  All music really is a retelling of previous music, but in a new way.  So you’d expect new music to draw on old music, but these are actual sound samples that contain the exact footprint frequencies from current and previous music.  Like The Amen Break, or Taylor’s Bill Porter Easter egg master track ‘Swiftie mind control tape noise’ contained in Taylor Swift’s Big Machine master tracks.”

“A tape noise… I’ve heard stories of a holy grail of analog tape noise that produces euphoric effects due to just the right resonant frequencies hitting your eardrum.  I didn’t think anyone had actually managed to find such a thing!  So that’s what this is all about.” Finneas confirmed.

Oak nodded, “Think of it like this, suppose today, right now, at this very moment, a brand new chord were discovered.  A chord never before played, never before heard by any human ear on the planet, and that chord if played just right, would cause euphoric feelings for anyone who heard it.  The most pleasing of sounds, so much so, that no one could ever stop wanting to hear that chord.  This chord—never known to humankind ever before—suddenly were found.  And supposed someone figured out what that chord was, and started putting it in their music.  And their music became the most irresistible music around, so much so that all their tracks went to all the top spots…”

“Coke with Mentos, shaken, not stirred.”  Finneas said in a James Bond voice.  “Right?”

“I think he gets it.”  Scott said twisting the cap of the Coke bottle slightly, letting the fizz bubble off before continuing the twist, and then taking a drink.

“The sound keeps you captivated as long as you keep listening to it.  I’ve been doing some work here and I think it’s possible to manipulate the sound in such a way that this sound, if modified just right, would not only quench your thirst, it makes you slightly more thirsty as it quenches, so anyone listening to it would never get enough.”

“Wait, so what are you saying?”  Finneas leaned in closer.

Oak hesitated for a moment.  “It may be possible to make a song that you never get sick of, ever… Because each time you hear it, you actually want to hear it again even more than the previous time until it’s all you want to hear, until it takes over your mind and that melody is all you think about, all the time...”

“That’s devious.”  Billie said.

“That would be one heck of a yummy song.”  Justin added.

“Interesting.”  Finneas mused.  “A song you could never get sick of… no matter how many times you heard it. That’s an interesting concept.  That would be the ultimate earworm.”

“Almost.  Unlike an earworm, which you want to get out of your head, this would be a song that you want on repeat in your head, forever.  Whoever figures that out would have fame that never fades.  Their songs would perpetually be at number one on all the charts, forever.  I’m not just talking about the longest running number one song of all time; I’m talking about the last number one song, of all time.  An arms race to write the perfect forever number one song.”  Oak stated matter-of-fact-ly.

“Wow.”  Finneas stared at Oak.  “Do you think anyone is working on such a song?”

Scott looked at the lawyer, who then looked at The Whale.  The lawyer looked back at Scott and shook his head no.  Scott nodded.  Now wasn’t the time to tell the others.  Soon it would be, but not now.

Oak continued, “Well, Taylor’s been using this sound to captivate her fans, to some degree.  To keep their ears addicted to her music, and to her every word, and every move, completely obsessed with her.  But it does seem she has to keep making new music with the sound in its current form, as there does appear to be a half-life of the potency of each song.  It seems every song has a certain level of addictiveness to it, and every song also has a half-life to which that song becomes less and less addictive, one would eventually build up a tolerance, and ‘get sick of the song’.  This is all music, yes, but Taylor’s music just has a longer half-life due to the addictiveness being amplified because it has the special sound added in.  That is to say, becoming a Swiftie would eventually wear off after you played her music enough on repeat, or you stopped listening to it entirely.  You’d no longer feel the addictive properties of it.  Which is why she needed the sound to record new music.  It’s always about releasing new songs with this sound embedded in the master track.  A new song with that old sound keeps her fans following her around.  The sound is the secret chord so to speak of…”

“Hmmm, this is fascinating… I’m interested in that secret chord theory…”  Finneas spoke, as though he were deep in thought.  “It reminds me of that Leonard Cohen song.”

“Yeah!  The secret chord!” Billie gasped, almost reading her brother’s mind.  “I heard there was a secret chord, that David played, and it pleased the lord.  But you don’t really care for music do you?”  She looked at The Whale as she said the last part.  She recited the words at first like poetry, almost starting to sing, but talking in rhyme.  Then she broke into song, “It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift, the baffled king composing hallelujah.”

“Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah…”  Kanye joined in the song and Billie sang with him.  Justin joined in on the second verse, and as they reached the end of the song everyone had joined in.  Everyone, that is, except The Whale, he doesn’t really care for music, does he?

They sat quiet, tingles down their spines, unsure of what had just happened.  But sure something beautiful just did.

“I feel like we’re all connected right now.” Billie smiled.

“This feels like that same feeling we had back in Oak’s studio.”  Justin spoke, relaxed slumped back slightly in his chair.

“It is.”  Oak affirmed.  “This is the same feeling.  It’s all the same feeling, but it’s how you get to that feeling, it’s the way music is used.  What happened just now is the same feeling we felt back in the studio from the old analog tape sound.  We are all connected, and that’s the upside as well as the downside.  Just like in music, there’s harmony, but there’s also discord.  When you create music the way it’s meant to be, you get this connected and amazing feeling.”  Oak said smiling.  “You get what we just had.  You share that joy of harmony.  The music flowed on its own, without restraint.”

“Harmony.”  Billie sang out in an impromptu melody.

“But when you bottle it and capture it, and add sugar and caffeine, and flavoring, and Mentos.”

“The magic is lost.  Right?”  Justin added.

“No, it’s not lost, actually, it seems like quite the opposite from what I’ve been able to figure out, there’s still magic and it works just the same, but, it becomes an explosive form of it.  And, that’s the problem, because when you try to control it, to get what you want…”

“Or to gain control others.”  Scott thought out loud.

           Oak clicked a button on his laptop and the web of connections began to morph and tangle into a mess.  “Discord.”  He said.

           “And that’s the sound?”  Finneas asked, now interested more than ever.

           “It’s what it could become if we don’t figure out exactly how it all works.  You get a few fans under the spell and they just become obsessed with an artist, but you get artists under their own spell and they start making music to no end at the whim of the spell itself, and then whatever entity is behind all of this starts to get control of everything, fans, artists, every piece of creative work could become part of this collective connected being.  And you lose that sixties hippie vibe of we are one... It becomes something else, a global The Real World show where billions of people are picked to live in this world together, let’s see what happens when they stop being polite and start being real.  I don’t think music was ever meant to be something that should forced into pretty packaging and controlled, to be copyrighted, to be owned forever, to be a goldmine to line the pockets of those in control of the sound.  I don’t think it was supposed to be exploited in the way it’s being exploited for mania fandom—from Elvis to the Beatles and the beginnings of rock and roll, to modern day pop music wars between Scooter Braun and Taylor Swift.  And I don’t think Taylor is the one controlling it, to be honest, I think it’s controlling her.  And it might be controlling all of us.  I think we’ve gotten to a point where it’s become it’s own.  All of media is possibly conscious and the creators have no idea what they are actually part of collectively.  But, one thing I know, the first to figure out the secret chord sound, to create that ultimate number one forever song, will have a great responsibility to keep that power from falling into the wrong hands.  My worry is that we’ve only scratched the tip of the iceberg here, this may be greater than we even know, if you look at some of these links, there’s some that don’t make a lot of sense.”

           “Oh?”  Finneas said.

           Oak zoomed in to show the song bad guy.

           “Take Billie’s song bad guy for example, there’s a link between bad guy and some Australian scenes in films.  It’s the weirdest thing.  Like there’s a sound that matches this scene where they are at a crosswalk.  I think film may be part of this too…  Not just music, at this point, I think it’s possible Hollywood may be connected to this.”

           “Huh.  Yeah, that’s weird.”  Finneas shrugged.  He looked away, then to Billie.

           Oak mused.  “I think we have an unknown pandemic of varying levels of infectious sound samples across all music.  Some are more addictive than others.  Some have a short half-life for addictiveness, others are longer before you get sick of the song playing on repeat.  Some cause various effects.  The question on my mind is do we really know where all the sounds that are in all recordings of all time actually came from?  All songs, all movies, anything recorded, that anyone in the world can possibly be exposed to…”

           Billie nudged Finneas.   “You should tell him.”

Finneas hesitated for a moment before spilling the beans, “Oak, I have to admit something, the sound from our song bad guy that you think are high hats, it’s really a sound emitted when you push the button at most crosswalks in the cities across Australia.  We recorded it and put it in the song, so that has to be why it’s linking to those films shot in Australian most likely.  But some of those other links I can’t explain.  I have no idea why it’s creating some of those other links.”

           Oak messed with the music map a little more, “Well that’s interesting, okay.  So that explains the link from bad guy to these movie scenes, that crosswalk sound must be in the movie scenes, even if it’s a very low level that may even be nearly inaudible.  A boom microphone must have picked it up during filming and the editors didn’t notice the sound since it was at such a low level.  But, do we know where that crosswalk sound originated from?”

Finneas shook his head.

“Okay, so, we don’t know where the crosswalk sound originated from, perhaps there’s more to that sound than we know.  I have to wonder, who made that crosswalk sound?  It’s possible the sound was actually engineered to bring a sense of calm to anyone crossing the street.  Crossing a busy city street could be a stressful experience.  You say it’s in most cities across Australia.  I have to wonder if the sound was the product of countless scientific tests and was specifically engineered to produce psychological effects in order to calm city dwelling street crossers in addition to assisting those that aren’t able to see.  Perhaps it has more than one use? ”  Oak flipped the laptop back around and worked a little more.

“Damn.”  Billie sat in awe at what Oak was saying.  “So, for all we know, the Australian city planning department could have put mind altering tones in that crosswalk sound in order to keep their cities more peaceful—”

“And we put it in our music and gave it to the world.”  Finneas said to Billie as they looked at each other.

“That’s awesome.”  They said in unison.

“I would argue the opposite.  You’re possibly accidently subliminally altering thoughts, anyone who listens to your music could be affected, and you have no idea what it may be doing to their emotions.”

“Yeah but how were we supposed to know that… It sounded cool!  Honest, we’re not trying to screw with anyone’s head on purpose, plus, it’s not like we don’t hear our own songs when we’re out and about in public spaces, so, we’re drinking our own Kool-Aid in a way… It’s just music!  Right?  I mean, right?  It’s just music, it’s just fun… Right?”

“I’m starting to think it’s not.  I’m starting to think music isn’t just music anymore.  I’m starting to think it’s about trying to figure out the Trojan horse of music.  It’s a war to find the ultimate weapon—the ultimate earworm as you called it—the perfect song that no one could ever get sick of, and whoever figures it out first....”  He stopped for a moment and looked around the room.  “Well, I think we can all imagine how that would play out.”

Finneas looked from Oak to The Whale—the oversized fancy nameplate sitting on the desk with embossed gold lettering simply had BANKSY written in all capital letters.  Why all capital letters?  Finneas thought.  He was suddenly unable to shake the feeling that all those trusts weren’t random wealthy people, he recognized some of the last names: Famous actors and actresses, famous musicians, movie directors, producers, entertainment business titans of the past, sports legends.  He’d never heard of this guy before, either as Banksy or as The Whale, or this bank, and yet some of the names on the wall were some seriously iconic people in the entertainment business, role models that everyday individuals had idolized, still idolize.  Finneas was becoming super suspicious, there was more to all of this than meets the eye.  The Whale didn’t talk about money, why would he not want to talk about money; he’s a money guy!  But if that were the case, what else would he not want to talk about.  What was he hiding?  He decided to ask a money question to see how The Whale would answer,  “What’s your management fee for trustee if you don’t mind me asking?”  He inquired of Banksy also known as The Whale.

           “I don’t disclose that.”  He uttered, his voice slipping from its overly nice grandfatherly tone to one with a subtlety aggressive hint, he stopped speaking, musing for a second, Finneas had struck a chord with The Whale, “My boy, I will tell you the secret to success in life.”

           “What’s that?”  Finneas asked.

“Never do ANYTHING, for ANYONE, for free.”  The Whale stared at Finneas—his eyes meant business.  The way he said those words felt odd.  Uncomfortable.  Almost like a threat.

Finneas shifted in his seat nervously for the first time, shedding his confidently calm I know more than you think I do vibe, “I see…  Well, I’ll keep that in mind.”  He responded.

“Each and every one of these trusts represents a highly successful individual.  They represent someone who made their way in the world, in life, they reached the top, they were THE best, and in their mortal absence, it is my duty to make sure their name is honored, and maintained to the highest of esteem.  Do you understand that?  There are some things I will disclose, and others I will not.  I do a lot of work on behalf of the post mortem presence of these individuals, and as such, there is a fair monetary compensation in return.  But, the details of these trusts will never be a conversation that you, Mr. Finneas O’Connel, and I are ever going to have.  Is that clear?”

Finneas nodded.

“Is that Dick Clark’s trust?”  Billie said pointing to the large binder titled ‘THE CLARK TRUST’.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t say anything more.”  The Whale said sternly.

“Aren’t the American Music Awards a Dick Clark Production?”  Billie whispered to her brother.

He nodded back.

Finneas and Billie caught eyes for a moment and felt as though they had wandered into a lion’s den.  A wave of unease washed over them.  The question was, were they armed hunters, or some sort of small prey, or somewhere in between.  Who else in this room was prey, and who was the lion?  Maybe they had it wrong entirely, after all, where did Pinocchio and Geppetto end up?  Monstro swallowed them whole.  The entertainment business past wasn’t in the past.  It was part of the present, just because those individuals were no longer walking the earth, didn’t mean very big forces, and large sums of money weren’t influencing the entertainment industry in a very, big way.  A whale sized way.

Billie scanned the shelves looking for that recognizably famed name practically synonymous with Geppetto and Pinocchio and their little cricket friend but before she could find if it were there she noticed something else, a small cluster of items on the binder shelves that didn’t fit with what must have been hundreds of other binders, at the very bottom almost hidden by the desk, a few items sat isolated from the rest.  The first was a binder that had THE FREED TRUST typed neatly, but the words “THE” and “TRUST” have been crossed out.  She decided that must have something to do with Alan Freed who famously coined the term Rock and Roll, but from what she remembered reading he didn’t have much money when he passed away, so what would he have that would have been placed in a trust that The Whale would want control of and why cross out THE and TRUST?  Another had a name that she couldn’t place.  She looked at the name neatly typed on the binder, but it looked like old typewriter font.  The binder was a slightly different color from all the rest, it looked vintage, like it was created many years ago and had been sitting in the sun day after day, year after year.  It was the only one on the bookshelf wall of trusts that didn’t start with the word “THE” and end with the word “TRUST”.  It simply said “FOLEY”.

“Who’s Foley?”  Billie asked her brother.

“I don’t know…“

She squinted slightly and could see small lettering in lowercase beside it.  “Joe Hyde”.  ‘Who’s Joe Hyde?’ she thought.  Then she inspected one other out of place item in the binder bookshelf; it was sitting between the FOLEY and FREED binders.  It almost looked like a diary, or a journal of some sort, something someone might use to write down creative ideas.  It did not fit at all.  If she had to place where it belonged, it looked like something Taylor Swift would use to write down song lyric ideas.  But, it looked aged, or maybe it was just made to look like that, she was sure it wasn’t Taylor’s lyric journal; it had to have been someone else’s—some other prolific songwriter, their personal songwriting lyric journal, someone equally as influential as the other two names had been.  It wasn’t a trust, so it could very well be someone still alive.  Someone The Whale either wanted, or perhaps, already had control over… But who would that be?

Scott broke Billie’s train of thought when he began to talk to the room about general planning information related to the evening.

She was already told the details by Justin, she tuned him out and whispered to Finneas, “Something just feels off about this whale guy, about all of this, I don’t know what it is, Fin, I just feel like there’s more in those binders than he’s revealing.  There has to be more to this than they are telling us.  There’s more to that Australian crosswalk sound we put in our song.  There’s more to music than just… music. I’m starting to feel like there’s a secret that no one is telling.  And I don’t know, maybe it even has to do with all of Hollywood.”

Finneas nodded slowly.  He was thinking the same thing, they had just walked into something bigger than they could possibly ever know, but the question was, what exactly was it that they even just walked into?  Was there something more to all of showbiz?  Some big tightly held secret the whole entire industry kept that went back to the origins of Rock and Roll itself, or even included movies?  How much did they really know?  The only Foley he could think of was Jack Foley, the man who created the technique for adding sounds to movies, a process still used today in basically every movie and TV show produced, anyone who works with sound effects for visual media are called Foley Artists.  But why would there be a binder on the trust wall, that wasn’t a trust, for that?  And why wasn’t in the same format as all the others?  This was just weird.  As Billie said, something felt off about all of this.  There are industry secrets, big industry secrets, and everything they saw before their eyes, the wall of trusts, was just that tiny thread of a sweater, that little tiny first piece coming unraveled.  Whatever this was, it was big, really big.

           The lawyer suddenly disrupted the room, almost as though he were on cue and had been told to let things play out for a while before giving direction to the group.  “Why don’t we move things along?  Justin, I believe you had something to give Billie as well, correct?”  Carl said in a stoic voice cutting Scott off.  He sounded like a judge in a courtroom following courtroom procedure.

“Umm, yeah.  Billie, can I see your phone real quick?” Justin asked.

“Sure.”  She pulled out her phone and tossed it at him.

“Here. Billie, I’m going to give you my number.  It’s a secret number that Taylor can’t trace.”  He typed the secret number into the phone and stored it then tossed the phone back to her.

“Okay, there.  Now, Billie, don’t lose my number.”

“Don’t worry, Justin, I won’t.”

“I mean it!  Don’t lose my number Billie.  Just call me if something goes wrong.  It’s only going to get worse if you wait too long.  Because if you’re not anywhere, and I can’t find you…”

“Justin, I promise I won’t lose it.  You’ll be able to find me.  You’ll always be able to find me.”

“Just, don’t lose my number, Billie, don’t lose my number.”

Billie looked Justin in the eyes, “Justin, I won’t.  But promise me this, if everything goes wrong, don’t give up, if you can’t find me, don’t give up, just keep running.  Okay?”

“I will.  I promise.”  The Biebs replied.

She scooted her rolling wheeled office chair over to him, “Sorry, everyone, I just have to ask Justin something privately real quick about this secret number.”  She said to the room, and then whispered really low into Justin’s ear in Belieberspeak, “I know you and Scooter have history and that you and him are bros, or however that goes, but I just get the feeling he’s in for more than he knows. I don’t have a good vibe about this whale guy… and that lawyer fellow, too.  I think there’s more to this than any of us know.  Look at the names of the trusts.  It’s nearly every number one icon in the entertainment business and sports too.”

Justin glanced quickly over at a few of the names then back to Billie.

She continued whispering.  “I don’t want my name on that wall one day, in that bookshelf, I don’t want your name on that wall of binders one day.”  She paused, “And I don’t think Taylor’s name should ever be there either.”

Justin whispered back, “Our names won’t end up there.  That much I know.  I don’t know where our names will end up in the future, but it won’t be on that whale wall.”  He looked at the wall of binders on the bookshelves, the neatly typed names in capitalized letters.  “I get what you mean, though, there’s something odd about all of this.  There’s something going on and I feel like it’s big time yo, way bigger than we know.”

She and Justin shared a worried look.  Maybe this is the price you pay when you sign up for something of which you truly know very little about and can barely understand the words on the page that will decide the rest of your life before you are old enough to really understand what you’re signing up for.  And then when the story is told later on, there are different versions of that story to tell of the same event, because, to quote Emma Watson, “History is genuinely told from the perspective of who it’s told by”.

Billie pushed her office chair back over to her brother.

“Are you two finished?”  The lawyer asked.

“Yes.”  Billie confirmed.

The lawyer pulled out some papers and went over the secret plan to sneak Kanye West into the American Music Awards, interrupt Taylor with the interrupting cow knock-knock joke and swap out the sound.

           The Lawyer looked at his watch and made another decree, again, almost on as if on cue.  “Okay, it’s red carpet time.  Better get going, you know what happens if you’re late to the red carpet.”

           “No.  I don’t know what happens.”  Billie responded back.

           “Be late, Ms. Eilish, and you’ll find out, won’t you?  But, you don’t want to find out, do you, Billie?”  The Whale said, his face void of any emotion, if anything, it was slightly ominous looking.

           She shook her head no, unable to think of anything else to respond with.  That was exactly what Jeffery said to Post Malone.  It was word for word exact!  How could that possibly be a coincidence?  Her stomach turned slightly and she looked over to Justin then to her brother.  The entertainment industry had secrets that much she was now sure of… The red carpet was hiding something from her, and she was determined to find out what secrets it hid, that much she was also sure.  With that, the meeting finished.

On the way out of the office Scott stopped Billie, “Taylor didn’t get there first.”

           “What?”  She responded, taken aback.

           “You said Taylor just happened to have gotten there first.  I was there with her when she first found that sound.  We both were there at the same time.”

           “Okay, but doesn’t Scooter kind of own it now anyway?”

“Yes.  Well, he bought it with borrowed money, so it’s mostly owned by…” Scott pointed to The Whale.

Billie looked over at The Whale one last time.  He now had a big plastic grin on his face as he shook hands with Mr. Carl Lyle, the lawyer.  She leaned in closer to Scott, “Mr. Borchetta I have to ask you, are you sure you know who the real bad guy is here?  Is it really Taylor Swift, do you know that for sure?  Or could it actually be Scooter?  Maybe it’s someone else.  I mean, are you sure it isn’t you?”  She looked him in the eyes very serious, Billie serious,  “How do you know it’s not The Whale?”  She narrowed her eyes.  “How do we know who we can REALLY trust?  How do any of us know WE aren’t the bad guys? IF everyone is telling the story from his or her own perspective that means we all have a different version of history, so how can we genuinely be sure which history is the right one?  Maybe it’s me, even.  What if it’s me, and I just don’t know it yet.  Maybe when I tell the story, one day, you will be the bad guy or perhaps when you one day tell the story about me, I may in fact become the bad guy….” She paused looking at him, “Or, Scott, maybe, just maybe, I am the bad guy.”  She smiled then turned and walked away before Scott could answer.

She hurried down the hall and caught up with her brother.  He was walking along side Kanye West, Justin Bieber, and Kymmie the teen Arianator.  She then turned to look back at Scott for a brief moment.  He stood, mouth agape, still speechless.  After a few seconds Oak and Pop joined Scott on either side stealing his attention away from Billie.  The three of them began walking in the same direction as the others heading towards the elevator.  The lawyer lingered to have one final private chat with The Whale.  He waved everyone else to go ahead saying that he would catch up.  Kymmie the teen Arinator led the way down the long hallway ready for the next part of this already very adventurous day.  The Whale closed the door to his office after he and the lawyer finished their private chat.  He locked himself inside telling the lawyer to tell the rest of them that he had some important business calls to make and would be staying behind.  He also told the lawyer to relay the following information: He wished each one of them luck in their decisions.

Everyone shuffled into the elevator and watched as Kymmie pushed the button for the ground floor.

It was almost showtime and they had an appointment with the red carpet that they could not be late to.  And as they say in the biz, those late to the red carpet have to find their own way back.

Back from where you ask?  Be late and you’ll find out, won’t you?  But if you’ve ever arrived late to a red carpet event, you already know, don’t you?

@taylorswift

[bevioletskies]

20 questions [6/20]

characters: peter/gamora, guardians-centric

fandom: avengers academy/marvel cinematic universe

summary: wasp has a new competition in store for the students of avengers academy, and there’s money involved. so obviously, peter and gamora have to pretend to be a couple in order to win. wait, what?

chapter preview: the nominee list comes out, mantis has some romantic ideas in mind, and peter and gamora continue to learn about each other.

word count: 3572 | total word count: 118k

a/n: i’ve never been to new york, so i hope there aren’t any glaring inaccuracies over the next couple chapters that they’re there!

ao3 | previously | next | masterpost

Thankfully, the rest of the week had gone by quickly - no life-threatening events or earth-shattering catastrophes, just a build-up of school commitments that had left all the students physically and emotionally exhausted. Even Elektra seemed tired after her practical weaponry exam at the Blasting Range, and likewise with the usually composed T’challa, who nearly had an incident during his explosives lab with Professor Pym.

Peter barely had a moment alone with Gamora, but eventually did find the time to tell her of Mantis’s plan. She agreed to the trip, though she had other concerns on her mind - she had apparently spent Wednesday evening with Adam at Club Galaxy, where he had helped her fix her equipment, which had made Natasha suspicious.

“Adam laughed it off, told her that you and I were happily together,” Gamora had said. “It’s ridiculous - am I not allowed to spend time with other people?”

Peter had sighed in response. “She’s a spy, she’s suspicious of everybody. If anything, she might eventually sniff us out.”

On Friday afternoon, the teachers took pity on the students and let them out early, allowing Janet to make her announcement in the quad. “Hello, Avengers Academy,” she hollered, her tone and words not unlike Gamora’s opening lines when she played at Club Galaxy. “Just letting you all know that I have posted the nominees for the yearbook superlatives contest on my blog and the school website! There's also a copy here at the bulletin board and a few posted up around campus. Remember that voting starts in two weeks, you have one month to submit your vote, and then one month after that, the yearbook will be published!”

Everyone began pulling out their phones and tablets, scrolling and letting out exclamations of joy, surprise, and occasionally, disgust. Gamora stared down at “Cutest Couple - Peter Quill/Gamora”, the words still looking rather foreign to her.

“Babe, we should go pack,” Peter said, gently wrapping his hand around her elbow to get her attention. “We finally have the chance to be tourists in New York!”

“You two heading somewhere?” Janet had somehow popped up by their side despite being on the other side of the quad thirty seconds ago.

“We got permission for an off-campus weekend trip,” Gamora said, leaning into Peter slightly, suddenly unsure of what to do with her hands. “We need to stock up on supplies for the Milano anyways, and it will certainly be more relaxing than last weekend.”

“Oh, how sweet,” Janet gushed, clapping her hands together. “Send me pictures? I’d love to get some cute couples selfies for a little collage I want to put together for the yearbook.”

“We can do that,” Peter replied, sliding his arm around Gamora’s shoulder. He turned to kiss the side of her head, a light pressure that she wasn't used to. His stubble was itchy, even through her hair. Janet let out another ‘aww’ before letting them go. Turning back to Gamora, he began to list things off his fingers, though his other arm remained around her as if he’d forgotten it was there. “So we've got a shopping list, an itinerary from Mantis, hotel booking thanks to Pepper, and one of a million of Tony’s cars.”

“And apparently you still need to pack,” Gamora said dryly. “I finished yesterday.”

“Aw, crap.”

______

It turned out, packing took a while. Saying goodbye to the Guardians took even longer. Peter put Drax in charge which made Rocket angry, Gamora lectured Nebula and Yondu about playing nice, and Groot, predictably, pouted and asked them to take him along (or at least, that's what Mantis had interpreted. Rocket snarkily told them he was tears of joy that they were finally leaving).

Eventually, they drove off, both in sweatpants for once instead of their uniforms or training duds. Gamora, in particular, had her hood up, feeling self-conscious about her skin in a way she never had before. As expected, Peter found an oldies radio five minutes after they were on the highway and got excited at a Jackson 5 song he'd never heard. After about ten minutes of attempting to sing along to songs he didn’t know the words to, he eventually gave up and allowed Gamora to switch to the traffic report.

“We should finish that game of 20 Questions tonight at the hotel,” Peter said. “I think we maybe only got through six each.”

“Why only at night? Why not now?” Gamora asked, peeling her eyes away from the skyline. She never realized how isolated the school was until they were here, in the actual city.

“People tend to be more honest at weird hours. Plus it makes it more fun,” he replied, his eyes flickering over to her for a moment. “Besides, I wanted to ask you something now, but I don’t want it to be part of the game.”

“Go ahead.” Gamora steeled herself for the inevitable - a question about Adam, most likely. Peter had been oddly calm about Natasha’s accusation and the fact Gamora had been with him in the first place. He had pried so much during that night in the medbay, almost like he was instructing her to date Adam, was he really gonna let that go?

“That outfit you wore to the funeral, I don’t think I’ve ever seen those clothes before. They yours?”

Oh. That was unexpected, though pleasantly so. It was an easy question to answer.  “The top and skirt are Janet’s, the cape is mine. Why?”

“It wasn't what I thought - honestly, I assumed you were going to wear your usual, since it's all black anyways,” Peter admitted. “You looked really nice. I mean, not that you don’t usually look nice, I’ve just gotten so used to your normal clothes that - ”

“Quill,” she interrupted. “I understand. Thank you.” He nodded, looking abashedly grateful she had stopped his word vomit. “So, we get to the hotel at six, and then what are we doing for dinner?”

“I was just gonna order pizza, to be honest. I figured you wouldn’t really want to eat in public for this trip?” he guessed.

Gamora looked down at herself for a moment. Sweatpants, an oversized hoodie, gloves, sunglasses, a baseball cap. She had regular clothes for their impending “dates” in public spaces, but Peter had cautioned her against dressing the same way for when they were just walking around or going into stores.

“People get...weird about different skin colours,” Peter had told her. “In places like the art galleries and museums, we have special Academy passes, so people’ll know we’re from the Guardians, but I just think it’d be safer to cover up if we’re just out and about.”

She couldn’t really fathom what he spoke about - many planets far beyond Terra, though they had their issues, took little notice when it came to physical appearance, only putting stock into strength, knowledge, wit, and possessions. “I don’t really think being out in public in general is a great idea,” she said carefully, “but if it helps boost our reputation as helpful, reliable members of Terran society, I will do it. Having pizza in our hotel room does sound more enjoyable, though.”

Peter hummed in agreement, and they fell silent for a moment as they listened to the traffic report, helpfully informing them that were a couple car accidents that were thankfully nowhere near their route. “By the way, I feel like I should warn you - obviously, since I didn’t book the room, we have one king size bed, not two doubles like I was thinking of.”

“WHAT?!” Gamora exclaimed loudly, causing Peter to jump and almost hit the horn in the process. “Could you not have told Pepper that we aren’t at the bed-sharing stage yet?”

He looked guilty. “I was talking to Pepper about getting reservations, Stark was there, so he asked about how we were doing. I may have told them the story we came up with about how we started dating, and I may have exaggerated and added on a bit about how we fell asleep in my room together that night because wow, emotional talk, and I am really glad I’m driving right now and you can’t hold a knife to my throat - gah!” Gamora had prodded him in the side with a sharp fingernail instead.

“You are unbelievable,” Gamora hissed. “You couldn’t have told me this before?”

“Would you believe me if I said it slipped my mind?” Peter said, chuckling nervously. “It’s just three nights, Gamora. Besides, it’d look kinda weird to people if they found out we had separate beds.”

“We could have made a believable story about why we did if you had told me,” Gamora grumbled, reluctant to admit he was kind of right. Peter was definitely more right than she wanted him to be sometimes.

The rest of the drive was somewhat tense, though Peter managed to joke his way back into Gamora’s good graces as he usually did. They arrived on schedule, in which Peter checked in, batting eyelashes at the middle-aged receptionist while he asked about their complimentary breakfast, Gamora hovering behind him with their bags, her hood and sunglasses still firmly on her head.

“Is your girlfriend alright, Mister Quill?” the receptionist asked kindly, glancing over Peter’s shoulder. “She looks...nervous.”

“We’re from the Guardians of the Galaxy, ma’am,” Peter said confidently, and Gamora could practically see him puffing his chest out a little as part of his declaration. “She’s just a bit worried about being stared at or attacked in public.”

The receptionist nodded, satisfied with his answer, and handed him two sets of room keys and their receipt, along with a map of the city. “Enjoy your stay!”

“We will, thank you,” Peter said cheerily, pointing Gamora in the direction of the elevators.

Their room was relatively nice, as Pepper had managed to talk Fury into letting her book them one of the fanciest Best Westerns in the city (“Don’t waste our budget on extraneous nonsense, Potts!”). There was a full kitchen, a leather couch and a flatscreen TV, and yes, one king-sized bed with an excessive amount of pillows and a towel folded to resemble a zoo animal (today was an elephant).

Gamora wandered out onto the balcony, finally pushing her hood down and removing her hat and sunglasses. She let her hair out of its ponytail and allowed the breeze to rustle through her hair. Although the air wasn’t particularly pleasant, it was better than the muggy air of the highway. “We should take a picture for Janet right here,” she decided.

Peter joined her on the balcony, fussing over his hair for a moment until Gamora slapped his wrist, telling him he looked fine. “So I’m not terrible-looking?” he joked, and she rolled her eyes in response. He wasn’t going to let that go, was he?

They awkwardly rotated in one spot for a few moments to find the best angle to avoid sunlight, before Gamora held up her phone, arm outstretched as far as possible (Peter was too tall in comparison when she was going barefoot). They took a few different ones, trying to be as close as possible without literally being back-to-chest.

“We have arrived at our hotel room. Quill already wants pizza,” Gamora texted to her girls’ group chat. “I smell like car exhaust.”

Peter chuckled as he read her message over her shoulder, moving back into the room to strip off his jacket and shoes. “This’ll be fun,” he called to her. “Like a team-building exercise without the rest of our team here. You’re practically the co-leader of the Guardians with me, so maybe we’ll be better at the job afterwards.”

“We still have so much time left to keep up this ruse,” Gamora said as a series of “OMG CUTE” messages flooded in from Janet and Kamala. “I would hope we’re better teammates after this.” She turned, only to realize Peter was also changing into a more relaxed T-shirt, unlike the training undershirt he had on before. Her eyes flickered briefly over his abs (how the hell was he so well-defined, he avoided the gym at all costs) before turning away again. “Pizza?”

______

“So what did you have planned for ‘em, bug-girl?” Yondu was in his usual spot on the couch, dirty boots on the coffee table, chewing thoughtfully on a toothpick. It was the first night without their leaders, and despite them all putting on a brave face, it was weird without Peter’s humour and background music, and Gamora’s brisk efficiency and deadpan nature.

“I searched up ‘romantic date ideas in New York City’ and have picked some of my favourites that I think Peter and Gamora will like,” Mantis said. Groot was sitting on her forearm, attempting to scroll through her list. “After getting supplies tomorrow morning, they will go for a walk through Central Park tomorrow afternoon, a musical in the evening, and then the museum and a light show on Sunday.”

“Sounds like a bunch of cliches t’me,” Rocket said, setting aside one of his blaster guns to grab the tablet out of Mantis’s hands. “You really think Gamora’s gonna go for this kinda stuff?”

“The museum they are going to has a large exhibit on weaponry and armour that I have directed them to,” Mantis said, snatching it back so she could open up pictures on The Met’s website. “And the musical I chose is based on a movie that was recommended to Peter, and he quite enjoyed. It will be a good mix for them both.”

“Is this a movie that Quill and Gamora have watched together? What is it about?” Drax approached her, curious.

“It is about love,” Mantis said, her eyes growing even wider in excitement. “I am not sure if they have watched it together, though. But I think it will be a good first step in getting them to think of each other in a romantic way!”

“Ugh,” Nebula groaned from the corner. She couldn’t believe she was thinking this, but things might have actually been better when Gamora was around. At least they wouldn’t talk about this stuff so loudly if she were near.

______

Peter tossed the last of his crust into the greasy box with a groan. He couldn’t possibly eat any more. He and Gamora were seated on the floor of the living space with their backs against the couch, the pizza box on the coffee table, their shoulders pressed together, both already changed into their sleep clothes. It had been a relatively short drive, but they were already physically drained from being cramped in the car, unused to traveling in a vehicle that wouldn’t allow them to walk around freely.

“I think I’m only awake enough for two questions of twenty tonight,” Gamora admitted, taking a swig of water.

“Are you awake enough for a movie? I was gonna show you Groundhog Day, since we’re watching the musical tomorrow,” Peter said, holding up the flash drive Stark had loaned to him.

“Movie first, two questions, then sleep,” Gamora decided. When Peter didn’t immediately react, she turned to look at him, and that odd smile of his was back again. “What?”

“I like this better than us fighting all the time,” Peter grinned. “You actually want to spend time with me.”

She turned away for a moment, shy. “Well, I have decided that you’re my best friend, too.”

“That’s awesome,” he murmured, his eyes crinkling at the corners as his grin deepened. “I’m uh, glad you feel that way.”

She nodded, smiling tentatively back. “Just start the movie, Quill, before I fall asleep on you.”

______

Two hours later, Gamora managed to drag herself to her feet and clean up their garbage, then collapse onto the bed where Peter was already lying face down. She poked him to double check he hadn’t suffocated in the mountain of pillows.

“Argh - oh hey.” He had shot up like a rocket and nearly hit her in the face on the way. “Two questions, then bed. But first, lights off.”

Gamora watched him carefully as he sluggishly moved around the room to turn everything off, the only light source being the city life twinkling through the window. It felt intimate at first - though her body modifications gave her quite good night vision, there was something about the surrounding darkness that made everything feel more...significant. “I want to ask a question similar to your last,” she decided. “Are you happy being the leader of the Guardians? And I don’t just mean for our team specifically, but also just...being a leader in general. Does it feel like something you’ve always wanted to do?”

He settled back down on the bed, and though there was a relatively decent amount of space between them - and they had stood much closer before - the feeling of lying down next to someone, falling asleep next to someone, and trusting nothing would happen in the night, was a foreign feeling to Gamora. It felt like an eternity ago that she was living in Sanctuary with the other children of Thanos, afraid to fall asleep at the risk of being murdered the moment her eyes fell shut. She and Nebula especially seemed prone to targeting from the others, being the most outwardly strong and beloved (if you could call it that) by Thanos.

“Not something I ever thought I would do,” Peter said, his eyes flickering up to the ceiling. “But my mom, she was always scolding me for picking fights with people who hurt the little guys. So maybe being a leader came from that? Wanting to be the first to help people? And, y’know, in the context of the Guardians, I'd say I’m team leader because the rest of you are terrible with people.”

“I'm getting better,” Gamora protested. He reached over to pat her hand.

“You totally are,” he agreed. “Especially since you're like Groot’s mom or something - it's good practice.”

“We’re practically raising him together,” Gamora said. “He calls us his parents.” For some reason, Peter found himself thinking of he, Gamora, and Groot in some odd version of the American Gothic painting. But instead of Peter holding the pitchfork, Gamora would be holding her Godslayer (Groot would be sitting on the handle).

“What did you want to be when you were a kid?”

She hummed softly. “I don't think I ever saw life that way, even before Thanos,” she said thoughtfully. “I didn't grow up wealthy, so I didn't think I had a lot of prospects on my homeworld. I probably assumed I would own a shop or be a teacher at most.”

“Never had dreams for anything bigger?”

“There was no bigger to begin with,” she said, her voice tinged with sadness. “Being a Guardian - it’s a whole new dream altogether.” They had somehow shifted closer between questions, their arms and hands grazing each other casually. She could see freckles forming on Peter’s nose, a result of exposure to the sun. Peter had been bragging to a few girls a couple months ago that he liked spending summers working on the Milano with his shirt off. At the time, she had rolled her eyes as the other girls giggled and said they'd like to watch. Now, she was vaguely curious if he was going to follow through. “You must've had some interesting dreams as a child, then.”

“Same question again, huh? I was a typical kid - cop, astronaut, pirate. I guess in a way I'm kind of a combination of all of them. I mean, Ravagers are straight up space pirates. And the Guardians of the Galaxy is just a super fancy name for space cops.”

“I suppose it is,” she said. Her voice was near a whisper now, as sirens and car alarms sounded outside, flooding the otherwise dull hum of the AC working its way through their room. “Your turn.”

He stared at her consideringly, contemplating his next question. Even in the darkness, his grey-green eyes were still bright with the sort of frenetic energy people had come to expect of Peter. “If you had to change one thing about me, what would it be?”

She supposed he thought it would be difficult, yet funnily enough, she found it one of the easiest to answer. “Your discipline,” she replied. “You are good at focusing on things - sometimes to the point of fixation - but you still let other things distract you from the goal. It's something to work on, I think.”

“Interesting,” Peter said softly. “I thought you were gonna say something about how annoying I am.”

Gamora huffed. “You are annoying, but it doesn't mean I'd change that about you. Who else managed to confuse Ronan and the Chitauri and Ayesha and - ”

“Alright, I got the point.” He reached over to squeeze her hand again, and Gamora really shouldn't be getting used to the feeling of Peter’s hand in hers. “Hey, I’m glad you like doing this with me. I know you aren't the most talkative person in the world, but I like that we're getting to know each other like this.”

She smiled, squeezing back. “I'm enjoying it, too. Just don't tell anyone. Or - ” She was interrupted by Peter’s gentle laugh, as he pulled his hand away to bury his face in a pillow. It was an endearing sight. “I really should stop saying that,” she admitted with a chuckle of her own. “Goodnight, Quill.”

a/n: i’m a sucker for bed-sharing. also, it’s really hard to headcanon anything about gamora’s childhood when literally the only thing known about zen-whoberi is that it’s “moderately advanced” ;_;