#never mind that I have absolutely no merchandise

[saintsenara]

Senara, as a resident serious adult with a good grasp on the UK political and cultural landscape, AND the Harry Potter fandom, may I ask:

What impact does the fandom actually have on policies that impact transgender people?

I want to be the best ally I can be to trans folk, and I have seen discussions advocating that the Harry Potter franchise falling into oblivion is the only real way to de-platform JK Rowling.

I don’t entirely disagree - but I also suspect that the fandom as we know on Tumblr and Discord could be a much less influential bubble than it thinks itself to be, and not the main target audience for new movies, shows, and merchandising.

Is simply not consuming products from the franchise enough, or is engaging in extremely niche discussions on a cloudless micro-blogging platform still fanning the fire of Harry Potter, and giving ammunition to JKR to continue on her rampage of infantilising those who challenge her and targeting trans rights?

I don’t want to be naive or wilfully ignorant about my participation in this culture. But I want to know if blogging about Snupin smut and reading fanfiction on free independent platforms still trickles down to making JKR’s voice louder.

I also sometimes think that Harry Potter achieved the status of undeniable cultural staple, and oblivion is simply not an option - much like Alice in Wonderland and Peter Pan. I can force myself to forget and never engage with it again, but is it at all realistic in a global scale?

Is there an erroneous assumption that most of us on tumblr and discord are on team “fuck JKR, read fanfcition and pirate the books”? Or are offline elder millennials buying HP merch and reading the books to their kids carrying the franchise on their backs?

Or none of this matters, because HP is already part of the popular imagination, and it’s the tragedy of our times that big corporations will inevitably milk it forever?

Hope this is not too much of an awkward question, I really appreciate your insights

the way that the fandom impacts trans rights is by earning jkr money.

jkr's public transphobia - her comments on twitter etc. - absolutely contributes to recruiting others to the anti-trans cause, and that shouldn't be downplayed.

but being loud and wrong on social media isn't the same as having political or legal authority - jkr doesn't have this, and she doesn't deserve people thinking she does.

how she causes material harm to trans people in the uk [which then hurts all trans people, because other places may choose to follow suit] is because she donates colossal sums of money to legal cases which challenge trans people's rights. it's not just yesterday's judgement from the uk supreme court - in which the plaintiff was an anti-trans group she's on the record as having donated £70,000 to - she does it all the time.

she can donate this money because it's loose change for her. she makes millions every year.

and it doesn't come from mid-tier detective fiction, does it?

so, yes, here is the first truth - if she doesn't earn any money from you, you're not contributing to the overarching way her anti-trans crusade has an impact, and that matters.

but there is also a second truth - that you need to go beyond that.

several things need to be borne in mind:

jkr is one of the most visible - if not the single most visible - transphobes in the world. but she's not the only one.

the tendency to make her the figurehead of a transphobic movement, and to assume that disengaging with harry potter without doing anything else is enough may be comforting. but it's also wrong.

indeed, a lot of the people who have the greatest power to harm trans rights are nowhere near as visible as jkr - politicians, lawyers, journalists, academics, doctors, and so on. the supreme court did not reach its judgement because of jkr. the assault on trans rights which will unfold from the judgement will not happen because of her.

i'm not saying this to deny jkr's influence or to imply that she's not dangerous.

i'm saying it because i think it's important to remember that she has a vested interest in you feeling tiny and hopeless in the face of her money - in you thinking that she's the head of a movement and that movement is winning.

instead, the uk terf movement is fragmented and riddled with internecine beef. plenty of its factions don't actually like jkr - and she doesn't like plenty of them.

it can be fought, and it can be fought at the grassroots while she's in her mouldy tower being a bigot on twitter.

it's worth being absolutely clear that yesterday's supreme court ruling was not - in and of itself - new legislation. the uk supreme court does not have the power to make new laws. only parliament can do that.

it was a "clarification" - which is to say that it was an interpretation - of existing legislation. it - by itself - doesn't compel an institution or organisation to change anything. and it is, therefore, an interpretation which can be pushed back against.

this has already started - there's an excellent summary of objections to the judgement, which also provides a rebuttal to the crowing many terfs are doing about how trans rights are being rolled back by pointing out all the ways in which they will not be surrendered:

sadly, this is behind a paywall. it's summarised here, in an article from the same writer, a practising barrister who is a specialist in employment and discrimination law:

and all of us can do things which enable that pushback to continue, above all, in making clear to our mps that they only have our votes if they - at a bare minimum - continue to defend trans rights.

find their contact details here:

if you have an mp who is clear that they support restrictions on trans rights, then actively oppose them - call for them to be reselected at the next election [sadly a while away...], canvas for an opponent etc.

support institutions which continue to defend trans rights. the supreme court judgement doesn't force places to, for example, ban trans women from entering women's toilets [parliament could pass legislation which does, but that doesn't exist yet, and that's why you need to contact your mp], but plenty will be frightened into doing so. be loud about how you value and will continue to use businesses and services which don't bend to transphobic pressure.

donate to trans charities. lots are circulating, but here are some specifically northern irish options, which tend to otherwise get overlooked:

boost stories about the impact of transphobic legislation. it's crucial that you don't underestimate how little the average person knows about this [and about jkr's role in it in particular] - and this is something which helps anti-trans messaging sound more reasonable. but we can reach them first.

what you do with harry potter as a thing beyond this is always going to be subjective. i've set out more on my personal approach before - here - and, of course, you may do what you want.

but - since you've asked - i think two things are true:

on the one hand, harry potter is a juggernaut. the tumblr subsection of the fandom could disappear tonight and the impact would be minimal - harry potter is probably one of the most mainstream cultural products in the world.

and that's how it makes jkr money - branded merchandise, the theme parks, the studio tour, royalties from streaming, and so on.

fandom doesn't require you to engage with any of these. and i do think it's acceptable to understand a commitment not to give jkr money as a viable and sincerely significant harm-reduction strategy.

however.

on the other hand, the vitality of the fandom plays a role in making harry potter marketable. this is undeniable.

and this is the case for all areas of the fandom - i see a lot of cope ["jkr would hate my queer otp!"], but people can get sucked into liking harry potter through anything. having a non-canon take on things, or writing dead dove, or whatever doesn't prevent that.

but it's especially the case for areas of the fandom which are prominent in pop-culture independently of jkr.

i don't just mean the marauders subfandom here - i think we can all stand to grapple with this implication, and i think there's a tendency from people in less prominent fandom subsections to think that they don't have to, which exists at the other end of a spectrum from the tendency from people in the marauders subfandom to assume that their lax approach to canon absolves them from any connection to jkr.

this is a difficult circle to square because it's something which gives jkr visibility indirectly. there's no way, for example, that she's in contact with e.g. artists whose songs go viral in marauders tiktoks, whose youtube comments are then flooded with "can't believe i'm thinking about harry potter's dead dad 😭". and she doesn't earn money from it.

fanfiction and fanart also lives in this indirect space.

jkr doesn't gain any money from it - and that is important. it's also a medium which may engage with the subject matter of the series critically - through taking issue with how she writes about gender, for example - and this is important as well.

but she doesn't gain nothing from it either.

my personal view is that the only way to remain in fandom is two-fold:

as discussed, make sure you're actually doing something in defence of trans people in your real life...

and make sure that your indirect contribution to jkr's nonsense never becomes a direct one.

that is to say, don't spend any money.

and - and this is the important thing - actually mean that.

i think that a very important thing to do if you want to stay in the fandom is to work on building yourself a mental defence against the fear of missing out.

by which i mean... in the circles in which i move, people seem - at the moment - to universally agree that they won't be watching the new television adaptation.

but i find it very striking - and very concerning - that lots of people seem to be taking the view that doing this will be easy, because the tv show won't be any good.

i strongly - strongly - advise you to prepare yourselves for the opposite. expect that the show will be absolutely outstanding. deal with your disappointment in missing out in advance. and do not engage with it, no matter what it tries to tempt you with.

we are about to see an unprecedented level of fan service. every single complaint people made about the film series will be addressed. it's going to make sure that ron is written book-accurately. it's going to give romione or hinny or whatever as it "should have been" in the films. it's going to whip out some really big name casting [cillian murphy has had months to shut down the rumour that he's voldemort... and if it comes to pass, his casting will bring a legion of peaky blinders fans on board. do not be one of them.]. i would bet my house that it's going to make wolfstar canon.

and it's going to do this because it knows that's how people who have committed to not watching it will waver - that, when faced with "i've got the chance to see x done properly" or "god, i love y in everything else they're in", people will go "lol, no ethical consumption under capitalism" and consume anyway.

but there is a more ethical strand of harry potter consumption, and that's consumption which does all it can to limit its impact to only benefitting jkr indirectly, and which takes that task seriously.

[slav-every-day]

[nadvs]

cam girl (part ten)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Rafe is on your mind constantly. At this point, you’ve accepted it. There was something about the way he looked at you in his car last night. Possibly. Hopefully.

You stand in a quiet aisle, eyeing merchandise while you hold the charm on the necklace he gave you, the metal warm under your fingertips.

You’d never been in a sex shop before. The guys you hooked up with before Rafe were nowhere near as kinky as him and you bought all the stuff you needed to be a cam girl online.

But seeing all the possibilities makes your stomach twist with excitement. You want to try absolutely everything with Rafe.

You’ve been thinking about coming here throughout all your classes today with one thing in mind. Rafe loves to use toys on you, but you’ve never used anything on him.

With Rafe’s need for control, you assume he won’t be all that open to using a cock ring, but you want to do something special for him. Maybe you can introduce him to something for a change.

You find a vibrating ring that you know will fit him, then decide to send him a photo of the toys in the aisle behind you and text him: this is a great place to meet guys.

Before you’re even at the register, your phone buzzes.

Rafe: dont joke like that

Rafe: buying something for yourself princess?

He sends you $100.

You reply: something like that :)

You check out at the register and head home, already looking forward to tonight. Your phone buzzes again.

Rafe: when can i come over?

You smile at your phone.

You: what about our cam session?

You get a notification that he sent $1000. The alert makes you wonder if he thinks you’re just doing all this solely for the money and gifts.

You’d do it all for free.

Rafe: i won’t wait that long

Not just can’t. He won’t.

You reply: like 8ish?

Rafe: ok

It starts to rain close to 8 and when Rafe arrives at your place, his hair is wet and his face and jacket are peppered with raindrops.

“Is the valet not working today?” you joke, knowing full well he had to find street parking on your busy road.

He breathes a chuckle, stepping into your apartment with his usual ease. You’ve noticed that he walks into every room like he owns it.

Rafe shakes off his jacket and places it on the back of one of your kitchen table chairs while you grab a clean hand towel out of your hamper.

“Sorry this towel’s not a million thread count,” you tease, meeting him to dab the towel over his face.

His blue eyes search your face with a hint of something new. Confusion?

You realize you didn’t even think about it; you thoughtlessly started to dry him off. It was such a mechanical response. Your impulse is to take care of him, make him comfortable.

It’s official. This man is not just a fuck buddy to you anymore.

“What?” you ask, knowing you need to crack a joke to break the tension. “I’m just drying off my seat.”

“Oh, my God,” Rafe groans, trying to act annoyed, but you know he’s not. You laugh and lower the towel, squeezing the cotton in your hands.

“What’d you buy?” he asks, clearly eager.

“I’ll show you later. I wanna hear what you have planned,” you say. “You always have something planned.”

“You first,” he says.

“Rafe,” you whine, dropping the towel to rest your hands on his firm shoulders. “Can’t I surprise you for once? What do you want to do to me tonight?”

“I wanna see what you bought,” Rafe solidifies.

You suck your teeth in frustration, looking up at him with doe eyes.

“Please?” you breathe. “I’m always the one waiting. Why don’t you wait for once?”

Rafe’s jaw tightens and he shakes his head in disbelief like he can’t believe he’s giving in, but he gives in.

“You ever been tied up?” he finally asks, his voice so deep that it reverberates through you. The air is suddenly thick and any impression of humor that was floating between you has been dismissed by his words.

“Like… bondage?” you say in a short breath, mulling it over as blood rushes to your cheeks. “No. I haven’t.”

He closes the already minuscule distance between you, cradling your jaw in his cool hand.

“I want your hands tied up while I fuck you,” he says. Your mouth goes dry. Just when you think he can’t get any fucking hotter.

Rafe’s hand drops and you hear his belt unbuckling while his hot breath spreads across your cheek.

“Why the fuck are you still dressed?” he rasps. You’re reeling as you strip down to nothing but the necklace he gave you. You hear the clang of his belt buckle falling onto your kitchen table beside you.

Rafe’s hands drag over your hips, pinching down when he turns you to face the other way. He’s still in his boxers, his cock jabbing against your ass. His warm chest is pressed on your back, rising and falling.

“You’re always the one waiting?” he mutters. The belt buckle drags off the table top, and when you feel him roughly grab both your wrists and wrap the thick leather around them, the familiar need for him between your legs aches.

“You’re always waiting,” he repeats with a scoff. “I’m the one who’s always fucking waiting.”

You want to know what he means, but the belt is suddenly tight around your wrists, your chest jutting out. Rafe pushes you by the back of your neck so that your front is down on your table, your cheek flush against the hard plastic.

“Spread your legs,” he orders.

The muscles in your thighs are strained and your hips burn against the hard table from the way he has you bent over. He couldn’t even spare the few seconds to go to your bedroom.

You feel his tip press against you, making you wonder which hole he wants to fuck.

“Beg for it,” he orders. His fingers tighten around the back of your neck. Your arms are already burning from being bound like this.

“Please fuck me,” you moan, lips flanged from how hard your cheek is being pushed against the table.

“Say my fucking name,” he tells you.

“Please, Rafe,” you obey. He groans in response, hands settling on your hips.

He stretches your cunt out so fucking slowly that you want to scream. You push back against him, and you swear, he laughs at your desperation.

Rafe finally bottoms out in you, his hips against your ass. He puts his hand over your bound wrists, starting to drag out again.

“This pussy is fucking mine,” he says. As if you need the reminder. He owns you completely.

When he picks up the pace, driving into you, your breath hitches. With every thrust, your hips grind against the hard table, making you ache in pain.

“Ow,” you snip before you can stop yourself.

Rafe immediately pulls out of you, making you writhe in frustration.

“What hurts?”

“Nothing,” you lie, wanting him more than you want the pain to stop. “Keep going.”

“What hurts?” he repeats sternly.

“My hips,” you admit. “I’m fine, it’s just ‘cause of the table. Please just-”

“I’m not making you cry again,” he snaps. He cups a hand on your shoulder. “Go to your bed.”

“Rafe, it’s fine.” You feel oddly ashamed, like you’re not doing your job pleasing him how he wants you to.

“Go,” he mutters. His hand pulls you up and you have no choice but to let him push you into your bedroom.

Your wrists are still bound at your lower back when he bends you over your bed. You sink onto your stomach, feeling Rafe’s fingers spread you open before driving his cock into you again.

You squeeze your eyes shut as he relentlessly pounds in and out of you. Your arms strain against the constrictions of his belt, the sensations so fucking perfect.

“Shit, I’m…” he groans, and you know he’s close, so you try to tilt up your hips so he can get as deep as possible.

Rafe shakes through his orgasm and you think how you could never tire of this feeling, of being the one he finishes inside of and reaches this feeling with.

He’s panting when he pulls out of you. Your wrists burn against the belt as he loosens it. His hand smooths over your ass before he spanks you and collapses beside you.

“Show me what you bought,” he says. “It better make you cum.” You tilt your head to meet his gaze.

“Have an open mind, okay?”

“Damn, what the fuck is it?” Rafe asks with a curious laugh.

You’re sore as you get up on your knees and shift to grab the white ring you already took out of the packaging and placed in your nightstand.

When you settle back on the bed and hold it out in front of him, his brows furrow.

“Is that…?” He can’t finish the sentence, his tone apprehensive.

“It might feel really good,” you say with a small smile. “I got a vibrating one.”

Rafe sits up, glancing down at your purchase before looking up at you again.

“Come on,” you laugh. “You surprise me all the time. I can’t surprise you?”

He clears his throat.

“I don’t know,” he says simply, blinking fast. It sounds like a hard no.

“Oh,” you say. You’re shocked he’s not at least a little open to it, considering how kinky he is. “Okay. Sorry.”

You turn to put the toy away, but his next words stop you.

“Fuck,” he breathes out. “Fine.”

“Really?” you ask, meeting his eyes again.

“You just look so fucking sad,” he groans.

“You don’t have to do it.”

“Let’s just try it.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “After everything I do to you…” You smile in response.

Rafe sits up against the head of your bed frame and you straddle him, dipping your head to kiss him. It’s strange how with him, making out feels more intimate than sex does. As good as the sex is, nothing gets your heart fluttering quite like when his lips are on yours.

Your hands settle on his shoulders and you tug at the ends of hair as you kiss him passionately.

Rafe smiles under the kiss, your lips molding together, his tongue tumbling with yours. You feel him getting hard again.

You pull back to slide the ring down his cock and he sighs in a way that tells you he can’t believe he’s actually doing this before he takes you in to kiss you again.

Rafe’s hands roll over your ass, squeezing and kneading as you sit on his naked lap. This is the longest you’ve ever kissed. It feels crazy to realize that, considering everything you’ve done together.

“Shit,” he shifts beneath you. His cock is growing, the ring starting to squeeze around him.

“How’s it feel?” you ask.

“Good,” he breathes, eyes low. It makes your heart swell with pride. “Ride me.”

You sink down on him slowly, feeling the ring against you once you’re fully seated. You find the button at the top of it to turn on the vibration.

You both exhale in pleasure at the same time. He skims his hands up to your waist, looking at you while you grind on top of him.

In the dim light of your quiet bedroom, the toy buzzing against your clit, how deep he is inside you, the way his eyes are locked on yours… it’s all so perfect. Everything with him is so fucking perfect that it can’t be true.

The fact that you ended up here all because of a part-time cleaning job and a cam website feels insane.

Your palm is against his hot chest. He looks down at it and his dimples dip into his cheeks as he smiles smugly.

“Your hands are so fucking cute,” he teases. The non-sexual compliment sends you into a tizzy.

“Yours are huge,” you retort, trying to keep cool.

“What else is huge?” he asks.

“Your ego.”

“Fuck off,” he laughs.

“Okay,” you tease, starting to sit up so he’ll slip out of you. He roughly pulls you back down by your hips.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Rafe mutters. You laugh and start to fuck him faster, your hips rolling in circles.

“Fuck,” he groans, head tilting back. “I… Fuck, I need to get on top.”

You shift to let him settle over you, your head resting on your pillow. Rafe’s hand runs up the side of your bent leg and he grabs your calf to pull it towards him, silently inviting you to wrap your legs around him.

You hook your ankles together, your entire body hugging him.

You fuck for at least twenty straight minutes, both of you sweating and panting and shaking. You knew he’d last extra long with the cock ring tight around him, but this is unbelievable.

You cum twice underneath him in the span of the session, earning a string of “good girl”s from him. By your third orgasm, he starts to tremble, too.

When Rafe cums inside you, his name tumbles out in his groan. Not princess, not baby, not good girl, but your name, and it gives you a knotted feeling in your stomach that you haven’t had with him yet.

Maybe it’s because he’s elated over coming down from a new level. Or maybe it’s more.

He pulls out, still dripping.

“So… you like my present?” you ask when he falls in your bed next to you.

“Fuck,” Rafe groans. “That was…” He doesn’t seem to have the words, but neither do you. How do you even begin to describe something this unreal?

“I need water,” you say, unsure of how you’re going to even stand up. “Want some?”

He shakes his head in response.

You stand at your kitchen sink, leaning against the counter and swallowing down cold water. On your way back to the bedroom, you notice a lit up screen on your kitchen table.

Rafe must have left his phone here before you moved to the bed. Through pure instinct, you look at the screen. By the time you realize you’re accidentally snooping, it’s too late.

You don’t see the contact name in time, but you do see the message.

bro where are you? too many bitches here for just me lol

A chill rushes through your body. It must be one of his buddies waiting for him at a party.

Of course. It’s a Friday night and you’re pretty sure all the rich people on the island have to do is party.

You feel like an idiot. Expecting exclusivity from Rafe in the arrangement you’re in was ridiculous. Of course he’s fucking around on the side. Someone like him, with his sex drive, can’t be satisfied by one girl.

At this point, you just want him to leave, so you collect his clothes off the kitchen floor.

Thankfully, Rafe’s already sitting up in your bed when you reenter your bedroom. Surely eager to go.

“Here,” you say coldly, handing him his jeans and t-shirt. You don’t look at him when he takes his clothes from you. “Are you gonna head out?”

You realize when you ask the question, it’s like a secret test you’re putting him through. If he stays, he gives a shit about you. If he leaves, he doesn’t.

“Yeah, I should,” he says. He should. Yeah, he really should go look at and flirt with and fuck other girls.

“‘Kay.” You start to collect some clean clothes from your dresser, covering your body with them, feeling strangely insecure around him now.

“You pissed off or something?” he asks behind you as he gets dressed.

You clench your jaw. Honestly, you’re more hurt than anything. But are you even allowed to be? Just because he acts like your boyfriend sometimes doesn’t mean he is.

“No,” you reply. You swallow down the painful feelings and turn to look at him. “Just tired.” You think back to your texts yesterday about how often you’ve hooked up. “Lost count, right? I might need a break.”

You don’t mean it. At this point, you’re just defensive. Wanting to hurt him like he hurt you.

Rafe’s face flashes in displeasure.

“What - why? What the fuck happened in the last fucking minute?” he asks.

“I’m not allowed to be tired?” you respond.

He dips his head, nodding as he buttons his jeans. He seems silenced by his own anger. Your eyes sweep down his muscled body, wishing he’d just hug you and ask you what’s wrong one more time and reassure you that you’re more than just sex to him.

You can tell he’s pissed off and you know you’re not being fair, but you let him leave without any more words exchanged between you.

After a long shower, you lie in bed and wish Rafe didn’t leave his smell on your pillow. You browse your phone, trying to distract yourself.

You tell yourself you’ll go to sleep in five minutes over and over again. You’re working at the estate tomorrow. You need to get up early. But you know the moment you close your eyes, you’ll be trapped in your thoughts. You don’t want to think about him.

It’s nearing midnight when a text comes in.

Rafe: princessssssdsssss

You look at your screen in confusion. Is this a drunk text?

Rafe: ur mean

Rafe: but ypur pussy is sooo niiice lol

Yeah. He’s plastered.

Rafe: ans you have cutehands

Rafe: you akwyas smell good how the fuck is fhat possibke

You hate that your heart warms at the fact that he’s clearly fucked up but his instinct is to text you.

You reply: i think someone’s drunk…

Rafe: yes iam

Rafe: idk what i’m gona do with yiu loool

You: what do you want to do with me?

You get an alert that he sent you $69.

Rafe: that

Rafe: looool

Sex. Of course.

You: are you going to make me do every position?

Rafe: you’r efreaky as fuck. i know youd like it

You: true…

Rafe: lowkey ur all i think about

Goddamn it. Your heart is pounding at this point. You try to play it off.

You: oh only lowkey. cool

Rafe: don’t be maddd

You: i’m pissed

Rafe: we should fuck aboutt it :)

You know the answer to your next question, that he sees you as a booty call and that’s all, but you know the confirmation.

You: is that all you want to do rafe? fuck?

Rafe: YES

Rafe: what if i come over again tonigjt lol

You: i work tomorrow. i need to sleep

Rafe: you need this dick

You: omg

Rafe: do you likw this skng

Rafe: song

You: ??? what song

You can’t stifle your laugh at how shit-faced he is.

Rafe: irs good

Rafe: u should giveme a lap dance

You: you’re drunk as hell. i’ll see you tomorrow, ok? goodnight

You think back to the way he looked when you snapped at him earlier and decide to send one more message.

You: sorry i was mean

He doesn’t reply. Maybe it’s better that way.

Your body is heavy the next morning. You barely make it to the Camerons’ estate. You don’t see Rafe at all in the morning. You’re guessing he crashed at whoever’s party he went to.

You wonder how many bitches, as he and his friends say, he talked to last night.

When it’s time to turn over his bedsheets, you take a moment to take in the familiarity of his bedroom. When you pull over a new fitted sheet, you realize just how exhausted you are.

There’s no reason for another maid to come into this room. It’s on your list only. And Rafe is gone.

So, what’s the harm in lying down to rest, just for a little bit? You’ll do a better job when you’re not exhausted.

You won’t close your eyes.

You lie on his pillow. Okay, maybe you can close your eyes for a minute. You’ll count to sixty then stand back up.

The numbers quickly melt away and you slip into a slumber.

When you wake up, nuzzling your face into the pillow, Rafe is in bed with you, his back to you.

It takes a moment to remember where you are. You sit up and he notices the movement, turning to look at you over his shoulder.

{ read part eleven here }

author’s note: shoutout to my readers for being so creative. thank you to this anon and this anon and to another reader (you know who you are) for your contributions to this chapter! ILY!

[lets-try-some-writing]

Do you have any ideas for Orion and Soundwave being buddies pre-war?

Buddies? Sure. Although I would give them a different non existent definition for their relationship honestly.

I imagine it started as hero worship on Orion's end. He seems like the type to be absolutely enthralled with Soundwave's unique appearance and skillset, probably to the point of collecting data and merchandise. With that in mind, he probably saw Soundwave on Kaon's gladitorial feed not long after Megatronus and promptly decided that yes, he needed to know everything now.

Soundwave, running along a similar train of thought, likely looked at Megatronus's new pen pal and decided to learn everything possible about the archivist to ensure Megatronus's safety. As such, when they inevitably met, I like to think it took all of two minutes for them to decide that there was absolutely no need for small talk and operate on an actions over words type dynamic when not discussing work things.

It likely wasn't an open thing or particularly obvious to the untrained optic, but Orion and Soundwave probably grew closer slowly, but surely via working together alongside Megatronus. Eventually, you get to the point where things such as the following occur regularily:

Orion collects all the data he can find on the datanet and passes it to Soundwave. Soundwave in turn does some digging and returns it. This goes on repeatedly until both parties have created a comprehensive document.

Soundwave and Orion continually hang around at Megatronus's side. Neither acknowledge the other unless prompted. But the moment Megatronus needs something, they work like a well oiled machine.

Both are perfectly content to sit shoulder to shoulder, burning the midnight oil going over something or other Megatronus has either avoided or ignored.

Orion calmly watched Soundwave consume energon in the most bizarre way possible, noted it with a "fascinating" and never commented again. Soundwave, after that incident, tries to scare Orion off with his odd biology, but Orion never reacts beyond wide optics and various murmurs of interest before they again fall into their usual amicable silence.

Soundwave makes it a point to unplug Orion from the datanet whenever he falls into recharge while working. He may or may not maneuver Orion into a more comfortable position because he knows Orion's back will hurt like the pit if he's left as he is.

Orion is one of the few bots who is welcome to touch Soundwave's datacables. Often he simply passes something over with a gentle touch of acknowledgement, and that in it of itself is the greatest show of trust they outwardly express.

Soundwave regularly gives Orion any and all data he had on whatever historical or political power the archivist may have questions related to.

Orion returns the favor by continually bringing Soundwave classified documentation and going over it with some high grade. Soundwave rarely drinks, but when he does, he and Orion have a fantastic time lazily mocking historical inaccuracies.

Soundwave lets Orion help him do his gladiatorial paint before matches, a rare honor which Orion returns by offering Soundwave a vial of his innermost energon after they've had sufficient time to bond over their shared goals.

Soundwave takes Orion to see some of the secret tunnels under Kaon to help him move around without fear of being hurt due to his affiliation with Megatronus.

Orion in turn gets Soundwave a flight permit in Kaon via pulling a few strings. He then politely pays any bail Soundwave may end up stuck with for daring to go against some previously unknown regulation.

To keep Soundwave from having to perform for sponsors in any unsavory manner, Orion saves up his paychecks to "rent" him whenever the threat of a sponsor being more interested in personal attention instead of matches comes up.

Soundwave does his best to repay this debt by not only accepting Orion as an Amica, but also letting him carry Laserbeak from time to time in a show of trust.

Orion in turn gets the necessary upgrades to support fueling a minicon or symbiote (a mod that serves him later during the height of the war).

Soundwave, seeing the lengths Orion goes to for him and Megatronus, grants Orion access to Ravage. The duo become quick friends, a fact Soundwave greatly approves of.

Orion and Soundwave regularly talk exclusively over internal comms or messages. This leaves many beyond bewildered when they act in unison, but Orion and Soundwave are long used to operating in such a way (Megatronus may or may not be a little afraid of them sometimes).

Orion has rights to enter Soundwave's quarters whenever he feels like it for whatever reason. Soundwave has the same privilege with Orion. Both refuse to acknowledge the other but leave out fuel just in case one needs a little top up before heading out.

Orion and Soundwave both enjoy rambling about politics over comms and appreciating Megatronus from a distance. (They may or may not exchange certain merchandise on occasion).

Both go drinking with Megatronus. Soundwave almost always ends up dragging two sloshed bots home to recharge it off.

This dynamic, I imagine, never fully fades even after everything goes to crap. While yes, things have changed, an amica is still an amica. And sometimes, whenever Optimus or Soundwave are feeling particularly alone, they may unblock the other just to revel in the connection before closing up again.

[pix-writes]

The post of Ford being naturally affectionate haven't leave my mind omg but (in your opinion) what about the other way? What would happen if the reader is casually affectionate to the Stan's? Rubbing their hand on their back, leaning their head to his shoulders, briefly touching their hair, etc

I think they are both naturally affectionate, it comes out in them in little ways. But omg if someone did it to them?! Absolutely flustered! I think we've seen a lot from the series and so forth to suggest that both of them don't quite know what to do when someone turns the tables on them, and is geniunely interested in them.

(rest under cut)

Stanley loves it, he'll not think too much of you putting an arm around him or something small like that, but more affectionate touching (e.g your hand rubbing his back) without him somehow initiating it? He's a mess, he's not used to it and gets flustered in the beginning! He panics just a teensy bit and if you ask if he's okay or try to stop the touch he'll reassure you its fine, but he's doing a bad job at maintaining that smooth, confident facade, for sure ^^'

He'll make a few little jokes about it if he feels too startled about you initiating casual affection, even ones that are a little flirty, cause he does like it, he's just not used to it. (like "woah there, toots! hands off the merchandise!" or "you feel that? that's made of husband material!" *wink wink*) xD

He may even confess he doesn't think he'll ever get used to it, which (un)fortunately for him only spurs you on to do it as much as possible. (On a sadder note, I think Stanley has gone without so much affection, especially romantically, or has been used to things going badly in the past, that he might have some moments he's suspicious that you have ulterior motives. But I think, since having the twins over for the summer and reconnecting with his brother he'd be less jumpy/paranoid.)

But he likes a little bit of PDA, Stan's heart will swell with pride and affection at some of those touches, especially if you lean your head on his shoulder, link your arm through his, those sorts of things. It feels 'gentlemanly' to him, like when he used to go to the pictures as a kid, where the young lead would 'court' girls in the movies he watched. I mean, he watches the duchess approves, this man has a romantic streak! Just don't call him a sap, he'll never admit to it. Though, after a while he'll lean into it, and when he does he'll 'get you back' for being affectionate to him, like when you came up to kiss him on the cheek when he had a lull in the tour he was doing? Expect 'revenge' in the form of being teased mercilessly

(the kissing exchange rate is exceptionally high, so now you will receive 5 kisses back! The next day it's 10 kisses, 'why is it so high', you say? inflation ya know? but then stan forgets to count and is like 'ah, screw it!' and drops the play act to properly smooch you <3 if dipper and mabel are around to see these antics they will voice how gross this is haha)

Stanford is more or less the same, in that he has gone without such affection for long periods of time, even if he had friends in other dimensions. Man is more touched starved and not as open (initially) to casual affection from someone, but once he becomes more familiar with you, he would be naturally affectionate too! It catches him off guard a lot more in comparison to his brother, though, he's still adjusting a little to 'normal' life, so its best to make sure he's aware that you're going to touch him as the contact might make him literally jump, out of pure instinct!

He's definitely flustered and surprised that someone else is initiating touch/affection with him, at first he is a little bewildered and feels insecure, he's out of his depth as he feels like doesn't know how to reciprocate and he hates the feeling; he feels bad because he is touch starved some of the time he becomes touch averse. (He'll have to bite the bullet and communicate that it's okay, instead of having an internal meltdown; he's been healing well from the past, so he'll quickly realise this is needed.)

So, he settles into welcoming it, he may be out of practice but it's nice to have someone who is comfortable around him so much that they would want to rest a head on his shoulder or hold his hand or let him hug them. That's just what friends do and he will start to trust and feel safer around you more, for the casual affection you show.

He's a little more reserved than his brother, but nevertheless he does like the attention - especially in public, though he's not really one for PDA, he likes holding your hand.

Just might take him a while to fully realise when its romantic vs platonic, potentially, but if you're already in the romantic zone, I think he'd be a lot more aware that you're being affectionate and he'd still have times he'll blush because of it and get all dreamy-eyed since he's not used to it, but also he just loves the reassurance your physical touch gives him that you love him too! He definitely confesses at points that he doesn't know if he'll ever get used to the casual affection you give to him so easily, will sometimes even apologise for being caught off guard by your affection. Does (rarely) get a little annoyed by your affection when he's absorbed in his work becuase he doesn't want to be distracted ^^' but that's only because physical touch is actually a strong love language for him, he tends to feel like he's been switched off or short circuiting when you rub your hand across his back or through his hair, he'll never finish those equations now! hehehe

(have you ever seen those tiktoks where someone is like asking my nerdy bf about *insert interest here* whilst wearing something revealing, or something along those lines and they get all flustered and trip over htier words? yeah, that's Ford! He'll make a good attempt at trying to be composed at first tho, but it's ultimately gonna fail!)

[heartsofminds]

i'm calling just to hear you scream - part ii.

“Free means “fuck.” She’s gonna fuck us, Sugar and you don’t even fucking care!” or it's your first day at The Bear (or is it The Beef still?), Richie is convinced you're a fed, and Carmen may or may not hate your guts.

A/N: well surprise, surprise! here's part two of i'm calling just to hear you scream. definitely more of a filler chapter before everything starts to implode and get more serious and downright grimey, but i hope you enjoy!

The shadows created by the awnings of the sandwiched businesses chill your bones while the Sun makes your backside sticky beneath your sweater and light spring jacket. Chicago is beautiful in March, but always full of surprises.

One day comes an icy snowstorm that adds to the gray slush collecting on the side of the street and the next a blissful sixty-one degrees that gaslights everyone into walking around with shorts on because it’s just “so warm.” 

You can’t revel in the tranquility for much longer. Not when you’re pretty sure you’re coming up on the address Natalie emailed you two nights ago. 628 West Wager Street sits prettily in between an old antique shop and a Chicago Cubs merchandise store that has definitely seen better days. Despite no sign hanging on the window and the glass completely shielded from outside eyes by brown butcher paper, it somehow looks like it belongs; the younger sibling of a once booming and vibrant street scene. 

Being outside of the door is a feeling that fills you with both anxiety and uncertainty. You know you’re in the right spot but you don’t feel like you are; not when you can’t hear any noise coming from any of the three storefronts that stand in front of you. You’re made even more uneasy when you see the five by eleven sheet of insulated foil wrap with capital letters written in Sharpie taped to the front window. 

The Beef is closed. Thank you for your patronage. The Bear is coming. 

The nerves start to hit you even harder. All Natalie had mentioned over the phone and through your frequent emails have been about needing help with a restaurant. The name of the aforementioned restaurant had never been disclosed and its location remained a mystery until this morning when you got an email with the unspoken directions that Apple Maps would omit. There’s nothing more embarrassing than doing a consult and not knowing any of the details. It’s even more humiliating when the feeling of being made a fool seems inevitable. 

Your arm refuses to move forward and yank the door open in case this is some sick prank. You half expect Becca to be hiding behind it with the “good ole boys” crew that is full of Senior and Junior partners at your law firm; their only purpose is to further humiliate and belittle you more than they already do on a day-to-day basis at the office. 

It’s a ridiculous thing to think that someone would care enough about you and your shame to do that, you know, but it’s the only way you can rationalize your brain warning you not to touch that door. Your eyes catch your reflection and suddenly you want the concrete sidewalk to swallow you whole. You take in how your navy blue pantsuit engulfs you and how your work bag seems to get heavier and heavier as it hangs solemnly at your side. 

You don’t belong here. 

The itch to turn around and run back to the train as fast as you could possibly manage crosses your mind, but the shattering of the quiet oasis around you interrupts that thought before it can materialize. 

“Do you ever shut the fuck up!” you hear a voice scream.

“Do you ever realize you don’t know fuckin’ everything!” another one screams back. 

The sound of a wall being hit accompanies the shouts as well as numerous other voices joining in on the cacophony the verbal altercation created. 

Call it a hunch (or just having enough common sense), but you definitely are in the right place and there are certainly people inside. The scary part of not knowing is over. The absolutely horrifying part of having to see where you fit in is pending. 

Your fingers grip the solid metal door handle and you rip it open. The resounding squeal it emits makes you want the floor to swallow you up whole. The chaos of screaming shouting and yelling start to pause before the sound of the sledgehammer hitting the wall a second time interrupts it and sends it into a full frenzy once again. 

The world seems to be moving in slow motion and your words are caught in your throat. You’ve never seen chaos like this before, but you’ve definitely felt the way you’re currently feeling every day for the past five years. Faces you don’t know, a nagging feeling of responsibility, a dire need to do the best job you possibly can and not fucking up and not pissing anyone off, and yet no idea where to even start. 

“If I already fuckin’ told you you were tearing the wrong wall down why the actual fuck would you do it again!” a strained scream bounces off the walls. 

You jolt at the echo. The current lack of infrastructure and an igloo of scaffolding tarp amplifies the sound by three thousand decibels. 

He can’t see your face because his back is turned toward you, but the temperament and the mop of curls tell you the obvious. Carmen. Natalie’s brother and shareholder that she had subtly warned you about in a half-joking, half-not tone when you had spoken on the phone the other day. 

“To prove a fucking point,” a lankier taller man scoffs back. Richie. Their cousin, not cousin (which you don’t really understand, but you chalk it up to a deduction that not everything is meant to make sense), and the absolute bane of Natalie and Carmen’s existence at times. She had also warned you about him on the phone. “Even if I’m wrong you never fail to always think you’re fucking right like a – like a fucking baby! You walk around here pissed the fuck off and fucking changing everything and makin’ it everyone else’s fucking problem –” 

Carmen lunges at him and two other men from the crowd almost pick him up from the floor to prevent him from tackling Richie. 

“Everyone else’s prob – You’re my fucking problem! You’re my fuckin’ problem and all you know how to do is fuck up and make everything fuckin’ worse!” 

“Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuckin’ pissy ass pamper cry baby.” 

Carmen tries his hardest to wrangle himself out of the hold he’s currently in. Sydney, a genius and the Lord’s prayer (according to Natalie, also), clumps herself near him as he remains twisting and turning like a toddler fighting a parent’s protective hold through a temper tantrum. 

“Chill, chill, chill. Stop. Just stop,” she gently coos. Her hand claps the shoulder of one of the men holding him up. You can see the gentle squeeze it gives to provide silent comfort, but you wonder if the softness in her tone is to deescalate the situation or to help regulate herself. 

He’s dragged out to what you can assume is the backdoor and it slams with a cadence that demands attention. A sharp thud can be heard five seconds later accompanied by various, “Yo, what the fuck, dude?”’s. 

He must have kicked the door. He definitely kicked the door. 

Your body continues to stay frozen in the bare entryway. The survival skills you’ve adapted kick into full effect. Don’t make a move. Don’t make a sound. Do not piss anyone else off. 

The aftermath of commotion and chatter fills the room and leaves no space for you. You have half the mind to put your hand back on the handle and dip out before anyone notices. You’ve been here all of three minutes and you feel as if it’s been a year. The shouting and the hurtful insults and the frequent use of the word “fuck” send a blush down your chest. You’re embarrassed because you’re starting to think that you can’t handle it. You’re not good enough. You’re not strong enough. 

What the fuck were you thinking even coming here? 

The push of your thigh against the door causes the rusted metal hinge to groan again. The sound is indiscernible from relief or protest; staying or leaving. Either option makes your skin crawl. The sudden redirection of eyes casts a dome of silence and everyone zones in on the thing that wasn’t there before: you. 

No one moves and for a second, you don’t think anyone blinks. The realization of someone infiltrating a rather robust and rage-filled argument occurring at nine in the morning sinks in before the vein of awkwardness begins to bleed. You know the logical thing to do is to introduce yourself; to force a plaster-like smile on your face and extend your hand and ask how everyone is doing. 

But you don’t. 

You can’t. 

Natalie can feel the alarm bells going off in her head when her eyes float to your figure. You look worried; a flash of pensiveness and subtle fear floods your facial expression and she starts to panic. Opening a restaurant is beyond humbling and asking Becca Cantor for her help was a last-ditch effort to contain the smallest bit of confidence she had left. Besides, she would rather roll over and die than you to walk out that door, tell Becca about how they’re sledgehammering walls with a gang of lunatics at the restaurant, and somehow get a call from Uncle Jimmy that turns into a stern talking to about how they’re just dicking around with his money and how it’s a waste of time. 

You absolutely, positively can not walk out that door. 

She’ll make sure of it. Even if it’s the last thing she ever fucking does. 

Her feet carry her faster than what her brain is aware of. Her eyes have to catch up with the scenery passing her in a blur as she walks up to you. Seeing her face calms you down in a way that is small but not unnoticed. She has kind eyes and a calm demeanor. This is the kind of client that gives you confidence. This is the kind of client that brings you joy. This is the kind of work you were made to do. 

“Oh, hey! You found it!” she cheers. Her hand brushes against your bicep in a welcome. 

The pool of spit inside your mouth gets swallowed as you curtly nod. “Yeah! Yeah, I thought Apple Maps led me astray but I was definitely in the right spot.” 

Pretending not to notice the curious gazes behind your interaction proves difficult, but it’s not something you’re not used to. Working in an office means there’s always someone in your business and you always feel like you’re under constant surveillance. 

At least this time, the threat of humiliation seems considerably low. The obvious danger of being chased out of here with a sledgehammer is considerably high though. 

“How are you doing?” you ask quietly. A conversation of niceties always makes things less awkward and gives you some leeway for at least learning who the owners are of the staring eyes. 

“Yo, who the fuck is this, Suge?” Richie asks, wiping his plaster-covered hands on his shirt. His face still harbors a flush that had yet to dissipate. He also has kind eyes but you know from the moments you witnessed prior that he can turn his kindness off and on instantaneously. 

Natalie rolls her eyes and huffs. The damage control that she’s doing is not going to plan. She had grown up around cursing and incredibly forward questioning and knows that not everyone else had, and from the disastrous commotion you stumbled into five minutes prior and the way your eyes show more of the whites than the irises, the crudeness needs to take a backseat. 

At least enough of one to ensure that you’re not about to turn around and bolt out of that shitty ass door that she had been bitching at Richie to oil for the past two months. 

She moves to stand next to you and puts her arm around your shoulder. Natalie knows that the second they find out that you’re an attorney all hell will break loose. Something about accusing you of being “fed” and coming to rip the “fundamentals of democracy” out from under them brews in her mind and she gags a little at the thought of having to diffuse yet another shit show before ten in the morning. 

The unwelcome taste of acid tinging the back of her tongue makes her take a mental note to ask her OB about being so nauseous. 

“This is our attorney,” she starts and begins to ignore the groans coming from the crowd in front of her, “She’s gonna help us with some...things.” 

Richie scoffs and throws his hands up. He wipes at his nose with his forearm and some of the plaster residue makes a home on the tip of it. 

“You brought a fuckin’ fed in here, Sugar?” His eyebrows rise to his hairline and it doesn’t take a genius to know how he doesn’t want you here at all. “I told you I had this under wraps. The fuck do we need a fed up our ass for if we’re just tearin’ down walls and shit.” 

You sigh and Natalie can feel the anxiety radiating off of you. She’s starting to absorb it, but the fight in her to make this right persists. 

“Well, first of all, the fed has a fucking name, you dick,” she snaps, “And you’ve been slinging beef sandwiches your entire adult life so the fuck do we need you for?”  

Richie exhales as the rest of the people around him start to snicker. 

“Damn, Papa. You need to pipe down,” whom you guess is Tina from some of the people who had been mentioned to you through the phone calls (and there’s so many goddamn people in here for it to be out of business and you’re sure you’ll need to start doing flashcards every night to remember who they are). 

“Thanks, T,” Natalie and Richie chirp in unison; their voices capturing the different emotions of annoyance and triumph differently. 

Some more harsh words and excited chatter served with a side of frustration occurs and you’re so checked out that you don’t even realize that no one has asked you directly what your name is. The animated voices and exaggerated body movement swell the room even more; pushing you outside and three blocks away so vividly through emotion that you have to check to make sure your feet haven’t moved. 

No one has asked who you are and which firm you came from. No one has asked how you are. And still, no one has asked you what your name is. 

They continue to talk and joke and yell and you start to feel yourself shrinking in. 

Smaller, smaller, smaller. 

Gone. 

You know that it’s not personal. It’s almost never personal, but the mind tends to conjure up ideas when it can’t make sense of the feelings it detects from the body. 

Maybe it had just gotten thrown to the wayside. Maybe they were making room for direct conversation with you to occur later when things weren’t so awkward. Maybe they don’t hate you and think you’re the worst and may actually like you.

But then maybe they don’t. 

Maybe they just don’t give a fuck. 

In your catatonic daze, you hear an offhanded remark about how you look like a high schooler who just waltzed in after a Model UN convention and that Natalie has no idea what the fuck she was doing. The laughter that follows highlights those who actively agree and the agitated huffs of frustration show those who silently concur. 

In any other circumstance, you probably would have joined them in laughter or returned a smart-alecky response or accompanied them in making fun of you, but this isn’t a different circumstance. You’re in a construction zone on a Saturday morning, overdressed with a pantsuit on, and have not a clue on how hospitality law works, and the facts leave a non-disputable conclusion. 

You’re the odd one out and you can’t get an invite to be even no matter how hard you try.

You truly don’t belong here. 

“Richie, have you ever considered that maybe we need to do it right this time?” Natalie asks, her tone dripping annoyance, “Her being here clearly doesn’t affect your ability to be an idiot, so you can go fuck yourself because she’s staying.” 

Richie narrows his eyes at her. His lanky limbs flail as he attempts to make his emotions seen without having to verbalize them. Natalie has had it with his stubbornness and she knows that she might be puking her guts out in about fifteen minutes. The great debate has to have an ending in sight soon. 

Besides, she knows that Richie’s apprehension toward the whole thing is because he’s resisting change and trying to get under Carmen’s skin. It doesn’t matter how great she knows her brother can make something. Richie will try and put a pin in it before it becomes something he no longer recognizes. 

Just like their dad. Somewhat like Mikey. Especially like Carmen (even though she knows he doesn’t recognize his own stubbornness yet). 

“Jesus, that’s fuckin’ horse shit if I’ve heard it,” he sneers, “And I happen to be very intelligent and very charming – and FYI – I also know how a fucking business works and all this “foo-foo,” “high dining”, microgreen shit –” 

She holds up her hand to him and rolls her eyes. She’s surprised she hasn’t been able to see the back of her skull yet. “It’s fine dining, but whatever.” 

“Fuck all the way off. Fine dining, microgreen shit is a dishonor to our roots and I will not stand for it.” 

Natalie’s hand smacks down on a metal rolling table with a rusty toolbox and a wrinkled pad of Post-it notes. The sounds of clanky metal snap everyone’s attention to her. Natalie was never mean. She was always sugary sweet and ooey gooey; trying to be in everyone’s good graces at all times and forever attempting to fix things before they had the potential to be broken. But she could also brush the sugar off and leave a bitter and tongue-curdling hurt if she got pushed to her limit. 

She’s not had a full night’s rest since she got asked (more like begged, but she’s not one for bragging) to be their project manager, she can’t bare to stomach anything nowadays without wrestling the urge to puke it back up, and the fucking pregnancy hormones are filling her with unexplained bouts of rage as of late. 

She is not one to be fucked with and Richie knows that. He just always wants to poke the bear. 

“Well that’s fuckin’ sad that your “roots” are tied to an Italian beef shop, but that doesn’t change my mind whatsoever,” she pushes past him with more force than she intended, guiding you along with her to wherever she had in mind, “You can bitch and moan and holler all you want but you’re not the one losing your fucking mind over fucking paperwork so whatever other unhelpful and extremely negative shit you have to say can get shoved up your ass and you can get fucked because I’m not putting up with it.” 

Richie is rendered speechless – a phenomenon that does not occur very often. 

She turns to you and gives you a friendly smile. Her hand rests softly above yours that are bawled into anxious fists. “Let’s go into the office so we can talk some more. Are you okay with that?” 

You’re still frozen in equal parts shock and fear; too scared to say no. 

“Umm. . .yeah. Yeah, we can go to the back,” you swallow and she brisks you away to what you assume is where all the paperwork is housed that they need help making sense of resides. 

You arrive outside of a closed wooden door and Natalie steps in front of it, her arms coming down to hug the hinges of it in a way that makes you slightly worried. “So I know that you’re not a hospitality attorney and I know that you’re doing this for free and you’re totally at liberty to say you want out the second you say the word,” she speaks softly. 

You know that she’s starting to panic. Your feelings and her feelings are starting to merge into one; two halves of the same whole – people pleasers. 

“But it’s. . .a lot and I don’t know even know where to start and this is legitimately driving me insane so –” 

Her anxiety starts to break your heart. The pang in your chest makes your decision for you. No matter how uncomfortable you are, you know you need to do the right thing out of the kindness of your own heart. 

“No, it’s fine!” you cut her off, “I’ll take a look and we’ll figure it out. Nothing you have here is too much. I can promise you that.” 

Ocean blue irises engulf you with sentiment and appreciation through their gaze. Natalie’s shoulders sag before her hand finds the gold doorknob. A deep breath adds to the noise of chatter and squeaks of the faulty fire alarm in the hallway. The oak door opens with a wheeze and a groan; stuck because of the swell its wood causes from the constant fluctuation of temperatures in Chicago. 

“Well,” she begins, “Here it is.” 

The mountains of cardboard boxes all labeled with acronyms and doodled with nonsense send the pit in your stomach down to your toes and through the center of the Earth. 

Holy fucking shit. 

Natalie notices your shock and starts to go back into “fix-it” mode. She hasn’t eaten at all today, but she figures that the emotions bubbling up and down at a fixed and constant rate are what fill her insides and are making her nauseous. Bile starts to make its way up her throat but she forces it back down. 

She’ll be damned if this goes even more sour than how she knows it has. 

“It’s a lot and it’s more sorting things and making them make sense than doing actual work? Like you’re gonna be doing work but it’s not rocket science. . . Not that being an attorney isn’t hard! My husband is one and I. . .need to shut up now,” she word vomits. Despite the apparent fact that she’s panicking, the sound of her voice is soothing and the gentle hand she places on the junction between the base of your neck and your shoulder does wonders to ground you. “And there’s no rush to have all of it done. It’s a work at your own pace kinda thing?” 

You both know that she’s fibbing about the last part. 

The frantic text at 11 PM last week and the hour-long phone call debriefs you had yesterday and three days before say otherwise. This is her compromising and making her needs smaller. This is her being like you and you being like her; being like each other. Digging yourself into holes to help others no matter the effort – no matter the pain. 

“No, I’m doing this because I want to. Just let me know exactly what you need and we can get to it as soon as possible.” 

You know that you must have said the golden word because as soon as the statement leaves your mouth, Natalie whips out her phone and starts reading off a list she had compiled of all things that have some link to the legal world. 

Contracts. Permits. Tax revenue sheets. Paystubs. Workers Compensation. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission. City Ordinances. Chicago royally fucking anyone who dares to open a business, really. 

The sad part is that this should scare you. This should make you want to run out of here and never look back and purposely take the long way to get somewhere if you knew where you were headed would cross paths with the restaurant. 

But you don’t do any of that, and the buzz of finally doing something that you know is helping people overpowers the migraine of stress you can feel looming over you the second you agree to help them out. 

“You’re amazing,” she says, eyes twinkling with admiration. 

Your cheeks turn a shade of baby pink that you hope she can’t see. You’ve never taken well to flattery. 

Richie’s knuckles give a soft knock on the door and it opens before either of you can think to welcome another presence. His gaze finds both of you fist-deep into the first box labeled “Cocksuckers: For IRS - 1987.” You already know that he’s not related to the Berzattos by blood, but the beautiful blue eyes make you question that fact. He gives a sheepish smile almost to apologize for his interruption and you think he’s about to apologize before he opens his mouth and says, “Suge, your dashing baby brother is bout to blow a fuse because the fed is here.” 

Natalie stops what she’s doing. Her hands come to rest on the flimsy cardboard box and she throws her head back to eye the ceiling. If she can count the row of six vertically, maybe she can slow her breathing and calm herself down enough to spare Carmy the chewing out of a lifetime. 

One. 

“Sugar!” 

Two. 

“Get the fuck off me!” 

Three. 

“I said get the fuck off me! I need to see my fuckin’ sister!” 

Four. 

“Sugar!” 

Five. 

“Leave me the fuck alone!” 

Six. 

“Natalie!” 

Her brother appears in front of her disheveled and angry. Even though she’s only five years older than he is, she always sees him as the little baby she used to put in her strollers and push around for years until he got too big and too “grown” to think playing with his older sister was cool. Years spent with him also meant years studying him; knowing his ticks down to the smallest one and learning how he expresses every emotion. 

It was the only way she survived living in that house until she was eighteen. 

Dealing with an angry Carmen is nothing in comparison to dealing with an angry Michael or even attempting to console a slightly agitated mother. 

Besides, Carmy’s anger, while often misguided and very explosive, was never unexpected. He always has a tell and there’s always a few seconds before he completely comes unglued. Adult temper tantrums are shit shows, and quite frankly she’s fed up with having to diffuse one of his every couple of hours as of late. 

Her face starts to fall when she sees Carmen’s left eye begins to create that deep crinkle it does when he gets pissed. He starts to wrinkle his nose and she knows that he’s about to start screaming. 

Richie lets out a whistle before pushing Carmen’s head in a playful yet agitated manner. Before his hand can be swatted at, he jumps out of the way and joins in on a distant conversation about his daughter’s last dance recital. 

He has a smug grin on his face that Carmen wants nothing more than to slap off him. He knew that touching him would provoke him even more.  

Richie always has to poke the bear. 

Always. 

Carmen tries to contain his anger the best he can. Even though he’s totally against the idea of having you in the building, he knows there’s jackshit he can do about it now. Sydney said yes, Natalie sought you out, and Uncle Jimmy thought the idea was brilliant. The vote was three against one and he knows that all he can do is go fuck himself. So much for everyone promising not to make decisions about the restaurant without his okay. 

It’s not like his credit will be the one that’s fucked if this place turns to shit. 

His arm stretches to hold the side of the door’s hinge and supports his body weight as he leans to the right. “You hired a fucking attorney and didn’t tell me?” he snaps. His face pinches in a way that brings his nose, eyes, and mouth closer together; a face their mom used to make before she came totally unglued. 

You have your back turned toward the door he’s looming in. Something about being targeted makes you want to be blind to it; to shut your eyes as tightly as you can and will it away. You know that the way he’s acting has everything to do with him and nothing to do with you, but you can’t help it. When you feel out of place, every action to push you further out feels personal. 

“She’s doing it for free,” Natalie scoffs, putting a lid back on one of the boxes and crossing her arms over her chest. She would offer up more information, but what would be the use if Carmy is as wound up as he is? 

“Free means “fuck.” She’s gonna fuck us, Sugar, and you don’t even fucking care!” he screeches, seemingly uncaring that you’re right in front of him and that he’s biting his sister’s head off as if it’s nothing. 

You start to pull files out of the boxes faster than you were before. The distraction is needed because you know that if you listen too intently to what else is being said, you’ll start internalizing it later. 

Nothing with you. Everything with him. Nothing with you. Everything with him. 

“No. She is not gonna fuck us,” she pushes a finger into his chest and her nostrils flaring, “You’re gonna fuck us because you’re being so stubborn and stupid and can’t have a goddamn conversation like an adult.” 

His chest pushes deeper into his sister’s finger. “You calling me a baby? You calling me a fucking baby?” 

Carmen usually isn’t one to pick a fight in his everyday life, but once he gets started he refuses to back down. The rational part of his brain knows that he’s going overboard but he can’t help himself. The rage inside has nowhere to go and this whole thing is really pissing him off. He’s so fucking sick of everyone acting like he’s too immature and irresponsible to handle things.

Natalie’s finger comes out to become a full palm. “Well then stop the yelling. Stop the pissy pamper attitude. Stop wasting our fucking time and just admit that you’re way over your fucking head and don’t know everything.” 

Carmen balls his hands into fists and licks his lips to prevent him from saying something really fucking mean. He knows that Natalie is just trying to help but she always is, and it fucking sucks when she always saves the day even when he doesn’t want her to. The restaurant was supposed to be theirs; supposed to be all him and Mikey and everyone who made them into the people they are. It was never supposed to be his. It was never supposed to be his when he has not a goddamn clue what he’s doing and Natalie driving herself borderline insane trying to proactively fix everything before it turns to shit. 

He doesn’t know what to say because she’s right. Sugar is always right and Carmen is always wrong and he wishes Michael was here to balance them out; to add a third option so it wasn’t so split. 

But he’s not here. He won’t be here. He never really was here. 

“Fuck!” he yells at the top of his lungs. 

“Fuck!” Natalie shouts back. 

Argument over. 

His shoes slide on the floor with ease and he tries to steady his breathing. His arms let go of the door frame and his head hangs with the dissatisfaction of still housing a boulder of anger. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he whispers, voice growing smaller as he walks away. A loud clash of hollowed metal is heard shortly after. “Fuck!” 

“Punching the lockers doesn’t get rid of the fact you’re a little bitch, Cousin.” 

Richie has to poke the bear. 

Always.

[rainba]

Guilt and Jealousy ღ

eee.. Sorry, this is messy.. I randomly wanted to write another fic. ^^;;;;;; Not really proofread..

Basically: Ace suddenly discovers that you're dating someone else without telling him, and he can't stand the idea of that. Can't think straight.

CWs: Noncon, possessive/toxic behaviors, mentions of blood and biting

MDNI. 18+

Reader is GN!

Jealousy is a poison that can destroy anyone infected by it. The heat of a moment can makes a person’s mind melt or burn to ashes. A love too intense can make almost any person betray their morals.

Ace never wanted to hurt you.

Ace never wanted to make you cry.

But you were a flame, and he was an explosive. You lingered too close to the fuse that’s tied to him, and now you have to bear witness to the side of him he never wanted you to see.

Ace couldn’t understand how things ended up this way. Mere hours ago, you were jumping in the crowd, smiling for him, cheering him on and smiling so warmly. Mere hours ago, you were drinking and laughing and proudly wearing merchandise with his band’s logo printed on the front. But now…

Now…

“Please, let me go! I– I’m sorry!”

“Please, d-don’t hurt me! Ace, please!”

Your brand-new shirt was cast aside and ripped to shreds.

Your bright smile was replaced by a look of sheer terror paired with an onslaught of tears. What had you done to drag Ace down to this level…?

You kissed another man in front of him.

Remembering the way you kissed that other man made Ace’s mind spiral into a dark, frenzied mess. You and that other person– you and that purple-eyed freak in the crowd… Since when were the two of you dating? 

Why didn’t Ace know beforehand? 

How could you betray him like this…? Ace thought that you loved him. You always told him that you loved him.

How could you?

How could you hurt him like this?

You must’ve kept your relationship a secret from Ace. You must’ve kept it extremely well-hidden. But… Why?

Why?

“I- I’m sorry…!”

Ace could apologize all he wants, but he couldn’t make his body stop. His shaking hands were desperately tearing away at what little clothing you still had on. His watering eyes refused to stray away from yours. 

God, he felt guilty, but he was completely devoid of self-control.

The only way to get him to stop was for you to make him.

…But you couldn’t.

Ace apologized once more as his jaw opened wide, revealing his dangerous fangs. The sharp ends were pointed directly at your skin, ready to sink themselves into your flesh at any second. All you could do was brace for impact.

And right before he bit down, he softly mumbled the words, “I love you.”

By sinking his fangs deep into your shoulder, escape was no longer an option.

Everything was happening fast- way too fast. Ace refused to remove his teeth as he began to undo his pants, removing the pins from the heavy fabric as he also pushed down his boxers. His cock was already hard; precum leaking from the tip.

Images of you and that other man kept racing through Ace’s mind. You looked so happy… You looked so in love…

It should’ve been him.

Ace wishes it was him.

If you had just loved Ace from the start, none of this would’ve happened.

With his fangs still buried deep inside of your shoulder, Ace pried open your legs, trying his best to ignore the way you scream and beg for him to stop.

Ace needs this. 

He needs you more than anything.

His mind races: if he claims you here and now, there’s no chance of you leaving him for someone else. If he fucks you senseless and possesses you fully, you’ll never wish to leave his side. You’ll be his forever.

Does it make sense? No, not in the slightest. Is Ace aware that all he’s doing is traumatizing you and permanently ruining his relationship with you? Absolutely. But the irrational, animalistic side of his mind is taking control, and he can’t stop himself from giving in to his disgusting, depraved desires. 

He can’t let anyone else have you.

Ace positions his cock at your entrance, rubbing his tip against it lightly. His breathing is incredibly heavy; he’s partially afraid that he’ll cum within the first few pumps.

“N-no, please, don’t… Ace, you’re better than this! Don’t do this!”

Your words pierce him directly in his aching heart, and for a second, he considers listening to your pleas.

But it’s too late now. He’s gone too far.

With guilt written all over his face, he looks up at you with tears in his blue eyes. He can’t stand to hear your begging anymore– so he lifts his left hand and presses it firmly against your mouth. Silencing you.

And with nothing more left to lose, he thrusts himself deep inside of you, your walls instantly tightening around his length. Ace sweetly moans as his fangs sink deeper into you.

Ace tries to fuck you slowly at first, wanting things to be more ‘sensual’, but he quickly loses self-control in that aspect as well. His hips begin to move fast and erratically, sweat trickling down his pale skin as he pushes himself as deep inside of you as possible.

Inside of his messy mind, there's a part of him that feels warm and happy- excited at how he has finally become 'one' with you.

He moans and whimpers embarrassingly loud- his right hand grips one of your thighs and pries your legs open wider. He enjoys this for a while, but the position quickly becomes old- Ace is desperate to fuck you in so many ways.

Without a warning, he suddenly retracts his fangs from your shoulder, pain surging throughout your entire body as he laps up the blood that drips from your wound.

It tastes… Strange in his mouth. Your blood doesn’t taste like anything else he’s tried before. But your blood isn’t what he’s after– no, what he wants is your soft lips.

Ace removes his left hand from your face, but before you can utter even a single word, he forces his lips onto yours. You taste your own blood against your will as he shoves his tongue deep inside your mouth.

It’s strange- Ace seems so giddy as he explores your mouth. Every inch, every crevice- he goes over it with his tongue. His strong hands move down to your legs as he moves them as far up as he possibly can, firmly sandwiching you between himself and the surface beneath you. He fucks you even faster, thrusts his cock even deeper, and whimpers your name relentlessly.

It feels... Wrong being used by Ace like this. You can't help but feel dirty.

Yes- you cared for him deeply- but you're in love with someone else now.

Hell, you never thought it was even possible for Ace to be in love with you… He always seemed so busy with his band, seemed so busy living out his dreams…

You had a crush on him a long time ago, you used to always say that you love him, but all of those feelings had been cast aside.

And now, here you are… Being fucked by him against your will.

It made you want to scream. It made you want to cry. The feelings inside of your heart are conflicting– and this stinging pain is like nothing else you’ve experienced before.

Bitter tears keep streaming down your cheeks, but Ace doesn’t seem to notice them.

Deep down, there’s a small part of him that believes you secretly want this. A small part of him that believes you wanted him to chase you and forcefully claim you like this.

...Perhaps it’s his mind trying to cope with the fact that what he’s doing is morally reprehensible.

Ace loathes the idea of being a bad person.

He thrusts his cock deeper into you as he chases his high. He’s close- so close- and his body is begging for a release. Ace makes sure to grind against your most sensitive spots; he’s determined to make you cum as well.

His cock twitches as your walls tighten around him, involuntarily drawing him closer to his peak. Ace wrap his arms around your body as he pulls you into a warm embrace, hugging you gently as fucks you needily.

His breath hitches. He gasps loudly.

“C-cum… Cumming… I’m- I’m so- I’m sorry!”

It’s far too late to go back now. When he has you trapped in the cage of his arms like this, the only thing he can do is cum deep inside of you, his eyes rolling into the back of his head while he pushes you down onto his cock. It feels so good- it's heaven on earth.

His orgasm hits like a white-hot explosion.

And as he relishes in his high, he lowers his hand and rubs your most sensitive areas, forcing you to climax as well.

Ace’s breathing is heavy. His head lowers in both shame and remorse.

But when he looks down, he can’t help but admire the way his cum is spilling out of you. He regrets everything that has happened on this night- he regrets ever hurting you in any way, shape or form. He'll have to beg for forgiveness. But at the same time…

He can’t help but feel like he didn’t have a choice.

Now you’re his. You belong to him.

And that makes him happy.

If that other man dares to come near you again, Ace might do another thing that he’ll sincerely regret.

[janeyseymour]

Fire in My Heart (Repost due to mistake)

Anon asked for a mel x firefighter!reader, and I posted, but didn't realize I left out the end of it, so... repost!

Summary: There's an incident at Abbott, and you and your crew come to the rescue.

WC: ~3.4k

The two of you always joke about how ridiculous it is that you actually managed to find each other. Growing up, you had almost always had a crush on your teachers- particularly the ones with red hair. And for Melissa, she was absolutely fascinated with anything that had to do with firefighting as a little girl- it felt like it was in her blood to do something that had to do with fighting fire. 

You nudge her. So maybe she wasn’t doing something that had to do with fighting fire... but she was doing someone who fought fires for a living. She teases you right back.

“I’m sorry Ms. ‘I had a crush on all of my female teachers’.”

“Correction: I had a crush on most of my female teachers,” you tell her. Then you playfully shudder. “No one could’ve had a crush on Ms. Adams.”

“Okay, sorry,” Melissa rolls her eyes as she continues to pack your meals for your shift at the station. “I’m sorry Ms. ‘I had a crush on most of my female teachers.”

You shrug. “Eh, it worked in my favor. I got the hottest redheaded second grade teacher t’go out with me,” you grin as you wrap your arms around her waist. 

“Hell yeah it did,” she chuckles as she turns over in your arms to face you. “You got yourself a Philly eleven, and I got myself a Philly twelve. We’re the hottest couple in this city.”

You pat her backside as you realize you have to let her go. “Alright, babe. I’ll be home later tonight. Don’t start any Schemmenti style fires now?”

“I can’t make any promises, an’ you know that,” your girlfriend grumbles. “I swear, if Janine says one more thing about the stupid book fair, I’ll-”

“You’ll call your girlfriend and rant to her instead of bludgeoning the poor woman with a

copy of Peter Rabbit or lighting something on fire,” you tell her seriously. “Jesus, how did I end up dating someone from an arsonist family?”

“And that worked out in my favor,” Melissa wears a smirk on her face. “We Schemmenti’s can start the fires, but no one expects the chief’s family to be the ones starting them.”

“Please tell me that isn’t why you’re dating me,” you roll your eyes as she hands you your lunch bag.

“It’s not,” she promises you before adding on. “But it don’t hurt.”

You chuckle before picking up the rest of your bags. “Don’t start any fires that make my department have to come out to rescue you today.”

“That’s never happened,” Melissa retorts.

“Don’t let today be the first!” you call as you reach for the door. “I’ll see you later tonight, I love you!”

You can’t believe you have to go respond to a call from Abbott Elementary. As you’re driving, you have half a mind to call your girlfriend. She answers on the first ring.

“Melissa Ann Schemmenti, this fire that I’m responding to better not be because of-”

“It wasn’t me,” the second grade teacher tells you. She pulls away from the phone just slightly to scold a student for getting out of line. “Maya, this is a real fire! This is not a drill! Stop doing the Gritty!”

“Is everyone out of the building?” you grit out as you drive just the slightest bit faster.

The teacher looks around at all of the teachers holding up green pieces of paper. “Yes. And when you get here, don’t even bother looking for-” your phone clicks off. You assume a coworker of hers had come up to her, and no one knew that the two of you were dating.

As you pull up to the building, it’s clear that whatever set the alarm off isn’t too big of a deal. Still, you and your crew go in to survey the area. You know Melissa’s room number, and you immediately head in that direction, barking out orders to your coworkers as you go.

Melissa’s room looks perfect. It’s so... her. It’s filled with various signed sports gear and merchandise, but it also is flooded with pictures and drawings from the kids, and you can clearly see the bulletin board that displays different school projects they’ve completed. You nearly swoon.

You do a quick lap as you continue to make sure she didn’t somehow secretly start this fire. You stop at her desk when you see just the smallest corner of something sticking out from underneath her mousepad. You have to make sure it’s not any sort of evidence, so you lift her mousepad. Underneath, there’s a picture of the two of you. You do swoon at this. Even though neither of you are out, she still has a reminder of the two of you with her at all times.

“Oh, Mel,” you whisper, a smile appearing on your face. You quickly pull yourself together and continue on. You don’t see anything else that would make anybody suspicious of the Italian teacher, so you continue to the next rooms.

Janine’s room is quite the opposite of Melissa’s. You can’t explain why because she too has some memorabilia from sporting events in Philly, but-

“Hey, Y/N,” one of your men comes down the hall holding up a burnt shawl and a candle. “It looks like we found the culprit of this mess. Just a small little thing really in the teacher’s lounge.”

You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You were fairly certain your girlfriend hadn’t caused the fire... but now it was confirmed that you wouldn’t have to be bailing her out of jail today.

With a nod, you exit the building and tell everybody it’s safe to go back inside. Melissa is all grins when she sees you, but you remain professional. And she’s able to play it off that she’s beyond excited that they brought a tractor drawn aerial. 

She makes her way over to you. “Can I bring the kids out to look at the-”

You roll your eyes and nod. “But I can only stall for so long before the boys will start to catch on.”

Your girlfriend practically sprints away, giggling with glee, as she goes inside to retrieve her kiddos. 

When she brings out her students, you have to pretend like you’re annoyed that she’s wasting your time. 

“Ma’am,” you say. “We really do have to get-”

“Ain’t you the one who’s doin’ the fire safety meeting for the teachers later today anyway?” she challenges you, fully knowing you are.

You sigh. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Then you can stick around.” You don’t miss the wink and the licking of her lips. She finds you irresistible in your uniform.

While the kids are at lunch and recess, you have to hold the fire safety meeting. And Melissa is as brash as ever. You unfortunately have to ban open fires, and this sets off Barbara.

As Melissa runs out of the room, she gives you a look that asks for silent forgiveness, and you nod. You know she has to go check up on her best friend, and you need to continue your meeting.

After Barbara admits that she’s been dealing with Gerald’s health scare and the candle was 100% an accident, Melissa feels terrible. But she knows how she might be able to turn Barb’s mood around.

“I think I might have a roundabout way of getting you to be able to keep lighting your candles,” the redhead smirks.

“What do you- you heard the chief: no more open flames.”

“I can call in a favor,” Melissa nudges her. “I’m sure the chief can do something special for her girlfriend.”

The kindergarten teacher’s eyes go wide. “For her- her girl- Melissa Ann Schemmenti, how long have you kept this from me?!”

“I wasn’t keepin’ nothin’ from you,” your girlfriend laughs. “Ya never asked, so I never had to tell.”

“Oh, girl,” Barb howls. “You have some nerve, not telling me. I’m gonna need more details.”

“Maybe later,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “None of youse know, and none of her department knows we’ve been dating for the last three years and living together for the last year and a half.”

The kindergarten teacher looks at her best friend incredulously. “I’ve been to your house!”

“She’s always on shift, and we don’t have many printed pictures together; just digital copies,” the redhead shrugs. “Now c’mon. I have to convince my girlfriend to let my best friend continue to have candles. And then I gotta get my kids back outside to play on the truck.”

“Haven’t they been playing on the truck all day?”

“No,” she admits with a laugh. “That was my time. Now it’s theirs while I flirt with my girlfriend.”

“Miss fire chief?” Melissa asks all too innocently as the kids explore and play on your truck.

“Yes ma’am?” you reply, committed to your work persona of badass fire chief.

She glances around. Your coworkers are distracted with the kids, so she pulls herself slightly closer to you. “You think I can call in a favor?”

“And that would be?”

“Let Barb light her candles in exchange for her not killing me for not telling her about you?” Melissa asks hopefully. 

You hazard a glance at her. “Melissa.”

“I also need your help putting out my fire,” she says coyly as she daringly grabs your thigh. “Seeing you in uniform is... wow, babe.” She knows you’ll say yes now.

“Fine,” you groan. “But if this happens again, it’s on you. You hear me?”

“Yes, chief,” the teacher grins and mock salutes you. She stands next to you for a few more minutes before she has to call her kids back into the building for dismissal.

“Alright my little eagles, everybody say thank you to the firefighters!” Melissa grins. Her students do as she asks before they all head back in. She mouths a ‘thank you, love you’ to you while everyone else is preoccupied.

As you and your coworkers are heading back to the station, you hear one of them mention that ‘that redheaded teacher was a smokeshow’. You grip the wheel just a bit tighter. You almost say something right there, but you let them go. They’re right. Your girlfriend is a smokeshow, and she sure as hell knows it. They only continue making comments about her though, and suddenly you aren’t so happy.

One of the boys starts making rather vulgar comments, and-

“Oi,” you call from the front. “Will y’quit havin’ fantasies about my girlfriend?”

All of their eyes snap to you. “W-what, chief?”

“Stop thinking about my girlfriend like that,” you tell them again. “Or we’s gonna have a bigger problem than some little candle fire.”

“She’s your girlfriend?”

“Yeah, she is,” you huff. “Melissa. She’s a Schemmenti, and she’s mine. So any thoughts you have or had about her, clear your brains out, or I’ll have your asses. Are we clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” they all mutter, heads down. Some of their cheeks are red.

“Wait a minute,” one of the younger firemen catches on. “Is she the one who made the ziti you brought to our Christmas party last year?” You nod. “Do you think she could make it again? That shit was off the charts. But, uh... only if she’s got time. Don’t wanna pressure her.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” you laugh. “She’s been pretty busy lately, teaching two grades. But maybe I can convince her to bring a couple trays of food down for all youse.”

Unbeknownst to you, Melissa finds herself in the same situation as you while everyone is gathering their things to leave.

“That woman was... wow,” a few of the other teachers say, and Melissa hears. She takes a deep breath. They’re allowed to say you’re pretty- they don’t know you two are dating. They start to take it to the next degree, and the redhead’s face is almost as red as her hair. Still, she tries not to overreact. She promised you she wouldn’t be the reason Abbott burnt to the ground. And then one of the fifth grade teachers says something so filthy about you that-

“Barb! Lemme go!” Melissa tries to fight her way out of her best friend’s arms, and Gregory and Ava are also quick to hold your girlfriend back. “He’s gotta know he doesn’t got any reason to talk about a woman like that! Much less, my woman!”

She doesn’t even realize what she’s said- she has no idea that she’s admitted to dating you. But everyone else heard her. They all freeze, all except Barb. Barb continues to try to hold Melissa back.

“Woah!” the fifth grade teacher surrenders. He puts his hands up, terrified of the redhead right now. “She’s your girlfriend?”

“She is, and you don’t get to think about her that way, much less speak about her like that,” Melissa grits out. “You even think about her again, and I swear to God, my foot will be so far up your-”

“Melissa!” the kindergarten teacher scolds.

She fixes her shirt as she huffs and pulls away. She storms out of the room, only to be followed by her usual crew.

“So... you’re dating the firechief?” Gregory asks as they exit the building. At Melissa’s nod, he says quietly, “That’s pretty cool. No wonder you know so much about the trucks.”

“Nah, I knew all that before I met Y/N. She just happened to be a firefighter when we met. Been promoted since, obviously.”

“That’s really nice, Melissa!” Janine grins. “So, when do we get to meet her?”

“Y’already met her,” the second grade teacher rolls her eyes and starts to head for her car.

“No, but like... really meet her?”

“We’re busy that day,” Melissa tells Janine. 

“I- I didn’t even give you a day,” the younger teacher looks hurt. 

“Regardless,” the redhead sighs. “She’s pretty busy. I’ll talk to her tonight when she gets home and see what we can-”

“You two live together?!” Jacob exclaims. 

“Have been,” your girlfriend snorts. “It ain’t news.”

“This is news to us though, Melissa!” Barbara chides her friend. “Even I didn’t know about Y/N! You pulled a Jacob on us!”

“Like I told you before, Barb, youse never asked. I’ll talk to her tonight and see if there’s a day we can have you all over, okay? Ya happy?”

“Delighted,” the kindergarten teacher smiles. “Alright, I have to get home to Gerald, but I will see all of you tomorrow.”

The rest of your day is rather uneventful, and the end of your shift couldn’t come soon enough. You know Melissa was all worked up seeing you in your uniform and having to be a hardass- something entirely different from what she sees at home. 

“Alright boys, I’m heading out for the day,” you tell your subordinates. “Don’t do anything where I would need to be called back in.”

As you’re just about to close the door, one of the men calls your name out. “Don’t forget to ask your woman if she’ll make us her ziti.”

When you walk into your house, Melissa is curled up on the couch, a glass of wine in hand. Her glasses are on the tip of her nose as she grades some of their writing.

“Hey, babe,” you smile as you make your way over, leaning down to kiss her. She tastes like wine, and it makes your head spin.

“Hey, yourself,” she says as her attention is back on her papers. Although she has changed her position so you can sit with her. “Your food is in the microwave, and your glass of wine is in the fridge.”

“Thanks,” you grin tiredly as you head to grab your food and drink. By the time you settle on the couch with Melissa, she’s already put her papers away.

“You didn’t have to put those away,” you tell her as you dig in. Funnily enough, you’re eating ziti tonight.

“I can grade during my prep tomorrow,” the teacher waves you off. “I just wanna look at you right now. Talk to you.”

Your heart practically melts. “Well, I pretty much know how your day went,” you tease her. “Harassed the firefighters all day to play on their truck. Anything interesting happen after I left? Is Barb okay?”

“Barb is fine,” Melissa assures you. She almost tells you that she told her coworkers about the two of you. But she doesn’t. “Did anything else happen after you left today?”

“Nothin that I had to go out for,” you tell her. “Although, the boys and I did have a pretty serious chat today.”

“Oh?” You can see her interest is piqued. “About new equipment?”

“About how they needed to stop thirsting over my girlfriend,” you say smugly. 

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Oh?” she breaks out into a grin. “I still got it.”

“You do,” you chuckle quietly as you lean into her. “And after I made it very clear that you were mine, and I’d have their asses if they made another vulgar comment about you... Jake, one of the newer kids, very sweetly asked if you could consider making another tray of ziti for them. I guess that reminded them all how much they loved your ziti because Vince mentioned it again on my way out.”

“Just take some of the leftovers in with you tomorrow,” your girlfriend laughs. “I’ll make another tray over the weekend too.”

“They’re all gonna be trying to steal you from me even more now,” you playfully pout. 

“‘N I’ll tell ‘em I only got eyes for my girl,” Melissa says sweetly as she presses a kiss to your temple. “For the fire chief. That I don’t go for the regular firefighters.”

“Should I remind you we started dating when I was just a ‘regular firefighter’?”

“But now you’re a firechief, and I won’t settle for less,” she grins. Then she gets the courage to tell you what she wanted to tell you earlier. “I guess we had a pretty similar conversation with our coworkers today about each other.”

You furrow your brows.

“One of the fifth grade teachers saw you today and was saying the filthiest things about what he would do to you if he could, and I almost lit his car on fire,” Melissa tells you.

“I told you I don’t want you committing arson for me,” you tease her. 

“Barb held me back, and I told the guy, I says, ‘you don’t get to think about her that way, much less speak about her like that,’ and then I told him if he did, my foot would be so far up his-” the redhead shakes her head. “That’s besides the point.”

You roll your eyes fondly. Of course she threatened the guy. “So everyone knows now.”

“Janine is already asking when they get to meet you,” Melissa sighs dramatically. “I told them we would find a day, but I also told her we’re always busy, so there’s really no pressure, hon.”

“I think it might be interesting to finally meet all of these people I’ve heard so much about,” you tell her. “We could have them over for a barbecue on Saturday?”

“That’s so soon though,” she grumbles. “And I just told you I would make a tray of ziti this weekend for your guys.”

“I think it would be nice, babe,” you try to convince her. “You can make the ziti Sunday, and- hopefully- it’s too last minute for some of them, so you’ll just end up with me and Barb anyway.”

“Okay, okay,” she says after a few beats. “I’ll tell ‘em tomorrow at lunch.”

Of course, they all show up to your house on Saturday. Of course they do. They’re thrilled to meet the woman who finally took Melissa Schemmenti off the market. 

Next

[httpiastri]

paul aron x popstar!reader

a/n: told you i'd stay up until i had written something :) not my best work but i hope you enjoy anyway. take care, my loves <3

if someone had told you before this weekend that you were going to watch paul absolutely dominate, you would've felt your heart race at the thought, but never actually believed that it could happen. and yet, here you are.

after a bunch of busy weeks on tour, you finally got a break – just in time for the last two rounds of the formula two championship. this weekend was already, even before paul's pole, bound to be great. with the release of his merchandise on friday and his alpine announcement on saturday, and with you there to cheer him on, he had several things to look forward to. to have qualifying and the feature race turn out so well was just another addition to an already perfect weekend.

the moment his silver car crosses the finish line right behind gabriel bortoleto to claim his first-ever win in the series, the tears are already prickling in the corners of your eyes. the hitech garage erupts in cheers, and you get pulled into a whirlwind of hugs by everyone around – before turning to anna, unable to hold back the tears anymore. in the arms of paul's sister, whom you've come to grow so close to, you feel yourself breaking down, and she does the exact same. when pulling away, she helps wipe away your tears to not ruin your makeup, and you return the favor, both in a giggling haze of happiness and relief and pride. so much pride for the young man currently making his way into parc ferme.

as you all hurry along, she hastily asks you if you're sure you want to come with, knowing you usually want to stay behind in the shadows at these moments, but you just shake your head. "i wouldn't miss it for anything."

paul stands on his car, celebrates with his arm in the air, before jumping down and throwing himself into the arms of his team. he hugs them, shakes hands with zak brown, and embraces his parents, before finally diverting his attention to you.

you blink back your tears as your eyes meet his through the slit in his helmet, and you can practically feel his smile radiating from his body when his arms wrap around you. with your arms draped over his shoulders, you can't help but laugh at the surreality of it; it's just so hard to believe that you've been lucky enough to end up with someone this perfect.

your boyfriend lifts you up in the air, your giggles echoing in his ears and luring out a laugh of his own, and squeezes you tighter than ever before. once he sets you down, he brushes a glove-clad hand down the side of your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb for a moment with a promise to be back in your arms after the podium.

a twinge of disappointment spreads through your stomach, but you understand; he's got a lot of obligations to tend to, and you would never stand in the way of that. you turn around when he pulls off his helmet to pose with the first-place board, facing his family again as they chat off about the plans to celebrate later tonight.

but just as you think it's time to go towards the podium, a hand lands on your shoulder. you spin in surprise, eyebrows already raised when you find paul standing there, rosy cheeks and messy curls on full display. "i forgot something," he mumbles, and his calloused palms cup your face before you can even process his words. and before you can react, he's kissing you.

the shuttering of cameras drowns out all other sounds for a moment – the fans will definitely freak out – but then the whole world fades away. his lips are slightly chapped, though you definitely don't mind, considering how gentle he is with it. your hand instinctively reaches up to rest on his chest, feeling his heart racing beneath his suit. you're not sure who started, but eventually you're both grinning into the kiss, unable to hold back the overwhelming joy of the moment.

"thank you," he whispers as he pulls away, eyes gazing right into yours. "for being here this weekend." he presses another kiss to your lips, letting out a soft sigh. "my lucky charm."

yourusername just posted!

yourusername hard launch: f2 race winner edition. love you tons 💙

paularon_ ❤️

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[hellfire--cult]

Eddie Munson x Cosplayer!Fem!Reader

18+ MDNI sexual tension and possible smutty filthy part 2 for this

I just needed to show my nerdyness with all of you and I can assure you that Eddie would get fixated with a cosplayer, and much more if she dresses of the stuff he likes.

I will link pictures of the stuff I mention that you people might not know of, but I put descriptive information to the outfits and cosplays.

Plot: Eddie hates conventions, never went to one even, but a certain cosplayer changes his idea of it.

remember to reblog pls thank u.

Cosplay for me

Eddie Munson was never a person to go to conventions.

He never went to one before, in his life. He was never interested in them, but it was because he believed it was too crowded and he was told many times that there is always a putrid smell from sweat. Of course, there’s also memes about it online, so he always thought conventions were dirty, and he decided to never go to one.

That is until Mike Wheeler falls sick and Dustin has an extra ticket for Indiana Comic-Con. Dustin knew there was absolutely no chance with Steve, and Mike was the only one of the bunch that had his license. Eddie always cursed at Dustin for not having a driving license at the ripe age of 18, but the younger man always says he doesn’t really like the idea of driving. 

So he makes everyone chaperone him around.

That’s why Eddie was now in line to go into the building with a very excited Dustin Henderson next to him.

“There’s so much DnD stuff in here Eddie… There are limited editions of stuff too, like figurines with lots of discounts on anything you like!” Eddie just rolls his eyes at his friend, wanting anything but to look at stuff in the stands. 

“You told me that already…” He looked around to see the different types of crowds. You had kids, adults, teenagers and even elderly. He was surprised to see a couple dressed up as Leia and Han Solo and that’s when he noticed the amount of cosplayers that were there. Some of them you could guess it was their first one, and some were extremely detailed, surprising Eddie completely. 

When they finally got inside, Eddie tilted his head with confusion as he thought everything was going to be crowded, but it was very spacious and there were many areas of the different stands, people actually having some respect to not push through to look at stuff. He looked at Dustin who was mesmerized as he looked all around and then his eyes widened as he spotted the sponsor he wanted to show Eddie.

“Look Eds!” Eddie looked at where Dustin was pointing at and his eyes widened as he looked at the stand that was filled with DnD figurines, dice, boards, and everything you could possibly get for the game to be even more thrilling. He was magnetized towards it and he had to hold himself back as he looked all over the merchandise. He settled for a squishy 20 dice that looked cool with all the red and black swirls and then for a resin one that had liquid inside and a moving ball with sparkles in the middle.

“Fucking sick…” Dustin smiled at his friend as they kept walking to the other stands. Eddie was not that excited for the rest of the things his younger friend was showing him, but he couldn’t deny that the small businesses made stuff that official merchandise doesn’t have. He looked towards the Netflix sponsor that was in the crowdest part of the building, frowning at it.

“What are you looking at?” Dustin asked as he followed Eddie’s gaze to see what he was staring at.

“I don’t know, something about a new show being aired soon. Didn’t catch its name. Something about things.” He shrugged as he kept walking and Dustin followed right behind. The next part Dustin was excited to see was the gaming area. 

Eddie didn’t have enough money to get a nice gaming pc, but it was decent enough, so he didn’t mind going into that area to look at the new releases and the many components you could buy for your PC. His eyes caught onto a large mousepad that had the eye of Sauron in the middle of it and he didn’t even hesitate when he purchased it. Dustin bought a new gaming mouse for himself and they left the area contently.

“You still hate conventions?” Dustin asks with a wiggle of eyebrows as they head outside for Eddie to have a smoke. The metalhead rolls his eyes as he puts down his bags to get a cigarette in between his lips and light it up, blowing the smoke into the open air.

“It does smell weird Dustin… One time is enough for me.” Eddie says and Dustin could only sigh at how hopeless his friend was. He really thought Eddie would like going to a convention with him because Eddie was into all of this stuff. 

“Really? Nothing appealed to you?”

“It’s the same sh–” And his eyes caught sight of something white that was walking through the crowd. His heart got caught in his throat as he saw the most beautiful thing he’s seen this whole day and nothing could beat it. The long white hair falling down her back, the elf ears picking out of it on the sides, the elf silver crown over her head, the white dress falling down her body as she kept walking.

Galadriel. From Lord of The Rings.

“Eddie?” Dustin followed his gaze until it finally landed on the Galadriel cosplayer, making him smile proudly. “Oh, that’s actually a famous cosplayer.” 

“What?” Eddie snaps his head towards Dustin and the younger boy keeps nodding and he finally says your real name. 

“She is very good with her fantasy themed cosplays. Here, I’ll give you her instagram.” Eddie didn’t even doubt it for a second as he handed Dustin his phone in order to look you up. His eyes bulged out of his skull as he browsed over your profile. 

There were armor cosplays, DnD cosplays, Legend of Zelda cosplays, some a little more explicit than the others, but it wasn’t bad. He gulped as he stared at one of your League of Legends cosplay. You were dressed as Miss Fortune, and your cleavage was making your breasts really pop out from the edges. He was almost drooling and he remembered he was with Dustin, hitting the follow button and remembering to keep stalking your profile later on. 

You were taking pictures with people and Eddie noticed how you were acting exactly like the character you were cosplaying as. Graceful and calm. Dustin laughed when a group of men, dressed as hobbits, ran over to you to take a picture and Eddie couldn’t help but smile as you all stood in character for the picture. He was amazed at the dedication which was even more than just putting a costume on. 

“Does she always go to conventions?” Eddie asks his friend and Dustin caught onto it, knowing Eddie had finally found something that interests him in the event. 

“She’s always invited. I said she was famous. She has a stand most likely if you want to go meet her and get a picture…” Dustin tries and Eddie immediately shakes his head, taking a puff out of his cigarette. 

“Nah, I’m good.”

He probably spent a good hour stalking all of your photoshoot pictures when he got home. 

He noticed that you also cosplayed stuff from many games and movies, and he almost died when he saw you in a Tomb Raider costume. You had over 52k followers on Instagram, and now he understood why Dustin said you were famous. You were a Cosplay Influencer, but you seemed genuine in your stories, and he couldn’t help but smile as you reposted many stories of people that took a picture with you as Galadriel. 

He kind of cursed at himself for not being able to be brave enough to get a picture with you. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of Dustin… Though he kind of knew that his younger friend realized that he had hearts eyes for you the moment you walked out in the court. 

He wondered if he would ever have the chance to meet you, maybe even help you in a way. That’s when he saw the donation button in your Instagram page. It said that you were grateful for everyone’s collaboration and that every penny goes into her cosplays and into the fundraiser for Kids with Epilepsy she donates to. Eddie wondered if that was indeed true, because many influencers lie about that stuff.

For some reason though, he really did believe you had a kind soul.

So he donated what he could afford, which was only five dollars– but it was something.

He didn’t have to wonder if you were a kind soul for long. There was an Anime Convention being held in a couple of weeks, and you posted in your feed that you were invited and was going to have a stand to sell prints of your pictures and get to know everyone that wanted to take a picture with her. 

It was a coincidence that Dustin had another free ticket this time saying that he thought Mike liked anime, but it turns out that he didn’t and now he didn’t know what to do with that extra ticket. Eddie wasn’t going to pass the chance and took it without a second thought in mind.

He wasn’t a fan of anime, but the amount of ass and tits that he saw as he entered the building was insane. He knew there were very explicit animes out there, but what he didn’t know was that people dared to cosplay them in public. He almost wanted to cover Dustin’s eyes, often forgetting that his friend is no longer fourteen years old. 

“Holy fuck…” Eddie mumbles out as his eyes went from breasts, to asses, to another pair of breasts–

“Yeah, this is what you’ve been missing out on all these years. I told Steve to come so many times because trust me, I know he would love it.” Dustin chuckles as Eddie follows suit. He knew that Steve was a flirt, and yes, he was stupid for saying no to Dustin. Screw him now because Eddie was the one to always second Dustin to conventions now.

“I don’t know anything about what they’re dressed as…” He points at a few girls that are dressed with very tiny strings and underwear with a lot of plastic armor around them. “But fuck that’s hot.”

“That’s Kill la Kill.” 

“Dustin… I don’t care…” Dustin couldn’t help but laugh, nodding at Eddie to keep moving. He kept walking as his eyes couldn’t stop looking all over the place, not looking at where he was going, only for him to run into someone, plastic crashing onto his chin as he yelped in pain and stepped back in order to hold it. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” A muffled voice says, and he looks at the person he ran into, only to see a girl dressed in a black tight motorbike suit that fits her body like a glove. The zipper on her chest was pulled down slightly for her cleavage to show and he almost kept his stare there, but he snapped out as the girl moved and his eyes looked up to see her wearing a yellow cat bike helmet, a very black visor at front and the cat ears pointing up. Eddie can pretty much guess that’s what hit his chin.

“Yeah, don’t– Don’t worry about it.” Dustin immediately got in between them both and handed his phone to Eddie.

“Holy shit, your Celty cosplay is so perfect! Can I have a picture with you?” A muffled giggle was heard behind the helmet and she nodded. Eddie got the camera app out on Dustin’s phone as the girl and him got in position for the picture and Eddie almost laughed at how Dustin was taking his tongue out as she poked his cheek with her black latex glove. Eddie took the picture and handed the phone to Dustin.

“Thank you! And sorry again pretty boy!” She says to Eddie and he was taken aback by how straightforward she was as she skipped away. 

“I love that character, and her cosplay was fucking spot on.” Dustin looked at the picture with a smile to his face and put his phone back into his pocket. Eddie believed that taking pictures with cosplayers that were just minding their own business as they walked was a little bit embarrassing, but they didn’t seem to mind, but kind of seemed delighted by it. Dustin explained to him that cosplayers don’t have to be bothered if seen eating or resting, or if you see them heading for a bathroom. 

Eddie nodded in acknowledgement at that as they kept walking, and he watched Dustin purchase many figurines from animes he liked, and Eddie wasn’t going to lie but there was a particular figure he found interest in. It was a demon looking guy with big black wings, an apple in one hand and he was hunched over.

“Who’s this?”

“That’s Ryuk, he’s from Death Note. I told you to watch that one, you will like it.” Eddie hums in approval, and he acknowledges Dustin’s recommendation noting to watch that later. 

When he finally reaches the cosplayer gallery… His jaw almost drops to the floor. 

There stood that Celty cosplay girl only this time, her helmet was off. 

You were smiling as you signed pictures of yourself as people purchased them from your stand. He cursed at himself for not knowing it was you the person he ran into an hour ago because if he knew, he would have gotten a picture with you as well. 

“Wanna go say hi to her?” Dustin asks as he smirks up at his friend and Eddie just scoffs, shaking his head.

“No. She is just your typical internet influencer, asking for donations for–” He blinked in surprise when he saw a few people walking over to you with shirts that said something in the back. You were smiling wildly as you excitedly talked to all of them. All of these people were grown adults, a few elderly ones, and when he squinted his eyes he could see what the shirts said in the back.

‘Epilepsy Foundation’

They were all purchasing prints for you as you tried to decline it, not wanting these people to buy stuff from you as you shook your head. They all still purchased a picture for you, and then when they all got together for a picture that another cosplayer helped take for all of you, he saw these people with bands over their foreheads that said your name. Eddie’s heart warmed immediately as he saw you wiping a tear away as these people clapped for you. There wasn’t a camera on sight to catch that moment, making it more intimate and more genuine.

“Dustin… I think I fell in love.”

Eddie became a fan.

He knew it and he didn’t care. You were kind, amazing, beautiful and selfless. He was waiting for the next convention to happen in town knowing there were a few ones that were small, just for the people around the area. He also donated any time he could, even if it were two dollars, or three, maybe sometimes ten, but it was always something. 

He was now laying on his bed, scrolling through tik tok and that’s when he got the notification of you going live on Instagram. His eyes almost bulged out of his skull and he immediately, desperately, pressed onto the notification, directing it straight to your live. He almost sighed out in happiness as he saw your face coming onto the screen. There was little to nothing of makeup on your face and he was just mesmerized as you greeted everyone.

He deliberated if to say hi to you or not. He gulped as he typed out a small ‘Hey’ and a smiley face which made him cringe and delete it. Would it be too cold? He wasn’t believing that you would see it anyways, so he just sent it like that. You were still greeting people and your eyes perked up suddenly.

“Oh, hi Eddie! Thank you for donating all this time, I am grateful for that!” 

He couldn’t believe it as he quickly sat up on his bed. His heart was in his throat as he stared at the screen completely speechless. You acknowledged him. You noticed his username is the same one he uses for the donation app. You know about him and… Fuck did he have cringey photos in his instagram feed? He knows he has one with Steve and then one with Dustin but he doesn’t know if–

What makes him think you stalked his instagram page? He shook his head at the thought and took a deep breath in as he typed in another message. You were talking about your upcoming events and he pressed send to his message.

‘Hopefully I have the balls to ask for your picture this time.’

Another message he doesn’t think you will see with over five hundred people watching your live, and that thought was proved wrong once more when you giggled as you fake gasped with a hand over your chest.

“Am I that scary? Also, how’s your chin?” 

Eddie’s jaw fell open, instantly. Holy fucking shit. Holy flying fuck. You remembered him. You remembered him from when he ran into you with Dustin a month ago… You stalked his instagram profile. You did. You obviously fucking did. It seems that you noticed your mistake because he saw how your face flushed as you tried changing subject back to the next event you will be attending. 

He was speechless right now. He was sure that there were many people donating hundreds, way more money than he was able to give out, yet you noticed him for some reason? What does it mean? Why does he feel hopeful? What for? He gulped as he looked at the screen, and confidence rose up in his chest as he wrote the following message.

‘You forgot to kiss it better.’

And his confidence only grew when you responded to him again with a smile to your face.

“Well, remind me of that at the next con.”

He was pissed. 

He was extremely pissed. 

He was being dragged here and there at the convention because it wasn’t just Dustin this time. Mike and Will came along and he didn’t want to leave them alone because they were acting like little kids all over again, going from stand to stand, from game to game, and all Eddie wanted to do was to rush towards the Cosplayer Alley to be able to meet you. 

“I am hungry.” Mike voices out as he doesn’t even ask for the group’s approval as he walks out to the food court that was outside. Eddie groans heavily as his anger just keeps raising up, and he gets the cigarettes out of his pocket and tells Dustin to just stay put at the hot dog stand. He walked away from the tables people were sitting at eating just to be respectful for the smoke and then, when he was about to light up his cigarette, a small voice was heard from behind him.

“Hey… Can I have a smoke?” 

He turned around to clash eyes with colored lenses that were in a blue tone. White hair dripped down again, but this time a half braid was around the head and towards the back. A white dress that had black dragon wings at the torso that held a white cape over her shoulders. 

“Well shit, I can’t believe Daenerys Targaryen is asking for a smoke.” Eddie was surprised he could make a joke as you finally giggle, a smile spreading over your lips, walking closer to him. His hands were shaking as he held onto his pack and opened it for you to take one stick out. You put it on your lips and he raised the lighter up as you leaned forward to light the cigarette up. After a long inhale, you finally let it out, a curtain of smoke filling the air above you.

“Yeah… This costume is… doing something today and I needed to relax a bit.” You say shyly as you look down towards the floor. Eddie’s heart was beating out of his throat, taking a drag out of his own cigarette this time as he looked at you. He looked behind him to see a beverage stand, licking his lips as he squinted his eyes and then back at you.

“You want a beer?” He didn’t even know if you liked beer, but he felt cupid shooting another arrow towards his chest when you looked up at him excitedly with a nod. 

“I would like that…” You both walk to the stand to get a can of beer each, and you giggle as you guide Eddie to move to the back of the stand so that no one could see you in your cosplay having alcohol and smoking.

“So secretive.” Eddie says and he didn’t even care if the others couldn’t find him anymore. Hell, they can get lost and he will most definitely ditch them if it meant to have a moment with you alone. You giggle as you squinted slightly at his face, biting your bottom lip in thought.

“What’s… your name?” You asked it with a hint of doubt behind it but Eddie didn’t notice it, or didn’t think too much of it.

“I’m Eddie–”

“I KNEW IT!” Eddie's heart jumped out of his mouth at your scream, his eyes widening as he looked at you who was looking at him with the brightest of smiles. “I knew it was you! You are Eddie!”

“I mean, I am Eddie…” His confidence was skyrocketing again. You remembered him, definitely, from his face to his hair, and you even recognized him from just instagram pictures, which only led Eddie to wonder… How many times have you looked at them?

“The guy who doesn’t dare to take a picture with me.” You smirk as you take a sip of your beer while looking at him. He scoffs as he rolls his eyes at you, but happiness was just blossoming inside of him as he looked at you.

“I do dare, I just don’t do this convention shit so I was embarrassed at first.” You hum at his words, taking a drag out of the cigarette. 

“If you don’t like them, why do you attend?” You ask him with a tilt of your head, completely confused by his response. He was speechless, his worst stumbling out of his mouth as he thought of an excuse other than just blurting out ‘Because of you’.

“M-My buddy always needs someone to accompany him… For support.” At that you made an ‘Oh’ sound, giving him a nod in understanding.

“The guy that I took a picture with when I smashed your chin?” You ask with a giggle and he felt like dying at the sound of your lovely voice. He chuckles, nodding down at you as he takes a sip of his beer.

“Yep.”  You seemed like you wanted to say something to him but you held back, taking a sip out of your beer and Eddie could feel you ogling him over your cup. He wanted to ask the gods above if this was a trick of theirs, a stupid joke or a trial he had to go through because it wasn’t possible that a girl like you was looking at him with desire. It was impossible.

“Really… Then why did you come here if your friend… is with friends?” You were smirking now as he snapped out of his trance and you gave him a nod towards his back, making him turn around only to see Dustin laughing along with Mike and Will as they sat on a table eating their corn dogs. He winced in embarrassment as he turned to face you again.

“I am their ride.” He lied. He offered to be the ride. Mike told him there was no need, but Eddie refused. 

“And you are drinking?” 

“One beer isn’t going to kill me.” Eddie replies back and you were now looking at him, a small smile on your lips and Eddie had one thought only at that moment. One that he never thought of having. A thought that just came to him and now he realizes it has been a fantasy ever since he saw you.

He wants to fuck you in one of your cosplays.

“Oh… thought you were coming to finally ask to take a picture with me.” You say in a sultry tone as you took a drag out of your cigarette and Eddie immediately felt the tension growing between the two of you. He licked the inside of his bottom lip as he looked down at you. A smirk spread on his lips and he noticed how you straightened up, a small step forward going towards him. 

You were pure in his eyes, doing all this cosplay stuff, doing charity, being incredible with the people that followed you, but he never thought you would ever look at someone like him like this. He never thought you would be this willing at the first interaction you had with him… But if he was reading the signs right, and if he was daring enough, he might get to fuck Daenerys Targaryen. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but someday. So might as well–

“I actually came here to ask you for your picture… and a date.” 

And Eddie’s heart was taken away once more as you smirked at him, taking another step closer to him and you responded in a low and seductive tone that sent shivers down his spine and adrenaline started rushing inside of him. 

“I’m free after the event.” He took another step closer to you, and he noticed the intake of breath you took in, making him grin widely.

“Yeah, I think you promised to kiss it better… Didn’t you sweet girl?”

idk man, i just couldn't stop writing this, acknowledgement to all my cosplay girlies out there.

Smutty part 2? Let's hear at what Eddie should fuck her in.

[midnightjewel]

Super Bowl

Obviously, as a girlie from a football family we’re having a Super Bowl party (even though our team hasn’t been since the 90s smfh) my bf is a big eagles fan and as much as I love my girl Tay, I’ve gotta root for the eagles this year! (And keep in mind that as I’m writing this, the game hasn’t even started yet so I know nothing)

So who are they rooting for this year?

Characters Included: Bakugo, Kirishima, Denki, Sero, Shinsou

Bakugo

- 100% going for the chiefs just to piss Denki off

- He went as far as to buy a jersey just for this game and has been wearing Chiefs merchandise all week just to get a rise out of him

- Truthfully he’s not even a Chiefs fan (I think he’s a Tampa Bay fan) he just wants to make people mad and he’s living for every second of it

- Definitely has a yelling problem when some controversial calls are made that he doesn’t agree with. Not just for the Super Bowl but for any football game that he watches

- I can’t lie he has probably broken something in the dorms before when his team lost

- Probably gets mad (like very mad) when Taylor is shown for two seconds and is earning side eyes from everyone. He probably tweets about it too tbh

- Will probably be getting into a fist fight with Denki tonight after shit talking

If you’re his gf:

- Does not care who you’re going for but if it’s opposite of him you’re not safe from his teasing

- Probably makes you get him a plate of food tbh (weather you do or not is completely up to you)

- If you laugh at him while he’s raging he’ll become more frustrated but tbh it’s so hilarious you can’t stop

Kirishima

- Chiefs because of his hair (and Tay Tay)

- Definitely bought a jersey like Bakugo but he didn’t do it with the intentions of pissing Denki off he’s just doing it for fun

- Not a regular Chiefs fan either, probably a Miami Dolphins fan

- Honestly loves that Taylor Swift is being incorporated into football because he was a casual listener of hers before but has been recently getting more into her music

- Honestly argues with Bakugo when he yells at the TV for Taylor being shown and they’ve gotten into some pretty heated discussions about it while everyone just sits there awkwardly

- is obsessed with Super Bowl snacks and food, when he’s not sitting on the couch intensely watching, he’s in the kitchen getting a plate of snacks and food (his 5th plate of the night)

- Is hopeful that Kendrick will bring out Taylor for bad blood but knows that it’s not a realistic expectation (is hopeful though)

- Slight chance that he’s wearing a shirt that says “Go Taylor’s Boyfriend” tonight and he is absolutely unashamed about it too

If you’re his gf:

- Respects whoever you want to root for and doesn’t mind friendly competition if it’s opposite of what he chooses

- Probably an accidental mansplainer when it comes to girls and football as if you don’t know what’s going on (he means well I swear)

- Probably asks you if you could get him a drink or something to eat a few times while he’s watching the game but if you don’t want to that’s fine with him! In fact, next commercial break he’s getting you both something from the kitchen

- Never ever is violent about a football game especially not in front of you, if anything he’s the one breaking up fights which you find totally attractive

Denki

- A die hard Eagles fan (if you know football you’d probably think I’d pick the LA chargers but no a die hard eagles fan)

- Cried when they won in 2018 and cried even harder when they lost in 2023 and it didn’t help that bakugo was absolutely ridiculing him after the Chiefs beat them

- Has been posting things like “it took the avengers two tries to beat Thanos” or something like that referring to the loss of 2023 and tonight

- Definitely has been wearing the merch all week leading up to the Super Bowl. Hats, Scarves, Gloves, Jerseys, Hoodies, SHOES

- Absolutely has a huge Eagles banner in his dorm room

- Has broken a remote before I can’t lie

- The type of person to scream “What the fuck are we doing?!” When his team makes a mistake. And also the type of person to clap really loud and act like an eagle when they score a touchdown

- He will probably be pacing behind the couch tonight (so nervous he can’t even sit down)

If you’re his gf:

- Please (even if you’re not a fan) just root for the Eagles with him, it would mean the world to him

- You ofc know how passionate he is and you always try your best to comfort him if things aren’t going in his favor. Back rubs, reassuring words, bringing him a little snack, etc.

- Will probably pout a bit if you’re going for the opposing team but you’re his queen and he loves you unconditionally no matter how tense the game becomes

Sero

- Despite the rivalry between his team and the eagles (which has caused some arguments between him and Denki) he’s going for the eagles tonight

- Definitely a Dallas Cowboy’s fan (same) and can’t even defend them anymore

- Probably wants to switch teams but his whole family and himself are too deep into it now with the amount of money spent on merchandise

- He just accepts fate that they regularly suck and hopes that one season he’ll be able to enjoy watching them play

- like I said, due to rivalry he normally HATES the eagles but is making an exception for this game as he is probably a Chiefs hater

- Loves munching on snacks that are brought to the party and will probably tell Bakugo or Denki (or both) to “calm the fuck down” at some point tonight

- Excited for the halftime show and is probably vibing with Shinsou and Kirishima while Bakugo and Kaminari passive aggressively stare at each other in the kitchen while getting food

If you’re his gf:

- You two just snuggle up on the couch and get ready for the shit show between Denki and Bakugo tbh

- Vibes with you during the halftime show and makes sure you’re eating the delicious food that’s been made, he would hate for you to miss out if you’re so invested in the game

- Towards the end you two definitely have to attempt to break up the fist fight between Denki and Bakugo

Shinsou

- Honestly going for the eagles tonight (and not because Denki wouldn’t leave him alone to pick a side)

- Doesn’t mind the chiefs but I can see him going for the eagles as he sees them as the underdog in this situation tonight

- He’s probably a casual watcher of football but is also probably just a chill Ravens fan or something

- Probably has maybe one jersey or a small poster in his room of the ravens but is a casual fan

- Doesn’t care who wins or loses and he’s honestly just here for the vibes which is a good way to act

- Will casually share his disagreement with a controversial call or two but mostly just sits back and takes it all in

- Tbh is probably still in the common room only because of the halftime show with Kendrick Lamar. Not like us was a song that he may have been hardcore vibing with last year so he’s hopeful that he’ll sing it

- Probably finds is amusing when Denki and Bakugo are almost getting into a fist fight. Probably recording it tbh and just laughing and quietly saying “yo what the fuck” behind the camera while laughing as Bakugo is cackling at Denki being mad and Denki is insulting Bakugo to the point where he stops laughing and they end up slightly fist fighting before being broken up by Sero and Kirishima

If you’re his gf:

- You two are most definitely snuggled together under a blanket awaiting the big show between some of your friends

- Doesn’t care who you’re going for! Eagles? Cool. You guys are definitely matching. Chiefs? That’s fine with him too! There for the food? So is he. There to watch for Taylor? He’s grinning as you happily point out that they’re showing her

- Gently caressing your face as you fall asleep on his shoulder and gets ticked off when the guys wake you up with their loud and unnecessary bickering

[lillified]

Can I ask how you first opened your shop? I’m currently opening my own to sell artwork but I need a bit of advice if you don’t mind? Such as how do I sell my artwork as prints? Any tips or advice would be greatly appreciated, thank you so much ! : D

hi! thank you for the question :)

this is going to be long so I’m putting everything under the cut:

before anything else my first piece of advice would be don’t run before you can walk—any form of selling art, whether that’s client commissions or merchandising, is something I would only recommend to an artist with confidence. Think about whether you’re confident about your technical knowledge and output, and be confident, above all, that if something doesn’t sell then it doesn’t demoralize you. There will always be a market for high-quality art, but something selling doesn’t necessarily make it high quality, and likewise for the opposite. If you love the craft of drawing more than the feedback then you’ll be equipped to understand why some things succeed and some don’t, without taking offense from failure. there is ALWAYS room to grow and learn. Insecurity will prevent you from being objective!

The next thing I’d advise is that prints are a bit of a difficult commodity. High-quality prints can be very profitable and a great way to stock your shop, but they can also be harder to sell. A lot of the indie art market is young people who don’t have the wall space for posters, and prints are so accessible that most artists have them. Show your potential customers respect by printing high-quality pieces that speak for themselves.

With things like charms and stationary you can get away with less polished artwork that maximizes direct, fundamental appeal, but prints are all your artwork, without frills or gimmicks. Do people like looking at your artwork? More importantly, do YOU like looking at your artwork? If you would hang your own artwork on your wall, then that’s a sign you’re doing something right.

another thing I’d advise: having an audience helps A LOT. I can’t pretend it doesn’t, lol. but specifically, an audience that follows you for your artwork. you probably follow artists you wouldn’t buy a print from, and there’s nothing wrong with that—not every artist makes illustrations that translate well to print, and some artists use social media to talk about being an artist instead of sharing their art. A following doesn’t mean you’ll have success, but it absolutely is a huge factor in what I’d consider my success, and it takes a lot of the burden of marketing off of me so I can just be casual and focus on making art. I’m extremely grateful for that support! but a majority of people don’t have that privilege, and I know plenty artists who don’t want to have to be on social media. It’s a lot harder to get that initial push and get eyeballs on your work when you don’t have it, and in that case you’ve got to be aware of how much market minding goes into running a shop. Don’t get out of your depth trying to branch out and adding new designs when you don’t even know what works yet—take it slow, and be willing to learn.

that’s all really dense and abstract stuff and I’m pretty sure you meant like, what supplies to buy and stuff like that, so uh. Here’s a bit of what’s helped me! Starting off, if you have a good art printer already then you can print stuff at home, but when you’re just starting out I’d recommend outsourcing to a print service. Getting your own printer and ink probably isn’t worth it unless you’re printing and selling a high volume of things, and you’re an artist, not a printer—there’s no shame in working with a shop if you know you’re getting professional, high-quality stuff. also, If you’re in college and your school has a print lab, use it! they usually have lots of really cool equipment and can introduce you to techniques you never even knew existed.

as with anything, remember to start smaller than you think you’ll need. You might get starry eyed and think you need 40 posters of one design, but you’ll be amazed at how far just 10 will go. also, 40 posters take up way more space than you think! I always go for a medium variety with low individual stock, and it’s led to a healthy traffic where less popular prints still move over time because people check out my shop for a new item, look at my backlog, and find something they like. The only thing you should be getting extra of are postcards! my go-to printer usually gives me bonus of my smallest sizes and I use them for freebies and stuff like that. don’t dismiss the value of postcard prints, they’re a great way to introduce people to your art and they might end up coming back for the full size (plus, as mentioned, a lot of people don’t have wall space, and little postcards are a great option!)

one downside of shipping paper products is that it’s harder than you think. For supplies, I recommend looking up what other people do before committing the first thing that comes up when you look up “poster mailing supplies.” Some people use bubble mailers with corrugated cardboard inserts, some people use stiff mailers—personally, I gravitate to mailing tubes. Flat mailers are more fragile and also prone to getting wet and nasty in the winter. While mailing tubes are harder to pack and open up more room for handling damage, I’m more comfortable with that risk because I ship a lot of orders to a lot of different places. I’ve had consistent luck with mailing tubes and I recommend them as a secure alternative, but it really depends on your needs and strengths.

lastly I just want to reiterate—be proud of what you make! When you’re insecure in your art it’s easy to rely on what you see works for other people, but without being them you’ll never be able to walk on your own. You can copy what they do exactly, but you’ll be handicapped by the fact that you’ll never be able to make the decisions that made those people successful in the first place. The same goes for chasing market trends, appealing to algorithms, etc. Study success stories, listen to feedback, and respect your audience, but don’t make things that you think other people will love—make things that YOU love. Make a poster you would put on your wall even if it wasn’t yours.

phew, that was really long lol—sorry, believe it or not I wanted to keep this succinct and readable but I just kept thinking of new things. I hope this is helpful! Thank you!!

[kyemna]

Theme park with the Hazbin Hotel Characters headcanons

Charlie:

-Was so excited, she couldn't sleep the night before.

-Grabs your hand, and drags you through the whole park.

-Expect to go on EVERY. SINGLE. RIDE.

-Absolutely LOVES rollercoasters.

-Tried to drag her dad along with you guys, but he insisted you spend some alone time together. (He's scared of rollercoasters LMFAO)

-Buys all the merchandise she can get her hands on.

-Regrets letting you pick the next ride when you head towards the haunted house.

-Is clinging on to you as if her life depended on it.

-"that was so fun.." she had her eyes closed the whole time.

-Such a foodie when it comes to theme parks. Doesn't even notice the extreme prices.

-Claims she's not tired, but the moment you guys get back to the car, she's GONE.

Vaggie:

-The theme park was 100% your idea. She would never even bring it up.

-After some whining and begging she gave in.

-Lets you choose all the rides.

-Tries her hardest to enjoy most of it, for your sake.

-Definitely threw up after the first rollercoaster.

-The waterguns however.. now that's more like it.

-Targets all the dry people. All the newcomers get out of the ride, soaked to the bone.

-Prefers not to eat there (weak stomach)

-Everytime she gets jumped in the haunted house, she curses at them in Spanish.

-Accidentally punched one of the scare actors.. broke the poor man's nose.

-Is so happy when you get back to the car, and it's finally over.

Angel dust:

-He had a day off so this was completely his idea.

-Loves Tilt-a-Whirl.

-Screamed at every rollercoaster just for the sake of screaming.

-He somehow smuggled alcohol into the theme park..??

So before you go into one of the rides, you two took a shot.

-He was the one dragging you into the Haunted House.

-You lost him somewhere in there and he snuck up on you. Scared your soul straight into the second afterlife.

-There was a kids disco. He wanted to go. Mind you, you two were tipsy ASFFF.

So just imagine two nearly drunk adults on the dance floor at a kids disco.

-Asked the DJ to play a song, claiming it was 100% kid friendly. CPR by Cupcakke..

-You two got kicked out..😭

-Had to Uber home since ya'll were drunk as shit.

Alastor:

-It took HOURS of convincing to get him to go with you.

-After 583 "No's", he got tired of your whining so he agreed to shut you up LOLL.

-Said No to rollercoasters. Everytime. You. Asked. He never gave in.

-Walked straight to the haunted house, to scare the scare actors.

-Weirdly agreed on the water guns?

-Oh he went all out. A family trying to have a fun time? Not on his watch.

-Sat on a bench 80% of the time, letting you run around.

-Really liked the Ferris wheel!

-Also really liked the Bumper cars. He went after everyone. No mercy.

-Have to keep this one short, i just can't really imagine him at a Theme Park😭

Husk:

-He was bored, so instantly agreed to go with you.

-Went along with everything you did.

-He really liked the haunted house for some reason. Asked to go again.

-There was a Just Dance contest. You two DOMINATED everyone. You won a big bear.

-He HATED the water guns.

-Paid for everything.

-Really liked taking pictures in the Photobooth, but he'll never admit it.

-Survived so long on the mechanical bull.

-You two teamed up at the Bumper Cars.

Went after all the kids LMFAO.

-Did like 10 rounds on the carousel, because he was tired.

-Got so annoyed at the constant music and high pitched screams.

-He wanted to go home after like 3 hours of running around.

Thank you for reading!

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Hey, can you write something for Matt simmons? I love him. He and the reader are together, he never visits her apartment bc she a big nerd (actionfigures, books, DVDs, games,..) and she insecure about it (somesone said terrible stuff about it) but Matt is really interest in the stuff. Maybe with lots of fluff? I think that doesn't require a special season but i think the latest criminal minds seasons, where he is a part of the team is good! Thank you 🩷

plus size fangirl!reader, wc: 651.

a/n: slowly but surely getting around to my drafts!! this has sat in there for so long almost finished and i apologize for that! matt is a character i've never written for before, but i find that's easy to capture his personality. thank you for your request!! :]

Living by yourself meant that you could decorate your home with your most prized possessions, but you choose to surround yourself with your special interests instead.

You loved your apartment, it was your safe space, your solace. There wasn’t an inch of your place of comfort that wasn’t covered by your most treasured memorabilia; posters, funko pops, action figures, you name it. If there was a kind of merchandise, you have it.

That’s why it felt like you were living a double life when you were with Matt; by day, you were his super cute – albeit basic looking – girlfriend. By night, you were a fangirl.

Your boyfriend had never been to your apartment, most of the time you had chosen to either go over to his place, or be picked up outside of your neighborhood. He never really questioned it, just smiling and saying ‘Hi’ after placing a sweet kiss on your lips.

So that begs the question: What the fuck was he doing here?

Standing by your front door dressed head to toe in a mix of your favorite fandoms – the pants your favorite tv show, and your shirt the other – you stared out of the peephole at the absolute meal that was your man.

You took a moment to look around; your living room was in utter disarray! Oh God, when was the last time you did laundry or the dishes?

He’s going to take one step in here then hit the ground running!

Matt has already knocked twice, and you watch as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, tapping on it for a moment before the one in your hand begins to ring.

You could ignore it yes, but you really wouldn’t put kicking the door down past him if he thought that something was wrong. Gulping, you answer and hold the phone to your ear, your singular eye still trained on him outside.

“Hi.” You wish your voice wasn’t as breathless as it sounded.  “Hey.” You could hear the amusement in his voice, and with the way he had that cheeky smile on his face.

There was a moment of silence, “So… are you going to let me in?”

“...No.” He just laughed, and finally looked up at the peephole, causing you to move away from it.

“And why is that?”

“Because…” You spared a look around the room, “It’s embarrassing.” 

“How is me coming to see you embarrassing?”

“It’s not that! It’s just- I have a bunch of stuff like… everywhere. I don’t want you to make fun of me.” You watched as he sighed.

“Baby,” He began, “When have I ever made fun of you for anything?”

He was right, and you hated it. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With that, you hung up and unlocked the door.

Matt examined you from head to toe, his cheeky grin spreading even wider into a full blown smile. “Well, don’t you look cute.” He teased, pulling you into his arms to place a sweet kiss on your forehead.

“You don’t think it’s weird?” You mumbled into his strong chest.

You can tell he takes a really good look around your apartment before responding. “Nah, I’m glad you have hobbies, y’know?” Matt says. “You promise?” It was such a petulant thing to ask, but you knew that it would quell your anxiety.

His laugh is hearty, his chest reverberating due to the vibrations. “Of course sweetheart. Now, is there any other cool stuff you want to show me?”

You pull away and look at him with lit up eyes, “Yeah!” You tug him inside and lead him to your room where your other memorabilia lies.

Little do you know that Matt is taking note of everything you’re showing him, he’s even thinking about getting you guys matching pajamas. He thought you knew how much of a geek he was alongside you.

[yandere-yearnings]

How would Vio, Sun and Dice react to a darling that is obsesseeeeed with a fictional character? (Like they have a ita bag of them, a body pillow, etc.)

Would they be jealous even if that person isn’t real?

I love you writing and have a great daaaaay❤️❤️

thank you for saying so nonnie!! hope you have a great day too🥺🩷

Sun takes it entirely to heart, he doesn't like the idea at all. As a writer, he knows how attached people can get to fictional characters because he's seen the reactions his works have elicited from fans. Real or not, just the thought that someone other than him is on your mind bothers him immensely. He'll whine and pout at you, asking why you're replacing him — is he not good enough? Every time he sees you with products of them, Sun burns, and he's quick to snatch them away, saying you should focus on him instead.

Dice isn't all too bothered by it. He understands that it's just fiction, and it'll never replace him because it doesn't actually exist. His materialism shows in his mindset; what he can't hold in his hands isn't worthy enough to occupy space in his head. He'd be curious to know what it is that makes you like the character though, so Dice would actually encourage you to talk about them. If, by chance, you manage to convince him of their appeal, you might even come home just to find some limited edition merchandise waiting for you.

Vio is not having it. He's the biggest name the acting industry has ever seen, a celebrity amongst celebrities, the crème de la crème — they sell body pillows of him too so what the fuck is that monstrosity on your bed that looks nothing like him? It's getting burned, as is everything else you own that doesn't have his face plastered on it. You can try to pry the items from him, but his grip is unrelenting. There is absolutely zero chance that Vio will ever entertain the prospect of not being your number one.

[fuck-customers]

I desperately wish I could explain to my coworker that really wants me to become a manager for whatever reason that the main reasons why I don't want to become a manager are:

1. If I become a manager, I'd have to work under the store manager, who I don't have a shred of respect for. I think she's nice, but is a complete moron who couldn't run a store if her life depended on it. Up until now, I encounter her every 4th or 5th shift for 20-30 minutes. Very minimal interaction.

2. Building off of point 1, our store manager just doesn't do shit that is her job to do or assign someone to do to run a store. I do that shit because it bothers me on a personal level and the dumb bitch undoes it and I redo it. Tbh it's kinda fun, because I'm petty. If I were a manager, I would not have the time to do these things. (These things being price tagging the merchandise at the front end. It's asinine that 90% of the products in the store don't have prices. I suppose if I were a manager, I'd have the freedom to roam the store to tag other aisles, but managers are given long lists of tasks to do and I'd never have spare time)

3. If I became a manager, I'd be a lead and the chain of command would be store manager-->assistant store manager-->me. And I HATE the assistant store manager. 1000x worse than the store manager. I actually don't mind the store manager as a person, I just think she's an absolute moron and a shit manager. However, the assistant store manager is a CUNT. I genuinely hate her, but as a non-management employee, I don't have to interact with her too often, as she's usually working in the back of the store. But if I were a lead, I'd have to work with her and report to her.

4. I am doing shit to sabotage the store and our store manager, because she won't do her fucking job. I've reported the store to OSHA (and they got a big ass fine el em ay oh) I've been stealing customer receipts out of the garbage to write bad reviews on the store survey that our DM reads and I've also submitted fake negative customer reviews to corporate about our location specifically. If I became a lead, I would not have the time or opportunity to steal the receipts and I would have more eyes on me because I would now be a Manager who is In Charge.

I also have several other reasons that I've given (lead isn't a full-time position and my hours would not increase at all, but I'd be doing 10x the work for $2 more) but these are my real reasons, which I obviously can't tell her or anyone at work.

Posted by admin Rodney