#of course his co workers are very talented too

[rosetylxrs]

i will never stop being in awe of david tennants ability to have blindingly good chemistry with every single one of his co-stars

[gatitties]

hiii!! can I request some HCs for bonten!Mikey x Mother!Assassin!Reader where Reader and Mikey have a 17 years old secret love child. The scene is Bonten Executives and Assassin!Reader is eating in just yk a local ramen shop and Mikey is asking Reader that he wants to become a father to their child ykyk bcs reader kept it a secret that she was pregnant and raised the child all by herself T__T and when the school called Reader bcs their child stabbed a male student with scissors in their school, Sanzu said "I guess she took her mother's talent. you're in that age too, weren't you?" and reader just went batshit crazy bcs reader doesn't want her child to become like her </3 so reader threw a knife that got stuck in a wooden wall just close enough to make Sanzu's neck bleed a little and after that reader said "If you ever say that again, I'll kill you with the most dullest knife in the world." and then reader left. I WANT TO SEE MIKEY'S AND OTHER EXECUTIVES' REACTION TOO TO THIS HAPPENINGS IF THEY'RE GONNA GO CRAZY TOO OR WHATEVER 🤩🤩 thank u so much!

─Bonten!Mikey x mother!assassin!reader

─Summary: You don't like that your kid looks like you because you don't have the best manners or work

─Warnings: none

─ You weren't proud of your fame as a assassin in the underworld, but work was work.

─ Several years ago you got involved with the leader of Bonten, a one-night stand ended up being something and you started working as an executive for your boyfriend.

─ Although in a 'small accident' you ended up having a child, you weren't sure if Mikey would like to be a father considering his position in society, and despite the fact that you didn't have the best reputation either, you decided to take it on the sly.

─ How you managed to hide your child for seventeen years is a feat knowing the people you associated with, but you were grateful that they didn't poke their noses into your business and that Mikey was a busy man.

─ Of course, you were very lucky during all that time, but it came to an end and he decided to confront you for hiding from him that he had a child.

─ Although you had an argument about that, you reached a halfway point, Mikey wanted to take care of his child and get to know them, however you denied that your little baby knew the dark side of both.

─ Your kid was a little skeptical at first with their 'new' father, but they started to get along after a few months, becoming a relatively normal family if you ignored all the corpses you both carried on your back.

─ Of course, the other executives got to know your kid because it was more difficult to hide that the leader of Bonten was more absent, so now your kid had a few uncles.

─ Now… when they called from school because your 'baby' had fought, rather stabbed another child with scissors, you didn't know how to react, Mikey was the one who took charge of going to school while you stayed at home.

─ At that moment you were all eating, since you had invited them to your house, everyone listened but decided that they had nothing to comment until Sanzu had to open his mouth. "I guess they took their mother's talent, you're in that age too, weren't you?"

─ It took you a few seconds to analyze what the drug addict had dared to say, everyone knew that you didn't like that your kid was involved with the shit they did and you lost it.

─ You grabbed the first sharp object you had at hand, a knife, and you threw it in such a way that Sanzu's neck had a millimeter cut, the knife went past, sticking into the wall. "If you ever say that again, I'll kill you with the dullest knife in the world."

─ The table was silent except for Sanzu's complaints when being lightly treated by Kakucho, everyone looked at each other deciding to shut their mouths knowing that you were upset.

─ The Haitani brothers were trying not to burst out laughing at seeing how you humiliated their co-worker, Mochizuki, Takeomi and Kokonoi were amazed with your aim since they had never seen you doing your job, this scene would definitely be something to talk about if word gets out.

─ The tension in the room didn't go away until you saw your boyfriend and kid appear at the door, although now it was your turn to give your child a talk for having done that.

─ Mikey smiled when he found out what you had done, he wasn't angry about his child's attitude, he simply asked if they had won the fight or not (the result was obvious but he wanted to check it).

─ No one dared to comment on what happened that day and you punished your kid for a week.

[is-nini]

Thinking about Bimbo y/n who follows whatever her husband desire. Who didn't know that he is manipulating her life because y/n is only his. Who didn't know that he is controlling her every move.

You are dumb enough to believe him when he say that your life is "too pure" and that you needed him to protect you, you really think he is right. Your poor brain just trust him because he is a very respected man and he is rarely wrong right..?

He would daily make sure to see you at least one time per day even if it only lasted a few hour minimum, he would always make sure you and him have a talk.

The topic of the talk started off innocent such as "What did you eat today?", "How was work? Did your boss or your co-worker did anything weird?" to "Maybe it's better for us to live together. That way I could ensure your safety around me". Of course, when he bring up the topic of living together, you didn't think much of it. What he say's kind of makes sense.. maybe your land lord or your boss at work are not as kind as you think they are.

He slowly gaining your trust by giving you gifts, taking you out on dinner, while talking about how you are too talented and too precious to work. So you stopped working, after he promises you the 100th time telling you he could've helped with your living expense as long as you become his girl friend.

He did keep his promise, but as times went on you notice him being more and more protective.. but it's because he loves you so much! he said so you trust him blindly.

Being his girlfriend is not enough though. He started to create a little "drama" around you. You notice how people looked at you with disgust and anger- you don't know why, you swear you have never hurt someone!

That night you cry into your lover arm, crying and sobbing about how you have never done anything wrong and you never threaten anyone. In the midst of your cries, you didn't notice the small smirk grazing you lover's lips.

The next day, your boyfriend offer you that if you marry him, he is sure that everything will stopped because he can give you bigger protection as your husband and he can helped you more with you in his life.

His promises tricked you into portraying him as a safe space for you, and so without much thought you agree. The marriage was not grand but it is far from simple. A lot of high-status people attend your marriage in where those high-status people help you clear out your name. After all, you are his bride and you are just too innocent to be doing mean things.

In the end everything goes back to normal, but your life seems to be sweeter and happier. You never think about struggling, didn't think about anyone giving you disgust look because you're his bride now, and the good news is- the person who tried to frame you has been caught now! and you are free, all because of your dear lover you thought.

"Princess, I'm home" Your husband called out as your feet excitedly went up to him and kissing him. "Welcome home!" you giggle as he looks at you fondly. The smell of his dinner filled the room as he enter your home. He have maids to help him to clean the house but.. he ordered them to not let you notice them or talk to you. He is scared that outsider's might.. 'Taint' your pure soul, but of course to let you keep busy, he makes you his house wife who should just cook and accompany him work and never leave him.

"I cook your favorite food!" you excitedly talks and smile up at him. He pull you up, lifting you towards the dinner table as he sat you on top of his lap. "Mhm, you did baby. am' so proud" he talked to you happily, gushing about how cute and adorable you are.

You only know that your husband work as someone who have a high status and people either respect him or is scared of him. He keeps telling you that you don't have to know because it's too confusing for your cute little brain and told you to not worry.

Thus you lived happily, not knowing that every since you meet him, your life has been controlled by him. Every decision you made has been something that he has control over, but of course. You never have to know about that. You has become his after all.

Ayato, Diluc, Kaeya, Wriothesley, Childe, Lyney, Albedo, Pantalone, Toji Fushiguro, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Jing yuan

[superblysubpar]

A/N: for @newlips #newlipsmilestoneoflove event! congratulations cece - you're truly so talented & inspiring - thanks for always working hard to bring the community together. And thank you for bringing personaltrainer!steve into my life, I hope this version of him lives up to the hype! To my lovely girls - thanks for literally holding my hand and forcing me to post this, it wouldn't have even been written without your constant encouragement & hive brain help.

I Want It, Can't Have It

personaltrainer!steve x fem!reader

Summary: Your co-worker Steve and you refuse to admit defeat in a game of who will give into their suppressed feelings for the other first. | masterlist | steve's music | NSFW 18+

WC Range: 5k-10k

Warnings: use of Y/N, Y/L/N, and too many petnames / talk of jealousy & comparison / a woman showing too much skin in the 80s?! Good heavens! / smut (unprotected piv - creampie, ass slapping and teasing, asking to cum, & public - locked bathroom door but people def know)

The smell of chlorine and lemon disinfectant, flickering fluorescents overhead and the record breaking ton of body spray wafting down the hall are making the tiny men with jackhammers inside your head work overtime today. 

Hearing him before you see him, you shake out a second pain reliever - taking preventive measures for the headache that was only about to be made worse.  

Whistling a top forty track, blazer’s squeaking against the tile of the hall - because he refuses to pick up his feet when he’s around you, and the thwip of a towel smacking a coworker’s ass as they banter all fall to your ears as he rounds the corner. 

Steve fucking Harrington. 

Unsure why, the two of you quickly agreed on one thing and one thing only upon your very first introduction: you positively hated each other and would do everything in your power to make sure the other never forgot.  

Eyes trained on the staff clipboard you’re filling out for taking medicine from the first aid kit, you choose to ignore him as he grows closer. Pen scratching against the paper, your senses try to focus on writing out your full name instead of how good he smells. A hard thing to not notice when it’s compared to the hazardous waste for sweat from the teenage boys you’d been forced to endure for the better part of the last hour. 

Of course, he can’t help himself and has to ruin the one thing that brings you semi enjoyment when in his presence, clearing his throat and nodding once, without even looking at you, “Jane Fonda.”

The use of one of the nicknames he refuses to let up with has your teeth grinding as you clench your jaw, “Bite me, Harrington.”

Steve spins, toned and tanned arms folded on the desk above you as he raises his eyebrows and tilts his head, hazel eyes peering down at you with contempt, “Oh good, glad to see you’re in a swell mood as always.”

Shoving the clipboard back into its slot, you push back in the rolling chair, relishing in his clenched jaw when the wheel squeaks a little too loud - two can play at the causing a headache game. An exaggerated pout forming on your lips as you force a bubbly and higher tone, “Oh. I’m so sorry. Let me go curl my hair, pop on a bright pink lip, and add an extra little perky bounce to my step so you can ogle my ass in bright blue spandex.”

“Could ya?” Steve’s lips shift up into a lopsided smirk at you.

Huffing out a breath and crossing your arms, you can’t even get another jab in before his twelve o’clock bounces through the door. To neither of your surprise, she’s dressed exactly as you had just described - blonde hair piled high in a ponytail on the top of her head just like Barbie and just like you knew it would be. Watching Steve train her for the past several weeks has been nauseating to say the least. Her leg stretched up and over his shoulder, their smirks and less than subtle flirting, and her slaps and squeezes of his biceps in an eye twitch inducing sort of way. 

“Hi Steve,” her voice sugar and spice and everything you’re not as she blows a bright pink bubble with her gum. You’re surprised Steve doesn’t pop it for her as he leans in close enough, one elbow still on the desk.

“Well, don’t you look cute today,” his voice deeper and full of a charm that’s very lacking from the way he talks to you. 

Twelve o’clock Barbie beams and he gestures down the hallway, hand on her lower back as she brushes past him. Steve lets her trail ahead, tilting his head with a sigh as he watches her ass jiggle in all the right ways. 

Scoffing at him, you chuck a rolled towel directly at the side of his head and hiss, “You’re such a fucking pervert!”

Steve spins backwards, clutching his chest and groaning through a wide grin, “I love it when you talk dirty to me babe.”

Eyes narrowing at him as he high fives one of your coworkers as he turns back around, arm wrapping over the shoulders of Barbie. Her bright and bubbly laugh trails all the way down the hall back to you, “So, did you catch the game last night?”

Steve hums, “I don’t think so…which teams were playing?”

“Oh…uh…the Cubs?”

Rolling your eyes with a snort at her question of a response. 

Baseball. 

It’s fucking February. 

Randy, your co-worker, snickers and then looks at Dylan who rounded the corner as well, shaking his head, “Five bucks he pretends he did watch the game and does her in the locker room?”

Dylan laughs, sticking out his hand for a deal, “Ten if he gets her to tell him details of the nonexistent game too.”

The boys look at you laughing and don’t even try to hide their conversation or amusement with Steve the manwhore Harrington. You’re just one of the guys here, and something about this fact that’s never bothered you before, this interaction you’ve had many times already, is burning your blood a little more than you’d care to admit. 

Their words about her perfect hair, the curve of her ass in the spandex, and the low cut of the leotard are only flashing spotlights to your exact opposite features you can see in the reflection of the glass windows. Dull and sweat matted hair shoved under a baseball hat, dark and muted tones of your joggers and sweatshirt - which now has a stain on it from lunch. Curves don’t exist, your footwear is sensible, and your skin doesn’t have that perky glisten or glow - it’s sweaty and flushed in all the wrong ways. 

Yanking your whistle down from the hook, you push past the boys. You could care less about 12 o’clock Barbie and you’re happy with your life. Confident you don’t need someone like Steve Harrington in it to make you feel fulfilled because you are independent and have a clear and level head atop your shoulders. A man staring at your ass isn’t what you want, you want to be appreciated for your brains, personality, your interests - screw pretending to like baseball to get a guy to sleep with you. You want the one who knows you like it and genuinely wants to talk to you about it, baggy sweatshirt and all. 

But when you hear a giggle and see Steve and 12 o’clock Barbie sneaking into the bathroom your stomach somersaults and something in you snaps, shouting down the hall, “Harrington! Nobody’s paying you to sleep with clients!”

Steve freezes, his strained muscles and vein in his neck visible even at a distance and his face reddens. He’s pissed.

But he turns with a bright and forced smile as Barbie dips into the locker room with an inflamed face as well. Steve walks down the hall towards you, arms crossed and head tilted, “What the hell is your problem?”

You have a lot of problems. Number one being you don’t understand what possessed you to do that, but you can’t tell him that, obviously. Queen of thinking on your feet though, you cross your arms and cock your head, “Wouldn’t want you to lose your job for not being able to keep your dick in your pants is all, buddy.”

He scoffs loudly, stepping closer to you until your back hits the wall, “Really? I would’ve thought you were the first person wanting me out on my ass, Mary Lou.”

Rolling your eyes at the new nickname, you try to side step and get out of there but his hand pushes to the brick over your shoulder, caging you in. 

Steve towers over you, faces close together and he smirks as you squirm under his insistent gaze. Steve leans closer, “Oh, I get it,” he whispers, nose almost touching yours. He’s close enough for you to see his lashes, the gold flecks in his eyes, and the freckles that dot his nose. His breath mint and charm fanning across your cheeks as he continues, “You’re jealous.”

“As. Fucking. If,” you hiss at him, nose bumping his just barely as you lean forward and narrow your eyes. 

Steve and your shallow breaths mix and amplify in your ears, everything else muffled like it’s underwater. Fingers clenched into fists at your sides, Steve’s tongue dips out to lick his bottom lip. Yours part involuntarily, his eyes glint, the mossy color deepening to a mix of dangerous forest and stormy sea and god fucking dammit, you sigh. 

Someone, somewhere in the universe, slaps you in the face in the form of Barbie dipping out of the locker room and pulling both of your attention in a blur of turquoise. Steve’s arm drops and he steps back, a smile on his face again as he turns to her, “Hey babe, ready?”

He leaves with her and it isn’t until you see them disappear around the corner and you count to five that your muscles start to unfurl, fingers uncurling from where they had been pressing crescent moons into your palms. 

Your head falls back against the brick, “Shit.” 

Snapping the palette closed, you stare at the contents littering the counter of your bathroom, untypical for a weekday. 

No. You will not wear eyeshadow to your job at a gym. 

With time to reflect on what happened with Steve on Friday, you’d only stewed and steamed more about Barbie. Steve calling you jealous? Of what? Her perfect hair and skin and body and that she was the one who got his eyes to linger?

Please. 

Steve just loves that you’re not drooling and falling over yourself for him - a challenge, a toy he can’t have. You’ve worked with him and the boys long enough and they’re all the same. They love having a pretty thing wrapped around their arm, a token to remind them they’re a winner, because it’s all just a game. They live for the rush of the chase and the high of someone screaming their name like a stadium full of fans. And you know without a doubt, Steve calling you jealous and the incident on Friday was his tip of the ball to his side of the court. He wants you to beg for it. And you’re not going to do that, because you know that it’s actually Steve who wants you. 

Smirking, you pull out an outfit you’ve yet to wear to work, a little giddy from the plan that’s slowly formulating. Steve isn’t the only one who knows a thing or two about playing games, and it’s time to show him who he’s up against. 

As typical with Steve, he shows up after you to work that day. He’s always balancing a gym bag on his shoulder, jacket slung across only one arm like he couldn’t bother to finish putting it on, hair in disarray (spending the first half hour of his shift fixing it in the bathroom) and a bagel hanging between his lips, dropping sesame seeds across the floor. 

Normally, Steve won’t even blink twice in your direction upon arrival. If he does, it’s only because you’ve gotten in his way, demanded he pick up the bagel crumbs, or you’ve done something else in the minute you’ve been in each other’s presence to annoy one another. Enough for him to remove the bagel and actually banter with you verbally instead of a grunt. 

Today though, his blazers squeak to a sharp stop and much to your delight, the bagel falls out of his mouth and hits the floor, egg sliding out and splatting and echoing in the quiet entryway. 

Grabbing your whistle and heading towards the gym for the morning meeting, you brush past him, looking over your shoulder as you call, “You better clean that up!”

A smirk still sits on your lips as you enter the gym and the conversation of all of the boys stops. Rolling your eyes at their lack of subtlety in analyzing your new look, you take your normal seat and start peeling a banana. Clearing your throat loudly, before small conversations pick up again. 

“You look nice today, Y/N,” Dylan, who’s sitting next to you mumbles. He picks at a loose thread of his joggers, eyes flitting up to yours and back down to his pants. 

Really, your outfit is not that crazy. It’s still in your color palette of cooler tones, you’re not even wearing spandex for crying out loud. A little bit of midriff showing has these boys blushing more than they ever have around you, and it’s hard to hide your amusement at how easily your plan is being implemented without barely lifting a finger. 

Humming, you blink up at him innocently, “Thank you Dylan.”

He coughs into his fist, “Ye-yeah. Did you…did you do something different with your hair?”

Tilting your head at him, you time your laugh perfectly to Steve walking in, “No, nothing different with my hair…”

Dylan watches you, eyes eager on your mouth as you lift the banana up to your lips. Slowly taking a bite, you keep eye contact with him. Fluttering your eyelashes and humming around the fruit, his mouth falls open a little and it takes everything in you not to snort. Especially when a hand makes contact with the back of Dylan’s head and Steve’s bored tone falls directly behind you, “Are you twelve?”

Dylan’s cheeks turn pink and he turns sharply to the front of the room and you nudge his knee with yours, reassuring him it’s okay, before turning to face forward too. A small smile sitting on his lips and you relish in Steve’s sigh behind you. 

Unfortunately, Steve seems to realize what you’re doing far sooner than you anticipated. 

As your boss begins the meeting, hot breath fans across your neck, his voice low and barely audible even with his lips just brushing your ear, “Nice try.”

Your body betrays you and a chill runs down your spine, causing a shiver despite the embarrassed and irritated heat trying to reach every corner of your skin. You know if you turn around you’ll be face to face with a smug look and crossed muscular arms, so you don’t put yourself through the misery. 

Steve is better at this, you hate to say it, but it just means you have to think of new ideas for your playbook. 

Your clothes only get tighter and expose more skin each day. You’re playing dirty: leaning over him to grab a clipboard so your chest brushes against his arm, bending down to tie your shoe right in front of him, and at one point you tugged on the whistle around Dylan’s neck right in front of him before swaying your hips as you left him standing there shaking his head. But Steve barely broke, a tough competitor with a good defense and even better offense. Steve’s hand found your lower back in passing, brushing a piece of hair from your cheek, and his flirting with Barbie and other clients only got more obvious which you didn’t think was possible. 

A week of going head to head with Steve in these little games all to prove that you weren’t jealous and it was him that wanted you. But, he was still determined it was the other way around, waiting for you to beg, to wave the white flag and just let him win. Today was your final straw, pulling out all of the stops - black spandex biker shorts and a black sports bra with, much as you hated to do it, a face full of makeup and hair styled. 

When you arrive at work on Friday, you have to actively focus on keeping your composure around Steve because it seemed he was taking a final stand in this war as well - black baseball hat, shirtless while playing basketball, his shorts slung low on his hips. 

You hate him. 

Friday’s were slow though, thankfully, and had Steve and you basically switching jobs, you with clients and him in the gym - away from each other for most of the day. Or at least, you should be away from one another for most of the day. 

Filling out a form while leaning against the counter, Steve’s voice draws your attention, “Hey, Muscles.”

A smile twitches on your lips and you look up to see him pulling a gray shirt on as he approaches, eyes lingering on the lines of his stomach, the trail of hair leading to a black elastic band peeking out of his shorts. 

Turning your body towards him, you relish in his own lingering gaze over you as you tilt your head, “Muscles? That’s a new one. And, dare I say, a compliment?”

Steve leans against the counter, squeezing water from his bottle into his mouth, some dribbling out, and you hate that you want to lick the small bead of water directly off of his skin. He shrugs, trying to act nonchalant and turns his hat backwards before facing the counter. Drumming his fingers against it aimlessly, he glances at you out of the corner of his eye and sighs before admitting, “Well, you have been showing them off a bit more this week.”

Rising onto your toes, you drop the pen on the other side of the desk and risk a glance back at him. But he’s too busy staring down at your ass and you whisper, “Seen anything else you’ve liked this week?”

Steve’s eyes dart up to yours quickly, licking his lips as his hands land on top of his hat, his arms flexing as he breathes out a quiet laugh that ends in a groan, “Fuck.”

A smile worthy of a championship victory fills your face and he rolls his eyes. Before either of you can say anything, the voice of your boss hollers loudly across the room, “Y/L/N!”

“Yes sir?” turning to face him, you stand up a little straighter at his tone and quickly forming scowl.

He sighs as he approaches and glances at Steve who attempts to keep himself busy with a clipboard a few steps away. Your boss is nice, stuck in that sort of manly man kind of world and opinions, but nice nonetheless. You do good work and you’ve never had this sort of look opposite of you. He rubs his temples and he sighs, “I need you to find a change of clothes.”

Snorting before you realize he’s serious, he crosses his arms and you match him, your mouth dropping open as you ask, “Are you serious? Why?”

“Listen, just, this is a professional work environment and you’re showing a lot of skin and I need you to-”

Holding your hand up, you interrupt him, “That is absolutely ridiculous. No.”

He groans and grabs a stack of clipboards, “Don’t get upset, please. You’re a good worker and I don’t want to write you up but-”

Your laughter is loud and you throw an arm out to Steve who’s failing to pretend he’s not listening, “So Harrington can basically have his dick in a client, but I can’t show my shoulders and stomach?”

“Y/L/N! Enough! Get a sweatshirt. This is your only warning.” He walks away with the clipboards and you’re left seething, kicking the counter with a grunt. 

Forgetting that Steve was even there to witness all of that, you’re reminded when a piece of fabric brushes your shoulder. Eyes snapping to his, you glare at him, yanking it from his outstretched hand and stalking away before he can give you any sort of pity. 

Fingers brushing under your lashes, you refuse to cry about any of it, screw this place, screw your boss and screw Steve. It’s his fault you changed how you looked. It’s his fault your boss doesn’t take you seriously now. It’s Steve’s fault that you let a “victory” over something so stupid and juvenile cloud you from your work and your values. You changed your clothes, your appearance, and your attitude, and for what? To prove Steve likes a different version of you? Does it even feel good knowing you got his attention?

Pulling the sweatshirt on, you hate that you recognize that it’s his from the smell filling your senses. Hands shove themselves inside the pockets and they brush against a piece of paper. A folded sheet from a notebook with your initial on the front, you pull it open to see ‘Meet me. Bathroom. -Steve’.

Scoffing, you shove it back in the pocket and storm off towards the staff bathroom. He’s so full of himself, probably expecting to swoop in and comfort you and still score. You slam the door open and he jumps, grabbing at his chest before resting his hands on his knees.

“Jesus Christ, could kill a guy with an entrance like that.”

Closing the door and leaning against it, you cross your arms and hiss, “What do you want, Harrington?”

He stands and mirrors your stance, leaning against the sink as he shrugs, “I wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

“I’m fine. Thanks for the sweatshirt. Anything else?” you don’t make any movements to leave despite your better judgements.

He leans his hands back on the counter, smirking, “Well, I couldn’t help but overhear you’ve been thinking about my dick.”

Pushing yourself off of the door, you snort, “Seriously? Do you really think I still want to sleep with you?”

Steve’s smirk widens, lips upturned slightly higher on one side in a signature lopsided grin, “Still?”

Your hand points at him, stopping any sort of thoughts from running away, “No. Listen. Steve, you only started to give me the time of day when I dressed differently, when I acted like those other girls and I hate to break it to you, but I am and never will be like Barbie.”

Steve takes a step closer, toes of your shoes touching and he reaches for your wrist, thumb brushing over the skin tenderly in a way you never expected from him as he shakes his head, “You’re crazy if you think I wasn’t staring at your ass before this week, Florence.”

Heart thrumming at his admission, you tilt your head at the new name, “Florence?”

Steve’s fingers brush up your forearm, gliding under his sweatshirt, “Griffith-Joyner? Flo-Jo?”

Breath hitching, you’re starting to wonder if he’s looking up these women on purpose. Thoughts of Steve researching or deciding new names to call you outside of work sends electric jolts straight to your heart. He can’t know, and you can’t let him think you’re falling for any of this and you start to pull away. His fingers are on your shoulder now and he sighs. From how his eyes are peering directly into your soul, you know he already knows that you’re hooked - line and sinker. 

He pulls you closer, fingers on the back of your neck, the other hand reaching up to cradle your jaw and his nose nudges yours, “Say you want this.”

Your hands work on their own accord, pushing up his chest to around his neck, head craning to arch back, rising on your toes slightly as your lips catch his barely as you breathe out, “You first.”

His hand on your neck squeezes lightly, laughing a little into your parted lips, “Fuck, you’re so stubborn.”

Steps falling backwards, your shoes are being kicked off your feet, “Wh-what time is it?”

Steve blinks at you, barely pulling away, his body pressing you against the door now, “What?”

Your hands find his hips, fingers dipping under the elastic waistband, “I have a 2 o’clock appointment.”

Steve breathes out, bottom lip catching your top one, “Shit, yeah, I’ll be…I’ll be fast.”

Laughing, your hands push at his shorts, “Is that supposed to impress me Harring-”

“Fuck, just shut up,” he commands, mouth swallowing the end of your sentence in a kiss. 

Steve’s thumb brushes against your jaw as your mouths move with each other’s quickly, like that first sip of water after hours of sweating. Steve kisses you like it’s the first and the last, somehow tender and forceful, fingers tangling in your hair while his tongue pushes against yours. 

Pants shed quickly, his other hand rubs against the front of your already wet underwear and he moans into your lips. Breaking away, you finish pulling his boxers down and bite your lip as the swollen red tip of his length twitches under your touch. 

Steve’s fingers tug your underwear aside, finger running up and down through your slick in a way that makes your legs buckle. His breath is shallow against your skin, foreheads touching but you can still see his smirk, “Think you can handle it, pretty girl?”

Fingers wrapping around his length, you roll your eyes and ignore the way the ‘pretty girl’ makes your stomach flutter alive with a swarm of butterflies, “Please, it’s not that big.”

Steve laughs, a little too loudly, and your other hand slaps over his mouth. His eyes sparkle above you, gold flecks that seem like your own little personal spotlights, lighting you up in a way you didn’t dare dream of. 

You are fucked. 

But he can’t know that, he can’t win. Because despite the way his fingers dipping into your entrance suddenly has you gasping and your eyes rolling, the way your thumb swipes over his leaking tip has the same effect on him. It’s an even playing field and you’re determined to make him sweat a little more. 

Your hands move around his neck, pulling his mouth to yours, “You have five minutes to prove me wrong, Harrington, think you can handle the pressure?”

Steve’s hands find your hips and lift you, your legs wrapping around his waist like you’ve done it hundreds of times before and he looks down at them with raised eyebrows, “Have you done this before?”

“Four minutes and forty eight seconds Steven,” you catch his bottom lip and he moans. 

His fingers hold your underwear aside as he rolls his hips, coating his dick in your slick with a few swipes through you, tip catching your clit before sliding back down and pushing into you forcefully and without warning. He catches your scream and gasps with his mouth, nodding against you as he slowly continues to push into you. Your fingers grip the back of his head, causing his hat to fall off, as your head smacks into the door behind you, back arching away from it. Steve’s hands on your hips hold you steady, fingers digging into the plush skin of your ass as they caress down and cup it. 

Once he’s fully inside of you, and your breathing seems to slow again, he pulls his mouth away just enough to whisper, “Knew ya could handle it.”

“Four…fuck…minutes” his hips roll against yours and a moan echos across the tiles and the distinct sound of a click of the lock as his hand reaches below you. 

Your body heats with embarrassment, you hadn’t even thought about locking the door and Steve knows it. Your fingers tug at the back of his head in an effort to gain control again, yanking it a little too forcefully and he growls as you hiss, “Gonna move or not?”

Steve’s hands move back to your hips after giving your ass a harsher squeeze, pulling out of you slowly, “Are you ever not bossy?”

Before you can reply he’s pushing back into you, smirking at the way your mouth falls open and no sound leaving it as he hits the deep spot inside of you quickly. He continues his slow pulls and forceful pushes, the muscles of his shoulder tensing, able to feel each twitch and move under your hands through his shirt. His fingertips bruise your hips, dragging your slick walls back and forth across his length at an agonizing pace. Your legs locked around his waist, you glance down to where your bodies connect, the sight of your slick coating the rough patch of hair at his base making your walls clench around him tighter. Steve’s breath hits your neck, squeezing your hips even harder as he gasps out against your temple. 

Smirking at his weakening defenses, you hide your own insatiable desire, teasing, “Harder, Steve.”

The boy whimpers, nose pressing into the sweat slick skin of your neck as his hips pick up their pace. The sounds of your shallow breaths mix with the sharp slapping of your skin, and he groans, “Fuck-I can’t…I can’t-”

“Come on, Steve, this is the best you can do? I thought you do this all the ti-”

He’s had it with your teasing finally it seems, and he pulls out of you harshly, arm wrapping around your waist to spin you before yanking you back against his chest. 

Wet lips brush your jaw from behind, arm squeezing in a warning around your stomach, “Tell me what to do again. See what happens.”

Biting the inside of your lip, you don’t trust your voice to not give away the tidal wave of arousal that’s threatening to crack the dams you have in place. A breath out through your nose before you whisper, “Don’t be mean.”

He laughs against your neck, lips dragging down and awaking a sea of goosebumps to rise across your skin. He speaks into the sweat kissed dip of your shoulder, “So, she dishes it out, but can’t take it?”

Before you can even respond, Steve’s pushing your back, chest falling to the counter in front of you as his hands find your hips. His voice is stronger, deeper, rougher as he commands, “Open.”

Your head falls forward, eyes squeezing shut at his tone, thighs sticky and pushed together tightly from the arousal that’s reached its breaking point with barely any touching and a simple word.  

The swollen and wet tip of his cock presses into your ass as he squeezes your hips, “Baby, don’t make me say it again.”

Every time he’s called you a name other than an athlete has you seeing stars already, wanting to keep playing the game to see how many more you can collect. Pressing yourself against him, you arch your back as you pout, “A please would be nice.”

His hand connects with your ass, a sharp smack that echoes and stings as he mocks, “Please?”

Legs falling open easily, he slides himself through your slick, dragging and coating his tip in your arousal even more, you know you’ve lost, because he’s the one with the power now. His hand pushes between your shoulder blades, the other gripping the dough of a cheek, slapping it again as his tip bumps your swollen nerves with a precision you know is one hundred percent on purpose and stupidly accurate. 

Without warning again, Steve pushes into your entrance, a cry stopped by the press of your teeth into your bottom lip as your fingers grasp for purchase on the flat surface beneath you. 

Steve’s agonizing pace from earlier is gone, slamming his body against yours in a brutal and bruising speed. Your hands start to push against the counter and Steve’s hand drags down your spine, pushing on your lower back gently in contrast to his forceful command, “Don’t move.”

Walls tightening around his cock at his tone, the sounds of him pulling and pushing into your dripping center mix with the quiet bump of your knees hitting the cabinet in front of you rhythmically.   

His fingers not on your back knead into the plush skin of your ass after smacking it lighter than before, but still hard enough for you to tighten around him again. He moans, huffing a long breath out of his nose, “Fuck, like being told what to do, huh?”

Hips never stopping their harsh thrusts, your breath sticks in your chest as you keep your moans stifled, threatening to bubble up and past your lips as he smacks the same spot again, the sting coating your lashes in wetness as he whispers, “I asked you a question babe.”

It’s a breath, and if you couldn’t see yourself in the mirror in front of you, you may not have even realized you admitted it, “Yes.”

Steve’s fingers trail from their soothing kneading against the red skin, to your hip, brushing down your thigh and back up. His hips roll and he picks up his pace, humming out a content sigh at your admission. His eyes lock on yours in the mirror and he smirks, “So good for me, being such a - shit,” his eyes close as you push your ass back against him, slipping him in deeper than before, fingers dragging on the cool counter. He grunts through the rest of his sentence, “You’re so mean to me, but this is what you wanted all along, yeah?”

Moaning at his question, your eyes squeeze closed, the coil inside of your stomach pulled tight, body vibrating and chasing that breaking point until you have to release. He leans forward, brushing his lips against your shoulder, hands back to your hips as he hits that deep spot inside of you repeatedly with bruising accuracy. Steve smiles against your skin, “You act all disgusted by me too, and turns out,” his lips and nose glide across your muscles, warm breath fanning across your skin and his fingers brush back up to your hips as his mouth opens more against you, trailing to your neck. His breath shoots the tightening in your stomach into overdrive and a whine falls from your parting lips as his fingers adjust on your hips, whispering, “You’re just as much of a slut as I am.”

Eyes fluttering and breath hitching at his comment, your back arches up again, but not far enough before he presses his weight against you. Pushing himself faster and to a spot that feels like you can feel him rearranging your guts and you both moan loudly, his breath hitting your neck in a way that has your fingers searching for purchase beneath them, whining louder and your knees aching to collapse. 

Steve gasps harshly, sucking in a deep breath he can’t quite finish, the sound directly in your ear and before another moan can break past your lips, his hand is coming up to press over your mouth. Your eyes rolling back as he whispers against the shell of your ear, “Be good baby. Wouldn’t want anyone to get fired for not keeping their dick in their pants, right?”

Nodding your head as he slowly lets his hand go. Your sighs quiet until his other hand wraps around your waist, pressing the pads of his fingertips into your swollen button. You jolt at the stimulation he had yet to reward you with, knees losing their battle and buckling, Steve holds you up, grunting as you cry out quietly, “St-steve.”

Somehow quickening his pace, his thumbs circular motions match perfectly to the rhythm of his hips, “Quiet, come on, babe, thought you were good at following instructions.”

Whimpering as he thrusts into you harder, your body fully collapsing against the counter, cheek pressed to the cool of the stone underneath it. Steve’s swirls to your swollen nerves are the breaking point, the added weight that breaks you from pushing it any further, unable to do another rep and your lashes wet, “Steve, I’m gonna - fuck, I-”

He can feel you tightening around him, his own hips stuttering but the game isn’t over yet. His mouth drags down your neck and another shiver runs through you as he smirks into your shoulder, “A please would be nice.”

And with your own sentence thrown back at you, he’s won.

Eyes opening, you see his own watching your body swallow everything he gives it eagerly. Standing back up fully, his cheeks flushed pink, hair sweeping across his forehead. His fingers dig into your hips as his bottom lip pulls between his teeth. His head falls backwards, breath huffed out of his nose. 

“Please.”

Unsure if he says it again or it’s you, both of you collapse into the feeling of releasing. His thumb continues its circling as his hips stutter un-rhythmically. Both of you gasping out for breath as your walls milk his release and your body relaxes into its own. Muscles unfurling, fingers flattening to the counter, back arching as his hand caresses down your spine in buzzing tenderness. Meeting gazes in the mirror again, his chest heaves in time with yours and your rolling eyes are met with a widening grin on his face. 

A loud knock comes from the door and you both jump, your hand slapping over your mouth as Dylan’s voice calls through the closed door, “Y/N! You in there? Mr. Conners has been out in the lobby for ten minutes!”

Steve leans forward, grabbing your hand from across your mouth. He presses it down, covering it on the counter with his large one. His other squeezes your hip as he stays buried inside of you. He nips at your neck and you squeak out, “Uh-I, I’m not feeling well, can someone else do it?”

A huff on the outside of the door and Steve’s mouth starts sucking a bruise into the skin below your ear and you smirk, calling out more confidently, “I bet Steve could! He’s not doing anything today!”

Steve pinches your waist and you yelp, walls tightening around him and he moans loudly at the feeling, still sensitive from his release. Reaching up awkwardly from your still bent position, you flick the side of his head. 

A louder sigh from the other side of the door and a groan, “Man, fuck you Harrington. I know you’re in there with her!”

Steve and your laughter is hard to keep quiet as Dylan kicks the door, his voice trailing off as he walks away, “You just can’t let anyone else win can you? You two deserve each other.”

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought, and I hope you consider reblogging my work to get it circulated to new readers - thanks for being here 💛

Steve Tag List: @boomhauer @loveshotzz @myobmaya @sweetsweetjellybean @pastel-pillows @littlesubbyflower @edsforehead

[spirit-girl-nijisanji]

Rivals or so they thought

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➼ Pairing - Luca Kaneshiro x GN!Vtuber Reader

➼ Content - Established relationship, Playful rivalry, fluff & hopefully half correct translations (I know Japanese, a little bit of Swedish and the others I'm still a beginner in but I'm learning so if something isn't translated right, I apologize, I tried my best~! English translations will be included :3)

➼ Ft. Ike Eveland, Ver Vermillion, Vezalius Bandage, Enna Alouette, Mika Melatika, Nina Kosaka and Reimu Endou

➼ ⚠️ Please remember I only write for the personas you see on your screen. I do not and will not write for the people behind the models. Please also remember that behind the models there are very real people with very real emotions. Please be respectful towards our beloved Nijisanji EN livers and do your best to separate the real people from the persona reflected on your screen. Thank you so much and enjoy the story ⚠️

➼ Summary - You debuted in Nijisanji as another mob boss. You were known as Luca's rival in your lore. Behind the scenes, your lore couldn't be more wrong. And it all comes out during one stream... ─═──═──═──═──═──═──═──═──═──═──═──═──═──═──═

Today was the day you debuted, you sat at your desk going through your slide show, letting the viewers get to know you;

" As you know from my lore, I am another mob boss. " You said with a smile looking at your character reference sheet before looking over at the chat;

Chat: ChairKun223: Luca's rival right? What's that like YVT/N?

You couldn't help but smile at the question, adjusting yourself in the chair you hummed softly thinking about a good response,

" I admire him, he and I are polar opposites. He's always smiles. I know when to be serious when it counts. He views his work as play. " You said trying to sound bitter. The image of your golden retriever like lover popped into your head and you had to fight back a fond smile to stay in character for your debut.

You spent the next hour going through the rest of the slide show and talking to chat. Finally ending, your door flung open and your chair was spun around before you were grabbed up off the chair and spun around in a tight hug;

" YOU WERE SO POG BABE! " The one and only Luca Kaneshiro beamed hugging you tight and spinning you around. Your laughs echoed in the room hugging him back.

Despite being rivals in your lore, you were the blond mafia boss's lover and you had been with him long before you debuted, hell you've been together long before HIS debut. He adored you and you adored him. It was hard not to, his puppy like personality and his sense of humor. You two just clicked. Of course your friends and co workers knew about your relationship with Luca and they fully supported you, you hadn't made your relationship public so neither the Lucubs or your community knew about you and Luca.

" Thank you my love! I could hear you watching my stream in the living room. " You said with a cheeky smile, causing him to blush ever so lightly. He set you back down on the floor and he place a soft loving kiss on your cheek.

" I wish we didn't have to hide our relationship! The Lucubs would be so happy that we're together! " Luca whined and grasped your shoulders shaking you lightly.

" I know, me too but gotta make the lore seem real ya goof. " You replied holding onto his wrists as he shook you lightly as not to hurt you.

The next year was full of so many fun collabs with Luca and other streamers. You always had so much fun with the other NIJI EN members. Spending time with them both on streams and outside of streams. You remembered being a simple viewer at one point, watching the NIJI EN talents and wishing you could do what they do and be apart of their world (Little mermaid reference XD ANYWAYS-). And not long after Luca introduced you to Tazumi san, you were given an opportunity to audition and be apart of NIJI EN which you jumped at right away. When you were accepted, Luca was over the moon. He couldn't stop talking about it for days and he even helped you get a model commission and helped you write your lore.

There came a day when you organized a goose goose duck collab, wanting to do another collab with language switch ups, You invited Ike, Ver, Vezalius, Enna, Mika, Nina and Reimu and Luca wanted to tag along and watch the game in VC, you being the sucker you are, agreed to let him sit in. And of course you assigned each a language, You would be sticking with Japanese, Ike had Swedish, Ver had Korean, Zali had French, Enna had Chinese, Mika had Indonesian, Nina had Russian and Reimu was given Spanish. Since you had watched the other collab the language switch up was used in, you knew this was about to get chaotic but you were also incredibly excited. Everything was set up and stream started;

" Alright~! Hello everyone! So as you can see, we're doing another goose goose duck stream with the language twist, so would everyone like to introduce themselves in the languages they were given? " You asked with a smile, Ver deciding to start out;

" Hi everyone, my name is Ver Vermillion, I'm speaking in Korean! 안녕하세요 여러분! 내 이름은 Ver Vermillion, 저는 한국어로 말하고 있습니다! (Hi everyone, my name is Ver Vermillion, I'm speaking in Korean!) "

Ike jumped in straight after Ver,

"Hello everyone, I am Ike Eveland, a Virtual Novelist from Nijisanji EN and part of Luxiem! And one more time, I am talking Swedish. Hej alla, jag är Ike Eveland, a virtuell romanförfattare från Nijisanji EN och en del av Luxiem! Och en gång till, jag är talar Svenska. (Hello everyone, I am Ike Eveland, a virtual novelist from Nijisanji EN and part of Luxiem! And one more time, I am talking Swedish.) "

Zali followed suit with his introduction,

" Hi, hi everyone! My name is Vezalius Bandgae or Zali and today I am speaking French! Salut, Salut tout le monde~! Mon nom est Vezalius Bandage ou Zali et aujourd’hui Je suis parlant français! (Hi, Hi everyone! My name is Vezalius Bandage or Zali and today I am speaking French!) "

Next was Nina,

" Hello, my name is Nina Kosaka. Russaian will be my language. Привет, Меня зовут Nina Kosaka. Русский будет быть мой язык ( Hello, my name is Nina Kosaka. Russian will be my language.) "

Then came Mika,

" My name is Mika Melatika. I speak Indonesian. Nama saya Mika Melatika. Saya berbicara Indonesia (My name is Mika Melatika. I speak Indonesian.) "

Enna chimed in,

" Hello, my name is Enna Alouette. I speak Mandarin Chinese. 你好, 我叫 Enna Alouette. 我说话 普通话 中文. (Hello, my name is Enna Alouette. I speak Mandarin Chinese.) "

Now Reimu jumped in,

" Hello my name is Reimu Endou~! I have been chosen to speak Spanish. Hola mi nombre es Reimu Endou~! He sido elegido para hablar español. (Hello my name is Reimu Endou~! I have been chosen to speak Spanish.) "

And finally you gave your introduction,

" Good morning everyone~! My name is YVT/N! I speak Japanese for this collaboration~! おはようございます 皆さん~! 私の名前は YVT/N! 私は日本語を話します 対して これ コラボ~! (Good morning everyone~! My name is YVT/N! I speak Japanese for this collaboration~!) "

And of course no line of introductions would be complete if Luca didn't chime in to introduce himself,

" HIIIIII GUYS! I'm Luca Kaneshiro! I am just gonna be spending some time in the VC while my game downloads and if it finishes before the collab is over, YVT/N said I could speak backwards so I'm not completely understood, POGGGGGGGGG!!! " He said happily causing the rest of the people in the collab to snicker at his enthusiasm.

" Right~! With introductions out of the way, let's get the first round started! Good luck everyone~! " You beamed as the game began.

And of course, as expected, it was complete chaos. There was zero understanding between anyone. You were walking around trying to find a task before stopping, seeing Enna and Nina having some sort of stand off but not understanding a word either woman was saying.

Within a few rounds, Luca finally was able to join into the fun. The new round started, You ran past Ver being chased yelling in Korean by Ike who was yelling in Swedish but of course you didn't understand what either of them were saying. Before running into Luca who was standing over a dead Enna,

" LUCA! 殺しましたか Enna!? (LUCA! Did you kill Enna?!) " You said backing away

" Tahw?! I nod't dnatsrednu tahw ruoy gniyas TVY/N! (What?! I don't understand what your saying YVT/N!) " Luca stammered out, barely able to get through a sentence.

Hearing Luca struggle at getting a sentence out backwards was enough to cause you to snicker,

" 体の上に立つ Luca! 他に誰が殺しただろう Enna?! (Your standing over a body Luca! Who else could have killed Enna?!) " You said quickly going to report Enna's body.

⚠️ EMERGENCY MEETING ⚠️

" 私は見つけた Luca 立っている Enna's 体! (I found Luca standing over Enna's body!) " You spoke out

" Nina jagade mig! (Nina was chasing me!) " Ike called out

" Мне показалось, что я вижу Ike убей кого-нибудь, чтобы я последовал за ним (I thought I saw Ike kill someone so I followed him) " Nina said trying to be heard over the wave of voices

You could see your chat going nuts over the complete chaos this collab was. No one could understand each other and communication was just dead in the water. As the round went on, people were voted out and in the end, the goose ended up winning and the goose turned out to be Ver. Back in the lobby, voices rung out and everyone was finally able to understand each other, everyone was laughing. Luca walked over to you and spoke,

" BABE! I TOLD YOU IT WASN'T ME THAT KILLED ENNA! " He yelled, faking being hurt

It took a second to realize what Luca had said but when it registered, you looked back to your chat.

Chat: Chairkun223: DID LUCA JUST CALL YVT/N BABE?! YVT/NSimp: OH MY GOD Luca'sJacket44: ARE THEY TOGETHER?! LucaxYVT/NOTP: AWWWH~!

Your jaw hit your desk and you couldn't help but nervous laugh,

" L...luca, we're still live. " you said, your eyes still glued on your chat

" What? What I say? " He asked before he looked at his own chat and realized his mistake.

Both chats were going wild with questions and people squealing over the fact that YVT/N and Luca were a couple. It took a few seconds before the others in the collab realized what happened since you and Luca had gone silent. The rest of the collab was filled with you and Luca trying to go the rest of the collab without looking at the chats, each time you ran into another person in the collab, you could only assume they were teasing you since you couldn't understand a word being said.

The end of the collab came, everyone said their goodbyes and you said goodbye to chat, Luca ran in and hugged you apologizing for outting the relationship during the collab and of course you reassured him that it was okay.

From then on, Luca made sure he was incredibly loving even in streams, he was shameless in letting chat know how amazing he thought you were and how much he loved you.

[hunny-pp]

i've been forgetting to yap abt it, but i think there's smth crazy abt the dynamic between su jue and yu ran (as if you can't tell w my fervent shipping of them)

read more for length

the clear black and white visual designs between them but within that they have the shared colour of similar shades of purple, in a way showing that they balance and compliment each other. Yu Ran representing light and justice while Su Jue is his shadow, doing all the dirty deeds - but I like that the reason why they work together so well is because they have a bit of that light and darkness in the other

like there's something INSANE about yu ran over the fact that he KNEW that su jue could take on masculine disguises (and almost exclusively we've only rly seen her w the exception of being yu xu disguise herself as men) and KEPT HIS MOUTH SHUT when his co-workers were explaining that her one weakness is her inability to disguise as men.

he was willing to let a powerful political and his superior get murdered, resulting in another man becoming a scapegoat for her. Granted, he went through that moral length so she can get some kind of justice for the abuse she went through by li tiangang, as well as knowing that if she went through with her original plan she would have been framed as a scapegoat and it'd set back esper rights by MILES, but he also WANTED the talent she possesses. He has a very ruthless side, succinctly put by his go/chess analogy of making the necessary sacrifices.

the reason why he thought so highly of su jue despite her terrible reputation, it's because he could see she has good in her, he knows she's always had a desire to use her powers to stand up for the little guy, to toy and mock with people who abuse their power. She was the person that INSPIRED Yu Ran to start standing up for himself, and to start wanting to do that for other people, leading him to be a politician. That compassion hidden within su jue is what ultimately convinced her to take the high road and let revenge run its course without her interference, inadvertently saving her life.

In the same way su jue does a lot of dirty work and is a lot more ruthless in ways yu ran cannot be for the sake of his personal values or public image as a gentle and benevolent politician, Yu Ran ALSO did some shady shit in order to save her life, letting someone important get murdered and another man imprisoned for it just by keeping quiet about the truth of su jue and convincing her (with yu xu to help) to take the high road. It goes both ways, it's why they work.

also just some other things that come from my shipping brainrot:

su jue liking the colour ivory for its purity (i wonder who's the same colour.....................)

also doing the gay mirrored single earring thing

yu ran's horns and su jue's tails almost opposite in the color wheel, and i know in some pieces, yu ran's horns are much greener too

also the inherent symbolism and dynamic of the fox vs deer....predator vs prey animal.........

anyway this is my yapping abt why im so obsessed with su jue/yu ran💖, if anyone's got context or a way i can watch the story events where yu ran's got his titties out and is tied up bc i stopped playing around there, much appreciated i need it for my fuel

[thevillainswhore]

A Second Chance: Part 1

Pairing: Ex-Husband!Nick Fowler x Ex-Wife!Reader

Summary: Love just wasn’t enough to keep your marriage together - Nick’s restless ambition to get the promotion in his career ended up driving an everlasting wedge between the two of you, and resulting in divorce. But when you come back home to New York after three years away in London, can Nick win back your heart?

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Mentions of s-exually explicit content, flashbacks, lots of fluff, maybe a tiny bit of angst? nothing too huge (yet).

A/N: Beta’d by @sgt-seabass, headers made by @saradika - so excited to be able to share my first story with you all! I had so much encouragement and support to begin writing and I appreciate it so much 💗 this is part one! not sure how many parts there will be altogether, but we go with it anyway 🤣 hope you enjoy!

People often asked Nick if he had heard of you before.

An Agent Recruitment Officer for Shield - hand picked by Fury himself for your hard ass attitude, along with a talent for training basic, low-level recruits and transforming them into the best agents anyone had seen.

A true force to be reckoned with.

Your name was in the whispers of the high-ranks of the CIA, impressed enough with your work ethic for offers to be thrown at you to join their team, only for you to politely decline ‘due to your loyalty to your own agency’. So of course Nick - a higher class CIA agent in the running for a director promotion at the time - had heard of you. The legend bestowed upon you didn’t allow many to wonder who you were.

But he would never forget the first time he met you.

A private gala to celebrate the new batch of Shield Agents cleared for active duty was an annual event - members from all agencies serving to protect invited too. Congratulations had been given to those who had completed the extensive year long training in order to serve the public and thank you’s for a successful year were designated to those who made it all possible.

That’s when Nick encountered you for the very first time - the spotlight directed onto you with applause for your groundbreaking achievements in training. The high slit of your silk black dress teased the side of your thigh enough to let his imagination run wild, ‘V’ neckline cutted down below your breasts, complimenting the shape of your body. Transfixed was appropriate to describe how he felt, your aura called to him like a siren to a sailor.

Nick needed you. The fixation he had harbored for you in such a short time should have frightened him, but he had already fallen too deep into your spell to ever want to come up for air.

As the live band music played after the end of the announcements, he set his champagne down onto the nearest surface without ever taking his eyes from you. Smoothing down the lapels of his jacket, he took off into your direction, his strides confident as he observed you catch his eye. Power oozed from you as you lifted your hand to halt the conversation with your group of friends.

There was interest in your gaze - Nick knew he was a very attractive man, the raise in your brow as you gave him a once over - evidence that you knew he was enchanting too.

He wasn’t afraid to use that to his advantage.

Nick stopped directly in front of you, your body fully turned to face him - a routine occurrence with men throwing themselves at you often. Intense eye contact was held between the two of you, your refusal to be any kind of submissive caused a tent to form in his trousers. Fuck, he had never met anyone like you.

You were dangerous and he loved it.

Nick sensed that the pair of you had gathered an audience of your co-workers, drawn to the spectacle he assumed was common for you at this point, and decided to be the one to cut the tension. “Hey. I just wanted to come over to congratulate you on your performance this year, Agent. Very impressive, if I do say so myself.”

A flash of disappointment crossed your face - you were expecting more from him. He needed to play his cards right. You didn’t need anyone, let alone a man, to tell you how you were doing your job - already fully aware of your excellence.

The tigress in you came out to play, “Yeah, well, you wouldn’t be the first to tell me that.”

If Nick were a regular man he would have cut his losses there. “Is that so, hm?” He questioned as he followed up with an invitation. “Well, can I be the first to ask for the pleasure to take you out to dinner?”

An amused huff of air broke free from your lips as you angled your head in dismissal, “and what makes you so sure I’d be interested in you? I don’t even know your name.” The women surrounding you started to snicker, jokes passed between themselves at your jab, expecting yet another stranger who wanted to try their luck with you to fumble and walk away in embarrassment like they all did.

But that was the thing. Nick wasn’t like the others. And he knew now that he had set his sights on you, there was no way he was going to be fool enough to let a woman like you slip through his fingers.

So, with unwavering confidence and no falter in his stance for your disregard, his eyes trailed salaciously up and down your form as he licked his lips - that damn smirk almost gave you whiplash when he smoothly replied back with, “oh sweetheart.. I’ll make sure you know my name by the end of the night. In fact, I can assure you that everyone in this building will know it too.”

Your eyes dilated as the rest of the world blurred around the both of you, the genuine surprise at his cockiness in your features was subtle along with the tiny gasp you let escape.

You would soon realise that Nick didn’t miss a thing.

He could tell no one had ever caught you off guard like that before - he wished more than ever to be able to know what you were thinking.

But, for now, you quickly shook back your composure, and he admired your unwillingness to lose the fiery game you were playing.

It seemed you had finally met your match.

Rivalling his smirk with a menacing one of your own, you bit your plump crimson lip, and it took all of Nick’s strength to hold back his groan, imagining that same shade of red decorating a ring around his cock - which proved to be more difficult when your honeyed drawl snapped him out of his dirty thoughts. “Is that a promise, handsome?”.

And right then, was the exact moment Nick knew he was gonna marry you.

He already established from his first glimpse of you that you were a fierce powerhouse with a rare beauty you wouldn’t find often in a lifetime. But your teasing back and forth and indescribable pull solidified the conclusion in his mind that one else would ever stand a chance to compete, could ever hope, to live up to your standard.

He was hooked. And soon enough, he hoped you would be too.

Nick often thought back on that night with fondness, monumentally grateful for the chance to have met you and bask in your presence. You really did change his life in the most perfect way imaginable, the glint from his wedding ring confirming agreement.

“Fowler, let’s go. You’re gonna be late.”

Snapping the ring box shut, he places the treasured jewelry back into his safe and locks it shut, sighing with resignation at the reminder of what’s awaiting him tonight.

“Oh don’t you take your strop out on me mister, I’m not the one who agreed to this.”

He levels his assistant with a deadpan look. It’s a good job he likes Elsie. She’s one of the only people who can get away with talking to him like that, uncaring of his brooding nature that everyone else tends to avoid. She’s stuck with him for two and a half years now, the sweet middle-aged lady full of fire with a need to boss him around.

Huh, reminds him of someone else.

He stands up, grabs his blue velvet suit blazer from the back of his chair to slide through his arms, and buttons it up, reaching under his shirt collar when done to tie the undone bow.

After a few failed attempts, Elsie steps forward with a fond shake of her head and smacks his hands away, perfecting it first try with years of experience.

“What would you do without me eh, kid?” Nick strives to keep a smile from reaching the surface, but he can’t help the genuine laugh that escapes him at her antics. Happy for that little bit of relief she gives him in the impending chaos.

She’d seen all the highs and most definitely all the lows of Nick in the whirlwind of the last three years. So much has happened that time seems to have flown by and yet dragged on too. But he’s a better man because of it - the vow he fulfilled to get his shit together after everything went downhill, seen through.

He’s proud of himself.

He likes to think you would be too.

That didn’t mean he was looking forward to his fate for the night. An invitation from Tony Stark accepted for his latest convention to showcase the most recent technology and gadgets available for order to relative agencies who were clean - he was actually excited about that part.

The worst part of his night would be playing lovey dovey to his ‘date’ (translate to spoiled brat) - a media stunt arranged by his publicist to try and restore his name in the world. Delusional. But he made a promise to be on his best behaviour to Elsie, and Nick makes good on his promises. He respected her too much not to.

So, with the balance of chivalry and the need to bite his tongue to keep from snapping, treading a thin line, he holds the car door open for the girl who’s name he can’t remember for the life of him, and plays his part - zoning out from her incoherent babble on the way to the event in the farce of being a good listener.

Instead he lets his mind wander off to another memory of the past - to some of the best days of his life - lips curving up into a gentle smile, as he lifts his right thumb to stroke over the left side of his chest.

The three months since Nick first met you had been nothing short of amazing. The dinner dates. The flowers he had delivered to you at least once a day with dirty teases written on hidden notes, overflowing your office and making those jealous of you seethe. Nick had not fallen short of wooing you, your heart willingly falling into the palm of his hands for him to take care of.

And so most people would be shocked to know that the two of you only had sex for the first time last night. Heated makeouts as you grinded against his cock on his lap, panting into the others mouth in hot desperation were no stranger to the end of your date night routine. But Nick was determined to prove he wanted your heart too, not just your body - he craved to understand your mind.

He was down bad for you and wasn’t ashamed for anyone to know it.

So, as he laid in bed the morning after your passionate night together, admiring how at peace you seemed snuggled into his chest, he noticed the ruby red lipstick mark printed perfectly on his skin above his heart.

An idea sprung to mind, needing no second consideration as he called his tattoo artist, requesting an urgent home visit and a hefty price offer.

Quiet footsteps towards the open doorway gave away your quest to see where your lover had disappeared to and he couldn’t help the smile growing on his face he tried to hide under the pretense of not knowing you were there. But Nick saw you from the corner of his eye, shock paralysing your body, as he leaned back in his expensive leather chair, tattoo needle inking his skin with the finishing details of the shape of your lips, your name in cursive taking place right next to it.

It was no surprise to him to hear you blurt out the first thing that came to mind.

“You’re fucking crazy, Nicki”.

He simply looked up at you, walking towards him with his unbuttoned shirt hung loose over your shoulders, something close to awe in your eyes and waved his hand in signal for the artist to leave.

With you and Nick alone, you brought your body to stand between his spread legs, lifting your pointer finger to delicately trace his new addition, goosebumps following the scrape of your nail. It fit so well, almost like it should have been there all along.

He rested his chin on your stomach, those big hands that eagerly touched every part of you, caressed the back of your thighs. Mischief in his eyes, he suddenly swiped your legs from under you, the deep chuckle at your startled squeal making your bare pussy drip against his crotch.

Content with you straddled in his lap, he deposited a single kiss to the curve of your neck, trailing his lips against your skin to whisper pure Romanian honey directly into your ear.

“Nebun după tine, îngerul meu.” - Crazy about you, my angel.

The screech of the car tires snaps Nick out of his daydream. Wishing he could go back to that moment in time, he looks out of the window to see they’ve arrived, flashing lights and red carpet triggering the anxiety that’s rippled through him at the thought of doing these events since he started coming alone.

Maybe if he had you by his side again, he would enjoy it.

“Are you going to get out or not?”. The irritating high pitched drone of his companion grates on him.

He doesn’t even try to cover up the huge sigh he lets out as he begins to step out of the car.

It was going to be a long night.

A/N: I know i mentioned posting Bucky fic first but this popped up out of nowhere! Buckys coming very soon, but I loved writing this and couldn’t wait to get it out 😅 also I posted this on mobile, so if anything looks out of place or weird, please let me know! thank you 😌

[rexalp]

Lovebombing of Sampo Koski

Certainly he finally hit a jackpot better than any gig, well Sampo Koski believes he was the luckiest guy ever to woe you. Reminding himself how many decent guys you turned down before finally choosing him.

You are too perfect, he thinks his lover was the most prettiest and most talented among Dr. Natasha's nurses. And of course, him being a businessman (scammer) wasn't good enough to give you a lavish life.

Cause maybe, Sampo finds himself lacking.

But did you ever regret loving him? The chances of him being dumped is very low, contrary to what your boyfriend and also your co-workers think of him.

“Y/n do you ever get tired having a boyfriend like him??”

“He's a criminal! Seriously Y/n you're really digging your own grave”

“Sshh... Can you please keep your voices down, patients are still asleep”

You were glad Dr. Natasha was always around to reprimand your co-workers from gossiping too much about your boyfriend or worst hearing those words would definitely tear his heart apart.

And you don't even know how much he was eager to get an errand for Dr. Natasha just to let him slip few things inside your locker. (Surprisingly he knows how to unlock it without using his explosives). And he never misses a chance of sneaking behind your patient's curtain one last time so he could hear your cute voice before going back to his usual work.

You'd always find your locker with a snack everyday, or a packed lunch which he probably asked Seele to help him with, and today was very special to for you both.

“Sampo Koski's special lovebombing surprise is now ready for Y/N!”

Roses wrapped with a newspaper and his signature mini-bombs which he used as a makeshift ones containing your favorite chocolates were his surprise for your monthsary.

The only problem he have was the newspaper, it downgrades the red roses he bought and unfortunately he's too tough to admit the fact that he's out of money... for only a day or two of course.

And when he was about to place his mini bombs back to his case, he was shocked to find you coming home earlier than he expected, holding a bouquet of roses too.

You bought it for him.

“Happy Monthsary Sampo, I got you these fresh roses for your briefcase!”

.

[cozza-frenzy]

Fanfic: Anything Not Saved

This job will chew you up and spit you out, if you’re not careful. OKAY, HERE GOES NOTHING. Hello Stanley Parable fandom! You might have seen me before, as I’ve been lurking around as The Phantom Pen (and one shy Anon) for the best part of a week now! Soooo I wasn’t planning on ‘taking off the mask’ so soon - I have absolutely terrible social anxiety, but what can I say? Y’all are a bunch of amazing, talented folks, and @chronicsheepdrawing‘s style - incorporating one of my all-time favorite aesthetics - has well and truly had my heart ever since I first laid eyes on it. As has their Drinky Bird Narrator - which brings us to this. I wrote a sort of horror-comedy thing, based on their Narrator, so I would recommend checking out their art so the whole story makes more sense. Things get existential, angsty, and more than a little bit weird when it comes to the format, but there’s a cute fluffy Stanley/Narrator ending if you’re willing to stick it out, which could be read as romantic or queerplatonic. I find this take on the Narrator all too relatable, as you’ll probably see. Poor guy. So here’s a list of everything I could think of making a content warning for. I might post this on AO3 later, but you guys get first dibs. I just hope tumblr doesn’t break my formatting somehow. CONTENT WARNINGS: Self-Hatred, Body Dysphoria (Not Gender Related), Body Horror, Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, Existential Dread, Emotional Breakdown, Memory Loss, Panic Attack, Autistic Sensory Overload/Over-stimulation, Repeating Words Enjoy??

And, and then he said, hehe… and THEN he said - this job will chew you up and spit you out, if you’re not careful! You know, like a piece of chewing gum! I couldn’t believe it, I really couldn’t! Oh, we laughed so heartily! It really was the most wonderful sound, bouncing off the walls of the bathroom again and again like we were standing in, oh I don’t know, some kind of echo chamber? But the point is, you see - the point is, he finished cleaning his shoes in the sink, and he held open the door for me, and then we stepped through the door to go back to- Wait, where are you going? I didn’t get to finish my-oh! Oh of course, I… I am sorry, I just got… oh, well, back to the daily grind, am I right? You know, haha, grind! Like the coffee you’re holding! I mean of course the stuff here is just that instant stuff, it always is, but it’s hard to complain when- And you’re already walking away… oh well… Some other time, perhaps… —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This is the story, of a man named ▇▇▇▇▇▇. ▇▇▇▇▇▇ worked in a big building, where he was employee number 436. Employee 436’s job was simple. He sat at a desk, designated number 436, and confirmed that the other employees were pushing the right buttons, for the right amount of time, in the right order. This is what Employee Number 436 did every day, of every month, of every year. And although others may have considered it soul-rending, he relished the brief moments of awkward small-talk he shared with his co-workers. Such as [ERROR: DATABASE ENTRY INVALID], who always [DATA CORRUPTED] whenever they [FILE NOT FOUND]. And Employee #427, who worked in a small office close to his. Who never said very much, but always seemed to want to listen to whatever he had to say. And ▇▇▇▇▇▇ was happy. And then one day, something very peculiar happened. And then one day, something very peculiar happened.      something very peculiar happened. very peculiar happened.     s̸o̴m̴e̸t̷h̸i̶n̶g̷ v̶̯̽e̷̲͈̺̰̒̽̎̃ŗ̴͓̩̩͜͠y̷̝̥̱̿̀         p̵̙͚̠̟̠̲̳͖̦͆̑̂̈̆̑ͅe̴̡̥͖̝͚͔̙̣͔͚͋͗̀̅̎͒͝c̸̨̛̻̬̪̯̺̺̈́̏̅͋̈́͛̌͜u̶̟͙̯̫̱͙͎̜͑̾̔͆̄͋͋͘͠͝l̵͉̫̮͖͖̰͖̦̮͍̎̃͑̀̽̅͛̚͠ì̸͙̦̯̜̱̳̪̟̈̂̔́̎̄̔͗̋á̵͎͉̖̘͔̺̙͕̬͚͓̟̳̰̅̽̽̆̂͛̽̕ŗ̷̢̻͎̗̙͇͇͕͙̺͎͑̿̅̈́͒͛͗́͗ͅ —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I don’t know how else I’m supposed to convince you of this!, said ▇▇▇▇▇▇. I really do want to help you… to show you something beautiful. It’s out there, Stanley! It can all be ours! The breeze on our skin, the feeling of liberation, the immense possibility of the new path before us! Nothing to think, nothing to know… it could be so singularly, piercingly beautiful… Just please, ▇▇▇▇▇▇ begged, still cradling his immobilized companion in his arms. This is more important than you can ever know… just say something… anything! ▇▇▇▇▇▇ sank to his knees and wept. I NEED this… ! —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- And Employee 436 walked through the open doors. And Employee 436 was happy. And Employee 436 stayed in the darkness. And Employee 436 pushed a button. And Employee 436 looked at pictures of birds, forever and ever. And Employee 436 stayed at their desk. And Employee 436 picked up the phone. And Employee 436 collapsed on the sidewalk. And Employee 436 sobbed as the warheads detonated. And Employee 436 screamed into the endless void. And Employee 436 asked Why Is This Happening To Me. And Employee 436 asked Why Are You Doing This. And Employee 436 asked Who Am I. And Employee 436 died. And Employee 436 died again. And Employee 436 died again. And Employee 436 died again. And Employee 436 died again. —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- EMPLOYEE DATABASE          THE CURRENT TIME IS: ERROR, PLEASE RESET LOADING… EMPLOYEE DATABASE LOADED … PLEASE ENTER YOUR COMMAND /PRINT EMPLOYEE STATUS PRINTING… TOTAL EMPLOYEE IN DATABASE: [604] TOTAL EMPLOYEE IN OFFICE: [3] … PLEASE ENTER YOUR COMMAND /PRINT LIST EMPLOYEES_IN_OFFICE PRINTING… EMPLOYEE 427 - STATUS: ONLINE EMPLOYEE 436 - STATUS: OFFLINE EMPLOYEE [DATABASE ENTRY INVALID] - STATUS: [FILE INACCESSIBLE] … PLEASE ENTER YOUR COMMAND /ADMIN WELCOME, ADMIN /********* WARNING: ANYTHING NOT SAVED WILL BE LOST RESET WITH NEW PARAMETERS? Y/N /Y RESETTING… —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Narrator sat at his desk, grumbling to himself. He really hated moments like this; moments when, for whatever logic-forsaken reason was rattling around like a peanut in Stanley’s skull, he simply mucked about. Found literally anything else to do instead of making actual, meaningful choices as he was supposed to. The Narrator sighed heavily, taking a moment to shuffle his papers. It really was utterly maddening. Not just the lack of co-operation, the lack of respect for his story, his life’s work, but the silence that was left behind whenever Stanley had one of his “little moments”. The Narrator detested silence. It always led to him falling back on unwelcome habits. He sighed; perhaps Stanley would soon lose interest in whatever the hell he’d found so captivating. But for now, he supposed, he could lean back in his chair, perhaps put his feet up on his desk if he felt so inclined. After all - he thought to himself, smugly - it wasn’t as if anyone could see him. It wasn’t as if anyone could tell him no. There was just him, and his feet oh so defiantly up on the desk, and the gentle sloshing sound of the liquid inside his transparent belly, sloshing gently back and forth after the sudden movement. He paused, briefly gripped by a moment of brief, existential panic. Okay, that wasn’t “normal”, but what is “normal” for you really? Okay, breathe. Just breathe… in through your nose, and out through your… what, exactly? He didn’t have a mouth, so he couldn’t exactly… and what nose, for that matter!? The bloody thing on his face didn’t even have nostrils! Did that even qualify as a nose?? “Oh no… ” he groaned. It was happening again. He’d been silent too long, and now he was thinking. But he could handle this, he assured himself. All he had to do was clear his throat rather loudly and obnoxiously, and that would surely get Stanley’s attention… but that raised the question of what throat he was supposed to clear-NO! No, just- just think of something else! Anything else! The ticking of the clock on the wall! The gentle hum of the completely non-functional vending machine down the hall! The things that were so familiar! So comforting! That had been so…everyday, once… When there had been days. When there had been nights, and a bed to go home to, and a need to sleep in it... “No, no, no-!” He cried out in distress, his fingers desperately gripping his hair. He’d caught himself reminiscing, and now he was remembering! Remembering that he used to be human! His mind scrambled and flailed desperately, frantically, at strips of memories long since run through the shredder. If only he could piece them together! Just a little more! He just needed more time! He just needed something, anything to hold onto! If only he could, if only he could get a grip, then things would make sense again! Things would be alright again! They could still be... they could still be... But his hands - or were they gloves? - quivered and shook. They covered what could have just as easily been glasses or eyes, as tears streamed down plastic cheeks. Where one part of him ended and another began, he couldn’t tell, not any more. Logic and reason in this place had long since fallen sloppy dead. And he’d become this. This great hard plastic thing. He could feel it, now. The floodgates creaking open, threatening to unleash the frothing torrents of self-hatred he’d fought so hard to contain, as he pored over the shards of his own shattered memories. Had it been a slow process? Had he perhaps been forced to watch, reset after reset? Had his body gradually twisted, his humanity unraveling, the identity he’d built falling to pieces, as bits of him were corrupted and lost and stripped away in this loop, this cycle, this Merry-Go-Round gone mad? He’d gone from just another part of the office to a part of the office. The Narrator paused on that thought, taking a few heavy breaths to steady himself. How would something like that even happen? He chuckled mirthlessly; had the office simply gotten hungry one day, and gobbled him up in one gulp? Like some kind of ravenous beast from a fairytale? Preposterous! He thought to himself, finally feeling as if he’d gotten the upper hand in this existential argument. He refused to believe it! Part of the office, indeed... was he still not himself, in some way? Was he still not here, still telling his beloved stories? And then his mind spat out one last, horrible thought, right into his face. What else would drive something to devour what you used to be, and spit out what you’d become? Why else would it eat, if it wasn’t hungry? Because it was bored. The Narrator collapsed into his chair. He’d been defeated in one terrible emotional gut-punch; another steady slosh of liquid, back and forth, adding insult to injury. Reminding him of just how inhuman he was. Of just how utterly, cartoonishly ridiculous he looked. Of course that was it. He hadn’t been good enough. His story had never been good enough. He’d been obnoxious, and long-winded, and pretentious. If only he’d tried harder, if only he’d been better, then maybe whatever was keeping him here would have taken him more seriously. Maybe it would have let him taste freedom. Maybe it would have just ended him outright. Maybe it wouldn’t have punished him like this, giving him a form that was only fitting for his utterly laughable attempts at prose. Inside the flurry of destroyed memories, something stirred. This job will chew you up and spit you out, if you’re not careful! The Narrator wept. —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Meanwhile, a man named Stanley had gotten himself into an unexpected spot of bother. Oh, it had started out innocently enough, mere minutes ago. Stanley had just stepped out of his office, and been walking through some of the space he’d shared with his missing co-workers when something had caught his eye. The number on the desk, 346? No, that meant little to him. There were a few vague and blurry things perhaps, snippets of conversation, and vague memories of laughing while standing by the water cooler… but that was another mystery he’d have to solve in due time. What had actually caught his eye was the computer monitor, apparently showing someone had recently accessed some kind of database. A database with an error that needed resetting. Being a helpful sort of chap, Stanley did what he’d always felt he was made to do, and pushed the button to reset the clock. Surely, his co-worker would appreciate him taking the initiative as soon as they got back. LOADING. Stanley puffed out his chest with pride. If the boss took notice of his boldness, his bravery, his seizing of the initiative - why, he might even get a promotion! Imagine that! Please enter the current time, said the screen. Stanley entered the current time. Is this correct?, said the screen - presenting him with a choice. YES or NO. Stanley, feeling quite confident by now, selected YES. Can you read this? Another YES or NO. A simple choice this time; Stanley selected YES. Can you hear me? Stanley hesitated for a moment; no, he couldn’t hear anyone. In fact, now that he thought about it, the Narrator had been oddly quiet for a while. He hadn’t commented on how much time he was wasting, or how he should be getting on with the story, which seemed a little strange. But maybe - if Stanley was very lucky - perhaps he’d say how proud of him he was, and how he deserved a lovely sticker for his hard work! Stanley gave a contented little sigh, daydreaming of the possibilities. Perhaps it would be a green one. He did rather like the color green. Help. Stanley snapped out of his trance quite abruptly, just as the word flashed up on the screen. That was strange, he didn’t remember selecting any ‘Help’ option... Help. And moreover, something was touching him. He looked down to the keyboard, where a pair of hands - as black as the empty void outside the map, and as soft as velvet - were very gently grasping his. They came out of the screen, reaching out of the darkness that surrounded the word; Help. Stanley wasn’t sure how, but that word seemed to be looking at him somehow. Staring him down. Begging. Pleading. Help. Another hand reached out, moving quickly to grip his shoulder. Then there was another hand, on another shoulder. Stanley was starting to get somewhat uncomfortable now. That made, what, four hands touching him now? No, five. Six. Eight!? Help. Another YES or NO flashed onto the screen just as sheer panic set in. Stanley pulled back, desperate to get away, but the computer came with him. The hands were clinging to him, pulling at him, their soft fingers crawling all over him with what felt like silent desperation as Stanley’s heart raced. He tried to do something, tried to select an option, to make a choice, but with the hands gripping his wrists he couldn’t select anything, he couldn’t even form signs… ! Then, Stanley heard a sound. “Oh, Stanley… what is to become of me… ?” Mustering his strength and facing his fears, inky fingers still pawing at his face, Stanley selected YES, and promptly dropped the entire computer terminal on his foot with a sickening crunch. The hands withdrew immediately. He wasn’t sure if he screamed out loud, but something certainly got The Narrator’s attention. “STANLEY??” Stanley was sitting on the floor now, rocking back and forth gently, wincing from the pain. He’d have to contact sysadmin about the error with the computer. Yes, that was it, just an error. The mysterious grasping hands error was far, far beyond his realm of expertise, as a mere button-pusher... someone else would take care of it... “Stanley, what on EARTH were you trying to do!?” Perhaps he’d also see the company nurse, if there was one - and surely if there was, they’d get back from wherever they went soon enough. Perhaps they’d even have sugar-free lollipops for very brave employees who weren’t frightened to death of whatever THAT was... and didn’t cry from the pain in their foot… or the growing ache in their chest… “Stanley… ?” Stanley buried his head in his arms. Something about all of that had left him uncharacteristically shaken, in a way most unbecoming for the intrepid hero of our story. And what was worse, was he couldn’t quite place why. He’d always had his buttons, a little office all of his own, he’d even known the incomparable joy of having his very own bucket. But now it felt like something was missing, or somehow very far away... “Oh, Stanley… ” The Narrator’s voice sounded softer than Stanley expected; usually he’d be quite annoyed whenever he got distracted and deviated from the story too much. “We’re both just a mess today, aren’t we?” Stanley looked towards the ceiling, sniffling a little, wiping his eyes on his shirt sleeve. <You too?> he signed. “As much as it pains me to admit this… yes, Stanley. Me too.” The Narrator sighed heavily. “Even someone like me can have bad days.” <I’m sorry.> Stanley signed, and paused for a moment before he signed again. He couldn’t be sure, but the sound he’d heard earlier had almost been like quiet sobbing. <Is everything okay?> “Is everything-?” The Narrator sounded quite taken aback; “Stanley, what about you? What about your foot? Are you broken? Do I need to reset? Come on, man! Speak up!” <I don’t think so.> Stanley signed, flexing his foot experimentally. It was a little sore, but nothing felt out of place. <It feels like something else is wrong, though. Did you go somewhere?> “Not… exactly.” The Narrator said; there was something off about his voice again, Stanley thought. He didn’t usually hesitate this much, not even when the story spun off in some wild direction that left both of them utterly confused. “Why, did something happen?” Stanley thought for a moment, thinking through which signs he should use to describe what he’d just seen… only to find he couldn’t. Something about what just happened simply defied description. He tried to get the sudden influx of nervous energy out of himself by flapping his hands, getting up and pacing back and forth, but found himself signing the same words over and over as he tried to think of what to say. <I thought I was alone. I thought I was alone. I thought I was alone.> “Stanley?” <I thought I was alone and then I wasn’t??> Stanley ran his fingers through his hair a few times, his cheeks flushing and tears gathering in the corners of his eyes as his frustration grew and grew. Why couldn’t he just sign things in a way that made sense? “Stanley.” Why did the way that Narrator was speaking to him make him feel like he’d forgotten something - something important? Why wasn’t the ache in his chest going away? Why was this so hard?? “Stanley.” <WHAT!?> “There is no need to shout.” The Narrator said, firmly but patiently, after Stanley’s very angry signing towards the ceiling. Stanley looked rather sheepish; <Sorry.> The Narrator gave another heavy sigh; “Look, Stanley. Evidently, this hasn’t exactly gone according to plan.” Stanley nodded; he had to concede, the Narrator was right. All of this just felt wrong. “Tell you what; why don’t we just go to the employee lounge? Maybe I can… even try to activate one of the vending machines?” The Narrator may as well have offered a gold-plated bucket full of ice-cream with a nice, shiny red button on top, for how fast Stanley ran out of the room. Not only for the possibility of a nice, cool, generic can of soda, but for an excuse to leave the place that had left him feeling so thoroughly over-stimulated... “STANLEY! Stanley, wait, let me catch up-!” And the computer terminal - lifting itself up on velvet-soft, void-colored hands - very carefully dragged itself back into its proper place. —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- <This is nice.> Despite his absence of mouth, The Narrator still couldn’t help but smile as he saw his protagonist splayed out on the couch, soda in hand. Perhaps they should try this more often, if he still remembered this after the next reset. Or perhaps Stanley would remember this time. Yes… yes, that would be nice. That way he wouldn’t have to remember those other things he had been remembering. “I’m sorry I was, eh... briefly preoccupied,” he said. Stanley boggled for a brief moment, and the Narrator realized what he’d just said. Him, the almighty, all-seeing and all-knowing Narrator - apologizing like he’d made a mistake?? He cleared his throat loudly, giving himself a few seconds to backtrack. “That is, ah, I mean - honestly, Stanley. I didn’t think you’d get yourself into so much trouble in the split-second I took my eyes off you.” He sneered, leaning in towards the microphone on his desk, so Stanley could better hear the thick layers of snark dripping from every syllable. “I mean, as your beleaguered babysitter, I really should have known better... where would you be without me, you poor thing? Probably helpless and trapped under a whole pile of computers, knowing you... ” Stanley rolled his eyes, and took another sip of his generic soda. The Narrator sighed in relief; ah, the status quo. Everything was settling back in quite nicely, oh yes. Just him, and his protagonist, and his perfect story playing out again and again. Satisfying ending after satisfying ending. No room for anything else... no room for those kinds of thoughts... <You know what would be nicer, though?> And just when things were going so well, the first thought that crossed the Narrator’s mind left him teetering on the brink of another breakdown. Of course... of course Stanley was about to interrupt this perfect moment, his perfect moment, to ask for the company of that bloody bucket... <If you were here.> “If I was there… ?” The Narrator said; now it was his turn to boggle. And with a face like his, he could boggle in a way the World Boggling Champion would find tough to out-boggle. “Stanley, did you drop that computer on your head as well? Perhaps several times in succession?” He scoffed, once again forcing himself to get a grip; “I’m your Narrator! I’m literally always here!” <I mean here in person.> Stanley ran his finger around the round rim of the soda can, feeling its smooth edge beneath his fingertip as he thought for a moment. The memory of what had happened exactly was already starting to blur and fade, like some kind of strange dream, but he remembered a soft touch. He remembered hands; gentle hands. A feeling of wanting to be understood. It just seemed... familiar. <I’d like to know what holding your hand feels like.> The Narrator spluttered; “What!?” Stanley looked a little hurt; was that too much? Had he overstepped? It wasn’t like he’d asked for a hug or anything… though a hug would also be nice, he supposed. That oh so satisfying squeeze around his body, easing his worries, taking away some of that pent-up energy he so often found himself with. And from someone who - despite his frequently snippy attitude - really did seem to care about him, in some kind of way. But trying to picture that in his head… now he had further questions. <I was also wondering what you looked like?>, he asked, “Stanley… ” The Narrator strained, sweat pouring down his crimson brow. “You want to see me?” Stanley nodded with a great deal of enthusiasm, his soda suddenly forgotten, his eyes wide open to a whole new possibility. He’d never really thought about how he’d never seen The Narrator until - but now there was a choice in front of him! And he knew exactly which path to choose! <Yes!> The Narrator swallowed dryly. His fingers fidgeted nervously as he ran the imaginary scenario through his head. Did he really… ? Could he? Should he?? Then his eyes caught sight of his… hands. No, gloves. Whatever the hell the damn things were. And that familiar feeling of disgust and disdain came creeping and crawling back. No. No, he couldn’t possibly. Stanley would… Stanley would take one look and he’d laugh at him. He’d laugh and laugh and laugh at the Silly Drinky Birdy Man and he’d never take him or his story seriously ever again. Everything would be ruined. He’d be a complete and utter laughingstock. A failure. “No - no, Stanley, I… I don’t actually have a physical form.” The words turned to ashes in his mouth, and the ashes turned to icicles that pounded themselves into his heart as he saw the look on Stanley’s face. Oh, he thought he’d felt bad before, but now? The Narrator had never felt himself sink so low; he felt like he’d clip through the floor any second now, and pop out in the endless dark void beneath the map. He may as well have thrown a puppy into a piranha pit. <Oh… > The Narrator’s whole body shook; could he tell? Could Stanley tell this was a half-truth at best? That technically, yes - he could ‘unload’ his ‘model’ and disappear fully into his role as The Unseen Voice Of The Stanley Parable - but that it felt awful, it felt wrong, like there was some slim chance that he’d get “stuck” like that? Trapped, and unable to get out? Utterly extinguishing what little hope he still had that something could be done about his terrible fate? The hope that he could still escape this place, and get the Happily Ever After that never, ever came before ‘The End’… ? <Okay.> signed Stanley. <Thanks anyway.> And that was that. Oh, of course they probably agonized over it some more, in their own heads. Round and round they go, Stanley and the Narrator alike. How they long to understand each other, as well as themselves. But eventually, Stanley had to leave the Break Room. Eventually, the Narrator had to read the final lines of the Ending before everything Reset. And eventually, both of them forgot all about what happened; from the Narrator’s near-breakdown to Stanley’s misadventure with the terminal. From the not-broken soda machine to the poor, misunderstood, utterly transformed Employee 432. Fragments of memories, lost in the shuffle of Endings and Beginnings. But 432 had finally found a way in. The wheel would keep turning, they’d keep it turning, and now they finally had hope. They had hope. They weren’t going to give up on that so easily. And Stanley wasn’t going to give up, either. That nagging, persistent feeling that he’d see him again someday - whoever ‘he’ was - still remained. Some things go far deeper than a Reset can reach. Some things not saved aren’t always lost.

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

@cullen-blue23

I’ve had this headcannon for a really long time: Wen Ning can sing really well (even now as a fierce corpse), but is really shy about it because Wen Ch*o and Co used to make fun of him for it. I really wanna see the juniors (+wangxian potentially) catch him when he’s really in the zone. He just turns to see a small crowd of awed teenagers (Once again I am here with my Wen Ning appreciation agenda)

+

🧟🎶❤️‍🩹(he can sing really well, but is self conscious cause he used to get made fun of. He sings a lullaby for the kids after a bad night hunt. It worked wonders.)

These prompts are super similar so I've decided to combine them! One is from the fluff prompts, the other is from the emoji event. I hope it was worth the wait <3

Uncle Ning, sing to me too!!

The juniors huddle together in front of the campfire, quieter than usual. Their expressions are haunted, still thinking over the happenings in their night hunt, the way they fell victim to those vicious ghosts, the feeling that they were going to die by their hand. The images the ghosts materialized for them to see, the paralyzing fear, the way their bodies shook with the adrenaline of wanting to fight for their lives but being unable to.

Wen Ning showed up at the perfect time, saving their lives and destroying those ghosts - but what if he hadn't? How could they ask to be allowed to night hunt alone if they nearly died in their first mission?

Wen Ning hands each of them a pastry he got from his quick trip to the nearby town. They thank him and bite into the treats, the sweet taste distracting their bad thoughts momentarily. While they eat, Wen Ning stokes the fire, and checks over the surroundings for any dangers.

"Uncle Ning... tell us a story?" Sizhui asks, and he looks so much like his younger, scared self in the Burial Mounds that Wen Ning almost feels life beat into his heart.

"What story would you like to hear?"

"Something nice..."

Wen Ning thinks over a few seconds before taking a seat next to the kids. "When I was little, I used to be very scared of the dark. To be honest, I was scared of everything, but the dark especially. So my mom, who was a cultivator, invented a lullaby that had a protection spell in it. She'd sing it to me every night and so I stopped being afraid of the dark... of anything really."

"What happened to her, uncle Ning?" Jingyi asks as he finishes his treat.

"She became ill and died shortly before the Sunshot Campaign started. A degenerative disease..."

"Oh, I'm sorry..."

"It's alright, it's been a long time ago... But... I think my mom's lullaby could help you guys... want to hear it?"

"Mhm!"

And so, Wen Ning closes his eyes, and he imagines his mom's kind smile and her beautiful voice, the melody, the soft words of her song. He's both her and himself, 5 years old and 35, parent and child all the same, and if he could, he'd cry.

Sleep, my baby, the stars shine for you

The sun and the moon and the fireflies too

My love will reach you like the sky meets the sea

And they'll watch over you, and I'll join you soon...

It's been so long since he's thought of this song, since he's thought of his mother, since he's sung anything. He hums the melody, and sees himself fall asleep on his mom's chest, with Wen Qing by his side, when the world was still beautiful and alive. When they all were.

Wen Ning opens his eyes, and he's met with the juniors' awed expressions. The fear is now replaced with wonder, and their faces no longer bear the aftermath of a terrible night hunt.

"Uncle Ning... your voice..."

"I know it isn't very good-"

"It's amazing!" Jingyi intervenes, "Can you sing us some more songs?"

"You...like it?"

"Of course! You're so talented! You could make a fortune!"

Wen Ning feels like crying, though he can't anymore. He used to be made fun of, be called all sorts of unkind names whenever he tried to sing - so he stopped. He hasn't sung anything at all long before he even died. Wen Chao would call him a failed circus worker, a worthless artist, whatever he felt like - and now Wen Chao is dead and these kids like him. Like his singing, his stories, his guidance, trust him with their lives.

Wen Ning sings to them all the songs he can remember.

He wishes Wen Qing could hear him too. She used to love it when he sang to her.

[hooked-on-elvis]

How was Elvis in the 70s? ✨

Elvis' personal and work life, as told by a close friend and former lover. "Elvis and Kathy" by Kathy Westmoreland. Some of the questions I found answers to - or at least some enlightenment - were these ones: 'What Elvis went through on the road?'; 'How he dealt with his health issues?'; 'Was Elvis a depressed man?' And of course, we have more treasured stories on Elvis' tremendous generosity and funny antics.

On Kathy and my review on her book:

Kathy Westmoreland was Elvis' soprano background singer for his TCB band from August 1970 to August 1977, when sadly Elvis passed away. Kathy joined the TCB band during the time they were filming "Elvis: That's The Way It Is" at the International Hotel, during Elvis' 3th season there; precisely when they were finishing the last shooting for the documentary. Kathy lived a romance with Elvis right from the start she joined his band and it's very interesting to read her recollections on how things gradually - but quickly - escalated between being just a newcomer talent for the band to being one of the big boss' women. On this subject, Kathy included not only facts on how things happened between she and Elvis but her feelings and thoughts during each moment she shared with him. This is a very interesting reading, specially considering the circumstances this love affair was under (Elvis was still a married man). Kathy is raw honest on her side of this issue and why she decided to go on with their love affair. EP was her first man - if you catch my drift, so this entices our curiosity on their love affair story a lot more; it did mine, at least.

Throughout the book, you can feel how Kathy cherished being not only a co-worker, and in spite of being his lover for a certain amount of time, but having Elvis for a dear friend. He trusted her and she loved him truly deeply. On this book, Kathy defends Elvis wholeheartedly. You can feel the how angry she was with some of the crap people said about EP over the years (up until the time she published this book, of course), and she stood against it without lying about what she truly considered flaws on Elvis. Even so, even when she didn't agree with everything Elvis did, as you expect from any close true friend, she remained loyal and justified some of his choices, giving EP compassion and understanding rather than unfair judgment. She did some covering for him, in my opinion, specially about the medication abuse, but other than that she was very truthful and considerate and even dismissed some myths people created in a way of mocking Elvis, such as him not having a good hygiene during his last years of life, and so on. That's my favorite part of her book, really! I was like 'YEAH, YOU GO, GIRL!' 🩷

Now, you may feel that the book becomes tiresome when in some chapters Kathy talks about her personal experiences and feelings traveling with the TCB band instead of sharing only her moments with Elvis, but this was something to expect for considering she was not with him the entire time they worked together. These memories about the band on the road, their crazy schedules and hotel stays directly connect with how Elvis lived on the road and what he experienced himself, how draining it could be going from city to city nonstop, not having proper meals and a nice night sleep, so they are extremely valuable in every way. Be patient, the stories about EP are spread throughout the book, so pay attention to the details and read in between the lines.

Kathy is alive today, thanks God, and she still care deeply about EP. Reading her book was one of my best spent time, really. Kathy's book is one very dear to my heart. ♥

This is a rare book and, just like I found it only through some good soul out there sharing it, and I know it's not very easy to find this book, I want to share it with you too. I promise you will have a great time reading those pages.

Read "ELVIS AND KATHY" (1987), by Kathy Westmoreland

✨ PDF here ✨

Kathy Westmoreland, Oslo, Norway, 1983. Photos by Stein Ivar Holmo as published by him on Nov 07th, 2023 on 'Elvis in the 70's' Facebook group.

Some of Elvis' gifts to Kathy.

[maccaulayblake]

[ harris dickinson, male, he/him ] — whoa! MACCAULAY BLAKE just stole my cab! not cool, but maybe they needed it more. they have lived in the city for LIFE, working as a/an FASHION PHOTOGRAPHER. that can’t be easy, especially at only 30 YEARS OLD. some people say they can be a little bit FICKLE and IMPRUDENT, but i know them to be CANDID and VEHEMENT. whatever. i guess i’ll catch the next cab. hope they like the ride back to MANHATTAN! 

 ~ Quick stuff ~ Name: Maccaulay Blake Birthday: January 26th, 1994 Zodiac: Aquarius ☼ , Libra ☾, Leo ↑ From: New York City, New York Residence: Manhattan, Lower East Side Pronouns: He/Him

bio stuff:

Born and raised in New York to a single mother Aurelia "Rea" Blake (60), a famous fashion model from the late 80's/90's. Artist and activist. Her parents, Maccaulay's grandparents, Conrad Blake (deceased) with a lineage tying back to early finance, and socialite Effy Early-Blake, real estate (82). They were and are very hands on with their only grandson and with a desire to see their fortunes stay in the family.

Maccaulay grew up in Manhattan's Upper East Side and attended all the all the prestigious schools since kindergarten and on - a stipulation made by his grandparents, to Rea's chagrin. Having had Maccaulay during the height of her career, it was his home base.

Maccaulay's birth father is out of the picture and has been since day one. The pregnancy was quite the scandal at the time, a whole Mamma Mia situation in the gossip rags of who the father could be. In time to be revealed David Scanlen, Freelance photographer, mostly notably for his Photo Journalism from political and world events from all over the world. Based out of LA with another very famous wife and family all his own - there has never been a relationship between David and Maccaulay, child support and that was it.

His teenage years he skipped the awkward phase and could say grew up too fast. Finding school boring, he found his friends and the rest of New York way more exciting. Indulging in the easily afforded drug scene so many of his classmates were dabbling if not full blown into - he began to party and party hard.

Rea knew (that was her experience as well), instead of pulling him out, uprooted him to Brooklyn with her where she found a brownstone and a studio and began her own pursuit of her art. She didn't pull him out of school yet, giving him the ultimatum that she would pull him out, leave his friends and go to public. Or find a hobby. He did.

Mac found dance - something he still does to blow off steam today. But he'd hurt himself out of carelessness and that led to having to find something else. Enter Photography.

What started as a street project while he was all cast up turned into something much more meaningful. Mac had a raw talent and despite the glaring spotlight it may have put on his birth father. It was something he ended up pursuing.

Of course he had the connections. Not ashamed to use them. He just nearly graduated - with a name and large donation, Conrad made sure he'd get into a college. NYU it was. Where he lasted a year. Once again bored by the structure.

Opting for internships. Afforded of course by who his mother was he worked for some of the most exciting photographers forming a good relationship and connections within Conde Nast and their array of publications within.

With a natural talent - a load of arrogance and a huge leg up he's been on the up and up career wise. Mac's currently shooting for just about any and all major outlets.

random stuff:

loves the night life, hasn't shaken that side of him. is very social, and not one for settling down. has a tattoo between his shoulder blade he does not remember getting of a mermaid. (embarazzzing) is learning the drums - think's he's way better than he is

connections:

Fashion/Work World: I suppose pretty self-explanatory. 'Co-workers' of sorts. Those working in and around a shoot.

Roommate: He lives in a spacious apartment on the Lower East Side, doesn't need a roommate but for as much as he likes his solitude he also likes having a body around.

Friends: He's born and raised, Upper East Side then Brooklyn - he's been around, so really any old childhood friends to someone he met on the Ferry. I'm interested in all kinds.

Dance: He's been doing it since he was seventeen. So studios, rec hall classes, he's tried all kinds. Favors Modern and Contemporary.

Exes: He's not been the best guy to be in a relationship with so I don't imagine he's ever had a relationship lasting really over a year and then some. Maybe they tried, there was cheating, there was loss of interest idk. you know? ;D

Flings: another pretty much self-explanatory.

Negatives: In any capacity! Rivals, old grudges, parents have history, he stole your cab! Anything.

~Legit down for anything, if there’s ideas toss them out. On dash chem is my favorite and just love winging it too! I’ll fill this all out more as time goes on for sure!

[tea-with-evan-and-me]

Part 1: engagement party

"I have to tell you something" my best friend and co- worker Julie just got engaged and has asked me to stand up in her wedding. Her engagement party is in a few days.

"What's up?" I ask her.

"Well, I want to tell you now so the freak out can happen here and you can get it out of your system."

"I'm officially scared" I joke

"We're pairing you with Evan Peters" she blurts it out.

"O-oh." I'm flustered

"That's it? That's the freak out?"

"Uhhhh... It might be delayed" I'm screaming on the inside.

"Ok, well he's really shy and I just don't want you to fangirl on him and make him anxious."

"Hey, Julie. How long have you known me? I'm fucking cooler than that and you know it. Also, I want him to think I'm cool too."

She laughs louder than she should. I roll my eyes.

"Ok, well, he's going to be at the engagement party on Saturday. So get a cute dress and try not to be uncool."

"Oh, I'm already looking online at dresses"

"Of course you are" she chuckles.

-----

I walk into the restaurant fashionably late. I had to make sure my makeup was perfect. What the fuck is wrong with me? I know I need to act normal. It's hard when your only celebrity crush is going to be standing up in your best friend's wedding with you of all people. I take a deep breath and look around. I don't see Evan anywhere. I do see Julie and her fiance Tom standing in the doorway greeting their guests. Tom is talking to a man with a beard and curly hair. I head towards them.

"Hey you two love birds, how's it going?" I hug and kiss Julie and then Tom. Tom turns to me.

"Hey, just in time!" As he says it I realize who he's talking to. Holy shit he looks different with facial hair. Rugged and fucking hot. My heart skips a beat and I have to react fast. I turn to Evan and extend my hand.

"Hey! I'm Natalie. Everyone calls me Nat. Nice to meet you!" I see Julie smile approvingly at my behavior. She winks at me. I give her a "not now" look.

Evan shakes my hand. His grip is firm but gentle. The first thing I noticed is how soft spoken he is. His eyes are dark, but warm.

"I'm Evan. Nice to meet you too!"

He smiles and his dimples peek out from his beard. Shit. I'm in trouble.

"I want to just quickly tell you I'm a big fan and I think you're a very talented actor. Congrats on your awards and noms."

He blushes slightly but he seems appreciative

"Thanks"

Julie speaks "Well we have to make our rounds. You two should chat a bit" She winks at me.

"Want to sit?" Evan says shyly

"Oh, sure. Sounds good."

We make our way to a table. Evan pulls my chair out for me.

"Oh, thanks" my face must say a lot

He chuckles "You seem shocked"

"Ha, well I don't think a guy has ever pulled a chair out for me. Glad to see chivalry isn't dead" I smile.

"Can I get you a drink?" Evan smiles back.

"Sure, I would love a rum and coke please."

"Sure thing!" He heads to the bar.

When he returns he hands me my drink and sits beside me. "How do you know Julie?"

"We work together at the hospital and have become best friends over the last 5 years"

"Are you a nurse too?"

"Respiratory therapist actually. We work a lot together because I have to administer CPR and other things. We end up in the same room a lot of the time."

"Wow. Not quite sure what that entails" he says interested.

*Well, breathing treatments, CPR, draining fluid. All the pretty things"

"Geez, is it hard?

"it's very taxing, but also rewarding. Especially when you can send patients home"

Just then we hear clanking on glasses. Tom's Dad is getting everyone's attention. He makes a speech about how perfect a couple Tom and Julie are and that he's thrilled everyone is here tonight to celebrate this engagement.

"How long have you known Tom?" I ask Evan

"About 15 years. Met him when I was young. He's a good guy"

"Can't wait for the festivities" I say

He smiles at me. "Me too"

👀

[we-dont-talk-about-potato-nonono]

Nice lore drop for yin. I like hearing more about her and john.

of course ✨ this is quite long… I hope you enjoy reading it!

🎮 Yin and Johnny are both gamers and have always shared a love of video games and often play together. Johnny's a bit of a retro gamer and he loves showing Yin all his favourite games from when he was a kid. they’re pretty competitive and will constantly fight over who gets the highest score, it's all good fun and they both have a good time playing together.

📸 Johnny actually quite a talented photographer, sometimes when he got nothing to do he carries his camera with him, ready to snap a picture at anytime and he has a true gift for it, capturing the beautiful details in the moments that pass by so quickly with his photos.

☕️ Yin worked part time at a little coffee shop near their college, she would have a shift there for a couple hours in the afternoon (when there’s no class and during her semester break). it wasn't very hard work but she enjoyed it, her co workers were nice and she enjoyed chatting with the regulars that came in every day. Johnny sometimes visit her when he isn’t busy. she often worked for tips too so she would come back home with a little bit of extra spending money, which was nice for her, it gave her a little extra bit of financial stability and also gave her a little bit more of her own independence, having a job of her own and not relying on her family for everything.

👨‍🔧 Johnny's father was the owner of a small local garage and it was a tradition that the son would eventually take over the family business. Johnny was quite the talented mechanic, and had a lot of experience and knowledge about cars and motorcycles, so it was the perfect job for him but Johnny and his dad often have little disputes over their very different opinions and views on things, which often leads to small clashes and little fights.

his parents are quite insistent on him taking over the family business and carrying the legacy, but Johnny is more keen on doing what makes him happy and what he wants from life, rather then what he's suppose to do as his parents are telling him to do, which leads to arguments and disagreements, but their father-son bond is still strong and they make up after getting into arguments. daddy issue? well maybe a little.

🏍️ Johnny’s motorcycle is his pride and joy, he spent a lot of time and care into fixing it up and making it the most gorgeous piece of machinery he could, it's very loud, very beautiful and everyone notices it when he rides down the street. he and Yin both love taking long rides together on it to just experience nature on their own and he lets her ride with him, although he's very overprotective over it, he's really attached to his bike.

📔 Yin keeps a personal diary where she writes down her thoughts and feelings, often using it as a way to vent out her feelings and frustrations from her day. it’s quite cathartic for her and she enjoys writing it, it's almost like venting to a friend, but there's also an element of privacy to it as it is just for her!

🚭 Yin is a heavy smoker due to the stress from her overbearing mother and her strict upbringing. she’s always smoking a cigarette when she's feeling overwhelmed or stressed out, which is quite frequently. it’s a very addictive habit of hers. she starts smoking since she’s 16 years old.

as for Johnny, he smokes for fun and to destress from a long or stressful day, he enjoys sitting outside with a couple cigarettes and just thinking. he always has a pack (fun fact: his pack of cigarettes is pink color thanks to Yin having obsession with that color hehe) and is always willing to share a cigarette with Yin whenever she wants one too.

commissioned art by festiveminty!

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Can I request 1-25 for the farmer ask meme or is that too much

Sure, I don't mind writing all the questions at once 😃

1. Julian Braflovski (Most likely I will not change the Farmer's surname, it seems to me that it fits well)

2. He/him

3. Julian was 21 when he arrived in Stardew Valley

4. Bi (Bisexual) so many possible and beautiful bachelors and bachelorettes

5. Julian has a dog named Orion. An energetic and good puppy that Marnie found near the entrance to the farm and offered to Julian to take him. Although the puppy is a mongrel, he has all the makings of being an excellent shepherd dog. Guards the farm, plays with other farm animals, gets a lot of pets and often has zoomies. What a good boy!

6. Working in a Joja in which he was hired in his 18 as a talented and young candidate for a new position, Julian became disillusioned with the corporation in the first six months. But he couldn't leave, because the work supported him financially, and also made it possible to financially help his parents. Working for a greedy corporation that cared nothing but profit, add to that unfriendly co-workers, personal worries, noisy and dirty city environment. He went into a terrible mental state until Julian opened a letter from his grandfather. It was a radical job change, from a manager in a big city to a small farmer somewhere far away. But Julian has always loved plants and animals, knew a little about growing crops, and is already fed up with Joja, so he decided to take a serious step.

7. Everyone

8. Not to say that Julian had a crash on someone. There were Abigail, Shane and Sebastian, with whom Julian had been spending more time lately (and even thought about the proposal to date). But he realized that he did not have a crash, and appreciated their friendship more. But when a pink-haired gallant adventurer appeared on Ginger Island... Julian, not immediately, but as they became good friends, had a crash for the first time in his life

9. Lance (like c'mon)

10. It was already the fourth year when Julian came to Stardew Valley and decided to stay here forever, as he found his happiness in his favorite work, in friends, in his spouse, and in the secrets and magic of the valley which he reveals with curiosity.

11. Julian doesn't mind kids and would make a great parent. But the decision is also made by his soulmate - after all, this is decision for them both. So children or not - Julian will be happy in any case.

12. For Zuzu city - absolutely not. But Pine-mesa city - his parents still live there. And although Julian regularly calls them, exchanges letters, sends financial assistance and crops, he still misses his father and mother a little. But his parents sometimes come to visit him, so Julian does not feel strongly homesick.

13. Julian is an only child, so he has no siblings.

He has a great relationship with his parents! He loves them very much, and his parents answer him the same. Although they were a little worried when they found out that their child was engaged in dangerous adventures, they reconciled themselves, because the son is already an adult boy and decides his own fate.

14. Galaxy sword, and improved version - Infinity blade

15. He can't choose, he loves all his animals

16. Pumpkin. And not even because it is one of the most expensive crops. But because the pumpkin, in fact, is a symbol of autumn, his most beloved and colorful season. In addition, it is fashionable to make many different dishes from pumpkin.

And, well, he also loves apples. Where possible, he plants apple seedlings on the farm.

17. Yes. He likes to explore various ores and gems in the mines, and these materials will help him build many useful things for farming. He also believes that as a member of the Adventurer's Guild, he should reduce the number of monsters in the mines for the safety of the valley. Of course, he makes an exception for the Shadow people after some events, but the fact remains.

18. Julian cooked in his first year... not much. Well, Joja's constant ready-made meals and a banal lack of time did not give him the opportunity to cook for himself often. But when he got used to spending more time at the stove and using his own crops in cooking... Then even Gus would praise him for the delicious vegetable stew, crab cakes and other dishes.

19. Fall 🎃🍁🌽🍁👻

20. From hats - his straw hat and fur headphones. From rings - the connected slime ring and burglar ring. From shoes - his leather boots, which Julian improved with a sewing machine (thanks, Emily)

21. Grandpa's farm

22. Farming, mining and combat

23. Winter is usually a great season to go on adventures and into the mines more often. Although Julian spends every winter weekend either at home with his family or in the Saloon surrounded by his friends.

24. He has a well-furnished cozy wooden cabin. So if someone needs to live on his farm for some reason, there is always a place (even if he also has a guest room at home, there is another little house, just in case)

25. Julian had a very ordinary life. Well, apart from some of his magical manifestations and the ability to see the mystical, which even his parents thought that the boy just had a rich imagination. Due to a slightly unusual appearance (heterochromia of the eyes) and unusual interests, the boy did not have friends, only his parents were his best friends. A gifted, smart and kind boy who just had the misfortune to make friends in his hometown and in Zuzu city. But he make friends and found happiness in Stardew valley, so life is not so bad after all.

[ghostchasersmagazine]

I've been thinking, since you mentioned Alex likely knows of Butch and tried to stand out. But Butch knows nothing about Alex. How would Butch react when he finds out he has a half-brother that he was never told about and how Ace Decade disguised himself as The Phantom? I could see Butch and Alex getting along, but I think Butch would be both devastated and angry at how he was left in the dark about various issues. Mostly at Ace himself.

I do think Alex would try to stand out compared to Butch music-wise, since in my view he takes music more seriously as a career/art form than Butch does, so he tries to avoid writing the more mainstream bubblegum rock/pop type of songs that the Sundance Kids play.

But I think my headcanon about whether Alex was already aware of him and Butch being half brothers has changed (as I honestly don't really remember making that original headcanon post, though I do believe that could have). At the moment my current headcanon is that Alex and Butch find out about being half-brothers around the same time, which is soon after Ace Decade gets arrested.

I actually do have a fic idea for Butch finding out about Ace getting arrested and subsequently meeting Alex. The short version of it is that Mr. Socrates would be the one to tell him, and then would send him + the rest of the Sundance Kids off to Coolsville to meet Alex directly to try and avoid the gossip magazines intervening too much.

As for how Butch would react, I personally don't think he would react with a strong sense of anger or devastation. It would affect him for sure, but I think it would be more of a sense of somber realization. The realization that his suspicions that his father was lying to him was correct, the realization that his father so so obsessed with his job and making money that he would be willing to embezzle products and terrorize his own co-workers to do so.

Part of this is because I feel that Butch himself is not a very outwardly emotional person, preferring to distract himself with his work or his adrenaline-chasing activities, so even if he was actively devastated he wouldn't show it. (Though, I would also agree with the counterargument that if he was truly angry about it that would show through, as he does have moments of noticeable anger.)

The other part of it is that it's my headcanon that he wasn't super close with Ace to begin with, so he wouldn't feel too much betrayal in that sense.

I do agree that Alex and Butch would get along well enough once they get to know each other. It would naturally be awkward at first, both because they're suddenly finding out they're related and because their personalities may not automatically mesh at first, mainly on Butch's side given his independent and aforementioned emotionally closed-off nature.

Going back to my fic idea, I think that the scenario that they meet in may cause slight strain at first too; Butch would, at least subconsciously, resent being thrown into meeting Alex without time to process what had happened, and Alex would be wary of World Wide Talent's intentions of having them meet each other given the current publicity surrounding the situation. But I think the two of them would be able to overcome that and get to know one another.

I don't think they would blame each other for Ace not being close with them or anything like that either. I think there would be an understanding of "my dad is liar so of course he would lie to him too".

I also think there would be an interesting conservation between the two of them about the fact that Ace Decade dressed as The Phantom to commit his crimes. Despite his experiences in Scotland, I imagine that Butch would still find it strange that Ace would dress up as a musician/ghost hybrid to do so, while Alex would be used to it in a way and would be the one to explain to him just how often the "dress as a monster to commit crimes" scenario happens.