#so you just yell done then throw it at the internet and run away

[sf-bl]

(File this under 'sometimes I just want to draw a thing' but also 'working on things way too long until I want to throw them in a fire.') CCEO AU, in their Rhack era: local space station and his boyfriend enjoy inventing new and suggestively-acronymed Echonet protocols for putting a guy's [brain] in your [brain]. (Yes, Rhys has a robotic left arm in this image, due to an upgrade path not backwards-compatible with Having Arms.) [Putting these here to bring the AU all into one tag: https://sf-bl.tumblr.com/tagged/cyber%20ceos mostly Rhack, totally out-of-sequence]

[nokingsonlyfooles]

There goes my confidence again...

So, am I a new version of Sadako that pops out of Patreon and YouTube comments, or do I actually have anything of worth to contribute?

Bleh. I should be posting some long, culturally relevant content today, but my anxiety's in a nosedive. This world eats artists, I see a lot of people who need help, and I want to help them. I want to offer real solutions and organize... But I'm an internet stranger with no social skills and "no legitimacy" as my blog banner says. I get to thinking when I dare talk loud enough to get anyone to look at me, they see me wrapped in a straitjacket and muttering about imaginary elves.

I got four basic modes online - and they do tend to creep into my behavior IRL too, but I'm a bit better at modulating when I get direct feedback. We got: I've perceived you have a higher social standing, which is generally perky, deferent, and fawning; I've perceived we're on about the same level, which has more humor and teasing, but also more visible depression and anxiety; I've perceived I have something you need, otherwise known as teacher-mode, but it can also include financial and emotional support; and I've perceived you're doing damage, which is everything I've learned from being a victim of emotional abuse wrapped up in a tortilla of sarcasm, with citations. It's difficult for me to do more than one of these at once, but I do try.

I have tried, recently, to tell a struggling, queer-friendly YouTube creator that I think I've done enough research to see why the algorithm is trying to kill them, and if they don't change how they organize things it will, but I may just be making them think, "Okay, I have picked up a new Patron and they are insane." I don't know when to just throw money, say something generic and encouraging and go away. If I hear someone yelling for help, I want to go above and beyond, and maybe establish enough of a relationship to go, "Hey, if you need anything, let me know." But, I don't know, maybe that's as weird and inappropriate as licking an animal at the petting zoo - yes, you're invited to touch them, but that's not what they're for.

I cut my teeth during Web 1.0 days, and it was a different time. We were all running around this weird new maze and waving "hi" at each other. That's how I met the guy I married. We weren't putting on masks of social availability to make you develop an attachment and click our content so we'd get enough money to live. Like, you were not going to get enough money to live, no way, so there was about as much incentive to be nice as IRL. Maybe a little less, because of the anonymity. If someone said "hi," they were open for more "hi," and maybe a little chat with AIM or ICQ. Then maybe you could be friends!

Now I'm falling into social situations with people who were in Pull-Ups or not even alive at that time, and I'm still in "hi" mode, even though it's gotten way more complicated and commercial. "Friendly" is something you NEED to do for clicks, comments and algorithm cred. And long-form message board discussions and instant personal messaging are not much of a thing anymore. Everyone's on Discord, putting on their best face for a roomful of people. I found a funny image, may I have some social capital? I made a snappy reply, may I have some social capital? I seem emotionally-available, may I have some social capital? Oh, you gave me a little heart! Is that to be nice or to be SEEN to be nice? Well, either way, I should be nice back at you...

But this is a parasocial relationship. We're not friends. Look, I'm up here and you're down there and there are a lot of you down there. I don't have time to like you. I need to act like I like you so you'll keep clicking, is all.

I'm not real fond of mutual exploitation. I mask enough as it is, and I get so tired. I don't like having to be one of a lot of people who need to act nice so my favourite creators don't starve. And, now I'm gearing up to Blaze my first ever ad for my work, and I don't relish being someone who needs to get you emotionally invested in me so I don't starve, and who can't give anything back except content. I can't fake being open to liking you and being friends, and pull back behind a boundary at the last minute. But it seems like a can't be popular enough to make a go of this and actually like all my supporters.

You know, if I ever get more than three.

There's a part of Night, by Elie Wiesel, where he talked about what people did for food when they were starving in the camps. It really bothered him that some people would trade emotional contact - an ear to listen, a shoulder to cry on - for food. He could forgive a lot, but that just seemed evil. And I - I was in high school at the time - instantly recognized that that was how I got along with my parents, my teachers, basically everyone. It was transactional. I was always looking for whatever it was they needed me to do so they wouldn't harm me, so they'd just let me live. Which is very much the same as trading a hug for food.

Or a warm, welcoming smile for clicks.

And, here I am, about to hit "post now" on social media, with several paragraphs of being emotionally honest. And of course I hope you'll like me enough to keep coming back and reading what I write... But I don't know if I can smile and say "hi" and mean it, or even if I should.

I don't know whether to keep reaching out and saying "I hear you, I'll help" or to stop wandering around the zoo, trying to lick the animals.

Either way, starting Sunday, I'll go back to posting story content (for a limited time) and see if anyone wants to lick me, or if they don't even care enough to tell me "your blog sucks."

[sophism84]

You know we all arrive here on this planet without a guide book and we spend our lives trying to find out why we are here. And after this very long night of mine, I think I have figured my reason why I’m here. So like when I died, I was arguing w someone who literally was like you have to go back. And I was before then and just swelled up and showed them, look this is what I’m living through, I don’t want this anymore don’t make me go back. And they were like let me show you. But the sky was grey that day. The sun was not shining. They said the sun would shine tomorrow when I woke up. I said I was too sad, I couldn’t do it. It didn’t matter they waited for me to say yea. So I woke up to a nurse, an intubation tube and strapped to a bed. I don’t know how to describe those first five minutes other than why the fuck am I strapped down? Lol I can’t breathe lol

Anyway, I’ve met some wild people on the internet. People who are international, I would never speak to them in my normal life. We don’t run in the same circles. But these conversations apparently carry influence. To the point where I’ve heard my words in rhymes set to music, playing through my ear pod at work. And I’m like damn I like this song, then as the week goes on you remember. As if you’re brain is just saying “lol you like this because” this most recent memory escapade where it just HAD to remind me I have talked to this person lol made my memory of something that happened over ten years ago possibly so real.

I was talking to this person, who I now know who they are cause, anyway we were talking about our childhood, and I was like “no sorry I never grew up w that stuff my school was poor” and lord was it. We had teachers who hit us for discipline, my fifth grade teacher would crank the ac down to 55 if that possible, and yell at us that we were retarded and that he bets ours moms still wipe our butts, I remember my tummy grumbling and being so tired hungry and cold I just wanted to die lol and heck yes I reported him. Lol I just got moved classrooms where he walked me inbetween rooms where he put his hand on the small of my back pushed me into the new room and told his friend the new teacher I needed a teacher who “talked nicer” lol cause IM THE PROBLEM lol okay!

Anyway someone close to me in 2000 did something illegal legally lol which is funny that saved my life. I never knew they like actually loved me until they dd this and everything happened and now that I look back the industry they worked in and the knowledge they had, they def stuck their neck out. Anyway this person was in need. For something that was entirely out off my control. And I couldn’t do a thing. But I answered a couple more questions for this person on the internet. I don’t remember if I asked straight out. But this person on the internet helped out ny person. And how I found out was I was w my person and they were explaining what was going on now, and they said the thing that made it all possible. And let me tell you it didnt fully hit me in that moment. But I did feel like I had a secret I could never tell a soul, cause it might go away lol but damn did it throw my mind into wtf that’s not real like absolutely no way haha that’s insane. Lol but the craziest thing. My person and I are not close anymore. And they will never know that the reason they’re good now, is cause I talked w someone on the internet. But how do you repay someone for possibly saving your life or I guess literally. They don’t need to know how it happened to them and if they ever did there would be so many questions I couldn’t answer and they may never believe me cause it’s so crazy how could it be?

This is also the most wonderful thing anyone has ever done for me. Out of any conversations I’ve had w so many people. I’ve heard more songs I would like to admit after my convos. Anyway. I guess that’s why I’m here? To talk to people and just see them live out their lives. And no one will know but me. Lol cause this is why I’m here. Not to be an asshole, but I’m tired. I don’t really wanna not be here anymore lol this shit not fun anymore.

On an unrelated note. I hate that we exist at the same time. I can’t tell you the depths of sadness when I realized everything and came to the conclusion. The one I have needed to arrive at. I will never admit it to your face. But I am so hurt and angry at god that we exist in the same time. Did you have to show up? Why would god do this to me?

The mostest best lovely thing is you might read this and you will never know it’s about you. And that makes me feel better.

[civildisorderstream]

Feeling Alive

Last week I almost let myself lose. I was almost done, completely forgotten and ineffectual on the world.

There's a constant in my life and it's something I've been actively aware of only for the past ten years or so. To get right to it, the only times I feel truly alive and have a lust for life are the times where I am confronting an adversary. It's easiest when it is direct, like the bullies I faced when I was a child. The more difficult conjuration is the abstract enemy, like capitalism, or general asshole behavior perpetuated by the internet. Cruelty, that sort of thing.

Just now, I had an epiphany. The straw that broke the camel's back and almost had me end my life, I have just now realized a manner in which it is an adversary. To 'defeat,' too dramatic, and my feelings about that situation don't run that deep.

But to get back at?

I want it. I yearn for it. I am NOT backing down until I get what I now realize is an owed apology. It's too soon to ask for such, even if I had the means right at this moment. It will take time and resources and a platform to be in a position to demand it, but it will be worth it. Not only for its own sake, but those abstract things I've stood against my whole life, I'll be better equipped for it to take it all on.

I live to spite things. Terrible things and terrible people. I wish I could live for myself, I wish I could life out of a sense of love.

The fact of the matter is, I will always be incompatible with others. Friendships and belonging in communities, it's all a luxury I will never have. But as long as I have something to fight against, to yell about, what the hell do I care? I said at the start that I almost let myself lose. Over the years, I have been scolded, rejected, lost in very tangible manners that include near homelessness. None of those consequences has resulted in me changing. I know in my heart what is right to stand for and the only person that could ever take that away is myself.

I almost lost to myself. What a foolish goddamn thing.

I'll stay out of peoples' lives for their sake, and I don't deny what was said of me being abusive. I may not mean it, but that doesn't matter, because it's something I fall into doing and it's still a wrong I end up doing to others. So distance is the best shield for them and me.

But this whole arrangement can only work out if one thing is granted to me: that they, be it you the reader or people I've known in the past (fleeting or personally close) don't stand in the way of my fight against the awful hate and power structures in our society.

No, it isn't something I do alone, and I've been such a quiet voice in lending mine to others who do the same. But all those people, the advocates you all know, the famous people who occasionally throw their power into these fights, they all can do it from a place of love and can speak with voices that move and motivate people.

I am incapable of that. And the big takeaway I have from last week is that realization. But in having that realization, I can now focus on my strengths. For as unappealing a person I am in a general sense, there have been times I have helped people. I have kept people from attempting what I tried to do to myself last week. I have motivated people to stand up to their bosses or abusive work environments and make change, even if it was just in one single location for place of employment. But damn it, it was change, and it was worth it.

More importantly, I have been thanked for these things and people have had happier lives for it. Even if over the course of time I'm not there to be a part of theirs anymore.

That makes it worth it. I don't need the approval of people who sit on the sidelines who pearl clutch about decorum.

I. Am. Alive.

EDITED ADDENDUM: To speak plainly; I am vocally aggressive. It's incompatible with communities where things are meant to be chill and forever hide away from the troubles of the world. I tried to change, and I failed, so those places aren't for me. On another point, my behavior - while resulting in reprimands over the years - has also yielded approval (even from authority figures in any given situation). Sometimes people gaslight me on having mental health problems with their armchair diagnosing being based on my views (workers should be paid better, LGBTQ rights, etc). Those people will forever be wrong, even if they're telling me about "time and place" for that stuff. It is ALWAYS the time and place to say people should be treated right and trying to stifle that means YOU are the problem, NOT ME.

[ramp-it-up]

The One

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warmings:  18+, Minors DNI. Curate your own experience. Cursing, drinking, running, a raging argument in an established relationship, name calling, taunting, drunken raging, Twitter. SMUT, explicit, rough sex, fingering, tit slapping, orgasm denial, spitting, oral sex (mostly female receiving). Also, I’m sleepy. 😴

A/N: Not proofread. Also, I know very little about Chris and Jenny, and have no real opinion about their relationship. I made up the scenario about what happened there for the purposes of the story. THANKS FOR 400 FOLLOWERS TONIGHT! 🥳🎉🎊🍾👏🏽🎈

This fic is based on the following ask:

Anonymous asked:

Imagine idea :

Chris is drunk after a fight with the reader. He was On Twitter and saw some pics with Jenny and when the reader comes in he screams at her and says that Jenny was the one and not the reader. The reader get sad because she was always kind of insecure about the age gap with Chris. The day after he didn’t know what he says and she don’t say anything because she got the feeling that he was right. But one thing both didn’t noticed that Chris was drunk calling Scott and he knows everything Chris says and drive to Chris to give him a good clamp ahahhaha Chris was drunk and Just mentioned her name because he saw a post with Jenny.

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

It had been the perfect day.

You slept in, then had a late brunch at home. 

You saw a message from Chris’ former co-star, Heidi, light up his phone that he’d plugged in on the kitchen counter when you two were tidying up.

You wondered why he was texting the bitch even after you told him that she wanted him. And after he agreed to cut off contact out of respect for you.

Heated, you didn’t even look around before you picked it up, put in his code and read a string of friendly, if not borderline flirty, texts.

Chris walked in the kitchen, caught you, and yelled at you for being in his phone. 

“What the hell is going on?”

“Exactly! What is going on, Chris. I thought we talked about this?” 

Chris rolled his eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, it’s a big fucking deal.”

You threw his phone on the marble countertop, which caused Chris to pick it up to see if it was cracked. Your temper was too much.

“We’re just friends! She knows we’re together, y/n!” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“And I know women, Chris. That doesn’t fucking matter to her. Sometimes you’re so oblivious. Or act like you are.” You huffed and rolled your eyes.

“I know you want to leave me for someone more glamorous and beautiful. Someone who will put up with your shit, everyone the media says you’re fucking. Go ahead and just do it!”

Chris’s temper was really rising now. You could tell as the red creeped up his chest to his neck. 

“Stop fucking saying that!” Chris was screaming now. “Is that what you want? To end it? Because you don’t have to make me do it. If you want to leave, just leave.”

You said shit like that a lot. And it scared and angered him. He wanted to know if you were trying to make him break up with you so you would be free.

“Why are you being such a fucking…” Chris stopped himself. He knew better than to call you out of your name.

Your head almost spun around. You smiled evilly. 

“Go ahead, say what you wanna say, Chris. Or are you scared?”

Chris exploded. “A fucking BITCH.”  He was shaking because you went there.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I’m not fucking anyone else!”

Chris lost it and punched the wall, making a hole in the drywall and definitely injuring his hand.

You just stood there with your mouth open and in silence. You went toward him to look at his hand, and he just put both of them up, backing away from you and going to the liquor cabinet.

He retreated to the deck with a bottle of Jameson’s. He wanted to dull the pain, in his hand, and in his heart. He hated when you hurt each other.

You understood that you both crossed the line, so you let him be. You went upstairs to change into your running clothes to get out and clear your head.

Chris settled on a deck lounger, started drinking from the bottle and got online, which is never a good thing, but he needed something to distract him. He started reading tweets about himself, and following a thread of Chris + Jenny stans.

The more he drank, the more he started reminiscing.

There were good times. He was happy. Mostly. He thought she was the one. Sometimes. But she broke his heart. He was just a rebound. 

Her handsome arm candy.

Then he thought of you. His heart melted; you really loved him. He was sure of it. But loving him was hard. He realized that you felt the same way about him that he felt about Jenny. Always waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Insecure. 

And you had good reason to be. Everything you’d said about women coming after him was true. But what you didn’t realize is that since he’d met you other women didn’t matter to him. 

You were the one, not Jenny.

Chris began to get melancholy. He’d fucked up. You were nothing but good to him and you just asked him to respect you and listen to your feelings. He’d ignored that. 

Shit, why did he yell at you like that?  

He went to erase Heidi’s contact and block her number. He was confident that you were never going to throw him away like Jenny did. She was the one who’d hurt him. Not you. Never you. He recognized that you wouldn’t ever hurt him on purpose.

His mind was racing with how to apologize when you came back. He was an idiot. The pain in his heart was replaced with regret and his hand had slowed to a dull throb.

But then 30 minutes turned to 3 hours, and by the time you got back, the bottle was empty and Chris’s eyes were red with rage and worry. 

Maybe you were just like Jenny after all.

--------

You ran, and then went to get some coffee. You ran into Shelby at the cafe and distracted yourself with mindless chatter, then walked back. You were ready to apologize by the time you opened the door.

When he heard the door, Chris picked up his phone and met you in the living room. He was obviously shitfaced.

“WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN!?” 

Chris’s voice boomed throughout the house and you jumped. Then you just stood there, shocked at his outburst. 

“The hell are you talking to me like that?” 

He was unsteady on his feet. He leaned toward you, and you could tell that someone was spinning the room for him.

“I don’t want it to be you!” 

He had to let you know that he knew that you wouldn’t be the one to hurt him. Chris pointed his phone at you. 

“You’re not the one. Jenny’s the only one. Not you! Not ever you!”

You couldn’t believe your ears. But then again you could. It was what you were afraid of. You were head over heels. And Chris could find someone on his level. Like Jenny.

“Well, Fuck You very much, Chris.” 

You brushed your tears away and ran past him up the stairs to the bedroom, locking the door and crying your eyes out. You got out your suitcase.

----

Chris started up after you, calling your name, and then suddenly needed to duck in the downstairs bathroom to throw up. 

He tried to make it up the stairs and had to sit down on the floor near the bottom. Then, he needed to lay down just for a minute.

The next thing Chris knew, it was morning, and he woke up to a pounding on the door and in his head. He rolled over on the floor, and something stabbed him in the side.

Groaning, he reached down and saw your keys to his house, his cars, and his life, all on the Tiffany heart keychain he’d given them to you. He was staring at them, confused, when Scott opened the door with his key.

“There he is. My brother. The fuck up.”

Chris groaned again, sat up on the bottom stair and held his head. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Nevermind me. It’s not often I get to say that, only when you publish your dick pic to the internet or you RUN OFF THE BEST THING THAT’S EVER HAPPENED TO YOU!”

Chris winced when Scott yelled, his head a pounding mass of meat wrapped in fuzzy cotton. 

He didn’t understand why he was being tortured and he didn’t understand why his hand hurt.  He looked at it, all bruised up, and the keys inside it.

“Just tell me, Scott. Why are you here?”

Scott leaned up against the door. 

“Did you know you drunk dialed me last night?” 

Chris looked up at Scott, and his face was a sight as his brother told him what he’d said to you.

“Fuuuuuck me!” He put his head in his hands again. 

“I don’t know if she ever will again,” Scott joked, but Chris didn’t laugh. 

“I called her after you apparently passed out and wouldn't pick up your phone.  She was ready to catch an early morning flight, but I convinced her to sleep in today and leave tomorrow.”

Chris moved his hands down from his eyes and stared out the patio doors, trying to think.

“I put her up in the Four Seasons, on your dime of course.  Room 6145. Penthouse. Could be pretty romantic. If she were in that kind of mood.”

Chris looked up at Scott, smiled weakly, jumped up and hugged him, then made for the door. Scott jumped in front of him.

“Trust me, you’ll want to get some water and coffee in you, and shower and brush your teeth. You look and smell like shit.”

“Right.” Chris nodded, flexing his hand. He could still move it. He was glad it wasn’t broken. “Thanks, bro.”

“No problem.” Scott walked into the bathroom as Chris went to the kitchen, groaning when he saw the hole in the wall. He’d have to ask Scott to get it fixed before you saw it again. 

If he could convince you to come back.

----

It was 11 am, and Scott had verified that you were still in the room. Chris just stood there, nervous and terrified that you were just going to be done with him.

Room service came and headed toward your door. Chris waved them down and when they saw his face, they stopped in their tracks, shocked.

“Hey, can you do me a favor?”

----

You climbed out of the wonderful deep jetted tub, having soaked until the water got cold and your fingers were wrinkled. You pulled on the plush Four Seasons terry cloth robe that was provided with the suite.

You felt calmer than last night, and after some sleep and relaxation, you realized that you’d been a fool to think that Chris would want you forever like you thought.

It was for the best that you leave and start over, to focus on your consulting business and yourself for a while.

You opened the door with a smile on your face for the attendant, and you let them into the room, your back turned to the door while they brought the cart in. You turned back around and there was Chris.

You grew heated, and your heart began to race while the attendant scurried out. Chris’s face was a welcome sight, but you were still angry.

There you were, looking so beautiful, curls tied up in your favorite silk scarf, cocoa skin radiant in a white fluffy robe.  You should have been comfortable, but your eyes were wide and scared.

He’d done this to you.

“Fuck, y/n… I…”

You interrupted him. 

“You’ve got some mutha fuckin nerve. How dare you just run up in here, using that fucking face,” you flung your hand up, “using who you are to get into my room. How did you even know where…?”  

Your mouth dropped open at the realization of what Scott had done. You turned on your heel to get your things. You didn’t care that you were naked under your robe. You didn’t care that you still loved Chris. You were out. This second.

Chris moved to block you from entering the bedroom of the suite. You tried to push past him, all 5’ 4” of you versus 6 feet of him.

“Move, Chris!” 

You glared up at him, your body responding to him in ways you weren’t prepared to admit. You were betrayed by your pussy.

“I just want you to listen to me.  Then you can leave, stay, do whatever you want. Just hear me out.”

You and him physically was always the shit. His arms across his chest did things to you  But you kept mean mugging him, making him hard for you. 

You stepped back and said, “Okay.  You have 10 minutes.  Then I’m out, Chris.”

You paced back to the couch in the living room of the suite, watching him warily.

Chris paced in front of you, making it inevitable that you follow his lean form back and forth across the carpet. You noticed that his hand was bandaged and that he kept flexing it. 

You hoped it wasn’t broken. No matter what, you cared what happened to him. You would always love him. Even if it was the end of your relationship.

“First of all, I’m sorry. My anger got the best of me, and I was violent and that is never acceptable.  Even though I didn’t touch you, it’s not ok, and I know it was intimidating. I take responsibility.”

He stopped and looked at you, you melted a little, but you didn’t give any outward sign. Being a business owner taught you a mean poker face. 

But the shirt he was wearing made his true blue eyes pop and you could see a hint of his chain around his neck under the fitted henley.

You suppressed a shiver at the memory of the things you did to have that chain and medallion wave in your face, to have it clenched between your teeth as Chris had his way with you, and you with him.

You focused on him, pointedly looking at your watch. Chris’ anxiety peaked when he saw that.

He stepped toward you and thought that he recognized the look in your eyes.  He was almost sure that you still wanted him, sure that you still cared.  He could only hope as he came closer.

“And then I started drinking. And while you were gone, I came across some posts about me and Jenny. And it took me back there.”

At those words, you crossed your arms and averted your eyes, defenses up. You didn’t want to hear about how much he loved Jenny.

Then, Chris swiftly moved to sit on his haunches, becoming eye level with you.  

“And I realized that she never really loved me. Not like you loved me.”  

Chris speaking about your love in the past tense made you a little angry and you stared him in the eyes. 

It was just the reaction he hoped for. Your attitude. He loved it. He hid a smirk so that he could continue, but you saw the glimmer in his eyes. And you rolled yours.

Chris then picked up the sash to your robe and started playing with it, your eyes drawn to his thick fingers. You didn’t know why that was getting you hot, but it was. You opened your mouth to breathe.

Chris’s voice cracked when he said. “And to me she was the mountaintop. Another, different kind of conquest. But I realized that I never really loved her. Not like I love you.”

Present tense.

Now you were looking into his eyes, about to fall into them. Shit. He had you hooked. But then you remembered, and drew back.

“Yeah, I know what I said, but what I was trying to express was that I know it could never be you to hurt me like Jenny did. That I didn’t want you to hurt me like she did. Not when I’ve thought about forever…” 

He moved even closer. “I mean forever, forever, with you.”

All of a sudden you couldn’t breathe. Chris got on his knees.

“I want to be in this position again with you one day. One day soon. But not like this. I don’t want it to be to try to get you back. I want us to be good.” 

He sighed, pensive. “I want you to be smiling and happy, and even have our families there.”

You don’t know how your face looked at that moment, but Chris started smiling at you. You were so beautiful to him right now.

“I was drunk, and I couldn’t use my words correctly. I yelled and I screamed and I punched the wall. I fucked up and may have lost you forever, but I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.” 

You felt yourself get emotional, but you tried to calm down.

“I’m just so fucking scared that you will get tired of all the bullshit that comes with me and leave… and I absolutely wouldn’t blame you. But there’s no one else, y/n.  No one else can compare…”

“Chris…” 

You raised your hand to his face, eyes searching his. You could tell he was being honest.

Chris grabbed your hand and started kissing your palm.

“So.” He looked at you with those eyes. “Is this goodbye?…” His lips were giving you shivers. “Or hello again? Can we start over?”

Chris trailed his lips from your palm, to the pulse point at your wrists and lingered there, licking the delicate skin. Then he moved up your arm to the opening in the robe. 

He pushed his torso in between your legs and leaned into your neck, inhaling the lavender bath oil that was your favorite. And his, too. 

He moaned as you leaned your head to the side, giving him access. But he didn't just want the physical. He breathed into the shell of your ear. 

“Please come home, baby…”

You just moaned as he started sucking right below your ear, your spot. Desire took over for Chris when he heard your sounds.

“Fuck it. I can tell that you still want me. If this is goodbye, then I’m going to make it worth your time.”

Your back arched and Chris palmed your bounteous ass over the robe, pulling you flush to his crotch.  He smiled as he felt the warmth coming from you.

“You’re so fucking warm, babe. Are you wet, too?  Are you wet for me? Do you want my cock? I mean, do you want your thick, fat, cock to fuck you babe?” 

Chris was kissing down your neck into the cleavage that the robe was revealing with each sentence as you opened your legs. Your pussy was quivering for him, but you still didn’t answer him.

Chris looked up at you with those eyes and pulled on the robe sash. It fell open and he looked down and bit his lip, taking in your warm skin, lovely breasts, and elegant pussy, with the manicured triangle of hair kept like he preferred, and offered up for his taking. 

You still looked like his girl, and he smiled as he looked up into your eyes. But he had to be certain. He lowered his head, keeping eye contact and descended toward one small hard mountain peak, kissing it gently, tentatively, while watching you.

You were mesmerized as his tongue peeked out and licked it, then he opened his lips and enveloped it, moistening it with his pink lips. 

The look on your face compelled him, and he fully enveloped your nipple and started sucking roughly, still keeping eye contact. You were determined not to close your eyes, but it was difficult. You bit your lip to stay still.

Chris’s bandaged hand was dangerous, however, and it came up to pinch and roll your other nipple. You arched into his hand as he became rougher and rougher. 

He switched nipples and hands and his saliva made your breast that much more pliable and sensitive. He slapped it, and then rubbed it with the rough bandage, making you cry out and moan as his other hand trailed down your body to your cunt.

“This pussy will still be mine, even if you leave me.” He smiled cockily while looking down on it. 

He looked at you, before lifting his hand to his mouth, looking straight into your eyes and spitting on his fingers before bringing them down to your cunt.

“I think, that if even if you leave and  move back to Houston, and I come to town, that if I I call you, even if you’re with someone else, you would meet me in a parking lot and let me fuck you over the hood of my rental car.” 

He was faintly tracing your pussy lips and instantly your control was gone. You were sopping wet, because of his words and because of the knowledge that what he was saying was the truth.

“Oh,” was all you could say. You were adding to the wetness of the saliva on his fingers.

Chris smiled and tilted his head as his two thick digits breached your opening. He had his answer as you threw your head back and let him finger fuck you while he rolled and slapped and pinched your nipple.

His thumb was lightly brushing your clit and you wanted so much more.  Chris could sense that and he pressed down roughly on it, causing an electric jolt up your body, which you keened for, arching your body into his hand.

Chris moved his hand from your breast to your neck and applied the pressure that you wanted and needed and that he was expert at while he stuffed another finger inside you and circled your clit with his thumb. 

You floated among the clouds as you came like fireworks, and all over his hand.  

He watched you come undone, and come down, rubbing his hard cock through his pants with one hand while he sucked your juices off his fingers, releasing each with a loud pop.  When you opened your eyes, you smiled.

You pulled his hand and started licking yourself off him, flattening your tongue against his palm. 

“I forgive you Chris. I forgave you when you conned your way into my room, you ass.” 

You smiled against his hand as he groaned, relieved and desperate for you.

“But you still have some work to do.”

“What do you want? Anything.”  

Now Chris was breathless, anticipating payback.

“First, you need to take those damn clothes off.”

He quickly moved to take off his shirt, and then stood up to take off his pants.  You smirked as hs cock sprang up immediately when he peeled them down. He wasn’t wearing underwear.

Chris caught your look. 

“What? I wanted to be prepared.”  He chuckled softly while pumping his cock lightly, expecting to immediately fuck you.

He moved toward you. But you quickly moved off the couch and into the bedroom, forcing him to follow you, and his dick, into the other room.

You sat on the edge of the bed as he remained standing. 

“What do you need, babe?”

You reached for his cock and tugged it toward you, opening your mouth and deep throating it, wetting it from root to tip and then spit on it. Chris moaned as you started to stroke. Then you stopped.

“I need you to jack off for me.” 

“Ugh! You’re so fucking nasty. I love you.”

Chris instantly started where you left off. This didn’t seem like work.

You leaned back on your elbows, watching him, and licking your lips.

“And I need for you not to stop, and not to come. Until I tell you.” 

You looked him in the eye and that was when Chris knew he was doomed.  A chill ran down his spine as you reached down and started playing with your pussy.

“Fuck!”

You looked so damn good.  He licked his lips and stroked harder and faster, his balls drawing up already. 

“Shit, y/n.”

You watched his eyes, and got wetter at his blown pupils and glazed look. 

“You like that?”

“Fuck yeah.”  

His voice was broken and desperate. He fisted his cock, and held his balls, trying to stave off the inevitable. 

You turned around, got on your knees and reached back between your legs and ran your fingers up and down your slit.

“How about that?”

“Goddamnit!” 

Chris grunted as he tried to hold it in. You were a goddess. He licked his lips. Wanting to taste you. So he did. 

He dove in, tongue competing with your fingers to command your slit. You finally gave in to his expert mouth and he savored your salty goodness.

“Fuck, Chris, you better still be…”

“I am. Christ.” 

He was leaking in his hand, but he had it under control. Barely.

Chris stopped eating you out for a second, grabbed your ass cheek with one hand, stretched you open, spit on your tighter hole, and watched it slide down your satin lips to drip onto the bed. 

His warm saliva made your pussy quiver and he watched it lovingly. Then he dove in again.

He sped up his movements with his other hand and you could hear the smooth skin of his dick sliding on his palm while his tongue did forbidden things to you.

“Ffffffuuckkkkkkk! Chrisssss.” 

You came, burying your scream in the mattress, and even harder than before. You couldn’t believe that he’d turned the tables on you.

Chris ate you out through your orgasm, holding you down with one hand like it was nothing. 

He was god of war, love, and sex, all at once. 

Fuck Captain America.

You came again, almost immediately.

When he was done with his meal, he let you go, wiped his mouth with the back of his free hand and stepped back.

“Fuck, what do you want me to do? I can’t take it much longer…” Chris’s sexy growling voice got to you. 

“What do you wanna do, Chris? How do you want to take me, Daddy?”  Chris’s cock jumped in his hand, he slapped your ass, and watched it jiggle.

Chris entered your wet, wet pussy, and marvel how if felt like it was choking the life out of him.  He had to stop moving, or he would burst almost immediately.

“How the fuck are you so wet, but so tight.  It’s like a fucking vice grip, geeze.” 

You both waited and felt it jump inside you, then Chris reached down, grabbed you by the neck and pulled you upright and flush to his chest.  

One hand clutched your throat and the other arm hooked under your leg, allowing him to piston up into you upright while your other leg dangled, your big toe barely touching the ground.

Chris held you and fucked up into you, grunting each time the large mushroom cap head of his cock was stuffed into your pussy. 

“Ugh, gatdamn it, you were thinking of leaving, ugh, you wanted to leave this, mmmmmm, this dick that, ugh, that fucks you like this?” 

Chris’s mouth was near your ear, which was on his shoulder because your head had fallen back on his chest. He was using you like a sex toy as he fucked you senseless. 

His dick slicked in and out of you with obscene wetness, Chris somehow lifting you up and slipping completely out of you and pounding back into you with force.

“Chris!!!” 

You started shaking, your center of gravity being where you and he were connected.

He fucked you even harder and faster, chasing his release, but he maneuvered his hand to find your clit, refusing to come before you. 

“Fuck! You know you were going to miss this cock that your sweet cunt fits… like…  a …mutha …fuckin…  glove!” 

"Ahhhh!" 

You screamed as you fluttered around his cock. He could take only so much before he had to shut his eyes and bite down on your collarbone. Chris’s legs were trembling now.

"Take all of it!." He was hitting your spot.  "How does it feel?" 

Although the feeling was intense, you tried to speak. 

"L-l-l-like h-heav-v-v-ennnnn." 

The sound of your voice made his release start to build. 

With each of his thrusts, the sweet tightness began to build until you came, screaming and moaning in pleasure.

“Oh shiiiiitttttt!”  Chris exploded inside your tight wet cunt. He wanted to fill you up like never before. He wanted to put his baby in you and tie you forever to him. That made his balls empty.

He fell back on the bed, with you on top of him, slipping out of you and depositing you on the bed beside him.

Chris couldn't help but smile as you both came down.  He was made for this.

Chris put his hand on your cheek, brushing your beautiful lips with his thumb. You smiled under his attention into his sea blue eyes.

“I love you.” You grinned. 

“God, I love you.”  You sobered up, taking in the weight of his words.

“Is it weird that I want to get you pregnant before we’re married?”

You made a face.

“Who says I want to marry you?”

Chris scooped you in his arms and rolled you over on top of him.

“You don’t want to marry me? You’d say no if I asked?” 

You held in a giggle.

“Nah. I’m gonna move back to Houston and marry someone else so you can come in town and fuck me over the hood of your rental car. That sounds hot as fuck.”

Chris released an anxious breath.

You took his head in your hands.

“Easy now. Ask what you want to ask.” Chris started to speak. You put your finger over his mouth.  

“When you want to ask it.” You looked into his eyes again. “I won’t break your heart.”

Chris smiled at you and said, “I know.” He kissed you. 

And when you pulled away, breathless, he told you, “You’re the One.”

----------- Read Part Two: It Takes Two

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[remakethestars]

Being Batman’s Daughter Would Include:

Headcanons.

❝Listen, Robin. At their core, people are cowardly and self-serving. Trust no one until you know them. And even then, never completely.❞

— Bruce Wayne, “The Lesson Plan”

TRIGGER WARNING: Plant murder. Mentions of drugs/tranqs (stopping dealers), violence/physical harm, broken bones (knee cap), limb dislocation (shoulder), (Jason’s) death, smoke, waterboarding/drowning?

Headcanon masterlist.

You know how every teenager has that paradigm shift because as much as they love the people around them, they’ll never know the inner workings of your psyche? And they realize they’ll never truly be known? And it makes them feel really lonely?

Yeah, you never come to feel like that because you know Bruce digs so far into everyone around him he probably knows you better than you do.

Honestly, he probably reads your diary. At least, he reads the fake one you hide under your mattress. And the second decoy in the A.C. vent above your dresser.

If you’re as paranoid as Bruce, you probably don’t have a diary, and the aforementioned “decoys” are just to mess with him.

Sun Tzu’s The Art of War was practically your Bible growing up.

You’re torn between giving yourself the tactical advantage of being underestimated & being non-reactive, which — besides giving you the lioness role in the lion–gazelle dynamic — gives you the advantage of having time to think carefully on the repercussions before speaking.

Because, as Sun Tzu said in chapter seven, verse twenty-one, “Ponder and deliberate before you make a move.”

Seeing as Bruce and Damian both have eidetic memories, I’m guessing you do too. 

Which means you totally read the dictionary when you were young and whip our big words nobody’s heard of.

Bruce always assured you it’s okay to be scared. As a matter of fact, like he told Dick (seen in flashbacks in “The Lesson Plan”), he taught you to “Let terror embrace you. The better you know fear, the better you can use it against others.”

And we all know Bruce is the paragon of using fear against people.

Take that, Scarecrow!

(See, I chose that gif because earlier in that move, he displays a fear of bats, & in that scene, he summons them to use as a distraction and walks through them completely unperturbed. No? Okay, I’ll see myself out.)

You started into the vigilante business young, a little bulge under the back of Batman’s cape that made the rest of the Justice League in the meeting think Bruce was host to an alien parasite until your little mask-covered eyes poked up over his shoulder.

The League’s known you since you were young, so they kind of all see you as their niece. That just quadruples the amount of people who are overprotective of you.

Eventually, in your tweens, you think enough’s enough and start out on your own — being underestimated may be an advantage, but it’s getting ridiculous — and you tackle unsolved cases.

You set up various safe houses around the world for your own disposal (using the zeta tubes) and anyone who sees the inside of one in an emergency is always surprised. You don’t really understand why; what serious vigilante doesn’t have secure, state-of-the-art safe locations scattered across the planet?

Sometimes, it gets you into danger, but you always get yourself out of it. If there ever comes a time you can’t, well, you’ve got a direct link to Batman, and if communications fail, you can always yell for your Uncle Clark at the top of your lungs.

If the latter ever comes to fruition, you ask Bruce if he’s disappointed you had to call for back-up or that you called Superman instead of Batman, and he says, “It takes a strong person to admit when they’re weak, [Y/N]; if anything, I’m proud of you. Besides … you’re not the only one who yells for Uncle Clark when they get in over their head.”

Your training entailed hacking and mechanics, so you like to fix computers and sell them on the internet Hugh Jeffreys style. It started out with Macs from the dumpster behind Gotham Academy and turned into a surprising side hustle. Large portions of your profits go into either savings or funding your extracurricular activities. 

You’re using a MacBook that’s running Linux and an iPhone 4 that’s running your own program. 

At some point, your phone falls into the wrong hands, and someone asks why it has such high security. You deadpan and say, “I have three older brothers.” No further explanation required.

One such solo case led you to a ring of drug dealers working in a small town outside of Gotham. You made some tranquillizers and heavy-duty smoke bombs and busted out your shinobi-iri training.

After sliding on a mask covering the bottom half of your face that filtered out smoke, you set all of the bombs off at once in the ventilation system, filling the building and using the infrared in your domino mask to sedate everyone before the cops arrived so no one got hurt (because there would inevitably be a firefight if the cops got involved).

You never go into a situation expecting to go hand-to-hand with someone; you always have a plan to take our your targets quickly an efficiently.

One night, when you’re working on a cold case in Gotham, you stumble across some intel that Poison Ivy’s been stockpiling chemicals and is going to wipe out all human life on Earth.

Luckily for you, Bruce’s paranoia is hereditary; you just happen to carry some white kryptonite in your belt, so you won’t have to go all the way back to the cave to obtain some.

You type out a quick debrief on your wrist computer in case you end up needing to send out an S.O.S., pop on your bottom mask to filter out spores or pheromones she might send in your direction, and bust out your shinobi-iri training again.

Of course, you try the peaceful approach, explaining to Ivy that you agree with her on the tree-hugger front to build rapport (T.B.F., who doesn’t?), but it comes to physical confrontation. You kill every vine that comes your way with a quick punch from your kryptonite ring, toss an expanding polyurethane foam bomb (see Batgirl #38) at her feet, and manage to get an inhibitor collar on her.

Gordon takes her away, and by the next morning, it’s on the news.

“You took down Ivy by yourself?” Bruce asks when you come down for breakfast.

“… Yeah,” you say after a moment, expecting a tongue-lashing.

“Are you hurt?”

“No. She didn’t get a hit in. And before you ask, I had a contingency set up in case things went sideways.”

“… Good job.”

Your dad has the article framed in the batcave, which is the bat-equivalent of having your drawing on the fridge or getting a sticker back on a test.

You’re fighting a grin for the rest of the day.

It bugs you you can’t tell anyone why you’re so happy, so you visit Dick in Blüdhaven while he’s on patrol and give him a play-by-play. You even get a hair-ruffle!

Deathstroke targets you at some point. One of Batman and Nightwing’s worst villains, and he targets you because he knows they love you. You’re the smallest bat at the time, the weakest; he thinks you’ll be the easiest to take.

Boy, was he wrong.

He was trained by the League of Assassins, so you know dropping a smoke bomb’s not going to give you cover (and his mask probably has infrared). His brain processes faster than yours, so tricking him is improbable. He’s probably done enough research on you to know you favor foam bombs and has fast enough reflexes to dodge before they go off.

And he’s jammed your comms so you can’t call for backup. You’re worried he’s got kryptonite on him and will hurt Superman if you call for help.

It’s just you and him.

He has enhanced stamina, so he tries to wear you out. You maintain distance to avoid taking damage and wearing faster.

You always admired Tim for his ability to plan ahead (see, like, the entirety of the Red Robin comics). He doesn’t know how he does it; he just does. He can’t really teach you, so you just watch and learn.

You realize your fight with Slade is just a matter of managing the distance and immobilizing him, so you strike. You duck behind a pillar or grab onto a railing or something and shoot him through the thigh with your grappling gun, reeling him in. He, of course, draws his sword or a knife to cut the line, but you’re already throwing high-density expanding polyurethane bombs.

And, just like that, you’ve single-handedly taken Deathstroke.

It sends a clear message to the rest of the Gotham villains, Blüdhaven’s villains, the League of Assassins — don’t mess with the bat’s little girl. She can hold her own.

Now it’s time for you to come up with another plan to take him down; you doubt the same method will work twice, and you’ve just made a very powerful enemy.

As Wonder Woman’s said, “Do not mistake a desire to avoid violence for an inability to deal with it.” You might go into most situations with a plan to take down your opponent already in motion, but when it comes to an all-out brawl, you’re perfectly capable and don’t pull your punches.

You’re working on an unsolved case in Blüdhaven (Dick’s got enough on his plate) when you get an S.O.S. from the aforementioned along with the feed and recording from his mask. You listen to the mission briefing while you ride back to the cave and then the audio from the Young Justice mission. They got jumped by the League of Shadows in an abandoned factory, and Talia’s trying to coerce Damian into joining the League or whatever.

The usual dropping some smoke bombs and tranqing everyone isn’t going to work on thirty armed League assassins who were trained to fight blind, so you load up on polyurethane foam bombs and call Jason and Cassandra.

The three of you take out the guards outside before splitting up and taking either end of the building (Cass stays with you). You meet in the middle, in the room the team’s being held in.

You highjacked the speakers, so they’re blasting AC/DC’s “Shoot to Thrill” upon Jason’s insistence. You wanted Zayde Wølf or Alice Cooper’s “Hey, Stoopid,” but big brothers will be big brothers.

Jason pops them with rubber bullets from above to slow them down for you while Cass demolishes them and you drop foam bombs, slinging your signature custom shuriken, bonk them over the head with Tim’s staff you picked up along the way, dislocate their arms, or shatter their kneecaps. 

You and Jason get a couple slices from swords that got a little too close, but it’s nothing compared to what you’ve had before. 

When the fighting’s done and the building’s quiet, the team’s, like, “Who the heck are you guys?” 

And Dick’s, like, 😏 “They’re our siblings.” 

Speaking of siblings, you’re older than Damian, and as such, you take upon yourself the honor of teaching him all things pop-culture.

“I have a lot of amazing older siblings. I want to be a good big sister.”

First things first, you give him one of your refurbished e-waste phones and take him to Target to pick out an OtterBox or a LifeProof case or something that’ll keep it safe in the pocket of a vigilante.

Vigilantes are always coming to you when their phone’s broken anyway; you’ve got a stack of spares you’ve repaired.

Then you help him set up a Spotify account (follow me at @remakethestars 😉) and try to help him find his rhythm.

Poor child’s never had Oreos before, so you drag a pack of Double Stuffs out of the cabinet and a glass of milk and show him the best milk-dunking method you know.

You think about handing him a cookie and telling him to waterboard it until the bubbles stop coming up, but cookie-dunking is something every kid does; it’s sacred, and you don’t want him to associate it with violence.

You show him how you and Alfred feed the bats in the batcave.

And you show him Vine compilations and your favorite shows and movies and as many classics as you can, and you put up with him pointing out the inaccuracies and calling them stupid.

Every time he doesn’t get a reference, you write it down so you know what to show him later.

If anything ever happens to you, Damian finds your list and makes it his personal mission to watch/read everything on it. It makes him feel close to you.

You build a relationship with him that’s similar to his and Dick’s, and he comes to you with things he might not be able to come to anyone else with.

Plus, since you live in the manor still and he doesn’t want Bruce to think less of him, it’s you he comes to after a nightmare.

If you know Alfred has pictures of him curled up in your side, you ask him to send them to you. Not for blackmail purposes; just to have.

You’d never use the need of comfort or the sharing of emotions against him because (A) it’s perpetuating toxic masculinity and (B) you don’t want him to think it’s wrong or confirm any of the stupid “strength” things the League of Shadows taught him.

You gave him a stuffed cat that looks like Alfred (the cat, not the butler) with some of your perfume spritzed on it. He verbalized his revulsion when you gave it to him, but on nights he has a bad dream and you’re not home, it brings him comfort.

Titus comes to get you when Damian’s upset. 

Even when he’s not with Damian, he seems to know. Pets are like that.

You’ve learned to trust Titus’s instincts. Damian thinks it’s suspicious when he’s feeling down and you just happen to call.

You never realized it until a long time later, but Ace was acting weird the day Jason came back from the dead.

And he was acting weird the day Jason came back to Gotham too. He ran to the door and began barking. Alfred swept security, but nothing seemed to be off. The whole family was on edge that day.

You were the reason Jason knew he wasn’t completely forgotten; he spotted you through a café window, and you were wearing his jacket.

Visit my headcanon masterlist.

[skzfelixity]

Jealous Much? | So Mun [The Uncanny Counter]

So Mun x Counter!Reader

Summary: A customer flirts with you and So Mun doesn’t take it well.

Warnings: none

“So Mun, table 5!” Ms Chu called out the young boy, whose gaze was fixed on you and a random dude. Hana chuckled at his behaviour, she had to hear about his undying love for you almost every time they trained together. It annoyed her. She’ll have to confess for the both of you if no one doesn’t want to make the first move.

Mun was very shy when it came to love and everyone seemed to know. You were his first crush so he was going through emotions that hehad never experienced. For example, the butterflies in his stomach. He would get them just by looking at you, his stomach doing flips every time you smiled at him and hugged him.

So Mun’s eyes never left your figure as your conversation with that guy went on, his smirk pissing him off. Only if he had enough courage to storm there and drag you away. He sighed out loud, why was liking someone so hard? Although he couldn’t see your expressions as he was facing your back, he was still able to hear your soft giggles. Were you uncomfortable or enjoying whatever he was saying to you? Honestly he didn’t know but he secretly wished it was the first one.

“Jealous much?” Motak smiled teasingly at the boy, whose attention was now on the bowls in Motak’s hands, which he was supposed to deliver a while ago. Completely ignoring the question, he proceeded to grab the bowls but Motak pulled them farther away from him, “Go confess kiddo, serving can wait.”

His ears turned bright red, he wanted to disappear. Hana laughed along with Motak, both enjoyed teasing him about you. “Stop it!” he grabbed the bowls and left in embarrassment. It was not like he thought they would tell you about his feelings, he trusted them, but it was beyond embarrassing.

“We have to get them together,” Motak whispered, his eyes following Mun’s walk of shame. “Absolutely,” Hana nodded, determinded to make you two official by the end of the day.

You joined Hana and Motak shortly after, a sigh of relief coming out of your mouth. The conversation with the boy, whose name you didn’t remember, was exhausting. “What are you sighing for?” Ms Chu popped out of nowhere, a hint of concern in her voice.

“This guy’s pick up lines were awful. Like if you can’t flirt, don’t do it!” you said very much annoyed. If you wanted to hear pick up lines from the internet, you would search for them yourself. Ms Chu shook her head at how youngsters flirt these days and went back to the kitchen. Motak wheezed at what you said, getting weird looks from some customers.

Hana took the chance to sweep you away, bringing you out of the restaurant, “Whatever Motak and I tell you, you need to give a positive reaction or answer! Okay?” These two were always up to something so you were used to them acting this way, nonetheless you couldn’t help but be confused.

“Okay?” Hana shook your shoulders, she wasn’t playing here. “Yes ma’am!” you decided to trust them with whatever they were planning. You got a wave from from that guy while entering the restaurant, giving him an awkward one in return.

Mun was standing with Motak near the TV, both noticing your actions. Motak knew you didn’t like that guy from what you said earlier and how awkward you were now. However, So Mun didn’t have a clue and Motak was aware of that.

“Seems like this boy has stolen her heart!” Motak placed a hand on his heart, waiting for a reaction. “You think so too?” he narrowed his eyes, watching the boy observing you. He was acting like a creep, his eyes following your every movement. Well he did that too but he had no bad intentions.

Motak pulled him away by the hood and dragged him to where Hana and you were. At the sight of them approaching, Hana nodded at you. You weren’t sure what was that about so you just assumed you would have to do what she told you earlier. As they reached you, the plan got activated.

“Isn’t that guy cute?” Hana asked you referring to the certain customer. You didn’t want to agree but you knew she would smack you if you didn’t, “I think he is.” The uncertainty in your voice made her glare at you. Motak was trying not to laugh, patting So Mun’s shoulder.

So Mun’s heart started beating faster, so you found him cute. Wasn’t he cute too? For the first time in his life he wanted to be called cute too.

“I think you would make a great pair.” Hana told you and you tried not to cringe. You slowly nodded and Mun widened his eyes. If you thought you would be a good pair that meant you wanted to date him. Oh how much he wanted to punch that guy.

He stormed off to the training room, bumping into Ms Chu on his way there. She looked at Mun’s back, he usually apologises so she figured out there was something wrong with him. “What did you do to So Mun?” She pinched Motak’s ear, waiting for an explanation.

“I’m going to see what’s wrong with him, cover for me!” You stood up and left. Motak managed to escape Ms Chu’s grip, rubbing his ear. Hana smirked as she watched you leave, “We did it!”

Motak and Hana fist bumped each other, satisfied by their successful plan. “I’m asking you again, what did you do to our baby?” Ms Chu crossed her arms, tapping her right foot on the floor.

“We had a plan to make him confess and it worked!” Motak smiled proudly and Hana nodded. “Why won’t you leave the kids alone? They will admit their feelings when the right time comes.”

“They were taking forever and we decided to give them a little push.” Hana defended their plan, she wasn’t wrong and Ms Chu knew it too.

“Your plan hasn’t worked until they walk out that room hand in hand,” she pointed out. Well she wasn’t wrong either. All they had to do was wait for you two to come out and celebrate your 1st day as a couple. “Do you think So Mun will chicken out?”

“Probably,” Motak shrugged, “But he seemed mad so I don’t know.”

You entered the training room, finding So Mun giving multiple punches with bare hands to the punching bag. You immediately ran to him, holding his hands in your own, “You will get hurt if you keep this up.”

He looked away from you and snatched his hands away, “Don’t you have a boyfriend to care for?”

You didn’t instantly get what he meant but it hit you. He was referring to the guy that was flirting with you. In addition to that, you realised that Hana tried to make So Mun jealous but why? “I don’t like that guy.”

His head snapped to your direction, thinking he didn’t hear you right. “B-but noona said-”

You chuckled, cutting him off. You were quick to talk again because considering So Mun’s personality, he would assume that chuckle was basically to make fun of him. “She did it to make you jealous I guess,” you shrugged, “But I don’t know why.”

So Mun gulped at your assumption, ears getting red. So Hana and Motak tried to make him confess? Those sneaky-

“Do you perhaps...” you hesitated to ask, you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable but you wanted to know. Why would they try to make him jealous if he didn’t like you?

“Like me?”

He looked at his feet, unsure of how to respond. He didn’t know if you felt the same but he didn’t want to lie to you, he still had a chance after all. He nodded while still looking down. He could feel his cheeks heating up as you didn’t say anything, too afraid to face rejection.

It was far from rejection actually, your crush liking you back felt like a dream. You hugged him with a big smile on your face, “I’m glad we both feel the same!”

His eyes widened, you felt the same? Poor boy thought he didn’t hear right again. He couldn’t believe that you liked him back either, he was stressing too much over it to be real. “That means we can date?”

You nodded as you pulled away from the hug, your arms still around him. He smiled so brightly, anyone would go blind. “It took us some time, huh?” You asked, remembering all the times the others told you to confess to him. “That’s right!”

You exited the training room, holding hands. “OH WHAT ARE MY EYES SEEING?” Motak literally jumped at the sight of your intertwined hands. “We did it!” Hana smiled proudly, throwing a wink at you both.

“That plan was really something else,” you shook your head and So Mun giggled. “I guess we owe them for getting us together.”

“Damn right you do, I want ice cream!” Hana exclaimed.

“Let’s go get ice cream then!” Motak ran to the door, being stopped by Ms Chu holding a spatula. “Where do you think you’re going? Our shift isn’t done!”

Well you would definitely get robbed without her, just saying. “Oh right...” Motak sulked and Hana patted his back, “We will get it later.”

“Ms Chu, why are you holding a spatula? We make noodles.” You pointed out, making curious the others as well.

“In case I needed to smack Motak,” she held the spatula in a threatening way, making Motak hide behind Hana. You three laughed, finding the relationship between Ms Chu and Motak adorable, sibling energy.

“Congratulations on your wedding- I mean dating!” Ms Chu turned her gaze at you two, “Now back to work!”

You laughed at her mistake, Motak adding a loud soon and running off to not get hit.

You went to clean up the table of the guy who flirted with you, noticing his number written on a napkin. You picked it up to throw it away later but it got snatched by So Mun. “You don’t need that,” he teared it to pieces and dropped it on the floor.

“So Mun pick that up now!” Ms Chu yelled from the kitchen, how in the world did she notice that.

You helped Mun clean up, he did that because of you so you thought you should help. “Next time I’ll punch anyone who flirts with you!”

“You’ll get a warning idiot!”

You definitely got ice cream later.

[struggling-with-time]

Mother’s aren’t always the best [Corpse x reader]

Paring: Corpse husband x female!reader (platonic)

Summary: You’re the youngest in the group and recently moved out. When your mother decides to pay you a visit while you’re streaming.

Warnings: Angst, fighting, yelling. Big bro Corpse, kinda abusive mom

Words: 1.5k

A/N: My job just cut my hours in half, so yay. If anyone want to, I have a Ko-fi in my bio, if you buy a fic through there you get to skip the queue. I know it’s not a lot, but it’s only if you want to of course! <3 Also I’ve wanted to write this for quite a bit

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

You have recently finally moved out from your home and is now able to stream on a schedule and far more often. While living at home your mother had been very against the mere thought of her daughter putting herself out there on the internet. Which meant you have had to tiptoe around when you wanted to stream. Only being able to do so when she left you home alone. The only good thing about having a single mom, was that she worked a lot. So that meant a lot of alone time.

You’ve never really gotten along with her. The two of you having very different views on life, she wanted you to grow up and be a pretty girl, you were supposed to study social science, and get a project of your own, and while doing so you were supposed to meet the guy you would eventually marry, and give her grandkids with.

However, that’s not really what you want to do with your life. Despite only being able to stream when you’re all alone and having to chuck your entire set up into the shirt drawer, knowing your mother wouldn’t go through your drawer as one of the only things. You had managed to build up a small following.

“Hey guys! Sorry for the delay, I wasn’t able to find my microphone.” You tell on stream, and to the group in the discord call.

“Are you settling in nicely Y/N?” Corpse asks, the two of you have been talking behind your mothers back for quite a while, he has become like the big brother you’ve never had.

“Yeah, I still have couple of boxes lying around…” You look around your small one-bedroom apartment. You only have your dining table, two chairs, and your bed set up. And your dining table have been converted into a streaming set up. So, there’s that too. You are lucky enough to have a small hallway, that leads to a bathroom at the end, and the kitchen on your right, and the bedroom/living room on the left.

“I take that you haven’t done any packing out yet.” Corpse chuckles.

“Hehe… Yeah… I haven’t gotten everything out, so I have ordered some takeout, that will sadly arrive here during steam, in about…” You look at the clock, “in about half an hour.”

“Then let’s get started!” Rae says, as the countdown starts.

You get through the first round of among us alive, and wining as crewmates, you’re about halfway through the second game of the day when your doorbells goes off in the middle of discussing.

“Sorry guys, I’ll just go grab my food.” You apologise, and gets up from your chair, leaving your microphone behind, thinking it’s muted.

You open your door, with your wallet in hand, and takes a step back when you realise who’s on the other side. It’s your mom. The one who you moved halfway across the country to get away from. The one who you didn’t give your address to.

She looks angry, and more than pissed off. You know she is going to start a screaming match right here. In the hallway of your new apartment complex, only 4 days into your lease.

“WHAT THE #@!$ IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” She starts off, a normal way to greet your daughter of course. “I GIVE YOU SHELTER AND FOOD ON THE TABLE FOR 18 YEARS AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME?!”

You take another step into your apartment, knowing if it comes to it that you must push the door in her face. She will win that fight.

“HAVEN’T I BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH?! YOU UP AND LEAVE ME, ALL ALONE! YOU DON’T GO TO THE COLLEGE I CHOSE FOR YOU! YOU GO AGAINST ALL MY RULES!”  She’s screaming right at you, you can feel yourself starting to shake. “And I know your little secret, you think you could keep it from me, huh? You think I am stupid don’t you. I know you’ve been selling your self on the internet for money.” You can feel tears are starting to come, this is what she thought you were doing.

She throws down a binder of some sorts on the ground, making you jump a little. “You’re not my daughter anymore. I refuse to have someone as disgusting as you even share my last name. Here’s everything you need from me to change it.”  

You watch as she passes your delivery guy, who looks at you awkwardly with tears streaming down your cheeks and a shocked look on your face. He puts down your order, and slowly walks away again.

You get yourself together after a few minutes, enough to close the door, and pick up the binder and food. You dump the food on your table, along with the binder. You run your hands over your face, before you pick up your headset, and try to act as chipper as ever, not having noticed you never muted your mic.

“Sorry for the long break, had to fix a smaller cable issue, but I’m all good now!” You don’t look at chat, instead you focus everything you can on keeping your energy up, and not for anyone to notice you’re not doing the best.

“Y/N are you alright?” Corpse asks, extremely worried over the fact that he just heard you get disowned by your own mother.

“Yes, of course, I’m always doing good!” Your voice shoving no hints to what everyone and their own mothers head. You watch as your phone gets a call from Corpse. “I think the next game have to wait a bit longer if everyone is cool with that?”

Everyone agrees they’re cool, nobody knows what to say after hearing what just happened. You mute your microphone properly this time. Before picking up your phone.

“Hey there.”

“We just talked Corpse, get to the point, we shouldn’t let the others wait for us for too long.” You tease him.

“We all heard?”

“Heard what?”

“Y/N I’m so sorry.” You can hear his voice crack a bit, and you can feel yourself edging a breakdown.

“It’s okay, we all knew it was coming at one point or the other.” You dryly laugh, trying to get out of the topic.

“We both know she’ll be back by next week, it’s not safe there.” He worries, you can hear him already stressing at the thought.

“I can’t exactly move. I blew everything I had by getting this place.” Your voice is slowly starting to crack and you know if you keep talking. You won’t be able to get back on stream.

“Then stay at me, I have a cough. It’s not safe there. She only yelled this time. But who knows what else she might try to pull?” You listen to Corpse, and subconsciously wrap an arm around yourself, still able to feel the bruises from when she hit you, because she found a stack of cash you had been saving up for yourself to get out. You break down sobbing.

“Y/N are you still with me?”

“Y-yes.” Your voice reaches through the phones, nearly covered by sobs.

“Can you get up for me? I need you to turn off your stream, okay? You’re not going back on there for tonight.”

You shake as you push the right button abruptly stopping the stream and leaving the discord call.

“Good.” It comes from the phone. “Let’s get you to bed.” He talks you through the tasks you have to do. Helping to distract you from the bad thing. He stays on the phone worried for you all night, until you’ve tired yourself out enough to fall asleep on the call. He wishes he could help more as he hangs up the phone. Knowing he’s the last of your support system. As the call end, it leaves you alone in the world. Now mother and fatherless.

[fontegagrilledcheese]

Dumbasses in Quarantine

This is my Bog Exchange fic! I finally finished! This is for the lovely @herostag I hope they like it!

Special thanks to Dani and Doug for beating my grammar with a stick. Ily <3

This is 2.9K words of idiots being idiots during the plague. Just pure fluff, no CW here. Modern Au.

1. Geralt had finally had enough of Jaskier complaining about all the takeout they had been consuming since everything had gone on lockdown, so here he was, watching a pot of noodles cook while Jaskier was in the living room weeding his island in Animal Crossing for the third time that week. He stirs the spaghetti around before grabbing a second pot and the jar of pasta sauce that he had bought at some point in the last few years. Geralt pours the sauce into the pot, throws some Italian seasoning in and hmms at the consistency before ladling some pasta water into the sauce to thin it out slightly. “Dinner’s almost ready” Geralt softly calls to Jaskier before going back to his noodles, fishing one out to check the doneness. Geralt bites into it and makes a face at the sweetness as Jaskier walks into the kitchen.

 “Everything all right there?” Jaskier inquires, coming over to look into the pots on the stove. 

“Hmmm, I think so. Taste this?” Geralt fishes another noodle out to hand over to Jaskier, who eats it with a hum. 

“That doesn’t taste right,” Jaskier says thoughtfully. “But I don't know enough about cooking to dispute it.” 

Geralt hums again, “Think it will be fine?” 

Jaskier just shrugs and goes to set the table, leaving Geralt to finish putting the meal together. Geralt tilts his head at the pots on the stove before pulling out his phone to text  Eskel ‘is pasta supposed to be sweet when cooking?’

While waiting for a reply, Geralt drains the noodles and dumps them into the sauce to stir them in before his phone rings with a call from Eskel. 

“You tried a noodle and it tasted sweet?”

“Yeah, is it supposed to be like that?”

There is a moment of silence where Lambert can be heard laughing in the background before Eskel replies, “Are you sure you put salt in the water?”

“Yeah, poured a bunch of salt in there like you said to.”

Eskel hums, “Are you sure it wasn't sugar? Did you make sure to taste it first?”

The silence on Geralt's side is telling, and Lambert can be heard dying in the background. 

“Thanks Eskel,” Geralt says before hanging up and staring down at the pot of sugared spaghetti. 

“Hey Jask, how do you feel about getting takeout again?”

Jaskier sighs, “What happened?”

Geralt blushes “I… I may have put sugar in the water instead of salt…”

“Oh… but the sauce?” 

“I put some of the pasta water in the sauce to thin it.”

Jaskier starts giggling, “G-Geralt... noooo.”

Geralt sighs, wearily turning off the stove. “So takeout?” 

“Yeah, takeout is fine. Whatever you feel like.”

Geralt hums and pulls up the delivery app, “Sorry, Jask.”

Jaskier sidles up to him, giving him a half hug, “Thanks for trying.” He leans fully into him so he can see Geralt's phone as they order.

2. A while into quarantine, Jaskier decided he needed some greenery in his life, since he couldn’t leave the house. This led Jaskier to order himself a cute little cactus from a local nursery for the next time they order a grocery pick up. Talking Geralt into stopping by the shop on the way back from the store proved easier than Jaskier had anticipated. Geralt had begrudgingly agreed after hours of Jaskier’s pouting and puppy eyes wearing him down. 

Jaskier dances around the apartment with his new treasure before placing it on the sunny windowsill in their living room. Geralt rolls his eyes but smiles at his roommates' antics, “You do know how to take care of it don’t you?”

Jaksier pouts at him, “It’s a cactus, how hard can it be! I just water it every so often and bam, beautiful thriving mini Geralt!”

Geralt huffs at him, grabbing a controller for their gaming console, “You promised I could destroy you at Mortal Combat if we picked up the plant.”

“Yes, yes Geralt I’m coming, just let me water my precious child.”

Weeks later, Little Geralt starts looking a bit droopy, causing Jaskier to water him, but unfortunately Jaskier does not account for his ADHD and lack of calendar filling out, and proceeds to water the poor cactus every day for the next two weeks, water logging and eventually killing poor Little Geralt.

Once Jaskier realizes, he cries to Geralt only a little and has a funeral for the cactus as he throws it away, being the absolute most dramatic about it as possible. Geralt just rolls his eyes at the antics and adds a new plant to the order list to pick up the next time they have their outing to go get groceries.

Jaskier gives Geralt the biggest hug when he realises they’re heading to the plant store and talks excitedly about how determined he is to to not kill Little Geralt the Second; Geralt just rolls his eyes half heartedly but helps Jaskier set up a calendar to keep track of when he’s watered the cactus. This works for about a month before Jaskier gets busy and forgets about his little plant, frying on the windowsill, until Geralt notices about three months later.

“Hey Jask, your cactus is looking a bit… shriveled.”

Jaskier rushes into the living room “NO!” He yells as he slides to a stop on his knees before the  dried up little plant “Noooooooo, Little Geralt the Second, nooooo!” he shakes his fists at the ceiling.

Geralt pats his shoulder comfortingly, “At least it lived longer this time.”

Jaskier shakes his head with a sigh. “I’m a terrible plant parent.”

Geralt hmms consolingly, “We can get you another. I’ll try to help you keep better track of it this time.” 

Jaskier nods, “Thanks Geralt,” and picks up his dead plant to go throw it out. 

Geralt just hmms and pulls up the pick-up list on his phone to add a new little cactus.

Three months later, Little Geralt the Third is thriving in its place on the windowsill, happily soaking up the sun on a bright spring day as a breeze comes through the window. Jaskier dances around the living room, vacuuming and dusting as Geralt cleans the kitchen of the previous night’s actually decent attempt at cooking. Jaskier sings along to ABBA, twirling with his duster mic when disaster strikes poor Little Geralt the Third. Jaskier swirls too close to the window and pops his hip at just the wrong time and the plant wobbles before being pushed off the edge and falls three stories down to the concrete sidewalk down below. Jaskier freezes at the crashing sound and turns to look out the window, staring down at his poor, broken plant.

“Nooooooo, Geralt!” Jaskier yells, and Geralt comes running in from the kitchen, startled by Jaskier’s cry. 

“Jask?!” 

Jaskier just points down at the sidewalk, falling to his knees “Geralt, I killed him! I killed our son! To ABBA!” 

Jaskier sprawls out on the floor dramatically, mourning the fate of poor Little Geralt the Third, who had been thriving wonderfully before going splat on the pavement. 

Geralt sits down next to his dramatic roommate and pats his leg, “That one was actually doing pretty well. Maybe we could get another and just find a better place for it to sit?”

Jaskier sniffles and looks through his lashes at Geralt, “Really?” 

Geralt nods before being tackled to the ground in a tight hug. 

“Thanks Geralt.” Jaskier whispers, nuzzling into his friend.

3. Geralt stood staring into the mirror at the red roots growing into his perfect silver platinum hair. He pouts at it, looking at his hair and then back down at his phone at the pictures of his past beautiful silver hair. 

“I can do it, how hard can it be?” he grumbles, glaring back at his roots. He nods to himself before searching different bleaches, toners, and silver dyes that are available at their local beauty shop.

A week and two trips to the store later, Geralt is once again standing in the bathroom and glaring at his roots in the mirror. “How hard can it be...”

Five hours later, Jaskier comes home from the park to Geralt sitting on the couch in a hoodie with the hood on and scrunched up around his face, pouting.

“So how did it go?” he asks.

Geralt grunts in response.

“Oh it can’t be that bad,” comes Jaskier’s exasperated reply, reaching for the hood over the back of the couch.

Geralt growls and catches his hand, yanking and pulling Jaskier over the couch and partially into his lap.

Jaskier laughs and reaches up again with both hands, trying to use one as a distraction. Geralt growls again and tackles him to the floor to pin him, where they tussle around before Jaskier gets an upper hand and pulls the hood off. Geralt freezes as Jaskier stares at him with wide eyes and a growing smile.

 “Don’t,” he growls.

Jaskier’s grin turns into giggles, then into full on laughter. “Geralt! Your hair!” 

Geralt sits back with a pout, still sitting on Jaskier. “I know, it's horrible.”

“It's bright purple! What did you do!?”

Geralt flushes, “I forgot to set a timer and left the toner in too long. It should wash out and wear off in a few weeks,” he grumbles.

Jaskier continues to giggle. “Well at least it's not permanent, and you bleached the roots pretty well.”

Geralt sighs and nods before laying down on Jaskier for a consolation cuddle. “Yeah, at least there's that.”

4. Geralt’s birthday was coming up and Jaskier was determined to celebrate it, even if they couldn’t go on their customary birthday bar crawl that they had gone on for both of their birthdays since they had been roommates in college. Jaskier wanted to go the extra mile for his bestest friend in the whole world and decided that he was going to make Geralt a homemade cake, icing drizzle and all. Jaskier had scoured the internet for weeks trying to find a cake he thought geralt would like and that he thought he could make with his limited baking abilities. He finally found the perfect recipe for a simple strawberry pound cake that he only had to buy a minimal amount of extra ingredients for. 

The day of Geralt's birthday, Jaskier sets up in the kitchen and banishes Geralt to the living room to play his new Witcher game while Jaskier makes the cake. 

He starts by setting out everything he needs and getting the beaters set up and his recipe out. He preheats the oven and then gets to work measuring everything out carefully, looking back at his recipe often, so often he doesn’t quite notice that he’s grabbed the salt container instead of the sugar and measures out the three cups the recipe calls for before adding it into the wet ingredients bowl to cream together as stated by the recipe. Jaskier goes about making his cake and mixing it up, carefully pouring it into the disposable cake tin they had bought specially for the event before putting it in the oven and carefully setting a timer on his phone.

He takes a break for a moment to make a cup of tea before cleaning up the mess from the cake and mixing up the simple drizzle icing for the cake.

The timer goes off and Jaskier pokes the cake with a toothpick as he has been directed, frowning at the lopsided cake. 

“Is that how it should look?” he mutters to himself, looking at the clean toothpick. “Guess it’s done.”

He pulls the cake out of the oven and  sets it on the rack to cool, poking little holes in it with the toothpick to help it cool and absorb some of the icing later.

After 30 minutes, he drizzles the icing over the cake, humming happily to himself. 

“Geralt, do you want to do cake now or later?” he calls into the living room. Geralt hmms and stands before replying, “Now.”

Jaskier grins and grabs them plates, forks, and a knife to cut the cake with.

Geralt stands beside him at the counter, smiling softly at the cake Jaskier has made him. 

“Thanks Jask,” he says softly. 

Jaskier grins fully at him. “Happy birthday, Geralt!”

They cut into the cake and serve themselves. Geralt happily eats his, reaching out to get seconds while Jaskier frowns at his slice. “Does this taste right to you?” he takes another bite while Geralt shrugs.

“Tastes fine to me,” he replies, happy to continue eating what his Jaskier has made him. 

Jaskier frowns more and looks at his recipe, “I dunno, doesn’t it taste salty?” 

Geralt hmms in thought before continuing to eat, “Suppose so, but it’s not too bad.”

Jaskier gasps. “Geralt! No Geralt, stop eating that! I must have mixed up the salt and sugar when I was measuring, oh! It's terrible, I’m so sorry, Geralt,” he whines, looking almost at the verge of tears. 

This causes Geralt to pause his gremlin-like cake eating, setting the plate down before pulling his best friend into a tight hug, resting his head against the others. “So maybe you had a booboo with it and it’s a little salty. You know I’m not picky, and it tastes fine and vaguely like strawberries. I’ll eat it anyway, Jask.” he grumbles out.

Jaskier sniffles. “But you deserve a good cake that’s made correctly.”

Geralt hums, “Maybe, but this is something you’ve made for me with all your heart, and I think it tastes alright, and I will keep eating it, because you made it for me and that makes it taste all the sweeter.”

Jaskier sniffles again, squeezing the man in his arms tightly “Oh, you big softy! You don’t have to eat it.” 

“But I want to.”

“Fine.” Jaskier sighs, nuzzling the broad chest he’s pressed against. “Love you”

Geralt smiles softly, pressing a kiss to Jaskiers temple. “Love you too, you disaster.” 

Jaskier gasps and smacks his chest “You!”

Geralt laughs and grabs his cake before dragging Jaskier to the couch. “Come on, I demand my birthday cuddles.”

Jaskier puffs his cheeks but settles against Geralt on the couch, holding the controller for him “If this is my penance.”

5. Usually Jaskier did the laundry while Geralt did dishes. This was because Jaskier had many a delicate piece in his wardrobe and he did not trust Geralt to treat his clothes the right way if he were to do the laundry. Geralt didn’t care much either way who did the dishes and who did the laundry, as long as the chores ended up done in the end. This was how their kitchen, laundry nook, and part of their living room ended up absolutely covered in bubbles.

They had decided to switch up the chore rotation for the week because the dishes weren’t too bad and Jaskier hadn’t worn any of his ‘delicate’ pieces in the past week and a half, meaning there was nothing of his Geralt could mess up. The switching of chores had unforeseen consequences however, in that neither remembers exactly how to do the new chore, as they hadn’t had to in at least a year. Rather than ask the other for help, both Jaskier and Geralt decided to wing it and try their best. 

Jaskier stares down at Geralt, slav squatting, staring at the bubbles that were slowly invading their apartment via the laundry and kitchen. 

“So, I couldn’t remember which dish liquid was the one for the dishwasher and put the red one in, which was apparently the wrong choice…… What did you do to create the bubbles in the washer?” 

Geralt grunts. “That was the dawn dish soap that we hand wash the alcohol glasses with,” he sighs. “I may have put a full cup of laundry detergent in the washing machine”

Jaskier gasps “A full- Geralt! The entire cup!? That’s at least double the amount you’re supposed to use!” 

Geralt pouts. “I couldn’t remember how much,” he grumbles

“You could have asked me!”

This earns Jaskier a raised eyebrow and the stink eye.

“Fair enough,” he giggles. “We should have asked each other when we were confused.”

Geralt nods before standing. “Well I guess we should turn the appliances off before the bubbles get worse… wish me luck”

Jaskier nods and jokingly salutes him. “I’ll remember you dearly.”

Geralt chuckles and shakes his head before wading into the bubbles to stop the dishwasher and washing machine cycles.

A minute later he reappears, covered in bubbles from head to toe, looking like some sort of grumpy snowman. Jaskier laughs at him before Geralt smirks and captures him in a bear hug, causing the man to shriek. “Nooo! Geralt my clothes! Ackkkk!”

Geralt swings him, picking him up slightly. “I think if we let the bubbles settle we can clean up in a little, but we should change first.”

Jaskier pouts “The point of you doing it was so only one of us had to change.”

Geralt gives him a toothy grin, carrying him towards their bedrooms to change. “But you laughed at me, that demands retribution.”

Jaskier just sticks his tongue out at him before being set down in front of his room. “Wanna play Smash while we wait?”

Geralt grins, “What, wanna get wrecked that badly?” he winks to Jaskiers affronted gasp before going in his room to change.

guess I’ll add my tag list huh

@geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @jaskiersvalley @jaskierswolf @dani-dandelino @wherethewordsare @softnerdypeter @thecomfortofoldstorries @dapandapod @lindianaj0nes @kuripon​ @elliestormfound @veritasrose

Hope y’all enjoyed it >///<

[sendyefrogs]

wish you cared

a/n: this was a rollercoaster to write, and through tears, all i say is, osamu big himbo :/  tw: swearing  word count: 3.9K (lot of word ;-;)  pairing: osamu x gn!reader  genre: angst (if it’s not very good, pls forgiveness, internet person)

The late nights with the light breathy words, whispered discussions, the iridescent illumination of the screen on you face, exchanging words that would have neither rhyme nor reason when the next day greeted you. But not a day went by that you didn’t giggle to yourself, alone in your room, as your eyes skimming over the words that Osamu’s fingers carelessly typed out. And you knew, before you realized, you knew in the deepest of hearts that you were gradually falling for the inane spiker, that this was your middle school infatuation. Little did you realize that this was not, in fact, an infatuation but rather something that would plague you for years, building up for years, overwhelming you, pouring out, resulting in meaningless words and broken hearts.

But for now, it was no different than normal, your heart skipping a beat as he replied to every message of yours, head whirling with possibilities of what he would say next, feeling slightly giddy if you were to describe the emotion you experienced.

The truth was that talking to Osamu Miya, it was like being intoxicated. Not that you truly knew what it meant to be in such a state, but this was what you imagined it to be like. Always waiting for more, desiring to keep going, for the night to just still right then so you may converse endlessly, not having to worry about your mundane duties as the moonlight that shone through your windows left you feeling light-headed and weightless.

But the moon always set to give way to a new day, where you could see him in real time, but none of it felt as ethereal as the late-night talks, as intimate as it was when it was just the two of you alone, as scandalous as it felt spending hours mindlessly revealing the tiniest details of yourself to him.

You’d hoped, of course, that things wouldn’t change when time came for high school; the time, most say, is when old relationships are forgotten, the path to the future is forged, a future you hoped still entailed the time you spent with the Miya twins and Suna. You weren’t ready to move on from Osamu yet, you’d never really gotten to know if he returned the emotions you experienced. And so, you ended up a freshman at Inarizaki High, manager for the volleyball team, an integral part of the group.

You were content. Or so you thought.

Y/n was not someone who forgot easily. This was a thought that occasionally graced the train of thought that ran across Osamu Miya’s mind. They hadn’t forgotten when he said he preferred citrus drinks over plain water, hadn’t forgotten the day he’d mentioned that onigiris were his favorite, or the time he’d wished someone would make him a playlist for when he cooked.

A thought that sprang to mind as he sipped on his lemon water every practice, you beside him, mocking Atsumu, or having sarcastically enthusiastic conversations with Sunarin, or tilting your head upwards to smile at him and telling him about your day while he chuckled lightly.

A thought that crossed his mind every time you cheerfully called out his name during lunch, plopping your pale blue lunchbox on the table, bringing out an onigiri for him every other day, leading to much whining by Atsumu, but he liked it; he was special to you, not his brother, not Sunarin, it was him.

A thought that occurred to him as he put on his headphones, clicking on the song queue you made for him, one that was admittedly perfect for his cooking, calming enough for him to know what he doing, yet passionate enough for him to feel inspired. He never told anyone, but each dish he procured after a day’s cooking, was modelled after a particular song you spent day picking out to put in his playlist; one that was just for him.

He liked being special in your eyes. It made him feel like he was at the top of the world. He noticed, even if you didn’t realize, he noticed everything you did for him. Your encouragement for him at volleyball matches slightly louder than for the rest, not enough for anyone to realize but enough for him to spike the ball down stronger as your voice drowned out the crowds’ cheers for him. The sound of happiness you made eating his food, always motivating him, telling him that he was the best chef you’d ever met. The subtle blush that spread across your face as he patted your head, ruffled your hair. How a simple smile from him could light up your face, no matter how bad you’d been feeling before that.

And how could he ever forget the conversations you had under the covers of darkness? The night only rejuvenated his hope that you were only his, your gentle words and stupid memes, the quiet chuckling under his blankets that made Atsumu throw a pillow at him, yelling at him to take his ‘lover boy’ talks elsewhere.

That was the part he disliked. He was fond of you, of everything you did for him, of how you made him feel like he could do anything when you smiled at him. But it wasn’t a crush. You were his friend. Not everything was about romance. Just because your face made every day, and night, of his better, it did not mean he had to be in love with you. You weren’t exceptionally attractive or anywhere close to the type he preferred, so why did people assume he was in love with you?

For some reason, however, he couldn’t utter those words to you. He knew, that you liked him, else why would you do so much for him? But he chose to ignore it, because if the truth came out and you decided to part ways with him seeing as nothing would ever come out of your efforts, he couldn’t bear it. He needed you. He wanted you.

But not in the way you wanted him. So, he kept you around, no matter how selfish that was.

“Good work, captain!” You smile at Kita-san, handing him a water bottle, quickly moving down the line. “Good work, dipshit.” You toss the bottle to Atsumu who stuck his tongue out at you. “Work, Suna,” you teased and received an eyeroll in response. Handing out all the bottle and murmuring ‘good work’, you finally moved to Osamu.

You loved the whole team and spending time with all of them was something that you adored, but you always saved the last bottle for Osamu. You were sure to keep it separate from the other ones, tucked in the pocket of the basket you carried so you didn’t mistake it for another bottle.

“Here ya go Osamu, good work today! You’re getting so much better.” You face away from him, towards the pair that were walking towards you now that they had a small break.

“Thanks y/n. So, did you decide who you would like as your partner for the English project the teacher assigned us? I mean Sunarin and Atsumu would be glad to have you as their partner too, seeing as you’re the genius among us.” He brought his face down closer, attempting a mocking tone, but it came out as a genuine whisper, directly sounding in your ear, that made a shiver run down your spine.

“W-well, I h-haven’t really decided yet, but I-I was thinking we could work together.” His proximity had flustered you. Your face tilted slightly upwards to him, and only then did you realize that god fucking dammit he’s too close, I can’t think like this. The thumping of your heart against your chest didn’t help either, or the fact that he, apparently, didn’t understand how much you affected him.

You collected yourself before you stuttered anymore. However, barely a word passed your lips that you were interrupted. “Ay lovebirds. This is still a public place. Yer too close to them, ‘Samu. Do you not see how red they’re turning?” You blink twice and throw a punch at the blond, missing completely in your embarrassed state, end up crossing your arms while the two laughed.

“Aw did I say something wrong though? Are you upset I exposed you to your knight in shining covers? Ya talk way too much with him at night. Do you even get any sleep?”

“Just shut up, ‘Tsumu.” Gathering up all the bottles, you walk away, too discomposed to face Osamu after what his twin said. It was probably already obvious to him, but you didn’t want to be humiliated like this in front of someone you held so dear. At the water cooler, you realize you’ve forgotten to bring Osamu’s bottle in your hurry to get as far away from him at that moment as possible. “Fuck.”

You turn back towards the gym.

The three boys watched y/n almost sprint away, laughing lightly. He can feel two sets of eyes on him, and the question echoes in his head. When are you confessing ‘Samu? He wasn’t. How could he when it would just be a lie? He didn’t want to be unfair with you, you deserved a shot at true love. But then again, he wasn’t exactly giving you a chance here was he? Keeping you bound to him, avoiding conversations about admitting romantic intentions, flustering you just for a reaction when he knows, he knows what he does to you.

“You should confess ‘Samu.” His brother’s voice sounded out, unusually soft and serious. Sunarin eyed him, seemingly thinking the same words, but not uttering them. This was the last straw. He had grown tired of people asking him about his affection for y/n, he didn’t realize how or when, but he had. He didn’t want to keep having to repeat the same tactics over and over, dodge and deflect. He was done talking about you in his free time, time he would much rather spend with you than about you, and people just didn’t seem to get it.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” The words came out as a snarl, his temper rising too high too fast. “I don’t fucking like y/n, they’re not my type. I just keep them around because I know they care.” He inhaled, avoiding all the staring eyes of his teammates. The words had come out unintentionally hostile, but he was glad he’d said them. “I mean, have you seen them? They’re not really attractive or interesting at all. It’s just because they make me feel special that they still hang around with us, that I let them hang with us.” His secret came spilling out and he didn’t regret it; he was glad to finally get it off his chest.

Atsumu and Suna, however, weren’t listening to him anymore. They were both staring past him, at the sight behind him, which Osamu whirled around to see. You were standing completely still, arms trembling at your sides, basket of bottles at your feet, eyes glassy.

The whole team followed you with their gaze as you quietly walk to the captain, bow without opening your eyes, murmur out an apology and exit the gymnasium as fast as you could. It was not a swift recognition of what had happened, but Osamu understood eventually that it was his words that had caused this. His brother and Suna merely stood there, shock evident in their eyes. “So, you were just taking advantage of them?” Osamu’s head whipped up at the soft voice of his captain. His words were calm but his expression was one of silent fury. “Do you truly realize how much you broke them with those few sentences? You may not have understood it but, we can all see it. They don’t just care for you, they love you. More than you’ve ever loved anything in your life.”

Osamu was overwhelmed, to say the least. He never intended to hurt you like that, but it had happened. Now, what of all those late-night talks and secret shared smiles? What of the playlists you made for him and the encouraging words you whispered to him before a game? What of his onigiri supply that you procured for him from your little blue lunchbox and the motivating comments you gave him on his cooking?

Before he could stop it, the stinging behind his eyes gave way to tears. Not because he loved you, he still didn’t harbor any romantic intentions towards you, he didn’t want to. But because his heart ached at the thought of being away from you, at the idea of losing you to another group of people, at the realization that you belonged with him.

Belonged with him, just as friends.

Your legs couldn’t carry you away fast enough. It was bad enough that you learnt that someone you’d been in love with for years now, had just been using you, but it was worse that he admitted clearly it in front of a group of people that you adored. The shattering of your heart as he spoke masked the quiet chatter of his teammates at the display. The humiliation seeped through you, the pitying glances of the team piercing you as Osamu’s words echoed in your ears - have you seen them … not my type … let them hang with us … keep them around … not attractive or interesting.

If that was what he really thought, then why did he let you make those advances? Why did he let you make a laughing stock out of yourself by doing so much for him? Why did he make you believe that he was equally interested, staying up late with you, returning the same energy you exuded?

You knew why now – he wanted to be special. He wanted to bask in the passion that you showed towards him without having to reciprocate any of the emotions. And you gave him that every day, didn’t you? Making him a separate water bottle, bringing him an onigiri, compiling playlists for him, asking him to work with you on the project even if it usually ends up with you doing all the work so you can keep up your grades?

Everything you did, you did for him. What hurt most was that he had been there for you too. He was, in all truth, your best friend. He knew every insecurity, every desire.

The time when your grades plummeted because you stayed up too late, he was there to comfort you, hold your hand and let you lean on his shoulder, cry in fear of what your parents would say, murmuring in low voices about things he did that day to distract you. The time you had refused to leave your room for days after watching that terribly sad anime, he was there to knock some sense into you, but he also laid gentle kisses on your forehead and let you explain ‘everything that was wrong with the world’. The time that he snuck into your bedroom at night just because you mentioned that you were bored and wanted to meet him; cuddling with him until he fell asleep, so you let him stay the night, waking up with his arm around your waist.

And yet, he had absolutely no hesitation in bad-mouthing you in front of everyone you were close with. Did none of that mean anything to him?

Even as the tears streamed down your face, the anger built up slowly, creeping out of you, staying with you long after your face was dry and eyes were left red. And that’s when you decided – Miya Osamu wasn’t special to you anymore. First things first, you had to sort out a few things; your life revolved around the gray-haired spiker. Well, no more.

Pulling out your phone, a text message is sent just a quickly as it is typed out.

y/n [13:25] hey tsumu, I need a partner for the English project. Do it with me or you suck. You were deflecting your emotions with humor, and yet if his face came to mind, you would breakdown right where you stood.

tsum-tsum [13:27] y/n! oh god, where are you????

y/n [13:30] um, home? Where else would I be?

tsum-tsum [13:31] are you okay? I think you should let ‘Samu explain himself. I’m sure he didn’t mean any of that. It was probably all just a lie, just so he didn’t have to answer us.

y/n [13:40] Atsumu I know yer his brother but you don’t have to cover for him like this. He said what he said. We all heard him loud and clear. It’s alright, each to their own ig.

tsum-tsum [13:42] y/n I know what he did is wrong but hes locked himself in his room and he needs to process his feelings. Yer the only one who can talk to him, so please please im begging, help him out.

y/n [13:50] I appreciate the offer but I will have to decline. It’s not often you find out yer being used by someone you love, and you rarely want to see their face after.

tsum-tsum [13:51] love? tsum-tsum [13:51] you actually love him?

y/n [13:52] ah fuck. don’t tell him I said that, I don’t want him to know this now, after he told us how he feels. y/n [13:53] Tsumu? Hello?? y/n [13:53] please don’t do it.

Osamu felt… empty. It was like he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t blink, couldn’t think. He was sat on his bed, staring at his phone. He tried to contact you, but none of his calls went through and his texts were undelivered. Was this how it was going to be? No more midnight conversations, no more spontaneous gifts, no more affection or encouragement? He had never implied that he wanted a relationship with you, then why were you so broken?

He never intended anything romantic… did he?

He was a fucking liar and he knew it. He knew what he was doing when he snuck into your room to spend the night with you. He knew what he does when he puts his arms around you and buries his face in the crook of your neck, seeking comfort. He knew how you felt every time he stood behind you, your breathing slightly faster, a faint blush running down your neck, struggling not to stutter over your words.

Osamu wanted to scream. Everything about you was adorable. When you weren’t with him, it ached. His arms itched to wrap themselves around you, forehead leaning against yours, your lips moving against his ears, telling him that it would be okay when the coach yelled at him; calming him down when Atsumu got on his nerves; making him smile when nothing went his way. You were there, since middle school, and he never got tired of being around you.

You were his as he was yours. And he…

He loved you.

The tears finally came. Messy and fast, moans escaping his lips through the suppressed sound of hiccups, tears welling up and spilling over no matter how hard he tired to wipe them away. The door slammed open and a furious Atsumu grabbed him by his collar. Osamu could barely fight back, much too devasted as the words he said in the gymnasium came echoing back to him. He loathed himself, for saying all that, even as he knew, you were the light in his life.

Atsumu was yelling at him but the words fazed past him. Out of the blue, his face stung, a slap landed squarely on his face. “Yer so stupid, ‘Samu. They loved you. They loved you and this is how you respond?” Only at Osamu’s sobbing calls for you did Atsumu realize that maybe, maybe his brother had finally understood his own emotions. “Are ya- are ya okay?” The blond wrapped an arm around his twin, pulling him in close while the latter wept, for minutes, hours. It was his own fault, for not seeing all the signs and now he had lost you forever. “It’s not forever ‘Samu. Not if you fix it right now. Do you really want to give them up?”

Cries slipped past Osamu’s lips. No, no he didn’t.

The fervent knocks on your door gave way to the shaking figure of Miya Osamu, his hands balled up in fists, head aimed downwards as quiet sobs escaped his mouth. “Y- y/n.” His arm wiped across his face, failing miserably to compose him. “Pl-please talk to me. I can’t stay away from you any longer.”

Merely the sight alone was almost enough for you to reach out to him; almost. “Go away Miya. I would like to retain my dignity, thank you very much.” You reached to swing the door shut, only to be blocked by a trembling arm. There were no words but you could see it in his eyes – something, something had changed. It was saddening, watching the strong, self-confident spiker fall to his knees at your bedroom door, no longer able to hold it open.

You’d tried all your life to pry open the door between the two of you, making every effort to keep you both close, getting along with his friends, cutting off ties with anyone he didn’t deem fit to interact with you. You did it for him – but you were tired; holding the door open this long, it hurt, a deep ache that pulled on your heart strings; binding you to him but at what cost?

“I wish-,” your voice came out quivering, your lips carefully trying to form words around the lump in your throat. Osamu glanced up, gazing at your through watery eyes, hopeful, longing. “I wish you would have told me, before I invested so much of myself. But then again, I should have realized, that when something seems too good to be true, Miya, it usually is.”

He gets up slowly and reaches to you, with shivering fingers, but you step back and his fingers clench into a loose fist, eyes showing emotions that have never graced his face before. Atsumu promised, it’s probably not too late yet. You can still convince them. But behind your stained face, was resignation. You were no longer his. He had lost you, the ground underneath him crumbling away, the thread that you had so carefully woven the only thing connecting the both of you.

A thread, that could not bear anymore weight. Before he could say anything to bring back what you had before, you spoke. “I’m sorry – I’m sorry I wasn’t everything you wanted. But I’m done. My heart is tired of being played with.” You glanced at him with determination clear in your eyes.

“N-no, no please y/n. Let me explain.”

“I think, I think this is goodbye Miya Osamu. I hope you find someone who made the moon seem as beautiful to you, as you did for me.” With that, you gave him a forlorn smile, shutting off the door that connected you to him, snapping any threads surrounding you. Not another word was exchanged ever.

And yet, at that moment, you were tied, sitting on either of your mahogany bedroom door, weeping for someone you would never have.

[blackradandmad]

why blippi is rotting yr children's brains

preface: i literally expect no one to read this. it is an essay length, strong opinion piece critiquing a niche youtube-based children's show that i don't expect most of y'all to even have knowledge of lol. but like, i promise that even if you know nothing about what i'm talking about, in my incredibly, super humble opinion, it's a good piece of writing and interesting nonetheless. anyway if you read this whole thing for some reason yr really hot and we should kiss.

i thoroughly vet everything my child watches before he watches it, episode by episode. and we rarely watch youtube for entertainment; we usually just look up educational videos when he has a question about something and wants more detail than i can provide him. and that's mainly because children's content on youtube is so fucking troubling and distressing. i don't judge parents who give their children a tablet at a restaurant at all bc i've been there and sometimes it's easier on everyone to just put on a video and avoid a giant scene, but i do judge parents who just leave their children alone with youtube kids on autoplay.

take stevin john, a literal millionaire who got famous from dressing up as a silly character called blippi and going on tours of places like aquariums, zoos, construction sites, etc and posting it on youtube. this has branched into a whole empire of blippi videos, hulu shows and specials, live shows and tours (that he outsources to another character actor), merchandise and so on. this 30-something year old man cites his main influence as being mr. rogers, but i question if he's ever even seen an episode of that program.

mr. rogers had no background in early childhood development or media production, but he revolutionized the world of children's media, because he respected his audience and didn't shy away from real world situations, all while creating a show with an enormous heart. mr. rogers begins his episodes by inviting the viewer in, literally changing his attire to be more comfortable, and talking about/doing things he genuinely cares about. whereas mr. rogers calmly and maturely addresses the viewer, blippi puts on a high pitched, contrived voice, interjecting every other sentence with a forced exclamation such as, "teehee! we're having so much fun!"

i don't find it a coincidence that john (blippi) is a veteran, either. his videos are completely devoid of the absurd, abstract, childlike thinking that makes children's media fun, creative, and entertaining. his thinking and process is methodical, devoid of emotion, and very superficial. this line of thinking clearly shows the kind of creative sterilization and emphasis on sameness and conformity instilled in the military. blippi simply observes things and interacts with them in a stale, matter-of-fact way. "this ball is purple! this ball is pink! anyway... what's over there? teehee! a car! vroom, vroom!" objects are colors, toy cars don't do anything but drive, curiosity is simply not encouraged.

he uses the "it's educational!" excuse to hide the fact that his show lacks everything that makes media a valuable resource for children to consume in the first place. further than identifying colors, numbers, and the occasional letter or shape, there is just this total lack of children's need for social and emotional development. when mr. rogers breaks the fourth wall to address the viewer and let them know they're special, it feels authentic and natural, because we've spent the last half hour building whole worlds with diverse characters and unique stories in a pretend neighborhood, learning about and enjoying different musical instruments, being exposed to and making friends with (even if parasocially, it is still a real bond to children when done properly) children who are similar to us in character regardless of physical or environmental differences, feeding the fish, making art together, and so on. when blippi tells the viewer, "you are very special, and i enjoy spending time with you!" it falls completely flat and feels unearned, because the last half hour was spent running around a soft play center pointing at bright, colorful objects, visiting interesting locations like farms or fruit production factories while failing to acknowledge the humanity of the humans actually working there (everything is machine or product focused; the human workers are simply an extension of the machine), learning "fun facts" about elephants that just list attributes of elephants, not taking the opportunity to inform the viewers of elephants' intelligence, or diet, or matriarchal society. it is a loud, sensory overwhelming display of a man so disconnected from the social and emotional needs and desires of children that he assumes they're stupid, easily entertained idiots who only need some silly dances and fast-moving cartoon graphics to give their attention (meaning time and desire to purchase products meaning $$$). john clearly views his audience as a means to gaming the algorithm and ultimately a paycheck by the hollow way he addresses them.

the show is so narcissistic, so focused on all the fun blippi is supposedly having, but he lacks any of the character traits that make individual children's show hosts memorable, so much so that he was able to have someone else who doesn't even vaguely resemble him dress as blippi and impersonate him and host the show or appear at live shows, and it went unnoticed by most of his toddler and child audience. the show is so formulaic and the character of blippi is so unmemorable that instead of taking the blue's clues route of developing a story of the host leaving for college and his brother now stepping in, or making some sort of believable excuse for the change in actors, they can simply swap him out with some random guy and not acknowledge it at all. although a comedy show for older children, the amanda show in no way could or would try to replicate the show with the same name but swapping out amanda bynes with a random teenage girl who is clearly not amanda bynes. it's weird and nonsensical and shows that his character is so much of a farce put on for a paycheck that not even his dedicated audience is affected or even cares when he is replaced by a random, unknown person.

this is completely garbage content made by an opportunist with no experience with children who saw his nephew watching children's youtube content, took it at complete surface level and still hasn't realized that while children's content only looks and feels so easy, entertaining, and enriching because it is so hard to do well. even with outsourcing his music, that aspect of the show still sucks. famous and successful children's musician, raffi, is known for his song describing the life of a little white whale, called "baby beluga." it opens with a calm strumming of his guitar, followed by the lyrics, "baby beluga in the deep blue sea/swim so wild and you swim so free/heaven above/sea below/and a little white whale on the go." is it silly and kind of pointless? yes, but the point is that he is captivating children and showing them the fun of listening to music, dancing, singing, and appreciating art. the "excavator song" featured in an episode of blippi about construction vehicles opens with what sounds like a default garageband loop and the flatly sung lyrics, "i'm an excavator/i'm an excavator/hey dirt, see you later/i'm an excavator." i don't feel i have to meticulously analyze the aforementioned lyrics; the stark contrast should speak for itself.

i have a million more criticisms about both blippi specifically and youtube children's content as a whole, but this is already so long and i doubt many people will get this far anyway. it's an issue i was completely apathetic towards until i had my own child and had to wean him off these kinds of junk food shows because i realized the fast-paced visuals and bright colors and repetitive songs/lyrics were putting him in this spaced-out, fugue state, and he thought he could demand this show or that show whenever he wanted. the moment he started regularly yelling things like, "watch! cars!" or "no! click it!" i knew i had to be a lot more invested in the things he watched even if just for entertainment or as a soothing message. i showed him an episode of mr. rogers yesterday and feared it would be too slow to hold his attention, but he was mesmerized, greeting and interacting with mr. rogers verbally, asking me, "what's that?" to different objects on the screen. since purging this low-brow children's entertainment, he has had a noticeable increase in attention span and concentration, can focus on a task for longer amounts of times, is more likely to "read"/look through books without me initiating it, and doesn't throw a fit when the tv/my laptop is off.

i just know that for me, growing up with so much unsupervised internet access definitely led me to real-world pain and consequences, and it seems like now children are born with an iphone as an extension of their arm. if my child is going to be consuming videos, i'm definitely supervising every second and am going to be highly critical of the videos and the credentials (or lack thereof) of the creators and team behind it. but i also know, from pure observation admittedly, that parents letting youtube kids autoplay parent their children for hours at a time is not an uncommon occurrence. and it worries me that a generation of children are being raised on videos that rely on being as loud and bright and superficially enjoyable as possible. what's the use of a child knowing their colors and alphabet if they don't know how to treat people with kindness and empathy and respect? there is something wrong for a children's show host to plug the spelling of his name at the end of his videos ("well, that's the end of this video. but if you wanna watch more of my videos, just type in my name! can you spell my name with me? b-l-i-p-p-i!") after essentially rotting his audiences' brains for a half hour. there's something so insidious about the prioritization of naming different parts of construction vehicles over honest depictions of and conversations about dealing with feelings, or why someone with autism may act differently than you, or what to do when you feel lonely, or ways to make art and express yrself creatively. also, not to mention the blatant police propaganda and outright worship is seriously jarring; as a black mother to a visibly non-white child, i cannot sit there and watch blippi show kids how to be a bootlicker for the shittiest profession on earth, but that could be a whole essay in and of itself.

anyway, thanks for reading, if yr looking for quality children's content, i recommend, in no specific order: mr. rogers, sesame street, the electric company, molly of denali, daniel tiger, bluey!, blue's clues, the odd squad, word party, trash truck, puffin rock, uhh... that's definitely not an extensive list but that's just off the dome!!! ok bye y'all <333

[echoalyssa]

Hey, sorry to bother you but I was wondering if I could make a request for Jaden Hossler or Chase Hudson where he cheats on the reader cause he thinks him she is cheating on him when she's actually planning a surprise b-day party or something like that...

I’m SO sorry about the wait, though this was an amazing request and I had so much fun writing this, though it is a tad sad lol. I chose Chase solely because I kinda have a soft spot for him and love him just a tad more than Jaden. Though if you ever want to submit another one for Jaden or have me re-write this one but with Jaden or a slightly different plot PLEASE let me know.

There is language and some slightly explicit mentions so beware! Nothing graphic though.

Chase’s POV

She’d been gone a lot in the past week, giving him stupid excuses as to why she was. She’d stopped answering her phone and had started sending his calls to voicemail. It was like they weren’t even dating. She’d call him late at night, or during the strangest hours and he had no clue why. She had also turned off her location so he couldn’t see it and when he had asked her she claimed she hadn’t done anything, though he had checked with her best friend and found out that she could still see it.

Chase had tried bringing it up to his girlfriend, but she’d come up with excuses about why she couldn’t talk. She’d always have something else to do instead of hanging out with him. And she used to be at his house every single day.

He’d had hope that it was just a misunderstanding, at least until he saw the snapchat posted by her best male friend, the two of them together, her whispering in his ear. And that had sealed the deal for him. He just knew. She was cheating on him. It was the only reasonable explanation.

He thought he trusted her, at least before this. And now, he most definitely didn’t. She’d given him a reason not to... right?

Y/N’s POV

You’re knee deep in the planning for your boyfriends 19th birthday. Everything needed to be perfect. He’d given you so much, made you happy again, and had done everything to keep you happy. He gave you his all and you gave him everything that you could in return.

Besides just the regular planning, you wanted to get all of his far away friends and family to him. Which meant coordinating flights and accommodating times for people.

Then, you wanted to get him his dream snake. You’d found the perfect breeder. Reliable with a good reputation and animals that were kept in good conditions. The snake was beautiful, you’d hand picked the snake. Knowing exactly what color, size, and gender that Chase was hoping for.

He hadn’t gotten his hands on one because of just how expensive they were. Retailing for more than he could comfortable spend in one setting. Plus he hadn’t been able to find a breeder. You only had because of just how much research, time and effort you had put into this.

You’d had to withdraw from your boyfriend, for the mere fact that you were bad at keeping secrets and it wouldn’t be a surprise if he KNEW about it. You’d even turned your location off because if he checked, the secret would be blown. And of course you missed him terribly but you’d get to be back to spending every single day at his house as soon as you got this all figured out.

Every time you turned around, something would go wrong that you’d then have to fix.

The party was tomorrow, and you couldn’t wait to pick up your boyfriend and surprise him.

Chase’s POV

He knew exactly where to go. The girl that had always given him too much attention, the girl that he knows Y/N despised. He’d always blown her off, made it clear that he wasn’t available or interested but now, now he could go to her.

He strategically posts on his story about being at his favorite burger joint. And barely minutes later, her snap comes in. She asks if she can hang with him. Normally Chase would ignore the message and show Y/N so they could both roll their eyes together.

But this time.. he says yes and sends her the exact location.

And, she shows up. She’s in a top thats way too revealing, and she immediately clings to him, dragging her disgusting fingertips through her hair in a way that feels nothing like hers. He grimaces, but when she leans in to kiss him... he lets her. And of course she gets the entire thing on camera. He knows that it’ll be all over the internet ridiculously soon and that his girlfriend would see it soon. Which is exactly what he wanted. To throw her the way that she did him.

Y/N’s POV

It’s her best friend that brings it to her attention, a somber look on his face. He holds his phone out to her and she knows exactly what shes seeing but at the same time she doesn’t know. It’s her boyfriend... but its not her. He’s... not kissing her. It’s the girl that he’d always trashtalked and shut down. The one that he was always telling her not to worry about.

You hear the broken noise that leaves you, and then a feeling of anger washes over you. Here you are, putting your all into something for Chase and he dares disrespect you this way? All the years the two of you had together thrown away for... for what exactly? Her? The shallow girl who wanted fame and wanted to spread her legs for him. What did he even see in her?

In an instant you’ve reached over, grabbed your best friend and pulled him into you. Your lips touch his and you kiss him roughy, sliding your hand up his shirt. You need to exact revenge upon your boy- well, you suppose that after this he isn’t your boyfriend anymore. Your best friend is tense as your other hand reaches for his belt and you pull.

And then in an instant he’s yanking away from you, wiping furiously at his lips.

“Y/N, you’re hurting. I know you dont mean this.” And then he moves back next to you, wrapping his arms around you. You collapse into him sobbing.

“C-cancel all of-of it. It’s o-over.”

He nods and rubs your back sympathetically.

~~~

You’re standing at Chase’s door, trying to hold in the tears. You’ve bribed yourself by putting on makeup, as a way to keep you from losing it and beginning to ball in front of him. He needed to see you strong. Next to you are the trash bags full of the stuff that he had left at your house. As well as clothes that he’d given you and you had taken from him, and all the gifts from over the years.

You had planned to just leave it at his door and run, but some small part of you needed closure. You needed to know WHY. Why he would through years away for this random girl. And just how long had it been going on between the two of them?

With a shaky hand, you press the doorbell. It rings with a loud clang. Seconds later, the door opens revealing a very ragged looking Chase Hudson. His eyes go wide when he sees you and then they go cold.

“What the hell do you want?” He spits at you.

Immediately your voice rises in pitch. “Excuse you!? How DARE you talk to me that way after all that you’ve done.”

“Are you kidding me? What about what you’ve done?!”

“What have I done Chase? PLEASE tell me what I’ve done so badly to make you throw away our entire relationship!”

“You cheated on me!” He yells, at a volume that the entire neighborhood can probably hear.

“Only AFTER you cheated on me!” You scream back.

“Don’t play dumb with me Y/N, you know you did. That entire week, distant, you were acting suspicious because you were cheating on me!”

“I was planning a surprise birthday party asshole!”

“Y-you-“ he stutters.

“YES! Yes I was Chase. Setting up flights for your family, tracking down your snake, monitoring every detail, for you. And then YOU cheated on ME. I only kissed him after he showed me the picture.”

Chase stutters and you gesture at the bags on the ground.

“That’s your stuff. We’re over. Screw you Chase.” And you whip around, striding down the steps and holding your breath in an attempt to keep the tears at bay.

“Wait!” He calls, but youre at your car now and you dont want to have to listen to anything he has to say.

You fling your car door open, jumping inside and starting the engine. You release the parking brake and speed out of his driveway, in the process you hit one of his garbage cans and it goes flying but quite honestly you could care less.

You speed away from his house, away from the boy you loved. For what very well could be the last time.

[lastoneout]

I think that a lot of the takes I see claiming that Haida and the others were being "abusive" to Retsuko by forcing her to come out with them and talk about her feelings kinda come from the same anti-recovery mindset that is concerningly prevalent on this site.

Like the show could have done a better job of showing us how long it had been since Retsuko got attacked, but we can assume it had been a long time given that she was running out of leave and was at risk of losing her job.

So yeah immediately after she was attacked she deserves to hide and take time off and just be sad and scared and feel all of her emotions. But trust me as someone who has Been Traumatized, eventually you have to start taking steps towards healing and Retsuko wasn't doing that on her own. She was wallowing in her fear and refusing to take even the smallest step in her recovery. Her coping mechanism, like almost all coping mechanisms born out of severe trauma, was no longer helping and had become actively harmful to her life and relationships.

And I think this is where tumblr/the internet's flawed ideas about how friendships and trauma work come into play, because everyone seems to think that it would have been best was for her friends to just, I dunno hover around waiting for her to reach out? Not talk to her about what had happened? Let her shut them out until they never saw her again? Yeah that wouldn't be a good thing.

The idea of tough love gets misused a lot but the truth is you do eventually have to face your trauma head on, get your emotions about it out, and reach out to your friends so they can help you get better. Retsuko wasn't doing that. She also wasn't in a place where she felt she could freely express her emotions, as we've seen that she only seems comfortable doing that in the context of the karaoke bar, which her friends recognized. So they forced her to come with them to her safe space and would not back off until she started processing her trauma!

(And this actually is an interesting call back to her relationship with Tadano because when she was scared and stressed out from everything that happened in s2 and in a depressive episode and he just enabled her. It's a good thing she got out because that could have gone to a really fucking dark place. I've seen people who had mental issues who were enabled and a lot of them NEVER recovered fully.)

Sure it might seem like Haida was being mean, but I think that was kinda the point. Retsuko needed to get angry, so Haida pissed her off! She needed to know that her honest ugly emotions weren't going to scare her friends off, so he showed her his honest ugly emotions! She needed to know that she wasn't alone, so he told her that he would support her no matter what she decided she needed to do!

And also I doubt Haida actually expected Retsuko to return his feelings, it seemed more like he was being vulnerable to show her that she was allowed to be vulnerable too. He was using his confession as a catlyst because he knew it would make her angry enough to get her talking about the *real* problem. And at the end of her rant she wasn't even mad at him anymore, she was crying and yelling because she was getting down to the root of her trauma and letting it all out. And then, when she was in the throws of her deep, ugly feelings, when she was the most vulnerable she's probably ever been, Haida reached out and showed that he(and by extension her friends, since it was established that he was representing all of them) wouldn't leave her.

The healing process is ugly. It's not "uwu soft give them space and hugs and let them hide away taking self care days until they eventually feel better on their own". Trust me I've tried that shit it does not work. You gotta yank the bandaid off and face your emotions and deal with them before they ruin your fucking life. Retsuko's friends SAW that she was going down a path where she would end up hiding away in her mom's house for the rest of her life until she was broke and alone and stepped in so that didn't happen. Because honestly sometimes people do use their trauma as an excuse to never get better and that's not something you should enable! They were being good friends!!

Anyway yeah, the ending was good. It showed an honest, deep, uncomfortable reality of dealing with trauma. I def think there are places where they could have done better, I think they relied a little too much on comedy when they didn't need to, but honestly this is how healing works and I think a lot of people need to fucking get it in their heads already cuz if you honestly think that what Retsuko needed was to just be allowed to hide away in her mom's house until she lost her home and job and all her friends in the name of ~recovery~ than you really need to examine your unhealthy ideas about mental illnesses and trauma. Its hard, it's uncomfortable, and sometimes it requires the people you love to slap you upside the head and tell you to get your shit together. That's just how it works, and I'm glad Aggretsuko wasn't afraid to show us that.

[scintillasofbeomgyu]

➷ first snow | c.bg

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader (older)

genre/s: fluff, lil crack

word count: 2,5k

you and beomgyu have the biggest crushes on one another, yet are blissfuly oblivious until that mid-December evening.

an: This is my first piece; please be kind hehe. I’m aware it’s bad, but I hope to do better in the future! 

Beomgyu’s teeth clenched down on the chopsticks in his mouth with such force, it’s surprising that they didn’t shatter. The samgyeopsal restaurant was as vibrant as any other restaurant of it’s kind in Seoul – teeming with customers who, yelled their orders to the owner as they grabbed seats at the round metal tabletops and downed the soju in their shot-glasses as they roared with laughter amongst their friends. At the moment, there was even a company dinner taking place at two of the tables in the far corner, and a female customer crying with five empty beer bottles on her table close to the window.

The restaurant was as bustling as ever, so much so that you weren’t even able to hear yourself think; but Beomgyu could not tear his eyes away from the sight in front of him.

It was the first time in a while that you and the boys had been able to meet up. They had just had a comeback, weeks of promotion and even award ceremonies to attend; so you hadn’t even been texting much. It was safe to say, that the dinner that night was very much anticipated by all of you – especially Beomgyu, who had insisted on the get-together under the pretence of commemorating the younger members becoming adults.

The time apart had made him realize just how he felt about you. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly it was (heck, it could have been since the very beginning) that he fell for you, but what he was now certain of, is that whenever his heart raced upon your visits to their dorms or their performances, or simply just having you near –  it wasn’t from a chronic illness. Thank goodness.

But now he had to sit, watching you and Yeonjun talk to one another the entire night as if you were inseparable. It left a nasty after taste in his mouth, but each time either of you looked at him, he’d flash a smile and either nod, or mumble a ‘yes’ almost as if he were able to pay attention to any of the intricacies of what you were talking about. He was utterly jealous, but there was nothing he could do about it.

To make it worse, you looked absolutely stunning. He noticed everything – the new pastel pink blazer, which complimented your skin; the new elevated sneakers, which made him giggle, he knew how your tiny little self pouted whenever hanging out with them. You had gotten bangs, which he wasn’t a fan of – he saw less of your face now, and you even wore a new fragrance – he noticed everything. After all, he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off from you since you arrived at the restaurant.

But when he imagined that you had done all of those things for Yeonjun, it stung.

Taehyun seemed to notice, the dark brooding energy eminating from his hyung was very hard to miss, and a knowing smile stretched across his face. “Hyung, what’s up? You’ve barely eaten anything.”

It took Taehyun having to actually wave his hand infront of Beomgyu’s face before he actually even realized Taehyun said anything at all, turning to face him with a ‘hmm?’ and a distant smile. Taehyun sighed. “Why don’t you just speak to her?”

Huening, who had been deeply engaged in an eating battle with Soobin, seemed to overhear this discussion and snickered before calling Soobin to listen in as well. “Oh? Beomgyu hyung has a crush on (Y/n) noona?”

“Beomgyu? (Y/n) noona?” Soobin gasped, in genuine surprise. “Did I miss something?”

Beomgyu’s face heated up like Florida in summer. He had never been more grateful for his long, floppy brown locks than right in that second. “How can I speak to her? Yeonjun hyung has been hogging her attention span ever since we got here.” He sighed, crossing his arms and pouting a little when you laughed at something Yeonjun said.

“Hyung,” Taehyun sighed, pursing his lips together. “You’re just being jealous and dramatic right now. We’ve all spoken to Noona this evening, it’s only you who have been giving her the cold shoulder. And obviously Yeonjun hyung and Noona have more to talk about, they’re taking the same courses and have the same friend circle.”

“Yeah, hyung, they’ve always talked plenty. You haven’t noticed?”

Maybe they were right. Maybe he was just being silly. Maybe you had attempted to make conversation with him on more than one occasion and maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t been as nice about it as he had thought he was. The truth was he was, he was insecure. Albeit he was aware of the feelings he had toward you and wanted to run to you the minute he knew, he had no idea how you felt. So when witnessed how close you and Yeonjun were, it brought him back to reality.

It made him realize that just because he liked you, it didn’t mean you felt the same – and it scared him. He knew Yeonjun was a great guy, who would definitely treat you as you deserved; like a queen. So if it was that you liked Yeonjun the way he liked you, he had no confidence to tell you the truth.

Seeing your rosy cheeks push up as you laughed at something Yeonjun had said again, he lowered his gaze into his soju glass and swirled around the bit which remained. After contemplating for a moment, he downed the remnants and grabbed his jacket off the back of his seat as he pushed it back. There was no way he could convince himself to confess to you. So instead of hurting himself by sitting there, he’d leave, is what he thought.

Soobin, who had initially been as oblivious as you were to Beomgyu’s feelings, knew exactly the kind of distress he would be putting himself through (after Taehyun and Kai had brought him up to speed, of course). When he saw Beomgyu get up, he placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a warm smile; meant to persuade him to sit back down.

“I’m pretty sure you and I know that Yeonjun and (Y/n) noona are pretty great, and that if they did have to get together, they’d be a pretty sick couple too,” he said, pouring Beomgyu and himself another drink.

Beomgyu grimaced. “Wow, that makes me feel a lot better. Thanks, Hyung.”

“Ah, no,” Soobin laughed, taking a sip from his glass before placing his hand on Beomgyu’s shoulder again. “What I mean is, that’s exactly who you are, Beomgyu. You’re kind and selfess; always prioritising the feelings of others, even over your own. Yeah, you’re really playful and annoying sometimes, but that’s just how you show your affection. And I’m sure that if you just tried, you’d been surprised at the outcome. Don’t go assuming how people feel.”

Huening grabbed Beomgyu’s waist and gave his tummy a hearty rub. “You’re great enough as you are, Hyung!”

As if on cue, your drunken mumbling cut them off. They all laughed, finding you extremely adorable. Your head, which had been resting on your arm, swayed left to right for about two minutes before finally slipping and falling to the table. Both Yeonjun and Beomgyu stuck their hands out to catch you before that could happen though, Yeonjun looking at Beomgyu in confusion.

The rest all passed glances at one another. Taehyun slapped Soobin’s shoulder, and Soobin sighed reluctantly.

“Well, I think it’s about time we head home. Huening and Noona are out cold,” he laughed, before slapping money down on the table and throwing Huenings arm over his shoulder. Taehyun got up to get Kai’s other arm, and Soobin looked to the three of you again; none of which had moved a muscle since. “Ah, Beomgyu, why don’t you take Noona home tonight? Hyung should come with us since we need someone to get a cab and get into the dorms for us.”

“But why can’t Beomgyu -”

Before Yeonjun could say any more, Beomgyu had already made his way to your side of the table and had slung your coat and bag around his shoulder. He carefully moved you onto his back, making sure not to wake you. You weren’t asleep though.

“Yooou smelll liike......Beomgyuu!” you giggled in your drunken stupor, tightening your arms and nuzzling your head into his neck. The poor boy’s heart feeling as if it could leap out of his chest.  

The walk back to your apartment was silent, but not the awkward kind. It was almost mid-December; around the time that the first snow was expected to fall. People were either already home with their families, or making their way there, setting up Christmas decorations and planning the menu for their Christmas lunch. Beomgyu wasn’t able to go back to Daegu this year, but the comfort of the silence and your bodies pressed together – knowing that you were there with him, holding onto him tightly – it was enough for him.

The sound of you mumbling broke him from his trance, the sensation of your breath hitting his neck sending chills down his spine.

“Hmm? Are you sobered up a little now, Noona?”

Sucking in a sharp breath through your nose, you pushed yourself up and stuck your head over his shoulder. Realizing that it was in fact Beomgyu carrying you, you huffed, kicking your legs like a toddler so that he’d let you down. Thinking that was your answer to his question about your sobriety, he came to a stop and carefully set you down.

You shoved his back, stumbling a little. “I can get back home on my own.”

He had ignored you for the entire evening. Tonight was the first night you had been able to hang out together in months, but he didn’t even pay you any mind. You had been harboring this one-sided crush on him not long after you had first met one another. And it was driving you absolutely crazy.

For a night out drinking at a samgyeopsal restaurant, you had bought new clothes, made an appointment at the hair salon, carefully studied make-up tutorials on the internet and had spent the entire 2 days prior mulling over whether or not you should just tell him how you feel. It all seemed for naught, though, because the fool didn’t even look at you!

After shaking your head a bit to clear your field of vision, you pushed back the hair in your face and stuck out your arm in the direction of you apartment building in hopes that it’d keep you walking straight. You were good for about two or three steps, before the heel of your shoe got caught in the tar of the road and you slipped right into Beomgyu’s embrace.

“Noona, what are you doing. You’re still a little drunk, let me take you back.” He sighed, lifting your arm up over his shoulder. “Plus, do you have any idea how late it is? It wouldn’t be safe to let you go alone anyway.”

You scoffed, grabbing your arm back from his grasp. You turned to him and squinted, the same liquid blurring your vision giving you the courage to grab his face in your hands. Apparently alcohol wasn’t even enough to boost your confidence though, because after staring into his pretty brown eyes which seemed to sparkle even when laced with confusion and amusement, you sighed, throwing your hands down, before continuing to stumble up the street.

Damn boy is unrealistically gorgeous, and for what, you growled, mostly to yourself, but not entirely.

Beomgyu grabbed you arm and spun you around, with a big fat smirk plastered over his face. “You think I’m gorgeous?”

Your face quickly turned a deep shade of red, realizing he had heard you.

“What I’m saying, is that apparently what you have in looks you lack in brain cells.” you snapped, pulling your arms out of his grasp again. Only this time, he didn’t let you go so easily.

“You... think I’m gorgeous.” He smiled, laughing in such a way that you were almost certain it was he who was drunk.

“I just called you an idiot, and you’re focused on that?”

“You could call me Elena Gilbert and although I’d want to hit you in your throat, I’d still be completely in love with you.”

Oh, but how the tables had turned. You rested your arm against a car parked in the street, as a precautionary measure, in the case that you collapsed either from the alcohol or the disbelief. Beomgyu shoved his hands into his pockets and locked his eyes down onto the tar below his feet, lip between teeth and hating himself intensely. “What did you just say?” you asked, half giggling from the butterflies fluttering around in your stomach.

“I-I mean, I know you probably have a crush on Yeonjun hyung and all...” he said, voice breathy and unsteady as he pulled a hand from his pocket and placed it at the back of his neck. Your face fell and you felt almost completely sobered up now, standing a little straighter. “So it’s probably wrong of me to confess, b-but if I don’t do it now I might regret it, and Choi Soobin said something about me being a great guy – I mean I know, but -”

“So what I’m getting in between that attempt at self-praise, and the numerous attempts which are probably still pending, is that you think that I have feelings for Choi Yeonjun, right?”

“Well you spent all night talking to him, laughing at all those jokes that I could do better.”

Somewhere in between your back and forth banter about how Yeonjun was funny and how you didn’t have a crush on him, little flakes of snow had began their descent from the pitch black sky above. The two of you hadn’t noticed until the fall had become a bit heavier, some of them collecting in your hair. You both fell silent, and he joined you as you leaned up against the car.

Together, you watched the flakes make their journey down to the street, where they lumped up, covering the trees and rooftops in a white blanket. Others had now joined you in the streets, excitedly gasping and snapping photos with friends and family in the first snow of the year. The laughter of little kids could be heard too, running around with red noses as they flung one another with little clads of snow. It was magical and warm, and there was no one better you could imagine to have by your side.

You let out a sigh, your breath making a thick cloud float in the air. “I like you, a lot. I missed you so much during all these months apart, and right now, I feel like I’m the happiest person alive to know that you feel the same and that I get to be here with you.”

There was a silence again.

Beomgyu took your hand, slowly intertwining your fingers as he placed them into his coat pocket. As his thumb traced across yours, he whispered something which had your breath caught in you throat.

“There’s cheesecake in the dorm refrigerator, want to come?”

[burntmcnuggies]

HC: Hawks gets a pimple

Hawks x Reader

Warnings: fluff! Slight mention of suggestive sexual intercourse and cursing! But that’s it! Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.7K

Hawks was having a good morning so far. The sunlight peeked through the curtains of his spacious penthouse apartment, letting the orange glow illuminate the usually dark room. His avian like eyes peeked open, dark pupils shrinking at the sudden invasion of brightness. He rose a heavy hand up to block out the light, groaning in reluctance to rise from his comfy bed next to you. Both his eyes opened slowly, remembering that you’d spent the night with him. His golden hues focused in on your sleeping face beside him. He loved moments like these, waking up with you beside him —even though he had to leave you. It always made his heart swell with warmth.

Once he lazily picked himself out of bed, careful not to wake you, he sent a few sturdy feathers to collect the fallen ones he’d littered on the floor and to dispose of them. He gave you one last look with a satisfied huff and a genuinely loving smile. His light footsteps padded against the hardwood floors as he went to his closet and began to dress for the day, leaving his pants undone so he could take a leak before he left. He slipped into the bathroom and out of habit sparred a glance at himself in the mirror. His eyes shifted to the toilet until he froze. WAIT—

Hawks jerked back around to the mirror and rushed over to the reflective glass, eyes shrunken and horrified at the rather large white bump that protruded from his skin, an irritated flush of his skin surrounding the small pore. “No, no, no, no, no. Oh fuck, shit, what the hell is that?!” His bare hands rose to gently poke and run his finger along the pus filled pore. He winced at the touch and pain that swelled around his cheek. The dashingly handsome hero had no idea what was now stuck on his face, blemishing his sex appeal and pride.

In a fit of panic he flew to your side and shook you gently awake. “(Y/N). (Y/N) wake up! I need your help!” You stirred and groaned in exhaustion, cracking your eyes open to see your lover with a panicked expression. “Mmm... what’s wrong Keigo?” Your voice was groggy and tired, laced with drowsiness as your body threatened to lull you back to sleep. “There’s something on my face, I-I don’t know what it is. Can you help me cover it up?” Your brows knit together at the urgency in his voice. Why was he freaking out about some cut on his face? He got small scratches all the time. “Keigo it’s just a scratch. Just put a band-aid-“ “ITS WHITE. It’s not a scratch!”

Your eyes opened in confusion and the instant you saw his face your pupils narrowed in on the irritated red patch of skin that dawned his right cheek about an inch or two away from the corner of his lips. “Keigo that’s a pimple. It’s norma-“ “A PIMPLE?!?!” His loud shouting instantly woke you up, and your ears rung in slight irritation at the unexpected squawking. He was urgently pointing towards the small pus head, anxiously awaiting your assistance. “Don’t yell babe... it’s not that big of a deal, everyone gets them-“ “I’m the number two hero, I’m a model, I cannot have some... some white thing on my face!! What’re people gonna think? That I’m dirty? Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Never before have you seen Hawks so upset about something so small as a pimple. He did pride himself on his looks. He spent hours preening his feathers to have them look their best for the public to keep up his flashy reputation. He knows he looks good. Was this an insecurity seeping through?

“Should I pop it? Will that get rid of it?” He rose his hands up, ready to do the deed himself without hearing an answer. “No Keigo. That’s the worst thing to do. I know it’s tempting but you just need to clean your face and put some ointment on it.” “Can you buy it for me?” It was cute seeing Hawks so insecure about a pimple. Every gets them at least once in their life, it happens, but you’ve never seen someone freak out as much as Hawks over ONE pimple. “Sure babe, I’ll get you some. But you need to calm down, it’s not that bad-“ “I’m so ugly.” “...yes Hawks one pimple makes you the ugliest man in the world.” “...really...?” His wings dropped, looking at his reflection in horror and sadness. “Oh my god no. I was just kidding Keigo.”

“Don’t play with me like that. This is serious.” “And I’m serious when I tell you it’s gonna be okay and you need to calm down.” He still had a frantic look in his golden eyes once you told him to relax. He nodded and continued to eye the blemish in anger, hoping it would vanish if he glared at it enough. “Tell you what babe, let’s put a little bandaid over it with some Neosporin and you can just say got a little scratch from a fight with a villain. Sound good?” “You’re so smart, love bird. How did I get so damn lucky, or were you the lucky one? It’s always debatable huh?”

Once he was patched up and covered, he finished getting ready and kissed you goodbye, leaving through the balcony window. He ascended to the skies, wind bursting against his face and sweeping his hair back. His mind was still on the pimple that graced his handsome face. He brought his hand up and scratched his chin in thought. As soon as he got to his agency, he would look up all the fastest ways to get rid of a pimple.

“Hey love bird, did ya get the ointment?” “Yep, got it right in the cart.” Your eyes cast down to the ointment resting in the temporarily empty cart awaiting to be filled with groceries. “So I was thinking about what we should have for dinner tonight-“ “Can you pick up a few more things?” Your brows furrowed. “Like what?” “Face masks, face scrub, moisturizer, clay masks, oh! Get the charcoal ones too I heard those fuckin’ hurt but work good! Foam wash, some skin oil, sunscreen-“ “Keigo are you serious... baby that’s so much. It’s just one pim-“ “Sorry love bird, I gotta go, just use the black card okay? Love ya!” He hung up...

You did as he instructed and bought a lot of skin care products for him, along with some packs of chicken and some of his Georgia WAX coffee. Once you got home and put everything away, you started on dinner. It was rare if Hawks even got home on time, but you always made him some for him to heat up —if he didn’t get take out. To your surprise he came home quite earlier. “Hey love bird! Did ya get my stuff?” “Yeah, it’s all in the bathroom, babe.” “Hair clips?” “I already had some Bobby pins.” “You’re the best.”

When he emerged from the bathroom he had a charcoal face mask on, the messily long strands of blonde hair usually sticking up pinned down to his head and away from his face. You couldn’t help but laugh at the silly look on his face and the avoidance of his “manly” patch of scruff on his chin. “Were you worried it would take off your little beard?” “.....yes.” “I wish you’d shave, I hate it.” “Wh-What?! I thought you liked it!” “It looks like pubes on your face.” His face paled, well, as much as you could see. “Baby I’m kidding.” “Oh-“ he sighed in relief. “I was about to say there, you weren’t complainin’ when I ate you out last ni-“ “KEIGO!!!” He laughed at your embarrassment.

After dinner Hawks finally took his face mask off... or well he tried to. He was whining like a baby at how much it hurt. “Ow! Ow! Fuck! Why does it hurt so much?!” “You told me to buy it, you knew the charcoal one was gonna hurt you birdbrain!” “It said it would get rid of it fast!” “Who’s fault is that for telling me to buy it!” “It’s the internet’s fault for tellin’ me it worked fast!” Eventually you ripped the mask from his face and stared at all the tiny hairs and unnoticeable pores. “Hey look, it-“ you looked up at him and stopped once you saw his flushed red face. “Babe you okay?” “I can’t feel my face. Do I still have eyebrows?” You burst out laughing. “Yes Kei’.” “What about my scruff?” “Nope, gone.” “Liar.”

Afterwards you both put on some face masks and lathered each other up in some lotion in a very comforting way, not sexually, although he made some very sly comments that teetered on the edge. Against your wishes, you both ate some chips on the couch watching TV with Hawks shouting and throwing chips. “WHAT THE FUCK!!! THEY CANT KILL HIM OFF LIKE THAT!!!!” “BABE ITS A SHOW!” “ITS MY FAVORITE SHOW HE WAS MY FAVORITE CAUSE HE WAS HOT LIKE ME!!!” You rolled your eyes and sighed heavily at his cute childish antics. His eyes moved over to you, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“I love you, birdie.” Your cheeks flushed. “I love you too...” “Ah, after three years of dating, a year and a half of livin’ together, and you’re still embarrassed with me tellin’ you I love you? We’ve done worse ya know~” “Shut up. You’re... never around much anymore, and it always makes me happy when we spend time together, but... confessing your feelings... it’s a different kind of happiness all together. Words can’t explain how much your words mean to me.” His expression turned sullen. “(Y/N)...” “And I know it’s cheesy, it’s stupid, but... it’s how I feel... knowing you still love me even when we’ve been apart for so long... I love you, Keigo. Whether you have a pimple or not.” He frowned, eyes narrowing. “You ruined it.” “Really? Damn. Nothing gets past you does it?” You both shared in playful laughter until the masks were ready to come off.

The next day his skin was clear, surprisingly, perfect and smooth with the exception of his patch of scruff. He had taken a day off work, which was a bit odd but, heroes need a break too I guess? “Mmm... good mornin’ birdie~” His deep morning voice rumbled against your ear, shaking your core and making a small tingle twinge in the dark pits of your stomach. “M-Morning.” His lips littered the side of your jaw and down your shoulder. “Are you ready for our fun day off, love bird?” “Yeah, I’m uh... pretty excited.” “Oh yeah? Well...” His hand slowly slipped down your night gown, trailing his fingers sneakily to the hem while shifting his fingers up. He pressed into your skin to slip a hand into your panties, but you quickly stopped his hand. “Later.” “Whyyyy?” He whined. “Unlike you, I have work.” “Oh don’t worry! I already called ‘em and them ‘em you were spendin’ a day off with me for... personal reasons.” “........” “I-I love you...?”

Hawks still ended up being cock-blocked that morning, but he was awarded some juicy chicken with a side of pancakes. The morning was full of playful banter, loving gazes, and small kisses. “I booked us a massage today.” “Oh really? When’d you do that?” “Yesterday after I called your work.” “They let you have an appointment last notice?” He laughed. “I am the number two hero, and there are some benefits to being the most popular and handsome man in Japan.” “I think Best Jeanist tops you.” “Why must you always be so mean to me, Birdie.” “I’m mean cause I love you.” “That’s not how that works.” “...” “...” “Keigo.” “I know, I know, we won’t talk about it.” He’s playfully mean and teasing because he loves you too.

Later that afternoon you arrive at the spa and everyone is gawking at Hawks. Who wouldn’t? He is the most handsome man in Japan like he said. Oh, let’s not forget the glares some of his fangirls gave you, it never failed to make you a bit uncomfortable. “Hey there, we’ve got an appointment for two, a couples massage.” “Oh! Y-Yes Hawks everything is ready for you!” “Ah! Great! Thank you sweets~” He cooes out and sends the lady a friendly wink as she left. His slung his arm protectively around your waist and he kissed your cheek. You pouted. “It’s unbelievable what you can do with your charm.” “Tell me about it! I get a lotta free stuff; discounts, free reservations. All that stuff, comes with being so popular, ain’t that right?” “Fuck off.”

The massage was wonderful, absolutely amazing. It took a lot of the stress off your shoulders and gave you a bit of time to just relax and think about nothing. Your mind was blank, enjoying the silence and feel of someone else’s hands just rubbing the pain and stress away. There was also a very fashionable and professional facial. It was then you realized it. “Hawks, did you book these massages just to get the facial for your skin?” “Well yeah, how else am I gonna keep the pores away?” “You do realize I bought you like- tons of stuff for home right?” “Yeah! But this is more relaxing dont’cha think?” “Well... yeah but-“ “Just hush and enjoy the massage love bird.”

You were going to kill him. Bury him six feet under, you wouldn’t even attend his funeral. He wouldn’t even have a funeral you’d hide the body so well. The massage and the facial Hawks had booked cost way over $2K dollars. But with Hawks and his grade A flirting and charm, the price was knocking back to just $1.95K on the bright side... he saved you $500. Even though he paid. “Hawks why did you book such an expensive massage!” “Well, I really wanted the facial but I got more for the bundle, so I just went with that and decided to relax! You can’t tell me you didn’t like it, love bird.” “Of course I liked it, but just don’t spend SO MUCH money. All this over one pimple!” His face flushed. “Keep it down-“ you burst into fits of laughter at his embarrassment, you couldn’t help it.

He wore face masks everyday after the pimple incident and lathered up lotion before bed, making him all slick when he cuddled you. It was such a clear insecurity you never knew he would have, it was honestly very cute. At dinner when he finally returned home, he heaved a heavy sigh of exhaustion. “I’m home love bird.” He called out with a smile. You approached him immediately with his little face mask and gently pinned his bangs back, putting the cool moistened mask onto his smooth face. “Oh? What’s this? Givin’ me some special treatment tonight? What’d I do?”

“You’ve been freaking out the past couple days, so I figured I’d help you out just a bit.” A smile spread over your lips as you helped him out of his hero jacket, leading him down the hall to the bedroom. He laid his head against your lap, wings nudging your knees on either side of you while he laid on the bed calmly. “Thank you love bird...” “You don’t need to thank me, Keigo. And just so you know...” You leaned down and gently pecked his lips, giving him a sweet upside down kiss. “I love you cause you’re you, not because of your looks. It doesn’t matter if you’re covered in thousands of scars and pimples or whatever! As long as you’re my birdie...” His wings fluffed up, eyes going wide. “I’ll love you forever, my avian mate.” It was silent until he spoke up in a very flustered tone.

“...” “...” “Can we fuck?” “You ruined it, Keigo. You ruined it.”

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I Thought About “Separate Tides” from The Owl House

Salutations, random people on the internet who most likely won’t read this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

...>A-hem< F**KING CALLED IT!

I said that the earliest that The Owl House would return would be late June and early July. And some of YYYOOOUUU sons of witches doubted me by saying it would be fall or winter. Well, guess what! "Separate Tides'' has come and gone, the show is back and better than ever, and we are all happy about it! You see how it pays to be optimistic, you persistent PACK OF PESSIMISTS!

...Sorry. Got a little hot there. I'm just so happy it's BACK!

10 MONTHS! It's been nearly 10 months since this show began its hiatus, large in part because of the pandemic. It was painful. BOY, was it painful. But I can already tell that the new season is going to be well worth the wait just by this episode alone.

But beware you mangey sea dogs! Thar be spoilers ahead when discussing such a premier.

And I swear to you that it's only spoilers for "Separate Tides." I haven't seen "Escaping Expulsion" either, and I promise you will be safe from anybody ruining it for you. But maybe don't read any responses from this post. Thar may be d**ks in these waters. So let's review, shall we!

WHAT I LIKE

Mirroring Season One’s Opening Scene: First off, this is a neat callback to what is the perfect first impression of the series. That scene perfectly introduces us to the type of show The Owl House is, while this one acts as a reintroduction to the world we left for way too long.

Second, this is also a well-hidden character moment. Luz is finally living the life she dreamed of, but it isn't exactly all that she expected. It's a great showcase that despite literally running away to a fantasy world, Luz is still getting a regular dose of reality. And I still love the irony in all of that.

(Plus, King eating the bounty is just funny).

The Recap Recording: This is a smart way to recap events from the season finale. It might be weird that Luz says things that the audience already knows, but she's not talking to us. She's talking to her mom. So she's going to explain all that she can in a way for Camila to fully understand. Besides, not every fan had repeatedly watched The Owl House Season One over and over again like a bunch of frickin' lunatics...You know who you are.

Plus, as an upside, Luz gets to explain new events and concepts for how she and the rest of the Owl House are making a living. In no way does it feel like forced exposition because, again, she's trying to describe as much as she can to her mother. It's a reasonable and natural way to talk to the audience in order to catch them up while also showing what's been happening since we've last left this show.

Luz Can’t Send Texts to Her Mom: ...Well, Texts to Home, it was fun while it lasted, but the current canon has decided that you're done. I'll miss you and appreciate all that you've done for me, but, yeah, this is the end. Sorry.

Alright, now that I got my jokes out of the way, allow me to explain how this is really a heartbreaking moment. Because the fact that Luz is forever cut off from her mother, even through texts, is an idea that just twists the knife in your heart when you really sit down to think about it. Luz's little goodbye at the end of her video does nothing but makes it worse.

On the upside, we get some solid character development as Luz doesn't even hesitate to send the video to Camila, learning her lesson from "Enchanted Grom Fright" about being more honest. She finally faced her fear, even if it was a fruitless effort.

They’re Doing Odd Jobs Now: This is a smart workaround for how the Owl House residents are making money. Some fans guessed that maybe Eda had so much junk piled up that they wouldn’t worry, but this seems more of a logical direction. Even if Eda had enough garbage to sell, she’ll can and will eventually run out at some point, meaning that they will all have to take the odd jobs anyway. So I appreciate the writers used that plot point sooner rather than later, as a fun romp as bounty hunters is something you want to do early in the season instead of later on. Especially with how Dana Terrace confirmed that s**t’s gonna go down in the future.

Lilith: ...I'm still willing to hold off--What the f**k did I say his name was? *looks up past review* Frederick Ulis--Frederick Ulisinsburg!

I am willing to hold off Frederick Ulisinsburg, for now, because Lilith is...sort of on the right track. I mean, I don't like how quick she was to playfully mock Eda or rudely yell at Hooty. But I do think that there is potential for her character. She feels genuine guilt for what she's done, and there's a chance that the new season will explore that further if the writers are smart (which they are). On top of that, there's a possibility that every time Lilith tries to act cocky or full of herself, she will be treated as a proverbial punching bag because of it. Like how her poster got burned down after boasting how impressive she looks. Or how Golden Guard's poster magically sealed itself to her face when Lilith tried to throw it away. It's the latter that primarily got me cackling like a madman due to how deservingly hilarious it was.

And, well...she happily clapped like a schoolgirl! Which was adorable! I can't hate characters who have the potential to be adorable! It's not in my nature!

So, while I am a little hesitant in liking her, I think there's a chance for improvement in her character in the future that I look forward to. We just have to wait and see if the writers pull it off.

(By the way, to the person that came up with Lilith wearing a "battery low" shirt...you're a genius in visual gags/storytelling.)

Greg’s List: Have I ever mentioned that this show is funny?

Who's Greg? Why does he organize a list of perfect bounties?

I don't know, but the idea of some random person in the Boiling Isles is putting it on himself to set up a list to make bounties...I'm sorry, but that's funny to me. It's also probably for how Craig's List was made, but when you really think about it, Craig's List is a funny idea as well.

Eda Isn’t Feared Anymore: I sort of guessed that this would happen, but seeing it is a whole different level of sympathy to feel for the character. Eda's main schtick was being the most powerful witch on the Isles, and that's gone now. She's forced to adapt to this new normal, which she's quick to do, but still. Tt's got to be a rough kick to the ego now that no one even cares about who she is anymore.

It's a low moment for her character that hopefully sets up her own arc for the rest of the season.

Luz Feels Like She’s a Burden: I will demolish her with love and kindness if she even CONSIDERS talking so poorly about herself again! Because Luz is not a burden. She is a beam of light that literally brightens up the lives of nearly everyone she meets. Eda already explains how her life is better because of Luz (through a heart-tugging speech that almost got to me, by the way), but it's not just Eda.

King now has his first real friend who admires him and treats him like the king he wants to be.

Willow has become much more confident and cheerful because Luz was always in her corner.

Gus learns more about the humans he appreciates with his whole heart while also having a friend that treats him like an equal rather than a kid.

And do I even have to say ANYTHING about Amity?

The Boiling Isles wouldn't be better off without Luz. It's better because of her. And shame on this girl for thinking otherwise...even though I fully understand where she's coming from.

I'm about to get personal for a second, so strap in. Because I am a twenty-somthing-year-old who is currently living with his mom. It's as pathetic as it sounds. But it's because I'm still attending college, and she says school comes first and jobs and apartments come second. Despite that, I feel like trash for just...living here as she still takes care of me and pays for the food I can't afford. She says that I shouldn't worry about it, but I still wait for the day I can finally pay her back for everything. Not some things, but everything. And that's Luz's mentality in this episode. The overwhelming guilt she's feeling for thinking she's inconveniencing Eda's life is something that hits really hard for me. It doesn't matter if it's true, but that she believes it's true. It's a heartbreaking character arc she's forced into for this episode that also adds more to why she's one of the many characters I heavily relate to.

Lulu and Hootstipher: Whoever thought of this idea...I f**king love you.

This is similar to when Noah and Owen became friends in Total Drama World Tour. Seemingly one-sided at first, you see a cute friendship that you would have never expected, but it works! Hooty is this happy and naive character who hardly understands what's going on half the time, and Lilith is...Lilith. Their chemistry is instantly fun as their dynamic is quick to understand.

This also shines with potential for character growth, for it could give Lilith a chance to be more caring and Hooty a chance to be more than just the comic relief. If you were to tell me that this is what was going to happen when the season premiered, I would have thought you were crazy. But now, after seeing it in action, I'm genuinely excited to see where this cute friendship between these two goes.

(As long as it doesn't involve fans shipping them. Because Hooty can do better)

Luz Getting Better with Her Magic: Our little bisexual princess is growing up! And, man, is it awesome to see. Luz going from just barely knowing how to do magic to full-on using her spells like second nature just warms my heart with all the character growth it presents. Now, some people might want an explanation for how she's able to do said spells, to which I say: "Who the f**k cares?"

If you ask me, Luz's magic is one of those things that doesn't need a direct answer because it doesn't matter as much. But if you're going to be a baby about it, here's what I can offer: As far as I can tell, it's equal parts having the glyph and mentally picturing what the spell should do. It's much like how Willow draws a spell circle and can either make giant jungle vines or a patch of flowers to land on. Luz's glyphs are her own spell circles. As long as she concentrates hard enough, she can make the glyph do whatever she wants it to.

There. You have your explanation. Now let's just all appreciate the fact that Luz can now throw fireballs and make vine whips like the superpowered teenager she most likely fantasized of being. Ok? Ok.

A Pirate Losing His Head...Literally: ...And I'm gonna go ahead and add that to the list.

I mean, for f**k's sake, WE SEE BONE! He puts his head back on, but we still see the bone!

Eda in a Pirate Outfit: ...That is all.

The Golden Guard: This guy shows up for only a few minutes, and I'm already beginning to like him. He seems just as threatening as Belos while also coming across as a guy who loves his job and being a ton of fun to watch because of it. I adore villains that find that balance of being funny and terrifying. The result is a character who makes me laugh on top of making me scared of what they could do to our protagonists. So far, that's the Golden Guard in a nutshell, and I can't wait to see what the rest of the season has in store with him. Whether it involves seeing him play with food as he did with Eda and Luz in this episode or seeing him getting kicked in the crotch like a little punk like him deserves, I am all for it.

(Bonus points if it's Amity who does the crotch kicking if he ever makes an advancement on Luz)

Eda Wanting to Protect the Selkidomus: I love this. It plays into the idea that Eda cares about things being wild and free and despises how Emperor Belos would want to control everything, including the most insignificant of animals. It shows just how kind Eda really is rather than someone motivated by greed...even if she does end up filthy rich in the end.

Emperor Belos’ Brief Cameo: Yup, still terrifying!

And if it turns out that Belos can see the Scrying Potion that Lilith made...we're going to have some problems.

Much like the actual problems that I have with this episode!

(Like that transition?)

WHAT I DISLIKE

King Being Stupid: King has two different personalities in this series. Either he's a pathetic wannabe ruler who seems intelligent or an idiotic Disney comedic sidekick. That latter version of King is what we get in "Separate Tides," and I don't like it (obviously). I don't care how cute it is to see him cling onto Luz's leg and exclaim how he won't let her leave. The same character who helped Luz break into a prison to save Eda shouldn't be the same one who falls asleep when a sheet covers him like a dumbass parrot! King's at his best when he's as intelligent as the rest of the characters. And not as dumb as someone like Hooty.

Eda Being Too Nice Around Lilith: This one bothers me the most. After being cursed for thirty years and having her life ruined by the person she thought she could trust the most, Eda is still all smiley and jokey when talking to Lilith. Yeah, sorry, but I don't buy that. No one in their right mind would be that cool with a person who did all of what Lilith did. It's a major misstep that squanders what could have been a fantastic overarching story of Eda learning to forgive her sister and Lilith trying to earn it. We'll at least get Lilith's guilt, but as is, I feel Eda showing genuine anger towards her would elevate that story by a lot.

IN CONCLUSION

But that's about all the bad things I have to say about "Separate Tides." As is, it is a well-earned, solid A of a season premiere. It introduces new concepts and characters I can't wait to see more of, continues old storylines and character development instead of ignoring them, and still proves that The Owl House is as charming and funny as it always was. Maybe the rest of the season could continue to be great, or maybe things might get worse. Time can only tell. For now, all I can tell you is that "Separate Tides" is a great and fun episode that makes me excited as we set sail to this new season.

(And Scared. Mostly scared)