#this is from a while ago and i never uploaded it i guess

[rainissance]

beltboy if he was like a hedgehog or something idk

[zyafics]

PLAY FAKE | 02

MASTERLIST (Series)

Pairing — Rafe Cameron x Female Reader .ᐟ

Summary — When Rafe needs to secure a girlfriend for his father to see him as a viable candidate for Cameron Development, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.

Content — 18+, smut, angst, depictions of jealousy + aggression, emotional turmoil, mild descriptions of violence, and usage of drugs.

You didn't want to ask Rafe for help.

You never like doing it in general. The concept is foreign to you and it makes your skin crawl with a sense of dread, but you were desperate.

He hasn't come back to your bar in a while; probably off finding a new replacement for a fake girlfriend. Before, you hadn't given it much thought. You did decline. However, now, you wish he hadn't found one yet. Now, the offer sounds appetizing given the situation you're in.

You need to get in contact with him. You knew that showing up to the Tannyhill estate would raise questions but you didn't know where he would be. An idea suddenly popped up in your head and you decided to scroll through social media and find the nearest Kook party. You found one, just uploaded fifteen minutes ago, at Topper's house.

Parking in the street, you stare at the party in full swing. It has been a while since you've been to a party—too focused on working full-time at Sailor and taking care of your siblings—and the idea of going in unnerves you. You were still in uniform, well, it's something you try to wear everyday to get tips. A simple black crop top and a mini skirt. You find it ironic that you were at least dressed for the part.

Leveling some confidence, you push open the creaky door of your old car and head inside. It is absolutely crowded with people, with girls and guys drinking and dancing outside in the yard, near the pool, on the porch. Your eyes glaze over every single one of them, trying to find the one person you hope would be here.

You find Rafe near the back porch of the mansion. He's with a couple of his buddies, Topper being among them, and a girl on his arm as he holds a beer with the same hand. You weren't surprised in the slightest. This was his plan after all. You were just surprised by the feeling in your stomach.

The lick of jealousy you didn't understand where it came from.

You step up. His friends were the first to notice you, scanning over your body that you wish you had worn a jacket over yourself. When you are just in front of him, his gaze finally focuses and meets your gaze.

"Can we talk?" You ask, sparing no attention to the girl on him.

He scoffs, "fuck off."

Of course he's going to be an asshole. You didn't bother with entertaining his comment by grabbing his arm, pulling him up. You knew you didn't have the strength to take him completely so you were pleasantly surprised when he assisted and got up. He even pushed the girl to the side as you dragged him off to somewhere quiet.

Well, as quiet as the live party can be.

"What do you want?"

His words are sharp and harsh, but you expected nothing less. You figured something happened—that's why he entertains his vices, right?—and plus, you told him that you wanted nothing to do with him. If anything, he has a bit of justification to be pissed.

But that doesn't mean you would accept it.

"I was going to talk to you about your offer, but seeing as you're being too much of an ass, I guess I should come back another time," you snap, turning around to head out because fuck him. You weren't going to take it. You had other things to do. You would be forgiving, perhaps, if he actually talked to you about his problem but to be a dick off the bat? Not a chance in hell.

"Wait," he grabs your arm before you move far and this contrasts the strength you hold. One hand and a lazy attempt to hold you in place. "What do you want?"

He said that somewhat nicer.

You turn back with a glare, contemplating what to do, before remembering what's at stake. You're already here. Might as well get it over with.

"I'll do it." You say, your voice coming out smaller than you intended. It’s so embarrassing to ask for help. It feels even more so to backtrack into something you said you couldn't—wouldn't—do. "Be your fake girlfriend, I mean."

The corner of his lips quirks into an amused smile. Even in his drunk state, where his blond hair is darkened from the humidity of the space and his eyes glossed over, you can't help but admit how attractive he is. "Couldn't stay away, could you?"

"I'm not trying to be the next Mrs. Cameron," you snap, feeling the need to clarify. "But, I do need the payout."

His eyes narrow. "Thought you didn't want it?"

"I don't," you answer. "It's something else."

He tilts his head to the side, studying you. "What?"

Sighing, you wished you could talk somewhere more private. But, this truly is the best place you can get him. "When you get your father's company and start doing all the Kook bullshit of hosting charity events, galas, and dinners, I want you to use Sailor as your drink caterer."

It sounded like a good deal when you thought of it. You didn't want the money because you don't know how long this little facade is going to last. You needed something stable. You need something that would benefit you in the long-run. Since Sailor has been slipping off the profit margins and you've been dealing with some trouble regarding its ownership, you figured the business from all the catering would boost it up. It would give you status and credit. It would benefit you long after this engagement with Rafe ends.

His eyes look thoughtful of the idea. You wonder how he's calculating, how he's weighing the options about whether to accept your negotiation or to decline—telling you he already found a replacement. You hope it wasn't the latter. You needed this.

"No."

You clench your jaw. Of course. The one time you sought out help, instead of cleaning up the mess yourself, you got shut down. It's embarrassing.

"Fine." You say, ripping your arm out of his grasp and heading straight to the exit. You want to leave as soon as possible and use the time you should've spent going here to actually come up with a solution. It was a wasted effort on your end. You make a mental note of that.

Just a few steps short of the exit, some guy nearby grabs your arm and holds you in place. "Where you going, pretty?" He slurs his words, his eyes cascading down your body that you wished you pulled down the length of your skirt. "I didn't get the chance to talk to you."

You try to rip your arm off of his but his grip is firm. "Leave me alone."

"Come on, pretty," he gets closer, his intoxication reeking from his breath that you had to turn your head to avoid the smell. "I can make you feel real good."

Your hand clenched by your side while the other places a palm directly on his chest, trying to place some distance between you and the stranger before you commit to your next move. "If you don’t leave me alone—"

It happened in a flash. One minute he's holding you, the second he's getting knocked back with a punch delivered straight on the mouth.

You look up to see Rafe, his knuckles clenched and redden while the beer he was cradling had dropped on the ground into a million broken pieces. His breathing heavy while his eyes are a little distant, lagged out.

"Rafe," you call out, but before he gets the chance to face you, the drunk stranger comes staggering back with a punch in return. The crowd gasps and quickly moves out of the way as a circle forms, Rafe and the man trading swings.

No one is helping them. No one is attempting to. Rafe is significantly more drunk than the stranger, his footing is slightly off, and the drunkard is getting in more decks on Rafe's face.

When Rafe tries to duck from a delivery, the guy does directly to his stomach and it causes him to topple over with a grunt.

Having enough, you step forward and grab the stranger's shoulder. He turns around with a look of confusion—just in time for you to deck him as hard as your hand can swing, right in the face.

"Shit!" You swear under your breath, the blow rippling back and returning straight to your fist, aching.

The stranger staggers back, his back hitting the floor while you grab Rafe. You don't know where you're going, you don't know the layout of this house, but pushing through the crowd, you find an empty bedroom and slam the door close with a lock.

Thankfully, it had a bathroom attached to it. You set Rafe on the mattress as you flick the lights on and search for the cabinets for any aid. Rafe's bottom lip is busted, there's a cut on one of his brows, and bruising forming against his jawline. You don't even want to think about the mess on his knuckles.

Finding a first aid kit, you step back to see Rafe laid out against the mattress, his eyes closed. You rush to his side, afraid he has a concussion and he's falling asleep.

"Rafe!" You shout, hitting his cheeks with the back of your hand in light taps, causing his eyes to flutter open. "You can't do that."

Willing himself back to a sitting position with your assistance, you set the first aid kit to the side as you attempt to help him. Using your hands to cradle his face, you assess the damages.

"Where'd you learn to punch like that?" He asks, the heat of his gaze follows you as you remove your touch.

You shrug. "You need to learn two things growing up in The Cut," you hold up a finger, "how to deliver a good right hook,"

You pause for a moment.

Impatiently, he prompts. "And?"

You hold up his gold signet ring and his watch. "How to take advantage of a drunk."

He scoffs, snatching his things out of your grasp as you laugh, releasing some tension in your shoulders. "Pogue." He sneers.

"Kook." You retort, but there's a lightness in your tone.

Rafe says nothing as you return to your search through the aid kit. When you find what you were looking for, you start on his face, first cleaning the cut around his brow.

He hisses at the sting, but allows you to continue. It was an awkward position to be in, sitting beside him as you try to clean the damage, and he must've noticed how irritated you were getting with his constant shifts away from the pain. Without a word, he grabs your waist and pulls you into his lap with one swoop, both legs on either side of his waist as his hands settle on the small of your back.

"Better?" He questions, raising a brow.

You don't say anything, attempting to adjust your skirt rising up to your hips, before you nod.

Cleaning the wound, you tilt your head to examine what your next step should be. It's hard to figure out because the bruise is slowly forming and while the cut may be small right now, it's going to be nasty tomorrow.

To ease some tension of the silence, you prompt with a conversation. "You got into another fight with your dad?"

He stiffens under you, clenching his jaw. "What makes you say that?"

You feel his eyes trained on your face, but you refuse to acknowledge it. "Because you're out here getting drunk instead of getting wasted at my bar."

Rafe smirks. "Miss me?"

"No, it was good for business." You say, matter-of-fact, and the look on his face dies off. You feel guilty. Adding on, you rectify, "and, you would've had someone to talk to. I don't think the people around here are offering that."

He says nothing, watching you work. You exchanged the bloodied pads for some ointment.

"It's just about Sarah again." He mutters, almost like he didn't want you to hear but knowing you would. "Same shit. Same golden child."

You nod, finally flicking your gaze down to his. His blue eyes are so prominent now, so clear, you wonder if you could get lost in them.

Rafe doesn't disclose any details like he normally does. When he goes on long tangents about the problem. It must've been bad. So, you lower your hand and cup his face, tilting his face to meet yours. "Want to talk about it?"

He swallows hard. "I don't want to talk."

"What do you want to do?"

"Fuck." He answers without a thought, the ability to shift into a fuck-mode is easier than digesting his feelings. You laugh, inappropriately, dropping your hand from his cheeks. You're about to push yourself off his lap—having bandaged him up—and let him go find his next hookup, but his grip on your waist tightens.

He doesn't say anything with that move, and you tilt your head at him.

"I thought I was below your level?" You tease.

"Yet, you're sitting on my dick right now," he says, eyes following yours. "What do you think that means?"

While you're not directly on him, you can feel his hard-on swelling under his pants, lightly grazing against your core, and causing a small ache between your legs.

"That you're horny enough to go for a Pogue."

He scoffs, lowering his hands to your ass and palms the flesh. Your eyes flutter close at the moment. "Who knew you were hiding such a nice body behind that counter?"

"You just haven't been paying attention."

"I am now."

His hands lowering to your hips, slowly pulling you down his lap, realigning your cunt until it sits directly on top of his zipper. He leans forward, his hot mouth against your ear. "If I tell you to grind on me, would you do it?"

You place a hand on his chest, trying to ease some space between the two of you, but your attempt was weak. Some part of you didn't want to leave.

"You're pushing it."

"What if I told you it would make me feel better?" He whispers, his fingers trailing up your skirt, against your bare thighs, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "That you can consider it part of your deal."

Your breath hitch in surprise. "You're saying yes?"

"I was going to," he pulls back to meet your face, "but you ran away."

"You said no to me," you remind him.

"To rile you up," he says, like an asshole, and you scoff. "Didn't think you would just leave like that."

"Maybe you should give me clear answers then."

"Fine," his breath is right in front of yours. "I want you to ride me."

Your eyes trail his face, your hands finding his shoulders. You know you shouldn't. You know if this is supposed to be fake, why do you feel a deep, carnal urge for him. If this happens, it opens the door to other things. But, something in you softens. He did get a bruise for you. He did defend you. He's in pain and you're in need.

Maybe you could use each other.

Slowly, your hips roll against his. The look on his face hints at surprise that you took the bait and causes you to smirk, gripping his shoulders harder when you find the hard cock lined against your panties. You press down.

"Fuck," he groans raspily, "just like that."

The praise lights something in you. "Like that?" You repeat, pushing yourself against his jeans, rubbing up and down, that you can feel him grow harder and harder against the seams of his pants. He nods shakily. "Is it making you feel better, baby?"

He knows you're taunting him, using his words, but he fucking loves it. You're listening. For once, you're not actively trying to spite him and knock back—but willing, to him.

"That's right," he compliments, his gaze following your body as you are starting to find a rhythm against him. Your movements are getting sloppier. "Just what I need. A Pogue who listens to whatever I fucking say."

You nod vigorously, feeling your wetness growing against your panties, drenching the material enough to leak through and rub off against the front of his pants.

"God, look at you," he muses in your ear, glancing down, and a chuckle leaves his throat. "You made such a mess."

"Feel so good," you moan, you tip your head back as the friction of his jeans feels incredibly perfect against your swollen clit.

"Come on, sweetheart," his grip around your waist tightens, afraid with the way you're moving, you're going to fall off. "Ride me."

You follow his direction, quickening your pace as low groans and rasps leaves his lips at the sensation you're making him feel. The sound is like drugs to you, fueling you, because you want to desperately help him arrive at his own climax.

You wrap both your arms around his neck, grinding ruthlessly against his lap. Leaning forward, you dip your face into the crook of his neck. "Come on, Rafe," you whisper into his ear, closing into your own orgasm. "Come for me."

As you came with a moan, your movements didn't stop. Your legs ache, begging to stop, but you want him to get there too.

"Fuck, fuck," he moans at your aggression, at how hard you're pressed against him, moving against him, it's a mesmerizing sight. "I'm coming."

You feel it against your core. The subtle twitch of his dick under the jeans. The faint wetness under you, mixed with your own cum, produces a small smile against your lips.

You slow your grind, pulling back, just to meet his eyes clearing from their post-orgasmic haze, and his grip has weakened significantly around your body. When you stop completely, you push yourself off of him, finding your feet on solid ground with wobbly legs.

"Better?" You tease, to which he nods weakly through heavy-lids. With a satisfied smile, you turn around and head for the door.

"I'll see you on our first date." 

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Navigation — Part 01 | Part 02 | Part 03

[brenwritesss]

𝐓𝐫𝐮 𝐅𝐫𝐮 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

⋆˚࿔Paige Bueckers x reader ❀˖°

Summary: Paige invites you over to her dorm, allowing the two of you to get to know each other.

(If you want an alternate smut version, let me know! Or if you want a part 3)

(Also sorry for the real late upload, I ended up rotting in bed all day yesterday and never finished the ending to this part)

You stood in front of her door for five minutes, contemplating whether or not you should even be here right now. You had just met this girl twenty minutes ago and she didn’t even second guess having you over at her place. Should that have been a red flag? 

You don’t even know what the two of you would be doing once you were inside. What was there to talk about? Considering you didn’t even know who she was, you doubt there would be much in common. You put your keys into your pocket, allowing you to knock on her door after almost running back down the hall and back into your car. 

You heard someone stumble on the other side of the door, a few voices rising to the surface. You were unaware that she had roommates. You stood there quietly, taking in your last few seconds before the door opened. A girl who wasn’t Paige and was taller than you, looked at you confused. “Hi?”

“Hi, uh Paige invited me over. Is this the right dorm?” You looked back at your phone making sure the room number she gave you matched the room you were at right now. And there were no mistakes.

Her confusion turned into smiles when she said, “Oh, you’re the Tru Fru stealer.”

“Excuse me?”

She broke out into laughter. “Yeah, you kinda dirty for that, not gonna lie.”

You shook your head. “I didn’t steal anything, it’s her fault for not getting there sooner and taking it.”

“And you right,” she moved away from the entrance, allowing you to walk inside. “I’m KK, by the way.”

You smiled at her, turning towards her. “Y/n. I’m assuming you’re on the basketball team too?”

“And a Tru Fru lover. So I better not be seeing you in any Target taking the last bag,” she said in a tone that let you know she was joking.

“So who’s better? You or Paige?”

“Girl, me for real. Trust.” There was something about KK that instantly brightened your mood. You didn’t know how to explain it. 

“Yo KK, down to join me in a new round?” Another girl walked out of a room towards your left. She was wearing a hoodie just like KK, her braids coming down to cover the top of the letters. She held a video game controller as she stopped when she saw you in the middle of their living room.

You gave her a small wave, smiling shyly. “I’m Y/n.”

“You’re Y/n? I’m Ice. Girl you are gorgeous,” she said, complimenting you.

A blush tinted your cheeks and you let out a small laugh, “thank you, that’s so nice. You are so pretty.”

She flipped her hair back with her hand. “Thanks girl.”

“Ay, what y’all doin out here,” Paige’s voice echoed through a small hallway, stopping short when she sees you standing next to KK. Her arms going behind her back, she smiled at you, “I didn’t know if you would actually stop by.”

You shrugged. “It’s not like I had anything better to do,” you joked. “And this bag is too big to keep to myself.” You held up the Tru Fru bag that you two fought over.

Both KK and Ice snickered, obviously knowing what had happened at Target. “You still want to pay up?” You threw her the bag, Paige catching it with ease.

She looked you up and down and that familiar feeling you had felt back in Target resurfaced. Paige was still in that Tru Fru sweatshirt and UConn sweatpants that you had met her in. That hoodie is about to be mine, you thought to yourself.

“Nah, I like having your number more,” she said, making the butterflies in your stomach multiply. 

Ice made a sound, making everyone turn towards her. “Okay Paige coming in with the rizz.”

“Shut the hell up,” Paige scolded, lightly smacking her arm with her free hand.

KK pulled out her phone, “Yo, we finna call Nika and Azzi and show them your mad flirting skills.”

Paige rolled her eyes while you laughed, having no clue who Azzi and Nika were but you assumed they were more of Paige’s teammates. Paige walks towards you, eyes on KK. “You’re not gonna call them and we are gonna go chill in my room.”

Paige grabbed your hand and the action surprised you. Ice gave you and Paige a look that screamed ‘what the fuck’ while KK just continued laughing, typing in her phone.

Paige led you into her room, which was bare compared to yours. Her bed was fit into the corner, a bright purple comforter atop that you just wanted to snuggle into. Her dresser was directly across, a TV and a playstation decorating the top of the dresser. Next to her bed was a nightstand holding a pile of books.

You stood in the middle of the room, not really knowing what to do. “Nice room.”

“Thanks,” she said, more of a whisper. After closing the door behind her, she leaned against it. “Sorry about my teammates, they’re joking.”

“Oh I don’t mind,” you assured her, “my roommate is the same way, so I get it.”

She smiled at you and pointed toward her bed. “You’re chill to sit down.”

“Thanks,” you smiled back and took a seat on her bed. You couldn’t lie, this was incredibly awkward as you both didn’t know what to say. 

Paige sat down next to you, looking at you while opening the Tru Fru bag. “So, what’s your major?”

“Biology. What about you?”

“Oh shit,” she said. “Biology’s cool. I’m majoring in human development, family studies. But I plan to go pro in the league after I graduate.” 

You admired her determination in her answer. Even after only knowing her for an extremely short amount of time, you could tell she was very passionate about basketball. Just like how you were with biology. How you both were willing to do anything to achieve your goals in your careers.

“How long have you been playing?”

Paige adjusted her seating, turning more towards you. And closer to you. “Since I was a kid. You have no idea how many photos my mom has of me in basketball jerseys when I was like seven years old.”

“I don’t think I could ever play a sport like basketball. But hockey,” you continued, “that’s where it’s at.”

Paige raised her eyebrows, your comment earning a chuckle from her. “Really? Hockey?”

You nodded. “Yeah, it’s a hot sport to play.”

“So is basketball not hot?” she asked, popping a piece of Tru Fru into her mouth.

You reached into the bag, grabbing a handful and moving your legs up onto her bed so that your whole body was now on her bed. “It’s hit or miss.”

“Watch me play then that’ll change your mind,” she winked, earning a laugh from you.

“You inviting me to your game?”

“Obviously.”

You both stayed there for a while, eating the fruit. You could feel the tension between you two so you took to looking around her room while you could feel her eyes on you, examining every part of you. “So do you play hockey?” Paige asked you.

You shook your head. “I wish.”

“You should,” she said as she leaned towards you. Only a few centimeters toward your ear she whispered, “since it’s a hot sport, you’ll fit right in.”

“Well now I have to play,” you whispered back.

Still close to your face, her eyes lingered on your lips then back up to your eyes. “So what do you think?”

“Of?”

“Tru Fru.” She holds the bag in between your faces. You grab it from her, eating some. “It’s actually better than I thought it would be. I can see why you’re so obsessed with it.”

“I’m not obsessed.”

“Explain the merch then,” you said, pointing to her sweatshirt.

“Playing college basketball has its perks,” she whispered once more and gently grabbed your hand. You had a Tru Fru piece in between your fingers that you were about to eat. Paige guided your hand toward her mouth, her lips tickling your fingers as she took the piece from your hand. “Like getting a pretty girl’s number.”

Every part of you melted when she did that with your hand. “You’re gonna have to try a lot harder than that to make me fold.” That was a lie, you were folding right about now.

“Deal.”

There were a few voices outside Paige’s door but the two of you drowned out the sound with the growing tension between the two of you. You smiled at her, biting your lip in the process. Paige’s hand was still wrapped around yours when KK barged into the room.

“Hey Paige, the live wants to say-oh shit,” KK yelled, turning the phone away.

“KK, what the fuck,” Paige shouts, moving away from you in an instant. Ice came in, taking the phone from KK and going into another room.

KK ran up to the two of you. “Y’all I’m so sorry, I thought y’all were chillin’ playing video games or something, not making out.”

You set down the Tru Fru bag. “We weren’t making out. We were talking about hockey.”

Paige looked at you then back at KK. “Why would you go live right now? You do realize they just got a full view of her right?”

“What?” you asked, confused as to what they were talking about.

“Bro, I’m sorry. You know I wouldn’t do it on purpose.” KK looked scared almost. Not at Paige, but of what happened. Or what was going to happen.

You stood up, backing away from Paige and KK. “Can you guys tell me what’s going on?”

Paige itched the back of her neck, scrunching up her nose. “KK was live on instagram and she walked in with the camera pointed at us.”

You shrugged. “That’s not bad. Only a few people were on the live right?”

KK gave you an anxious look. “No yeah, it was only a few,” she trailed off, “thousand.”

You swear your eyes could have popped out from your skull with how wide they grew. “I’m sorry, what?”

KK continued apologizing, “I’m so sorry Y/n, but a few thousand people just saw what looked like you and Paige kissing on live.”

"I'm assuming that's really bad then?" you asked.

Paige walked over to you, looking you in the eyes when she says, "I'll make this up to you with all the Tru Fru you want because this is about to be trending on social media for a bit."

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Deja Vu | Jeon Jungkook | One Shot

Summary: Life hadn't gone down the path you had hoped for but the one who made that choice for you isn't someone you want to see ever again. Pairing: f!reader x Jungkook, childhood friends Word Count: 3k~ a/n: I wrote this last night in one go so I figured I might as well post it...let me know if you guys would like to see this from Jungkook's pov 👀 p.s. I got lazy and hardly edited this but I hope you guys like it lol Oh and this is loosely based off of the very beginning of Deja Vu by Tomorrow x Together

My fingers ghost along the spines of the books I pass by, looking for something that might catch my eye because yes sometimes I do judge a book by it's cover.

Finding one that seems interesting enough I turn it over, reading the summary of the fifth romance novel I've picked up since I've been here but when the bell on the door jingles giving notice of a newcomer I turn to see who it is...and I really I wish I hadn't.

My palms instantly clam up leaving me nervously wiping them off on my sweater so I don't damage the book but I can't let go of it since it's my only form of shelter, hiding in plain sight from the person I hoped to never see again.

Curiosity get's the best of me though, watching as he sits down and pulls out his laptop at one of the tables in this cafe bookstore hybrid, one of my favorites places in the city that I'll probably never come to again in fear of running into him.

He pulls a camera out of his bag and takes the memory card out before putting it in his computer to upload it's contents.

I guess he did end up becoming a photographer like he always wanted.

It's strange seeing someone who was so important to you for so many years become someone you barely even recognize. But that's the thing, I do recognize him and I hate the fact that no matter how hard I try I can't help think of him often. How is he doing? What does his life look like now? Has he finally found someone to love like I have?

Seeing him makes me doubt everything though, but that's just what he does. He makes it impossible for me not to be drawn to him, wanting to talk to him, to laugh with him, to be with him.

I thought I had moved past that. Thought that this silly little childhood crush had been nothing but that, a stupid crush that I finally grew out of.

But seeing him here tells me it's everything but that.

I look from him to the book I'm hiding behind, trying to distract myself and with the amount of effort I'm putting in it actually works...for a little while.

My eyes are begging me to let them wander again, indulge in the desire to observe him even if nothing comes from it and once I decide that one more look can't hurt instead of meeting his brows furrowed in concentration I meet his eyes.

His soft chocolate brown eyes that I've willed myself not to drown in time and time again are looking back at me, a soft smile reaching his lips when he finally sees me notice him making me sick to my stomach. 

Turning as subtly as I can I walk further into the maze of shelves around me, praying his interest in me was only fleeting and that he in fact did not recognize me.

After a few minutes of hiding in the corner that not many notice as it's a rather unpopular genre I let out the breath that I had decided to hold at some point, my need to be invisible necessary to my survival but when I decide the coast is clear and walk out of my little nook I bump into the exact person I wish I had never met all those years ago.

He holds onto my forearm as he sees me stumble back, unsure of if this minor collision would result in a fall and with his help, that I hate to admit I needed in the moment, prevents that mortifying occurrence from happening.

"I'm sorry that was my fault" he says and lets go of my arm, thankfully noticing how uncomfortable I am with his touch from my body language. "No it was mine, I should've been more careful coming out from behind that corner" I admit, a common courtesy after interactions like this, neither one wanting to admit it was the other persons fault.

"Well regardless I'm sorry" he says and I nod my head, looking down at the floor to avoid giving him a chance to recognize me. "I'm glad I caught you though, a fall against a bookshelf doesn't sound the most desirable" he chuckles, hoping to diffuse the awkward air around us but there's no use in him trying. He made that decision for the both of us a long time ago...

*Seven years ago*

"Please say something" I mumble, the five feet between us feeling like we're lightyears away, the silence a twin to the vacuum that is space.

He's right there but I know I've lost him for good with this stupid decision. "I don't know what to say" he mumbles right back leaving me scoffing in disbelief. "Then make something up. Anything is better than this" I say in reference to the radio silence between us since I decided to confess to him.

I know I shouldn't have done it. I know I'm selfish for telling him after all of these years and not simply fessing up to how I felt about him long ago but I was afraid that something like this might happen, and I was right. 

I hate that when it comes to him that I'm always right.

I could let us part ways and go to college leaving things left unsaid but I stupidly hoped that we could make it work. Do long distance so we wouldn't feel the need to go on dates or even worry about getting physical if it got to that point.

In my silly little crush clouded brain I thought that he would at least give us a shot but I know it was useless.

I know he doesn't feel the same way about me but I didn't realize it was gonna be this fucking hard.

"Just say something!" I say, raising my voice at him since I need to do something to keep myself from suffocating. "What do you fucking want me to say?" he throws back, getting just as upset but he has no reason to be acting like this, not when he holds our future in the palm of his hand.

"Say you don't like me, say you're not into me like that because from this reaction alone I know you probably don't feel the same way! Anything but this..." I say, my tone harsh but softening at the end, wanting to be mad at him but he's done nothing wrong. 

Nothing except for giving me false hope that we could be something more.

"I don't know how I feel about you" he admits and I scoff. "Well when you figure it out, you know where to find me" I say and pick up my bag that I had discarded on the table I had been sat on, waiting for him to finally show up.

I had decided to do this off campus.

We're seniors and although the rumors and humiliation from his rejection wouldn't go around for long it wasn't worth it to have the off chance of an audience.

No doubt they'll still circulate since the two of us have been conjoined at the hip since childhood but keeping the actual event from prying eyes was the best I could do.

I take one last look at him but his eyes are turned down, not even able to look me and so I walk to my car as fast as I can, holding back the stupid fucking tears that I told myself I would never cry.

I've always been told that boys aren't worth my tears, but he's not just some boy...

*Back to present time*

"Right um, thanks" I say and continue to look at my shoes, noticing the small scuff marks that I had accumulated from the many trips out I had taken them on, anything to distract myself from the man in front of me.

"I uh, I noticed you reading over there," he says, waving towards the general direction he had seen me at, "thought I would come over and introduce myself" he says, not letting me go with that simple apology for the unfortunate opening to us meeting again, though he doesn't know yet that we have absolutely no need for an introduction.

"Do you hunt down and force introductions with strangers often?" I mumble, wanting to be taken as closed off and disinterested as possible. He chuckles and I fucking hate how it makes my heart flutter, the same sound I had heard time and time again, although a little deeper now but no less charming.

"No, not often, but I didn't want to miss my opportunity since you decided to run off as soon as I caught your eye" he says, pointing out my obvious efforts of escape.

"I'm Jungkook" he says after there's been a lull in the conversation, holding out his hand for me to shake and after a pregnant pause I decide to take it, offering at least a common courtesy since I'm not the asshole in this relationship, or lack there of.

"It's nice to meet you" he says and I mumble the same sentiment back, not meaning a single word of it. "Do you talk to people's shoes often?" he teases as I haven't met his eyes since that initial glance, one he found inviting where as I felt was an ignition to my fight or flight, and unfortunately for me, yet fortunately for him, I chose wrong.

"That's not what I'm doing" I say, finally facing him, the difference in height a lot bigger than I remembered, his amused smile making it even more nerve racking, my body begging me to get the hell out of here.

"Then what is it that you were doing?" he asks, a crooked smile on his face but when a couple of beats passes by without me giving him an answer he takes that time to study me and when I see his expression changes to one of recognition I know there's no use in trying to get away unscathed.

"Yn?" he asks, my name no doubt feeling foreign on his lips but the way it sound to me is heartbreaking, a sound that I had hoped I would never hear again.

I decide to just look up at him, facing my fear since the answer to his barely articulated inquiry is quiet obvious to him now.

"What has it been, five year? Six years?" he asks, his eyes lighting up and his tone a relaxed one as if this is a happy reunion, showing that my feelings had really meant nothing to him.

"Seven actually" I say and he sighs in disbelief, "Has it really been that long?" he asks, a stupid question that could’ve been solved by a couple of seconds of mental math but I just hum as a response and try to walk past him, my first efforts of escape.

"Woah woah woah, where are you going?" he asks as if he had a right to keep me here. "Home" I say and try to walk down the path that'll lead me out of this bookstore that feels a lot smaller now.

"Do you have a second? I thought we could catch up? Maybe grab a coffee or something?" he suggests, nodding towards the cafe and I sigh, trying to think of the best way to shoot him down but luckily I don't have to, at least not now.

"I've been looking everywhere for you" David, my fiancé says, placing a just barely there kiss on my cheek as a way to somewhat establish our relationship to this unknown man in front of me.

When there's been another pause with me making no efforts of introduction David decides to take the initiative. "David" he says simply, holding out his hand for Jungkook to shake and he gives his name right back, their eye contact quickly broken as Jungkook's decided to bring his eyes back to me.

"Honey who's this?" David asks in a soft tone, placing a hand on my waist in reassurance, showing me he's not upset after finding me talking to this mystery man from his perspective. 

"We used to be friends back in school" Jungkook says when I still decide to hold my tongue, making this interaction even more uncomfortable than it needs to be but I have no obligation to make this go smoothly. His admission to having lost touch cracks open up a scab on my heart that I thought had healed long ago. 

"Oh, so you guys grew up together?" David asks and Jungkook nods. "Yeah...we did" he says softly, still looking at me as I've decided to look away from him after a few exchanges between the two of them.

"Honey do you think you could pull the car around? I'm sure he has something to get back to, as do we" I say, hoping he won't mind following my request without a need to ask for clarification. "Sure love, I'll text you when I'm out front" he says, him knowing that I'd no doubt like I second to wrap things up alone while remembering that we had to park pretty far away as it's an uncharacteristically busy day today.

"Thanks" I mouth to him and he places a kiss on my temple before holding his hand out for Jungkook again. "It was nice to meet you" he says and Jungkook nods half heartedly, "Yeah, you too" and he watches his back for a second as David leaves before turning his attention back to me.

"Boyfriend?" he asks unceremoniously, "Fiancé, actually" I say and he looks down and indeed sees the beautiful ring David had gotten me.

"Wow! Um, congratulations" he says, trying his hand at a halfhearted sentiment but failing miserably. "Yeah we've been together for four years so we figured it was time" I say and he nods his head giving me a sad smile.

"Well I'm happy for you" he says softly and I scoff, "No" I say abruptly to the point he flinches. "No?" he says as if he had never uttered the word before.

"You do not get to act like a kicked puppy because you didn't think I would move on" I say and place my pointer finger on his chest and he steps back as I apply pressure.

"What do you mean? I only said I was happy for you" he says as if he hadn't put on the saddest doe eyes he has ever given me. "You know you've gotten even more transparent with age" I say and he goes to open his mouth but I'm not done with him yet.

"You waltzed over here probably thinking I was just some cute girl that you wanted to shoot your shot with but when you found out it was me you wanted to what? Get a coffee? Act like nothing ever happened? Go back to the way we were? Or did you think you actually had a shot with me after everything you put me through?" I say practically shaking from the intensity of the words that I can't stop from coming out.

No warmth, no compassion left in my tone, just pure anger and disgust and I can tell from the way he's no longer carrying himself as confidently as before, he wasn't expecting this kind of a reaction from me.

After another pause as painful as the one all those years ago I scoff again, crossing my arms over my chest, losing patience with this conversation. "You gonna say something or are you still trying to figure out how you feel about me? Or better yet did you even bother to?" I spit out and he shakes his head.

"I was scared and stupid and selfish and couldn't figure out what the hell I wanted" he says, seemingly becoming more articulate over the years, but just barely.

"Is that all you have to say to me?" I ask, his explanation subpar at best. "Y/n I was eighteen and scared of losing you. You were the most important person in my life, and in some ways you still are" he admits but I shake my head and step away from him making him take a step towards me.

"You do not get to go around acting like the victim saying things like that just to mess with my head" I seethe, appalled that he thinks he has the right to say that to me. "Y/n I didn't mean to-"

"You know what?" I say, cutting him off, "I always thought that what you did, or didn't even bother to do showed that you didn't care about my feelings, but I never thought of you as being cruel. Maybe that whole time you were just toying with my feeling just because you could. You never expected me to have the guts to finally tell you how I felt huh?"

"Y/n please that's not what happened" he says, chasing after me when I start to walk away from him. "Then what did happen huh?" I spit out, waiting for whatever sorry excuse to come out of his mouth.

"I never meant to hurt you..." he says, reaching out for my hand but I move out of the way.

I give him one last once over, looking at how heartbroken and pathetic he looks but I have no sympathy for him and from the way the last bit of hope drains from his eyes he finally realizes that there's no saving this.

He tries once more to say something but we're interrupted by the text we both knew I was begging to come in.

"Y/n..." he says and tries to see if I'll give him one last chance but I turn my back and walk towards the door, my hand resting on the handle for longer than necessary, contemplating if this was the right choice but for the sake of my future I know that it was.

"Goodbye Jungkook" I utter under my breath and pull the door open to walk out. When I turn back to close the door behind me I do myself a horrible disservice by looking through the glass and seeing an expression on his face that I'll never forget.

Loss

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[little-diable]

Cherry - Dean Winchester (smut)

I dedicate this one to @waynes-multiverse since we still haven’t managed to meet up (us busy bees). But I hope this little piece will still be fun to read!! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. Xxx

Summary: Dean has been a subscriber of Cherry’s page for quite some time, so it feels like an absolute dream once their paths cross in real life.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, car sex, strangers to lovers, reader posts spicy videos online, loverboy Dean, choking, spitting, handjobs, the full program

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (1.9k words)

With a sigh Dean stepped into the bathroom, thankful that Sam had fallen asleep a while ago. He sat down on the edge of the bathtub, green eyes focused on the screen. It was a routine by now, hiding away in the depth of the night after another exhausting day, only to find her profile for a few moments of distraction. 

Dean couldn’t remember how he had first found the profile, but he was grateful for it. He loved seeing her pop up on his screen, offering glimpses of the body he wanted to feel beneath his hands. His tongue ran along his lower lip, waiting for the shitty motel wifi to finally load her full profile and the new posts she had uploaded, which forced a groan out of him the second he finally saw all of her. 

Without taking his eyes off the screen, Dean undid his trousers, set on quickly getting himself off before catching a few hours of sleep. He leaned back further, back pressed against the old tiles while he clicked onto the newest video she had uploaded. Fuck, he loved watching her, loved the sounds she made while touching herself for all the people paying for her content. 

His hand took care of his aching cock, stroking himself to match the rhythm of her moans. Dean swore that he had never seen something this beautiful before, the lace barely covering her breasts, the perfectly painted fingernails which circled her bundle of nerves with enough pressure to make her tremble. He hated how much power this woman he had never met before had over him, but Dean wouldn’t ever pull back from her. She was everything he wanted, everything he’d never have. 

…

“I’ll be back in a minute.” Dean mumbled the words while Sam kept looking at their notes, combing through their research. With fast steps Dean entered the shop, set on buying some more beer before they’d leave for their next appointment at the sheriff’s office. 

He hummed a song while walking down the aisle, hoping that the following hours would pass quickly enough for him to be able to check her profile again. But just as Dean rounded the corner, he bumped into someone, arms reached out to catch the falling person. And then everything stopped moving. 

“Cherry?” The name rolled off his tongue as he took the familiar face in. Wide pupils stared at him as she cleared her throat while letting go of an embarrassed chuckle. 

“Well, this is awkward.” Dean couldn’t stop staring at her. She was even more beautiful than in her videos, he was utterly fucked. 

“Sorry, that was probably creepy of me, huh?” A small giggle left her while her eyes took in his features, and slowly Dean began to relax. He was all too used to the effect he had on most women, loving the way they stared at him with big eyes, taking in every inch of his features as if they were scared to miss something. 

“Don’t worry, I guess I should expect this to happen more often. But thank you for catching me, -“ she looked at him expectantly, with her smile only growing wider as he introduced himself with his first name. “Thank you, Dean. I should let you get to it, but how about a beer tonight, as a thank you?”

“I certainly won’t say no to some beer and a pretty girl keeping me company. Give me your phone, then you can text me a time and a place.” Dean typed in his number before he gave her the phone back with a smile. Both held eye contact for another second before she turned from him with a small wave, disappearing from his sight. 

The second she was gone, Dean had to let go of a deep breath to ground himself and to realise what had just happened. His head was spinning, even as he stumbled back to Baby and almost fell into his seat with a smirk so wide even Sam began to pick up on it. 

“Dude, you won’t believe what just happened.”

…

“So, you’ll leave tomorrow?” She leaned closer, fingertips firmly pressed against his lower arm. (Y/n) had met Dean at the bar hours ago, easily falling into a conversation both didn’t ever want to end again. 

“Mhm, probably. Why? You’ll miss me?” (Y/n) threw her head back with a laugh, but her hand tightened his grip on Dean. A part of him revelled in the fact that she wanted him close while she undoubtedly could have any guy she wanted. Another part cursed him for giving into this longing when he knew he’d struggle to let go of her. 

“I don’t know yet, I guess you’ll have to show me what else there is to miss.” Without understanding what she was doing at first, Dean watched her lean close enough for her lips to ghost over his. After a second or two he gave in, deepening the kiss with a gritty laugh leaving him. Even kissing her felt more perfect than he could have imagined, only worsening the inner struggles he felt. “I want you to fuck me on the backseat of that nice car of yours.” 

“That car has a name and I don’t play around when it comes to her. I only fuck the special ladies on Baby’s backseat.” The grin he wore only grew wider as (y/n) broke out into another fit of giggles. Giggles that were drowned out by the sound of Dean pushing back his chair to stand up before reaching his hand out for her to take. He pulled (y/n) out into the night while his hand found its way to her ass, disappearing in the back pocket of her jeans. 

Wordlessly he helped her into Baby before he started the car, set on driving a few miles down the road until they’d find a quiet enough spot. It didn’t take Dean and (y/n) long to move into the backseat, lips connected, hands fumbling with one another’s clothes. 

“This feels like a fucking dream, you’re even prettier than in all of your pictures.” Dean mumbled the words against her lips the second he felt her breasts against his hands. He had to part from her for a second, green eyes taking in her upper body as (y/n) rolled her hips. It was a sight for sore eyes, a sight so beautiful, Dean feared he’d cum in his pants before he even got a chance to fuck her. “Careful there, sweetheart, I don’t know how much longer I can hold back.”

“Oh, I don’t want you to hold back, Dean. Definitely not.” The devilish smirk she wore made his cock twitch in his pants, drawing a groan from Dean’s lips. He kissed her again, firmer this time while he silently thanked her for wearing a skirt which allowed his wandering fingers to find her already damp panties. 

(Y/n) was just as impatient, set on burning her touch into his body as if it was a map people would find centuries from now, using it to decode an old secret. She was quick with her hands, undoing his pants to grasp his aching cock with skilled fingers, pumping him at the same time he pressed his fingers against her bundle of nerves.

Both moaned in unison, pushing even closer to use more pressure for their touch. They were ready to lose themselves in the moment, unable to think of anything but the somewhat stranger they were ready to give their body to. It was a dance, a dance both seemed to have perfected years ago but were only now getting the chance to fully pull through with.

“Fuck, you’re so big, I can’t wait to fuck you.” (Y/n)’s moaned words made Dean groan into the darkness. His lips found hers with one hand pressed to the back of her head, not daring to leave any room between them. Their tongues met, tangling themselves together as their bodies burned from inside out. 

“Babygirl, you can fuck me any way you want.” It was all (y/n) needed to hear. She pushed back on his lap to get lost in his eyes while Dean reached for a condom she then rolled down on his cock. Deep down he wanted to drag out this moment, well aware that this was probably the only chance he’d ever get to fuck her, but his body was too eager, needing to feel her wrapped around him.

They held eye contact as (y/n) sank down on his cock, panties pulled aside. Baby seemed to grow hotter with every passing moment, allowing their moans to fill the car like it was the only song Baby would ever be able to play. With one hand placed on (y/n)’s hips, the other found her throat, as if Dean needed to hold her to remind himself that all of this was very much real. 

“Look at that fucking perfect pair of tits, shit, I fucked my hand to them too many times.” A breathy chuckle left her at his praising words, a chuckle that turned into a moan the second Dean tightened his hold on her. He stared at (y/n) for a second before he shifted them around, pulling out of her to press her down on the seat. 

“Oh God, Dean.” Her eyes fluttered close the second he entered her again. Their hips met with every ferocious thrust, burying him deeper and deeper inside of her as if he was closer to heaven than ever before. “Right there, fuck, please.”

He fucked against the spot again, set on making her cum with his eyes fully focused on her pleasure-drunken features. Wordlessly he tapped her chin, proudly grinning as she opened her mouth, staring at him while he spat down on her tongue, making her swallow as if she had always been his. 

“You’re mine, hope you’ll fucking remember this.” His raspy words made her whimper, all she could do was nod her head while tightening her legs around his waist. She was about to cum, walls fluttering around his cock, while she rubbed her bundle of nerves with trembling fingers.

And then she came. And Dean could have sworn that he’d never seen a sight this beautiful. She choked on his name, eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back. He kept snapping his hips, high on the feeling of her walls clenching around him so tightly he feared he’d never be able to pull away again.

“Christ, baby, you’re perfect.” Dean groaned the words the second he came, filling the condom with his release. Both were panting, unable to let go of one another while she chased his lips for another kiss. 

“I don’t think I can let you leave tomorrow.” (Y/n) whispered the words into the darkness, feeling Dean chuckle against her throat as he kissed her there. 

“So I managed to show you what’s there to miss, hm?”

[suhkusa]

EGOIST 19.

PAIRING. Atsumu Miya x f!Reader

CW. hurthurt hurt!!!!, no comfort at all, angst, any other words that describe hurt or angst then yes

A/N. ;-;

-> MASTERLIST.

Angie [10:02AM]: URE the one who took those pics. i just happened to find them

Angie [10:02AM]: who do you think uploaded that picture of sakusa n that girl? lol u can finally get ur mind off of her now

Angie [10:03AM]: what do u say? u tryna come over or what ;)

You drop his phone. The feeling of absolute dread that you’re feeling is something you’d never wish on anyone. Not even your worst enemies.

You can feel your heartbeat pick up the pace. It feels like your heart is physically breaking. Everything that you thought you had let go is coming back to haunt you.

You should’ve known better. You did know better. But you’re weak. Just that weak little girl in high school who let Atsumu Miya walk all over her as he pleased.

He took that picture? He sent it to someone who then posted it? He is sleeping around while claiming he “loves” you?

There’s tears that are falling that you hadn’t even noticed.

You’re a fool. Nothing short of it. Anyone could tell you that you were. Trying to date someone who absolutely hated your guts for no reason? You’re a pathetic fool.

You quickly grab your keys from the coffee table, you need to leave. You’re heading for the front door when the shutting of another door catches you off guard.

“Y/N?” he starts, “where are you going?”

Him saying your name sent pure dread through your body. And him asking that stupid question made you see red.

“Don’t you fucking dare act stupid, Atsumu,” you snap at him as you turn around, your eyes meet his confused ones, “You know what you fucking did,”

Atsumu’s eyes snap between yours and his phone before he’s the one who looks betrayed. 

“You searched through my phone?”

“Yes! And good thing I did, because when were you going to tell me? Hm?” you yell, “You were the one who took that picture?” 

His eyes widen, “Y-Yeah, but it was never my intention to let it get out like that,”

“Boo fucking who, Atsumu! It’s out, so now what? Me and Kiyoomi’s reputation is tarnished!” there’s tears streaming down your face, “And tell me, who is Angie? Really?”

“She’s-”

“Oh! Let me guess, she’s another girl you fuck and love so much, right?”

“No! I ended shit with her a while ago!” he’s getting heated too, you can tell.

“And when was that exactly?”

There’s silence.

“Before the playoffs,” 

“And did you sleep with her?” you push.

“I didn’t want to, she-”

“The day before you asked me on a date?” you sob, “I should’ve known- there were so many signs, I never fucking learn,”

“Y/N,” he’s walking towards you, reaching out for you, “I’m sorry, but you have to understand,”

You slap his hands away from you, “Don’t touch me Atsumu! You don’t get to apologize to me, your apologies mean absolutely nothing,”

“You’re not letting me talk!”

“Because I don’t want to hear it!” you yell at him, “All I’ve done is hear you out and give you chances, and look where it’s gotten me!”

Atsumu looks at you dejectedly.

“I love you, Y/N!” now he sounds like he’s about to cry. “I’m sorry it took me so long but I love you,”

You’re sobbing as he tries to get you to hear him, he comes onto you and embraces you in a warm hug. A hug that would’ve comforted you a while ago, but now all it makes you feel is disgusted.

“I’m sorry I keep fucking up, but everything I’ve done for you is genuine. I want you so fucking bad it makes my head hurt, so bad I want to die,” he’s pleading with you, and all you can feel is pity for him.

“Just stay with me please, I haven’t even gotten the chance to make it official with you. There’s so much shit I wanted to do with you, you don’t get it,” he begs, he’s hugging onto you like you’re going to disappear into thin air. His own tears are wetting your- his- shirt.

Your heart strings are being tugged every which way, and you’ve had enough.

“Atsumu,” you say calmly.

You can hear him sniffle, before he backs up off of you.

You take in his appearance and find it absolutely crazy how there was a point in time that he was making you cry and feel worthless. You’ve got a man who was once filled with pride and ego, essentially down on his knees begging and crying for you. 

“Whatever this is between us, done. I want absolutely nothing to do with you ever again. If you try to reach out to me in any shape or form, I won’t hesitate to call the cops on you,” he sniffles in between each of your words, “Goodbye, Miya,”

You unlock the door before walking out. Not even sparing a glance back at Atsumu.

Leaving him alone with all of his own despair.

———

It’s been a couple days and Atsumu is distraught. He doesn’t know what to do. He feels like he’s tried everything. 

If this was months ago, he would’ve let you walk away with no retorts. But this was now, and now he was in love with you. And it feels like if he lets you go now, everything he’s done would have been for nothing.

You changed him. You, the girl whose life he basically ruined in high school, changed Atsumu Miya in ways he would have never expected. You made him feel like there was something to care about. Like there was purpose in his life. That maybe he didn’t have to be a dick to every woman he meets in his life. 

You didn’t even have to try was the worst part. You didn’t do anything to get him to change, being in your presence was enough. And now he had nothing.

He tried calling anyone who would know where you are, even Kiyoomi.

“It doesn’t concern you, Atsumu,” Kiyoomi responded.

“So you know? Is she okay at least,” the blonde pleads.

“It doesn’t concern you, stop calling me,” is all he gives Atsumu before hanging the call up.

The beeping noise echoes in Atsumu’s head when he realizes there’s one more person he hadn’t checked with.

He gets in his car as fast as he possibly can and races for the Jackal’s practice facility. The place where he saw you for the first time.

When he pulls into the parking lot, he sees a familiar car exit the lot. Your car. He speeds into the building and heads to the Coach’s office.

“Coach!” Atsumu’s disheveled look catches Foster off guard.

“Atsumu? Yes, what is wrong?”

“Why was Y/N here? I just saw her car?” he needs to know, he needs to.

“Did she not tell you?” 

Atsumu’s world stops.

“Y/N resigned,”

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[bendyartistic]

Be aware of alexbstudios.

Over the course of what I believe a few months maybe, Alex has been harassing me with strange behavior and as of recent hurtful remarks too. He's been bothering other people as well from what I've seen. Probably going to say I should've just blocked him, but I wanted to keep an eye on things just in case. Today was the point in time after everything that I realized I should let people know about this kid.

I want to show from the beginning to present time of the interactions he's done with me. And maybe something can be done about getting him off the platform...

Firstly I want to say Alex has admitted to being 12 years old... apparently. I know this from this reblog. This already is a very large red flag. Considering the young age, no a callout doesn't seem right but I still want to warn people regardless since he's still active on the platform.

Though I am uncertain if this is true, he did not confirm nor deny my question about it.

Now lets get to the start of things. I don't like people reposting my art anywhere without credit, surely that can be said for everyone.

Randomly in May Alex reposted my art, no credit, mention of who made it, or where it came from. I should mention Alex had been following me well before this post, so he knew who I was. Rightfully I responded with a request to take it down as I didn't appreciate this.

Upon making this request he made a small complaint about it, which was unneeded. While he did "delete" the post, it still technically there, just edited. Therefore never officially removed like I had asked.

He also uploaded two other drawings I did, but he did not remove those ones.

Not too long ago on a post I made showcasing my Chris model, as it had been a while since I posted it, and I wanted to let people see it.

Alex later said some... questionable things about it. And it really made me uncomfortable to say the least.

For context in my AU, my Chris is 29. This has been stated before a few times.

I want to get to the biggest thing here however, as this is what drove me to make this post. The consistent weird and hateful DM's he has sent me.

I have told Alex to leave me alone on several different occasions and he has refused to do so. Again I know I should've blocked but as I said, just wanted to wait in case. Truth is I don't like blocking people, never have, I feel weird doing it. But anyways Alex made a poll a week ago if I recall correctly of whether or not he should keep or delete his account. The poll won on keep. No sooner did this happen, Alex was in my DM's bothering me about it after I again told him to leave me alone.

The DM's are as followed with context and info:

He responded with something along the lines of "Then my account would become lost media!" to which I only responded "No one really cares."

Next post is where Alex starts to mock me for being slow with my replies. I don't quite understand what speed he expects me to write my replies at, I guess 5 seconds?

So as you have noticed Alex is now making fun of my autism, and it's going to continue in this unfortunately. Bringing up a disability in an argument should not happen. However at some point Alex accused me of creating alts to vote against his poll, I have none.

I'm not sure why me specifically... and I hate how me being "slow" keeps getting brought up. Also racism is somehow brought into this as well.

He spammed me with the same image repeatedly, and it continued for a while. Passing that, he wanted me to run the same poll he did on if I should keep or delete my account. I obviously declined.

He then blocked me after this.

Alex in the past DM'd me, when he made those remarks about my Chris model. I wasn't happy then and I'm still not about it.

I'm still puzzled as to why he calls being blocked as banned. Besides that this comes to the end of the DM ark. Alex has done other things, such as suggest people to draw strange stuff, edited other peoples work, steal other peoples work, and tried to stir up drama at one point.

In conclusion,

Alex is immature. And should not be here, especially this fandom. But in general he should not be online, it is clear he has unlimited access to whatever he wants.

I am sorry to my friends and others who have had to deal with him. That is all I have to say.

Any questions or whatnot is fine. Reblogs are appreciated in order to spread the word.

[aurum-stultus]

This is what I meant by my art getting worse because I used to be an anatomy fucking PRODIGY and now my anatomy looks like someone tried to put an adult rig on a child in Sims 4. This is probably a good example of the worst thing I've drawn in a while but something is urging me to post them anyway.

I'm trying to post generally what makes me happy, I guess. I drew these months ago but never uploaded them to Tumblr bc I felt like Tumblr would eviscerate me for pairing Sevika with a man, let alone Silco. I don't pair them in the main universe. This is the canon AU's Silco and Sevika. I'm also not against lesbian Sevika headcanons. I really don't hate any ships unless they're problematic.

I definitely don't view them as straight, the relationship would just be straight passing. I don't know specifically how to put into words what that means, I'm aro so I don't have many other labels besides that and every time I look for labels to describe them, there's another label out there that describes it better or the label I thought was good ended up having the wrong definition or the label is too descriptive or it's not descriptive enough.

Regardless I just assumed from the Arcane fandom that people will just think I'm trying to purposefully erase a common LGBTQ+ headcanon since this fandom lost its critical thinking skills after season 2. I especially hate "She's OBVIOUSLY a lesbian" comments bc that's not being pro-LGBTQ+, that's actually just re-enforcing gender norms by saying "masc woman = obviously a lesbian."

I headcanon Sevika as pan and then Silco is still a mystery since its impossible for me to find a label for him. Just an unlabeled man in love with his butch wife y'all Idk.

Sometimes I think Sevika's care for Silco in the main canon gets a little suspicious. She's loyal, jumping in front of bombs for Silco, killing Finn instead of Silco even though it's obvious Silco is beginning to waver the same way Vander did, hating Jinx but caring about Silco enough to give him parenting advice (and he listens to her ??), hating Jinx but taking her in and finally accepting her only after Silco dies, and then still mourning Silco's death over half a year after it happen and after finding out he was going to do the same thing Vander did ? That's a lot for your boss whose goals and loyalty have been wavering right in front of you whose only ever treated you like garbage despite your loyalty. Almost like something there isn't entirely for Zaun.

But main universe Silco could not and probably would not ever recipricate that.

AU Silco actually has his shit together, though.

P.S. I wanted to give AU Sevika dreadlocks like she had in her S2 concept art but since I already wasn't proud of this, I struggled to make them look right on a drawing that already looked wrong. Once I get the motivation or energy to draw again I'm still going to try to give her dreads, I went with her default hair from S1 because it's the only thing I'd already drawn prior at the time.

[ladykailitha]

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 3

Hey, darlings! We are back again!! Next week I'll start uploading this on Mondays instead of Tuesdays so that Hellfire can be posted on Fridays so that it doesn't get swamped by the WIP Wednesday overflow. See here for further explanation.

We introduce the kids and Eddie finds out what happened to Steve.

Pt 1 Pt 2

~

Steve could feel a migraine coming on the second he saw Tommy Hagan coming toward him purposefully.

Which meant another parent had complained about him. He fought the urge to take off his glasses and rub the bridge of his nose in frustration.

Steve held up his hand when Tommy got to him and went to open his god damned mouth. “I’m going to stop you before you even get started, Tommy. If Joyce doesn’t give a shit, than neither should you!”

“Beijing was two years ago, Steve,” Tommy huffed angrily. “So what, you hit your head. Get. Over. It.”

“Yeah, I hit my head so hard I blacked out,” Steve snapped back.

Tommy scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I know I was there.”

“Yeah, and you didn’t even fucking medal, Tommy,” he growled. “I nearly drowned. This wasn’t just some little slip in the shower. I hit my head so hard they weren’t sure my vision would come back, asshole. It was traumatic. I don’t know why you can’t understand that!”

Suddenly Carol and Nicole were pulling at Tommy’s arms, muttering soothing words to get him to back down. Tommy glared at him for a moment before he shook the girls off and walked away even more pissed than when he came over.

“Sorry about him,” Nicole said after Carol hurried after him to try and calm him down. “Not all of us think like that.”

Steve just shrugged. He was used to Tommy’s anger about what happened. It was like salt over a wound every time he started up about it. Because, yeah, before all this Tommy and he were friends. Damn good ones, too.

“I think he’s still messed up about the accident,” Nicole muttered. “He feels guilty that he was forced to compete while you were in the hospital. Which lets be honest is probably why he didn’t do well. So if you lay off the medal thing, I’ll try and convince him to drop the pool thing.”

Steve shoulders sagged in defeat. “Yeah, I guess. He started it though.”

She laughed and then shook her head. “Never change, Steve Harrington, the absolute bitch that you are.”

Steve just grinned at her. She shook her head again and walked away. Just as she was leaving Robin came up and put her hand on his shoulder.

“You might have report him to Joyce,” she muttered. “I know you don’t want to, but it looked like he wanted to hit you.”

He chewed on lip and let out a sigh. “If he hits me, I’ll report him then.”

Robin just sighed, she knew it was fight she wasn’t going to win. Steve still had loyalty to Tommy even though they weren’t friends anymore. Well...to be more accurate, he was loyal to a former teammate from his last Olympics.

Hell, there was only one teammate that Steve didn’t owe loyalty to, and he had made it quite clear no one was allowed to even bring that guy up.

“Come on, dingus,” she said instead. “We have the babes class.”

Steve perked up and grinned. The infant and toddler class was his favorite. He loved the squeals of laughter when they learned to love the water as much as he did. He loved the tears of shock and joy when parents saw their little swimming away in the water for the first time.

~

Eddie was gearing up to run for Joyce when he saw Hagan get in Steve’s face.

“Hagan at it again?” Murray sneered.

Eddie turned to look at his supervisor. The older man had his hands shoved in his pockets and was watching the scene with the dull fascination of someone who’s seen this shit go down one too many times.

“I have so many questions,” he admitted, “so I’m not sure I can answer that for you.”

Murray turned his dull attention to Eddie and blinked at him a moment. “How do you not know?”

“I heard Beijing and team,” Eddie said with a shrug, “so I assume it has something to do with the 2008 Olympics. But, man. I’m a poor kid from a trailer park. We don’t always have a TV, you know?”

Murray blinked at him a moment. “Huh. So you really don’t know. Interesting. Very interesting.”

“You going to tell me about it?” Eddie asked in a huff, “Or are you just going to stand there and look smug about knowing something I don’t?”

“At least tell me you know that Steve and Tommy were in the Olympics,” Murray said, rolling his eyes.

“Well I do now!” Eddie huffed. He was getting really irritated with Murray and if he didn’t tell him what was going on, he was going to snatch that stupid looking toupee right off his fucking head.

Murray grabbed his wrist and pulled him with him. Eddie let out a squawk, struggling to keep his feet. He was short little bastard, but apparently he was strong. They stopped in front of a display case and it were several photos, trophies, and certificates.

There smiling in the center picture were Tommy and Steve in swim caps that had their names and the American flag against the dark blue. They looked so happy. Steve was holding up a gold medal and Tommy was holding up a silver. Underneath it read the caption: “Two Hometown Heroes Bring Home Medals”.

“That’s cute.” Eddie tilted his head at the picture. “So what happened in 2012?”

“Steve slipped and fell in his first event,” Murray explained, “hitting his head on the side of the pool.”

“Jesus Christ.”

He did vaguely remember there being talk of an Olympian who got hurt badly and couldn’t compete. But he didn’t know it was Steve.

“Is that why he stays to the kiddie pools?” Eddie asked, feeling numb.

Murray rocked back on his heels. “Uh huh.”

Eddie nodded and then excused himself back to work. His dislike for Tommy grew with each step he took away from that display case.

Whatever guilt he did or did not feel, Tommy still had no right to harass Steve about his fears. That was a shit thing to do, especially since they were supposedly friends before all this.

~

Steve didn’t know why he agreed to this.

He sighed.

Yes he did. It was a favor to Joyce for putting up with all his bullshit. So here he was on a Saturday morning, helping her get ready for her youngest son’s eleventh birthday party. Why they wanted a swim party literally three days before they started the beginners class, he didn’t know. But he was going to try and make the best of it anyway.

He opened up the door that led to the kiddie pool and got out tables to place on the far end of the room away from the water. Joyce came in with balloons and streamers, which Steve helped her put up.

He was helping her carry the last of the food in when he saw it. He stopped dead in his tracks and watched as the new guy, Eddie, doing laps in the pool.

Joyce, who was carrying the cake, stopped next to him. “He’s good, huh?”

Steve shook his head head to clear out the cobwebs. He nodded and followed her back into the kiddie pool room. He mixed the soda and Kool-aid and then went to change. But again he saw Eddie had changed from a regular breaststroke to the butterfly.

His throat dried on the spot, which was a miracle considering that it was fucking humid in the pool area.

God, if he was judging his form, he would have given him an 8.7. It was rough, to be sure, but it was better than Tommy’s and butterfly used to be his specialty. The door to the hallway swung up and Nancy and Jonathan came in with Robin right behind them.

That shook him out of his daze and he trotted to the men’s changing room. He quickly changed and showered before he went back out there. He couldn’t have his heads in the clouds. He was lifeguarding kids today. He needed to focus.

And so he did. It was just like swimming. He cut off the noise in his head. The roar of his thoughts were pushed back, he could deal with them later.

Just then the kids arrived.

Will first, surrounded by his friends, Dustin, Lucas, and Mike, his step-sister Ellie, and her best friend Max.

Six kids in all. Which is why Joyce needed an extra pair of eyes. And three extra arms at this point.

Will stopped in front of the cake in awe. It was shaped like a dolphin, the kid’s favorite animal of the moment. It would probably change next week. But for now, it was perfect.

“Mom!” Will cried. “It’s awesome!”

Joyce gave him a hug. “I’m glad you approve. Now you and your friends go get changed. Robin will be helping the girls and Steve will be watching over the boys. For the duration of this party you will obey them like you obey me, okay? This is really important.”

“Because being around a large body of water is dangerous,” Ellie said solemnly, nodding her head.

Joyce smiled down at her. “That’s right. Now go on. The sooner you get changed, the sooner the party can start!”

The kids turned on their heels and dashed into the changing rooms where Robin and Steve were waiting.

The two girls came out first. Ellie in a purple bathing suit with pink flowers on it and Max in a red and black two piece halter top swim set. Ellie had her hair pulled back in a high pony tail, while Max had braided pigtails.

They each had a cupcake while they waited for the boys.

Soon enough all four boys came barreling out with Steve shouting behind them. “Don’t run or you can’t swim!”

They slowed to a fast walk, so Steve let out a pained sigh as they crowded the food table. Dustin was in a floral Hawaiian print board shorts, Lucas’s were blue with rogange stripes on the side. Mike was wearing red swim trunks, and the birthday boy was was wearing neon green trunks.

They looked new, which meant that Joyce was able to spring for them. Even with two incomes, Joyce and Hopper combined still made less then the assholes they paid to coach their precious darlings. Especially on a cop’s salary.

Eddie came up behind Steve. “What’s going on here?”

Steve nearly jumped out of his skin. “Jeez!”

Eddie cackled. “Sorry, I thought you saw me.”

“It’s Joyce’s son Will’s birthday party,” Steve said, keeping his eyes on the rowdy kids. “She asked Robin and me to watch them. Well...she is paying us for this. But it’s still a favor.”

“Why not Jonathan or Nancy or any of the lifeguards?” Eddie asked, toweling his hair.

Steve took his eye off them for a second to look at him and nearly swallowed his own tongue. He was only in black board shorts. He had two tattoos on his chest, a spider and some demon head. Water slid down the tattoos, past his navel to pool on the top of the shorts. He gulped.

“Because the party runs until noon,” Steve explained once he got his eyes back in his head. “And as it’s a Saturday in the middle of the hottest part of the summer, it’s all hands on deck. And since we trainers don’t have classes on Saturday for that reason...Plus no eleven year old wants his big brother there with his girlfriend. It’s ‘uncool’.” He used air quotes for the last word.

“So you and Robin get the fun of watching little hellions run around like chickens with there heads cut off.”

Steve nodded and turned back to watching the kids. They were screaming and splashing around.

Eddie patted him on the shoulder. “Better you than me, man.” He looked up at the clock. “And that’s my pool time for the week. See you on Monday, Harrington.”

Steve pursed his lips and nodded. Afraid that he was going to blurt out something about Eddie’s swimming.

Shit.

Steve was just going to have to show up with Robin next week for the staff swim. He closed his eyes and then opened them when there was a large splash.

“Hey, no pushing!” he barked.

~

Tag List: CLOSED

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @chameleonhair @sadisticaltarts @dreamercec @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mac-attack19

10- @aol19 @eriquin @tartarusknight @gloomysoup

[crustyfloor]

brainvomit I can go on and on about the apparent hints we're getting in merch and subtext that allude to a Till revival but it grates on my nerves that it could easily be disproven in several ways, so I can never be certain, but honestly.. I'm quite confident in a Till revival. And I'm coming to expect it to some degree (In part because it's been months since there's been a proper update on him, otherwise his post-mortem comic would've been uploaded ages ago and that would be that,, but since it's seemingly being held off it leads me to think that it's an intentional decision because there is more content with him and his perspective to come, probably in later episodes)

from a writer's perspective, it feels like the logical next step. On the other hand, he might be really dead. It can happen, hell, it probably will happen because it's already clear that the chances of him living or staying dead are so situational, depending on where this story is going it might be right for him to just stay dead, (and that much in regards to the plot I can't really guess with much confidence either). I'm already so unsure how Vivinos plans to juggle all this worldbuilding and development within one or possibly two new episodes, I trust her ability, and so far she hasn't disappointed me, even when she's left me confused and upset for some time- and Vivinos is always introducing surprise plot twists to the story when I least expect it so now I'm not surprised that Till was shot anymore (aside from the agony and dread of actually seeing it) losing to Luka served it's own purpose, and I wouldn't be surprised if she brought him back

Even if revival is a very bold decision for a character, I wouldn't say it's as completely out of the realm of possibility as some may think, and it wouldn't be "impossible" to do. Alnst still has sci-fi themes. If aliens can exist, then many other things are on the table. That's why I like the robot/alive Sua theories so much. (and even though I wouldn't lean too much on realistic facts that would apply to our world to a fictional setting where plot armor exists, they're also still within the reasonable time frame to resuscitate Till, time isn't moving that slowly between the episodes Blink gone and Wiege so it's not too ridiculous if they're fast enough they can save him)

Sometimes I feel like I'm riding too close to the sun with the absurdity of insisting that Till could revive while his dead body is right there but I don't feel like we would be exploring the full scope of his character if his development ended here, yeah it's already been made somewhat cleared up that he wasn't as indifferent to Ivan's presence as we would have assumed given Ivan's view of him, but that's still pretty up in the air, we have a lot of assumptions about his character and his perspective but ultimately a lot of questions about him are still unanswered and up in the air, and personally, I'd deeply hate leaving this series not knowing as much about him as I could've, sure you could say that's simply his narrative, sure you could say death naturally comes when you least expect it to, that's just the way life is and I would accept that narrative if it came to it and Vivinos executed it in a way that made sense but ehg, it's just cliche to me and I believe there are better ways to handle his character

Whats irks me the most is that if this is where it ends for him, he's dead and there's no elaboration that kind of storytelling would only validate Ivan's narrative, the most we know about Till in regards to his perspective is through Ivan's eyes, to accept that Till's character and his relationship with Ivan is simply built on unrequited feelings and indifference to Ivan is just assuming that what Ivan says is the truth and not his skewed perspective like we know it is. But if there's no way to make that obvious this narrative would only do everything wrong... 1) validate Ivan's perspective 2) It leaves everything about Till's perspective majorly up to interpretation without some solid ground, aside from the fandoms already here and there takes that just wouldn't be good writing (?) there's really a difference in leaving mystery and interpretations to the hand of the viewer and just not answering valid questions, and not leaving any solid content to work with and interpret in the first place, whether this direction is meant to be either or I wouldn't be fully satisfied with it anyway . We see Ivan's impact on Till in Blink gone in the emotional turmoil Till goes through, it shows enough that, as opposed to what Ivan thinks, Till cared about him, but really, what do we know?

That's my biggest gripe; I don't want Till's story to end on such an abrupt and sour note that doesn't truly serve him as a character. I believe this could all be resolved in comics and side content, too. But the reason why I bring this up here is that one of the most reuccuring themes of Alnst is exploring the perspective of the ones who must live on after their loved ones die impactful, painful, unforgettable deaths, it's a present theme to show how the characters (Mizi, Luka) progress after it, it's about showcasing endurance and the human spirit. Characters shouldn't just die for the sake of it, without contributing to this and showing it, and Till hasn't yet shown it (It'd make sense if they wanted to show this in his death too, but I'd question what groundwork we were really meant to be laying here.. and I'd hope it'd done right at least)

In the case that the story shifts in a way that supports this to it's full potential (ie. not killing off everyone and blowing up the stage), reviving Till and allowing him the means to process his thoughts on Ivan and his death and what he did and what that means to him enough to put it into words would be great for his character, it's probably overgenerous for how little time we might have but I'm realllyyyy hanging onto hope here that the story will even shift to open up for this chance in the first place. If Vivinos doesn't plan to do either of these things to further Till's growth as a character visibly, then his death is rendered pointless and dismissive, and I'm not serious about that wording

because his death isn't inherently useless, none of the deaths are, and his death serves a purpose regardless. It's most likely being used to bring about Mizi's new turning point in her character development, yes blink gone is one of the many sequences of events in furthering Mizi's story first and foremost, Till's downfall signifies a new turning point in the story, still it doesn't mean he has to remain in that role to move the story along (unless vivinos would like to express that all hope is lost now and she's going to blow up the remaining characters, given Till was practically standing as a hope that things would change), if Vivinos has any interest in not making him look like a sacrifice and tool as a character for the sake of Mizi's growth after experiencing more loss, and not making his character completely reliant on Ivan's unreliable perspective (Because Cure is mostly Ivan-centric and that's the most we get of their dynamic together), She can bring him back, it can still have emotional relevance without being forced or random. And if done right, it wouldn't even erase the impact his death left on Mizi

(And I do worry about that, because revival in alien stage ideally shouldn't take back any of the tension or attention from the current events because otherwise that would be poor writing too, while I'm writing this I realize this story is really put in a tough spot because everything could go all sorts of bad ways) but it's not like if Till were to come back it'd erase the irreversible mental scar his death reopened within Mizi and be one of the driving forces on her mind come whatever she may do next (But what about the moment of hope in Blink Gone that represented Till's naive feelings for Mizi that overrid all sense of rationality and made him run to grab her hand? reviving him wouldn't rewrite that dread either... if anything, the impact of a near-death experience would also be fascinating to write on a character like himself with all the developments he's had so far)

On another note, I'm sure there are characters that may have better reasons to come back to the story, namely HyunA, but I believe what distinguishes Till from her is the possibility that bringing her back would be redundant, the possibility that it would actually remove the impact she intended her death to have on Luka. Her words would be for nothing if Luka doesn't realize this is for real, and he'll have to live with that truth and these new realizations. Everything contributes to that one message. HyunA serves us the "Live through the pain, forgive yourself, you live on" narrative right there.. So naturally, the best way I can see this being formatted is allowing us to continue to explore the perspective of Post round-1 Mizi, Luka, and Till after losing Sua, HyunA, and Ivan perhaps even going HyunA's route and finding a home within the rebellion to allow them to grow and grieve and introspect... #hopefulstage

HyunA is the catalyst for Luka's development, and it turns around to benefit both of their characters. Ivan is the catalyst for Till's development, and in turn, growth from Till would also contribute to Ivan's character . Allowing Till to live on would be a satisfying way to execute this narrative (But of course, this all goes out the window if like I said before Vivinos plans for this story to take a different direction, all I'm saying is that if the plot allows it I don't want Vivinos to miss the opportunity to expand on Till's character this way, if not in other forms that confirm he's dead). Till is my favorite character, so I'm aware I have bias and I'm indulging my delusions, but the way I see it, there's nobody who can resolve this better than Till can, there's nobody who can elaborate on his and Ivan's story better than he can, because Mizi was their friend, but nowhere near as emotionally close to them as they were to each other, she loves them but she only knows so much about them as people and just "her friends" so it's a tough spot, and Luka doesn't know them at all. Till is resilient, always coming back from the brink, and has always been fighting for agency and freedom. In that way, he parallels HyunA a lot. And I have a soft spot for both of them that wants to see them flourish and grow, and heal. If it's allowed, I want him to have that, I want him to have the space to grow with as much time as we have left, and I want him to have a fair and well-written wrap-up otherwise, I don't know I'll probably change this opinion a little bit later down the line and I still have too many questions on what the helllll is about to go on with this story to write anything sensical but if he's alive awesome if he's dead okay i'd just strongly prefer the former if it suits the overall narrative and I want it to make sense and not feel like he's been written off (and worse, I don't want his character to be perceived as shallow because of wherever vivinos chooses to direct his arc next)

all this to say I really want his perspective or any indication of anything about his current status hepl

[danwhobrowses]

One Piece Chapter 1153 - Initial Thoughts

It's uploaded late in the evening but I have time before I go to bed

One Piece is back and we've begun the flashback of Harald, within the flashback of Loki killing Harald So how far will we go with Harald before his death? Will we vindicate Loki? Only time will tell

What do we have this time?

Spoilers for the Chapter, Support the Official Release too

Next on Yamato's visiting list is Kiku, the new Daimyo of Ringo

I've been seeing photos of an Imu plush and now Oda's referencing it in his author's notes XD

We begin with seeing kid Dorry and Brogy having fun with kid Harald, Dorry has a bump on his head and Harald a bandage on his elbow so I'd guess that he and Harald roughhoused a lot

As hinted last chapter, Harald grew up as an arrogant prince due to his size, bloodline to ancient giants, monstrous strength and high status, and the fact that nobody would stand up to him

Man literally killed a shark by flicking snot away, while lamenting that everything outside of Elbaf is weak and puny

His fellow giants are yes men too so he's not gonna get any challenged opinion

We go to the Kingdom of Bunt, which I'm sure we've seen before, wiki says no though

Name is likely referencing Bundt cake

Also I'm sorry but you can't say 'come one, come all' and not have me hum Festival of Fools from Disney's Hunchback of Notre Dame

A circus announces the attraction of Ida, a giant of Elbaf

She's announced as 10m tall (about 30ft), her steps are like earthquakes and her roar is like thunder

Behind bars, Ida roars at the scared onlookers

Harald sees this from his telescope, furious about turning a giant into a roadside attraction

We see the ship depart, leaving the circus smoking

Harald introduces himself to Ida, and gets SMACKED

Oh that is the face of a man who just got boy'd XD

Ida demands that Harald go back, to apologize for hurting people

He refuses, calling it a puny doll kingdom, and gets beaten up again

Ah it seems it was circus deception, Ida wasn't a prisoner but a willing participant in the attraction, and loyal to the circus for finding her near-dead and helping her recover

She passionately reprimands Harald for thinking himself above others for being born big, citing the thinking as why people think all giants are 'Elbaf savages'

It seems that this has gotten Harald thinking, as he demands his crew to aid Ida in restoring the city

It seems Ida and Harald discuss the differences in culture, such as architecture, cuisine and textiles

You even see the king bow his head to the Bunt king

Ah once children start climbing on you it's over, and like that the giants are partying with Bunt

All while Ida suggests that 'destruction of anything in this world is a waste'

Contrary to her introduction, Ida is from an island in the South Blue called Samuwanai (or 'Not Chilly' Island)

Interesting how Harald asks if she climbed the Blood-Soaked Serpent, which they call the Red Line, it's extra interesting given the mural, plus Ida says she can't go back

With Ida it seems Harald has become whipped softer, growing curious about people, all the while Ida suggests she judged Elbaf too harshly

105 years ago, Harald begins his diplomacy movement, insisting they atone for their sins

He decides to frequently travel overseas, to aid and learn the culture of their neighbours

Fellow giants note that Dorry and Brogy would never stop running wild, but as someone who grew up with them, Harald notes that they've always treated humans with honour and respect

Wonder if that will come back up given what's going on now?

He's asked about whether they can keep their warrior ways, and it's not a flat no, instead it's simply a 'we may have to reconsider some traditions if other countries feel threatened'

Jarul and Jorul seem intrigued by the change, albeit Jarul's expression is far more reserved

Harald suggests exchanging diplomats, like ambassadors, having to explain to his crew that it's not like 'a fancy hostage deal'

81 years ago, Hajrudin is born

Man the silhouetted greybeards didn't even wait for Harald to finish before refusing to legitimize his and Ida's marriage, due to pure blood rules

Ida is strangely understanding of the cultural differences, having to live in a nearby village

Mother of Loki is a chosen bride called Estrid

Born to Alcohol village - huh, strange given Kaido was from Vodka kingdom isn't it? - she has the Greybeards' approval as from a family of higher standing, and more pretty-looking than Ida on the outside at least

She seems to have mystic beliefs, saying she's a student of the 'Earth-Wind arts'

She believes herself fated to love him for the rest of her life, even asking that he forget Ida and his 'bastard'

Spiritual she may be, but Estrid is also very demanding; citing that the energies are wrong in the room, the king's spirit is leaking, and removes a mirror because it's positioned wrong

I'd say it's all hoodoo but given how we've got demon circles going on right now we can't rule out that she might've been onto something

She also gifts the fabled horse that'll die, Asura the horse of good fortune - a gift from Estrid's family

Oh oh I know why it has eight legs! Another Norse Myth fact we haven't had in a while: Asura is a reference to Sleipnir, Odin's 8-legged horse and child of Loki. Yes Loki turned into a horse to have a horse child, but not only that, Loki turned into a mare and gave birth to a horse child

As for why, it's another case of Norse gods being assholes; an unnamed builder - a disguised jotunn - was commissioned to build a great wall within 3 seasons to keep out invaders, in exchange he will get Freyja, the sun and the moon as payment, so long as he complete the work within the time limit with the help of no man. He is however allowed his stallion, Svaoilfari, who Loki convinces the gods to let him use since it is not a man. However, Svaoilfari is twice as effective as the builder and can thus haul massive rocks to make massive progress. Come 3 days before the deadline, the builder was close to finishing, the gods decide it was Loki's fault for this so Loki must get them out of this bargain

Threatened with a horrible death, Loki transformed into a mare to delay Svaoilfari and construction. Once the builder is outed as a giant though, the Aesir call Thor who kills the builder, voiding their agreements. Loki gives birth to a grey foal with eight legs, the best horse among gods and men, which of course like with all of Loki's children, the Aesir put to work

Back to the chapter, Estrid's demands continue, all jewels and gold go to her room, the King should focus on the 'energies of Earth and Wind', but they both get to eat on Silver Platters

This one I feel is more like taking liberties and wanting to live the high life

Circa 70 years ago, Oda seems to specify that this age begot rough seas to make travel difficult, likely because Elbaf's navigation would be used and spread across communities, as Harald shows a ship a compass and tells them about the Pole star

Harald returns to Elbaf to tell giants - and a bear and squirrel - about Fishmen, having seen mermaids, the birth of Neptune and sea kings coming together in jubilation

63 years ago Loki is born

Estrid claims that they already planned the name of Loki, and wishes to see her son

Oh so that's what Loki's eyes look like

Demonic slit eyes terrifies Estrid, claiming that it couldn't be hers

She tells her midwives to tell Harald it was a stillbirth, calling Loki cursed and a monster

The narration turns sad, as Oda heartbreakingly details how Loki as a baby reached out for anyone, only to be rejected by their mother

WHILE ESTRID IS SHOWN THROWING HIM DOWN TO THE LAND OF THE DEAD

I know we get dark in One Piece but jfc Oda...

Estrid demands that nobody acknowledges Loki's birth

She also hastily packs claiming to never want to give birth, intending to return to her village with all those treasures

Something however stirs in the Realm of the Dead

Well, that's just a punch in the gut

A tearful, freezing and bleeding baby Loki climbs the world tree, still looking for their mother

The shock collapses Estrid into poor health

Estrid demands Loki be disposed of, claiming that it was foretold that Harald would be slain by his own son

Lies or Truth? I would lean at the former

All the while Harald wasn't present for this, he was blocked by the World Government in another diplomacy mission

Ida talks to kid Hajrudin about meeting his little brother, which Hajrudin rejects since Loki's not Ida's son

Ida however showers him with love despite noting that he's saying awful things

A silhouetted Loki stands as the narration talks about this being Loki's curse

And we won't know more next week because of a break

Man, Oda went hard this chapter

I still don't think Loki will be a crewmate but goddamn is he a tragic character. Make no mistake, he's probably also gonna be a little shit, much like Norse Myth Loki, but it looks like Oda's gonna frame it as him simply acting on other's expectations, or lashing out of jealousy for never having his mother's love. Hajrudin's initial rejection is childish but understandable as a child, given his memory of Loki beating him and talking foul of Ida I doubt Loki's gonna be nice to her - at least not in public - but I guess both brothers will have their flaws.

As for Harald's story with Ida, it was very well done. Kinda quick mind you, a mix of Kyros and Kuma's backstory really with how love made them more curious and benevolent, it was nice, though Estrid up until giving birth to Loki didn't seem all that awful...until giving birth to Loki when she's immediately irredeemable. Even if she does have prophetic powers - remains to be seen because this is the first we've heard of 'earth-wind' stuff - throwing your baby to death is kinda a big fucking no. It looks like Harald might've joined the WG in order to stop them blocking his diplomatic pursuits too, but it doesn't offer much in explaining his death, yet at least since we're only 2 chapters into this flashback. This being said, as much as he probably didn't love Estrid (and if I was Ida I'd probably be livid about the idea that Harald had to take another wife and sire a child with them) he probably could've been present for Loki's birth, I guess things would've gone differently if he were.

But still, brutal from Oda, and he doesn't tend to start with the most tragic part, there may be more to come

[anjels001]

Chapter 3: The Kind of Problem You Don’t Find in School (Part 1)

Author’s Note:

I posted this chapter a little earlier than planned, but the same deal from the last one still applies!

If this story reaches 20 reposts, I’ll create an AO3 specifically for it and start uploading there too.

And hey — if we hit 200 likes, I’ll drop the next chapter today!Huge thanks to all the new followers and the amazing messages — you’re all awesome!

My inbox is open for questions, comments about the story, or just to chat.I’m also open for writing and art commissions, so feel free to send me a message!

See you in the next chapter!

----(>ú<)-----

Look, I didn’t want to be special.

If you're reading this because you think you might be... well, maybe it’s better to put the book down now. Trust me. Believe whatever your parents told you about your birth, keep living as if nothing is real — and, if you can, stay away from saltwater.

Being special is dangerous.

It’s confusing, terrifying... and a great way to end up alone, hurt, or worse.

If you’re a normal kid, reading this thinking it’s fiction, great. Enjoy it while you can. I envy you. But if, somewhere deep inside, you feel something... a weird vibration, an unexplained chill, a voice whispering your name in the middle of silence — stop. Right now.

Because it might be that you’re like me.

And, in that case... well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

My name is Perseus Telis Jackson. But everyone calls me Percy — except my mom, who only uses my full name when she wants me to do the dishes or when I'm in trouble.

I’m twelve years old, with some pretty ugly scars on my face, and dreams that give me dark circles that would make a sleepless panda jealous.

The scars are three, all on the right side of my face, going from my temple to my chin. I’ve had them since I was three, and they’re the ones that caused the biggest mess in my life.

A lot of people thought the culprit was my ex-stepdad, Old Smelly Gabe, and he ended up getting arrested. Seriously, I don’t miss him. Like, at all.

My mom never told me what really happened that night. She just said she found me covered in salt and sand, sleeping on the ground as if nothing had happened, but with my eyes still full of fear. I don’t remember anything. All I know is, since then, sleep has never been peaceful.

Almost every night, I dream of things that don’t make sense. Gigantic waves, voices whispering in languages I don’t understand, creatures with eyes that glow like headlights in the dark depths of some place that feels... way too familiar.

If that sounds weird, maybe it is. But for me, it’s routine

It’s not like I had a “how to be a normal kid” manual anyway.

At school, they say I’m too mature for my age. The truth is, when you grow up with the kind of silence that only bad dreams leave, you end up learning to keep a lot to yourself.

And, well... if I knew where all of this would lead, maybe I would have done things differently.

Maybe I would have pretended nothing was real, that the scars didn’t matter, that the dreams were just dreams.

Because the truth is, all of this — the scars, the nightmares, even my name — is just the beginning.

You must be wondering why all this? The introduction? The warnings and all that?

Well, it all started a few months ago. I was a student at Yancy Academy — a fancy, half-prison-like boarding school up in northern New York. It’s the kind of private school where they send kids that adults aren’t quite sure how to handle. And yes, that includes people like me.

Am I a troublemaker? Yeah... I guess you could say that.

Not that I go around beating up classmates or setting fire to lockers — well, at least not on purpose. But problems seem to follow me. Or maybe I follow them. Anyway, the fact is: my file at Yancy’s office is almost as thick as a Latin dictionary. And I’ve only been there for a year.

I could start this story from several strange and confusing moments in my life, but the truth is, things really started going wrong in the last month of May. That’s when my sixth-grade class went on a field trip to Manhattan — twenty-eight hyperactive kids (and two or three sociopaths) crammed into a yellow school bus, along with two teachers who looked visibly regretful.

The destination? The Metropolitan Museum of Art. The objective? To observe “cultural relics” from ancient Greece and Rome.

Yeah, I know. It sounds like punishment. And, honestly? Most of the time, Yancy's field trips were just that: punishment disguised as an educational outing. But this time, I had a tiny bit of hope.

Because the one guiding the tour was Mr. Brunner — our teacher, and he was... different. He had thinning hair at the temples, a scruffy beard that always seemed on the verge of giving up, and wore a tweed jacket so old it must have witnessed more intense battles than most of us. And he always — always — smelled like coffee. That strong, bitter scent, like the man himself was made of old books and sleepless nights.

At first glance, you'd probably mistake him for some retired librarian or a historian who got lost on the way home. But there was something about him — the way he spoke, as if he measured every word carefully, and the sharp look behind his glasses — that made you feel like he knew more than he should.

He was our Latin teacher, but his lessons went far beyond declensions and dead verbs. He told stories, made bad jokes, and let us ask weird questions without losing his patience. Sometimes, it even seemed like he enjoyed it when someone brought up a topic off the syllabus, like "dragons in Greek mythology" or "how the gods would dress today."

And the coolest part? Mr. Brunner had an entire collection of Roman weapons and armor. Real stuff. Swords, shields, helmets... all hanging on the walls of the classroom or piled up on shelves with handwritten labels. Sometimes, he'd bring in a different item to show the class, and at those moments, the room would go silent, almost magically. It was the only class where no one — not even me — would fall asleep.

Of course, sometimes I’d catch him watching me when no one was looking, like he recognized something about me, but all of that would make sense later. But, that day, all I knew was that Mr. Brunner was the only adult in the school who didn’t look at me like I was a ticking time bomb ready to explode.

I was hoping everything would go smoothly on the trip. At least I hoped I wouldn't get into trouble this time.

Man, was I wrong.

Actually, I tried — really tried — to be a good student. I did my homework, studied for tests, and when I didn’t forget because of my ADHD, I even turned in my assignments on time. My teachers knew this, but... things always went wrong.

Like, have you ever heard of someone having bad luck? Now imagine someone with an invisible magnet stuck to their forehead, attracting embarrassing and unfair situations like it’s some kind of superpower.

That’s me.

If someone threw an eraser at the teacher, I was the one who got blamed. If the fire alarm went off for no reason? Somehow, it was my fault too. I don’t even want to remember the day a rat showed up in math class. (Spoiler: I was in fencing club at that time.)

Yeah, fencing club. I participated. I wasn’t the best or the most disciplined, but I was quick, and the instructor said I had reflexes as sharp as a cat’s. He just forgot to mention that, sometimes, my brain didn’t tell my feet in time. Still, it was the only extracurricular activity where I didn’t feel completely out of place.

Even so, no effort seemed good enough. There was always something that went wrong — as if the universe thought it was funny to put me in situations where everything went wrong in the most spectacular way possible.

And that was just this year at Yancy.

Understand this: bad things just happen to me on school trips. Always.

In fifth grade, for example, we took a trip to the Saratoga battlefield. There was a cannon from the American Revolution there, all surrounded and with a thousand “DO NOT TOUCH” signs. I swear on everything sacred: I didn’t touch it. But somehow, the cannon turned, fell, and almost hit our bus. The result? Expelled from school.

In fourth grade, we went to visit Marine World — you know, the behind-the-scenes tour of the shark tank. I don’t know how — seriously, I have no idea — but I triggered a lever that kids weren’t even supposed to be near and... well, the whole class got a salty shower while the sharks got a live screaming show.

Before that? Better not even get into the details. You get the pattern by now, right?

So, on this particular trip to Manhattan, I was determined to break the curse. No historical disasters, no mysterious buttons, zero messes. I was going to be good, stick to the plan, stay invisible. Easy.

Then came Nancy Bobofit.

She was that annoying student — red-haired, freckled, with a supernatural talent for getting on everyone’s nerves, including plants. And for some cosmic reason, she’d picked Grover as her favorite target.

Grover was an easy target. Skinny, awkward, shy. He cried when he got frustrated. He was the only sixth grader with acne and a patchy little beard coming in on his chin, which made everyone think he’d been held back like three times. He also had a doctor’s note excusing him from PE — something about a muscular condition in his legs. He walked kind of funny, like every step hurt. But don’t be fooled — you should’ve seen how fast he moved when it was enchilada day in the cafeteria.

Despite all that — or maybe because of it — Grover was brave. In a quiet, almost invisible way. Always trying to see the bright side, even when he was shaking in his sneakers. He was the kind of person you wouldn’t expect much from, but when everything went wrong, he’d be right there next to you. We’d been friends for just over a year, and ever since, it was like he just knew when I was feeling off. Like a connection from another life.

But at that moment, on the bus, Grover just hunched his shoulders and tried to pretend that the chunks of peanut butter and ketchup sandwich Nancy was throwing into his curly hair weren’t bothering him. But I saw his ears trembling. I saw that and thought: “Hold it, Percy. Don’t screw this up now.”

Because, of course, I couldn’t do anything. I was already being watched. The principal had threatened me with an in-school suspension — which, honestly, is worse than a regular suspension. It means you have to come to school but can’t go to class. You just sit in a room all day doing stupid assignments. If anything bad, embarrassing, or even mildly fun happened... I’d be toast.

And there was Nancy, acting like the queen of comedy, tossing sandwiches at Grover while I counted to ten. Twice.

(Spoiler: it went bad. Really bad.)

---- < Back: Chapter 2 > Next: Chapter 3: (Part 2)

[celestedoesarttm]

I just realized I’ve never posted any of my TMA art!! How silly of me!!!

GIF of Michael Shelley I made for @viktriquest :) here’s a link to the video version for better eye strain color quality!! Pandora’s palace blasts on repeat in the hallways i don’t take criticism on this

Helen Richardson doodle from a while back. You can tell that I am a Will Wood fan when I make TMA fanart. I am at peace with this fact

Assorted S4 doodles!! Fun fact i still have not finished S4. I’m vaguely spoiled for the rest of the series, and I’m trying to avoid stuff for TMAGP (i am losing at this) so 👍 Martin’s just gonna be stuck in Fog Place until i sit down and listen to it again i guess

S1 Jon Bone Apple Teeth GIF :) every time i see it i double-take because he just looks Bad and Naked without his scars

Jonathan Sims x Cicada Days by Will Wood!! I’m actually very VERY fond of this one it’s so beautiful and it’s currently my home screen

(This stuff is all from a couple of months ago, maybe I’ll take photos of my latest TMA stuff soon but for now I’m just gonna upload these)

Compulsory @missholloween tag because fellow TMA Mutual????? 👀

[redroomreflections]

The Ghost in The Window Chapter 2

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: As a former child star and one-half of one of Hollywood's most powerful couples, you’re no stranger to the dangers of the spotlight. Life has just begun to settle for you as you navigate motherhood, marriage, and your career. When a fan-turned-stalker gets a bit too close for comfort, everything is turned upside down

Note: Uploading the WIPs too.

W/c: 5.9k

chapter 1

You awoke to the sound of a baby crying and crackling from the baby monitor on your nightstand. You adjusted your position in bed, lying on your side, peeking one eye open to view the screen. For just a few seconds you were hoping that Grace would fall asleep again. Of course, that would be too easy and to no surprise, she’s awake in her crib. You reach out a hand to feel for your phone, finding it under the bundle of blankets, to see it’s only six in the morning. You guess your day would be starting now. It doesn’t take you long to rush to the bathroom to relieve yourself and then make your way to the nursery. You stop at Rose’s bedroom to see her lying peacefully amongst a mountain of stuffed animals in her bed. You close her bedroom door again and leave her to sleep. At least one of you is getting that luxury.

You have Carla on standby when needed but you’d instead do all of this on your own. In the months between work, there’s always something to do. Motherhood was just one of them. It’s your favorite part and though it gets lonely without Natasha here you know she’s never too far away. You step into Grace’s bedroom, tapping the light switch to flood the room, while you grab her from her crib. She’s cuddly this morning as she lies her head on your shoulder.

“First, we get a diaper change, and then Mommy needs her coffee,” You narrate the entire day to Grace. You lie her atop the changing table, one you rarely use, as you quickly get her all cleaned up. “I know that was uncomfortable. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.” Her whining dies down to slight sniffles as she looks up at you. She’s enamored by you and your speaking voice. She grabs onto one of the pacifiers lying near her head to press it into her mouth.

Once that’s settled you head down to the first floor where you find Mocha waiting at the kitchen doors to be let out. You unlock the french doors with one and open it wide enough for the Mocha to go and relieve himself.

Next, you try to put Grace in her high chair to free up your hands but she’s having none of it. Her cries of protest are heard, so you keep her on your hip as you prepare a coffee. Using a Keurig is an easy enough process, and you use it efficiently. Grace watches you for a little longer before deciding she’s ready for her breakfast. She tugs at the material of your tank top with chubby hands, hoping to free one of your breasts.

“Mommy’s trying to hurry,” You say. While you wait for the coffee to finish, you go onto the patio to place your planner and phone on the table. You’re honestly doing a lot for a relaxing morning at home. When the coffee’s done, you take extra care to keep it out of arm's reach of Grace. You sit in a cozy spot where you can see the view of Los Angeles from your backyard. The sun had only risen an hour ago and was already shining brightly. It’s a peaceful morning if you do say so yourself. You position Grace in your arms, shifting your tank top up, and wait for her to latch on. Her suckling is steady and strong. She’ll be occupied for the next twenty minutes. You crack open your planner, eyeing the next week's dates as you go over your schedule. You have an outfit fitting and a photo shoot tomorrow, a brunch with friends in two days, and a party that you’re throwing in a couple of nights.

It’s an end-of-summer party that you host annually. Friends and family all get together to celebrate various accomplishments and goals they’ve tackled throughout the summer. You’re honestly just ready for the fun to begin. You spend several months of the year working your ass off and you deserve to celebrate. You open up a notes page on your phone to go through the checklist you’ve been keeping for the past week. You’re having the party here at home so the guest list isn’t too big. Your house is big enough to fit about sixty people. Anything more and it would be bursting at the seams. There’s no real theme. However, you’re bound to call it a summer splash party or something. The invitations have been sent and RSVPs are coming back by the buckets. There’s also catering and a personal chef coming to bring food. When you said a small party you might be lying. This thing may turn out to be something more than you imagined it would be. Those usually turned out to be more fun.

You’re finishing up with your checklist just in time to switch Grace to your other breast. She’s content and happy as she fills her tummy. The next few minutes are spent in silence as you sip your coffee. You should think about breakfast. Natasha is coming home today and you wonder if she would enjoy something homemade or a restaurant meal. Rose loves IHOP and you’re sure neither of them would protest going to the family chain.

Speaking of Rose, the princess is awake, and a tad bit grumpy as she opens the patio doors to come and greet you. She curls into your side, her head on your arm, as she grumbles.

“Oh, is someone grumpy today?” You ask and she nods her head. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Mama’s not here yet,” Rose frowns and you know the feeling. Life is always so much better with Natasha there. You brush her coils out of her face, her bonnet must have fallen off sometime in the night, to see her eyes. She pouts up at you and gets a little annoyed when you smile.

“You’re in luck,” You tell her. “We are going to pick Mama up from the airport in about an hour. I was going to go on my own but you’re awake so you can go too.” You offer and Rose smiles.

“Can we get her flowers?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” You say. “We can pick them up on the way there.”

It was settled. You would be getting Natasha flowers, picking her up from the airport, and then hopefully breakfast. In that order.

**************************

There’s only one small teeny tiny detail you forgot when it comes to airport runs to LAX. Don’t do them. It’s a confusing and congested airport with twists and turns you never believe. The traffic is always out of this world and you develop road rage at the mere idea of it. Times like now you forget you’re in a place of privilege where you could have utilized a driver to fetch Natasha. It sounds fancy but it’s useful. Though it’s too late now. You park the car in one of the visiting parking garages. You’re sure the paparazzi are somewhere inside waiting for Natasha or some other celebrity to make an appearance as they’re always conveniently waiting for you there. Despite the various rumors from many different sources, you don’t call the paparazzi on yourself. You think it’s inauthentic and a bit dumb. It’s a complete lack of privacy that you’re not willing to participate in. Especially when the kids are involved. Grace has been left at home with Carla while you’ve made an event of your time with Rose. She enjoys being the star of the show anyway.

You help Rose out of the car, holding onto her hand tightly as you grab the bouquet of rainbow roses in the other hand. The walk to the baggage claim isn’t too far. Rose’s little legs struggle to keep up but she doesn’t complain one bit. You receive a text from Natasha letting you know she landed. You send her your love and a reply that you’re here waiting for her. You wait in a corner together where no one will bother you. You push the sunglasses you’re sporting further up your nose as you watch Rose play a game of pretend hopscotch in front of you. She’s wearing matching sunglasses that you think are utterly adorable on her. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see someone trying to sneakily record. When you look in their direction their device is put away. You offer them a small smile though you would like to do anything but. Perks of the job you guess.

“Rosie, look,” You instruct the four-year-old when you catch a glimpse of Natasha further down. Rose’s head shoots up, unable to see from her vantage point, and so she comes to stand next to you again. You point, handing her the roses to take Natasha. Rose’s entire face lights up when she catches sight of her. Natasha waves and smiles widely when she spots you. She opens her arms wide and kneels to catch Rose when she runs to her. They’re wrapped together in a tight embrace for a few more seconds. Natasha takes Rose in her arms, transferring her to her hip so that she can come over and hug you. It feels good to have her in your embrace. She looks good and smells expensive. It’s a funny thought but everything about her makes you happy.

“Hi,” Natasha greets you with a peck to your lips. “How are you?”

“Good. Everything’s fine,” You smile.

“Mama, we got you flowers see,” Rose holds up the bouquet so that it’s directly in Natasha’s view.

“I see,” Natasha takes the flowers. “I love them so much. Thank you for thinking of me.”

“You’re welcome,” Rose looks around. “Can we go get food now? My tummy is rumbling a lot.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Natasha reaches behind her for her bags. It’s only a few suitcases so you help with the other ones. You walk side by side towards the parking garage. “Hey, Rosie, put your sunglasses down,” Natasha instructs and she does as told. Upon exiting the airport, you’re met with the flashing lights of the paparazzi cameras. Leave it to you to forget to ask for your bodyguard to tag along. Sometimes you conveniently forget that you’re a well-known person and that privacy is a luxury. Natasha holds Rose closer to her as she follows you to the car. Rose goes in first, Natasha helping her with her seat buckles, while you toss the bags into the truck. Overall you’re able to ignore the badgering and borderline inappropriate questions. You climb into the driver’s seat and take extra care to pull out of the parking spot.

“I don’t like those men,” Rose says from the backseat. “They’re always yelling and they are not nice people at all. Right Mama?” She looks for Natasha’s approval.

“That’s right they’re not nice people,” Natasha agrees. “Now do you want to eat at home and get delivery or do you want to go to our favorite restaurant? It’s up to you.”

“IHOP!” Rose cheers. It won’t take you long to get to your destination. If you didn’t count an hour as long. For LA traffic it truly isn’t a long time. You and Natasha have considered moving back to her hometown of Cincinnati. It would be much quieter and way easier to live in. It’s something you’ve thought more about in recent months. No, you’re not ready to give up your career and the perks that come with it. Though you’re always thinking of the girls' safety and happiness too. Rose’s school is here. Her friends, your friends, and your community is here. It would be a big change. A change you’re simply not ready for yet. As much as Natasha wants to leave, you don’t think she’s ready for it yet either.

IHOP is pretty deserted at this time of day. It’s a weekday and everyone would either be working or had something better to do. This was a great opportunity for you to have a family day out. Rose couldn’t contain her excitement as she hops out of the car to hold Natasha’s hand. She practically drags the redhead into the building of the place you frequent. Though there are places with finer dining that is maybe more expensive that you can’t deny her the simplicity that is IHOP.

When you reach the entrance you’re met with a semi-familiar face. You can’t pinpoint it right away but when she introduces herself you understand now.

“Hi, for three,” Natasha requests and she nods. You follow the young girl to a corner of the restaurant where an open booth is. Rose takes the inner area and Natasha slides in after her. You take the other side, crossing your legs, before narrowing your eyes.

“Have we met somewhere before?” You ask and the girl grins from ear to ear.

“We have,” her ponytail bounces whenever she speaks and now you can see that she can barely contain her excitement. It wasn’t something out of the ordinary for you. “I’m Carissa. WildeLover04 on twitter. We’ve met a couple of times now.”

“Oh, wow,” You remember now. Her face has now been engrained in your mind. “You work here?”

“It’s my first week,” She confirms. “I heard the tips over here on this side of town were good. So I applied and got the job on the spot.”

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” Rose reminds you. She taps a picture on the menu to signal she wants pancakes and she’s not willing to wait for a second longer.

“Well, Carissa, congratulations and it’s very nice to meet you,” Natasha adds to the conversation.

“Thank you,” Carissa takes out her pen and pad. She must have forgotten her script because a few seconds later she’s scolding herself. “Right, sorry, silly me. Can I get you guys started with something to drink?”

“I’ll have a coffee, black,” Natasha requests and she looks to Rose for her request.

“Orange juice, please,” Rose chimes in.

“She’s so well-mannered,” Carissa comments as she scribbles down the order. She waits for you to say yours.

“I’ll take a water, thank you,”

“Okay, great, take some time to look over the menu and I’ll make sure to bring those drinks right out to you,” She promises and walks off with a beam.

You wait until she’s out of earshot before turning back to Natasha.

“That girl is like a super fan of mine,” You inform her. Natasha seems interested enough. You give her the entire rundown of everything with Carissa and how big of a following she has.

“Do you find it weird that she works here?” Natasha tilts her head.

“Hmm, no, maybe a little,” You’re not too sure. “It’s not like she would have tried to work here to only see me. I’m sure other public figures come and eat here all the time.”

“She’s a bit awkward but seems harmless,” Natasha shrugs. As long as she remained respectful there should be no problem.

Things are smooth sailing for the rest of breakfast. Rose gets the jr pancake combo that comes with confetti sprinkle-covered pancakes. You get french toast and Natasha gets chicken and waffles. You eat from her plate and she’s all too willing to share. Carissa hovers a little but you just write it off as her being a good waitress. You leave her with a hefty tip and give your goodbyes to the rest of the staff that you’ve come to know. You stop for the bathroom first when you bump into her again. Natasha and Rose head to the car to wait for you. It’s a quick trip and you’re about to wash your hands when she comes in. You give her a polite smile and proceed with your hand washing. She’s on her phone and she’s texting a mile a minute. Suddenly, she looks up at you.

“Hey, um, this may seem weird,” She comes across as shy though you’re beginning to think she’s anything but. “I sent you a bear. I have a friend that works at CAA and I was wondering if you received it. I know you sent a tweet for thanks but I just wanted to make sure Rose liked it.”

“Oh, yeah, I have it. I usually try to keep everything that’s sent to me,” You look at her through the mirror.

“Great, I’m glad,” She looks at her watch. “Thank you for being so nice about everything. I know I’m coming across as creepy. I’m just really happy I got to meet you and everything.”

“No problem,” You say. You think it’s a bit of an awkward conversation to be having in the bathroom. “It’s so nice that you’re so normal. I’ve met a lot of people that don’t keep their cool when meeting me.”

“No, I’m totally chill,” Carissa promises. “I’ve met a lot of celebrities before but you’re my favorite.”

“Thank you,” You take the compliment. “I have to go now but thank you for the kind words.” You slip past her and take the exit. You meet Natasha and Rose in the car. You slide into the driver’s seat again and it’s time to head home.

***********************************

When you arrive home, Natasha keeps the girls occupied while you go for a quick nap. You’re still thinking about Carissa and the conversation you had with her when you get to your bedroom. You reach for the bear that’s been tucked in a corner of your bedroom until now. You checked it for cameras or a mic upon receiving it but now you’re a little paranoid. You don’t want to assume that Carissa has ill intentions but you can never be too sure.

“Everything okay?” Natasha asks as she steps into the bedroom. She eyes the bear and you.

“Peachy,” You take the bear, inspecting it for any unusual stitchings or holes, only to find none. Maybe you’re overreacting. This time you stuff it in the back of your closet where it will stay for the near future.

“What’s that about?” Natasha leans against the dresser with her arms folded. She watches as you stuff the bear into the back of the closet where neither of you can see it.

“It’s nothing,” You shake your head. She probably wouldn’t believe you if you said it.

“Okay,” Natasha takes your word for it. On your way out of the bedroom, she reaches a hand out to catch your arm. She tugs you into her, wrapping her arms around your waist, to keep you there. “I haven’t kissed you today.”

“We kissed at the airport?” You remind her and Natasha plays coy. “I’m sure there are dozens of paparazzi pictures and fan edits to show you.”

“I don't know it’s been so long I’m forgetting what it's like,” She shakes her head and you chuckle. You decide to refresh her memory in another way. This time by leading her to the bed where you gently push her down. She sits with a happy expression on her face. She gives your body a once-over, and the wanton look sends chills down your spine. As you lean into her, you move to straddle her lap, directing one of her hands to your bottom. The first kiss is innocent enough. Short and sweet. A reacquaintance if you will. The next kiss is a little more passionate. A little more heated and definitely a lot more tongue. You breathe through your nose as best you can, letting out a little moan when Natasha bites your bottom lip, and you get lost in the kiss.

“My eyes, they’re burning,” Rose interrupts your makeout session. She covers her eyes with both hands and walks blindly over to the both of you. “No hands in naughty places.” She warns the both of you and you laugh at her words.

“That’s right, Rosie,” Natasha agrees. She moves her hand to a more respectable place. Before either of you realize what’s happening, Rose is pushing you from Natasha's lap to sit.

“I forgot I’m not the only woman in your life anymore,” You roll your eyes in fake annoyance.

“Mama, guess what?” Rose says.

“What?” Natasha plays along. “You got a new doll?”

“Nope,” Rose shakes her head.

“You grew another arm?” Natasha uses her strength to flip Rosie around to search for a new arm.

“No, Mama,” Rose giggles. “I got a hideaway in my room. Want to see?”

“I’d love to,” Natasha allows her to slip from her lap before following her.

“C’mon, Mommy, you too,” Rose toddles back to you to pull you to a standing position. You both walk with her down the hall to her bedroom. Rose’s bedroom is every little girl's dream. At least it was the dream bedroom you wanted when you were younger. It’s a soft pink whimsical-themed bedroom with a twin-sized sleigh bed. Her toys are lined up along her window seat rather than in her toy box. Rose’s bed is made up courtesy of Carla and it’s pretty neat. On one side of the bedroom, she has a tent that she plays in more often than not. There’s her dresser, her closet filled with many dresses and tutus, and her new hiding spot.

It’s a crawlspace. Nothing too huge. Not big enough to be considered an extra room. The walls are the same color as the bedroom. You had a contractor and electrician come to install lights and ensure the room was safe for her to be inside. There’s a mini chandelier-type light that Rose picked out herself. A sleeping bag, some of her toys, and a blanket inside. Natasha crawls in first and then you. You both fit comfortably along with Rose.

“This is really nice,” Natasha looks around. There’s a chalkboard wall behind her and it’s already filled with plenty of drawings from Rose. “I think your new space is fit for a princess.”

“Thank you,” Rose shuffles around her toys to sit. “You’re not too big either, Mommy.” Rose gestures to both of you.

“Nope,” You nod.

“I don’t know Rose this is a whole house,” Natasha pokes her. “Can I move in? Are you going to charge me rent?”

“No,” Rose laughs again. “No grown-ups allowed or even boys.”

“No grownups? Mommy and I are grownups? Can we come in,” Natasha tilts her head?

“Y-yeah but not when the door is closed. That means privacy,” Rose sets the record straight. “And no boys because I don’t have a brother. I want one though.”

“You want a brother?” You raise a brow. This is the first you’ve heard of this.

“Yes, I need a brother so he can teach me how to skateboard,” Rose reasons. She crosses her feet at the ankle and tells you all about why brothers would be nice. “But he can’t live here with us. He can live somewhere else and just visit. Like Peter.”

“There it is,” Natasha nudges you. “She only wants a brother to bend to her every will.”

“At least she knows,” You comment.

“Can we have a tea party now?” Rose suggests. She sits up and begins to rearrange her toys again to make room. There was never a dull moment with her.

*******************************************************

The next morning is even more hectic than before. You woke up late, completely Natasha’s fault and if she denied it you’d remind her of her insatiable habits. Next, you forgot to pump so you do it in the car on the way to the photoshoot. Roxy talks to you about a campaign she has coming up where she thinks the entire family could join in. You’re about to decline but it doesn't sound like a bad idea.

“It’s for The Children’s Place,” Roxy gives the details. “It won’t be a huge campaign. They have a family collection coming out. The girls would be featured but it wouldn’t be a huge thing.”

“Hmm, I’ll have to run it by Tasha,” You shift uncomfortably. Though pumping wasn’t painful it wasn’t a walk in the park either. You preferred to breastfeed Grace. “You know Rose will let the fame get to her head the first chance she gets.”

“I love that girl,” Roxy laughs. “Did you do anything fun yesterday?”

“Other than have mindblowing sex with my insanely hot wife?” You offer just to gross her out and her reaction doesn’t disappoint.

“I can’t blame you because I did the same,” Roxy shrugs. "Not with your wife. My wife." Roxy laughs and you join in.

“We went to IHOP for breakfast with Rose. There was an interesting interaction with a fan who works there. Carissa.”

“The one that sent you the bear?” Roxy recalls her name.

“That’s the one,” You nod.

“I’ve been keeping track of her account,” Roxy says. “She’s a total fangirl. It’s disgusting.”

“She didn’t seem like the crazed type the few times I’ve talked with her,” You think it over. “Well, not more than usual. She does seem a tad bit obsessed but…”

“As I said I’ve got my eye on her,” Roxy shakes the phone in her hand. “Isn’t that right, Sonny?” Roxy looks to the front seat where your bodyguard, Sonny, is looking out of the window.

“Absolutely,” He replies stoically. He’s always so serious.

“Anyway, are you coming to the party?” You ask Roxy.

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss a Romanoff-Y/Ll/N party for the world,” She locks her phone.

“It’s a date,” You release yourself from the shackles of the breast pump while managing to keep your modesty. You ensure the containers are closed before stuffing them into the cooler you’re keeping inside the car. Now you’re ready for the photoshoot.

The photoshoot lasts for about five hours. Your schedule is jam-packed for the day with costume fittings, hair and makeup, and the actual shoot itself. You’re beginning to feel fatigued with the entire process but you know you have to push forward. Anything to make the time go by faster. You’re also scheduled for an interview with USWeekly which is the point of this entire thing. You’re seated in a chair, dressed in an extravagant nightgown, with fuzzy pink slippers on your feet, and Darcy by your side to fix your makeup. You pay as much attention as you can to the interviewer Samantha Daily as she shoots off questions.

“Do you ever get used to being a celebrity?” She asks and you pause.

“No, I don’t think you do,” You answer honestly. “At least for me. There are people that exist that live for the fame and lifestyle and I think Natasha handles it all quite well. As for me, while I enjoy it, fame was never something I was chasing. It’s always been about the craft and the entertainment industry as an art. So, no, I’m always kind of surprised when people know me. It makes it harder but having discernment and understanding what celebrity means also helps a lot.”

“I know as a celebrity there are a lot of crazy rumors,” Samantha inquires and you bob your head. “What’s the craziest rumor you’ve heard about yourself?”

“Hmm, I think each decade there’s a new one,” You genuinely try to think which one is the craziest. “When I was a young teen, you know I had a lot of trouble finding myself and navigating the fame, I was never, you know, wild or disrespectful, but I had my moments. Back then there was one rumor that I lost my virginity on a casting couch. Which implies a lot of things that don’t even describe my character or my personality. It just was not factual and also not something I would have ever thought about doing back then or even now as an adult woman. It was a rumor put out by an actress that lost out on the role we both auditioned for. I mean, she’s apologized since then, but it followed me around for a while. Um, when Natasha and I first began dating people would make up different places where they saw us having sex. Which is inappropriate as rumors tend to be. I’ve heard a lot of ridiculous things. A lot of them involve sex. In our early twenties, we were seen as wild sex symbols that everyone wanted to get a taste of. So I could see where it would come from but a lot of it was just hearsay and it’s very hard to steer away from those types of things when it's out there.”

“That is very unfortunate that young women in the industry have to go through that,” Samantha sympathizes.

“It is and I’m glad now we’re having conversations and you know bringing these things to light,” You agree. “You know being in some of these rooms and knowing that that’s what people think of you is disheartening. They’re not paying attention to the work and they only consider you a body to lust after. It’s dehumanizing.”

You and Samantha discuss a little more off the record before you have more questions.

“Now, I want to pivot over to success,” Samantha begins. “What would you say is your biggest accomplishment?”

“Hmm, I figure I can say something cliche like motherhood,” You toy with the idea. You stop speaking when Darcy needs to give you touch-ups. “I think it’s a different kind of success that is only considered great if you see it that way. I love my children. I love being a mom. They’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I was intentional with motherhood, how I wanted to raise my girls, and how I wanted to be. So the accomplishment for me lies in raising well-rounded and emotionally intelligent humans who have compassion for others and their surroundings. I think that right now they’re so young, I can say that Rose is so polite and so sweet. She’s a joy to have around and she’s helpful. Career-wise, my recent Emmy win was amazing, I got to record an album as a teen. I think every single thing I’ve done has been fulfilling and I wouldn’t say one thing is bigger than the other.”

“That’s a great answer. I love that answer,” Samantha writes your words down in her notebook. The rest of the interview pretty much goes like that. She’s a great interviewer and knows how to get the correct information from you. She isn’t pushy or invasive, and you love her for that. Before you know it your time is up, and the shoot is over. You’ve got some good shots, and you’re sure you’ll be seeing the results in a few months.

For now you could go home and cuddle iwht your babies.

******************************

A brunch is always an event with you’re with your friends. You’re in a fancy restaurant and having adult conversations with the people you love. It’s been months and maybe even a year since you’ve seen some of the beautiful faces. All of you are at different points in your careers and life and it’s exciting being able to catch up. Wanda Maximoff, a punk rock star, and actress has just ordered her first drink of the morning. You’ve been friends with her since childhood when she played your best friend on your breakout tv show Better Days. Monica Rambeau is a college friend and celebrity hairstylist so you see her quite often. Carol Danvers is a celebrity fitness instructor. Maria Hill is currently a top exec at Netflix. Your lives all surround the entertainment industry though it’s often the last thing on your minds when you meet.

Today the topic is sleazy men and dating. Something you can’t quite add to as you’ve been out of the dating game for six years now. You listen and add input whenever someone questions you but overall you’re happy to be there.

“I think Vis is going to pop the question,” Wanda confesses and you all look at her. She traces a ring around the rim of her cup.

“Why don’t you sound happy about that?” You ask. You know Wanda’s moods and you know her like the back of your hand. You thought she would be more enthusiastic about it. All eyes are on her now as you wait for her to answer.

“I don’t know,” Wanda frowns. “I just don’t think we’re at that point yet. I thought dating older men things would be different. We’ve been together for two years now. I haven’t really thought about marriage to him. Which says something right?” She looks to you for answers and you weigh the options. “I have been struggling with it for a while. He has been hinting at it and I just…I can’t for the life of me understand why it doesn’t make me happy. I want a married life. Kids, a family, nice house. I do love him. I do.”

“I think your feelings are valid,” Carol nods. “Have you ever sat down with him and talked through how you’re feeling?” She steals a fry from Monica’s plate.

They all go over various reasons for Wanda’s hesitance. You on the other hand don’t say anything. That is until she asks.

“Y/n, what do you think?” She waits patiently for you to speak. You would rather not in case she’s not ready for your analysis.

“Wanda,” You start off slowly. “I have watched you with Vision for a while. He’s a great man. Lovely producer. I’ve also watched you with several other men in the past.”

“You’re calling me a whore?” Wanda raises a brow.

“In so many words she kind of did,” Maria sips from her cup. The rest of the group laughs.

“No, no, I’m not calling you anything,” You point the finger at Maria. “I am saying I’ve seen you with men and you never seem as happy with them as you could be. There’s always something holding you back. Which could be a fear of commitment on your end or I know you dabbled a bit in college but have you ever considered that you may actually be attracted to women.”

There’s a moment of silence as everyone takes your words into consideration. That is possible.

“I don’t know if it’s a fear of commitment,” Wanda shrugs. “Maybe we can talk a bit more about the second thing at a later date? I don’t think that’s something I can explore like now.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” You promise. “For now think about whether or not you want a life with Vision and how you want that life to go. We’ll be here either way.”

“Amen,” Monica raised her glass. “Now, about this party. Y/n what should I wear?”

“The party is in two days and you don’t have an outfit?” Your mouth drops open. “Monica what are we going to do with you.”

“Buy me an outfit,” Monica quips.

Brunch with friends turned into shopping with friends and you found yourself an outfit that might be better than the one you chose. You spend time with Natasha and the girls and everything is alright at home. Life is good for you.

On the other side of town, a series of tweets by Carissa is put out into the world.

@Wildelover04: Y/n and Natasha are hosting their annual summer party in a few days. I can’t wait to see everything.

@Wildelover04: Just got a new gig for this week. Can you guess what it is?

@Wildlover04: I’ve met y/n again and she was so lovely. Rose and Natasha are adorable too.

*** added is a picture of Natasha and Rose with their backs turned at IHOP.*****

----> next part

[toomanywatchers]

My Thoughts on WatcherTV

Hi, I am here to put away my meme-making skills to express my genuine thoughts on Watcher’s announcement; WatcherTV. Before I get into it, this is for any of those at Team Watcher who might be seeing this message: Just know we love and support everything you do for us. Y’all truly do not get the credit you rightfully deserve. I hope with this change to a separate streaming platform you guys can create the content you want to make, pull in creators that you’ve always wanted to work with, and share voices/topics that may have not had the chance to shine because of YouTube’s heinous algorithm. I know myself, and many others, are excited to see what WatcherTV brings. For instance, I already watched Road Files and the trailer for Travel Season on the new platform. And guess what? I love it! I just love BTS-centric shows and seeing the vibes established on Travel Season. Along with more Lizzie/possibly-more-sightings-of-other-Team-Watcher-peeps content?!? If this is what holds for the future of WatcherTV- oh boy, do you already have me more on board than I already was.

I also send my sincerest regards too. We all know that the internet can be a negative space with many sharing their uncensored thoughts, and I hope none of you take the hate to heart. I also hope you can take the weekend to breathe, drink some water, spend time with loved ones, and celebrate this huge step you all are embarking on. I am truly excited to see what is to come on WatcherTV will be there with each step to support.

Now to my fellow fans of Watcher. I understand the concern and it is okay to have concerns. It shows that you truly care for Watcher as a company and don’t want anything negative to come about with this decision. BUT on the other hand, spreading hateful messages? Not. Fucking. Cool. It is quite simple to express concern in an appropriate/respectful manner. Remember, this is a company full of living and breathing human beings. Trying to justify “who is to blame” and pointing fingers is just childish. Guess what? No one is to blame, it was a company-wide decision that they all made and spent months upon months to create.

Yes, it does suck to see content that was free for years be moved to a paywall, but remember they are independent artists that have to pay employees, freelancers, locations, and themselves! Have we not been advocating for fair pay among creative individuals when it comes to WGA/SAG-AFTRA strikes and then AI art taking jobs away from artists? If this is what the company needs to do to survive while not sacrificing the high-quality content they make for us, then we should give it a shot! Plus with the current discount available, the subscription is not that pricey for the amount of shows they produce! Literally for January and a bit of February, they were uploading 2 podcasts and 2 separate shows… that’s a lot of content! If you have never sat down to produce, direct, write, perform, edit, and all other aspects it takes to make a fine-polished YouTube video, it takes a lot of work!

To add to this, Watcher already makes content that far expands past what is recognized as normal for YouTube. They build individual sets for each show that is produced, and they travel all over the place for Ghost Files and soon-to-be Travel Season. It costs money to produce content and YouTube?- It’s just not how it was years and years ago. Views on long-form content have been dipping and with the over-saturation of sponsorships, I am assuming they are not making enough profit to sustain the business on the current platform. Also, monetization on YouTube has been a killer for many channels because of vulgar language issues and just being demonetized for no rhyme or reason. By moving over to a streaming platform of their own they can continue to create what they want to create, and make it without any restrictions or rules holding them back. Too pricey? Find some friends who also like the content and split the pricing evenly. Only want to watch certain shows? Then make a monthly subscription for the time that show airs. There are many solutions that you guys see as a huge problem, and don’t get me wrong I have my concerns. I shared those concerns briefly in my theory post about them still being a young channel, but I’m also unaware of the actual analytics and revenue that is currently being brought in currently to the company from YouTube alone. 

It’s a huge step that has garnered negative feedback from those spreading hateful messages about the company and to other individuals for supporting the boys *cough cough I see your messages and comments cough cough* is truly uncalled for. I will be taking a bit of a break from my socials as I wait out the storm though if I have the energy, I might stream on Twitch again and talk through this with y’all if you can sit down and have a civil discussion. As for now, it’s your choice if you continue to support. My goal is to continue to make funny little memes, and if I am allowed to I will be working on a crack video pt.2 after Travel Season premieres. Remember to be kind and to put yourselves in their shows. Just the boys even though they are receiving the brunt of the hate, but for everyone at the company.

Your local memester watcherina - Fritz.

[boobearymuch]

Sweeter Than Coffee

Summary: He was his own worst enemy, he knew this. His friends knew this. And as annoying as it might seem, he promised them to try. Leon could at least have the decency to pretend to be interested in this date. That’s when he heard it. His name. At first a question, then a statement loud enough to finally grab his attention. And – oh wow, are you his date? Tags: Leon S. Kennedy/gn!reader, fluff, light angst, mentions of anxiety and insomnia, first date fluff, blind date Word Count: 2k Read on AO3

Notes: Another upload from ao3!! Writing some new stuff though, maybe sneak peek soon ? (it's a plagas!Leon fic hehe)

Fuck.

Just one night. Was just one night of sleep too much to ask for? Surely of all days his fucked up sleep schedule decided to wreak havoc, it just had to be this one, didn’t it? So much for a fresh beginning, Leon thought darkly. Well, if the agent were being honest with himself he knew he’d fuck this up; to think he ever thought otherwise is a total joke. And – speaking of jokes – Leon swore he heard his love life die out in a pathetic gurgle as the coffee shop came into view. Jesus, he hoped it was the right one. When he left his apartment he initially took off in the wrong direction, muscle memory taking him in the direction of work instead of the date he promised his meddlesome coworkers he would go on. At this point, it would probably be less humiliating to say he never showed up than admit he arrived so late his date thought he never showed up. But it was too late. The door handle was right there, and after working up a sweat running to this place, he damn well deserved a coffee. 

Like most coffee places did, this one smelled heavenly. It has admittedly been a while since he last visited his usual one – the shop a few blocks from his apartment that also served Cuban sandwiches – and the smell of coffee beans was almost enough to make Leon forget how irritated he was. Almost. His expression dropped into its usual frown now as he allowed himself to catch his breath and survey the room. He couldn’t help but look predatory as his frosty gaze lingered at the counter, then to the many small tables dotted around the room. Was this a waste of his time? Were you even here? His coworker seemed to think he’d get along with you, for whatever reason, but looking for you now had him second guessing. It’s been a while since he’d been on a date. A long, long while. And assuming he didn’t fuck this up and you were still here, he might end up talking himself out of it anyway. I mean, maybe it wasn’t too late. Leon could spin on his heel right now and leave, maybe walk to the park with a sandwich…

He was his own worst enemy, he knew this. His friends knew this. And as annoying as it might seem, he promised them to try. Leon could at least have the decency to pretend to be interested in this date. That’s when he heard it. His name. At first a question, then a statement loud enough to finally grab his attention. And – oh wow, are you his date? 

Leon only caught a glimpse of you prior to the meeting thanks to a grainy photo on his coworker’s flip phone. But nothing could have prepared him for the vision waving at him shyly, an uncertain smile reaching your lips. “Hi,” He said, unable to take his eyes off you, “I’m Leon.” He didn’t even know when he moved close enough to grab the chair opposite you. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you.” Your excitement reached your eyes, and a sudden wave of guilt overcame Leon for his idea about leaving just moments ago. God – you look nice. Like, really nice. Should he have tried harder than a t-shirt and jeans? He prayed to god his shirt wasn’t inside out, but hopefully the bomber jacket covered that negligence. Hopefully. Shit, did he wash it? It takes him a moment to realize you’re talking again, snapping himself free of thoughts of dirty laundry and instead on the cup you pushed toward him. Like some sort of angel, you’ve already bought his coffee. “It’s got cream and sugar, I hope that’s okay. I wasn’t sure how you took yours…” 

Usually, Leon drank his coffee black. Not necessarily because he liked it, but rather out of convenience more than anything. Sometimes it’s all they have on missions, and when you’re pulling all-nighters in freezing temperatures, hot (albeit bitter) coffee is a blessing. He remembers his manners long enough to thank you, before taking a gentle sip. It’s sweet, and he’s not used to it, but he drinks it gratefully after the night he’s had. Which reminds Leon of his predicament. “I’m sorry for being late.” He began sincerely and lowered his gaze to watch your hands wrap around the paper coffee cup, “It’s kind of…lame, but I slept in by accident.” The bouts of insomnia haven’t gone away since returning from Spain. 

But you don’t seem to mind, and only let out a small, “Mm, it’s alright. I was late too, so it worked out.” A blush reached your face – embarrassed – and Leon felt an invisible weight lift off his achy shoulders. You could have chosen to keep that to yourself, Leon would be none the wiser, but you didn’t. Perhaps his confidence was finally returning to him, but he had to know. 

“Oh, really? What’s your excuse?” 

The way you peered down at your coffee to avoid his teasing made him want to reach over and direct your warm gaze back at him. “You’re gonna think it’s ridiculous, but…” You tell him. It was a damn hummingbird. Walking over, perfectly on time, you were distracted by a hummingbird going crazy in a flowering bush. You even stopped to take pictures on your small flip phone. And Leon can’t help it, he laughs. To think he jogged down the street – haggard and unkempt – while you stopped to admire a bird. 

You smiled too, but feigned offense to his reaction. “I never see them in this part of the city.” You defended, and Leon shook his head, shoulders still shaking with a silent laugh, “What? They’re good luck, you know.”

“Mm, really?”

“Yes, actually.” You insisted while he bit back a goofy smile and took another sip of his sweet coffee, “I mean, maybe. I’ll have to see how this coffee pans out first.” You seem shy again, as if it suddenly dawned on you this was a date. Fuck, he’s so glad he came. How could Leon have gone about the rest of his day without hearing about your lucky hummingbird? And then you asked, “So – what do you do?”

Ah. He wished you had asked him about anything else. Leon’s gaze suddenly dropped to his coffee, and he thumbed it as flashes of his latest work trip came to mind. Spain, Las Plagas, Ashley. “Um, I do work for the government.” He cleared his throat, unable to focus on your reaction – on anything – when he thinks about Spain. “It’s…a lot.” It wasn’t fair. You were making each other smile just moments ago until his damn anxiety reared its ugly head again. Spain, Las Plagas, Ashley, Luis.

“The government? I can’t imagine how overworked they have you.” You sympathized, and god bless you for trying to make him lighten up. The truth is, he’s developed some odd habits since returning. Sometimes he feels his veins twitch like they remember the parasite that nearly consumed him. And if he’s wearing sleeves, he fervently pushes them up about two or three times in the same hour to check for veins. But his insomnia…that fucked with him worse. When Leon lies down to rest, he’ll be dozing off and swear he hears Ashley’s voice in the distance. It just sounds so vivid, he can’t help but get up – each and every time – to check each room, make sure they’re empty. If it happens multiple times in one night, he’ll grab his gun and do a perimeter check outside the apartment. It’s a miracle his neighbors haven’t called the police on the crazed man in pajama pants who circled the property twice a night. And when his body finally tired out from being on alert, sleep was no respite. If he dreams, he’s running through castles and empty police stations. Footsteps squelch with rainwater and blood. 

But he doesn’t tell you any of this. Spain, Las Plagas, Ashley, Luis, Krauser.

Fuck, he’s been quiet for too long. His friends warned him about being curt. “Yeah, I have to travel a lot. It’s exhausting.”

You nodded in understanding, but Leon couldn’t bring himself to look at you anymore. You probably thought he was such an asshole for switching up on you. But if you did, you didn’t show it. “Really? Traveling sounds nice. Where do they send you?” Your refusal to let him stew in his emotions tugs at his heartstrings, but he wished you’d change the subject now.

Leon laughs without humor. “Recently, Spain.” 

“Ah, not a fan of Spain then?” Your voice is softer now, the tone of your voice akin to someone approaching a wounded animal. 

  “No,” He confessed somberly, “Not really.” 

“Yeah, fuck Spain.” Your cussing caught him off guard, and he finally looks up to watch you flush with warmth as you feign hatred for the topic. “And their late night dinners. And…and paellas.”

Leon is amused by your declaration, clearly trying hard to make him smile and god he loves you for that. And, fuck, it works. “Actually,” The corners of his lips rise, “Paellas are pretty good.”

“You’re right, they really are.” You admit, which makes him huff with a laugh. 

God, he needs to get it together. Ask you something, at least. Leon was never spectacular at small talk – he quipped here and there – but holding a conversation that wasn’t about work? Hell, he was struggling to even do that. “Listen, can I ask you something?” The words leave his mouth before he can second guess himself. You tilt your head curiously, but your eyes communicate an invitation to continue. And your gaze makes him feel so nervous and warm, how can a stranger’s eyes feel this safe? He wanted to tell you everything, but not just yet. “How did you feel about coming to meet me today?” Apprehension oozed from his bones, down to his hands and the poor sleeve on his coffee cup that his blunt nails picked at. He wasn’t sure what he hoped to hear, but he knew he liked you – really liked you. Leon knew he wanted a second date the moment you mentioned the hummingbird. God, he sincerely hoped he didn’t screw this up. Was he too moody? Were you only here as a favor to your mutual friend? Did his coworker beg you to go on a date with Leon – some broken guy who can barely see the point of going to sleep anymore? 

There was no predicting what you’d tell him, but he never imagined you’d tell him, “I was nervous, of course.” You began stroking the side of your coffee with a steady thumb, “But excited? I don’t normally do this sort of thing — go on dates with strangers. But I had a good feeling about you.” Leon could melt. “I’ll admit I almost said no, but…we shouldn’t let our pasts get in the way of a new beginning, right?”

It seems he isn’t the only one worried about baggage. “Yeah, that’s right.” For the second time that day relief washed over him, dropping his shoulders at least by an inch after hearing your sweet response. “I would have had a really shitty morning otherwise.” A beat, and then he’s opening up like a flower in May. “I’m glad I’m spending it with you.” With you, this angel who can somehow read him like an open book and say things like fuck paellas and emotional baggage. And you’re smiling so warmly at him how could he not want more mornings like this with you. 

But it ends all too soon, and you’re hugging him goodbye, and he hopes your scent lingers, and you’re trading numbers, and you poke fun at his beat up phone, but yours is worse. You part ways, and he can’t help but look back over his shoulder to watch you walk away. For the last several moments with you, it’s like Leon forgot the ache in his heavy chest was because of Spain, Las Plagas, Ashley, Luis, Krauser –

It was peaceful in your arms – for just a moment – nothing plagued his mind. And it was all because of you, you, you.