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reignsbaby · 3 months

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This is for @diorianna

Hope you enjoy love!!!

(Also let’s pretend that Roman only has 3 kids in this)

Longing for Love

——Joe P.O.V.——

I never thought my life would include a messy divorce with children involved but here I am…and it’s so difficult. I’m fighting for my kids, my home, my life all of it. It all just keeps getting more stressful as days go on. My grey hairs are popping through more and more. I had to find someone to help me. I began to reasearch nanny’s and baby sitters. When my eyes fell upon Y/N I felt something jolt inside me. The smile, so perfect and beautiful, the doe eyes entrancing me further…but I stopped myself. I was a soon to be divorced dad of 5. No woman her age would want me like that. But she did seem pretty genuine and open to really any hours available. So I decided to shoot her an email

—— Y/n P.o.V. ——

I groaned as my phone dinged roughly five times. There’s no way it’s time for me to get up yet…who the hell is texting me this early? I thought as I rolled over in my bed, I picked my phone up off the nightstand before sitting up in bed. It was notifications from my nanny/babysitting app I have.

Joe Anoa’i: Hello my name is Joe

Joe Anoa’i : I’ve never contacted someone on here before so bare with me please 😅

Joe Anoa’i: I have 3 kids, 1 is a teen so I don’t really need help with her as much, she might need help with homework or something here and there but she’s mostly with her mom, but I do have twin boys who are 3 years old.

Joe Anoa’i: I’m unsure the hours, I am really struggling currently as I’m going through a very rough divorce on top of this

Joe Anoa’i: I’m also on the road a lot, when I have my kids, they come with me so I can assure I spend gas much quality time with them as possible.

I took a look at Joes profile and I immediately noticed how good looking he was. But I pushed that aside it was time to be professional.

Good Morning Joe! I appreciate your interest in my services! I am a part time student who full time works as a nanny/babysitter, I would like to tell you a little bit about myself as I find that important for potential clients. I am 24 years old and I have always loved children, I as of now prefer to watch others children since I want to get my degree! I go to school online so I have open availability! I have been babysitting for roughly 7 years, and I’ve nannied for families for 2 years! I have taken many classes and sat in seminars to ensure that I can be a positive role model for children as well as a safe person for them to rely on. My classes and certifications will be listed below:

• CPR And AED Certified (I also have a portable aed machine I keep with me at all times)

• Water Safety Certification

• infant care certification

• professional nanny certification

• Childhood nutrition

• Fitness education

• Foreign language (6 years of Spanish, 3 years of French, I speak Spanish and French fluently)

• Special Needs Care Classes

• Positive Discipline Training

I would definitely be interested in helping you out! I do require at least one in person meeting prior to discussing any services and creating a buisness contract. If meeting in person doesn’t work (with your busy work schedule) I am also willing to do a zoom call and talk to you over that! Thank you for your interest and I hope to hear from you soon!

Y/F/N Y/L/N

I sent the email and rolled over to go back to sleep. I couldn’t help but think about how handsome Joe was…I pushed it out of my mind and slowly fell back to sleep.

——Joe P.O.V.——

As I ran on the treadmill the ding of a notification interrupted my music. I looked down seeing it was a email from the nannying site. I opened it, reading Y/N’s message and smiling. She said she’d help! And she’s got so many qualifications…man she’s a well rounded individual.

—Time skip because it’s needed now—

——Y/n P.O.V.——

It was a hot day and the first thing the boys wanted to do was swim, I loved Joe’s twins and they were so well behaved. And Joelle was home too which made for nice conversation, she’s such a sweet girl I felt bad that she had to be as old as she was while her parents went through a divorce, my parents were divorced, and it sucked to be her age through all of it too. I walked upstairs, knocking on the door of the boys room. I opened it hearing then giggle. “You boys finish your assigned reading for the day?” I asked and they both nodded with big smiles on their faces. “Well good……I guess it’s pool time then!” I said excitedly and they screamed jumping up and down and making me shush them. “Boys your dad is still sleeping you have to keep it down…he had a long week.” I said and they looked up at me covering their mouths before giggling. “I’m awake.” I heard his deep raspy voice say from behind me, shivers ran up my spin as I slowly turned to look back. My eyes trailed from his thick muscular legs up to his naked torso and chest. My eyes finally connected with his deep chocolate doe eyes making my face flush. “Oh Mr.Anoa’i I didn’t realize you were up! Sorry boys I yelled at you for no reason then.” I said with a small laugh. “How many times I gotta tell ya call me Joe. It’s okay I’d rather you keep these rowdy boys of mine in line then let them wreak havoc like I know they can.” He said as he moved into the room, quickly swooping each boy up onto his shoulders. They giggled and squealed making me smile. “Daddy! Guess what! It’s pool day!” One twin squeaked out surrounded by laughs. “You gotta swim with us please daddy!” The other twin said making me smile. “They sure do drive a hard bargain huh?” He said turning and looking at me. “Yes they do.” I said with a smirk. “Well I guess I have no choice then. I’ll go get my suit on. You two get yours on.” He said setting them down and they nodded. “Last one down to the pool is a rotten egg!” He said before bolting from the room. I quickly grabbed the suits from their dresser handing them each one before exiting the room and closing the door. I needed to check on Joelle.

I knocked softly on her door, hearing her softly tell me to come in. I opened the door peaking my head in seeing her writing stuff down. “Hey Joelle, I just wanted to check in and see how you are doing.” I said with a soft smile closing the door behind me. She looked over sighing before I saw her lip wiggle. “Oh no I’m sorry hun I didn’t want to make you cry:” I said walking over and giving her a hug. She cried softly shaking her head: “I’m so stressed out!” She sobbed out and I rubbed her back letting her calm. “Let’s talk about what you are stressed about.” I said and she let out a shaky breath and nodded. “I’m trying to get a really good score on this anatomy test, I have all A’s but this class I have an A- and I want to get it up so bad. And then I have the varsity swim tryout tomorrow too…and with everything going on with my parents it’s hard to focus, I want to stay here but I know mom is coming tonight and that’s gonna be a huge deal if I even mention it. But I want quiet, and I love my brothers but they are kids and they are loud.” She said and I hummed nodding. “You got practice cards for the exam?” I asked and she nodded. “Okay, well I can help you study, and I can help you as best as I can with practicing for the swim tryout too. I think you need some fresh air for a reset though. Have you had anything to eat today yet?” I asked and she shook her head. “Okay, get your cards, and get your suite on, I’ll make you some lunch and we’ll sit by the pool and study.” I said and she smiled nodding. “You go ahead and get your suit on and I’ll go ahead and make you some food. Meet me down by the pool. I’ll help you out as much as I can.” I said and she smiled. She gave me a big hug. “Thank you for everything Y/n. I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t here.” She said and I smiled. “It makes me happy to help and it’s also my job. I don’t want you struggling through a bunch of stuff at once. You already have enough going on with your parents.” I said and she nodded. I stood giving her another hug before walking out. I walked down the stairs, taking stuff out to make sandwiches, I made Joelle, The boys, Joe and myself a sandwich, I then cut up some fruit and veggies and put them on a tray. Joelle walked down there stairs while I was cutting the boys sandwiches up. “I made you a sandwich hun. And I cut some fruits and veggies too. Let’s go outside.” I said and she nodded opening the door for me as I brought all the food out. “Boys I made you sandwiches come eat! Joe I made you one too.” I said and set them down on the table. The boys quickly got out running over to grab a sandwich. “Hey beautiful, how’s it going?” Joe asked getting out walking over to Joelle kissing her in the top of her head. “I’m a little stressed dad. Y/n’s helping me though.” She said smiling at me and I nodded. “If you need my help babygirl you know all you have to do is ask. Can I help with anything?” He asked as I ogled his body as he hopped out of the pool with ease. The water making his entire body glisten under the sun. “I might need your help with practicing for my swim team tryout tomorrow, and also I want to stay here overnight to get good rest, can you somehow try to convince mom to let me stay?” She asked and I could see him tense slightly. “Whatever you need babygirl I got you.” He said with a soft smile and she smiled back with a nod. Joelle sat down on one of the chairs organizing some school work. I walked over with her sandwich and sat down on the other chair. “Okay let’s get started.” I said and she nodded taking a bite out of her sandwich.

—————

We studied for a good portion of time and she was acing everything. “Okay how do you feel now?” I asked setting down her note cards. “Much more confident now onto the swim try out.” She said and I nodded. “Alright babygirl what do you need me to do?” Joe asked and she thought for a moment. “Well I need to stay under a certain time so can you time me?” She asked and he nodded. “Y/n can you give me a countdown? She asked and I nodded. We walked over to the far end of the pool and she got set up. “Alright. Ready, set, GO!” I said and she dived into the water effortlessly, swimming with all of her willpower to the other end. As soon as she touched the end she looked up at Joe. “18.5 seconds.” He said and she groaned. “What do you need to be at?” He asked her. “I need to be below 16 seconds.” She said and he nodded. “Okay well you aren’t that far off…let’s just focus and push, do you need me to talk to you while you swim?” He asked and she thought for a moment. “Yeah maybe.” She said hopping back out of the pool. She walked around to the end of the pool again getting ready. “Ready?” I asked and she nodded. “Ready. Set. GO!” I said and she dived in once again. “Come on! Push! You got this! Push! Faster! You are almost there!” Joe said as he cheered her on. She touched the wall looking over at him breathing heavily. “You were so close honey. 16.5 that time.” He said and she groaned. “Uhm would it helped if I raced you? Maybe when you are next to competition you push harder.” I said and she looked over at Joe and he shrugged. “I don’t think that it would hurt to try.” He said with a smile and I nodded. She came back over to the side I was on and we both got ready. “Ready. Set. GO!” Joe said as we both dove into the water. I swam as fast as I could and I could tell she was going to beat me. Which was good. I finally touched the wall and she quickly looked up and over at her father. “You got….13.8 SECONDS!” He said and I cheered clapping for her. “Yes!!! Thank you both for helping.” Joelle said with a big smile and I nodded.

——Joe P.O.V.——

As Joelle hopped out of the pool, I watched as Y/n slowly got out. I couldn’t help but watch the droplets of water cascade down her body. My mind thinking of all the things I’d love to do to her. But I was older than her, and divorced, messily divorced which she’s seem parts of. Which I’m sure isn’t a great look for me. But there’s also something so entrancing about watching her with my kids. She’s so nurturing and loving. And the kids seem to love her too. I was snapped out of my thoughts by Joelle. “I think mom’s here.” She said and I looked down at my watch. She was 2 hours early. I’m sure there’s some fucking reason for it. I walked into the house and over to the door. I opened it seeing my loving ex wife standing there. “You are early…what a lovely surprise.” I said with all the sarcasm I could muster. “It’s not like you have anything to hide. I already know you are probably sleeping with that skank you call a “nanny” you mad I interrupted you finally getting some?” She asked and I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

——Y/N P.O.V.——

I told the kids to go get their stuff ready upstairs as I walked into the house with their wet towels. I began walking to the laundry room before I heard the bickering. “Oh please Joe. I know you like that whore I’m sure you haven’t kept your hands off of her.” I heard his ex wife say. “Are you fucking crazy? You are here to pick the kids up that’s it. I’m not going to fucking argue with you. I don’t know why you care so much anyway. YOU asked for a divorce not me.” I heard Joe say and I bit my lip. Was she talking about it me? I wondered as I threw the towels in the washer throwing some soap in before starting it. “Because I don’t want my kids being watched by some slut who’s probably trying to fuck their father in front of them.” She said and my jaw dropped. She was talking about me. I slowly walked into the hallway not stepping out from behind the wall. “You are going to stop talking about Y/n like you even know her. And you need to stop projecting so much. Just because you cheated and then asked for a divorce and then the guy you cheated with broke up with you doesn’t mean that you have any right in how I’m living my life. And for your information Y/N and I have not slept together so let’s get that straight right now.” Joe said making me blush. “But you want to don’t you? You want to fuck someone younger. Manipulate her just like you did to me.” She said and my eyes went wide: “I’m seriously done having this conversation with you. You are just trying to embarrass me and yourself at this point.” Joe said and she laughed. Something in me decided to make me step out from behind the wall. Joes eyes made contact with mine and he sighed. “Y/n I’m sorry her behavior is unacceptable. I didn’t want you to hear any of that I apologize on her behalf.” He said and I smiled softly. “I don’t! I’m sure he’ll knock you up just like he did me. Don’t believe his fucking lies he’s an asshole.” She said looking over his shoulder. “It’s honestly disgusting to me that you’d talk about anyone in that manor in front of your own children.” I said and she scoffed. “Oh what like they don’t hear you two moaning all night anyway?” She said making me laugh. I walked up closer to the door and Joe watched me carefully. “Let’s get one thing very very clear. I’ve never slept with Joe. I’ve never slept with anyone who I work for. So the fact that you think you can step up here and talk about me as if you’ve known me for years is astronomical to me. You should be THANKFUL I’m here. Helping your children, making sure they are getting their school work done. I just helped Joelle prep for her anatomy exam she has tomorrow and her elite swim team tryout she also has tomorrow. And Joe has been right there doing what he can as their father to help too. But seeing that YOU stepped out, YOU made this more stressful for YOUR OWN KIDS! Not HIM! So don’t go around blaming everyone else for your mistakes. You don’t want to see anyone happy or succeed because you are miserable and that’s your own wrong doing. Not anyone else’s.” I spoke with confidence before walking away. She was speechless. I walked upstairs knocking on the loud door seeing them come out with their bags packed and ready. “Alright mommy’s downstairs, go ahead I’ll see ya boys in a few days!” I said with a smile ruffling their hair. I knocked on Joelle’s door before opening it. She was shoving things into her bag aggressively. “Are you alright Joelle?” I asked softly and she shook her head as I heard her sniffle.

I walked up and sat on her bed opening me arms and she looked up crying and falling into my arms. “I’m sorry you have to be in the middle of that hunny, It’s not fair to you.” I said rubbing her back. “No it’s not. But I know it’s not dad. It’s just her I don’t understand why she hates you, or dad, when she’s the one who made a mistake.” She said shaking her head and I shrugged. “Honey the last thing I want to do is make it seem like your mom is a bad person. I know she loves you and your brothers and I think that she’s just upset and hurt that she did loose your dad and she made that mistake. It’s hard…I’m sure. Especially with how long they were married. Even though she made a mistake, it still hurts loosing him I’m sure.” I said and she sighed. “I wish she was more like you. I wish she was you. I wish you were her. You know I heard her saying all those things about sleeping with my dad. I know you haven’t, but if you like him…I think it would be good for him to have you in his life. You keep him happy. I haven’t seen him like that since way before the divorce even. He’s so much more in tune us kids now too.” She said making me smile. “Well honey as much as I do have interest in your father I think he may believe I’m too young for him and that’s okay. It won’t make me care about you and your siblings any less.” I said and she nodded: “Just promise me you’ll stay in touch even if you find someone else to take care of.” She said and I smiled. “Oh hun, if it ever were to come to those terms of course I’ll stay in touch I want to see you succeed to your fullest potential. Now pack the rest of your stuff. You’ve gotta go.” I said and she nodded. I helped her pack the rest of her stuff into her bag and we walked out of her bedroom. We walked down stairs and she turned and hugged me, her mother glaring from the door. “Hey you are gonna do amazing tomorrow okay?” I said and she smiled nodded. She walked out the door, Joe closing it behind her. He sighed his head dropping as he looked down at the floor. “Joe I-.” Before I could finish he put a finger up. “Don’t. Don’t do what I know you are about to do.” He said and I blushed softly. “I was just gonna apologize.” I said and he shook his head turning around looking at me. “No. You don’t have to do that. You were in the right. I never should’ve let her continue disrespecting you. I apologize. She was so out of line.” He said and I shrugged. “I don’t care what she says about me. I care about what those kids hear. Joelle was up there in tears. That’s not okay to me.” I said and he nodded his eyes brimmed with tears. “I-I know. I just…I don’t even know what the fuck to do.” He said putting his head in his hands. “Would you like a hug?” I asked softly and he nodded walking over pulling me in for a big hug. He was like a giant compared to me but u tried my best to wrap my arms around him. He cried just like Joelle oddly enough. “I just never thought my life would come to this you know? I’ve been cheated on, went through a divorce and now she’s got this fucking vendetta out against me for god knows what, and my fucking children are being affected by it.” He said and I sighed. “You don’t deserve this.” I said and he shook his head. “I just want my kids to be happy. They are always happy when they come here and you’re here.” He said and I let him go finally sensing slight resistance. “Joe maybe it’s better if I find a different family to nanny for. I can’t live with subjecting the kids to this life if I’m what causes that.” I said and his face dropped. “Joe, maybe it would be best for me to nanny for a different family. I don’t want to cause the kids more stress and harm.” I said shaking my head and he pulled his head away looking at me fear writing like the front page cover of a newspaper. “Y-you can’t go. The kids love you, I love you, I-.” He stopped as it sunk in what he just said. “Y-you what?” I asked softly, looking up at him as tears brimmed my eyes. His hands slowly came up to caress my face before he pulled me in for a soft loving kiss.

I closed my eyes taking in the feeling of his soft sweet lips against mine. I relaxed against him as our lips moved in sync with each others. We pulled away for air and I finally opened my eyes looking up at him. His dark brown doe eyes bored into mine. “I said I love you. I fucking love you Y/N. And I know it’s probably wrong but fuck I can’t hide it anymore. You are so perfect.” He said rubbing my cheek softly making me smile. “I love you to Joe.” I said with a smile and his smile somehow grew wider. He kissed me again with more passion this time. His hand ran up to hair gripping it softly, his other arm snaking its way around my waist pulling me closer to him. I wrapped my arms around his neck softly moaning into his mouth. “Let me show you? Please?” He asked lowly and I nodded. His strong arms reached down to the back of my thighs hoisting me up onto his waist. He kissed my neck softly making my head lull back as he walked us up the stairs. “God I didn’t think you’d feel the same about me.” He said softly as we made our way to his room. He closed the door behind us, bringing us to the bed before sitting down. “I found you attractive the moment I saw you..” I whispered in his ear making him groan.

His hands traveled up my thighs, gripping my ass softly before continuing up to my waist. His hands slid under my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. His eyes traveled down my body. “God you are fucking gorgeous.” He whispered making me blush and cover my face. “What? There’s no way you aren’t used to compliments.” He said kissing down my neck slowly. “I don’t..g-get many.” I whispered out as he flipped me around laying me down softly in the bed. His soft lips trailed down my body his eyes closed with each kiss. His large hands caressed my thighs trailing down to my waistband. He delicately pulled my pants off, my underwear following right after. “Please take your clothes off.” I whimpered out and he smiled. “I got you baby.” He said lowly his lustful eyes gleamed in the setting sun. He pulled his shirt off with one hand. My eyes tracked down his gorgeous body. Loving the site. So fucking hot. His gorgeous tan skin, accompanied with his dark and prominent tattoos. I swore he was sculpted by a god. He pulled his pants down his v-lines peaking out of his boxers. My eyes traveled to his thick hard on prominent in his tight briefs. “Oh wow…I-I’ve never seen one so big before.” I said making him chuckle. “Can I touch you?” I asked softly looking up at him. “Of course you can baby.” He said lowly making me smile. I sat up crawling over to him. I kneeled as I leaned forward kissing his soft lips. His hands traveled down to my hips gripping them softly. I ran my hand down his chiseled upper body, wanting to memorize every ounce of muscle I could feel. Finally I met the fabric of his waistband. I slipped my fingers into his waist band reaching for his hard member. My hand just barely being able to wrap around it.

I slowly began to stroke him, his deep moans making the fire inside me blaze higher. He pulled away from the kiss pushing his forehead up against mine. “As much as I love you touching me. I’d prefer to also be pleasuring you.” He said and I smiled nodded. “How about you ride my face? Would you like that?” He’s asked and I nodded softly. Before I knew it he was laying down and I was being pulled up to his face. His muscular arms pulled my thighs down as he began to skillfully work his tongue against me. I moaned softly as my eyes rolled from pleasure. I quickly went to work taking his member out of his boxers, pushing them down his legs. I took in the sight of his thick cock, wondering how it was going to even fit. I had never seen someone so well endowed let alone had one inside of me that large. I gripped his member softly before slowly licking around the tip. His thighs twitched with anticipation as I began to lick and suck him. My tongue running along the veins feeling them throb. I moaned around him as he hit a pleasure filled spot. He slowed for a moment trailing his tongue around before triggering my moan again. He smiled against me as he focussed on that spot. I moaned around him my legs beginning to shake from pleasure. I sped up my motions bobbing my head around him adding my hand stroking him with what I couldn’t fit in my mouth. I was so fucking close. He pulled me up slightly making me whine as his mouth was now detached from me. “I want you to dum for me baby. I’m so close. I want you to cum in my face baby lemme taste you.” He growled out before going right back to work he quickly found my spot again making me moan around him even more. Before I knew it my eyes rolled back, my thighs squeezed his face and I basked in the feeling of pure pleasure, feeling what felt like jolts of lightning flow through my body. He slurped against me making me whimper. I continued to suck as I felt his cock twitch.

His warm essence filled my mouth as he groaned. “Fuck baby that was amazing.” He growled out making me hum. I finally sat up removing myself from on top of him. “Come lay down, let me take care of you.” He said and I laid down as he sat up. Somehow still hard he lined up with my entrance bending down and kissing me softly. I still involuntarily tensed making him pull back and look at me. “What’s wrong sweetheart?” He asked and my face flushed hotly. “I-I just haven’t done this in a while you are really big, I won’t lie and say I’m not nervous.” I said and he bent down against kissing me softly. “Honey, if you don’t want to do this we don’t have to.” He said softly and I shook my head. “No no I want to! I do! I’m just a little nervous that’s all.” I said and he nodded. He kissed down my jawline over to my ear. “I’ll be as gentle as you want me to be my love.” He said softly in my ear making me moan out. “You ready?” He asked and I nodded softly. He kissed along my neck slowly easing himself inside of me. I gasped loudly as he was finally in. “Too much?” He asked and I shook my head quickly. “No! Please don’t stop.” I moaned out gripping his biceps as he began to thrust into me. He felt so much bigger inside of me. I moaned loudly gripping onto his back. His slow deep thrusts gave me all I needed and more. “You like that baby? You like the way I fuck you?” He asked lowly in my ear making me moan louder. “Yes! Oh fuck I love it please don’t stop!” I screamed out making him growl. “God you feel like fucking magic you know that?” He panted out making me whine. He sat up pulling my legs over his shoulders making me gasp out. He sped up his thrusts the new angle making him feel like he was inside my stomach. I knew I was close already. But I wanted him to use that strength. “Harder baby! Fuck me harder please!” I moaned out as he growled. He picked began to slam into me the sound of skin slapping together filled the room. “You like it a little rough don’t you baby?” He said with a smirk making me whine with a nod. “Yesss I love it rough.” I moaned out making him groan. He brought his hand up my belly, then chest, resting it at my neck making me moan. His other hand reaching down and rubbing slow circles around my clit as he pounded into me. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum! Please! Please don’t stop!” I moaned out gripping his biceps digging my nails in. “Cum for me baby. Come all over me.” He moaned out and I my moans began to get higher as I felt myself start to shake. My toes curled, my eyes rolled back and the knot inside me tightened before releasing completely. Falling over the edge my body shaking softly. My body felt heavy as I still was reviving from my orgasm. I heard him growl before pulling out quickly, shooting his load all over my stomach. I breathed heavily my eyes closed from exhaustion. “You sit tight baby I’m gonna go get a washcloth and towel to clean up.” He said and I nodded holding my thumb up to him making him laugh.

——Next Day——

I was sleeping peacefully wrapped in Joe’s warm and cozy arms when all the sudden his phone started ringing. Joe jolted, quickly reaching for the smartphone on the nightstand. “Hello?” He said rubbing his eyes and sitting up softly. “Babygirl slow down. What’s wrong?” I heard him say and that quickly woke me up. It had to be Joelle. “We are on our way. Don’t worry about it.” He said getting out of bed. I hopped out of bed as well grabbing some leggings and a shirt. Slipping my pants on first, I looked over at Joe as he pulled some jeans on watching me change. His eyes traveled down to my naked chest as I slid my shirt on. “So what’s going on?” I asked and he snapped out of his trance. “Joelle is freaking out because she has that swim tryout and her mother is nowhere to be found but the twins aren’t at school she called the school and they said her mother picked them up.” He said and my jaw dropped. “So she left Joelle knowing that she has the varsity swim tryouts out?” I asked and he nodded. “She was torn up about it. We gotta go bring her.” He said and I nodded. I grabbed my purse jogging downstairs, I grabbed a cold purple Gatorade from the fridge, along with a beef stick and cheese stick. I’m sure she’s hungry and she needs some electrolytes to keep her focused. Joe came downstairs looking down at my hand smiling. “Bringin her a snack?” He asked and I nodded. “God I love you.” He said kissing my forehead as we walked out the door. “I love you too honey.” I said with a smile as we got into the car.

————

Once we got to the school Joelle quickly ran out and got in the car. “Thank you guys for coming.” She said softly and I handed her the snacks and drink k brought. “You’re the best Y/n.” She said ripping the packaging open and eating her snacks as we quickly made our way there. Once we were there we parked. “Alright babygirl good luck.” Joe said and she hugged him tight. “Could you guys come in and be there for me while I tryout?” She asked and Joe looked over at me. “You won’t feel like your friends think it’s lame your parents are there?” He asked and I smiled at the fact that he called us her parents. “No not at all I think it’ll help me actually.” She said and we shrugged. “Okay we are more than willing if you want us to hun!” I said and she smiled widely. We all got out of the car and walked in. We walked down to the pool and she walked over to the registration table and we walked over to the bleachers. Joelle got through registration and was givin a number to pin to her swimsuit. Joe smiled as he looked at her number. “96 god sign that was my number throughout college football.” He said making me smile. She was racing 3 others. As the line up, Joe reached over and grabbed my hand. I looked at him and he looked nervous as he was locked in on his babygirl. The shot went off and in they went. Joelle swam as hard as she could. Leading by a far amount but the time she touched the wall. “Yes that’s my girl.” I heard Joe whisper making me smile. “Alright. 96, incredible time. 13.3 seconds. Congrats you’ve made it to varsity.” The coach said and she quickly looked over at us with the biggest smile. I gave her a big smile back putting my thumb up making her smile. She got out of the pool going over and talking with the coach. She flagged us over and we walked over. “Nice to meet you both. You’ve got a very very talented girl on your hands, I think she can be something very very successful.” The coach said making me smile. “We are so proud of her. All her accomplishments this included. Thank you for noticing her potential.” Joe said and I nodded. “It’s hard to not notice it. Now you go home kid. I’ll see yah Monday bright and early for practice okay?” The coach said and Joelle nodded with a smile. She went to change coming out of the locker room a few minutes later. We walked outside and Joe turned and hugged Joelle tightly. “I’m so so proud of you.” He said and she smiled. “Sooo did you ask Y/n to be your girlfriend yet or were you just holding hands in the bleachers as a joke?” Joelle asked with a giggle. “It wasn’t a joke we are dating.” Joe said making me smile. “This is so sweet!” She said hugging me. I can’t believe that being a nanny turned into me meeting the love of my life!

✨THE END✨

#roman reigns #wwe smut #roman reigns smut #daddy #smut #wwe superstars

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melishade · 8 days

Text

Attack on Prime New Age Anthology: Eren Jaeger

Main Story

Return to that Sick Mind III

Return to that Sick Mind IV

Reminiscing

The Survey Corps finally talk about Eren Jaeger.

"One, two, three, four, five, six." Miko counted as she started doing push ups on the floor.

"Work out regiment?" Onyankopon asked.

"Well I have to stay in shape somehow," Miko spoke in a strained voice, "Being cooped up in this box sucks."

"Don't you where an invincible suit of armor?" Sasha recalled.

"Yeah, but doesn't mean jack shit when I'm trying to detain people," Miko retorted, "Majority of the time we have to capture enemies of the state alive for interrogation. Sometimes we do kill them, but we use guns."

Miko grunted and she started to do push ups with one hand. "Apex Armor's for like...emergency uses only. Like stopping an atomic bomb from going off or fighting against rogue Decepticons."

"I'd join you in your workout regiment, but I am a little busy," Hanji commented as they used their fork to stab a hollow spot in the floor boards.

"Yeah, tearing up your quarantine space," Rafael remarked, watching a class lecture online from his bed.

"Hey, my space. I can do what I want," Hanji proclaimed.

"News flash: it's the U.S. governments space. You will get in trouble," Rafael retorted.

"Well I was kidnapped, so-!" Hanji blew a raspberry at Rafael before going back to wiggling their fork into the floor boards.

"Mature!" Rafael shouted at them.

"Anyone else want to join me?" Miko asked as she stopped doing push ups and pushed her legs off the ground to do a handstand.

"I'm...not really that athletic," Willy answered.

"Hm." Miko looked him up and down. "I can see that, silver spoon."

"Excuse me?" Willy was confused at the idiom.

"Anyone else?!" Miko offered to the rest of them.

"Well, I can't really see you," Historia declared.

"Anyone across from me want to mirror me so Historia can see?" Miko asked.

"I can try," Sasha offered.

Jack ignored Miko's invite, staring at his phone, specifically the text messages from Ultra Magnus, telling Jack to ask about Eren. He didn't want to. He really didn't want to. He heard them say that they weren't even ready to talk about it, and the last thing that he wanted to do was push, but the video. The video has been bothering him since Ultra Magnus sent it. And Jack had an urge to know the truth. But what would learning entail? Would they get mad at him? Would they feel betrayed? Would they?

"You've been staring at that thing a lot lately," Armin remarked, causing Jack to look at him.

"Uh...yeah...I was just looking at texts," Jack explained, trying to not elaborate further.

"Oh really? Who's texting you?" Miko asked, causing Jack to internally swear.

Jack looked back at his phone. "I've been texting the Autobots and-!"

"What?!" Hanji's forked snapped into two at Jack's explanation, "Damn it!"

"You've been in contact with the Autobots since you got your phone back?" Armin asked, "Did they tell you anything about Optimus or Megatron?"

"What about Arcee?!" Sasha demanded, "Is she okay?!"

"Arcee's recovering. Wheeljack is pretty much done. Optimus and Megatron are...stable. I haven't been given too much about them. I think they don't want us to get our hopes up just yet," Jack explained.

"Jack, why didn't you tell us?" Rafael asked as he grabbed his water cup and took a sip.

Jack took a deep breath and sighed. "The Bots have been wanting to know more about your guys' world and about Megatron...they looked into his mind."

"WHAT?!" Miko screeched as she lost her balance on her hand stand and banged her ankle on the cabinet drawer while Rafael spat out his water.

"Oh fuck me!" Miko grabbed her ankle in pain.

"Who looked into his head?!" Rafael shot up.

"Bee," Jack reluctantly replied.

"WHAT?!" Rafael screamed even louder, "Why the hell would Bumblebee look into his mind again?! Megatron literally hijacked his body!"

"You think I know the answer to that?!" Jack yelled at Rafael.

"Can someone explain how the hell titans are able to look into each other's minds?!" Kenshin demanded.

"The cortical psychic patch," Jack explained, "It's a device created by Megatron's manic scientist Shockwave. You can use it to peer into the minds of anyone on the other end of the device and see their memories, and they can't make any alterations to the memories. But if you don't disconnect the device properly, it can fry your brain, or in Bumblebee's case, trap one of the users into the other's mind. It's how Megatron took over his body in the first place."

"...Can I see the device?" Hanji raised their hand.

"WHOA!" Miko screamed at them.

"What is wrong with you?!" Rafael yelled.

"Hanji!" Onyankopon scolded them.

"Fine! Such a touchy subject!" Hanji grumbled.

"If the memories seen can't be altered, then the Autobots should now know we're telling the truth," Armin surmised, "So what? Are they still going to ask us about him?"

Jack sighed in defeat. "They don't want to know about Megatron changing. They want to know about Eren."

Armin, Hanji, Sasha, and Historia grew tense at that.

"Magnus needs to compile a full report and need as much information on him as possible," Jack explained, "Apparently, Megatron says his feelings to Eren are negative-!"

"Yes, Megatron hates Eren's guts and is jealous of him. It's no secret," Hanji rambled.

"Ha?" Miko questioned.

"He sent me this." Jack pressed the play button on the recording from Megatron's mind and pressed it up against the glass. Everyone in the area either heard the audio of Optimus speaking, or also saw the visuals that came with the audio.

"...Optimus tried to convince Eren to stop before he started the Rumbling?" Willy was taken aback by the audio that played.

"Optimus always chooses peace first." Jack pulled the phone back and locked the phone, "But...if you guys don't want to provide an explanation, I can tell Magnus and try to push it off."

"...It does sound like he could approach us later on the topic," Historia assumed.

"Probably." Jack shrugged his shoulders. "Seriously, I can push it off-!"

"Let's just get it out of the way," Armin relented, sitting in the space where the glass and the wall met.

Jack felt guilty, decided to sit down on the bed and rub his knees. "Anyone here that doesn't know much about Eren?"

"I didn't really talk to Eren that much," Onyankopon confessed, "Although Yelena wanted to in order to try and get Eren to agree to Zeke's plan."

"Me and Gabi have known him as an enemy," Colt explained.

"I...vilified him too," Willy reluctantly admitted.

"I only had interactions with Eren twice," Kenshin confessed, "The first time I was really just trying to mess with him because I noticed the way he was getting angry every time I talked to Mikasa. Second time, he had come to Hizuru with Wheeljack, and my dad asked him to come with me on a horse ride to the next town over. We had a interesting conversation about religion and god...I noticed how...easily agitated he got when we talked. How he succumbed to his anger whenever talking about something he hated or seeing someone he didn't liked...Maybe I should have said something when I was sending letters to Optimus..."

"...Eren used to be quite passionate about killing all of the titans and freeing humanity when we were training together," Historia explained, "He hated them with a passion. But...when we learned about the truth about humanity, it really messed with him. The passion and fire he had in his eyes began to dim....There was a situation with the power of the titans. Eren had the powers of the Founding Titan, but couldn't use it because he wasn't of royal blood. I have royal blood, but if I were to take the Founding Titan, I would have been a prisoner of the vow renouncing war. But I could still make contact with Eren and activate some memories...Eren came to me one night...afraid...he said he was seeing things and wanted to touch my hand in order to activate the power. When he did, he just...shut down completely...and left...I don't think he was the same after that. And I blame myself for it."

"...We used to call him a 'suicidal maniac'." Sasha chuckled sadly at the memory, "Cause he would always try to get himself killed when trying to do dangerous things. Maybe when we thought humanity was extinct, it could have been considered honorable or just straight up reckless. But...he went off on his own on a foreign continent, planned an attack against world leaders without talking to us first...he attacked us...and told Mikasa he hated her. And he..."

Sasha quickly wiped her tears. "Why the hell would he kill Connie? They were close, and Connie only had us left. His whole village was turned into titans. We were his family, and Eren just killed him. I don't understand."

"...I wish I could have understood too." Hanji confessed, their efforts to pry the floorboard open long forgotten, "I used to do experiments with Eren to help him figure out his titan powers. I have a bombastic personality though, and I can push on things if I'm really passionate about it. Optimus usually had to keep me in check and get me to respect Eren's boundaries. Eren...used to be a good kid. He was passionate about joining the Survey Corps. He still wanted to do the experiments with me to find out about his powers. I thought he trusted me....I thought he trusted Optimus. Optimus seemed to be the only one who could really reign him in. Eren used to hate him, and one day he suddenly begged Optimus to start teaching him how to fight. Hell, Optimus apparently told us that Eren called him 'Dad' one time."

Hanji chuckled in defeat. "But what do I know? I mean, Eren activated the Rumbling. He took out my eye and stabbed Optimus and broke his mask. Some 'mad scientist' I am. Right?"

Jack turned his attention to Armin, and he saw him curl up into a ball and turn his head away from the glass. "I think...I can send this over to Magnus to get him to leave you guys alone for the time-!"

"Eren was my first friend," Armin confessed, "I used to get picked on a lot when I was younger for being weak, but I always refused to run from those fights. Eren actually spotted me one day and asked me why I didn't fight. And I basically told him I didn't run away. That facing the danger was my way of fighting. He asked me my name, and later he brought me to his home to eat food there. He later took me home with his dad and we just became friends after that."

"If you don't mind me asking, how does Mikasa play into this?" Rafael asked, "She's close to Eren too, right?"

"I don't think that's a good thing to-!"

"When Mikasa was nine, her parents were murdered right in front of her, and she was going to be sold into sexual slavery," Armin cut Hanji off. Everyone except the Survey Corps grew mortified at this information, "Eren managed to go after her and kill two of the kidnappers, while Mikasa found the will to kill the third one. Grisha and Eren brought her home and made her part of the family."

"...dude," Miko could only muster.

"So...why was Eren angry all the time?" Rafael asked again, wanting to change the topic.

"It wasn't always like that. When we were younger, Eren was pretty apathetic as a kid. He didn't really have any dreams or goals he wanted to obtain...that wasn't until I showed him about the outside world. Learning about the outside world was forbidden in the walls, but my grandpa had a book on it and I wanted to show Eren. I was excited to show Eren, and it was the first time I've really seen excitement on Eren's face."

Armin smiled a little at the memory. "We wanted to go see the outside world, and Eren wanted so badly to join the Survey Corps to do it. He wanted to fight all the titans and not live the rest of his life behind those walls. But...revenge later became apart of it. When...when the Warriors attacked Shinganshina, Eren's mom was eaten by a titan right in front of him, and he wanted nothing more than to eradicate the titans from the world."

"We joined the Trainee Corps when we were twelve. We were orphans at that age and military training was the only real option for us to take. We trained together, made new allies and friends, but when the Warriors attacked again, and I almost got eaten by a titan, Eren jumped in and saved my life, getting eaten right before my eyes. I don't really know how Eren awakened his powers. Maybe because he got injured before he was eaten. I don't know. Optimus had grabbed me in that moment and taken me away from the danger in my hysteria. But even though, Optimus and Eren worked together to stop the titan invasion. Optimus was one of the first people to show any real compassion to him when everyone was scared of him for his powers. He treated him with kindness and civility. I think Eren looked up to Optimus because he didn't have any other parental guidance. Optimus listened to him and made him feel heard."

Armin didn't know why he was rambling. He didn't know why he was talking too much, but he just wanted to get all of this off of his chest. Get rid of it and not talk about it ever again. "But...there were so many things that I missed...or chose not to notice. When we overthrew the government. Eren wanted to take his own life and I didn't notice. But it was Megatron of all people that did. He noticed and stopped Eren from taking his life. And then my best friend who I wanted to see the world with was going to die in eight years because of the titan curse. And there was nothing that I could do about it. And the outside world we dreamed of never existed, and it was full of other people that wanted us gone."

Armin laughed bitterly. "But I wanted peace. Optimus wanted peace. We all wanted peace. But..." Armin remembered those words that were told to him. Told to him in the Paths by him. "Eren didn't believe that peace was possible. I think with his powers, he saw futures that were coming into fruition, and conflict kept happening over and over again...I don't think Eren saw a point in making peace anymore, and just wanted to act selfishly to try and see the world I showed him in that book all those years ago.”

Armin started to cry. "And I...refused to notice or even do anything about it. I kept giving Eren the benefit of the doubt. So much so that, once again, Megatron was warning us that Eren was dangerous and needed to be dealt with. Megatron went out of his way to save us and warn us and I didn't listen because I didn't want to believe that my best friend was capable of such cruel and horrible things. And I hate him! I hate that he tried to destroy everything out of selfishness! That he told Mikasa he hated her! That he killed millions of people and Connie! But some part of me still cares about him and I hate that it does! But all I feel is hatred for him! Isn't that so hypocritical of me?! That I want Megatron to live, knowing what he's done and how it's so much worse than Eren, but hate my own best friend for following the exact same thing that Megatron did?!"

Armin froze when he saw everyone staring at him in shock. Armin finally noticed the tears streaming down his face and rubbed them away.

"Tell Ultra Magnus, that I don't want to talk about Eren anymore." Armin stood up, "Never again."

Armin walked over to the bathroom and shut the door behind him, leaving everyone to sit in the uncomfortable silence.

"Yeah, let's make it a rule to not speak about Eren anymore, especially since the wounds are still fresh." Hanji pointed to the bandages around their eye.

"Yep." Rafael said.

"Totally." Miko agreed.

"...Got it." Jack relented. He stared at his phone and type one final text before throwing it aside.

I should have never asked about him.

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tslightninginabottle · 5 months

Text

We Are Reputation

Or, An Argument For The Reformation of Community Subculture

Two Days Ago The Tortured Poets Department for Taylor Swift dropped. I have friends who like Taylor Swift. I have friends who love her. I’ve tried to explain to them what this album makes me feel and the more commentary I see online from Twitter, Threads, TT… I feel like, while no one needs my opinion, I want to say it online. So this post is going to be long. If you don’t want to read it, if you don’t care, scroll away. It’s anonymous, because at the end of the day, I doubt I’ll come back to this blog.

I've shifted between posting or deleting for days. This is not very well edited. It's mostly rambling and I understand that. Some points may be connected vaguely. It might seem like I'm contradicting myself. It's messy and raw, and I'm just tired. But if I’m going to do it at all. I’m going to do this as right as I can.

Thus it’s in the form of an academic essay. Unlike other Academic essays, it is not riddled with an intense amount of quotes or sources. This is an opinion piece. But I think for the sake of the TTPD release, the structure is very… fitting.

Introduction (I.E. the TLDR for those of you who don’t understand how an academic paper is structured)

Taylor Allison Swift, has been Taylor Swift (capital T, capital S, with the TM brand symbol) since the age of 16 years old. She has gone through a cycle of expectations three times, and now she is tired. She is begging her fans to listen, and many of them refuse to do so. She is capable of creating great art with great vulnerability, we as fans are no longer equipped to handle it. Ultimately there is a chance that she is afraid of shaping her own ability, because of us. The only way we as a fandom can change is if we redefine our community now before it’s too late. And if she stops after album 13 it will not because she does not want to, it will be because we have destroyed her.

Taylor Swift (TM)

For those who are reading this, and have made it thus far, chances are you know who Taylor Swift is. Whether that means you know where she grew up (Christmas Tree Farm), when she moved to Nashville (14), the names of her cats, her mother’s medical history, secret sessions, VMAs, easter eggs, accidents, eating disorders, a myriad of too many details that we know about a person we have never met, and the loves of her life. Whether this is friends or relationships, you probably know, all of their names. How each one came and went in her life. Through songs and through tabloids, screaming her name, screaming their names, trying to defend her honor when the world calls her childish for only singing about the heartbreak. You know. Thus, this message is to you: for all you know about Taylor Swift, have you stopped to think of who Taylor Swift is? Truly? Not projecting your own thoughts onto her. How using your long list of check boxes and check marks and “I’ve been here this long and I’m a better fan because I know this much.” Have you, do you, know her? Because I don’t.

When I got my first iPod in 2006, I had five songs on it that I bought with my own money: Thnks fr th Mmrs, Umbrella, Fergilicious, Our Song, and Tear Drops on My Guitar. In 2008 I had my who family memorize the lyrics to YBWM because we listened to it too often. I saw the 2009 VMAs happen live on television. In 2010 I was screaming Mean in the shower when I had no reason to; I was happy. In 2012, I got my choir to sing a mashup of IKYWT. In 2014, I was racing down the aisles of Target at Midnight to get 1989. I was a bystander during Snakegate. I was sitting in my car in 2017 reading potentially my favorite prologue I’ve ever seen. Then I was subsequently let down by the album as a whole. I was likewise disappointed in 2019. When Folklore came out, it was the first album I ever sent to my non-tailor swift friends. They loved it. I did it again with Evermore. Midnights came out and I sat in my living room with my brother and his girlfriend, screaming, talking, the first listen party I ever had where it was not just me alone. When TTPD came out, I was alone again.

Don’t come for me and say I’m not a real fan. It’s okay to admit disappointment. I never expected her to change to my will, however. I never yelled about it online. I simply accepted that it wasn’t for me and moved on, waiting to hear the next thing to see if it was. I stood by her, not because I loved her or I idolized her, but because I resonated with her, and sometimes that resonating wasn’t perfect but I accepted that.

Or maybe do call me a fake fan. I really don’t care what you think of me. I just need you to know that I’ve seen this. I know this. I know what you know, if not more. But all the same, despite me reading the tabloids, reading the magazines, having the posters, listening to all the music, I have never thought I actually knew Taylor Swift. And yet…

There are people online right now, being critical about this album. Some say it sounds bland, the same as what has come before but not as electric and ground breaking. Some say she needs an editor. Others say she is trying to recreate catching lightning in a bottle and failing. There are those online who are giving the paternity tests to the songs right now, proving to me that you never bothered to actually read, let alone understand what TS is saying to you.

You were too focused on “If I only hung out with my female friends, people couldn’t sensationalize or sexualize that-right? I would learn later on that people could and people would.” That you MISSED: “I had become the target of slut-shaming-the intensity and relentlessness of which would be criticized and called out if it happened today. The jokes about my amount of boyfriends. The trivialization of my songwriting as if it were a predatory act of a boy crazy psychopath, The media co-signing this narrative. I had to make it stop because it was starting to really hurt. / It became clear to me that for me there was no such thing as casual dating, or even having a male friend who you platonically hand out with. If I was seen with him, it was assumed I was sleeping with him. And so I swore off hanging out with guys, dating, flirting, or anything that could be weaponized against me by a culture that claimed to believe in liberating women but consistently treated me with the harsh moral codes of the victorian era.”

Go reread the Reputation prologue for me real quick. Or actually better yet, here:

Here’s something I’ve learned about people. We think we know someone, but the truth is that we only know the version of them they have chosen to show us. We know our friend in a certain light, but we don't know them the way their lover does. Just the way their lover will never know them the same way that you do as their friend. Their mother knows them differently than their roommate, who knows them differently than their colleague. Their secret admirer looks at them and sees an elaborate sunset of brilliant color and dimension and spirit and pricelessness. And yet, a stranger will pass that person and see a faceless member of the crowd, nothing more. We may hear rumors about a person and believe those things to be true. We may one day meet that person and feel foolish for believing baseless gossip. This is the first generation that will be able to look back on their entire life story documented in pictures on the internet, and together we will all discover the after-effects of that. Ultimately, we post photos online to curate what strangers think of us. But then we wake up, look in the mirror at our faces and see the cracks and scars and blemishes, and cringe. We hope someday we'll meet someone who will see that same morning face and instead see their future, their partner, their forever. Someone who will still choose us even when they see all of the sides of the story, all the angles of the kaleidoscope that is you. The point being, despite our need to simplify and generalize absolutely everyone and everything in this life, humans are intrinsically impossible to simplify. We are never just good or just bad. We are mosaics of our worst selves and our best selves, our deepest secrets and our favorite stories to tell at a dinner party, existing somewhere between our well-lit profile photo and our drivers license shot. We are all a mixture of our selfishness and generosity, loyalty and self-preservation, pragmatism and impulsiveness. I've been in the public eye since I was 15 years old. On the beautiful, lovely side of that, I've been so lucky to make music for living and look out into crowds of loving, vibrant people. On the other side of the coin, my mistakes have been used against me, my heartbreaks have been used as entertainment, and my songwriting has been trivialized as 'oversharing'. When this album comes out, gossip blogs will scour the lyrics for the men they can attribute to each song, as if the inspiration for music is as simple and basic as a paternity test. There will be slideshows of photos backing up each incorrect theory, because it's 2017 and if you didn't see a picture of it, it couldn't have happened right? Let me say it again, louder for those in the back... We think we know someone, but the truth is that we only know the version of them that they have chosen to show us. There will be no further explanation There will be just reputation.

You don’t know Taylor Swift. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve read her lyrics and you’re sure. I don’t want to hear another person say “She’s giving us her diary.” She is curating it. Editing it. She is a poet. She is shaping her image into exactly what she wants it to be. She is showing us the worst parts of herself on purpose, because it feels as if she is tired of hiding the full maltifaceted person that she is.

However, she is a marketing genius. She is a billionaire. She is not the girl next door, your very best friend, the girl you’d give your kidney to. You don’t know her. You don’t know anything about her relationships other than what she says on her songs — and the tabloids that are like 90% wrong anyway. We only know what she is giving us, analyzing the lyrics and coming up with more incorrect conclusions than correct. You don’t know her. You only know her reputation.

And every time you chant. Reputation! Reputation at her concerts, in the comments, in the theories, the more feral you are over it, the more you prove her point. At this point, it feels like people care more about her reputation than her. And it seems as if she’s tired of explaining it to us, because all we care about is the show. “Breaking down, I hit the floor. / All the pieces of me shattered / as the crowd was chanting “more!” (TTPD, ICDIWABH)

The Cycles of Hate

We all know the story of reputation. Snakegate. Kanye. Kim. The social media blackout. The comeback of a century. The KYS. I wish Taylor Swift was Dead. She’s just a bitch. I knew she couldn’t be trusted.

Fun fact. That was Taylor Swift after 1989. Taylor Swift during the Era’s tour could eat that Taylor for breakfast. Her fame is astronomically bigger, full on universal. If you didn’t know this, IDK where you’ve been, but it’s the truth. We’ve seen her grow from that It Girl Popstar. To THE Generation defining popstar. Taylor Swift was named Artist of the Decade for the 2010s because she was the artist of the decade. And to the haters out there, this post is not meant for you. I don’t want to hear it. You can in fact walk down the street and start the song Love Story and people will know the song. Even in other countries. People know Taylor Swift (TM).

In the cycle of popstars, newer shiny popstars often replace the older ones. And Taylor Swift, one day, will be no exception. The difference is, unlike most of those other women and men— I’d dare to say that none have gone through the torment that Taylor Swift has. In 2009, after the VMAs, the world turned against Taylor. Publicly and through the media, people were criticizing Kanye West. But Taylor said herself that she thought people were booing her on the stage. There were think pieces about how she ‘wasn’t good actually.’ This is when the true hate train began for Taylor Swift. The: she only writes about love and boys. The: she dates too many of them. The: she doesn’t write her own songs (even though her whole brand was built on it). When Taylor Swift released Speak Now, it included the song Long Live. Based on the lyrics, Taylor thought this album could be the end of her career. “Will you take a moment? / Promise me this / That you’ll stand by me forever / But if God forbid fat should step in / And force us into a goodbye / If you have children someday / When they point to the pictures / Please tell them my name.”

I like to tell my friends that I see Taylor Swift has having three cycles in her career so far. We are living in the third. This isn’t based on music genre, completely. Because for argument sake, Taylor has touched on many subgenera. But it is based on Main Genre, and the cycle of vitriol towards Taylor Swift —i.e.l over saturation.

Cycle 1: Debut - Red; Country

Cycle 2: 1989 - Lover ; Pop

Cycle 3: Folklore - TTPD; Folk/Folk Pop

The Cycle goes as follows: Taylor Swift has massive world breaking success after catching lightning in a bottle. People get outraged. She has to respond, in order to defend herself. The world gets more angry and irritated. TS is everywhere. There are horrible things being said online, everywhere in every way. People want her to DISAPPEAR. She writes an album for herself, and the fans cherish it. Then she says, it’s time for something new. The Cycle repeats.

To most, non-fans, that I have met or seen online. They seem to agree that Taylor has only ever had three “good” albums: Fearless, 1989, Folklore. What do all three have in common? They were smash successes. Before Midnights, they were the only three that won AOTY. People around the world know their songs. She has been given critical acclaim for them by people who don’t listen to Taylor Swift. They are all sonically cohesive. They are all lyrically creative, and musically engaging. And, most importantly, they were genre defining (at least for her).

I ignore Debut here, because Debut was her setting the ground work, and while Debut and Fearless are similar and close, it was not Debut that started the cycle. Debut started her career. For this reason, Debut classifies as an Album 0. It is the album zero, ground zero by which the whole cycle was built.

In the Cycle that I’ve defined, after the smash success for Album 1, there is a string of vitriol and some sort of incident. She then writes an album response either to it, or about it, trying to prove herself as an artist and that she deserves what she has and where she is: Speak Now, Reputation, Midnights. Each one of these albums are Taylor Writing to prove herself, as being allowed to exist, and create art, her snapping back in some way. This may be the most esoteric in regards to Midnights, but the concept is the same. The big vitriol after Folklore/Evermore was that she could write deep songs, but not deep pop songs. So she made a concept album about the sleepless nights of her past and made an anthology of well crafted lyrics and considerations, thoughts and prayers, and proved she could do it. Midnights shouldn’t have gotten AOTY. It was good, a world wide smash success, but that’s because she has a bigger fan base no than she did years ago. It wasn’t lightning in a bottle. It wasn’t genre defining. It was a good pop album. But ultimately, Midnights is an Album 2, it is a continuation.

Now many people may say, but Evermore was the album after Folklore. It wasn’t. It was written at the same time as Folklore. She didn’t have time to process anything. It is, for all intents and purposes, a double drop with Folklore. The two are one, the same mindset. Midnights was different.

In the case of Album 2 it is, or was, always a failure. Before Midnights, at least, with both reputation and Speak Now, even though she poured her heart out and made excellent music, and yet for some reason it did not receive the same accolades or awards — or maybe was even ignored by the general public. She did not catch lightning in a bottle again. I would argue this is the same for Midnights, but the difference is that her fan base is so much larger than it was before.

Now, after Album 2, there is always the ramp up. The actual over saturation. It grows and grows and grows and the world begins to fully hate Taylor Swift. Yes, I know Snakegate had everyone turn against her, but look at the way people said things to her during the Lover era. Once again she thought it was the end after Reputation, that her career was over. Red, Lover, and TTPD are Album 3s, or the “this one is for the fans” album as the fans like to say. The “You don’t get it because you don’t understand Taylor like I do, album.” The Album Taylor writes for herself. Red was the only breakup album. The heart wrench album. The sing it and scream it in your car album. Lover was, at the time, unapologetically, a be you album. The be in love, be happy, it’s okay to be “me” album. TTPD is the I’m falling apart, please see me album. It is the I’m going to have to be okay on my own album. The I’ve healed and move on from this part of my life, but you don’t know me, album. And each and every time general society says it is not great, fans say that they simply don’t understand it because they’re not fans.

Rinse Repeat.

Album 1: The Critical, Genre Smash Success. Album 2: Is the Critically overlooked Concept Album. Album 3 is the: This one is for the “Fans” (herself), Album that is critically panned.

Dear Reader

Right quick, go reread the lyrics for dear reader for me. Follow that up with YOYOK and ICDIWABH. Come back to me when you’re done. Good? Let’s go.

Are you listening yet? Are you hearing her yet? Taylor Swift fans are realizing this now, but TTPD was written for Taylor and it was written for us. The fans. We don’t know her. We don’t know her life. She is begging us, on her knees. Crying to us. She is messy. She is far from perfect. She makes bad choices. She is not a good person. She is simply a person and she is asking us to stop the idol worship.

“Please. / I’ve been on my knees. / Change the prophecy. / Don’t want money. / Just someone who wants my company. / Let it once be me. / Who do I have to speak to. / About if they can redo. / The prophecy?”

And you may say, but that song is about love. It is. It’s about us. The greatest love Taylor has ever known. She said that. To us, at the Eras tour. We are the longest relationship she’s ever had. We’ve been there with her through the good and the bad. The ugly and the sad. The beautiful and the change.

“You, who saw that I reinvent myself for a million reasons. And that one of them is to try my very best to entertain you. You, who have had the grace to allow me the freedom to change.” (1989 TV)

But are we?

“This is a story about coming into your own. And as a result… coming alive. I hope you know that you’ve given me the courage to change. I hope you know that who you are is who you choose to be, and that whispers behind your back don’t define you. You are the only one who gets to decide what you will be remembered for.” (1989)

What is the legacy we are currently leaving behind for her?

“I want to be remembered for the things that I love, not the things that I hate, not the things that I’m afraid of, not the things that haunt me in the middle of the night. I just think, you are what you love.” (Daylight, Lover)

Stop and think. For a moment. Every time we bring those men up. We bring the possible relationships up. We bring the heartache up. We attack the people online. When we hold her to impossible beauty standards, and impossible moral standards. We speculate and wonder and question… yes, there is a level of media literacy that comes from asking these questions. But there is a vocal majority, a large subsection of people online who are doing it again. Who are asking when she’s going to get married and have babies. Who are trying to burn Joe or Matty or Harry or any of the other boys before to the ground. Who are taking us back to 2012, the “she only writes about hs and heartbreak.” The fans who hang on her every word, every breath, and aren’t allowing her to change.

Taylor Swift (TM) has always been about change. But how many times have you seen or heard people scream, “this isn’t like folklore?” Some are like, they’re not real Taylor Swift Fans. But they’re comparing everything to it. And they are, her fans, and they’re not allowing.

Some of you may be like, but other artists don’t change. Don’t branch out. Write the same thing over and over and over, and maybe she wants to do that. Yet, girly has shown us time and time again that she actually likes challenging herself to write other genres. She likes doing it. If she didn’t. Reputation would have been more like 1989. Lover would have been more like 1989. Folklore and Evermore wouldn’t exist. I do think there is an argument to be had that expecting her to change and forcing her to do it is wrong, but I’m saying that we aren’t even accepting the chance that she may want to change for herself. Whether that means into a stable sound that never changes from album to album or into a wildly different genre. RN the FANS are dictating what should and shouldn’t be, and that’s… messy.

How many of you breathed in relief at 17-31 because it sounded like Folklore and Evermore? How many of you liked 1-16 because it was like Midnight’s sister? How many of you were waiting to hear the heartbreak about Joe? How many of you have given the songs paternity tests? It’s only been 48 hours. You can be honest.

We are Taylor Swifts greatest love, if things are to be assumed, and the muse in TTPD is strangely many people in one — because we are a part of the problem now. She had to plead manic insanity to us, in her prologue for this album.

How many of you look at the rerecordings and have forgotten the reason for them? I mean, I know you know the reason, but it’s not supposed to be a count down, doubting everything, pushing her, pressuring her, to give us her art. She is trying to reclaim her art, for herself. It’s called Taylor’s Version. Not the audience version. Yet, you scream Reputation at her concerts. Reputation. Reputation. Give us everything you are Taylor. Give us, your love Taylor. Entertain us Taylor.

All she has left are her name and reputation. She’s already given away her reputation once. Do you think she wants to give it away again after she’s finally reclaimed it? Do you think she wants to give her name away again? When it’s finally her’s?

And don’t get me wrong I think that reputation (TV) and Taylor Swift (TV) will come, and the world will be excited for the vault tracks, and be angry that it doesn’t sound identical to the original. And feel betrayed that it’s not 100% perfect the exact way they wanted. They’re tired of her failing them. Gaslighting her into believing she’s not good enough. Threatening to quit her and leave her behind because she’s disappointing them, by doing the one thing she’s good at but it’s not good enough anymore.

Oh sorry, not the world.

Her fans. The love of her life.

Critical Critique

The thing about giving good feedback and critique is that it needs to be helpful. You can’t simply say, I hate this, and expect someone to use it.

Taylor Swift is not above critique. She is not perfect. She is a human being, it’s legitimately impossible to be perfect. Yet we ask her to be perfect. Now I’m not saying perfection with saying one thing (that she cares about social justice) and then doing the opposite. I’m not saying she’s above critique of her private jets or being a billionaire. These can all be valid critiques. I think we should be critical of her billionaire status, and white feminist tendencies, and marketing exploitation. This is looking at an idol and holding them to human standards that you may have for yourself.

I don’t think that being critical and holding someone accountable is toxicity. I do think it’s toxic tho, that we are starting to read into everything. Search for clues in everything. Showing up to weddings we were never invited to. Stalking her across venues. (And I don’t mean the plane guy, I mean you weirdos who show up at her house and her recording studio and scream at her to tell you about her latest breakup). Looking over photos, like you’re a tabloid editor from 2010, like “Where’s the ring?” “Is that a baby bump?”

And when she tells us the truth we say no, I don’t believe you. When we, her fans, hear her say with her whole chest “I’m not perfect, stop defending me.” and we turn around and say… mmmmmm I’m not going to do that. You are my perfect little baby who can do no wrong. You must be confused. You must be shocked. Let me correct you. She knows she’s making bad choices and she has a whole marketing team to fix what she does.

Taylor Swift fans have been demonized by media as ravenous brain dead worshipers, and in some ways we are. We defend her at every turn, at everything she does and justifies it, but this is more than that. And yet is also only that. I am defending her when she doesn’t need me to. But more than that, I feel like I need to call out the fandom cuz we are toxic. We have secret sessioners leaking albums. We are gate keeping. We are screaming at each other when people don’t agree with are arbitrary and subjective opinions. We say that the real critiques of her work aren’t actually listening to her— they are, you’re not listening to the critiques. Like the 1830s line. There are so many ways the same sentiment could have been written, better. No one is saying Taylor is a racist. They’re saying she needed someone to check her on the line and be like, is there a different way to say this?

To everyone we talk to, we are hated. There are think pieces about how toxic we are to others online, how we attack everyone who dares to actually be critical of her. How we attack eachother, like the snake eating its tail. We defend her like its or dying breath and then turn around to Taylor and say, look I was a good fan, give me what I want and only what I want. People hate us. Outsiders hate us. Casual fans hate us. We hate each other. Taylor swift says she sometimes hates us.

Welcome to the age of Aquarius, the downfall of celebrity. We shouldn’t worship people, like idols and gods. However, we should judge people as people and we aren’t doing that either, to the random person on the street saying “see me” to the girl with the lyrics crying “hear me.”

Social Media Literacy

Hate Taylor swift if you want to, whether that is because she’s over saturated or because you have grown disillusioned. But Taylor swift has built a brand about being relatable, and as much as people may say she’s manufacturing it now, I don’t think she is trying to. I personally think she’s trying to do it the way she always has, and it’s backfiring.

Not because she’s less relatable, but because we as a society have lost what it means to accept other people. We are holding everyone to a high near high level of perfectionist accountability, where you must be perfect and never change, and never make a mistake. There is a fact to be said that billionaire mistakes hurt millions of people, and that everything you do cosigns another terrible thing. However, we are not building a community. We are not holding people accountable and then pulling them back into the community to help them change their mindset. We are not creating a network of support, we are snipping away at the web at every single point. Saying, you’re wrong, and isolating further. And while this can be said about everything and everyone, it is more apocalyptic for Taylor Swift, because her entire brand is a microcosm of society.

This is happening to everyone, not just Taylor swift. Everyone. Nuance is gone. Grace is gone. Understanding, just like media literacy and critical thought, is disappearing. People are making value assessments of others based on the media they consume. And that alone should be a concern for all of us.

We are saying if you aren’t perfect, you are kicked to the outside. Immediately. No remorse. We are saying, if you aren’t exactly the way I think is morally right, just, or perfect, you are forbidden from anything ever again. And I’m not talking about Taylor Swift. I’m not talking about critique. I’m talking about us. The fans. Who attack each other. Who demonize each other. Who send hate threats to each other. Who call each other crazy. Who joke about other’s demise.

Oh, that’s just an issue of Taylor’s brand. No. This is a wider spread issue, it’s just magnified in the Swiftie fandom, because the swiftie fandom has always been a parasocial relationship with Taylor. From the day she began on Myspace, the Swiftie fandom has broken down clues together, kept secrets together, been a community together, in a way that most others have not been. And it’s falling apart, just as Taylor swift’s brand of relatability. Because we as a society, and we as a fandom have snipped away the entire network of support. The only way down is through, and there is no one to catch us at the end of the fall.

Parasocial Relationships, have been seen to become toxic very fast, as soon as a person thinks that they have some sort of control or are heard by the person they follow. For the longest time, Swifts staid back, followed the clues like rabbits and it was a game. She left us a puzzle, and we went to solve it. Now we are trying to solve puzzles that don’t exist. We made the game bad. We have made it awkward for everyone. The Parasocial relationship we have always had with Taylor, which was kind and filled with space and grace, has fallen apart. We are the worst parts of toxic parasocial relationships.

We are screaming for more. Ignoring what has been given. Skipping too fast and onwards to the next thing. All while saying, this thing that you’ve given me? It’s not absolutely perfect. Do more. Be better. Oh but that’s too many now. How about this one thing instead.

I know with my heart of hearts that when Reputation (TV) comes out. It’s going to be hell on fire. Because there is such a pent up image of this special album in everyone minds, that they keep saying things that are wildly untrue. That it’s going to be release randomly, because “there will be more explanation. There will just be reputation.”

Go read the prologue AGAIN. I’ll wait.

Don’t Blame Me, Love Made Me Crazy

We are not capable of listening anymore. And I know that many people of the world won’t read this, won’t understand this, won’t even know it exists.

But we, are the most toxic love affair that Taylor Swift has ever had.

It was good, when it was good. But we’ve turned on her time and time again. And there are some of us, myself included, who will say, we’ve been here the whole time! Supporting her, even during lover when her concerts were at the lowest. But.

We are tearing each other apart. We are tearing her apart. We are holding her to impossible standards we don’t even hold ourselves too. Our very real critiques of her are being ignored and some fans say it’s just hate instead. Critiques to her, become massive amounts of backlash at her, that is visceral and appalling. We say, “I love you.” She says, “It’s ruining my life.”

We say we love you, and then turn around and say but I hated that. We say we support you but we need “MORE.” We say take a break, but you had better not disappear on us. We say we want you to be in love, but on our terms. We want you to be happy, but the way we want.

And it has gotten more and more and more, as she has skyrocketed to the Eras Tour level of fame she has right now. Our reactions to her are millions of times over across multiple countries. Where people are saying, she shouldn’t have become a public figure if she couldn’t handle it. She shouldn’t have opened up her life to us and written her songs like a diary, if she couldn’t handle it. She shouldn’t be a human being if she can’t handle being hated for being human. She created this parasocial relationship, it’s her fault it’s toxic. She talks about the men and love, she should handle when we judge her for it. You wouldn’t even judge your friends. Will you say, that’s just the way they are? And ignore the ways they are hurting you and others? And if you did, will you hold grace for them to change and grow or will you cut them out immediately and leave them isolate? Will you forget community?

And it’s all divisive and anonymous online. This virtual signaling, and hate towards one person, when you can’t even hold your own families accountable. When you can’t even hold yourself accountable. When every moment that this relationship of us to Taylor continues, it proves that we are the worst parts of humanity.

I’m not immune to that. This post is antagonistic and anonymous. I see the irony. I know the hypocrisy.

And there are reasons the jokes aren’t funny about us on the internet, but that they’re true. They’re true, what outsiders and non-fans think of us. We are a rapid fan base that gets worse and worse each year. We are not only the good parts, the friendship bracelets and joy of the eras tour. We are all the terrible parts as well. We are the racist, homophobic, terrible parts. We are getting worse and worse the more and more we love her, that we are starting to scare people even more than we ever had. It’s my way, or you’re out. And if you, another fan, don’t agree with me then you’re not actually a fan at all.

Some people, fans, have said that the Eras Tour feels like the end. That she’s saying goodbye. She burned down the lover house. TTPD is alienating people. Taylor Swift is everywhere and she is so oversaturated that people are concerned.

And look. I can’t blame TS for what is happening right now. If she’s feeling alone. Afraid. Lost. Unsure what will happen if she puts one foot out of line. She’s given us this messy album that is filled with the dirty and worst parts of her thoughts and feelings. It’s not edited it’s raw. It’s angry. It’s saying “Fuck you.” Because we made her crazy. And I’m pretty sure we sure as hell aren’t letting her feel like she can change. She can’t trust us to let her change or to become something else. She can’t even trust us to be there as a support network.

Even if the Cycle dictates that she should do it.

Maybe she’s grown up. Maybe sh’s found her genre and want’s to stay here forever. Maybe Taylor is tired. Maybe she just needed to get all the emotions out and away so she can move on and be fully happy. Maybe she’s terrified of what will happen this time when she falls from grace. She saw it in 2009-2012. She saw it in 2016-2017.

I don’t know. I don’t know her. But I know this:

When you’re standing at the tallest peak, how far does the valley look? Especially when the wings you built through years of blood sweat and tears are burned by the very people who helped you make them.

There Will Be No Explanation. There Will Just Be Reputation.

We all know the iconic opening sequence from the Reputation Stadium tour. Where she took the media commentary and made it the opening. For years. Taylor has been in a war with the media and the powers at be. When the media slut shamed her. When the media made paternity tests. When the MEDIA said, look at this woman and all the stupid shit she does.

Guess what? The media loves her.

Taylor Swift reclaimed her reputation from the media in 2017.

But now who does she have to take it back from?

For as much as Taylor has made a commentary about how women are constantly told to reinvent themselves, to become something new and shiny, in this way and that way for “me.” The greatest changes Taylor has ever made in her music career have been for herself. 1989, was because she wanted to go Pop. Folklore was because she needed to process and try a new type of songwriting style.

And yet, now Taylor’s fans look at all her clothes and choices and say “ah this is a new era.” This is “reputation era coded.” The fans are now adding paternity tests to every single song. We are going after the exes online and in person. We are asking Taylor to reinvent herself constantly over and over and over to entertain us. We shout “MORE!” over and over again. The fans are feral for reputation. Ignore everything else.

And with TTPD she said, we need to chill that we don’t know her. That she’s going to make up her own choices and fuck up. And the line about “you should see your faces?” that is about US.

We, the fans, are now in the place of the media. We are the ones that are dictating her reputation in a way that she does not agree with. When Taylor Swift reclaims her reputation again, it will not be from the media, it will be from the fans itself.

We are now giving paternity tests. We are now the ones asking if she’s going to get married and when. We are the ones constantly wondering if she’s pregnant. WE are saying and doing and acting the same way that the media did for YEARS. When before we used to tell the media to back off and ignored it all. We have become the very thing we used to hate.

And now we, as fans are saying to Taylor Swift that she MUST “Be new to us, be young to us, but only in a a new way and only in the way we want. And reinvent yourself, but only in a way that we find to be equally comforting, but also a challenge for you. Live out a narrative that we find to be interesting, to entertain us, but not so crazy that it makes us uncomfortable.”

This time when Taylor Swift reclaims her reputation, she’s going to be reclaiming it for herself, from the men who stole it from her. From the media who dictated it. From the world. From her fans. For herself. (Taylor’s Version)

Lightning in a Bottle

I was always of the opinion that she’d continue making albums after 13. Now I am not sure. I think she’ll write music, but I think 13 might be it. There is a chance, she is preparing to keep coasting. Get 12 out while she’s still at the high. Ride out this Cycle longer than it should. Get 12 out to critical acclaim, face the fall and release 13, her Magnum Opus. Say goodbye for good. People will look at it and wonder what happened, who she is, but she’s been warning us since Long Live that this could happen.

However.

Taylor Swift is capable of bending lightning.

To many fans, each Taylor Swift Album is perfect. To some each album is something new that she hasn’t tried before. To me, Taylor’s albums come in the form of a cycle. Where, when she changes for herself and is embraced for that change, she is able to create something no one has ever done before. She defines a generation in a healthy and productive way.

She’s done it once with Country. She’s done it twice, with Pop. She’s done it thrice with Folk. In each instance she was raw, she was curated. She was honed in on the concept, on the lyrics, on the vulnerability, on the genre itself. Taylor Swift can capture lightning in a bottle when she’s trying an entirely new genre. When she goes all in on everything for the genre, in a new form, and learns and masters that form well. And most importantly, when she decides to make this leap of faith not because she’s reinventing herself to make the world entertained, but because she wants to make the change- the choice- for herself.

I’ve always hoped and prayed for that Rock album. I thought it would be 12 (or 11, in a world where Evermore was not Folklore’s sister/twin). I’ve always thought that if Taylor was going to catch Lightning in a bottle again it would be in rock. I don’t think we’ll ever get it. And that’s okay.

I always hoped that album 13 would be about us, the fans. The coming of age story of Taylor Swift. Her relationship with us and the music industry. The album that has pop and rock and country and folk. Songs that remind me of Girls Just Want to Have Fun, I Want to Dance With Somebody, and This Ones For the Girls. I hoped it would be for us. For her. For the love of it all. And album that said Long Live, with a capital TS, that touched on every era she ever did, recreating the sound perfectly. Into 13 perfect songs and not a song more. I doubt it’s going to happen. And that’s okay.

I won’t be disappointed. I’ll be here for the ride. I’ll critique her as much as I always have, and hold grace for her to change as a person. I’m going to build my community with the paradox of Tolerance in mind. And if I’m wrong and she continues after 13, I’ll be there too. But I think that right now, The Taylor Swift fandom is not in the place to be able to catch Taylor if she makes a jump, a change, a decision that is not tailored for them or considers them. We can't even talk with each other without getting into fights.

Ask yourself how much of our community is left:

When the parasocial relationships Taylor built, is weaponized against her and ourselves. Like some sort of awardshow, where you get a gold star for being the best.

When we are giving her a paternity test at every lyric.

When we see our faces at every new lyric.

When the games aren’t fun anymore.

When we scream more. More. More. More. But only the way I want and in the way I deem appropriate.

When her reputation has been stolen from her again. AGAIN by the people she trusted most.

When we only book mark her life by failures and endings. Gossiping like old women asking how did it happen this time?

When we won’t even remember ALL the things that she loves.

When that’s all she’s ever asked for us to remember her by.

When she says we, her fans, "are the love of my life."

But “The Story of Us, sounds a lot like a tragedy now.”

Because "the story isn't [hers] anymore."

Yet, we're all she’s ever wanted.

I think that with TTPD, she is processing but she's telling us, that this is it. She's going to make the first change of her life not knowing if we're going to support it.

Cycle 4 is coming. Whether that is with 12. 13. With the end of the Eras Tour. With the burning of the lover house on the first night of the Eras Tour. Cycle 4 will end the Cycles. Will end the Eras.

One more fall from from the precipice. But this time not from the public. Not from the media. From her fans. I think Taylor Swift is ready to take that leap with or without her fans. With or without the safety net. With or without the wings we built her that got her this far. One more fall from the pedestal. One more descent into the horrors that Taylor Swift has ever known. This time into uncharted waters, facing the one true love of her life. The change that is going to shatter the fandom.

What happens then?

Change

So how do we fix it? How do we, as a community, come together and fix this toxicity? Because we have to be the ones to do it. If we don’t do it now, then there is a chance we’ll never do it in the future. We have to change, and reclaim our own reputation as Swifties.

How? I wish I had all the answers, but I do have a place to start.

Stop sending death threats and hate and KYS to people you don’t agree with.

Stop arguing like you’re so smart because you understand her lyrics. If someone says they don’t interpret something the same way as you, maybe listen. There is no One Way to read a Taylor Swift song. There just isn’t.

Tolerance Paradox: Support differing opinions of your own. However, we can not accept intolerance. Those who wish to spread hate, those who wish to spread anger, we can’t support them. We have to call them out. We must call out the racists and the homophobes and the literal nazis and white supremacists who find our fandom home.

We must be critical of her AND our community. Whose voices are we not listening to? Take a self inventory on why the critique of her bothers you so much. Legitimately.

We must take inventory of what we have done in the past and take accountability for the ways we’ve hurt others.

We must stop asking for more, legitimately. Stop asking for more Folklore like albums. Stop asking for more 1989 like albums. Stop begging for reputation.

We must be kind to those who are new. Gatekeeping can only be so far as to keep the space a place of tolerance.

We must support each other in hard times, in times of need. Be the community that comes together to say, I have your back. We must start helping each other, legitimately.

We must hold our ground, and stop the leaks IMMEDIATELY.

Stop speculating, and I don’t mean analyzing of reviewing easter eggs. I mean speculating. We aren’t with her 24/hrs a day so stop acting like we should be.

Easter Eggs are only fun, when people aren’t having full break downs about being wrong. Maybe we should chill.

Hold space for your opinions to change and for others to change. Validate those changes, and the processing.

Remember our roots. We are the fandom who has stuck together through everything, who believes in the magic of connection. Draw those 13s on the back of your hands and make a wish. Long Live.

Ending

In the end, there is nothing great about this essay. I’m really not saying much to anyone. I'm saying this for myself because I'm changing the way I engage with Taylor Swift and other Swifties. I’m tired of creating a network of hate. I’m tired of feeling like I don’t belong in this community, because I am not perfect. Or because I don’t agree.

We, as fans, are the new enemy that we have always fought against.

I might not be able to fix everything, but I'm going to do my part to change the prophecy.

#taylor swift #the tortured poets department #ttpd #ts ttpd

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cakepopalice · 6 months

Text

Movie Star Levi x Fan Female Reader

I made this one on Wattpad. Like last time I just acknowledgment for being the one to make this. Enjoy!!

This is in modern day AU

(O/B/N) = Older brothers name

(Y/B/N) = Younger brothers name

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

Levi pov

“ Tch how many times do we have to retake this stupid scene?” I asked the fuckin director. It was five in the afternoon and at this time I would talk to a girl that I took a firm liking to. “ We're going to stop right here Levi since something is missing.” The director said I did my signature ‘tch’ then walked away to my trailer and I hoped that she was still online. I turned on my computer and logged in to the website and waited for her. It didn’t take long for her to respond.

Why were you late Levi? Did something happen? Tch the stupid director kept making me redo a stupid scene with a stupid girl. Oh….. What’s wrong? It’s nothing I’m just about to leave to go to California to visit family. Tch is that all brat?

I know that was not the only thing because the director decided to put on a meet and greet for the fans of the shity movie series that will be coming out soon.

Okay I’m also going to the meet and greet. Tch well can I get a pic of you so I know what you look like so I can find you brat.

Levi I already told you. I’m uncomfortable with the way I look.

I rolled my eyes and I was going to tell her what I say all the time to her but then my stupid agent came in and told me to come back. So I told her bye and that I hope to see her. I have been talking to that brat for three years now and I started to have feelings for the brat. `I hope I can see her soon` I thought as I went back to do the stupid scene again.

(Y/N) pov

I can believe it!!!! Not only do I get to see my family after being in college for 6 years and 2 more years with my job I get to see Levi!! I’ve had a crush on him for a long time but every girl would. I met Levi when I was looking for someone to talk to online and saw his profile and started to talk to him. At first I didn’t think that he was Levi the actor until I saw his pictures. We talked a lot but since we live in different places we had to make a schedule. Once I had all my stuff in my car I locked the door and got in the car and started to drive the five hours to California.

~5 hours later~

Finally I’m here in California even though it was what like 6:15 pm it felt like it was eight o’clock at night. I stopped in front of a giant mansion and before I even got out my older brother (O/B/N) opened the door for me exhausted. “ Hey little sis *pant* how was *pant* your ride here?” (O/B/N) asked me and panted like he ran a marathon but I knew it was (Y/B/N) doing. “ It was long but I’m happy I could make it home.” I said to him with a smile. “ You also came back to go to the meet and greet right?” (Y/B/N) asked as behind (O/B/N) causing him to jump and I was glad I was still in the car or he would cling on me to death. “ Stop blocking your sister from coming out of the car and go eat.” I heard my father say with a light chuckle. I got out and went inside and enjoyed the rest of the day with my family and unpacking my car. I can’t wait till the meet and greet!!!!!

(Meet and Greet day)

Levi pov

“Tch how long do we have to be here? I have better things to do.” I said to the director with hate. I just want to go and message (Y/N) and tell her about my shitty day. “ Sorry Levi but it will be two more hours then you can go.” the director said to me. I ‘tch’ then looked into the crowd with my blank expression then all of a sudden my phone buzzed and when I took it out I saw (Y/N) had sent me an image of something so I opened it and saw her picture with two males which I know were her brothers. I looked up from my phone and scanned the crowd for her and when I didn’t see her in the crowd I went to find her. Well until that stupid director told me to stay put because it has only been 35 minutes. Now I am pissed that I can't go and find that brat and ask her to be my girlfriend. I don’t know how long I stood there until I saw a (H/C) in the crowd. I couldn’t wait any longer so I left to go talk to her and I could hear that director yelling at me to come back but I ignored him. Everyone cleared a path for me since they know I hate when people crowded me and you can ask the six fans that crowded me. As I got closer her brothers told her to look behind her and when she did she blushed a little, casting her eyes down to the ground. Once I was right in front of her I tilted her chin up and kissed her. There was a ton of gasps and a few snickering but I didn’t care at all. When we pulled away she was a blushing mess which was cute. “ Hey (Y/N) want to be my girl?” I asked her in a monotone voice I use so much. She blushed and said ‘yes’ in a kind of whisper voice. My smirk grew wider then I pulled her into another kiss.

Soooooo Since this was on Wattpad first I'll write what I put at the bottom and if you like the little name I call the people on Wattpad then I'll start using it here as well. Oh by the way Denis is a fake boyfriend in my other Awful story.

Hey my little cakes!!!! I’m so sorry for not posting anything but school in a pain in the butt!!! I hope you guys like this one my little Cakes!!!!! Bye!!!!

Me: Thanks Levi for bringing my boyfriend here * still hugging Denis*

Levi: Tch whatever brat and nice story *walks away*

Denis: Well then I guess.

Me: That’s Levi for you *kisses Denis’s cheek* Denis: Thanks babe *kisses cheek and smiles goofy*

#attack on titan #fanfic #levi ackerman #levi x reader #bad writing #writers #wattpad

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ineffable-grimm-pitch · 2 years

Text

can’t reach you (from this side of the screen)

Fandom: Simon Snow

Relationship: Snowbaz

Characters: Simon, Baz, Penny, Agatha (mentioned)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences (for some Big Kid language)

Additional Tags: fluff, first kiss, getting together

Word Count: 4124

________

SIMON

I can feel my phone buzz against my leg in the middle of lunch. I know I shouldn’t check it, Penny’s in the middle of a rant about magical ethics or something, and it would be rude of me to look like I’m not paying attention. (To be fair, I’m not paying attention, because she lost me about five minutes ago, but she doesn’t have to know that.)

But I know what the notification will be when I check it, and I really want to check it. I’ve been checking my phone all morning looking for this notification.

Surely Penny won’t mind if I just…take a peek.

I pick up my (contraband) phone and the screen lights up, letting me see the notification on top.

TUMBLR

crashingintothesun liked your post

I smile at the screen. Finally . I’ve been waiting all morning for him to like this post. I made it specifically for him to see. I glance back up at Penny and nod briefly, so she thinks I’m still listening, and I click on the notification, bringing up my post.

sword-in-the-scone

love having internet friends, it’s like yes i know ur favorite color. yes i would die for u. no i dont know what u look like

I made the post about him. Tumblr user crashingintothesun (or as I call him, Ty) and I met online through a reblog chain that I can’t even remember. (I feel like I should be able to remember. It seems important, but I don’t.)

He’s an aesthetic blog, which I would make fun of, but it’s actually really good. Like, really good. I love seeing his posts on my feed, they look cool, but I don’t spend much time on his actual blog, since scrolling through the images on his blog makes me feel a bit like I’m drowning. I don’t know how he does it. It’s rather impressive, to be honest. But I don’t go on his blog much.

Another notification pops up on my screen a moment later.

TUMBLR

crashingintothesun sent you a message

I click on the notification to open the message.

sword-in-the-scone + crashingintothesun

Today at 12:52 PM

crashingintothesun

If you wanted to know what I look like so badly, you could’ve just asked.

I stare at the message for a moment, then quickly type a response.

sword-in-the-scone

i have asked, u keep saying no

crashingintothesun

I didn’t say I’d show you. I said you could ask.

sword-in-the-scone

well then am i allowed to know what you look like

crashingintothesun

No. But it never hurts to ask xx

sword-in-the-scone

ur an idiot

crashingintothesun

You wound me, Snow.

He calls me Snow. Everyone online calls me Snow, actually, since Penny’s lecture about internet safety. Since she won’t let me call myself Simon, it was the next best option.

________

Keep reading on ao3!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42539046

#simon snow #baz pitch #carry on #co/ws/awtwb #snowbaz #snowbaz fanfiction

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digitalgate02 · 2 years

Text

Part two of that AU setting.

( PLEASE DO NOT ADD ANTI-▽ COMMENTS/TAGS ON IT. Like i said before, i do not like fix-it attitude, i prefer AUs instead. AUs are valid and free to our own interpretation. If i see any hate on this or on ▽ you will be immediately blocked ^_^💢 )

[Part one here]

Here's the next five pages.

The group’s reunion

Hikari and Takeru told Taichi and Yamato about the incident. Iori and Miyako told Koushiro instead. The group decided to gather somewhere as soon as possible, but Daisuke was too upset to come. They left Ken to handle this, since he’s Daisuke’s best friend after all.

In this emergency reunion, the remaining 02 group explained what happened. Koushiro was aware of the investigations on this lady, Himekawa at least. What made them wary was the anonymous message of someone mentioning a mysterious partner digimon, and the younger kids deduced it meant Meicoomon. But… who is Meicoomon? They left the cat digimon with Koushiro, in his office – handed by a very rich developer friend from Europe, with all the equipment he needed for his own personal server. Miyako has access to this place, as if she was a co-owner of it. The digimon was on a special data realm inside this server, including Meicoomon (Or else it would’ve been too crowded, like 10 kids and 11 digimon in the same space… oh no).

None of the seniors were happy with the news of the 02 group losing a 50ft dragon who can destroy an entire country with one move. Yeah, they weren’t angry though, it wasn’t the younger six’s intention. But now they have a big problem in their hands.

To change the gloomy mood, Hikari then went back to the discussion about Meicoomon being not a lost wild digimon and yes partnered with someone. Which means they have yet to find whoever is her partner. Meicoomon was a little nervous surrounded by the kids’ partners in Koushiro’s experimental server, but she hadn’t snapped yet. Perhaps because they weren’t a threat to her? Maybe her nervousness was just social anxiety…

The seniors decided the best they could do is seek for anyone in Tokyo who had lost a digimon, but this is something unusual – Digimon partners don’t go wandering anywhere like an earthling pet cat. They would rather stay and wait for their human partner than running around the town. Then… Meicoomon spoke.

And she said she was at home waiting for her partner, Mei, but… Something hostile came. Meicoomon had severe social anxiety apparently, so she spoke with pauses and shuttering. After all, she only knew Meiko for so long and had almost zero contact with other digimon or people. This was her first time talking to “strangers”.

Now they got some idea of what happened, and a hint to whom to look for. Mimi gently assured Meicoomon they would protect her, and find her partner Mei. Though Koushiro’s silence meant he was analyzing the information he got from the kids and Meicoomon.

“A digimon coming after another… A strange ink leaking into Imperialdramon… This mysterious woman called Himekawa Maki sent a request for data of something not elaborated. An anonymous message about an unknown partner digimon on the loose…”

Yeah, all of those… Could they be related to each other?

Meeting Meiko

With the 02 group down to 4 digimon and 4 kids (Daisuke was still upset, Ken was trying his best to lift his spirits up, but felt like Daisuke was not in the right shape to be involved with this case), the older six had to find time to help with their search. At this point, the number of Chosen Children around the world was at the 2,048 mark and doubling year by year. Someone somewhere in Tokyo had lost their digimon, after all!

Taichi’s group searched in places they go more often, at school, in their buildings and residential complexes, meanwhile Miyako tried the luck online. Iori, Takeru and Hikari tried their best at the same spots they went and were at least one of two kids with a digimon in public.

The groups were almost hopeless when Taichi met this girl looking for a “Mei-chan” at the ferris-wheel area. He, a very awkward dude around girls who’re not Hikari-Sora-Mimi-and-Miyako, took time to say something. He just blurted “I FOUND YOUR CAT” and she stared at him in confusion. First, how did he know “Mei-chan” is a cat? And two, what is he doing with her cat!? Before he could explain, she walked til him and asked to take her to Mei-chan. Fine?? Well, that was a very awkward first encounter.

Taichi then brought her to Koushiro’s office, where she got reunited with Meicoomon. Agumon, who watched Taichi be a complete idiot in front of a girl, just asked why he screamed ‘I FOUND YOUR CAT’ out of the blue. Taichi blushed in shame and told Agumon to forget it. Meiko then started asking how did Taichi know about her cat, why was he with her and most importantly if no one got hurt. Koushiro raised an eyebrow at that last question though.

Taichi just… Told her his little sister and her friends found the cat. That it was under attack. Koushiro added that they received an anonymous message warning them about a lost partner digimon. Meiko’s reaction was a vague “Oh” and then she looked at the duo, revealing it was her the one who sent an anonymous message. Tentomon then asks why she sent it anonymously and she just replies that Meicoomon is a special digimon.

Suspicious…

They introduce themselves and only now Taichi realizes she lives around his building complex, and that she’s from his class. It’s just he never thought someone else from his class would have a digimon or a digivice. Koushiro sighs and “Then you didn’t ask no one at school?” “SORA ASKED FIRST! It would annoy them being asked again!!” to only Meiko apologize for not being at class the time they were looking for her. They assure her it was okay and that at least everything is fine… At least for now.

But Koushiro was still curious about Meiko’s third question – Sure, no one got hurt, but why would she ask that? Was she involved with what happened to Imperialdramon anyway? And seemed like she was hiding something else from them. Once she left, Koushiro and Taichi discussed a little more about this first meeting. Meiko is suspicious, he concluded. Taichi frowned, she never was the kind to be shady at all, at least she was pretty straightforward and honest with everyone until now. Was something happening to her and she didn’t want to involve them?

Poison

The seniors decided to take the case from their juniors, at least until they could solve Imperialdramon’s issue. But, this didn’t mean they couldn’t assist in small activities, like… Keeping them informed about Daisuke’s current status.

Not that he was “worse” but it wasn’t that “well” either. He never experienced something like this, he only witnessed it happening to Wallace and Taichi though. Ken kept trying to cheer him up, but somehow the one who once didn’t think too hard on things… Was completely doomed by fears of never seeing V-mon again or even… If they have to put Imperialdramon down. Those thoughts were haunting Daisuke like his shadow casting on the floor.

He just became completely broken at this point. But was trying to keep it to himself, and it wasn’t working at all. They all knew. They all could see it. Miyako tried to tell him Koushiro and her were searching for whatever was that, according to their own witnesses. Daisuke tried to smile but yeah, he was all mopey yet. Concerning.

This was all what someone wanted to happen. A strong partner in hands, one of the bravest Chosen Child broken and vulnerable… It was the perfect moment to attack.

Yet… Said person felt lonely. A deep loneliness, and seeing this kid sitting on this coffee shop table with his friends, trying to hide his pain from them… Ah, it felt so… familiar.

Now that Meicoomon was behaving nicely, and Meiko started communicating with Taichi and Koushiro, who also introduced them to the others, life felt a little better. At least Daisuke was relieved that the lost digimon partner had found her human. He wasn’t jealous of it at all, he was just too concerned with his own digimon (also Ken’s) that jealousy was such a waste of time for him.

The moment he left alone, heading home, some woman in a black suit intercepted him. At first he’s all wary and nervous since he has no digimon to protect him, but she just handed him a visit card. He takes it and reads the name in it:

Himekawa Maki.

He felt butterflies in his stomach. It was the same person he and his friends had received a request to recover some data, the same woman they investigated and discovered she was working for a government department. The one who claimed to be a “former Chosen Child”.

He doesn’t know what to do: to run and call for Taichi’s help, or to keep it cool and try to discover what is this data she wanted so hard. His choice was to just refuse to talk to her, he kept walking, and she came after him. She was indeed shady and he didn’t want to talk with that person at all. Until she pushed the right buttons about “knowing that feel” of losing a digimon. He stopped and glanced at her: V-mon wasn’t dead (he hoped so) and even if he were dead he could just wait for him to be reborn in a DigiEgg (which he also hoped for).

Then, the final attack: “What if the egg never hatched?” And that question just made him silent. This is not possible, he believed. He wouldn’t want that to happen, he would… He would NEVER forgive himself if V-mon and Wormmon never come back. Ah yes, he was so vulnerable right now… Almost there.

“What if I could help you? What if you get me certain data I could prevent this from happening?” she said with a smirk. It’s like he would accept it, she could feel it… Until he snapped and said she would never help her. He’s not sassier like Ken or good at sick burns like Iori or passive-aggressive like Takeru, so he was just blunt.

It was when another man, wearing a star-stamped shirt, shorts and pink crocs popped from somewhere and stood for him. Telling that woman to leave him alone. That man was Nishijima Daigo. She bit her lips but left, and then Daigo asked if the kid was okay. Daisuke said yes, and thanked the man. He then revealed that that woman was his ex, and she used to be nice. Daisuke frowned, and then the guy said to him to not worry about it.

Daisuke asked him if she ever talked about having a digimon or digivice… Only to have Daigo show a digivice, though this one was older than Taichi’s model. Surprised, the kid exclaims and then asks where his digimon is, and Daigo’s answer is that his partner is protecting the Digital World. At first Daisuke thinks it’s Qinglongmon, but he learns it’s another kind of Holy Beast they never had met before. Anyway, that’s cool huh!?

A few meters away from there, Maki just whispers that that kid will come to ask for her help soon.

Rampage

The first alert Koushiro got on his system was a huge cloud of data covering Odaiba. He expected this meant one thing – Imperialdramon. He warned Taichi immediately, and asked everyone to come. But by Ken’s request, they asked them to not warn Daisuke for some reason. Why leave Daisuke out? He wasn’t ready to watch them fighting Imperialdramon themselves and would be risky for their friend. Ken also asked to not take part of it, he was just assisting in another sub-case they were on. But Ken just said to be careful because of that strange “ink”.

Somehow Meicoomon told Meiko she wanted to help. Meiko asks why and the cat digimon says they have to help, which is not a good answer except Meicoomon wanted so hard to retribute to those children for helping her out against MetallifeKuwagamon. Meiko knew her partner couldn’t evolve but…!! She went to her dad’s office in the apartment and searched for the papers about Meicoomon. She remembered hearing that Meicoomon had a special power, but they never told her what it was. At this point, Meiko thought they made Meicoomon in order to help the digimon, but she didn’t know the real purpose for them in that project. Meicoomon keeps insisting they should go help them, and then Meiko leaves without checking the folder with details of “Project Mei” she was carrying with her.

Miyako and Iori were about to go, but for some reason, Ken called them for another mission. One about researching that top secret project they found out.

Mimi, Jou, Sora, Yamato, Takeru and Hikari came immediately to try to bring Imperialdramon back, at least to make Daisuke less worried. And at most to prevent a good amount of casualties. Koushiro went there with his laptop. Even if he and the rest weren’t strong enough to fight Imperialdramon, they could assist by investigating the mysterious “ink” and escorting people to a safer area while Omegamon handled their friend.

And it was exactly like that: The remaining 6 were escorting and shielding innocents. Omegamon was right there in the battlefront, fighting Imperialdramon. Koushiro was with Taichi and Yamato instead, and Tentomon (as AtlurKabuterimon) was helping to keep other people safe, securing their exit.

Omegamon dragged Imperialdramon to the same spot Vamdemon had made its headquarters in Odaiba, because no one would interrupt them there and everyone would be safe. However, Omegamon had the hard task to prevent Imperialdramon from shooting laser beams against the buildings.

It’s impossible to hide a 50ft dragon from the public. News networks were already making news reports and warnings. It would be impossible to prevent Daisuke from learning that. It wasn’t at all. And he was on his way to do something stupid as the usual. Jun went with him and brought Pulsemon, her partner, just in case.

Meanwhile, Ken, Miyako and Iori were searching for anything about that mysterious top secret project they had found out before. Anything that could lend them a hand. Why was Ken so interested in it? Because some things weren’t clicking – Meicoomon being a target, a strange request for data coming from Himekawa, them losing Imperialdramon to some weird ink-like substance…

Meiko and Meicoomon came, talked to Koushiro about them being able to stop Imperialdramon, and they tried to join the battle without their approval. Meicoomon then changed forms to Meicrackmon (normal) and joined the fight.

The rest of the digimon returned back to the battle spot, now trying to keep the news reporters away from the battle. Daisuke arrives with his sister and Pulsemon, tries to break into the battle, but Angemon and Angewomon try to keep him outside. Jun tells them maybe they should go home, but he insists he can make Imperialdramon come back to his senses. Takeru tries to assure him Imperialdramon will be fine, that they can bring him back.

Meicrackmon was not strong enough to face a big and powerful digimon as Imperialdramon, but she could at least make things harder for him. Omegamon focused on attacking and the other digimon kept protecting the news reporters and their partners.

The kids tried to tell the media to leave, but they were too stubborn. Then, Jun left Daisuke in the hands of Sora and Jou, and tried to lure the news reporters to another place: By telling them there was some other breaking news in another place. It didn’t work quickly, but Jun showed them a video of the Tokyo Tower – there was another digimon on the loose and Momoe & Chizuru were there, on live, reporting that. Of course all of those people followed Jun and Runnermon, so the area got free from those people. Except for Yamato’s dad, he was mostly worried about lending them a hand in keeping that area restricted from the populace.Said video was fake, of course, but the Inoue sisters were on board in helping their little sister’s friends.

Daisuke kept asking them to let him talk with Imperialdramon, but they knew it wasn’t possible to approach the giant dragon at the moment. To him, he would only want Imperialdramon to be taken down if there’s no other option. But he believed that could be avoided.

Koushiro then shouts telling them to NOT approach Imperialdramon and that he probably identified something like a parasite digimon in the opponent’s body. Taichi and Yamato gasp, but pass the order to Omegamon immediately. Though it was too late as Meicrackmon is too close to Imperialdramon right now. Something like a blob of ink jumps from Imperialdramon to Meicrackmon, who starts suffering a mutation. She becomes Vicious Mode and attacks Omegamon and Imperialdramon mercilessly. Meiko is in shock, Daisuke fears for the worst.

Imperialdramon jogress breaks and two Digieggs fall on the ground. Meicrackmon then disappears in a strange distortion caused by her immense power and leaves. The kids reunite with their digimon, and Taichi lends Daisuke one of the eggs. The boy is still petrified, but he knows this means V-mon and Wormmon will come back, right?

Takeru takes the other egg, with heart patterns, and decides to deliver it to Ken. Daisuke asks if he could go with him and Hikari says she’s going with them.

The seniors now try to reach Meiko, but she was in shock. What was happening to them all?

The truth

Ken and the other juniors finish their investigation and they send the results to Koushiro. Seems like Meiko was holding a big secret but couldn’t give them details. Then, Koushiro asked her to talk with him about that. Taichi was curious about it somehow, Yamato declined in order to prepare for a new concert of his new band, and Daisuke was actually babysitting V-mon and Wormmon’s eggs.

Meiko accepted speaking the truth, and revealed to Koushiro, Taichi and the other five kids from 02 group, about Meicoomon’s origin. An experimental artificial digimon project. Ken then mentions that the project started after their showdown with BelialVamdemon, and that it lasted for 3 years at least and then it was canceled. Meiko then handed Koushiro the papers she had “borrowed” from her dad’s office and they took a look at them.

Koushiro raises an eyebrow. Then Miyako asks if she knew something about it. Meiko says no, and they look at each other. Yeah, there’s more than that.

Taichi asks “Huh, what else is in it?” and Koushiro explains that Meicoomon is a weapon made to restrain the digimon from attacking, and even destroying them. Basically, she corrupts their data and corrupts them til they’re destroyed. Meiko gasps loudly, and then refuses the idea her sweet Meicoomon would kill a digimon.

Iori takes a look in the papers and recognizes one of the scientists related to the project: Himekawa Maki. The same person who was trying to ask them to do some dirty job. Also the same person Daisuke had commented to have met before until a man told her to leave him alone. Meiko then comments that she knew the project’s staff, so that name wasn’t strange at all.

Taichi asks if Omegamon and Imperialdramon are safe or not, since they saw Meicoomon attacking but it didn’t seem to have a huge effect on them. Ken explains that, according to those papers they’re reading right now, Meicoomon isn’t supposed to take her opponents down immediately and yes by poisoning them until their systems stop working. “Ah, that makes sense– Wait–” And then Koushiro adds that they can scan Agumon and Gabumon in order to check if they were corrupted. Taichi seems uneasy but he’s sure they need to do that. Ken calls Daisuke and asks him to bring the eggs to Koushiro’s office.

Meiko is so ashamed of all of this, but Hikari assures her they’re not mad and she hasn’t known that until now. But Meiko wanted to ask her father about this so hard, and why he didn’t tell her that at all. Miyako reveals more details hidden by the government, like an incident involving Meicoomon years ago, which made Meiko want to interrogate her dad even more.

Daisuke left the eggs with Koushiro, to scan them and was hoping they’re fine, and tried to distract himself with something else. Then, he asks Koushiro what they could do if their partners had their data corrupted, making the older boy suspect of him knowing something else. Daisuke is a bad liar, so he was definitely trying to not worry everyone.

The results are in – their data were corrupted at least, but some strange numbers were showing. Taichi, Yamato, Daisuke and Ken were a little concerned now, but Koushiro believes this can be fixed, he only needs to know how first.

Daisuke then decides to share the details he heard from Himekawa. Meanwhile Meiko confronts her dad.

[Final part here]

#project mei AU

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lgcsejun · 2 years

Text

trimester update ( Q3 ) ( swipe to unlock ) inside sejun’s phone! ✧

TOP FIVE MOST USED APPS ON YOUR PHONE?

“oh well the first app, i’m pretty sure i can guess,” he says opening up his settings. “yeah, it’s youtube.” sejun finds himself listening to a lot of producer reactions to songs and just playlists themselves. he specifically finds himself watching a lot of dance videos, so he can ask kiha questions about them later and maybe attempt to follow along. (he’s decided lately that he’s gotta improve his dancing skills, lest he will suffer if he’s ever chosen to debut.) “then it’s tiktok, twitter,” he says with a shrug, relenting to himself that social media is indeed addicting and he is no different from the rest of genz. “and discord and messages.”

THE MOST RANDOM NOTE IN THE NOTES APP?

opening notes, he sees lots of lists of songs, artists, and producers. then there’s a list of tech that he’s thinking about getting to up his producing and songwriting game. “there’s one on here that just says ‘ham,” he notes. “i guess i was hungry when i wrote it.” that’s gotta be the one because other than a few random lyrics and pictures he think would be cool to draw later, that’s the only one without much context or reasoning. “oh wait, there’s one here that just has the orangutan emoji.” he laughs a little and shrugs. “i honestly don’t know... what it’s for...”

LAST MESSAGE OR CALL RECEIVED AND FROM WHOM?

not the question, the last outgoing messages are to sunhwa wondering if she’s free for dinner later. there’s been no reply, which is fine, sejun just assumes she’s busy. however his last message is from kiha who just says “chips” regarding to if he wants anything from the corner store while sejun is there. sejun is left to his own devices to figure out what kind of chips that means. he decides to look through his calls and finds that his last call was from nina who offered to listen to a demo of a song that he’s been working on through the phone.

LAST 5 SONGS YOU LISTENED TO?

new tooth by rich brian is sitting at the very top of his recently played. he’s addicted to the song and aspires to have similar writing talent for lyrics. then it’s king for a day by pierce the veil because he heard the song on tiktok and instantly became a fan of the american ‘screamo’ rock group. next is the purge by h1gher music artists -- big naughty being his favorite out of the bunch. the newer, young rapper, is someone he’s been heavily looking out for since his performance on show me the money. last is paradise by millic and fancy child, an older release but one that he frequently comes back to. and then pass the nirvana by pierce the veil.

5 RECENT ONLINE SEARCHES?

the first search in sejun’s history is “nope jordan peele” looking up review and release for the movie because he hadn’t had the time to go see it in theaters. next search is “late night ramen recipe” to satisfy his late night cravings for creative ramen concoction. he ended up not making any because they didn’t seem like they’d be as satisfying as straight up ramen in the long run. “starbucks by me” from his time in california and “la used record stores” to allow him to spend an obscene amount of money on used records while he was in the area. the last is “legacy family concert” to see what legacy ent. fans thought of the trainees on stage. (he sent kiha a message later to congratulate him on being called an ace.)

#lgc:cupdate004

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openingpandorasbox1 · 26 days

Text

DELETING PEOPLE OFF FACEBOOK (Part 4)

One day she wrote me a message in the group about her daughter and I wrote back within the week. She told me she was depressed because her daughter said something to her and that her boyfriend agreed with her. They said something negative about her. I wrote back and gave her support, I’m not sure what was said. At the end of my reply, I let her know what was happening in my life. Going through a difficult time, depression and my relative who I was close to was rushed to hospital and I’ve been visiting him in hospital every day. Even though I had a lot going on, I still took time to reply to her message because I knew she was depressed and needed a friend. In groups you can see if someone has read it, and Facebook indicated she had. She never replied.

Five months later, after not hearing from her she wrote me a message (under the last message I sent her). She never responded to anything that I wrote, nor cared. She’s always polite, it’s always ‘How are you, what have you been doing?’ it doesn’t matter what I write back because it will be ignored and it will be about what’s going on in her life.

She wrote a message, so I thought this time I won’t reply to her straight away and just got on with my life. A few days later she wrote back to enquire why I haven’t replied to her message after three days. She goes six months without acknowledging my existence and ignores my messages but she gets upset with me if I don’t reply to her straight away.

So, I replied, said hello, supported her with her problems as always. I didn’t hear from her since. That was in September 2016, 8 months ago. So thought ‘fuck it’ and I deleted the group. Occasionally she will send me a Happy Birthday message, but sometimes I don’t even get that.

I understand people are busy, but everyone does. I know people who are busy with their lives, but they still take time for the people they care about. They don’t go out of their way to ignore people on purpose.

Autumn was a good friend to me, when it comes to contacting me and spending time with me. She out of all the others. We would text, communicate online and LIKE each other’s posts and we had similar hobbies online. We both liked making pages, and into films etc. We liked people who interacted with us. Autumn had issues in other areas though, which caused problems.

Judy is online a lot, but she rarely posts and rarely posts about what’s going on in her life. She’s very mysterious. If something is wrong, she won’t tell anyone. She sort of goes in hiding when something is wrong. That’s how she handles problems. She LIKES and contacts me every blue moon, not all the time but every blue moon. I don’t mind that. We are both there for each other, not all the time but we are there.

I have a lot of Facebook friends who I’ve had on my Facebook for years. When I first joined Facebook, I added all these people with the same name as me, LOL. I don’t know why, but they seemed like nice people. I also added people from history groups and music groups. I like people who talk about things like music and cool things, so I’m always up for new friends who are into things that I’m also interested in. It’s hard to meet people like that in real life. I just love those people on Facebook who have time for you, who are there for you, and are just cool.

There are good people out there, and sometimes you only get a handful on Facebook. But I respect those people, and I care about them. I’m there for them and they are there for me. Not all the time, but enough. I don’t need attention 24/7. I’m happy with someone caring a few times a year, that means more to me than nothing.

#facebook #facebook friends #mark zuckerberg

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rantsintechnicolor · 11 months

Text

This is how it happened.

Well, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut and asked him why he deleted the message. My fault. My bad. I started it up again. I wanted to understand why someone would censor themselves. Apparently, he thought I was offended when I didn’t respond, though I couldn’t see how the message could offend anyone.

So how did we get here? From over here, his feelings seem to have come out of nowhere. I can only guess how it happened, very much like with me and Hal, how I got attached and fell hard without Hal having any idea what was going on. I somehow turned Hal into the ideal, as this old friend somehow turned me into the ideal. I can only really report on when we met and exchanged messages, but not on what happened with him in between.

He offered to take me out for my birthday a year ago. Yeah, it did feel like a date. I told myself that it couldn’t be. We were very old friends and he’d fucked a lot of my friends. And I mean sex. He couldn’t be trying to add me to that list. Could he? Nah. He is like family.

After that, I invited him to a cider share. He knew most of my guests but things didn’t go well with them. He offended them. W didn’t forbid him from returning, but he hasn’t set foot here since. It took a long time for him to reach out again. He would come to my gigs. We would chat online, get together and talk about writing. One day, I had a bad day and he reacted negatively to an instagram story that made me laugh. It didn’t go well. He unfollowed and unfriended me. But I wasn’t blocked. Eventually, I confronted him about it and got the longest text message ever about me triggering a childhood trauma that I didn’t even know about. I was like, “Okay. Sorry. I didn’t know. Do what you need to do. Be well.” And like a month later everything was hunky dory again.

Then the really heavy flirting and suggestive offers began last summer. I pretended like it wasn’t happening until I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I told W about it. By this time, I had completely forgotten about the dust up at the party. He was once one of W’s good friends, but after this dust up, she’d washed her hands of him. And she made a boundary: do not fuck this guy. And she is right. He doesn’t feel safe.

The day came when we had to talk about his behavior toward me. But I was tired and not feeling up to a discussion. As I started to leave, he prompted the conversation about his romantic overtures. I said, that’s not where I was going to start. I mentioned the dust up at the party. I meant to use his behavior that night as a way to explain why a romantic friendship was not going to happen, though I didn’t get to that last part. He seemed upset by the whole thing, but quietly so. I sent him a text later pointing out where I thought he went wrong, to which he replied, I’ll get back to you, but don’t reply, I’m feeling suicidal. How fucked up is that? I texted some friends in common to look in on him, since I wasn’t allowed. Two weeks ago, I got five pages to “explain the way his brain works,” doubling down on his questionable views (I reread the document recently and it has been heavily edited down to two pages though I still have the original). Also blaming me for a lot of his depressive episodes of the past and of late. This long communication had the added benefit of adding new reasons why this guy would not be a suitable or safe FWB.

My reply declined his offers for romantic intimacy among other things. And now he’s mad. Everything I write back is being twisted into something I didn’t say. I’m the demon in this story because apparently I am making him the demon. I protest. I maintain I am not. But maybe he needs me to be the problem so he doesn’t have to take responsibility for being a jerk and his own behavior for making me off limits to him.

Well. This sounds pretty familiar. I’ve been where he is. Past me would have liked patience and understanding from the person that backed away from me. So. I will try to be patient. I will try to be generous. Holding up my hands, waving the white flag, apologizing at least once per reply. I’m keeping it cool on my side while his temperature is hot. I’m doing my best to de-escalate and he has called a time-out. And in this time-out perhaps he’s seeing this as a losing battle. Or not. It may have taken him a few more days to cool down, but he maintains he will make time for me. So, this is not over.

I share friends with this man (though I have lately learned his views are making people want to disappear into the bushes like Homer Simpson. This growing isolation is concerning. Whatever manosphere rabbit hole he is tumbling down is a trap). We share this town. I don’t want this to be awkward when we invariably cross paths. These are reasons to see it gets resolved sooner rather than later. Resolution is perhaps impossible. Friendship is still on the table, but he may grow tired if it doesn’t get him anywhere… which is probably fine… =(

#the shoe is on the other foot now #generous #gentle #relationships #friendships #rejections #isolation

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donutloverxo · 3 years

Text

A Royal Scandal 2

Modern royalty au

(Image from Pinterest)

Cowritten with @lizzygal

I'm so sorry! I made a mistake while posting this yesterday so I'm reposting it now. Hope y'all enjoy💖

Note - Since y'all liked it so much we've decided to post this fic on both ao3 and my tumblr! There will be no taglists for this however💖 You can subscribe to the ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, Mentions of previous domestic abuse.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 8k

To be fair, Steven could understand why his mother was so upset after watching the entire footage from the royal steam rooms. He had a far better understanding after having seen the footage in question. The one that had led to his mother’s reaction that very morning.

Seated beside Carol on the ride back, he slipped in his wireless earbuds and pulled up the first video he found online on his phone.

A separate car had been sent for you for whenever your meeting completed. However, he had a whole series of his own back at the palace before his day could be considered over in the administrative offices. Days were never really over for him. Should anything happen somewhere in his nation, he would be informed. As was expected for a ruler.

Until then, he had fifteen or so minutes to kill till he arrived back at the royal palace, depending on city traffic.

Which was how he found himself watching what was obviously some sort of hidden camera. As the royal banya did not have CCTV cameras. Steve found himself making a mental note to himself to ask Carol about it.

After he watched the video.

He had the feeling that this would not be going away anytime soon. Therefore, he needed to know what was on there if he was going to have to defend his actions, or even speak about it.

It was somewhat surreal watching himself walk into view wearing nothing. Not even a towel. Talking with someone who was obviously you.

Based on where the camera was located, Steve could tell it was somewhere in the hallway that led from the steam rooms into either the showers or locker room. Thank all the saints above your back was to the camera. Half of it anyway. You were standing at a turn in the hallway, leaning against the wall. Half of you hidden. A towel wrapped around your body.

Thanking those saints above still that there was no sound, Steve watched on as a voice narrated the video, some celebrity blogger dissecting the footage as if it were a pivotal moment in some sporting event.

Steve watched himself turn to face you, facing the camera too and exposing his entire self to the world.

Not that he was ashamed. He had nothing to be ashamed about. Steve was built tall and powerful like his father and mother’s father. He kept himself in shape and as for the manhood that hung heavy between his thighs, he refused to be embarrassed by that either. The blogger however did have several opinions about what she referred to as, the royal sword.

She also seemed to be very opinionated when Steve watched himself kneel down in front of you. He’d never watched himself go down on you before and found himself transfixed, easily able to ignore the blogger’s excited rambling.

For once, Steve watched your hands sink into his hair as he sank between your legs. He watched your pleasure grow and grow, he watched you sag back into the wall and reach up, grabbing at it like a cat stretching out in the hot sun.

Seeing it happen like this? Steve felt like a voyeur. He felt like he was doing something wrong. And then, he watched you climax on his face. He watched your hands tighten up against the corner of the walls meeting. He watched himself stand and no longer noticed the commentary as he sheathed himself between your legs and proceeded to pound you into the wall without mercy.

His attention caught on one little inconsequential thing. Watching one of your legs that wound over his thigh bounce wildly each time.

Quickly he exited out of the video and blog. Unwilling to watch more. Pulling a bud from his ear, he glanced over at Carol who was watching the city fly by her window.

“Have you inquired as to if the palace guard has looked into how the video was taken in the royal banya?”

Blonde hair dusted her shoulders as she looked at her king. Carol answered without a second of hesitation. “Already done Your Majesty. The camera was found this morning. A webcam of some type. It’s been sent away for fingerprints and I have the best IT professional I know looking into it, to determine if we can track down who it belongs to. The royal guard has also launched an investigation into all palace employees.”

“Thank you,” he answered her with complete sincerity.

Captain Danvers had been at his side since he assumed the throne and had proven herself hundreds of times over. She was his confidant. She was his bodyguard. She was his closest thing to a friend, if Steve could say he had such a thing. He could tell Carol anything. He had told Carol about you. Carol had told him about her sick mother and in return, Steve have given her a cottage on palace grounds while providing a nurse. So that Carol would be able to spend as much time as possible with her mother in her final days. Carol still lived on the palace grounds in that cottage down by the gardens.

“I’ll let you know when I know something,” she assured him.

***

Your return to the palace felt like it took forever. Mostly because your panties were very obviously damp from leakage and you were greatly concerned about a wet stain. The modern equivalent of a scarlet letter. Letting everyone know what you’d done.

Twice you’d checked in a bathroom along with every mirrored surface you came across.

Alas, it seemed you were in luck.

No one would know that you’d had inappropriate contact on a workday, or think you’d had an accident. Granted if someone would have noticed you planned on blaming your monthlies.

By the grace of the many women who came before you, you managed to get back to the palace without being caught and were about to go change your panties when a familiar face popped into your office.

“Hey! You’re coming! I’m not taking no for an answer!”

Wanda.

Bright red hair and a brighter red dress that was far from office appropriate appeared in your office, leaping in like an acrobat leaping onto a stage. Making you look up from where you stood behind your desk, digging through your handbag.

A bunch of different thoughts buzzed through your head.

What was Wanda talking about? Where did she want you to go? Did Wanda wear that mini-dress to work? Cause it was about five inches too short and did downright sinful things to the girls. Wanda could always pull off anything. She looked amazing in clubwear, sweats and those tea-party dresses that Jackie O was always wearing.

“Coming?” Fell from your lips in a valiant attempt to stall till you could make sense of what was happening. “What are you not taking no for an answer for this time?”

In your roommate swept like a hurricane.

“It’s practically six!” She declared, as if that was supposed to mean something to you. It had you staring at her and waiting for more information. Hands paused in their hunt for clean panties and a pantyliner in your bag’o’stuff. “No more talk of this fake boyfriend. You and me are going to go have dinner. We’re going to hit the bars to pre-game and then to the clubs! Everyone is going so you are too!”

Such news had you freezing in your patent leather pumps.

Pre-gaming? Dinner? Clubs? Everyone?

How?

It was only Thursday and then you remembered.

It was a long weekend. The winning of some great victory over the Germans from the big war that you only kinda remembered hearing about. Mostly because you’d been busy with the border issue and the education overhaul. You’d known that it was coming up and the entire four-day weekend would be spent celebrating.

Wanda saw your face. She saw what you were thinking. She was practically a mind reader. Which led her to pointing at you scoldingly. “No! No no no! No checking emails or messages. No more work. No! We’re going out tonight and we are going to have fun! You remember what fun is? Right?”

But…you really did have emails and messages to check. You actually did have a ton of work to do. Granted you always had emails and messages to check, plus work piling up. It was the nature of your job. Helping in the running of a country was a 24/7 gig.

“Wanda…”

“Nope!” She declared, marching on into your office and behind your desk to chase you out. Shooing you. Literally making you hop away and grab your handbag because you just knew Wanda wasn’t letting you back near your desk. That much was for sure.

Like a sheepdog, she herded you around your messy desk as you attempted to protest, to get her to listen, to inform her that you really really did have a good bit of work to do.

“Wait…hold on…wait, Wanda…just one second…gah!”

“No more protests! I’m not going to hear it anymore! I refuse to let you hide behind work or the fake boyfriend.”

More protests came from you. You tried. You really really did. But Wanda was shoving and pushing and hip bumping you out into a hallway that did not look like an office building, instead, it was very obviously a palace.

Your heels clicked on polished white marble that shone. Walls were cream and had priceless art hung around, gold gilded borders ran up along where the ceiling met the walls. Light fixtures were old, bronze and cut glass. Furniture that belonged in Sotheby’s was sparsely decorated around the halls.

Door were old and creaky up and down the halls, wooden with locks that required big iron keys.

It was unlike any other place you’d ever worked.

You could feel and see and even smell the smokey history oozing from the walls.

A few people were hurrying out of their offices and locking the doors behind them, which Wanda didn’t even let you do as she went on indignantly. “No! Nope! Clint from Tinder will not wait forever! He digs foreigners and he has a job and he loves to dance!”

At mention of Tinder, your gut lurched.

Dear god not this again.

Why had you ever agreed to let Wanda make you a Tinder profile? At the time it seemed so reasonable. Let her make the profile and she’d get off your ass about your alleged imaginary boyfriend. Problem solved! How on earth were you to know she’d be on the damn app making matches for you?

“Why don’t you go out with Clint from Tinder,” you wanted to know, earning yourself a roll of Wanda’s eyes as you were dragged down along the hallway to the massive marble stairs. Looking as if they’d been carved from one piece, smoothly curling down a floor to the ground floor. Large chandeliers hung with cut glass that threw light everywhere. A massive painting hung up on the large wall of a long dead large royal family in the palace of past.

“He’s not my type. But he is absolutely your type.”

Somehow you doubted that.

Sighing deeply and focusing on not snapping your ankle on the stairs and in your heels, you followed Wanda down, mixing in with the few stragglers who were leaving work and making mental notes to text Steve and let him know you’d be late coming back to the palace that night. You were then planning when you could check your work emails and work-phone messages. That had to be done in a quiet place where no one could overhear. Maybe you could go out to the club and feign a tummy ache? Then sneak away from Clint? It’d probably be much easily to sneak away from Clint than Wanda.

Click. Click. Click.

With every step you maneuvered down your heels were noisy. You’d managed to fling your sizable bag over your shoulder and just knew Steve was going to be annoyed with you. But he was an adult. Being adults meant the two of you would have to do things that you didn’t want.

“So help me, if it kills the both of us, you and I will be going out tonight and having a fun time! This is a celebratory weekend! There are festivities going on all over the city!” Wanda went on, yanking you along behind her upon reaching the bottom step and heading in the general direction of the ground floor exits.

Hurrying along behind her, you followed but you weren’t happy about it.

God did you have so much work to do and you really really wanted to spend the night with Steve. And maybe if you gave in to Wanda, she’d get off your ass about your fake boyfriend? Wait, no, your secret boyfriend, because Steve was very real, you just didn’t want to be eviscerated all over the internet and tabloids for dating a king.

You’d seen what happened when a pretty actress had dated then married a prince who didn’t rule his country. The only thing you had going for you was Steve’s country was still looked at with some serious side-eye from the world, due to past events and rulers. Plus, he wasn’t a young prince that had grown up before the eyes of the world. He was a son of a tyrant, a citizen of a sizable nation the world still viewed suspiciously with a questionable human rights record.

“You’re going to love the club! It’s totally new and they open at ten. Meaning we can have plenty of time with the girls!”

Girls?

As in plural?

Because of course this would be a group event. Wanda never half-assed anything.

“Wanda…” you began.

Before Wanda could turn her attention on you, loud shrill lady screams came and you were greeted to the sight of Maria, Okoye and Pepper. All three threw up their arms and grabbed Wanda in a big hug, yanking her away from you and freeing you from her grip.

Loud girl screeches followed.

There was group hopping and hugs and laughter.

It should have made you realize that it’d been so long since you had a fun girls night. It should have reminded you that you were young and your life shouldn’t be all about work and sneaking off with your boyfriend whenever the two of you were able to.

Your heart should have been warmed by the sight of your palace coworkers who were clearly part of the aforementioned Girls.

How long had it been since you had fun?

How long had it been since you’d had a night out on the town?

What were you doing?

Were you jumping and screeching and hugging too?

No.

You were digging into your handbag so you could text Steve real quick. To let him know about your change in plans before he began to think you’d bailed because you were a coward and got cold feet.

Just as your fingers touched the smooth surface of your iPhone…

A noise caught your attention.

Movement.

Peering up to the side at the wall, or what you’d assumed was a hallway wall since you were in another hallway nearly identical to the one upstairs. All while the hugfest continued. You noticed that the wall was at a weird angle. As if it were opening up on a hinge and by the time you realized that the wall was actually an opening to a hidden passageway, a hand grabbed your elbow and yanked you in.

No more than a soft squeak came from you.

In you tumbled.

Into a dimly lit hallway that was actually a passageway you found yourself. With a metal sounding click the wall slid back into place and a big hand fell over your mouth. Making you immediately panic, immediately reach up to grab the hand that was silencing you. Making an arm band around your chest and pull you flush back against a broad muscular body.

“Did you honestly think for one moment that I would allow you to go get drunk with Wanda? Or go to a club with a man that she met for you on Tinder?”

Steve.

It was Steve.

His faint aftershave still burnt your nose but paired with the masculine scent that was him, you relaxed only a little bit, just a smidge.

How the hell did he know all of that? Had he bugged your office? Was he following you?

Deep in your chest your heart pounded wildly. Your skin was on fire. Even though it was dimly lit, you swore you could see each nail and groove in the wooden walls of the hidden passage.

Steve’s shoes were soft on the carpeted floor. Yours however never reached. Your legs dangled. Desperately you stretched out to try and reach your toes down, but alas, Steve was holding you up and was simply that much taller than you. Easily holding you up as he carried you.

His voice an angry snarl, a seething whisp against your ear. “That is so disappointing my love. A failure on both our parts,” came his angry voice. Walking with sure footing and a quick pace through the only barely lit halls.

Turning here and there, quickly and suddenly, until you were very much lost.

A protest came from behind his palm that was crushed against your mouth. Your blood heating with every passing second till it felt as if it were boiling. All that sudden fear was turning into anger at this treatment.

“I’ve clearly failed you if you’re unable to announce with nothing but the utmost certainty that you’re both in a relationship and have no desire to go out clubbing with whomever Clint from Tinder is.” The word clubbing was spat out, as if Steve found it vile on his tongue. “As for you? Yesterday we were discussing where to go for your birthday and today, you refused to answer one of my calls! You have work to do tonight to make up to me your behavior today!”

Further down the hidden passageway you were unceremoniously carried pulled to his front. Your brain racing at warp speed.

You had work to do? You had to make up for your behavior?

Had he lost his damn mind?

Had he not seen the video of his naked nether-regions all over the internet? Or the sex that made the footage a sex tape? The two of you were now amateur porn stars and he was mad that you? Because you were trying to be lowkey until the entire situation blew over? Steve was mad because you were being reasonable?

A most valiant attempt was made to free yourself.

You struggled. You kicked. You flailed and shrilled behind the hand over your mouth. No longer taken by surprise or frightened. Now you were growing angry.

On top of being terrified of being found out in that footage and ridiculed by the world, or worse, chased out of this country by a horde of angry people who didn’t agree with you being the kings choice as not only a foreigner, but one from pretty humble roots. You were upset that the world saw such an intimate moment between the two of you and even if Steve didn’t care that his junk was all over the internet, you cared. You cared a great deal. The royal junk was your junk. It was bad enough you had to know he’d dated women before you who’d seen him nude and were intimate with him, but now the world? It was simply too much for you to comprehend.

Steve slowed and turned, using his elbow he made something pop and a slight crack of light where there was obviously another hidden door in the wall appeared.

Using his broad shoulder, Steve pushed the door open and stepped out into a hallway that led down to the royal chambers and split off.

With his knee, he shoved the hidden panel shut and tightening his grip on you, Steve hurried down that hallway.

A completely different one from where the administrative offices were located.

Rich wooden paneling covered the walls. Making everything appear warmer, lusher. An amber haze hung in the air.

Thick carpet was underfoot. Furniture spoke to its age but had been made with a quality that endured. Like this palace. Built when his land was called something else but had stood through time in proof of his claim to the throne.

Generations before him had ruled, claimed spouses and lovers in these halls, grown old and made history and now it was his turn.

Merely that knowledge had him growing excited in his slacks for a second time that day. All of your thrashing and struggling didn’t help. If anything, it sparked a part of his brain that insisted he ravish and conquer you in his royal bed.

Mouth pressed to your ear, till he felt amber and diamonds press against his lips. “I swear, I will spend the rest of tonight inside of you until things are as they were yesterday. Until you remember that when I speak to you in any manner, you answer. Considering how thoroughly you’ve consumed every last part of me, it is only fair.”

And then, in his slowed pace down the hall ever closer to the door that would lead into Steve’s Royal Apartment, he saw a portrait up on the wall that made him pause.

It was him.

Or his portrait from when he’d turned thirty.

There he stood looking down at you both. Dressed ceremonially in his crown, holding the traditional ruling scepter and wearing the robes from kings of past. Fur, jeweled toned fabric that he’d easily filled out with gold adornments, amber buttons and pipping on his shoulders.

What was most striking about this portrait compared to all the others of Steven throughout the palace, was he was alone in it and unlike all the others, at the time, he’d not been single.

Further making that internal fire burn hotter.

Making him stop and force you to look up at it with him. Framed in a gilded bronze heirloom. Up where he had to look at it to be reminded of what could have been.

“Look! Look!”

You stopped struggling and looked, were well aware of his mouth against your hair.

“See? See it? You could have been there with me. At my side. Wearing my crown. Wearing the robes and jewels of my grandmothers. My queen.”

And indeed you saw.

When you’d seen the finished portrait, you had been blown away at how your body reacted to the sight of your lover in his traditional uniform he only pulled out for big special events. How powerful he looked. How sexy he was wearing a crown, holding a golden scepter with an eagle on the end clutching a piece of amber the size of an egg.

The arm around your chest fell so he could point at the empty space in the picture beside him. “Look. Right there. That is where you would have been. Right there. At my side.”

His hand over your mouth still held you flush against him. Pulled tight against him.

That thought, that entire notion of you painted on a portrait, up there with Steve at his side. It was so surreal to you.

When it was just you and Steve it was fire and gold and everything was amazing. When it was King Steve and his Chief of Staff it was stimulating and exciting. You still weren’t sure about being queen. A queen! That wasn’t like being a princess or a duchess. A queen was different. Even the word felt different.

It made your heart start to pound wildly in your chest again. It made you breathe hard against the back of his hand. It made you have a physiological reaction.

***

This was not how Carol intended to spend her night.

It was not how she wished to start her off-time. Having given Val the update on all things that had transpired for the day as she handed off command of the Royal Guard to her fellow captain.

No sooner had she told Val everything, did one of the messengers from communications come hurrying in. A slip of paper in her hand. A note that changed everything for that night, that week and even that month.

It had left Carol walking through the royal apartments towards the Queen Mother’s rooms.

As she knew exactly what King Steven was doing and quite frankly, she wanted no part in disturbing that unless she absolutely had to.

Besides. The message that had been sent to the palace via royal envoy was meant for Her Majesty. It was best Her Majesty the Queen Mother figured out how best to deal with this coming…situation.

Compared to His Majesty’s Private Rooms, Sarah’s were all light and brightness. White marble and ornate touches. Colorful priceless paintings and large bouquets of fresh flowers in crystal vases. Soft plush furniture held little personal touches. A white chenille throw draped over her couch by a fireplace. Pink slippers sat on the floor. Books both new and ancient with various markers holding her place were scattered about. Fresh flowers. She loved fresh flowers. They were everywhere.

As expected, the door to the Queen Mother’s apartments were open.

Carol still paused outside of it to knock gently.

“Your Majesty?” She called out, looking at her watch to see that it was nearing seven. Around seven was when the queen took her dinner meal privately. Of course she’d leave the door open for kitchen staff to bring up food as usual. It wasn’t one of the nights that was reserved for Steve and his mother to have their dinners together.

After the death of her husband the former king, Sarah had effectively thrown open all the doors that he had imprisoned her with.

Her soft voice drifted out.

Delicate and gentle.

The Queen Mother sat in a large chair by a big window overlooking the city. Her pale hair pulled back at the nape of her neck. A string of pearls tightened and loosened around her fingers as she lowered the book she’d been reading. A pleasant smile came over her soft features.

Upon seeing the stone of Carol’s face, the queen frowned. “What is it? What is wrong?”

Only confirming that something was wrong, Carol shut the door and locked it.

Dinner had been brought up. Smells emanated from the queens private dining room off to the left. It reminded Carol that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning. It had been that kind of a day.

Clasping her hands before her, she rocked back on her heels. “A message was sent by Her Highness Janet Van Dyne. She and her daughter will be at the palace tomorrow…”

Janet and Hope Van Dyne?

Steven’s former fiancée and her mother?

Two golden eyebrows rose, making Carol press on. “Her Highness is under the impression that they’ll be staying here? In the palace?”

All of this was new to Sarah.

She had not heard from Janet since Steve’s coronation. When she and her husband had been in attendance. Earlier that particular year, Hope had broken her engagement with Steven to run away with a Maharaja.

It’d been all over the tabloids.

A young princess of the Netherlands had broken her engagement to the crown prince of an incredibly traditional nation to follow her heart. Hope had spent many years splashed across tabloids and blogs with a handsome charismatic Asian Prince. She’d lost her royal title and gave tell-all interviews about how her family had forbade her from running away and how she’d never marry a man from infamous Rogers Royal Line. And then, oddly, she was back home with her family this year.

Sarah had found it unusual. Alas, she was a busy woman with a life of her own to keep her busy.

“Was anything else in the message,” Sarah wanted to know.

Carol shook her head.

It had been a simple message that was very to the point.

Sighing in a most un-Sarah-like sort of way. She set her book down on the arm of her chair and rose. Tall. Willowy. Pursing her lips. Her dress fell around her in a gauzy cloud.

“Do you want me to tell His Majesty?”

Pausing, the older women considered the question. Dare she tell her son? He deserved to know. Nothing good would come from this visit.

If it were Janet alone? Sarah would not be so suspicious. But Janet and Hope? And that they would come so last minute? After the release of this video footage from the royal sauna?

“Is my son with her?”

Silence.

Carol was quiet.

A noise came from the Queen Mother. A clicking of her tongue. Stepping into her slippers, she pulled the hem of her dress up. “I suppose I should not be surprised that you would keep this from me.”

More quiet came.

“I won’t ask. I’ll find out my own way and leave him be for now. Janet and Hope won’t be here tonight. This can be a problem for tomorrow, today has been difficult enough for us all. Let tomorrow be tomorrow.”

Let tomorrow be tomorrow.

On her other hand was her wedding band. A treasure itself. Now on the widow’s finger. It was so symbolic of the cage she’d lived in for the duration of her marriage.

Absentmindedly, she twisted the rings. “Have you eaten yet?” Pulling them up and down her hand. “I had hoped you would come. I had the kitchen bring up extra.” Off slipped the rings that she had to wear in public. In her hand they jingled until she set them down on a smoothly polished table.

With two heavy clicks, they bounced on the wood by a vase full of peonies. Freeing her for the time being.

“I missed you while you were away.”

A blush bloomed over her porcelain complexion at Carol’s words.

As she watched Carol lock the door to her chambers, a warmth bloomed within her chest. Such words were so simple. So honest. They were words she had not heard before in her life. In this new chapter however, in this new time in her life, she had become accustomed to kind words and compassion.

“I missed you as well.” She confessed, stepping closer and still keeping space between them. As some habits died hard. “Stay with me? Tonight?”

“There is nothing I want more, Sarah.”

***

As it turned out, now you were ready to talk.

However.

Unfortunately.

Steve was now past that point and was on a whole other page.

You found yourself protesting when he carried you into his bedroom like some manner of caveman would carry a slab of meat. Shrilling out when he yanked and ripped and tore at your dress, forcing it over your head after ripping fabric and popping buttons, till it was an unsalvageable heap of material and threads.

Which was an absolute tragedy.

You loved that dress.

You even pointed out that fact to him somewhere between the threshold of his bedroom and his massive bed that really was fit for a king.

It was so big!

A headboard wider than Wanda’s itty-bitty car was long. An elaborate collection of regal flourishes and shapes. Dark sheets so soft they were slippery awaited you as you screeched and hollered, letting out an outraged sound when your bra was popped then yanked roughly from you.

“Steven!” You admonished your king, toes digging deep into the thick carpet as you’d lost your shoes back in the hallway leading to his quarters.

This whole evening was going off the rails for you. There was no other way to put it.

Dim sconces on the wall lit the way. Highly effective mood lighting if you ever saw it. Allowing you to see the set in Steve’s face, the firm line of his mouth.

His fingers wrapped around the back of your neck so he could hold you close, ground out for your benefit. “All day long I tried. Calls. Messages. Texts. Did you want to talk? No. You ignored me. Now I do not wish to talk either.”

Pushing you forward, you found yourself stumbling but knew if you didn’t walk on your own, Steve would merely toss you up on his bed. Up on the sea of pillows. Framed by gilded silver and dark curtains that came down from above to allow for privacy.

“All day long you denied me. I’ll remind you what is mine until you’re thinking clearly again. Until we’re back where we were yesterday!”

“I’m ready to talk now! I’m in a place where I can discuss this with you! I am thinking clearly!”

Words were not needed.

Oh no.

Not when the king grabbed your hand, pulled your arm back and pressed your palm against his straining erection. Hot to the touch. Shockingly hard. Painfully so even you were willing to bet.

Your knees hit the bed and you were pushed forward till you fell over, till you wound up on the expanse of bedding in a tangle of hands and knees and that silky smooth material.

A big explosion came from Steve. Feeling like and you were flailing on your stomach, trapped beneath his oppressive weight and the bed. Fighting. Wiggling. Trying to get free from beneath him but bigger stronger arms had your wrists.

Something was being wrapped around your wrists that you couldn’t see, as your vision was impeded by the broad chest in your face. Right there. Blocking your line of sight. Pinning you down to the sea of grey until finally, finally, he was up and you were once more struggling, wiggling, jerking and finding that you were tied to the headboard.

You were tied to the headboard. You were naked and bound to his bed.

Silky fabric that was Steve’s tie bound your wrists snugly together and wove into the headboard, securing you there most soundly.

It was outrageous! It was absurd!

You were tied to his headboard!

It was a first for you.

When your gaze returned to your boyfriend and even that was now a bit questionable, you were greeted to the sight of Steve shedding his suit. Yanking off each garment without pause or care. A few tears were heard and he was far rougher than need be. A button or two may have flown off.

“You cannot be serious! That’s your plan? You’re going to take what’s yours? Are you serious? This is not the dark ages!”

Ignoring you, Steve shoved his slacks down his long legs. Allowing his rigid cock to bob obscenely. Causing an eyeroll to immediately come from you. A hint of something dark on his hip caught your eye. But it was only a flash and as he was moving, yanking off his suit jacket and fiercely ripping open buttons on his shirt, you couldn’t get a good look.

Was it a bruise? A tattoo?

Somehow you doubted kings were even allowed to have tattoos. Or that Steve even had the time to get himself permanently inked. When the hell did he get that bruise?

Momentarily distracted by him climbing up on the bed, you looked up to give your bindings a good hard yank.

No luck.

Steve’s weight was pushing you down. Shoving you into the bed. Pinning you down as you protested, implored and began to plea. Which was exactly what he wanted. After everything you had put him through today? You would beg. You would plead. You would forget all about that video.

“Open your mouth.”

It was an order.

It could be nothing less.

An absolute command that had your lips slowly parting as your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden treatment, this roughness. Steve held his painful erection in hand and pushed his tip to your lips. Pushed the red end of his cock sticky with precum past your lips. Till you were forced to open your mouth wider and wider for him. To take him deeper and deeper into your mouth.

Steve held your gaze and pushed his member in further. Straddling your chest and gripping his headboard in one hand, till it dug into his fingers. While his other hand grabbed your face to hold it tight.

You’d never be able to take all of him. He knew this. You’d never been able to no matter how much you’d tried. But he wanted to see how much he could fit in your mouth tonight.

“Don’t swallow. Don’t let me down again.”

Your mouth was so warm closing around him. Wet. Sacred. It made him want to close his eyes to sink in deep but Steve would not. He would do that soon enough. He would lose himself in your cunt soon enough.

A few small movements from his hips sank his cock deeper into your mouth. Filling your cheeks as you struggled. Until you found a motion of moving up and down his length, running your tongue along his sides. Wetting up his shaft till sloppy noises started to fill his ears and a small little dribble began to moisten the corners of your mouth.

Those blue eyes remained set on your own. Never once showing you mercy.

“Tomorrow. In the future. If I call or text, you will answer.”

There was no follow-up. Nor was it a question.

Long fingers that belonged on an artist or musician sank into your hair tightly.

All you could do was nod as drool rolled down your chin and you suckled his cock like you would a popsicle, without swallowing, sucking on his sensitive flesh as he liked and without the aid of your own hands to steady his member.

It was glorious and Steve could only slightly appreciate it. As the words that fell from his mouth were more important, more vital.

Feeling how wet your mouth was getting was fantastic. Absolutely. Your nimble tongue was a gift. No one had ever sucked his cock like you.

However…he was still frustrated, still angry, still hurt even.

He’d not worked his way through those feelings as of yet.

Perhaps? In your body?

Those feelings teased and taunted him with his unworthiness. Of how you hadn’t been firmer with your roommate. How you had allowed her to drag you down the stairs for a night out with possibly another man? It infuriated him. It sent his hips rocking into your mouth. It had his cock rubbing up along the back of your throat and made your eyes water.

No.

Steve would not lose you. He loved you too much to even entertain such a notion. No. Infact, he would make sure that he ruined you. By the end of the night, he would make certain that you’d never even amused the notion of being set up. He would be completely sure that when you left his chambers come morning, you would never be doubted when you told Wanda or anyone that you had a partner.

“I want to start publicly courting you. I want to be engaged this year. I do not want to hide any longer. When people look at you, I want them to know that you belong to me.”

Noises came around his cock that Steve knew were words and he did not care.

“Look at yourself.” Steve stilled, his words harsh, bitter even. “You have my cock in your mouth and I am completely at your mercy. Tied to the bed of kings because I cannot go one night without dreaming of you, fantasizing about your tight cunt and smooth skin. I would give you the world and all you want is nothing. You are the worst type of infuriating.”

As if to prove his point, he steadily pumped his pelvis up into your mouth. Each slide in pushed saliva and pre-ejaculate out, making it ooze from the seal of your lips around his erection. Against your throat his wet balls bounced. His ass rested on your chest and he could not get enough. More. He wanted more. He needed more. Craved more.

The urge to go harder was strong.

Steve wanted so badly to fuck you. To make you feel how much you drove him mad. How you caused him physical pain from longing alone.

With drool smeared down your chin and neck, never looking more beautiful in his opinion, Steve pulled his dick out. Done with your mouth for now. Needing more. Needing to grab your tits and to be closer to your face, looking closer into your eyes.

In a familiar sort of way, your throat bobbed.

“Did you just swallow when I specifically told you not to?”

A moment of hesitation followed from you that had Steve gripping your face, easing his body down yours but holding your slippery chin tight in his grip. Your eyes were wide. Again, probably without even realizing, you swallowed in nervousness.

“I’m…I’m sorry…”

“I’m sorry what,” he demanded, leaning down closer, licking the wetness from your chin and earning from you a most satisfying shiver that wracked your body.

“S-s-sorry, Your Majesty.”

His tongue was hot and wet on your chin. His body was heavy and hot on your own. Skin on skin contact made your brain short circuit. It was a miracle you could string those syllables together. With your hands bound so snugly to the bed. All you could do was take it. Take what he gave you.

Feeling him push your thighs open and position himself between your hips made you gasp. Words failed you.

And then words didn’t even matter because he was pushing into you. Claiming you. Taking what was his because you did belong to him. You belonged to him in every possible way.

A scream exploded out of you when he dove right in. Sank in till his crown was pressed up against the wall of your cervix. Deeper than anyone had ever been before. Hands were grabbing your ankles and spreading you wide. Spearing you on his cock. Stretching your body taut.

“So wet. You were made to take me. Made to take your king.” He whispered more to himself even though you heard. You would have heard a pin drop. You could hear your heart pound and blood rush through your ears, each gasp your lungs took. You could feel every last inch of him deep inside your core. Painfully stretching you open like this. Burning. Tingling. Twisting.

Hands tightened on your ankles till you looked up at Steve. Hovering over you like a pillaging warlord about to ravish his prize.

“You have till Monday to decide how you wish us to become public. I will not wait a day longer.”

Seeing you like this before him. Splayed out. Your pussy curled around his member, plump from being filled with your breasts round puddles up on your chest. It set his hips into a frenzy. Powerful thrusts were sent into your tight walls that made Steve grunt every time from the power behind his motions, from the sight of his cock vanishing up into you. Watching your pussy take him so hungrily as you cried out beneath him each time. Breasts swaying. Skin slapping on skin with the contact. Your hips jiggled, his headboard creaked, his balls slapped soundly against you both.

“Say it. Say the words to me. Say them!” Steve commanded you. Pieces of his hair falling and sticking to his sweaty forehead as he sank in to the very depths of you then pulled out, revealing a glistening shaft before slamming his member right back in where it belonged.

“Yes…yes…yes…yes…” you chanted, over and over, again and again with every thrust in, every withdraw that was like heaven and hell, your body needing him to complete this circuit only the two of you could create. “…yes…yes…my king…yes my king…”

Those words. They were a song to his ears and had your ankles slapped together. Those words had the backs of your thighs slapped wetly against his chest, your feet touching his shoulder as Steve continued to pound into you.

Pumping into your now closed thighs, into your tighter walls at this angle.

“Look!”

Dimly your eyes fluttered, you looked into his burning blue eyes.

“Look. Here.”

You followed his gaze to where he pointed, looking down at his pelvis, where his hip met his abdomen in that hard cut of muscle that was visible above his beltline. The one you loved to lick.

He did have a tattoo.

It took you a second to realize what you were looking at and focus, as his thrusts continued without mercy, pounding away, slamming into you without mercy. Shaking and pushing you into his bed.

Your writing was inked into his skin. Your very own signature.

Your name was forever scrawled into Steve’s skin and then, it hit you. Your climax took you by complete surprise. Your entire body went stiff. A pained noise came from you and you shattered all around his cock. Fingernails dug into your palm and you stared at your name in cruel ecstasy.

Steve fell too. You could tell from his thrusts getting wild, falling out of sync. You could tell because he swore out, clenched his face and held your thighs tight to his chest.

Pumping deeply into you while your body milked him for everything he had to give.

Making him merely a man in that moment with you.

Up on his headboard, you were tightly secured and would soon have bruises from arching up against the silk tie restraining you. Unable to do anything but feel and accept what your king was giving you. On your back. In a bed that past kings had slept in.

None of which was lost on you.

Not as your body felt leaden, filled with molten hot lava. Limp. Your secret garden continued to suck him in, clench around him and spasm, making your eyes roll up in your head, your body dig into his bed and words fall from your mouth.

In a most dignified sort of manner, your king humped into your body like a jack rabbit, chasing the last vestiges of his climax with coral wet lips and dark honey hair now damp with sweat.

A sight for your satiated eyes.

“Let me call my mother in the morning.” You breathed out slowly, as if figuring out how your lungs worked once more after a marathon. Your words making Steve still above you. Though your cunt did not. It twitched around his royal girth and you met his gaze from on his pillows. “Tomorrow you can have Maria release a statement saying whatever you want. Just let me tell my parents myself. They should hear from me that I’m not coming home.”

Whatever wind that may have held up his sails had clearly been withdrawn.

Almost tenderly now, Steve leaned forward to quickly loosen the silk around your wrists and free your hands from his headboard. Stretching out his long powerful body above you. Flushed red now. Glistening. Though he left his tie there. He remained inside of you too. Filling you and stretching you full.

Gently, he pushed your legs down until they wrapped around him and he was able to rest his weight most carefully on top of you. Pressing wet kisses to your nose, your cheeks and chin. Worshipping your face with delicate touches and caresses.

“I’ll fly them out here whenever you want. When we get back from Switzerland, I’ll have them waiting for you.”

Softly you answered, reveling in his softness now that your body had been given her reward, her treat, her pleasure from his roughness. Smelling the musk of his sweat and feeling the wet glide between your bodies.

Leisurely, your hands found their way up his muscular arms to his shoulders. “You know what I mean. I won’t ever be their daughter again. I won’t ever be Wanda’s roommate. I’ll have to quit my job. Nothing will ever be the same.”

Those words, well, they settled uncomfortably in him.

All of them were true.

You would be giving up so much. He would have to make sure to take care of you even more so, keep a closer eye on you. He would need to have a talk with his mother come morning.

“That’s true,” Steve softly conceded, rubbing his nose along your own. Barely grazing his lips over yours. A hint of a tongue touched you before his breath danced over your mouth. “We would be together though. Finally together. You. Me. Not hiding anymore.”

Speaking of hiding.

That word alone had you pulling away from his mouth to lean to the side, to get a look down at his Adonis belt. At the alluring groove that led down to his pubes where your name was now in black.

Nay, your signature.

As if sensing what you were after, your boyfriend tilted up a smidge. Enough for you to see but not enough for him to leave your body. Pray tell that couldn’t happen.

“When did you do this?”

“Do you like it,” Steve asked, as if your opinion mattered. Which was laughable considering how permanent it was.

He’d literally took your signature and had it tattooed on his body.

“Of course I love it. Now you have a part of me on you all the time.” An incredibly modern take on Steve’s royal jewel gift thing, but in reverse you thought. Then grinned as it sank in. “I can’t believe you did it though.”

Why wouldn’t he have done it?

Steve hadn’t thought twice when Maria had gone on about getting her late mother’s writing tattooed on her side, in a lasting forever tribute. Having your writing on him at all times had been an idea that hadn’t left him. Not until he’d had a tattoo artist praised for their work brought to the palace late the other night.

He wasn’t even going to lie, king or not, there was something downright satisfying about having something like this hidden on his body from all. Known only by you and him. A secret only for you two.

Bringing him right back to the thought that the biggest secret the two of you shared would soon be out.

Soon it would be public knowledge and that had Steve brushing his fingertips over your cheeks, kissing the swell of your cheekbone and moving ever just so to make a small moan come from you. “You’ll never regret this. I’ll love you for the rest of my life. I’ll devote myself to making you happy. You’ll never regret becoming my queen.”

#steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #king!steve x reader #king!steve rogers x reader #king!steve rogers

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

Text

small world ~ corpse husband

word count: 2053

request?: yes!

“Can I get a Corpse x fem reader where reader an corpse are both streamers and they meet each other for the first time and realize they used to know each other as kids? I know Corpse has said that he didn’t have many friends when he was younger so maybe have it where reader was someone that was really nice to him? Sorry for the long request and thank you if you do it! 😊🖤”

description: he never would’ve thought that the new addition to their friend group would be someone from his past

pairing: corpse husband x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

“Hey Corpse,” Karl said. Corpse hummed in response, focused on the drawing he was doing for their Jackbox game. “(Y/N) is also from San Diego. Do you know her?”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Karl, San Diego is pretty big. We’re not bound to know one another. Besides, just because he lives here doesn’t mean he grew up here.”

“I did grow up in San Diego actually,” Corpse said. “I don’t think we would’ve known each other though. Even if we happened to be in the same area, I didn’t talk to many people and I dropped out in the seventh grade.”

“I was, regrettably, popular in school,” (Y/N) added.

“Regrettably?” Karl asked.

“Yeah. Looking back, I hated being popular. I hated it when I was popular even. My friends were mega jerks and made fun of everyone, even me sometimes. I would try and make them be nice but they just let the popularity go to their heads. I haven’t spoken to any of them since we graduated. There was this sort of outcast in middle school I used to have a crush on. I tried to be friends with him, but he preferred to keep to himself. I always wished I had been friends with him because I feel like I would’ve been so much happier. I never saw him again either. I wonder whatever happened to him.”

Something about her story triggered a memory in Corpse. The year before he dropped out, there was a girl in is class who was always nice to him and tried to talk to him. He brushed it off as another way he was being made fun of. When it kept up, though, he realized she was likely being genuine. He still kept his distance, but he found himself gaining some feelings for her as well. When he dropped out, he never heard from her again.

I wonder where she is now, Corpse thought to himself. Man, what was her name?

Corpse accidentally gasped, drawing the attention of everyone in the Discord call.

“You good Corpse?” George asked.

“Y-Yeah,” Corpse responded. “Just uh...just realized I fucked up my idea a bit. No big deal, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

The game started prompting for everyone to show what they had created. Taking the opportunity of not having to speak, Corpse went to Google (Y/N)’s YouTube channel. She had come into the game as a friend of Karl’s and Corpse hadn’t heard of her channel, but now somethings were starting to click together.

The first thing that popped up with the top Google Image for (Y/N)’s channel name. It was a beautiful girl laying in a garden of flowers with a wide smile on her face. Corpse sucked in a breath as he realized that the girl in the picture looked familiar.

“Corpse,” came Karl’s voice, snapping Corpse out of his trance. “It’s your turn.”

“Sorry,” Corpse said. “I was distracted.”

The rest of the stream Corpse felt like he was in a daze. He continued to play the games and forced out laughs when he realized someone was making a joke. Every time (Y/N) spoke, he felt his heart flutter with excitement. He couldn’t believe that after all these years he had finally been reunited with her. And what was better was that she had actually admitted to having feelings for him too!

Don’t get too excited, he thought to himself. She said she used to have a crush on you. That was a very long time ago.

He tried not to seem too eager when the stream finally ended. He waited for someone else to leave the call first before he exited out of it himself. He waited another few minutes before messaging (Y/N) directly on Discord.

hey. it was fun playing with you tonight. weird request, but can we voice call maybe? just the two of us?

Corpse didn’t expect her to respond any time soon. It was late in San Diego, like nearly 3am late. Most people were going to bed by now. She had mentioned once during the stream that she was starting to get sleepy. He figured she’d see it in the morning and either call, or just ignore the message.

To his surprise, near seconds later, she was calling him.

“Hey stranger,” she said when he answered. “Long time, no speak. You must’ve missed my voice a lot, huh?”

Corpse chuckled. “Exactly, I really did.”

“Makes sense. I do have the best voice on the internet.” She laughed this time. It sounded like such a perfect sound. “For real though, is everything alright? Why did you want to call?”

How did he even tell her? Hey, so you know that outcast you liked? It was me! Surprise!

No, he couldn’t say that. Maybe she wouldn’t even remember, or maybe she wouldn’t believe him. He had to figure out some way to bring it up.

“I kind of wanted to talk more about your popular school days,” he said, trying to keep his voice light and teasing. “It’s not every day I meet a streamer who’s in my own area code. It would be nice to get to know someone who isn’t like a five hour drive away.”

“Oh!” She seemed excited by this response. Her excitement was almost contagious. “Okay, where should I start? The shitty friends or the shallow popularity?”

Corpse chuckled. “You pick.”

She talked for nearly an hour about her high school experiences with her popular friend group. Despite how much she despised being popular, (Y/N) still spoke with a light tone in her voice. She tried to bypass a lot of the more negative details and speak only of the good experiences she went though, which was nice to hear.

Corpse nearly jumped with excitement when she began to talk about middle school unprompted.

“It really was the last good years I had in school,” she admitted. “All my friends, the ones who went on to be super popular with me, they were nice then. Annoying, but all middle schoolers are. We didn’t care about popularity or social rankings. We were just...we were just kids. We didn’t even really know the difference between ‘losers’ and ‘popular’, which was why it was so easy for me to talk to that guy that I liked at the time. My friends weren’t mocking me for having feelings for an outcast.”

“You said you never saw that guy again,” Corpse said. “Do you know what happened to him?”

She sighed heavily. “No, I don’t. He just stopped showing up before we hit high school. I thought he moved, but I knew his mom and I saw her around everywhere. I don’t even remember his name anymore to look him up. Wherever he is, though, I hope he’s doing better. Even if they weren’t sucked completely into their popularity at the time, my friends and the other kids were still awful to him.”

“I feel that,” he said. “I wasn’t exactly the most liked kid in school. Before I dropped out I didn’t even have any friends.”

“That’s awful.”

“It wasn’t too bad. I’m not really a friendly person I don’t think. I’ve worked on it since that time, but the thought of trying to maintain a social relationship still gives me anxiety from time to time. There was one girl who tried to be friends with me the year before I dropped out though. She was nice.”

“What happened to her?”

Corpse smiled to himself. She would figure it out soon, he knew she would.

“I just didn’t hear from her after I dropped out,” he responded. “I guess that’s mainly my fault. I never reached out to her or anything, but I barley knew her name. Just her first time, and she never gave me a number or anything. I couldn’t look her up online. Maybe we just weren’t destined to be together.”

“I don’t know about that. Maybe you two were just right people, wrong time. Maybe you’ll cross paths again and finally have that opportunity to be friends with her again.”

“Maybe you’ll cross paths with that guy from your middle school, too.”

There was a prolonged silence. Corpse wondered if (Y/N) was starting to put the pieces together. He could barley even hear her breathe. The longer she went, the more worried he was becoming. He was about to say something when she finally spoke again.

“I made him a Valentine,” she said, her voice soft. “Special handmade one. He was the only one I gave it to. It had some really badly written, sappy poem in it. I watched him open it and...I really think he got emotional while reading it. Of course, he’d never tell anyone that.”

Corpse had gotten emotional over the Valentine (Y/N) had given him. It was the first real Valentine he had ever gotten. It wasn’t one of the generic ones that everyone gave out to every classmate so no one felt excluded. It was made from the heart, and that fact alone touched his. Like (Y/N) said, though, he didn’t let anyone know how emotional he had gotten. It would’ve just been more mental ammo for them to use to bully him.

He quickly got up from his chair, racing to his room where he had his box of memories shoved in his closet. It was little things from throughout his life that he kept in a shoebox. Whenever he felt particularly down or depressed, he would open the shoebox and look at all the things that made him smile.

At the very top of the box was (Y/N)’s Valentine.

He went back to his computer and took a picture of the Valentine using his phone.

“That sounds really nice,” he said as he went into the Discord app on his voice. “It must’ve meant a lot to him that you put so much time and effort into a handmade gift.”

“I don’t know if it did. I never got to ask him what his reaction was.”

“Oh, I’d bet anything he was happy.”

He sent the picture through Discord and waited for (Y/N) to open it. The silence between them felt deafening. The seconds felt like they had slowed to hours. He wondered what (Y/N)’s reaction would be. Maybe she’d be weirded out by the fact that Corpse kept the Valentine, or by the fact that Corpse was the middle school crush in general.

What if she’s upset that this is who I am now? he asked himself. What if her crush was just a middle school thing, and the moment you dropped out she moved on?

“I knew it.”

Corpse couldn’t help the smile on his face when he heard the slight excitement in (Y/N)’s voice.

“I knew it was you!” she continued. “Well, I didn’t know know, but when you asked me to call you I had a bit of a suspicion. I can’t believe it...it’s actually you!”

“It is me,” he confirmed. “And it’s you.”

“Small world we live in, huh?”

“Yeah, small world.” Do you still like me? Did you ever stop? Do you know that your kindness stuck with me for so long?

The silence returned. Corpse was starting to get sick of it, but he didn’t know how to fill the void between them. When he heard her yawn, he realized how late it had gotten. “I’ll let you go, you sound tired.”

“We just had this breakthrough and you’re asking me to sleep?!”

Corpse chuckled. “You have to sleep eventually, (Y/N). It’s like 3:30am, normal people sleep at this hour.”

“I am offended you would think I’m anywhere near normal.” She yawned again, cutting off her short lived rant. “But you’re right, I am tired. Listen...promise me you’ll answer when I call tomorrow. I...I’d really like to catch up. Maybe...to pick up where we left off.”

“Okay,” Corpse said, then realized that wasn’t really a response. “I promise. I’ll be waiting by the phone the moment I open my peepers.”

(Y/N) giggled. “I’ll be sure to call you the moment I open mine.”

“Goodnight (Y/N). Sleep tight.”

“Goodnight Corpse underscore Husband.”

kind of a bad ending, but i wasn’t really sure where else to go with it as i wrote it. sorry! :(

#corpse husband #corpse husband imagine #corpse #corpse imagine #corpse x reader #request #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic

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parkerslatte · 4 years

Text

A Little Convincing

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Derek tries to convince Spencer to propose to Y/N but Spencer isn't sure she wants to get married.

MASTERLIST

***

“She’s not going to say yes.” Spencer said as he collected his things to go home. Y/N had left a while ago since she had finished all of her work so Hotch allowed her to leave early. Spencer, however, still had paperwork to get through so he was one of the last people leaving. Y/N said she would wait for Spencer to finish so they could go back to their apartment together but he refused, not knowing how long he was going to be.

“Of course she is,” Derek reassured Spencer, “Why wouldn't she?”

“She’s never even talked about getting married. What if she doesn’t want to marry me? What if when I ask, she leaves me?” Spencer said.

“Kid, you’ve been together five years, she’s not gonna leave you.” Derek tried to calm Spencer down again.

“You don’t know that,” Spencer said, slinging his bag over his shoulder, “I should get going.” Without another word, Spencer left.

Over the course of the next couple of days, Y/N had noticed a shift in Spencer’s behaviour. She found it strange since he wasn’t normally like that but she guessed that it was down to stress. Even if it wasn’t that, Y/N wasn’t going to push him, she would let him tell her in his own time.

Obviously Derek had also noticed the shift in Spencer’s behaviour and he knew the exact reason why, unlike Y/N. He tried to question him about it multiple times but every time Spencer would either change the subject or drop the conversation entirely. Derek was sick of his friend feeling the way he was so he tasked Penelope to bring up the topic of marriage around Y/N.

After a few days of Spencer acting strangely and Y/N giving him space, Penelope decided that now was the perfect time to bring up the topic around Y/N. She sat with Penelope while she ate her lunch, keeping the blonde woman company. Penelope had searched up wedding rings online and began scrolling through them hoping it would catch Y/N’s eye.

Y/N looked up from her lunch to Penelope’s screen and her eyebrows furrowed, “Why are you looking at wedding rings?”

“Oh they’re all just pretty and shiny. It distracts me from the dead bodies I see on the screen everyday.” Penelope stated.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed slightly, she knew Penelope wasn’t telling her the full truth but she decided not to ask. She only took a seat next to Penelope and looked at them with her.

“Oh, that one’s nice!” Y/N exclaimed, pointing to one of the rings on the screen, “I bet it would look great on my finger as well.” Y/N held her hand up and looked at her finger and the screen, imagining what the ring would look like on her finger.

“I thought you didn’t want to get married?” Penelope asked.

“Oh no, of course I do one hundred percent,” Y/N said before sighing, “I just don’t think Spencer wants to get married. He hasn’t brought the topic up in conversation at all. I couldn’t imagine marrying anyone else other than Spencer. I want to start a family with him too, I know he wants kids and I want them as well, but I’m just not sure he wants them with me. ”

“Of course he wants to marry you, who wouldn’t?” Penelope said, causing Y/N to smile, “And he wants to start a family with you, he loves you so much.”

Y/N gave Penelope a small smile, “Thanks. Anyway, I should get back to work, see you later, Pen.” After Y/N left the room, Penelope sent a picture of the ring that Y/N liked straight to Derek.

Derek heard his phone buzz. He looked down at it and saw a picture of a ring with a message. She likes this one. Derek looked over at Spencer who was completely engrossed in his work. He messaged Penelope that he would take Spencer to get the ring after work.

Later that day, Hotch allowed everyone to go home early due to most of the work being complete. Spencer shot up ready to leave as quickly as possible but Derek approached him.

“Pretty boy, you and I are going out.” Derek said, placing a hand on Spencer’s shoulder guiding him away.

“Why? I was going to leave with Y/N.” Spencer said, looking around for his girlfriend.

“She’s leaving with Penelope, JJ and Emily, they’re having a girl’s night. I overheard them talking about it.” Derek hadn’t heard them talk about having a girls night, all he knew was that Penelope was going to do something with Y/N while he and Spencer went to buy the ring.

“But-” Spencer tried to walk away from Derek once again, but Derek had a firm hand on his shoulder.

“No, no, we’re going out.” Derek said and before Spencer knew it, Derek was driving him to a jewelry store.

“What are we doing here?” Spencer asked, a confused expression gracing his features.

“Getting this. You brought money right?” Derek said, holding up his phone to show the picture of the ring Penelope sent him earlier that day.

“What? No, no. We’re not getting that. Derek I told you, she probably doesn’t want to marry me.” Spencer said, and began to walk away from Derek, slightly annoyed that he had brought him here.

“I can assure you she wants to marry you, Reid.” Derek said, looking at his friend who had stopped in his tracks.

“And how do you know that? Did she tell you? Because why wouldn’t she tell me.” Spencer said.

“I just know okay, but she does want to get married. I can promise you that.” Derek said.

Spencer was silent for a moment. He looked at the photo on Derek’s phone and looked at the jewelry store they were standing in front of. Spencer sighed before taking the phone from Derek and walking into the store. Before her could change his mind, he bought the ring right away and threw away the receipt.

When Spencer exited the store with the small velvet box in his hand, he couldn’t help but smile. If Derek was right about Y/N wanting to get married, he was going to marry the love of his life. However, if he was wrong, then Spencer would just be left with the constant reminder that Y/N didn’t want to marry him.

Derek clapped Spencer on the back, a smile on his face as well, “Now there’s only one thing left to do.”

***

Y/N was sitting on her desk, she had left with Penelope but they had quickly returned when Penelope said that she had forgotten something. Y/N fiddled with the bracelet around her wrist. It was the bracelet Spencer got her for their one year anniversary. Since it had been placed on her wrist, she hadn’t taken it off much. It was one of her most prized possessions.

Y/N’s mind drifted to Spencer. She was confused as to why Derek was so eager to leave with him since Y/N and Spencer planned on leaving and going out for dinner. He had been acting strange for the last couple of days so Y/N had made dinner reservations. She thought it would help him relax. Penelope reassured her that Derek only needed Spencer’s help with something.

Somebody cleared their throat causing Y/N’s to snap her head up. Spencer stood there clutching his bag strap. Y/N smiled as she approached him. She pecked his lips before taking his hands in hers.

“I thought you needed to help Derek with something?” Y/N asked.

Spencer cleared his throat again, “It’s all sorted out.”

“Oh well, if it’s all sorted out do you still want to go out for our dinner, I’m sure Penelope won’t mind.” Y/N said, lacing her fingers with his.

“Of course, I’d love to,” Spencer said, suddenly feeling nervous, “But there’s something I need to do first.”

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed at Spencer’s sudden change in demeanor, “Are you okay? You seem nervous.”

“I’m fine, it’s just that I, um, I want to ask you-” Spencer cut himself off, suddenly at a loss for words, which didn’t happen often.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Y/N placed her hand on Spencer’s forehead, “You’re not coming down with anything, are you?”

“No, I’m fine, don’t worry,” Spencer sighed, “I just wanted to ask you if you would marry me?”

Y/N slowly removed her hand from Spencer’s forehead, “What?”

“I asked if you want to marry me?” Spencer said, with some more confidence.

A smile broke out across Y/N’s face, “You’re asking me to marry you?” She said happily.

Spencer smiled slightly, “Yeah.”

“Of course I’ll marry you!” Y/N exclaimed, wrapping her arms around Spencer’s neck and pulling him in for a hug, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck.

Spencer wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her close to his body, breathing out a sigh of relief. The two stood there for a while before someone cleared their throat. The two broke away from each other and found their entire team standing there with smiles on their faces. No one said anything for a moment before Derek spoke up.

“The ring?”

Spencer’s eyes widened before he reached into his bag and pulled out a small velvet box. He opened it to show Y/N the ring and she gasped before looking at Penelope, “You!” Penelope only smiled, her eyes glistening with tears. She was beyond happy for her friends.

Spencer took the ring out of the box and slid the ring onto Y/N’s finger. He brought her hand up to his lips and placed a kiss on her knuckles. Y/N placed her hands on either side of Spencer’s face before bringing him closer, connecting their lips. Their team cheered for them but all Y/N and Spencer could focus on was each other.

They pulled away after a moment and smiled at each other, “I know it wasn’t the perfect proposal-” Spencer started but he was cut off.

“It was perfect to me.” Y/N said before she pressed her lips to his once again.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #matthew gray gubler

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absurdthirst · 4 years

Note

Hello!! So I've send this request back when they were closed but I didn't know that (so sorry!!) And since your inbox got deleted I thought I would send again. It's one where Marcus or Frankie meets the reader on Tinder, could be pure fluff or pure smut. I just wanna see what's really like meeting a nice guy in that app since I haven't had much luck lol

***Full disclosure......I have never been on Tinder. Or any other dating app. I’m too old and married it seems. 🥴

Swipe Right

The fact that he posted a photo that also included other hot guys caught your attention. Scrolling through the app that only seemed to highlight people at the height of what they considered appealing, it was nice to see someone in a more relaxed setting.

He was in the middle man in a group of five. All of them dirty and seemingly soldiers from the guns you could see strapped to their waists. Appearing to be friends, you kept looking at the man in the tan pants and the dirty red jacket. His smile makes you wonder if that glimpse of a dimple you think you see is real.

“Francisco Morales, 42.” You sip your coffee and stare at the picture again. “7 miles away. Huh, why haven’t I run into you, Francisco?”

Delving into the biography you smile as you read it. “Former military pilot, so yeah, I’m divorced. Single dad, just looking for someone to hold a conversation with that doesn’t puke on me.”

Chuckling to yourself, you can’t help but press the green heart. Tapping on the message screen you decide that you are going to send him a message. With your tongue between your teeth and feeling flirtier than you had in a long time you quickly type out the message.

“For clarification purposes, is it the friends or the kids that puke on you? 😂 These are important things to consider.”

You hit send and close the app, not expecting a reply anytime soon but hoping your comment at least makes him laugh.

About an hour later your phone dings. Picking it up, you get the notification that someone, Francisco has matched with you and sent you a message back. Opening up your phone you start giggling at his response.

“Mostly the kid, but sometimes it’s the other idiots too.” You love the fact that it's pretty straightforward and decide that there must be some sarcasm in there too. Messages can be hard to interpret tone but you like that he’s willing to throw his friends under the bus.

“Full disclosure then, my last adventure in competitive hurling was in college.” You type out. “Does that give me an advantage?”

His answer is surprisingly quick. “Absolutely. Considering I’ve been puked on today, you’re in the lead. Daughter, not idiots this time.”

“Really? How old is your daughter?” You assumed the child had to be young or sick to have thrown up on him today.

“She’s 7 months old and decided she did not like the sweet potatoes this morning. 🤮” You raise your eyebrows at how young his daughter is, but don’t want to assume anything. He had stated he was divorced and you hoped that was the case.

As if he read your mind another message popped in. “Full disclosure of my own. I’m divorced and have full custody of my daughter. The idiots made this profile and put it on my phone. Told me I needed to talk to a female who does more than blow raspberries at me.”

“Is that why your profile pic is a group photo?” You ask him, curious if they had set up everything.

“No, I changed it, but I don’t take many photos. I guess the word is selfies? I’m, uh, new to all this.” You could understand, the dating world had changed so much. Going from meeting in person to meeting online.

“Well, maybe we could get to know each other the old fashioned way? Meet up for a drink? I promise not to puke on you. 😜” You bite your lip as you send that message, knowing that it was a little forward of you. Normally you talked to guys far longer before you suggested meeting in person, but you enjoyed his honesty.

It took a few minutes for him to reply, enough time for you to start second guessing yourself before a new message popped up. “My sitter said she can watch my daughter tonight. If you’re free?”

Your smile is wide as you reply.

****

You walk into the bar, looking around to see if you can spot the man in the picture. Craning your neck to look over the heads of other people, and trying to tell yourself not to worry when you don’t immediately spot him. You are always early, sometimes annoyingly so to others, and there’s no reason for you to assume he’s stood you up because you are fifteen minutes early.

A movement catches your eye and you turn your head, surprised when you see him tossing his hand up and standing up from the high topped table about thirty feet away from you. Your name comes out over the din of people and he walks towards you with an almost relieved look on his face.

“Hey, sorry.” He walks up to you and for a moment you think he’s going to shake your hand, instead he swipes his hands down the front of his jeans nervously before motioning to the table behind him. “I’m always early, so I figured I could get us a table.”

You smile at that, a man after your own heart. “Must the military training?” You ask and he nods, giving you a small smile as he touches your upper back respectfully while walking you over to the table and pulling out the high back chair.

“Fifteen minutes prior is drummed into my system.” He agrees. “Drove my ex, uh, shit….sorry.” He murmurs, flushing slightly and giving you a wary look. “Way to immediately start off wrong. It’s uh, been awhile since I’ve dated.”

You wave it off with a shrug of your shoulders. “It’s a part of your past. I’m sure I’ve got plenty of stories about ex’s if you want to compare.” You quip and you see his shoulders slump in relief and you are delighted to discover that dimple is real when he shoots you a wide grin.

He’s real. There is an easy, comfortable air about him. He’s not trying to impress you, per say, but he had at least worn a nice button up and his hat was sitting on the table, worn and obviously well loved. The same one he had worn in the profile picture. His patchy stubble doesn’t look like he’s neglecting personal grooming, just that he can’t fully grow a beard and it's endearing.

A few beers for him and a couple of glasses of wine for you later, both of you are laughing and trading stories. Francisco or Frankie, has a nickname you don’t quite understand. “Catfish” is what he is called by his idiot friends. “It was my call sign in the Army.” He tells you, shrugging his shoulders.

“But Catfish?” You ask and he grins again.

“It worked.” He leans back and you admire the way that his neck stretches when he tips his beer bottle back to take a long drink. The way that his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed made you look away, a bit flustered by the fact that you wanted to press your lips against it.

You had learned a bit more about him. His background in the Army and his history with his ex. He blamed himself for her leaving, his issue with substance abuse. You had been surprised when he had been so honest about his past. “I fucked up and handled shit wrong.” He looks down at his hands, frowning. “But I’ve been sober since I found out my ex was pregnant. Fifteen months, and I will stay that way for my daughter.” He says quietly.

You respected that, liked that he told you so you could make an informed decision about him. Obviously there were some things that you knew were deeper than he let on. A flash of sorrow bursts in his brown eyes when he said that the man with his arm around him had passed away recently. A mission gone wrong, prompting his decision to not do that kind of thing anymore. You offered your condolences and he had changed the subject.

Looking at his watch sometime later, his eyes widened and he looked at you with regret. “I’ve got to go, the sitter will need to get home and -”

“I understand.” You did, even if you were disappointed that he had to leave. “I, uh, I had a good time.” You offer, giving him a smile.

Frankie nodded, standing up and taking a step closer to your chair to where you lean back to look up at him. “So if I were to, say, ask for your number, would that be okay?” He bites his lip and looks away. “I don’t actually like that damn site, and I’d rather call you.”

You giggle at him and nod, pulling out your phone. “I would like that.”

Frankie’s smile definitely makes your stomach erupt in butterflies and you are so glad you had chosen to swipe right.

MasterList

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