#because before these projects were released BEFORE anyone even knew about it

[taikova]

if you use image generating apps, no matter what you're using it for, you're actively training it. they're so unethical and until there are copyright-respecting rules in place about how the "art ai" are trained it will continue to be so. im sorry but its heinous, all of it.

if you're a person with their pictures or art or anything image-based like that online, you've been stolen from and you wont see a cent from it cause its such a wide scale theft that'd be impossible. and it IS going to be used to replace any working artist at these corporations and businesses' earliest convenience.

#it makes me so mad #it doesn't matter that the art is ugly - it can be trained to imitate any artist who can't stop the theft fast enough #because before these projects were released BEFORE anyone even knew about it #its getting muddier and muddier to get just how much people have been stolen from. the argument that ''its all samey and ugly'' is missing #the point #just. ugh #seriously considering deleting everything because of it

[fairuzfan]

The reason why I always say that Palestinians know the system better than anyone else is because we can see how it's weaponized to its fullest, yes, but we also see the multitude of ways they use the backing of the government system to blatantly lie about who we are and turn people against us. The government only ever benefits those in power and the people refusing to abandon the power of the government are the people with the most to lose in these situations. People who argue "Oh that's not how the government spending works" when we point out how money is used for war rather than spending for community projects don't understand, or maybe don't want to understand, that this in itself is the problem we are trying to draw attention to.

And even with things like... pointing out that the """"peace festival"""" was on the border of Gaza, which is said to be a "security threat" by the Israeli government, and was given permission to EXTEND its festival there — people still scoff that I would DARE say this when SO many people lost their lives but it still holds true in that these people conducting the festival really did not care they were across the street from a concentration camp as they celebrated whatever the fuck they were celebrating and that they lost their lives celebrating while they KNEW there people starving and locked up in a huge CAGE — what makes it worse is that the Israeli government gave it a stamp of approval. Like isn't that messed up? Isn't that absolutely batshit?? If you told ME you're holding a party a couple miles away from the concentration camps in America out of literally EVERYWHERE you could go, I'd be like "You're incredibly cruel" and I'd stop being your friend.

And when we come back to October 7th, like what's really ridiculous to me is that al-Qassam would go on a killing spree despite the fact that they had a time sensitive mission with a clear goal (that they already put into effect!) of getting hostages, hiding, and negotiating for the release of Palestinian prisoners. They don't have fucking time to go find and behead 40 babies, let alone need or WANT to, but somehow the state managed to twist this into a perverse act of vengeance that the unruly Brown Man has been itching to do to the poor and innocent White People (who also live across the street from the concentration camp) and people ate it up because of course those TERRORISTS want to kill people for no reason, of course. Nevermind that they stated their goal. Nevermind that they are trying to release political prisoners that the PA avoids helping at all costs. What they were doing in that kibbutz was only to kill and maim and torture because THATS what the state of Israel told me and Hamas is a bunch of antisemitic bloodthirsty men who only want to sew discord into your lives.

You people who are still using Israeli talking points about hamas but still proclaim "support" for Palestine are just so transparent in how you want to dictate Palestinian liberation to suit your own needs before it helps Palestinians.

#palestine #just rambling to myself at this point

[cxlamarisalxmi]

Blue

[Platonic Headcanons]

c/w: suicidal thoughts and tendencies, angst, foul language, grief and loss

a/n: the trailer for modern warfare 3 was dropped and it’s due to release in November… obviously I had to do this <3 also.. totally not projecting my own feelings and struggles in here….. definitely not—

—

[Unedited]

• When you were younger you didn’t have much, your mother was absent your entire life after she had left you on your father’s doorstep after a one night stand and he didn’t have much before you were unceremoniously dumped into his life

• When he managed to bring himself to actually calm down he sat a moment to think things through, he wasn’t sure he was the father type and he wasn’t sure he could raise you properly— but he certainly tried

• And for you.. that was enough

• He did the best he could, you had no shame in admitting that, but in the eyes of an outsider it was never enough, he wasn’t making enough money for it to be enough.. now that you looked back on it there was only ever one thing you ever had to say about him—

“The bravest man I knew, he didn’t have a lot on his own.. had even less with me around but he made do. We made do. And he was more than enough for me.”

• He was murdered when you were sixteen, you remember in the trial regarding the case that it had something to do with being involved with the wrong people and those people had come to collect something he didn’t have

• His death tore you apart

• And because of it— you adopted a guarded and fiercely independent personality that made you seem cold to the outside world and the people surrounding you

• You joined up after that, with nothing to lose and a suffocating ache in your chest born of frustration and grief you had hoped this was you writing your death certificate and that the skeletal depicted, scythe wielding spirit would come for you sooner rather than later

• Driven to it by the desperation for a way out, anything to get rid of the searing ache in your chest, burning hot and angry like a smoldering fire that you didn’t see snuffing out anytime soon

• Only when you were gone from this world could you be freed from this pain, that’s how you saw it anyway, and that’s what you wanted… more than anything

• It was the loneliness of isolation that really drove you to your brink, you didn’t want to be alone… but you didn’t want to burden anyone with your issues that you couldn’t see resolving and you couldn’t bring yourself to believe you were deserving of it either— a vicious cycle

• After awhile with your team of marines you had gained the callsign; ‘Blue’ —for your rather glum outlook on life, and for the consistent and deep sadness you had that seemed to weigh so heavily upon you

• Things changed when you were put on a special ops team, having soared through your physical exams and grown to be a strong and capable individual it really came as no surprise your commanding officers sought to place you in a team that would strengthen and enrich your potential

• You struggled to find your place within the team at first, all of them having already been together long enough to form bonds stronger than anything, you felt like an outcast and maybe in the beginning you felt okay with that

• Because in the first months of your career within the team you still withheld any emotion other than indifference to a cold and bitter world that hadn’t done anything for you or in your favor

• So you didn’t make an effort to get close with any of them— not for lack of effort on their part, but for the self acknowledgment you had that you disregarded your life

• When Price had found out through Laswell that your mother was absent and your father passed three years ago he put the pieces together on why you outright refused to let yourself fall in line with them, input yourself into their tight knit family circle

• He learned that your father was your everything, how deeply you respected and admired him for everything he sacrificed for himself to give you more than what he had to offer, and everything made sense

• You didn’t want to involve yourself with them outside of work because you didn’t think your heart could handle any more loss of those close to you, but with the way you were going through life soullessly and reckless, he was sure you wouldn’t survive another damn day

• Another reason you didn’t want to get close to him and the rest of the team, because you didn’t plan to be alive for much longer

• And that bothered him, it twisted something in his chest and knotted up his stomach that someone so young couldn’t handle being alive anymore, didn’t want to stick around long enough to see just how much life had to offer if you opened yourself up to it

• It bothered him enough to corner you one night after a particularly harrowing mission in which you almost lost your life— he hated that you were irate you didn’t

• He didn’t want to force anything out of you that you weren’t ready to speak about, or make you uncomfortable in any way but he had to do this, else you’d deteriorate more and more until you were but a shell or worse— six feet in the ground (if you’d get lucky enough to be put in a coffin, but if he were to be honest and if he’d allow the reality to settle in his stomach you’d no doubt meet your inevitable end on the battlefield, another corpse at the feet of a government that didn’t care about you in the slightest)

• But he managed to get you to open up about it, managed to draw you out from within the thick and barbed barriers defending your broken and vulnerable heart and soul, and you wept everything to him, he just brought you in his arms and held you against his chest comfortingly and lovingly

• After that you had opened yourself up to the others too, and they were more than ready to accept your friendship and in the following months you had grown to love them and they you— you had fit well within their warmth and family

• In getting closer with them —Price most of all— you had developed a fiercely overprotective nature, refusing to let the world take them, take him who had shown you so much this life could offer to you, you wouldn’t lose Price or any of them like you lost your father

• It made you reckless with your life once more, only this time because you kept putting yours on the line for his sake, that made him angrier than when you were doing it just because you didn’t want to be alive anymore

• He shut that shit down real quick, and though you were certainly less inclined to be so quick to throw your life away, you didn’t quite quit being protective enough over your team to offer your life up instead of theirs

• Ghost hated to admit that you had quickly grown on him, past that prickly persona and cold indifference he had about him there was a hurt and broken shell of a man, a man named Simon that Ghost was built to protect and shelter

• You recognized the numb look in his eye, the fiercely guarded yearn for love from another— because you had been the exact same way, and you could easily see it through the barbed barriers he built around his broken and vulnerable heart

• It was easy for you to worm your way into said heart, because again— you knew that look, maybe you didn’t experience the same things but you both had been hurt by the world and the people within it enough to draw back into yourselves and construct a personality to protect the vulnerability you sheltered inside

• His was more aggressive sure.. but, that didn’t stop you from taking the initiative to chisel away at his thickly built concrete walls to access his center, the most tender part of him— Simon

• He was shocked by how quickly you managed to intricate yourself into his very short list of people he genuinely cares about, and maybe at first he fought it, fought how safe and comforted you made him feel, but after awhile he sort of just ran with it.. even grew to like it

• And you became the shoulder he could lean on, someone he could depend on you be there and have his back— he counted on you, and you were eager to show him he did not make a mistake in who he put his faith in

• And you hadn’t yet, missions were run a whole helluva lot easier now that you had fit yourself into their puzzle and connected yourself as an essential part of the well oiled machine their team turned out to be

• Gaz and Soap in their own ways had grown on you rather quick after Price managed to get you to let go of the suffering and pain you had weighing on your shoulders, and you surprised yourself by not really minding it

• They both were so unique in their own ways that made you fond of them, and they were both so eager to make you feel welcome and needed when you finally accepted the idea of family through bonds of blood and hardships

• You were an essential part of the team, they needed you just as you needed them.. and you’re really glad you had managed to find them when you needed it (not that you would ever say that to them, lest you wish to give Gaz and Soap egos the size of fucking Mars)

• Sometimes it was hard, there were some days that were tougher than others and some days where you wished you hadn’t woken up at all but your boys were always quick to help you through

• And you loved them more than anything, it took months after your first initial addition to the team for you to admit that to yourself— even longer to admit it to them.. but you did, well and truly loved them

• You would do anything for them, just as they would do anything and everything for you

• They couldn’t ever fill the ever prominent hole in your heart nor gaping pit in your soul but they overwhelmed your feelings of grief and sadness with home and warmth instead, so strong and comforting that you couldn’t even feel the lingering pain in your heart

• You’d go to Hell and back to protect that— go through anything and everything to protect your bond you shared with them

• Because they were worth it

—

a/n: this feels kinda meh and they’re short.. but, definitely expect to see Blue more often, and maybe some other characters (reader) I’ve got in mind hehe <3

#cod mw2 #modern warfare 2 #cod x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #gaz x reader #price x reader #platonic reader #x platonic!reader #platonic imagine #cod x teen reader #x teen!reader

[bippot]

Ooo can I please request an Adrian Chase/Vigilante x fem!innocent!reader where she is Peacemaker’s younger sister who’s in her early twenties. She hasn’t seen her brother since she was around 5 years old because her Mom took her far away from the horribleness that is Peacemaker’s Father, not wanting her to grow up around that awful environment that Peacemaker was forced to grow up in. Peacemaker wanted to find his baby sister after he was released, but he got wrapped up in Project Butterfly. The butterflies find out about Peacemaker’s sister and threaten to go after her, but Amanda Waller won’t let him leave to go make sure she’s safe, so he sends Vigilante to go get her before the butterflies can get to her and bring her back to the team so that she’ll be protected from the Butterflies. Vig showing up at her apartment, not even explaining who he is or why he’s there before just picking her up in his arms and throwing her in his car lmao (leave it to Vig not to explain why he’s basically abducting her), she’d be crying and hitting him, trying to get away and he’s just like, “Hey hey hey, I’m just saving your life!!”and attempting to calm her down, she eventually calms down and he (finally lmao) explains that her big brother sent him to keep her safe, because bad people are after her. They have to hide out for a while, so it takes them a few months to even get back to the 11th Street Kids HQ. In that time, the two of them get really close and start a romantic relationship (starting to fall in love), him protecting her along the way any time danger happens. When they get back to where the team is, Peacemaker and Y/n have a sweet reunion, and also he’s pretty angry at Vig when he catches the two of them kissing lol

Summary ~ Peacemaker's mother fled with her unborn child when Chris was a teenager. He'd always wanted to find his family again, but he was too slow. After annoying Waller, he must send his friends out to help save his family, and Adrian finds out that he is more than willing to throw himself into danger to ensure that Peace's sister is unharmed.

Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Post-Canon, Rescue Missions, On the Run, Enemies to Lovers, Fights, Car Chases, Car Accidents, Unexpected Visitors, Mild Sexual Content, Alien Invasion, Bad Parenting, Happy Ending, One Big Happy Family, Idiots in Love

Peacemaker, Adrian Chase Masterlist - here

August Smith had pretended to be a nice guy for the first couple of years that Annabelle had been married to him. He'd seemed like a gentleman when they first met. Yes, he held some old fashioned views but so did her father and he was a nice enough man, so Annabelle didn't have any worries about their relationship in the beginning.

It was when Keith was born when his rhetoric began to amp up. Back then Annabelle had chalked her husband's actions up to feeling misplaced because he'd been fired from his job and replaced by someone who was far better suited in that position - who happened to be born with black skin - and needed time to sort out his feelings. But, Chris was born a few years later and he was still spewing vitriol so she came to the realisation that this was who Auggie truly was.

The White Dragon appeared in Evergreen and anyone with a functioning brain cell knew who was behind the mask. There was one guy in town who was gathering a white evangelical cult and going to every protest or social issues discussion to act as abhorrent as they could. And Annabelle was married to that guy. At that point, she had her boys to think about. She wanted to leave her god awful husband in the dust, but didn't want her boys to take up his views and had to go along with what Auggie said or she'd be punished for it.

Keith and Chris were homeschooled for as long as Annabelle could convince Auggie to let her, which didn't take much arguing when she pretended that she was concerned with their boys coming into contact with 'unsavoury folk'. In all honesty, she knew that they deserved to be taught about right and wrong from their parents - Auggie taught them about wrong, so she would teach them about right - but eventually the cult got big enough that there were enough children to create a classroom.

Then, the curriculum was set by Auggie and Annabelle was replaced as the sole teacher by a racist radical. She still tried to guide her sons when they were at home - Keith, maybe due to his age, seemed more receptive to her preaching of kindness than Chris was - and had to make it very clear to her sons they should never repeat her lessons in front of their dad.

As the cult grew, so did the number of Auggie's wives. Annabelle no longer had to deal with whatever he wanted because he'd moved into a separate trailer where he'd be free to do whatever debauchery he pleased without being interrupted by his annoying sons.

When the boys were old enough, both of them preteens, Annabelle had decided to pack all their stuff and drive away with her children. Auggie must've caught wind of this or maybe it was just chance, but the date she'd set for their departure was the day Keith died. After that, all of her hope disappeared and she allowed herself to be trapped in the hellhole her husband had created.

Years passed. Chris became more violent. Auggie was building an army. Annabelle had given up on anything resembling a happy life outside their trailer. It was then that a glimmer of something appeared in her life - saying it was hope that appeared seemed too hopeful at the time - so Annabelle just referred to it as 'something'.

To give her one last shot at making him his heir, Auggie paid attention to Annabelle after ignoring her for so long - he'd been preoccupied with the other women of the cult who were younger and more radical for some time - but now, he was pretending to be the nice gentleman he'd been when they first met. She knew it wasn't true. He was manipulating her to get her pregnant. Yet, Annabelle was so tired and it was nice to live in that fantasy for a few months more, so there was a brief but blissful part of the late 90's in which August Smith didn't abuse his son or wife.

Obviously, once the White Dragon found out that the baby was a girl, he went back to being a piece of shit. Annabelle knew she was on thin ice. And she also knew that Auggie had killed people - so many people - before. She never would've guessed that he'd demand that their baby girl was to be 'discarded' as soon as she was born because he didn't want his followers to think his seed was weak enough to produce a girl and abortions were a sin (any good evangelical can tell you that). The second that came out of his mouth, she knew that this fire under her ass would cause her to flee.

And despite all of her pleading, Chris decided to stay with his father. He was almost 18 at that point, almost a man, and she knew there was no way he was going to be swayed at this point in time. Maybe when he grew up a bit would he finally realise that his father was an abusive, controlling bastard who needed to go to jail for the rest of his days.

14 weeks pregnant and completely alone, Annabelle took what little belongings she had, stole a bag of cash that she knew Auggie left under his bed, and hit the road, never to come back to Evergreen ever again. She changed her name, made her situation known to the police and witness protection services, kept off the Internet, stayed as low profile as possible and tried to give her daughter the life her son's deserved to get too.

Y/N knew all of that. Her mother had been very honest and up front about what the horror she'd escaped when Y/N was old enough, and the entire time, Y/N couldn't help but feel for her brother. He had to deal with that monster all alone and was turned into a weapon because of it. She had vowed that one day she'd meet him and offer a helping hand if he wanted one.

During the whole Butterfly thing, Peacemaker demanded that Economos needed to do him one small, tinsy winsy favour to get back in his good books. Because John had framed Auggie, John now had to discover where Annabelle Smith was as payment. Economos didn't find any paper trail on Annabelle's location, but he did find Y/N. She had school reports, college admission, job applications that all had been saved in a witness protection file that John certainly should not have had access to - obviously witness protection needed to up their security system - under the umbrella name of 'Dragon'.

The file had led him to another that had lots of information about Auggie and Chris that accompanied the two women. It was a simple deduction, but one that John felt really proud about. And just like Economos, the butterflies had people who were collecting data about Peacemaker. Since he'd become their downfall, they'd purposefully taken over a hacker that could get into witness protection just as quickly as John did. They had the same information to make deductions on.

There was a few Glan Tai like institution's around and as The 11th Street Kids made their way through another, Adebayo locked herself in a control room to escape from a horde and - later down the line - a bomb that Vigilante had stole from Peacemaker's belt because he wanted to see the huge jar the aliens kept their nectar in go boom. Whilst killing time, Leota had searched the room and found a file cabinet just under the computer desk that contained information about every member of their team and secrets the Butterflies had found out about them.

Weirdly - or not so weirdly because he rarely takes off his mask - Adrian's file was the shortest. It was a list of his crimes and, though it was a fairly long list, there wasn't a through line that could point to his identity.

Leota's was useless. The big secret they'd attributed to her was who her mother was and, yeah, she'd admitted that on national TV.

Economos had two restraining orders against him. He wasn't allowed to come 100 yards from both Joan Jett and Dolly Parton until they were lifted in 2012 and 2015 respectively.

Inside Harcourts were pictures of a very pretty, dainty young ballet dancer. It took Leota a few minutes to realise that the girl was Harcourt. These weren't damning on their own, but when they were paired with the paper clipping that said, 'The Sun. Ballet Bash - Young Immigrant Taken In For Questioning Over A String of 'Accidental' Deaths' and an article about many suspicious murders that had happened when Emila had been a student at The Royal Ballet School in Covent Gardens, London.

Peacemaker's file was a hefty one. There was so much documentation. About his prison time. About Corto Maltese. About the White Dragon. And the situation around the White Dragon's death. About the cult. About Keith. About what little they could find about Annabelle. About Y/N.

In the depths of her search, Adebayo didn't hear when the remaining butterflies were shot and Vigilante yelled on the other side of the door for her to come out. She had noticed that whoever had been on the computer last hadn't logged out and was getting video updates about where the girl from Peacemaker's file was. As clear as day, whoever this girl was, she was walking around a grocery store without a single clue that she was being watched by a bunch of aliens.

Another one of Peacemaker's bombs was detonated to blast through the control room door. Peace and Vigilante entered, guns drawn, and were prepared to save Adebayo from an alien weirdo. "Dude! You're not dying?" Vigilante called out after taking in the scene in front of him.

She ignored him and chose to ask, "Chris, who is this?" as she gestured to grocery shop girl. Both heroes rushed to catch a glimpse of what the hell Adebayo was pointing to.

"That's my sister." Chris held his finger up to his ear and clicked on the comms to declare, "Harcourt, tell Waller that I need a team to put my remaining family back in witness protection."

Waller wasn't one to be ordered around so was it any surprise that she declined the request for Y/N and Annabelle L/N to be found and placed in a safe house until further notice? And she forbade Peacemaker from making contact with his family to warn them in any way. The 11th Street Kids were ordered to do another sweep of the facility and head back to HQ as quickly as they could.

"Why are you freaking out?" Adrian questioned, bewildered that Peacemaker hadn't come to the same conclusion he had.

"I swear your head is filled with dogshit rather than actual functioning brain goo sometimes, asshole," Chris sighed, slumping against the van seats.

He'd always intended to make contact with his mother again. Chris had no idea whether she'd want that but it was worth a shot, right? Once Economos dug up the fact that he had a sister, Chris had promised himself that as soon as the butterflies were dealt with, he'd reintroduce himself to them. It seems that life has a way of messing with your plans.

"That's rude but I know you're going through some mental shit right now so I'm going pretend that you said something really complimentary to me, and for that, I thank you."

"Can you shut up for five fucking minutes? I need to think and your annoying bitchass voice is interrupting that!" Peacemaker stressed and let his head fall to his hands, his thumbs rubbing far too aggressive circles on his temples.

"Woah, all I was going to say was that Waller said you weren't allowed to go."

"Yeah, no shit, dumbass."

Adrian pulled off his visor and nudged his elbow into the meat of Chris' bicep, suggesting that, "She didn't say I couldn't go. Or Harcourt couldn't. Adebayo will probably get loads of shit from her mom if she did so she's out too. Economos is a pussy."

For once, the idiot had a good idea. "I get your sister. Harcourt gets your mummy. Badda bing, badda boom. You get what you want without disobeying Waller," he explained as if it should've been the first thing on everyone's minds. He looked at Chris expectantly with a smug expression plastered across his face.

Everyone was astonished. They were speechless until Harcourt confirmed from the passenger's seat, "That actually works."

"I'm a genius, yeah," Adrian preened, leaning back against the cool metal side of the van, only to jump away and complain, "Wow, that's really cold against the back of your head! It's not comfy at all!"

It was settled. Vigilante had come up with a plan and they were going to execute it. They'd get to HQ. Adebayo and Peacemaker would stay back and feed other Vigilante and Harcourt updates on the L/N's position so they could have plausible deniability if Waller looked into it as Economos set up the safe houses.

Darkness had arrived by the time everything was ready to go. Harcourt was very polite when she knocked on Peacemaker's mother's door at an ungodly hour and she explained the situation to Annabelle so swiftly that left her house without much fuss. Vigilante went down another route.

In the dead of night, he decided that the best course of action was to smash one of her windows in and climb through there. He stalked through her house in silence but took a misstep and caused the floorboard under his foot to squeak and reveal his position.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

A baseball bat came swinging around a corner and, if he didn't have such good reflexes, would've hit him in the head. He dodged it expertly and dropped his shoulder closer to the ground so he could rugby tackle her into the next room, which happened to be a bedroom. His shoulder connected with her collarbone, the momentum of the push sending them both plummeting onto her mattress with a bouncy thump.

"Sh...Shh...Don't yell at me!" He whined quietly as he tried to calm her down. It didn't work. She tried to wiggle her arm free from under him and take another swing, but he caught her by the wrist and disarmed her. "You're being so no cool right now."

"Get off me, you rapey motherfucker!"

He eased off her because, duh, he was a random man in a mask who'd broken into her house and tackled her onto a bed. He didn't think of the implications of that when he'd done it. "Oh shit, my bad."

"What are you doing in my house?" she demanded, pushing him off her and sitting herself up. Obviously, she didn't trust him one bit and had clocked where he'd thrown her bat and four other things in her room that could be used as impromptu weapons if need be.

"Hi, my name is Vigilante - no, that's not my real name."

"Yeah, no shit."

"Sorry about the, y'know, breaking and entering thing. I know a guy who can fix that window for you in no time. I'll give you his number when we're done with this whole thingamajig," he said so casually it made her even more suspicious.

She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a look that screamed, 'what the fuck are you talking about?' so he felt the need to do more explaining. "You're being watched, by the way. Just so you know. I saw on the cameras that you bought a bunch of pads and tampons at the store today so I know what's going on down there, don't you worry. I'll be gentle," he admitted and even winked at her in an attempt to assure her that everything would be okay. It didn't. Y/N was fully convinced that he was a creep about to kidnap her for nefarious purposes.

Just as she lunged for her alarm clock to smash over his head, he caught her by the waist and hoisted her over his shoulder. No matter how much she punched and kicked him, he continued to march straight out the door and towards the Vigilante-mobile parked outside the house. None of her neighbours made any indication that they were aware something was going on, despite the fact a woman in pj's and fluffy socks was possibly being abducted right outside their windows.

"Put me down! Put me the fuck down!"

"Please stop making a scene! I'm trying to save your life and you're making that super difficult right now!"

Completely unfazed, he walked past the vehicle like nothing was happening, opened the back seat door and tossed Y/N inside before getting in the driver's seat. He turned to face her to warn, "You really should put your seatbelt on," and drove off to the coordinates John sent.

"Who is Economos?" she asked when John's caller ID popped up on Vigilante's phone in the car stand thingamabob. Vigilante pressed to answer the call and soon found out that it was a video call, the faces of Chris and Leota appearing on the screen.

"Is Y/N secure?" Chris greeted, his voice racked with worry.

"Yeah, she almost bludgeoned me with a baseball and kicked the shit out of me, but yeah. She's safe, I guess," Vigilante said, trying to sound nonchalant but failing. In the moment, he'd done a great job at pretending that her attacks hadn't hurt. They had. He'd definitely be littered in bruises tomorrow.

"Chris?" Y/N leant forward and got in between the gap in the front seats, her head emerging into view. "Hi, um, why did this masked guy just kidnap me?"

There was a brief moment where Chris just stared at the video call, his brain unable to process the fact his sister had just spoken to him for the first time in his entire life. Leota nudged him with her elbow, mouthing at him with wide eyes, obviously asking him if he was okay. "Hi?" Y/N repeated, waving at him and looking confused. "Can you guys hear me? Hello?"

"Hi sis," he managed to reply after a moment.

The smile tugging at the corners of his mouth made it apparent that despite everything, her brother must trust Vigilante enough that he knew she wasn't in any danger. Then, he realised that she was under the impression that she was being kidnapped and that smile faltered. Vig did say she tried to get away from him.

"Adrian, what the fuck did you do?"

"Dude, you know not to use my real name!"

"How did you approach Y/N's retrieval?" Adebayo cut in, preparing herself to calm Peacemaker down when he heard what Vigilante had done. She didn't know exactly - well, she had a guess - but she knew they hadn't had a quiet and peaceful introduction.

Y/N answered for Vigilante. "He smashed one of my windows in and I thought he was an intruder ready to assault me."

"Vij! I'm going to punch you in the dick when I see you next!"

"Hey, hey," Adrian interjected, "What did I do wrong?!"

"Speaking as a woman, that sounds really scary. I'm sorry he put you through that, Y/N," Leota apologised. "He means well but tends to not think things through. I doubt he intended it to happen in the way that it did. Still, Vig, you should really apologise."

Sheepishly, Vigilante rubbed the back of his neck. "Erm, yeah, sure, sorry. Sorry about that. I didn't mean to... That was an accident. Not intentional, I swear to God. I thought you'd be asleep and I'd carry you to my car without any fuss and, yeah, saying it loud makes me realise how fucked up it sounds," he thought out loud, his focus flitting between the road and what her reaction was.

When all she did was stare at him, unimpressed, he felt the need to continue speaking. He began to ramble, "I imagined it like falling asleep on the couch when you were a kid and then waking up in your bed because your dad carried you there, and like, you're not mad because there's this brief window of time where you thought you had teleportation powers. Who doesn't want superpowers? I know I do, man, but..."

His rant trailed off and a small silence fell between them as he struggled to find the words to express himself adequately. The only thing he could think of doing was repeating, "I really am sorry" again. This seemed to ease some of her worries. She crawled into the passenger's seat and crossed her legs underneath her in an attempt to get somewhat comfortable.

"Why is this happening?" she wondered aloud, grabbing the phone so she was in frame. Vigilante looked across at her as she reached across the console, his gaze lingering slightly longer than strictly necessary on the expanse of bare thighs that were visible thanks to her sleep shorts riding up. He coughed and averted his eyes, focusing instead on the street signs as the city lights flashed in front of them.

"Some alien assholes are trying to get revenge on me but they can't get to me, so the next best thing is to get to you and mom," Peacemaker responded bluntly, yet as the subject of Annabelle came up, his voice got quieter and a little smaller as he added, "How is mom? Well, I got Harcourt to bring her to a safe house so I know she's physically okay, but how is she, like, doing doing? Generally? I haven't had the chance to speak to her yet."

Not having the chance wasn't exactly right. He did have a window of opportunity to video call with Harcourt and his mother but had been nervously freaking out at the time. It had been years since he'd talked to his mom, and he was scared she'd be disappointed with who he'd become. Y/N had never known him when he was a nice, naive kid so she had no idea how unsatisfactory he'd grown to be.

"Mama's doing great actually. She got her doctorate in child psychology last month and she's been working on some new programs for the kids she helps out at the community centre and stuff. Our mommy is a doctor," Y/N told him, pride evident in her voice as she spoke about her mother.

Times had changed, it seemed, and Chris felt a pang in his chest that he hadn't witnessed Annabelle in all her doctoral glory. He didn't know her while she was the best version of herself, but he would eventually.

"Yeah, that's cool."

Their signal got all wobbly as they got further away from the city, the trees thickening as their surroundings grew increasingly wilder and more remote. "We're breaking up, Peace. I'll message you when we get to the house," Vigilante announced before hanging up abruptly, not bothering to ask for permission. He glanced at Y/N. "Me and Peacemaker are BFF's, by the way. I mean, yeah, sure if you ask him he'd definitely say that Eagly is his ultimate best friend - twin flame kinda shit - but I'm his human BFF who saved his ass a bunch of times."

Letting out a sigh, Y/N let out a hum as a response - because, honestly, that's all she had to give - and shifted in her seat to try and get comfortable. She tested out a few positions and found that taking off her cardigan to roll up as a pillow, demanding that Vigilante turn up the heating so she'd be toasty (he was absolutely sweating in his suit and mask but thought he better get on her good side), and resting against the door window with her legs bent at the knee resting on the cushion was the best option. Her foot occasionally dangled near enough the gearstick that Adrian had to swat at them every once in a while so he could change gear.

"Stop touching my feet, creep."

"Stop getting in the way then, weirdo."

A smile crept onto Adrian's face as she stretched to kick him in the thigh. He caught her ankle in his hand and held it there, unconsciously caressing her skin in slow back and forth motions with his thumb, causing her lips to quirk up ever so slightly. When he was sure she was comfortable with him touching her, he pulled her foot into his lap then reached to the same with the other.

"We've still an hour and a half to drive, get some shut eye. I promise I won't shatter any windows and wake you if you promise that you wont try to batter me with the headrest as I drive. Deal?"

Y/N nodded her agreement and settled down to sleep. In her head, Y/N thought over exactly what had happened to her in the past few hours as she drifted off. It was a lot to make sense of and even if she somehow figured out how to wrap her brain around the fact she'd been kidnapped by her brother's BFF on his orders because aliens that look like little beautiful bugs were trying to hunt her down, she would've been more vigilant, but strangely, she felt comfortable enough in her kidnapper's presence to kick her feet up and turn her consciousness off.

There might be a lot more to understand in the future but for now she was too tired to care.

Looking at her, you wouldn't be able to figure out that Y/N and Peacemaker were siblings just by their faces. They didn't look anything alike. Adrian thought that his buddy was a good looking dude, but he wasn't on Y/N's level of beauty. As she slept, Adrian had to refrain from staring at her so he'd focus on driving to, y'know, not make them into roadkill but it was like tearing your eyes away from a Van Gogh painting or a Greek statue made out of the most perfect marble ever created.

Although, she snored so loudly that he had to turn the radio up just a smidge so he would actually be able to hear the songs that were playing in the background.

They were almost at the safe house when whoever was behind them drove straight into the back of the Vigilante-mobile, which perked Y/N up in an instant and made Adrian yell so many profanities. "What the fuck is going on?!" Y/N snapped awake, any grogginess that she might have felt directly after waking was pushed aside by her sheer panic.

"They found us!" Vigilante said, his voice tight and tense as he fought to hold the car steady, "There's a gun in the glove compartment, do you know how to shoot?"

The car sped up to come up right beside the side of the Vigilante-mobile and veered to smash right into it, breaking the window in one bang. "My mother escaped a redneck cult headed by a super villain, so yeah, I know how to shoot," she quipped, opening the glove box to retrieve the gun. She clicked the safety off, aimed the gun towards the vehicle's tyres when squeezed the trigger with no trouble.

"Shoot the people! Shoot the fucking people, not the car! Shoot the fucking people!" screamed Vigilante frantically, his voice growing louder and higher with each word.

"I don't want to kill anyone!" she yelled, shooting another bullet into the back tyre. "Oh my god! Oh my god, I'm gonna die. We're gonna die. Holy sh-"

"Give me the gun, Y/N!"

Vigilante snatched the gun out of her hands roughly and fired at the driver without hesitation or mercy. The driver was killed instantly, causing its head to slump against the wheel and press his forehead against the horn. The butterfly in the passenger's seat made a move to grab the steering wheel, but Vigilante took another shot and put them down quickly.

With the car now unmanned, it continued on its path to collide with the Vigilante-mobile, swerved it off the road entirely and pushed it onto its side. The moment it came to a halt, Adrian was urging her out of the broken windscreen - yeah, he accidentally put his whole palm on her ass to push her in the right direction - and scrambled after her to escape the crash zone.

"Oh shit, my car!" Vigilante whined as he saw his precious Sebring destroyed beyond recognition in a matter of seconds, his heart racing and feeling extremely uneasy. "Fuck! RIP the Vigilante-mobile, you were the fucking best. I fingered Tracey from the Starbucks opposite the cinema twice in there!"

"Do cars blow up? Or is that just a movie thing?"

"Fuck, I don't know. We better run just in case. Shit shit shit!"

He picked Y/N up like he'd done previously that night, but unlike last time, she went willingly and didn't kick him at all this time. He started running as fast as they possibly could away from the scene of the ambush. Once he was a distance he believed was adequate away, he gently set Y/N down.

"You okay?" Vigilante asked worriedly.

She sighed and glanced down at herself. Some of the broken glass had cut parts of her skin that was showing, so anything under the sleeve of her t-shirt and below the hem of her shorts was littered with nicks of varying severities and sizes.

"I think this looks worse than it actually is," she suggested, holding her arms up to show the cuts on her forearms and making Adrian wince sympathetically. He tenderly placed his fingers on her elbow and turned her arm so he could examine them further.

"They hurt."

"Yeah."

"Okay, shit... lemme think for a minute."

Adrian rubbed his temple as he pondered over his options. He knew there was a first aid kit in the safe house, but where was it? He'd never been great with orienteering and getting places without Google maps, and he'd left his phone in the Vigilante-mobile. So, he could either lead Y/N through a forest even though he had literally no idea what direction to go in, or risk climbing back into the possible exploding car to have a guide.

"I'll be right back," he warned Y/N before he started heading back in the direction from which they came.

"What the fuck are you doing?" She followed after him, her gaze shifting nervously around the area as if she expected to be ambushed again any second.

"Gonna find my phone. It shouldn't take more than two minutes."

Like an idiot, he climbed back into the car to retrieve his phone, the gun, and the packet of Jolly Ranchers he usually kept in the cup holder but had flown to the dash when the car turned onto its side. He also wrestled with the boot in an effort to get it open because there was extra clothes and snacks stashed inside a gym bag in there, and eventually yanked it open out of pure brute force.

Once he got the goods, he was hurrying back to Y/N. "Do you want a Jolly Rancher?" he offered casually, brandishing the packet in front of him. The packet was squished in between them as she trapped him in a hug.

"What's going on here?" Adrian wondered as he peered down at her curiously. "Are you at the cryie, emotional stage of your period?"

"I'm not on my period. Women tend to buy sanitary products before their periods start. That is, unless they've still got some or forgot and left it too late so that's the instance when they buy them during."

"Ah," Adrian said, nodding in understanding although he didn't really understand. She hadn't explained why she was hugging him, but it still was nice of her to do so and gave him some kind of comfort after he'd risked his life for a mobile phone.

Oh! She thought the car was going to explode and that he was going to die in a big fiery bang while she stood helplessly by as her mind raced in circles, wondering if she was going to have to fend for herself.

"I'm okay," he reassured, patting her hair softly and a little awkwardly. This kind of concern was new to him, giving and receiving. His hand lingered near the back of her head as he stroked her locks in what he hoped was a soothing manner since he certainly noticed that she leaned forward until her head laid against his chest piece and was taking deep breaths to calm her nerves and relax herself in his embrace.

He didn't know whether to feel happy or scared that someone cared enough about him to worry about his well-being, so he settled for a mixture of both. "We should start walking to the cabin," he suggested quietly and cleared his throat as he pulled away to get enough space to rifle through the bag to pull out some warmer clothes for her to wear.

"It's getting cold and your clothes have shards of glass and blood on them and your shirt is a little ripped, so yeah, you should put these on. I'll, uh, I'll give you some space to do that." He walked backwards, putting a few steps between them as he turned away shyly. "Just tell me when you're all done."

If somebody had told her that she would be changing out of her bloodstained pj's and practically getting naked on the side of a remote road in the early hours of the morning, she would've laughed at them and gone on her merry way to buy tampons in preparation for next week when Aunty Flow arrived with an achy fury.

"Does that bag have any shoes in there?" she questioned once she was dressed and tapped him on the shoulder, signalling him to turn around.

"Uh, no. I guess not." They both diverted their gaze to her dirty fluffy socks and realised they'd be less than adequate when trekking through a patch of thorny forest and mud. "I could give you a piggyback?"

"You really jump at any opportunity you're given to carry me, huh?" she teased playfully. "I'll take it, thank you."

So, with Y/N on his back like Yoda on Luke, the pair delved deeper into the forest and followed the inconsistent Google maps directions until they finally reached the safe house. They made it to the front door to find it open and a police officer already standing outside, inspecting the scene.

"Is everything alright?" the man inquired, looking up at Adrian from underneath his brows.

Vigilante let Y/N's feet drop to the floor and pointed his gun at the officer. Why was he here? Why was he the only one here? This was supposed to be a top secret location, so why somebody here? Economos was the only other person who knew. Was this officer at the wrong place at the wrong time? Or had they been compromised? Shit, they'd been compromised. How else would the butterflies have known on what road their car was on?

The cop was dead before he reached for his gun. Adrian pulled the trigger, and he heard the satisfying click as it hit its mark, killing the butterfly instantly. The sound seemed to echo in the forest for a brief moment before stopping, leaving nothing behind but the dead body of the officer - which wasn't a great look, but hey, the pig had an alien in his head - lying lifeless on the ground.

Kicking the body out the way, he pulled her through the threshold. "We don't have much time. There should be a landline in here, I'll call. You find the first aid kit," he ordered. Y/N nodded and ran off towards the bathroom as she assumed that was where it would be while Adrian found the landline to make the call.

"Economos? Hello... hello! Are you there? Hello?!" Adrian squawked into the receiver, panicking when the call wasn't picked up. "Come on, dye beard! Come on, man, pick up the fucking phone!"

"I thought I told you guys to stop calling me that," John complained on the other line. "What's taken you guys so long?"

"We were hit off the road and our cabin had a butterfly waiting outside it."

John swore under his breath and could be heard calling for Harcourt to figure out what to do next but she wasn't there. She was at Annabelle's safe house - which actually was safe and there hadn't been any problems on their end at all - and would have to be called to get her opinion.

Peacemaker, who'd been asleep because he fully believed his family had been safe when he lay down on the couch, was startled awake at the sudden yelling and rushed to his feet to investigate the commotion. "What's going on?" he asked, rubbing at his eye with the back of his hand.

"Dude, Economos's safe house wasn't fucking safe at all!" Vigilante whined to his best buddy.

"Is my sister okay?"

"She's got some minor cuts and scrapes, but she's fine," Vigilante assured him before glancing over to see that Y/N had come out of the bathroom with a bright red suitcase that had a cross stitched in the corner in her hand. "We've got a bandages and stuff but our main problem right now is that the butterflies know where we are, so we need to get the fuck out of here. Any ideas, gang?"

Adebayo spoke up, "What about your car?"

"Totalled."

Some rustling outside caught their attention and Adrian was handing the receiver over to Y/N so he could go to check that out, taking his sword from his sheath as he walked. "Hi, Vigilante has gone to - I don't know - do something incredibly reckless, so hi, it's me talking to you now," Y/N greeted the others on the other line, nervously shifting her weight from foot to foot whilst keeping one eye on the window as she listened carefully.

"Yeah, he does that often," a male voice said. She knew it wasn't her brother's cause she knew what he and Adebayo sounded like thanks to their previous call, so this must be the one Vigilante named Economos. "You two have limited options, okay? We can't ask for backup or any additional means of transportation, but there should be a wad of cash in the jewellery box in the bedroom."

Y/N went to find that immediately and opened the top drawer of the jewellery box, finding the money neatly tucked inside it. It was only at that point she noticed that this safe house only had one bedroom - which kinda made sense as it's supposed to be small and inconspicuous - but she was a little conflicted about the fact she wouldn't get a 'there's only one bed, we'll have to share' romance cliche was the masked idiot.

"Okay, got it. What now?"

"There's a gas station about four miles down the road. Gather what you need. Pay in cash. Steal a car if it's possible. If it's not, there's a junkyard another two miles east of there that will probably have a working rust bucket or -"

Two shots rang out and thudded into the front door, interrupting Economos and causing Y/N to flinch involuntarily. Five seconds after that the phone line cut off and Vigilante was running in, yelling, "We've got to go now!" He grabbed her hand and began yanking her away from the cabin.

One more body was sprawled by the door - though this one had obviously been decapitated rather than shot that time - and another would hit the deck as the pair went to go around the side of the cabin and come across another butterfly. Once again, Vigilante was quick to draw his gun and shot at it, shooting the damn thing dead and sending it tumbling into the bushes nearby while Y/N watched, dumbfounded.

"You're really good at this!" she exclaimed when the last of the visible bugs were killed. He shrugged (his brain was going fucking wild and he was trying not to show it) and held his free hand out to help her step over part of a fallen tree.

It took them the rest of the morning to find the petrol station and, despite the fact he kept offering, Y/N declined when he offered to carry her. They had a lot of walking to do. It would slow him down, and therefore them down, if she was lazy and continued to be carried around like some damsel in distress - which, yeah, she technically was. She would have to deal with soggy socks that had so many rips and holes in them that she may as well have taken them off to venture into the forest barefoot.

As soon as they reached the gas station, they were both beelining for the bathroom, but since he hadn't surveyed the place yet, when Y/N went to close the door behind her, Adrian was barging his way in. "Hey!" she said far too loudly, so Vigilante pushed her further into the loo with his hand over her mouth.

"Quiet!" he whispered harshly. "There are other people here that can hear you."

"I'm not the one being suspicious! You just shoved a woman into a bathroom dressed in hockey pads and a ski mask, dumbass!" she hissed, yanking his wrist away from her face so she could speak properly.

His eyes widened comically for a second. "Yeah, it would probably make it harder for the butterflies to spot us if I wasn't in uniform," he mumbled sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck as he looked up at the ceiling. There was another set of clothes in the bag that he could use. "I'll clean your wounds and then I'll get changed, sound good?"

She made a face. What he said did sound good, but Y/N had some other things to take care of first. "I came in here because I need to pee."

"Okay, then pee." He turned away as he started to unzip the bag to pretend he was really thinking through his clothes choice - there was only one set of joggers and a black shirt, exactly the same as she'd gotten - and not watch her as she peed. He laughed to himself, "Go piss, girl."

Sat on the loo, Y/N reached out to swipe her hand under the automatic drier so the room wouldn't be filled with the sound of her pissing. Hey, everyone's gotta do it, but it's still awkward if that's the only sound bouncing off a gas station bathroom when you're stuck in there with a guy you met earlier that night. It wasn't her fault that his male anatomy meant that he was more than happy to take a break whilst they were in the woods to piss against a tree.

If she knew that hiking was on her agenda that night, she may have invested in a She-Wee.

"I'm, uh, I'm done," she squeaked once her bladder was dealt with. Her face scrunched slightly, but the embarrassment faded when she looked up to see the back of his head. The actual back of his head, showing off the hair that he'd been meaning to get cut because it was getting long enough that it was starting to curl again, and then he turned around slowly and she felt her heart rate spike.

They were staring straight into each other's eyes without any red pane in the way, neither backing down nor looking away, and Y/N couldn't help the smile that spread onto her lips as his lips parted and let out an involuntary breathy laugh.

"Um, hey."

"Hi." His voice seemed to crack, just a bit, and he cleared his throat before he tried again. "Hello."

"Hi," Y/N repeated quietly.

She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and for a second she wondered if maybe she was dreaming - a really weird and violent dream - because this guy was so fucking cute. And hot. Like, super hot. Not just hot, but dorky hot too, with his adorable messy hair, and big, green eyes, the kind of jawline that could cut glass, and those lips.

"What's your name?"

"Adrian."

"Nice to finally meet you, Adrian."

In an instant, his face lit up as he heard his name come out of her mouth and he grinned from ear to ear, looking so relieved that his shoulders dropped down a bit, and the tenseness he'd been feeling about her seeing his face had been building up dissipated.

"I should, uh, y'know, start on your..." He trailed off but gestured to her wounds so she knew what he was trying to say.

"I think the ones on my arms are okay. There's a few on - on my - on my thighs that are, yeah, they're painful," she started, biting her lip before smiling softly, almost shyly.

"Can I see them?" She nodded but stayed perfectly still. "You'll have to... and I don't want you to get the wrong idea here; you're really pretty and, yes, if we were in a totally normal situation and I told you to take your sweatpants off, it would definitely be because I want to eat your pussy, but we're not in a sexy situation so it's for a complete different reason... and that reason is that you'll have to pull your sweatpants down so I can give you medical aid."

Without his mask on, Adrian lost whatever filter he may have had as he stared at her, his eyes wide, his breathing shallow, and it was obvious he couldn't believe that he was saying the words that were coming out of his mouth. He didn't want to offend her - god knows he doesn't want to offend anyone really - but the way she was looking at him like he was some kind of prince that had saved her from distress really made him nervous. He wasn't a prince, he knew that. He was a trigger happy imbecile with no immediate family and no prospects in life.

"Is... is that... is that okay?"

"Yeah, that's okay."

Y/N pulled down her sweatpants slowly, her face growing warmer with every inch of exposed skin exposed to the light, and as she sat herself down on the toilet lid, she braced herself for the moment the hot superhero dude put his hands all over her. He knelt between her knees and ran his fingers gently across the worst injuries first, his face screwing up in concentration. He paused momentarily to look at her thighs before moving on, making sure that her cuts hadn't got infected during their journey out here. Luckily, they hadn't.

Adrian was so gentle with her. It took her all her will not to cry because, fuck, it hurt like hell when he pressed a little too hard or moved a certain way, but she couldn't help it as tears pricked at her eyes, blurring her vision as he worked. When it became apparent to him that she was crying silently, he stopped altogether.

"Hey... hey, I know it feels so bad but you're fucking killing it. You're doing so good." He brushed the back of his hand along her cheek to wipe away some stray tears, leaning towards her and brushing a strand of hair out of her face that had fallen forward to cover one eye. "Just a few more for me, yeah? It'll be over so soon now."

Sniffing, Y/N nodded, hastily wiped at her eye and dealt with it. It was difficult not to squirm underneath his touch, but she managed it. When he was satisfied and gave her a thumbs up that everything was bandaged and cared for, Y/N thanked Adrian by giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek, which earned her an even bigger grin.

Then, it was her turn to look away as he got changed and she resisted the temptation to take a quick glance. That would be rude. He didn't take a peek when she got changed... Did he? She spent her time transferring the first aid kit into the gym bag so they wouldn't have to 1) have two bags, and 2) answer unnecessary questions about why they were carrying a bulletproof suitcase filled with bandages.

Obviously, it's not immediately suspicious to carry around a first aid kit, but it comes with the assumption that they had medical knowledge - neither of them had did - and that ensured that people could ask them questions that they'd have no idea how to answer.

They managed to leave the bathroom at the exact right time to see a drunk driver barrel into the gas station, park up and leave the ignition on as he went inside to buy a four pack of beer, slamming the door shut and giving them a perfect opportunity to steal his pick up.

"We're actually doing a good thing," Adrian reasoned as he drove away. "That asshole was drunk as a fucking skunk and it's, what, 8 am. He could've got in a serious accident and killed an innocent family of Mexicans on their school run."

"Is the fact that they're Mexican relevant in any way?"

"No, I don't know why I added that detail," he shrugged.

He kept checking the rear view mirror every now and again to make sure they weren't being followed as they got back on the road and headed towards the nearest populated area, where they could hopefully find a cheap motel to rent a night or two.

"Do you wanna switch? You've been awake all night. I can drive if you want a rest," Y/N offered, knowing full well how tired he must be after a long, strenuous night of car crashes, gun fights, fireman carrying her, and hiking through nature. Y/N had only done two of those and was feeling the exhaustion.

"Nah. I'm good." He flashed her another bright smile and patted her leg in reassurance. "Thank you, though."

Eventually, they came across a grimy and Bates Motel looking place and, although Y/N wanted nothing more than to sleep, she decided it was best that they check if there's a peephole in the shower. They'd find out that there wasn't one, thankfully.

It was just as dingy inside as it had been outside with its faded yellow paintwork, stained carpet and cheap looking furniture that were probably older than their entire lives combined. The whole motel had a creepy vibe but it was cheap and the receptionist didn't bat an eye when they didn't sign the motel ledger when they checked in. It seemed that they had to swap out comfort for their anonymity.

"One bed," he pointed out as they opened the door and stepped inside.

Ah, her 'there's only one bed, we'll have to share' romance cliche was back in full swing! Y/N smiled, shook her head, and placed a do not disturb sign on the handle before heading in behind him and setting the bag down next to the mini fridge. They stood idly at the foot of the bed for a while, not exactly sure where to go from there. They'd managed to survive long enough to earn a rest and, now it had arrived, neither of them knew what to do with themselves.

"Do you want to use the shower first?" Y/N suggested after about three minutes of silence.

"Sure."

"Shall I order takeout? I saw some menus downstairs that I could grab to see if they do lunch deliveries. Or something."

"On your own?"

It wasn't supposed to sound so patronising but it did, which made him cringe. He meant it as a 'remember aliens that look like ordinary people are after you so going out in public probably isn't the best' but his tone was far too condescending. He looked away, ashamed, and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Shit, he didn't mean to sound that shitty.

"Fine! I'll sit down and - I dunno - read the fucking bible while you show off how competent you are! Wow, Adrian, do you want me to put in a good word for you with my brother? Maybe then he'll actually like you over his weird ass bird!" She stormed towards him and grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him towards her until they were eye to eye, staring each other straight in the eye. "Don't treat me like I'm a fucking child."

The look in her eyes was terrifying - he could tell exactly who her father was at that moment - and he couldn't help but feel intimidated. Adrian had a gun in the back of his trousers and she was completely unarmed, why did he feel so threatened? She was smaller, weaker, more defenceless than he was, and yet there she stood, staring him dead in the eye without blinking, with a look in her eyes that told him he better apologise.

But, he didn't. Words wouldn't form. His brain was running wild and somehow devoid of any coherent thoughts, his tongue felt heavy in his mouth, then his focus flitted down to her lips, just for a moment, and then back up again.

"Look, do whatever you want. Shower/don't shower, I don't give a shit. I'm hungry so I'm going to find some way to acquire food and if I get murdered by a bunch of bugs, well, at least you don't have to play babysitter anymore," she said before turning on her heel and attempting to storm out. She didn't get far however; Adrian reached out and grabbed her arm to pull her against him roughly, grabbing hold of her waist, holding her firmly against his body.

For a split second, she froze up, surprised by his sudden display of strength, then attacked him with a kiss that sent both of them tumbling backwards onto the wall. Adrian's back hit an awful picture of Elvis onto the floor as he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, lifted her, and pinned her to the exact spot where Mr Presley had been hanging.

"You're so annoying," she snarled as his mouth moved along her neck and sucked on a particularly sensitive part of skin, causing her to gasp sharply and arch her back. Her hand automatically curled up against the back of his head, gripping onto his hair.

"You're a spoiled brat," he countered with a growl as he threw his glasses off and dragged his nose down her collarbone until it was firmly in her cleavage, inhaling deeply as he let a soft sigh escape him. It was intoxicating; she had gotten under his skin, taken control of his heart and made it pound erratically in his chest. If she asked, he would do anything she asked of him without hesitation. Anything.

It took a lot out of him to fight the desire, to keep his emotions in check because he knew it wasn't going to go down well with his BFF, but Adrian couldn't help himself. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in the warmth of her body. All he wanted was for the both of them to forget everything else, for them to live in this moment forever, with her clinging on to him desperately like her life depended on it and his hands travelling everywhere they wanted to.

There was no time for restraint anymore. There was only lust. A primal urge to taste and touch her, taste her and touch her in ways that left her breathless, touched her like it was forbidden, like it would destroy his sanity if it wasn't allowed to.

In 3 big steps, he carried her to the bed and laid her down. Their lips reconnected, their tongues tangling together hungrily, desperate sounds escaping as Y/N yanked Adrian down on top of her and pulled at his clothes to get rid of them as fast as possible. She mumbled, "Take everything off," into his mouth and he did just that.

Adrian stripped down to his boxers as quickly as he could, then did the same for her - although his touch was a lot less frantic and heavy-handed so he didn't press down into her injuries - and just stared at her chest, drinking in the sight of her naked body underneath him.

His attention was so consuming that it caught her off guard. The intensity of his stare was overwhelming and she had no idea how to react to such intense scrutiny. "Stop acting like such a virgin," she complained (half-heartedly) as she propped herself up on her elbows. Despite her words, he could tell she was enjoying his gaze immensely.

"Geez, you really need me that bad, huh? We only met yesterday and you're already so impatient," Adrian teased against the shell of her ear. He nibbled on her ear lobe gently before moving his lips behind her ear directly on her mastoid bone and perching his butt down on her thighs. She rolled her eyes, her cheeks burning, and she averted her gaze bashfully.

And when he added a cocky, "Either you really like me or you're desperate. Maybe it's both," she was tempted to smack the grin off his face, but she refrained from doing so because it was hot. So damn hot. Y/N bit down on her lip to stop herself from insulting him further.

Any and all of her sharp tonguedness vanished as the tips of fingers mapped the contours of her chest, caressing and teasing and leaving goosebumps wherever they went. "What's got you all quiet? Don't tell me you've turned shy, Y/N."

"You're so hot, oh my god," she breathed, saying exactly what was on her mind.

All of his life, Adrian never considered himself to be hot. He'd been a butt baby for most of his existence and had only noticed an increase of romantic interest in him in the past couple of years. Thanks to Vigilante, he knew he was more muscular and well built than he had been but he was still the same big ol' nerd who'd spent his formative years getting picked on and berated for being weak and small and lacking confidence.

One of the hottest people he'd ever seen considered him to be hot? Well, that surely meant that he was hot. It was a fact. And did he need an ego boost l? To those who didn't really know him, absolutely not. To anyone that made the decision to see past the bumbling asshole facade, they knew he needed it desperately.

"Why don't you show me how much you like me? Huh, babe?"

Peacemaker wouldn't be happy that Vigilante banged his sister but, hey, Peacemaker wasn't there. And he certainly didn't need to know that halfway through, the hotel cleaner clearly missed the do not disturb sign and walked right in to find a guy she didn't know with a girl she didn't know on his lap. Judging by her face and the monotone way she said, "I'll come back later," she'd definitely been through that situation so many times before.

They let out a bunch of giggles as the door shut behind the maid, both laughing away the awkward tension of the unexpected voyeuristic incident. Y/N let her sweaty forehead fall to his temple and let out a snort that sent them tumbling into another batch of giggles. It took a few minutes of catching their breaths until Adrian spoke up, his voice laced with amusement.

"I like your laugh. It's very cute."

"Shut up," she retorted a little shyly and hid her coy smile by kissing him. It wasn't an effective concealment, though, because Adrian could feel the way her mouth was upturned against his.

"You wanna start moving again, baby, or do you want me to take over? Cause I think you should cum again," Adrian taunted, gripping onto hips to begin rocking them both back and forth gently.

There wasn't any other interruption this time. They enjoyed each other slowly, unhurriedly, languidly, and it was wonderful to let themselves be held and worshipped and savoured like that, without any expectations or restrictions. And once they were done and satisfied, they simply lay there together.

Y/N glanced to the side, her breath starting to calm, and asked, "Are you a hugger?"

"Not usually." He mimicked her and turned his head to make eye contact. "Are you?"

"Sometimes."

He gripped onto her biceps and tugged her into a hug. She responded instantly, wrapping her arms tightly around him as her cheek pressed itself flush against his shoulder.

"Sorry that I was mean earlier. The stress finally got to me, I guess," Y/N apologised, her words coming out a little muffled because her face was squished against his skin.

"Don't worry about it," Adrian said. "It was super hot."

Another batch of giggles ensued and then, at some point, they just stopped and fell into a daze. It wasn't quite a nap but they weren't fully aware either. They were just quietly existing in the space that they'd created for themselves, content and comfortable.

Sure, actually getting some sleep would've been better. Or showering. Or finding something to eat. But they'd been moving and thinking and planning every single single moment for the past 15 hours and needed a moment to just be.

That was until Adrian's phone buzzed. It was at 7% and they were surprised it was still going strong. "Can you read this for me? I don't know where my glasses are," Adrian requested, handing Y/N his phone which had been resting on the nightstand beside him. He scooted slightly closer and watched as she took over reading it, a frown settling deep between her brows as she read the words aloud.

Unknown: HQ compromised. Stay on the road until further notice. JE will contact you with updates when we have them.

- LA

It took Adrian a while to remember who the initials related to - to make it easy, couldn't Leota have just said her and Economos' names? - and he could see Y/N working out what her life was going to be like for the next however long. She had a job, friends, and obligations she'd made time for that were being pushed to the side because of her brother that she'd never met before. She had no idea what was waiting ahead of her.

Hell, Y/N had no clue if Chris was still alive. What about her mother? How long would it be until they were reunited? Adrian could see the gears turning in her head as she tried to figure out all of the possible outcomes and he wished he could give her something to ease her pain. Even briefly.

"Hey, looks like you'll have to find a way to deal with me for a bit longer," he announced, looking at her mischievously as he started stroking his hand along her bare hip in slow circles.

"Oh no, how will I ever do that?" she replied sarcastically and gave him a fake frown.

"Looks like I'm just gonna have to find a way to keep you entertained," he continued, leaning down and brushing his lips against hers tenderly. Her eyes fluttered closed and she leaned into his touch, allowing him to deepen the kiss and deepen it even further until it became feverish and passionate yet sweet and caring all at once.

From that point, they were inseparable - partly for survival, partly for their need to constantly be touching each other - and spent the next couple of months bouncing from state to state, city to city, gas station to gas station.

Their first move was to get as much possible of their bank account in physical cash so they took the maximum allowed from ATM's whenever they could. Obviously they were leaving a trail of where they'd been but the wad Economos had left in the safe house wasn't enough to sustain them.

They'd used half of it to buy a banged up minivan that someone had turned into a camper, but they still needed food and clothes and fuel and a charging cable for Adrian's phone.

Neither of them had been particularly well off before this - Y/N was still living with her mother, who at the time of her kidnap had been away on a job interview in the neighbouring state, and Adrian was a busboy that spent a lot of money on weapons - so that money was running out too.

Life in the camper wasn't so bad. It was cramped and tiny, sure, but it was warm and comfy, and it was far easier to flee from suspected butterflies in a house on wheels than have to decide whether to leave all their stuff in some random hotel or take the risk to attempt to retrieve it.

Still, when another update came in, they were more than ready to read it and get back to 'normal' life.

"Darling, your phone just went off," Y/N called out from inside their van, heating up their food from the night before on a tabletop skillet. Adrian was by the creek they'd parked next to, washing blood and dirt from their clothes after their most recent run in with the butterflies, and the moment he heard her, he let a pair of his underwear accidentally drift downstream as he walked away.

On his way to read it, he mumbled, "Smells good, babe. I'm so hungry," and pressed a kiss to her forehead as he passed Y/N, who smiled up at him in a way that made him feel like the most loved man in the world, and was a little confused at first before he realised Economos had sent him coordinates.

He was pushing his hand in her field of vision as soon as he googled where the location was, interrupting her as she was about to give their noodles a mix. Y/N made a surprised face and grabbed the phone to make sure she was reading the screen correctly. "Evergreen? Do you think that means that this is all over?" she asked, a hint of excitement and nervousness in her voice.

Adrian smiled and wrapped his arms around her from behind, his nose poking into her cheek as he confirmed, "I think it means we should start the long drive home."

Y/N smiled and leaned her head back against his chest as she took a deep breath. "Let's eat then get moving," she concluded, laughing when he attacked her cheek with so many excited kisses.

They ate, they got ready, and then they drove. It took them a few days to get back to Washington and Economos' coordinates led them straight to Adrian's house. It seemed that Chris, Leota and Keeya, John, and Emilia had been using his home - without permission but he honestly didn't care - as a base for the past month or so because they'd run out of weapons and thought, 'Where would there be a bunch of unattended weapons that they could use without repercussions for stealing' and Chris remembered the time his buddy showed him his gun collection.

Harcourt and Annabelle had a relatively easy time. Their safe house hadn't been discovered at all in the mess and they only found out something was wrong when John called Emilia for advice about what to do. With the assurance that Annabelle would be fine on her own, Emilia joined her squad to come up with a plan that would wipe out the rest of the butterflies.

And then they managed to find out about a meeting of all of the remaining butterflies and planted a bomb. Completely wiping out an entire race didn't feel great, but they'd been a thorn in the 11th Street Kids side for long enough that that feeling was replaced by a sigh of relief. A 'thank fuck that's over' kind of deal.

Before Y/N had even gotten out of the car, her mother was running out of the Chase home. Annabelle pulled open the passenger's side door and yanked Y/N into a hug. "I'm so glad you're okay, sweetpea! You are okay, aren't you?" she gushed, tears in her eyes as she examined Y/N's face.

"I'm okay, mama," Y/N said, laughing a little. "I've been so worried about you."

"I know, and I've been worried about you too. I whooped your brother and his friend's asses for taking so long to deal with those bug things!"

Peacemaker emerged from the house and Vigilante yelled out a very excited, "Peace! How are you, man?"

"Surprised that a dumbass like you survived!" Peacemaker responded, grinning from ear to ear as he looked at Vigilante. It was obviously still Adrian, but he'd grown his hair out a bit, had a five o'clock shadow, and looked the exact amount of tired you'd assume someone would be if they'd spent months sleeping in their car. "You look like shit, dude."

"Chris!" Both women complained. Annabelle reprimanded, "That is not a very nice thing to say to someone!" while Y/N chose to go with, "I think you look very handsome, babe!"

Then, both mother and son turned to face Y/N and exclaimed, "Babe?!" in shock. Chris was horrified. Annabelle, the opposite - she didn't know the guy but he was her good books for protecting Y/N as well as he had. This hadn't gone exactly the way Y/N thought it would. Honestly, she hadn't really planned anything about how she was going to casually bring up the fact that she'd started a relationship with Adrian, but it definitely wasn't going to be like this.

"Hi," Adrian said, awkwardly, as his BFF and his girlfriend's mother stared at him like he was an alien life form. "Uh... hello."

"Dude! Did I say you could date my sister?"

"No! But you didn't say I couldn't! There were no rules like that!" Adrian turned to Y/N so she'd know that he hadn't accidentally duped her into a 'forbidden' relationship and he repeated, "There were no rules!"

Closing the gap, Y/N comforted her boyfriend with a side hug, a soft "Yeah, I know," and a gentle pat on the chest. "Why don't you show me inside your home, Ade? We've been in the van for so long, I think I'd like to have one night in a normal bed." She then playfully added, "You've got that, don't you?"

Adrian grinned. "Yeah, I've got that."

The pair walked inside to find that his living room had been turned into a technology den of screens and drones and weapons - although those had been there before - and Adrian almost didn't recognise his childhood home. And he definitely didn't recognise the dogs that were running all over the place.

"You have chihuahuas?" Y/N asked, in some surprise.

"No, I'm more of a cat person."

"They're mine!" Adebayo announced as she came in from the kitchen, another dog under her arm. "Sorry! Sorry, I thought Keeya would've picked them up by now. We were all staying here together, me and my wife, John, Chris and Emilia, and -"

"You guys had a sleepover at my house without me being here? That's SO not cool!" Adrian whined.

1) His only friends hung out without him. That sucks. And 2) They did their group slumber party in the very place he owned and lived. That majorly sucks.

"You were literally on the run!" Economos retorted. "And we often thought you were dead!"

"So you decided to steal my house from me?!"

Harcourt gave Vigilante one look, just one, and he stopped whatever he was about to say next. Y/N saw how terrified he was of his boss and part of her was prepared to stand up for her man (despite the fact he was slightly overreacting), but yeah, Y/N had to admit that Harcourt was a little scary and she had mad respect for that.

Everything else that night was smooth sailing. As a big group, they let Annabelle make her signature baked Sausage and cheese rigatoni, and every member of the team ate until they were stuffed and only had enough movement in them to make it to the couch, where they crowded around the TV to watch a bad movie.

There weren't enough seats. Keeya sat on Leota. Y/N on Adrian. Annabelle and Economos a safe distance away from each other on the couch. Chris was sitting on a lazy boy off to the right with Emilia on the floor between his legs. And Peacemaker thought he was being so subtle and slick about playing with the ends of Harcourt's hair, running his fingers through the strands before glancing around every now and then to see if anyone had noticed.

As the movie played on, Y/N dozed off with her temple against Adrian's. She only began to stir when she felt the sensation of being lifted from the couch, and her eyes slowly opened to see that Adrian was making his way up the stairs.

"Are you carrying me to bed?"

"Uh-huh, like my pop used to do for me."

"You're so cute," she slurred, her voice so groggy she wondered how coherent it was to his ears. "You're so cute and so strong."

"Anything else about me that you like?" He urged, hoping that she'd reveal everything because of how sleepy she was.

"I like your smile. It's big."

"Yeah, anything else?"

"I like how you go out of your way to make me laugh."

"I do love your laugh."

"Yeah, well, I love you."

He froze mid-step, an overwhelming giddiness sweeping over him. He'd never expected to even be in this position. He had a girlfriend. And she just professed her love for him! This was better than winning the lottery. Better than finding a huge mob of criminals to shoot in the dick! He loved her too. He was so happy!

"I'll say it back when you're fully awake tomorrow," he whispered before letting Y/N slip onto the bed. She was tugging him down with her, trying to force his body on top of hers.

"Say it," she insisted, pouting like she did whenever she wanted him to give in to her. "Darling, I'd love to hear you say it. Pretty please. Don't tease - " She yawned again. "Don't tease me with this, baby."

"I love you," he said, rolling over and pinning her under him. Adrian grinned down at her, unable to stop the glee from pouring through every pore in his body.

Her forefinger came up to trace his mouth. "Big smile," Y/N yawned out, before moving to get under the covers. "Big bed too."

Adrian laughed as he stretched out beside her, propping himself up on one elbow to watch her as she fell back to sleep. "How'd I get so lucky, huh?" he mumbled to himself.

"When did you get so sappy, asshole?" Chris suddenly said from the bedroom door.

"Shh....she's sleeping."

"Oh my god, you're totally pussy whipped!"

"What are you even doing up here? You saw me coming up here?"

"Economos stunk up the first floor bathroom so I came up here to, y'know, not smell his shit."

"Jesus Christ."

In her sleep, Y/N shifted closer to Adrian, pressing against his chest. He stroked her hair, feeling her strands between his fingers, and he continued to watch her, his eyes tracing every line and curve of her face.

"This is so fucking gross to see," Chris muttered.

"Leave then!" At his raised voice, Y/N stirred. "Sorry. It's okay. It's okay, just go back to sleep," he said, stroking her hair some more.

Vigilante just asked Peacemaker to leave? In what crazy world had they jumped to? Before all this, Vig would do whatever he could to be around Peace for as long as he could. Now? Adrian's idolisation had dampened a little. He'd come to realise that there were other people out there, other people who were willing to be nice and kind and apologise to him, and that he didn't have to put up with all the insults Chris threw his way.

That wasn't a way to have any relationship, friendship or something more, and having Y/N in his life had given him a sense of 'yeah, I'm better than that' that he wasn't going to drop just because his BFF was back in the picture. Plus, he always had the 'I'm banging your sister' card in his back pocket to use whenever Chris got too vulgar.

"You two are really serious then?" Chris asked, his voice a little quieter so he didn't wake his sibling.

"I'd buy a ring if I had the money."

Chris' eyes widened. "You serious?"

"Yeah."

"Ew, I don't want you as my brother in law."

Coming up behind him, Annabelle placed a hand on her son's shoulder. "Hey pumpkin, let your sister sleep in peace, yeah?" She cooed and guided Chris away from the doorway.

Despite his muscles and big stature, Chris seemed to shrink back into a little kid when his mother interacted with him. It always amazed Adrian how much of a pushover he could be. In a small voice, Chris said, "Okay, mama. I will," and went back downstairs without arguing.

"Goodnight, Adrian. Watch over her for me?"

"Always will, Mrs L/N."

"I know you will."

Annabelle left the couple to snooze in peace. And they snoozed for longer than they had done in ages. There was no danger. No need to get up quick and flee. No knocking on the van windows to say 'you can't park here'. Nothing but peace and quiet and the quiet sounds of a house full of sleeping friends and family.

#adrian chase #vigilante #vigilante x reader #adrian chase x female reader #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase x y/n #peacemaker

[lulu2992]

(This is a reply to this reblog because the post would have been way too long otherwise)

You’re right, @purplehairsecretlair; it would make so much more sense if the priest featured in the video was not Jerome! I was ready to accept this headcanon, but then I found the official description of the trailer:

This is about Joseph Seed's journey before he became the Father, before Pastor Jerome was forced to forfeit his status as shepherd of the County's souls.

So The Baptism is about Joseph “stealing” Jerome’s congregation… That said, I totally agree that this isn’t consistent with the game for several reasons (which you probably already know, but I want to use this opportunity to talk more about the trailer).

First, Joseph found John and Jacob before he started the Project, and they all arrived in Hope County together. In the trailer, however, as you pointed out, he’s alone. We see him creating Eden’s Gate, writing his own holy book, and recruiting his first followers. Also, this shot...

...looks like what the 2nd step of the Pilgrimage tells us in the game:

II. The Cleansing: Joseph Seed affirms his obedience to the Voice by cleansing himself with his own two hands, becoming born again.

Steps III and IV are about him getting his first followers and the Voice telling him about the Collapse, and he only “collects his blood family” at step V, which... I realize is not consistent with The Book of Joseph, unless that means he had already found his brothers and only “[anointed] them as his Heralds” at this point.

Regardless, the story told along the Pilgrimage path isn’t consistent with The Baptism either because he only brings his disciples to Hope County at step VII, but he’s clearly already there in the video. Plus, his Heralds don’t seem to be with him…

I tried looking for more information about the trailer, especially about the cast and characters but, aside from Greg Bryk, I couldn’t find the names of the other actors.

However, I found this. The website says the video has won 25 (in my opinion, well-deserved) awards and provides a synopsis, probably written by DDB Paris, the agency that created the two live-action trailers, The Baptism and The Sermon, for Ubisoft. It says that the little girl is “the daughter of the legitimate priest whose place [Joseph] took, ten years ago”. Far Cry 5 never implies Jerome ever had a child, so I don’t think that’s still canon, but I’m glad we finally know who she is!

I stumbled upon this other article (with a behind-the-scenes picture). It’s in French, so here’s a summary:

It was Ubisoft who “imposed” Greg Byrk on the agency, but the artistic director thought he was “perfect” even though they barely knew him. The copywriter comments he was “very immersed in his role” and “exuded something powerful”.

The video was shot in Canada, in Merritt BC. To help the team, Ubisoft sent them the “huge mood board” they made during their one-year trip to Montana.

Some shots were unscripted, such as the scene with the little girl on the swing.

About 150 people were involved in the project which also required dozens of supply trucks.

Finally, it says the trailer was released 14 months after the first briefing. Jerome and Joseph’s backstories had plenty of time to be rewritten...

I also remember reading this interview with the director on the now-offline UbiBlog years ago. So, in case anyone was wondering (I was), that string of saliva was, in fact, totally unplanned :’)

#(anyway yeah you’re right it would have worked better with the rest of the story if the priest was someone else) #far cry 5 #joseph seed #jerome jeffries #and his unnamed scrapped daughter #I see the sermon has won 10 awards #but the credits suggest there used to be VFX and a nuke in it?? #I want to see that! #gifs I made #‘'blood sweat and tears'? how about 'snot spit and tears' instead?’ - greg bryk I guess

[bloompompom]

Trending Now! Beloved, international pop sensation was spotted getting hot and heavy with the lead vocalist of Devil's Paradise, Eren Jaeger, at an after-party, sparking rumors of a secret fling. The unlikely couple has yet to comment publicly on the status of their relationship, but their scandal-worthy PDA alone implies they must know each other very well. 

Ha! That couldn’t be any further from the truth.

♡ pairings: rockstar!eren jaeger x popstar!female reader, eren jaeger x historia reiss ♡ content: ~8k word count. enemies-to-lovers, explicit language, alcohol, tobacco, pet names, reader discretion advised. ♡ previous chapter | next chapter | series masterlist

★ Chapter Two ★

It turns out that a fake relationship calls for just as much work as a real one.

Your life had been consumed by music for as long as you could remember—even longer than that, actually.

Your father was big in the music industry. You were talking big, big. Icon status. His band toured and filled stadiums across the country, ten times over, well before you were born. And once you were, he brought you along for the ride. He’d show you off on stage before your little eyes could even fathom what a crowd was, announcing to the world that he had a good feeling about you—what a strange thing to say about a child. But he wanted you to be a star, just like him, so a star was what you became.

Yes, for all intents and purposes, you were a nepo baby. You were sure, to outsiders, it’d seem like you were complaining about nothing. Here you were in your penthouse apartment, fresh from the bath with soaps costing more than some people make in a week, wrapped in a robe costing more than some people make in a month, lounged on a sofa costing more than some people make in a year. What could you possibly complain about?

Besides the fact that you paid for it with your soul, selling every aspect of your life away. Apparently, even down to who you can and cannot drunkenly make out with at a party.

Speaking of that, your argument with your dad didn’t seem to fix anything. Neither did Pieck’s, though you’d bet she handled her’s more rationally. You were surprised she couldn’t win him over, considering he always valued her opinion more, but even she wasn’t capable of such a feat.

But just like that pep talk you gave yourself in the mirror, you believed it was worth it. 

You were never one to keep a diary, at least, not in the stereotypical sense. Your journals were filled with lyrics that served the same purpose. Every thought, even those that made your stomach sick and left your head in ruins, could be metamorphosed into something as beautiful as poetry. Really, it was poetry, kept on ruled and folded pages. Jotted down, crossed out, and rewritten over and over in messy, middle-of-the-night handwriting.

Those lyrics never met the radio or any streaming services. They were never even given the chance to meet a microphone. They were stuffed away in the depths of your closet. You didn’t have time to write anymore. You were too busy singing to backtracks, churning out song after song, written with no other purpose than to top the charts. 

You thought you’d age out of your dad’s grasp one day, but his reach was far greater than you had anticipated. You were his project—you know, since his first one failed. 

When your dad decided to release his first solo album, it was a flop. Not quite a fall-flat-on-your-face flop, but it was damn near close. He never outrightly named it to be the reason, but when he told you that passion projects were a waste of time, it wasn’t difficult to piece it together.

Your dad promised you the dream of stardom, and that was what you got. But whether it was his dream or yours was yet to be determined. If it were up to you, it would be just you, your poetry, and a guitar—if you could get the hang of it. 

But no, you were generic. 

Most of what you knew about Eren was what anyone could find from an online search because there was no way you would go and talk about yourselves over coffee. Member of Devil’s Paradise. Occupation: singer. Birthday: March 30th. He was two years older than you.

Then came the rabbit hole. A deep and descending spiral. You started with live performances, then stumbled upon some recent interviews. That was always how hate-watching began, wasn’t it? Your blood boiled as you watched Eren play it up for the cameras. Laughing at the right times, sprinkling in a charismatic smile here and there, even if you thought it made him look like a villain.

It seemed like he could get away with anything so long as he desired it. Write the songs he wanted, screw up his lyrics if he felt like it. Hell, he could have kicked his feet up on that conference table if he wanted to, you were sure of it. All the while, you couldn’t even defend yourself with Pieck stepping on your toes—literally. 

You couldn’t say it enough: Eren infuriated you, ceaselessly so. But somehow, buried deep within you, you could admit the band—that he was a force to be reckoned with. Not that you’d ever say that aloud, of course.

Eren’s presence was eye-catching. He knew how to use every last bit of the stage as if he owned it. But so did the rest of the band. Even Connie—stuck behind his drumset but far from hidden. The smirk on his face was everpresent as he attempted different tricks with his drumsticks, unexpectedly nailing every one of them. 

But what stood out to you the most was the energy between Mikasa and Eren. It was electric. Always in tune with one another. As you watched, you noticed a twinge of guilt when you thought about calling their band shitty—but only because of Mikasa! Either way, it didn’t matter; you planned to take the feeling to the grave.

Mikasa actually found you on Instagram a few days after that god-forsaken meeting. Word must have traveled fast. The two of you exchanged phone numbers because she insisted on calling you.

She answered the phone after only a ring. Before you could say a word, she was already apologizing for everything that happened that night, as if it were somehow her fault. She had no reason to feel responsible; you could make your own decision. You told her that, too.

“Honestly, it didn’t even cross my mind that you’d be interested in each other, but I should have known he’d try something,” Mikasa said.

You were quick to correct her. “We’re definitely not interested in each other. We were just drunk.”

“Right. Sorry.”

 Mikasa ended the call by telling you to look at the bright side—the two of you would see more of each other. You feigned excitement not because you didn’t like her but because you only heard the underlying implication. You would have to see more of Eren, too.

Your PR team was adamant about keeping up appearances, desperate to clear things up as if it were a blip on your permanent record. You and Eren were ordered to paint the pretty picture of having been in a happy and committed relationship for the last two months. Don’t forget: they had your image to protect. It was one they spent years crafting. 

You had them clutching at their pearls at the mere thought of you—gasp!—having drunken sexual relations with a man you had just met. 

To think, all of this hubbub, and for what? You didn’t even get laid.

According to them, two months meant you had to drive home the honeymooners, lucky-in-love thing. Googly eyes and all. Anything to snuff out the salacious rumors before executive Mustache died of an aneurysm.

Think of those pictures they plaster on the front of magazines. Those candid couples wearing their absolute best because they coincidentally were papped on their way to the gym. That was what your team of publicists expected of you—on Mondays, that is. Saturdays were for strolling together. To where? Anywhere, they’d say! Ugh. 

It was so very quaint, wasn’t it? As if your schedule wasn’t already crammed enough.

Since the after-party, the most time you spent with Eren was the first (and only) time you went to dinner together. Petra wanted to ensure the paparazzi caught ‘the shot,’ as she called it. Aka, a photograph of Eren feeding you a bite of food.

By the way, Petra was the nervous redhead who rambled at you during the meeting. She was one of Devil’s Paradise’s publicists—specifically, Eren’s. 

She turned out to be less flighty than you thought, at least when the higher-ups weren’t around. You would maybe even say you liked her for no other reason than she was the only one who treated you like a person. Enough that she’d throw in a ‘Hey, this is pretty weird, right?’ now and again. 

That didn’t stop her from dreaming up these ridiculous, borderline-fantastical ideas, like feeding each other goat cheese crostinis, dumbly giggling when Eren would miss your mouth and use his thumb to swipe your lips clean.

Spoiler alert: that never happened. And the paparazzi never snapped ‘the shot’ because you weren’t interested in having Eren feed you anything. Luckily for you, he shared the sentiment. 

What a challenge it was—pretending you had eyes for someone you couldn’t bear to spend an hour with. It was a big ask for both of you. You were singers, not actors. And what was supposed to be a romantic dinner probably appeared more like you were fighting, and not the kind that looked like a lovers’ quarrel. 

To be fair, there was a very small chance it was your fault this time. Just maybe you picked the wrong dinner conversation. But hey, he was the one who brought up his ex-girlfriend first.

Keeping your voice low, you asked him about Historia Reiss. Though the restaurant was dim and not exceptionally crowded, you were only out because you were supposed to be spotted together. The last thing you wanted was to become the jealous, obsessive girlfriend. You were just curious, that was all.

But Eren only said they broke up six months ago, another tidbit you could have found on Google.

“Someone’s down bad,” you poked lightly, even cracking a smile so people would think you were enjoying each other’s company. Pieck would be so proud.

When he didn’t humor it, you stifled the nasty face you wanted to make and asked, “Why’d she break up with you? Because you’re a dick?”

“Yeah, probably,” Eren deadpanned. He didn’t look up as he spoke but bitterly forked around his plate.

That was where the conversation ended. Any and all conversation, for that matter. Talk about awkward. You remembered texting Pieck under the table in a fury, telling her you would never do this again, even if it meant she’d have to lie about your whereabouts to your father.

After only two weeks, you had to tap out. No more cutesy coffee dates, no candlelit dinners, and you’d certainly be escorting yourself to the gym from now on. But Pieck could only cover you for so long before she had to call out your avoidant tendencies.

It felt like interrupting your days had become her new favorite pastime. Still in your robe, though you had left the bath over an hour ago, you lazed on the couch. Convinced everything was peachy, you thoughtlessly answered Pieck’s call with a chipper, “What’s up?”

No pleasantries were exchanged. The first words out of her mouth were, “Do you know how many days it’s been since you and Eren were last seen together?”

Her voice was far too accusing for such a pleasant day. It wasn’t even noon. She spoke so fast that you weren’t positive you heard her right. Why would you count such a silly thing?

You replied tentatively, “Um, no.”

“Twenty-seven.”

“You’re so weird for keeping track of that.”

“It’s literally my job,” she told you like she had many times before. 

Yes, Pieck’s official title was manager, but she was second-in-command. Or as you liked to call it, your babysitter. While the title of personal assistant felt demeaning to give to your best friend, you couldn’t help but think ‘manager’ had gone to her head.

She continued, “Your relationship can’t consist of leaving heart and flame emojis on each other’s photos.” Why not? “You’re taking him to Sasha’s party.”

You flung upright so fast that you were surprised you didn’t fly off the sofa. “Like hell I am!”

If you opened a dictionary and flipped the pages to the word ‘influencer,’ you’d bet there would be a picture of Sasha Braus. In every sense of the word, she was an influencer. She was bubbly, a bit outlandish, and like a magnet whenever she walked into a room. You wouldn’t say she invited you to her party because you were friends, more like she invited you because you were, well, you. 

She announced she was working on expanding her brand, starting with everyone’s favorite breakout product: eyeshadow palettes.

The launch party was on Saturday—two days away. You had known about it for some time now, but you conveniently kept it a secret that Sasha included a plus one to your invitation. You were actually looking forward to the event up until now. 

You spewed every reason as to why this was a horrible idea, rattling away like a bad defense attorney. ‘Eren won’t go’ and ‘Actually, I think I’m coming down with the flu.’ Then came the good old-fashioned begging. 

She let you wear yourself out before hitting you with, “It’s already been arranged. Sasha sent you a plus one, and I’ve spoken with Levi.” Damn it. “Oh, and Petra will be going with you to ensure you’re both on your best behavior. We don’t want a repeat of dinner.”

There was that line again. Best behavior.

You were about to end the call right there, but you decided to hear her out after she apologized. She tried to cheer you up, too, but it was a blatant attempt at reminding you not to shoot the messenger. So then you hung up on her. She’d surely scorn you for acting so childish later.

♡ ♡ ♡

“I don’t know why you’re being such a little bitch about it. Just look at her—she’s smokin’ hot.”

Connie had put one of your music videos on the flat screen during their break from practice. It must have been set to autoplay because that was ten minutes ago and you were still going. He appeared to be the only one watching, sprawled out on the couch with his hands tucked behind his head. He only tore his eyes from the screen to see what Eren had to say.

Eren leaned against the wall, paying more attention to his phone than Connie as he tried to drone out both him and your grating voice. “She’s the one that’s a b—”

“Don’t,” Mikasa interjected. Eren finally glanced up, and Mikasa caught the dreadful look in his eye. “Besides, you didn’t seem to think so when you met her.”

The bite in her tone caught Jean’s attention. He straightened out, sat a bit higher in his seat, and let a wry smile take hold of his face. “Yeah, you’re only saying that because she didn’t want to sleep with you. Let me guess, you said something—probably in your usual douchey fashion—and pissed her off.”

Eren’s eyes flitted from Mikasa to Jean. Only for a second, but with the silence, it was enough to pull a dry chuckle from Jean as he concluded, “Looks like I’m right.”

Connie rolled onto his stomach, eyes wide and interested. He might as well have been kicking his feet in the air like the little gossip he was. “Man, you had the perfect shot and fuckin’ blew it. I wouldn’t have, if it were me. To think I was this close—”

“You called her a stray,” Eren reminded.

Connie cocked a brow at him. “Oh, yeah? And what did you call her?”

Eren didn’t answer that. He pushed himself off the wall and shoved his phone into his pocket. “I’m going to get lunch.”

He didn’t want to give Connie the satisfaction of getting a rise out of him, but his dodginess alone was enough for Connie. He looked pleased with himself as he snickered, “What? You’re not gonna offer to get us any?”

“No,” Eren replied. He was too abrupt about it, what with the way he hastily grabbed his keys and wallet. He chose to ignore Connie’s and Jean’s giggling and whispering on his way out. 

It might not always seem like it—especially right now—but the four members of Devil’s Paradise were best friends. As thick as thieves since the tender age of fifteen. But if you asked any of them, they’d say it has felt even longer than that.

The band had humble beginnings, practicing in Jean’s parents’ garage instead of the unimaginable studio they had now. It took nearly a decade of work, but they finally ‘made it,’ as people liked to say. 

Their careers really kicked off a little over a year ago. In Eren’s eyes, it was practically overnight. Now he couldn’t even grab lunch without getting recognized. It had only gotten worse since they snagged a nomination at the upcoming alternative music awards.

Devil’s Paradise was nominated for the best album of the year. Mikasa had incessantly reminded Eren of it every day since—as if he could possibly forget. One minute she’d list all the people they should thank during their acceptance speech, then the next thing Eren knew, she’d grip at the roots of her hair and spout nonsense like, ‘We shouldn’t even bother going. We’re just going to embarrass ourselves.’ There was nothing they could do but wait for the reading of that fateful envelope, but even she was starting to make Eren antsy.

Even so, Eren liked seeing Mikasa like this. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen her so excited over something. Whenever she talked about winning, she looked just like she did when they were kids.

Mikasa was like a sister to Eren. They grew up side-by-side, quite literally. Their parents were next-door neighbors, fating Eren and Mikasa to become best friends before they had even left the womb.

Back then, there was no band. There was only Eren and his guitar, Mikasa and her bass, and their out-of-tune strumming as they attempted to teach themselves how to play. Everything only started to fall into place once they hit high school—when they met Jean and Connie.

Mikasa overheard the duo talking in the cafeteria line. Connie was complaining about getting his brand-new drumsticks confiscated during biology class. ‘Who knew it’s against the rules to drum on the dissection trays?’ And the rest was history—almost.

There were a few kinks they had to iron out, of course. One could imagine the bickering that ensued when they tried to come up with a name, but it only became a brawl once Jean and Eren both wanted to lay claim to the role of guitarist. It only fell to Jean because his singing was subpar, and that was putting it lightly.

But to this day, Mikasa and Eren were still the heart and soul of the band, just like they were back in their parents’ basement or at their school’s talent show or wherever else they found themselves. Eren wrote the lyrics, as always, but he still needed Mikasa’s hand to fine-tune the music.

That was why it was all the more difficult when the two of them butted heads. It was like everything surrounding the band came to a screeching halt. ‘Mom and Dad are fighting,’ Connie would whine. This time was no exception. 

Not surprisingly, their most recent argument involved you. Mikasa genuinely felt bad that you were cornered into this position. Really, she pitied both of you, but she favored you only because she knew Eren could be a dick. The friendlier the two of you became, the more she felt trapped in the middle. And it certainly didn’t help that you and Eren were equally stubborn.

Mikasa suggested Eren should be nicer to you if he wanted this situation to be as painless as possible. She told him you were a good person—that he shouldn’t let his stupid pride get in the way of getting to know you. Eren said she didn’t get it.

Sure, Eren played it cool when you first asked him about the arrangement, but it wasn’t as though he was particularly thrilled about it. He just knew better than to act like a spoiled brat and throw a tantrum over it. Shame on him for getting involved with such a diva. Lesson learned.

Flashback to the morning following the after-party: Eren woke up in Historia’s bed. His eyes opened, and he just sort of stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore the horrible writhing in his gut. He attributed it to his hangover.

The feeling didn’t go away by the time his phone started ringing, loudly. He sifted through the sheets before it could wake Historia, but he struggled to find it. It rang a second time, and she let out a whimper of a groan. Wearing nothing but the bedsheet, she reached as far as she could without falling off the bed to fetch Eren’s phone. She tossed it to him—at him—without looking. 

He missed that call, too. Both of which were from Levi. 

Historia rolled over, looking at him with her cheek smushed against her pillow. “Last night catching up with you already?”

Expectedly, Eren’s phone rang a third time. He watched momentarily before replying, “Yeah, I think so.”

Eren, along with you and the rest of the band, had to sign non-disclosure agreements regarding the phony relationship. Both your teams took the matter entirely too seriously, so Eren couldn’t tell Historia about any of it. He figured he could sort that out later.

It had all become such a massive headache for him. He was relieved to have a moment to himself, even if it was limited to the thirty minutes it’d take him to get lunch.

But as it turned out, he couldn’t even get that because, speak of the devil, your name popped up on his phone screen.

Eren was going to let it go to voicemail, but he heard Mikasa in his head—yes, that happened from time to time. To him, the truly painless option would be to ignore the call, but he decided to answer at the last second.

He clicked the button for speakerphone before saying, “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me,” you said before giving your name.

Eren thought you sounded curt, especially since you were the one barging in on his day, but then again, he was learning you were always like that. “I know. Levi put your number in my phone.”

“It’s really hard to hear you.”

“I’m driving. Hold on.” Eren fumbled to turn off speakerphone. He dropped his phone and, in the hassle, the driver behind him laid on their horn. Frustrated, Eren jammed his phone between his shoulder and ear. “What do you want?”

Eren heard your scoff before you replied, “I’m guessing Levi told you about the party this weekend.” He only made a small grunt of acknowledgment, more focused on turning left at a busy intersection. “People will probably want to talk to us.”

“God forbid,” Eren snarked.

“You know what I’m trying to say! I just think we should, like, rehearse or something—I don’t know.”

Your voice tapered off there at the end, almost nervously. Eren imagined you chewing on your nail in thought on the other end of the line. “You’re really stressin’ about this for no reason, aren’t you?”

“I’m only stressed because I don’t want you to make me look dumb,” you retorted. You were getting mad; Eren could hear it even in the thick silence between you. “I don’t have any time tomorrow, so you have to come by my place as soon as you can.”

“Today? Listen, we don’t need to rehearse anything. I’m supposed to be at practice right now, anyway. I only answered because I’m getting lunch—”

“Great. Bring me something. Whatever you’re having.”

“I’m not—”

“Tell Levi to text you my address.”

And that was that.

When you hung up, Eren chucked his phone into the passenger seat. Stopped at a red light, he rubbed his eyes like he could relieve the tension behind them, cursing under his breath. 

Thirty minutes. He couldn’t even have thirty fucking minutes to himself.

By the time Eren arrived at your apartment, you had finally dressed and made yourself semi-presentable—at least, you weren’t in your robe anymore.

In that time, you decided to ring Pieck. You tried to earn a few brownie points by telling her you invited Eren over to prep for Saturday, but she only told you to post a picture or else it ‘didn’t happen.’

For a split second, you thought you had opened your door to a stranger. You nearly slammed it in Eren’s face when you saw him in a ratty, old baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses too bulky for his face. You figured that was the point, though—to hide his face beyond recognition. Not enough to stop a die-hard fan, but it did the job.

Eren removed the ‘disguise’ once he was inside, setting down his hat and glasses on your entryway table. He tugged on the tie that kept his hair loosely held back, grumbling as he shook it out. “I hate having my hair up.”

“I don’t know. I think it makes you look less scruffy,” you said. You intended it as a dig, but in some way, shape, or form, it didn’t come across as such. You played it off by taking the brown bag from Eren and leading him to your kitchen. “What did you get?”

“Sushi.”

“Sounds good,” you hummed. You set the bag on the counter, plopping on the stool as you pointed across the room. “Chopsticks are in that drawer.”

It was a pleasant surprise that Eren actually listened—less so when he started opening every drawer but the one he needed. You were about to repeat yourself when the receipt stapled to the bag caught your attention. 

“Jeff?” you questioned.

Eren finally found the chopsticks. He didn’t sit at the counter but stood opposite you on the far side of the island. “What? You don’t use a fake name?”

“No, I do,” you said. “It’s just that Jeff isn’t very believable. You don’t look anything like a Jeff.”

He turned the bag around so you could no longer see the receipt. He muttered, as always, when he said, “I wasn’t thinking that hard when I put it down,” as he pulled out your food. Two identical boxes, one placed in front of you. 

You thought on it, just for a moment as you cracked open the plastic lid, then said, “I think you look more like a Dylan.”

“Dylan?” He actually sounded a bit offended by it, causing you to chuckle.

Not that you expected him to, but Eren never asked if you liked what he ordered for you. It was good, but out of sheer pettiness—come on! He couldn’t even give you the common courtesy of asking—you decided not to compliment his taste in sushi. 

You could only compare the time you spent with Eren to a strange dance. A dance neither of you could master. You were cursed with two left feet, awkwardly side-stepping and stomping on each other’s toes again and again. Because of it, there seemed to be an underlying, mutual understanding that neither of you wanted to chit-chat. And that was the only reason lunch wasn’t entirely uncomfortable.

But eventually, you had to talk. There was a purpose to this little meet-up—one greater than hoping the paparazzi snap you canoodling on a park bench. If there wasn't, you wouldn’t have invited him over in the first place. 

There were small but specific details that you’d need to iron out if you and Eren had any hope of making a convincing couple. It worked in your favor that you’d only been seeing each other for two months (wink, wink). There was no pressure to memorize every fun fact and finish each other’s sentences. No one would expect that of the couple so madly in love that they couldn’t keep their hands to themselves for even a second—that didn’t leave too much room for getting to know each other, did it?

But there was just one crucial and absolutely inevitable question you’d hear time and time again. 

“They’re going to ask us how we met,” you said. It was the first break in silence, making you the loser of this invisible game between you.

You set down your chopsticks and placed your chin on the heel of your hand. After a thoughtful pause, you said, “Well, you obviously asked me out first.” That grabbed Eren’s attention. He glared at you, about to interrupt, so you jumped in. “After sliding into my DMs, perhaps?”

“Wait a second.”

“Telling me how pretty I am and that you’d just love to get to know me over a drink.” There was an airiness about you the more you played it up.

“I wouldn’t do—”

“And when you met me in person—” You mawkishly clasped your hands together. “—it was like love at first sight.”

Eren appeared more bored than usual, something you didn’t think was possible. “Finished yet?”

What a mood killer.

“Someone can’t take a joke,” you complained, dropping your hands to the cold marble. “Do you have a better idea? Because I don’t know where we would have casually bumped into each other.”

“At an after-party,” Eren answered smartly. 

You frowned. Frankly, you were not looking to craft some elaborate story. The less convoluted, the better. You needed a tale dull enough that reporters would cruise on by rather than nitpick you apart. Something that even Eren couldn’t mess up. 

“Besides the last part, you DMing me the most obvious route,” you said. “It’s practically un-fuck-up-able.”

“That’s not a word.”

This was going nowhere. You conceded to your phone, something to distract you, while you tried to unclench your teeth.

“Embellish it however you want, I don’t care, but we’re sticking with my story. And while we’re at it—” A benefit of inviting Eren over rather than arranging a meeting was that with no one else around—no Petra, no Pieck who’d undoubtedly call you a bitch—you finally had the liberty to demand, “I’m going to need a few things from you. Don’t give me that look.” 

Behind the speckle of hatred in your eyes, there was a dash of desperation, a subtle plead to hear you out. It annoyed Eren because it reminded him of Mikasa again. 

He sighed reluctantly. “Fine. Let’s hear ‘em.”

You straightened out like you were ready to make your presenting argument. “First, when this whole thing is over, I’m dumping you. Not the other way around, and definitely nothing mutual.” You pointed your chopsticks toward Eren’s takeout. “Are you going to finish that?”

He slid the container away from you, which was enough of an answer. “Is your pride seriously that important to you?”

He was one to talk. 

“Think of it this way,” you started, a crude smile pulling at your lips. “I’m sure if you come crawling back to Historia all heartbroken, she’ll be more than happy to lick your wounds.”

He didn’t seem to appreciate the dating advice but let you continue with your rules.

“Speaking of Historia, I won’t stop you from getting back with her because, truthfully, I’m not all that interested in what or who you do in private. Just don’t get caught with her in public.” It was a fair stipulation—more than fair. “Can you at least promise me that?”

He gruffed a noncommittal, “Whatever.”

“No, you have to swear,” you asserted. For emphasis, you stuck out your pinky. Eren gave you that look again, but you didn’t back down. “I take this very seriously.”

Apparently, that was deserving of another (exaggerated) sigh from him, but he linked his pinky finger with yours anyway. “Fine. I promise.”

A small victory, but it was a step in the right direction, nonetheless. And for once, you were the smug one. “Thank you.”

♡ ♡ ♡

Saturday rolled around faster than you wanted. Funny how it always worked like that—how dreaded events always came sooner than the enjoyable ones. 

You spent your Friday in the recording studio—usually one of your longer days, but even an afternoon stuck inside didn’t slow down time.

Next thing you knew, you were stiff and slumped in front of the mirror, wiggly with anxiety, as your face was poked and prodded.

“Babes, you have to stay still for me,” your makeup artist urged, her voice still as sweet as the first time she reminded you. You quietly apologized, trying not to move.

You hadn’t had a day to yourself since the after-party. And even that was a few measly hours. If you weren’t recording, then you were practicing for upcoming studio sessions—warm-ups, vocal lessons, everything. And if it wasn’t practice, then you were on tour. 

This was supposed to be your downtime. Your scheduled, well-deserved downtime that you now had to spend latched to your insufferable fake boyfriend. 

Eren, Eren, Eren. He was all anyone wanted to talk about these days. It was as if you lived your entire life without knowing of his existence, only to wake up one morning to discover he was the name on everyone’s tongue. You couldn’t catch a break from reality even when you shut your eyes in the makeup chair—a not-so-subtle hint you weren’t up for conversation while you were being fussed over. No, this evening’s styling team was far too invested in your love life, despite it being none of their business. 

The woman finishing your makeup was so surprised to learn you and Eren were ‘an item,’ as she coined it. She gushed about it as she warmed and patted concealer on your under eyes. It didn’t help your nervous blinking. 

Was this really how they’d react if you were to seriously date someone?

“Yeah. It’s—uh, it’s new-ish,” was all you could get out. 

Every one of your answers was short. They didn’t seem to notice, so captivated by the sound of their own voices that they didn’t hear the nervousness in yours. 

The woman styling your hair had this glint in her eye from the moment she saw you. You fixed on her smile, all teeth, in the mirror’s reflection until she confessed she was a massive Devil’s Paradise fan. She had their album cover set as the lock screen on her phone. She even showed it to you. 

At some point in the conversation, she said, “I mean, you’ve seen him on stage, right? The guy’s sex on legs.”

Less of a Devil’s Paradise fan and more of an Eren Jaeger fan, wouldn’t you say?

To you, it was merely background noise—you weren’t even positive she was talking to you—but it earned her a smack on the arm from your makeup artist.

“Obviously she’s seen him on stage. That’s her boyfriend.”

She put extra emphasis on that word. The b-word.

You supposed it was rather bold of her, wasn’t it? One would think she’d have the common sense to not say that around someone’s significant other—if it were a real relationship, of course. 

The truth of the matter was that you’d bet she knew more about Eren than you did. You hadn’t even seen him perform outside of the ten minutes you stumbled upon online while she had seen him live in concert (she told you twice).

It was all so stupid and weird and sort of hilarious. How your makeup artist ran to defend a relationship that didn’t exist, how your hair stylist fidgeted with embarrassment over a comment you couldn’t care less about. You almost wanted to belly laugh. 

If only they knew. 

The sun was almost set by the time your car parked, its orange crest melting over the tops of palms. The breeze was crisp for the first time in weeks, enough that you had tucked yourself into the corner of the backseat for warmth. Your sheer-in-all-the-right-places dress wasn’t cutting it. 

Like a real couple, you and Eren arrived together. Petra, too, sat between you. She sounded just as enthusiastic as she did during your first meeting, like she believed she could magically brighten the damp mood.

There was a short walk to the venue, and the three of you were escorted there by security. Petra spent the first half of it scolding Eren because he didn’t hold the car door open for you. ‘What was I supposed to do? Someone opened it for us.’  You didn’t say it, but he had a point. Even so, that didn’t stop her.

You were beginning to think she had read one too many romance novels when you heard her whispering to Eren, her voice no greater than a hiss as she demanded him to give you his jacket. No, not just give it to you but put it on you. 

This was the part where Eren would agree, and Petra would insert a collective awe from the crowd if she could. 

Eren vetoed the idea immediately. He didn’t slow or look back at either of you when he said, “No way. She’s a big girl, she can handle it.”

His major attitude had you and Petra stopped dead in your tracks, both of you gasping an offended, “Eren!” 

Look, it wasn’t like you wanted his jacket—the leather would clash with your outfit—but did he seriously need to act like going out of his way for you was torture?

Petra hurried to catch up with him. “Need I remind you that you have an audience?”

She was right. Outside the entrance was a swarm of cameras and phones, every one directed at whoever was locked in their crossfire next. 

Eren didn’t mask his hesitancy well. It was written across his face as he forked over the jacket, unwilling to lay it over your shoulders. Out of spite, you beamed at him as though he had done it correctly. An expression so endearing that anyone looking in would undoubtedly find it sweet, but Eren knew better than that. He saw right through the facade, clicking his teeth at you before turning away. 

You slung on the jacket one arm after another, and instantly, the scent of it—of Eren—made your stomach clench. You were brought back to that night. The same warm scent that tickled your nose, just without the stench of alcohol. Whatever arrogance you clung to a second ago had now slipped through your manicured fingers. 

Before you stepped inside, Eren’s hand took hold of your wrist and tugged you aside. Rightfully, you were caught off guard. As you opened your mouth to ask why he thought he could manhandle you like that, he shoved a hand into his jacket’s pocket to retrieve a pack of cigarettes. 

You were sure he only wanted you for the cigarettes. Even more sure that he most likely wanted you to skitter along now, but you hung around to ask, “You smoke?”

“No. I quit two years ago,” Eren answered. Then he placed a cigarette between his lips, sparking the end with a lighter he pulled from his back pocket.

“That doesn’t look like quitting two years ago.”

He took a short drag. On his exhale, he said, “Stress cigarettes don’t count.”

Stop the presses. This just in: Eren Jaeger was capable of experiencing human emotion.

Jokes aside, getting worked up over such a contrived event didn’t seem to fit the vibe he had going on. He certainly didn’t look worried, staring out at the road as he puffed his cigarette like you weren’t even there.

You swallowed the scoff you wanted to let out. He had some audacity to mock you for wanting to rehearse the other day when he was as unnerved as you.

Eren cleared his throat, and it shook you from the thought. You pointed out, “That can’t be good for your voice.”

“Good thing I could retire tomorrow if I felt like it,” he said dryly. 

You couldn’t hold it in this time; you snorted derisively and handed back his jacket. “I’ll see you inside.”

Petra’s voice trailed after you as you headed inside, but you weren’t the one signing her checks, so she stayed behind with Eren. Finally, you had a moment to yourself, even if you were surrounded by hundreds of others.

The place was packed already, dolled up in retro pastels. Femininity dialed up to an eleven. Imagine the slumber party of your cotton candy dreams—glossy lips, feathery pillow fights, and bottle girls draped in silk nighties. It was gaudy, in your face, and pure camp. You didn’t expect anything less.

A hostess escorted you to your booth, toward the very back of the club. On your way, Sasha spotted you, bouncing over in her satin set and slippers. She looked adorable and perfectly on theme, down to the fluffy eyemask perched on her pony-tailed head. It was hard to hear her over the bass thrumming in your ears, but she swore she would come and find you later. 

It didn’t take long to realize your lunch with Eren was nothing more than just that—lunch. Wasted time you’d never get back no matter how much you enjoyed the sushi. Outside of some photos here or there, dropping a few hints about your new single, and smushing your face with Sasha’s for that article-worthy photo-op, no one batted at you and Eren, together, even if he did stick out like a sore thumb. 

“Never thought I’d be at one of these,” Eren said as he sat at your side, leaving an awkward foot of space between you.

“You’re welcome for the free exposure.”

You glanced over at him. He looked too big for the booth. It didn't help that the contrast of his deep hair—his clothes even darker, from his jacket to the toe of his boot—was stark against the white plush.

Without missing a beat, he quipped, “It’s not free if I have to follow you around all night.”

“There are worst things.” You gritted your teeth into a smile to disguise that you were throwing snide comments back and forth like daggers. “You know, like being followed around by you all night.”

“That right?” It was a challenge. You saw it in his eyes, whatever it was, and you didn’t like it. “Well, it’s a good thing you came anyway. You could use something to cover that huge zit on your forehead.”

He was boyish and crass as he said it, flustering you. You couldn’t even begin to explain how stupid he sounded—that eyeshadow wouldn’t cover a pimple—because he probably wouldn’t get it.

You slapped a hand over your blemish and hissed, “I should tell my makeup team you said that because, apparently, they’re fans of yours for some unbeknownst reason.”

You were nothing more than an irritation to him, a fly buzzing in his ear; you could sense it. “I’m going to get a drink.”

“Aren’t you going to offer to bring me one?” you cooed. It was laced with acid though you wore the same soft-eyed expression as before, when he handed you his jacket. 

You reminded Eren of Connie. And he was about to blow you off just the same when a better idea popped into his head—a little something to entertain himself during this snooze fest of an evening. A reward for playing along, if you will (you wouldn’t). 

What? It wasn’t his fault that it was incredibly easy to get under your skin. 

“Sure,” he replied, but he didn’t leave your side. He left a lengthy pause between you, sliding closer to place a hand on your thigh. He angled closer to you, like he wanted to sell the happy couple schtick, but he had on a cat-like grin. “For a kiss on the cheek.”

You folded your arms tightly, your entire being on lock. “No.”

“C’mon. It’ll look like we’re fighting if you don’t.” He still wore that wicked smile as he pestered you with a cocked head. “Your face is scrunched up. Everyone will think you’re mad.”

That’s because I am mad. You wished you could shout it out loud, but you knew he wasn’t wrong. From the corner of your eye, through the crowds and flouncy servers, Petra was looking—no, staring—at you. She looked concerned, like she was about to race over to you, so you forced another smile. If this kept up, there was no doubt in your mind you’d leave the party with a broken tooth.

“Fine,” you agreed, but only to get him away from you. Eren’s hand was still on your leg. He grazed over the exposed skin, just once, so it didn’t qualify as a caress, but it still knotted your stomach like earlier. 

You pecked his cheek. The skin under your eyes started to burn. “I’ll have a vodka soda. Two limes. Now go away.”

“Right away, angel.” He was too pleased with himself. 

“Don’t call me that.”

Across the way, Petra shot you a corny double thumbs-up, as if that meant anything. You acknowledged her with another painted smile, hoping Eren could hurry up with that much-needed drink. 

He hadn’t returned by the time Sasha found you, as promised. You missed the conversational crutch of having a drink in hand, but luckily, she appeared to be drunk enough for the both of you.

She took a heavy seat next to you, sitting closer than Eren dared. Her knee brushed against yours, and she spoke to you with gin-stained breath. Like everyone else, she was shocked to learn about you and Eren, and you entertained her no differently.

‘Yes, it’s new.’

‘Oh, yeah. He’s just great.’

‘Only two months, yep.’

You should have been ashamed of how little attention you offered her, but wasn’t there anything better to talk about? Really, if you had a dollar for every time someone mentioned Devil’s Paradise, you, like Eren, could retire tomorrow. Tonight, actually. So fast that you could run laps around his retirement—if you wanted to make it a competition, which you weren’t above. 

But unlike the others, Sasha didn’t sound like just another fangirl. She spoke as though she knew them well, and it felt like treading water trying to keep up with her because, in reality, you knew close to nothing about these people. Any of them. Especially Jean and Connie who, as it turned out, were surprisingly good friends with Sasha. Who would have thought? 

She leaned into you, real close. The type of closeness that excited you, like she was about to start a soap-box confessional.

“They’re really good guys,” she said. She said it knowingly, too. The slur in her speech disappeared; the haziness about her features faded. Suddenly, she was stone-cold sober. It felt like she was letting you in on something.

“Look, this thing—” She waved her hand flippantly, referencing the sexy babydoll (can those words be put together?) fantasy surrounding you. “It isn’t me. If it were up to me, I would have been happy to enjoy my launch from my bed, downing an entire pizza all by myself.”

You weren’t sure why she was telling you this or what she meant. But if she, like you, could see through the bullshit—

“But it’s all in good fun, right? And who doesn’t love fun?” Sasha raised her glass high, no longer whispering but slipping back to her drunk, ditzy persona. Just in time for Eren to return.

They said hello, they hugged, and then Sasha offered one last glance, like she could see straight through you—the two of you. But it wasn’t malicious; it was sympathetic. 

If there truly was a bright side to this—Mikasa said there always was—then perhaps it was that you’d end up with two genuine friendships. Fingers crossed.

♡ taglist: @daisynik7 @bejewelledd @lifesuckssomuchtbh @vanessani @intimacywithceline @6sakusa @softjaegerhours @akvrae @sundazedm1 @bomjug @rinshoe @sunasbunnie @okaystopwhore @lem-hhn @brooks-lin @writing2live @ichinosejager13 @littlemochi @sveetnn @elliesbabygirl @sugurunicorn @utahimeow @batafuraikisu @arendizzle @blushblossomsblog @conniesbbymama @wonupuppy @drugzforyou @wtfiswrongwithme1 @str4wberrylover @pompompurjin @bingbongbingbongsblog @josukesss @my-wide-open-eyes @vlsquuu @0bruise @dudaoosstuff please let me know if i missed you or you'd like to be added/removed!

*additionally, i noticed some of the tags weren't working properly. if yours didn't work and you'd like it to, check your settings and see if it allows your blog to appear in search results. i promise, i so badly want to tag you, but i think my brain will melt if i keep trying. hopefully i’ll sort it out next time!

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader

[filmbyjy]

TWITTER SUCKS! > thirty-five! my other half

synopsis > who knew you could become famous overnight for paying $8 for a single blue checkmark? however, it does come with consequences…what happens when the actual BELIFT Lab comes knocking at your door. all because you simply impersonated your bias.

masterlist | previous | end

a/n: i am so sorry this took soooo long but i was procrastinating and i was mentally recuperating. blaming my studio project for this 😍 this is the final chapter of TWITTER SUCKS! it's also a little chaotic and honestly have a feeling i lost my writer's touch since i haven't wrote in a long time. however, thank you for joining me on this ride and sticking around till the end! I will be coming back with more writings and hopefully continuing with the series that I had before! of course, the new smau that will come out eventually ‘Collie Duty’ which I have no plans to release just yet😪 but it will be released maybe in the second half of 2023!

[placing this in case the read more messed up]

who knew after an incident that so happened to go viral. to the point where you were kidnapped and threatened to be sued by BELIFT, would actually get you to meet lee heeseung and be his girlfriend.

the past 7 months you could never have thought that. it had only been 7 months but it felt like a whole year when it happened. somehow it felt nostalgic looking back the tweets you had. it was hectic. complete 0.01% chance of this happening to anyone in the world. yet, somehow you were blessed to have gone through this.

you managed to steal heeseung’s heart. you made new friends but they’re actual idols (read: enhypen). you became famous. fought a company for a stupid reason which was that you were impersonating their idol. you even kicked a creepy staff out of BELIFT! which, you weren’t surprised. she’s a sasaeng at this point. maybe worse.

but oh my god, dating lee heeseung. it’s such a blessing-

“princess?” heeseung waves his hand in front of you. “are you having an inner monologue or something?” he snorts.

you rolled your eyes, “do you never have an inner monologue?”

“no? why would I?”

“lame. you ain’t in your main character era.”

“princess, I’m always the main character and you know it.” he smirks. you shoved him lightly.

“god, you’re starting to sound like sunghoon.”

“hmm, it’s as if I haven’t been living with him for the past 3 years.” he says with sarcasm.

“did you and sunoo have some sass off or something? why are you so sassy today?”

“sorry, I just don’t understand why some ENGENEs don’t appreciate the dancers’ hard work. I mean I get they’re girls but fucking hell, we’re just dancing to the choreo given to us.”

“well, do you want my honest opinion?”

“oh are you jealous too, princess?” he smirks a little.

“yeah, I am but i’m jealous of you. not the dancers. they’re hot. do you have their numbers by the w-”

“no. I don’t text the dancers so you can’t have their numbers.” he sulks.

“aww, is my little heeseung angy.” you cooed at heeseung. he huffs.

“angy isn’t even a word.”

“in my books it is and besides you’re so cute when you’re jealous.”

“I thought you’d be mad.”

“pfftt why would I be mad. I know it’s just a dance, you’ve practiced this for months. which makes it even better for the chemistry.”

“yeah but my part has you know…”

“what? her just literally trailing her hands on your arms? I mean it did get me jealous but at the end of the day, who are you kissing?” you smirked.

“you…” heeseung pouts.

“exactly.” you smiled. “i’m not worried about you cheating on me, heeseung. besides, I don’t think you could cheat on me because you love me too much.”

“you’re right.” heeseung grabs your hand and squeezes it. “I love you too much for that.”

“that’s my boy.” you proudly say.

meanwhile, on the other side of the wall.

“jayyyyy.” mae whines. jay smirks.

“what is this? my girlfriend is acting all whiny? it’s like you and (name) noona switched bodies.”

“urghh i’m sorry i’m having period cramps.” mae complains. jay’s eyes widened.

he gasps, “my queen is in pain? oh my god, let me go grab tons of period care things!” jay runs out of the room.

there was a scream across the hall.

“YAHHH NISHIMURA RIKI!!! DID YOU USE MY FACIAL WASH???” subin yells.

there were a couple of haste footsteps, which only meant…

“NOONA WAIT!” ni-ki yells out. let's all pray for ni-ki that he gets out alive safely.

"YAH YAH! break it up!" jungwon yells.

both you and heeseung could hear the commotion in the background but you could careless about what was going on because...

"it's you and me against this world, princess." heeseung purrs.

"are you trying to seduce with 'Bite Me' or something?" you deadpans.

"what? no-" heeseung sighs. "forget it. I was just being romantic."

you narrowed your eyes at heeseung, "anyways, i heard you guys are gonna start with world tours soon."

"ah, right. the 'fate' world tour. will you be watching it?"

"do you think i'm made of money? heeseung, i'm a broke college student."

"you have a job?"

"a mere cafe job. that's gonna take me months to save up. i could even barely afford to buy the ‘Dark Moon’ album.” you huffed.

“aww, princess. you have me, I could’ve gotten the albums for you for free and I could’ve thrown my photocards in there for extras.” he pinches your cheeks.

"now where is the fun in that? i like the surprise element of opening albums."

"and if you don't get any of my photocards?" heeseung folds his arms.

"then too bad. oh right, i saw jay looking sooo hot in that vampire photocard-"

heeseung shuts you up with a kiss. there were screams at the door and they were both from jake and sunghoon. you couldn't fully make out what they were saying. something about how mae and jay were busy being chummy, sunoo and subin pinching each others cheeks and then kissing each other.

you couldn't bother to focus on them. not when you have such a hot boy kissing you right on the lips. the same hot boy who was also your boyfriend.

and you couldn't ask for anything better than this.

you were happy.

series taglist[closed]: @lovers-szn @shiguresohmas @moonshoon @byunappetit @strvlveera @rikisly @4lythe @lalalalawon @beansworldsstuff @enhastolemyheart @jaehaki @shinsou-rii @jeanbob @sxftiell @renchai @nyfwyeonjun @invusblog @lhees01 @donghyckl @enhafika @dimplewonie @foxsunoo @run2-gyu @lvrjjun @curly-fr13s @bubblytaetae @raikea10 @ce1ight @luvlee1313 @rizzshimura @soobisrealgfnotfake @stantxtorurmissingout @l0tisflower @jseobsky @lovelickiez @liliansun @kyanmeai @nobodyshallenter @faeryhee @pkjay @mlink64 @luxurystark-jackson @aleombre @yenqa @heestrawberries @soaen @ckline35 @http-gyu @climbingmandevillas @stopeatread @y4wnjunz @aetherlol @whippedforbeomgyu @elisabeth-02

#this chapter was short and I felt like it wasn’t that great #but hey the series ended🥹 #thank you all for sticking around🫶🏻 #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen imagine #enhypen angst #enhypen smau #enhypen fluff #TWITTER SUCKS! #TWITTER SUCKS! smau #heeseung #heeseung imagines #heeseung imagine #heeseung angst #heeseung smau #heeseung fluff #lee heeseung #lee heeseung imagines #lee heeseung imagine #lee heeseung angst #lee heeseung smau #lee heeseung fluff #kpop #kpop smau #smau

[chubbycelebs]

The Weight of Fame (part 3)

As the months went by, the pounds kept adding up. Harry had really gone from fit, toned and in shape to now a mound of lard. His abs had stretched into a belly, now extended so far over his crotch, it was impossible for him to see his own dick. His chest and thighs grew thicker and bigger, pushing the seams of his clothes. But even though Harry now has a huge hairy body, he loved it. The feeling of a tight stomach after stuffing his belly all day, clothes he used to love bursting off his jiggly belly. There wasn't anything that Harry missed about being skinny, because being fat was so much better.

One morning as Harry put on a shirt, not even bothering to button it up already knowing his belly would bust the buttons off, he became intreigued by his weight. He hadn't actually stepped on the scales since putting all this weight on. He knew in his peak he was about 150lbs but he was wondering how much he had gained since those days.

Harry pulled the scales out and stood and looked at them for a while. Did he want to put a number on his weight gain? Did he really want to know just how big he had gotten or would that make him self concious of his huge size. As Harry rubbed his gut, he decided to give his fat friend Louis a call.

Since their last long phone call, the two had kept in contact over messages. Harry Loved talking to Louis, not even about getting fat but just everyday things. In fact when he thought about it, the two had hardly bought up the fact they both had stuffed their bellies fat. Harry decided to call Louis over his concerns about his big gut. He pressed to face time and after a few seconds of waiting, he answered.

Harry on his screen, even though he was not showing off his belly, still looked very chubby, his cheeks and double chin were becoming very prominate. On the other hand however, Louis looked how he did when they were in the band. Harry thought that he must have gained mostly in the belly and not in the face.

"You're alright Harry!" Louis said smiling, very happy to see his chubby friend on screen again.

"Yeah I'm great thank you! I've been eating pretty well" Harry said with a chuckle, pointing the camera at his belly, giving his gut a shake. Louis laughed at this and blushed slightly but then his face dropped slightly. "Whats up?"

Louis looked down at this body and then pointed the camera down. Harry did not see a big bulbous stomach like his, instead Louis body had gone back to how it was back in the band. "I had to lose it all Harry. My PR team said that if I was to be fat when I release my album, I'll lose my sex appeal and this album can't flop. I'm sorry Harry." Harry didn't know what to say. Now every member of One Direction had released music apart from him and he was still a fat slob. "I'll probably gain it back one day Harry, don't worry. I enjoyed being fat like I said, I just need this to go well." Harry understood but couldn't help but be disappointed with the outcome. He hung up the phone and plopped him self on the sofa, eating a tub of ice cream. Harry sat there filling his belly up bigger and wondered if this would last. Can he really stay this big? Would he have to lose it like Louis did?

As he began to spiral he then thought, why is he worrying about that now? He is still not close to the album being done, he still doesn't need to see anyone in public yet, and he still had a few months left before his PR team would ask for his first solo project plans. In the moment Harry decided to give in, and get as big as he could. He didn't know if this could last a few months or years but he knew he wanted to get as huge as possible. And so Harry did just that.

Harry walked to the mirror and looked at himself the next morning. His unshaven face and long hair showed how little he cared for his appearance. He then lifted his shirt up to reveal his big hair belly. He stood and looked at his fat body in the mirror, still finding it hard to believe that he was really this big. He placed his hands on his gut, gave it a violent shake and said "Lets get you nice and big" with a final big slap as he went to the kitchen.

For the next few months Harry spent every waking moment filling his lard covered body with greasy fattening food. He was expanding from every direction, unstoppable endlessly stuffing his gut. And he loved it. The feeling of his body pushing further outwards, the constant jiggling and movement of the fat. If he could get bigger faster he would because he loved this feeling so much.

In between the stuffing and playing with him self, Harry was inspired to keep playing new music and descovering his sound. It seemed that the more he expanded the easier it was for him to make new music. It took the pressure off him when he sat down at the piano and could feel his belly pressed against it.

Harry had now grown out of his clothes apart from his grey sweats. Everyday he'd walk around just in his underwear or jogging bottoms if it was cold. His fat covered body kept the rest of his body warm. Its huge size made sure to keep his privates covered as well.

As the final month of his break began to come to a close, he was also finishing up his album and all the songs he wanted on it. He called his manager and arranged a meeting for the last week of the month. Harry didn't even think to warn his manager of his change in appearance. He had significantly changed since he was last seen by anyone. He had truly never even thought to get this big let alone actually get to this size. He was most defenatly obese if not morbidly. But Harry loved it. He felt so relaxed and happy with his body and comfortable with his lifestyle. This however was all about to change.

Sorry that this next part has taken so long to come out. I've been very busy over the last week or so but I hope to get this story done this week. I hope you guys are still enjoying this story and where it is going. The story will be taking a different turn in the next part so I hope you enjoy that. Thank you!

#fat #fatty #male weight gain #men getting fatter #fat men #cute belly #fat belly #fatboy #fit to fat #full belly #fatass #fat piggy #big fatty #fat guy #fat boy #big belies #hairy #getting bigger #bigger is better #sexy belly #beer belly #feedee belly #belly expansion #chubby #exjock #gut #fat gut #beer gut #bloated gut #gaining

[corvus--rex]

This got a pretty "meh" response on the bird app. Let's see how it does here. This is parts 1 & 2 as of right now

~~~

pt 1

Ever think that the tight clothes, gloves, tiny jacket that does absolutely nothing are because Keith believes he doesn't deserve care, comfort, softness? Lance hadn't, until he really noticed Keith's body language for the first time after the Blade trials. The tightly crossed arms, how he kept himself separated from everyone else even when in the same room, how he always looked ready to bolt at the slightest whisper. He kept everyone at arm's length, reinforcing that distance with sharp-tongued jabs and insults.

It got so much worse after Shiro disappeared. Keith's normally prickly at best exterior had been dipped in venom and no one could stop him from disappearing for hours in Red, scouring space for any sign of his missing brother. Lance couldn't even begin to articulate the relief he felt when it came time to have Black pick a new paladin. He didn't want Keith to be forced into a role he was in no fit state to be in and had already decided that he wanted it to be himself instead. Keith may be an asshole, but Lance cared about that asshole.

Lance reluctantly sat in the pilot's seat, running reverent fingertips over the controls. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, the silence of the cockpit holding the weight of a tomb until he finally let out a shaky breath.

"Hey, Black. I-I know you probably don't want me, but it's only me and Keith left, and I know what Shiro said about him leading the team if anything happened, but…I don't think he can do it, and I know I'm not the best option, but I'd rather it be me than him. He needs time to come back from this. He needs to be taken care of for once, and if this is only way I can do that, if it means I have to lead the team, I'll do it. I know I'm not as smart as Pidge or Hunk, but I'm stubborn as fuck and I'll get there. Just, please, let me take this on so he doesn't have to."

If the silence had been heavy before, now it was oppressive. Slowly, the weight became pressure, a focused pressure in the back of his mind, silence growing into a whisper. A soft purr rolled through the cockpit as the controls flared to life, filling the space with an ultraviolet glow.

Lance released the breath he'd been holding all at once. "Thanks. I'll give it my best."

He tried to get up, but Black's mental presence pushed him back down, the projected image feeling more real than illusory. He recognized the mechanical angelic wings from when Shiro had last flown the lion, but then the image shifted, a fully formed Voltron taking up his field of vision with similar but much larger wings. The feeling he got from Black was one of reassurance and a hint of things to come. With another soft rumble, the mental pressure dissipated, and Lance stood, Blacks head lowering as he walked down the ramp to the collective shouts and cheers from the team.

Lance couldn't help but notice one voice missing. Keith stood leaning against the wall but instead of the closed-off posture he almost always adopted, his arms hung limply at his sides, the shock on his face overshadowed by the tears of pure relief threatening to spill over. Lance shot him a small smile, one that said 'it's ok, I got you'. Keith understood, shooting one back in thanks as he wiped the tears away and slipped out without anyone else noticing. Lance watched him go, a realization just as startling as Black accepting him as his paladin hitting with the force of that very lion.

'Oh,'

Lance thought,

'Oh shit.'

He could barely hear the rest of the team over his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

'I think I'm falling in love with him.'

-~-

pt 2

Lance tried to make the adjustment period as smooth as possible, but they were all dealing with Shiro's loss, all grieving in their own way, although none quite like Keith. He tried to accommodate him as much as possible - Lance knew too well the pain of losing family - but he still needed to run the team through drills, both on the training deck and in space, forming Voltron again and again until he was confident they could do it in the heat of battle, especially with Allura flying Blue.

Outside of training, Lance was having a harder time keeping his newly realized feelings in check. Keith was more closed off than he'd been in a while, so Lance kept an eye on him as best he could, inviting Keith to game and movie nights in the lounge, including him in more conversations during mealtimes, but never pushing, and always respecting the answers he got.

Keith had actually started to relax a bit, accepting invitations when he was up to it sitting alongside the team but not always participating in whatever they were doing that night, letting himself get drawn into conversations even if he wasn't actively adding anything, just listening. Lance was starting to think they were making progress, both as a team and with their healing process, until Thayserix.

They'd lost Lotor in the gas giant, and Lance had to watch as Red took off beyond the shortened range of Black's sensors. He knew Keith couldn't possibly hope to track Lotor through the gas, and landed on a nearby mineral structure to wait.

He couldn't contact the team, and there was nothing to see within visual range, so he was left with only his own thoughts. Lance thought about how he was handling leading the team - he was honestly a little surprised they'd accepted him as Black Paladin, but when Lance brought it up just after training one day Allura had said that Black chose him for a reason, just as all the lions had chosen their Paladins. Both Hunk and Pidge told him that they had been friends for a while, far longer than they'd been in space, he'd been their pilot back when they were a flight crew at the Garrison, and while he may have been a little unhinged, they trusted him then and they still did. Coran echoed all of their sentiments, adding that he understood how hard it was to push forward while so far from home and that he was genuinely proud of Lance for continuing on in spite of everything. Lance nearly broke down in front of the whole team, instead accepting one of Coran's patented Dad Hugs™.

What Keith had said surprised him. He'd gotten pulled into what became the group hug with Coran on Lance's other side, and when they broke apart, he'd said quietly, for Lance only, "Shiro trusted you. He'd be happy it was you to fly Black. I trust you too. Black picked you and I'm happy he did. You're a better leader than I could be."

The soft, /shy/ look on Keith's face made Lance's brain short-circuit. He scrambled to come up with something, anything, even remotely coherent as he watched Keith walk out with the rest of the team.

The only thought that came to mind was 'How dare he be that cute?' Lance froze. 'Oh I am so fucked.'

#my writing #threadfic import #keith kogane #lance mcclain #keith x lance #klance #preklance #Black Paladin Lance #s.2+ rewrite?? I guess?? #idfk #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender

[ghouly-boiiiii]

My Name Is Cooper

Chapter 3 Of Ferals and Centaurs

<< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >>

Lucy x Cooper Howard / The Ghoul

Tags: angst, fluff, romance, humor, banter, femdom, alcohol and drug use, eventual smut

In this chapter...

“In fact, while we’re on the subject…” The Ghoul said as he shifted his feet a little. “And since we gonna be spendin’ some time together, I figure I ought to tell you this now too...” He took a somber breath. “If it ever so happens that I run outta vials and collapse like that again... and I lose consciousness... you gotta shoot me before I wake up. You got that?”

Lucy blinked, then looked up at him again. “Why?” She furrowed her brow and frowned. Even though she didn’t like him very much, she also didn’t like the idea of having to kill him either. Not unless she absolutely had to, and was sure of it. "...When you wake up… would you be feral?”

He just looked at her and pressed his lips together. 

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2,400

SPOILER WARNING: Contains all the spoilers

No trigger warnings except eventual sexy time with a zombie man.

Inside the vault, there wasn’t really much of note. Even though there was still power, it was quite dark. Many of the light bulbs had either been broken or gone out over time. The place was ransacked. There were dead bodies strewn about. Some were wearing vault suits, others looked like raiders. Whatever happened here, Lucy didn’t really care. Normally, she would have wanted to know. But after everything that’d happened, her mind was in other places.

Between The Ghoul and Dogmeat, she didn’t have to do much. Dogmeat took care of the roaches, and she was rather shocked by how quickly her ghoul companion swept through each room. Like he knew exactly where to look, exactly what to look for. Although she realized she shouldn’t be surprised, she still found it impressive. And he even gave her some tips and tricks along the way.

“Check that box there.” He pointed out to her a yellow ammo container. 

Lucy went over and tried to open it. “It’s locked.”

“Mmm…” He rummaged in his pack a moment, then handed her a bobby pin.

She looked at it questioningly. “Umm… what’s this for?”

“To pick the lock.”

The former vault dweller blinked. “I’ve never picked a lock before.”

“Well… it’s a good time to learn.” He said. “Go on now. Give it a try.”

She blinked again, then took the pin, kneeled down in front of the box, and stuck it in the hole. 

After feeling around a moment she said, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You’ll figure it out.” The Ghoul said, then leaned against the wall casually and tilted his head as he watched her.

“Ugh… okay…” She said, frustrated but determined. As she kept at it, she had to say something to fill the dead air. Apparently, The Ghoul had gotten tired of talking, because now he was just standing there watching silently. 

“So… about your name.”

“Ahh…” 

“What if I take a guess?”

“Drop it, Vaulty.”

“Is it… John?” 

“No.”

“What about Nick?” 

“Even if you guess it, I’m not gonna tell ya.”

“Okay. What if I give you a name?”

“Sweetheart, I ain’t your fuckin’ dog.” 

“So I take it you’d be opposed to being called Rover?” She joked.

“Ugh…” The Ghoul rolled his eyes. “You want me to open that?”

“No. I’ll get it… I think I’m… getting the hang of this.” She said, furrowing her brow in concentration. 

“Ehhh…” The Ghoul exhaled. “So, Vaulty... How did you take out that Super Duper Mart anyway?” 

“Well, uh…” Lucy smiled sheepishly as she twisted and turned the bobby pin. “Actually, it was… kind of an accident.” Then her expression got sullen. “I… I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt…” 

“You’re the one that got ‘em to release all them ghouls, huh?”

She glanced over at him and he started to laugh.

“Well, ain’t you a good samaritan.”

“They were being held captive! I couldn’t just leave them there…” She huffed and looked over at him. “I mean, I got you those vials, didn’t I? Are you gonna make fun of me for that too?” 

“Well… I just hope you learned something from that experience.” He said, tilting his head down and raising his eyebrows. “You don't mess around with feral ghouls.”

“Yeah…” She said as she put her arms down a moment to give them a break. “I got that...” 

“In fact, while we’re on the subject…” The Ghoul said as he shifted his feet a little. “And since we gonna be spendin’ some time together, I figure I ought to tell you this now too...” He took a somber breath. “If it ever so happens that I run outta vials and collapse like that again... and I lose consciousness... you gotta shoot me before I wake up. You got that?”

Lucy blinked, then looked up at him again. “Why?” She furrowed her brow and frowned. Even though she didn’t like him very much, she also didn’t like the idea of having to kill him either. Not unless she absolutely had to, and was sure of it. "...When you wake up… would you be feral?”

He just looked at her and pressed his lips together. 

“But the other ones, they… they didn’t lose consciousness. They were… very awake when they…”

“Well, everyone’s different, sweetheart…” The Ghoul said. “Not everyone turns in the same way. And truth be told, I’ve never gotten that far. To where I lost consciousness, I mean. So I donno what would happen when I woke up. But that’s not a risk you wanna take, darlin’.” His tone was very serious and strangely soft. He was starting to sound like a mentor. Like the tone she would take with her students back home. “So if that happens, you either better shoot me or run as fuckin’ far away as you can, as fast as you can. Because if I do go feral, I will kill you.” 

Lucy blinked again, looked away in thought, then back. “Well… isn’t that a good reason for me to know your name...? Those other ghouls, they were… saying their names over and over again. Don’t you think it’d be good for me to know it? In case you do start going feral? So I can help, you know… remind you…”

He shook his head and scoffed. “That don’t help nobody… It’s all just sentimental bullshit... Nice try though.”

Lucy thought for a moment about her mother. She swallowed hard, then went back to the lock. “So… is it... Nate?”

“Sweetheart, if you don’t stop askin' me I swear I’m gonna…”

Suddenly, there was a click and the box popped open. “Ha!” She exclaimed in triumph. 

“Huh…” The Ghoul said, almost sounding surprised, before he strolled over to her. 

Lucy opened up the lid and looked inside, where there were several boxes of ammo, a couple stimpacks, and some rad-away. 

The bounty hunter leaned over her as she pulled out their prizes. “Well… nice job, Vaulty.”

After some time, The Ghoul decided they'd done enough scavenging. The vault was huge - as all vaults were - and they didn’t end up getting through the whole thing. But he seemed happy with what they found. Which, aside from what was in the locked box, included food, cigarettes, a bottle of whiskey, and a few other medicinals. As they headed back to the entrance, Lucy eyed something they’d passed before. It was a Mr. Handy. Broken, but it still had its fusion core. Which meant there’s a chance it could still be operational.

“Hey, Asshole.” Lucy called out ahead to him.

The Ghoul looked over his shoulder, then flashed her a smirk before he turned and started walking towards her. “You say my name?”

She smirked back. “Sure did… Come look at this.”

The old bounty hunter immediately frowned when he realized what she was pointing at. “The robot?”

“Do you think we could use it?”

“What the hell for?” 

“Well, I donno. Might come in handy .” She pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh, then looked up at The Ghoul to see if he got the joke.

Slowly, he turned to look at her with nothing but a blank stare. 

“Ha…” Lucy let out a brief laugh, then bit her lip and looked away awkwardly. 

The old bounty hunter kept his eyes on her a moment, then blinked and slowly shifted them back over to the robot, shaking his head a little. “Well, I hate to tell you this, Ms. Handy MacLean. But Bartholomew here appears to be kinda fuckin’ broken.” 

“That is true. But. I’m pretty sure I can fix him.”

“Well, if you want a little robot friend, you go right on ahead. I ain’t gonna stop ya.” He turned and started back down the hallway again. 

She shrugged and was about to follow when Dogmeat started to growl at something in the darkness behind them. An unsettling sound emitted from down the hallway. A low, gurgling, but almost human sounding groan. And it sounded like it was coming from something that was much… much bigger.

Lucy froze in fear, then watched as The Ghoul turned around and his eyes got wide. 

“Lucy! Get down!” He shouted and she dove for the floor as something lashed out above her, just missing her. Dogmeat barked frantically as The Ghoul pulled out his gun and started firing. She heard the gush of spilling blood and torn flesh and the creature screamed out in pain. 

In a panic, Lucy started crawling towards the Ghoul. After getting a few feet away, she flipped onto her back, grabbed her gun and started firing as well. After getting in a few shots, her eyes got wide with horror as she absorbed what she was looking at.

It looked like a giant humanoid mutant. But instead of having arms attached to its shoulders, it crawled on six below the waist, attached to a lower body that looked like the thorax of an insect, but made of human flesh. There were bones stick out from its shoulders where the arms should be, and around its stomach. It was grotesque, covered in tumors and pustules. And it had three long tentacles protruding from its mouth. Just the look of it made every hair on her body stand up on end.

Lucy began to scream as she continued to fire. Then, suddenly, one of the tentacles lashed out, wrapped itself around her angle and started dragging her across the floor.

“Shit!” The Ghoul exclaimed and ran towards her, dropping his pack on the ground. Dogmeat barked and gnawed at one of the monster's six arm-legs, but it didn’t seem to phase it. 

The former vault dweller kept firing until she ran out of bullets, and so did The Ghoul. But the thing was so huge it was almost just absorbing their fire. The bounty hunter grabbed his knife and jumped between Lucy and the beast, sawing and hacking at the tentacle that had a hold of her. Once he had her freed, the creature screamed out in pain, then threw its other two tentacles around The Ghoul’s face, knocking off his hat and pulling him in.

“Arrgh–!!! Mmmph!” His shout was muffled as he struggled against the mutant.

“Asshole!!” Lucy called out the only name she had for him. 

The horrifying monster was strong and pulled the bounty hunter towards it with ease, engulfing his head in its slimy, wiggling grip. Dogmeat barked and growled fiercely, tearing and gnashing at the beast flesh. Lucy fumbled to get more ammo in her gun, fearing this would be the end for her companion if she didn’t free him as soon as possible. 

With a growl, The Ghoul took the knife and started stabbing the beast in the face, over and over. Again, the creature howled in pain, but didn’t relent. Dogmeat cried out as one of the six legs got in a forceful kick, throwing her back against a wall. 

But then Lucy remembered something... 

She had a grenade.

Quickly, she reached in her pack and pulled out the explosive. Then jumped up and, after considering her options for a moment, ran around to the back end of the creature. She hesitated just briefly, then shoved that grenade right up its ass. 

Trying to ignore the shit and slime now covering her arm, she bolted back towards the front and took cover.

A moment later, the thorax of the beast exploded into a horrifying slush of red, green, brown and yellowish mush and chunky body parts. The front end let out one last gurgling death groan before finally dropping her ghoul companion and slumping to the floor.

“Gahhh…” The Ghoul growled as he picked himself up and started wiping the mucus off his face. “Motherfucker...” He cursed and spat. “Fucking centaurs.”

“What the hell was that thing!?” Lucy blurted out, still shaking as she stood up from where she had been crouching. 

“Goddamn mutant.” He said simply. “Just like them gulpers. Only uglier.”

Lucy stepped up next to him, looking down at the freakish monster in horror, but also relief.

The Ghoul searched around for his hat, then quickly retrieved it and put it back on. 

In a bit of a daze, the former vault dweller looked up at him. “You... saved my life.”

"Yeah. And you blew up its ass and saved mine.” He glanced back at her as he spoke, almost sounding appreciative, then sneered in disgust as he tried to wipe off the muck and slop that had splattered all over him. “You alright?” 

She nodded, still shaking.

He looked past her and spotted Dogmeat, then quickly stepped over to the canine and kneeled down. “Damn… son of a bitch got you too, huh?” 

Dogmeat whined as she limped closer to him, holding one of her back legs up. The Ghoul scratched her cheeks and behind her ears. “It’s alright… you’ll be alright…” 

Lucy blinked as she watched him, surprised that he seemed so concerned about the dog. 

“Hey… what time does that pip-boy a yers say it is?”

Lucy looked down to check. “It’s… almost seven.”

He stood up and exhaled, then nodded. “Might be best if we stay here tonight.”

“What? Here?? ” The former vault dweller said in disbelief. “After that? What if there’s more of those... things!?"

“Eh… if there were more, they’da already come runnin’.” 

“How can you be so sure?”

He looked over at her and tilted his head, appearing a little annoyed. “I’ve been out here a long time, sweetheart. Trust me." He reminded her, then retrieved his gun from the floor and put it back in it's holster. "But if it'll make ya feel betta... I'll do a clean sweep after we find a safe spot fer you two...” 

She blinked, then looked away, letting out a little huff. “...Okay… Fair enough.” 

“It’s always safer to stay the night indoors, if you can…" He said as he grabbed his pack off the ground and slung it over his shoulder. "Besides, Dogmeat’s gotta rest her leg.” 

“Can’t we just give her a stimpack?” 

“That’s anotha lesson you gotta learn, darlin'... Don’t waste yo stimpacks on minor injuries that can heal on they own... Ya never know when you might have a real emergency.” He turned towards the pup and she whined as he slung her over his shoulder as well. “Come on. We’ll hold up in one a them units. There’s bound to be one that ain't got somethin’ dead in it.”

To be continued…

<< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >>

#ghoulcy #vaultghoul #lucy x the ghoul #cooper x lucy #lucy x cooper #cooper howard x lucy maclean #cooper howard #fallout #the ghoul #lucy maclean #my posts #my fanfiction #ghouly-boi

[aerowolf]

How Medic Had VHS Tapes Before They Were Allegedly Invented

Emesis Blue, the psychological horror film based off of the hit first-person shooter game, Team Fortress 2, created by the studio Valve, is by all accounts an odd and unexpected masterpiece of film. Though most are set on explaining various time loops and the ending, I am not. Regardless of the fact that I understood neither of those things, I have arrived with a theory of my own. Because I have spiralled into a chaotic mode of over-analysis, specifically over a scene which is, at best, five seconds long. Should you choose to follow me and indulge in my delusions, I can guarantee you that I have something that may not interest you, but is long and heavily interests me.

PART I: WHY AM I LIKE THIS?

I’m literally neurodivergent and a minor. I have no answers for you. Moving on.

PART II: HOW COULD MEDIC HAVE VHS BEFORE IT EXISTED?

The point of this over analytical essay is to discuss why the Medic, also known as Doctor Fritz Ludwig, would have access to VHS tapes in a time when they did not in fact exist at all. The film is set on halloween--October 31, 1968. VHS tapes were not widely available to the public until 1976, and it is said that the development of VHS began sometime in 1969. Neither of these facts account for Medic’s possession of them. So where did he get them from?

We can begin by breaking down what they are and who made them.

These two images clearly display some of the VHS tapes which fell out of the box during the first couple of scenes of Emesis Blue. They are labelled “das grinsende gesicht” and “der könig in gelb.” These translate to “The Grinning Face” and “The King in Yellow,” both of which are pieces of media. The former is a silent German horror film released in 1929, and the latter appears to be the German translation of the title of a collection of short stories written by Robert W. Chambers. The title is also the title of a play within the collection which is said to drive anyone who reads it mad. However, the latter was never made into film. This information, while interesting, is not really important to my theory. But now you know. There’s symbolism to it of course.

Now, these tapes are clearly marked with the Mann Co. logo. This infers that they are produced and distributed by Mann Co. Considering their involvement in covert operations, projects, and their possible or perhaps even outright government connections, it is possible that Mann Co. invented or at least had production access to VHS before anyone knew about it. Perhaps they had a reason for holding them back? The box in his office is full, but it is not the

largest collection it could be, and it appears to be a mix of both legitimate or pseudo-legitimate films and personal or corporate videos. Considering the fact that VHS tapes are only seen in Ludwig’s possession, and that they contain the Mann Co. logo, it is safe to assume that they are produced by Mann Co. and solely distributed to those employed by them.

This offers a simple explanation as to why Medic has them before they should have existed. Mann Co. is not known for their transparency, often keeping things secret, even things that would objectively change the world. However, this does not offer an explanation as to what happened that led to the public release of VHS afterwards. So this brings us to our next section….

PART III: HOW AND WHY DID VHS BECOME WIDESPREAD?

It is said that production and development of the VHS began in 1969. Over the course of Emesis Blue, the Mann brothers, Redmon and Blutarch, are murdered. This occurs sometime in early November 1968--likely specifically November 3, as the agent who debriefs Soldier at the end of Emesis Blue--Agent Stemmons--mentions to him that the funeral of Governor Archibald is on Sunday. Assuming that this debriefing takes place directly after the events of halloween 1968, which fell on a Thursday, that leaves November 3 as the most likely date.

Seeing as the Mann brothers are now dead, and as there is no mention of Gray Mann interfering with the rest of this plot, it’s possible that Mann Co. is now disbanded, leaving them no means by which to distribute this technology. It’s then highly possible that the sole survivor of the Conagher slaughterhouse, Soldier, also known as Jane Doe, is the one who brought VHS to the world. While it is also possible that Gray could have done it, we’ll assume he doesn’t even exist in this universe, as his role is noncritical to it,

Here is how Jane could have single handedly brought VHS to the rest of the world.

Scarred by the events of October 31, 1968, he decided that the VHS tapes invented by Mann Co were actually a useful invention, and that the public should have access to them. After the death of the Mann brothers he tried to spread them and rebrand them, but quickly learned that they had some form of mind control within. This led to him bringing some of the tapes to a group who could disable this feature. However, that in turn led to them having to be completely redesigned, as the manipulation was ingrained too deeply into their design, which hence explains the delay of them being released widespread. VHS was first publicly released in Japan in 1976, which also points to the group Jane went to being Japanese. Shortly after, in 1977, VHS was also released in the United States.

And that is the story of how Team Fortress 2’s Soldier single handedly caused the public release of the VHS technology across the world.

#emesis blue #film theory #theories #tf2 #soldier tf2 #tf2 soldier #ivy speaks #I'm delusional btw #team fortress two #team fortress 2

[professorspork]

I hope this doesn’t come across as like a pushy “update pls” I promise that’s not how I mean it. I’m curious at what point you feel like a multi-chapter fic is ready to post? Do you write it in its entirety and then edit chapters in between updates, write and edit it in its entirety, write most of it and continue writing the rest between updates? I’m very curious about your process since you’ve been writing some monster word count fics

I really appreciate you asking!

The short version is that I've learned over time that what works best for me is completing a work in its entirety before I start posting; above all I like posting on a reliable schedule for my audience, and I simply do not write quickly enough (or coherently enough) to do that any other way. There are a lot of reasons for that and I WILL ELABORATE ON THEM AT LENGTH:

I have several multi-chapter WIPs from the Glee days-- when I was in college-- that I never finished because I'm a delicate hothouse flower when it comes to maintaining hyperfocus, and I found a new fandom to be in before I could complete them. Back then especially, I was much less disciplined about writing sequentially: I would write parts of the story wildly out of order, focusing on whatever interested me most at the time. That means my hard drive is a graveyard of unpublished content, which sucks-- not only did I never give my audience the resolutions they were looking for, but I never got to receive feedback on parts of the story I was really proud of. I found that really dispiriting.

Going to grad school for screenwriting really helped me focus on telling a story in order, because there is literally no other way to write a screenplay than one scene at a time; it's far too reliant on momentum and consistency to jump ahead to "the good bits" and come back. I also did several projects-- writing my multi-chap Frozen&Tangled polyamory epic for a friend's birthday; pre-writing all my 2015 Cartinelli Week one shots far in advance so I knew they'd be perfect come posting day-- where I had a deadline I wanted everything Done By, which got me in the habit of writing to completion before posting. It wasn't something I thought I was going to be capable of because I'm like Tinkerbell, Finn, I need applause to live feedback is incredibly motivating to me, but having the ability to go back and change things in chapter 2 if I realized they weren't adequately setting up what I wanted to do in chapter 5, or whatever, proved to be just as powerful a motivator in a different way-- it meant I could tell the stories RIGHT, if I took my time with them. I also learned to get at least one cheerleader I could leak snippets to as I went, so that I still got the dopamine hit of the feedback even though I'm ages away from posting for real.

I also found that, as a reader, I always really appreciated when authors could stick to an update schedule so I could look forward to new chapters like I would episodes of television. It's not a standard I expect from anyone, but it is something that makes me really happy-- and the two ways to do it are to either write fast enough that you're just constantly churning out new content (not an option for me, especially on the occasions when I'm actually employed and can only write on weekends) or to pre-write and then slow release. it gives me a feeling of... mastery, I guess? Like "hey everyone here's a gift I'm giving you," as opposed to writing and updating when I can, which makes me feel like I'm always chasing something (BEING chased by something?) and risking losing my audience/my own fickle concentration if I were to wait too long.

My "ONLY post after everything is done" rule is a new one, because I burned myself on rely on certain certainties, the last D/s epic I wrote (lmao can you tell this topic interests me). I worked on that for a year and was 132k in with no end in sight when I started posting, but I was part of a Kristanna discord at the time, and I wanted to seize the audience I had before it disappeared-- which is always the danger of movie fandoms, which never have as much staying power. I had hoped that because I had such a big buffer I could keep writing ahead of the updates as they came up from behind, but I tapped out at 172k when I finished the end of an arc. That kills me, because I have SO MUCH unreleased content for that story which will never see the light of day, because-- again-- I'd let temptation win and wrote ahead to The Juicy Bits instead of forcing myself to go in order.

So, two things I've learned:

Only ever outlining the juicy bits that come late in the game, instead of lovingly finessing their every word, is a great way to trick motivate myself into continuing to write in order so that I can GET to the juicy bits, full stop; if I don't exorcise them they keep haunting me and that helps me stick it out until the end

By holding stories back until they're complete, I give myself the ability to complete them because I'm able to dig myself out of holes I've written myself into. In the old days, if I got stuck because I realized the real root of my issue had come chapters earlier and that's why it's not working now, I'd just... be stuck at that wall, unable to move forward, and that would be that. The idea of going back and editing a published story for narrative content is mortifying to me and something I personally could never do, so-- this way I'm giving myself more tools and options, so that I can tell the story I want to tell and tell it right.

In terms of my actual process, I tend to work like this: my most productive time is when my ADHD meds are at full power, so in an ideal world I am writing new content from like 10am to 3pm or so, getting as far as I can in New Content. Evenings, when I'm no longer in Hyperfocus Productivity Mode, I'll go back and reread things-- sometimes chapters from much earlier-- both to entertain myself and to make edits and changes. Often, that's just moving words around here and there for cadence and flow; rarely, it's adding whole new moments or thoughts to the chapters. I try to write In Order as much as possible, getting chapters beta'd as they're completed. I'm a nitpicky perfectionist, so keeping a hold on my early chapters until everything is posted means I can change them over and over and over again without anyone knowing but me, which I love-- and those changes are getting made right down to the wire. even when the fic is "complete" and I'm "only posting" I'm still making edits; some of people's absolute favorite parts of Newsbees were added literally the night before, when it was the "get everything into AO3 and do the final pass for typos and formatting" stage. Like, Penny writing sudokus on the fly for Ruby at the hospital? Ruby thinking in Adam Font? Those were 11th hour strokes of genius.

So yeah-- that's a very long-winded way of saying that I've found writing to completion first not only makes me more likely to actually finish my WIPs, but it makes my WIPs BETTER because it gives me far, far more time with them. I know it's not something that works for everyone, but in terms of my own sense of like, duty and responsibility and goal-setting, it keeps me on track without risking Guilt completely paralyzing me-- which is what happens when I post as I go and then get interrupted.

THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY RAMBLE.

#on writing

[sawyerconfort]

hello!! I was wondering if u could do a Madison Montgomery x fem!reader with prompts 45 and 47? Basically Madison is jealous that reader has been spending a lot of time with Zoe and it really hurts Madison because she’s never been in a secure relationship before.

MADISON!!!!!

Well, let's do it then!

By the way, this is a good example of a request to say that it's okay if the dialogue you requested for has already been released here. I don't mind writing repeated plots, I find it even more fun to show the divergences from one character to another.

So feel free to ask.

You can check out my list of prompts here!

Enjoy!

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

45. "who's jealous?" 47. you're so jealous." | madison montgomery x reader

Madison was about to collapse. You were much more aware of the words and beauty of the new girl, Zoe Benson, than you were of her. Basically, Madison knew she had a crush on you the first time she was at the Academy, but it's not like she could handle that information properly.

It wasn't like her, being in love with someone for real, cultivating feelings and projecting her ideals for the future. She was always a bad girl, a preppy, lonely girl who didn't need anyone. Then you just showed up, both feet in the door, and ended it all.

And now, all you had eyes for was Zoe Benson.

She hadn't expected to have to bring this up so soon with anyone, not even Cordelia, who was the headmistress and had too kind a heart to understand her girls. But when you walked into the room you shared with a grin from ear to ear, Madison let out a huff of air.

"What is it?" you asked, frowning. "What bug bit you this time?"

"It's nothing," she assured, in a deep voice. "And you, what are you doing here at this hour? I thought you were still holed up in the room with Zoe."

You looked at her and cocked your head to the side in confusion.

"Does that bother you?"

"No. Why should I care? It's your life, isn't it? Why should I care about something you do when I have nothing to do with it? What nonsense!"

You had to contain your crooked smile.

"Zoe's with Kyle," you explained. "They're going to be together all night now and I don't feel like hearing moaning across the room."

Madison nodded, lifting her small mirror to apply red lipstick to her lips, clearly ignoring you. You were still smiling, looking at her in disbelief, when it dawned on you and things became clear.

"Damn, you're so jealous…", you told her, laughing. "Damn it, Madison, I can't believe it! Are you jealous of me?"

"Who's jealous?", she asked, in the most uninformed tone possible, showing off her good acting. Or almost good. "Are you crazy, (Y\N)?"

You shrugged. "I'm pretty sure not. You're jealous of me because I'm spending more time with Zoe than you and apparently there's something about it that makes you cross, isn't it?"

Madison turned to you, lipstick halfway across her mouth, paler than if she'd powdered her face.

"You're totally out of your mind," she rolled her eyes.

"No gaslighting, please…", you laughed and sat down behind her, leaning your back against her back so as not to disturb her. "You can admit that you're jealous of me, okay? It doesn't make you any less strong, in fact, it makes you even cuter, if that's possible. And what's more, you know we're best friends and that, if there's anything else going on between us, I would never leave you for someone else, Madison. I've told you that many times, haven't I?"

She looked shocked.

"That's it. You're scared to admit that you love me and that you felt jealous because there was never someone who took it easy, or there was someone who let you be free to be and do whatever you want. That's it."

Madison was still looking at you, now from the corner, from the distance you were, when you simply turned and gave her a peck on the lips, catching her by surprise.

"That's enough being a queen bee with me, okay? It doesn't work anymore," you whispered as you walked away. "And you know what? You're so much prettier than Zoe Benson. Does that make you happier?"

Madison saw you get out of bed and saw you leave the room, but she was so caught up in her thoughts that she just didn't even notice you were away and said, out loud:

"You mean you have feelings for me too?"

You chuckled down the hall and used your powers to conjure a pen and paper. You wrote: "Why? Do you have feelings for me?" and threw it to the door, simply. "Cute!" she heard you yell, even louder, as you walked out of the hallway, and she rolled her eyes.

This was sure to be a topic for weeks to come...

#lgbt #romance #imagine #oneshot #fluff #ahs #american horror story #ahs x reader #madison montgomery x reader #madison montgomery #emma roberts #emma roberts x reader #this is too short sorry anon #but it's cute anyway #just like your request #please send me more requests

[pommunist]

I really appreciate coming to your blog, to be honest for me its like a healing balm after even just skimming and scrolling others feelings on all of this. I feel like sometimes people are so unreasonable and it hurts to see people "taking sides" at all with this situation.

All Ive ever cared about with this issue is the facts. The fact that a lot of workers got screwed over and instead of buckling down and talking to people QStudios would rather it all just stop happening, make changes and not acknowledge what they did. Honestly they dont have to say anything that even takes blame for it! All anyone was asking for at first was a goddamn DM man. Like they didnt even care if they got fired they just wanted a message SAYING that. But somehow they "cant talk about it" otherwise they would be "complicate" as if they were expecting people to sue them before anyone was even suggesting that?

Everyone is acting like legality is so important as if the people who first stepped up about all of this were instigating lawsuits when thats only happening NOW because they refused to say anything! Its like...why did they have to be "careful with what they say for legal reasons" when no one was threating to sue them. Almost as if they KNEW what they were doing was considered illegal and DID have grounds for legal recourse. If not then why not make ANY statement? Why be so scared to say anything at the beginning? It just dosnt make any sense. I mean even the Union was like "we dont wanna sue you just talk to your workers" at first!

It just feels a bit like a lot of this is being blown out of proportion and considering in his last stream Q ONLY talked about himself getting doxed (not saying that Q is "over reacting" from getting doxed by the way, of course, but rather the community seems to want to use this as a reason to exempt him from any wrong doing), the Brazilians (which by the way the fact that it took ALL OF THIS SHIT for him to BARLY EVEN mention the xenophobia is just….wild ill say), and that hes not gonna be the CEO anymore and like….okay cool dude not what anyone wanted a stream from you about but like pop off I guess. It just feels like every stream hes done about this situation never clears up anything and gives vague promises that dont seem to be held or at the very least is giving us basically no info and just promises.

Amen to all of that anon ! Like everyone (including myself i’ll admit) is saying how it’s difficult to speak about these things because it could lead to legal consequences but also… You want to avoid a lawsuit ? You truly have a desire to make things right ? Then go talk to your workers. Give them the answers they’ve been waiting for. Listen to their experience, listen to their demands, listen to what they want from you. Release a statement with full excuses on the behalf of the whole company to them, thank them for what they did. Pay them the fair compensation you owe them for the months of labour they did for your project. Demand that your community and everyone else leave them be in peace, and condemn everyone who doesn’t.

Like sure, that may need you to admit that you did wrong which could be used against you in court but lets be for real. Lawsuits are stressful, can cost money and are time consuming, so who, especially young people without a lot of money and ressources to their disposal, is going to want to go through that whole legal process after getting everything they wanted and deserved from you ?

This isn’t talking about the Q vs the higher ups who refused to pay the admins and mistreated them btw thats a whole different legal affairs but still then, wouldn’t ex admins have be able to provide you screenshots of payments and conversations that you could then use in your favour in court ?

Also my blog where all I talk about is workers exploitation is like a healing balm to you anon ? You sure you’re okay ? /j ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

#qadmins situation

[mortispoxi]

https://videogames.si.com/news/disco-elysium-dev-zaum-layoffs

Today it was announced that Studio ZA/UM's upper management has not only decided to let a third of its employees go but has subsequently canceled the majority of the projects the studio had been working on and let me tell you I… am not the least bit surprised and find the whole thing rather ironic. (rant incoming)

First and foremost, before anyone tries to twist my words I am not celebrating people losing their jobs, especially now that the UK is in a recession. No, what I am highlighting is the irony of it all. These employees, some of whom if you recall argued with fans that Robert Kurvitz's dismissal was all his fault and we were buying into the auteur theory for the last two years, are finding out they were not the exception after all and that upper management can and will do the same thing they did to Kurvitz and co once they've outlived their usefulness. We all knew this was going to happen sooner rather than later but it’s still devastating to know that so many people are going to be affected by the greed of these conmen. The other shoe has finally dropped, and these are the unfortunate repercussions.

Kompus's decision to lay off a third of the employees, some of which have been part of the studio since its inception, does not come as a surprise to anyone who has been paying attention. It's been more than obvious that it was a matter of time before they would drop the façade of a caring boss to reveal their true nature. These employees running to the press crying about their future redundancy is acknowledging a truth those looking in from the outside always knew; the investors are slowly squeezing the life out of the company and no one, not even the founding members of ZA/UM, are safe from being snuffed out by these money grabbing conmen because nothing is sacred to them. This goes beyond just another game studio letting swaths of developers go over the past year and a half because a) at the time of me writing this the studio has not released another game so firing everyone on project X7 seems a bit overkill when you can potentially transfer them to one of the two projects they’re confirmed to still be working on especially when the company is already so small, and b) this is a well-established pattern of morally bankrupt behaviors the investors engage in whenever they encounter anyone who will interfere with maximizing their gross income.

The irony of it all is that these people are now turning around and finally crying mismanagement when Kurvitz had warned them, even before he got fired (and multiple times after), that yes, the investor’s mismanagement is the reason things fell apart so quickly and only now are they seeing he had been right all along. If they truly believed the same wouldn't eventually befall them like it had with their former coworkers, then I'm sorry but that one’s on them to reconcile with. There is no reason for anyone to still be defending the studio at this point since, again, it's pretty clear the investors did this to maintain control over money rather than their excuse that they care about the well-being of their employees. It doesn't exactly take a brainiac to realize the investors have been lying this entire time about the reason why the studio has such a toxic work environment when the guy they accused of being the source of the toxicity has been gone for 3 years and yet the studio’s environment remains the same, ya know? The investors don't care, they never cared, and this is just the consequence of believing that they ever cared to begin with catching up to these people.

Robert Kurvitz was right, continues to be right, and will always be right about how scummy the investors are, and the sooner people acknowledge this the sooner it’ll take to put the IP rights back in the hands of its rightful owner.  

#disco elysium #studio za/um #za/um #robert kurvitz #rant post #mp

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Find the word

Thanks @aziz-reads for the tag!

Rules: find the words given in your WIPs, then tag people with more words!

My words: frame, vain, stake, fix

Your words: refuse, beam, own, product

Softly tagging with no pressure @mk-writes-stuff @sleepywriter00 @nailamoonsi @somethingclevermahogony @eccaiia @bread-roses-and-chrome @gottestod-writes + anyone else

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

Keep reading for:

Rose's home life (CW: neglectful parent)

Akash is happy Gwen pissed Carmen off

Robbie and Lexi meet

Debate about screen brightness

Frame - The Secret Portal Part One (Rose POV)

I let out a high-pitched grunt of annoyance before stomping off to my room. A part of me knew she was right. I should’ve brought my keys as a backup plan. She wasn't reliable anyway. As I opened the door to my room, I glanced back at my mother as she sat back on the couch, watching the telenovela that was playing. I turned away, slamming the door to my room behind me, hoping my mother would tell me I wasn't allowed to do that. But there was no correction. I tossed my backpack to the side harshly. It slammed into the wall and knocked a picture frame down to the floor. I bent down and picked quickly hung it back up so I wouldn’t have to look at my three-month-old self in my mom’s smiling arms as my smiling dad had his arm wrapped around her. My room was the only splash of color in this house—the only part of my house that deserved to be called home. My art supplies got their own shelf and were organized the way I want. My projects I kept in my sketchbook, which I never showed my mom. She didn’t like the way I decorated my room or any of my designs. She loved to tell me I needed to apply myself to school as much as my art. But even if I did apply myself more in school, she wouldn’t notice. I collapsed onto my bed and screamed into the pillow, then lay there for a couple of minutes, taking in the scent.

Vain Cocky (closest synonym) - from The Secret Portal Part One (Gwen POV)

I’d overheard Dr. Moon say something about “powers,” so maybe that’s what he meant. It sounded strange, but Akash was floating. Dr. Moon said that I could be showing “several” abilities, so that was weird, too. Did I have a power? Context alone indicated that. They didn’t see me…. My mind spun, so I looked back at Akash as I followed him down the next hall. At first, I thought he was being cocky and showing off his strange, supernatural ability, but that demeanor seemed only a façade—nothing more. Maybe flying was simply that fun. Or maybe I was distracted because he was cute, but I didn’t think I was that shallow. “So, Gwen,” Akash said, turning around to fly backward. “Where’re you from?” “Clear Lake City,” I said. “Texas.” Akash smiled. “Southlake. Up near Dallas. How cool is it we’re both from Texas?” I stared at him. “You’re not from here?” I didn’t exactly know where here was, but all the same, I could figure I wasn’t in Texas anymore. Akash stopped mid-flight, causing me to abruptly halt. “No. Dr. Moon and Dr. Asghar only take Alii from our side. Ceteri. That’s what they call it.” He raised his eyebrow. “Didn’t they tell you?” “No. They kidnapped us and locked us in this purple-glowing-thing. The dampener? Is that what you said?” Akash nodded. “What did they do?” Akash rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s how they got me and my buddy, Robbie. They’re actually okay once you get to know them. Questionable methods, but their hearts, I know how it sounds, are in the right place. Hey, what powers do you have?” “Powers?” I repeated. My thought was right. “Yeah,” said Akash. “You’re Alii, aren’t you?” “I have no idea what you’re saying,” I admitted. “What does Alii mean? One of the doctors mentioned that. Is it Latin?” Akash scrunched his eyebrows. “You don’t know? Dr. Asghar never releases anyone unless they’ve been briefed.” “Oh, I, uh, sorta escaped,” I stuttered. Akash stared at me. “You got away from them?” I nodded, and to my surprise, Akash laughed, clapping his hands together. “I knew someone would do it one day! Dr. Asghar must be pissed!”

(Mi)Stake - from The Secret Portal Part One (Lexi POV)

I grunted as a sudden force ran into me, knocking me to the ground. I yelped and scrambled out from underneath the person and clambered to my feet, trembling from the unexpected touch. “Am I that repulsive to you?” a teasing voice said. I turned to look at the person who ran into me: a teenage boy a year or so older than me. It took me a second to collect myself. “No,” I said as he stood. “It just… freaked me out.” The boy was about average height for his age and had a slim, but fit, frame. He had thick dark hair framing his face and big, dark eyes framed by wire-thin glasses. His hair was cut relatively short, but his bangs were somewhat long—parted on the right. He laughed. “Freaked me out, too.” He crossed his arms. “So… are you one of Gwen’s friends?” “You know Gwen?” I asked, standing in surprise. “What is she doing here?” “Sorta, I met her an hour… and maybe a half ago, I dunno what time it is—-passed out due to,” he gestured to the charred walls, “the explosion.” “Wait, are you Robert Stafford?” “No, actually, I’m Stobert Rafford—common mistake.” I blinked. The boy kept eye contact with a straight face. His mouth twitched. The delay stopped as I cachinnated—that was a fun word. The boy joined in. “Sorry, that was stupid.” “No, no, it wasn't,” I said as I tried to compose myself. “Yeah, it was, I’m laughing at my own joke.” “Okay, fine, it was stupid, but that’s why it was funny.” He smiled, dark eyes shining. “Finally, someone gets it!”

Fix - from The Secret Portal Part One (Akash POV)

SORARA’s voice announced the Recruits entering the door, and I instinctively fixed my cap to make sure it was on correctly. “—way too bright,” Lexi was saying as she turned the corner into the living room. “You’ll melt your retinas.” “I need to be blinded by the screen,” Gwen was saying. “If I’m not, it’s too dark.” “I’m starting to see why you needed glasses.” Gwen laughed, and her eyes landed on mine, now slightly obscured by new rectangular black glasses. I instinctively raised my hand to rub it through my hair but it ended up hitting the hat instead, pushing it slightly back. I tried to fix it again. Of course, Gwen’s new fashion statement looks cute while I look like the biggest dork on the planet. She smiled at me. I raised my hand in greeting. “Robbie!” Lexi said, snapping me back. “Let me see your phone!” “Huh? Okay.” Robbie shifted to reach into his pocket to pull out his phone. He handed it to her but she shook her head. “Just turn it on and show me the screen.” Robbie did as told, causing Lexi to laugh triumphantly. “Ha! That’s not that bright, and he wears glasses.” Gwen shrugged.

#the secret portal #tsp #teaspoon #find the word #writing tag game #tsp excerpt #wip excerpt #my writing #rose hernandez #akash singh #gwen amante #robbie stafford #lexi morgan #writers on tumblr #writing community #writers of tumblr #writing on tumblr #writeblr #writeblr community