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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

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let me be your ruler.2

Warnings: guns, dubcon, noncon, handjob.

This is a dark! fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Pairing: (dark!mob!) Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You try to forget about Peter but he won’t forget about you.

Note: I hate that I am the way that I am. I wanted to keep this to two parts but you know me.

Anyways, I’m excited for this and hope you are too.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Drowsy in the afterglow of sex and alcohol, you fell quickly into a deep sleep. You didn’t even change before you sank into bed. You hardly recalled the elevator ride up or stumbling into your apartment and tripping around the shadows to your room. It was only a fractured journey from the car to your mattress.

You woke as your phone vibrated under your pillow. You must have buried it there before passing out. You groaned and rolled over as you dug it out. There were several notifications next to a single name; Peter. You thumbed through each message; written in the same tone as his voice. Demanding, without question.

‘Great night, Princess.’ ‘We’ll do it again Saturday.’ ‘Wear something nice.’ … The messages escalated smoothly from doting to commanding. It jolted you back to the night before, the way he seemed to just thrust you through the night. The dress, the drinks, the men, the guns…

You sat up, your panties crooked on your hips. You muttered and swiped away the messages. You weren’t seeing him again. You couldn’t. You had stuck your toe in too deep already. It was best to nip these things in the bud. Not to let yourself get dragged in so far you couldn’t see the surface.

Peter was more than mysterious; he was dangerous.

You went to the kitchen and waited for the machine to grind as the scent of coffee filled your heavy body. You drank too much, did too much. You still felt Peter’s hand between your legs. It made your chest tight and your head spin. You looked down at your body, the red dress wrinkled and askew.

You left the coffee to brew and retreated to your room. You tore off the dress and your panties. You pulled on a cotton shirt and loose pajama pants. You stormed back into the kitchen and shoved the clothing in the bin. You snatched your phone from the counter and swiped up the lock screen.

‘Sorry, I don’t think this is going to work out.’ You typed. Your hand shook as you hovered over send. You heard Halle’s door and you pressed your thumb down. You looked up at her before you pulled up the block option.

“How was your night?” She asked as she inhaled the aroma of your morning ritual.

“Eh, you know, another dead end,” you pushed your thumb down and the conversation disappeared. “Just not my type.”

“Really?” She whined. “He seemed so nice. And he liked you so much.”

You blackened your screen and placed your phone face down. “Well, you know, things don’t always turn out.” You shrugged and pulled out a mug, “You want some?”

“Are you at least going to tell me about it?” She pouted. “And yes, lots of sugar.”

You poured her coffee and handed her the sugar dish. You frowned at how much powder she scooped into her cup but it was her most endearing trait. She knew what she wanted and she didn’t care what anyone thought.

“Uh, well, it wasn’t anything special. He took me to a party but… I don’t know. What kind of first date is that? Take me somewhere I don’t know anyone…” You ran your finger around the rim of your cup. “Maybe when I was younger but now.”

“You sound like such an old lady,” she snickered, “Oh my god!” She stood straight, “Are we old?”

“I am, but you’ll always be young at heart, Hal,” you rolled your eyes.

“So you’re not going to try a second?” She prodded.

“I don’t think so,” you cradled your mug, “He… hasn’t even messaged me back.”

You hated lying but Halle had gotten you into this mess and you knew she’d harp on you for not even giving Peter a chance. But you had. He wasn’t what he seemed and you didn’t want to stick around and find out what exactly he was hiding.

“What?” She huffed. “Well, fuck him then.” She sipped from her coffee and her lips curved as she swallowed. “Wait, did you…”

“Hal, come on,” you snipped.

“Oh, fine, but you know, maybe if you got laid, you wouldn’t be so uptight.” She teased.

“Not this again,” you groaned and slid your phone off the counter. “You know what, I got work to do.”

“Uh huh,” she hummed as you turned to leave, “Work. When did you get so old and boring?”

“One of us had to,” you called back over your shoulder, “And we both know you’re never growing up.”

✨

Your phone was pleasantly still for the rest of the day. You felt a twinge of guilt having blocked Peter but then you recalled the men and their holsters. You found your mind drifting away from your work and your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you thought back.

The company he kept added to the uneasiness in your chest. Steve was friendly but arrogant. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, what was it he introduced you as, “Peter’s girl”. And that man, Bucky. He didn’t seem too fond of Peter but the way he’d grinned at you, as if he knew something you didn’t. Well, he did, they all did. Your head stormed as you tried to figure out their secret.

You shook off the curdling paranoia and hunched as you squinted closer at your computer. You made yourself focus as you skimmed the tight font and added your suggestions in the margin. You sent off your edited draft as your stomach groaned; empty and churning from the acidic coffee.

You grabbed your phone and your mug as you stood. You checked the time. Almost noon. You grumbled and went back to the kitchen, thankfully empty as Halle had left for work an hour ago. You set your cup down and expanded your notifications. A single phone call from a private number and a new follower on your mostly empty Insta.

You opened the neglected app and hit the notification. The profile was emptier than yours. the profile pic was just black and there were no posts. The name gave you no hints as it was obviously generated by the site.

You went back and a comment popped up on the picture of your and Halle at last year's winter market. ‘Gorgeous, Princess.’ You read and reread the two words as you leaned against the counter. You bit your fingertips and went back to the mysterious profile. You hit ‘block’ and locked your phone.

Surely, he’d get the hint sooner or later. It was one date and the man seemed to have no trouble with women. He’d move on and you’d both forget about that off putting night. You just had to wait him out.

✨

A week rolled by as you kept yourself busy with your work. The phone calls stopped after the first day and you had no more peculiar alerts awaiting you. Your plan had worked. It wasn’t exactly the best; it was a bit cowardly, actually. Yet, knowing how Peter was and how ‘no’ seemed beyond his vocabulary, you had more faith in your evasion than his understanding.

As the weekend approached, Halle convinced you to come out with the girls. You had eluded those opportunities for the past year as you found yourself disillusioned and disinterested in the club scene. You felt as if you were aging out of it and seeing all those fresh-faced coeds assured you of it. Even so, the girls liked to dance and in their words, you need to ‘let loose’.

You couldn’t disagree. You had been on edge and the mounting emails in your inbox didn’t ease the stress of everything else.

With a pre-drink burning a whole in your stomach, you pulled on a pair of flats as your bag hung across your chest. You were comfortable but not stuffy in your tight jeans and the bright pink top with the criss-cross straps. You felt pretty good and the vodka made you optimistic.

You headed down to the street and caught a cab. The dread evaporated the closer you got and as you pulled up to the front of the flashing club, Molly and Desiree waved at your approach. The four of you joined the line as you searched out your ID.

“So,” Molly said, “Halle told us about your little date!”

“Date?” You blinked. “Oh, yeah, that didn’t pan out.”

“Of course,” Desiree scoffed, “That guy was so cute though.”

“Yeah, he was nice, but we just didn’t…”

“He’s ghosting her!” Halle interjected, “Didn’t even text the next day, ugh.”

Halle crossed her arms and you nodded. You weren’t going to correct her, you didn’t need the other two piling on about your dormant love life. You came out to have a good time, that’s what they promised you, and you didn’t want to think about the night that still stood so vividly in your mind.

As you stepped up to the bouncer, he barely looked at your card. You were almost offended as he waved you through and carded the next party more closely. You glanced around at your friends but they hardly seemed bothered. Well, only Halle had reached that big three-o with you, and the other two girls still had a year or two to go.

Madonna’s voice pumped from the speakers as you neared the bar. You looked around at the streaming lights and the bodies shadowed in the strobe. You were surprised you recognized the song and you nudged Desiree as she waited for Molly to order the first round.

“What’s up with the music?” You asked.

“It’s retro night! Duh! Just for you!” She giggled and you elbowed her harder.

Molly turned and passed out the plastic cups with their thin straws and you followed Halle to the low stage where the smoke machine billowed. You coughed at the taste of the fog and sucked on your straw. You began to sway as the other girls led the charge. You could help but be enlivened by the deep base and the energy all around.

As you danced, the girls yelled back and forth about their recent drama. Desiree’s date had been more successful than your own, Molly was certain she was in love with Charlie? You still didn’t know. And Halle was just riding the vibe.

You finished your drink and the other girls stacked their cups in yours before you crossed the stage to leave the garbage on the table just beside the platform.

You looked over at the bar, pondering another, and your eye was caught by a figure who seemed out of place. The cut of his suit, the way he leaned on hand on a stool, and the intense gaze sent in your direction startled you.

You blinked and stumbled over to the single step down to the floor. You pushed through the bodies, nearly tumbling as a tipsy guy crashed into you. You got to the bar and looked up and down it. Girls waved their hands to get the bar tender’s attention and guys sidled up to them.

Bucky was gone. It was him. Maybe the air was filled with smoke and the lights were flashing like a siren, but you were certain. Why was he there? How had he found you among the city? Among the reverie in that club? Why had he been watching you? And where had he gone?

You went to where you’d seen him and searched the perimeter of the bar. You went back through the club and slipped past those just getting in. You tapped on the bouncer’s shoulder and he grumbled before he turned and bent to hear you. “What is it?”

“Did you see a guy in a suit leave? Dark hair and--”

“There’s a lot of people here,” he shrugged you off.

You snarled and turned back. You got ahead of the flood of new arrivals and fought your way back to the three girls on the stage. As you walked up, Halle pouted and grabbed your elbow. “Boo, we thought you were getting another round.”

“No, no, I…” you squirmed and tried to get back into the rhythm, “I had to use the restroom.”

“Well, how about now? Wanna refill the tank?” She jibed.

“Uh, sure,” you picked at the purse. “Be right back.”

“Make mine a double,” Molly called after you. “Thanks.”

✨

Despite drowning yourself in alcohol, you barely slept and when you did, you were back in the club, staring at a man you never expected to see again. You wondered if maybe you’d imagined it or if Peter had sent him after you or if it was someone else and you were just tipsy and blind. Whatever it was, you couldn’t shake the foreboding that followed you into the next morning.

Your Saturday was painful and lazy. You spent your hangover on the couch and barely saw Halle as she cowered in the dim light of her room. You fell asleep there and dragged yourself to bed just before nine. You really were old, or at least, getting there.

Sunday slapped you in the face after another night of disjointed dreams. Peter and the room full of men, Bucky at the bar, and static in between. Responsibility called you from your mattress and you cleaned up and dressed for your weekly trip to the grocery store.

As you came out, Halle was glaring at her phone. “What’s up?” You asked as you shoved your wallet in your purse. “You coming to the store?”

“I got called in for one.” She pouted. “Tell me why I fucked that asshole?”

“Shit, Hal, I’m sorry. Well, I’ll just do the shop myself.” You frowned, “Let you get ready to deal with all that.”

“It’s all because he fucking texted me on Friday and drunk me decided to reply and then… urgh, why do I do this?”

“I don’t know why you’re asking me?” You grinned.

“Oh, please go before I throw this at you,” she shook her phone, “And don’t forget my oat milk.”

“Whole milk?” You asked as you slipped your shoes on, “Got it.”

“Don’t,” she warned.

“Alright, alright. Hopefully I catch you before you go,” you stood and grabbed your keys from the hook. “Have fun with Mr. Bossman.”

“Shut up,” she buried her head in her hands, “Oh my god!”

You tried not to laugh as you left. You felt bad for her as you didn’t know what you’d do in her situation. Looking for a new job had been her first thought but the market was never very good and the man who was driving her away, wasn’t exactly a shining reference.

You took your usual route to the grocer. You had your list on your phone and loaded your cart. You filled the reusable bags and set off for a very inconvenient subway ride home. Your arms screamed as you carried the load up your street and struggled to find your keys at the door. The elevator was too slow and you ended up hauling it all up the stairs. You were out of breath as you got to your apartment.

You turned the knob just a little and kicked open the door. You stomped in and dropped the bags. “So, I got your damn milk--” You stopped short as your voice collided with Halle’s. She was already dressed for work but her braids were still loose. She stood behind the couch as she talked to your unexpected visitor.

“Oh, there she is,” she said snappily, “I wouldn’t blame her for kicking you out but I’ll leave it up to her.” Halle turned to you, “Look who’s here. Only took him a week to come around.”

“Hal,” you said softly as you set the bags down. “What--” You lowered your voice, “Why’d you let him in?”

“So he can apologize to you,” she huffed loudly and passed you to close the door, “Don’t you worry, I still gotta finish getting ready so you have lots of time to hear him out.” She looked at him sharply.

“Really, it’s…” You gulped as you peeked over at Peter. He sat calmly in the chair as he watched you. “Yeah, okay.”

She marched into her room and as her door closed, you reluctantly approached the back of the couch where your roommate had just stood. You stared at Peter, uncertain what to say. You hadn’t been prepared for this; for him to be there in your apartment, your home.

“Peter,” you ran your hands over the couch cushions.

“You lie to everyone you know?” He asked. “As I recall, I’m not the one who’s been… ‘ghosting’, as your friend says.”

“I…” You shifted and picked at the seam, “Look, I told you it wasn’t going to work--”

“You barely gave me a chance. Gave us a chance,” he said as he pushed his legs apart. “That’s hardly fair.”

“Well, you know, I have work and it’s just not a good time for me right now.” You sniffed. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, but--”

“Ha, princess, I don’t hurt so easy,” he smirked, “Why don’t you sit down and we can talk properly… finally.”

You scratched your brow and cleared your throat. “I don’t think we need to do that.”

Your voice trailed off as Halle opened her door again. She swept out and you waited as she scooped her purse off the counter and sidestepped the groceries still sat on the floor.

“Gotta go,” she sang, “I’ll see you after work.” She stopped by the door as she wiggled into her heels, “Let me know how you deal with… him.”

“See ya,” you said quietly and watched her go. You looked back at Peter slowly as he chuckled.

“What did you tell her about me?” He wondered.

“Nothing. Really.” You said. “I have your jacket. You want it back--”

“Sit,” he gestured to the couch. “We’ll worry about that later.”

“No. Peter, please. I’m just not interested, okay?”

“You seemed pretty interested in the car,” he purred, “Seemed real interested.”

“I…” You looked at the wall and squirmed. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“You were asking for it in that dress,” he intoned. “Now,” his movement drew your eye as he reached into his jacket, “I don’t like playing things like this.” He pulled the pistol from its holster and rested it on the arm of the chair, his hand firm on the handle. “Please, sit down. Let’s talk.”

You stared at the gun. Your blood burned hot and you felt blindly as you came around the couch and dropped down. Your eyes never left the muzzle. Would he use it on you?

“Oh, princess, don’t you worry, I’m just getting comfortable.” He taunted. “Now, I’ve been tryna figure out where I went wrong. I got you a pretty dress, I took you to a nice party, I fed you champagne, and I even gave you a little dessert,” he mused and his lip curled, “So I gotta confess I’m confused as you why you’ve been hiding from me.”

You were paralyzed. You clutched your knees and gritted your teeth. You didn’t know what to say. You’d convinced yourself that you’d never see him again. Your method was tried and trued, at least, when it was used against you.

“Don’t be afraid. You can tell me. I really would prefer the truth.” His finger slid along the short barrel as he spoke. “So?”

“I… Peter, I don’t think that we would, uh, work out. Look, I don’t like guns and…” Your lashes fluttered, “I don’t really know that I wanna be around someone who carries one. Not too mention, your friends--”

“My friends. Princess, your mine. They won’t touch you.” He raised his chin. “They’re not that bold.”

You were silent. Your heart pulsed loudly and you took a breath. You stood cautiously and crossed your arms. “Peter, we talked. I told you my reasons. I think you should… go.” You said as firmly as you could.

He laughed again. His cheek twitched and the smile fell away from his face. He rose slowly and turned his gun to tuck it away under his jacket. His eyes never left you as he did.

“You really want me to go?” He asked.

You nodded and held your breath. “Yes.”

He threw his hands out and clapped them against his pants. He shook his head and crossed the room. You turned to watch him as he passed and suddenly, you were thrust towards him. His hand was on the back of your neck as he pulled you against him. He held you tightly and you felt his gun poking through his jacket.

He grinned, his lips only an inch from yours. “I’m going, princess, but not without you.”

“Let go of me!” You struggled with him. “Get off!”

“Princess,” he warned as his fingers dug into your neck, “Settle down.”

“No, I told you to go.” You hissed as you grabbed his wrist. “Please.”

“Let’s get this straight,” he said, “You don’t tell me what to do. Even if it gets me hard.” He crushed his lips to your suddenly and you wrestled with him, your teeth grazing his lip before he pulled back sharply, barely escaping a bite. “You don’t wanna do that.”

His hand went to your chin and he looked you in the face. He rubbed his nose against yours and growled. You beat on his chest and he squeezed tighter.

“Shit, let’s not just rush out of here,” he released you, “You should get those away before they spoil.”

He stepped back and placed his hand on the front of his jacket, where his gun was hidden. You gaped at him and your eyes flitted to the door.

“Ah, don’t worry, we’ll be on our way soon enough,” he said, “So long as you hurry up.”

You swallowed and he moved with you as you went to the bags. He blocked the door as you pulled the straps apart and began to unpack shakily. You dropped a can and it rolled along the floor before he stopped it with his foot. He kicked it back and leaned an elbow on the door frame.

You picked it up with several other cans and went to the cupboard. You snapped the door closed as you felt around the drawer with your other hand. You heard a click and looked to Peter as he aimed his pistol at you. He tilted his head.

“Don’t do that,” he intoned as your hand lingered just inches from the knives inside the drawer.

You went back to the spread of groceries and tried to ignore him as you put everything in its place. As you bent to fill the crisper, he purred, a sizzly ‘princess’ under his breath. You finished up and packed the bags one into the other. You left them on the counter and again, he put his gun away.

“Princess, let me tell you something,” he gripped the door handle, “I don’t take that out without using it very often so don’t press my patience.” He turned the knob slowly, “I’ve waited on you long enough.”

✨

The car ride was tense and long. Peter drove you uptown and you watched out the window helplessly. You rubbed your palms together nervously as they dampened with sweat. He’d taken your phone when you reached for it. He tossed it and it was somewhere on the floor.

He drove past the condos and the walk-ups and continued on nearly the exact path he’d taken on the momentous night. Another grand house awaited you but you remained in the seat as Peter climbed out. He opened your door and still you didn’t move. He reached across you to unbuckle the seat belt and grabbed your arm. He jerked you out onto your feet and sighed.

“Peter,” you begged, “What’s going on? Please, you’re scaring me.”

“Princess, have I done you wrong?” He asked but you didn’t answer. “I won’t hurt you.”

“You’re hurting me right now,” you wriggled your arm and he shoved you ahead of him.

“In,” he demanded as you stumbled up the rounded steps. “Now.”

You opened the door and stepped inside. You crossed the marble floor of the foyer as he directed you from behind. He followed at a pace, close enough that you couldn’t flee. Even if you did, you wouldn’t make it far.

“Pete,” the voice startled you and you stopped at the bottom of the wide staircase. Bucky stood in a doorway to your left. His gaze moved from you to Peter and back again. “I didn’t realise you brought company.”

“You’re still here?” Peter snipped.

“Was I supposed to leave?” He sneered. “You got me and Steve running around and you’re gonna kick us to the curb.”

“You don’t look very busy to me,” Peter growled and neared to rest his hand on your lower back. He leaned in and whispered in your ear. “Upstairs, turn left, the room at the very end. I don’t like hide and seek, you got me?”

You nodded and looked at Bucky again. His mouth slanted knowingly and his tongue poked out for just a moment. You turned up the stairs and left Peter behind. You reached the top and listened for a moment to his muffled voice.

“You and Steve do your fucking job and leave me alone. Understand. I don’t want to be bothered.” Peter snarled.

“Oh, I wouldn’t wanna be interrupted either,” Bucky snickered. “Not with her.”

“Go,” Peter barked. “Now.”

“Ay, you might be Tony’s man but you still gotta watch yourself,” Bucky warned. “This little arrangement isn’t gonna last forever…”

You went to your left and to the door at the end, like he said. You entered and couldn’t help but gasp at the immense bedroom. The black and white decor was expertly matched in marbles and exotics woods, plush velvet and polished sconces. You couldn’t help but admire the luxury.

You didn’t close the door. You glanced around dumbly and stood in one spot as you feared you might break something. You wrung your hands as you heard the steady footsteps and you spun as Peter entered. He looked even more agitated as he cracked his knuckles.

“Sorry about that, Princess,” he said, “Now where were we?” His eyes roved the room as he thought, “Ah, yes, an apology.”

“Apology. I…”

“Should I close the door?” He raised a brow, “You’d be surprised how sound carries in here.”

You frowned and he laughed as he swung the door shut. He neared you and bit the tip of his tongue as he considered you. His brown eyes bore into you and you took a step back. He stayed near and caught your wrist. His other hand fumbled with his belt and he let out a slow breath through his nose.

“Princess, I’d love to treat you how you deserve but you gotta be good to me too.” He pulled on your arm and twisted as you tried to resist. You hissed and he pushed your hand against his crotch. “I don’t forgive easy but I’m sure you can change that.”

“Don’t... don’t make me do this,” you uttered.

“Oh, but princess, you did this,” he pressed your hand around his bulge. “You take care of me and I’ll do the same.”

You parted your lips to argue and he grabbed the back of your head. He kissed you roughly and guided your hand to the top of his boxers. He slid your fingers under the elastic and urged you on, wrapping your fingers around his dick with a groan.

He squeezed until you gripped him firmly. He led your hand up and down as he held you to him, his hot breath filling you as it picked up. He forced his tongue into your mouth and you clawed at his jacket as he kept your other hand around him. He parted from your mouth at last and pressed his cheek to yours.

“Keep going, princess,” he purred as he slowly withdrew his hand from around yours. “You don’t wanna use your hand, I might think of something else.”

You quivered and slid your hand up and down his length. He nuzzled your neck and nibbled as he moaned against your skin. You could only move your hand as you stood against him stunned and rigid. He gripped your waist as you felt him tense and he murmured hungrily.

“Oh, princess,” he breathed and pushed his pelvis against your hands as he came.

You felt the slick heat seep down your hand and slowed until he was breathless. He stilled your hand with his and carefully eased your hand from his pants. He stood straight and eyed your glistening fingers.

“Shit,” he swore as he caressed your cheek, “You made a mess of this suit.” He dropped his hand to the front of his pants as he smiled. He inhaled and pushed his shoulders back. “I forgive you, Princess.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #dark peter parker #dark!peter parker #fic #dark!fic #let me be your ruler #mob au #mafia au #au #mcu #marvel #series #spider-man #bucky barnes #steve rogers #tony stark

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painless-innit-colourful · 3 years

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Alright, I’m doing an appreciation post because this latest lockdown has made me realise the 🌟 positive impact 🌟 some of you have had on my life :)

(putting it under a read more this post is looong)

sidenote: also if you’re seeing this and you’ve ever left a nice comment on anything I’ve written I saved it and I love you.

Starting with the Mutuals:

@anti-kalvin-club: My first mutual, hopefully now that you’re getting into the SMP the spam from my blog isn’t as annoying? I dunno. Anyway, we met during the mcrblr renaissance (I miss it) and though it’s only been a year since we met, it feels like we’ve been friends for years. Sometimes I think of you like a big brother :) Thank you for the emo nerdery, the help with the gender, and your fantastic commentary of the Dem Debate (one of the funniest mornings of my life was waking up to the post-it note memes).

@ozzie-mandias: We’ve only spoken like once? But your blog is really cool? I remember meeting you through the MCR playlist exchange, and then we just vibed. You’re cool :)

@nixavia: Oh Nix, my weird little sibling, my streaming pal, my Texan friend who only ever seems to sleep from 5am onwards, bless you for putting up with me springing into DMs at any time of the day, either loaded with ideas or covered in paint, again XD You know how much I appreciate your friendship, but it bears repeating: DUDE YOU’RE SO COOL WITH THE ART AND THE MINECRAFT AND THE JRWI AND THE GETTING ME INTO THE DSMP, YOU GO YOU FUNKY LITTLE RANBOO KIN /hj that last part

@boxofnothingness: Hello Box! We’re still quite new friends, but your blog is just. Really. Cool, okay? I don’t really know much about you, but it always makes me smile to see you pop up in my notifs, and honestly I’m so glad you jumped in on the group pfp thing Nix roped me into. Hope to talk more in future :)

@garlic-dead: Hey Crow! I see you as the D&D cryptid mutual, and honestly I like to not look at your blog for a few days then binge the chaos in a big flurry of note spam (whoops, ‘pologies). I don’t really have anything else to say other than you’re cool and I will get to that ask you sent when I get around to actually watching Vibes of Rude Mountain (because I’m a dummy that gets excited for things and then doesn’t watch them for ages).

@pain-is-a-temporary-emotion-ii: I don’t really see you as a mutual since I know you irl, but anyway, all I’m gonna say is this: one of these days I will get you out of your darn house and on a walk with me :)))))

Okay, next up is the people I don’t think I’m mutuals with but I see you a lot and value your existence! Starting with-

@kowore: I hope you don’t mind me holding onto that ask that you sent me for a while, it made me feel really warm inside :) I don’t mind the note spam (I do that a lot myself haha), and I loved it the other night when we were vibing with the same gender thoughts lmao. I’d love to be mutuals or something, you seem really cool!

@tommy-and-tubbo: I think I tried to send an appreciative ask to you before but you’re inbox’s closed lmao. I see you in my notifs a lot and you tend to leave tags on everything, and as someone who also does that I love going through your blog and reading all of them; love hearing what people have to say. I just think you’re pretty darn cool. OH, and also you reblogged a couple bits of my writing saying nice things, which means I’ll now cling to you forever like a koala.

@universe-not-taken: YOOOOO I LIKE YOU. You’re another person constantly saying things in the tags so even when you don’t make your own posts you’re adding opinions - and I like that! Also your tags are just really, really funny and whoooo ClingDuo supremacy! I’d really like to get to know you better - you seem really cool!

And finally, couple quick </3 to @your-discs and @classyzombie. I see you two in my notifs all the time, and seeing you is like seeing the regulars at the bar. Your blogs are both great and I appreciate you hanging out :)

#crim speaks #i have a lot of love in my heart today so here :)#and if you're some random person reading this then hi! you can have some love too

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yumeisha · 3 years

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Love In Print [Masaru] - Episode 1

“But Mari, I don’t WANT to go read this on Wattpad, I want to stay here on Tumblr!” Listen, my friend. Let me help you. Here’s all of Episode 1! (But the rest is over here if you decide you want to read it!)

— SATURDAY NIGHT —

She’s started to think of it as the summer of weddings. Like purgatory, but with more flowers.

Reiko sighs. Another Saturday, another charming garden venue. Soft, flickering tea lights float in shallow porcelain bowls. It looks like something lifted straight out of Pinterest, and it’s pretty in all the right ways, hitting every obligatory aesthetic beat. The music is loud and many of the guests are amiably drunk, swaying in slow circles on the dance floor or queuing up for one more lap around the buffet.

Alone at her table, Reiko hides behind the towering lily centerpiece, nursing a headache. She fishes her phone out of the tiny, mostly useless evening bag she’s bought to go with this dress and takes refuge in her work inbox.

She’d love to go home, but it’s too early to make her retreat. Another two hours, she coaches herself. You can make it for two more.

“Come on,” says Ren, prodding her in the shoulder. Reiko jumps half a mile and nearly drops her phone, not that her cousin notices. “We’re missing a cake opportunity,” he whines.

As usual, Ren resembles a figure pulled directly off some runway in Milan. Impeccably attired, hair artfully tousled, a Rolex gleaming from his left wrist. Reiko plucks at a tuft of fur caught on the cuff of his tuxedo.

“You know, there is such a thing as a lint roller. You have one somewhere in your apartment.”

Ren peers down at the wad of cat hair slowly drifting down to the grass beneath their table. “Lint roller? What lint roller?” And then his face lights up. “Oh! You mean that tape-on-a-stick thing from the last time you came over?”

“Yes,” Reiko answers patiently. “That tape-on-a-stick thing. You use it to make sure you aren’t leaving the house dressed in cat fluff.”

Suzu pops up behind Ren. “He likes for everyone to know that he’s more complex than he appears. An insufferable playboy and a sophisticated cat bachelor.” She loops her arm through his and makes a show of sniffing at his clothes. “Ah,” she breathes. “The smell of too much money, layered over eau de too many cats.”

“I have three. How is that too many? And why aren’t either of you interested in getting some cake? This is a wedding. You go to weddings for cake.”

“That’s definitely the primary reason for attending weddings.”

“It’s from Fujiwara’s, you know. They never do weddings anymore. You’re missing the dessert event of your lives.”

Suzu straightens his boutonniere. “You accosted the Fujiwara grannies for these people?” A low whistle. “Wow. Dad must really like them.”

Reiko follows her twin’s gaze. Their father, Ryuuki, is busy holding court at a neighboring table. He laughs raucously at someone’s cheesy anecdote and is having the most fun out of all of them. “It’s all business, I suppose,” she says, unable to keep from smiling despite how little she’s enjoying herself.

Suzu snorts. “Of course it’s all business. Isn’t it always?” To Ren, she says, “Hey, how long before we’ve done our duty for the family market stall? I still have ten pages left to write on a research paper and it’s…” She grabs his arm in order to check the time on his fancy watch. “… 9:34. With half an hour’s drive back to my apartment.”

“You can spare ten minutes to have a slice of legendary cake, Tachibana Suzuna.”

“God, okay. But it better not be weird like that sheet cake you ordered for the charity auction last month.”

“Not weird. Avant-garde.”

“Uh-huh. Also, it tasted like beets and had radioactive magenta icing. So gross.”

“You and Reiko just really have no appreciation for the finer things in life. Let’s go, the line’s only getting longer.”

“Don’t want any,” Reiko pipes up. “I’ll have a slice vicariously, through Suzu.”

“Twin powers,” Suzu concurs, initiating the special handshake they invented when they were six. Almost twenty years later, they’re still augmenting the sequence with new moves. “Anything I ate, Reiko also ate. And vice versa. Page 2, Line 21 in the Twin Manual.”

“The worst plus-ones anybody ever brought to a wedding,” complains Ren. He pours Reiko a fresh glass of water from the pitcher on the table and gives her a pat on the head, a gesture of silent sympathy.

She watches Ren and Suzu as they stop to tease Ryuuki along the way. And then she blinks back the onslaught of unwanted tears, reaches for her phone again, and taps the newest e-mail notification. Three unread messages beckon through Reiko’s blurred vision. She scans the subject lines, head bowed over the glowing screen. Slipping into the steps of a familiar dance, she starts at the bottom with the oldest message first, because that’s easier than confronting her emotions.

PRE-ORDER CAMPAIGN - SPS OMNIBUS EDITION. A reply from the manufacturer about a shipment of Star Princess Sanna enamel pins she asked about on Friday afternoon. Delayed for another two weeks. Not ideal, but better than never getting them in at all. Reiko marks it for a response later.

TENJOU DELIVERY WEDNESDAY. Timestamped a mere ten minutes ago. She isn’t the only one working on a day off. Reiko notices right away that the message has been flagged as important, which is odd. This e-mail appears, without fail, every Monday of her life. Throughout the long history of this exchange, the message has never been flagged as important. At least, not that Reiko can remember.

She almost opens it, curiosity triggered, but then she sees the subject of the next e-mail and momentarily forgets everything else.

ALL DEPTS: QUARTERLY MEETING — MON @ 10AM

A thrill dances through her, momentarily displacing the throbbing ache in her skull. The sounds of the reception fade away. She taps the message and it unfurls into a calendar invite. Representatives from every department at her publishing house will be expected to attend, including Reiko and the other senior marketing staff.

Most meetings are a dreary prospect, especially when scheduled for first thing on a Monday. At these quarterly gatherings, it takes hours to discuss things like sales figures and future business plans. But this one is special, because they’ll finally present the twentieth anniversary plans for DUCHESS Magazine’s most iconic franchise to date: Red Thread. The first manga she ever read all the way through, start to finish. The reason why she applied at Yumeisha in the first place, as soon as she’d graduated.

Reiko accepts the invite and adds it to her burgeoning, meticulously color-coded calendar. She can’t keep from breaking into a smile. She’s still beaming at her phone when she hears the grass crunching softly under someone’s feet and looks up to find that she is no longer alone.

The someone is tall, just about as impeccably turned out as Ren, and wearing a pair of dress shoes so highly polished that Reiko can see her reflection in them. He’s shed the jacket and rolled up the sleeves of the crisp white shirt underneath.

There is only a bowl of tealights to see him by, so it takes a moment for Reiko to recognize the man now seating himself across from her. But if the head of blond hair hadn’t given it away, the green eyes and trademark smirk would have made it very clear within the next two seconds, anyway.

She blinks at him. “Oshiro?”

“Hi.”

“Um, hi. What are you doing here?”

He leans back into the chair and stretches his long legs under the table, instantly making himself at home. “Attending a wedding,” he replies. “Chatting with the bride’s aunties. Waiting for you to pay attention to me.”

“And sending e-mails?”

“No rest for the wicked, as they say.”

Reiko puts her phone down. “It’s weird seeing you outside of work. This is the last place I’d expect to run into you.”

“Why? Because you figured that I live at the office and camp out under my desk on days off?”

She laughs. “I mean, yeah.”

“To be fair, I’d expect the same of you.”

Well, that really is fair. Sometimes Reiko looks up from the endless loop between work and her apartment, her apartment and then work, and realizes that her entire existence can be summed up in three boring sentences or less. And then she’ll go back to her computer screen, her half empty coffee mug, the pathetic little granola bar that will have to serve as her lunch. But that’s just the way of things, isn’t it? At least she genuinely loves her job. It would be much harder to bear, otherwise.

“I’ve considered just packing myself a bag and living in my cubicle,” Reiko admits, without any real shame. In the background, the band segues into their much livelier cover of a depressing breakup anthem. Over the noise, she adds, “At least it would save me a commute.”

“So dedicated.”

She shrugs. “So lazy.”

“Anyone truly lazy wouldn’t be checking her inbox at a wedding reception,” Oshiro points out.

“Guilty as charged. Have you come to scold me for not participating in wedding activities?”

“No, I’ve come to ask you why you haven’t opened my e-mail.” He waves his own phone at her. “I checked three seconds ago. It definitely still says unread.”

“It’s flagged important and with a read receipt? Seriously?”

“Seriously. It’s high priority. Read it right now.” He angles a covert glance over her shoulder, in the direction he came from earlier. “Oh, and if you don’t mind, don’t reply until I’m back over there.”

“Wait, you want a reply, too? What am I supposed to say? You send me the same four lines every week. I have the thing memorized by now.” To prove this point, she clasps her hands behind her back and recites, “Heading to Tenjou on Wednesday. They need endcaps, window decals, sticker packs, blah blah blah, for insert-manga-title-here. I’ll stop by and grab them on my way out. Thanks. Oshiro Masaru, DUCHESS Sales, 81-4-8914-1111, extension 822.”

His demeanor shifts, now part bemusement and part blatant self-satisfaction. “Look, Tachibana, I’m beyond flattered that you hang onto my every word like this. Not surprising. I’m extremely eloquent in my digital correspondence.”

She rolls her eyes. “There it is. I knew it was coming.”

“You even know my extension by heart,” Oshiro continues blithely. “It’s like my wildest dreams coming true. But what I really need right now is for you to open that e-mail and write me a timely reply. By timely, I mean don’t hit send until I’m at my table again. And then I’ll read your response and write you back. So on, so forth, rinse and repeat, until this torture is over and we can both leave.”

“Ah.” Reiko crosses her arms. “You want a prolonged reason to be on your phone.”

“Correct.”

“Because you don’t want to be here.”

“Also correct, but needs clarification. I don’t want to be at this wedding. I do want to be at this table with you.”

He tips his head towards his original seating arrangements. Reiko risks a covert glance and notes that Oshiro’s vacated chair is surrounded by chattering ladies ranging from middle-aged to elderly. Somehow, without ever speaking to a single one of them, Reiko can tell that they’re the problematic aunties who don’t get along with any of the other aunties. Consequently, they’ve been placed where they can ostensibly do the least damage. From the looks of it, they’re having a fabulous time.

Reiko bites her lip, smothering a surge of laughter. “Wow. How did you end up with the best seat in the house? Like, who did you offend?”

“Ha ha. I owed the groom a favor and he cashed in, majorly.” Oshiro leans forward. “They’re a nice bunch, don’t get me wrong, but if they set me up with another of their nieces, I’ll be double booked from today until Christmas.”

“You’re welcome to sit here instead,” she offers. “We have an extra chair. My dad prefers to migrate between friend groups.”

“Thanks, but I can’t just abandon my post. I wouldn’t put it past them to follow me over here, or else I’d take you up on that suggestion. I figure random texts to my brothers will seem rude, unlike important work e-mails. So play along, won’t you? And keep in mind at least one of them will be reading over my shoulder the whole time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? What on earth do you think I’d be putting in that e-mail?”

“I’m just saying, don’t use this as an opportunity to confess your undying love or anything. Maintain professionalism and all that.”

“Gosh, what a tall order. How will I ever comply?”

“Dig deep, Tachibana. Find that inner strength.”

Reiko pulls a face. “You came all the way here just to make me do this?”

“Yes,” says Oshiro. “You’re welcome. I’ll look for your thank you note in the mail. I also like gift baskets. The ones with baked goods are okay, but no edible fruit bouquets or artisan cheeses. Nobody wants those.”

“But why me?” she persists. “Don’t you have anyone else you can trade fake work e-mails with? What about Ueda? Or your boss?”

“Hey, take it easy. I’m not used to outright rejection.”

“I’m not rejecting you, I’m just confused.”

“What’s there to be confused about? I don’t want to be here. Neither do you. Let’s help each other out.”

Neither do you. Reiko feels very, very obvious, now.

He watches her expectantly. She can tell that he’s fighting hard not to break into one of his insouciant grins. Reiko can’t decide if she wants to smack him or bask in the infectious warmth of his attention, like a deprived houseplant straining to soak up every drop of sunshine it can get.

This conflicted reaction is more embarrassing than being caught on her phone. For God’s sake, it’s just Oshiro.

Their departments — Sales for him, Marketing for her — are often flung together, which means running into him at Yumeisha is pretty normal. They take the same elevator from the lobby and frequent the same break room on the tenth floor. He stops at her desk most Wednesday afternoons, as promised in his e-mails. Once in a while, if she stays even later than usual, Reiko might see him striding ahead of her through the lobby’s sliding glass doors, crossing the street to catch the same train. They never talk much, though, unless it’s about work.

Still true, she concludes, as Oshiro stands up and pushes the chair into place, preparing to return to the Island of Matchmaking Aunties. He walks backwards away from her, hands in his pockets. “Talk soon,” he tells Reiko, smiling as if he’s guessed all her secrets. And then he’s gone, threading his way through the crowd while she stares after him, utterly bewildered.

Read more episodes on Wattpad!

#love in print #oshiro masaru #tachibana reiko #mariko writes things

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angeltiddies · 5 years

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Prompt: For Dean's birthday, Cas Googles "presents for loved ones" and inadvertently follows recommendations for romantic gifts.

Shit. Okay. Hi anon, i forgot how to see inbox notifs and have no clue if u sent this during my drunk promt ask or sober prompt ask but will fill now.

Alright nvm ^^^ that didn’t happen.

I lost this prompt for days after I got drunk and I couldn’t find it in my drafts and alas, finally. Anyways, this was written fully sober, lmao.

Just a Little Bit of Your Heart, 2.2k,

fluff, light angst, post s14. (ao3 link if u want)

It’s January 20th, 4 days out from Dean’s 40th birthday and he still has yet to decide on a gift. It’s his first time, really, buying Dean a birthday gift. Sure, there had been the pack of funny socks he had snagged in passing from the check out at a Gas-N-Sip, but there hadn’t been any thought behind that, no planning, nothing that Castiel thought constituted the socks as a gift. Not really.

Not only that, but there had never really been occasion to purchase a gift for Dean until now. Sam and Castiel had decided that, with the world coming to an end and all, Dean finally deserved a proper birthday party. In years past, he had either insisted on drowning out his birthday’s with booze or insisted on ‘no gifts.’

Castiel isn’t sure why, maybe because the eldest Winchester brother would only feel more indebted to the others around him, or perhaps because he simply didn’t like gifts. Either way, that’s why it became his mission to get the perfect gift for Dean. Something that isn’t a curse, but a comfort.

The time after Mary and Jack had passed away and Chuck opened the gates of hell had been rough for Dean and him. Sam had kept a protective arm’s length between Castiel and Dean, insisting Dean needed time. It hurt to feel their bond being stretched thin as he’d watch Dean across the bunker from the corner of his eye, careful not to step into his space. Castiel had decided to stay in the bunker despite the tension though, Sam insisting they needed all hands on deck as they began on the long road to killing God.

Still, despite their close proximity, and the time they’ve had to heal, he can’t help but feel further from Dean.

Cas remembers when Sam told a story of the time he gave Dean a chocolate bar and some motor oil for Christmas. Apparently, Dean had lit up at the sentiment, but Castiel can’t handle settling for something like that.

Dean deserves something special.

Castiel begins his search on Google using the simplest, most “Dean” search terms he can think of.

Men’s flannels

Not special enough

Classic records

Maybe some time, but still, not good enough.

A new pair of boots

Shoes are always too risky.

Cowboy costume

Halloween maybe, but not for this.

Guns

Dean already has one he trusts.

It’s been nearly two hours browsing Google and Amazon before Castiel has to take a break and let his head loll back with a sigh.

After stretching a bit and standing up to pace the length of the bunker, he finally settles on a Google search that he’s sure will bear fruit.

Gifts to show you care for someone.

Castiel takes his time clicking through the links and scrolling through many of the lists. He nearly gives up when finally, an article entitled, “Gifts to Connect You to the Person You Care About” catches his eye.

Cas smiles at the headline and clicks through the list, cataloging the possibilities away in his mind.

However, all those possible gifts dissipate from his mind as soon as he sees it. It’s perfect, and they have some in stock at the Bed Bath & Beyond an hour and a half away in Nebraska. With that, Cas calls a “Be back later!” into the seemingly empty bunker and heads out to fetch Dean’s gift.

When he finally arrives at the store, he makes his way inside and heads to the sleep section, his eyes lighting up when he sees what he’s looking for on the shelf below a big “As Seen On TV” sticker.

Next to the sticker it reads: “Bed Beats”

Bed Beats are a pair of wristbands and compact speakers that are connected via wifi anywhere in the world. Just slip the wristband on, place the disc speaker underneath your pillow and send a request to your partner through the app. When they slip on their own wristband, the device will relay their heartbeat to your speaker and vice versa. Never feel disconnected again.

Castiel grins, giddy, and picks up the first box on the shelf. It’s exactly what he and Dean need. It’s the perfect way for Cas to watch over Dean without invading his space. It’s anatomical communication without speech. Cas will know when Dean needs help as his heartbeat speeds up, he’ll know when he’s at peace, he’ll know he’s alive.

He also blinks at the bursting yellow sticker that sits on the top left corner of the box that exclaims, “Great for Long Distance Couples!”

They may not be a couple, but with the way that their souls and relationship has grown distant, Castiel decides that’s enough to classify them as ‘long distance.’

As he waits in the line to check out, Cas also grabs a simple card and a tube of discounted, red wrapping paper left over from the holiday season.

When he gets back to his car, he decides it’s best to get everything in order before presenting the gift to Dean. When he finally gets into the heavily taped box, he pulls out one set of the wristband/speaker combos and sets it aside for himself.

Before shrouding the other set in the metallic, red of post-Christmas, 99¢ wrapping paper, he syncs the devices and downloads the app to avoid the hassle of setting it up later.

Then, he writes, with his thigh as a sort of table, in the card with an old pen he found in the console of his truck.

I’m including the instruction booklet in this card (please don’t read until after you open the gift!)

Dean,

I know I’ve made so many mistakes lately, and that perhaps we do not see eye to eye on everything any longer, but this is a chance to connect without having to agree. Just to sleep and not be so alone.

Happy Birthday. I hope you like it.

Yours, Castiel

However, he scribbles out the ‘yours’ as it feels out of place in this letter. With that, he seals the card, and the instructions, into a white envelope with Dean’s name in angelic script printed on the front.

The drive home is pleasant and he can’t help but feel butterflies for the moment he gets to present it to his charge.

The next days pass silently, Castiel with his gift for Dean hidden in his own closet and nearly forgotten amid all the preparations for the party.

Sam was in charge of inviting people and Dean had insisted on being in charge of food and drinks. On the day of the party, Castiel sits off to the side as many of the guests enter, most are hunters he’s never met before, and he can’t help but feel like an outsider as the day of barbequing and reminiscing devolves into pie and drunkenness by nightfall.

He’s glad to see Jody and Claire, but even then, their conversations are stilted, both of them want to speak primarily to Dean, the ‘birthday boy’, while Cas isn’t allowed that luxury.

He sits away from Dean all night, only making contact to say “Happy Birthday, Dean” after he blows out the ‘4’ and ‘0’ candles that someone stuck straight through the latticework on a sweet, cherry pie. Cas smiles as Claire goes up and whispers something to Dean that makes him throw his head back in laughter and begin a lively conversation with her.

That’s when he realizes he’s on the outside looking in.

From where he stands, nursing a finger of whiskey, he can see Alex and Garth discussing the medical anomalies of Lycanthropes, Sam, apocalypse-world-Bobby, Donna and Jody playing some sort of cards-and-drinking game, a few people he doesn’t know attempting beer pong in the war room and even a pair of local hunters musing over the library’s expansive collection.

He’s an outsider like he’s always been with the Winchesters. When he’s not of use, he feels unwelcome. He knows there’s never any ill intent, but even now, when he doesn’t even need his angel mojo, he still doesn’t quite fit. He doesn’t understand half of the banter thrown around the room, he can’t get drunk unless he drinks the entirety of the Men of Letters scotch collection, and he can’t interact with the guests without Dean coming up.

At this, loneliness overtaking him, he decides to retreat to his room to wait the party out.

He sends a nod and a tip of his glass to Sam before motioning that he’s leaving, Sam acknowledges him with a grin, drunk on whiskey and the excitement of the party, and Cas slips out of sight.

Before letting himself rest, he sneaks into Dean’s room to place the card and the gift on his bed.

He decides it’s best that way.

–

Castiel keeps his personal speaker and wristband close to him, beside his phone on his nightstand, hoping that some night it will be of use. He feels the uncertainty drift in and out as each night passes without so much as an acknowledgment of the gift.

A week passes before anything happens. It’s 3 am when Castiel’s ears pick up on the small ‘ding’ that pops out of his phone speakers.

He rolls over and grabs his phone. On the screen sits a notification.

Bed Beats

Dean would like to share his heartbeat. Accept?

Castiel grins into the dark and arranges the speaker underneath his pillow before securing the soft band around his wrist at his pulse point.

With a tentative thumb, he swipes to accept and lays his right ear down onto his pillow to hear Dean. He can hear his heart beating quickly, possibly a nightmare, Cas thinks, and wills his own jittery heart to slow. He has to be the grounding one for Dean, has to be a comfort.

His own heart beats deep like a drum, and soon he can hear Dean’s heart rate slowing to match his own. Soon, they’re in perfect sync with one another. He feels closer to Dean than he has in months and hopes Dean feels the same.

He listens as his charge’s heart rate begins to slow even more, to around 75 beats per minute, he notes, and assumes he’s slipping into sleep.

Castiel, usually one for wandering the bunker after the brothers are asleep, doesn’t dare lift his head from his pillow until Dean ends the connection come morning light.

It continues like this for many weeks, Dean requesting Castiel’s heartbeat in the wee morning hours, disconnecting at sunrise, and going about the days as if nothing has changed.

Nothing’s really changed during the day. They continue to keep their distance. Dean thanks him for making the coffee one Sunday morning and Sam tells Cas, “See, space is all you needed,” his eyes sincere, “It’s healing.” But Sam doesn’t know the reason the healing process has begun to speed up. Cas can tell Dean hasn’t told his brother of the gift, and he prefers it that way. It’s the first thing between them that Sam isn’t clued into since before Mary’s passing. That alone brings him peace.

It’s a Tuesday in early March when everything shifts. Cas is lying on his back in his bed, nerves nearly taking him. Dean almost always pings by 3 am, and now it’s 45 minutes past and he’s trying to keep calm.

A sound makes Castiel’s ears prick up, but this time it’s not a sharp ‘ding,’ it’s the soft sound of knuckles rapping on his door.

Cas, beneath the covers in his most comfortable shirt, one Dean loaned him for the brief period he was human, props himself up on one elbow and quirks his head as the door opens softly, revealing Dean in his doorway.

He’s in a Led Zeppelin t-shirt with holes around the seams, and a pair of black briefs, and the “Send Noods” socks Castiel bought him.

“Dean?”

“Hey, Cas” Dean whispers into the darkness as he steps into the room, shutting the door behind him with care.

Words die on Castiel’s lips and his breath hitches as Dean pads, soft and calm, to his bedside.

He lifts the corner of Castiel’s blankets ever so slightly and looks down into the glint of Castiel’s blue eyes as if asking permission. Castiel gives him a slight nod and holds his breath as Dean lifts the covers further and slips in under them. He positions himself with his head resting on the left side of Castiel’s chest, ear right above his heart and arm draped across him, hand gently thumbing at the soft fabric on Castiel’s right shoulder.

Castiel can feel his own heart rate pick up, it’s swift and uncontrollable and it’s filling his vessel up to the brim with hard thumps. He’s beginning to wonder if he’ll ever breathe again when a low thud overcomes his near panic.

As bright as a bell in a void, he hears it, Dean’s heartbeat, drumming from the deep. This time it’s his charge’s heart that’s strong and steadfast and convinces Castiel’s own to join it in slow synchronization.

Castiel takes in a breath and slows his own heart rate. He sees Dean’s eyelids flutter shut and he lets his chin rest in the soft of Dean’s hair, his left hand rubbing slow circles into his back.

“I missed you.”

Dean doesn’t speak, but Castiel can feel the whisper of a smile move on his chest.

As he lets himself drift into peace, thoughts blink in his mind at the pace of his heart.

I fit here. Dean fits here. This is my family. This is who I love. This is home.

____

(Gift based on this!!!)

#deancas #destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel ficlet #destiel drabble #angel !!#king !!#prompt fill #asks #johnlockshire #anon #Johnlockshire replies #s14 spoilers #spn s14 spoilers #my fics

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horansqueen · 5 years

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I Almost Care : Part 1

NOTES:

- I’ve always wanted to start a Louis story so here it is - I’ll add this to my masterlist along with a synopsis tomorrow. - Yea it’s still my name in this. I know it bothers some ppl but that’s how i write. - Parts will be about 2k. Not sure yet how many parts I’ll write tho, probably depends if people read it not. - I do not proofread and i do not have a beta, sorry! - i decided to start a tagging list so if you want to be tagged in chapters OR be informed privately when it’s updated, let me know in my inbox, in a reblog, in tags, or anything. - There will be smut. and fluff. - The title is a Hanson song. The lyrics will be posted in this post, right before the chapter. - if you read, comment, like or reblog I FUCKING LOVE YOU!

Hanson - I Almost Care

Even though I hurt you all the time You're on my mind, I wont deny Everything I did I take it back I'll make it right, at least I'll try Now there's only one thing on my mind It's taken me some time girl I'm ready now to lay it on the line I hope you want to try still, you know I will

Don't give up when you're so close Don't give up when you're almost there Don't give up when you're so close I almost care, I almost care

I admit I don't know why you'd stay I've tried so hard to push you away I'm saying all the words you used to say It's turned around, you've turned away

Now there's only one thing on my mind It's taken me some time girl I'm ready now to lay it on the line I hope you want to try still, you know I will

Don't give up when you're so close Don't give up when you're almost there Don't give up when you're so close I almost care Don't give up when you almost care

Now there's only one thing on my mind I hope you want to try still, you know I will

Don't give up when you're so close Don't give up when you're almost there Don't give up when you're so close I almost care

I ALMOST CARE : PART 1

LOUIS

"Las Vegas?"

My eyebrows raised but I chuckled lightly, shaking my head. My friends had talked about a trip for the summer but going to Nevada wasn't something I would have expected. It's not that I was not a fan of the states, it's more that I was not a fan of gambling.

"Been there, done that, mate." I added as my friend sat next to me.

I shook my head with a smile, bringing my phone closer to my face as my smile turned into a smirk. I started typing an answer to the girl I was currently seeing and moved my upper body back slightly when my friend tried to read over my shoulder.

"Liam, man, back off."

It was not deep and real love but it was nice and I was really starting to like her. I never really had luck with girls and it always seemed to end in a very bad way. I didn't know if this story was going to be like the others but I had hope, which was, perhaps, the most dangerous thing to have when it comes to feelings.

Liam moved away with a chuckle and I knew he was going to make a comment about how dirty I could be sometimes but he quickly got up and I glanced at him, noticing his girlfriend had arrived. She moved on her tiptoes and he wrapped his arms around her waist as she moved hers around his neck. He pulled her up just before they kissed and It made me groan.

"Go away with your sweet love, i'm nauseous now."

"Hello to you too, Louis."

Julie let out with a short laugh, getting back on her feet and sending me an amused smile. I put my attention back on my phone, smiling too.

"Wow, it only took you 10 seconds to notice I was there?" I let out sarcastically but jokingly. "I thought when Liam was around, you couldn't see anything else?"

"Mm, someone needs some." she let out.

From the corner of my eyes, I could see her smile turn into a smirk and mine did the same.

"I've got plenty, thank you." I replied quickly. "But you two should get a room."

They both laughed and sat down, chatting together for a few minutes until I felt Liam hit my arm, making me sigh louder than needed. I put my phone away and with a quick head movement, I moved my hair away from my eyes and turned to him.

"What?"

"Did Liam tell you about Vegas?"

Julie seemed excited and it made me smile fondly. They were probably both excited to go together as a couple and for a few seconds, I thought about inviting my somewhat-girlfriend too but quickly changed my mind.

"Yea but I don't think I'll go with you guys." I explained, leaning against my seat and grabbing my cup of coffee to take a sip. I grimaced at how cold it was. "I don't really like gambling."

"But you like getting drunk and partying." Julie argued, raising her eyebrows and making me shrug. "Perfect place for that."

"I can also do that in my living room or my local bar, what's your point?" I asked, raising one of my shoulders.

She grimaced and shook her head lightly, moving closer to me. I could notice Liam holding her fingers as he ate what was left of his breakfast. Who convinced me to be here this morning exactly? Waking up too early never started a day nicely, at least none of mine.

"Come on, Louis!" she whined, letting her head fall back on her shoulders dramatically. "It'll be fun! There will be a bunch of us, we'll rent a few rooms and party all weekend!"

I rolled my eyes an sighed again, letting my mouth make a weird annoyed noise at her useless arguments. I really didn't want to go, I just wanted to lay in bed with my girl and have sex for two days straight.

"I'm just getting time off, Jules." I stated, running my fingertips on the table. "I want to do nothing at all. The plane, the people, the noise... I don't know."

Silence took place between us but I knew she hadn't given up yet, she was just running short of ways to convince me but I knew she was clearly going to try again. I got up, my chair making an annoying sound as it scraped against the floor. I grabbed my wallet in my back pocket and left a bill, slipping my hand in my hair before clearing my throat.

"Look, I'll think about it, okay?" I promised as my phone beeped, telling me I had a new text message. "But don't get your hopes up."

I sent my best friends a sorry smile and bent down to kiss Julie's cheek before grabbing Liam's hand in mine and bringing my body closer to his and quickly moving away.

"Bye man, I'll text you."

As I stepped foot out of the restaurant, I took my phone out and put my hand near it to hide it from the sun and be able to read what my girlfriend had written. It turned out to be the four ugliest words ever put together in a sentence.

'We need to talk.'

/////

I blinked a few times, staring at the girl I actually almost called my girlfriend and ended up shaking my head to get back to my senses but also to get rid of what could potentially feel like some sort of pain. It was not sharp or anything, just a bit baffling, but it didn't last and I finally just sighed.

"Wow, that's great." I let out sarcastically as I watched her sit down on her couch.

She rubbed both her hands on her face, forgetting she had make up on, and a small black trace of high-liner appeared near her eyes.

"Look, i'm sorry, Louis."

I stared at her again but my expression turned into a frown.

"I really thought you knew this was just for fun."

Oh I knew, because it was pretty much my main reason to be with her too. I guess my ego was just having a rough moment. Perhaps I was used to girls liking me more than I like them and this time was clearly different. So some girl I was seeing is not really into me? Who cares? I've done worse to better people.

"That was fun and now it isn't." I pointed out, reaching in my back pocket for my phone. "It's not like we were gonna get married or anything."

"Exactly, and it was getting too serious, I'm not into these relationships thing, I just don't do them."

I scoffed but not because I didn't believe her. It amused me simply because if she really knew me, she'd be totally aware that I didn't do relationships either. But I guess no one really knows me and it's better this way.

"Yea I get that." I replied, sliding my finger on my phone to see my notifications pop. "I'll see you around. Or not."

I glanced up at her and turned around to walk through the door. I had barely step foot in her place when she told me we should stop seeing each other and now that I was back outside, I felt suddenly relieved. There was most likely an other girl I could find that would be a fun time and I scrolled through my contact to find one right before I got a new text message. I reached my car and sat behind the wheel before rolling my eyes at Liam's begging.

'Please, come to Vegas, or Julie will spend the whole trip talking about it.'

I chuckled at his bad attempt to convince me and just shrugged.

'Count me in .'

After hitting send, I threw my phone on the backseat and drove off. The ride home was quick and when I parked, I noticed my sister's car was still there. I almost forgot my phone on the backseat but finally grabbed it and rushed up the stairs. I opened the door, not having to unlock it, and took my shoes off, seeing her sitting on the couch and watching tv.

"Still here?" I asked, not really surprised, making her glance in my direction before quickly looking back at the tv.

"Hello, sunshine." she answered sarcastically as I let myself fall next to her with a groan.

"You remember you have your own place, don't you?" I pointed out, bringing my feet back on the couch and spreading my arms on the back of it. "With your own tv and couch."

"I thought you'd spend your weekend at Cindy's." she just said with a shrug, not even looking at me.

I didn't answer and this grabbed her attention. She took the remote and turned the tv off, turning her whole body on the couch to face me.

"You already ended things with her?" she asked, sending me a look that I couldn't decipher. "Seriously?"

The thought made me grimace and I looked away, shaking my head slightly.

"No fucking way, she left you?" Her lips curled into a smile and she threw her head back slightly to laugh.

I grabbed a cushion and hit her on the head with it, making her laugh even harder.

"Can believe the player got played!" she added, chuckling again as I sighed.

"I'm not a player, I just don't see the point of a steady relationship I mean, it's pointless."

We remained silent for about a minute until Lottie moved on her seat and leaned her head on the couch, still looking at me. I knew what she was thinking about because I was thinking about the same thing. I saw her lips part slightly and I decided to cut her before she said anything.

"Yes, but I don't want to talk about it." i let out quickly. "All I can tell you is that i'm never falling in love again."

Her expression changed into a sad one and she brought her hand on my thigh, squeezing it to comfort me, and it worked. If I wanted to be honest, Lottie was one of my best friends and if anyone could understand me, it was her. The problem was, I didn't want to dwell on the past. At least, not this specific past, because it still stung a bit.

"I truly hope that's not true, Lou." she admitted in a low tone. "You deserve to be happy."

This time, I smiled sincerely and chuckled.

"Who says i'm not?"

She decided to remain silent even if I knew she was probably biting her tongue. She had an opinion on all of this, one that differed from mine, and we both knew that if this discussion started, it wouldn't end up. It took her a few seconds but she swallowed hard and cleared her throat, quickly changing the subject.

"So, are you going to Vegas?"

I looked at her and blinked a few times, making her laugh.

"Yea I heard a few of you were going." she finally explained. "I'm surprised you have that many friends."

I grimaced at her and tilted my head, showing her my middle finger quickly and making her laugh even more. Liam hadn't mentioned who was coming specifically but I knew we were about to be more than just us.

"Yea I think there's nine of us going."

"So you're going?" she nodded. "That's good. It means I can stay here for a few more days."

She sent me a smirk and I laughed, shaking my head again.

"Of course. Mi casa es tu casa." I smiled fondly before quickly getting up. "I'm gonna go pack and then take a nap."

I felt my phone vibrate and grabbed it, almost dropping it and cursing low.

'We're leaving tonight. Picking you up at 7.'

"Yea, it's better you sleep before. I don't think you're gonna sleep much. And you better have lots and lots of fun. I mean, it's called Sin City, isn't it?"

I smirked at her and bent down slightly to kiss the top of her head.

"That's the plan."

#louis tomlinson #louis tomlinson fluff #louis tomlinson smut #louis tomlinson story #louis tomlinson fic #louis tomlinson fanfic #louis tomlinson fan fic #Louis tomlinson writing #my fanfics #god i hope its not too bad tbh

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solange-lol · 5 years

Text

not so typical love song - ch. 3/13

Chapter Title: Strawberries & Cigarettes

Words: 1,741

Art by @lizzybizzyo! <3

read on ao3

—

Over the course of the next few weeks, Nico and Blue exchanged numerous emails. Whether he was at school, at home, or anywhere in between, Nico did his best to reply as soon as possible. It even ended in his phone being confiscated a few times in a couple different classes. Nico couldn’t help it, though; every time a new email popped into his inbox there was an unfamiliar fluttering in his heart and itching in his hands to reply just to hear what Blue had to say.

One morning Nico had forgotten to set his alarm, and in his rush to school had no time to read the most recent email from Blue, much less respond to it. He snuck out of lunch and headed for the library and their computers that afternoon. It was a risky task, considering their computers were right there in the open and anybody, including Blue himself, could walk behind him, but it was a risk Nico was willing to take. The service at their school was beyond shitty; Nico really wasn’t in the mood for waiting half an hour just for the email to load. And something about their most recent conversation had Nico’s heart racing.

He had suggested a John Snow costume for himself before casually asking Blue what he planned on dressing up as. He knew for a fact that the Stoll brothers were once again hosting their famous Halloween party that nearly the entire school showed up to. As long as it wasn’t something stereotypical like a pirate or a ghost, there was a chance Nico might be able to at least scope out who Blue may be. It was no secret that Nico’s curiosity was growing on who was behind all the emails, but Blue was a private person and refused to give out too many details.

Nico logged in quickly to his gmail and opened the unread notification in his inbox.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Date: Oct 28 at 6:07 AM

Subject: Re: Halloween Costumes

I’m sure you would look great in a John Snow costume. Not just anyone can pull off that hair, but something tells me that you can. Anyone would be lucky to have you as a trick or treater.

I’m not dressing up for Halloween though. My mom has this tradition of going to the Halloween open mic night at some bar, which leaves me stuck at home handing out candy. (Don’t worry, I still have pumpkin sweater to wear for the occasion. It’s the ugliest thing you’ll probably ever see.)

For me, Halloween is all about the Oreos with the orange frosting in the middle. I’m not usually one to indulge in a lot of sweets, but chocolate is my downfall. And those Halloween edition Oreos are a personal favorite of mine.

-Blue

While Nico was disappointed to not get any more of a lead on who Blue was, he still felt himself smiling at the Oreo obsession.

He typed out a response as quickly as he could, hoping to still be able to make it back to lunch so he could eat before the period was over.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Date: Oct 28 at 12:37 PM

Subject: Re: Halloween Costumes

It’s unfortunate that you’re not dressing up, I feel like you would be someone to come up with a witty costume but it’s actually GOOD. (i.e. not the ‘holy cow’ costume I did with my friend a few years back with involved cow onesies and angel wings and halos. Never again.) At least you aren't crushing that childhood trick or treater spirit with that pumpkin sweater, which I hope one day I get to see.

And you’re not wrong about the Oreos. I hope whichever party I’m being dragged along to this weekend has them because they are freaking delicious.

-Angel

He attached a gif of cartoon pumpkins floating down onto an Oreo cookie that was already covered in orange frosting. Just as Nico hit send, Mr. Brunner wheeled up to him.

“Hey, Nico!” Mr. Brunner said. “How are you? You’re smiling pretty big, so there must be something good going on!”

“Oh, um,” Nico cleared his throat as he quickly put the computer to sleep. “Nothing crazy. Just checking grades. I got an A on my English paper.” He actually got a B+, but he needed a coverup quick before Mr. Brunner asked any more questions.

Thankfully, it worked. “Oh, great job!” Mr. Brunner said, placing his hand on Nico’s shoulder. “I’m glad to see you’ve been pretty happy these past few weeks.”

Nico forced a laugh. “Uh, yep. Just having a good month.”

“Good, good.”

There was a few seconds of silence before Nico spoke again. “Anyway, uh, I need to get back to lunch. Have a good day, sir.” He turned quickly, barely catching Mr. Brunner raising an eyebrow at the formal tone. He nearly ran straight into Octavian as he rushed out the library, who just gave him a dirty look, which Nico ignored.

“Where have you been?” Reyna asked once he reaches the courtyard. The weather was nice today, not too cold, unlike the past days that month, so the school allowed students to eat outside if they chose.

Nico dropped down in the seat next to her. “Library. Just checking grades.”

Reyna nodded, clearly not completely believing him. “Here are your burnt tots because you have horrible taste,” she said, thankfully dropping the subject and also said tater tots onto Nico’s tray.

Nico nodded in thanks, before picking the not-quite-ripe banana off his tray. “And here is your green banana because you like disgusting things,” he shot back as he handed it to her. Reyna only hummed in agreement.

Piper looked between the two of them, brow furrowed.. “You guys are weird.”

“You get used to it after a while,” Jason sighed next to them.

They continued to chatter as Will, Cecil, Lou Ellen, and the Stoll brothers slid onto the other two empty benches around their table. Nico ripped open a pack of Oreos that he had brought, which earned him a small lecture from Piper about eating dessert before he had lunch.

“Am I right, Will?” she asked the boy across the table once she’s finished.

Will just shrugged and nodded. “Sure.”

“Thank you.”

As Piper went back to her conversation with Jason and Reyna about halloween costumes, Will nudged his hand. Surprised, Nico looked up at him.

“Oreos,” Will smiled. “I love those. Halloween ones are the best.”

Nico laughed shakily, but it felt like his heart had just leapt to his throat. “Yeah, though good luck trying to get any of mine this time. I don’t give up that easy,” he managed.

“You’re in luck then,” Will said with a grin as he reached into his back pocket “—because I brought my own.” He displayed a package nearly identical to the one Nico was holding, but with orange filling rather than the classic white cream ones in Nico’s hand.

He laughed with Will, but his mind was racing.

Did he just find Blue?

Was is possible that he would find Blue so early on? They had only been talking for about a month, there was no way Blue would drop it easily.

And yet, part of him could hear Will’s voice echoed in some of the emails he’s received. He can imagine Will laughing at his awkward childhood stories, or blushing as he types out one of his own. They’re goofy, fun messages while still being reserved. It would fit for Will.

“Nico? Nico—” Piper waves her hand in his face, zapping him from his trance and tearing his gaze away from Will who, thankfully, was too wrapped up in a conversation with Cecil to notice him staring. “Hello? Anybody home? What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing, sorry. Just tired. Uh, what’s going on?” He blinked a few times, focusing back on Piper. Her brow was furrowed, but she didn’t say anything.

“Just planning the Halloween party,” Travis said from across the table, high-fiving his brother. “Our mom’s out of town for the week again, so we’re going full swing. Everybody’s invited!”

Nico just smiled at the enthusiasm. The Halloween party had been tradition since their freshman year, and it was only getting bigger as they got older. Being surrounded by a bunch of drunk kids wasn’t usually Nico’s choice of event, but this was the only party he ever really attended, so he could stand it. Once a year, at least.

“You are going, right?” Will asked. “Because I couldn’t do karaoke alone.” Nico was surprised that Will was asking him. Maybe deep down he knew something too.

“Yeah,” Nico smiled. “Yeah, I’m going.”

---

Nico found himself watching Will in their environmental science class. It’s last period, the only class they had together. Will sat two rows over from him, and further in the back while Will sits up close to the teachers desk.

Blue’s most recent email, which he received shortly at his lunch, plays in his head. But this time, he hears it all in Will’s voice.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Date: Oct 28 at 1:21 PM

Subject: Re: Halloween Costumes

I’m glad to see we are in agreement about the Oreos, that would have been a dealbreaker for me.

On a totally different, non-cookie related note: is it weird that I have no idea what you look like but I can’t stop thinking about kissing you?

-Blue

Nico sucked in a breath, hearing those words over and over again, the test in front of him forgotten. Instead, he watched as Will’s curls bounce when he leaned forward, and Nico could just barely see a glimpse of his pink tongue dart from between his lips for just a second as he concentrated. He watched freckled, tan skin that lead from his neck and under his shirt, down his arms all the way to his palms. They danced like stars as Will scribbled in another answer.

“Nico,” the teacher called, and Nico quickly looked over to him. “Eyes on your own paper.”

He’s about to look away when Will turned around and time seemed to stop for a moment. Will flashed a soft smile and shook his head at him. Nico smiled and rolled his eyes back, but inside, it felt like he might explode.

#solangelo #nico di angelo #will solace #pjo #heros of olympus #nstls #pjo hoo big bang

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moonbeambucky · 6 years

Text

The Price of Gold (Part 17)

Pairing: Lance Tucker x Reader Word Count: 4654 Warnings: angst, mention of cancer, mention of real life gymnastics sex abuse scandal

Summary: As a sports journalist you’ve traveled the world interviewing famous athletes. You’ve loved your job up until you find out your next article is on the last person in the world you ever wanted to talk to, Lance Tucker.

A/N: This was probably the hardest chapter I had to write but I love it so much and I hope you do too! This doesn’t follow The Bronze canon though some film details are mixed with real world events. Written for @green-eyeddragonfanfiction Dragon’s 3k Follower Creative Content Challenge. My prompt was “I can’t be in love with you!” gif source (x)

PART 16 | THE PRICE OF GOLD MASTERLIST

On the grand opening day for Tucker Gymnastics Lance looked like absolute shit. He spent the night in the ER again with his mother and Nadia, all for the doctors to tell him the same thing as before, his mother was dying.

Lance cupped Dorothy’s hands in his own, watching her hooked up to machines again. This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t call. Why didn’t you listen to him? Nadia said she received a phone call that made her really confused. There was screaming from the other end of the line and it was upsetting Dorothy but all she kept repeating was “Y/N.” She became so upset she started to panic, her mind couldn’t handle whatever was happening and Nadia couldn’t calm her down. Her blood pressure was through the roof and so she went to the hospital.

He contemplated everything, wondering if you were playing games with him from the start. Maybe he deserved it. Lance knew he fucked up in the past but he was young and stupid. He was also madly in love with you and every day he tried to explain, to apologize. Even if you didn’t forgive him he just wanted to see your face one last time to know it was really over. Instead you ignored him and the open wound that was his heart hurt more and more until it was infected. He partied to forget you, he became the asshole that would have driven you away if you even attempted to contact him. He convinced himself that he didn’t need anyone but it was a lie. He always needed you.

But now Lance doesn’t know what to think because you hurt his mother. He ignored your calls and texts, turning his phone off because he couldn’t stand to look at your face each time the photo of you cuddling together on his couch popped up. Once he thought you were beautiful but now he only sees a monster. How could you do this to him?

Lance left the hospital to run home quickly, disgusted that he stood in the same shower you shared only twenty-four hours ago. He changed and sped over to the center, hoping the bags under his eyes weren’t too deep, hoping he could claim he was up all night preparing for this day.

He was in a daze as the day went by. He should have been happy, this was his dream; his center was USAG accredited, there was an overwhelming sign up from excited children and their parents but Lance wanted to scream. He was too exhausted to deal with everything, wanting to go home and sleep for the next month instead of being there. Looking around all he saw were memories of you and he hated it. You turned his dream into a nightmare.

By the end of the following week Lance was exhausted after visiting his mom after a long day at the center. She had been back home for a few days, with new medication to ease her discomforts. She refused treatment knowing there was no point to it; she’d rather not face the side effects again especially after the cancer had spread.

Lance plopped on the couch slinging his arm over his tired eyes, even the soft glow of the flickering TV was too bright for him. His head was pounding and he wanted to sleep. The sound of his phone going off disturbed the small moment of peace he found. Now that the center was open his phone was always going off with notifications, emails regarding new students and scheduling, Twitter replies, and continued texts that go unreturned from women he didn’t care to involve himself with.

Lance instinctively opened the inbox for the email created for the center to find there was nothing new there, it was his personal email that had a new message and his stomach twisted into knots when he saw it was from you.

Sitting up now he stared at his phone, debating if he should even open your message. You never read any of the apology notes he left for you so he thought about doing the same but something pulled at his heart and he decided to click the box, bracing himself for whatever words were on the opposite side.

Dear Lance,

I want to apologize for many things but the most importantly for the phone call your mom received. An ambitious former coworker searched for her number and used my name to try to gain information. This shouldn’t have happened and I take full responsibility for everything. I love your mother very dearly and I would never jeopardize her health or privacy, ever.

I’m also sorry for accusing you of something that didn’t happen. I felt like my trust was broken, like I was that vulnerable teenager again who didn’t want an explanation. I ran away then just like I ran away now and I’m sorry. It’s a bad habit of mine that I’ve come to realize since my trip to Spring Hill.

Speaking of, it comes as no surprise to us both that I was reluctant to go on that trip but I’m very happy that I did. Despite how things ended I want you to know that I’m truly happy we resolved our issues from the past. I’m really sorry it took so long.

Writing has always helped clear my head. When thoughts are swirling around my mind like a hurricane it’s comforting to get them out in this way. Since I’ve been back in New York I’ve taken the time to write down all of my thoughts about our experience together. Even though you aren’t approving the article I wanted you to read it, keep it for yourself and know just how much you’ve always meant to me.

I wish you the very best success with your gymnastics center and your life. You deserve great things Lance Tucker, you always have.

-Y/N

A lump was caught in Lance’s throat with tears burning his eyes as he reread your email. He felt horrible, saying those things to you when you were innocent. He knew you would never hurt his mom and now he hated himself for yelling at you.

Lance went into the kitchen to grab something to drink, leaning over the cool countertop of the island and opening the PDF attachment within the email.

IN DEPTH with Lance Tucker By Y/N Y/L/N

Sacrifice. Sacrifice is a word that’s tossed around the sports industry a lot with the focus on the athlete and the things they’ve sacrificed to get to where they are today. Sacrifices are never easy. Most athletes have strict diet and workout regimens to adhere to, others have sacrificed their time, losing hours that could be spent with friends and family in favor of practicing, training or performing halfway across the world. When you’ve achieved your goal of becoming that athlete it makes the sacrifices a little easier. They were part of the journey to the top but what about the sacrifices put you on the path in the first place?

Lance Tucker was a household name when he made it to the top by winning a Silver Medal in the 2004 Rome Olympics and the Gold in 2008 Beijing Olympics for the US Men’s Gymnastics Team, but the name you should know is Dorothy Tucker. If it wasn’t for the sacrifices of Dorothy, Lance’s mother, Lance would not have become the athlete we know today.

For the first time in my sports journalism career I haven’t had to do research on the person I would be going to interview. In 1991 I moved to Spring Hill, Florida and the first friend I ever made was the boy across the street, Lance Tucker. He and his mother Dorothy welcomed my family to the neighborhood and we all became very close.

Lance’s father Mitch was an intimidating man, loud and gruff, angry at the world for the cards he had been dealt. He was the type of man that dreamed of a better life but let his own insecurities hold him back. He settled in for a blue collar job, living every day with regrets that were pacified when he reached the bottom of the bottle.

Mitch insisted on being the sole provider for the Tucker family, something I learned later on that Dorothy heavily protested but after various screaming matches she ended up settling into her role as housewife. He worked long hours so Dorothy and Lance had become accustomed to being alone together. Dorothy sat through episodes of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles with her son excitedly jumping off the couch to reenact the fight scenes. She laughed as Lance’s little body spun around from the force of the punches he threw to the air as he pretended to fight The Foot Clan but he showed grace when he mimicked the turtles, doing cartwheels and somersaults around the living room.

On trips to the park Lance would climb the monkey bars and Dorothy noticed his agility, seeing him demonstrate more coordination and balance than his peers. She scanned through her VHS tape of the 1988 Olympics for the gymnastics portion she swears she recorded. Upon finding it, Dorothy asked Lance watch it with her and this was the day his life changed. The four year old was mesmerized with the sport and was especially excited to see a young man with his namesake, now retired Olympian Lance Ringnald, practically flying in the air as he swung over and under, flipping his body around the high bar. From that day forward Lance wanted to become a gymnast too.

Mitch was against the idea from the start but Dorothy fought for her son, sacrificing her sanity as Mitch continually yelled; his booming voice shaking the foundation of their home, all because of some old fashioned ideas about what it means to be a man.

Mitch Tucker grew up idolizing Mickey Mantle, an extraordinary baseball player whose life outside of the field was equally as exhilarating, indulging in the Manhattan nightlife offerings of endless booze and women. In Mitch’s mind Mantle was a real man he could look up to and while he never played any professional sports he certainly tried to emulate the lifestyle of his hero.

When his young son took an interest in gymnastics it was safe to say that Mitch panicked, worrying that it would make Lance soft and feminine. It was close minded thinking ingrained in him from a long line of other close minded thinkers.

Fighting with Dorothy over Lance’s hobby became a natural part of their relationship and while he didn’t appreciate her standing up to him in some twisted sense of pride he liked the devotion she had towards Lance.

Reluctantly, Mitch began to take Lance to competitions and despite his son’s talent, earning top scores and gold medals from an early age he would consistently demean Lance and his achievements, telling him he should quit and join a real sport instead.

When Lance was ten his parents separated. Mitch’s drinking and infidelity (something both Lance and I were unaware of as children) had reached an all time high but it was the way he spoke about Lance that angered Dorothy the most; Mitch was disappointed in him.

On the surface Lance was an award winning, talented gymnast who was dedicated to his training. He balanced schoolwork and house chores and still made time to see his friends. He was a smart and kind young man and he adored his mother. When you put everything together you can easily see what Mitch was disappointed in, Lance was nothing like him.

I won’t say that Dorothy sacrificed her marriage because she always deserved someone who treated her with love and respect, nevertheless with divorce on the horizon Dorothy was in need of a job. She worked hard, as a letter carrier during the week and got a second job on some nights and the weekend in a dentist’s office to ensure she could pay for Lance’s increased gymnastics training and it paid off in his achievements. Lance continued to compete and the walls of his room were decorated in medals and trophies from various competitions.

There’s a natural sense of pride in winning especially when you’ve worked as hard as Lance Tucker did. In middle school he began training exclusively with Coach Jaclyn Burrows who occupied most of his time after school and on weekends. Despite his exhaustion Lance never failed to hand in his homework and even if his body was sore and achy he never once complained. Although there was the time during my twelfth birthday party where he came very close.

It was held at a roller skating rink and Lance begged Coach Burrows to come in a few hours earlier in order to get out in time so he didn’t miss all of my party. When I saw Lance had arrived I skated over to him, jumping with excitement as he laced up his skates but the minute Lance got onto the floor his overworked legs were like jelly and they gave out on him. I helped him up as he gripped on to me and I skated us both to the benches. He apologized, asking if I would be upset if he didn’t skate. Of course I would never ask him to do that but had I said yes I know Lance would have forced himself to do it, gripping the rail against the wall for support with a smile on his face just so I would be happy.

Lance laid on the bench, resting his head on his mother’s leg as he watched me skate by, eventually closing his tired eyes and falling asleep because he was exhausted. Dorothy woke him up in time for cake although Lance couldn’t have any. He had an upcoming competition and he restricted himself, sticking to a regimented diet of lean meats and vegetables. For a thirteen year old that is sacrifice! Lance stared at the forbidden dessert decorated with flickering candles as he and I posed for a picture, smiling widely as we hugged.

By the time Lance was in his first year of high school he was completely overworked. He was training to compete for the Junior Olympic National Championships while trying to balance the heavy workload of his classes. He hardly had time to do anything, trying to read books for English class on the bus to Coach Burrow’s gymnastics center, training until it was dark, rushing through dinner and staying up late to start his homework. He was burning out easily and Dorothy hadn’t truly seen the effects until she received a call from the Principal’s office. Lance was sleep deprived and his body was too sore to move, so when the Physical Education teacher yelled at him for “being lazy” and not participating Lance snapped at the man, yelling and crying out of frustration (a terribly embarrassing scene for Lance in front of his classmates).

Dorothy wanted Lance to complete high school but she understood there was no way he could do it with the amount of training he required, so she pulled him out in favor of hiring someone to homeschool him. It was another expense she really couldn’t afford but she made sacrifices, dropping the expensive cable TV and only buying new clothes for Lance when he absolutely needed them. Unfortunately the boy was growing into a man whose body was growing as well, becoming taller and stronger but Dorothy never complained. She mended her own wardrobe as needed so Lance could get new clothes, it was a privilege for her to sacrifice things in favor of her son.

Lance homeschooled for a few hours six days a week and he trained for seven, dedicating as much time as he could. Nationals were an important step in his Olympic journey and my family and I were there to support him. Lance was neck and neck with Michael McNamara, each of them rotating between first and second place after each event. It wasn’t until Lance completed his routine on the high bar, expertly performing moves I still don’t know the names for that sent him to the top.

He twisted around the bar, varying his grip and changing direction. I watched with amazement at the way he skillfully controlled his body around the steel frame. Finally he swung around the bar gaining enough momentum to spring upwards, his body rotating a few times before he stuck a strong landing, reaching his arms up with achievement. The perfect execution of his routine earned him the Gold Medal with Dorothy running up to him, tears of joy streaking down her face as they celebrated a big win. Lance and I lost touch before he the 2004 Olympics but I watched as he took home the Silver medal. I was proud of him though Dorothy was the true celebrant that day; this was the culmination of the sacrifices she made.

A lot can happen in four years. In the four years between the Olympics Lance had turned from a boy on the brink of adulthood to a man at twenty-one, standing taller, stronger and more determined than ever. He pushed himself to train harder, wanting another shot at the gold.

Lance moved to Houston, Texas to train full time with Kevin Mazeika of the Houston Gymnastics Academy. Mazeika who has served on the National Team Coaching staff since 1988 spoke about Lance before Beijing stating “I’ve never met anyone as focused as Lance Tucker. He eats, sleeps and breathes gymnastics. He wants to be the best and I’ll tell ya [sic] with the way he’s training he just might be.”

Lance put himself through a grueling diet to ensure his body was at its peak physical condition. He pushed himself to the limit as he worked on his routines. He became a machine, training until ever imperfection was eradicated. He needed to be perfect.

Lance was obsessed, needing to win the gold to feel validation from the unnecessary demands he put on himself. He only visited home during the holidays and quickly returned to Houston to train. As Lance bent forward to receive his gold medal he was a changed man. He reached the top of the mountain and instead of being thankful for the journey and the sacrifices made he was boasting. To commemorate his win Lance got his infamous ribbon tattoo, an impulsive decision he looks back on today and regrets.

Lance was at the top of his career after his Olympic win, becoming the youngest National Team Coordinator in US Gymnastics history, purposely taking a position with the women’s team because his self-admitted ego would not allow him to train the men’s team and become overshadowed by anyone.

Lance had a successful career living in Los Angeles when he wasn’t travelling for USA Gymnastics and then his world came to a complete halt when the scandals broke.

Psychologists have argued about the various reasons why we like scandals. They’re a form of entertainment, a real life soap opera that plays out before our eyes, they give us distraction from our own lives, sometimes making us feel good if we can compare ourselves to the persons involved and think we’re better than them because of this.

In the early 1990’s sports scandals became surprisingly common beginning with the attack on Nancy Kerrigan followed by the O.J. Simpson murder trial. The scandals were ubiquitous between the endless cycle of news programs and media coverage.

On the day of the Simpson verdict everyone was waiting with bated breath, with workplaces standing still, listening to the radio to hear whether the former football player was deemed guilty or innocent. The actual verdict was irrelevant since the story was so sensationalized it had become detached from the facts. Instead of being concerned about the horrific murder of Nicole Brown-Simpson and Ron Goldman, the country was in hysterics over Johnnie Cochran’s infamous glove line. It seems like people will always enjoy the entertainment that scandals bring as long as they aren’t affected by them personally.

When Lance Tucker was at the center of various scandals his life was forever changed. A student accused him of fathering her child, another accused him of rape, and while every accusation was proven to be untrue Lance was let go by USA Gymnastics, a direct result of the case with former National Team Doctor Larry Nassar. USAG was under fire for not protecting the athletes as their employees who worked in and around Nassar at the Karolyi Ranch failed to report or tried to cover up the incidences.

Lance believed he was wrongfully let go as he was innocent and began to prepare an appeal until he received devastating news about his mother. Dorothy had cancer and with that knowledge Lance shed the hard exterior he created, his arrogance cracking on the ground like shattered glass.

Lance returned to Spring Hill, taking up permanent residence to be closer to Dorothy and assist her with treatment. Lance sacrificed his career, having neither the time nor desire to make an appeal to USA Gymnastics, staying in the shadows instead to care for his mother, the woman who sacrificed so much during her life for him.

Eventually Lance needed a source of income as the money he previously earned through endorsements was dwindling quickly thanks to the expensive healthcare system. He refinanced his home to start a business, Tucker Gymnastics in the heart of his hometown.

While Dorothy battled cancer Lance found the strength to fight as well, finally appealing the committee’s decision with a motion to be reinstated. Lance’s decision to do so was not for himself but for his mother, wanting to make up for his past behavior when fame and arrogance became more important in his life. He sought to bring honor back to the Tucker name so that Dorothy would know how appreciative Lance was for all the sacrifices she made for him, though Dorothy didn’t need any of that. She loves her son wholeheartedly and she would do it all over again to ensure his happiness, knowing his love in return is all she ever needed.

Tucker Gymnastics is in its infancy but under the care and direction of Lance Tucker I have no doubt the gymnastics center will flourish. Lance has lived a lifetime of ups and downs both personal and professional. He’s an excellent teacher and coach, and future gymnasts will have an opportunity to learn great things from him.

However the greatest gift Lance can give to his future students is the knowledge of firsthand experience. Lance wants them to learn about the path to the top of the mountain and the sacrifices they will make along the way. He wants to provide guidance for when they’re at the top and how to safely get back down and avoid the mistakes he’s made.

The price of gold is high and Lance Tucker wants to ensure his students know the sacrifice it takes to pay it.◼️

Lance had been crying as he read the article, wiping his tears on his sleeve. He was overcome with emotion as you fondly recalled your memories of his childhood, painted his life honestly and above all unexpectedly praising his mother in a way no one else had done before.

It was beautiful. He sniffled, ripping a paper towel off the roll and blowing his nose with it. His heart ached as it beat against his chest wondering how he ever could have questioned you in regards to the phone call. His throat became dry so he quickly finished his sports drink, wiping the tears from his face once more.

Lance didn’t know what to do with himself now. He felt terrible and wanted to apologize. He wanted to speak with you, to fly to New York and hold you in his arms again. To tell you how much you meant to him, to tell you that he loves you.

He ruined things between you though. He was embarrassed with himself, he yelled at you for the first time in his life and he hated it. He yelled at you like his father yelled at his mother, raising his voice loud enough to talk over you, shouting from the pit of his stomach. He was cruel, just like his father, the comparison disgusts him. He didn’t deserve you.

Lance took a shower to clear his mind and after tossing and turning for hours he finally grabbed his phone from the nightstand, opening your message and briefly replying “Print it.”

The beeping of your alarm awoke you from the peaceful sleep you finally managed to fall into. The moment your eyes opened you went to your phone. You hated how eager you were to see if Lance responded but you had to. Seeing his reply made your heart race but as you read his message it stopped entirely.

Lance’s short reply brought tears to your eyes. At least Susan will be happy he’s going forward with the article but there was no mention of your apology even though you explained the truth. Maybe he still thinks you’re lying or maybe he doesn’t care. The fact that his response was all business made you painfully aware of the fact that whatever you and Lance had in the past is where it should have stayed.

Months passed and you were now in the middle of a new assignment that had you packed in a stadium in Nashville, Tennessee, with thousands of people celebrating as others criticized a controversial call made by the referee. It was a decision that led to the Pittsburgh Penguins winning the Stanley Cup finals. Though he is captain, Sidney Crosby is as soft spoken as they come. He exudes a calm demeanor one wouldn’t expect when you think of hockey players, especially not a back-to-back championship winner.

The Penguins were celebrating their win tonight and though Sidney was happy for his team he was looking forward to going home to Nova Scotia to spend time with his family. He’s a fairly private person, not feeling the need to be on social media. His Foundation serves as his online presence but only to promote the work it does supporting children. Though his Olympic wins are something he regards with fondness, his true pride was opening a hockey school in his hometown of Halifax.

There was so much of Sidney that reminded you of Lance and you couldn’t help but think about him. He was always on your mind and though you wanted to reach out in the past in the hopes of reconciling again you didn’t. Lance didn’t want you.

Adjacent to the arena was the hotel everyone was staying in, celebrating their win with a spread of food and champagne. Nashville was famous for its delicious barbecue but right now your mind and taste buds were being blown away by hot chicken. Your nose was running, your fingers were coated with a delicious glaze that you sucked into your mouth. Still, you needed a napkin.

You stood up in search for more, because the singular one you initially took was not enough, passing loud and slightly tipsy players who were enjoying their win. Feeling your phone vibrate in your pocket you rushed to clean your hands, answering your mom’s call just in time.

It was hard to hear so you told her to hang on as you squeezed past a group of very large hockey players. You found yourself in a less noisy hallway and finally greeted her properly.

“Hi mom, what’s up?” you shouted, sticking your finger in your other ear to block out the background noise.

Your mother exhaled a heavy breath into the phone, her voice shaking with sorrow as she said, “Dorothy Tucker passed away.”

PART 18

#dragon’s3k3c #lance tucker x reader #lance tucker fanfiction #lance tucker x you #lance tucker fanfic

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mqtsuno · 2 years

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Hi scat fucker. So you got some new charanons as I can see, how're they doing? Do they know you have a very specific kink? Oh my, even a brand new Matsunon, brooo I'm so jealous of them. Joking, joking anons, have your fun with her. Y'all gonna suffer 😻😻 (mf Keisuke gotta fuck your poo to win you lmaoo) guys that's an advice don't come for me, I'm not disgusting, it's Kaze.

Since I don't have your notifications on anymore I didn't know you changed your @, I couldn't find your blog broo. I had to go to the top Chifuyu smut tag to find you and you weren't even the first blog to pop up. Are you really the real #1 Chifuyu Matsuno fucker? :/ You really became a date username blog, what did they do to you Kaze... Man I'm so confused with these numbers blogs.

MY GODDDFFF t____t

Shut the hell up you nasty little dumbfuck. I’m not gonna say that I miss you but (sadly) I do and it’s MAD embarrassing to say this but yeah, I do. I did.. I was but now that you came to my inbox I'm not gonna do shit anymore LMFAOO

AND STOP WITH THE SCAT THINGY I WAS NEVER INTO THAT YOU KNOW THAT ALR WHO THE FUCK GREETS SOMEONE WITH "Hi scat fucker." NO?? THATS THE FIRST THING YOU SAY TO ME AFTER ABOUT 3 WEEKS??

Are you perhaps jealous that I somehow got charanons even though I wasn't asking for any? Oh so brooo you're really jealous? FUCK YOU I'M NOT GONNA DO SHIT TO THEM WHAT THE FUCK I HATE YOU SO MUCH I'M NOT GONNA MAKE THEM SUFFER>!?@>/1 YOU were the one who made ME suffer with your regularly breaking up asks

No but fr I wasnt asking for any and I'm still keeping that promise to you (I said something about it when I replied your asks when you broke up with me damn)

Bro so if you couldn't find my blog, you didn't follow me or something? Bro.. that's just.. evil. I thought you were better than this *puppy eyes* ((im on pc i do not know how to open the emoji bar again))

and you weren't even the first blog to pop up. Are you really the real #1 Chifuyu Matsuno fucker? :/

Bro. I have 4 chifuyu smut inside my drafts is that not enough for me to explain that I AM a chifuyu fucker through and through.. ((one of them is hate sex to makeup sex btw)) ((can we do that))

WELL IT IS YOUR BIRTHDAY MAN WHY ARE YO ASKING ME THIS IS LIKE IM JUST PROVING MYSELF THAT I DEDICATE MYSELF TO A PERSON CALLED MATSUNO YOU KNOW

Okay, so please hear me out, my aim in calling you is to get back together with Chifuyu in my world, so if you can simply say "yes" to me, then I will officially get back together and I will no longer view him as my ex in my world (This is so cringy and embarrassing to say please bare with me for a sec), so could you please give me your approval ?????????

Don't make it hard for me AND SORRY ITS LONG I JUST NEED TO OKAY I MISSED YOU I MISS U I HOPE UR HEALTHY ILYY

#꒰ ｡ৎ୭﹒matsuno﹒ೇ ｡ ꒱#alternative : my favorite scat kinker ever

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resetmypatientviolence · 6 years

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Picture to Burn (Seth x MC x Matt)

Picture to Burn-- Part 1 of this fic series (I think?)

Word count: 1,499 Pairing: Seth x Terrance [MC] x Matt

Rating: PG13

Warnings: Language; Matt doesn’t actually make an appearance, FYI

Summary: How was Terrance supposed to leave Seth alone in after the disaster of a comedy show? For that matter, how could she NOT kiss him? She didn’t think anything of the paparazzi’s stolen picture until the next morning when everybody wants to know about her “Mystery Man”. It would all be okay, maybe even great, if she also didn’t have the same secret moments with Matt Rodriguez, the actor with a heart of gold.

Suggested Song Accompaniment: Bad at Love-- Halsey

Note: I have a name for my Drake x MC x Liam fic series (finally), “Supposed to Be” which you can find here. The 3rd chapter is coming soon! Thank you for your support of my writing! Enjoy!

Terrance pulled her head up, reluctantly; blonde curls falling over her bare shoulder, tank top strap slipped off her shoulder. The water Seth got for her before he headed back to his apartment was untouched. She groaned. At least her head wasn’t swirling. She had worse mornings.

Propping herself on an elbow, she grabbed the lukewarm water and drank it in big gulps, last night coming back into focus. Seth’s disaster of a show. The kiss in the dressing room. The first round of drinks. Then another. Then another bar. Then back to her apartment, ordering pizza, and drinking beers and watching D-grade movies. Kisses, and lots of them, some small and others deep and steamy, peppered between everything.

Finished, Terrance smiled to herself, setting the glass back on the nightstand. Seth was drunk too, but he still tucked her in, Terrance giggling the whole time, and gave her water. She touched her lips. She didn’t want him to go, stalling him with insistent kisses, but she grew too tired to keep up her resistance. Though, what were they waiting for?

Looking at the door, she sighed, quietly. Nothing was official with Matt… or him… but why did she feel so conflicted and guilty when she looked into Seth’s eyes? Why would she be breaking somebody’s heart eventually? Could she… not? “Or you can just stop kissing cute boys…” she muttered to herself, dragging herself out of bed. She came here to act, after all. Not be caught up in confusion, even if nothing was official. It felt so small town.

It was a quiet morning—she still had time before she had to be on set. Coffee brewing, Terrance showered, and changed, entering the kitchen just as the pot beeped. “Ugh, finally.” Pouring herself a cup, she sat on the counter and pulled out her phone for the first time. She used to scroll through it half asleep in bed… but ever since her newfound fame, she needed to be sharp—focused. Who knew if a another surprise interview would appear the morning of?

As the new usual, notifications everywhere. Thousands of followers. She posted a picture of her coffee. Likes, instantly. She exhaled, slow. It was… she didn’t know how to feel. Matt couldn’t even relate. A text, from Chazz, well, multiple.

Ter! Is that your neighbor??

Girl!! Spill!

Text me the second—and I mean—the second you wake up!!

Puzzled, she tilted her head. I do live by people, yeah.

In the picture!

What????????

“Oh, shit.” The photographer. Matt. Chazz sent the photo, accompanied by an article from TMZ. Hollywood’s Newest IT Girl and her Mystery Man—CAUGHT!

She rubbed her temple. There was no denying it was her, hair, smile and all. Their lips, barely touching, pulling away from the kiss, but the photographer still got the shot. Seth’s hands wrapped around her back, gripping the fabric of her dress, like he never wanted to let her go. She gulped and set the cup on the counter.

The tabloids picked it up. Want to know everything about him and you. My inbox is exploding. On my way to now to take you to your shoot—you have some answers to give.

What if there isn’t any?????

WTF TER?!

She slouched, sinking lower and lower into herself. “Shit,” she breathed. None of this would have mattered, of course, if she hadn’t been tangled up with Matt.

Matt was... amazing. New, fast paced, grand, and yet, genuine. It was like she could see through him and he to her. He wasn’t just an actor, he was a person who just wanted to feel normal once in a while. She knew he liked how she grounded him and made those parts of him flourish in their short time as more close than friends—and coworkers—should be.

Seth was also… amazing. Soft, gentle, funny, and familiar. Like home. That might be the Midwest connection, but it was deeper than that. She lost herself in his blue eyes and she would do anything to protect him, and him to her. With him, she felt at home, at ease, comfortable in the insanity of her new life.

Nothing was official with either. But, somehow, she felt that she picked the two men in Hollywood who might actually care if she was conflicted between two people. She should have told them, but life was coming at her all too fast. She just wanted to see them when she could and see if there was a connection for something more there. If there was. And for Matt… she could only hope he didn’t pay attention to the tabloids anymore. She’s rather tell him in person than have him see… that. The picture.

Another text notification. Not from Chazz. Matt. Her heart leapt to her throat. She was about to open it when the knocking started. “Coming!” She slid off the counter and nervously rubbed her hands together.

She opened it and there was Seth. He offered a smile. “Hey, Iowa, got some more coffee?”

She nodded stiffly. “Yeah, help yourself.” He walked in and she popped her head out into the hallway… just making sure nobody was there. There wasn’t.

Terrance bit her lip and joined him in the tiny kitchen, picking up her still warm cup. She really should write a book on how to feel like a shitty person within one minute. Bestseller. “Umm… so…” she started. “Thanks for the water, it was a lifesaver.”

Seth chuckled, eyes crinkling. “Always, Iowa.” They paused. Her phone on the counter with Matt’s text. “So… that picture….”

She shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Seth, I didn’t know that he’d follow me and get that and…”

“No, no, it’s okay. Well, I mean an invasion of our privacy, but look at this.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and showed her the screen, filled with notifications too. Texts, emails…. She squinted her eyes and cocked her head.

“They figured out my mystery man, huh?”

“Clubs are asking me—asking me—to do stand up for them. Can you believe it?” He sounded incredulous, but Terrance saw the smile on his lips. It warmed her heart. Well, maybe one good thing came from the picture. Could that outweigh the bad?

She kissed him on the cheek, smiling. He raised his eyebrows but then smiled, truly. “I’m happy that that happened, Seth. You deserve it.” He sipped his coffee, free hand tucking a wild curl behind her ear.

“The next thing… what do you want me to do next?”

“Hmm?”

“If people ask, I’ve got tabloids wanting to interview me, to give the scoop on you, us, and… it’s not my place to speak for you, if you want to say anything.” Her phone buzzed again. She broke her gaze from Seth’s blue eyes. Matt’s name, again. She frowned, heartbeat speeding. Oh god oh god oh god.

“I… it’s a little crazy, isn’t it?” she said, shaking her head. “Just a kiss and bam, suddenly everybody cares about my personal life. I shouldn’t be complaining… but…” Terrance trailed when his happy smile was gone. He stared into his coffee. She grit her teeth and replayed her words. Just a kiss.

Seth was still quiet. Her phone, buzzed, again. “Listen,” she said, moving next to him, nudging his side. “Please don’t talk to the tabloids. If… if this is something, let’s have this move at our pace, okay? Not what Hollywood wants.”

He nodded, looking at her now. “Will do, Iowa.” Then, he cupped her face, fingertips lingering on her skin before he kissed her lips, so gentle. So unlike the one kiss in the hallway of their apartment the moment they entered it last night…. Terrance shivered. “For the record, I do hope that this will be something, someday,” he said after the kiss.

Me too, Terrance wanted to say, but couldn’t because she wasn’t sure of the truth herself. Instead, she kissed him, biting his lower lip exactly how he liked it. A small moan from the base of his throat. And suddenly, she was writing the sequel of How to Feel Like a Shitty Person in One Minute, aptly titled How to Become a Bigger Piece of Shit Than You Already Are. “I think you have some new jokes to write up, Mystery Man,” she whispered.

He laughed, eyes twinkling, bright with possibility. “That I do, Iowa. Have a… er, story to tell when you get back from your shoot today.”

Terrance picked up her phone. It buzzed. Again. The third book of her human shit trilogy was on its way. “I’ll have a novel by the end of this movie.”

Seth grinned. “See you later, Terrance.” He kissed her cheek and headed out. Instantly, the ease, despite the situation at hand, disappeared. Terrance grit her teeth, and stared at her phone. Now or never.

Taking a deep breath, she swiped, opening up Matt’s messages.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in the fiction. All rights go to Pixelberry Studios.

#rcd #red carpet diaries #seth x mc #matt rodriguez x mc #matt x mc #pixelberry #choices #choices app #choices stories you play #rcd fanfic #red carpet diaries fanfic #fanfic #choices fanfiction #seth x mc x matt

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kayetaz · 6 years

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Even Robots Need Blankets | Newt x Reader

Request: Hey love. Can you do a Newt imagine where you ask him about his limp a few times so he shares it to you in private because he’s insecure and embarrassed about it? Kinda sad and fluffy? Weird request I know. - Anonymous

Warnings: Suicide mention Word count: 1,188

A/N: Thank you for the request! I honestly don’t even know how long this sat in my inbox because Tumblr mobile never gave me a notification. So if it was a long time, I am really sorry! It’s not a weird request though – I really like it. I hope I made it fluffy enough, and I hope you enjoy it!

Besides the three main Glader rules, there are dozens upon dozens of unspoken rules. Some examples being: not being out and about too late past sundown, not going into the map room unless you’re a Runner, and not asking a lot of questions, especially of Alby and his second-in-command, Newt. I was one of the worst culprits in the Glade for breaking these unspoken rules. However, having said second-in-command as my best friend was my way of avoiding discipline.

Newt and I are sitting in the forest with our lunch, as we usually do when Newt is feeling overwhelmed and has to get away from the majority of the population.

“...And then I found out the Builders were hiding two chickens in the shed to race around this stupid track they made and place bets on.”

“No way,” I retort, acting like this was news to me but silently cursing that I had probably lost the candy bar I put in on the hen missing a toe.

Newt then searches through his pocket and pulls out a foil packet, dropping the candy bar in my lap with a fake disappointed expression. “One of these days, Alby is going to be the one who catches you in one of your schemes, (Y/N), and you’ll be in the pit faster than you can bat those eyelashes of yours.”

I giggle in response and lean forward to kiss his cheek playfully, but he just rolls his eyes and pushes me away. I break the chocolate and give him half as a peace offering, which seems to suffice enough as an apology for now.

“You let this place get to you too much,” I say, leaning back further against the tree while I let the chocolate begin to overwhelm my senses until I see Newt visibly stiffen at my words. “What?”

“We should get back to work,” Newt says, changing the subject.

He stands up and grabs my hands to help pull me up, not meeting my eyes. He has to stretch out his bad leg a bit before we start walking because it had cramped up during lunch. After a few seconds, we begin to head towards the Glade again. Newt groans a bit while he limps forward.

“Are you ever going to tell me what happened to your leg?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the ground in front of me.

This wasn’t the first, second, third, or even fiftieth time I’ve asked him that question. He never answers though, telling me either he’s too busy or that I’m not ready to hear it. It seems like now or never, as we are both on break and I’m as ready as ever to know why my best friend is in pain all the time.

“Do we have to do this now, (Y/N)?” he questions, sounding a little annoyed.

I stop and wait for him to do the same and meet my eyes. “We could have done this a year ago when I asked the first time.”

He sighs, biting his lip and looking around at our surroundings, trying to find the right words. “It’s kind of like you said – I let this place get to me too much.”

I wait for him to continue but he doesn’t. “That’s it? That’s all you’re giving me?”

“I don’t really know how to explain,” he pleads, exasperated.

I walk forward and take his hands, staring into his kind brown eyes. “You can tell me anything. I will never judge you.”

He stares back long enough for me to see tears begin to brim his waterline. As the first tear hits his cheek, I pull him into a hug and feel my own eyes begin to water. I have never seen Newt cry, and the sight of it makes me never want to see it again. It absolutely broke my heart.

“I tried to kill myself,” he almost whispers into my ear.

“What?” I gasp and pull back, looking into his sad eyes again.

He tries to look down at the ground but I grab his chin so he has to keep looking into my eyes. I want him to see that I care, and that I’m not judging him, but just upset that someone as lovely as him could be in a place so dark.

“About a year and a half before you arrived, Chuck came up. He was the youngest of us, and the most curious, and the most scared. Before anyone could talk to him, he booked into the maze as I was just coming out of it for the day, back when I used to be a Runner. I grabbed him and talked to him until he was calm and then I gave him the tour myself. I guess it made him kind of look up to me. So everyday, for a year, he would ask me if I found anything in the maze, and everyday I had to look into his sad eyes and tell him ‘no’. When the twelfth Greenie popped up after him, marking a year, was the day he stopped asking me.”

His cheeks are wet with tears, despite me trying to wipe them away every time one falls. He takes a shaky breath and I entwine my fingers in his to encourage him to continue.

“So that night I thought about how after two years, we still hadn’t found a way out. I thought about how George was stung and how that would probably be my fate one day. I thought about how Chuck would most likely never see his mom, who he talked about constantly despite not being able to remember her. I just thought of how useless I was, and how I wasn’t helping anyone. The next day, I ran into the maze, went to the wall where the ivy ran the highest, climbed, and then jumped.”

A whine escapes my throat despite how hard I tried to keep it down. Newt refuses to meet my eyes, instead looking down at our intertwined hands.

“Newt,” I whisper, but his gaze remains downward.

I say his name again, and again, and about ten or so times but he still won’t look at me, so I come up with a different plan. I lean forward and touch my lips to his until I feel him press back. His hands leave mine and grab my cheeks as my arms wrap around his neck. His thumbs run along under my eyes, wiping away my tears. When the need for air becomes too much, we pull apart and he finally looks at me.

“You’re not useless, Newt,” I tell him, my voice cracking a bit. “You’re the most important person in this Glade, because you care the most about everyone. And even if there is no way to leave this God-forsaken maze, I need you to know that your life matters. It matters to every single person in this place. It matters to me.”

“Thank you, (Y/N),” he whispers, tilting down to capture my lips again.

We decide to play hooky from work the rest of the day.

The end.

Requests open.

#newt imagine #newt x reader #the maze runner #the maze runner imagine #thomas brodie sangster #thomas sangster #newt #alby imagine #chuck imagine #even robots need blankets #even robots needs blankets imagine #mayday parade #mayday parade lyrics

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velvetchen · 7 years

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Anonymous | pt. i

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Scenario: Tumblr AU Pairing: Chanyeol/Reader Word Count: 1671 Rating: T

Summary: You just shot to tumblr fame when the latest chapter of your webtoon went viral. Messages start flooding in – hundreds of people saying things good and bad alike. One anon catches your eye, and you find you just have to reply to them…

next part >>

You found out when your friends all started calling you. That morning, you woke to your phone bursting with notifications – your twitter, tumblr, texts, everything. You picked up your friend Jia’s next call, your groggy hello met with the sound of her excited screaming. “Y/N! You’re famous! You’re all over the internet today?”

Groaning, you rolled over and checked the time. 8:37, too early for anything. “What?”

“I said, you’re internet famous,” she said. “Strawberry Shortcake just hit it big.”

That shot you awake. You jolted upright and pulled your laptop towards you, logging in and opening your tumblr. “What? Oh my god.”

“I know!” Jia squealed. “Oh my god! You totally deserve it, Y/N, you’ve worked so hard on it. Congratulations!”

Your activity page had numbers you’d never seen before. Reblogs with comments. Your inbox, full. You felt dizzy. “I’ll call you back, Jia,” you said. You didn’t wait before you hung up.

What had just happened?

Opening a new tab, you typed ‘strawberry shortcake tumblr’ into the search bar – and nearly fainted at the results. The first link was your tumblr. The second was an article about it. About you. About your webtoon.

You didn’t know what to feel. The webtoon you’d been working on for more than six months, so far resigned to a few reblogs and barely more than five hundred followers, was suddenly famous.

We Can’t Get Over This Super Cute Romance Webtoon, And Chances Are You Won’t Either

Strawberry Shortcake, a super sweet love story written and illustrated by the owner of the strawberryshortcakecomic tumblr – known only as S – is something we just can’t get enough of. The cute story, light humor and to-die-for cold-hearted, bad-boy-with-a-heart-of-gold love interests will have you rushing through the chapters and smiling like a fool. The webtoon is available in English on Tumblr and translated to Korean on LINE Webtoon.

You scrolled down to the comments.

iluvBTSxox: aha wow so cute ~ ^o^ prettyboy88: ㅋㅋㅋ so nice blossom3bunny: i love it so much, thanks mika-chan for recommending it~~~

So that was how it had gone viral. Mika-chan, another webtoon artist, ultra-famous for her anime-style webcomics on LINE and tumblr. You felt flattered beyond belief. Immediately, you pulled up her tumblr – and there it was – her reblog of your latest episode along with the caption “one of my favorite webtoons ;o;”.

strawberryshortcakecomic asked: mika-chan!!! Thank you so much for liking my webtoon ;;;;;; I’m so happy you liked it <3 I hope you enjoy my work in the future too!

You’re welcome ㅋㅋㅋ it’s very cute

You couldn’t believe she had replied to you. Much less reblogged your work. It felt surreal. Opening your tumblr inbox, you got to work answering, still on the high of your newfound fame.

Anonymous asked: author-nim~~~~ the last chapter is so nice, please update, when does jinho take yoon ah on the date

I will be updating soon! thank you for liking it

Anonymous asked: that lake scene is so sweet omg

Haha I know right! Thanks :)

Anonymous asked: I CAN’T WAIT ANY LONGER OH GOD THE FEELS!!!

You won’t have to wait much longer, the next chapter will be up soon !!

You moved to the kitchen with your laptop, setting it down on the counter and opening the fridge to get some yogurt and fruit for breakfast. You sat back down immediately, intent on answering as many new messages as you could.

snsd-superfan asked: i love jinho he’s so hot ugh

;)

Anonymous asked: mika-chan brought me here and can I just say I’m in love with you and your work

Thanks! Love you too anon

The next message stood out, because while so far you had only seen one-liner compliments and messages about your work, this one was much longer. You read on, intrigued:

Anonymous asked: Dear S, I’ve been following you almost since the beginning of Strawberry Shortcake and I wanted to congratulate you on your newfound and very well-deserved fame! I know how hard you’ve worked and how much effort you put into making the chapters for us, your readers. I’m so happy to see you get the fame you were destined for! Now, about the last chapter, hmm. I feel like something is going on with Seong-jin...is he plotting something behind Yoon-ah’s back? Sincerely, C

You thought a minute before you wrote out your reply, pausing in between words to make sure it was perfect. This ‘C’ person had obviously put a lot of thought into their message. At least that’s what it looked like.

Dear C, Thank you very much for your long and thoughtful message! Honestly, I feel extremely surprised. I don’t know what to do with all this fame, haha. I’m so flattered you think I deserve it, and that you’re a long time fan. How long have you been here?

As for the plot...you’ll just have to wait and see. I have a lot of things in store for Seong-jin!

Love, S

You continued scrolling through your inbox, but that was the only message of its kind - which only made you more intrigued. When a reply popped up, you felt yourself swell with a strange excitement.

Anonymous asked: Dear S, you’re very welcome for the praise ^^ I’m sure things will only get better from here. I meant it when I said you deserved all the fame. I’ve been following your blog since the third or fourth episode I think. That was a long time ago! You’ve come so far since then. Your art has improved a lot too. I can’t wait to see what you have planned for Seong-jin. He’s my favorite character (yes, I don’t like Jin-ho! I think he is too perfect...something’s wrong...haha) Sincerely, C

Was it too soon for you to reply? Shrugging, you started typing anyway.

Dear C,

Aw thank you, you’re making me blush lol. Thanks so much for your support! And wow, since the third episode? I don’t even remember that far back, you’re right when you say we’ve come a long way. Thanks for the comment on my art, do you really think so?

I should be offended you don’t like Jin-ho, but maybe you’re on to something ;) kidding, kidding, I don’t want to give away any spoilers. Seong-jin is my favorite character too, he’s very close to me. He was the first character I came up with for SS. At first he was going to be my main character but I made Yoon-ah the main character at the last minute.

Love, S

Anonymous asked: Dear S, I clearly remember the day I found your comic. It was actually reblogged by one of my real-life friends. I was crazy about webtoons so I was super excited to find a new one to read. You didn’t disappoint :) Am I really on the right track about Jin-ho? I mean, he is a vampire, but he still doesn’t have any flaws. I’m guessing that’s intentional. Maybe he’s hiding some dark secret lololol. I hope Yoon-ah ends up with neither of them though, they’re not that nice to her :( Sincerely, C

Dear C,

Oh, please thank your friend then! They must have known me from my other blog ^^

You’re right, it is intentional, but there aren’t any dark secrets coming up...yet. Haha. Jin-ho is that very cliche k-drama character isn’t he! Hot and cold and handsome as hell. I have a lot of fun drawing him. ;) And yeah, neither of them treat Yoon-ah right, but that’s plot progression for you. I’ve already confirmed on this blog that she will end up with one of the two. The ending is still a long ways away but I hope it’s satisfactory!

Love, S

Anonymous asked: Dear S, yes, I’ve been following your other blog too since then! You’re very private haha. But you’re very nice and friendly too ^^ Jin-ho is total eye-candy! My friend has lots of screenshots of all the shower scenes lol. She sends them to me. He is definitely a cliche character, but those can be very fun to read and write too. Even if there aren’t any dark secrets I’m sure he’s still hiding something. Oh well, I hope Yoon-ah ends up with the right one then. I like her a lot and hope she gets a good relationship. I don’t doubt in your ability at all to come up with an amazing ending :) Sincerely, C

Dear C,

Am I private? I guess I must be, since I don’t even have a proper pen name! Aww, you think I’m nice and friendly, thanks, you’re not too bad yourself :)

Your friend has good taste lol. I’ll draw more shower scenes just for her ;) You’re right about cliche characters not having to be one-dimensional. I put a lot of thought into Jin-ho when I was creating him and he’s actually very similar to me. Stubborn, secretly caring, introverted (unfortunately not I’m not as hot lmao). You seem to know a bit about this writing thing, do you write?

Yoon-ah will get the happy ending she deserves! She’s my precious little flower baby.

Love, S

Anonymous said: Dear S, it’s okay, you can be as private as you want,. I’m just warning you that fans can get a little crazy about finding out who you are...so be careful. No, I don’t write, unless you count writing music, which is a lot different from making webtoons I imagine :) Are you really similar? I guess I’ll have to start paying more attention to Jin-ho from now on. Sincerely, C

Dear C,

Thanks a lot for the warning! (wow, do you have experience with this fame thing?) I know, just a couple of hours since the explosion and I’m already getting hate. Writing music could be like making a webtoon, hmm...you’re making a story without words. Or with only dialogue. Huh, I guess not really.

Oh no, have I revealed too much? ;)

Why don’t you come off anon? I’d love to talk to you some more.

Love, S

a/n so a little background - like all the scenarios i’ll write this is set in an ambiguous location with no set culture/mix of cultures, so you can take it to be anywhere (i intended korea). webtoons esp. romancey webtoons however are pretty popular in korea so a bunch of the comments and etc will be like on a korean website. after this part the story will mostly be told through a collection of messages, articles, posts & dialogue. also i know asks don’t let u write that much but bear with me ok

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biofunmy · 5 years

Text

Give your iPhone a makeover with these 13 tips

Using a few iPhone tips, you may not need the newest version because your phone still works well. USA TODAY

Apple is hosting its customary September product unveiling for the news media next week signaling the imminent arrival of the newest iPhones. But the latest hardware is only part of the story, and not the biggest part at that if you plan to sit out this next buying cycle and instead focus on what you could to do to add features and breathe new life into your current iPhone.

The way to do that is to install iOS 13 when it is officially released in the next few weeks, since this freshest version of Apple’s free mobile operating system is compatible with models dating as far back as 2015’s iPhone 6s and 6s Plus.

Some of the coming features that have claimed a fair bit of early attention include an optional darker design aesthetic, the promise of faster speeds and better privacy and security, “look around” Maps, a swipe-able QuickPath keyboard, a Photos app makeover with new editing tools for video, and – one I’m particularly excited about – the ability to automatically dispatch incoming calls from robocallers or other unknown numbers directly to voicemail without ringing your phone.

Apple has revamped the look of its Photos app in iOS 13. (Photo: Apple)

But there’s a lot of other new features that are more under the radar, though for some of the iPhone faithful anyway, no less helpful to have around. And taken as a whole iOS 13 represents a pretty vast upgrade, and I see little risk in installing the software when it is available.

I’ve been running beta versions most of the summer and for the most part like the changes I’ve seen.

With that, here are 13 features or tips that might make your new or older iPhone more useful or productive.

1. Finding a lost iPhone

Apple has long offered a feature called Find My iPhone which can help you track and retrieve a lost device remotely, provided your missing handset is connected to the Internet and picked up by a Good Samaritan willing to arrange a return. Find My iPhone is now part of a newly revamped and named Find My app that also incorporates what had been a separate Find Friends app. Anyway, you may now have a puncher’s chance of finding the lost phone even if your device is not connected to Wi-Fi or cellular. How so? The phone can emit Bluetooth signals that may be detected by other iPhones in the vicinity, which can then relay the lost device’s location.

Battery settings in iOS 13. (Photo: Edward C. Baig)

2. Optimized battery charging

Nobody wants a battery that poops out too soon. If you flip on the optimized battery charge feature added with iOS 13 – head to Settings then Battery Health – the iPhone is supposed to learn from your daily charging routine over time so that it can wait to finish charging above the 80% level until you need to use it. This is supposed to slow the battery aging process.

You can switch Wi-Fi networks within Control Center in iOS 13. (Photo: Edward C. Baig)

3. A more controllable Control Center

Control Center is the handy toolbox of controls and tools: screen brightness, calculator, flashlight, music player, Do Not Disturb, airplane mode and more. You summon it by swiping down from the upper right portion of the screen on the iPhone X or later models or by swiping up from the bottom on older iPhones, all without having to dig deeper into the iPhone settings. With iOS 13, Apple has improved it. Most useful of all: You’ll no longer have to go to settings to scan for and switch Wi-Fi networks or Bluetooth connections. Instead, press down on the section of the Control Center with such wireless settings to change your network or Bluetooth devices right then and there.

Employees are planted with chips: Wisconsin workers embedded with microchips

4. Moving the cursor

On the surface, this is a small change, but I’m all in. You can move the cursor more quickly and with more precision by simply dragging it to where you want it to be on a line. You won’t have to tap and hold the screen and drag the magnifier loupe that was previously required. It’s gone.

5. Three-finger shortcuts

If you take three fingers and swipe from right to the left on the screen you can “Undo” the last thing you did. Swiping from left to right instead, adds back what you just took away. You can also Undo by double-tapping on the screen with three fingers. I find these gestures much simpler than shaking the iPhone to initiate Undo and Redo commands, which by the way you can still do. Apple’s three-finger monte in iOS 13 doesn’t end there. For example, you can pinch up with three fingers to quickly copy, pinch up with three fingers two times to cut, and pinch down with three fingers to paste.

6. Block unwanted Mail senders

Welcome addition: You can have all the mail sent by a particular sender blocked and routed to trash. Select the address and choose “Block this Contact.” This works across all your Apple devices.

7. Mute Mail notifications threads

You were once an active participant in an email thread but no longer so, and find the ongoing notifications that keep piping up a pain. Apple’s solution is to let you mute such notifications. From the Mail app inbox, swipe part of the way from right to left across a message that represents the thread and tap More. Then tap Mute from the pop-up menu that appears (or Unmute should you eventually choose to rejoin the conversation).

In iOS 13, Apple has added easier ways to format email. (Photo: Apple)

8. Easier formatting in Mail

iOS 13 makes it much simpler to dress up and format your email messages. Start composing a message and select some text. A new format bar appears above the keyboard letting you bold, italicize, or underline text or add a strikethrough. Available controls also let you can change fonts, colors, text size. And you can more easily add photos, drawings or attachments too.

Safari lets you apply controls to specific sites as part of iOS 13. (Photo: Edward C. Baig)

9. Per site website controls

Inside the Safari browser, you can now make specific choices for specific websites. That is you can allow a given site to access the phone’s camera, microphone and location or refuse such access. You can also determine for individual sites whether Safari will automatically display the “desktop” or mobile-optimized version of the sites (assuming there’s more than one such view). Or choose whether articles will appear in a reader-friendly mode that strips out ads.

10. File downloads in Safari

Apple’s Safari web browser in iOS 13 now includes a helpful download manager. Just tap on a link in the browser and (by default) the file will be downloaded onto iCloud Drive. Changes to your downloads folder will sync across all your iCloud devices.

11. Do Not Disturb While Driving

It’s been a couple of years since Apple added the Do Not Disturb While Driving feature to help you avoid distractions when you take the wheel. In iOS 13, Apple will let you automatically activate the feature in CarPlay. What’s more, the company says it will no longer turn on the feature when you’re riding as a passenger in public transit. The iPhone has often thought I was driving when in fact I was a passenger on a bus.

Apple has improved Screen Time in IOS 13. (Photo: Apple)

12. ‘One more minute’ in Screen Time

Introduced last year, Apple’s Screen Time tools provide valuable insight into how much and where you (and the kids) are spending time on the phone, and it offers some tools to help you all go on a digital diet. It remains to be seen how effective this will prove to be, but among the improvements coming to Screen Time in iOS 13, is the ability to request one more minute to wrap up what you’re doing and save your work before an app limit you’ve established kicks in. While you’re at it, you now have more control about the limits you do set. For instance, you can combine app limits for specific apps, apps categories or websites. Be forewarned: Your kids may not be happy.

Voice Control settings inside iOS 13. (Photo: Edward C. Baig)

13. Voice control

Though Voice Control is found under the numerous accessibility tools and options Apple provides, anyone might choose to use it from time to time. For instance, you can use your voice to swipe, pinch, zoom, or perform other gestures. Or you might talk aloud to open apps by name, adjust the volume of the phone, tap buttons, take a screenshot, dictate or edit text and more. Get started by tapping on Settings, then Accessibility, then Voice Control. Or ask Siri to turn Voice Control on or off.

Email: [email protected]; Follow @edbaig on Twitter.

Baig is coauthor of iPhone For Dummies, an independent work published by Wiley.

Read or Share this story: https://www.usatoday.com/story/tech/columnist/baig/2019/09/03/ios-13-hidden-ways-get-most-out-your-iphone/2165746001/

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studyfeather · 7 years

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I just wanted to say I love your bullet journal and ask if you have any tips for starting a tumblr in general. I've seen your studyblr intro/advice post and it was so helpful to me, but I'm just starting my studyblr and already a bit lost as to how to navigate everything. Thanks in advance!

Hey there! (and omg you’re so sweet lskdjflk) I’m not the greatest when it comes to tumblr, but hopefully I can still help you out! I’ll share some navigation tips and some starting tumblr advice!

➸ Starting a Tumblr

Make a memorable username

The more memorable and simple your username, the better!

Alongside this, a lot of people may associate you with your icon! So it can be disconcerting to some if your icon changes frequently.

It’s also best if you stick to one username. You are able to change your username, but if anyone takes your previous username, they may think it is you. (But if you do change your username, make sure your followers know about it!)

Find/make a desktop theme that is user friendly, and pleasant to look at.

There’s nothing more frustrating (to me) to come across a blog that, no matter how much I try, I can’t seem to navigate it well. Or, if a blog has a displeasing color combination.

Usually I like to see a search bar, a navigation bar, a clean theme, and a place where I can easily see how to go to the next page.

It’s even better if your theme matches what type of blog you’re running, or some of your big interests.

As you’re running a studyblr, I’ve found that lights, whites, and pastels with a minimal layout tend to be the norm.

Remain active

The best way for anyone to get the most out of their tumblr experience is to remain active. Reach out to others with similar interests, add comments to a thread, post original content, etc.

People WANT to follow other people who will be active. See it this way - it may be better to follow 5 active people, than 10 inactive people.

Interact with your followers. Host giveaways (if you can afford it), do blog compliments or blog rates. Ask questions or something to get some sort of feedback.

Maintain some sort of vibe that people know you are approachable! And kind!

Be sure to tag your posts

The best way for your blog and your content to be noticed, is to tag your posts with relevant search terms.

Quite a bit of people won’t use tags by way of people to find their posts. Instead, it will also be a place to add additional information, personal feelings, rants, if it’s a tangent to what the post is about, etc. Sometimes it can be important to read what others have to say in the tags.

➸ Navigating Tumblr

Honestly, as a major tip, making sure you become familiar with how tumblr works. Settings (and how to change your settings), how to make posts, tag usage, themes, etc - and be sure to make use of it. I’ll share some tumblr basics.

Disclaimer: I use Windows 10 for desktop, and have an Android phone, so some things I say might not be cohesive. I’m also no tumblr master (and have googled how to do things more than I’d like to admit OTL) For the most part, I will be describing how to do things on a computer, and not on mobile - unless specified otherwise.

➸ Tumblr on a Computer

Let’s start with the super basics - the bar in the top right hand corner.

Dashboard

This is where you can see the content from the people you follow. What they post and what they reblog. If you follow tags, they will occasionally show up (and will specify somewhere if they are from a tag you follow - and not from a blog you follow).

The dashboard is what you are defaulted to when you type “tumblr.com” - if you’re logged in, that is.

There will be a number that pops up above the dashboard icon. This number tells you there’s x amount of posts that people you follow have reblogged/made you haven’t seen yet. You can refresh your dashboard by pressing the icon, and it will bring you to the top.

Explore

The explore will lead you to a separate page. This will give you different options for you to explore a little bit more with posts that are more tailored to you. I haven’t used this tab, but it can be a good way to find more of what’s out there.

Inbox

This is where you will find all of your asks. A number will pop up if you have new asks, but the number will disappear if you have seen it. (So even if you have not answered the ask but have seen it, the number won’t stay - but you can still access the ask, ofc.)

If you have multiple blogs for one account, you can access asks for each blog separately, or all together (option to do so will be on the right).

If you want to add tags to your asks, you can do the following:

Post your answer and later edit the post, adding tags.

Hold alt down - this will turn the “answer privately” option into a “save as draft” option. Go to your drafts (account -> drafts). Edit post, add tags, post.

Messaging

Tumblr’s way of insant messaging! It keeps track of all the people you’ve messaged, and is a way for you to start a new conversation (messaging -> new message).

If you have a new message, a number will appear on the message icon, and will disappear once you’ve viewed it.

If you do talk to people on your computer, their icons will show up on the right and will stack up on the right side of your screen. You don’t have to have it up (just click x on the messaging box once it’s pulled up), but it can be a super quick way to frequently message someone!

Activity

This is how you will see all the activity that involves you, what you’ve reblogged (if it’s been reblogged from you, that is), asks, etc. If you click the activity icon, you’ll see a little bit of your activity.

If you click the “see everything” option at the bottom, you’ll be directed to a different page, where you can scroll down and see more of your activity. You will also see some more information you can mess around with.

You may notice some activity will be highlighted in different colors.

blue = people who you follow

purple = you’ve been tagged/mentioned

You can also see if people have added a caption and what they said. (not sure how to describe it though, but the notification will the thicker, have a bar beside what they’ve said).

You will also see what each activity notice is, and it will show in the user’s icon in the bottom right.

red/heart = like

green/arrows = reblog

blue/+ = follow

blue/speech bubble = comment on a post

purple/@ = tagged/mentioned

black/? = ask received

black/curved arrow = ask answered (you’ll only receive this if you ask publicly. if you ask anonymously, you won’t get a notification)

Account

This is where you can find different information concerning your account and some quick links.

Access your likes

See who you’re following

Settings

Help Center

See what you’ve posted on your blog (does not take you to your page)

Your followers

Activity

Drafts

Queue

Click here to manage queue options and see what is in your queue.

Edit appearance

Side blogs

Make a Post

It’s just as it says - this is where you go when you want to make a post. You will be given seven different options. You have seven different options to optimize how to share your content. (I don’t really use any option other than the text/photo - so I apologize if anything I say is incorrect)

Text

You can see different options how to to customize your text. You can have a title, header, bold, italicize, add links, make bullets, etc. If you highlight your intended text, you will find different options that will pop up. You can do that, OR type in the format manually. Here’s a guide that may help you:

@/unwrapping’s text formatting guide

Photo

Use this to add photos from your computer, or add a photo using an image url.

You can also add a photo (from your device) if you see a + on the side of your post. Click that, and you’ll have even more options, including adding a photo.

To add a photo from the web, you can also copy/paste the image. Where you would like it.

Quote

This will automatically add quotation marks, and give you a place where to supply the quote’s source.

Link

Share any link. Typically to an external source.

Chat

Uses a different font than a normal text post, meant to mimic a conversation.

Audio

Share a song via url.

Video

Upload a video, or share a video from online.

Now to the top left - the search bar.

Search Bar

As it says, this is what allows you to search tumblr.

Tumblr runs on tags. When you add a tag to an original post, this allows for it to be searchable. If anyone searches that tag, your post will end up somewhere.

To track a tag, enter something in the search bar. There will be an option beside it that says “follow.” Click that.

If you track tags, they will show up once you begin typing. You can easily find your tracked tags this way!

You can also search for tumblr accounts by searching their usernames, and they will appear at the top.

The tumblr logo on the side will lead you to your dashboard.

➸ Give yourself a URL, icon, and theme!

URLs

You can change your url/username at any given time, and how ever many times you want. To change your url:

On desktop: Go to account -> edit apperance -> click your blog on the side (it will be on the right hand side, under the separate settings tabs) -> username. You’ll see a pencil on the right beside your url, and there you can change it.

Your old url will be locked (meaning no one else can use that url) for 24 hours - but after that, anyone can take it. If you don’t want anyone to use your old url, you can always make a sideblog and leave it unattended.

If you want to see your blog, simply type (username here).tumblr.com - i.e. mine would be studyfeather.tumblr.com. If you know someone’s tumblr username (their url), you can easily find their blog by using this method. You can also use this method to see if anyone has a username you want.

Icon

To set an icon for yourself (and how to change it) go to account -> edit apperance -> click blog on right side (as described in the url section) -> edit appearance. Click the pencil that’s on top of your icon.

You will also have the option to give your icon a circle or a square shape - whichever you like best!

Theme

Desktop Theme:

In order to give yourself a desktop theme, as far as I’m aware, you’ll need access to a computer. Go to your tumblr page. You’ll see in the top right corner a button that says “edit theme.” OR you can go to account -> edit appearance -> your blog -> website theme -> edit theme.

Here you can browse themes, make a customizable theme, edit your theme, add pages, etc.

There will be a bunch of themes that you can find by browsing themes (as described above) but … it honestly won’t give you many options you might like (and some you have to purchase). Here’s some other places you can go to to find themes:

@theme-hunter

@neonbikethemes

Here you can find more free tumblr themes - but be sure to follow their rules/terms of service/guidelines/etc.

You can also find themes (or blogs that share themes) by searching tumblr.

If you want to learn how to code tumblr themes, @buildthemes helps teach how.

Mobile Theme:

Your mobile theme and desktop theme are two separate things. One is what will be seen on mobile, the other on desktop. To change your mobile theme (on desktop) go to:

account -> edit appearance -> select blog -> edit appearance.

Here you can change your banner image, icon image, background color, and choose an accent color. This will be what other’s will see when they come across your

➸ Settings

Go through your settings and be thorough in doing so. Find settings by clicking account -> settings. You have settings for: your account, dashboard, notifications, apps, labs, your blogs. Make sure everything is how you see fit.

➸ Finding your way around other people’s blogs

You’re wanting to send an ask but … you can’t find their ask page?

Type in the following: username.tumblr.com/ask . If their asks are closed, nothing may show up.

You’re wanting to search something but … there’s no search bar?

You can search their blog using a url instead! For instance, if you wanted to search for my original content on my blog, you can find it by typing studyfeather.tumblr.com/tagged/featherpost ! the /tagged allows for you to earch for a tag.

If you are searching for something with a space, a “_” (an underscore) serves as a space. For example: studyfeather.tumblr.com/tagged/monthly_spread

Want a quicker way to look at a blog?

Type username.tumblr.com/archive . This will show you all that user has posted and reblogged with some sort of image or cropped text, posts being separated by months. Can be pretty convenient when trying to find something you only remember distantly.

➸ Become familiar with ways you can access tumblr, and how each device works best for you

Once you become familiar with tumblr on one device, make sure you know how to access everything you need on other devices as well. (imo) Each device has its pros and cons - but if I had to choose, I would say a desktop/laptop as my #1 choice.

Laptop

I use my laptop mainly to make posts (I’ve found making posts elsewhere can be screwy), access posts I’ve been mentioned in, or posts to comment on. I also prefer answering any messages here!

Phone

I use my phone when I’m on the go, and, for the most part, reblog everything using my phone (add tags, and add to my queue, and check my tracked tags).

Other Devices

I don’t have any other devices, but that shouldn’t limit you either. Work with whatever suits you best!

Hope this helps? Honestly, it takes a little bit of roaming and messing around to get the hang of things, in my opinion. But best of luck Meg, you’re going to do great! ^7

#I hope I wasn't too redundant oops #or that everything I said was already common knowledge #I was so lost when I first started tumblr too lskdfjlk #still am a little bit ahaa #masterpost #text #featherpost #ask #answered #meg-is-studying #studyblrmasterposts #helpful #new studyblr #navigating tumblr #advice #tips

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