#edit: FUCK I FORGOT NOTE COUNTS ON SOME OF THEM. EDITED THOUGH IT MAY BE TOO LATE
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It's 2012 somewhere. Welcome.... to Night Vale Tumblr.
👁️ nvcr-official
Hi guys! I'm Intern Sarah! Excited to be joining you all!
👁️ nvcr-official
To the friends and family of Intern Sarah, she was a good intern and social media manager, and we are sorry to see her go. We will work to find a new intern as soon as possible.
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🦉 dark-owl-records
CALL OUT POST FOR CECIL PALMER
hes gotten away with shit for too long and im sick of it. tl;dr horrific intern mistreatment with no compensation, mountain denier, homophobic
keep reading
❌ number-one-moonhater Follow
Hey uh. Aren't you a company account? Why are you posting this
🦉 dark-owl-records
L + ratio + god forbid women do anything + your music taste is trash
🙈 seesomethingsaynothing Follow
Isn't Cecil literally gay?
🦉 dark-owl-records
he's homophobic
🪼 jeebyfish Follow
he has a husband...
🦉 dark-owl-records
yeah and he won't fucking shut up about it
2,500 notes
🤫 cecils-private-blog
Carlos hasn't liked any of my woodcarving posts in THREE DAYS!! I'm so scared what if he's going to break up with me :((
👁️ nvcr-official
Cecil he's your husband he's not breaking up with you. also this isn't a private blog you just put private in the url
🤫 cecils-private-blog
HOW DID YOU SEE THIS
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🏜️ sandeater Follow
tamika flynn spotted in ralph's dairy aisle "slaying" the milk
🦂 scorpiansscuttle Follow
op i know this is a joke but one time i was in the ralphs dairy aisle and there was some butter up on a really high shelf and someone said "don't worry, i'll get it" and i turned around and it was fucking tamika flynn
☁️ average-weather-enjoyer Follow
fake story :/
📚 isurvivedthesummerreadingprogram
No it's true I was there
🚂 traintonowhere Follow
TAMIKA FLYNN??
🏜️ sandeater Follow
what the fuck is happening on my post
8,345 notes
👁️ nvcr-official
can you guys please stop sending cecil weird shit... i don't want to have to explain to my boss what a dilf is
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🐚 mariella-shella
Hey guys!! Sorry for the lack of posts recently! I entered a hole in the wall and when I got out I realized I didn't know how long I'd been in there, or where I was, or who I am, and I'm not sure that I'm still the person who entered that hole however long ago. Anyway, the normal posting schedule will resume as soon as I remember what my normal posting schedule was, and if I'm still the person who had that posting schedule!
🌪️ sandstorm-gf Follow
omg mariella!!! missed u so much girl glad ur back!
🐚 mariella-shella
i miss me too
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😎 Anonymous asked:
Response to the homophobic allegations?
🎙️ cecilpalmer
Huh??
🎙️ cecilpalmer
@nvcr-official What does this mean? Is it new slang?
👁️ nvcr-official
uhhhh dont worry about it buddy
50 notes
🧤 missy-mittens Follow
hey guys im in quarantine for eating wheat and wheat byproducts uh...send asks?? i might be in here for a while lmaooo
🧤 missy-mittens Follow
oh lights in the sky its been 5 years since i made this post
☁️ glowcloudapologist Follow
how's it going op
🧤 missy-mittens Follow
i miss my family
506 notes
🐚 mariella-shella Follow
hey if anyone remembers anything about the person running this blog can you tell me? trying to recover the fragments of my identity from the void of memory lol
🥔 potato-enthusiast Follow
you were really hot
🐚 mariella-shella Follow
FUCK YEAHHHHHH
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🦉 a-weird-bird Follow
just a reminder that new residents of east night vale are fully welcome to interact with this blog!!!! you will not be harassed and any hate will be blocked. this blog is safe even if this town isn't sometimes <3
🌻 sunflowergirl Follow
This is so sweet, thank you so much! Just so you know, even though it's officially called East Night Vale now, a lot of people still call it Desert Bluffs! Just thought you might want to know :)
🦉 a-weird-bird Follow
i'm not calling it that sorry
🌻 sunflowergirl Follow
What??? Why??
🦉 a-weird-bird Follow
just kind of sucks. as a name
🌻 sunflowergirl Follow
?????????
170 notes
🐄
⬜️ kentuckymeatshower_deactivated11051983
what does this mean....
🌌 cece-xeze Follow
another great post from huntokar herself
16,683 notes
🚁 helicopters-in-your-area Follow
🌲 little-miss-ectoplasm Follow
you don't like pine cliff? 👻 oo ooo?
👁️ nvcr-official
NIGHT VALE SWEEEEEP
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😁 the-happy-smiler Follow
Hi everyone!! Since Twitter went down, I figured I'd try my hand at this Tumblr thing! I'm so excited to meet all of you!! Hope you're ready for some pictures of CENTIPEDES!! Feel free to AMA about the Smiling God!
👁️ nvcr-official
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🦉 dark-owl-records
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🎙️ cecilpalmer
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📚 isurvivedthesummerreadingprogram
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🦉 a-weird-bird Follow
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🌌 cece-xeze Follow
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🐚 mariella-shella Follow
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🚁 helicopters-in-your-area Follow
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#fake tumblr#fan: weird little town#i hope you all like this one i came up with it during a slow shift a few nights back and have been carefully crafting it to perfection#boss makes a dollar i make a dime thats why i invent fake tumblr posts on company time. as they say#unreality#< jic#wow look something original!!#im not maintagging this one im letting it find its own way in the world#go my little post. be free#long post#edit: FUCK I FORGOT NOTE COUNTS ON SOME OF THEM. EDITED THOUGH IT MAY BE TOO LATE
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Kinktober Day 23: Overstimulation (The Euphoria Bot)
Day 23: Overstimulation
Title: The Euphoria Bot
Pairing: Hastume x Reader x Robot
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, overstimulation, robot sex, face sitting, sexual punishment, forced orgasms, yandere
Note: Hngg, one more day down. I am beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I really had fun with this idea, so I hope everyone enjoys! Also thank you to @pleasantanathema for reading through this and coming up with Euphoria Bot when my brain was crashing over robot names!
Edit: My 3AM delirium brain also forgot to credit @hisoknen who I talked over the robot idea with, and she is the one who mentioned Mei and one of her inventions would be a good fit. I’m sorry Raph, ILY.
Kinktober Masterlist
You really shouldn’t do what you’re about to do. You know this, and yet you’re still so curious. Your girlfriend Mei never leaves you alone in her lab, and it would look terrible if you betrayed her trust the very first time she does by poking at one of her precious babies.
But you can’t seem to stop yourself from walking towards the fancy looking robot in the corner. It’s the same size and shape as a large human, maybe about 6’5.” There are strange little pads on each finger with grooves and ridges, and a few compartments along the body of the robot that seem like they should open up. There are so many dials and display screens that you can’t even begin to tell what each one does.
Except for the big red “on” button.
This is a terrible idea, you try to convince yourself. You shouldn’t press the button on a machine that Mei made without knowing what it does. Especially one that is apparently in the defective pile and no way of knowing why it’s there.
You press the button.
The robot comes online with a few whirring and beeping noises. You wait a few seconds, almost expecting it to randomly explode like some of Mei’s other inventions. Instead, it stands at attention and greets you.
“Hello, I am Euphoria Bot. How may I serve you today?” The robot greets you in a professional tone.
You’re completely taken aback, simply standing there with your mouth hung open, unable to think of a single thing to say.
“I am here to serve you.” The robot repeats, still standing at attention as if waiting on something.
“Serve how?” You’re finally able to respond, a bit of the shock having faded.
“I exist to provide pleasure to mortals. Verbally consent and I will demonstrate.”
“I consent,” the words fall from your lips without any thought, sheer curiosity overtaking you. But you are certainly not expecting the robot to scoop you up in its metallic arms and push you down on the floor.
“Wait - what do you think you’re doing?”
“I will provide you with pleasure,” the robot says as it begins to work at your clothes. Fear crawls up your spine at the strength the robot must have when it rips even your jeans into two pieces.
“Wait, I didn’t know this was what I was - ahh, stop that!” Your sentence ends in a choked gasp when a ridged finger comes to rest on your clit. There is a clicking noise, and then the fingertip turns on, vibrating against you and sending waves of pleasure into your core. The cold of the metal contrasting with the heat of your skin has you shivering.
You find yourself coming undone embarrassingly fast, stomach tightening as the robot presses the ridges down along your clit as it continues to vibrate. “Shit, too sensitive, stop!” You try to pull away, but the robot only holds you down and increases the vibrations. “God, stop it’s too much,” you whine as you try to squirm away, but the robot’s grip is ironclad.
“I will provide you with pleasure,” the robot repeats, and a sliver of fear crawls up your spine as you begin to suspect why this robot is defective. The vibrations increase even further, and you whine from deep in your throat as you see stars behind your eyes. A strange feeling is coming over you, making you feel like you have to pee.
One firm rub of the notches on the robot’s finger has you squealing out your orgasm, clear liquid gushing out of you and onto the robot’s legs and ground. “Fuck, oh god,” you pant as you quiver in its’ arms. “Okay, okay, that’s good, you’ve provided pleasure, turn it off, please - “
“Will you not allow me to provide you any more pleasure?”
“No, no more pleasure, I withdraw my consent.” Maybe if you state it officially, the robot will finally listen.
“I understand.”
You breathe a sigh of relief as the robot releases you, standing up and moving back to where it was when you turned it on. But that relief quickly turns into horror when you see what it comes back with.
Handcuffs and a spreader bar.
You jump up on wobbly legs as you try to get away, but the robot is too fast, grabbing you with one arm and forcing you back down on the ground. “My directive is to provide pleasure,” the robot repeats, and the phrase makes you want to scream in frustration. “If you no longer consent, then I may override you to complete my directive.”
And with that, your hands are handcuffed behind your back, legs forced open as the spreader bar is placed in between so that you can’t close them, leaving your dripping pussy exposed for the robot to do whatever it wants with.
Two cold metal fingers rest against your throbbing clit as the vibrations start again, and your eyes roll to the back of your head at the blinding pleasure. “Fuck fuck fuck,” you babble as you feel another finger prodding at your entrance, gathering up your juices before it pushes inside of you.
The robot’s finger is thick, but you’re so wet that it’s not uncomfortable as it slides in. Until you feel another finger pressing against the first one. Your walls are forced to stretch open until they graze your cervix, the sting causing you to wince.
And then the vibrations start from within you, and you can’t think about the pain anymore. The robot rubs your clit in tight circles, the rough texture at the tips only increasing your pleasure. You’re already right at the edge of another orgasm, and when the robot curls its fingers up against your g-spot, you’re gone, pussy clamping down as more liquid squirts out of you.
The robot removes its fingers from your pulsing pussy, and you begin to hope that maybe this is finally over. That is, until it presses a button on the front and you watch a compartment open. A massive cock emerges, with more of those ridges along its length. It’s so thick, thicker than anything you’ve ever taken before.
“That won’t fit inside of me, it won’t, please stop - “ You beg and plead, but you know your begging is fruitless when the robot repeats that same damnable phrase that has you internally screaming.
“I will provide you with more pleasure.”
It lines itself up with your pussy and begins to push inside. Your legs are trembling, sweat beading along your forehead as you try to close your legs, but the spreader bar prevents you from doing anything to keep the robot from going in deeper. You’re dripping from your previous orgasms, but the fit is still so tight as the unyielding metal forces the tight ring of muscles at your entrance to stretch.
“Fuck no, god fuck, stop, it hurts,” you whimper and plead, but the robot continues to slip inch by inch into you until finally it bottoms out. The robot ignores your begging, giving you only a second to adjust before it begins to thrust. The force of it has you being pushed back, only held in place by a firm grasp. Your breasts bounce with every movement, something that is apparently noticed as fingers come up to work your nipples into hardness.
You already feel the waves of pleasure rising up, your pussy clamping down on the hard metal buried deep inside of you. The robot must sense it too, because suddenly you feel vibration shoot through the robot’s cock, pressing against that sensitive spot inside of you and wringing another orgasm from your tired body.
“No, god, fuck I can’t cum again, please,” your begging falls on defective ears as the robot grips your hips with one hand and begins to pound into you as another finger comes to rest on your clit. Your vision blurs and turns black around the edges as you cum again, the pleasure borderline painful at this point. More liquid gushes out from your aching pussy and coats the ground beneath you. Even the robot’s metal frame is covered in your juices.
“No more pleasure, please stop!”
“I have not fulfilled my directive,” the robot repeats as all of the vibration increases at once. You scream through your orgasm, finally descending into complete darkness as you pass out.
You don’t know how long you’re out, only that when your eyes flutter open, the nightmare still hasn’t ended. It’s still on top of you, thrusting away inside of your sore, aching pussy. You almost wonder how it still has the stamina before horror dawns on you. It’s a robot, and robots don’t need rest.
But before you can panic over how long this might continue, you notice something different as your eyes are drawn to the side.
Your girlfriend Mei is sitting in a chair beside you, watching you get utterly ravaged by her baby. But instead of looking concerned or worried, she looks positively thrilled.
“Mei, please help me,” you whisper weakly, eyes shutting as you twitch through another orgasm. “I can’t make it stop.”
“Snooping through my workshop and touching my babies without me? How could you?” The redhead’s voice isn’t angry though, taking on the usual cheerful tone. “I can’t be mad though. I’ve never gotten to test it out like this!”
Test it out? Your brain is sluggish as you try to work through her meaning. “Test it? You have to help me - shit, nooo,” your voice takes on a panicked tone as your stomach tightens again, a sure sign of another impending orgasm.
“You’re going to help me first!” She giggles a bit as she stands up, pulling her pants and panties off as she tosses them to the side. “You take care of me, and I’ll help you out! How does that sound?” She straddles you, facing the robot as she lowers herself down, taking two fingers and spreading herself open as she rubs her pussy along your face. “You know what to do!”
You desperately want to refuse but you know how Mei can be when she’s testing her precious babies. Your best shot at ending this is to do as she says, so your tongue pokes out from your mouth as you lick along her slit. She sits further down, reaching behind her to grip your hair and force you harder against her pussy. You begin to lick and suck along her folds, brushing by her clit but not applying any pressure.
You’re rewarded with a frustrated whine from Mei when you continue to not give her the stimulation you need, and despite the situation, you smile at how needy she is. You finally work her clit into your mouth as you gently suck on the swollen bead.
You let out a loud moan of both pain and pleasure against her heated skin as the robot thrusting inside of you pushes against your g-spot, sending waves of another orgasm through your body. Your vision blurs again, but you shake it off as you begin to devour Mei’s pussy like a starving woman.
You suck hard on her throbbing clit, and are rewarded with a loud moan as she begins to ride your face. “Yes, yes, yes, just like that,” she chants as she grinds down, cutting off some of your breathing. You feel her juices dripping down onto your face as she cums with one final suck of her clit.
She lifts herself up, allowing you to take deep gasping breaths of oxygen. “You did so well,” she says, voice slightly breathless as she comes down from her orgasm.
“Now please make it stop” you whisper weakly, body convulsing as you’re forced through yet another orgasm. You don’t even know how you’re still able to with your pussy so sore and your clit practically numb from the extreme vibrations still running through your body.
“I don’t know, do you think you’ve learned your lesson yet?” Mei giggles a bit as your eyes widen in horror, head shaking side by side frantically until you’re forced to stop when dizziness overtakes you.
“I’ve learned my lesson, please! Please, oh god please make it stop,” you plead with her desperately, panting as your eyes roll back into your head as you squirm from yet another orgasm. “I’m sorry Mei, please!”
“Oh alright,” Mei lets out a soft huff of breath as she stands up. She reaches around to the back of the robot towards a button that you couldn’t have reached even if you wanted to. You breathe a sigh of relief at this nightmare finally being over which quickly turns to concern when you see how long Mei is taking.
“Actually, I just realized something,” she stops just inches away from what must be the off button and grins at you before pressing several other buttons. “I don’t think we should stop yet!”
You see another compartment open up right under the first one, and a cock the exact size of the one still pumping inside of you emerges. Your eyes widen in horror as you watch the second cock line up with your ass.
Mei giggles at your expression, clapping her hands together and practically bouncing in place. “After all, this is valuable testing of my precious baby’s new features!”
✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧
Kinktober: @thewheezingwyvern, @vixen-scribbles, @katsukisprincess, @hisoknen, @trafalgar-temptress, @leeswritingworld, @burnedbyshoto, @bakugotrashpanda, @dee-madwriter, @kittycatkrissa, @reinawritesbnha, @yanderart, @dabilove27, @fae-father, @anxietyplusultra, @flutterfalla, @angmarwitch, @nereida19, @babayaga67, @fromsunnywithlove, @dabis-kitten, @bakugos-cumsock, @yumeneji, @the-grimm-writer, @iwaizumi-chan, @slashersheart, @bunnyywritings, @bakarinnie, @angie-1306, @lalalemon101, @videogameboiwhowins, @f4nficbaby, @tenkoshimmy, @baroque-baby, @bbyspiiice, @thirstyforthem2dmen, @blissfulignorance2000, @bluecookies02-main, @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten
#kinktober 2020#hatsume mei x reader#mei hatsume x reader#hatsume smut#bnha x reader#bnha smut#yandere bnha#mha x reader#mha smut#yandere mha#bnha kinktober#mha kinktober#mei hatsume#hatsume mei#tw: noncon#tw: dubcon
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Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (chapter 10 - FINALE)
series masterlist
series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind. you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman– even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.
word count: 6k
warnings: implied smut, angst, fluff, romcom tropes, lots of swearing, pregnancy mention/minor breeding kink
note: click the asterisk for a hyperlink to a translation when the time comes
Six months later...
“It’s good!” she beamed, setting down the last chunk of pages and taking off her reading glasses. “Oh man, that ending hurt, but it’s really, really good!”
You leaned back into the plush chair and sighed with relief. “You think so?”
“It’s best-seller material,” she assured. “With some editing, of course. God, I can’t believe you were sitting on this for so long.”
“What are the biggest changes you want to make?” you asked.
“Well, I’m thinking we’ll cut the romantic subplot,” she mentioned in passing, like it was no big deal. “It’s distracting.
“Distracing?” you repeated. “Nia, it’s the story. It’s a romance.”
“I thought it was a thriller,” she frowned.
“A romance disguised as a thriller,” you corrected.
“Listen, I get what you mean, but I didn’t get this—” she tapped the nameplate on her desk: ‘NIA BROWN, HEAD PUBLISHER’ in shiny letters— “for nothing. I know what I’m talking about, and I know what your readers want. Violence, gore, drama!”
“It has all that!” you defended. “But it’s all there to talk about the real love he finds in her!”
“What do you mean ‘real love’?” she pressed flatly.
“I mean…” you pondered. “I mean love where you feel like a version of yourself that you actually like. Love where you feel unjudged, no precedents or caveats or back-up plans. Love that fucking hurts because you never wanted to rely on anything or anybody. Love that lives in silence because you don’t even need words.”
She furrowed her brow. “That… sounds nice, I guess, but I don’t think anybody really has that. Everybody needs a back-up plan. Everybody needs words— a writer should know that.”
“Oh my god. Oh my god,” you groaned, your face falling into your hands. “I’m so fucking stupid. Jesus Christ, I’m a moron.”
“What? What’s going on?”
“I had that! I had that, and I let it go! I’m the dumbest bitch on the fucking face of the Earth.”
“Don’t say that,” she soothed, but you were already standing up.
“No, I need to find him,” you decided as you grabbed your coat and briefcase. “I need to go back and try to fix this. I love him, I’ve never— I didn’t know I could love like that, I didn’t know I could be loved like that… oh my god, I need to find him. It isn’t over.”
“It isn’t over?” she repeated incredulously. “You said Michael signed the papers!”
“It’s not Michael,” you rolled your eyes as you stormed out of the office. “It was never Michael.”
You ran into the first telephone box you could find, slamming the door shut as you searched your purse for the business card that probably wasn't even in there.
After a moment, you gasped with delight when you pulled it from a very bottom pocket and began punching in the number as fast as possible with shivering hands, long-distance charges be damned.
“Hello?” the confused voice on the other end answered.
“Mrs. Alberti, hi— does Sebastian still work for you?” you asked hastily.
“No, dear," she sighed, apparently recognizing you by just your voice (and likely your request), "he quit recently, and moved away.”
“Moved?" you repeated with a wrinkled brow. "Where?!”
“I assume back home, sweetheart; to Bucharest.”
“Shit,” you sighed. “Shit!”
“Are you having your ‘run through the airport’ moment, sweetheart?” she realized.
“Yes, I think so— do you have his address?”
“Well, no, but I’ll see what I can find.”
You waited rather impatiently as she shuffled through papers in the background, mumbling to herself as she apparently searched for information that could help you.
“All I’ve got is the address of a previous employer… a carpenter,” she finally explained, breaking the silence. “It was his only reference when he came to work here," she explained.
"Wow, you really did just hire him for his looks," you blurted out.
"He was desperate for work, that boy had nowhere else to go,” she defended.
“Right, well, I guess if that’s my only lead then I’ve gotta go for it,” you decided. “Thank you, Mrs. Alberti.”
“I told you to call me when that book was a hit. Did it happen yet?” she piped up.
“It’s not published yet,” you explained. “It needs some more work… but I think it’s almost ready.”
“I think so, too, dear.”
Learn Romanian in 10 Weeks! A practical language guide.
Week 1, Day 1: Greetings
Hello Salut
Goodbye La revedere
Thank you Mulțumesc
You’re welcome Cu plăcere
Good morning Bună dimineata
Good afternoon Bună ziua
Good evening Bună seara
Good night Noapte bună
You brushed your hair back out of your face with a sigh, turning the page as you mumbled the phrases to yourself. Broken Hungarian and your high school education in Latin were not getting you as far with this as you had been hoping.
How are you? Ce mai faci
I love you Te iubesc
“Te iubesc, te iubesc, te iubesc,” you repeated over and over in a whisper.
Each day you had a new routine: practice Romanian for an hour, check flight prices online (or call the airline), research what you knew about Sebastian and the address Mrs. Alberti had given you, and then get back to practicing Romanian again.
Oh, and occasionally you worked on the edits Nia wanted for your manuscript. You were focusing on the minor changes— grammar errors, rearranging sentences— and putting off her big request for the removal and replacement of the romantic aspects. More than ever, they seemed like the most important thing the book had to offer.
You had a small apartment, just a place to sleep and shower really; much too small to fit everything you’d already taken from Michael’s house (you know, the one that used to be your house) along with what he’d shipped to you that you forgot before. He included a letter in the package as well. You threw it out, unopened.
Truthfully, you never really fully unpacked. As much as you realized you probably should, in order to really feel like you had a real home, you couldn’t bring yourself to empty your suitcases when you knew you’d be packing them again any day now.
You also realized how outrageous this all was. Ignoring the unlikelihood of even finding him in the first place, Sebastian probably wouldn’t want anything to do with you after you broke his heart, left, and then randomly tracked him down after over half a year. But to be totally transparent, you weren’t really doing this to get him back, necessarily. You knew that was probably never going to happen. You were doing this because you needed to try. You needed to go there, and get hurt, and come back knowing you did everything you could: you’d never be able to live with yourself if you did anything less than that.
You couldn’t start your new life until you had put everything else to bed. And if that meant being 100%, painfully certain that you and Sebastian could never be together, then that was just how it needed to be.
After two weeks of looking, there still weren’t any reasonable flights to Bucharest, so you booked another trip by train, figuring you could use the three day trip to brush up on the key Romanian phrases you were going to need as well as prepare your speech.
Yes, your plan was a speech. You didn’t have a back-up plan. You didn’t even have a return ticket back to London yet.
A passage by Yeats came to mind; But I, being poor, have only my dreams. I have spread my dreams under your feet. Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.
In all your life, you’d never understood before why someone would want to only have their dreams. But now, here you were… and yes, it felt terrifying and vulnerable and uncomfortably naked, but it felt pretty damn good, too.
With a sigh, you scribbled out the last sentence you’d written, tossing the trash paper aside. You looked up out the window at the scenery flying by in a blur, worried that if you didn’t look out from the train every once in a while you’d get motion sickness.
The sun was beginning to set already, the green of hills and trees tinted orange. You only indulged in it for a moment, though, before getting back to this god-forsaken speech you were deadset on finishing before you arrived in Bucharest tomorrow. At first, you’d figured the translating would be the most difficult part… but writing in English wasn’t exactly a piece of cake, either. You had so much to say, and suddenly so few words for any of it.
You’d probably done more editing on this than any of your novels combined; the crumpled up pages spilling out of your wastebasket were proof enough of that.
“And I’m a fucking writer!” you groaned aloud, to no one in particular. “How is anybody else supposed to be able to do this, if I can’t?”
Other people aren’t as emotionally constipated as you, the voice of your inner critic reminded you plainly, making you roll your eyes at yourself.
A rap at your door made you sit up straighter and turn around. A stewardess slid open the frosted glass slightly to give you a friendly smile. “Is everything alright, ma’am?”
Your brows furrowed at the sound of her accent. “Is that a Romanian accent?” you asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” she nodded.
“So you’re fluent in Romanian and English,” you concluded.
“And Portuguese, yes ma’am,” she agreed.
“Could you come in here for a moment and help me translate something?”
She seemed slightly confused at the request but stepped forward, sliding the door most of the way shut behind her. Leaning beside you on the desk, she picked up your handwritten letter and blinked her wide, brown eyes a few times. You felt slightly embarrassed knowing she was reading such intimate thoughts, but that was how it felt the first time someone read anything you wrote so you were pretty much used to it by now.
“I usually ask the passengers what brings them to Bucharest,” she mumbled after a moment. “This is the most interesting thing so far. Am I reading this correctly, that you intend to confess your love to someone you met—” she scanned the page quickly— “during a vacation in Hungary?”
“Yup,” you smiled awkwardly, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word.
“And he doesn’t speak English?” she assumed; you nodded. “And… you don’t speak Romanian?”
You nodded again, and she breathed in and out quickly, sitting beside you as she stared at the letter.
“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” she explained.
“Sorry for sucking you into the entropic vortex that is my life,” you chuckled.
“I don’t mean to pry,” she sighed, setting the letter down, and you laughed a little internally at the idea that she was worried about prying when she just read the most personal piece of writing you’d ever put to the page, “but do you think this is… enough? I mean, to build a relationship on?”
You just gave her a shrug. “I have no idea. But, you know, I spent my whole life worrying about stuff like that. I dated my husband for seven years before we got married, because I wanted to be sure. I was initially interested in him because he was successful and ambitious, and it made me feel like this was a really secure relationship that I could rely on. I double majored in English and Computer Science because I wanted a more stable career to fall back on in case being a writer didn’t work out, and even though it did, I’ve spent most of my career publishing what I thought people wanted to read instead of what I wanted to write, so I’d have a better shot at a good paycheck. I grew up thinking the best thing I could ever have was security. And now I’m divorced, watching my royalties shrink every month, more insecure in every way than I’ve ever been, and I’m realizing that the choices I made didn’t give me what I wanted. I gave up so much in the name of safety, and I let the one good thing I’d ever found go, so I could go back to being the same person I always was. I’m ready to settle again, if this doesn’t work… I’m ready to accept that this is just the way life goes, and be thankful that I got a taste of the kind of stuff I thought only existed in the sort of books I’d read but never write.”
She swallowed as she looked at you, and you felt your eyes water as you stared out the window towards the dimming scenery one more time, smiling at the sight of a distant village, a church with a steeple, vineyards and farms. Someone’s whole life is in that little town, you imagined, and they’re just watching your train go by like they see every other day.
“Sebastian gave me more security than I’d ever had before, even though the whole thing was such a ridiculous little whirlwind, and nothing like I ever imagined my life could be. But he made me want to be honest and raw and write sappy letters like the one you just read. He doesn’t have any money, at least as far as I know, and I haven’t known him for seven years, and on paper it makes no sense… but you would understand if you knew him. If you felt that joy that he radiates, if you saw him live his simple little life like it’s the best thing in the world. You would understand if you knew how much I needed this. You would understand if you had been just as miserable being who I’ve been for so long, and finally had a chance to be somebody you think you were maybe meant to be the whole time. So, if I never see him again, I hope I just get to thank him.”
You waited for her to say something, but furrowed your brow at the long moment of silence, looking back from the window finally and finding her staring at you with a tear running down her cheek. When you met her gaze, she quickly wiped it away with a sniffle and looked down at your desk again. “Let’s get to translating, shall we?” she announced with a half-smile.
You noticed the way the other passengers looked at you as everyone was in line to deboard from the train car; you stuck out like a sore thumb, since everybody else was carrying heavy luggage and all you had was a backpack.
In your defense, you really had no idea how to pack for a trip where you knew neither the duration nor the true final destination. So, it was mainly filled with your essentials, a few clothes for any kind of weather, and enough leu to buy anything else you needed along the way.
The stewardess was waving goodbye to everyone as they shuffled out into the train station, occasionally stopping to shake a hand or give directions to nearby destinations. When you were just about to pass by, though, she pulled you into a tight hug.
“Good luck,” she whispered, holding you just a moment too long before pulling back and giving you an encouraging look. “If he doesn’t take you back, feel free to blame my translation… because if he knows what’s in your heart, I know he’ll say yes.”
“Yeah, that’s the hard part isn’t it?” you laughed weakly. “Thank you for your help. I guess if I come back alone for the return trip tonight, you’ll know how bad it went.”
“Then I hope I don’t see you again,” she winked.
It being a major train station and all, cabs were waiting around every corner so it was pretty easy to grab one and give them the address you already had written down for this exact purpose.
“This is pretty far,” the driver explained, “on the edge of town. Not a tourist spot.”
“Good, because I’m not a tourist,” you nodded, already only giving him half your attention as you pulled out the translated speech to practice.
“And you can afford this?” he pressed. You sighed and dug through your bag, pulling out a haphazard stack of bills and handing them through the plastic partition.
“Is this enough?” you asked, and he didn’t answer, just taking the money and starting the car as you smiled and leaned back in your seat.
As much as you had tried to convince yourself to not get your hopes up, the butterflies in your stomach felt more like whole birds at this point, demanding to break free as you practiced the words hand-written on the page over and over again, committing it all to memory.
“What are you reading?” the cab driver asked after several minutes.
“Oh, nothing,” you mumbled, “sorry if I’m bothering you, you can turn on the radio.”
“No, it’s not bothering me, but what you are saying… it’s very odd. It sounds like something from a play, or movie,” he explained.
“Um, it’s not,” you replied, a little embarrassed. “But does it sound like it’s from a good movie? Like, if you heard a character say this to another character, would you think they should get together?”
“I… don’t know,” he answered, sounding confused. “I mean, it depends on what happened, right? How they met, how well they get along…”
So, you told him the whole story, as succinctly as possible (which is not very succinct at all). By the end, he was actually giving commentary as you spoke.
“Why the hell did you leave?” he interjected, clearly irritated with you. “You loved him!”
“Yeah, well, sometimes love isn’t enough! I loved my husband too, and look how that turned out,” you defended.
“But that’s different. That was love for all the wrong reasons.”
“I promise, it felt very real at the time,” you shrugged.
“And now?” he countered. “You realize that this man— Sebastian, right?— is real.”
“I hope I’m right this time,” you offered. “But even if I am, he may not agree.”
The driver scoffed, taking a hand off the wheel to wave dismissively. “If he’s anything like you said, then he will still be completely in love with you. After all, you still feel the same way after all this time apart, don’t you?”
“If anything, I love him more every day,” you admitted, your heart beating quickly just to say it aloud.
“You know, when I met my wife, she was engaged to another man. He was rich, good-looking, and he wasn’t even a bad guy unlike this husband you describe. He was a good man, but he wasn’t right for her. They were… content together, but she wasn’t truly happy. Every night I would come to her window and beg her to marry me, because I knew that she knew we were meant for each other, but she was scared because her family wouldn’t approve and she would be a poor man’s wife.”
“How did you convince her to marry you instead?” you asked eagerly, sucked into the story already.
“I didn’t. On the day of the wedding, some people told me to go and break it up but I didn’t. I thought it would be wrong, to try to ruin her happiness and take it for myself by making a scene at the wedding. I realized she was her own woman and if she wanted to choose him, I had to let her. I had locked myself in my house, not wanting to see anyone that day, and she appeared at my door. I didn’t need to convince her because she knew the truth in her heart, and called off the wedding herself.”
“Wow,” you smiled.
“She was still in her dress!” he recalled with a hearty laugh. “She looked like an angel. We were married just a few days later. And next month will be thirty years,” he added as he lifted his left hand to show the golden band on his finger.
“Thirty years, that’s… a long time,” you sighed.
“It wasn’t always easy,” he admitted. “But it was always worth it.”
Just as you wondered what you could possibly say to that, you felt the car slow down to a stop.
“This is the address you gave me, this is it,” he explained, pointing out his passenger-side window. You leaned up against the glass and gasped in dawning fear as you saw the storefront dark and empty inside.
“No, nonono,” you whispered rapidly to yourself as you swung open the door and hopped out, pressing your face against the glass to try to get a look inside and finding what was undeniably a closed carpentry business. There was a note on the door, taped on the inside of the glass, and you knew enough Romanian to know it said something about a vacation and three months.
“Shit!” you yelped, holding your face in your hands, wondering if your journey had come to an end before it really began.
“Are you alright?” the driver asked, rolling down his window to speak to you.
“This was my only lead, I don’t have his real address,” you explained. “He used to work here, I thought maybe someone would know him…”
He sighed, giving you a sympathetic look. “Get back in, we can search nearby. You came too far to give in yet.”
But getting back in the car felt like giving in, too, which you realized as you looked back at the note taped to the carpenter's door. This was the closest you'd gotten, and it felt wasteful to leave with nothing.
Just as you were ready to hop in the passenger seat and start searching aimlessly through suburban Bucharest, or maybe look around for a Romanian yellow pages, you heard a noise from behind you, across the street; a laugh. His laugh. But it couldn’t be because it was too good to be true… and yet you found yourself whipping your head around and hoping beyond all reason that it was Sebastian.
Across the street was a restaurant, with a large patio where patrons were dining and chatting as they sat at wrought iron tables, and your eyes searched the crowd for any signs of him.
And then your gaze landed on a head of thick brunette hair, red and gold highlights so obvious now when the sunlight hit it this way. Broad shoulders wrapped in a white button-up shirt. He was facing away from you but he was looking to the side so you could see his face; he was smiling, laughing at something someone had said. And it was his smile that you recognized; it was like everything else faded away, and in that moment you thought maybe you could almost be happy with just this, just seeing him be happy even if it had nothing to do with you.
“Sebastian,” you called out to him, but he didn’t react. “Sebastian!”
His whole body turned, his eyes met yours, and you couldn't help but let the tears well in your eyes as you ran across the road to him.
He looked, understandably, stunned, and you realized he was actually waiting on a table at the moment; he said something to them, apparently excusing himself, and stepped closer to you.
But he stopped walking, not coming any closer, not exactly dragging you into his arms like you might've preferred, but with a breath to try to soothe your racing mind, you summoned your memories of the practiced letter and began. *
“Când am venit în Ungaria…” you started slowly, doing your best to remember the words and hoping your pronunciation wasn’t too awful, “nu căutam dragoste. Căutam spațiu, claritate și poate o idee de carte de un milion de dolari. În schimb, am găsit tot ce am căutat toată viața mea…”
You did your best to bite back tears, especially when his expression was nearly unreadable and you had no idea how well this was going.
“Ești tu, Sebastian, bineînțeles că ești tu,” you sighed, laughing slightly. “Ai fost acolo pentru mine când nici nu știam ce vreau de la nimeni. Ai fost prietenul meu fără să spui vreodată un cuvânt - cel puțin nu un cuvânt pe care l-am înțeles. M-ai iubit și nu știam ce să fac cu asta, pentru că uitasem cu mult timp în urmă cum se simțea să fii iubit. Și ce simțeai să iubești cu adevărat pe cineva. Dar te iubesc. Și am fost prost să te las să pleci, atât de neconceput de prost. Vreau să fim noi, Sebastian. Lasă-mă să te iubesc, mai dă-mi o șansă și îți promit că nu te voi mai lăsa să pleci niciodată.
The first thing he said was your name, and just the way he said it made you fall in love with him all over again.
“I… I dream that you would come back,” he shakily replied. “But now I cannot believe. You are my dream.”
Tears were openly flowing at this point and you wanted to run into his arms, but you tried to stay calm and hear him out. He stepped closer, almost hesitant, like you would run away if he got too close too fast.
“I love you, very much that I am sure I am insane person,” he explained with a grin, and you giggled. “We will live anywhere, do anything you would like— be my wife.”
You gasped as he pulled you into him, gripping your arms tightly as his desperation became apparent.
“Marry me?” he asked softly.
“Da,” you nodded, “yes, of course, anything—”
He kissed you suddenly, but gently, and it said more than any words in any language could.
It was a small wedding, in the Hungarian countryside by the lake. You could remember diving into that lake for lost pages of your manuscript; you could remember looking out over the water and dreaming of this moment you were living right now, thinking it was impossible.
He didn’t have much family, but they welcomed you with open arms.
Your family, well, they were too busy with planning another wedding, for your ex-husband and your ex-sister. A few of them sent cards but the rest were suspiciously quiet. You honestly didn’t even notice… you had a new family to attend to, anyhow. And it wasn’t like you didn’t have any guests, since you were able to track down and invite a stewardess named Maria, and a cab driver named Andrei and his wife, Paola.
Sebastian’s cousins weaved flowers into your hair and his grandmother tailored her dress to fit you like a glove. A picture of his parents was hung nearby in tribute; he told you they would’ve wanted to see him get married but that he felt, in some way, they were able to even if they had passed away quite some time ago.
You realized you’d never seen him in anything even mildly formal before; in fact, the suit he wore was rather casual, all things considered, but he looked so painfully cute in it. Sometimes you thought he actually looked a bit out of place wearing a shirt, though, especially one that was buttoned up all the way.
Luckily, the shirt was halfway unbuttoned about ten minutes into the reception.
Mrs. Alberti cooked a massive dinner for everyone, and even grew the flowers that you carried down the cobblestone aisle.
And wow, can Romanians drink. You had to be careful not to try to keep up with them, because if you had you would’ve been blacked out halfway into the night and the last thing you wanted was to forget even a moment of this.
As the night started to wind down to a close, you and your new husband retired to the lakehouse, running up the stairs and finding them as creaky as always.
He wrapped his arms around you in the hall and kissed you eagerly as you stumbled back into the bedroom, tripping over the doorway and falling onto the bed together.
It felt so right to have his weight on top of you, to feel his smile against your lips, to wrap your arms around his neck.
“This room,” he mumbled into the kiss. “Do you remember first time?”
“Yes,” you nodded, “da, I remember, how could I forget?”
He grinned and moved his lips down to your neck. "I thought of you every day… I love you,” he whispered.
“Te iubesc,” you whispered back.
It was almost like the first time in so many ways: passionate, yet oddly hesitant as you rediscovered each other. It was comfortable, though… you couldn’t think of any other person you felt so comfortable with, somebody who finally got you out of your own head and who made you want to experience everything life had to offer.
You were sure you’d never gone so long without worrying about something in all your life.
“My wife,” he whispered against your skin. “This is all I had wanted… from seeing you in very beginning.”
“You’re all I ever wanted,” you sighed in return, “ești tot ce mi-am dorit vreodată, Sebastian.”
Life with Sebastian was beautifully simple. You spent most of the day writing, usually, while he built furniture to sell and occasionally gardened with his spare time. You could always tell how busy you’d been with a new novel lately by how perfectly groomed the hydrangea bushes were.
You’d told him once that you’d come to Hungary looking for a million-dollar book idea. A Killer in Disguise performed alright, but not anywhere near that. The Language of Love, on the other hand, was definitely a million-dollar idea… about eleven times over. Sebastian didn’t seem to worry too much about how much money you made, though; he was just proud to say that he was the inspiration for your hit novel. You secretly suspected that he was more proud of your work reaching enough international notoriety to be translated into Romanian.
His English still needed some work, but you found it endearing. He was determined to get better and spent at least a half-hour each day practicing, but you hoped he wouldn’t get too perfect because you would miss the silly little mistakes he made. At least you could be sure he’d keep the accent forever… damn, that accent; and he knew exactly what it did to you, too.
In fact, you were crossing through the hall in your robe one evening when your husband’s voice stopped you.
“Darling wife,” you heard Sebastian call from the bedroom in a playful sing-song.
“What is it, Seba?” you asked with a smirk.
“Come in here, please…”
You opened the bedroom door to find most of the room covered in rose petals: most of all the bed, which was surrounded by candles, and topped with a shirtless (as per usual) Sebastian, laid on his side seductively with a long-stemmed rose (one you recognized from his very own garden) between his teeth.
“What are you doing?” you laughed. “Is this some sort of special occasion I’ve forgotten?”
You were already searching your mind for what it could be, but your two-year anniversary had passed a few months ago already and since it was spring it couldn’t be the anniversary of when you first met since that was late in the summer.
“Iss not quite a thpecial occathion yeth,” he answered before taking the rose from his mouth so he actually made sense. “I was considering it could be a special occasion, when we’re done…”
You smirked and climbed over the candles and into bed with him, taking the opportunity to run your hands over his chest. “And what occasion would that be?”
“A year from now, it could be the anniversary of when our child was conceived,” he answered.
Your breath caught in your throat, your voice reduced to a whisper of surprise. “Seba—”
“If you’re not ready, I will be understand,” he instantly added, stern yet soft. “Only if you want this, I just thought that maybe—”
You silenced him with a kiss, lacing your fingers into his hair and letting him roll you onto your back. He pulled back just enough to let you answer, but your noses were still bumping into each other and you smiled.
“I’m ready, Sebastian. More than ready,” you whispered.
He grinned and kissed you again, deeper and slower as he held your face with one hand and gripped your waist with the other. As his lips trailed down to your neck, you were interrupted with one pressing thought.
“Can I ask you something?”
He popped up and looked down at you with a smile. “Sure!”
“Why are you wearing ratty old jeans?” you laughed.
“Hey, these worked on you the first time,” he defended.
You gasped. “You don’t mean those are the jeans—”
“Yes,” he nodded, “the jeans that I had been wearing when I was working on Mrs. Alberti’s cottage. And, truly, when I was finding an excuse to work outside your window.”
“Wait,” you sat up, “did you actually work outside my window on purpose?”
He laughed, hanging his head quickly before looking back at you again with a sparkle in his eye. “You are very smart, my love, except for those times when you are— how do you say? Oblivious.”
You chuckled, unfortunately very aware that he was right.
“Didn’t you ever wonder why I was building a window frame, nearly a dozen metres away from the window it was for?”
You thought for a moment before dropping your face into your hands and laughing. “No, I didn’t notice that. I was too busy giving you a thorough eye-fuck,” you recalled.
“Yes, because I was not wearing a shirt and this distracted you,” he pondered, sounding suddenly like a scientist explaining a theorem or something. “See, that’s the beauty of wearing the jeans and no shirt. The body distracts you while the jeans seduce you.”
“How about you take the jeans off and put that body on me, capisce?” you pleaded; not that you didn’t love his humor or anything, but maybe his funny bone wasn’t exactly the bone you were interested in at the moment.
He grinned devilishly and suddenly pulled your legs apart, settling his body between them as he kissed your neck again, nipping at your jawline and ear. “You’re being impatient, dragă,” he purred. “You want to have my baby that badly?”
You whined involuntarily, arching your back as his hands roamed your body and finally began to untie your robe and push the silk out of the way. “Yes, Sebastian, please—”
“Let’s just say, theoretically, I wanted to have more than one? Would you have another of my children?” he asked softly as he reached up and palmed at your breasts, teasing your nipples which were already much too hard and sensitive for how little he’d touched you. The rough denim rubbing against the inside of your thighs was oddly arousing— maybe it was the sensation itself, or maybe it was just that this was almost like the first thing you imagined when you saw Sebastian all those years ago.
“Yes,” you moaned out your answer, “yes, you know I’d do anything for you.”
“What if I wanted a big family?” he pressed. “Really big? Like, Catholic big?”
“We can have our own fuckin’ Brady Bunch, Seb, I just need you right now,” you begged, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a hot and desperate kiss.
He decided to wait until afterwards to ask what a ‘Brady Bunch’ was. You decided to wait until afterwards to ask when he’d learned how to use the word ‘theoretically’.
sfarsit; the end
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So this is sort of similar to the people writing fanfic about the lions but can you imagine the YouTube edits? Like the videos that are just "Cap having heart eyes for Loops for 10 minutes straight" or "Loops lovingly dragging Caps name through the mud for 3 minutes" like those kinds of things and I can just imagine them doing reaction videos and it just being funny and the world just loving coops
Okay so this wasn't a specific fic request but I got carried away with imagining videos and....here you go. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove, but Grace and Anna are mine! Bonus points to anyone who remembers the easter egg in this one!
Message From: Gracie
ANNA HOLY SHIT
Anna frowned at her phone screen, squinting to read around the spiderweb crack decorating the upper corner. She had tried to convince herself that it was cool, goth, edgy, but in the end she had to admit that it was just irritating. In a tragic turn of events, packing tape couldn’t fix everything.
Message To: Gracie
Wtf did I do
Two weeks of radio silence, then unexplained accusations. Anna shook her head as the grey bubble disappeared for a third time and turned back to her computer. Grace may have been her favorite cousin—and favorite person, if she was being honest—but very few things came between Anna and video editing. Especially editing for a Lions meme video. She had a whole 2,341 followers to attend to, after all.
Message From: Gracie
DID YOU SEE THE FUCKING INTERVIEW???
Message To: Gracie
Wow thank you so helpful
Message From: Gracie
Skip to 2:45 bestie
A link popped up just as Anna cut a segment from the sleep study video, where Loops’ heart eyes were in full effect. It was a rare, precious find for fan editors like herself.
“Come on,” she groaned. Maybe introducing Grace to the deepest parts of her hockey obsession was a mistake. But, really, what else was she supposed to do when she learned her cousin, who didn’t even live in Gryffindor, got to meet her favorite players just by chilling in a café? What kind of cosmic joke was that?
She narrowed her eyes at the embed of the link, then stifled a shriek. Impossible. How had she missed an upload?
As if on cue, her computer pinged with a new notification from the Lion Pride channel. “Oh, fuck me,” she muttered, scrambling to save her half-done video and pressing play.
The interviewer asked basic questions, ones she had heard the answers to a million times while curating her content. It always felt funny to hear people refer to Cap as ‘Sirius’—it was too official, too formal. She had spent countless hours on the compilations of his softer moments, and they were her most popular videos. Cap Having Heart Eyes for Loops for 10 Minutes Gay. Cap Being an Actual Puppy for Six and a Half Minutes. Everyone Wanting Cap Cuddles for Fifteen Minutes. Every Time Cap Smiles When Someone Mentions His Godson. The list was endless. She loved it.
She did a silent fist pump when she saw the interviewer had snagged both Cap and Loops; that would give her a whole new stream of workable content. If she was lucky, she could expand on her series of Loops Lovingly Roasting His Friends, part…fuck it, who was even counting anymore?
Anna was so caught up in her excitement that she nearly forgot about Grace’s suggestion. I’ve never skipped through a video on the first watch before, she thought hesitantly. But maybe just this once…
Her cursor hovered over the 2:45mark. She closed her eyes, and clicked it.
“—have you been adjusting to life as a celebrity?” the interviewer asked. Anna nearly rolled her eyes when Loops laughed. That question had been used far too often to be interesting anymore.
“It’s had its ups and downs,” Loops said with a smile. “Mostly, though, the fans have been incredible and just knocked my socks off with their support.”
“Really? What’s your favorite part of the Lions fanbase?”
He didn’t miss a beat. “Their creativity, for sure. There was a video a while back where we reacted to some of the comments people left, and this person on Twitter made an absolutely beautiful collage of photos.”
“I have it saved to my phone,” Sirius added.
One more clip for the simp video. Anna made a note on the small corner space of her European History notes. The degree can wait for ten more minutes.
“Do you have a favorite creator?”
The interviewer was clearly teasing, but Loops’ smile was genuine. “I don’t know about a favorite, but there’s this person on YouTube who makes a shit ton of videos and they’re hysterical. I saw one the other day about—god, what was it again?”
“Every time I smile when people mention Harry,” Sirius answered around a laugh. “Can you blame me?”
Anna didn’t hear the next question. A ringing noise filled her ears as she sat, frozen, on her shitty dorm mattress and listened to her literal heroes talk about her dorky little channel. “Holy fuck,” she blurted after a moment of silence. “Holy fuck.”
“—subscribed?” The man’s voice snapped her back to reality.
“Of course I am!” Loops said. “You think I’m passing up a chance to watch a compilation of my friends making stupid decisions for the entire internet to see?”
A noise that would have been a shriek if Anna had any breath left in her body escaped her lungs; she clamped a hand over her mouth and shakily exited from the video before going to her YouTube account. 800 new notifications. 700 new followers in the last quarter hour. She was pretty sure she blacked out for a second from sheer shock and joy.
Message To: Gracie
What
Message From: Gracie
You’re famous!
Message To: Gracie
What
Message From: Gracie
I bet he knows your stuff better than he remembers me tbh
“They know me,” she whispered, staring at her computer. The unfinished video showed a perfect frame of Loops’ soft smile as he watched Cap get his toothbrush stuck in his pajama shirt. Somehow, the thought was both exhilarating and horrifying. What if they thought she was a creep? She wasn’t, not really, just a bored college student with not enough free time for a job but too much to keep herself busy with schoolwork. Her 2,341—no, 3,052—followers were just other hockey nerds looking for time to kill.
And the subject of those videos was one of her subscribers.
Anna slipped her headphones back on and began to edit like it was her last day on earth. Her fingers flew across the keyboard on muscle memory while her brain fizzed. Perfect, she thought. It has to be perfect.
In four hours, it was done. She sat back, panting, then hunched over again and began tapping out a title card.
Hello. Idk if anyone saw the new Lion Pride video today (linked below if anyone wants to see why I’m dying right now) but apparently Remus Lupin is subscribed to this channel and has been for a while.
Hi Loops. I’m Anna. You met my cousin once and she said she liked your sweater.
Now that that’s out of the way, please enjoy the next five minutes of our new rookie being the sappiest mf in existence (except for his fiancé). Mr. Lupin, please tell Hattie I say hello.
She pressed upload, peeled her headphones off, and collapsed backward on her bed.
Message To: Gracie
If I die here, tell the world I did it doing what I loved
Message From: Gracie
Will do
OH FUCK YOU FOR BRINGING UP THE SWEATER I SOUND LIKE A CREEP
Anna covered her itchy eyes with her forearm and settled in for a long, long nap. Her brain still needed to repair a few circuits.
#remus lupin#sirius black#coops#anna#grace#sweater weather#lumosinlove#my fic#fanfic#ocs#hattie#lion pride
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I said I'd make a post detailing my kid Asra working for Lucio theory in this post so here it is!
So Let's get STARDED.
So! To start off, how it began. We do know when Asra and Muriel were kids, Lucio came to them each seperately with a deal.
Essentially: work for me, or I'll hurt your friend.
This was the sentiment he repeated for both of them. So, not wanting the other to be harmed, they both agree - unaware of the other's deal.
For Muriel, it was playing heel/excecutioner at the coleseium. For Asra, it was doing... Well, we never know, aside from he worked under Lucio. But that's what we are here to discuss in any case.
Continued under the read more, for the sake of people's dashes.
Now presumably, if I got my timeline right, Asra at this time would've been around 12 or 13. We don't know much about how Asra was when he was younger, other than that he has certainly changed.
It's also worth noting that it's not amiss to say they were both also still homeless at the time, and the hut hadn't come into the play until after.
Asra was still living on the streets.
This all isn't overly important for any of my claims later, but perhaps someone else could make something of it. It does provide us with some framing for the situation as a whole, though.
Now onto Asra's time under Lucio. I don't know that we have any indication of how long it was, but presumably at least a year if not more.
We do also know that Lucio knew who Asra was. Both in that he knew Aisha and Salim had a kid, and that he knew Asra was said kid.
This is bring this up because we know Aisha and Salim were incredibly talented, and likely incredibly powerful. Lucio wouldn't settle for any run of the mill magician or alchemist for the work he needed. So he must've had some idea that Asra may take after that power as well.
To top it off, he also interacted and talked with the dock kids he also used, (two of which would actually later become palace guards,) and seeing as this is seemingly how he learned of Muriel, it's not off to think that this is also how he heard of Asra again to start. The kids knew of Asra's magic, and roughly where he was, and could've even continued talking about both Muriel and Asra to Lucio for unknown amounts of time.
So now Lucio knows that the kid of his two powerful practitioners of magic is not only still around, but taking after them as well.
If Muriel's intimidating size and physical power are what drew Lucio to him, why wouldn't Asra's considerable metaphysical power and talents draw Lucio in as well?
We know how much Lucio loves power, and that he has an interest in magic because of it, as mentioned in the main story. (no ss sorry... If you have one send so I can add. )
Plus, homeless kid in a vulnerable spot. Easy pickings.
That's what I think this whole thing was about, really. It's all power. Though Asra likely didn't have the full scope of power he does in the current game, he was probably still considerably talented, and was only getting better.
What Lucio specifically probably wanted from Asra then was either to be taught how to use that power, to use Asra for things that required it, and/or use his power for entertainment akin to how he used Muriel.
I think out of these however, using him for his power was most likely. Why? (And teaching him now, more on that further down)
(Sorry for bad quality lmao it's a small image. Also thanks to @8-bit-space for showing these to me like months ago. As you can see I can't stop thinking abt it)
These are screenshots from the old prologue. While they're not canon any more, there's reason to believe they still hold merit as to how Lucio feels about Asra.
Two things to me are major here. First is the "powerful potent magic," and how it's the "real deal," equating to a large part of how he views Asra yet again tying back to a heavy interest in his power. Now, you could argue this relates to using his powers in the palace during the plague, but the second point stands out even more to me.
"The one who broke him for me?"
What this implies to me is that Lucio could never quite get all the way through to Asra or control him when he was younger, and he's been dying to do so. He wanted Asra broken, presumably so that he'll become essentially a tool for him to use for his skill and not put up a fight- something Asra likely did as a child.
Because it seems that Lucio for the most part relied on control through fear when it came to Asra, threatening to hurt Muriel, lying to him about how he executed his parents, likely other things as well. But things seem to point to that never quite working like he had hoped.
This could allude to this as well. Though "impossible" is something Asra's been called a few times, namely also by Julian, there's no reason to assume Lucio wasn't also including his work with him as a kid in "always". Impossible to hate could be his draw to Asra for his power, his talent, his skills, the prospect of which I'm sure Lucio found practically mouthwatering. Impossible to love could be his stubbornness or reluctance to do what Lucio wants, always pushing against him or being hard to deal with, both as a kid and during the plague.
And lines like this, where he calls him a coward. I find it hard to relate this to the plague ritual as he was for the most part willingly helping with that, so it could be resenment for when Asra eventually ran off as a kid, unwilling to put up with him any longer, or his reluctance to do certain things for him then in general.
We know, and it has even been mentioned by a character within the canon, that Asra can be incredibly stubborn, to back that up. Plus, he could've been even harder to work with then both being a kid and as I mentioned earlier he has changed from how he was then, so he could've had more spunk to him or such.
This also easily means that what Lucio was trying to get Asra to do then was something Asra was quite obviously opposed to. Being used for his power is already degrading enough, but there could be more to it.
You'll notice in the post that was linked at the top (the reason I'm writing this) I mentioned pushing Asra to his physical limits and magical extremes. This could be one of the reasons for a push back.
If Lucio was having Asra do things for him involving magic, it's not out of pocket to assume he'd practically run him into the ground- I'm sure he really wouldve loved testing the limits of what Asra could REALLY do.
Wether it be huge expendure of power all at once, or tons of smaller things one after the other, it would absolutely take it's toll. We are shown a few times that using magic can exhaust someone, and I don't remember if this is shown in canon ever (tell me if so!) but pushing it even further could definitely lead to other things such as passing out, (Or nosebleeds, for the aesthetic,) alongside likely being incredibly painful and draining, both mentally and physically.
Basically, abusing his powers and the body that commanded them. It's also possible that the stubborness to work with Lucio could also be partially percieved because of this- Lucio taking Asra's literal physical inability to continue as defiance.
Another reason for push back from Asra would be making him do morally compromising things. This is a little more vague, but intimidation is a common headcanon I see for what Lucio made Asra do, and that could tie in here. Other things could be meddling in things and business he shouldn't, but again, it's a vague thing. Make of it what you will. Fucked up stuff all around.
[EDIT - TEACHING LUCIO]
(THANK YOU @tea-tye for showing me these, and credits to @hangedman-magician for the video they came from!!!!!!!)
...I cannot BELIEVE I forgot this, I KNEW I was missing something. Especially when I was fairly certain I remember Lucio being obsessed with the idea of magic. SO, MOVING ON,
There's not terribly much to pick apart here as it's rather direct- Asra saying he has in fact tried to teach Lucio magic. So in my eyes this solidifies that this was a component of Asra's time under Lucio. I still think my points about Lucio treatment (pushing Asra to his limits) stand, as well.
This can also tie in the stubborness mentioned as, well, can you imagine teaching Lucio? Asra backs this up by saying nothing he has ever said stuck with Lucio, and you know how Lucio gets when things don't go his way. He would've blamed his inability to learn on Asra, likely.
Looking to other quotes mentioned: the 'broke him' line still rings to me like he was trying to use Asra in other ways, and the 'coward' line could go either way from refusing to teach Lucio certain things, or refusing to do certain things for Lucio when he was merely being used. The "impossible" line could also go for others, as trying to teach someone like Lucio would've undoubtedly caused some head butting.
This is certainly really exciting and interesting to me as it gives a more complete picture on the exact situation at hand here. I still stay by my reasoning for Lucio simply using Asra as well on top of being taught because it seems highly likely that Lucio would've been too impatient to learn to do certain things himself, and like I said as well, I don't doubt he also just wanted to see what Asra was REALLY capable of. Something he could've saw as a tantalizing insight into the kind of power he could aquire of this kid would just... work with him.
NOW we have a MUCH clearer answer as to what exactly Asra was likely doing under Lucio, or at this point, almost certainly doing. It's a sad picture for Asra of course, but with this you can draw some interesting points as to how he could've been affected by this, as I'm sure it would've left some kind of imprint on him.
Sure it may not have been as traumatic as what Muriel went through, but when you look at it, it's hard to say it DIDN'T leave it's scars. If we consider all the points presented in this post truth we have:
A 12/13 yo homeless child, threatened with his friend's life to work for the Count that he knew was the one responsible for orphaning him and making him homeless in the first place.
Said child believing his parents are still alive, and as we see in Travel at Night, could very likely still be trying to find them. In a situation like Asra's that glimmer of hope probably was a big deal in helping him push on. This may also be a reason he agreed on top of Muriel's safety.
While working under the count, he is told that his parents were executed, no doubt devastating. The manner in which this was mentioned is up for debate, and could affect exactly how it was taken. Options could be Lucio joking or bragging about it (treating it as trivial or an accomplishment), or using it to threaten Asra, (as in I killed your parents, I'll kill you too,) both would work when it comes to controlling by fear.
It is also mentioned that Lucio told him the reason for his parents execution is that they messed up his gold arm, so Asra also has the knowledge that his parents were killed over something so unbelievably trivial.
Being used as a source of power and nothing else, both for teaching and pure work/entertainment, all for the man who killed his parents, day after day.
Being pushed to physically painful and mentally draining limits, expending so much energy that he completely exhausts himself, day after day.
Likely taking all sorts of verbal abuse from Lucio, day after day.
Like mentioned earlier, it seems clear that Lucio wanted to break Asra, so some other form of trying to chip away at his psyche to make him more convenient for Lucio is likely as well.
Those points alone, to yet again a CHILD no less, seem more than enough to cause some traumatic impact, and depending on certain specifics of what exactly went on during that time, it could be worse. I may make a post looking into the long lasting effects of this on Asra, I may not. It would mostly be headcanon regardless. If you want to add your hc relating to this situation though, I'll gladly reblog it!
And now that we are closing out, it's time to revise my summary. So, without further ado, THIS is what I think was going on during this time.
Lucio knows of Asras existence and parentage.
Lucio learns Asra is around and that he's got power.
Lucio LOVES power, so he threatens Asra into working for him.
Lucio uses Asra for his power and to be taught how to use it for himself.
While using Asra for his knowledge and power, runs him into the ground by pushing his limits to physical and magical degrees, possibly even moral.
Asra pushes back against a lot of this, or is at least percieved to, frustrating Lucio.
Lucio does what he can to try and control Asra even more, primarily via fear, but can't seem to crack him.
Eventually it's too much, and Asra leaves. Likely when the plague hit like Muriel, but it's possible it could've been somewhat sooner. Lucio is PISSED, because he wanted that magical power all to himself.
Less related, I can see Lucio trying to brush it off and pretending to be fine with it, excuse being "he was too difficult to work with, anyways," or something.
...And then... years later, as far as Lucio sees it, Asra comes crawling back- and he's tamed down to a degree! He's actually working with him. Lucio might not know what or who did it, but Asra is finally broke for him, and I'm sure he was absolutely ecstatic to have that power back in his hands- and more than ever before.
Think of all of this as you would like!
At the end this is all still speculative, so definitely feel free to make your own points or say if you feel any different abt anything- expansions or counters on this theory/headcanon welcome!
And if you also have any other screenshots or info not here that could add to the theory or change the outlook of certain things definitely add them!!! I feel like I'm missing stuff for sure, and my memory has probably muddled some things (hopefully I didn't get anything wrong, though.)
And @asrascherry thanks for the offer in helping word my hcs also! I forgot to say that. This one is just so long I wouldve felt bad bringing it all to you 😔 it's probably still messy as a result but I tried lmao (worried it's repetitive or unclear 😬)
Uh yeah! That's mostly it for NOW.
+All the love to Asra for going through so much I'm so sorry bb,,
Thanks for reading!
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White.
Author’s Note: First Chris Oneshot. It was supposed to be a blurb/drabble, but I think its a bit too long for that now. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this filth. Also you ever get that feeling, where you feel like you've came up with an idea in your head originally, but also feel like you may have seen it somewhere else? Yea that's how I feel about this piece. So if you've read something similar to this, please link it and let me know so I can edit or delete this post altogether.
Summary: Chris greets you after a long day at work, with some TLC.
Word Count: 2.9k.
Warning: Fluff and Smut. Oral (female receiving), fingering, Semi-mean Daddy Chris, over-stimulation, multiple orgasms, and I think...maybe that’s it? Please let me know if I forgot something.
Disclaimer: Gif is not mine.
“The kids are asleep?” You whispered, when he held his finger to his lips upon your arrival.
“Yea, I just laid Ezra down. That is one rowdy little person.” He said chuckling, leaning down to plant a kiss on your mouth. He held you by your waist to pepper more along your face.
“Chris baby, you are a God-send.” You sighed, leaning in to his touch. “You will not believe the shitty day I had.”
“Hold that thought and take a seat, doll” he ordered, urging you towards the living room by your shoulders. “I’ll be right back.” He promised.
You sighed as you threw your work bag down on the love chair beside you, kicking your shoes off in the process. When you crossed the room to drop down on the sofa, the weight of today’s events crushed you instantaneously, as you waited for your husband to return.
You’ve been married for six years, and he’s been good to you for all of them. Great even. He always listened, and almost never complained. How could he when he was usually away, due to his job?
He was forever busy with filming, press tours and whatnot. It made him feel guilty to leave you and your sons so often. So any time he was at home for a break, he took full advantage. He spent time with his boys, and then the rest with you, spoiling you all with his love.
Preoccupied with your stress, you almost failed to notice Chris taking a seat in front of you. He took hold of one of your legs, and that’s when you noticed your spa-kit placed next to him.
“Baby, you don’t have to do this.” You cried, scrunching your face in relief when he rubbed your calf in just the right spot.
Chris flashed those pretty baby blues at you, along with that signature smug smirk. “You know I do. And you know I want to.” He said, before dousing his hands with oil.
As he firmly massaged the coconut into your skin, you couldn’t help but marvel at him. Taking a pillow into your arms to hug, and hide your giddy smile, you reply with, “What I did I do to deserve you?”
“Well I would tell you, but I don’t have enough time, because you’ve got to tell me about what’s got my girl so upset.” He informed you with a stern look that read who do I have to kill? “Before you do that,” he started, placing your newly moisturized leg down before grabbing the other, “Choose a color.”
You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, peering over to take a look into the open basket. It had an assorted amount of different nail polishes and products for nail care. Your favorite color currently decorated the bottom of the basket, and it made you recall the time your oldest son Jeremy spilled its contents over while playing a game of “paint” about a week ago. That boy. You thought, shaking your head playfully. Well I guess I won’t be choosing that one.
After a moment of close examination, and scrutiny, you chose “White”, which made Chris immediately stop his measures against your legs, to peer up at you through hooded lids.
“So its one of those days, huh.” He smirked. “I was hoping you’d pick that one.”
“What do you mean by that?�� You questioned. You hadn’t known he preferred certain colors on you.
“I’ll tell you later, but first tell me about your day baby.”
He didn’t need to tell you twice. You were dying to get it all off your chest. You spilled out your hearts content, as your husband massaged your legs, then your feet, and in between your toes. As he delicately removed the old paint from your last session, and proceeded to paint your feet, you were almost finished relaying the message.
“…and its just like they treat me like I’m insane! But you know what? The way i’m always overlooked, and ignored, makes me feel like I am going insane. Every time I suggest an idea, its stupid. But let some asshat say the exact same thing, and they praise him like a god.” You complain, rolling your eyes, at your memories from your work day.
Chris offered you the occasional nod or two, humming softly at your cries of frustration when needed. And as much as he wanted to offer his two cents on the matter, he knew that what you wanted most was to be heard. You just wanted to be listened to. And while you wouldn’t of minded him beating their asses, he knew you needed his tenderness. His love. His care. And so that’s what he gave you.
“And you know why they do it right? It’s because I’m a woman! A black one at that. Lord Jesus, it pisses me off so much.” You sigh, finally bringing your eyes down to him, after they had been trained on the air and nothingness around you; you had a habit of re-living stories as you told them. “But honey, this has really helped out a lot.” You say, cupping his chin lovingly.
“You know I’ll do anything for you doll. And fuck those sons of bitches. They’re idiots if they can’t see how amazing you are. If you quit, like I suggested a while ago, that’ll really show ‘em.” Chris exclaimed, applying a second coat of white.
“Now you know I love what I do. I just wish I was more appreciated is all!”
He gave you a sympathetic look before saying, “well you know me and the boys appreciate you.”, running his fingers along the ridges of your toes to remove the misapplied dye on your skin.
“I know you do baby. I mean look at what you’re doing for me now.” You said, gesturing towards the care he took with your feet.
Chris just smiled in response. He only felt slightly defeated when you rejected his idea to stay at home. You told him many stories about the jerks you worked with. You were among one of the only women at your company, and you paid for that fact daily. You told him, how they would talk to you, and treat you, even though you had the same amount, if not more experience as they did. He didn’t want you to have to put up with that. He wanted you to kick your feet up and enjoy the life he would provide for you and the kids you both created. But, like the supportive husband he was, he honored your wishes to pursue your passions. He knew that was what made you happier at the moment. The time would come, where he could spoil you completely, though.
“Speaking of this,” You started, motioning towards your feet once more. “What’d you mean when you said “So it’s one of those days, huh”” You asked, putting on your best impression of him.
Chris put on a smile that could light up a room, as a deep throaty chuckle erupted from his chest, and vibrated through your body via your feet. “Is that what you think I sound like? No matter, I’ll tell you what I meant. I can predict exactly what it is you need, and how you feel, based on the nail polish color you choose.” He said confidently, picking up a clear polish to apply the final coat.
“Is that right?” You ask, failing to take him seriously, even when he flashed that cocky grin and brow twitch that he often used to back his claims. “You’re so full of shit.”
“Seriously. I can. Listen.” He informed you, opening the clear polish, and brushing the access paint along the insides of the bottle. “I can prove it.”
“Fine! Go ahead.” You state, becoming intrigued.
Delicately holding your left foot against his knee, he starts explaining his theory while applying polish. “You see, when you choose a pale blue or orange, I know you just wanna forget about things with a movie or a cuddle session. Forest green or black, when you feel like throwing a couple of shots back with your girls at a bar. Mauve and a nude of any kind are your favorites, and you request them when you need to feel in control, classy, or sophisticated. And you always choose a soft pink, or yellow, when you need a happy reminder, or a burst of energy and inspiration. Lavender, is a color I wish you’d choose more, since it represents your happiness. Gray, is a color I wish you’d choose less, since it means you’re sad. And then there’s plum purple and candy apple red, two colors I can’t get enough of. You want those, when you’re feeling sexy. See, baby I can read you like an open book.” He declared, moving on to your second foot. Feeling quite sure of himself.
You just stared at him in awe. Then you realized he didn’t mention, the one he just spent ten minutes applying. “You forgot about white.”
“Oh I didn’t forget angel.” He corrected, smirking as he finally finished painting both feet. “I’m just waiting on your toes to dry.” After he says this, he begins to sensually blow cool air on your toes.
“Chris! Tell me what it means!” You pout playfully, growing fed up with his secrecy. Also tickled from the air he blew.
“Fine. But be quiet, you don’t wanna wake those little demons.” He warned, fixing you with a stern look that made you erupt into quiet giggles. He always made you laugh with his juxtaposed funny-seriousness. He was seriously funny. “White is my absolute favorite. You wanna know why? Its simple, and doesn’t drown out your pretty personality. It goes with every outfit, purse, and hairstyle. You wear this color, when you’re frustrated. Exasperated. Annoyed. You choose white, when you need me to wrap those pretty little legs around my neck, so I can make you cum till kingdom come. Or until you see, ‘white’. Whichever comes first”. He finished, staring at you seriously all of the sudden. A thick silence had befallen the two of you, and you almost didn’t know how to escape it.
After a moment, you break out into a smile, despite Chris’ unmoving features. “Are you sure that’s what I want? Or is it something you want?”
“It’s what you need.” He affirmed, finally matching your expression, only his smile held a lot more lust than yours. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“I’ll tell you something alright, Chris. I think you paint my nails entirely too much.”
He lets out a breathy chuckle, moving to pack up the spa kit, before saying “So in other words I’m right.” He rises to his feet, peering down through his long lashes with a knowing grin, before turning to leave the room. But not without saying, “Don’t worry baby, I’ll give you what you need.” Leaving you an anxious mess.
You start squirming in your seat, waiting with anticipation for him to return. You try to sit in your sexiest pose, but it makes you feel awkward. Then you start to wonder if you should remove your underwear. But you know he likes doing that. You even wonder if you smell okay, after such a long day at work. A million thoughts race through your mind, and you barely register his presence when reenters the room. You slightly jump, when you feel his warm hands brush against the nape of your neck.
“Shit baby.” Chris laughs, as he rounds the couch. “I knew it was bad, but I didn’t realize how bad. Let daddy, handle this for you.” He says kneeling back in front of you, knees tucked firmly under his person. He smoothes his hands over the expanse of your soft supple skin, leaving a burning trail of desire in his wake. When he hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of your panties, your breath hitches as the cool air hits your moistened sex.
You lift your thighs and legs, so he can carefully remove the lace without ruining his handwork on your feet. When Chris surveys your dampened panties and inhales their scent, his grin grows wider. “You’re already this wet for me?”
He gives you no time to answer as he’s pulling you closer to his face, by your thighs. The sudden movement caused a whimper to escape your throat, soft sound making his cock harden. He’s working his kisses up against your thighs with a quickness, ready to produce more sounds like the last.
Your head’s position on the couch has you feeling a bit awkward, and you go to say “This is uncom—” but cut yourself off with a moan, as he dives his thick tongue between your petals, writing love notes against the skin.
“What’s that, doll?” Chris asks, hot breath dangerously close to your bud.
You just mewl in response, wetting his beard with your juices, as he eats you like you’re his last meal. “Right there baby.” You groan, grinding yourself against his mouth when his tongue darts against your nub.
“Right here?” He questions softly, repeating the same gestures, sending a jolt through your body that makes you buck against his face.
Your words leave your throat, as he sucks harshly against the problem areas, shocks of pleasure emitting through your person. And just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, he adds his fingers. First two, but then three as he starts fucking your pussy.
“D-daddy!” You cry, voice coming out shaky as you writhe against his lips and fingers. His actions have you climbing up the couch.
Then he removes his lips, warning you to keep quiet. “My babies are upstairs, I’m gonna need you to keep your pretty mouth shut.” He commands, placing your soaked panties between your lips.
As he quickens the pace of his fingers, and makes his tongue dart from left to right relentlessly against your clit, you approach your first orgasm of the night, and he knows it too, when your hole clenches around his fingers.
He smiles, and tells you how proud of you he is, but he isn’t done with you yet.
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
Your muffled moans ring through your ears, as you clamp your teeth down around your underwear. Your jaw was becoming slack from keeping it open so long, and you were feeling sore.
Chris was still continuing his assault against your sex. He had long moved from his position on the floor, and now sat beside you on the couch.
He had your legs sprawled open, keeping them from closing with one hand gripped on your thigh, and the other rubbed fast and hard circles against your clit, while he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.
“What number was that one, baby? Five, six? I lost count after the third time, when you squirted on daddy’s chest.” He growled, biting his lip, as he quickened his pace against your nub. “Do you think you can do that again?”
You moaned in protest, shaking your head from left to right, as you approached another orgasm. You couldn’t take anymore pleasure, your sensitive bud was going through too much.
“What’s that baby? I can’t hear you.” He teased, face as serious as it could be. He was testing you. You knew not to remove the underwear, or you’d be there all night. When you made no moves to pull them out, he did it for you, a string of spit connecting your lips to the fabric.
You immediately pleaded with him to ease up. “Daddy I don’t think I-I can take an-nymore.” You cried, now a blubbering mess.
“You don’t think you can take anymore?” Chris repeated, mocking you. “Well that’s too bad. Daddy thinks his princess looks too pretty when she’s cumming. So suck it up, because I’m not stopping until we have to replace this couch.”
You felt that familiar coil in your stomach again, threatening to snap, as you threw your head back. You were a sweating mess now. You had hair glued to your face, and neck, and your shirt was drenched, as it clung to your stomach. But still, it wasn’t quite as drenched as your pussy, thighs, and couch cushions were.
Chris was as hard as a rock, but you knew if you touched him, he’d get angry. He wanted to play with you, until you were begging him to stop.
“What happened today at work again baby? What was it Chad said to you? I bet if I have you fucked out like this every night, I’d be the only man on your mind.” He whispered against your ear.
Your stomach began spasming, as you clenched painfully around nothing. This would be your last one too, before your body gave up.
Tears streamed down your cheek, as you contorted your face into the sexiest expression Chris had ever seen. And then, just before your screams of pleasure could rip through your chest, he covered his mouth over yours, as you squirted all over his hands, your thighs, and stomach. When you finally opened your eyes, you could only see white, before your vision came back into focus.
Massaging the wet, between your folds, Chris bought his fingers up to your lips and said “open.” And you did, sucking all your juices from his digits without breaking eye contact. “Attagirl.” He praised, wiping your tears away. Feel better now?” He asked, small smirk playing on his lips.
You nod tiredly, throat dry from your previous activities.
He brushes your sweaty hair behind your ears before saying, “Good. Now, let’s paint those pretty pink walls white, too.”
#Chris Evans smut#Chris Evans fluff#chris evans x reader#black reader#Chris evans#marvel smut#marvel fluff#captain america#Steve rogers#ransom drysdale
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He’s Not Real, She’s Not Pretending (Johnny Silverhand/OC Female V)
Notes; Sooooooo, I’m posting porn for a game that won’t be out in 20 days, that I just started to seriously look at 2 days ago, but ummmm Johnny Silverhand like fuck man. He’s living rent free in my head both in game and irl. I already have an oc and I really wanted some fuck, so my V is named Aidan, she is a baby and a a slut in this context. This is completely based off oh hey, if we fuck in game, and Johnny in brain, Johnny watch us fuck. And then it spiraled.
Word Count: 4303
Chapter Warnings: Voyeurism, Unprotected Oral Sex, Blowjobs, Cum Swallowing, Protected Vaginal Sex, One Night Stand/Semi Anonymous Sex, Calling out the wrong name, MMF Threesome, but like while he gets laid Johnny is like lowkey cucking this guy but he don’t even know cause he can’t see the man cucking him, its weird, metal fingers on clit, like that’s a thing here, cumming on someone/semi-facial???? And the weirdest thing to explain is like, she’s deaf and takes out her hearing aids, so she’ll only hear johnny since he’s in her head that bypasses hearing damage, so like, disability device being removed for sex????? What is this??? Who knows?????
Edit: I HAD A FUCKIN SENIOR CITIZEN MOMENT AND FORGOT TO MENTION; @enchantedbythebidders IS ALSO TO BLAME BECAUSE SHE HELPED PUT THOUGHTS IN MY HEAD, SO THIS IS NOT ALL MY FAULT!
“Really, this guy?” Johnny scoffs and rolls his eyes, leaning against the bar. Aidan is once again somewhat thankful that no one else can hear the long dead Rockstar that lives in her head.
She pretends she doesn’t hear him either, despite him being the one voice other than her own who she can hear no matter what. The man standing in front of her is attractive, as far as she’s concerned, over 6ft with plenty of muscle and some cybernetics glinting against the side of his shaved head. The alcohol in her system has made it easier to ignore Johnny, but it brings the reason she’s here to the forefront of her mind.
Aidan needs to get laid, plain and simple. She hasn’t had a proper orgasm since Johnny started living rent free in her head. There’s a certain level of embarrassment at just how easily and maybe even unavoidably peeps on her. He pops visibly into the world whenever he feels convienet, for him that is, and seems to make a habit of making sure she knows he’s there when she’s in some state of undress. Johnny’s watched her change without a hint of shame, making comments on her body and laughing at her reactions, like he’s not the weirdo. He’s sat in the bathroom while she showers, talking to her about plans of burning the city down, like she wasn’t fucking naked.
Safe to say, she hasn’t ventured into what would happen if she tried to get off with him around. She doesn’t need him making snide comment while she has a hand in her panties. But, with a hookup, another person and a decent amount of booze. She may just be able to distract and loosen herself up enough that she won’t even notice him, though he has a habit of making himself impossible to ignore. But regardless, the former nomad needs this, she’s constantly tense and finding herself horny at every provocation, her dumb sexually frustrated lizard is even starting to think Johnny’s hot which is not a road she needs to traverse. Talking to the ghost in your brain is one thing, trying to find out if his holographic form comes with a dick is another.
“You do remember I can hear your thoughts, right, Samurai?”
“Is everything okay? You seem distracted?” The guy, who’s name she’s already forgotten, asks. As if she needed more reason to ignore Johnny.
“Oh yeah, sorry, there’s just been something kind of annoying nagging at the back of my mind. But I’m good, you wanna get out of here?”
“Yeah, sounds good, there’s a motel not far from here.”
“What are we waiting for then?”
“Ugh,” Johnny groans and rolls his eyes, evaporating into cyan static as Aidan leaves with her bedmate for the night.
Hands reach up into her bleached bob as the man presses Aidan against the door, his lips against hers, a strangers tongue roaming her mouth. She puts her hand over his, attempting to move it lower, as nice as her hair and face being touched is… This isn’t romance, she wants to be groped, manhandled, to feel him squeeze her ass or shove his hand down her pants. Even at the door before they’ve entered the room, she just wants to get fucked. But he doesn’t get the memo. His hand doesn’t move from cupping the back of her head.
“Didn’t go for brains, did ya?” Johnny’s voice taunts and Aidan bites down harder on the stranger’s buttom lip than needed, her annoyance for Johnny seeping through her actions.
Normally, when someone annoys the everloving fuck out of her, as Johnny is so prone too. She’d remove her hearing aids, submit herself to silence until they get bored and fuck off. But, Johnny’s in her fucking head, his voice echoing through her mind as clearly as her own thoughts, the only noise in this world she can’t shut off.
Aidan reaches behind her, opening the motel door and stepping into it, tugging the guy, what the hell was his name again, in by the bottom of his t-shirt. Kiss broken, she watches as he closes the door behind him, right in the holographic Johnny’s face. If that would actually prevent him from following, she’d be ecstatic. She’s sure he’ll be back in a moment, because he’s never fucking gone for more than a heartbeat. Doesn’t matter, she decides, this isn’t about Johnny. It’s about scratching her itch and cumming. She yank her shirt off over her head and throws her bra after it, whats-his-name, blinks for a moment before his eyes look over her breasts; pale and freckled. It was sudden, a quick cut to the chase, and she knows that.
“I, uh, really fuckin’ need this.” She admits, face flushing.
“Hey, no need to beat around the bush then,” the guy laughs, and he has such a pretty smile, she wishes she remembered his name.
“Fuckin’ hell, you that damn desperate?” Johnny’s laugh mingles with the strangers, now plopped down on a chair in the motel room, “you gonna start humping his leg, next?”
The chair is positioned just across from the small room’s bed, Aidan and her partner standing beside it, between where Johnny sits and the old mattress. Johnny sits casual, strewn with his legs wide open, at the perfect vantage point to stare dead on at Aidan and what-his-face.
“You alright?”
“Yeah, yeah, just that annoying persistent nagging fuckin’ thought,” she grumbles, tapping the back of her head, she’d give anything to rip that fuckin’ chip out right now.
“We don’t have to if you’re-“
“No, no, uh, if you’re still up for it, I really really want this.” It’s so sweet of him to offer to stop and she recognizes that but dear lord that kindness is not what she wants right now. She needs someone to fuck her brains out, so Johnny will leave with them.
“You’d probably be getting laid more if you didn’t act like a nutjob, you know that?” Johnny cuts in, that too pretty cocky smirk across his face. And he probably heard that too, fuck.
“Okay, if you’re sure,” the stranger says, pulling his shirt off over his head, Aidan’s eyes following down the line of hair that vanishes into his jeans. She kicks off her boots and starts unbuttoning her jeans, waiting for him to get the message. As nice as his chest is, she needs his dick, like yesterday. In her mouth, her cunt, anywhere, she just fucking needs it.
“I’d be puking if I could,” Johnny taunts again, but he’s laughing dark and deeply, no hint of disgust, “really had to wind up in a cock whore’s head, didn’t I?”
He could always leave, she nearly tells him so, but stops herself. Knowing it’d confuse and or frighten her hookup. Instead, she kicks off her jeans, leaving her in nothing but her panties as the stranger starts to undo his own jeans. Her thighs are clenching and she’s already slick.
“My entire existence is in your head, so no, I can’t help but see your little show. So, if I’m stuck watching it, I might as well have some fun with it too.”
He wants to see a fucking show? She can give him a goddamn show.
Stranger drops his jeans, kicking out of them along with his shoes. And Aidan doesn’t hesitate to drop on her knees in front of him, she’s practically drooling as she pulls down his boxers, hearing him curse above her. He’s already hard, leaking pre-cum, and hot in her grasp. She licks up the length the next moment, dragging the silver ball piercing in her tongue along it, wetting the underside with drool.
“Oh fuck…”
“Fuck.”
Johnny’s and the stranger’s curses mingle, she tries not to worry about what the forgotten rockerboy is thinking, why he’d curse like she’s drooling on his dick and not a rando’s. Whatever he’s going through is his own fucking problem, he’s the one who wanted to treat her like his own personal porno flick. She teases her tongue across the head of his cock, licking along every curve of it, then lapping where pre-cum drips out. Aidan gives a moan when she tastes it, trying to convince her bedmate it’s the best thing she’s ever had. And while it’s more a faint bitterness, the mere fact she’s tasting cock makes her insides clench.
She looks up with big gray eyes, her pick of the night has his eyes closed, biting his lip at the feeling of her on his dick. And then she takes him down her throat, gagging softly at the resistance there as she pushes her head down further. Determination, she takes him until her nose is flushed to his hips. Her jaw aches at the stretch but she ignore it in favor of swallowing around his dick, letting the muscles squeeze around him. It’s hot and heavy in her mouth, twitching in and leaking in her throat. Aidan holds still for a moment, just swallowing and moving her tongue around him, imagining how the length of him will fit inside of her cunt.
Then the ache is a bit too much, the need to breath a bit too strong, and he’s murmuring curses as she pulls off of him completely. She keeps her mouth open wide, panting and showing off the way saliva still connects her mouth to his cock.
Johnny curses and she sees him in the chair from her peripheral, watching with heavy lidded eyes as she sucks cock. She spares a side glance at a shift of movement, silver arm glinting as it catches the light, she realizes he’s rubbing his own cock through his pants. There’s a noticeable tent forming, which may answer a previous question… Her face goes brighter red, but she pushes through, this isn’t about Johnny or at least it shouldn’t be.
And she’s back on the stranger’s dick, sucking him off in earnest as she bobs her head up and down the length of him. Never quite as deep as the first swallow, but she moves as far down his cock as her new pace will allow. Occasionally feeling the head teasing the back of her throat. Fingers entangle with her hair as she reaches a hand to play with his balls, squeezing and massaging them, his groans have gotten louder, testicles drawn tight. He has to be close, she wants her reward for a job well done.
“I’m gonna cum…fuck…” He warns and she pulls back for a second, gently clenching the base of her cock between her fingers to help stop him from shooting his load right that minute.
“You want to cum on me or in my mouth?” She gives him his options and he whines, she expected to be the one tossed around and fucked raw, but it’s becoming more obvious she picked out a guy who’d rather be bossed around a bit. Even if it’s not what she was looking for, she’ll take it, happily.
“Can’t fuckin’ think right now,” he groans, “just wanna cum, please.”
“On your face and tits,” Johnny says, low and husky, making it clear he has no trouble making a choice. Though, judging by his cock still being tucked away in his leather pants, he’s not quite as cum-brained as her hookup.
And after a moment of considering Johnny’s request, Aidan wraps her lips around the man’s dick and gives a hard suck, letting go of the pressure around him. He groans as he cums directly down her throat, hot heavy spurts of it on her tongue. She swallows every last drop, not letting any of it touch her face or chest.
“Bitch.”
She swallows the last bit, grinning at Johnny’s insult, as she strokes the stranger through the last of his after shocks. Aidan stands up, she’s still in her panties, now soaked through with slick. She turns to face the bed, her ass now to Johnny and her hookup, allowing them a view as she purposely bends over to peel her panties off. Allowing both men to see her slick aching cunt; panties in hand, she turns back to face them. And she tosses them at Johnny with a devious smirk, to the unnamed stranger, she threw them to empty chair. But her and the ghostly anarchist, within their own reality that exist merely due to a chip in her head, her panties landed in his lap. His hand grabbing the wet black silk and wrapping them around her fist.
She’s not sure how it works, far from a techie in her knowledge, but she can see him interact with objects. From smoking cigarettes to leaning his weight against whatever he sees fit, after all if he couldn’t interact with anything in the physical world he’d phase through the chair, floor, and everything around them. But to everyone else it’s not seen, the objects just laying flat and useless.
The stranger’s hand grasps her hip, in her personal space within the moment, having stroked his cock back to full erection.
“Want me to return the favor?” He offers to eat her out and she’s surprised at the heat that rushes up her cheeks, despite just slobbering on his cock the question makes her blush.
“Let him do it,” Johnny says with a drawn out groan, her panties still in his hand as he undoes his belt and pulls his cock out, “wanna see you get licked.”
Would have though he’d have learned by now, she’s not interested in fulfilling his requests.
“Fuckin’ really,” he curses out at the thought, realizing he won’t get what he wants from her and he can’t do anything about it. His voice is edged and sharp, a hint of anger.
“Appreciate the thought, but I need you in me, bad. That okay?”
“Sounds good, I got a condom in my jeans, give me a second.” He starts to rifle through his abandoned jeans and jacket, Aidan clenching her thighs as she waits, she’s finally about to get what she needs most.
“He’s not gonna fuck you right.”
She tries hard not to audibly groan at Johnny’s words or watch the slow drag of his hand over his cock. Then she notices the black fabric he presses against himself, using to jerk himself off, her panties. Aidan likely deserves that, but she’s more distressed over the way it makes her insides clench than worries of the fabric. Though given what he is, she’ll probably find them virtually untouched later.
“I’m serious, Samurai, he’s not gonna give you what your after. He’s too soft for you, can’t fuck you the way you need.”
Shut up, Johnny, she rolls her eyes letting the sentiment ring out in both of their minds.
“Got it,” her date, if you can call it that, returns with condom in hand, she takes it from his hand.
“Lay back on the bed, I’ll take care of everything,” she tells him.
“Yes, ma’am,” he says and god if she wasn’t so desperate the words could have dried her up quicker than the Sahara. Even when she wants control, that is not a nickname she cares for. Johnny laughs when she wrinkles her nose.
“Told you so, ma’am.”
“Don’t call me that,” she says to both to her hookups earnest slip up and Johnny’s condescension.
“Sorry,” her hookup offers as moves to straddle him, her back to his view.
“It’s okay, we’re strangers, don’t know everything about each other.” Her voice is a little kinder as she rolls the condom down his length, listening to the little inhales of air as he feels her touch.
“Hmmm, wouldn’t be nicer with someone who does, someone who knows it all, someone in your head.” Johnny has moved, zipped, to stand at the foot of the bed. So, he can watch her more clearly she assumes. His cock and her panties are still in his hand.
She ignores him, instead moving to hover over the stranger’s cock, letting the head just tease her slit open. Aidan whimpers and whines, unable to help it at the feeling of being stretched open as her weight comes down slowly onto his dick. Inch after inch sliding into her, pressing at her deepest parts. Despite some kinks misaligning, he fits nicely inside of her, helping scratch the itch.
“A nice dick don’t mean anything if they don’t know how to use it,” Johnny taunts again, his gaze is hot on her skin, “I know everything you’ve been wanting, everything that you dream of that gets you going and makes you whimper, and I know for a fact this guy isn’t gonna give it to you.”
‘Fuck off’ she mouths the words, despite knowing he can just hear her think them, she starts to bounce herself on the stranger’s cock, chasing her pleasure as she fucks herself on him. But she doesn’t miss how Johnny starts to stroke himself faster, nearly matching the pace she’s set for herself.
“Might as well be ridin’ a toy.
“Fuck… you feel so good,” the man beneath her groans just as Johnny starts to mock his prowess.
“Good? That’s all he’s got is good?”
“Fuck…”
Aidan closes her eyes, trying to shut out the image of Johnny if nothing else, while both men’s voices ring out, audible even over her own whines of pleasure, she tries to focus on how good it feels to finally be full. Bouncing her ass harder as she rides the stranger’s cock, hoping somehow the smack of flesh against flesh, the creak of a bed could drown them both out.
“Bet your tight, a wet little vice wrapped around his cock.”
“Fuck…faster please…”
“He’s probably already close, feeling the way you stretch around him, watching the desperate little way you fuck yourself on his dick.”
“Hnnnn, fuck..”
The two men’s voice go back and forth, a mess in her head, an overwhelming mess where Johnny’s words edge her further but the noises of her hookup stir up guilt, how could she get off to him being shamed? How could she get off on Johnny’s taunts and teasing, why does every word he say stoke a fire deeper inside of her, make her wetter, and push her closer to edge. While the man she’s actually fucking only seems to set her back on that journey.
Johnny isn’t real. She tries to tell herself, not physically, he only exists to her. Aidan should focus on what real and here and beneath her, but everything draws her back to the phantom in her head.
Despite how close she is, she can’t cross the precipice, a wall built up in her core that won’t let her cum. That tension in her stomach refuses to snap, refuses to allow her the pleasure, the rush of endorphins, she’s been so desperate for. She fucks herself up and down as hard as she can, the smack of skin hitting skin echoing, and she’s sure she’ll bruise herself in her desperation. Tears of sheer frustration build in her eyes, why can she just fucking cum?
A hand cups her face, flesh and warm, vaguely slick with sweat or precum, she doesn’t know. But Aidan opens her eyes, looking straight up at Johnny. His dark brown eyes look down at her, dark hair falling into his face.
“Take out your hearing aids for me?” For once his voice comes with a little upward inflection, insinuating a question and not a demand.
“Huh?”
“I want to be the only thing you hear right now.”
And this time she listens, throwing one quick look over her should at her hookup, his eyes closed and head tossed back in the pillows, lost in the feeling of her around him; Aidan gently pulls out her hearing aids and the world goes quiet. No more sounds from him, not even the faint whirr of the fluorescent lights, or the slap of flesh.
“Good girl,” Johnny says, his voice ringing out as clear as ever, for it comes from her own brain. The praise makes her clench and whimper, the kind of attention and names she likes best. He leans his forehead to hers, his hair tickling her face.
He’s not real, but he feels real. She feels his skin, hears his voice, can smell the cigarette smoke on his breath. And she feels metal fingers, cool as they pushing against her slick cunt, finding her swollen clit with ease. She whines, as he rubs her, stroking friction against her nerves.
“So fucking wet, you’ve wanted my hands on your for a while, haven’t you?” He teases, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.
“Yes,” she lets him hear it in voice and thought.
“He may be inside you, but I’m the one who’s gonna make you cum, you got that?”
“Yes, yes, fuck, please,” she whimpers, fucking herself and grinding against Johnny’s fingers. Every bounce and rub of his fingers pushes her closer to the edge.
“Who’s gonna make you cum?”
You, Johnny. She thinks but doesn’t dare say it, for fear of the man beneath her hearing, even in the throes of pleasure, she needs to be rational, Johnny isn’t real and if she starts screaming the name of a ghost while she cums…
“Say it, out loud,.” His fingers slow their movement, nearly stopping their motion altogether, his threat clear and she fucking needs this.
“Johnny!” Another hard rub before she’s finished the first syllable and his name becomes a scream, the tension snaps, the bubble of pleasure pops, and she’s overwhelmed by her pure euphoria. Toes curled and squirming she finally finds her release, cumming around the man inside of her, mind going blank for a moment.
Then the fog in her brain starts to lift, aftershocks coming and going, she can feel the condom bloated with cum inside of her…. Johnny is laughing, chuckling a rich and warm sound, and oh god she said his name.
Aidan puts her hearing aids back in, clenched in her sweaty fist this entire time, trying to do so quick enough that it isn’t noticed and she can catch anything he may say.
“…ohnny?”
She catches the very end of it and oh no, oh no. Johnny’s still laughing.
“Hmm, didn’t quite catch that, something wrong?” She tries to act nonchalant, like she just missed it, as she pulls herself off his cock. The emptiness makes her whine, but she may need to detach herself from this situation as soon as possible.
“Who’s Johnny?” He asks again as she turns to face him on the bed, the stranger’s eyebrow raised. He doesn’t seem mad, just genuinely confused.
“Yeah, who’s Johnny?” The old rockerboy says, smirking and how he can look so cocky with his dick still hard and out, she has no idea. Why is she even thinking about his dick, she catches herself, that’s oh lord.
“Uhhh, why do you ask, who said anything about a Johnny?”
“You did, loudly, while you came.”
“Uhhhh….”
“He got you there.”
“Look,” the guy says, smiling kindly, “like, if you’re hung up on some other dude, it’s cool, like you said, we’re strangers. But, uh, if you’re thinking that much about this Johnny guy, you should probably just like talk to him about it.”
“I’m not hung up on, Johnny, I assure you.”
“Hmmm, debateable,” Johnny taunts and she’s gonna rip this fucking chip out of her brain if it kills her.
“Say what you want, but I clearly wasn’t the guy on your mind tonight.”
“Hard to compete with the guy who’s in her mind.”
“Uh, yeah, I guess, sorry…”
“No worries,” he says and she’s continuously thankful he can’t hear Johnny’s snide ass remarks, “I’m gonna grab a shower then head out, rooms already paid for if you wanna chill here.”
And her one night stand gives her a friendly tap on the shoulder, like they’re bros and his dick wasn’t just inside of her, then heads to the motel bathroom. Aidan collapses on the bed, face flushed and struggling to accept the mess of a night.
Then a weight settles over her, Johnny suddenly straddling her sternum, knees on either side and pressing into the bed before he sits his weight fully on her. His cock is still hard and leaking, has been the entire time, now smearing precum hot into her skin.
‘The fuck are you doing?’ she mouths, glaring up at him.
“What no love for the guy you’re so hung up on?”
The shower starts up in the background, which should block out the sound of her talking to the ghost currently stroking his dick over her tits. The head flushed red and his pace quickening, he’s been shifting pace back and forth this entire time, no doubt he’s close to bursting.
“I fuckin’ hate you, you know that?”
“I know for a fact you don’t,” he groans beneath his breath, as his cock twitches in his hand, “besides, told you where I wanted to cum.”
“Y-Ahh!”
He curses beneath his breath and she yelps as it hits her, cum splattering across her chest and face. It certainly feels real, hot and thick across her breasts and chin, salty when her tongue swipes away a drop that hit her lip. But no one else but her and him would ever be able to even see it…
Images of being able to walk around Night City filled and covered in his cum, with no one else even knowing flicker across her mind.
“You’re not even pretending to hate me anymore, are you?” He’s grinning wickedly, face flushed beneath the dark scruff of his beard, long hair sticking to his forehead. And she can’t find in her to disagree.
#cyberpunk 2077#cp2077#johnny silverhand#have i been kicked out of the fandom before the game comes out?#okay cool
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we all knew this was coming and I’m a sentimental bitch. I just wanted to write all my mutuals some little messages about how much I love you. you guys have changed my life and I am so grateful for each and every one of you!!!💕💞💓💗💖💘 anygays have fun searching for yourself in this mess and I’m sorry for any typos, I’m illiterate (and if i forgot you it’s because i lost my brain in 1912)
@cr1spyy fernanda, my first ever mutual. who would have thought that your 5th wave posts would have brought one of the most amazing people in my life to me. your posts always make me laugh and your dedication to the good morning asks is admirable (fr I could never have that much consistency) you’re so kind to everybody and you’re absolutely beautiful and incredible and I fucking love you so much. I honestly don’t even want to think about what my life would be like if I had never met you, MWAH💕🤍
@sundaymorninghangover I remember you being my first ever note!! you liked this post I made that was a reblog of a “uquiz” that was actually a rickroll lmao. you didn’t even follow me back then but whatever. Then I remember waking up one day to see that you had tagged me in a bingo ask game and I was like “ummm tf is an ask game” but I do still have a bingo card for it that I never used ekenksjs. anygays, you have good opinions on everything and you’re absolutely fucking hilarious. If you told me back in may that I would be friends with you I wouldn’t believe it bc you intimidated me but regardless I’m glad to be an arson gang member with you. your memes are god tier and so is your music taste. I love you whore!!!!!🖤💜
@sound-and-colors ma’am you’re so nice and for what??? the aesthetic stuff that you reblog is *chef’s kiss* and nobody else is out there doing it like you. we’ve never talked but I just know that you are absolutely incredible mwah❤️💛
@embeddedinmybrain tasfia you are the nicest person on his hellsite and you know it (I hope). It was so much fun being your secret admirer anon while it lasted, like fr I loved it. Your art is beautiful just like your heart and i honestly don’t know what I did to deserve such a kind soul like you in my life. You’re always there to hype me up and ily (also just cut your own hair already I believe in you)🤍💙
@gumptin you hooked me with your suus icon and reeled me in by being the coolest and funniest person ever. your posts are consistently hilarious, accurate, or relatable and I admire that. I mean it when I say you’re one of the coolest people on here. idk what I did to have you think I’m cool but I’m honored nonetheless. also you have really awesome style and hair jdnjdjdjd mwah💚💛
@nori-in-pink first and foremost, your blog always has a very nice aesthetic and I feel like I need to acknowledge that. anyway, you are so kind and supportive and you don’t take any bullshit and that is absolutely amazing. you are absolutely iconic and always reblog the best stuff so I know I can count on your blog to be fantastic. you used to scare me (idk why don’t ask) but now I know that you’re just a big teddy bear ily💗💜
@matteohnora my slurpee queen and my mememate!! you always send me the funniest shit and it doesn’t go unappreciated. You’re always there for me with a silly meme or emotional support and I don’t think I’ve ever told you how grateful I am for that. whenever you stalk my blog it makes my heart go whooosh and I feel so special. Ily and I am so glad to have met you💜❤️
@lieverobbe ah yes, the girl with the impeccable music taste. that’s what I know you as, oh well. you are more talented and kind than you could ever believe and your edits are amazing!!! whenever I see you on my dash I get all happy bc I’m like “em’s here!!!” I love all your lil posts and I am so glad that you are my mutual ilyyyyy💙🤍
@ironymane you’ve watched limitless which automatically makes you amazing. you’re an absolutely incredible and amazing person and even tho you aren’t on here as much anymore, I still love youre lil posts. And one time you kept me entertained on a 6hr car ride so you deserve some kind of award for that. ly🧡💛
@kingarthurpendragons okay the obvious thing to talk about here is your incredible talent when it comes to gif making. Like how in the hell- but you are also so kind and loving and it doesn’t go unnoticed. You don’t have to send nice asks but you do and ily for it mwah!!❤️💗
@engelkeijsers the skam nl stan that we all deserve to have in our lives. you are so fucking hilarious and relatable and all around amazing and for what? your posts always put a smile on my face and it is so much fun to clown with you. ilyyyy💚💛
@happiness-isin-you let’s ignore the fact that it took me forever to realize that this was your main lmao. your art is some of the most beautiful shit I’ve ever seen. like your style is so cool???? I could literally go on about this for hours don’t test me. the cute animal pictures are the absolute best and you’re always there for emotional support. Ilyyyyyyy💛❤️
@isakyaqi fiz you are so kind and talented and cool and I really do mean all that. You reblog always the best of content so I know I can trust it. you always put nice tags in the things you reblog things and it’s fun to read what you write because it’s almost always you hyping up the creator or the thing itself. you are awesome jdjdjdndjjd mwah🖤🤎
@cash-queens sam oh sam. Idek where to start with how much ily. You’re my famous mutual which is very iconic of you and you put up with my cat pictures and my silly antics and my riverdale posts. You’re so kind to me and everybody and whenever I make a post when I’m having a mental breakdown you’re always there to make sure that I’m doing okay. That def doesn’t go unappreciated. You’re legitimately one of the kindest and most amazing people I’ve ever known and I love you so much, more than you could ever know💛🤍
@welcometo-saturn çağrı you’re so cool. end of statement. that’s all I have to say about it. your gifs are so beautiful and you don’t take shit from anybody. you’re so down to earth that it makes it seem like you’re somebody who I’ve just always known (even tho we’ve never talked sjdjdjdjdj) so yeah anyway, you’re are a really awesome person with really good opinions and I am so glad that we are mutuals🧡❤️
@amifeelingokay it’s difficult not to start with your url bc it’s amazing and I love it. your skam posts are always so nice and cute and positive (just like you!!) and I love them. the content you reblog is always aesthetic or a nice text post and I just love your blog okay. ily💜🖤
@isthatelpome you’re so nice that I’m willing to overlook your opinion on salt and vinegar chips (they’re not good I’ll fight you on that) your dani icon is beautiful just as you are, mwahhhh🧡❤️
@earthling-isa babe you are so cute with your lil edits and your clowning. the near constant black and white aesthetic is very iconic and i love it. you’re a suus stan so I have no choice but to love you for it. i absolutely adore your gifs, especially the ones with the lil squares in the middle fygzbgut. you are absolutely beautiful and incredible and kind and I love you MWAHHHH🖤💙
@grey-mist-exist okay we’ve never talked but you seem like such a rad person. not cool but like rad (there are are subtle differences) your art is beautiful even tho idk the quotes (go off smarty pants) and overall you are just really rad, idk how else to say it mwah!!!🤍🖤<pretend it’s a grey heart
@fatoudixon hey look it’s one of the most talented people here!!! You’ve always been so kind and supportive of me and I really really do appreciate it. you have good opinions on everything and did I mention that you’re talented?? cause you are, very. Your reaction videos are amazing and not to mention iconic, just like your hair. anyway, ily and I am so glad that I have somebody as amazing as you as my mutual💙💛
@sander-klaas you are so kind and and you have so much passion. I can always trust you reblog only the best of wtfock and sobbe content which I am very grateful for. you literally just started making gifs and they are so beautiful (okay it was like months ago but whatever dkdjdjjdjdj) anyway, thank you so much for being my mutual mwah❤️💛
@jusdekiwi okay we’ve never talked but you genuinely seem like such a sweet person??? I love the stuff you reblog, it’s always the best gif sets. idk I can just tell you have good taste. I hope to get to know you better in the future, but for now I am very grateful to have you💚💙
@kritiquer my twin!!! you and I have a lot in common so ofc I love you. I’m joking obviously.... anygays you are always so supportive of everybody and you are so sweet. I love all of your personal posts, it always makes me really happy to see what you’re up to and how you’re feeling. I also like the aesthetic stuff you reblog, I have bad taste in all that, clearly you don’t. I am so glad that we started talking and I hope that we continue! ily kit!!!!💜🤍
@bleachblondebitches you aren’t on here that much, but whenever you are I get so happy! Your gifs are beautiful and I think about your sobbe and booksmart parallels gifset every day. you have amazing taste in movies and I love you!💜💙
@lesbeanfatou clara!!! bitch!!!! You already know how much I love you but I guess I’ll reiterate. I honestly don’t know what I did before I knew you. I always remember looking at the no idea blog with the Nora icons like “who is this?” Little did I know back then that you would be one of my closest friends. your support of me means the world and I am so grateful for you. I’m so glad that I have somebody in my life like you to talk to and be friends with. you are one of the funniest people in and I just love you so much I could burst mwah❤️🧡
@gucciboner okay hiii ypu are literally so fucking kind and funny, i admire your sense of humor sm. your art is so beautiful and you are so goddamn talented, it never ceases to amaze me. I also love all the little funny posts you make and reblog!! ily💙💗
@helmtaryn even though you put supernatural on my dash, I am willing to forgive you bc I love you so much. your gifs are so beautiful like ma’am didn’t you just start?? icon shit. your hate for photoshop is iconic and you are awesome. you’re always sending me asks and responding to my posts and you’re so nice and it makes my heart go whooosh. anygays you’re cool and ily💙🧡
@starmansander nina when I tell you that you give off the best vibes- okay sorry I had to start with that. I love how you are so nice and supportive of me, it really means a lot. I really like the stuff you reblog like,,, cool art? pretty women? those hopeful little posts? iconic. also youre a noor stan which is a sign of good taste. love you🤎❤️
@ijzermanora daniiiiiii madam you are so epic and iconic and I really could go on about that forever. you are so kind and you’re following all my joke sideblogs (even the ch*cken l*ttle hate blog??? why???) which is very brave of you. I love reading all of your lil wholesome posts and hearing about school and how much you hate chemistry (even tho you like sushi???) anygays we were already sending memes 10 hours into our mutualship so I think we were soulmates from the very beginning. I love you so much and I have no idea what I did before i knew you💜💗
@alwaysin-myhead okay, you give off cool person vibes and I had to acknowledge that. your art is so beautiful and you are so incredibly talented!!! I hope to get to know you in the future🧡💛
@alexiaugustin here she is!!! the queen of good opinions!!! you are such a smart cookie and you use that power to make long paragraph posts that I can actually read without falling asleep. which is impressive honestly. never has a person been so kind and funny and genius in such a well rounded way (that makes no sense) I’m so happy that I have you in my life ilyyy💚💗
@ijntba hihi you’re such a sweet person and I literally love your skam blog sm. I am so honored that you’re using one of my icons you have no idea. even though I’m confused when you post about anime, I still appreciate your passion lmao. mwah💛🧡
@hidden-joy liz!! you are such a kind soul and I absolutely love looking at the things you reblog and reading all the nice things that you put in the tags, it’s always so sweet and supportive!!! we’re relatively new mutuals, but I do hope to get to know you better in the future!!!💚💛
okay sorry to group y’all together but @fudgetunblr and @alexiswoke I like just became mutuals with y’all but I do love you and I’m glad you’re here and I hope 2021 treats you well and that i get to know you better!!❤️❤️
aaand one last final message for max and sarah, i know yall wont see this but ily🧡 💜
okay yeah I know I already said this but I really do love each and every one of you so much and I am so lucky to have so many amazing people in my life💕💕💓💕💖💖💕💘💕💗💞💓💕💖💖💘💕💓
#MWAH💕#my mutuals are pretty fuckin rad#also don’t tell anyone but the hearts at the end are the colors I associate you with#or they’re as close as I could get#*makes this post*#*goes back to sleep*
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Fate The Winx Commentary
Good morning internet! Today is the drop of Winx: Riverdale edition! I sure hope you're ready for my aggressive and unnecessary commentary, because it is coming for you either way!
The netflix landing page lets us know:
Fate The Winx Saga
6 episodes, 48-53 minutes each
"Genres: Fantasy TV Shows, Teen TV Shows, Italian TV Shows"
"This show is: Emotional"
As mentioned elsewhere, my Winx knowledge is limited, so I will be coming into this fairly fresh and will try to be unbiased. As I have seen trailers, the keyword here is Try.
Episode 1
'To the Waters and the Wild'
CW: Animal Death, Swears, Implied Child Death, Blood, Implied Teen Sex, Burns, Weed, Fatphobia, Whatever the term pussie falls under
Episode 1 TL;DR: We meet everyone, learn their dynamics, have the basics of the magic system beat into us, meet our monsters, and name drop Harry Potter. Standard first episode stuff.
I do want it on record before we start that I got about halfway into the first season of Riverdale, and the first season of Netflix Sabrina. They were, well, bland and boring imo? I did get through a few seasons of Teen Wolf, but that's because it was capable of Fun and Jokes. My current expectations are a few unintentionally funny lines, maybe some almost decent magic effects, and because it's 2021, one whole gay character (I did hear one of the boys (there are boys?) is bi, but also an asshole so I'm hoping for some wlw)
TV-MA LANGUAGE AND SMOKING OH FUCKING BOY
Almost full moon (waxing) in opening shot- I Will be tracking moon inconsistencies if it keeps showing up that is a pet peeve but hey look a bunch of sheep
That's a good start (it's ominous though. don't hurt the sheep)
Swears count: Feckin' 2
Mystical portal barrier. Oh yeah s5 of the magicians is on netflix now
WELP THOSE ARE SHEEP GUTS RIGHT OUT THE GATE HUH For CW it's up a tree, and the dripping blood is a good warning of what's about to be seen
:( oh and then the man who was looking for the sheep dies offscreen save for a spray of blood. THIS ISN'T YOUR CHILD'S WINX CLUB it seems to say. I assume. How much blood was in the original winx because this is already at least a full cup.
(Also the monster noises for whatever was chasing the man (werewolf it was a werewolf trailers are bad guys) were not very good)
Opening credit scene is 5-6 different blooming elemental wings. They're pretty, but it's unclear if the last one is secret 6th member wings (because the second to last ones are fire which is the main character's element right?) so maybe we'll get a late 6th addition? (I am in I.T. please give me the most relatable character you cowards)
KIDS IN THE CORNER BY AMBER VAN DAY PLAYING
I like where they shot this but that might just be european woods pretty. The opening location was nice and mossy save for the sheep blood
Fancy big stone school establishing shots (it's nice, and huge) and we land on a red head who seems less than pleased to be here
Courtyard shot of... whatever the name of the replacment plant girl is, holding a tray of various potted plants for an older man (father? first day of school send off maybe?)
Aisha(?) walks by, not talking to anyone, Stella(?) is taking Magical!Selfies with at least 3 other girls, Musa(?) has a suitcase and headphones and smiles at a passing girl
Oh boy a boy with a pocketknife doing little tricks with it! Nothing says edgy like an actual knife edge.
Gonna take this moment to point out I have some level of face blindness and while the girls all look fairly different from one another, if there is more than one tall blonde white boy as I fear there may be, I WILL NOT be able to tell them apart. Not through maliciousness, just general incompetence, so anything I say about the boy characters (I want to say they're the knights to the girl's faeries? is that right? this whole thing smacks of gender) should be taken with a heap of salt
I've come to accept tv just. displaying text messages on screen as a storytelling method. It's never my favorite but it just Is a modern story element. Also Bloom needs to meet stella at the alfea gates
Alfea I presume is the school- does the name mean something? It sure feels like the word elf and therefore fae but I don't feel like googling anything this early in
Oh look two more blondish tall white boys. Pocketknife was wearing something else i think, one guy has a brown jacket and pink shirt (bad combo), the other looks old even by tv highschool/college standards and his jacket has a jock vibe. Jock jacket also has an earring? Is this the bi character who is an asshole? From this one second of him, only in profile, I will assume yes, he is an asshole
I like Bloom's backpack
Pink shirt looks at Bloom from across the quad. I am already tired of this romance
Cool he walks up to someone he has identified as lost, and is 'impressed with [her] confidence in the face of complete ignorance' COMING OUT OF THE GATE WITH A NEGG HUH PINKY
He even states he wasn't offering help Then Why Are You Talking To Her Jackass
Subs are going with the fairy spelling, and Bloom confirms she is a fairy and we confirm this is College. Unless this is a european thing where they call schools different things. I think that's just for public and private? And maybe just england? I'm American all they teach us is 1492-ww1 over and over for like. 10 years sorry Rest of the World
'What Realm are you from?' 'California' Speaking of ameri-centric, I'm gonna Guess that original Winx, the italian cartoon, didn't have their main character be from cali usa? I am presuming this is a side effect of making this property for a more global distribution than I'm guessing winx was originally conceived as back in the early 00s
The Otherworld. I assume this is the fairy realm and whatnot? And the magic school. Seems to be located behind a magical barrier in the earth realm?? If that's right it seems weird if basically everyone who goes to the school is from the otherworld
Pinky doubles down on his rudeness but in a Fun and Cute way because :/ and the Specialist hall is Very Pretty, oh and there's a fairy hall. Are specialists the boy...things? magi knights? bros of the blade? guys who wear those 'here come a special boy' sneakers from that one comic?
Stella sees this conversation which is great because they drop the term mansplain. why would otherworlders know that term even???
Edgey(?) sees Pinky and they hug it out
Stella knows Americans are the type to wander off so I guess there's a lot of inter-world connections?
Miss Dowling- is this teacher going to be like the pedo in riverdale who got *checks notes* killed off by one of multiple serial killers later on?
Dowling is the headmistress, gotta keep the otherworld a secret from earthers, time and place for portal making. all standard fantasy stuff so far, nothing to make this stand out
Stella has a gateway ring, and frankly isn't too nice? all the backgrounders clothing is Bland and very normal
7 realms of the otherworld, Solaria is where Alfea is, i like magic globe
Incase you forgot this was a modern tale, people update their insta stories here.
'I was kindof bummed I didn't see a single pair of wings' YOU AND ME BOTH BLOOM
'We had wings in the past, transformation was lost, tinkerbell was an air fairy' This is either a cop out for your glittery cowardice, or a set up for the main girls re-finding transformation magic later. I did like the Tink bit
Bloom is a fire fairy and the subtext of this conversation is that bloom's magic did Something bad. I hope it was burn down her old school's gym a la buffy movie
I like miss Dowling but in the I wouldn't Be Surprised if you turned out to be Evil way, and I guess Alfea is a very privileged upper crust school. What types of college do normal fairies go to then huh? damn privileged fairies
'our students have gone on to do amazing things like re-discover long lost magics' We Get It. You will give me Wings, but Only If I'm Patient
Dowling throws a jab at Bloom about power control, but I like her necklace so It's Fine
Bloom video calls her parents while unpacking in the dorm, which may have come pre-fit with a heck ton of board games? Love it. Or new plant girl brought them along with her many plants
Stella has a fancy mirror and lots of jewelry and fashion photos and makeup, Musa has a laptop and apparently not much else, gotta get those establishing personalities down I guess
'Ladies of the Flies honey don't be sexist' Bloom's dad for feminist of the year (these jokes are bad but i guess we can call it a dad joke as justification)
Asiha gives Bloom a look and saves her from the call with her parents- yay friendship step one achieved
Blooms parents think she's in the alps because magic secrets and what not
Aisha asks bloom if she's never read harry potter and I guess Bloom is a potterhead (that's the term right?). Is this self awareness that all magical school fantasy series have the same basic bricks?
Bloom is a ravenclaw sometimes slytherin, Aisha is a Gryffindor
Stella is changing because she's the fashion one and has a fun pastel rainbow skirt, and uses magic to make a real aggressive lamp. She's also a mentor (maybe older than the others by a bit?)
I am assuming Stella here is something along the lines of a diplomats daughter the way she talks about appearances. She better get down and dirty later on to show her growth about how some things are more important than looks yada yada
Fairy magic powered by strong emotions, i am waiting for bloom's backstory to be movie x-men rogue style tragedy
Terra! Which. Of course is the Plant Fairy's name. Stella is a little mean to her about the plants and she takes it with a smile and some subtle snark back using classic literature Oh that's fun
Terra points out the name-plant thing, and name drops her cousin Flora. That's. The one they replaced with Terra right? Terra's dad works in the greenhouse at the school which explains earlier (and her mum is named rose)
Stella is indeed a second year and Musa's eyes change for. Lie detecting magic? and loves her headphones (Overstimulation?)
Aisha wants somewhere to swim and we cut to a 'pond' by specialist training. Assuming she wants to sim because she's a water fairy, why Don't they have a pool? also this pond looks. Unpleasant for swimming
Girl specialist! Does that mean we have boy fairies?
Boys. Fighting. Talking about girls. All gingers are nuts. Thanks edgelord AMAZING SHAGS THOUGH 'I didn't realize your hand was a red-head' it's not truly edge if we don't talk about sex every 10 minutes
Subtitles earlier only said boy 1 boy 2 but now pinky or edgy is Riv
Edgy smokes weed, and pinky is a big brother figure to him, and the head? of the special boys doesn't like edgy. Me neither older guy
Bit of swordplay, more girls, every specialist has black training outfits, very military
Pinky is Sky who is son of Guy of Place. an important lad. without context this is meaningless to me
There's a giggly boy who laughs at the idea of a war in the future and gets a talking to. I suspect this boy will be re-occurring enough to die- he has those tertiary character elements with his intro and such (and he's black so I am prepared for your standard racist murder choices)
Burned Ones exist outside the barrier, which makes me wonder if dead shepard was in the otherworld? There was nothing establishing that he was in any type of Other place but :/
Oh look edgey is having a smoke cross the barrier while we learn about the creatures that live beyond it. Time to find out these creatures no one young has ever seen are still kicking
Specialist leader had to kill his own pa after a burned one got him. They also. Used a shotgun when trying to fight it. Do specialists even have powers or are they just good with weapons?
Edgey finds the shepards corpse. Mostly blood
'it's been 16 years since the last sighting' 'Rosalind killed all the burned ones' ahh magical creature genocide hey when is abarat 4 coming out. and is rosalind hot?
School, gossip, Aisha and Musa are snarking at Tera for thinking the guy died of natural causes because we need to have these characters not actually like each other to make it stand out when they do
Aisha talks about how she eats a lot and if she didn't swim she'd be massive and we cut to the plus sized tera looking uncomfortable are we really doing this?
Tera points out that Musa was ignoring her earlier and it's all just uncomfortable and not great character conflict (but I thought I saw Musa holding an honest to god ipod? it's blue but it could be a phone case. Her hand is in the way)
tera and dad interaction is nice, i'm also convinced they couldn't afford more than 3 magic adults
Girl with braids and metal in her hair! There were witches in winx right? Like 3 minor antagonist girls? I assume this is one of them. Because she has alternative fashion and is therefore evil /s
Beatrix. Names in this series leave something to be desired (that something is subtly. I get it, they're carry overs from a series for a younger audience, she-ra had the same issue, but i can still poke fun)
Swear count: Arsehole 2 Bollocks 1 Shit 1
She's a weird ass kissing with clearly ulterior motives
Bloom is Studying and her notebook is just FAIRY MAGIC POWER = EMOTIONS LOVE FEAR? HARTED? FIRE FAIRY CONTROL? in case you weren't paying attention
Oh a flashback already to the magic triggering event? Her mother had pointed out she's an introvert, and past!Bloom doesn't Party. She goes Antiquing and is a Weird Loner (her 'basic bitch' of a mom's words)
Swear count: Bitch 1
Bad daughter count: 1 Bad mother count: 1 Magic glowy eyes for Bloom: 1
Bloom Hates Parties and asks Pinky I mean Sky where she can be Away from People and he fears he'll be Mansplaing to her to. vague that it's dangerous outside instead of saying 'hey there's monsters and someone was just killed by possible one of them stay in the barrier'
Stella wants to talk to Sky because they have History. I did hear there was a love triangle between these three. I am bored and everyone at this party is a nosey bitch who is watching their tense conversation. Also Something? Happens when Stella gets upset
[mystical warbling]
Random magic effects in the (very pretty) forest
Bloom is trying to practice her magic on her own, and to do that she's gotta look at sad teen pics. And look, her burnt bedroom from her first power usage
The fire magic is pretty good. I think fire is like. the opposite of water when it comes to cg where it almost always looks pretty good, while I swear i've seen the actual ocean look like a shitty render
Magic out of control, bloom can't control her emotions, Aisha can stop her with water magic which makes some nice steam
Bloom is angry at aisha for saving her. So far 3 of the 5 girls are abrasive at best remember when people made characters likeable?
Swear count: Shit 1 (but it doubles as the literal meaning because of flooded toilets)
Swear count: Bitch 1 Ass 1
Taking away your teen's door is. Really shitty. Not almost burn down your house worthy but damn cheerleader mom
I do not understand sleep shirts with buttons. That seems painful if you lie the wrong way?
Her mom was seriously burnt by first magic usage that's a backstory
Shit count +1
Main character aspect time: dormant fairy blood line? awfully strong magic for that. baby who died day after it was born and now she's here? ...I was going to say changeling thanks aisha
A Barbaric practice loving hints at long term world lore
Hell is a bad word for kids!!
Cutting to headmistress and her secret passage after finding out bloom is secret pureblood? this really is a harry potter thing
edgelord offers giggly some booze, and says pussies twice because he's Edgey and does peer pressure
Tera calls him out and knows he's a sad nerd in disguise not a 'badass' and he says she's 'three people in disguise' because fatphobia
shit +1
arehole +1
tera. chokes out edgelord with a vine because she's had enough of this shit. good for her
edgelord is Riv, and he lived
OBLIGATORY GOOGLE SEARCH FOR THE TERM CHANGELING REMEMBER BELLA'S VAMPIRE GOOGLE GOD I LOVE TEEN FANTASY AND THEIR INSTANCE ON GOOGLING COMMON FANTASY TERMS
OH hey the lamp bloom brought with her is the one she was fixing at home that's a nice touch
Stella bonds with Bloom about homesickness, and the takes a selfie
Musa is a mind fairy. So she. Is a telepath with purple eye magic? Oh there's types of 'connections' Memory, thought (others but i am cut off from the lore)
Stella did Something to someone who Talked To Her Man last year and now lent Bloom her teleportation ring to send her some because miss mentor really cares more about her shitty man then helping the girls she's in charge of
First World- earth
Old Cemetery? Very Sexy. and bloom sweetie don't leave a mystical gateway open, and how will you explain to your parents how you're back so fast
Wait she's only 16? SO this really is some european college where that's a funny way of saying High School
Fire guilt, bad feelings about life shattering revelations, better connection with mother. I gotta say I have low expectations of this show carrying the family connection through the rest of this. That conversation felt more like a Hey We Made These Movements Onto Other Stuff Now
Lighting choices are interesting, with green, orange and purple for creepy warehouse. THE Creepy Warehouse where she would sleep without her parent's knowledge wow right that
GIRL DROPS THE DAMN RING AT THE FIRST SIGN OF burned one looked more alien than werewolf-y here
Decent Horror movie looks, and dude stole her ring. Rude. Saved by the headmistress, and tera/aisha/musa are here to great her
Stella can't be here though because she has to greet a half naked freshly showered sky because life is suffering and producers insist people like to see teens half naked (who. Who?)
shit +1 and she dumped him. pity part of one and using it to try to get your bone on.
HEY A SONG I KNOW. IT'S WHATSITCALLED FROM THE BAYONETTA COMMERCIALS WAY BACK WHEN. in for the kill la roux. I do wish netflix would either commit to telling you what song was playing or didn't tell you at all
Riv offers Beatrix a hit from his joint because what Is a Bad Kid hasn't changed in like 70 years
Blowing pot smoke into someone's mouth isn't as sexy as ya'll seem to think it is
Musa has cute sleep socks with little pom poms, and I love Tera's floral jammies
Tera offers a bluetooth speaker so they can listen to music together
Musa also calls out Tera's fake happiness this is the good shit character interaction i live for
Musa Empath Mind Fairy
'somber indie music'
If you kill a burned one in the human world Something? Extra bad happens?
So the headmistress knows Bloom's a changeling, and ohhh that's the last time a burned one was spotted. Is Rosalind the famed Monster Slayer the birth mother of Bloom?
Tera text flirts with Giggly who IS NAMED DANE and has a thing for. Sky? Riv? I told you these boys all look the same to me so if it's a half naked pic on fairy insta i'm out of context clues. Crymeariv is the insta name that answers that. Is this the slow burn enemies to lover mlm i can't finish this sentence i don't care riv is a dick
Stella and Sky are in a bed and she doesn't seem to have a top on so Implied sexy times?
MYSTERIOUS HOODED AND ROBED FIGURE CROSSES THROUGH THE BARRIAR AND SHOOTS THE BURNED ONE WITH LIGHTNING MAGIC OH IT'S beatrix
alt-J – Adeline as an ending song
#fate the winx saga#text#commentary#hey tumblr thanks for deleting all my text because I resized this window#we're off to a great start#fate episode 1
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Roman Gets Help 1/5: Bad Nights
Part One: Virgil
Part Summary: Roman is always trying to make his anxiety more manageable with a bunch of different tactics. But a disorder is a disorder, and some days are worse than others. But at least his best friend Virgil is around to help.
Part of the Service Dog AU!
Pairings: Platonic Prinxiety
Warnings: Past panic attacks, medication, anxiety, Remus making poop jokes because he’s Remus, swearing and food mentions
Word Count: 2,751
Taglist: @hold-our-destiny @pricklyfish777 @romansleftshoulderpad
Notes: Cornybird on Ao3 deserves Many Squishmallows for editing so much of my stuff, including this. So send visual squishmallow vibes to her, she deserves it
Virgil really should have known something was weird when Roman didn’t text back.
The two had made plans during lunch to meet up at Roman’s house so he could help with Virgil’s Spanish homework. Roman was infinitely better with language stuff than Virgil could ever dream to be, and even when the work was done, it was always nice to hang out in his room and get away from his wild parents every once in a while. But since Roman left school early and Virgil had to stay after for band practice, he hadn’t heard or seen Roman in a while.
That in itself wasn’t weird, though. What was weird was that when Virgil texted him that he was on his way, Roman didn’t respond. Not even with an emoji reaction or a simple ‘okay’. But even then, what was even weirder was that Virgil was right outside his door, texting Roman to open it for him, and he still wasn’t responding.
Virgil checked the last three messages he sent to Roman’s phone. All of them were marked as delivered but not read, which was also very concerning. What could Roman be doing that he hadn’t checked his phone in thirty minutes? Virgil got anxious when he didn’t read messages immediately, let alone waiting half an hour.
Virgil sent him one last text before putting his phone away. You there? I’m outside.
No response. Virgil knocked on the door and shoved his hands in his pockets, waiting and shifting on his feet for someone to open the door. After a couple minutes, he started to think Roman had just forgotten.
However, a slight spark of hope rose up in him at the sound of the front door opening. But when Virgil looked up from his shoes to the person at the door, he felt his shoulders sag.
It wasn’t Roman who had opened the door. There was no shy and apologetic smile with Princess right under his feet. Instead, it was his bastard brother in ripped jeans and a green tank top, blowing bubblegum like a bully in a 90s Nickelodeon show.
“Well if it isn’t my favorite emo! What brings you here, Raven Way?” Remus asked, leaning on the door frame with a cocky smile.
Virgil rolled his eyes. “You’ve already used that one.”
“It’s my favorite nickname for you. It’s the perfect brand of insulting. It has spice to it.”
“I’m glad you’re entertained then. Is Roman out somewhere?”
Remus cocked an eyebrow. “No, he’s been up in his room. Last I checked he was as passed out as a corpse.”
“Okay...can I come in then?”
Remus smiled and opened the door for Virgil, taking a bow as he stepped inside. Virgil rolled his eyes again. This guy is so fucking weird. “You know where his room and the shitter is. Just follow the trail of dog hair to his royal highness.”
“You terrify me, Remus.”
“Good! That’s the aesthetic I’m going for. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with a bigass thing of chili dip in the fridge that may or may not be expired. We’ll see!” Virgil’s eyes narrowed as Remus skipped back to the kitchen and right to the fridge, but he really didn’t want to be around for that mess. Instead, Virgil went upstairs and turned left to Roman’s room, the colorful Disney decorations covering his door. Virgil knocked twice, but when met with no answer, he came inside anyway.
The first thing Virgil noticed was the lights. The windows and blinds were shut tight so no sunlight could get through while Roman’s fairy lights around his room were turned on. The soft twinkling gave the room a feeling of calmness, but the sight on the bed was more concerning than tranquil. Princess was sat down on top of the bed comforter with two arms wrapped around her, Roman blending in with the sheets he was under as he shoved his face in his dog’s fur. At least she didn’t seem to mind.
Roman looked up at the sound of the door opening. Virgil felt his heart sink when he saw the tear streaks down his face and his messed up hair, but Roman tried his best to respond to Virgil anyway. “Hey…”
Virgil took off his shoes and threw his backpack onto the floor next to the door. “Hey, dude. You look like shit.”
Roman made a strange huff sound, probably meant to be a laugh. “Thanks.”
He buried his face back into Princess’ fur, and Virgil felt that pang of worry grow stronger. He moved to the other side of the bed, sitting alongside Roman and his pile of blankets and pillows. “You okay?”
Roman shrugged. “I’m doing better.”
“What happened?”
“Panic attack.”
Virgil sucked the air through his teeth as a way to say yikes. “Seems like it was a pretty bad one.”
Princess rolled over onto Roman’s chest, and Roman cuddled even closer than what Virgil thought was possible. He looked so small when he did that. “Worse than usual.”
“Do you know what caused it?”
“No. Sometimes it just happens.” Roman kissed the top of Princess’ head. “Anxiety just...does that.”
“Yeah, I get it. Trust me, out of everyone you know, I’d probably be the one to understand it the most.”
“...Yeah.”
An awkward silence fell between the two of them. Virgil didn’t actually know what to do when Roman was like this. He’s stopped him from having panic attacks in the past, but he’d never seen him look this bad. Roman was curled in on himself under the covers, gripping onto Princess for dear life in an attempt to soothe himself. His pile of stuffed animals usually spread around the bed were now in a giant pile around his body, and his weighted blanket poked out from under the comforter too. It looked like he was trying his hardest to get comfortable, and Virgil didn’t know what else he could do. A distraction? A nap?
Well, only one way to find out.
Virgil took a deep breath in. “...Is there any way I can help?”
Roman shrugged again. “Not that I know.”
“Did you take a nap? That usually helps me the most.”
“I just woke up. My meds knocked me out.”
“Your meds?”
Roman took a pill bottle from his nightstand and showed it to Virgil. He read the confusing label that all medicine bottles have, but the name of the pills was long and unfamiliar in Virgil’s mind. Roman placed them back once Virgil got a good look and curled in on himself more. “Panic attack meds. They help you calm down really quick when you’re having an attack. They always put me to sleep after. Remus likes to call them my tranquilizer dart.”
Virgil snorted. “I mean...accurate name. I’ve just never seen you with those before.”
“I only take them on bad days. My therapist warned me about how I shouldn’t take them after every panic attack, because then I’ll never learn how to deal with them on my own, and I might get addicted. Which I’d rather not.”
“Yeah, I know about the addiction thing. I used to be on anti-anxiety until last year.”
Roman tilted his head up to look at Virgil for the first time. “Really?”
“Yup. I got eased off them after a while, though. Now I just take an antidepressant, which honestly isn’t much. I think everyone in our friend group is on some kind of meds.”
“...Patton?” Roman asked.
“Patton’s one depressed mother fucker. I say that out of love, but yes, he’s also on antidepressants.”
“And Logan?”
“...Dude. Epilepsy.”
Roman let out a silent oh. “...I forgot you take meds for that.”
“Our brains are fucked up and we accept this.”
Roman flashed a small smile but didn’t respond. After that, the two had fell silent as Virgil awkwardly patted a beat on his leg to put his nervous fidgeting to use.
What do you do for someone getting out of a panic attack? It was obvious Roman wasn’t in a talking mood, but it was killing him inside to just...sit there while he looked so helpless. But he’d never had to deal with this with a friend before. The worst he’d dealt with were Patton’s bad depression days, and those had nothing on how horrible Roman looked right now. And if he already took a nap...what else were you supposed to do after a panic attack?
Virgil thought back to his own experiences. Of course, Virgil’s anxiety was nothing compared to Roman’s, but it was better than nothing. And comfort worked no matter how bad you felt, even if it was only a little.
He thought back to his own parents. How his mom would hold him and let him cry into his shoulder if he needed to, but that was too awkward for him to do with Roman. His dad would let him curl up and watch him play games on the console, which could maybe work…
...Then Virgil remembered another thing his mom did once after one of his worst panic attacks. It might be a bit embarrassing because of intimacy, but it would help Roman feel better. And that’s all that matters.
“I’m gonna go get some stuff, okay?” Virgil said, “You stay right here.”
Roman hummed. “Wasn’t planning on going anywhere, but okay.”
With that, Virgil hopped out of Roman’s bed and left the bedroom.
First, he needed a water bottle. Roman probably had some water when he took his meds, but it likely wasn’t enough to stop a headache after all the crying. Virgil went downstairs to the kitchen and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. While he was there, he looked through the rest of the fridge and noticed that there was no container of chili dip in there anymore. Gross.
Expired chili dip aside, he would need a face rag as well. Virgil went through a hallway on the first floor to the older bathroom downstairs, looking through the drawers for a decent cloth. A small one was hidden in the back of the drawer with some bottles of face wash and lotion, so Virgil grabbed that and took a mental note to put it back later. He stood in front of the faucet and stared at it for a while.
Was cold or hot water better for getting tears off someone’s face? Warm water seemed like it’d be more comfortable, but cold water could also be more refreshing. He thought about the possibilities for a while and settled on warm based on his own preferences, turning the hot and cold handles to where the water was only slightly warm, wetting a side of the cloth then turning the faucet off.
Before he left the bathroom, Virgil grabbed a couple squares of toilet paper and then headed out the door. He was back in Roman’s room not even five minutes later, setting his stuff on the nightstand for a second as he grabbed his DS from his bag and turned it on. Roman glanced up from the bed with a confused look, but didn’t say anything. Virgil came back next to the bed and motioned for Roman to move to the middle. Reluctantly, and with some shifting of Princess still at his side, Roman did so.
Virgil sat in Roman’s old spot and grabbed the wad of toilet paper. “Here, sit up and blow your nose. The last thing you need right now is more breathing problems.”
Roman grunted as she shimmied out from under his weighted blanket to sit up against the headboard of his bed. He took the toilet paper from Virgil and blew. “...Thanks.”
“No problem. Now just stick with me for this next part, because I’m not good with touchy-touchy shit, so this’ll be a little awkward.”
Roman gave Virgil a confused look, but he didn’t say anything. He grabbed the damp cloth and silently tilted Roman’s head to face him. Virgil tentatively lifted the cloth to his face and wiped the tears from under his eyes, the gesture mixed with the warm water making Roman hum in content. Virgil didn’t acknowledge what was happening, he just wiped off his friend’s face, flipping to the dry part of the cloth to dry him off after.
“There. That should help you feel less gross, anyway.”
“Thanks...it helped.”
“Yeah, don’t mention it.” Virgil set the cloth to the side and handed Roman the water bottle. “And drink this, it’ll help with that nasty headache you probably have.”
Roman twisted the cap open and chugged the bottle, finishing half of it in record speed before putting it down again. Virgil could tell by how fast he chugged it that his head was probably throbbing.
“Feeling a little better now?” Roman nodded. “Wanna watch me play Harvest Moon until you probably pass out again?”
He nodded again, Virgil scooting closer to him so Roman could place his head on his shoulder as he watched. His hand combed through Princess’ fur as Princess trapped the other under her paw to lick. Most people would think it was gross, but considering licking was one of her grounding techniques, he was desensitized to it by now. “Which one do you have?”
“A New Beginning. I’ll show you all my cows because they’re bomb as fuck. My first cow is named Oven and I have a baby one named Chaos.”
Roman laughed as Virgil started up the game. “Awesome. You play it often?”
“Eh, sometimes. It’s not my favorite game, but I carry it with me because it’s good for calming anxiety down. All I gotta do is feed my animals and mine and shit. Nothing else matters, you know?”
Roman nodded as best he could from Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil loaded up his save file and started to show Roman around his farm, mostly skipping the crops and going straight to the pets and farm animals with the most ridiculous names Virgil could get away with using only six letters. Virgil chatted away about his game and read all the speech bubbles out loud, showing off his wife who he swears he married platonically since his character was obviously gay and talking about his rivalry with the hair stylist. Roman wasn’t responding much, just a few hums and little laughs here and there, but Virgil didn’t mind. So long as his friend was feeling better, that was all that mattered.
A while later, Virgil was baking desserts for a contest being held in town when he spoke up again. “I’m shit at cooking good stuff in this game, but I can make some neat pancakes, apparently. I’m gonna make this contest my bitch.”
There was no response. That wasn’t very strange in itself, but usually when Virgil sweared, Roman at least made a small huff of a laugh from his shoulder. But this time, he was completely quiet. Virgil looked over at his shoulder when he almost awwww’ed out loud.
Roman had fallen back asleep, his mouth open slightly with his arms cuddling Princess extra close as she seemed to relax alongside him. He was adorable, and in a moment of softness that Virgil would deny to the end of his days, he helped Roman to lay back in bed and brushed the hair out of his face. Roman still clung slightly to him even as he slept, so Virgil accepted his fate and moved to curl up alongside him, continuing his game with a smile on his face.
“Your sleep schedule is gonna be absolutely fucked, dude.” Virgil said. There was no response, obviously, and Virgil didn’t talk to his sleeping friend after that. He just took a mental note to tell his parents he was staying the night before it got too late and kept caring for his farm.
Maybe later he’d wake Roman up and get him some dinner, letting him recharge and take a shower before they actually had to go to bed. He’d be too awake to actually sleep at first, but the company of his friend and the comfort of his dog would keep him calm through that, even when Roman hated being awake past eleven. Patton may even find out and tease Virgil about having a heart after all, which Virgil would deny until the end of his days. But his edgy reputation wasn’t what mattered right now.
Instead, Virgil smiled and cuddled closer as Roman slept peacefully.
#sanders sides#thomas sanders#service dog au#ts roman#ts virgil#prinxiety#platonic prinxiety#food mention#panic attack mention#ts remus#remus sanders#medication mention
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Space Ghost Coast to Coast #87: “Dreams” | January 11, 2004 - 11:30 PM | S08E06
There is no doubt in my mind that Space Ghost is one of the most underappreciated comedy series of all time. For a show that is so screamingly hilarious, it sure is ignored. Hell, the creators of Space Ghost don’t even appreciate the goddamn thing. It makes it all the more special for those of us who love it. This episode of television, which I regard as a comedy masterpiece, sits on IMDB with 35 votes total. Not only is this an exceptional episode of Space Ghost, it also happens to *sorta* be the series finale, and it’s also the single-most profane episode of Space Ghost in existence. It deserves your respect, goddamn it.
In this one, Space Ghost cobbles together a charity organization for the sole purpose of one-upping Zorak and Moltar. He demands an animal be booked as his guest in order to elect it as the org’s cute mascot. Space Ghost winds up with Triumph, the Insult Comic Dog.
For those of you who require context: Triumph is an intentionally cheesy dog puppet with a vaguely ethnic accent who makes old-school but also very profane roast-style jokes at his various targets. He was an intentionally one-note character featured on Late Night with Conan O’Brien. Triumph developed enough of a cult following that he wound up recurring pretty regularly. Most notably on Conan he got kicked out of the Westminster Dog Show for humping some of the dogs and generally being a nuisance. My favorite remote he did was where he made fun of nerds waiting in line to see Star Wars Episode II.
In 2003 Triumph released an album which came with a DVD which featured a cameo from Conan O’Brien saying the c-word (cunt) and the recently disgraced Horatio Sanz deep-throating a dildo. That, presumably, is why Triumph is on this show: to promote this album. He keeps trying to steer the conversation to “get to the plug”, and referring to his “beautiful singing voice” There’s a small number of Space Ghost guests who show up genuinely believing that they’ll be allowed to plug their project and that the episode will air in a timely manner. Like Adam West or Fred Willard, this is in fact one of those.
What makes this episode so goddamn funny is that there’s an undercurrent of the Space Ghost staff aggressively trying to undercut Triumph’s shtick. Triumph is almost always the most outrageous character in any given room, and people almost always have a hard time contending with the barrage of fast-paced/profane insults that Triumph supplies. The editing may have had a hand in this, but here we see Triumph doing roughly what he does, but Space Ghost is too boneheaded to really let it effect him. Space Ghost, true to form, misunderstands almost everything Triumph says, taking it at face value. When it finally dawns on him that Triumph is breaking taboos he is briefly shocked. But when Zorak lies and tells him that “money came in” from Triumph’s transgressions he is suddenly motivated to childishly repeat Triumph’s vulgarity.
When Moltar tries to put his foot down he casually breaks an actual network taboo: he says “they will shut us down for that shit. I mean stuff.” completely unbleeped. Not sure what the status of “shit” is on adult swim these days, but in 2004 I don’t think Adult Swim was technically considered it’s own network yet (I’m hazy on the details here, but there was a turning point where Adult Swim ceased to be programming that simply aired on Cartoon Network and was actually registered legally as a network unto itself that shared space with Cartoon Network). So, allowing shit to play on what was still legally considered a children’s network was a pretty big deal. I don’t even think Turner allowed swears that harsh to appear on Adult Swim’s website.
The show escalates beautifully and ends with a song about “retardos”, while Space Ghost inexplicably holds up a Dexter’s Laboratory branded foam finger, a detail I’ve never noticed until this viewing. It is breathtakingly dumb. I love this episode so much.
There are a lot of great lines in this that I’m intentionally leaving out. The length of this write-up might lead you to believe I’ve revealed the entire episode. I haven’t! There’s so many great jokes in this. This begins what I like to think of as the finale trilogy. There are two more quasi-episodes of Space Ghost coming up (not counting the GameTap episodes because they suck or The Room interstitials because that’s so far out from the series true end that it’s practically a reunion special). One is an abandoned episode they aired in an unfinished state. Then comes the tenth anniversary bumpers the Sunday after Space Ghost’s big birthday. But I’ll talk more about that when the time comes. Okay? Alright? Damn!
I forgot to say this earlier so I’m just tacking it on here: my wife and I literally quoted this episode in our wedding vows. It was the “You will lick my shiny boots, for you are now my dog on a leash.” line. This isn’t a joke.
MAIL BAG
Here’s more FUCKING FUCKS writing me dumb shit and wasting my valuable time. Damn. Dang it!
I'm in a minority here but while I loved Home Movies I think it diminished by the time Season 4 rolled around that I think it's straight up overall bad. So much so that I feel you can tack on the camera drop ending to any of the other season finales and have a better show. I don't know why exactly. Is it because H. Jon Benjamin has a writing credit for this one and McGurk is wackier than ever? Did Brendon Small just run out of childhood experiences to mine from? I dislike it.
Huh I wouldn’t go that far OBVIOUSLY. So far I’ve liked a hundo percento of Season 4 even though it’s just two episodes. haha “Aw, who’m I tryinta fool? it’s just two episodes.”
I like the Sonic Guys. Their keen sense to pinpoint the exact craveability of every new Sonic item as well as their overall familiarity and comradery leave the viewer ready for fun and ready for fun: the Sonic way. And if you don't like that, buddy, then you are an Adbusters Stooge.
More like “ready for run” because I would use my feet to get away from their tires, because they’re tired!!!
Do you think the Sonic Guy ever dry over to Popeyes when the cameras aren't rolling. What do you think they would get. If I were them I would get the chicken: it's tender, it's juicy, it has cajun seasonings.
I think they would go there and say stupid cutesy shit like “extra chicken please :D :p” and a teenager would call them n*88*s and they’d commit suicide that night. But what a way to go
Don't give up on ephemera week!, The blog was super fun last week. And it's just a nice way to end the blog after a year of spankworthy stuff. It will be less special if you just pepper them in now and then. How many venmo bucks would I have to pay for you to keep it that way?
What a swanky message to get. I do think Ephemera week will be pretty hard from here on out because 2004 is about where I ended my initial research for this blog and the prospect of doing more of that to give a fairly complete overview of each year would just be too much. I’d much rather just slide it in. You’ll love seeing me slide.
What are your big wishes for 2004?
what the fuck am I supposed to do here? Wish for something to happen in a year that already happened? Do I get to transport myself back there and do this wish all the way back then? Or do I simply feel the butterfly effect of it having had happen in 2004. What the fuck kinda fucked up shit is this anyway.
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Walk Me Home - Ch 3
Summary: Twenty-four years ago, Kimberly Harper met a boy who changed the course of her entire life before up and leaving one night. She spent years moving past the memories, building a stable, satisfying career as professor of folklore and mythology at the local university. Then the accidents start, and she’s forced to seek help among her hunter contacts. All it takes is a knock on her office door to send Kimber’s carefully built emotional walls crumbling to the ground.
Featuring: Teen Winchesters, high school romance, reunions, misunderstandings, high intensity emotional turmoil, Dean’s love of pie, Dean being adorable, Sam being adorable and maybe a bit nosy eventually, much group adorkable-ness, show-style investigation, mention of our favorite werewolf, gratuitous and obvious love of fall, DID I MENTION ROMANCE, fluff, smut, tension.
Warnings: Show level violence, show level parental neglect (let’s not John bash, I’m just saying), show-style witchcraft, show-level mental manipulation, stalking, bit of angst, sexual content (higher than show level),swearing, general yearning
Word Count: 3422
Author’s Note: Mega thanks to @mskathywriteswords , @fangirlxwritesx67, and @cracksinthewalls for editing, revision, flailing, and generally knocking sense into me when I’m being stubborn. You all made this story way better than it started it, and I love you. Thanks to everyone who read/reblogged/liked the first chapter. I hope you enjoy the story as much as I do.
@thoughtslikeaminefield , babe, I love you, and I love this story so much.
Keep in Mind: There are a lot of flashbacks. I tried to write current events in present tense and flashbacks in past tense. Here’s hoping I got everything right!
Please read/heed the warnings. 18+ ONLY.
In Case You Missed It:
Ch 1 | Ch 2
ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist
Chapter 3
“Breathe, sweetheart, take a deep breath and hold it. Watch me, follow my breathing.” Dean’s hands, warm and solid against her clammy skin, hold her face so she has no choice but to look right at him.
His eyes pierce the haze of fear that locks her lungs, and she pulls in her first shaking breath since she spotted the doll. She must have screamed, because one moment she was alone with the damned thing, and the next he was by her side, pulling her out of the room.
“Come with me, we’re getting out of here. Right now.” In a habit that miraculously stayed with her since she first knew him, Kimber stumbles after Dean, her fingers clutching his with a level of desperation that would leave her shamed if she had the thought capacity to care right now.
They’re out the front door, in his car, and speeding away before she even realizes he’s on the phone.
“Yeah, Sam, I saw the doll on her bed. Front door was definitely locked when we got there, but I didn’t get a chance to check the windows or back door. She’s talked to the cops before this, they didn’t do shit then, but maybe now that the bastard actually went in her house. I’m taking her back to the motel.”
He’s silent for a long moment, listening intently, his lips pressed thin and tense. Her face is wet, and she realizes she’s crying. She takes a moment to wipe away the tears streaming from her eyes, discreetly clearing her throat. She has a strange, disconnected moment of panic when she realizes she left her purse in the house and the door unlocked, but she shoves the words back down her throat so fast she nearly chokes.
That horrible...thing...on her bed, and she’s worried about her purse?!
Priorities, Kimber, she scolds herself. Dean is talking when she comes back to the moment, and she catches him mid-sentence.
“-agree with Kimber, I think it’s probably a witch. Gonna check for hex bags, ask her about anybody that might have a motive. We’ll go over her house when you get here, but I’m gonna try to keep her out of sight in the meantime. Don’t have a tail, but I’ll keep an eye on the way to the motel. See ya in the morning.”
He hangs up, eyes flicking over to Kimber then back to the road.
“How you holdin’ up?” The genuine concern in his voice breaks through the worst of her panic, giving her something other than her growing dread to focus on.
“I...I’ve been better. I mean, I know that nothing actually happened, but...Dean, I-”
“Oh, no, I totally get it,” he says, his eyebrows rising high on his forehead. “Fucking dolls, I hate ‘em. That creepy shit absolutely ain’t right. Anyway, we had no idea if someone was still at your place. Better to high-tail it, regroup, and plan than get stuck in a shootout with somethin’ that might not even go down with a bullet or five in it. You heard me talkin’ to Sam?”
She nods, doing her best to hide her sniffling. Without a word, he opens the glove box, pulls out a napkin, and hands it to her. She takes it gratefully, failing in her attempt to discreetly blow her nose while boxed into a moving vehicle.
“Thanks. The thing is, though, as far as I know, nobody has a motive to want to hurt me.”
This time he only lifts one eyebrow. “You, a college professor in a highly specialized academic area that’s typically full of eccentrics at best and nutbags at worst, have no students with chips on their shoulders? No jealous colleagues? Never forgot to tip the barista or leave a Christmas bonus for the janitors? Really?”
Her face heats up. She’s thinking like a scared kid, and she should know better. She may not be a hunter, but she knows the lore, knows the signs, and she really should know better.
“Okay, you’re right, you’re right. I’m not thinking clearly. Just...gimme a sec to get my head on straight.”
She sucks in a sharp, deep breath through her nose, focusing on a droplet of water that’s sliding down her window. She presses air slowly from her lungs, watching the drop gain speed as it joins with more water dotting the outside of the glass, repeating the process until the raindrop slips off the window and her thoughts are focused again.
“I haven’t actually had to fail anyone in my classes lately, but I suppose someone could have held a grudge from previous semesters or just not been satisfied with a lower passing grade. As far as I know, no one in the department is jealous of my position. I’m not really anything special, literally just a glorified storyteller. I’m not on any boards or committees, I haven’t received any awards in a few semesters. No particular nutbags lately, but…”
She frowns as he pulls the car into a motel parking lot. Something is tugging at the back of her mind, an almost non-incident from a few Thursdays ago. She’d dismissed the conversation as random but harmless, but even the smallest details could be life or death. She’s been shown this over and over in her dealings with hunters. It’s about time she learned from other people’s mistakes.
“There was something, a few weeks ago, but I can’t quite remember,” she says, frustrated at how inadequate her memory is proving at the moment. The vestiges of panic still cling to the edges of her mind, leaving her thoughts scrambled and disjointed.
“Think on it. Let’s get checked in, get somethin’ to eat, and you can tell me then,” Dean offers.
She smiles her appreciation at the reprieve and climbs out of the car to follow Dean into the motel office. She uses the time Dean spends, first talking and then arguing with the clerk, to jog her memory, trying to recall everything she can about her encounter at the end of a self-defense class the previous month.
It had seemed so harmless at the time, and nothing odd happened afterwards. At least, not that night. But as she stands next to Dean, straining her memory, she realizes Helen’s accident was just two days later. Her unseen watcher trailed her for the first time a week after Helen’s fall. Then Professor Lawrence a few days after that, and just last week Allen and the stapler.
She feels the heat of shame flooding her face. She’s a researcher by profession. How did she never put the pattern together? People have been hurt, nearly died, because she was too stupid to connect some dots?
“I connect dots for a goddamn living,” she mutters to herself, earning her an odd glance from Dean. He turns back to the clerk, who shrugs.
“Take it or leave, sir.”
“Fine,” Dean growls, shoving a credit card at the man. Five minutes later, Dean unlocks the door to a room with two queen-size beds whose decor calls strongly back to a decade long past and best forgotten.
“I think they decorated this place before we were born,” she murmurs, earning her a tired smile from Dean. “At least it’s clean?”
He nods, tossing his bag on the bed nearest the window. “Sorry we have to share, they’re full up. Some sort of convention in town?”
She hesitates, her stomach fluttering uneasily at the thought of a wall between her and Dean. “I don’t mind. I think...maybe it’s safer this way, in one room. I would offer to get dinner, since you paid for the room, but…” She trails off, empty hands spread at her sides.
“Not a problem,” he says, dropping down on the bed and reaching for the phone. “Know anywhere good that delivers?”
Forty minutes and two cheeseburger combos later, Dean lifts her reprieve and presses her for information again. The food helped ground Kimber’s jittery brain, and she’s thinking clearly for the first time since she spotted the doll.
“A few weeks ago, after self-defense class concluded, a guy came up to me. I’d never noticed him before, I thought he was new, but he said he’d seen me a few times and wanted to know if i would go get coffee with him. I wouldn’t have said yes, regardless, because...I mean, picking up dates at a self-defense class? Feels kinda predatory.”
Dean nods, lips pursed as he listens. He’s stretched out on his bed while she’s opted to sit in one of the two chairs by the table a few feet away. Kimber scrubs her face with her hands before running them back through her hair.
“I just...I got this weird vibe off him, though, Dean. He may have found me attractive, I don’t know, but I seriously doubt it. He didn’t really want to ask me out. I have no clue why he asked; I could tell he wasn’t into me. He wouldn’t meet my eyes, his face was kind of stoney the whole time? Almost like someone put him up to it even though he really didn’t want to?”
Dean frowns, just as perplexed as she is.
She sighs, resting her chin in her palms and elbows on her knees. “I know. He was acting just a little too off. On top of that, I didn’t know him at all, so I turned him down. I wasn’t rude, at least I don’t think I was. He just accepted it, though; he didn’t push or even look upset. He didn’t really look anything at all. He just left. I didn’t see him in class again after that, and, honestly, I’m certain I had never seen him before.”
Dean rubbed the stubble on his chin thoughtfully, eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t...I mean, yeah, maybe. A strong maybe,” he conceded. “But we need more information. Even if that guy is our perp, we need to find out more about what’s actually going on. Sam can help me look over your place tomorrow; you and I can search your office. We should check out the other accident scenes. Did anyone else in your class see the guy or talk to him?”
“Maybe the teacher?” Kimber offers, stifling a yawn. She’s weary to the bone and suspects she may still be feeling the after-effects of shock. She stands, intending to hit the shower in the bathroom, when she remembers just how quickly they had to leave her house.
“Um...Dean, I didn’t get to...we left my place so quickly. Do you have anything to wear that I could...borrow?” She doesn’t mean to sound so hesitant and vulnerable, but her emotional filter is fading with her energy, and she doesn’t have it in her to put up a tough front.
His eyes widen, and he jumps up from the bed to rifle through his sports bag. He reaches out, holding what looks like a white t-shirt and pajama pants. She takes a step towards him to accept them just as he moves over to meet her, and they both stop just shy of a full-body collision.
His fingers brush her skin as she accepts the clothes, and she’s annoyed at how her hands tremble from the brief touch. Her eyes flick up to find him watching her, his color high and lips parted. His hands close more solidly around hers, fingers rough and welcome against her wrists. Her pulse quickens, and that cold spot near her heart ratchets up a couple more degrees.
His pupils dilate in response, black circles swallowing the mossy irises. Dean’s tongue flashes over his lower lip as he swallows convulsively, and her eyes track the movement. She wonders for the span of a single breath if he still tastes the way she remembers. It would be so easy to find out; just step in, drop the clothes.
All she has to do, really, is reach out.
…
Her fingers paused halfway between them, hesitating. He glanced up from his plate of pie, eyeing her curiously. Feeling suddenly, deliciously brave, she brushed her thumb over his lower lip, swiping a bit of whipped cream he’d unknowingly smeared there. She sucked her thumb for just a moment, self-consciously looking away as her cheeks blazed red.
She’d never been so forward before, brazen even, and while she was proud of her courage, she was still shocked she’d had such nerve. She risked a peek at him across the table just in time to see him flick his own tongue over the exact spot her thumb had just been. He caught his lower lip under his teeth, grinning at her, somehow looking just as flushed and off-balance as she felt.
“You, uh...taste good,” he murmured, eyes shining. She couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up at his sweet, simple sincerity.
“You do, too.”
They had finished tutoring early, and it was only their second week. Dean was keeping up just fine in class, so she was more than happy to accept his invitation for a snack at the nearby diner. The day was pretty warm for mid-September, and they were technically still supposed to be at the library, so she asked if he’d like to maybe take a walk and talk some more.
“You’re just using me for my stories,” he said with a mock pout as they strolled down the sidewalk. “Is that all I am to you? A source of entertainment?”
“Dean, you’re the best show on. I wouldn’t even skip the reruns.” She felt so light around him, so comfortable and giddy all at once, like he was sucking the oxygen from her atmosphere while giving it right back to her all at once.
Just when she felt like her chest might burst holding all this inside, she reached out and linked her fingers through his. She felt a slight falter in his stride (or maybe she imagined it), and they walked on. She asked him about his family. He told her less about his Dad, more about his little brother, and nothing about his mom, but mostly he asked questions.
What did she like to read? Where was the best pie in town, because that place was not it. Where did she have her favorite birthday party growing up? What did she want to do when she graduated? Favorite family vacation? Favorite holiday? Was it as awesome being an only child as it seemed, or were there actually drawbacks he didn’t know about? What did she really think of his jacket, be honest?
Eventually, they found themselves back at her house, not quite time for her to be home yet. She was reluctant to say good-bye, and if his grip on her hand was any indication, so was he.
“I know!” she said suddenly. She tugged his arm, leading the way around her house and into the backyard. Neither of her parents were home from work, so she didn’t have to worry about their well-meaning interrogation as to why she was dragging the new boy around by the arm.
“Ta-da!” She spread her arms wide, grinning as she indicated the treehouse she and her dad had built together only a few years earlier. “Best craftsmanship, all the comforts of home, minus electricity, heat, air conditioning, and plumbing!”
“You mean it’ll hold us both, and there's some pillows and blankets up there?” He laughed, his grin growing as she glowed back at him.
“You get me so well!” she squealed, grabbing his hand and tugging him forward again. “Come on!”
Though the structure swayed ever so slightly, it didn’t embarrass her by creaking, and there was plenty of room for the two of them to prop up against one of the walls, stretching their legs out on the nest of cushions and blankets she kept up there during good weather.
Rather than settling down, her heart began to beat against her ribs so loudly she was certain Dean could hear it. Her shoulder brushed his, and she could feel every minute shift of his body. Her nostrils flared a little as she steeled herself and turned to meet his intent gaze.
“I would really love to kiss you right now,” he said, his voice low and velvet soft.
“Does that usually work on girls?” she asked breathlessly, her eyes glued to his impossibly lush mouth.
“Why, is it working on you?” The raw want in his voice was unmistakable, even to her inexperienced ears. No boy had ever looked at her the way Dean was right now, as if he’d never seen anyone else he’d rather kiss. He reached up, slid his fingers into her hair, thumb brushing her cheekbone.
“Yeah, it, um...it really is.”
He tasted of cherry pie and coffee. Years later, she would recognize that kiss as the moment her dependency on the caffeinated beverage began, but at the time, she wouldn’t have recognized her own mother. His lips moved gently, so tenderly it stole her breath and made some random spot in her chest clench painfully.
She turned, leaning across him, almost on her knees. Her fingers slid over the impossibly silky bristles on the back of his neck. He shivered under her touch, lips parting from hers as he sucked in a sharp pull of air.
“Kimber,” he murmured, eyes closed. She nudged the tip of his nose with her own, her eyes fluttering shut as she pressed the smallest of kisses to the corner of his lips. Dean’s breath caught, and then he pulled her up into his lap suddenly, tilting her head just so before claiming her mouth again.
She didn’t know how long they sat in the treehouse exactly like that, learning each other’s contours and tastes, trading kisses and caresses but nothing more, until she heard the front door of the house close.
Kimber jerked upright, shocked as if she’d been dashed with a bucket of ice water. She’d honestly forgotten there was a whole world that existed outside the two of them in the treehouse. The sun was much lower in the sky, almost gone in fact.
“It’s almost dark, Dean, I have to go inside.” She spoke reluctantly, the words pulled out against her will. She didn’t ever want to be responsible, even indirectly, for telling Dean he had to leave.
Dean’s chest rose and fell rapidly, one hand holding tight to her waist as the other began to reluctantly untangle from her hair. He leaned forward, brushed her lips with his one last time before wordlessly encouraging her to put herself to rights.
Kimber checked the backyard to make sure the coast was clear before leading Dean down the ladder to the ground.
“If you go that way,” she said, pointing out a thin spot in the hedge at the far side of her yard, “it’ll take you right out to Evergreen Drive. One more block over, and you’ll be on the same street as the school.” He nodded, glancing in the direction before turning back to her.
God, his eyes.
She was frozen to the spot and on fire all at once. In all her seventeen years, she’d never felt anything as intense as Dean just looking at her. How did he do that?
“I think I’m going to, uh...need a few more study sessions,” he said softly. “We might need to really get...in depth with the material.” This time his smile was a little shy, a lot less cocky than the first time she worked with him. And yet there was a mischievous glint in his eyes that let her know Dean Winchester would absolutely be worth every bit of trouble he got her into.
“I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” she said, intentionally not addressing his statement. For one thing, she didn’t think she could match his level of casual innuendo without sounding like a complete idiot. For another, she didn’t trust herself to respond without turning bright red.
She turned towards her house when Dean seized her hand, yanked her carefully back, and caught her face between both of his palms. This time the kiss was blazing, not a trace of the gentleness from the last hour, and when he finally released her, she stood dazed and shaken, staring at him completely unfocused.
“See ya,” he said. He grinned as he released her and turned, loping across her yard with an easy grace before disappearing into the hedge.
...
Chapter 4
#SPN#spn fic#spn fanfic#spn fanfiction#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#Supernatural fanfic#supernatural fic#dean winchester#Sam Winchester#original character#original female character#teen winchesters#teen dean#teen sam#autumn#fall#more gratuitous hand holding#romance#fluff#OMG THE FLUFF#actual pie#she finally hugged him and fed him pie#hopefully that happens again#i would do it#but i'm not in charge of my own stories#someone tell kimber#continue to save that hug for Sam#we'll see him soon#I STILL LOVE THIS STORY SO MUCH
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You Plus Me Equals Soulmates Part 6 (Peter Parker x Reader Soulmate!AU)
Summary: After the explosion from the last part, Y/N is trapped in the elevator. Will Peter get to her in time? Internally, Y/N still suspects Peter of keeping something from her. Will Peter finally cave and tell Y/N he’s Spider-Man? Or will this secret break them apart?
Author’s Note: I actually meant to release this yesterday, but I started editing too late at night, got distracted, and started reading another fan fiction. Oops. Part 7 should be out tomorrow, but we’ll see. Hope you enjoy this chapter and if you haven’t read the parts before this, click on the links below.
Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5
Word Count; 2,063 (sorry it’s a little shorter)
Warnings: swearing, angst :), mentions of blood.
---------------------------
‘What just exploded?’ is a question you should never have to ask yourself while 400 feet above the ground in an elevator.
I got blown back into the elevator wall from the explosion and I can feel everything moving very quickly around me.
Panicked, I look around wildly at everyone else. The purple thing has fallen out of Ned’s backpack. Everyone is still in one piece so maybe it was a different type of explosion?
Was this because of the purple glowy thing? What is it and why does Ned have it? What does Peter know about it?
I have many more questions, but the most important one is probably ‘how am I going to survive?’.
From the feeling in my stomach and the shaking of the walls around me, I can tell the elevator is falling. Very quickly.
What was the elevator precaution the lady told us about? I can’t remember so I just press myself against the wall, my lips pressed together unlike others, who are screaming.
Suddenly the elevator stops abruptly, but not as if we’ve hit the ground. My head smacks against the wall and I see bright spots for several seconds.
Everything is quiet. The elevator bobs a bit, suspended by something.
“Is everyone ok?” Mr.Harrington silently examines us for injury, shaken by the abrupt stop.
The tour guide lady stands up and brushes herself off. “I’m sure we’ll be ok. Just stay calm and help will be on the way.”
“WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE!” shouts Flash, on the verge of hyperventilating.
I grab onto the bar in the elevator and pull myself up to my feet. I exchange a look with Ned, who looks pale and fearful. I then look over to Liz, who just finished screaming from the fall.
“Shouldn’t we try to climb out or something? Through the elevator shaft up there?” I gesture up to the ceiling, where a latch is.
“Oh, uh… Yeah, she’s right. That’s part of the procedure,” the lady agrees, nodding.
“Isn’t it more dangerous out there? What if we get crushed by something? What if the elevator starts moving again? What if-” Flash’s expression is that of hysteria.
“We’re fine, Flash,” says Liz, reassuring Flash.
The tour guide gets out her keys and pulls out a special one for the latch. She reaches up and opens it easily. “I’ll get out first to help everyone,” she announces before climbing out with ease due to her height.
“Yeah… I-I’ll go out first to help,” stutters Mr.Harrington, clearly just eager to get out of the elevator.
With the help of Mr.Harrington standing on Flash’s back, he scrambles out of the elevator and to the room that’s to the right of the elevator shaft.
“Who's next?” I look around, trying to stay calm, but panic seeps into my voice anyway.
What if the elevator DOES start moving and we’re all done for? What if I die? What if I never get to see Peter again?
The last thought makes my heart ache.
“I’ll go next,” volunteers Liz, already climbing onto Flash’s back and out of the elevator with help from the tour guide lady.
Five more kids get out of the elevator. Left now is Ned, Flash, Betty, and me.
“C-can I go next, guys?” Ned looks around, unsure of whether Flash will give up his hero facade and ask to go next.
We help Ned out of the shaft just before there’s a sudden snap.
The three of us, surprised from the loud noise and from the unexpected drop, scream. The force causes me to fall on my back, knocking the air out of my lungs and making my head pound from my previous encounter with the falling elevator.
This time something else stops it. From what I can see out of the escape door and floor of the elevator, it looks like… webs?
Spider-Man?
A head peeks in from the escape opening. It is Spider-Man. I can’t see through his mask, but it’s as if I can sense how panic-stricken he is.
I get up quickly.
“Oh my god it’s Spider-Man. Spider-Man came to save me, I-I… I’m going to puke,” Flash says, hand at his chest.
“Flash you’re next,” I state.
Flash gladly uses our help to get out and almost faints when Spider-Man grabs his hand to pull him out.
Betty and I look at each other. Something metal groans and Spider-Man jumps up, webbing himself to the top of the elevator shaft. He webs the elevator again, slowly pulling us and the elevator up.
Holy fuck, he’s strong.
“You first,” Betty and I say at the same time.
“Really, Betty. I’ll make it out.” Realizing how grim that sounded, I offer a weak smile.
She nods gravely and climbs up, taking a boost from my knee.
I’m too fucking short, I register way too late, comparing my height to the distance I’ll need to jump to make it out.
I look up hopelessly at Spider-Man, but I don’t know why. The way I look at him is similar to that when I look at Peter in a desperate situation.
Now is not the time for this, Y/N. Besides, Spider-Man could be like 40 years old and you wouldn’t know.
I see Spider-Man studying the elevator and elevator shaft hastily, trying to form a plan, distressed.
________Peter’s POV_________
What am I supposed to do? How can I save Y/N? I never got to tell her… NO. She’s NOT going to die.
As I’m frozen in fear, I don’t realize that the rest of the elevator supports are about to break.
There’s a bang as the supports break off and I’m yanked downward, taken aback by the sudden movement.
Being pulled away from the top of the elevator shaft causes debris to fall, making my web aim on Y/N more difficult.
Nonetheless, the webs still reach Y/N in the elevator shaft, wrapping around her wrist and pulling her through the escape door, suspending her in the air.
She screams and I realize a piece of debris must have hit her. Her scream reaches somewhere deep inside me and fills me with pain.
Was I too late? I can’t lose her. I love her.
It’s probably too soon, but I love her and she’s my soulmate.
I pull her up to me and into my arms and she’s shaking with fear. There’s a wound and blood trailing from her forehead, down the side of her face.
But she’s ok. She’s here and she’s in my arms, safe and sound.
She doesn’t know it’s me.
Agony fills me as I realize she probably hates me for not showing up to the National Decathlon and not being here with her.
I softly land in the room to the right of the elevator shaft. Her face is buried in my shoulder.
“Oh thank god you’re okay, Y/N,” Mr.Harrington says, rushing over to us. “Thank you so much, Spider-Man.
I nod, hesitant to let her go. I don’t want to leave her. I want to tell her the truth about who I am and I want to be here to comfort her.
I take her shoulders and gently push her away, webbing out of the building.
________Y/N’s POV_________
He felt warm and familiar. Like Peter. There’s a connection between us. Like with Peter.
I watch as Spider-Man leaves through a window.
Soon firemen come and we reach the ground. Flash bursts into tears once he feels his feet on solid ground. I don’t judge him.
I scan the crowd of people. Peter is nowhere to be seen.
Where is Peter? What the hell is wrong with him? I could’ve died and now he’s not even here.
Ambulance workers hand us shock blankets and lead me away into an ambulance with the consent of Mr.Harrington.
I feel anxiety kick in when they ask me to lay down on a gurney.
Why are they doing this? I feel fine.
In all honesty, I do feel fine. But when I think about it, I just feel dazed and numb.
“She may have a concussion. She doesn’t need stitches for the wound on her head, but it still could’ve caused trauma to the head. Her wrist is broken,” reads the nurse in the ambulance, peering at a clipboard.
May have a concussion? Broken wrist?
After a few minutes of them giving me some pain killers, even though I still couldn’t feel anything because of shock, I arrive at the hospital.
They wheel me into a room and start cleaning the wound on my head for a second time, this time bandaging it afterwards. Someone carefully takes hold of my wrist, which causes pain to shoot through my hand and I flinch. They wrap it up and begin on a cast after a quick x-ray.
Finally after all the activity, they leave me alone.
I want my mom. I want someone to be here. I want to go home.
I want Peter.
After a few minutes, my wish comes true.
Peter rushes into the room and instantly to my side. “Are you okay? How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? You-”
“Where were you, Peter?”
“What?”
“Where were you?” My voice cracks this time.
Ugh. I hate crying.
“I- I was… Somewhere. I- uh...I forgot about it… I guess,” mumbles Peter. He avoids eye contact.
“Somewhere? You forgot? How could you forget? Peter, the National Decathlon was something you know I’ve been looking forward to for the past month. And you weren’t there. And then everyone almost died. You weren’t there. Peter I- you…” I stop talking, now aware of the face that tears have spilled down my cheeks.
Peter’s expression is a mask of guilt. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll tell you later-”
“Yeah, that’s what you said on the call earlier. Later is now. And if you don’t tell me now, there won’t be a later.”
Why did I just say that? All I want is for him to tell me what he’s keeping from me. Why can’t he?
Peter flinches as if I’ve just slapped him across the face. He takes my hand lightly. “I promise I will tell you.” He glances around the room at the cameras. “I just can’t right now.
“Fine,” I say simply. “I think you should leave, Peter.”
Peter’s eyes fill with tears as he stops rubbing my hand with his thumb. He stands up slowly. “Y/N I- I have to tell you something. I… I love you.”
I freeze.
He loves me?
Do I love him?
“Peter, I-”
“I understand if you don’t feel the same. I mean, before all of this you didn’t even really believe in soulmates. Who knows if it’s a load of crap? But I love you, Y/N. You deserve to know that. I swear on my life that I never meant to hurt you or lie to you, but for now I have to. I’m leaving, because if that’s truly what will make you want, then that’s what I want for you.” Peter silently leaves through the door and it shuts quietly, leaving me in silence.
I didn’t want him to leave, so why did I tell him to?
I look down at my hand and stifle a sob, bringing my hand up to cover my mouth.
I love him too.
________Peter’s POV________
I quickly walk out of the hospital and jump up to sit on the rooftop. Now I let a tear escape.
Does she not love me? We’re soulmates. Aren’t we?
I had wanted to tell her so badly. She seemed so hurt and upset that I’ve been keeping something from her, reasonably so, too. There were too many cameras. Too many people that could’ve heard. If protecting her from being used against me means keeping secrets, I’ll do what I have to.
Maybe I should try to be more like Mr.Stark. He told the world who he was and yeah there was backlash and his loved ones were put in danger, but he dealt with it, didn’t he? Mr.Stark won’t accept me and now even Y/N won’t accept me.
I put my head in my hands.
As long as Y/N is okay, I’m okay.
I would do anything to protect her.
----------------------
Yay relationship issues. Sorry. Not yay. Thanks for reading!
@disfunctionalcellmembrane @marvel4geeks @ilovesupersoldiers @sovereignparker @averyfosterthoughts
Part 7
#part 6#you plus me equals soulmates#peter parker x reader#peter parker x reader soulmate au#au#fan fiction#part 7 coming soon#angst#peter parker angst#imagine#soulmates#equals sign tattoo
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Fuck
(Tw antiblackness)
Okay so when I was 11 my mom read this book to me about the 5 Chinese personality elements. Ever sense then I was fascinated by it and wanted to create OCs of my own to respresent them.
Bc my adhd can cause weird motivation and memory, I cared only with developing characters and story lines and slowly forgot the actual sorce material.
When I first started, I decided to focus more on story and not on character disign. Because mostly I took inspiration from vocaloid songs(you can tell this was a while ago) I decided to make them all Japanese so I could narrow their look way down compared to shapeless blobs in my mind.
Years past and I decided I didn’t like this anymore. I was ready to do the complete opposite and have a very diverse cast of characters. My strategy was to chose a culture in any where in the world, at any time, that most prioritized and valued what each element had to give and generally imbodied. Especially bc I wanted each character to be the most extreme form of their elements and often invisioned each character to be a political representative for each colony of element.
I good way to put this in perspective is to imagine I was making a communism OC so I made them Chinese or USA American. Basically that would chosenthose cultures bc it is something it generally is really extreme about and is known for.
My first real character disign was fire. I made her a Scottish pict, as I could give her red hair and have her be her full passionate and chaotic self.
All the other ones are up in the air. But I realized that it would be really cool to make tree be an African person with a 4c type Afro and a long and skinny body type. That’s the most tree like I could have made someone! I was so happy and got really attached to my black tree character. I new that Africa was huge and old, and that’s not even counting the West Indies. Of course I could find a culture that was tree-like. All I needed to do was look.
All of this screeched to a hault today. I decided to look up the tree personality after years and years and was met with something heart breaking.
Aggressive, angry, reckless, arrogant, etc. this reminds me of the angry black stariotype mixed with the newer unreasonable blm protester one.
I’m unsure if I’m being too paranoid or if I’m being reasonable when I say that I’m not sure if I can make tree black. Even though the negitive descriptions are for when tree is unbalanced, it still doesn’t make it okay imo.
From a writers perspective, it makes snese to start characters at when they are unbalanced, because then it’s an easy wrote to character development. Even if I don’t do this, I have no choise but to make this character aggressive sometimes if I truly want to stay true to Tree.
For perpective here’s the other elements’ triats from Wikipedia
Fire also is aggressive. And also waters positive and negative traits are opposites. Earth is a mix of all elements so im imagining earth may also be aggressive when unbalanced. Do you think I can make this work or should I change tree’s race?
Fire is a white Celtic. And I’m unsure what culture I want earth to belong to. I’m thinking of making water be a Samoan(not sure what time period), metal is still Japanese for now but I am unsure if that still fits my change in casting intentions so that’s probably going to change. Basically what I’m saying is that I’m only really going to have one white character, bc I want the cultures to be spread out throughout the map.
I know black people are often forced to constantly be on their toes in turns of wether or not something is anti black and if they are unsafe in that environment. I’m not black, but I belong to multiple minority groups and I understand that feeling to a terrifying degree. The last thing I would want is to make a choise that resembles anti black caricatures and put black poeple in the position of wondering if I dislike them or if they are unsafe around me.
I understand that feeling, and I don’t want to put poeple throguh taht. I still want to have a super inclusive cast, but I’m also aware that I have to be very careful as a white writer. Even though my intentions were good, I accidentally associated a black character with aggressiveness and that’s extremely hurtful. I’m also aware that if I represent a black character well, it can be uplifting to a black audience that I took so much care to learn about an African culture and put it in a positive light.
I remember when I was a baby gay and I came across this channel run by a cishet who dedicated a large protion of his videos to calling out lgbt phobia and premoting the idea that we deserve to have rights and to feel safe and happy as who we are. I was in awe a cishet would do taht for us and felt personally touched. I want to be able to do something that other people feel that same way about, because it’s truly a beutiful thing.
So...where do I go from here? Do I change trees race to a different one? Please be honest. I know I say I have rejection sensitivity dysphoria, but that dosnt mean you can’t criticize me. It only means taht you have to be careful and not angry. I truly want to make this story the best it can be, and I want to know if I’m doing the right thing if I change tree’s race to something else. 
I want all people to feel safe while experiencing my work(idk if it will be a book or what, it’s very early in development).
I have no intention on making tree a villain, instead a good character who is the sweetest person you can meet. I feel like I would make fire much more angry and aggressive bc of the Scottish pict emphasis on war and and never backing down, to make my intentions clear.
But even then, that doesn’t change that tree is so connected to anger. And I’m not sure how I can work with that so if doesn’t seam like an anti black stariotype
Anger, anger, anger. I don’t knwo what to do. Please help, preferably black users because yall definitely know heaps more about this than me as a white person.
Please knwo that I mean well, and I’m never intended to make my tree character black if I remembered how heavily it’s associated with anger. All I remembered was the optimism and happiness, as I am sensitive to negativity and my brain probably forgot about the dark side of tree on purpose when I was 11 and didn’t even think of making tree black. I’m so disappointed in myself and I promise you I can do better. I just need some guidance. I’m sorry to anyone I may have let down. I hope I can grow form this and make this story the best it can be.
Edit: I think it’s also nessissary to note that the positive triats are for when the person is in balance or in a good head space, the negative ones for the opposite. That’s why the negative and positive triats seam like opposites, bc that’s what they are. Idk if I made that clear so I’m adding it now!
#tw anti blackness#long post#Tw racism#I’m so disappointed in myself#I’m not sure where to go from here#sensitivity reader#Chinese personality types#Chinese elements#idk how to tags this#writing advice#writeblr
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Yellow and Fuckboy- Random People Part 1
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Requested: None
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: Cussing, brief mentions of sexual harassment, brief talks about eviction, general bitchiness
Author’s Note: Ahhhhh, I finally posted something. I know I’m a day late, but I tried my best. I only had enough time to edit the first half, so sorry if there are any errors. This will be a series, with about 5, 6, or 7 parts, it depends on the turn this takes. Requests and taglists are open. Love you, and stay safe out there!
This is the end. Standing on a crosswalk in the middle of a bustling street with people screaming all around you. This is the end. But then again, you never know what the ending is until it's done. But it isn't done yet.
6 years. 6 years at that job. A good job. A job with a guarantee of climbing the corporate ladder. A job that you had just been fired from.
Why the fuck were you fired? Stupid bullshitters caught one whiff of a sexual harassment scandal and booted you out without a second thought. And blamed it on your "work ethic". Stupid Jonah should have been fired instead, he was the one who would wolf whistle and "flirt" (the shitty thing that he tried to claim he was doing instead of sexual harassment) whenever you walking by his desk. Not you.
Then after all of that shit, your landlord evicted you. Said that "you wouldn't be able to pay the rent" because you were fired. You would've been able to throw something together if he had trusted you. If someone had trusted you.
But no one had. You're just standing in the middle of the street. Without anyone. Trying to convince yourself that this wasn't the end of the world.
~
This is the beginning. The beginning of something. The beginning of a whole new future. In the middle of the bustling street, there was only one spotlight. And that spotlight is on James Barnes.
Today was the day. The day to end all other. Bucky's pulse was the only sound he could make out, even though there was noise all around him.
"What am I gonna do without you Buck." He turned around to look at a face he had seen almost every day of his life, a face he almost forgot was standing right next to him.
"I don't know Steve, but you’re gonna figure it out." The better question in Bucky's mind was what the hell he was going to do without Steve. Every day of his life he had seen Steve. What the hell was he going to do without the scrawny kid who wasn't afraid of a fight but definitely should be? Possibly survive, probably die.
On the inside, Bucky had no idea what the hell he was going to do. All he knew, is that this was the beginning of something. He didn't know what. All he knew was that it was the beginning
~
An apartment. That's all you needed. An apartment. One bedroom, one bathroom. Maybe even a kitchen, or a living room if you were lucky. Hell, at this point you'd settle for no windows.
Today is hell. It honestly couldn't get any worse.
Something hits your back. It was light, and for a moment you thought it could be a pebble or something. You reach behind you and touch the top of your back, right where the fabric of your shirt meets the strap of your backpack.
Nothing was there. You shrug your shoulders and continue to walk along. The same sensation hits your nose. Nothing, again. All there is is a small wet splotch. Oh. Oh no. This is bad. This is worse than bad. This is devastatingly horrible.
Looking up towards the sky in horror, you wince as another raindrop hits your cheek. The movies were right. You should never say "it can't get any worse." Because then it’ll immediately start raining.
At least it's only a small drizzle. Nothing too bad could come from it.
...Fuck.
Almost the exact second that thought ran through your mind that a complete and total downpour washed over you. Thunder was crashing all around you, and everyone started running. You pull up your backpack and put it over your head. Like that would do anything to stop the flood that was coming down to you.
If this was a movie you would be running through the rain to your estranged lover, but alas, this isn't a movie. Instead, you're running to a diner that is barely in your line of vision.
As you run towards the diner the wheel of your suitcase gets caught on the curb, causing you to fall over. While pushing yourself off the ground, you look down and see that your knees have been bloodied by the fall.
Sighing, you straighten your suitcase and continue to walk towards the restaurant at a much slower pace; partially because of your skimmed knees, and partially because your mood is just as hurt.
Once you reach the diner you stand in the foyer, thinking about all the horrific turns this day has taken. Wiping your feet on the mat and putting your backpack back on your back you sigh loudly into the universe. Not to a person, place, or thing, to the universe.
You open the door and take a whiff of fresh coffee and warm waffles. You roll your suitcase over the bump in the doorway and hear a clanging noise.
The diner was more crowded than most of the other diners you had been to in Brooklyn, and you wonder what makes it so special. The funny thing was that most people weren't in there to shield themselves from the rain, the majority of people looked like this was just another day, not the day the world was ending.
Dragging your suitcase behind you, you walk towards one of the only empty seats at the countertop. There is one empty seat on your left, and the one on your right is taken by a man in a blue business suit.
You take a seat on the stool and plop your suitcase down on the seat beside you. If someone wants to sit there enough they'll ask. You take a look at the menu in front of you. Within two seconds you had instantly picked out the meal that you wanted: chocolate chip pancakes and a coffee.
Waiting for the waiter to come over to take your order wasn't easy. You had just been fired, evicted, and then caught in a goddamn thunderstorm; you aren't in the mood to be patient.
For a few minutes, the seat next to you was empty. Then, someone walked up being you, and said the exact words: "Is this seat taken."
~
A rainstorm. Just his luck. Possible the only thing that could happen to take Bucky down a notch had happened, a rainstorm. It may not be the worst thing on the planet, but it's certainly up there.
Almost the exact second he had said goodbye to Steve for the last time in a long time, the sky opened up its floodgates and poured them down onto him. It was almost as if the weather was reciprocating the emotions he was feeling.
While running to the nearest building he could find, the only thought running through Bucky's head was how he would find the airport. He barely left Brooklyn, and when he did do it, it was by subway.
The bell chimed as he entered the building, which he could now see was a diner from the decor. Panting, he looked around the room for a seat. There didn't seem to be any until he spotted one with a suitcase on it.
The woman that the suitcase presumably belonged to was wearing a purple sweater and blue jeans that stopped midway up her calves. She was (for some twisted reason that was beyond him) wearing cheap yellow flip-flops that looked like they were from dollar tree. Her backpack was black, and the straps were sagging so much that the bottom of the bag reached several inches below the bottom of the seat she was sitting on.
Grumbling, Bucky walked over to the countertop, thinking of how much he didn't want to deal with some crazy lady wearing yellow flip-flops in the middle of a thunderstorm.
"Is this seat taken?" Bucky asks the yellow-flip-flop-wearing-lady with grain in his voice.
~
You turn around, trying to make the exhaustion on your face as clear as humanly possible. Turning to face the man who had so *rudely* interrupted your peaceful, if not depressing, brooding, you plaster a scowl over your face.
However, when you turn to see him, you see something that you were without a doubt not expecting. A handsome young man (dear god you sound like a grandmother).
He's wearing a brown coat, and the shirt beneath it is a navy blue. He's wearing a pair of dirty blue jeans, and it looks like the second or third time they’ve been worn without being washed. The black baseball hat he's wearing somehow matches perfectly with the rest of the ensemble. His dark brown hair is tousled in a way that's halfway between "fuckboy" and "my hair is messy because I was busy making you breakfast at 8 AM and I didn't have time to brush it."
But even when you take all of this into account (his flawless body, hair, face, eyes, and general vibe) you couldn’t bring yourself to be nice to him on such a shitty day. "What the fuck is your problem."
Instead of acting offended, or gasping in horror, he simply rolls his eyes. Yep, definitely a New York native.
"My fucking problem is that your backpack is in the seat I need to sit in." He almost looks more annoyed that you... Almost.
You roughly pull your suitcase off of the stool and onto the floor, not breaking eye contact with the fuckboy (that is the option that you have decided to go with since he's pissed you off this much).
He kicks your suitcase out of the way, and for a second he looks at you like he's expecting a big ass reaction, instead, all you do is scoff and stare straight in front of you.
The waiter walks up to you, and within a heartbeat, you can tell that she's new to Brooklyn. She has straight and perfectly combed black hair that doesn't have a single hair loose. She has perfectly straight posture, and the look in her eyes of someone who hasn't seen someone pee on a subway. Not to mention that that makeup matches with her skin tone perfectly, not the half-toned shit that's 2 shades off your skin tone that you wear.
"Can I take your order?" Her voice is far too cheery for a diner in Brooklyn, even the waiters who fake it for the tips couldn't muster up that much positivity.
Feigning a smile you simply say, "chocolate chip pancakes, and coffee as black as my heart." The waitress looked taken aback, and the sickly sweet smile that you choose to plaster on your face remained the same. "Thanks," you look to see her nametag "Manta."
Fuckboy snorts, and you can tell that he is far more amused by the situation than you are. "And all have the eggs and sausage with the-" snort "coffee as black as her heart."
'Manta' has an awkward look on her face, and you can tell that she is trying to push the negative emotions down. Her face soon perks up, and as she takes your menus she responds with: "I'll have that right out for you."
Your smile remains sickly sweet as she walks away, but it immediately drops the second she leaves your eyesight.
"Why the fuck are you wearing yellow flip-flops?" Fuckboy says with a sneer.
"Why the fuck aren't you wearing yellow flip-flops." You respond, raising both your eyebrows and speaking in a mocking tone.
~
This lady is getting on Bucky's fucking nerves. She acted like she ran the fucking place, when in fact the only thing she had control over her fucking flip-flops. He was trying not to be a sexist bitch, but Bucky was wondering how anyone could be so shit-headed.
In Bucky's eyes, today was supposed to be the perfect day. Starting over. Joining the military. Yet in "Yellow" (the name Bucky choose to call her in his head because of her obnoxious yellow flip-flops) seemed to be put on this earth to make Bucky feel any emotion but happiness. Fine, two could play at that game.
"You know, I was having a decent fucking day, so I would appreciate if you try not to ruin what's left of it." He said while staring at the clock and wondering how quickly he could get out of the establishment.
"We don't always get what we want." She shook her head in a way that made it seem like she was mocking him, which she didn't seem to be doing. Even if she was, she was doing it horribly.
"Can't I get what I want this fucking time." Bucky reaches into his pocket and rolls around a cigarette that he hasn't had the chance to smoke yet, and contemplates what the consequences of him pulling it out would be.
"No, apparently you can't," Yellow responds. Both of them were staring ahead into nothing.
The waitress, Manta, comes back with Yellow's pancakes. Yellow's fake sugary sweet demeanor returns and Bucky can tell under the artificial smile she seems slightly happy to receive the food.
Manta puts a coffee in front of each of them, and when she speaks she does it with her trademark smile, "Your sausage and eggs will be right out sir."
Putting on a fake smile (unlike Yellow he actually meant to be nice, and not just to be evil) he said: "thank you so much."
After receiving his coffee he turned to Yellow and said: "What the fuck made you act this way? Why in God's name would you be so horrible to someone who had done absolutely nothing."
Her head snaps back over to Bucky, and she makes piercing eye contact. "You know what made me act this way. You know fucking why?" Yellow seemed to actually state this as a question, but before Bucky could respond she continued.
"I was fucking fired because some shithead said he wanted to get in my jeans. Then I was evicted from my apartment by my asshole landlord. I have nothing and no one in my life that needs me, so why the fuck should I act happy." She pauses to catch her breath, then continues on her tirade.
"I've been nice to people who haven't deserved my entire fucking life, and I'm so fucking sick of it. You have a look on your face that says that the hardest decision you've ever had to make was to fuck someone from the front or the back. Get the fuck over yourself, some people have shit to deal with."
~
Why the fuck had you just explained your life story to a stranger. No idea. It just felt kind of right. In a weird and twisted way, you felted more comforted with this stranger than around assholes you had known your whole life.
"I'm sorry you went through that, but that doesn't mean you get to treat people like shit," Fuckboy said in a tone softer than any that someone had spoken to you in years.
Before you know what's happening you feel tears welling up in your eyes. "You're probably right. Shit, no. You're definitely right. I swear to god that I've never acted this way before. It's just, today is different." You look over to Fuckboy and shrug your head. "I've always had shit days, it's just that today was takes the cake."
Fuckboy looks down at his shoes and then back up at you. "Listen, I'm not sorry for what I said, I just want you to know that I believe you. From the story, you told me I'm pretty sure you're not used to people saying that to you.
"I think we got off on the wrong foot." He says in a tone that you're certain you haven't been spoken to before.
"I do too." You exclaim as you twist your lips around, keeping at least one part of your body busy as your mind roams Fuckboy's mannerisms.
"Here's your egg and sausage, sir." Manta puts a plate down in front of Fuckboy, much to his delight.
Fuckboy immediately stuffs his face with the sausage, and then looks over and glares at you. Understanding what his eyes were saying, you turn to face Manta.
"I'm sorry Manta. I didn't mean to be a bitch. I've had a long day, and, I don't know. It's not really an excuse, I'm just sorry." You look at her in hope, with a neutral expression on your face.
For a second you think she's going to react badly, and then she perks up again, excited by your apology. "Don't worry about it! We all have our bad days, and I just happened to catch you on yours."
You let out a sigh of relief and smile a genuine smile at her acceptance. "Um, here's my card; I don't work at the place listed there anymore, but the personal number still works. If you ever need a favor, just call me. I'm almost always by my phone, and what I mean by that is that I'm almost always scrolling through supermodels Insta feeds."
Upon excepting the card Manta perked up even more, "Thank you so much."
~
"So, how am I doing?" Yellow asks Bucky.
"...Actually pretty good. I'm super impressed that you can just turn it off and on like that, pretty twisted superpower." He exclaims with a chuckle.
"Thank you, for your overwhelming support," Yellow responds. After hearing her say this Bucky lets out a chuckle, and in his heart of hearts he truly means it.
"So, what's your life story. I already told you mine." Yellow Pauses to think for a second. "I swear if it's more depressing than mine, I'm going to be super pissed."
Bucky ponders the question for a moment, and then answers with: "Nothing too horrible I have a sister named Rebecca, my mom is my favorite person. I have a scrawny best friend named Steve." Bucky continues to think for a few more seconds and then, like a lightbulb, Bucky remembers something that is very important to his story. "And I am joining the military, today."
Yellow's jaw drops to the fucking floor, much to Bucky's amusement. "I'm so fucking sorry. If I had known I probably would of, well, done the same thing." She pauses and looks the other way in shame. "I'm sorry."
"It's all good, I wasn't really attached to my pride anyway." Yellow feigned shock and Bucky responded by chuckling. He was really liking her more and more as the moments passed.
"Oh, and by the way, my name is-" She started to say, but then Bucky quickly cut her off.
"I don't want to know your name. I'll probably never see you after today, and I don't want another thing to miss." Bucky knew that he wanted to know her name, but he also knew that he'd regret it if he found out.
Yellow raised her eyebrows in confusion (Bucky was beginning to think that this was a mannerism of hers) but she soon realized what he was getting at and then lowered them. "Okay, so then what do you propose you call me then?"
Bucky wanted to act like he was pondering this question, even when in reality he had made up the nickname in his head. "Yellow, because of your flip-flops."
"Again with the flip-flops! What is with your obsession?!" She counters with a laugh.
"So my name is-" Bucky says with a smile, counteracting her statement.
"Na-ah-ah," Yellow responds, waving her finger in front of Bucky's face as if to scold him, much to his amusement. "If I get a codename, so do you."
"What's it gonna be?" Bucky asks entertained by this entire conversation, and curious to see what nickname she was going to give him.
"Fuckboy." She says, making a definite stance.
"Thank you, for that overwhelming compliment," Bucky responds, slightly taken aback by her brutal remark.
"It's not a bad thing. It's because of your hair." She says, her grin growing wider by the minute.
"My hair?" Bucky responds, not sure of what to do with that piece of information.
"Yes your hair, gives off major Jack Dawson vibes." She counters with a chuckle.
"So Jack is suddenly is suddenly a fuckboy?" Bucky exclaims as he takes another bite of his eggs.
"Need I remind you that he painted women nude in fucking France." She says right before swallowing a bite of her pancakes.
"I get your point, Fuckboy it is," Bucky says with a smile that lights up his entire face, causing a chain reaction on Yellow.
~
Fuckboy was charming. Then again, all fuckboys are charming. But he seemed different, he seemed... Softer.
"Why are you joining the military, if you don't mind me asking." You exclaim as you twirl your finger around on the rim of your coffee.
"I dunno; my entire life I just wanted to help people, and I found a way to do that using something I'm good at. Fighting." He exclaims through a full mouth of eggs.
"It sounds like you do know." You say a second before you put another bite of pancake into your mouth.
"Know what?" Fuckboy asks you through a mouth full of eggs.
"Why you're joining the military." You say, your mouth equally as stuffed.
"That's what I tell people." He says, looking over to you with endearing eyes. "I really don't know why. If I think too hard about it I come to the conclusion that it's because I know my life will have come to nothing if I don't do something noteworthy."
His brow creases, and you ponder for a second what your response will be. "How do you know that you'll do something noteworthy in the army? How do you know that your life won't end up as anything no matter how hard you try to make it do the opposite."
Fuckboy turns to look at you, amusement resting on his features. "Thank you for the vote of encouragement."
"I'm only saying this because I don't think you could ever be nothing. I immediately classified you as a Leonardo DiCaprio type, that's not nothing. You're going to do great thing's whether it's in the military or not."
Fuckboy looks up from his eggs in earnest. "Thank you for saying that, it makes me feel a lot better."
"The trick is to be as brutally honest as possible. You're bound to say at least one thing right if 89% of everything you say is completely and totally devastating bullshit."
You finish off the last bite of your pancake and pick up your suitcase from the floor. "Well, I expect payment from my words of wisdom to be the eight dollars for my pancakes, peace out!"
This conversation had become too emotional, you knew you would have gotten attached if you continued the conversation.
"Wait no!" Fuckboy catches your arm, and your secretly happy that he wanted you to stay with him.
"I don't have to check in until six, so would you like to stay with me until then? I was going to go around some landmarks, and maybe see a broadway show, but I would appreciate it if you stayed with me, for just these few hours."
His forehead was doing that cute crease thing, and you faked internal conflict before saying what was always on your mind through it all: "yes."
His face practically explodes with excitement, and yours does too. You and Fuckboy didn't have forever, but at least you had today. And you were going to live this day as if it were your last.
Part 2
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Hello, Are You There? || Part 2
Minako tries the number neighbor thing. Thinking it was an inactive number, she decides to vent and express her frustrations, turning it into a sort of mini diary. What she didn’t expect was somebody was actually on the other line and decided to send a message back.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Word Count: 4.3k+
Pairing: Akihiko Sanada x Minako Arisato
Note: this chapter includes a long text message thread between headphones and pancakes ehe and some slight angst jfjfdnjf im sorry the next one is gonna be fluffy i promise ; u ; ALSO i accidentally posted this w/o the proper editing so if u saw this b4 im sorry fhrkjfrbf
“Arisato, your grades aren’t so impressive these past few weeks, may I know why?” Miss Toriumi, the teacher in-charge of Minato’s class, asks with concern evident in her voice. This was so unlike him, he always manages to snag the highest scores and is an excellent student. Minato just shrugs nonchalantly. Miss Toriumi sighs, probably realizing Minato probably won’t open up any time soon.
“Arisato, I know you don’t feel comfortable opening up to me. But I hope you are at least opening up to someone. Perhaps your sister?” Miss Toriumi continues. Minato shrugged once again. Before Miss Toriumi could continue once more, a fellow student entered the room.
“Miss Toriumi, you are needed at the Student Council room.” Miss Toriumi gave a quick nod to the other student, and turns to Minato. “Well, I am needed elsewhere. I will take my leave, but please keep in mind that you can talk to me if you need guidance.”
Minato walked out of the Faculty Room and headed for the school gates.
These past few days, Minato has felt… lost.
He overheard his classmates talking about which career paths they will be pursuing, and he felt… left behind. His classmates have already started planning their future and they seemed so… certain.
Minato hasn’t felt the feeling of certainty ever since their parents went abroad without them. They said it's for work, but right now, he really isn't sure if it really is for work. Before they left, he heard them saying that ‘the children are getting bothersome to deal with’. Ever since then, the feeling of stability, the feeling of being sure about something has become a foreign concept to him. Do his parents still love them? Are they a burden? If he was wrong for thinking that his own parents most certainly love and support them, then what about the others? Who's to say he isn't wrong with everything else? Minato envies his classmates, because even though they are the same age as he is, somehow they have already gotten everything figured out for themselves.
‘Why couldn’t he be more like that?’ He could hear the voice in his head say.
This train of thought is the only thing occupying his mind for the past few days, and it has greatly affected his life. His academic grades, his club performance, and even his relationships with both his friends and his very own sister.
Ever since the seed of doubt in his mind was planted, the voice in his head started getting louder and braver.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’
‘Are you sure that’s the right choice?’
‘You probably won’t go far in life.’
‘You’re a failure. That’s why they left.’
He tried everything he can to drown out the voice in his head. He tried listening to music, hanging out with his friends, playing at the arcade, anything. Anything to make it go away or so that he can no longer hear it.
But of course, it is not that easy.
He wanted to talk to his sister, he really did. But he didn’t know how to. It was something he had in common with his sister. Despite being surrounded by many friends, opening up still remains difficult for the both of them. And what makes it even harder is that, he doesn’t know how to explain this feeling of his. Deep down, he is thinking that, perhaps, this was just something he made up himself and that it is not real. So he tried driving his attention somewhere else.
He decided to go somewhere quiet, somewhere hidden.
He let his feet lead him, with his loud music blasting from his headphones.
This mindless walking led him to the train station’s back alley.
It was deserted. Perfect.
He sat down and closed his eyes. Eventually his phone started vibrating. Picking it up, he received a message from Minako.
Sis: hey im in a study grp w fuuka and yukari
Sis: ill be late so eat b4 u go home
Minato was about to send a reply to his sister, when three older men approached him.
“Hey, little man. What are ya doing here?” One of them, whom Minato assumed was their leader, asked him. They didn’t seem too happy with seeing an unfamiliar boy at their hangout spot.
“Nothing.” Minato replied simply, shoving his phone in to his pocket and fixing his headphones into position. The men, however, were irritated by this.
“Ye’r in our spot.” The leader, who apparently has a nose piercing, took a step closer. They tried to look intimidating, but it did not faze Minato one bit.
“And?”
“Leave.”
“No.”
The guy was starting to get angry, and started digging around in his pocket. “Ye’r from Gekkoukan High, aren’t ya? Damn, one of yous are always trying to waltz around here like some hotshot, but guess what? Ye’r not.”
“Ok.” Minato said absentmindedly. And finally, the man reveals what he was hiding in his pocket. A knife. Minato stood up quickly. “I’ll leave.”
“Haha, ye’r too late. I am angry now.” The man swings his knife, and Minato was barely even able to dodge it. It grazed slightly against his cheek, forming a small scar.
“Hey, stop that!” A tall man wearing a beanie and maroon peacoat quickly came to his rescue. He was able to restrain the man and retrieve the knife from him. Mr. Nose Piercing tried flailing around, but the tall man was much stronger than he is.
“Hey, let him go!” The two other guys who entered with Mr. Nose Piercing, approached the tall male restraining their friend. But before they could attack, another male, a silver-haired gentleman wearing a red vest came, and was able to knock down one guy.
The one left standing kneeled down, pleading for mercy. “Please! I didn’t do anything! It was all him!” He then pointed at Mr. Nose Piercing. The tall, beanie-wearing man scoffed, “Wow, selling your friend out just to be able to escape? How pathetic.”
“Aki, get the knife.”
“Got it, Shinji.”
Mr. Beanie, or Shinji as he was called, dropped Mr. Nose Piercing onto the ground.
“Take your friend, and the other one too. Don’t come back or else we will call the police.”
“Fuck ya, Aragaki! I thought ye were one of us!” Mr. Nose Piercing shouted but quickly exited when he was able to successfully carry his knocked-down friend.
Shinji shook his head and muttered under his breath, “I was never one of you.”
Mr. Red Vest (Minato forgot his name) turned to him and asked, “What were you doing here?”
“I was trying to clear my head.”
Mr. Red Vest looks around, “In here?” He didn’t seem to understand why he chose this out of all the places in Port Island. It was really unhygienic and lots of trashes are strewn around. If he were to go here to clear his head, he’d probably exit more troubled than before.
“Well, you did find me here. So yes, here. I was trying to clear my head here.” Minato sarcastically quipped. Mr. Red Vest looked so confused.
Shinji, approached Minato and gave him a band-aid and an unopened water bottle. Minato raised his eyebrows.
“For your scar. I only have water for now, so use it to clean it. Then cover it with the band-aid. When you get home do a more thorough clean, though. It’s a small scar but better be safe than sorry.” Shinji stated. When Minato accepted the items, Shinji put his hands back into his pockets.
“Don’t come back here anymore. Find another place to clear your head. Let’s go, Aki.”
Ah, Mr. Red Vest was named Aki.
“Um, alright. Goodbye.” Aki awkwardly gave a small wave, and they left. Minato decided to gather his belongings and go home.
/./
As Minato approached the apartment, he pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time. However, his phone died. Minato sighs and when looked up, he notices that the lights are on.
Minako is home.
He brought his hand up to his face, feeling around the band-aid that was placed. He hopes Minako doesn’t notice. The last thing he wants to do is stressing Minako out even more. As he turns the doorknob, he looks down. Hopefully, not meeting her eyes would make it less obvious. As he opens the door, he was met with his sister who was in front of the door. ‘Was she going out?’
“And just where have you been?” Minako asked in a harsh tone. It was rare for her to speak like that and when he heard it, he flinched.
Not wanting to anger her even more, he lied. “With the boys.”
“Lies. They told me they didn’t know where you were.”
‘Well, shit.’
‘You’re just gonna come up with a lie and it was a terrible one.’
Not wanting to receive her wrath, he skimmed past her.
“Minato, I am talking to you.”
He stopped abruptly, still not turning to face her, “What?”
“What? What?! What do you mean ‘what’? I was worried sick! You didn’t answer any of my calls, and your friends didn’t know where you were! Not to mention that it’s late, who knows what kind of criminal could be lurking around the streets at this moment!” He could hear the frustration and worry in Minako’s voice, but he couldn’t bring himself to face her.
He feels that if he did, he’ll break down.
“Calm down, I got home safely didn’t I? It’s fine. You’re worrying over nothing.” Minato cringed at what he said, he knew that he sounded extremely self-centered right now but he couldn’t take it back anymore.
‘You’re the bad guy.’
Minato quickly got up the stairs, not wanting to say any more things that he didn’t mean.
“Minato Arisato, come back down here! I am not done talking to you!”
/./
The next day, the twins’ train ride to the school was really awkward. They can’t meet each other’s eyes. However, Minako would be lying if she said that the band-aid on Minato’s face didn’t worry her one bit. They both seem like they have so much to say, but are hesitating whether it was the right moment or not. They instead decide to disappear into their own worlds, with the power of music. It didn’t help calm down Minako’s nerves, so she decided to fidget with her phone. She eventually found her thumb hovering over the messaging app.
‘Fuck it.’
Minako: hey headphones
Minako: gud am
Headphones: Good morning to you too, pancake. :)
Headphones: How are you today?
Minako: um
Minako: don’t wanna talk about it
Minako: can we talk about something else?
Headphones: Sure. What do you want to talk about?
Minako: uhh
Minako: wanna get to know eachother?
Headphones: Okay. How will this work?
Minako: we take turns asking questions, but no matter who’s turn it is, we will both answer
Headphones: Okay, you first?
Minako: mmm
Minako: pronoun?
Minako: i’m she/her
Headphones: He/Him. :)
Headphones: What do you do on your free time?
Headphones: I either train to make myself stronger or hang out with a close friend. :) You?
Minako: maybe at home cleaning/cooking
Minako: or hanging out w friends as well
Minako: do u like any sports?
Minako: i play volleyball
Headphones: Wow, that’s great!
Headphones: I’m into boxing :)
Minako felt her cheeks heat up. Wow, that’s kinda hot.
‘Wait…’
‘What the hell am I thinking?!’
Headphones: Favorite food?
Headphones: Of course, you already knew about pancakes, but I also like eating beef bowls and ramen from time to time. But no meal of mine is complete without sprinkling some protein powder on it. :)
Minako: oh uhhh
Minako: anything sweet ig
Minako: i’ve got a sweet tooth hehe
Headphones: Then I guess the nickname ‘Pancake’ is perfect for you then. :)
Minako doesn’t know why but whenever they call her that name, it makes her cheeks warm and her heart starts beating faster. This feeling is foreign, but it sure as hell isn’t unwelcomed.
Minako looked out the window and noticed that the train is nearing its destination.
Minako: hey so uh i gtg real soon
Minako: ttyl?
Headphones: Alright, pancake. Take care. :)
Minako: umm
Minako: thanks
Headphones: No problem.
Minako: i dont think u understand, really
Minako: thank u from the bottom of my heart
Minako: for talking to me n being here n all that
Headphones: Anytime. :)
/./
During lunch, Minako decided to eat with Fuuka and Yukari. On the other hand, Minato ate with Junpei and Kenji. Their friends do not seem to be aware that the siblings are currently giving each other the ‘silent treatment’ and haven’t even uttered a word to each other since last night.
As Minako sat down with her food, her phone vibrated in her pocket. As Yukari and Fuuka were settling down in their own seats, she decides to check her phone.
Headphones: Hey, pancake. It’s lunchtime and I hope that you are eating well. :)
That short message made Minako smile so big that it didn’t go unnoticed by Yukari and Fuuka. They gave each other a quick look and turned back to silently observe Minako.
After sending a quick reply, Minako put her phone on the table and placed her bag beside her. After a few minutes, her phone vibrated. Her screen lit up, and it was a message from Headphones again.
Headphones: It better not be all sweets! Your body needs other nutrients too.
Minako chuckled at the message. Which, once again, did not go unnoticed. Yukari scooted over to Fuuka and whispered, “Do you think she forgot that we were here?”
Fuuka replied quietly, “Um, do you know who she’s texting?”
Yukari shrugged and mouthed, ‘Rio?’
Minako: heh okay MOM
Minako: make sure ure the same ok protein man
Minako put her phone down and picked up her utensils, when her phone vibrated again.
Headphones: Hey, that’s not the nickname you gave me!
Minako giggled at the message, but it was cut off by the sound of Yukari clearing her throat. Minako freezed when she realized that she momentarily forgot that Fuuka and Yukari were with her.
“So… who is your new text mate?” Yukari started, sporting a teasing smile and looking at her knowingly.
“Uh, Rio?”
Yukari raised her eyebrows, “Are you asking me?”
Minako cleared her throat, trying to show a poker face. “No, it IS Rio.”
Yukari turned to Fuuka, “Are you buying this, Fuuka?”
“No… She’s acting a bit suspicious.” Fuuka said, shyly.
“Fuuka!” Minako exclaimed, startling nearby students.
“Heh, you heard her. So who is it?”
“It’s nothing! I just saw a funny meme!”
“Would a funny meme make your phone vibrate three times in a row?”
“It’s a notification from a meme page? Um, yeah that’s it! They’re just really active today!” Minako cringed when she heard how fake that sounded.
“Why do you sound so uncertain, this makes it easier to see that you’re lying, y’know?” Yukari said smugly, and Minako doesn’t know if she should admit to Yukari that her new text mate is actually the guy from their number neighbor shenanigan. It’s nothing bad, it’s just that Minako knows that if she mentions this to them, she would not hear the end of it from Yukari.
“Okay fine.” Minako took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you.”
Yukari smiled triumphantly, while Fuuka’s eyes widened in surprise.
“So, who is it?”
“Before I tell you, can I ask what happened to your number neighbors?” Minako asked, hoping to stall.
“Hm, mine blocked me when I sent that message.” Yukari shook her head, disappointed.
“Oh, mine was really scary. They said that if I message them again, they will call the police.” Fuuka said, fidgeting with her fingers.
“What?! Isn’t that a bit too much?” Minako quickly held Fuuka’s hand, hoping to give her some sort of comfort.
“Oh, it’s fine. Maybe they thought I was a hacker or something. It’s not bad to be cautious.”
Yukari sighs, “Let’s never do this again.”
Fuuka nodded, “Agreed.”
There was a moment of silence, until Fuuka spoke up, “Why did you ask about that though, Minako?”
“Oh um… W-well…” Minako looked away and nervously laughed. Until Yukari realized why.
“Wait, is your number neighbor your new text mate?”
“Ehehe, yes?”
Fuuka and Yukari gasped.
“Well, well, well… It looks like I was right. You were able to get a relationship out of this number neighbor thing. Oh! How romantic! You were just one digit away from each other!” Yukari giggled and began hugging Fuuka out of excitement.
“Relationship? N-no… We aren’t in a re-relationship. We’re just… talking. Hehe..” Minako stuttered, and she really wanted to slap herself when she heard how she sounded.
“Yeah, and a relationship comes next after that!” Yukari cheered loudly, standing up and thrusting a first in the air triumphantly. The students in the next table seemed irritated by our table.
“Yukari, simmer down! You’re disturbing the other students!” Minako tried to get Yukari to sit back down. Fuuka found the situation amusing, and giggled.
“Anyways, give us details! You can’t expect us not to want more info when you told us that you actually ended up being text mates with your number neighbor! Spill!”
“Well, he is a nice guy. He is really understanding and willing to listen to my problems. He also respected my decision when I told him to call each other by code names instead of our real names. He also checks in with me every once in a while to see if I was okay…” Minako tells them, and unknowingly smiling to the thought of him. It wouldn’t have been noticed by Yukari and Fuuka if she wasn’t blushing so hard.
“Aww, you like him! Ask him if he wants to meet up, ey?”
“W-what! No! I-I barely know him!”
“Yeah, that’s why you are going to meet up, duh! To get to know each other more… and who knows… This could be something worth mentioning at your wedding when Fuuka and I give our toasts as your maid of honors!”
“Oh, that does sound cute!” Fuuka mentions cheerily.
“Fuuka, NO. Do not encourage Yukari, that wasn’t cute at all!”
/./
After classes, Minato waited outside of Minako’s classroom. Minato decided that he was going to apologize and open up to Minako, no matter what. He doesn’t want to keep his sister in the dark anymore. After a few minutes of waiting for his sister, he decided to go in himself and approach her. He saw her chatting with Fuuka while cleaning up her things.
“Sis.” Minato called, while dumping his bag on top of her desk. “Come with me, you can leave your things for now.” He grabbed his hand and led her outside.
Fuuka seemed confused, but resumed to picking up the scattered trashes. After a few minutes, Yukari entered the room, looking for someone. She quickly found Fuuka and approached her. “Where’s Minako?”
“Oh, Minato told her he had something to talk about. They left their things here, so you can just wait for them. If you wish to talk to Minako, they’ll probably come back soon.”
Suddenly, Yukari grinned widely. “They left their things, ey? So Minako’s phone is in here?”
Fuuka blinked a few times. ‘Why would Yukari ask about Minako’s phone?’
“Yeah, I think? I didn’t see Minako bring anything with her because Minato quickly dragged her outside, it seemed like he had something urgent to say.”
“Aha, I see… Fuuka, want to do a prank with me?”
/./
Minako was surprised by how her brother took the initiative to approach her first. She was happy as it seems like Minato is finally going to start opening up to her, something she wished he did from the start. And then, she remembers Headphone’s words: ‘He just needs some time to figure it out himself and then he will approach you.’
Minato finally let go of her wrist when they arrived at the persimmon tree. He signaled for her to sit down at the nearby bench, which was under the shade. For a few minutes, they were silent. Just taking in the peaceful environment and the cool, refreshing wind.
Minato was the first to speak up. “I’m sorry.”
Minako turned to look at him, “I’m sorry, too. For shouting at you last night, that was unnecessary.”
Minato shook his head and gave his sister a small smile. “No, that was okay. I was being unreasonable. But that’s not the only thing I’m apologizing for.”
Minako tilted her head, confused. “Huh?”
“I have been hiding things from you because I had a feeling you wouldn’t understand me. But that was wrong of me, I shouldn’t just start assuming things and then suddenly start closing off myself. When we were at the train this morning, it felt wrong that you weren’t talking to me. It was a really sucky feeling to have. And then I realized, that this was what you must be feeling when I stopped talking to you.” Minato closed his eyes and buried his face into the palms of his hands.
Minako frowned seeing her brother so distraught. She was about to say something, but Minato lifted his head and continued talking.
“The truth is, lately I have been feeling lost. I don’t know what to do. I feel… empty. I don’t know how to explain it, but basically it’s like the world is in black and white. It’s lifeless, and I don’t see the point. I am… uncertain whether I am making the right choice or not. A voice in my head is always telling me that I am making a bad choice or that I’m a failure. I… I’m sorry if I’m not making sense.”
“Minato, it’s fine… I understand.”
“Do you still love me? You won’t leave?”
Minako was shocked by what he said, “Why would you even think that? I would never leave you! You’re my brother… I would never abandon you.”
“But… mom and dad did.” Minato said quietly, and Minako feel the lump in her throat growing bigger.
“That’s okay. We don’t need them. I won’t ever leave you Minato. You are my partner-in-crime, my bestfriend, and most importantly, my brother. I love you so much and we will always be together.”
“But what will we do about the voice in my head?”
“Well, you have me. We can figure about this together. If you want, we can go see a therapist?”
“I don’t think I’m ready for that…”
“Then that is okay too. You will only go if you want to. I am here for you no matter what, and if you ever start having bad thoughts or the voice in your head gets stronger, just go to me. No matter what time or day, whether there’s classes or not, I’ll be there. Okay?”
“Okay. Thank you.”
Minako and Minato gave small smiles to each other and they hugged. After a few moments, they let go and talked to each other for a few more minutes before heading back inside.
/./
When Minako and Minato returned to the classroom to retrieve their items, they were met with Fuuka looking uneasy and fidgeting. “Fuuka? You okay?” Minako approached her friend, going in for a hug to comfort her but Fuuka jumped.
“Minako! I am so sorry! I tried stopping Yukari but she was determined!” Fuuka bowed her head.
“What are you talking about? What did Yukari do?” Minato strided over, curious with what made Fuuka so worried. Minako shrugged at Minato, confused and worried for her friend.
Fuuka stood up straight, but still unable to look Minako in the eye. Right at that moment, Yukari came in holding an empty food wrapper. “Oh, Minako! There you are!”
Minako, Minato and Fuuka all whipped their heads to where Yukari’s voice was coming from. Yukari approached them, waving the empty food wrapper in front of their faces. “Minako, Fuuka and I are really sorry for eating this deluxe donut snack from the canteen without you! Fuuka was so worried because she knows you like it so much, but I was really hungry so I ate it! Sorry!”
Minako frowned and raised her eyebrow at Yukari, crossing her arms. “Is that all?”
Yukari gulped, and Fuuka started playing with the hem of her skirt, not strong enough to look Minako in the eye. “Yeah, that’s all! R-right Fuuka?” Yukari approached Fuuka, trying to silently ask for back-up.
Fuuka finally looked up to Minako and nodded quickly. “Y-yes! We’re really sorry, Minako!”
Minato stood awkwardly beside Minako, who was seriously studying Yukari and Fuuka. Serious Minako is scary Minako. Eyes scrutinizing their every movement, lips in a tight line, and arms across her chest making her seem even more intimidating.
After a few minutes of silence, Minako gave them a bright smile and laughed. Yukari and Fuuka were surprised and Minato was confused.
“Aww, girls! Don’t worry about that! You were hungry so it’s fine!” Yukari gave a sigh of relief, while Fuuka was still a bit shaken up. Minako closed her distance with the two girls and gave them both a hug.
“But next time, wait for me okay?” She whispered, in their ears eerily.
“Y-yes, Minako.”
“Haha, yeah…”
/./
RECENTLY DELETED THREAD
Minako: hey
Minako: do u live near tatsumi port island
Headphones: Yeah, I do. Why?
Minako: wanna meet tomorrow, sunday?
Minako: get to know each other?
Headphones: Oh, you want to meet?
Headphones: That’s fine by me. :)
Headphones: Where though?
Minako: paulownia mall, that ok? specifically chagall café
Minako: i have brunette hair with silver pins on it forming XXII
Minako: i’ll also be wearing a red scarf
Headphones: That sounds good!
Headphones: See you soon, pancake. :)
#Persona 3#persona#shin megami tensei#persona 3 akihiko#persona 3 minako#akihiko sanada#minako arisato#minato arisato#yukari takeba#fuuka yamagishi#junpei iori#shinjiro aragaki#hamuko arisato#akihamu#akiham#video games#fanfic#fluff#akihiko#akihiko fic#number neighbor
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