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#haven't seen it giffed like this yet so i wanted to do it!
pururing · 2 days
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Hi everyone, thank you so much for your supportive messages. I'm not sure if it's okay to answer since I don't allow anonymous questions, so I didn't. I'll go thank you personally later when I have time.
I was pretty upset yesterday and will be thinking about what to do for a while(probably just sit and wait for the next episode for now), but thanks to a few people who were willing to speak up, I had a much better day for you. It means a lot to me that you took the risk of getting involved in a needless dispute and did this.
I think most of the communication failures start with the disagreement that Asians can't be whiter than Caucasians (I'm not convinced of this, so I prefer the way it's portrayed in the show).
And when I said that children tend to have lighter skin than their parents, I meant that they are generally lighter because they haven't seen much sunlight yet. They will change as they grow, This is due to the experience of watching many children(mostly my baby sibling and cousins) and my own growing up experience. but perhaps my translator mistranslated it as "getting lighter as they older" which is opposit of what I tried to tell, and I didn't catch it, so there was some miscommunication.
As I mentioned, I'm just working from what I see on the screen. I did find some pictures that suggest that Jee may look brighter than maddie, but I won't upload them here because the gif creator may be offended that I'm dragging his work into this debate. (My google search was jee maddie. If anyone wants to look it up.)
I don't think there's any more controversy to be had, and I'm sure anyone who disagrees with me has already blocked me, so I'm going to try something a little different. Here's the real reason for my boring and long post.
I wanted to clarify that I am very careful with racial descriptions.
As I said before, I'm a mainstream Korean and because of this, I grew up in an atmosphere that was pretty indifferent to other cultures and countries. When I became an adult, I was fortunate enough to have friends from Europe, America, Canada, Latin America, Southeast Asia, etc. I was quite shocked. The world is so much bigger and more diverse than what I had conceptually known. And that people in those cultures are very proud of their identity. And I really respect it.
After that realization, I could have gone back to living a normal life in Korea, but unfortunately, I was born to be a fanartist, and I started to like foreign content instead of Korean content. (like Japanese, Chinese, English-based content, etc.).
I learned about how some effective but insensitive depictions can be historically and realistically offensive and unpleasant experiences for certain races. The problem is that there are a lot of small details that you really don't notice if you're not a party to them, especially since so many discussions are primarily in English and the information curated by a few active people and translated into our social media is where most of our knowledge comes from, so we can offend people without even trying.
I am very aware of this and am open to input from others in this regard. I am very cautious about drawing a race I don't know in the first place, so I try to avoid realistic depictions. But on the other hand, the "cartoon" style I've been taught actually leads me to omit many features. Age, body type, beauty. So this is the style I've adopted when I want to draw fanart of works based on real people, especially if they're multiracial (especially since I've always been more of a comic artist than an illustrator.) I wish I was a better artist and had more options, but honestly, this is my limit. Sorry.
I would like to apologize if anyone feels hurt or upset by any of my non-Asian characters and thinks they are too stereotypical, don't look like them at all, or are too ridiculous.(Even white people. I was taught that there are many differences and histories even among people who are considered white.)
I really don't want to use my art style as a shield to justify any depiction of race, and I'm worried that someone might get the wrong idea that I have such an opinion.
All of my intentions are simply to make sure that no one in the fandom is offended by the artwork, and to provide some lighthearted entertainment that is just a good laugh at a silly cartoon.
Sometimes people wonder why we invest so much passion into a character on screen, but it's a great feeling to share and empathize with someone who feels the same way. Especially when they have something in common with you. That's why I cared so much about Jee and Chimney even though I'm primarily a Buddie shipper. I don't know a lot about immigrants, but I found it very funny and entertaining that he immigrated when he was 5 years old, his family moved back to Korea, and his father video calls from his very traditional grandfather's room. Despite the many inaccuracies, it's fun to see someone try this hard. I will say here that I am very cautious when drawing other races because I understand that my inaccurate depictions can create an unpleasant experience for others, especially if they feel a strong connection to them.
So, I'm not sure what I will do in the future or when I will draw and share more, but if anyone finds any depictions in my future drawings that may be offensive, I will be open to being corrected. I just don't want my Korean identity to be infringed upon by claims that I don't resemble the way "Asian stereotypes" are drawn. (There's a reason I say Korean identity, not Asian or East Asian. The history here is too complex to group into one word…) I will respect others and you will respect me. That's all I want.
Anyway, that's all I have to say. I am aware that my upbringing inevitably narrows my perspective, and I don't want to use my people of color or non-Western culture as a weapon to further an agenda of agency that I don't have.
If anyone is still reading, thanks for the long read. really. And I'm sorry for bringing conflict into the fandom.
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miguelo-hara · 2 years
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What We Do In The Shadows 4.07 | Pine Barrens
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obscurevideogames · 9 months
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Tumblr’s Core Prodct Stratgy
Here at Tumblr, we’ve been working hard on trying to keep our sinking ship afloat for as long as possible. This means desperately trying to copy every new fly-by-night social media app that some multi-billionaire sh*t out during their daily Peloton routine. What follows is the strategy we're using to accomplish the goal of user growth. If you find the things we say here worrisome, please understand that is our exact intention. You've outgrown our target demographic. Don't let the door hit you on the way out.
The Diagnosis
It's lookin' pretty bad y'all!
After somehow losing hundreds of thousands of users during the great pr0n purge of 2018, we started to wonder if anything could be done to get back to where we were. We even brought in a management consultant who charged us a ridiculous amount of money. It would make you sick if you knew how much, but we got a few nice meals out of it at least. Anyhow, we handed this guy the app, and HE HAD NO IDEA HOW TO USE IT! It was f*cking hilarious! But suddenly it all clicked -- our users are a bunch of stupid idiots who can't even do basic arithmetic. I mean, they spend all day looking at their phones, so what do you expect?
Tumblr’s best feature is its unique content and vibrant communities. But who cares, right? We're just as happy getting traffic from people sh*t-posting memes, vague-booking, giving out-of-context hot takes to news events, and spewing whatever random thought is in their head at the moment. Plus that stuff doesn't p*ss off Apple.
To keep this thing going we need new people. And by "people" we mean teenagers, like we used to have back in the good ol' days. Unfortunately we're all in our 40s now, so we have no idea what they want. But teenagers are so cool! Imagine if they talked to us like we're one of them? We're getting hard just thinking about it.
Our Guidng Principls
To make Tumblr cool again, we must address these huge glaring issues.
People can look at a blog without logging in. How is that fair to all the poor schlubs who had to fill out forms to get an account? Also we haven't figured out a way to force ads onto the personalized pages yet. But we swear that's not the main reason.
People can see content they are looking for or linked to. People can keep up with blogs they follow. But the problem with this is, people don't know what they want. We know what they want! We're smart. We wrote this damn site, remember?
Promote posts that incite pointless conversations. Posts that are guaranteed to bait every troll into responding. Isn't that why all your Magat relatives love Facebook so much? We can do that!
P*ss off your content creators in every way possible (see #2).
Create algorithms that throw an unending barrage of irrelevant content in your face. Have you seen Instagram lately? We could do that so easy!!!
The app is slow. The website is slow. Obviously this is because of GIFs. Facebook and Instagram don't allow them, so why should we?
Conclusion
Our mission changes on a day-to-day basis. Right now we're super jealous of all the attention that new Threads thing is getting. We're still not sure what it is, but we're gonna download it after work.
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from-the-clouds · 1 year
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savior complex - joel miller x f!reader
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masterlist | song inspo | gif: @joelmjller
All the skeletons that you hide Show me yours, I'll show you mine
summary: Joel shows up at your doorstep, battered and bruised. Despite the bad blood between you, do you have the heart to turn him away? Enemies to lovers. Takes place pre-television series/game. Was written as a companion piece/prequel to my other joel fic, but can be read on it's own. pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 7k warnings: SMUT - 18+ ONLY, minors DNI. porn w/ plot, unprotected sex, dirty talk, implied age gap. Enemies to lovers. Heavy angst, multiple POVs, implied drug abuse, alcohol use, implied death of a family member, canon-typical suffering! Descriptions of injuries, blood, stitches (please dm for specifics if you have any questions). a/n: I haven't seen the enemies to lovers trope written for joel yet, and I'm also obsessed with the trope of a character showing up at their enemies house because they don't have any place to go. So maybe this is a little self-indulgent. Special shoutout to @ay0nha for letting me talk to you about this fic! Please enjoy, I'm really proud of/excited about this one.  ♥
“What do you want?” 
The ice in your own voice comes as a surprise. You weren’t sure you were even capable of sounding so cold, but it’s probably a good skill to have nowadays. Plus, he’s probably the last person you expect to see, and certainly the last person you want to see standing in your doorway.
“I need your help,” he says. 
You snort, lips pressing together in a bitter smile. “Uh-huh.”
It’s so dark in the hallway, you can barely see his face, but you can imagine what Joel might look like, lines etched in his face from the permanent frown he’s always wearing, particularly when dealing with you. You’ve known him a handful of years, here and there, and you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen him smile….or laugh…or display any emotion other than irritation, or indifference. 
The breeze from your open window shifts your curtains to the side, lets a sliver of light from the full moon pan over him, and you can see him clearly, just for a second. 
He’s covered in blood. 
It’s hard to see exactly how much, but it’s all over his face, his shirt, and accompanied by dirt and grime. One of his hands hangs limp at his side, his opposite clenched into a tight fist. The breeze dies down, the curtain falls back into place, and he’s cast once more in shadow. 
Crossing your arms, you lean against the doorframe. Anyone else, you’d help without question. At one point, you would’ve let him in willingly. But it had been months since you’d last spoken, and you had no intentions of ever seeing him again.
“Why should I help you?” 
He lowers his eyes, looks at the floor. When he answers, his voice is strained. 
“Because I have nowhere else to go.”
The more your eyes adjust in the dim light, the more you can see. Tattered clothes, rain dripping from the tips of his salt-and-pepper curls, his eyes dull. You wonder if he’s trying to make himself look like a kicked puppy, petulant and pathetic, but it doesn’t really seem like something Joel would do.
“Please?” 
He’s in pain, you can read it on his face, and you wonder if it’s because of his injuries, or because of how horrible it must be for him to beg you for help. Historically, it’s always been you in his place, needing something – and if it didn’t serve his interests, he’d leave you in the dust. Joel never made exceptions, no matter the circumstances, despite how long you’d known one another. With that to consider, you have every right to turn him away. You should feel satisfied, seeing him so desperate. You wished you could feel satisfied, but you didn’t.
“Fine.” You let him in. What is it about him that always makes you cave? 
Pulling a chair away from your small kitchen table, he staggers behind you, favoring his right foot, bracing himself on any surface he walks past – the doorframe, the countertop, the table, until he finally lowers himself into the chair.  
You cross the room. It takes most of your bodyweight to shift the couch in the corner of the room away from the vent behind it, and you kneel down. Air conditioning and heat are a thing of the past, but it’s got other purposes now. Using a blade of the knife you always keep handy, you’rable to pry the metal grate away from the wall, to pull out a tin tackle box that you haven’t had to touch in awhile. 
Joel’s still at the table when you return to him, breathing labored, and you flick on the lights. He blinks, his eyes are on you, you can feel the way his body is pinched with nervous energy – like a starving feral cat that’s been trapped in a cage, and still can’t decide if it trusts you yet. As if you’d ever done anything to hurt him. If anything, you should be scared.
“Alright,” you say. “Let me take a look at you.”
His eyes have shifted away from your face, but, too proud to cast them down, he’s glaring at some fixed point behind you, glazing over. He doesn’t want to register what is actually going on. It doesn’t stop you from the task at hand, and you begin to take inventory of his injuries.
“So what happened?” you ask. He’s got a black eye forming, several small cuts all over his face, one of which is slicing through his bottom lip, causing it to swell.
“It’s none of your business,” he quips.
“It’s precisely my business, if you want me to be able to actually help you.” 
“A deal went wrong,” he said. “I was in someone else’s territory. They said rather than turning me into FEDRA, they’d let me off easy.”
“This is being let off easy?” you ask, then cluck your tongue. 
Joel doesn’t answer. 
“And that?” you eye the bump forming on his opposite temple. 
“It’s nothing,” he says, even though, when you graze a thumb over it, he swallows hard. 
“You’re gonna need to be more specific.”
“Got uh, shoved into a brick wall.”
You slide two fingers underneath his chin, using light pressure to tilt his face towards you. “Look at me.” When you’re staring at him like this, studying him closely, you’re forced to acknowledge how handsome he is. Even battered and bruised, it’s the dark, sad eyes, sharp jawline, long lashes that draw you in. He’s hardened by the world he’s been surviving in for twenty years, like everyone is, but he wears it well. You’d never tell him that. 
“Any blurry vision, dizziness?” You aim your flashlight in his eyes, and his pupils constrict. 
“No,” he says. You study him a moment more, and know what to look for. But you don’t find anything of concern.
“Well, I don’t think you have a concussion,” you say. “But I’ll keep an eye on it…..What else happened?” 
“Got me with a knife.” That is what you’ve been the most concerned with since he’s stepped inside. There’s a dark stain blooming on his shirt, just below his left ribcage
“I see,” you say, stepping back. “Take your shirt off.” You open the tin that you left on the table.
It’s full of medical supplies, ones you’d pocketed from the QZ hospital the last few years working there. It’s not easy to sneak them out, nor is it entirely ethical, but you’ve gotten pretty good at it, and now have a decent sized stash built up in case of any emergencies. You’re still deciding if Joel Miller’s well-being is worth the waste of supplies it’s going to be.
When you turn back to him, he has unbuttoned his shirt, but is struggling to shrug it off his right shoulder, where his arm hangs limp at his side. 
“I….” he manages….”I can’t move my arm.”
“Sit up,” you instruct, and he does, which gives you room to slide the rest of his shirt off his shoulder. You immediately notice the obvious deformity. “Looks dislocated.” 
He nods, looking at the floor. “I was trying to defend myself.”
The idea of him, outnumbered and outmaneuvered, a position he’s so rarely in, is unpleasant. He might be an asshole, but because of it, he always comes out on top. There’s something almost comforting about that kind of consistency these days, and it’s tough to stomach the idea that he doesn’t have superpowers, he’s just another person. You’re not sure why you still hold him in such high regard.
You can’t dwell on it. Especially because what’s more pressing is the cut below his ribs, a few inches in length. It’s still bleeding, but not severely. It’s not a stab wound either, even though it’s deeper than you’d expected, but there’s no internal organ damage.
You take a clean cloth and place it over the wound, guiding his left hand overtop it. “You’ll need stitches.” You slide your hand from underneath his, ignoring the warm weight of his touch. “But we need to stop the bleeding. Apply pressure.” He does, and winces.
“You don’t have anything for the pain?” you ask, raising your eyebrow. 
“Front pocket of my shirt,” he says. You fish out a pill. Oxys. You’re not sure how strong they are, and you don’t want to encourage the habit, but this might be a case where he actually needs one. 
There’s a glass of water already sitting on the table, and you grab it, standing over him. Neither of his arms are free to accept the offering.
“Open up.”
He glowers at you like a defiant child. 
“Are you serious?” you tilt your head. “Come on.”
Reluctantly, he opens his mouth, and you tilt your hand to drop the pill in and lift the glass of water to his lips. 
When you’re done with that, it’s time to work on his shoulder. You had done this a few times before, even once to your mother, who had also been a doctor. Med schools didn’t exist anymore, but you didn’t need a degree now to provide care, at least not in this QZ…just experience. And your mother had taught you everything she knew. Before your part of town fell to the virus, she’d even had you reading her old textbooks. So you felt like you were only missing the degree.
You pull up a chair to face him, so close it’s touching the corner of his own, and sit, carefully taking his injured arm and bending it upwards with one of your thumbs in the crease of his elbow, your opposite hand wrapped around his wrist until his forearm is resting against your chest. 
It’s way more intimate than you want it to be, but you don’t have much of a choice. His jaw is set so hard you think he might crack a tooth. “So sometimes, if you relax your muscles enough, you can actually get the shoulder back into place that way.”
You release his wrist and reach out to knead the muscles around the problem area - his chest, his shoulder, in between his shoulder blades. He tilts his head back in the chair, his face pinched. 
“It’s okay,” you say softly. “Just don’t hold your breath, that makes it worse.”
Joel hates this, you can tell. How often does he have to rely on someone so much to help him, that he lets them touch you like you are, lets them see him vulnerable? 
As much as you can, you avoid eye contact, looking down. You didn’t need to see him shirtless before to know that he’s muscular – not perfectly cut, but that isn’t really your thing, anyways. He looks good enough that your eyes are being drawn to places they shouldn’t be, down his torso to the v-lines dipping into the waistband of his jeans. He clears his throat, and you turn to find him watching you. You hope he can’t feel the way your heart is hammering against the back of his hand. 
It’s been a few minutes that you’re trying to get him to relax, but he can’t seem to. You should’ve known that this method wasn’t going to work for him of all people.
“Okay, I’m just going to try to move your arm a bit, see if that’ll work instead.”
He nods.
“Just keep breathing,” you instruct. “In through your nose, out through your mouth.” you slowly guide his elbow forward, still keeping traction. 
He hisses. “Relax,” you soothe. It’s hard, despite the bad blood between you, to resist the urge to be warm, gentle. To reassure. It’s in your nature, it’s part of your job.
Eventually, and with a little patience, you’re able to get the joint to move back into place, and you check to be sure Joel is able to move it on his own. He can, even though it’s sore. You fashion him a sling made out of an ace bandage. 
“You’re probably gonna be a little sore for a while, so take it easy.” It’s probably a useless instruction to give because you know he won’t take it easy. 
He has a sprained ankle, and you wrap it up, elevate it. There’s a near-perfect footprint left behind in dirt on the skin there. Like someone had stomped on his leg hoping to break it. You’re glad they failed.  
Next is the stitches. There’s a few cuts on his body that need one or two, but you start with the big one. The wound has stopped bleeding, so you disinfect it, pull out your tools, and begin working, bent over him. Every time the needle pierces his skin, he tenses. You wonder if the one oxy was enough, or if it hardly touched the pain because he’s using them so often.
The entire time you’re treating him, you’re trying to be as clinical as possible. You’ve got to focus because if you think too much about him, you think about the last interaction you shared, and how pathetic you’d been. And the fact that he’d thought to come to you of all people for this makes your head spin. It’s not supposed to. You aren’t supposed to feel these things for him. You aren’t supposed to owe him anything.
Joel’s fist curls so tightly into itself that his knuckles turn white, fingernails leaving crescents in the skin of his palms. “Kind of feels like you’re making this as painful as possible.”
You smirk slightly. “Don’t give me any ideas.”
He sniffs, and you glance up to see him looking down at you, the ice that had been in his gaze before has thawed.
You squint at him, try to act indifferent, and turn your attention back to the stitches. “Don’t worry, I’m almost done.” 
“Thank fucking-”
“Shhh, you’re distracting me.”
His hand relaxes slightly as you keep working, slow and methodical, silence casting like a spell. 
“Why me?” you ask, finally.
“What?”
“Why did you come here? To me?” you pause. “It’s been forever. You’ve got Tess, right? Couldn’t she help you?”
Joel rubs his aching shoulder. “I didn’t want to scare her,” he answers. “And…I know you’re used to handling this kind of thing.”
“Uh-huh,” you say. “I am.”
One of you should probably acknowledge what had happened. But it won’t be me, you think.
“There,” you tie off the last stitch, and cover the wound with some gauze and a waterproof bandage. “You’ll probably need antibiotics. I’ll try to snag some from the hospital tomorrow.” 
Once you’ve fixed the most pressing issues, you focus on cleaning all the cuts and bruises on his face, his torso, cleaning and wrapping his bloodied knuckles. It’s probably been at least two hours since he arrived when you finally draw away from him, your surgical gloves snapping as you pull them inside-out, and off your hands, discarding them on the table, which is now littered with bloodied gauze, bandage wrappers, and medical supplies. You wish you had more ice packs than just the one for his shoulder and ankle, since he could use them just about everywhere, but it’ll have to do. 
“Could use a drink after all that,” Joel says, looking at his hands, flexing his fingers. 
“Don’t push it,” you answer, scraping the mess off your kitchen table into a bin. It dawns on you that you do have a half-empty bottle of bourbon sitting in your cabinet that’s surprisingly good. “But now that you mention it….” 
He snorts, the closest thing to a laugh you’ve ever heard. 
You pour a few fingers of whiskey into two glasses, sliding one across the table to him. Neither of you clink glasses, but you do eye each other over the rims of your cups as you take the drink in one go.
Joel places his empty on the table. “I should get out of here.”
“In your shape, it might be better to wait for light.” As much as he won’t admit it, you know he’s still weak, not in his right mind, and vulnerable to any FEDRA agents working the streets. “But I have to sleep, I’ve got work in the morning.”
Surprisingly, he doesn’t fight you. 
You curl yourself up on the couch, that is old and worn but still surprisingly comfortable. Joel sits at the table awhile more, and has one more drink. After all the activity of the night, you’re out within minutes. 
Joel drags himself over to the bed, which you’d never offered him directly, but he assumed to take since you were on the couch. He doesn’t think he’ll sleep, but he can’t sit upright in your uncomfortable kitchen chair anymore. Every part of his body aches. Your bed is in the corner, neatly made, even though it’s just threadbare sheets and a blanket. His never is, and he finds it ridiculous you must waste the time at the beginning of your day for something like that.
He sprawls across it, surprised at its comfort. A breeze coming through the open window drifts your curtains to the side, and he catches a glimpse of the full moon. Between the liquor, and the pills, the pain has subsided enough that he’s able to relax a little. The sun will be up soon. He just has to wait…
— — — — — —
The next thing Joel hears is your voice, muffled by the buffer of your front door. He looks at the clock next to your bed, it’s early in the evening. The sunlight trickling through the gaps of your curtains is golden, a slanting orange glow in the corner of the room. The window is closed. Fuck. Did he really sleep all day? He uses his good arm to shield his eyes from the offending light before stretching. 
Sheets on top of him rustle, he must have climbed under them at some point the night before.
It feels like he’s been hit by a freight train, and he groans. Pain drips through him, settles in his shoulder, his side, his head. His mouth is dry, and he sees a full glass of water next to him, two white pills. He couldn’t remember you leaving that morning, but it had to have been you who left them there. Who else would it have been? Without thinking, he indulges. 
There’s a note scrawled on a scrap of paper underneath the pills. He picks it up with his free arm, the other one still wrapped in a sling. 
– Take pain meds
– Ice shoulder, eye, temple, ankle
– Change dressing
– LEAVE
The last word is underlined twice. He exhales, letting his head drop back against the pillows, until it snaps to attention….you’re still outside, but your voice has gotten louder, more animated. You’re talking to someone….no…..you’re raising your voice at someone. He can’t make it out through the door, and for all the bad things he could say based on the nature of your relationship, he knows that you don’t often lose your temper. 
‘I think you should leave,’ he catches the end of what you’re saying and is immediately jolted out of the fog of discomfort, leaving your note on the bedside table.
He’s crosses the room, ignoring the protest of pain from his ankle, hears a man’s voice respond, but just a snippet – ‘stupid fucking bitch’ – and he’s throwing open the door, nearly trampling you, since you’re pressed against the threshold with your arms around your backpack, eyes wide. 
When Joel follows your gaze, he spots a man about your age standing a few feet away, chest puffed out and chin up. 
“Joel,” you say, and he’s taken aback by your tone – relief. He’s never heard you say his name like that. Somewhere, in a small part of his brain he doesn’t want to acknowledge, he thinks he might like to hear you say it again. 
“You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend,” the guy tilts his head back to look up at Joel, giving him a once over, and steps backward in consideration. 
Instead of correcting him, you say nothing. 
“What’s going on here?” Joel asks, and you lower your arms, move your shoulders back, standing up straighter as you turn to look at him.
“Ben was just leaving,” you say. 
“Sounds like a good idea,” Joel answers. His hand instinctively comes to rest on your shoulder – reverent, protective. He knows he’s in no shape to get into a fight right now, but he’s significantly larger than the other man, and figures that alone will be enough of a deterrent.
Ben notices, and nose curls into a snarl, rolling his eyes. “Fine, whatever. He’s like…old enough to be your dad,” he mumbles under his breath.
You don’t answer, just stare with contempt as he retreats down the hallway. Once Ben has turned the corner, you step into your place, Joel’s hand falling from your shoulder. 
“Who was that?”
“Just some guy from work,” you say, sounding uninterested, dropping your backpack onto your kitchen table.
“How often does he–?”
“Let’s not get into it,” you shake your head as you pull open the curtains, sunlight casting warmth all over the room, specks of dust glittering in the air. But he wants to know more. He’s tried to ignore all the suffering that isn’t his own since the world went to shit, but he’s at least aware of how dangerous it is to be a woman, living on her own.
“I didn’t think you’d still be here, did you sleep all day?” 
Joel doesn’t answer.
“You probably needed it.”
You disappear into the bathroom, and Joel sees a rush of light through that door, the creak of a window opening. “I brought the antibiotics, they’re in my bag,” you say when you exit, hands on your hips. “You’re not feeling feverish, are you?”
Joel shakes his head no, and sits back down on the bed. 
“Well that’s good,” you go to the counter. “Hey, if you need to shower here, it’s probably better because I can dress your wound before you go. I was actually thinking today about how you would definitely fuck it up if you tried to do it youself.”
He rolls his eyes at the insult, but answers. “That’s fine.”
You’re making yourself something to eat. He notices a polaroid on your bedside table. It’s two kids – a girl and a younger boy, her arms around him – their lips curled into identical smiles. When he looks closer, he realizes the girl is you. 
Please? My brother is sick, he’s in a lot of pain, you had said, on your knees in front of him, swallowing hard. Your fingers were curled in his belt loops, the cold steel button of his jeans pressed into your chin, so close he thought it might leave a permanent mark. In one of your hands was a wad of credits, only a couple short of what he’d asked you for in exchange for the pills. I’ll do anything you want me to.
Of course he wanted you, how could he not? He wondered if you knew that already, and were just trying to take advantage of his weakness. Or maybe you were just that desperate. It didn’t matter either way. He can’t do it. Not like this, he thought. 
No, is his answer.
He stepped backwards, away and you still tried to cling to him. Sensing his reluctance, you continued to talk.  Joel, whatever you want. I’ll do whatever, please…it’s nothing. Eventually, he slipped from your grasp, and you fell back to your heels. He left you there, and he didn’t look back.
The memory is burned into his brain, and has followed him to sleep more times than he’d be willing to admit. He swallows hard, and you’re standing in front of him with an opened jar of applesauce and a spoon against your lips. “Are you looking through my shit?” you ask. 
“It was sitting out.” 
You snatch the photo from his hand so quickly that one of your nails knicks his thumb, shoving it in your back pocket and jerking your head towards the bathroom. “Hurry, I can’t be up late like last night.”
The shower feels nice, even if the pressure is shit and the water is cold. He still has blood caked under his fingernails that he can’t seem to fully eradicate even after scrubbing them against his palms. He slips back into his jeans when he’s done, and he notices a clean shirt has been left on the bed when he exits. 
“You done?” your voice calls. There’s the sound of a book snapping shut, your weight shifting on the couch. “I want my bed back.”
Joel grunts an affirmation, and you round the corner with the tin of medical supplies from the night before, discarding what you were reading on the foot of the bed. “This’ll take two minutes. Let me see.” Pausing in front of him, you press your fingers, a little experimentally, along his ribs, peering closer to examine your work. “Oh, this looks good. It should heal nicely.”
“It doesn’t feel good.”
“Uh-huh, but it’ll get better. Give it time.”
He sits down while you shimmy out of your flannel shirt. You begin to work, quietly, quickly, and at first, he tries to look away, at the top of the bedside table where you’ve placed a bag of antibiotics and a fresh glass of water. The note that was there earlier, with instructions on how to take care of himself in your absence, that also told him to LEAVE, is gone. He gives in and turns back to you, knelt between his legs like it’s nothing, pressing an adhesive bandage across the wound. 
He’s not sure why he had expected you to be cruel. You should be cruel, he knows that, but you aren’t. Your touch is confident, firm, and surprisingly tender. It must be muscle memory, he thinks, because he’s never known you to be sweet. Maybe he hadn’t been paying close enough attention.
“There,” you say, pulling away. “Now, I’d recommend changing that once a day at least, if you can. Take an antibiotic once a day, and make sure you do the full course. Ice your elbow, eye, ankle, all that every couple hours. Also, you should really use a sling for at least a month-”
“No.” He knows he won’t do any of those things, can’t really afford to between work, life, and resources.
“Suit yourself.”
“I will.”
You don’t scoff or roll your eyes at him or try to convince him why he should, and it’s like a peace offering. I could fight you on this, because I’m smart, but I won’t. It’s everything you’re saying, but you’re silent, and you sit on the edge of your bed a foot or two away, poking your fingers into the laces of your boots, untying them. 
“I’m sorry.”
Joel says it before he can stop himself. He can’t remember the last time he’s said those two words.
You balk at him. “For what?” 
Everything. “Your brother.”
“Oh,” you say, focusing back on your feet, pulling them out of your boots and pressing your thumbs into each arch. You shrug, shake your head.  “Yeah, well….I’m just glad he’s not in pain anymore.” 
“Yeah.”
“...And at least it wasn’t….you know…” The infection. 
He nods, takes a beat.
“I should get going,” Joel says, his hands on his knees. “The next time you need something-” 
“Uh-huh,” you cut him off tersely. “Right.”
“All I’m saying is that I owe you one.”
“You really think I believe that, coming from you?” You snort, shake your head, and reach to pat his leg in a patronizing way, until his hand lands atop your own. He thinks it might make him feel better, to see if your reaction to his touch gives anything away. But it doesn’t. Everything about you is rigid, cool. 
“I’m sorry….about that night,” he decides, purposely changing the subject. “But I don’t make exceptions.”
“Right. Then, I guess I’m a fool for doing this,” you gesture towards him, with your free hand - all the work you’d done. 
Joel shakes his head no, fingers tightening around your hand, clasping it hard. He’s sure, or at least he hopes, somehow, you can see it. That this isn’t a jab, that he means it. 
I’m sorry. 
You look down at where his hand is squeezing yours, and he watches your throat work once. 
“No,” he begins. “You just have every reason to hate me.”
A wistful smile crosses your face, but it’s hard to decipher what it means. To him, you’re still unreadable, even staring right at him. Most people avoid Joel’s eyes at all costs, but not you. You slide your hand out from underneath his, and he thinks for a second you’re going to retaliate. His body is facing yours, his hair is still damp, dripping onto his bare skin. It doesn’t stop you from placing your hands on either one of his shoulders, and learning forward. 
The white tank top you’re wearing clings to every curve of your body, except where it’s shifted off your shoulder, revealing a black bra strap. It’s intoxicating to have you this close. You must be able to hear the way his heart picks up, thuds heavy against his ribs, being so close to him.
“You think I hate you…” you say quietly, voice a low murmur, tilting your head, studying him. “That’s why you want me, isn’t it?”
This is why he’s never liked you. That uncanny ability to stare right through him, crack open the camera, spool out the film. 
“Isn’t it?” you prompt, when all he can offer is silence.
Of course it is. It is always easier when hate is involved. Hate bolds the blurry lines, boils everything down to its simplest point – that’s all that this would be, just two people trying to escape, if only for a little bit. And you, he’s sure, would make it so easy. 
“Yes,” he answers, though he’s not sure if he believes it. In this case, hate is just another medium to channel energy through. Passionate energy. True hate, maybe, would be your indifference. And neither of you are indifferent.
“Well….” you lean forward, your lips are nearly touching. He’s still frozen. “Maybe I do hate you.”
It’s a beat before anything happens, a few seconds of uninterrupted eye contact, your eyes have darkened, pupils wide. 
He pounces on you, ignoring the scream of soreness through his body as he cups both sides of your face, his tongue already scraping on your teeth, swallowing the surprised noise you make, which he finds ridiculous because what did you think was going to happen, talking to him like that?
But you can’t be that shocked, because your arms have tightened around his shoulders, you’re pulling him closer, he’s pulling you closer. A tightrope, about to snap. 
He wraps himself around you protectively, you feel so small there, he’s aware how easily he could break you, but he won’t. Or at least…he’ll try not to. 
You break away first. “Fuck.”
Your lips are full, wet, flush, parted, and you’re panting. He pulls you back against him, and you oblige, much more pliant this time, letting him claim you. Two sets of hands fumbling for purchase. 
“I do want you.”
“Then have me.”
He pulls you onto his lap, still sitting on the edge of the bed, and it’s shameful how easily you move there, settle your weight across his hips. You’re warm, so warm…too warm. His skin pricks.
Your hands thread into his hair and tug, it’s heavenly. He’s not used to being touched like this.. Grinding down, you find him already already rock hard – he has been since you were knelt in front of him cleaning his stitches, but he’d been trying to ignore it – and he moans. “You like that?” 
He hums into your mouth, agreeable. Yes. 
Joel wants to touch you, won’t be satisfied if he can’t, and he tugs at the hem of your shirt. You pull back, just for a split second to pull it over your head. It takes him a moment, but he still remembers how to unclasp a bra with one hand, and you’re bare before him. All he has to do is run a calloused palm up your spine and you’re arching your body closer, until he can mouth at your breasts. 
You sigh as he cups, squeezes, pinches. Latches onto one of your nipples and grazes his teeth over it, watching you closely….your eyes closed, head falling back, murmuring. Yes.
What he wants to do is to lift you up, spin you around, and press your back against the mattress. He wants to spread you open across the bed, put his head between your thighs and lave at you like a man starved. He wants to hear every way you can cry, moan, whimper his name as his tongue works your clit, fingers in your cunt, washing over him. Of course, he’d go gentle at first – not too gentle – but gentle enough, work you up. He wants to dangle you over the ledge, hold you there until you’re begging to be let go. And after you finally come, pulsing around his fingers, he’d wrap your legs around his hips and fuck you into the mattress until you do it again. After the first time, he thinks, it’d be even easier to get you to do it again. And again. Would you face his steely gaze head on, eyes fluttering? Would your nails scrape track marks down his back? Would you stifle a moan by sinking your teeth into the pulse point on his neck? He wants to- no, needs to know.
But he’s weak right now, and can’t do any of that. He’ll settle for what he can get.
Your fingers are twisting the button on his pants. “Come on,” you murmur. 
“You shouldn’t want me,” he warns.
“I know.” But I still do.
Your hand is down his pants, and he shifts his weight backwards to wiggle further out of them. It’s far more hurried than either of you deserve. You don’t even attempt to tease him through his boxers first, your hand wrapping around him in one swift and confident movement. 
Hissing, Joel sees you duck your head, feels the press your lips against his neck, his cock jumping in your grip as you run your thumb over the head, pump him once.
“You’re so big,” your voice is all breathy and soft, the sound of it has him growing even more frantic. He tugs at the loops on the side of your jeans. 
“Take these off.”
Yes. There’s no protest.
It’s torture when you leave his lap, for the brief time you do, his gaze tracing the curve of your ass as you wriggle out of your pants, then your panties, and when your return to him, he holds you closer.
“I knew you’d be so fucking good for me.”
“Did you?” It's playful, breathless, your arms around his neck. The lightest he’s ever heard you. 
You’re wet, already dripping onto him, and he dips a finger between your thighs, sliding it through your slickness, dipping into you just so, enjoying the noises you make before withdrawing. It’s a shame he can’t take his time. He’s too impatient. One of his hands he uses to guide his cock to your cunt, and the other he uses to steady your hips. His head drops to watch himself sink into you. 
The stretch of him inside you makes your toes curl, you’re already pulsing around him and he hasn’t even given you everything.
“Fuck,” Joel whispers your name when he feels you around him, all-encompassing and overwhelming. “So fucking good.”
You’re whining, but it’s unintelligible, your head bobbing into an enthusiastic nod, teeth snagging your lower lip. When he’s reached the hilt, you pause only for a moment before you begin to move on your own accord. Experimental rolls of your hips, not drawing back far at all, keeping him deep inside you, rutting and writhing with no reprieve. He thinks he might come right then and there, it’s been so long, and it’s you. This young, pretty thing who – if this whole fucking world hadn’t gone to shit – wouldn’t have looked twice at him before. It’s just another injustice – that you’re going to let someone like him ruin you.
You begin to bounce on him, dragging yourself along his length. “That’s a good fucking girl,” he groans. “Just like that.” 
“It’s so…fuck, Joel, you feel-”
“I know.” He answers, partially in agreement, and partially to shut you up. If you keep saying his name like that, it’s not going to end well. 
He tries as best as he can to answer your hips with ruts of his own, but it’s sloppy, erratic. The whole thing is, and he wants to curse himself because it really shouldn’t be, just like he shouldn’t be thinking about what he’ll do differently next time. 
It’s the first time he’s been with you, so he doesn’t know what it feels like when you’re getting close, but you’re throbbing and pulsing around him, your breathy pants and soft sighs start sounding more desperate. 
You’re so fucking wet he can hear it, can feel it seeping out, dripping down his balls onto the mattress. He realizes one of his hands is just clenched into a fist, nails digging into his palm, trying his hardest not to come before you do. All he wants is to give you something, a chance to make up for everything that he’s taken.
“More,” you murmur, you don’t even seem to remember, or care, that he’s hurt. That you’d spent hours the night before after he’d been torn apart, putting him back together. “More, please.” 
His lips quirk into a boyish smile, something you’ve never seen before. He likes you like this, begging, desperate, sweet. “Don’t laugh,” but your lips are quirking, too, and you fucking nuzzle against his beard to hide it.
“I’m not - fuck.”
The shower was useless, he’s already sweating again, but so are you, and he trails his tongue across your neck to taste it, then unclenches his fist, moving it between your legs. He takes your clit between his knuckles, circling it carefully, steadily, while his cock keeps hitting the same, soft spot over and over again. 
You can’t get enough. “Harder, Joel…please.”
Of course, he obliges. And he’s lucky, because he doesn’t have to do much more. You slow, legs shaking, and you’re suddenly so tight around him he can’t move. “That’s it, baby, come on, so fucking good…” he would, is, saying anything to feel you. His name is a mewl on your lips, the rubber-band snaps, and you come around him, pressing every part of yourself against the hard line of his torso. He aches, it’s the sweetest torture he’s ever known. 
He knows, because he’s going to fuck you through it, has to, that he will not last any longer. 
“Where?” he pants, and you’re still peaking, gasping, grabbing. 
“Inside me,” you answer. “Please, inside me.”
He’s too lost in the moment to consider the consequences. Doesn’t care about them at all. When he comes, you groan at the feeling of him fucking you full, cunt still squeezing him, not as tightly as before, but still apparent.
The last bit of arousal is still waning, and he leans back to lie on the bed, pulling you with him. You fall to his chest, hands pressing lightly to adjust your position, suddenly aware again of the wound beneath his ribs, the bruises on his shoulder, settling so you’re pressed against his side, his arm still loose around your waist.
Neither of you say anything for a long time, and he notices your legs are trembling. 
We shouldn’t have done that, he wants you to say, as you should. But you show no signs of remorse.
Before all this, when he was a different man, he would’ve helped clean you up after. He would have soothed you in the aftermath; stroked your hair, peppered kisses along your neck, your cheeks, pulled you close so you could fall asleep in his arms. He can’t now, because you’re smart and you’d know what it means, but the guilt gnaws at him. 
When you sit up, pulling your shirt back over your head, sliding on your panties, and walking towards the bathroom, he imagines you think you’re doing him a favor. You are, in a way. Or maybe, you’re resisting the same impulse that he is.
You return a few minutes later, wrapped in a tattered robe, and climb next to him on the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows, then looking down at him. Between the combination of being tired, stiff, and fucked-out, he still hasn’t moved. 
“Don’t you think Tess is worried about where you are?” You bend your knees back and cross your ankles. 
“She knows I can take care of myself.”
Your eyebrow quirks. Can you? Joel turns away and stares up at the water-damaged ceiling panels.
“You should probably go.” 
His head snaps back towards you. He thinks of every person over the last twenty years he’d said the equivalent to after sex, and wonders if it made them feel as nauseous as he does hearing those words from your mouth.
The feeling fades – only a little – when you reach over to press your palm to the side of his face, cupping his cheek, before tenderly moving a piece of damp hair off his forehead, nails scraping against his scalp.
He lets his eyes close just for a beat, before nodding and sitting up. “Thank you,” he says, and he’s not sure what for. All of it, he supposes.
“Uh-huh,” you roll over, reaching to grab your book that had fallen to the floor at some point during your coupling, while he pulls on his clothes, laces up his boots, and takes the antibiotics from your bedside table.
Joel takes one last look at you, already engrossed in your reading, and then walks to the door.
“You know where to find me, if you need anything.”
You look up, nod, and he’s gone.
— — — — — —
part ii
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luna-lovegreat · 5 months
Text
Wait...
It's November. It's November first. Yesterday was October 31st, so October is over. ...it's over. Is it over?
Inktober, artober, whumptober, flufftober, linktober, every tag ending with -tober that's been circulating for the past month... is it over? I don't know why it's just hit me but...
This matters. So I will try to get the message across, even though I'm not the best at it sometimes
Fanartists, fan writers, artists, fic writers, people making comics, every single one of you that has created art for the past month...
Thank you
This is my first October on tumblr. When I started seeing the "tober" tags, seeing the posts from artists with wips, saying they were going to make something every day to a prompt, making masterposts to update with each day, I thought "cool"
But every day this month, I have gotten on here and smiled.
And I don't mean smiled. I mean I smiled at least 20 times every time I got on the app because I saw all the art and fics. I got to see artists/writers connect stories through different day prompts. I saw people having the most brilliant ideas and creativity, flowing from their hands into their posts. I saw artists responding to continuous asks, telling them how amazing they are. I saw artists getting behind, and keeping going.
I saw Free. Beautiful. Emotional. Amazing. Original. Creative. Art.
Every day
I haven't committed to anything of this before, so I can't directly relate to what you guys were thinking and feeling. But I'm willing to guess; I think you probably enjoyed it, because most won't do such a huge project unless they enjoy it. I think you probably saw it as a challenge you were willing to fulfill, and an opportunity to grow and develop your skills.
... but I'm also willing to bet you did it for us. For people like me, who love art, but don't do this specific type, who are in fandoms, who love tracking and watching you art and sending you compliments, who take joy in your work. For the other artists (and writers!) who admire each others styles and love to learn from each other.
If anyone ever tries to tell me that humans are inherently evil again, I will strap them to a chair, pull up these posts and say look. Look at what these people did. Look me in the eyes and tell me these sorts of actions don't come from the most loving hearts. Tell me these people don't want to make others happy, that they aren't inherently good. And I will tell you you're wrong.
I have so much going on, yet somehow it slipped into my life that I was constantly looking at your art for the joy of it without me even noticing.
And how is it possible. That we have such a beautiful community of people here that we will share. And communicate. And exchange compliments. And literally do things and send asks solely for the purpose of making someone smile.
I'm almost crying by now. God I can't express it well enough! But I am so. So. Grateful
You guys brought me a month of joy! You gave headcanons, and art, and stories!
Even yesterday, Halloween, I was blown away. Because I had expected... I didn't expect anything. And then I log on and see people sending happy halloween asks, exchanging doodles of candy, and headcanons and gifs.
And some are still catching up to the schedule or whatever, and that's ok! But at the beginning of this post, when I was simply realizing it was November, I asked myself "is it over?"
Is it over?
... I don't think so. I've seen artists say they're going to continue and expand on a piece they made and especially liked this month. Some people are still continuing, catching up to a voluntary deadline. All those masterposts with your whump/fluff/link/ink tober art? I know many as well as myself will be going through, looking over your posts with smiles, catching up on some things they missed this month... it will continue in the people and artists I didn't know existed before, but now follow. In the skills and growth in creativity! In the community we've grown, and art you've made, and the art to come, at a normal rate like every other month, even if it's not October anymore!
But my artists, writers... thank you so much. I don't know if you guys know how valuable and amazing you are. How incredible it is that you exist! People say it's amazing we exist under a sky of such stars, but how incredible is it that you made a stranger on the internet smile every day! Your life is so. So. Valuable. I can't even express how grateful I am that you exist, that you somehow are selfless enough to share the most beautiful parts of yourself simply to create, and to create joy. Thank you so so much.
(And this applies to all artists, in any fandoms, not just mine. And I'm just as grateful to people who couldn't do something every day, or only one day! You still share your art, you're just as... incredible. You are incredible.)
Okay.
So I'm gonna do this, and if others want to do it in the reblogs that's great! I do not care at all about reblogging or likes, but I want to make the people that have brought me such joy some appreciation- I hope I can bring you even a smidgen of the light you have brought into my life. So I'm gonna tag all the artists/writers I know of/can think of that have done any sort of October challenge, all of you creators that have made me smile. If people wanna want to tag others in the reblogs or replies to spread love that's cool.
(Basically I don't know social customs or anything at all, so if you don't want me to tag or if I was supposed to do something different or something let me know I have no idea what I'm supposed to do)(if I like accidentally tagged someone who isn't an artist/writer or forgot someone I follow... sorry)
@skyward-floored @kikker-oma @adrift-in-thyme @blueskittlesart @zeldaseyebrows @smilesrobotlover @bahbahhh @soso-dedeck @lennsart @arecaceae175 @illcamp @breannasfluff @solarfire-art @26kabeuchi @cathianemelian @truffeart @scribbly-z-raid @uniquevoidflowers
To all the artists and writers out there: thank you so much!!! You are amazing and I'm glad you exist. Your life is precious, and you matter. Thank you so much for sharing your beauty with us, we love you too!!!!!
... yeah. Just want yall to feel loved... because you are. Again, thank you. Thank you so so much to my beautiful creators who create joy as well as art, who keep storytelling alive. Just... thank you.
:)
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fantasyinallforms · 7 months
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Let's talk about this scene. It's one of the most popular, and the writers and actors knew exactly what they were doing when they filmed it. This is going to be a LONG, long post because I will be breaking down and analyzing looks as well as dialog. Don't worry, I will add in a cut! Let's start with the look on Bilbo's face. Specifically, I've slowed the GIF down so you can get a good look at his face.
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Bilbo stated quite clearly to Gandalf the night before this that he was not afraid of Thorin, but he is not so naive as to think that he will stay in Thorin's good graces after this. Hitched breath, sluggish movement, rapid blinking, and a look of dread on his face. This is a funeral march for whatever future might have been brewing over the course of the journey.
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Thorin, by comparison, is almost slow to comprehend. There is doubt about what he is hearing written all over his features. He shakes his head and says "you" like he expected to turn around and see someone else standing there using Bilbo's voice. What I really want to get at is the conversation right after. Because it's always struck me that Thorin and Bilbo are not having the same conversation with each other.
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"I took it as my fourteenth share," followed immediately by "You would steal from me?"
Now, it's, of course, important to note that Thorin is at peak dragon sickness at the moment and not in his right mind. That said, Bilbo stealing something from him was truly the last thing he could have possibly imagined happening. He suspected his kin less than a day ago but never Bilbo. I've said this in a previous deep dive, but the way that the dragon sickness reconciled Thorin's love for Bilbo and the gold was to place them in the same category. You don't expect what is entirely yours to be capable of theft. We're going to skip ahead slightly in the next GIF.
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Ok, so this is where we start to see the conversation diverge. Bilbo says, "Steal from you? No, no. I'm a burglar, but I like to think I'm an honest one." Clearly trying to articulate to Thorin and the entire company that he didn't do this as a betrayal or out of greed. Thorin's response is chilling and very telling.
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In the first GIF, I have no subtitles because I want you to look at his face, not what he's saying. This is the laughter and smile of a madman who just had the last thread tethering him from true madness cut. He descends very quickly from here.
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Now, "You have no claim over me" is a very strong statement. In his mind, the gold is his and bound to him in every way. Bilbo, after this, is desperate. His words are desperate, and his expression is desperate. But what's more heartbreaking is the look in Thorn's eyes. Like the real Thorin is trapped behind those pretty blues, helpless to do anything.
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Then, finally, after all of this, we have the full snap. The final break.
"Throw him from the ramparts."
This single line gives us probably the most heartbreaking look in the entire movie. To me, even more so than Thorin's death. This is the true "end" the final break. Bilbo's head was bent low. He was willing to take the vitriol the hate. He understood where it was coming from and was prepared for it. But those 5 words ended everything. Thorin is gone, and Bilbo knows that now.
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We haven't seen true fear in Bilbo. Not once. The closest we got was when he was about to charge an orc but even that was not fear alone. There was determination and resolve that colored his expression.
That last hollow look in Bilbo's eyes is properly terrified yet if I had to name this GIF I wouldn't name it terror I would name it
Loss.
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Text
I am sick. I realize that this is not breaking news. The definition of chronic illness is being sick. But I am a different kind of sick. Last month I got Covid-19 and that turned into a sinus infection. It's one of those sinus infections that makes one's brain feel like it's full of crumpled tissue paper. It's rather difficult to think through the mess of crinkled paper. So this means all those drafts of posts that I had written are currently not being edited for readability.
The sinus infection also is causing some facial swelling. This is making it hard to read for any sustained length of time. Which means that my coping skill of immersing myself in a fantasy novel is no longer an option.
Listening to Snow Patrol's "Chasing Cars" on repeat was also not a good option. (I realize by saying this I date myself, but what the hell. I'm beyond caring at the mo.)
As the day went on I puttered about, feeling progressively worse. I checked Tumblr a few times throughout the day to look at pretty things. There are always pretty things on Tumblr. Yesterday, I found there was an abundance of increasing pretty gifs from Good Omens season two. I tried to limit my exposure as I have not seen Good Omens season one. I thought about blocking it (I have this thing about spoilers) but they were making my dash so pretty; in particular the one featuring Aziraphale and Crowley together.
I think it was finally @neil-gaiman 's post that broke any reservations that I left. The one in which he apologized for making people have "emotions they weren't expecting." He also apologized for not being able to answer or even read most people's questions in his ask box anymore because he had over 100,000 messages and counting in the two days since Amazon released season two.
I perhaps should add that Mr. Gaiman had been regularly answering fan questions before the second season premiered while not being legally allowed to do any official promotion for the show on which he worked for "the better part of 3 years." At the same time he has been doing the aforementioned he has been reblogging and posting in favor of the rights of writers and actors since the respective strikes began.
Yeah. His post broke any lingering reservations of what I needed to be doing that day.
I got out my aging tablet, plugged it in the charger, and distracted myself until it was charged.
After some necessary technical fiddling, I played the first episode. Then the next. Then when my vision started to go wibbly wobbly, I held the tablet close to my face and kept hitting the play icon. (Do NOT do this. Do as I say, not as I do. Plus there were breaks for walking to and from the fridge, feeding the dog, etc.)
I made it through all of season one and the first episode of season two before my body made me stop.
And everyone, I understand it now:
I understand why, not long after meeting her, my friend (who likes Terry Pratchett novels) lent me her copy of the Good Omens book when she heard that I liked novels written by Neil Gaiman.
I understand why, over the years, she would not let me return the book despite my protestations that I didn't know when I'd be able to properly read it. I started reading it. I still haven't finished reading it, because of life things. I didn't want anything bad to happen to the book while it was in my prolonged care and yet she insisted that I keep it until I had finished reading the book.
I understand why, a few years later, she encouraged me to watch the series adaptation. When I brought up "spoilers" she assured me that it was different enough from the book that I need not really worry: despite being somewhat different from the book, the series still had a similar vibe; was very good; I would enjoy it; and that ultimately I would enjoy both. But I didn’t watch it, because of life things.
I understand why people were disappointed when a global pandemic halted production of season two.
I even understand why, after waiting three years for season two, some people may have had meltdowns when the second season was released during a writer and actor strike (that also consequently leaves the future of season three in question). They were meltdowns brought on by love.
Most of all, I understand the beauty of Crowley and Aziraphale together. I will go down with this ship: the "We’re on Our Side" ship.
So Mr. Gaiman, I use the out of context words of another author ( @cassandraclare) when I say this: Break my heart. Break it to pieces. I give you permission.
(I know it was low hanging fruit, but when will I not use the infamous Julian Blackthorn quote when given an opening? Besides, I completely and totally mean it.)
Of course, I don't understand everything. For who can understand the ineffable plan? Besides, I still have to finish watching season two.
And yes, I am aware that I owe my friend an apology. She was right; as good friends often are. I might even give her an apology dance someday when I am able to do so.
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Transformers Bayverse Autobots x Human reader (Crush and Confession Headcanons Part 2)
"How would they react to themselves crushing on a human? And how would they confess?"
Characters: Bayverse Bumblebee, Sideswipe, Hound, Hot rod, Crosshairs.
A/N: I made a part 2 since I promised it💞, I'm so sorry that this took so long for me to do, my motivation was aft and I had a lot of schoolwork to do😭🤧.
And an anonymous person said that they would love to see more Bee x Reader content. I don't find their ideal bad, so I went along with it, and to the Anon who says that they want more Bee Content. Hope this won't disappoint I didn't know what continuity you wanted, so I went with Bayverse when Bumblebee didn't get back his voice yet, hope you'll understand, and as I said in my other Bay Autobots x Human Reader post, they might seem OOC because I haven't watched the movies for a long time. GIFs do not belong to me credits go to the original creators. (Some of them were found on Google)
This is the first part of this post if you are interested read:
Warnings: I suppose Potential Movie Spoilers from 1-5, Cursing, Mention of Violence/Fighting but nothing too detailed or Gorey, Death, and, Getting in Trouble, Some parts for others may look short-, Teasing/Flirting, Jealousy, Kissing,  Miscommunication or Awkward Situations (On Hot Rod's Part), Injuries, Crack, Fluff, and, Angst.
Bumblebee;
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•When the young scout finds himself gaining a crush on you, he's in denial, but at the same time, he feels willing to ask you out.
•But he'll mostly lean on the part where he refuses to acknowledge his feelings for you.
•The reason why is that, being betrayed and hunted down by humans, and having other disturbing events he doesn't want to remember, gave him slight trust issues.
•You might take might advantage of his status, You won't feel the same way, You might not want to hang out with him anymore, You might hurt him or worse, betray him and leave him to have experimented on by humans who hunt them down...
•But at the same time, Bumblebee feels willing to tell you, his crush on you. He wants to ask Optimus for advice but he knows that he's strict and will forbid it.
•And Primus, Bee doesn't want to receive Prime's disappointed look at him, it would feel horrible. He respected Optimus for years and he has done the same thing.
•However, keeping his feelings to himself won't help. You need to know how he feels, besides if Bee hides his crush well, it won't be a good thing to experience if he ever decides to pretend that he doesn't like you.
•Since he doesn't have his voice with him, Bumblebee would use sweet lovesongs to tell you how he feels. Are you surprised by this? Well, not really, you've seen how a bit obvious his intentions are of courting you.
•Eitherways you're happy with him, and you accept his confession. Making the young bot very happy. If he was in his Mass Displacement or Holoform, he'd carry you and do a little spin out of joy.
•While still being careful to not hurt you. Spending time together is just having fun. For example, if a favorite song of both of yours plays, you both dance cheerfully. And if he's using Holoform or Mass Displacement he'd hold you, he'd say how much he loves you and swears to protect you with all his life. <3
Sideswipe; 
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•To be honest, he's a flirt or a tease, he's a bit of a player just for fun, but with no intentions to hurt someone However, when he gains feelings for someone and their genuine? Sideswipe gets flustered.
•He just gives me those vibes where the cocky character says they'd make their love interest fall for them first, but instead they're the ones who fall for their love interest first-
•Sideswipe still haves his cocky attitude with him, but really when he's with you, it slightly becomes clear how he likes you-
•This mech had so many attempts to ask you out, but it just ends up with him being too shy and flustered to tell you. One time, he got very angry with himself that he tried to demolish the wall-🤦‍♀️
•And you know that it didn't end well for him...Sideswipe dented his pede pretty badly which caused him to have an injury where he couldn't walk properly. He also came up with some scrappy excuse to Ratchet for his actions, but the medic just sighed, already knowing what was going on.
•But, let's just say after some time he finally has the courage to ask you out. While he admits his feelings for you, the bot had a bit of Energon-blush on his faceplates, and he slightly stutters his words.
•Are you shocked? Just like Bumblebee, you're not very surprised. After seeing his attempts to try to tell you his feelings, it looked quite clear of Sideswipe's intentions.
•When you accept his confession, he's more than surprised, he wasn't expecting you to look back, but is very glad that you didn't reject him! Sideswipe would feel embarrassed if you did decline his offer.
•On how you spend time together, is sometimes getting into silly shenanigans. You guys would get into trouble together, something like badly cropped photos of Lennox around the base, and it's almost everywhere-
•Of course, you both are going to be scolded for pranking around the area, you two are in trouble together. But hey, it's better to be with someone you love when you do silly things. <3 (Hopefully Lennox doesn't get too upset from seeing unflattering pictures of him :/)
Hound:
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•Um, now this is unexpected to find out...Hound won't be all shy and flustered or be in so much denial of his emotions for you. He'd just be a bit taken back of himself when he finds out about his crush on you.
•He'd still be the same mech around you though, you don't see him being nervous or flustered when he talks to you. But, he does feel a warm feeling in his spark when you laugh at his jokes.
•Hound is not one for adoring or complimenting one's looks, but seeing you smile or being happy makes him feel secure that you're safe from harm and danger. Also, he's always the first one to save you from getting hurt when he fights his enemies.
•One day, Izabella noticed how protective he is over you. So when she gets the chance to talk to him, she asks Hound.
•"Hey Hound!" She calls out to him, the Green mech then looks at the young girl and says "Oh hey kid, anything ya need?" Hound talks "No not really, but I do have a question!" Izabella answers "Then, go ahead I guess." "Alright, so do you have a crush on (Name)?"
•When Izabella asks him that question, his optics slightly widen. He'd look away for a while then he'd grumble in reply, "Well, maybe." Izabella just then happily encourages him to tell his feelings for you, after hearing Hound's statement.
•As time passes, Hound tells you his confession. He admits he's not the best sparkmate out there for you but is willing to be with you. Are you taken back by this? Hell yeah, you are-
•He was able to keep his composure with you, and now he tells you that he wants to ask you out. You're more than stunned- And when you accept his offer, he'd just let out a small chuckle of relief and would just gently carry you on his servo to hold you, with your permission.
•I'd say how you two spend time together is maybe training to defend yourself or teaching you how to use some weapons or how to create them. On the other hand, you'd just talk to each other.
•While he'd just pulling a few jokes randomly- But you're still happy to chat together, being in company together already makes you both grateful. <3
Hot Rod;
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•Oh, now he is a flustered mess. As much as he tries to be a suave smooth-talking gentlemech, he miserably fails in doing so.
•When he realizes that he gained romantic feelings for you, his playful personality somehow falters. In summary, he becomes such a dork.
•I know that he makes up good pick-up lines to try and woo you, but they end up seeming awkward and strange, and his words would be fumbled in the end.
•Poor Hot Rod is not getting help from anyone. Cogman has a good day, he will just watch things and how they'll play out, he sees this as prime entertainment for himself. Sir Burton is no better, he also sees this as amusement at what's happening to Hot Rod, he'd even hold back and hide his giggles when he sees him try to impress you, but ends up failing.
•Hot Rod starts to act a little out of character, he seems almost shy to even talk to you. And when you ask a simple "Are you ok?" Or "Is everything alright?"
•Ha, he's a bit flustered about how you're concerned for him, he'll even answer nervously, which is only going to make things more complicated for the both of you. 
•Once he gets the opportunity to tell you his feelings, he'll try to be all relaxed and be a gentlemech. But when he confesses, his words end up being stuttered.
•You weren't very stunned to find that out, seeing him act all, nervous and how he tries to get with you, made things clear.
•He feels relieved after you accept his confession, he was all pent-up and stressed with his feelings, so it was hard for him to tell you, but thank Primus it's already done.
•You and Hot Rod would spend time together on fancy dates. When he uses his holoform or Mass Displacement, he'll act like a gentleman. He'd be the type to be the one who'd open the door and treat you like a princess, just for you. Or just have a peaceful picnic date, he'd even get you your favorite flowers as a gift. <3
Crosshairs;
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•Oh my goodness, we have another tsundere- He's in great denial. He'd hide his feelings with his normal cocky act especially when he's with you.
•He pretends to not care about you. But Primus he really does. Crosshairs would even be jealous if you're being a bit too close with another mech beside him. Yep, he's this jealous.
•Since he pretends to not care, he'd just scoff and would be "Whatever." but deep inside he feels jealousy. Especially if you're with Bumblebee or Drift.
•Crosshairs would be the type to show off his skills towards you to get your attention on him while being a flirt.
•He's not a fan of humans, and won't be the best guardian for a human if he was assigned to protect one. However, when it comes to you, he's so protective. It even looks like he has special treatment only for you- Which kinda causes Cade to be annoyed since we saw how he acts on TF4-.
•But again, since he's not accepting the fact that he loves you. The other Autobots would have to be the ones to confess their feelings for you. Another way how he'll confess his crush on you himself is when you face a situation where you almost die.
•And at that moment he'd tell you right there how he likes no, loves you. He then promises to be stronger to protect you. Despite his teasing nature, he can be sweet.
•You're very astounded by his confession and how at times he can be, thoughtful. But you feel contented with his confession and you accept. It caused Crosshairs to be shocked but he'd hide it by with flirting you and being a teasing mech. But really, he feels good that you like him as well.
•When you both have free time together, Crosshairs would drive you around while he lets you play your favorite music. Or you two would annoy Drift- It's a thing you've both done since you were friends.
•He doesn't admit but, he loves it when you guys cuddle. Though, he'd be so clingy and would give you lots of kisses. And no he does not give a single scrap if he has to do something, this mech not leaving you. What an afthole, but he's yours. <3
@t-annuki @justabigass-simp @blackgirlfandomwriter
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bradtomlovesya · 1 year
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Choices. 2
Two: Tick Tock
Peter Parker x reader series
Summary: Everybody forgot who Peter Parker was. All his world tunerd grey until he met you and you started dating. It could have been perfect if it wasn't for the fact that MJ comes back and, surprise! She remembers EVERYTHING.
Warnings: Pure Angst!, Peter being kinda an idiot, mentions of cheating, swearing.
w/c: 2.3k +
a/n: I changed the name of the chapters and now I am happier with them. Hope you like them and enjoy this chapter! As always, coments, reblogs and likes are completely appreaciated. Thank you so much for all the love and suppor this series is having. I will be forever grateful! ❤️. Gif not mine.
Series Masterlist
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Peter left your apartment that night and his last words were:
"I'm going to fix it, I promise."
He never answered yes or no. He never gave you a concrete answer as to who he wanted to be with, her or you.
The truth is, even Peter didn't know. It was true that he loved you. But it was also true that seeing MJ remember him made his heart beat a mile a minute.
Peter Parker was many things, but it was always clear to him that he had to do the right thing. He always (or at least almost always) knew it was the right thing to do. And, if he didn't, his Aunt May was there to advise him and tell him what to do.
But now May wasn't there. Maybe that's why it was so hard for him to give up on MJ. They were both the only women he had loved in a long time and he lost them on the same day. Having Michelle's memory back made him feel like he had at least gotten one of them back.
However, Parker didn't know if he needed MJ in his life. After all, he already had a life with you. HAD in the past tense. Because obviously you broke up with him after you saw him kissing his ex-girlfriend at the carnival.
Ned, on the other hand, still didn't remember him. And he probably never would again. MJ was a mere pure stroke of luck and the brown-haired boy didn't know if it was a blessing from the universe or if he just wanted to taunt him by putting him in a situation no one wants to be in.
Although he still wasn't sure if he would be able to forgive him for what he did. The brown-eyed man had to make a decision. Go back to MJ and bring his past with him into his present or try with you and continue with his present into the future.
Peter thought it best to go out on patrol and clear his head in the cool night air. That's when he decided he should give you the time you asked for and go out with MJ. Not as a couple, at least for now or maybe never, but as friends who haven't seen each other in a long time and need to unwind from everything that has happened in their lives.
You managed to catch a glimpse of them on one of their outings. They were walking around campus while eating a slice of pizza and laughing about God knows what.
Your heart sank even deeper into your chest. You were already a mess trying to live without him. Now you had to watch him be happy with her too?
Right there you felt selfish. You didn't want Peter to laugh with her. You wanted him to laugh with you.
The aforementioned wiped the corner of MJ's mouth with a napkin and a tear slid down your cheek as you thought of the many times he did the same for you.
'She's not me' you repeated to yourself. But even then you couldn't stop the hole growing in your chest at catastrophic speeds.
They were there, laughing and eating while you were miserable, and yet you couldn't hate Peter for loving her.  In spite of everything, you loved him.
Love is a double-edged sword.
Two days later you were watching Netflix in your bedroom when your phone vibrated on the coffee table. The screen was lit up with the word 'Peter♡' and your breath caught in your lungs. Should you answer it? your heart asked. Should you ignore it? your brain asked.
The heart won the battle this time. You answered the call.
"H-" you cleared your throat. You wanted to sound as neutral as possible. "Hello?"
"Y/n..." his voice was barely a whisper. "I didn't know if you were going to answer" his voice was so low that you had to turn up the volume as high as it would go and give him your full attention.
"What's wrong?" you asked.
"Nee-" he coughed. "I need your help...please" a faint whimper was heard from his side of the line and that was enough to worry you. Something wasn't right.
"Peter? Is everything all right? What's wrong?" your voice was now one of concern. You've never turned your back on those you love and care about, you weren't about to start now.
"I... I'm kind of hurt" he breathed again and your breath hitched. "It's not serious but-" he paused. "I can't get up." He confessed.
"Where are you?" you got up from the small couch to look for your shoes. "Peter?" You worried about his breathing on the other end of the line.
"In my apartment" he grunted in pain. "Shit."
"I'm on my way" you hung up the call and grabbed your keys. You still kept your copy of the ones to his apartment so getting inside it wasn't a problem.
You leave your keys on the plate on the counter and remove your shoes as quickly as you can before running to her room.
"Peter?" you ask when you don't see him and pause to scan his room.
"Here!" he groans. He made too much force when he spoke so you could hear him from the bathroom.
You walk in and see him lying in the unfilled bathtub. He was dressed in nothing but his boxers but it didn't bother you. It's not like you haven't seen him like this before.
"I tried to take a shower but I slipped and I don't have the strength or energy to get up" he smiles apologetically in your direction.
"I see..." you walk over and see his suit on the floor. "Why a shower?" you ask.
"The guy I stopped was doing weird experiments and threw some weird substance at me. I preferred not to take any chances and showered as soon as I got home" he clarified.
"Let me help you" you hold his arms and help him stand up.
Peter felt more than embarrassed at that moment. Because of what he had told you and because you were too good to say no to him when he needed help.
"Thank you" he sits on his bed and takes the towel you offer him so he can dry off.
"Is the medicine cabinet in the same place?" you ask. It's been a little over two weeks since you've been in his apartment.
Having him so close and yet so far away hurts like a million needles pricking your heart. But none of this was your fault, it was his and he's the one who should fix it. Even though you saw him so happy with MJ, you still had hope that he was going to choose you and come back to you.
It's okay to dream, isn't it?
You bandage his wounds after cleaning them and turn around so he can put on some boxers and gym shorts with a little privacy. You didn't leave the room because you were afraid he would fall while doing it so turning around was enough.
"Thank you for coming. I know I don't deserve it" he mumbles with his eyes on you as you turn to look at him.
"It's true... Maybe you don't deserve it coming from me" you shrug. "But I can't help but help the people I love.
'People I love' Peter's eyes sparkled at that phrase. You still loved him, that was more than enough.
"I really appreciate it" He smiles and watches you sit next to him on the bed.
"Why didn't you call MJ?" you ask abruptly. It was a question you asked yourself since he called you for help.
"She's busy, she couldn't come." He said without thinking.
And then reality hits you in the face and chills you like a bucket of cold water.
"So I was your second choice just because she couldn't" Your voice is serious. You just remembered how everything went down the drain in one night.
"What? No?" he frowns. "That's not what I wanted-"
"Save your excuses. I don't want to hear them," you stand up and look at him seriously. "You're already bandaged and in your bed. Next time, don't call me."
"Y/n. Please" he tries to get up but his side hurts "That's not what I meant I promise."
"Your promises don't mean anything to me anymore" you feel a lump in your throat. You are on the verge of tears. "You know one of the things that hurts me the most, Peter?"
"I-" he sighs and shakes his head. He wants to let you finish your point.
"You were indeed my first love, my first time, my first everything" the tears build up in your eyes but you're determined not to let them out. "And you didn't think about that before you stuck your tongue in her mouth. I bet your heart never beat for me like it does for her."
The brown-eyed man was about to say something until you both hear the sound of someone knocking at the door you watch Peter get up and walk to open it.
You walk behind him only because you know it's time to go. You shouldn't have come in the first place.
When Peter opens the door, the person behind it is MJ.
"You should give me a copy of the key" she laughs lightly.
"Keep mine" you put on your shoes and grab your purse. You walk over to the plate where you left them before and put them in her hand. "I won't be needing them anymore" you walk out of the apartment and she is both surprised and confused.
Another two weeks passed. Peter felt empty again. Just like he felt when he lost MJ and Ned in the first place but worse because not only had he lost you. He had let you down completely.
Spiderman became clumsy on his nightly patrols, he didn't pay attention and classes and even less when MJ talked to him. Even though he knew she was just trying to make him feel better.
"Peter?" she asks. "Peter!" She snaps her fingers in front of his face and sighs heavily.
"Yes?" He looks at you but his gaze is still lost.
"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" she asks.
"How could I not when she's right here" he shows you his pencil.
"What do you mean right here?" MJ asks with a frown.
"Yes, it's right here. She's the one who gave me this pencil" he sighs. "And she's over there too" he points to the girl sitting a couple of tables away from where they were sitting. "That girl has her same color hair" he looks at his fingers "but not just over there" he points to a boy with a can in his hand. "That boy is drinking his favorite drink." He snorts. "Everything in this damn library reminds me of her."
"Why haven't you tried talking to her then?" he shrugs.
"Because I'm lousy with words, MJ. Whenever I try to tell her something, she ends up misunderstanding it because it was me in the first place who didn't know how to use the right words" he runs his hands over his face.
"Then don't talk to her" she shrugs.
The brown-haired boy looks at her with a frown. "That's supposed to solve my problems? Thanks MJ." She rolls her eyes.
"Stop your sarcasm," the chestnut-haired girl points
Her finger at him. "I mean maybe I should be the one to talk to her." He sighs. "I shouldn't have kissed you, Peter. I didn't know you had a girlfriend."
"MJ..." Peter sighs and takes her hand. "I was the one who shouldn't have kissed you having a girlfriend. It wasn't your fault, it was mine." He assures her. "I'm the one who should fix this."
Michelle nods and looks to her left. There you were. Watching as Peter held her hand just as he held yours. You shouldn't care, it's been a month since you and Parker broke up but it still hurts like hell.
MJ saw you pull back quickly before she could separate her hands from Peter's. "At least she knows you and I aren't dating?" she asks and Peter denies.
"No, I've tried to tell her but me and my big mouth always say something else and I hurt her more than I manage to fix it." He sighs heavily.
"What? She still thinks that you and I...?" MJ pauses.
"Yup." Peter nods and fixes his gaze on the floor.
"Peter... that's not fair" he sighs and shakes his head.
Parker knows. He knows it's not fair but he already said it, he's not good with words.
"Everything I say ends up being misinterpreted and it's my fault!" He covers his face with his hands. "Help, MJ. Please."
"And if instead of using words you take action?" proposes the brunette.
"What do you mean by that?" The boy raises an eyebrow. "You'll have to be more specific."
"God... you're so smart but so dumb at the same time, how is that possible?" She rolls her eyes. "You have to do something for her, something she can't refuse or misunderstand, and then explain everything to her, Peter. Be honest."
"You're right," he nods and sighs. "No more secrets."
Peter was already planning something in his mind. Something that would make you either forgive him or wish you never saw him again. That was up to you.
However, He had to move and plan a little faster. Your heart still loved him, true, but it wasn't closed to moving on and rejecting Parker altogether.
Austin, a classmate who asked you out before you and Peter dated, found out about your breakup with him and was determined not to pass up the opportunity that was once taken away from him.
Tick tock, Peter. Your time is running out.
~~~♡♥︎♡~~~
Peter Parker Tags:
@raajali3 @fangirling-galore @powerpuffluuvv @itszulli @hallecarey1 @xoxokiaraaxoxo @kaitieskidmore1 @lnmp89 @pure-a-tea @vixparker @army24--7 @spiderydreams00 @my-name-duh @nani-2305
Choices' Tags
@parkerpeterparker2004 @afro-hispwriter @sakaki-chaaaaannn @insertsupercoolusernamehere @local-mr-frog @diasnohibng @stilesismyhusbandforever-blog @tombolland1996 @ellesalazar @cursedandromedablack @ifilwtmfc @newtmaskilledme @sweetenertea @wonieeee @jackiehollanderr @parkthothwa8 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @itsmadamehydra @luvherfairy @reneinii @pauuuus @rootbeerfaygo @janoskiansecondsofdirection @bubble-blu
If your username is lined, tumblr didn't let me tag you :(.
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buckleyx · 1 year
Note
hi, babes! i was wondering if you could possibly write a Buck imagine where the reader has awful parents, and is just comforting ? sorry if not! i’m also sorry if you’ve already gotten this request, my asks don’t send a lot - 🪐
FIX THE FAMILY E.B
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the gif i used is not mine! all credit goes to the owner!
Author’s note: Hiya love! Sorry it took a while but here u go :)) I hope it's a bit what you had in mind. I love soft buck :(
Evan Buckley x gender!neutral reader
Summary: Your sister started a project to 'fix the family' and you're not sure how to feel about it.
Warnings: mentions of bad parenting + bad upbringing and toxic family relationships but comforting buck <33
masterlist
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"Not again." You sighed, cursing under your breath as you saw your screen lid up. A blue text message covered the happy lock screen picture of you and Buck. You didn't even have to guess to know who it was from. Your sister had been bugging you all night about a family dinner. You had already politely declined 3 times but she kept pushing. You didn't blame her, your upbringing was a complete different story then hers.
She still had contact with your parents, even visits them every few weeks and she made an unofficial promise to 'try and fix the family.' As much how you despised the idea you couldn't fully blame her for trying. She was the youngest and the most successful and very clear the favorite.
You love LA, your life is here now and you don't feel the need to fix anything. You are happy where you are. You build something here, something personal and safe and your not ready to see it all fall apart again.
"Everything alright?" Buck asked, his head peaking through the door. You sighed, gently throwing your phone on the countertop. Buck's brows knitted together as he slowly made his way over to you. "Do you wanna talk about it?"
Without saying a word, you tiredly leaned your head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around your waist, giving a soft kiss against your temple. "I don't know." You sighed. "It's my parents."
Buck knew you didn't have a fantastic relationship with them but the topic didn't come out often. Just like his parents. You had talked about your shared struggles but you both didn't like unnecessary mentioning it since it was such a heavy subject to touch for the both of you. You both just didn't wanna push anything. But when it did, when the topic came up in conversation, you both were as supportive as ever. Buck especially, you couldn't ask for anyone better in your life then him.
"I'm sorry to hear that." He comforted, brushing his fingers against your cheek. "It's fine." You brushed off. "My sister just thinks she can magically fix the family. I'm surprised they even let her try."
"Maybe they don't know."
"Yeah probably. I haven't seen them in so long. Why now? Why suddenly does she wants to change things now?"
"Have you asked her?"
"No not yet." You admitted, playing with his hair. "Last time I talked to them was Christmas eve."
Buck thought back at the memory and gave you a kind sympathetic smile as he recalled how the evening ended. It was a messy day full of nasty remarks and bitchy comments. First they didn't approve of your job, then of your boyfriend and then they felt the need to break everything else in your life apart. The list could go on forever. It was just horrible. Your brows knitted together as you tried your best to block out the memory. A sigh left buck's lips, he hated seeing you like this. He hated that he couldn't do more to help you. "They treated you afwul, y/n. It's okay not to forgive them."
"I know."
"I didn't forgive my parents." He admitted. "And I honestly don't think I ever will."
"If you want to contact them again, wait until your ready and when you truly want it for yourself. Not because someone forced you to. The same happend to me, I wasn't ready and it turned out into a big big mess." You fell quiet for a second, Buck was right but you had to take a moment to let the thoughts in your mind process everything. You went over every scenario about how that reunion could go before confirming that it wasn't time yet. You weren't ready. And that's okay. Maybe you'll never be ready and that's okay too.
You brushed away some of Buck's hair that had fallen in his face, your hand rested on his cheek before you leaned in and gave him a soft kiss. "Thank you." You said softly before giving him another kiss. The buckley gave you kind smile. "Come on. I'll make you some dinner. It It will help you clear your head."
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spacesurfing · 2 years
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Don't Fuck With The General
Anakin Skywalker x Reader Smut
Summary: Anakin loves disobeying orders and disrespecting his higher-ups. But he certainly hates when you give him a taste of his own, vulgar medicine.
Warnings: filthy filthy SMUT, p in v, inappropriate use of the force???, chokinggggg, degradation, mentions of exhibitionism, praise kink, oral (m!receiving), hair pulling, edging, use of the word cunt (I think some people don't like that word), masochism?
A/n: I know the title isn't really a good one but like, I don't have much brain left today.
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GIF NOT MINE!!
•--•
Anakin was stubborn and confident, so confident that he was one shove away from crossing the thin line between confident and cocky. But you never minded, you actually liked cocky men. And you liked bringing out that side of Anakin, you loved being that push to force him to the other side of that thin line.
And right now, staring up at Anakin while you lay completely naked under him with a smirk plastered on your face, you never loved it more. Anakin was also naked as the day he was born, though the metal hand didn't exactly come out with him. But needless to say, his face contorted with anger. His blue eyes flickered between a still ocean and roaring waves, dominance consuming you whole. Yet you still had a shit eating grin on your face.
"What's wrong Ani?" you asked, looking up at him with the most faked innocence the galaxy had ever seen. And he knew it.
Anakin pressed his hard-on into your thigh with a growl, "You know exactly what the fuck is 'wrong'."
The smile vanished from your face as his hand reached up, fingers curling around your throat. He applied delicious pressure that made you breathe out a groan. His head tilted as he watched your face, "You disrespect me in front of my men, you never do anything that you're told, you're off the rails whenever I am directing the missions."
Anakin's shifted his hips, his thick length pressing against your cunt in the most teasing manner. You attempted to grind up into him, your hips bucking subconsciously. But as soon as you whimpered out at the pressure against your clit, you found another pressure in the way that the force kept your hips against the soft sheets.
"All you want is my attention, don't you? As much as you love being praised, you seem to enjoy being bad. Is that what you want me to call you? Cause that's exactly what you are, a bad girl," he said, face inching closer at the last words, grip on your neck tightening a bit more to make you sputter.
The way you were choking for air couldn't have been hot - it wasn't to you, but you soon felt Anakin's cock twitch against you, eliciting a moan out of your mouth. You slick was still dripping onto his dormant member, the force keeping you still, his hand keeping you silent, and his gorgeous face keeping you enticed.
He loosened up a bit on you, index finger stroking the side of your neck with a sweet scrape of his nail before he would trail up to stroke his finger back down. "I'll give you what you need. I'll give you my cock, filthy thing. Is that what you want?"
You smirked, you had everything that you wanted from him. Wrapped around your finger like a ring. Though, you didn't have him on a tight leash - he still had full reign over you, but you knew that he was exactly where you wanted him. At least you thought.
Anakin reached his metal hand between your hot bodies, wrapping it around the base of his length as he guided it towards your wetness. Pushing the tip of his thick cock in, you let a strangled moan slip out of your mouth. He felt so incredibly good already, you had needed him worse than you thought.
Anakin looked up at you, smirking in a way that made goosebumps spread out over your skin. He was so fucking perfect, handsome in every way possible, his hair flowing off his head in dirty, golden locks. His teeth were showing, incisors sharp in the dim light.
"Haven't even put half of it in you and you're already making such sweet noises," he mocked you while chuckling, "Maybe I should've just taken you right in front of my men. If you need a cock in you so bad, maybe I'll bend you right over the holotable and let all my ARC Troopers watch your eyes roll back into that pretty head of yours."
You clenched around the head of his cock, making him inch into you further. He shook his head with a shit-eating grin, "Always knew you were a fucking slut."
His eyes locked with yours again and you croaked, "I- I just wanna show them how good the General- nhh.. is at- at fucking me." You could barely speak while he was filling you to the brim, bottoming out completely in you. The way he filled you made your toes curl, and you could've sworn you felt him all the way in your throat.
Anakin's hand tightened around your throat once again. "I'm sure they already know how good I fuck you," he recoiled his hips till he was barely inside of you, "Especially when you're always giving me fuck-me eyes. They all know that their little medic is a fucking slut for the General."
And with that, Anakin's hips met your own faster than you could process the way his words created sparks in your belly. You reached up to cup your hand over your mouth, a noise that was far from something you'd ever made bleeding through the cracks of your fingers. But your daring Jedi Knight had no patience for you.
Taking his hand from your throat, he snatched your hand and pinned it above your head, snatching up the other to join it. Anakin was thrusting into you like he'd been waiting to fuck you for years. And with the way the head of his cock pounded into you, he could've easily convinced you that he'd never touched you before this. You had completely lost your mind.
You felt your thoughts melt from your head, but your mouth still babbled senselessly, "Fuck- 'm your slu- nhaa! Yo- Your slut, Ani!"
Your stuttering and the noises slipping from your puffed lips amused Anakin beyond keeping a straight face. He practically laughed in your face at the state you were in, snickering as he drilled into you, "Only mine, Sweetheart. What a good girl, knowing your place. 'Wanna just keep you forever, my best girl. My pretty little slut."
You'd never felt your release creep up like this, but you whined, "Ani- I- think 'mm gonna cum."
And with eyes of a killer, he pulled out of you and used his flesh hand to slap you. It was soft, at least as soft as he could be. Squishing your cheeks together, his nose scrunched as he sneered at you like a playground bully.
"You think you get to cum just like that? You think you have it all fucking figured out. Obviously there's not a single thought in that head though, I'm not your bitch," he hissed, metal hand sifting through your hair before grabbing a fistful near the base of your scalp, pulling your head up like a puppet.
Pulling you to sit up, he backed off the bed, patting his thigh. You knew that signal, and it made you wanna cry in that moment.
You crawled closer, glancing at his weeping cock, glossed over with your slick, tip a pretty shade of pink. You'd be lying if you were to say you didn't want it in your mouth though...
"You know who's a bitch? You. My bitch. And you're a good little bitch, aren't you?"
You nodded, staring up at him with doe eyes. He looked so hot when he was talking to you like he'd never kissed every inch of your skin in candlelight, like he'd never cradled you in his arms whispering sweet nothings into your ears. You reached your hands up to hold the front of his hips, face nearing his length.
"Yeah you are. Now be a good little slut and suck my cock," he resumed the hold on your hair as he passively kept it there. The sensation stayed as you moved.
Your dominant hand came to grip the base of his cock, tongue peeking out to lick at the tip. It twitched at your movement, making you giggle as you open-mouth kissed it, capturing precum on your lips and eagerly licking it off. You were wasting time though - time that was equal to Anakin's patience. And time that was equal to how long you were gonna sit there on the verge of orgasm.
Your lips wrapped softly around the girth of him, tongue pressed against the underside. Anakin groaned with a small buck of his hips, slipping further into your mouth.
Your eyes locked with his blue ones. But all you saw was the distant color blurred by his blown black pupils. He was scary, not to you, but you knew he looked terrifying. If anyone had to look at him like this, the lust being anger, you'd fear for their life. Because the look he was giving you was one that spoke to you; Anakin wanted to eat you alive. He consumed every small wet noise you made as you tasted yourself on his cock, returning it with grunt or a groan. He truly wanted you to be all his.
His hand that was once a silhouette of sensation on your head became alive, tugging at your hair to pull you off, and pushing you back down. Further, he wanted you further. Oh you knew exactly what he wanted.
As he sped up his encouraging movement, he finally pushed you till the tip of his member hit the back of your throat and you gagged, pulling halfway off of him, leaving saliva in your wake. He gleamed in the moonlight shed through curtains, a single vein near the side glowing in your spit. Anakin fucking loved it.
"So pretty, gagging on my cock, fuck. Prettiest thing I've ever seen; all mine," he grumbled out.
He shoved you back down his length after you recovered, moaning out your name while he listened to you soft gag on him. Breathing in and out through your noise, you hollowed your cheeks in an attempt to suck him like this. And it worked. Better than you thought.
Anakin pulled you off in a hurried manner, not enough time to warn you before his length twitch under your fingers and cum spilled over your face. You didn't realize how your clit throbbed till his seed decorated you in white.
Swiping some off your eyelid, you popped the finger in your mouth, finally being able to open your eyes. And you were mesmerized by the painted picture in front of you.
Anakin's chest heaved, core tightened while his abs stood more defined. Your fingers still curled around the base of his cock, his metal hand tangled in your hair and his other arm limp. His face was perfect, in a post orgasmic haze his mouth formed a small 'o' shape, eyes half lidded.
His limp arm reached up, hand caressing your face, swiping cum across your cheek with his thumb. The crooked smirk that stood on him made you nuzzle against his palm. He looked so sweet now, so far from what he was and what he was to come.
"On your hands and knees, Princess."
And you obeyed. You always obeyed when you were this far in, this close to cumming in whatever way possible.
Anakin snuck in behind you, hands grasping your ass before he landed a smack to the left cheek, watching the fat ripple, "Perfect ass. Perfect princess too," he leaned over you with his chest now pressed against tour curved back, lips kissing your earlobe, "Gonna fuck the shit out of my pretty princess, face still covered with my cum. Dirty slut."
Your time to respond was cut short when he pushed himself back into you. You could barely relax enough for him to slip in, clenching around his cock repetitively as he breached you. You were well on the verge of tears, your orgasm feeling so close yet so far from your body.
"Ani," you whined, pushing your face into the mattress as you attempted to stop yourself from going insane with the pressure of him.
He slapped your ass again, massaging the flesh with a tight grip. You had no clue how he wasn't overstimulated, barely being able to keep your walls from pulsing around this cock. Yet, through your body's reaction to the intrusion, his hips started to move. Thrusting in and out of you, your moans were muffled by your mattress.
"Yeah? Does my cock feel good?" Anakin asked with a cocky tone.
You practically screamed into your sheets as his hips swiveled in a way that made your gut clench. Your fingers moved on their own accord, curling around your bedding.
"Fuck, yes! Your cock feels so good Ani," you whined loud enough for him to hear clearly, "Please let me cum, 'just wanna cum, please!"
You weren't close. You certainly felt like you were, but your head was so far in space that you felt on the brink since the moment he started touching you again. He knew you're weren't close, he knew about the feeling of a wall between you and your release was in the pit of your stomach.
Anakin let his hand snake under your body, pulling your chest towards him as he started playing with your clit. And like the touch of a wizard, he ruined you.
Then you felt it. And you felt it come fast. Or, well, cum fast.
The dam broke, and your juices flooded through. Your walls clenched around him like he was meant to stay there forever, a perfect piece to the puzzle of your body. You felt your thighs grow wet and Anakin grunted, giving you some time to breathe before cumming deep inside of you without warning.
You felt his chest to your back, forehead resting on the valley between your shoulder blades. If felt intimate, sweet. It was something that made you remember that you loved Anakin Skywalker. And you loved him a lot. He was the perfect human in your eyes. The perfect everything to you.
He finally pulled out of you, laying down beside your body as you huffed out quiet breaths, turning over to look at him. He was smiling wide, staring at you like you were the only thing he had ever loved. You were sure you weren't, but you knew he kept his attachments narrowed down to few things. He had to. And one of those things were you. He loved you.
Anakin's hand caressed your face, stroking a finger across your cheek and letting you settle down. Once on your side, he pulled you into him, his fingers diving into your hair as he rubbed your scalp.
"I lied," he said with a laugh, "you're a really good girl."
You giggled and shook your head playfully, "Well, I think I deserve a reward then."
He pulled you away from him. The warmth still radiated from his body like he was a heater. How did this man ever exist on Tatooine being this hot?
"And what would that be?"
You hummed, "A nice bath."
•--•
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iamadequate1 · 2 months
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Don't Stream on Max
Ragging on Max is fun, isn't it? This is going to be long since I brought tables. Here's a kiss GIF to get people's attention!
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Let's be real: if HBO/Max has a cancellation rate this high and is the only streamer with a cancellation rate approaching these numbers, we're long past the point where fingers can be pointed at the shows individually, trying to invent unique "failures" in each one separately... except for Zaslav's baby, The Idol, that show deserved it. If there is an oddity like this, deduce down the common factor, and the common factor here in all these "failures" is WBD/HBO/Max. WBD does not know how to run a streaming business, and yet, it is charging consumers the highest rates in the industry.
✨Cancel Max now✨
Remember that WBD sponsored article from Vulture? Remember?? Specifically...
And then there was the final strike against last month’s canceled trio of titles: their production costs. As noted earlier, all three series went into development circa 2019-2020, at a time when competition for hot new shows was beyond intense. Streamers were handing out ridiculous deals in order to land coveted projects and agreeing to license fees and production budgets that were usually only reserved for big, established blockbuster hits. So a series like Rap Sh!t, which had the feel of an indie production and used iPhones to tell its story, ended up costing Max twice as much to license as HBO’s critically loved, niche comedy Somebody Somewhere, per a source familiar with show budgets. Our Flag Means Death, the same sources say, had a license fee three times that of Somebody.
First of all, they picked the smallest show they could in order to justify ~scary~ words like "twice" and "three times" without any danger of being specific, but they also picked a show that was "renewed" and I can find no evidence it's being worked on anymore!
But 2019-2020, let's discuss that. The merger was finalized April 8, 2022, and Max, the illicit love baby between Discovery+ and HBO Max, launched on May 23, 2023. On its face, Max has the second largest sticker price of streamers, and that sticker price is mostly built from that HBO prestige, but I'll build to that...
Let's say Zaslav had to let 2022 roll, so let's look at 2023, shall we? HBO/Max had 11 shows debut in 2023.
Velma (Max - renewed + lol)
The Last of Us (HBO - renewed)
Fired on Mars (Max - Purgatory)
Gremlins: Secrets of the Mogwai (Max - Renewed)
Clone High (Max - Purgatory as new season is coming in)
The Idol (HBO - cancelled)
Warrior (Max - cancelled + moved to Netflix)
Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake (Max - renewed)
Young Love (Max - Purgatory)
Scavengers Reign (Max - Purgatory)
Bookie (Max - Renewed)
Wow! Not even half confirmed renewed, and one of the success stories is Velma. HBO also only debuted two series that year: TLOU was in development since 2020, but The Idol was still in early stages when Zaslav wandered in. Since he didn't put a stop to it, The Idol remains Zaslav's sole contribution to HBO, especially since according to Wikipedia, the show went under a "drastic" overhaul in April 2022, the month of the merger.
There is an article going around citing that Max has a 26.9% cancellation rate, and that seems.... off? It is still far higher than every other streamer, but it's still lower than what's expected from what we've seen of WBD/Max. If you look at Max's original programming list and HBO's original programming list, something's not adding up. I tried to follow the source back, but it wanted money, so I'll do it myself! I suspect that the glut of mindless reality shows, exploitative docuseries, and miniseries really brought that percentage down.
I'm just going to look at the cancellation of actual scripted shows, ignoring miniseries (that's just a big movie on purpose and no concern about #FinishOurStories), series that haven't aired an episode yet, non-English series (most don't have Wikipedia entries and are a messier thing to research), and co-productions (as Anne with an E showed, sometimes the partner can be responsible for cancellations -- this unfortunately leaves off series like Gentleman Jack). I also limited myself to series that had/about to have a season debut after the merger date (April 8, 2022).
(I've got the 'tism, and I enjoy making spreadsheets.)
Drama:
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Comedy:
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Anthology:
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Continuation:
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Adult Animation:
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Kid/Family:
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(Note: I used "ended" if I immediately saw that it was the creators who ended the show on purpose.)
HBO Breakdown:
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Max Breakdown:
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Combined:
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HBO/Max is hovering around a confirmed 50% cancellation rate. I don't expect shows like Tokyo Vice and The Sex Lives of College Girls to last past their seasons that are about to premiere, and I expect many of these other "renewed" or "pending" shows to disappear into the ether.
Let's talk money. What is the monthly cost to subscribe to streamers? To make my life easier, I'm not going to list out yearly costs.
Streamer | Cost/Month with Ads (USD) | Cost/Month without Ads (USD) Apple | n/a | 9.99 Disney | 7.99 | 13.99 Hulu | 7.99 | 17.99 Disney/Hulu Bundle | 9.99 | 19.99 Max | 9.99 | 15.99 Netflix | 6.99 | 15.49 Paramount | 5.99 | 11.99 Peacock | 5.99 | 11.99 Prime | 8.99 | 11.98 Starz | n/a | 9.99 Discovery+ (on debut) | 4.99 | 6.99
Disney and Hulu together without bundling would be 15.98 with ads and 31.98 without ads, so each bundle is 62.5% of what it would have been with a double charge. If Max would be a similar deal, the HBO and Discovery pieces separately would add to 15.98 (ads) and 25.58 (no ads), so assuming no Discovery inflation (and, lbr, the starting pricing was already too high), the HBO piece would be 10.99 (ads) and 18.59 (no ads), putting HBO as the most expensive streaming option.
It's hidden, but Max is a bundle. Discovery+ and HBO do not have overlapping shows or audiences; it's really like if ESPN and Disney tried to sell itself as one service without telling anyone.
Since I tossed out the reality pieces, the cancellation rates I have above are the HBO pieces. If you're paying for Max, you're paying for the most expensive TV option, while paying for the highest turnover in TV productions. If you're subbed to Max for one show, it would be cheaper to just buy it from a digital store or, you know, 🏴‍☠️
So, circling back to the initial quote: sobbing about being beholden to the wacky 2019-2020 greenlights, when those greenlights are the only reason people are subscribed to the service in the first place is certainly a choice! Especially since now that the only "originals" Max is offering up are on par with Velma and The Idol, and the prestige TV that were underway at the time of merger (ex, TLOU and that upcoming HP show) maybe justify a one month sub-and-binge per year. With this obscene cancellation rate and creator disrespect, they aren't going to nab any more big projects, but they sure want you to pay them like they are.
Look, I'm not getting into the labor and worker treatment parts of this, and I'm not getting into the media representation parts of this or how non-white/straight/male shows have to meet impossible standards. Both of those are also egregious and part of a much, much larger discussion. Just from a purely consumer point of view, Max is a bad product.
Cancel Max. It is not worth your time to care about anything they put out.
Anyway, some petitions for shows that this failed streamer dumped recently. Max won't pick any of them up again, but you can show other streamers that there is interest for them to pick up the shows!
Our Flag Means Death
Rap Sh!t
Julia
Winning Time
Warrior (S4 has not been confirmed with Netflix)
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skullsuited · 7 months
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hawaiian party.
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inspired by this song.
gif credit.
an fbh!era/college!au imagine full of angst, humor, smoking weed, hiding in a bathroom at a party & grief.
content warning: marijuana usage, mentions of disordered eating, feelings of loneliness & dealing with a parent’s death.
This was the first time you'd been out since your mother's death. Unwillingly so, and yet, here you were, hiding in your best friend's bathroom at a college party. How depressing of you.
Nadia, your best friend and Alpha Theta's starry-eyed sorority member, had practically pleaded on the phone with you to come out and 'let loose', because 'your mom wouldn't want you to rot in your dorm room, eating M&M's and watching reruns of Grey's Anatomy'.
You hated that she had a point. You hated that this was what your life had come to.
Nadia had also mentioned that a few of your other friends would be attending the party and they had, apparently, mentioned how much they 'missed you' and 'wanted to see you'.
How could you say no to them? If you turned them down, you would be stuck in the same bottomless pit of loneliness, grief and M&M's.
For Nadia, for your friends and for your mother's memory, you had decided to attend the party at her sorority. Many of the people there, you didn't know or really bothered to speak to. As you arrived, you noticed a few of your friends lingering around. Niall was talking to Michael and Luke, Liam and Calum were playing spin the bottle with a few strangers, Nadia was nowhere to be seen and Harry was up against a wall, a joint in between his fingers.
He had been the first one to make eye contact with you, to notice your presence. A smile pulled at his lips and before you knew it, he was chasing you upstairs to the bathroom, racing after you as you tried to ditch the scene.
Which is where you are now: in the bathroom, sitting against the tub with Harry sat next to you.
"You've been away." He breaks through the silence between you, taking a drag from the joint he'd been puffing at.
"Yeah." You reply quietly, eyes cast downward, tracing over the tile.
"How, um... how have you been..." He trails off, trying to find the right words.
"Coping?"
Harry looks at you now, emerald eyes overcome with worry and concern for your wellbeing.
"Not very well. I haven't really... haven't really eaten properly. I mean, you know my relationship with food is..."
"A rollercoaster. Been that way for a very long time. I know."
You sigh, unsure of what to say. Of course, Harry knew. Other than Nadia, he was your closest friend. You'd met in high school and were inseparable ever since. Your fingers twitch towards the joint he's holding, and he hands it to you, watching you take a drag from it.
"Your mum was a good person, Y/N. I know she fucked up a lot of things, but one thing she was truthful about was how much she loved you."
"Y'know, what the really fucked up part of that is?"
"What?"
"I don't believe she truly loved me. I mean, after everything she put me through, how can you call that love?"
"Everyone has their own version of love, Y/N. Whether we understand it or not, is completely up to us."
A half-hearted smile tugs at the right corner of your lips. Harry's very emotionally intelligent and opening up to him, even if it's surface level, is helpful.
As you hand him the joint, a question brews in your mind, "What do you think? About love, I mean."
Harry chuckles, taking the joint from you. "I'd like to think that love is a word for a feeling no one can truly describe. I don't believe it's conditional or should be tied down to a person, place or thing. Love, like any other feeling, should be felt freely. Love is part of the human experience."
"Okay, Professor." You grin, "Maybe you should be studying psychology, become a therapist."
"Mm," He hums, "What have you been up to? Besides hibernating."
"I'm watching Grey's Anatomy again."
"Again? Christ, this is the third time!"
"I'm almost done with Season 11, believe it or not."
"Jesus. Do you not get bored of looking at Jesse Williams?"
"Never."
"Is that all you've been doing?"
"What, is wasting away in my bed, anticipating the next time Dr. Jackson Avery is on my screen, not a healthy way to cope with the fact that my mother's dead?"
"You're passively grieving, Y/N. Hell, I don't even think you've allowed yourself to fully process."
"These things take time, H. I can't just piece myself back together."
"S' not what I'm getting at, love. I think you're pushing your grief to the side."
"Harry..."
"If you need a reminder that you can come to someone, that you're allowed to shoulder the burden with someone else, I'm happy to give you one. You can't go through this alone, no matter how hard you try."
"You know just what to say, don't you?"
"Maybe I should become a therapist. M' quite good at it."
"Well, in that case, should I open up now or let you get your PhD first?"
"Don't bother. Dr. Styles is in."
"In all seriousness? Thank you, H... for letting me just... be."
"Don't have to thank me, love. M' always here. Now, why don't we get out of here, smoke a bowl in my car and get you a cheeseburger?"
"Sounds good to me, Styles."
Harry stands, the joint he'd been holding in between his fingers had burnt out. He tosses it in the trash bin near the toilet, before holding his hand out for you to take. You smile up at him, taking ahold of it.
Exiting the bathroom, you both weave through the party and head out into the night.
If there's anything your mom would have wanted for you, it was to have someone like Harry. Harry was supportive, thoughtful. He knew you better than you knew yourself and, at times, you were grateful for that.
With death, comes life. With life, comes love.
Perhaps, Harry would open your eyes to that.
You had hope that he would. That he will.
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sandy-the-glader · 20 days
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Hi!! I hope this is okay!! If not, no worries!! 💜💜💜 (I love you lots!)
Can I please request an Adrian Chase x fem!innocent!reader Where while Adrian is out and about doing his Vigilante work he comes across a bunch of criminals in a warehouse, and after they’re all “taken care of”, he hears someone crying and finds a girl hiding behind a pile of the criminal’s stuff, and she’s handcuffed to something over there, so she couldn’t leave even if she wanted to. She’d obviously be completely terrified of Vig, but as we know, he is very good at reading a person and would clearly see that she is innocent, and had been taken by the bad guys. Normally he would just set the innocent girl free and be on his way, having already taken care of the bad guys, however… He had unfortunately taken off his mask right before finding her, and had forgotten to put it back on, so she has seen his face. Panicking, he just picks her up, and takes her to his car with him, driving straight to the 11th Street Kids HQ, carrying in a terrified Y/n, he himself all panicked, and the team is like “wtf did you do????” “Did you abduct her???” And he’s just like, “No no, I saved her! But then she saw my face… So I guess, yes??”
Lmao it’s honestly a mess, but the team takes care of Y/n’s injuries, apologies for Adrian’s behavior lmao, and lets her stay there until she has recovered, as not only is she hurt, but very scared. After a while of staying with them, she gradually starts warming up to Adrian, him desperately trying to get her not to be afraid of him anymore (for a while there she was terrified of him), and their relationship eventually grows into a more romantic and intimate one🥺🥺🤧
Afraid of Me
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*Not my gif*
Character: Adrian Chase x SoftFem!Reader
Type: Fluff and sorta angsty
Length: 5.4K (a bit long)
Summary: Request above <3
Trope: Strangers to friends to lovers, Slow-burn
A/N: LONG A/N!! Sorry this took forever I've been busy with a lot of stuff and I just haven't had any time but I worked on this whenever I could. Btw again I bent the request a little bit (I'm not sure if I wrote what you wanted for it and I apologize ) so I hope it’s okay I just made this go over the whole period of time the show does and like more so there's more time for a bond to be built lol
I heard a quick gunshot followed by another. Tears continued to fall from my eyes as I was tied to some random wall in some warehouse, Apparently, I was not supposed to come across two men selling heroin to each other but here I am. They claimed I saw too much, took me, and tied me up. Who even does that?
I just wanted to return to my apartment and read this new book I bought. That's all I had planned for my day anyway. Yet now I was tied to a pole in some wet and cold warehouse with random crates surrounding me. I tugged and tried to break from but it was helpless. I cried and sniffled as I continued to try but there was no avail.
Were those shots from them or someone else? Please god, let someone save me. I had been here for hours and I was scared of what they had planned for me. They already hit me pretty hard over the head which caused a small trail of blood to fall from my temple.
I heard loud and heavy footsteps coming towards me. I braced myself and waited for the figure to come around the crate to where I was. He was wearing a teal suit, with blood covering it. It was Vigilante. Should I be happy or terrified? He's a killer but isn't he supposed to be a hero?
"Fuck oh my god." He gasped slapping a gloved hand over his mouth. He was missing one exceptionally important part of his suit. His mask. That must have been why he was so frantic.
In all honesty, he looked nothing like I always pictured him. He was lanky with glasses and he looked really young. He looked mid-twenties though I had a feeling he was older. He honestly looked nerdy.
"I'm sorry. I really won't tell anyone who you are. I-I mean I don't even know your name." I stammered. He didn't care though because he continued to curse.
"Fuck fuck fuck. This is so not good." he groaned. The man ran a thick hand through his hair while bouncing back and forth. "Umm." He pondered confused about what to do. "Shit, I can't let you go." My eyes widen. He already has saved me why not let me go on my merry way? He took off his glasses and put his mask back on.
He came over to me and examined my situation. He crouched down and started untieing the rope that kept me on the pole but didn't bother with the ones around my hands or feet.
I was about to thank him for his acts but he picked me up and started to carry me out. Oh, he's actually not letting me go.
"What are you doing!?" I panicked. I started wiggling my body in his grasp then he held me tighter. "Where are you taking me? This hurts." He continued to keep walking until we reached his car a couple of feet from the warehouse.
Holding me with one hand, he opened the door to his back seat and tossed me in. Judging by his face, he didn't mean it to be as aggressive but it was enough to get me to shut up. He slammed the door and rushed over to the driver's seat.
This is it. After all that's happened today I'm being kidnapped by Vigilante and who knows what's going to happen. I guess the law doesn't apply when it comes to him. I actually can't believe it right now.
The entire car ride was silent. Not a sound from the man or from me. It was terrifying. All I could think of was what was going to happen to me. it took him forever to get to his destination and when we got there I realized it was some rundown video store. That couldn't be where we're going right?
-
"Guy's we got a fucking situation!" Adrian called opening the door with the girl in his hands. The whole team in the building stared at him with wide 'What the fuck' like eyes.
"Who the fuck is that?" Economos asked adjusting his glasses and leaning over his desk.
Adrian (not so carefully) dropped the woman on the floor making her yelp out in shock and pain.
"Did you just kidnap a girl?" Adebayo's eyes widened at the sight.
"No Adebayo!" He yelled defensively. "Okay, well technically yes but-" He was cut off quickly.
"And why did you bring her here?" Harcourt burst out running a hand through her blonde hair.
"Okay, I was doing my badass stuff, right? Like beating up these bad dudes and I found her behind some crates." They all stared at him waiting for him to continue. "And since I didn't know these dudes took a hostage I took my mask off and that's-" He removed his mask again and replaced the glasses on his face. "Really bad." He grimaced.
"Adrian what the hell dude you could have left her. She would have never turned you in. Look at her. No offense." Chris said. She stayed silent like she never heard the comment in the first place.
She was scared to death, trembling on the floor with small tear streaks down her face. Some of the tears mixed in with blood on the left side of her face. She looked innocent as could be and she definitely didn't deserve to be in this mess.
"Dude what the fuck!" He shouted at Chris. "Now she knows my real name! You have so fucked me!" He continued to cure which didn't make the girl feel any better.
"I did not fuck you! Besides it's your fault for bringing her here anyway." Chris furrowed his eyebrows looking back and forth between the petrified girl and his idiotic friend.
"What is happening out here?" Murn came out from one of the rooms and immediately regretted his decision. "We're supposed to be working on the project butterfly case what are you doing Chase?" He asked sternly.
"Oh, now she knows about Project Butterfly!" Harcourt placed a hand on her forehead.
"Well, it's not like I can kill her because she's innocent" The girl's face drained at the mention of death. "and we can't get rid of her because she might tell someone who I am!" Adrian wined out. He was finally right about one thing.
"She also might screw our plan up," Murn muttered trying to think of a reasonable thing to do with this girl.
"Then what do you suppose we do with her?" Economos folded his arms. The girl had been silent the entirety of this conversation but she finally piped up.
"Um.." Her voice caught everyone's attention and they turned their heads to look at her. "I-I can clean and o-organize around here." She stammered. "I can help you guys just please don't kill me." She pleaded. They all non-verbally agreed she had been through enough judging by the look of blood running from her temple and dirt caking her shirt.
"Yeah that honestly could be useful," Harcourt spoke. She looked around the room to only be met with agreeing faces. She let out another deep sigh before Murn spoke up.
"You will work the same hours as us and will get paid a fair amount." He folded his arms tightly over his chest. He didn't ask he just demanded she work.
"I'm also a fast learner and I can help you with anything you need. I don't have a current job so that would be perfect." She tried to look at the bright side of the situation. I can work for money but this is a destructive and hard-core business she pondered. "And since this is a very um dangerous job I just so happened to be trained in medical care." She offered.
"Oh, sweet! That's perfect so now dyed bear can stop doing such a shit job of stitching me up!" Chris smiled.
"Hey!" Economos protested. It was perfectly fine he thought.
"What about my living situation? C-can I still stay In my apartment?" She asked. They all looked around at each other because that was one thing they hadn't thought of. If they let her stay, she could always tell people without them knowing.
"If we let you stay in your apartment, you must realize he" Murn pointed at Adrian Chase himself. "has to keep watch of you? He somehow always knows if someone is doing something they shouldn't be." She nodded slowly. "And if you tell anyone and I mean anyone you will be terminated immediately, do you understand?" He spoke firmly making her hands tremble.
"I understand." She muttered.
"Now that everyone is done with this whole situation I suggest you get back to work," Murn concluded walking back to his office annoyed with the inconvenience.
-
I sat there absolutely stunned at what just happened. I just got myself into a bat shit crazy job. I mean I don't even know these people and one of them literally abducted me. This is not normal.
Project butterfly? Are these guys all heroes or something? I already was aware of Vigilante's existence and somewhat Peacemaker but there's a lot more than just those two.
"Oh my god, he didn't even untie you." The blonde-haired woman spoke in surprise. I didn't say anything because really what was I supposed to say? "I'm Harcourt." She kneeled beside me. She opened a switchblade and sliced through the ropes binding my hands together and then my feet. "Come on let's get you cleaned up. She went and collected the first aid kit from one of the desks on the left side of the room and motioned for me to sit at her desk. "What's your name?" She asked.
"Y/n L/n." I said quietly as I stared into my lap anxiously.
"Come sit Y/n." She said calmly trying to make me comfortable.
I stood up uneasily and almost fell back down. I steadied myself and carefully walked over to the chair and sat down gently. She pulled out a couple of cotton swabs and some alcohol. She poured the strong liquid onto the small ball.
"I'm sorry about him." Harcourt hummed taking the cotton swab to my forehead.
"Hm?" I replied softly.
"Adrian." She looked me in the eyes. "He just isn't all there sometimes." She mumbled. She tossed the bloodied-up swab in the trash and put a bandage over the small cut.
I looked over at Vigilante who I guess was named Adrian. He was talking to Peacemaker and he looked perfectly innocent. Not even an hour earlier he was tossing me into the back of his car. Jesus, what did I really get myself into? Not only does he have to escort me home, but now I have to work with him. He's a psycho!
"She has a point you know." The woman I was pretty sure was Adebayo spoke up. I glanced at her and she nodded trying to make me realize it. "He's a really good guy you just have to get to know him. I get it he basically kidnapped you but he's stupid in everything but fighting."
"Yeah okay," I mumbled softly. I don't care what they say now I can't trust him after what he did unless he really proves he's trustworthy. At least these people actually had the decency to tend to my wounds.
She continued to bandage and take care of every cut I had on my arms and face. I enjoyed her already because she was delicate to me and cared about my feelings. Pretty quickly she finished and put all the materials away.
"Come over here I think we found a box of old clothes you could change in." She led me back into the store and I could feel Adrian's eyes burning into my back.
-
"Dude she's afraid of me!" I panicked at Chris looking him dead in the eye. I waited for her to leave before I talked to my best friend about the whole thing.
"Well, I mean you did throw her in the back of your car. Chicks don't really dig that. Unless they're like hardcore." Okay yeah obviously I fucked up big time but I was under a lot of pressure and I wasn't doing what I should have!
"Dude I didn't know what else to do." I whined
"I mean you just gotta make things right with her I guess. I don't know I usually don't have to apologize to girls." He shrugged his shoulders. Great okay how am I supposed to do that when she's obviously afraid of me? Fuck. "Listen when you walk her to her apartment just be like 'Sorry for kidnapping you in my shitty car that was a pretty bad thing to do!' or something like that." I let out a heavy sigh. This is never going to work.
-
I came back out to the main room in a sweatshirt with the video store's logo on it and sweatpants that were longer than my actual legs with the same logo down the side of it. I held my original clothes in my arms and I was quiet.
What do I do now? Go home? How am I supposed to feel safe in my own home when I know that guy is watching me?
"Listen." Harcourt grabbed my attention. "You can take as much time as you need before you go home. I know that was probably a traumatic experience for you so let me know when you want to leave." She spoke as if she had read my mind. I nodded. "Also we have your address so we can get you home easily." Okay well, I told her my name and that was all it took to find out where I lived. Spectacular.
"What are my work hours?" I still can't believe I got myself to work for these people.
"Just don't get here any later than 8. Hours are different every day. Since you now work here I guess I should tell you who everyone is." She pointed to Peacemaker and Vigilante who were still chatting near the corner of the room "Chris and Adrian ." Then to the other man in glasses. "Economos." The guy in the other room that I could see through the glass. "Murn." Finally, she pointed at the last girl which I already knew. "and Adebayo."
I stood around for not too much longer before very anxiously describing to Harcourt my wishes to leave. She understood fully and went over to Adrian to make him take me home. He looked at me with some sort of care in his eyes but I just couldn't look at him so my eyes fell back to the sight of the floor.
"Come on kid." Harcourt motioned with her head to leave out the door with the man. I walked out the door and the cool air hit me as the sun started to sink down below the horizon.
One car ride and then I'm home. This time I got to sit in the front seat of his car instead of being thrown in the back like a doll. I secured my seatbelt and then just slumped against the car door. All I could really do was pay attention to the passing cars outside and the quiet buzz of the radio.
I also noticed the pleasing smell of his cologne that filled the car or how he hummed along to the Taylor Swift song on the radio. Someone like him is a swiftie?
"I'm sorry that I kidnapped you." Adrian broke the silence between us in an attempt to apologize. I ignored it and kept looking out the window. It was a long day and I genuinely couldn't tell if he was being sincere or was just trying to make me feel like he cared. "Please talk to me. I know I fucked up." I glanced over at him; his eyes flickered between the road and me. "Hey." He reached for my hand and flinched away with wide eyes and a quickened heartbeat.
His eyes lit up in sorrow. He looked like he felt bad. He backed off and for the rest of the car ride, he didn't talk anymore. There was so much tension in that car I felt like I was going to suffocate. I could barely look at him. I was still scared of his guts.
Every turn and stop made me think over and over about the events that occurred today. It was nauseating.
Finally walking through the door of my apartment left me with this feeling I couldn't describe. All of the events that happened today were fucking unbelievable.
The book I was planning to read was on my bed and was quickly tossed on my side table with a small thud. I sprawled out on my bed not bothering to do anything else tonight.
What. The. Fuck.
-
It's my first day on the job and my teammate already hit someone with a car. A van actually. I got to the disguised video store a bit after seven and Murn described the plan to me. Since I wasn't significant to the plan I just stayed in the car with a first-aid kit just in case things went south. And oh they did.
"Is he dead!?" I stood in the van looking at Economos dumbfounded. He didn't reply at first he was just making shocked quivering noises.
"I... I don't know?" My eyes widened as he started to get out of the car holding a crowbar tightly in his hands. I left the kit on the seats (since I had been fidgeting with the latches the whole ride) and followed him for support or something like that. Maybe I thought I could help. He inspected inside the car which he had hit fully force.
Judomaster was crawling on the ground in front of the car slowly. Economos inched closer and closer to him holding the crowbar. He whacked him once over the head and jolted backward then his body went limp. We waited and sure enough, he kept crawling. He hit him again and he still was moving. I slapped a hand over my mouth as he repeatedly hit him on the back of the head. He poked him a few times like you would a bug making sure he wasn't moving.
"Oh my god." He let out. "Fuck yeah!" He turned around to high-five me. I lightly returned it. "Don't worry he's not dead." He said sensing my shock. "They're hardcore it takes a lot."
"Well, what do we do with him now?" I looked at Economos for ideas. We ended up tying him up and throwing him in the back of the van. I watched him intensely. When would this dude wake up? I really hope not any time soon. Murn radioed us and let us know that they would be coming back soon with of course Vigilante. Economos drove us back to the spot we were supposed to be in and awaited their arrival.
"You're pretty cool." I complimented him. He was taken aback by the positive words.
"Well thank you." He adjusted his glasses with a bright smile.
We waited for 15 minutes until they finally arrived and loaded themselves into the van. Everyone looked untouched besides Harcourt's messy hair, a couple cuts on Peacemaker's face and Vigilante crying about his bleeding toe. I grabbed the medical kit I had set down on the seats just minutes before and rushed to Adrian's side.
I motioned for him to move his foot up to where I needed it. He hesitated for a moment but then proceeded to lift his foot into my lap. I scoped out his injured toe and I pulled out the needed materials.
Yikes. I was definitely glad that I stayed in the van. Adrian’s foot jerked in my lap as I tried to get some alcohol.
"Hold still!" I complained to Adrian trying to hold his leg down from wriggling under my grasp. From the looks of it, this man had managed to get half of his pinky toe cut off. That is such a bizarre thing for torture.
“It hurts so bad though!” He wined when I took the alcohol to his foot. He had obviously had worse happen to him but this?
“It could have been worse,” I said. My hold got tighter on his leg since it kept jolting side to side.
“Pft yeah, this was nothing!” He lied as if he hadn’t been complaining two seconds ago. “I’ve gone through worse in DND.” A small smile appeared on my cheeks. DND huh? Who knew the big strong Vigilante was a total nerd? And a swiftie...
“One of my characters got their arm bitten off by a bear so I’d say you’re okay,” I said. His eyes lit up at the mention that I had played before." Just sit still it's about to get worse." His eyes clenched shut.
"Oh shit!" He screamed out making everyone irritated in the van. I shushed him gently with a soft hand on his leg. He shut up very quickly but his body still tensed occasionally with every sting. I held his foot carefully as I bandaged it up thoroughly.
"Are you hurt anywhere else?" I asked. I still didn't dare to look him in the eye.
"Yeah, but I can wait until we get back." He tried to act tough but I could hear the pain in his voice. I noticed a couple of holes in his shirt. Maybe I could fix his shirt while I'm at it. God am I being too nice?
I mean I'm trying to think of the bright side of what happened yesterday and honestly, it didn't seem so bad anymore. He saved my ass and I'm having a paying job. I can only imagine the pay is fantastic for what these people have me doing. I sat next to Adrian. I was feeling a little less scared of him now when I thought about him like that. Even through the visor, his eyes were peeled onto me. It felt like since I got here they never left.
Getting back to headquarters I couldn't get Adrian to get out of the van without making a scene. I dragged him quickly into the store so he wouldn't draw any attention from people lurking around In the streets. I pulled him by his hand and made him sit in the closest chair I could spot. He whined and moaned obnoxiously loud. I knew the stories and new articles about the man. He was tough and put up a big fight, he never lost against criminals.
I grabbed the larger bandages from an area Harcourt showed me just this morning and also some more alcohol.
"Show me where you're hurt." I looked at him curious about what else had happened to him. He pulled off his chest plate and revealed the deep stab wound in his shoulder. The fabric of his shirt clearly revealed the bloody mess it left. My eyes widen. "You kept this from me until now?"
"I could handle this. The toe I'm not entirely sure." I cleaned and bandaged the wound with intense concentration. I was careful and sure not to cause any more harm after this long night. "Thank you." He said softly. I just nodded and didn't reply with anything else.
-
The days passed as we worked on this project and the days were long and there was a lot of work to do. I didn't have almost any free time anymore so it was hard to make time for friends I actually wanted to talk to or things I really wanted to do. Adrian continued to try his hardest to earn my trust and befriend me.
I started to warm up to him crazy enough. He did little things for me I thought were sweet. Sometimes he brought me breakfast or he would try to learn about things I liked so he could talk about them with me. I started to trust him more and more as the mission proceeded because he was really good company. He would talk and I would listen.
A couple of days after the whole 'Adrian getting his pinky toe almost cut off' situation he got himself arrested. I didn't even know until Harcourt talked to me about it and what Adebayo said to him. I felt bad for him because as much as I thought I disliked him, I hated to hear he was where he was and how Adebayo literally manipulated him into doing it.
The night he got out he showed up at my apartment because he still needed to check up on me and since he hadn't been able to. For the first time, I felt comfortable enough to hug him. So I did, I wrapped my arms gently around his torso and gave a small squeeze. We stood like that for a minute before he quietly wished me a 'goodnight' without any further words. That was the kindest moment we had ever shared with one another
Then the next day we had another mission. Since all this time has passed, I had been informed on what a Butterfly fully was. At first, it was entirely confusing until I realized these were tiny alien butterflies here to kill us. I know it sounds like something straight out of a sci-fi movie.
I had to sit through a whole meeting in the morning next to Adrian where he (the whole time) joked with me. It felt sorta nice honestly. He never stopped being friendly and I just kind of started to accept it more.
And the whole mission went by quickly.
"Oh my god." I blurted when everyone arrived back in the truck. Peacemaker and Economos were fully drenched head to toe in blood, Harcourt had a good amount on her, and Adebayo and Adrian had little to none on them.
"We fought a fucking gorilla!" Adebayo exploded with astonishment. Jesus, sometimes I wish I didn't sit in the car the whole time.
"Economos is the fucking man." Peacemaker clapped him on the back with a proud grin. I did miss a lot if those two are now getting along.
"All the blood is the gorillas right?" I asked startled for a second considering the amount.
"Yeah we're all fine," Harcourt said tiredly.
"At least no one's arm got bitten off, like your DND character right?" Adrian nudged me in the side and sat down next to me. Sure I had only told him a few days ago about that but it still made me happy that he had remembered that tiny detail.
"Right." I smiled. Chris sat in the front and started playing music like he had at the beginning of the ride. I sang along with the rest of my team members to 11th Street Kids and I actually started to enjoy my work a little more.
I looked over at Adrian who was dancing like a dork. He looked so adorable? He was playing air drums and making up random dances as he went. I don't know why but I started to not hate him anymore. I started seeing this more personal side of him. Not Vigilante but Adrian.
"C'mon dance," Adrian whispered in my ear and nudged me again. I started to sway along with the group.
Later that night Harcourt made a group chat with all of us and sent a photo she had taken in the van. I set the book down I had finally got to reading beside me on my bed and picked up my phone.
Everyone was dancing in the van but on the right side, you could see me looking at Adrian with the sweetest smile on my face. The chat is filled with different emojis. The only number I had was Harcourts but from the merman emoji, I already knew it was Adrian. I liked his message and sent a fitting emoji to match the others.
I set my phone down and continued reading with a big smile. I never seemed to stop today.
-
It was the final day of the project and I wasn’t allowed to go. I wasn’t entirely complaining since this job was so bizarre but I was also disappointed. I mean all this build up and I don’t even get to go. They said it would be safer for me and of course, I understood.
But as the night carried on and the morning came through I was nervous. I had no texts or word from anyone. Sure, they still could be busy and have to do some other stuff before texting me but what if?
I heard a rushed-sounding knock on my door which threw me off. I ran to my door since the person decided to not stop knocking.
"What do you want?" I hissed as I threw open the door but I was only met with Adrian. My eyes soften upon seeing him. Oh, thank god he’s alive. "Adrian. Hi." I paused when noticing he was in a pair of shorts and a nursing gown. "Come inside." I ushered him in with wide eyes and closed the door quickly behind him. "What are you doing here?"
"Listen I jumped out of a hospital building to be her so-"
"Adrian!" I scolded him for being careless. I had started to really enjoy him I didn't need him being so careless all the time.
"Shut up. Sorry, but I need to tell you this." I stared at him silently with folded arms awaiting what he was about to tell me. "Okay, so after almost dying, I know what you're about to say please just wait. After almost dying, I realized had more feelings for you than I have ever had for someone and that's like a lot for me." He stepped closer to me. "I had to tell you those feelings just in case I actually died sometime. But now I'm scared if you reject me because of the whole kidnapping thing when we first met and usually I would be okay with rejection but I don't feel usual with you." He rambled and his hands made several confusing gestures along the way.
Everything about him told me he was being truthful. His hands were trembling with nervousness, He literally came from a hospital to tell me this and he just had that look on his face.
The feelings from the other day came rushing back. I really enjoyed being with genuine Adrian. The time we spent together over the course of this project was enjoyable. I noticed small things about him like the way he always made sure to keep an eye on me and was careful not to get me into anything super dangerous. He had become almost like a personal guard.
He even taught me how to use weapons, and also never overstepped my boundaries. So yeah maybe I developed a crush on my kidnapper co-worker.
"Why are you looking at me like that I'm like really nervous right now." He asked.
"Because I feel the same way. Even though you did totally kidnap and traumatize me." I nudged him smiling but he didn't return it. "Adrian I was playing with you. But I really do feel the same way." He let out a long breath. I was quite sure he had stopped breathing for a little while.
"Oh thank god." Adrian stepped closer and picked me up in his arms as he kissed me deeply. I've kissed a couple of times in the past but never did it feel as amazing as this. I held him close to me as if he would slip away again. He pulled away to look closely at my face.
"Just because you kissed me doesn't mean I won't scold you for almost dying." I glared at him but he just smiled kindly and kissed me again.
"If I keep. Kissing you then. I won't. Get yelled at." He said in between kisses making me start to laugh.
“Don’t scare me like that again Chase.” I shook my head kissing him passionately once more. I could get used to this feeling.
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Text
Price, Ghost, And Gaz React To Their To A Sketch Their S/O Drew Of Them
TW: Fluff, SFW, All The Love
Not my gifs--------All supported by Tumblr
Requested By: Anon
Reblogs And Comments Are Highly Appreciated!!! :)
John "Captain" Price:
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John had gotten out of the shower and walked into the bedroom that you and John shared. As you put on his grey sweatpants, he saw your sketchbook out on the dresser and it was left open with a sketch of him, sleeping. He picked up to get a better look at it and smiled softly. You sketched him perfectly. The settle details that you drew along his chest hair and the way his necklace dangled along his chest. You drew his dark brown hair messy like it always was in the morning that you loved so much. "Hey baby? What do you want to do for -oh you found my sketch of you", You said, as you walked into the bedroom, where John was. "When did you draw this?", John asked, as he looked over at you. "Uhm...I-I drew it the other day when you arrived home. You looked so peaceful and happy. I wanted to admire what I saw and you were perfect just laying there", you said, looking up at John who smiled at you. "Well, I have to say, this is a beautiful drawing. Could be your muse,yeah?",John said, as he turned towards you and chuckled. "I mean, you could me my muse. Don't worry you don't have to leave your shirt off...unless you want to", You said, smiling, biting your lip and running your hands over his shirtless torso. "Mm love, I'll be your muse anytime. Oh! Also, do you wanna do takeout for dinner? We can order from that Chinese place we love or I can cook something up here", John said, pecking your neck softly then traveling up to your lips, kissing you gently as he held onto your hips. You smiled, your hands holding the sides of his face and kissed him back. "We don't have a bunch of food so we'll have to go grocery shopping tomorrow so Chinese sounds good", you said, wrapping your arms around him. "Sounds good to me. Let's order love", John said, as he put your sketchbook back down on the dresser and followed you out into the living room. You draw him a lot now and he loves seeing your drawing.
Simon "Ghost" Riley:
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Simon was in the living room of the apartment that you two shared, looking for his necklace. He turned and saw your sketchbook laid out on a page where you had drawn him. Simon looked at it and picked it up. He saw how well you drew, even the minor details. He noticed how well you took the time to draw him, from the way his hair was, his eyes and his clothes. "Hey baby, did you find your-oh you found my sketch of you", you said, looking up at him. "When did you draw this?", Simon said, still looking at the sketch then looking down at you. "Remember when I came down to base to visit you because you couldn't come home yet due to the mission being on hold? When we were in your quarters, I could help but draw you sitting there. You looked so peaceful. I can get rid of it if you want me to, I don't want to make you uncomfortable", you said, looking down. Simon put the sketch book back down on the table, lifted your chin up so you could look at him and kissed you passionately. You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him back, causing him to hum softly. "No, I don't want you to get rid of it and you didn't make me uncomfortable at all, lovie. Maybe you could keep it like a personal collection?", Simon said, giving you a soft smile. "Ok then. I'll keep it in my personal collection, then. You wouldn't mind if I keep drawing you? I'll keep them hidden", You said, keeping your eyes on him. "I won't mind at all, lovie. Also, have you seen my necklace? I haven't seen it", Simon said, looking around the room until he saw that you pulled his necklace out from the dresser. "Oh that's where it was. Thank you", Simon said, putting his necklace back on and letting it dangle from his chest. "Your welcome, Si. Wanna come cuddle with me for a while?", You said. "Yes, I'd love to do that", Simon said, as you took his hand and guided him to the bedroom where you two then laid down. He smiled as he was close to his body. Lowkey, he loved the drawing that you did of him and makes him love you even more.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:
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Kyle was going through some paperwork in the office of the home that you two shared. As he got up, he saw your sketchbook laid out and opened to a sketch of him. You took your time with the details. Kyle always admired your sketches that you did. "Hey baby, you do-oh..you found my sketch of you", you said,looking up at him. "Princes, when did you draw this?", Kyle asked, looking back at you. "You remember that small trip that we took a few weeks ago when we went to the beach? I couldn't help but to draw you. You looked so happy and relieved. You're quite beautiful to draw, baby", you said, and gave him a small smile. "Well, this is a lovely picture. Maybe I'll let you sketch me more often, yeah? I can take my shirt off for you", Kyle said, biting his lip, while smiling at you. "I'd love to sketch you more, but you taking off your shirt will become a distraction", You said, as you wrapped your arms around him and felt his hands grab your waist. "But you love when I distract you. Especially when I do this", Kyle said, he kissed you passionately. Your hands traveled to touch the back of his hair before you pulled away for a second. "Mm that is a very good distraction, baby. But I need to-", you said, before getting cut off again but Kyle's lips. You kissed him back as he held onto you tightly before pulling away from your lips again. "Don't get rid of that sketch. It's really good and would it be ok If I kept it?", Kyle said. "Of course you can keep it. Oh hey, what do you want to do for lunch? I'm starving", you said still having yourself wrapped around him. "Hmm, I can grill up some hamburgers on the grill. You ok with that?", Kyle asked, while giving you a soft smile. You nodded before kissing his cheek and leaving the room to go help get everything. He took one last look at the sketch. He knew he found the love of his life and loved you even more.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-)
Taglist: @andreas-river @dressycobra7 @deadbranch @kiamewrites
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willalove75 · 2 months
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The Estate | Lady Dimitrescu x Fem!oc Chapter 5
Summary: You have a relaxing weekend with your daughter before your first full week of work begins - and it begins with a surprise visitor and a spontaneous conversation with your new boss.
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI
Tags: fluff, angst if you squint, plot development
I'll add more tags as needed!
Notes: Chapter 5! In reference to the gif: if you know. You know. BECSPK gang 4 lyfeee💕 (Although my go-to is egg whites and bacon on a seedless🤤)
I want to SO apologize for not updating this fic in MONTHS! For those of you who haven't seen my Alcina's New Maid update (or my Tumblr post update) the reason for my lack of writing has been because I'm pregnant! I'm officially 20 weeks (halfway! WOO!) and have been trying to get myself back into a regular writing schedule. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the update!
Ik slow burns can be boring and I'm trying my hardest to keep it entertaining while also not rushing too much!! I have a LOT planned for this fic and I'm excited to get into the meat and potatoes of it!
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Saturday mornings are your favorite. They're usually relatively quiet, not a lot goes on and you get to spend some lazy quality time with Emma. Just as you're clipping her into her booster seat your phone dings with a text message.
Open the door, bitch
Rolling your eyes, you walk to the door and open it to find your sister, Sam, standing in front of you with a brown paper bag in her hands.
"Finally!" She says as she walks into the apartment.
"How long were you standing out there for? Thirty seconds?"
"Thirty seconds too long!" She says over her shoulder as she drops the bag onto the table and leans down to kiss Emma. "Hello my sweet little angel, how are you this morning?"
"Auntie! I'm hungry!"
"You didn't eat yet, did you?" She asks you as she opens the paper bag.
The smell of bacon immediately fills the kitchen and it makes your mouth water. The signature scent of an egg sandwich causes your stomach to growl in response.
"No, I was just about to make Emma something. Fuck that smells so good." You say under your breath. "Where are the kids?"
"Good, I got you a sandwich. And Tyler has them today. It's his weekend." Sam says.
"Ah, gotcha."
Sam hands you a sandwich from the bag and you eagerly take it from her.
"I don't think I've ever loved you more in my life."
"Ha ha" Sam sarcastically laughs. "Yeah I'm sure."
After whipping up Emma eggs of her own you sit at the table with Sam and dig into your sandwich.
"God I haven't had one of these in a minute."
"Consider this a 'congratulations on getting a job' gift." She says and you laugh in response. "How was it?"
"It was good, I keep saying this but it's really great to be back working and doing my thing. I missed it."
"Well I'm glad you're enjoying it so far. How are the people?"
"They're good, my boss is really nice, her kids for the most part are nice too. The CFO is kind of an ass, at least that's how he comes off."
"That sounds about right. Your boss' kids work there?"
"Yeah." You tell her about Bela, Cassandra and Daniela and she chuckles at Cassandra's attitude towards you.
"She sounds like a ray of sunshine." Sam says.
"You have no idea."
"Mommy! I want out!" Emma says.
"Okay baby, let's get you out."
You take Emma out of her booster seat and set her on the ground.
"Can I go play?"
"Yes baby, go ahead."
"YAY!" Emma screams as she runs into her room. You chuckle and shake your head at her.
"Well I'm glad you're liking it so far and that your boss is pretty cool. Have you told her about...?"
"No, not yet. It's too soon."
"She hasn't questioned why you've been out of work for two years?"
"Oh no, she has. But I danced around it. I'm not ready to talk about it in the office yet. It's nice not having people look at me the way they do once they find out, you know?"
"Not really, but I can understand. Is she at least understanding that you're a single mom?"
"Well, she just found that out yesterday, on accident really. Bela asked if Em was a mommy or daddy's girl."
"Ouch."
"Yeah. But I think I played it off well enough. And Bela definitely felt bad for asking because she blurted out that Alcina is a single mother too."
"Oh shit, really?"
"Yeah. Alcina shot her a look. A 'don't tell people about our personal lives' kind of look. Then before I left for the day she thanked me for being so kind to her daughters, especially the youngest one. It was really sweet."
"From what you've said she doesn't seem like the type to get sentimental with her employees like that."
"She isn't. I honestly don't know if she's ever showed anyone else in the office that side of her before. Everything is always strictly business with her, at least from what I've seen so far. But it was nice seeing that softer side of her."
"What does she look like?"
"Why?"
"Because I'm nosey and want to know!"
"I don't know, she's tall, like six feet tall and she wears heels."
"Holy shit she must be a giant."
"She is. She has short curly hair, really pretty blue-grey eyes. I've never seen eyes like hers before, they're beautiful. And she has the best figure I've ever seen, it's almost fake but you know it isn't."
"How so?"
"She has like, massive tits." You say as you imitate the size of her breasts with your hands. "And a small waist, but not like, too small? Nothing about this woman is small honestly. She has a like, perfect hour glass figure. But you can tell it's all natural. And she dresses like she walked out of the 1950s."
"Sounds like you've looked her over on more than one occasion." Sam says as she smirks at you.
"You would too if you saw her! Practically everyone does. She gives off this crazy alpha energy."
"You're single, right?"
"Oh god Sam stop. She's my boss!" You say as your cheeks turn pink.
"That hasn't stopped people before!"
"You're ridiculous. No."
"You're turning red!"
"I've been there three days! I can't have a crush on my boss! Plus, just because she's a single parent doesn't mean she isn't seeing anyone. And I doubt she's into women and she's. My. Boss."
"Whatever you say." Sam says with a smirk as she cleans up the table.
"You are a pain in my ass."
"Yet you love me anyway. So how's sassy pants downstairs?"
"Margie? She's fine, same as usual. She finally gave up driving, thank god."
"Oh fucking finally. Deb's been trying to convince her mother to stop driving for years. What made her finally give in?"
"Well, a few months ago she ran into the garage door."
"Oh Jesus."
"So she bargained. She said she would stop driving if she could start smoking again."
Sam laughs out loud and shakes her head. "She is stubborn as fuck."
"The most stubborn woman I know."
Sam hangs out with you and Emma for a few more hours before heading out. Around one in the afternoon you put Emma down for a nap and you decide to jump in the shower. After your shower you get dressed and clean the house a little. Emma only naps for an hour and a half before you go in and wake her up.
The weather is finally warming up so you decide it's the perfect day to head to the park nearby. Emma squeals with excitement when you pull up and you can barely keep up with her as she runs to the slide. There's a few other kids at the park with their parents watching close by. You keep an eye on Emma as she goes up and down the slide a few times before growing bored of it and moving to play on the jungle gym.
Kids and their parents come and go as you sit on the bench watching your daughter. Dinner time is slowly arriving so you tell Emma she can go on the slide three more times before it's time to go home. After the third time she puts up a little bit of a fight but the moment you suggest going and getting dinner from her favorite place, she's more than eager to leave.
After pulling into the parking lot you and Emma enter the 1950's-style diner. The hostess seats the two of you and when your waitress comes you place your order. Not long after the food comes out and you start on your sandwich as Emma munches on her chicken fingers. Emma squeals with excitement when you tell her that she's allowed to get an ice cream and she happily orders a vanilla sundae, you of course also order one for yourself.
As usual, Emma is wearing her ice cream by the time she's finished with it but truthfully, you couldn't care less. After getting the check and paying at the register you and Emma head home.
Once Emma is bathed and dressed in her pajamas, the two of you pick out a book, as you do every night, and you read her the story as she falls asleep.
The rest of the weekend flies by and before you know it, Monday is back again. After dropping Emma off at your in-laws house you make your way to the estate.
Walking inside you see Cassandra and one of the other bartenders prepping the bar for the day. You wave at them, Cassandra as per usual ignores you but the other bartender, Dave, waves at you with a smile and a pleasant "good morning!"
Rounding the corner towards the offices you spot Chris and Alcina talking in the hallway. Alcina is leaning up against the wall inspecting her fresh manicure, looking like she couldn't be more uninterested in whatever Chris was talking about if she tried.
When the sound of your shoes against the floor reaches her ears her eyes flick up towards you. A bright smile stretches across her lips and she pushes herself off of the wall and steps towards you.
Chris stops speaking mid-sentence and gives Alcina a look. She returns the look and says to him "I already told you you can go ahead with the project, I don't need you to continue to bore me with details that are irrelevant." before turning away.
"Good morning." You say.
"Good morning Kathleen. How was your weekend?"
"It was good, quiet but relaxing. How was yours?"
"Excellent. My weekend was busy, as usual, but pleasant."
Just as you go to speak you're interrupted by the sound of a door being slammed open in the tasting room. A second later a voice rings through the tasting room and down the hall.
"DELIVERY FOR HER HIGHNESS!"
Alcina's head snaps in the direction of the room, her eyes narrow and you hear a low growl rumble in her chest.
"If you'll excuse me." She says through gritted teeth. You notice a vein in her neck begin to pulse and she storms towards the noise.
"Oh this will be good." Chris says with a little excitement in his voice.
"What? What was that?"
"You're gonna want to see this." He says with a smile as he walks in the direction Alcina took off in. You drop your bag at your desk and head towards the direction Chris and Alcina went off to.
Alcina opens the doors to the tasting room and her vision turns red. Waltzing into the room is her brother, Karl, making his way towards the bar.
"Cassie, hook your uncle up will ya?" He says, taking a seat.
"Heisenberg." Alcina hisses.
"Ah, there she is!" He says as he puts his feet up on the bar.
Alcina smacks his feet off and glares down at him.
"Do you not have any manners?" She says as her eyes flash with rage.
"What? I'd think you'd be more appreciative that I worked so hard to finish whatever the hell it was you asked me to make."
You walk into the tasting room behind Chris and watch as Alcina stands next to a slightly disheveled man. He's wearing a stained t-shirt with baggy pants and boots. A hat, sunglasses, and a trench coat.
He goes to grab the drink that was set in front of him, ignoring the fact that Alcina is practically shaking with anger. He takes a long sip of the beer he was given and pulls out a cigar, sticking it between his chapped lips. As he goes to grab a lighter from his pocket, Alcina snatches the cigar from his mouth and breaks it in half, dumping it onto the counter in front of him.
"The fuck was that for?!"
"You cannot smoke in here!"
"You're such a fucking buzzkill." He mutters, rolling his eyes and taking another drink from the bottle. "Cassie I don't know how the fuck you put up with this shit every goddamn day."
Cassandra snickers and Alcina shoots daggers at her. Rolling her eyes at her mother, Cassandra turns around and continues putting away the glasses.
Karl finishes off his beer and lets out an obnoxiously loud burp. Alcina scrunches her face in disgust and wafts the air between them away from her.
"You are a truly vile human being." She says.
"Yeah, yeah, sorry I don't meet your standards, princess." He replies. "Hey Cass, get me another round will ya?" He says, slapping his hand down on the bar.
"Absolutely not." Alcina says. "I will not have you come in here, make a scene, drink all of our imported beers and pay not as much as a dime for them. Up! Go," she says, shooing him away from the bar. "get the table and get the hell out of my establishment!"
"Someone's in a great fuckin' mood this morning. What happened, woke up on the wrong side of your coffin?"
"Karl you are testing the very little patience I have left." She says through her teeth.
"Hah! You? Having patience? I didn't know you were a comedian."
Alcina squeezes her eyes shut and rubs at her temples as Karl gets up and starts to head towards the door. As he turns around he sees you and Chris standing near the door leading to the offices.
"Ho shit! If it ain't the fancy CFO himself!" Karl belts across the tasting room before meeting Chris halfway. "Howya doin' ya son of a bitch?" He says, shaking his hand.
"Karl my man!" Chris says. "I've been good, keepin' busy. How about yourself?"
"Hope slenderwoman hasn't been too rough on ya!" He says before laughing too loud, earning another eye roll from Alcina. "And not bad, not bad. Your boss here commissioned some kind of table from me so I'm just droppin' it off. Nice excuse to ruffle a few feathers too if you know what I mean." He says, nudging Chris in the ribs and laughing. "And who is this little lady here?" He says, looking over at you.
Not a second later you hear Alcina's heels stomping in your direction, looking up you see her eyes narrowed at the back of his head.
"I'm Katie, the new marketing and social media strategist."
"Karl Heisenberg," he says, taking your hand in his. "the pleasure is all mine." He gives you a small bow before kissing the back of your hand and letting it go.
The action took you by surprise a bit and you swore you saw steam come out of Alcina's ears as she walks up behind him. Karl lets your hand go and Alcina grabs him by the back of his jacket and begins to pull him away.
"Will you keep your filthy hands off of my staff? God only knows when the last time you washed them!" She hisses before whipping him around and pushing him towards the door. "Go!"
"What?! Is this how you treat family here?! What kind of establishment is this?!"
"One I will have you removed from if you don't get that table this instant!"
"Alright, alright! Don't get your panties in a twist. I'm going, I'm going!"
Alcina lets out a huff and brings her fingers to pinch the bridge of her nose. After gathering herself she turns back towards you and Chris and makes her way over.
"I do apologize for my little brother, he is quite feral."
"Ah come on Alci, he isn't so bad!" Chris says and Alcina shoots him a glare.
"I told you, do not call me that. And that man is insufferable at best." She turns towards you. "I do apologize for his behavior."
"Don't worry about it, really, it's okay." You say with a smile.
The doors open once more and you can hear Karl barking orders to the guys lugging the table in. Alcina physically cringes as they bang into the doorframe while trying to get it inside.
"Ay! Watch it! That table is worth more than what you get paid in a month!" Karl yells.
"If you will excuse me." Alcina says before making her way over to the men and directs them where to go.
Both you and Chris take that as your cue to leave so the two of you head back to your offices.
"Told ya you'd wanna see that." He says with a satisfied smirk.
"See what? Ms. Dimitrescu and her brother?"
"Yeah! I've never seen anyone else be able to get her riled up so easily. Just his presence is enough to make the woman lose her shit."
"I guess." You say
It aggravated you a little seeing Chris find so much enjoyment from watching Alcina get frustrated and riled up. If anything, you felt bad for the woman. Luckily you and your sister got along great but it would probably piss you off too if you had a sibling that was to blatantly rude and dismissive in your place of work. If anything it's probably as embarrassing as it is annoying.
The rest of the walk back to your office was quiet, much to your surprise Chris seemed to get the hint that you weren't in the mood to revel in Alcina's misery and didn't say anything else. When you sat down at your desk you finally able to get started on today's work.
A few minutes later you hear heels on the tiled floor and see Alcina walk past your office. She looked less than thrilled for the couple of seconds you were able to see her. The door to her office opens and a minute later you hear it close and she walks past you again. Thinking nothing of it, you dive back into answering emails.
Once your inbox was taken care of you go to check your to-do list to see what you needed to prioritize for the day. Digging through your bag you realize you must have left your notebook in the car so you grab your keys and head out the side door towards the parking lot.
As you open the door the smell of fresh air quickly changes into the smell of cigarette smoke. Looking over, you see Alcina leaning up against the brick wall with a cigarette perched between two fingers.
"Oh, sorry, I didn't know you were out here." You say as you close the door behind you.
"No need to apologize. Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, I just left my notebook in my car." You reply.
Alcina brings the cigarette to her perfectly painted red lips and takes a long drag before pulling it away. She turns her head away from you and exhales the smoke. Usually you found smoking to be unattractive but somehow every single thing this woman does is attractive as hell. You'd put money on the fact that she could shovel a pile of shit and still look good while doing it.
You make your way to your car and find your notebook on the floor of the passenger side. Walking back over to Alcina you notice her eyes are still on you.
"I didn't know you smoked." You say as you walk up to her and immediately wish you kept your mouth shut. Why would you say that? What a stupid thing to say.
Alcina chuckles as she takes another drag before exhaling again.
"Yes, it's truly a disgusting habit I've yet to break. I had been doing well, however, my brother certainly knows how to get under my skin."
"I get that, siblings definitely know how to rile each other up."
"He is a man-child. A petulant fool." She grumbles.
As you chuckle a van drives by and slows down. In the drivers seat you see Karl. He blares on his horn a few times as he drives by, causing both you and Alcina to jump. Your hands fly up to your ears and Alcina visibly winces at the noise.
"Nenorocitul acela." Alcina grumbles under her breath as she sticks her pinky in her ear. (That fucking moron).
She takes another drag from her cigarette and looks over at you.
"You said your daughter is starting daycare this week?"
Her question took you by surprise for a second, you definitely weren't expecting Alcina to remember that from the conversation you had last week.
"Yes! She starts tomorrow." You say with a smile that doesn't reach your eyes. Truthfully, you were excited that Emma was going to spend time with other children her age and be able to socialize more, but the thought of sending her to daycare also gave you a lot of anxiety.
Alcina notices your apprehension even though you hide it well in your voice. It brought her back to when the girls were little and she sent them off to daycare for the first time. Granted, it was more of a private school than daycare, but leaving the girls behind and going to work was still anxiety-inducing for her.
"Nervous?" She asks before taking another drag of her cigarette.
Knowing Alcina was asking about you, you decide to divert your answer.
"Oh Emma is really excited. She wasn't sure at first but as soon as she saw all of the toys they had she was thrilled. She was very upset that she wasn't able to stay the day we did the tour."
"I was asking about you." She said with a smile.
"Oh."
"I remember when I dropped the girls off at daycare for the first time. I think I cried more than they did." She says with a chuckle. You notice a faraway look in her eye as she thinks back on the memory.
Alcina walked down the large, ornate hallway with Cassandra's tiny had in hers. In Cassandra's other hand, Bela clung tightly to her. When they arrived to the classroom the girls' daycare teacher greeted them at the door.
"Good morning! You two must be Cassandra and Bela." She says with a warm smile.
Bela and Cassandra clung to each other tighter, staring between Alcina and their new teacher. Alcina bends down and runs her fingers through Cassandra's dark hair.
"Girls, do you remember your teacher? Ms. Jackson?"
Bela's blue eyes scan the room as she holds onto her sister.
"Eu vreau sa merg acasa." She says quietly as tears begin to fill her eyes. (I want to go home).
"It will only be for a little while, draga. I'll be back before you know it." Alcina says, turning both girls to face her. She wipes the tears from Bela's cheeks and shushes her. "Nu plânge, e în regulă draga mea." (Don't cry, it's alright my darling).
"Vreau să merg acasă, te rog." Bela says as her voice trembles. (I want to go home, please).
"How about you give it a try? I have to go to work, but then we will go back home and we can play with your toys." Alcina says.
"No!" Bela yells, taking Alcina by surprise. "Vreau să merg acasă la mami! O vreau pe mama mea!" She cries. (I want to go home to mommy! I want my mommy!).
Alcina can feel her heart breaking in her chest. Cassandra's eyes begin to fill with tears as she watches her big sister cry. Even though she's only a year younger than Bela, she still understands that so much has changed and that they're no longer with their mother.
"O vreau pe mama mea." Cassandra whimpers before she starts to cry as well. (I want my mommy).
Wrapping her arms around the two little girls, Alcina pulls them into her and they grab onto her shirt and jacket as they cry.
"Shh, shh. Nu plânge fetele mele dragi, nu plânge. Va fi bine, doar respira, totul va fi bine." She says softly as she rubs circles across their backs as she tries to soothe them. (Don't cry my sweet girls, don't cry. It's going to be alright, just breathe, everything is going to be alright).
Their small cries chip away at Alcina's already fragile heart. She squeezes her eyes shut, refusing to shed a tear, refusing to let the girls - or anyone else for that matter - see her cry.
After taking a few deep breaths, Alcina begins to quietly hum the girls' favorite lullaby. She may still be brand new to parenting, but the one thing she figured out that works was singing to the girls in their native language. It was one of the few things that have been able to calm them when they were upset or scared. Alcina's mother would sing it to her and her sister when they were young. One night when she was at her wits end, she began singing it for Bela and Cassandra and they immediately began to calm down. It's been her go-to ever since.
The girls finally stop crying and Alcina pulls away enough to look at the two of them. As heartbreaking as it was, she couldn't help but think of how cute they looked. Bela's blue eyes and Cassandra's hazel eyes always looked brighter after they cried. Even their flushed cheeks and runny noses made them look cute. Alcina cupped each of their faces and wiped away their tears before placing a kiss in the center of each of their foreheads.
The girls looked up at her and it was almost pitiful. So much of her wanted to just take them home but she had to go to work and she had to let them go. Taking both of their small hands into each of hers, she looked both girls in the eye.
"I know it's frightening, I know you girls are scared, but I am coming back. I promise, I will be back and we will all go home together, okay?" The both nodded at her as tears began to fill their eyes once more. "No more tears my darlings, alright? No more tears." She says as she wipes away the stray tears from their cheeks. "I need both of you to be brave? Okay? Bela, I need you to look after your sister, to be protect her, alright?" Bela looks at Cassandra and back at Alcina and nods. "Cassandra, I need you to look after your sister, to be brave for her, can you do that for me?" Cassandra wipes her nose and nods at Alcina.
She strokes their hair before pulling the girls back in for a tight hug.
"Vă iubesc, vă iubesc atât de mult fetelor. Mă întorc, promit dragilor mei. Mă voi întoarce după tine. Nu te voi lăsa." Alcina whispers to them before giving them one last squeeze and letting go. (I love you, I love you girls so much. I'm coming back, I promise my darlings. I'll come back for you. I will never leave you).
Alcina stands up and straightens out her shirt and jacket. She takes the girls hands in each of hers and guides them to their teacher. Ms. Jackson smiles down at the girls and points out all of the toys scattered around the room. Cassandra eyes a baby doll and another little girl picks it up. The girl sees Cassandra and walks over to her.
"Play?" The little girl asks.
Cassandra looks up at Alcina and Alcina smiles down at her.
"Go ahead darling, go play."
Cassandra hesitantly releases Alcina's hand and looks at Bela, reaching out towards her. Bela's grip on Alcina tightens and Alcina strokes her hair.
"It's alright love, go play with them."
Bela looks up at Alcina who nods. After contemplating for a moment, Bela takes Cassandra's hand and the three little girls make their way over to the rug and begin playing with the toys.
Alcina takes the opportunity while they are distracted to thank the teacher and leave before they see her again. With her heart still breaking in her chest, Alcina makes it to her car and starts the engine.
Before she can pull away, the floodgates open. She grips the steering wheel and rests her forehead against her hands as she cries. Different emotions bubble up, but the strongest one is anger.
She's angry that the girls were put through so much at such a young age. She's angry at how unfair the last few months have been for them. Angry at the situation she herself was put in.
Alcina slams her fist against the steering wheel before pulling herself together. She takes her makeup bag from her purse and fixes her makeup before taking one last deep breath and driving away.
You can see memories flash across Alcina's eyes, memories you know nothing about. But you can see the emotions in her eyes, worry, sadness, and anger. Alcina snaps out of it and takes another drag of her cigarette and exhales.
"It's certainly not easy," she says. "the first few times are the most difficult, but eventually they were so excited the girls didn't even say goodbye when they ran through the doors." She says with a laugh.
"I'm sure we'll get there, but like you said, the first few times are gonna be rough."
"I have no doubts that the two of you will do great." She says with a smile.
With one last drag of her cigarette, Alcina puts the butt into the cigarette receptacle.
"Shall we?" She asks, nodding towards the door.
"Oh! Yeah." You say sheepishly.
Alcina opens the door and holds it for you. "After you."
"Thank you." You say with a smile before the two of you head back in.
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