#is it possible to read a book again as if it’s the first time

[vanteguccir]

You belong with me | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N and Matt love each other, but don't seem to have the courage to declare themselves; OR, where Matt belongs to Y/N but can't seem to understand it.

Warning: Crying, unrequited love, angst (with a happy ending).

Requested?: Yes, by @freshsturns

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

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It was a typical fall morning in Boston, with golden leaves dancing in the wind and the fresh scent of coffee wafting through the air. Y/N walked down the familiar street, her steps synchronized with the rapid beat of her heart, her mind full of possibilities of how to break the news; she would spend three months at her father's house, as her mother needed to travel for work continuously during that short period.

Her eyes fell on the Sturniolo's house, where the triplets, Matt, Nick, and Chris, had lived since they were teenagers.

A mixture of feelings invaded her whenever she passed by.

She and the triplets have been inseparable since childhood. They grew up together, shared secrets, laughs, and unforgettable moments. But there was something deeper between Y/N and Matt, something she held deep in her heart and feared revealing.

Matt was the middle brother out of the three, with his dark hair and piercing dead blue eyes that seemed to read her soul. He was Y/N's confidant, the one with whom she shared her most intimate dreams and her deepest fears. But there was a secret she never dared to confess: her love for him.

As Y/N walked towards the Sturniolo's house, she felt her heart beating wildly. She knew she would see Matt soon, and that thought made her nervous and excited at the same time. They saw each other every day, but each meeting was like a new chapter in an endless book.

Upon entering the cozy home, Y/N was greeted with warm smiles and affectionate hugs from Jimmy and Mary Lou. Matt, with his captivating gaze and worn-out jeans, stared at her eyes for a brief moment. A shiver ran down Y/N's spine, but she quickly looked away, fearing he might read her feelings in her gaze.

Throughout that day, Y/N and Matt shared conversations like they always did while spending time together, lost in their own bubble of happiness. The sound of their laughter echoed through the cold streets, filling the air with a contagious energy, enjoying the last minutes together before the girl had to go far away.

Matt's hair was messed up by the wind, attracting her attention, who glanced at him, lost in her thoughts. She wondered if he could hear her frantic heartbeat every time he smiled when his hair got in his mouth.

But there was a palpable tension between the two, an invisible elephant in the room that neither dared to address.

At night, when Y/N finally returned home, she sat on her bed and let the tears fall silently while preparing herself to pack her bags. She wondered if she would ever have the courage to confess her feelings to Matt or if she would continue hiding them forever.

Meanwhile, across the street, Matt was lying in his own bed, lost in thoughts about Y/N. He wondered if she could ever feel the same way about him. If she could look at him with the same love-filled eyes that he always cast her way. But the fear of ruining their friendship prevented him from taking any action.

Thus, the two friends remained trapped in a painful impasse, their hearts connected by invisible strings that neither of them dared to break.

Y/N hoped that the next three months would do something good for her.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Time had passed too fast, and soon, Y/N was back in Boston. The sun shone high in the summer sky as the girl left her house that morning, leaving her unopened suitcase to organize later, the birds chirped happily along with the frantic beats of her heart, yearning to see her best friends again.

For some reason, she knew something was different, that something had changed, but she wasn't prepared for what she would find when she met with him that afternoon.

Upon arriving at the brothers' house, Y/N was greeted by a strange silence, even with the cheerful voice of Mary Lou - who greeted her happily at the front door.

Y/N quickly found Matt sitting on the couch, next to a blonde girl, with long straight hair and an artificial smile on her lips. She was the complete opposite of Y/N in every possible way.

She felt a pang of discomfort when she saw Matt so close to that girl, her heart clenching when she noticed the brunette's arm around her shoulders, knowing the inevitable; Matt had met his perfect - or not - match.

She tried to push those feelings away and tried to convince herself that she was happy for him, but the truth was that a wave of sadness washed over her and found home in her heart.

Matt's new girlfriend, who introduced herself as Tiffany, looked at Y/N with a look of superiority, as if she was sizing her up and down. She emanated an aura of arrogance and pretension that made Y/N feel out of place and inadequate almost instantly.

Her slender and tall body was shaped by a mini skirt and a tank top that hugged her tiny waist perfectly, her feet covered in sparkling high heels - too much for a normal day in Boston -, Y/N feeling suddenly uncomfortable about the large t-shirt that covered her entire upper body.

As she watched Matt and Tiffany together, Y/N felt a tumultuous mix of emotions. The sounds of the video game coming from the television and Nick and Chris' excited screams echoing muffledly into her ears as she noticed how Matt hadn't looked directly at her eyes, not even once.

She wondered if he had really forgotten her so easily, if their friendship no longer meant anything to him. She felt betrayed and abandoned, as if a piece of her heart had been ripped out without warning.

As the day progressed, Y/N tried to keep herself occupied with the other two brothers, trying to push away the painful thoughts that threatened to consume her. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the vision of Matt and Tiffany together, acting like they were the perfect couple.

She was so different from what Y/N imagined Matt's type to be.

When it was finally time to go home, Y/N said goodbye to Matt with a forced smile on her lips. She tried to hide the pain in her eyes, trying to appear indifferent to the fact that he had found someone new. But deep down, she knew that it had changed everything between them both, and nothing would ever be the same as it was.

As she walked home, Y/N felt tears streaming down her face. She felt lost and confused, not knowing how to deal with the new reality that was opening up before her.

She wondered if Matt would ever see that she was the right girl for him, that he belonged with her.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The restaurant was buzzing with the sound of excited voices and cutlery clattering against plates. Matt, Y/N, Nick, and Chris were sitting at a table in the corner, enjoying a quiet lunch together after weeks of not hanging out as a group.

"Matt, can we talk?" Y/N began as she noticed Chris and Nick immersed in a random topic. Her voice was soft but filled with concern, her eyes trying to decipher the storm of emotions that seemed to cross the brunette's face.

"Of course, Y/N. What do you want to talk about?" Matt nodded, his gaze meeting hers momentarily, before lowering it back to his plate, a fake smile resting on his face.

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to express what she was feeling.

"I couldn't help but notice how things have changed between us lately. Ever since you started... dating Tiffany, it seems like we're more distant."

"I know, Y/N. I'm sorry that I've been distant. It's just... Tiffany is complicated. She's very different from... Well, it doesn't matter." Matt spoke in a low tone, looking embarrassed as his hands nervously played with the metal cutlery.

Before Y/N could respond, Matt's phone started ringing, interrupting the conversation, and catching the attention of Nick and Chris, who stopped what they were saying and looked at them with interest. Matt huffed out an apology before looking at his cell screen, frowning as he read Tiffany's flashing name.

"Sorry, Y/N. I really need to take this." Matt said, quickly getting up from the table and taking a few steps away to answer the call, ignoring the worried looks his brothers were sending him.

Y/N watched as Matt spoke on the phone, his face tense and worried. She could hear Tiffany's muffled screams on the other end of the line, and a knot formed in her stomach as she realized the argument was about her, her name escaping the boy's lips more times than expected.

She could feel Nick and Chris's gazes burning into the side of her head, and she knew they wanted to say something, but her attention was too focused on Matt to try and get information out of the pair.

As the argument continued, Y/N observed in detail Matt's reactions, the lines of tension on his t the clenched fists at his side. She could feel the anguish he was experiencing.

When Matt finally hung up the phone, he returned to the table with a tired look in his eyes, his teeth biting down hard on his bottom lip, as if he was in an internal struggle between what to do and what not to do. He looked at Y/N, as if he was about to say something, but then looked away, unable to find the words.

Y/N quickly reached out to touch his hand, a small show of silent support, a frown full of worry taking her expression.

"Matt, hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I just..." Matt nodded, a weak smile playing on his lips, the same one that Y/N saw every day since he started dating Tiffany, but so different from the one that was directed to her three months before. "I just need to sort some things out with Tiffany." He cleared his throat quickly, tearing his eyes away from her and focusing them on his brothers. "Can you guys keep going without me? I really need to go."

"If I say no, it won't change what you think, so do whatever you want, Matt." Chris shrugged, his gaze rigid like never seen before by Y/N.

She tried to meet Nick's eyes, searching for some kind of explanation, but all she saw was sadness and worry.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Night was falling over Boston when Matt left Tiffany's house, his heart heavy and his mind turbulent. The rain, like a perfect background actor, fell in torrents, mixing with the tears that ran down his face as he walked aimlessly through the wet streets, having left his car in the hands of Chris - the one who knew most about driving after himself.

The boy allowed his feet to take him where they wanted to go, his vision blurred, and his mind too confused to decide anything at that moment, his heart screaming for refuge.

And that's how he found himself standing in front of Y/N's house, his safe haven in the midst of the storm that had been his life since he could remember.

With a heavy heart, the brunette walked to the side wall outside of the two-story house, his blue eyes only seeing the window that he already knew very well. Agilely, Matt quickly climbed the expanse of concrete, the lighting from the girl's room helping and guiding him.

The sound of light knocks against the closed glass echoed through the room, and it was and understandment to say that Y/N was surprised to see Matt outside her room, hanging from her window, drenched from the rain and with eyes red from crying.

The girl quickly shot up from her seat on her pretty made-up bed, running towards him and opening the window in seconds, her hands working on pulling him inside the cozy and warm room, wrapping him in a comforting hug, ignoring the feeling of his wet clothes against her dry and warm pajamas.

"Matt, what happened? Why are you here like this? What...?" Y/N asked frantically, worried. She pulled back a few inches, rubbing her left hand over Matt's cold arm, while her right worked on brushing away the soggy strands of hair that stuck to his forehead and cheeks.

"I broke up with Tiffany." His voice sounded choked and hoarse from crying, his lips trembling without a pause. "I finally realized how toxic she was being, and I couldn't go on like this anymore. I didn't-" A sob broke through his throat, his eyes closing tightly as his hands gripped Y/N's bent elbow, seeking some stability.

Y/N watched him with compassion, stroking the cold skin of his face gently with the tip of her right fingers. She felt like screaming from seeing him in such a state, her heart hurting as if someone was squeezing it with their bare hands.

She wondered how he couldn't see that she was the right one for him, not Tiffany. She knew all his favorite songs, the movies he loved, the places he dreamed of visiting. She was the only one who truly understood him, who knew his deepest dreams, fears, and hopes.

Over the years, Y/N has been by Matt's side through every important moment in his life. She watched him grow, face challenges, and overcome obstacles. She was the person he went to in the middle of the night when he needed someone to talk to, the voice that made him laugh when he was about to cry.

And yet, even with all this intimacy and deep connection, Matt didn't seem to realize what was right in front of him. He continued to seek love and validation elsewhere, ignoring the fact that Y/N was always there, waiting for him with an open heart.

And because of that, he got hurt. Again.

"Oh darling, I'm so sorry. Come here, sweet boy." Y/N asked in a gentle whisper, guiding him to her bed in slow steps.

"N-no, I'm going to wet your whole bed." Matt muttered between sniffles, his right hand gripping her arm gently while his left one rubbed his eyes angrily, trying to stop the tears from continuing to flow.

"It's okay, I don't mind, honey." The girl insisted, helping him sit on the edge of the mattress next to her pillow while moving his hand away from his face, preventing him from hurting himself. "Stay here, I'll go get a towel. I think I still have some of your clothes too."

While Matt vented between sobs about his problematic relationship with Tiffany, Y/N listened attentively, moving around the room behind her hairdryer, clean towels and pieces of clothing that the brunette had left there when he visited her house.

She could feel the pain and anguish he was feeling, and she was determined to be there for him, no matter how much her heart burned to see him suffer for another girl.

The girl quickly found everything she needed, beginning the task of wiping Matt's wet, dark hair with the fluffy towel and wiping away the raindrops from his skin, her body standing stiffly between the boy's legs, being careful not to cross any barrier he had placed between the two of them.

As Matt spoke and Y/N advised him, she could feel his blue eyes fixed on her face, his hands too close to her legs as she finished drying him, feeling her cheeks burn like fire, knowing for sure that they were as red as the color itself.

"Y/N, there's something I need to tell you." Matt whispered, his tone low - as if he didn't want to burst the bubble that seemed to surround them - but still echoing throughout the room with force. "I only started dating Tiffany because... because I was trying to get you out of my mind."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her hands stopping their movements abruptly, the wet towel feeling heavy on her skin. The girl stared at the wall behind Matt for a few seconds, processing what he had said before finally looking at him, all the words caught in her throat as tears glistened in her eyes.

What?

"I know it was wrong, and I'm so sorry." Matt continued, his voice strained as his eyes seemed to search hers desperately. “But I realized that no matter how hard I tried, I could never forget you. Because... because I love you, Y/N. Since the first day I met you, I have loved you. Every time I close my eyes, it's your face that I see. You're always in my thoughts, in my dreams, everywhere, and nothing I tried could make you disappear."

Y/N's heart raced in her chest a mile a minute as Matt's words echoed in her mind. An overwhelming mix of happiness and relief filling her veins at finally hearing the words she had waited for so many years.

"Matt, this is..." Y/N shook her head as an easy smile spread across her face automatically. "I love you too." She confessed, her voice almost a whisper, lowering her face, her eyes finally meeting his electrifying ones, feeling as if they were piercing her soul, which now, exposed, no longer had a barrier to hide her true feelings. "I love you more than I ever thought possible to love anyone."

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I'm SO sorry if this ended up being a little rushed or too fast, I don't write series, and I tried to make everything happen in only one fic. I'm sorry if it didn't turn out how you'd like it ;(

My requests are open! Please read my rules before sending anything ♡

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

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[ktaerssoi]

cheering for us

summary: cheering through an oddly hard game for kate.

kate martin x cheerleader!reader

(619)

as soon as first quarter had started you saw kate falter a little, something was off today. she was playing well, yes, but not nearly as well as usual. not only had kate herself realized, but the coaches and commentators as well.

you could tell she was overthinking in her head, she had tried to block someone but ended up almost tripping instead. you knew she wasn't going to have fun talking to the coaches, and really wanted nothing more then to just talk to her and let her know that this game doesn't define her career.

-

at halftime you and the cheer team were to do a routine you guys had been practicing, and you guys had done it quite successfully. Iowa was down by 7, but after the little performance spirit seemed to be high.

before you returned to you spot by the side of the court you had an opportunity to talk to kate. "hey, k, you're doing good okay? this game isn't the end of the world anyway, just relax okay?" she nodded at your words and tried to shake out some tension as she watched you walk away

-

the game had ended with Iowa winning by 12 points, kate scored a 3-pointer in the fourth quarter. you guys were on your way back to your guys' apartment when she brought up her early performance.

"y/n you have to admit i wasn't doing good in the first half," she turned to you for a second, before quickly focusing back on the road. "kate im not going to lie to you and tell you were doing bad." you shook your head, a smile on your face as your arm rested on the inside of the car door.

"but you wouldn't be lying!" kate was smiling, her mood had improved from half time, clearly. "okay well even if you were doing bad, what do you think caused it? reflect on that if you really want to improve."

"so you do think i could improve!" she rolls her eyes as we pull into the complex building's car park. "but i think it was probably you and that other girl on the cheerleading team." you narrow your eyes, confused what she meant.

"what other girl?" you asked as you guys rounded the back of the car to grab your bags from the trunk and bring your stuff upstairs. "the one with the blonde hair, you were like, dying laughing at something she said. i was jealous." she shrugged, and you were a little stunned.

"kate, babe, that girl was telling me about some story about her boyfriend. trust me we are not like that." you smile a little as the tips of her ears go red with embarrassment. "oh,"

-

the two of you were on the couch watching some sports thing, your head resting on kate's shoulder as you read a book.

a commercial break comes on, and kate lets out a little sigh, shifting under you. "can we talk about how good that halftime routine was? seriously, you looked so good babe." you smiled a little, trying to hide your flustered state.

you put you book down, moving over even more, trying to get as close as possible. "you looked pretty good out there two k, i mean seriously, i was struggling to focus." you smirked as you saw her face goes pinkish again, you sit up a little, kissing her cheek quickly.

"you seriously need to get a headband or something, those flyaways are not flattering." you smile, leaning back as you listen to kate's defense for why she can't wear a headband for the 37th time.

"it messes up the look"

okay caht its offical, i hate everything i write and im quitting 🥰🥰 jk i wish..actually though i suck at writing for requests like this is actually SO FLIPPING BAD IM SOBBING. its also 3pm and the brownies r bomb. anyway, not proofreade dont come for me! also this was weird to write because my name is - kate (see what i did?)

#wcbb #caitlin clark #paige bueckers #kate martin #kate martin x reader #iowa hawkeyes #iowa wbb #i love kate martin #wlw

[nicksbestie]

Nooks And Crannies - M. Sturniolo

a series

part two (read part one here)

Summary : You always seem to be somewhere in the bookstore Matt works at, never buying anything, just reading, and while Matt is technically not supposed to talk to customers for so long while he's on the clock, he can't help himself.

Warnings : none yet!

Word Count : 1134

Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

A/N : introduction of the reader's point of view!! i'm going to try to avoid the use of y/n as long as possible, don't hate me if it gets thrown in every now and again though! sometimes it's unavoidable <3 enjoy!

You had just moved to a new city, where you didn’t know anything, or more importantly, anyone.

You were so excited for the change of pace. While you were a person who absolutely hated change, sometimes, when it is desperately needed, it can really spin your world upside down, and you previously hated being right side up. After moving in last week, you had spent nearly twenty four hours out of every single day unpacking and trying to set up your apartment so it really felt like home. You were feeling cramped, and you knew that you absolutely had to get out and do something. So, you were walking the downtown streets, loving the fact that this city was walkable, and really just exploring. 

You were getting fresh air, and learning your new surroundings, familiarizing yourself with what was around you. You made a mental list of all of the places that you wanted or needed to visit. You were coming out of a furniture store when you spotted the cutest building on the corner, vines encasing the roof and coming down around the windows. It looked absolutely beautiful, and you wondered if the name of the shop had been named for the plants hanging on it, or if they had been planted to match the name of the shop, as engraved in the stone read “The Ivy”. The paint on the window said “Bookstore and Coffee Shop”, and below were their hours. 

It was only the middle of the day, so you knew that they were still open, and you pushed the door open. A gentle ringing went through the shop as the small silver bell above the door told people that there was a new person coming into the store. You saw the cashier glance over to see who had come in, flashing you a gentle smile before returning to the person that he was checking out. You smiled back, immediately feeling welcomed in the shop as you looked around, noticing just how cozy it was. One of your first thoughts was that you would love to get a job here. You had your rent paid through the first month, and you still had your old job, as it was a virtual, and flexible career, but just in case things went awry, you would love to work at this adorable store.

You went over to the coffee shop first, ordered something to drink, and once you got it, began walking through the aisles, picking up book after book, stacking them in your arms. You didn’t have a luxurious amount of money to spend, even though your job did pay you well enough to be comfortable, so you loved to go sit at bookshops and read for hours there when you had time. That was exactly what you planned to do today, since you didn’t have to be home for a couple of hours. You were looking around the shop, in the back corner, when you noticed the same worker who had been working the cash register now stocking shelves, and reading one of the synopsis on the books. He didn’t notice you, and you didn’t try to catch his attention, simply taking note of the fact that he was there. 

You moved into another aisle, running your hand along the books on the shelf before the tips of your fingers hit something metallic. You wrapped your hand around it, tugging it forward, but it didn’t move. You couldn’t see exactly what it was, as it was inside the inner corner of the shelf and the shadow made it a bit difficult to make out the shape. Thinking that maybe it was stuck on something, you pulled to the side, planning on pulling forward next, but the entire bookshelf moved. It wasn’t loud, the bookends holding the books tight and still so they didn’t fall off, and the bookshelf shifted to the right. You noticed light coming out from the small break in the shelves, and you realized the thing you had pulled on was a handle. You admired how silently the bookshelf slid, and since it wasn’t locked closed, you opened it more, going into the tiny room behind it.

There wasn’t a massive space behind these bookshelves, but there were two big bean bag chairs next to a small table, carpeted with a colorful rug, and all of the bookshelves were double sided. You set your books down next to the chair, on the floor, setting your coffee down on the small table between both chairs. You didn’t want to risk knocking it over onto the books since you hadn’t bought them. You noticed there was a small throw blanket sitting in the other bean bag, and you sat down on the comfortable chair, setting the blanket over your legs, before taking a drink of your coffee and picking up the first book on your stack. You fell into the story, completely losing track of time as you turned page after page.

You had no idea how long you had been sitting there, but just after you picked up your second book, completely fascinated with the synopsis of it and dying to read it, you heard the bookshelf slide open and a person step in, immediately turning his back to you, clearly having not noticed your presence yet. He turned around, and you immediately recognized him as the employee from earlier, and his cheeks tinged slightly red as he recognized that there was someone else in the room.

“Oh. You’re… in here.” 

You set your book down, beginning to feel like maybe you were somewhere that you shouldn’t be, and you stacked up your stuff, moving to stand.

“Should I not be? I’m sorry, it wasn’t locked, so I thought-” 

You were cut off by him shaking his head and speaking.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong, I just… never see anyone in here.”

Relaxing back into the chair, you thought about his words.

“Really? Nobody? It’s amazing back here, you’d think it would be crowded.”

He shook his head again, having his back turned to you again as he picked a book off of the shelf.

“No. Most people can’t figure out how to open the shelf, they think the handle is decorative. So I come in here to take my break.” 

“Oh, well I can leave! I don’t want to cramp your space.” 

He turned back around with the book, sitting down, taking the name tag off of his shirt and setting it next to your coffee. It read “Matt”. He saw you looking at it, and spoke again. 

“I’d tell you my name, but you’re reading it, so.” 

You smiled, laughing a little, introducing yourself, and he smiled back. 

“My break is only thirty minutes. You should stay.”

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[afterglowkatie]

vulnerable | c.f.

caitlin foord x reader | 1.9k | you didn't realise how much caitlin meant to you until a missed opportunity to be vulnerable pushes her away for good

ˏˋ°•*⁀pure angst with no happy ending for reader :) also reader has like negative self thoughts and definitely not a stable mental health and not great childhood (mentions parents not being good parents etc). arsenal/matildas!reader :)

‘You can’t keep shutting me out,’ Caitlin threw her hands up, frustrated to be having this conversation with you yet again, ‘We’re meant to be partners, we’re supposed to be able to communicate about things like this,’ her voice was shaky and started to fade away while she spoke to you. All Caitlin wanted was for you to listen to her, to listen and to see some change in your actions. Though every time she felt like her words just fell on deaf ears. 

‘Cait, I’m not shutting you out,’ You sighed. You sounded more like you were trying to convince yourself of that instead of your girlfriend. For the first time since you both arrived back at your apartment you looked up at Caitlin. You couldn’t help but feel a wave of guilt knowing you were the cause of her bloodshot eyes, holding back tears that threatened to fall at any moment. 

‘Bullshit,’ You looked away from her. The worst part of it all was that Caitlin could read you like you were an open book. That’s what years of friendship does. All throughout youth camps you had been each other's rock, always leaning on each other becoming almost inseparable when you were younger until the lines of friendship blurred into something more. So it’s not a surprise when she’s able to call you out on this.

It’s not entirely your fault for the way you are, at least that’s what you like to tell yourself instead of being responsible for the consequences of your actions. Your childhood was fine until it wasn’t. Until your parents' marriage broke down when you were little and all the love they held for each other turned into anger and hatred. Anger and hatred that eventually seeped into the way they treated you. They stopped showing their love towards you, not even able to recall the last time they uttered the words ‘I love you’ to you or hugged you or any ounce of affection.

At a young age you started to feel like a monster that wasn’t able to be loved. You just wanted to be good enough to be loved, but you convinced yourself that you weren’t. You weren’t good enough but maybe you could try to be. So you masked the pain throughout your teenage years and into early adulthood and gave your teammates and friends the love that you longed to receive. 

Though you never really did let anyone in enough, afraid they would be able to undo years and years of masking and see the real you and then deciding to get rid of you. But that’s exactly what Cailtin had done. You didn’t plan on falling in love with anyone, especially not your best friend. You hadn’t told her much about your parents or childhood, nothing specific at least. No one, not even Caitlin knew how your parents treated you or these dark thoughts about yourself that plagued your mind.

You confided in Beth when you realised you and Caitlin had fallen for each other, afraid of what to do. Though she convinced you it was okay to let someone in enough to love you like you deserved to be loved. Trying to allow that for yourself, everything had seemed fine in the beginning of your relationship with Caitlin. But you couldn’t help the voice in the back of your head reminding you of your childhood. Reminding you that your own parents couldn’t love you so how did you expect that someone like Caitlin could possibly love you.

You knew it wasn’t an excuse but you also didn’t know how to get rid of that voice, you didn’t know how to ask for help. So you left it to grow louder causing you to continuously shut Caitlin out, despite what you actually wanted. In the start Caitlin thought you were opening up to her, that she was learning more about you things that she wouldn’t have known by being just your friend. Though she was quick to learn that you had mastered the art of seeming like you were being vulnerable without actually telling her anything too personal.

This wasn’t the first time she had confronted you about this. Each time you promised her that you would try harder, assuring her that your relationship was important enough that you could work through whatever it was that had you shutting Caitlin out and pushing her away. You had been trying, you wish how much you could actually tell Caitlin that you were trying, wanting her to be able to see through you and notice your silent struggle and plea for help. You just couldn’t find the voice to do that. 

‘I can’t do this anymore,’ Caitlin broke the silence. Her voice was barely above that of a whisper but it was still loud enough to be heard between the both of you. Caitlin thought you had been making progress with her but she had instead lying to herself and trying to see something that you just weren’t doing. The love she held for you had made her start to see things in you that weren’t there. By being in love with you Caitlin was hurting herself. It pained you to see the person you love the most being affected by your actions. Even as you were about to lose Caitlin you still couldn’t break free from your mind, instead you held back your own tears, face emotionless while you tried to believe that this would be for the best. 

Caitlin stared at you, tears freely falling down her face, she shook her head. She couldn’t believe she had let herself be put in this situation. With you of all people, the one person she trusted the most. Caitlin had always been the one to love the other more, so when it came to you she really thought everything was going to be different, but when it wasn’t it hurt her so much more. You not loving her back in the way that Caitlin needed you to was slowly pulling her apart. The anger was slowly rising inside herself, more angry at herself than you, ‘You’re pathetic, a coward. You can’t even look at me, did you even love me?’

Caitlin couldn’t help but voice every thought that was racing through her mind. It was the only way she could keep herself grounded instead of spiralling from the disbelief that you weren’t even willing to fight for her, for your relationship.

‘Cait-’

‘No,’ Caitlin cut you off, turning her head away from you, ‘I don’t want to hear the answer. We’re over. I can’t believe I’m saying that,’ The anger subsided and her voice fading back into an almost whisper with a slight rasp from crying, ‘I put all my trust, all of my heart into this relationship and you’re just going to let it go. This isn’t just a year of a relationship but years of friendship you’re letting go of. Do you even realise that? Do you even care because you don’t seem to,’ When you turned your head away from Caitlin and back to the ground did the realisation flood her face. Never trying to speak or deny what she was saying, Caitlin took it as though you were admitting to everything she was saying. 

It wasn’t until Caitlin walked out of your apartment that you let yourself break. Falling to the ground, knees to your chest whispering out everything you wanted to say to her. Everything you wished you could have told her. Everything you never allowed anyone but yourself to hear.

It wasn’t a surprise that Caitlin avoided you where she could. It wasn’t always possible with training and the games so to make things easier on her, you had negotiated so that you could take some time away from arsenal. With the acl squad having returned to the pitch no one could deny that you weren’t needed, allowing you to take this time away from the club. 

You stayed in your apartment, wallowing in your own self pity. Some of your teammates had tried to reach out and see what was going on, having noticed you weren’t showing up to training or being put on the match day roster. Since the club was vague they tried to talk to you first. Though you dismissed their concerns saying you were fine and leaving it at that. Cailtin had told the team of the breakup when talks and rumours regarding you started floating around the team. She left out most of the details so now you were left with getting messages asking how you were holding up and if you were okay.

The messages only fueled your mind, fueled the self pity you had decided to wallow in. Only being able to see all the times you broke Caitlin’s heart and realising how miserable you had made the one person you loved the most. Trying to not be anything like your parents you had only found yourself acting just like they had.

This lasted a while, even when you went back to training you kept your eyes down and barely interacted with anyone. Though one day during the off-season it was like your mind had cleared and you realised just how much you missed Caitlin. All you had been thinking about for the last month was how much you missed different aspects about her. You missed the way she would talk to you for hours on any little thing that came into her mind. You missed the way she would always try to make you laugh and smile doing silly tricks with the ball. You missed the way her eyes softened as she smiled.

You knew the team was gathering at this bar tonight, not far from your apartment. You hadn’t gone out with them in a little while and you did miss spending time with everyone, even if you had one objective for tonight it would still be fun to see them all. What Caitlin had said about you was right, but now you wanted to prove to her that you could give her what she needed without being afraid.

Greeting the team when you arrived, you were too focused on finding the one familiar face you wanted to see, that you missed the sad smile Beth had greeted you with. Subtly trying to find Caitlin’s face amongst the team, you had turned your head away from the group when you saw them together. Caitlin and Katie, sitting a little bit away from the rest and a bit too close to just be friendly. The more you pushed Caitlin away you didn’t realise you had pushed her into the arms of someone else.

Beth pushed a drink into your hand and grabbed you to sit with them, trying to focus on the conversation that was floating around you. But you were only focused on them. Engaging in conversations where you could so it wasn’t obvious. You watched them from afar, Caitlin’s head thrown back, her laugh drowning out any other sound in that bar. Your heart ached, watching what could’ve been you and Caitlin if you had allowed yourself to be vulnerable that day instead of letting her walk out of your apartment. 

So you drank more than you should’ve that night, Beth and Viv helping you to their place wanting to keep an eye on you. Beating yourself up with how easy everything you should’ve done seemed now that you knew there wasn’t ever going to be a second chance with Caitlin. 

It was bittersweet. Every time you saw Caitlin and Katie together from that moment in the bar, thinking how it could be you in place of Katie. Being the one to make her smile and laugh the way she did. But it wasn’t and that was something you had to live with. Though you were glad. Glad that Caitlin had found someone who could give her everything you couldn’t.

#caitlin foord #caitlin foord x reader #caitlin foord x you #awfc #arsenal #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #woso soccer #woso x reader #woso community #auswnt #matildas

[sailorholly]

Between Us Pt. 6

Summary: You and Spencer had a casual relationship. A misunderstanding ruins it all.

Pairing: Spencer Reid × F. BAU Reader

Warnings: Friends with benefits. Angst. Pregnancy.

A/N: For all of you who wanted an Ashley confrontation, it’s coming next week! 👀🤭

See my Masterlist Here

Part Five

Ashley did not take the news well. Her jealousy reared its ugly head causing her to lash out. Spencer explained that if she wanted to continue their relationship, she needed to understand that you were always going to be a huge part of his life. He wouldn’t tolerate any disrespect towards you.

She seemed to calm down after that, until Spencer told her he would be living with you for two months, possibly three, after the baby was born. Ashley was extremely jealous of you and it showed. But Spencer wouldn’t let her push him away from you. He was still unsure about whatever this was with Ashley.

She liked him that was for sure. But he didn’t feel like that about her. He was sure his feelings would kick in at some point, like they had with you. It had been a long time coming with you. What started off as friendship quickly turned into a sexual relationship. Then he fell for you. He hadn’t realized until the end of it. Then it was too late. He fell so hard that he had to end it before you hurt him. So he was waiting for things to be like that with Ashley.

The day of your first ultrasound came, you were so excited to finally see the tiny bean growing inside you. Hotch gave you and Spencer the day off for your appointment. Spencer took you to your favorite restaurant for lunch. You were going to look for cribs after the ultrasound.

When they finally called your name, you and Spencer jumped up excitedly. You changed into the gown they laid out, waiting for the ultrasound tech to come in. She introduced herself as Nora. She explained what to expect today. She got her equipment out, telling you that for the first ultrasound, they actually put the instrument inside you, instead of on your stomach.

It wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. When you saw the black and grey picture come into focus, the little blob on the screen she indicated was your baby, you burst into tears. Spencer’s eyes were watery too. She let you hear the heartbeat for the first time, and you both were instantly in love.

Nora said everything looked great and she printed off copies of the ultrasound. You clutched them to your chest as you and Spencer made your next appointment. When you got to the car, you looked at them over and over again.

You spent the whole car ride to the store talking about who you thought the baby would look like, if it was a boy or a girl. Spencer ran through the probability of it having his traits or yours. You picked out a crib for your apartment. He had looked at every one carefully reading the safety stats. Spencer couldn’t wait to get it home and assemble it.

You were going to spend next weekend cleaning out your spare room. After shopping, you and Spencer watched a movie and ordered take out. When you fell asleep, head in his lap, your hair splayed out in all directions, he knew it would never work with Ashley.

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @spenciesprincess @kimm4710 @tmilover1993 @nomajdetective @cynbx @comboboo @134340ona @wannabewolf @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck @lover-of-books-and-tea @maybe-not-this @drewsandsebastianswife @lamentis-10 @lizzyk137 @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @rosylnsworld @amortencjja @ah-blossom @dreamsarebig @khxna @diasnohibng @nommingonfood @sp3ncelle @pleasantwitchgarden @isakslilsmile @lavvylove @creaming4daddy @justdianaz @aubs444 @im-this-girl @xblueriddlex @spencerreidsgf420 @witchsbitchestime @lovelyygirl8 @chonkybonky @prentissesredtanktop @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @ilikw

[sage-nebula]

WatcherTV Debrief

I said I was going to write down all of my thoughts yesterday, but I was simply too tired after work. So I'm going to do so now, in a post that is likely going to be very long, but hopefully will still be worth the read for some of you anyway.

TL;DR: I believe this is a very poor decision on Watcher Entertainment's part and it is at the very least going to cost them a huge swath of their fanbase, if not their entire company in the long run. And at this point in time, I myself will not be subscribing.

With that said though, I don't want this post to merely be a rant about how much I dislike the decision, so I'm going to start off by looking at things from their perspective and explaining why, although some people in the fanbase might feel betrayed, none of the three (yes, three, because Steven, Ryan, and Shane were all equal parts of this decision) personally betrayed anyone in the fandom. If you're still angry, I understand that seeing what might seem like a "defense" might be upsetting, but again, I hope you'll find some value in it regardless.

All of that said, that plus my extensive criticism of this decision is going to be long, so let's go beneath a cut.

First, let us state the obvious: Watcher Entertainment is a media company -- a business -- and Shane Madej, Ryan Bergara, and Steven Lim are not your friends. They are business owners first, and media producers + actors second.

I italicized actors to draw attention to it, because this is something that I think gets . . . not forgotten, per se, but pushed aside in people's minds when they consume video content online, particularly when that video content is on YouTube, which originally began as a point and shoot video upload website that was meant to give anyone and everyone the ability to upload their vlogs or silly little videos. The term "parasocial relationships" is one that has proliferated across the internet, but I think the issue here -- with Shane and Ryan in particular -- is not only that people are thinking of them as "friends," but also that they are thinking, "These are their authentic selves, this is who they really are, I know them." And the fact of the matter is, that isn't true. Shane and Ryan are actors. What we see in their videos isn't their authentic selves. We don't know them.

Now, that isn't to say that it's all a lie. It isn't quite the same as, say, Ryan Gosling or Leo DiCaprio playing a role in a film. But every internet celebrity (and that is what they are at this point) presents themselves in a particular way to their audience. Even in the Pod Watcher podcast, where ostensibly they're having Just Friendly Conversations About Whatever's On Their Minds, they're mindful of the fact that their audience is listening, their audience is judging, their audience is making gifs and fanart of moments they like. They're acting. They're playing up personas to keep fans engaged, to keep fans coming back for more.

So Shane and Ryan (and Steven, when he can be) are actors. You don't know their true authentic selves, and you never have. Anything they say has to be taken with a grain of salt, because they are saying what they want you to hear. Even their live shows are rehearsed. And what this means -- that they only show you what they want to show you -- is that they did not betray you, because they couldn't betray you. They don't know you, just like you don't know them. Betrayal is not possible here.

To that end, Watcher Entertainment is a media company -- in other words, a business. And businesses must generate not only revenue, but profit in order to stay afloat. Now, I don't know what Watcher's financial books look like right now. I have seen people throwing around a lot of numbers about what they have to make from Patreon, from ticket and merchandise sales, et cetera, but without looking at the expense reports, the bank statements, and the budget sheets, it's difficult for any of us to say just what state Watcher is in financially. We can guess, but that's the best we can do.

That said though, we don't have to guess to know the very basic principle of running a business. A business has to, at the bare minimum, break even. Ideally, the business would profit, so that they can not only do things like pay their employees fairly, but also so that they can expand and grow. Any business requires money in order to make product, whether that product is food, an item that you can purchase, or entertainment media that you consume as a viewer. As nice as it would be if Watcher could make their content without needing money to do so, they can't. Even independent YouTubers, including video essayists and Let's Players, require money to make their content. The equipment, in both purchasing and upkeep, requires money. The games (for Let's Players) require money. Internet and electricity bills, food, books needed for research, props, et cetera -- all of that requires money. No matter how simple a video may look, it still requires money to make. There is a reason that most people aren't able to make YouTube a full time job, and it isn't because they aren't talented; it's because it is a deceptively expensive venture to get into.

So with that said, even without knowing Watcher's current financial situation, it does make sense that they need money to run their business, purely from a "businesses need money" standpoint. This is common sense. This is why things like Watcher selling merchandise, having sponsored ads, having a Patreon, et cetera always made sense. And it is possible, too, that even if their present financial situation is okay, that they are thinking about the future, and costs they are likely to be incurring within the next year.

I don't know how many people within the fanbase listen to their podcast, Pod Watcher, but I do. A few episodes ago, Steven revealed that he wants to open a Malaysian restaurant within the next year. This is his dream, to bring Malaysian culture to the United States with food. This is an amazing dream for him, it's wonderful for him, I wish him success in this venture.

However, running a restaurant -- and not only running one, but building one from the ground up and running it -- takes an astronomical amount of time and energy. This is time and energy that Steven is currently expending keeping Watcher Entertainment afloat as the sole person in charge of managing their financials. (He has the official title of CEO, with Shane and Ryan having stepped away from that title In Name Only to focus on production, but the job that Steven is actually doing is CFO -- Chief Financial Officer.) So when Steven announced that he was going to be opening a restaurant within the next year, what I heard was, "Oh, Steven is leaving Watcher within the next year." This is supported, in my opinion, by Steven saying things like how Shane and Ryan will get free drinks whenever they visit, and then hastily tacking on fans can have it, too. He was trying not to show that he was leaving just yet to the fanbase, but the writing is on the wall and they all know it.

What this means is that when Steven leaves, they will need to find someone to replace him. Either Shane and/or Ryan will need to step away from producing and acting in their shows to take over CFO duties (which the reason why they stepped away is because they handled CFO duties poorly while Steven was better equipped for it, so I doubt either of them would like to do this), or they will need to hire someone to do that for them. The lowest CFO salary in LA I can find is $140k/year, and that isn't including benefits. Since Steven helped found the company, it's doubtful he's making that much, but his replacement won't be a founder and will likely want competitive compensation. There is a good chance that, considering this, Shane, Ryan, and Steven feel pressured to bring in a lot more money than they're currently doing right now.

And I understand all of that. I have supported them where I can; yesterday I literally wore my $80+ Mystery Files jacket to work, which felt a bit bitter after the news broke and I realized I wouldn't be able to watch future seasons of said show. I overpaid for a denim jacket because I wanted to support them. It's not as if I don't understand.

However . . . here is where the criticism begins.

To begin with, there is an old saying: you have to spend money to make money. To go back to my previous statements about how even smaller scale YouTubers spend money to keep producing videos to keep their channels afloat, what this saying means is that if you aren't going to put any money into your business or product, you aren't going to have a business or product to generate any revenue. However, some young business owners take this to the extreme, and figure that if they pump tons and tons and tons of cash into their business at the start, it will start to generate revenue more quickly. What ends up happening is that they overspend, sometimes even despite their best efforts not to, and end up not being able to claw their way back out of the red in the end.

Unfortunately, that is what I think that Watcher is doing with their new streamer.

Let's be clear: There have been valid criticisms about how they seemingly over-budget on shows that don't need to have such high production values or budget. Someone mentioned that their Let's Play show (I don't watch that one because horror games are uninteresting to me, so I don't remember the name) credits something akin to 26 people, which is silly when you consider the fact that there are independent Let's Players who are able to produce content themselves. Of course, you have to remember that the LPers on YouTube are editing their own videos, which Ryan and Shane probably aren't able to do -- but even then, that would be one or perhaps two additional editors. The number of people they have working on that particular venture does seem excessive.

With that said though, those 26 people were already employed and being paid, so having them work on the Let's Play show was likely not a new business expense. The streamer, however, is a completely different story.

First, they had to have paid likely multiple people to build the WatcherTV streaming website for them. Granted, I could be wrong since I have never used Squarespace, but I find it difficult to believe this is something Squarespace would be capable of handling. So unless they already had experienced programmers on their staff, they would have had to hire programmers to build the streaming website. They would also need to pay for hosting the streaming website, which includes not only the domain, but server space for all of their videos, and videos take up a lot of space. Previously, YouTube hosted all of their videos. Now? That needs to be on Watcher, and server space and maintenance is not cheap.

So they are paying for programmers, domain name, server space, server maintenance. They are also going to need to pay for security. Not only do they need to be concerned about any potential DDoS attempts, but more importantly they need security to ensure that they can't suffer a data breach and lose the credit card information of their subscribers, something which happens all the time to other companies. Now you may say, if it happens all the time and those companies are fine, Watcher will be too, right? Well, does Watcher have lawyers on retainer? Because litigation can be raised against companies with insufficient website security that puts customers' financial information at risk, which means Watcher could find themselves facing a lawsuit if their streamer is hacked and credit card information is stolen.

So they will need to pay for systems administrators to not only build security for the streamer, but also maintain security for the streamer, because cyber attacks evolve each day and it is a constant battle against them. It is possible that whatever third party they partnered with to build the streamer for them bundled all this together (if that is the route they went), but either way, services like that do not come cheap -- and if they do, you are not getting a service of value.

So what this comes down to is that Watcher Entertainment has likely spent a ton of money they allegedly do not have to build this streamer, taking the "you have to spend money to make money" adage to the extreme. Their hope, near as I can tell, is that they will generate enough revenue from the streamer so that they will be able to recoup the cost of building and maintaining the streamer and generate profit. However, judging by the reaction from the fandom, I think that is unlikely.

As everyone knows, the reaction to this news has been abysmal. While some of the responses toward Steven and Ryan in particular have been racist vomit, I do think there are valid reasons for why this news has been received so poorly. These reasons include:

Watcher built hype for a week, with a countdown timer and everything, teasing an announcement as if it were a new show or similar "gift" to the fandom, when in reality it was the news that the fandom would now have to pay for content that was previously free.

Patreon subscribers are expected to continue paying the same amount, but for far less content than before. Access to the streamer is not included in the basic tier; they'll need to double their cash output.

Many fans are international fans who can't access the streamer at all without a VPN to switch their location to the United States. Even if they want to pay, they are barred from doing so, meaning that Watcher Entertainment is shutting a large portion of its fanbase out for the foreseeable future.

Watcher took a very patronizing tone with their audience in both the announcement video and their Patreon letter. In the announcement video, which was fourteen minutes long when the actual pertinent information took half that time to deliver (if that), they began with a long diatribe about their careers and how much YouTube meant to them, and how sad they were to leave it -- as if they had guns held to their head, and weren't making this decision of their own volition. This is condescending; it implies they believe their audience is stupid enough to believe they were backed into a corner and have no choice. In the Patreon letter, they had a line that read, "And part of that change includes a bit of news that will surely be met with some fits of sobs- we're bringing Watcher Weekly+ to a close. We know. We know." Again, this is patronizing language. They are talking down to their fans, and assuming their fans will be heartbroken by losing a behind scenes the video, or whatever Watcher Weekly+ is. This arrogant, condescending tone does not help soften the blow of being told they are going to pay the same amount of money for less content.

As you can see, the way that Watcher Entertainment executed the announcement that they would be moving future content behind a paywall was abysmal, and the fanbase reacted accordingly. Provided that the anger isn't empty and that the current fanbase sticks true to their word about not subscribing (either out of principle, location, or because they can't afford it), Watcher Entertainment has lost a huge chunk of expected revenue directly out of the gate. And it's possible that they expected this; they had to know they would be shutting out international fans (at least for a time, presumably) and that there would be fans who couldn't afford it. But it's possible that they felt that there would be enough fans to support and subscribe anyway (hence the arrogant tone about people sobbing over losing Watcher Weekly+; that attitude screams of "you're so devoted to us you will do whatever we ask no matter the cost"), and also that they would be able to pick up enough new fans that it would cushion the blow of losing old fans.

Here is where the next problem lies.

Watcher's current subscription model is $5.99/month or $60/year. If you go monthly, you end up paying $72 for the year, so the annual plan is the better deal by $12. When you compare pricing to other streaming services, this may not seem so bad at first; it's on par with DropoutTV, and it's cheaper than Netflix, Disney+, and other big names such as those.

The difference, though, is that all of those other streamers -- DropoutTV included -- have far more content than Watcher does, meaning that the customer (and keep in mind that we are customers, we are not friends, and truly we are not fans when we are paying them money for product from their business) gets more bang for their buck.

I have seen the argument from defenders of the streamer in fandom that say, "So you care about quantity over quality?" And this argument is flawed for several reasons:

There are plenty of quality TV shows on other streaming platforms. DropoutTV has Game Changer. Hulu has Schitt's Creek and Abbot Elementary. Peacock has The Office and Parks & Recreation, so on and so forth. Watcher Entertainment has good shows, but they are not the only good shows in the whole of the media industry. Dare I say, they aren't even the only good shows on YouTube.

While Watcher does produce shows of high quality, their shows have tiny seasons of only six episodes each, and their seasons are spaced out months apart. They also cancel their shows without warning or announcement, meaning fans can wait (and wait, and wait) for a new season of a show they like that will never come, because Watcher dropped the show and didn't bother making official word on it. If you go through Watcher's entire content library (which is easy to do even if you like all their shows, and even easier if you only have a handful of shows you enjoy), then you will be paying for a streamer that you do not use for months on end while you wait for the next batch of six episodes that you maybe want to see if, again, you don't like all of their shows. (I myself only follow five: Puppet History, Mystery Files, Too Many Spirits, Top 5 Beatdown, and Ghost Files.) That is money you have spent on a service you rarely use. In other words: money wasted.

That last point is particularly important when you consider that Watcher Entertainment hopes to draw new customers in to subscribe to their streamer.

Pretend, for a moment, that you have never heard of Ryan, Shane, or Watcher before. You are browsing YouTube, and you come across the season premier of season three of Ghost Files. You enjoy it, so you think, oh, I would like to view the rest of the season. You learn that the rest of the season is on a streaming service called WatcherTV, which only hosts series that Watcher themselves have produced. Their library is very small right now. New episodes for ongoing seasons are weekly, they only have one season airing at a time, new seasons have month long gaps between them. This service costs $60 a year annually, or $6 a month ($72 annually). You've never seen any of their other shows before, and while you could technically afford it, it's not as if money is no object to you. You'd likely have to give up a streamer that has a much, much larger selection of shows and movies you already know you like to give this one a shot. (This one that, mind you, doesn't work outside of your internet browser, so you can't watch it on your television either.)

Would you do it? Really put yourselves in the shoes of someone who has no familiarity at all with Shane, Ryan, Steven, or their shows before that moment. Would you choose to pay $60 for a streamer with low accessibility, and a tiny, infrequently updated library? Especially if it meant losing access to so much more?

It isn't just that numerical value of the price that makes it a bad move. It's the price relative to the product being offered. Watcher's own fans, who love their content, are fiercely divided over whether to subscribe, with many saying they won't. In what universe does someone who has never heard of Watcher sign up to pay them that much for so little offerings? Particularly when they'll only be advertising via YouTube, and infrequently at that given that they'll only be posting season premiers?

(And this is not getting into how they were originally going to pull all of their content before the backlash. Yes, they walked it back -- but not only did they say in the video that the content would only be live until May 31st, but the Variety article says that the company originally told Variety that they would be pulling content, only for Ryan to issue a statement saying they wouldn't do that after. Meaning, they walked that part back because that's the part they could walk back. They have undoubtedly sank far too much money into the streamer to back out of that now. It's way too late.)

Businesses need to make money. Steven, Ryan, and Shane are business owners who are trying to make their business profitable. But I believe that this was one of the worst ways to go about it. I'm not saying that I know exactly what they should have done instead. I don't have all the answers. But I do know that from the terrible execution of getting everyone excited only to tell them (in the most patronizing way possible) that they would now have to pay for a previously free service, to deciding to sink a bunch of money into a streamer that they seem to have done no market research on beforehand and that they don't have the content library to support, this absolutely seems like the wrong way. Moving their content to an existing streamer like Nebula would have been a better move, in my opinion. (And it would have prompted me to actually sign up for Nebula, since there are several video essayists I haven't followed there . . . but I would have followed Watcher, since it would give me access to Watcher content and the content of those video essayists I've been missing.)

But what's done is done. As I said, I think at this point Watcher Entertainment has jumped off the cliff and they didn't do so with a bungee cable. I don't think they can walk this back. I'll be interested in seeing if they succeed, but I have very strong doubts they will.

#watcher #watcher entertainment #shane madej #ryan bergara #steven lim

[lostinforestbound]

I can't stop myself because this tiefling has taken over my damn life. Here we go again!

Romantic Rolan Headcanons

Gods, he is so unbelievably nervous when it comes to the romance aspect of dating, but he hides it behind of facade of confidence. He's master of the tower now, he has everything that his partner could possibly want; why doesn't it ever feel like enough?

In the beginning, he overcompensates in fear of messing up everything about the relationship. Lavish gifts, expensive dates, the whole nine yards with his newfound wealth he gained from the tower. It's a bit uncanny.

In all honestly, he figures his partner wants "The Master of Ramazith's Tower", not him. Rolan is a flawed creature who has piles of constant mistakes weighing on him; an utter, helpless fool. Why would anyone want that? No one has ever wanted him before, why now?

When Rolan realizes his partner seems confused and maybe put off by the facade, he thinks the worst things possible. Do they not desire him? Did he already mess things up so early into the relationship? Can he salvage this? Did they fall out of love?

In the beginning, he's not great at communication. It's horrid, even. He doesn't know how to verbalize how he's feeling. His partner would have to teach him as they sit down and talk about this facade he's put up. It will take a while, but they eventually will get his walls down.

I think his love language is complex, but in simpler terms, Quality Time is where I think he leans towards the most. Sitting with them as they read books, reading to them as they settle in bed, going on night walks if nightmares are haunting him, or something as simple as cuddling after a long day. One his absolute favorites is bathing together; the domestic intimacy of it all makes him feel loved and relaxed, especially if his lover washes his hair for him.

He's not the biggest fan of public display of affection, he gets bashful so easily. He'll outright refuse it if his partner tries. He prefers all of it to stay in the private setting. That doesn't stop his tail from winding itself around his lovers leg, though!

While it will take him some time, what ends up being one of his favorite things is eye contact. At first, he couldn't meet them in the eyes at all during vulnerable moments. It was too much. But the first time he finally holds their look properly, he's memorized. There is so much love in their stare, it makes his heart want to burst out of his chest with joy, and he's never been that flustered again.

He'll shout to the ends of Faerun that he's not cuddly but he is a liar. Every night, without fail, he'll at least a hand somewhere on his partner. By the time morning comes, their limbs are tangled with his and he has his face buried in their neck or chest.

Despite Cal being the main chef in the tower, Rolan does know how to cook! Any meal his partner wants, he will make, no question. He would love cooking even more if his partner joined and helped him out. He even has a mental list of all his partners comfort foods, so he can make them whenever they're sick or having a rough day. They wouldn't even have to ask for it, it's sitting in the kitchen already done.

He doesn't like being too vulnerable, so he's mortified when his partner has to shake him out of a nightmare for the first time. He's shaking, sweating, and apologizing. He's scared they'll see him as some weak, fragile thing. But all they do is stay up with him until his racing heart calms down and talk to him. It can be discussed in the morning.

He plans the most wonderful dates! Everything is scheduled in a timely matter every time, and he presents a gift at the beginning of the date every time. Sometimes small, sometimes extravagant if it's a special night. He gets gifts based purely on what he knows about his partner; favorite books, food, drinks, flowers, an outfit they were eyeing a few days ago, he'll get it no matter the cost.

I don't see Rolan as a man who uses a lot of pet names, but I can see him using terms along the lines of "my love" or "dearest". If his partner uses pet names with him though, he wouldn't mind it, just as long as it was in a private setting.

He has the absolute sweetest, longing stare. It can be quite obvious how much he's pining after his partner if you know what to look for. His tail gives so much away, with the way it flicks happily if they come over to kiss him. These stares hold on much longer after he gets himself comfortable with eye contact.

(NSFW Headcanons will be coming next! If you all have your own romantic headcanons for Rolan, please share! I would love to hear them!)

#forest-writes #rolan #bg3 rolan #holy rolan empire #rolan bg3 #rolan x tav #rolan x reader #rolan brainrot #rolanites

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 48: Fitz's Charms

Prev > Masterlist

June 1905

TW: mind control, blood drinking

Fitz once again had a plan.

It wasn't much of one. But the past few days in the auction house, he'd had little to do but sleep, eat, play solitaire, read the books and magazines Alexander brought him, and think about how he could escape his seemingly inevitable fate.

It certainly didn't help that Alexander would fix him with a look of intense longing every time he returned to the room, catching Fitz in his gaze and invoking the intense, unnatural urge for fangs in his neck. The horror of the night of the auction hadn't washed that compulsion from his mind at all, and his dreams as he drifted off to sleep were full of  Alexander pulling him close, whispering his mesmeric song in Fitz's ear, humming softly as he bit into Fitz's tender flesh...

And yet, despite Alexander's very obvious desire, and the fact that he now owned Fitz (give or take his terrifying sire, who Fitz wished to put far from his mind), he never so much as laid a hand on him, explaining that he'd rather feed at home.

Fitz didn't accept this. They had complete privacy in the auction house room and  Alexander had originally intended to buy Fitz for exactly this purpose. He'd barely been able to hold himself back in the showroom, and he was obviously struggling to hold himself back now. No, there was something else at play. After giving it a great deal of thought, Fitz concluded that the most likely explanation was that Alexander did not want to grow too attached to him. Despite his grand promises, it was clearly difficult for Alexander to defy his sire in any way. If Alexander's plans to kill the Maestro failed, it would be much easier for Alexander if he didn't care, if he could simply hand over Fitz without a second thought.

Well, that wouldn't do.

Endearing himself to Alexander would be the key to his safety and eventually his escape, Fitz reckoned, particularly if Fitz could avoid getting entangled in inconvenient affection himself. It would possibly afford him more freedom and privilege, and the more Alexander valued him, the more he'd be spurred on to save Fitz from his cruel sire.

And there was one obvious way to start that process: enticing Alexander to feed.

The fact that this plan happened to dovetail with his own enthralled desires was just a happy accident, nothing more.

Fitz had been scheming the entire carriage ride to Alexander's manor, trying to look as enticing as possible in the shapeless frock the auction house had provided for him. Alexander spent most of the ride very interested in the bland scenery of the country road, looking anywhere but at Fitz, his aura betraying where his interests truly lay and sending Fitz's head spinning.

"Well, here we are. Please make yourself at home." said Alexander, removing his coat and shoes at the doorway as Fitz looked around. The manor looked considerably smaller than his childhood home, certainly older, and infused with the musty smell of old books.

A dusty intellectual, then, just as Fitz had suspected. He could work with that. Lord knows he'd charmed his way into the homes of many such an intellectual just by feigning interest in rare plants or mystery stories or whatever bee they had in their bonnet.

"I should show you around," saidAlexander. "This will be your home, now, and I want you to be comfortable. You're free to go where you please in the manor, and use what you will, as long as you don't harm the books or the instruments, or enter my private chambers uninvited. Is that clear?"

"Clear as crystal, sir," said Fitz, deliberately stepping much too close to Alexander, enjoying how he squirmed. It gave Fitz the welcome illusion that he had the upper hand, despite being locked into the manor of the vampire who owned him.

Alexander first took Fitz into an old-fashioned kitchen that was spotlessly clean. "I'll provide you with whatever food you request, but I'll expect you to cook it yourself. Can you cook?"

No, no he could not. Fitz's family had had a chef, and since running away, Fitz had only rented out rooms without access to a kitchen. He'd subsisted mainly on sandwiches, the cheapest diner food he could find, and, when he'd worked as a waiter, as much food from back of house as he could snatch. But Alexander didn't need to know that. How hard could basic cooking be? "I'll try not to burn the place down, sir."

"Burn the place down? You wouldn't --"

"That was a joke, sir."

"...Oh, yes." Alexander took a deep breath, apparently having taken that entirely seriously. 

"Are there any other thralls living here, sir?" Fitz already suspected the answer, given Alexander's air of desperation and how clean the kitchen was.

"No, it's only you."

"Very good, sir." That would certainly work to his advantage.

As Alexander left the kitchen and Fitz followed at his heels, he couldn't help but think of the food that awaited him. He believed that Alexander would keep him fed -- after all, he was apparently depending on Fitz alone for blood, and even the auction house had kept its prisoners fed well. His mouth was watering thinking of the steak and chicken he could be eating.

He'd just need to learn how to use a stove first. A minor detail.

"I hope you'll enjoy this. It's my music room," said Alexander, leading Fitz into an ornate room with a grand piano at its center. It was covered in a mess of sheet music and the bench was worn, indicating that it wasn't just a piano for show as many rich families had, but very well-used. An impressive collection of other instruments sat on the floor or hung from racks on the walls - a beautiful guitar that Fitz immediately coveted, several fine-looking violins, a brightly-painted harpsichord, a polished oboe.

"Yes, I do enjoy it, sir," said Fitz, lighting up. This was ideal -- music would be a way to pass the time and endear himself to his new master all at the same time. He gestured toward that gorgeous piano. "Do you mind, sir?" 

"Not at all. You did mention you play, didn't you?"

"I do, sir," said Fitz with a cheeky grin. "Just listen." He sat down at the bench, making a dramatic show of stretching his arms and cracking his knuckles, pleased to see Alexander giving him full attention. With a deft hand, he launched into a familiar ragtime tune, keeping time by tapping his foot on the floor. He was out of practice, having not played a music gig in several months, but despite a wrong note here and there he could still produce a pleasant enough tune. He looked up to see Alexander absolutely enraptured, a better response than expected considering his rusty piano skills.

"That was wonderful," he said. "What song was that? I've never heard it."

"You've never heard the Maple Leaf Rag, sir?" 

"I tend to be rather sheltered when it comes to newer music."

"Is that so, sir?" With a smile and a flourish, Fitz stood up and gestured to the piano bench. "In that case, I would like to hear some of your older music, if you don't mind playing, sir."

Alexander looked surprised and pleased at Fitz's request. "If you don't mind listening, I don't mind playing. It's far from perfect, though, I should warn you."

As Fitz leaned gently against the piano, Alexander took a small breath before starting in on the most complicated and arresting piano music Fitz had heard in his life. Nimble hands flew across the keys in patterns that were nearly impossible to follow with the naked eye, and despite Alexander claiming his performance was far from perfect, Fitz couldn't have identified one wrong note or missed beat if he tried. It was the sort of song and performance that demanded full attention, driving all other considerations out of the listener's head.

Despite the intense skill required to play the piece, Alexander's expression was not one of concentration. Instead, he seemed far away, as though his mind had departed his body.

"I'm a bit rusty. Apologies," said Alexander in all seriousness as he finished, as though he hadn't just given a virtuoso performance as casually as Fitz could plunk out a children's tune.

"That was... astounding, sir," said Fitz, caught off guard enough by the music that he didn't have a calculated answer. "I've never heard anything like it. What was the song?"

"It's a piano concerto written by a vampire composer, so not one you would have likely heard of. His works take advantage of the greater nimbleness afforded our kind." Alexander seemed oddly melancholy about having had the chance to show off a truly impressive skill. "Anyway, why don't we move on?"

He stood up abruptly from the piano bench, leaving Fitz to follow again, wondering what his next move should be. He'd thought the piano would be a winner, but it had only seemed to increase the distance between him and Alexander. 

"Allow me to show you my pride and joy, the library," said Alexander.

Fitz inwardly scoffed. How could a library possibly be more interesting than the music room? He'd seen plenty of personal libraries in his time, and had never been all that impressed by a rich person's ability to gather a bunch of dusty books they never actually read. Still, he'd have to pretend to be impressed.

It turned out that there was no need to pretend. This wasn't some small parlor with a few bookshelves. No, this so-called library actually took up what looked to be an entire wing of the manor. It was two stories high with bookshelves stretching straight to the ceiling, punctuated by rickety wooden ladders. And like the piano, it was very clearly in use, with books scattered all around the chairs and tables and lying in big stacks on a large wooden desk. 

"Well, what do you think?" said Alexander, clearly looking for approval in a way he hadn't with his piano playing.

"It's an astonishing amount of books, sir," said Fitz. "Have you actually read every one of these?"

"Most of them, yes, but there are some I haven't read cover to cover. Some of them are astoundingly dull histories that mostly have a place in cross-referencing other works."

Fitz leaned in close once more. "Astoundingly dull histories, sir? You certainly do know how to charm a man."

 Alexander didn't move away. "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you've attempting to charm me."

"And is it working, sir?" Fitz stepped closer, pleased when  Alexander found himself nearly pressed against one of his bookshelves.

"Perhaps."  Alexander seemed to be trying to compose himself. "Although I confess I don't see what the purpose is. At the auction house, you were trying to convince me to buy you. You did succeed, even if the ultimate outcome wasn't what either of us hoped. What are you trying to accomplish here?"

"Isn't it enough to want to please you, sir? Must you assume I have an ulterior motive?"

 Alexander seemed amused. "Oh, I know you have an ulterior motive. I'm only asking what it is."

"I was just thinking that you bought me for a reason, sir." Fitz had him practically backed up against the bookshelf by now. "And that reason so happens to coincide with the spell that our mutual acquaintance placed on me. So it's less of an ulterior motive, and more that our interests conveniently align."

 Alexander's eyes darted to Fitz's neck, his composure rapidly waning, and Fitz felt a thrill of power. For the first time since that fateful night when Miss Lily had volunteered to be his assistant, he felt like he had control over the situation, that he could skillfully manipulate things to go his way.

"Lily did condition you very well," said  Alexander, his voice wavering. "But I did intend for you to get settled in first before I sated my appetite."

"I'm pretty well settled, sir. I think I'm going to be able to make myself very comfortable here. But I don't want you holding back on what you really want to do. That never works out for anyone."

"Is that so?"

"You wanted me to offer my blood to you, didn't you, sir? That's what you told me when we first met. Well, here I am. Offering." Fitz shamelessly pulled aside the collar of his frock, exposing his neck, enjoying the way  Alexander's desire was settling around his mind, the way he had the vampire eating out of the palm of his hand. 

It happened so fast.

Fitz was being pushed onto the couch, cold hands gripping his shoulders, a mesmerizing song ringing in his ears. Unlike  Alexander's measured song at the auction house, this was desperate, needy, wrapping around Fitz's mind and pulling it beneath the waves before he could even comprehend what was happening. His plans and manipulation no longer mattered, dashed to pieces in the whirlpool of  Alexander's irresistible voice.

The only thing that mattered now was listening.

"You will obey, won't you?" whispered Alexander in his ear.

"Yes, Master." The instinctive reply tumbled from his lips, and he wasn't remotely prepared for how right it felt. How good he felt falling back into the magic.

No, the vampire was never eating out of the palm of his hand. That was an illusion, smoke and mirrors he set up to trick himself. Alexander was absolutely in control, and there was nothing he could do about it. But unlike the absolute control Alexander's sire had used on his body, this was like rest and calm and bliss all at once, quieting his busy mind, soothing it in a way he was rarely soothed, forcing a sweet surrender.

"You'll feel no pain. Only pleasure when I drink from you."

"Only pleasure, Master." That's it, that's all there was. Only pleasure from being buried in a tidal wave of his master's desire.

And then the fangs were in his neck, finally fulfilling the promise that was made to him the moment he'd been enthralled, and the remainder of his mind crumbled in an instant. His master drank hungrily from the twin wounds, lapping at the precious drops of blood, as Fitz slumped onto his shoulder, sinking into a euphoric daze. Fitz could somehow feel every drop of his master's intense desire for him, and it felt like Narcissus looking into his pool, like a starving man served a lavish banquet, like he would never be satiated.

He was wanted, oh, he was wanted and wanted and wanted --

The feeding was over too soon, too soon for Fitz to fully savor the dizziness in his head and the heaviness in his limbs from his master's feast, the proof of his quality. The proof that Fitz was worth something to someone.

"Such a good thrall," Alexander murmured as he cradled Fitz's head against his chest. "You're perfect, Fitz. You're absolutely perfect. And I'm not going to let anyone else touch you, not my sire, not anyone. You're mine."

"Yours, sir," said Fitz, and he had promised that very thing to so many people, but he'd never actually meant it until now.

Prev > Masterlist

Next time, Alexander gets drunk.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin

@whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist

@xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini

@sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada

@typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia

@a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot

@cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme

@strawbearydreams @ghost-whump

#whump #whump writing #vampire whump #vampire whumper #mind control #blood drinking #rare bookseller #alexander #fitz

[r0mantic-f00l]

(sooo finally did it, sorry for posting late! just a fair warning, this is super sad, so read with discretion. also not proof read)

Just a Man

Sirius Black was pathetic.

Nothing more than a man who found delight in people's suffering.

In your suffering.

So you ended it with him. You did not know how, did not know where the strength and courage came from to put yourself first, yet you did know that the infatuation, the excitement that Sirius Black was, it faded. Like a mere illusion.

It was as if you woke up one day from a dream, or was it a nightmare? Is it possible for an experience to be both?

Every connection with him was cut off. You no longer talked to his friends, no longer possessed his shirts and vinyl albums and jewelry he had gifted you. You put it all in a box and left it outside his door.

It sounds as if it was easy, just leaving him in a heartbeat. Not loving him anymore. It was not easy, no. It was a battle. A battle with him, yes, because he refused to let go. But a battle with your heart too, because it refused to let go of him. Hope still lingered that perhaps all those things he would whisper to you in the midst of lust or drunkeness were true, were statements that he meant deeply.

You knew he didn't.

That's why you left.

But he couldn't leave you.

That is why Sirius Black was pathetic.

-♡-

The glow of the streetlight near to your apartment slid through the cracks of your window's blinds whilst you lied on your bed, reading a book that you had only begun a couple days beforehand.

Ticking of the clock that rested on your bedside table would distract you from your reading, reminding you that it was nearing midnight and you needed to get sufficient rest to make sure you would wake up the next day early enough to do everything you wanted to do.

However, the book was too captivating.

A knock on the door, followed by the shouting of your name finally dragged you away from the novel.

You knew who it was.

You hoped it wasn't him.

But you knew it would be.

You walked out of your bedroom and into the living room, where your front door was being abused by a repeated knocking.

Exasperated, you unlocked it and only opened the door by a smidge, a little crack showing two familiar faces.

Peter Pettigrew, holding up Sirius like a broken doll.

"No." You protested before Peter could even utter out a word.

The man sighed as he begged you silently with his eyes to listen to him whilst Sirius swayed where he stood.

"He keeps shouting your name."

"So?"

Peter scoffed.

"So he wants to talk to you, and he won't rest until he does."

"This is the fourth time this month, Peter." You spoke through gritted teeth, your patience running very thin.

"And it won't happen again. Promise."

It was an empty promise. Of course it was. Any promise made on Sirius' behalf always failed to come to fruition.

Yet before you could say anything further, Sirius murmured your name with his head hung low, seemingly too inebriated to recognise the door in front of him.

"I can't do this again, Peter. I want to move on." Subconsciously, you opened the door a bit further, the creaking noise gathering the attention of Sirius, who rose his head and widened his eyes when he saw your face.

He smiled widely, drunkenly, and cheered your name as if you were the answer to his prayers.

"I'll pick him up in the morning." Peter rushed his words out and left, making Sirius stumble in his footing and instead balance on the wall beside him, leaning against it as he grinned at you.

You sighed and fully opened the door, wrapping your arm around Sirius' back as you helped walk him into your apartment.

"Hello, my love." He murmured into your ear, the smell of vodka and cheap beer wafting into your nose as he leaned down to you.

You scowled and dropped him on your sofa, going to walk away to the kitchen to get him a drink of water before he held tightly onto your wrist.

"Where are you going?" Sirius pouted, like a spoilt child.

"Kitchen. Need to get you some water." You replied simply, and walked away when Sirius begrudgingly let go of your wrist.

The trinkle of water into the glass was not loud enough to cover Sirius' shouting as you stood by the sink, sighing as he spoke.

"Y-You would never beli-believed what happened to me tonight." Sirius slurred, turning around on the couch to face the kitchen.

"This girl, some random girl, came up to me and started- just started flirting!" He gasped out, shocked for some reason whilst you walked towards him with a glass in your hand.

"So, so I told her I have a girlfriend--"

"You don't have a girlfriend, Sirius." You placed the glass of water down in front of him and walked behind the couch.

The man grinned and rolled his head back, gazing at you with that typical arrogant, dangerous look.

"Yeah, but, I will do."

Your eyebrows furrowed as you crossed your arms.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Sirius leaned forward and took a sip of his water, humming as he drank it, and placed it back down as he turned to face you.

"Well, whatever thing you're going through now, you-you'll snap out of it soon." He smiled and ran his hand through his hair.

"And we'll be back together like nothing happened."

You scoffed and walked away from him, tired of his naivety.

"No, we won't."

Sirius chuckled and stood up from the couch, following after you.

"Hey, where you going, darling?"

"I'm not your darling!" You snapped, turning around to face him.

Rage filled your bones with the energy of your broken heart as you stared at Sirius, who only appeared perplexed, as if your reaction was unwarranted.

"I'm not your love, I'm not your girlfriend, I'm not your safety net to fall back on whenever you're bored and desperate and alone." You stepped towards him, watching as his eyes became clearer and his back straighter.

"I will never be any of those things ever again, because I don't love you anymore."

That hit something within him, Sirius appearing to become sober and shocked. And finally hurt by you. Finally he knew the feeling of rejection, of not being good enough.

"Y-you don't love me?"

You shook your head, willing away the tears building up in your eyes as Sirius' hands lifted to hold your face, but then staying in the air as if they did not know where to go anymore.

"I don't love you. Not anymore. Now that I know you're nothing special."

Perhaps that was too far, too cruel, but you wanted him to experience the same feelings you felt whenever he would complain about you to his friends, whenever he would flirt with other girls, whenever he would ignore you like you meant nothing to him.

You could see in his eyes that his would crumbled, could hear the shattering of his heart as he stumbled back.

"But you... you don't mean that." Sirius sniffed, chuckling dejectedly as he stated into your eyes. He half-expected you to laugh and say it was all a joke, or to beg for his forgiveness and hold him in your arms until the morning.

After all, he only came to your apartment for your warm and familiar embrace. An embrace that made him feel safe and loved.

"I do mean it. I've never meant anything more. I don't love you, and I want you to go."

Sirius shook his head, a tear slipping from his eye.

"No."

"Sirius, leave."

A sob broke out of him before he knelt on the ground before you and hugged your body, clinging desperately onto you as he cried.

"No, I don't want to leave, I-I..." He couldn't form words properly, sobbing with the overwhelming emotions of sadness overtook him.

"I can't leave you."

You shut your eyes, holding your head up as you fought the strong urge to sink to the floor and kiss away his tears.

"Please, Sirius. If you... if you feel anything towards me at all, please go away."

The man turned silent, his hold on your body slipping away slowly as he remained knelt on the floor.

The sight reminded you that he wasn't a saint, a god, a dreamer with the purpose of putting a little excitement into your life.

He was just a man. Nothing more. Nothing special.

Sirius stood up, his cheeks wet and his eyes red whilst he avoided looking at you.

He nodded, appearing to respect your wish as he began to walk away.

He took slow steps towards the door, leaving you frozen in place as you watched him walk away.

Before he opened the door, before he could go away for good, he turned back to you.

"I'm sorry."

Then the door opened, and shut.

And you cried.

You did not know why, perhaps it was the overwhelming emotions of relief and misery and love that made you crumble and cry, yet you did know that with every tear, every smile, every laugh and every frown; none of it would be as strong as it was with him.

-♡-

#marauders #marauders era #sirius black #sirius black x reader #angst #angst with no comfort #toxic relationship #Spotify

[braveclementine]

October 19: Non-Bed Surface (Severus Snape)💚

Warning: 18+ readers only, non-Bed Surface, degrading names (not loving), protective Severus, pet name, Professor Kink

Copyright: I do not own Severus Snape or other Harry Potter/Wizarding World characters. I also do not condone any copying of this.

You caught your breath once you were safely hidden under Severus' desk in the potions classroom. You had been sneaking around together for about four months now, having mind blowing sex and sweet kisses, but at the moment, you were slightly terrified of the male classmates that had been chasing you through the halls.

You could've casted a spell- you were a fairly good fighter- but they were popular boys with rich daddies and you really didn't want to get in the situation where you possibly won and they tattled, twisted the story, and you got in trouble. It just wasn't worth it.

Severus Snape was obviously the scariest Professor in school, and even the Slytherin boys wouldn't want to cross him. He wasn't the kind of man that even their rich daddies could intimidate into letting them off. Severus couldn't be intimidated by anyone, you were sure. Maybe Dumbledore. That would be it.

No, you were the only one who could get away with small things. In fact, he found them almost endearing, if you were not paying attention during class because you were staring at him, or if you almost ruined your potion because you were distracted by his presence behind you. He almost found it funny- if the potion ingredient you were about to add wasn't going to blow up the cauldron.

On the other hand, you did receive quite a few detentions from him, marking you as a trouble maker in his class. But they were just for the purpose of fucking and getting non-suspicious alone time.

You heard one of the boys throw open the potions door at that moment, the door bouncing off the stone wall, "I swear she just came in here."

"What's that spell to see if there's a person in a room again?" One of the boys asked.

"Stupid, that won't work, it'd just reveal everyone in the school." Another one scoffed.

There were five in total. They had cornered you in one of the hallways, asking if you'd blow them for a few Galleons. You'd been slightly terrified as they weren't taking no for an answer, upping the amount of Galleons as a tease. A slight distraction of pretending Professor McGonagall was behind them kept them distracted just long enough to duck under one of the smaller ones arms and start running.

You had no idea where Severus was at the moment. You had been hoping, when you'd entered, that he would be sitting at his desk grading papers and you would pretend to ask him a question and he'd protect you.

But instead, he was no where to be found. Maybe he was at the Great Hall, eating. It was just after lunchtime and his next class didn't start for another hour. Perhaps he was simply taking a stroll around the castle, trying to catch any Gryffindors in trouble and take house points.

So you'd hidden under his desk, hoping that they didn't look under there. Hoping they wouldn't even come into the classroom.

But they had. They had most unfortunately seen you come in here.

"She's in here somewhere." The first one said, "Find her and we can take her back to our room."

Unbeknownst to any of you, Severus had heard the boys enter the classroom, as he was sitting in his office, reading a Dark Arts book. At first, he had ignored them, assuming they were playing a childish game. He hadn't heard anyone enter so he knew that no one had originally came in. But when he heard them say 'take her back to our room,' he grew increasingly agitated, putting the book down.

He wasn't sure who 'her' was, but he hated when boys preyed on girls. He absolutely despised it.

"Where are you slut?" You heard one of the boys ask. You shivered a little under the table. You should've just headed for the Great Hall instead. But it had been farther away and you hadn't wanted to risk it.

Their footsteps were approaching the desk and you knew that any moment, they were going to find you.

That was when you heard another door open, "What are you doing in my classroom?" Severus' icy cold voice was asking.

"W-we were looking for a friend of ours." The first boy said nervously.

"Yes, I'm sure you call your friend such degrading names. You're lucky you're in my house and I'm in a fairly good mood, or else I'd be taking several points from you. Don't ever let me hear you speak of someone in such a detestable way again. Out."

The boys scampered and you heard Severus sigh. "Dunderheads."

You crawled out from underneath his desk, bumping your head, jarring the things on his desk, making you hiss. You heard his footsteps and you peered up, rubbing your head.

His heart nearly stopped at your innocent eyes. He'd only had you for four months and he was completely at your mercy.

His blood boiled when he realized that you were the one they were looking for. That you were the one they were calling 'slut'.

He knelt down, "Are you alright?"

"Yes, thank you for scaring them off." You mumbled, crawling into his lap to nuzzle into him. His heart warmed with you.

"They didn't hurt you, right?" He asked, cupping your face in his large, lovely hands. They weren't smooth, but rough with callouses, absolutely perfect. Rough and thick, perfect for so many things from potion making to getting you to scream his name through an orgasm.

"No. I distracted them and ran." You said matter-of-factly. "I didn't want to fight them. They have rich parents."

He understood that all too well.

You looked over you shoulder at the clock. Now that you were safe and in his arms, you were starting to get very needy.

"You know," You mumbled softly, rocking against his body slightly, "You still have forty-five minutes before your next class starts."

"Oh?" He cocked an eyebrow sexily. "And?"

"Will you fuck me on your desk?" You pleaded.

You felt him grow hard beneath you. He kissed your cheek, "Anything you want darling."

You were very quick to shoot up and plop your ass down on his desk, beaming up at him with large round eyes and a pouty lip. His heart was melting.

"No warm up." You demanded.

"As you wish." He mumbled quietly against your neck, pulling your knickers down and pushing your skirt up. Your hands were quick in undoing his belt. He discarded his robe on the chair and flicked his wand at the door, locking it and then charming it with two more locking spells and a silencing one.

He kissed sensually along your neck, sucking dark bruises into your skin. A sign that you were taken, even if no one knew whose you were.

You threw your arms around his neck, kissing along it as he slowly guided his thick appendage into your warm hole. His hands were firmly on your hips, holding you steady as he started off with slow rocking motions.

Slowly, he pushed you further until your back was flat against his desk and he was bent over you, fucking you more ferociously. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him to you.

With the silencing charm, you could be as loud as you wanted. Moans were ripped from throat and you cried, "faster!" or "harder!" as you needed. Your fingers tugged his lovely black locks between your fingers. It was only illusioned to be greasy to complete his appearance. He actually took great care of his hair and left it smooth, clean, and silky just for you.

"Ah kitten," He grunted as you milked his cock for the third time, "Has it always been a dream to be fucked on me desk?"

"Yes Professor! Wanted to be ruined on your desk." You whined, nails digging into his back. With one last final thrust, he finished in you, calling your name with a grunt.

You both caught your breath and he slowly slipped from you. He cleaned both of you with his wand, handed you your knickers to put back on, and then pulled you into his lap. He kissed you several times, falling more and more in love with you each time.

"If they ever bother you again, let me know." He murmured, smoothing your hair back from your face. "I don't want you to get hurt in any way, okay?"

You buried your head into his shoulder, overwhelmed with the love and attention that he was giving you. "Yeah." you mumbled. "Severus?"

"Hmm, darling?"

"I love you."

"I love you too." He kissed your nose. You gaze at the clock, "You know. . . there's fifteen more minutes and the desk didn't collapse yet. . ."

He chuckled, "What a needy little kitten. Bend over."

You grinned as you slid off the desk to turn around and bend over it. Things were going exactly as you wanted.

#Braveclementineworks #Kinktober2022 #Severus Snape #Professor Severus Snape #SeverusSnape #Severus Snape x reader #SeverusSnapexreader #smut #18+ readers only #kinktoberprompt #non-bed surface #Wizarding World

[eddiemunsons80sbaby]

Never Say Never

Chapter 19

Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader

Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.

No posting schedule.

18+ only for eventual smut

Word Count: 7.4K

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The peak of summer had hit. Humid days meant lots of time at the local pool and lake. You and Steve were enjoying every moment of the boys' break from school with them. Picnics in the woods, cookouts with friends, mini-golf, and trips to the zoo filled up your weekends. Evening bike rides had become part of your routine, often ending with ice cream cones or slushies from Scoops Ahoy. Nights spent chasing fireflies and roasting marshmallows over a fire. You and Steve had taken to enjoying evenings on the deck after the boys were in bed, glasses of wine in your hands.

Mid-July found everyone once again sitting around a large table at Sage and Salt, minus your parents, as you were all there for an entirely different reason this time.

“To Mike!” everyone cheered loudly, glasses clinking in celebration all around the table. 

Mike’s cheeks blazed bright red, his lips disappearing in embarrassment at everyone making a fuss over him. He’d told you last week that he finally got an offer for his book. The book he’d been working on for years was finally going to be published, he was getting a decent advance for a new author, had signed the contract just that afternoon, and everyone had insisted on going out to celebrate. 

“Thank you but this all feels a little…premature, doesn’t it?” he asked. “I mean, yeah, I got an offer and signed a contract but we have no idea how the book is going to do. Getting published doesn’t mean anything. Lots of people get published and their book just sits on a shelf collecting dust. It could still horribly flop.”

“It will not,” insisted El, looping her arm through his, a proud smile on her face. “You are going to do incredible. Michael Wheeler is going to be a household name.”

“Yeah, man. You could be the next Stephen King,” Lucas said. 

Dustin snorted, “Nobody’s the next Stephen King. Stephen King is the only Stephen King there is or ever will be. Besides, his books are in a totally different genre. You can’t even compare the two.”

Max rolled her eyes, “Jesus Christ, Dustin. Can you just say yeah and be happy for your friend?”

“I am happy for my friend but it would be more appropriate to compare him to Eddings or Brookes as his book would be of the fantasy genre and they are fantasy authors. Of course, those are big shoes to fill. If his books do even half as well as theirs I will be impressed.”

“Okay, we get it,” Steve sighed, shaking his head. “Anyway, this is a huge deal and I am sure your book is going to be great. Congratulations Mike.”

“Thank you.”

“Yes, we’re so proud of you,” Karen beamed, teary, reaching over the table to pinch his cheek as he grimaced and pulled back from his mom.

“It’s about time,” Tedd grumbled, taking a long drink of his beer. “Only been working on the damn thing for five years, letting his wife pick up the slack.” Karen elbowed him and he looked over at her, completely unaware of how rude he was being.

“Well,” Joyce added, “I think it’s great. I can’t wait to read it. I will be first in line to buy it the day it comes out.”

Mike smiled at her, “Thanks.” He glanced around the table at all of his friends. “And thanks to all of you. If you wouldn’t have pushed me so hard, I’d probably still be editing it over and over again, too scared to ever actually put it out into the world.”

Nancy ruffled his hair, “No problem, kid. We all knew you had it in you even if you didn’t.”

“It’s an amazing story,” Will told them. “Mike really did his research. It’s well planned out, the plot is gripping, the characters are amazing, and the world building is on point.”

Dustin’s mouth dropped open, his fork hitting the plate with a clang, his eyebrows furrowing, “Wait. You’ve read it?”

Will shrugged, “I mean, yeah. Mike wanted me to look it over to see what I thought. I actually helped him with some of the editing.”

“How come he got to read it?” demanded Dustin, offended. “You said we couldn’t read it until it was published and perfect?”

“It’s Will,” Mike stated as if that should be enough explanation. “I trust Will to be honest with me.”

“We’re honest,” Lucas scoffed. 

Max’s eyes rolled into her head, “Boys, boys…calm down. You all will have a chance to read it in a few months when it comes out. No need to bicker over who got to read it first. You’re all very important to Mike.”

“Speaking of people who are about to be famous, you will never guess who I saw at the record store today,” Robin said, turning to Steve as the boys continued to banter back and forth, her hand reaching across the table to grab a roll from the basket sitting in front of Steve.

“Who?” he asked.

“Eddie Munson.”

Steve’s eyes went wide, “For real?” 

Robin nodded with a grin like she’d just spilled the juiciest news ever but being that you had no idea who she was talking about, you just munched on your bread. It didn’t appear that June had any idea who it was either as her and you shared a look of confusion. Based on the look on Steve’s face, this was very big news indeed.

“But I thought he took off,” Steve continued. “After senior year…well, his third try at senior year, anyway. He said he was getting out of this hellhole and never looking back.”

“He did get out. Hasn’t lived here for years but he came back to help Wayne pack up the trailer. Apparently, his band just got a record deal with this big label in L.A. He said they’ve been playing in clubs for years and were just thinking of packing it in and giving it up when this big record executive came to one of their shows. Anyway, they gave him this huge advance and he bought a house out there and Wayne is going to move in with him.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Steve remarked, his hand on your shoulder, thumb stroking the bare skin along the strap of your tank top. You had learned over the last few months that he was a very physical guy. Some part of him was almost always touching you and you weren’t complaining about it. “Good for him. You know, the way this town treated him, I always hoped he’d do well and show them all.”

“Who’s Eddie Munson?” June questioned just as you were about to ask it yourself.

“He’s this guy we went to school with. He’s Steve’s age but he had some struggles in school so he wound up graduating with my class. Honestly, I think he might have had ADD but of course they didn’t really talk about that back then. They’ve only really started talking about it in the last couple years. If you couldn’t keep your ass in the chair and learn like everyone else then you were just out of luck. Most of the teachers wrote him off as a lost cause so he lived up to it. He was sent out of the classroom so many times for being obnoxious or causing a disruption. But he was crazy talented at the guitar and he always had a book he was reading. People called him dumb but I never thought he was. Annoying, absolutely, but not dumb. I think he just couldn’t get it the way they were teaching it and no one took the time to figure out how to teach him.”

Steve shrugged, “He had it hard here. The town treated him like trash because his dad was trash. His old man went to prison for selling hot car parts and his mom took off when he was just a toddler. He wound up living with his Uncle Wayne when he was in middle school. Wayne had a trailer in Forest Hills. So on top of being a felon’s kid, on top of having trouble at school, he also lived in a trailer. It was the trifecta of judgement for the people in this town. Everyone always said he was up to no good and he was going to turn out just like his father.”

“You know,” Robin mused, tearing off little bits of her roll and stuffing them in her mouth, “one time some of the cheerleaders were being mean to me. Not that it wasn’t something that happened all the time.” She snorted, rolling her eyes. “I was a band geek so the jocks and the popular kids loved to give us shit. Anyway, they took my trumpet and were playing keepaway. Eddie stepped right in and swiped it from them, depositing it in my hands with a flourish and a bow before strolling off down the hallway. I always kind of admired him. He never let those asshats get him down. He just was who he was and he didn’t care what anyone thought of him.”

“I don’t know,” countered Steve. “I think everyone cares what other people think of them. I just think some of us are better at pretending like we don’t. I think that obnoxious, boisterous exterior was a shield he put up to protect himself once he realized he was never going to be accepted by this place. It was easier to pretend it didn’t matter than to allow himself to be vulnerable to the mockery. Dustin sure loved the guy though.”

“Loved who?” asked Dustin, catching the sound of his name.

“Eddie Munson,” Steve answered.

“Hell yeah I did. All of us did.” He gestured down the table to the other boys. “He was a Dungeons and Dragons Master. He was the head of our D&D club, Hellfire, and we all joined our freshman year of high school. Me, Lucas, Mike, and Will were never what you’d call…popular. Lucas was a bit once he started playing basketball and helped them win the championship game. But Eddie, man, he just accepted us from the first day. He gave us a place to belong. We were happy to be one of his sheep.”

Steve snorted, “It was like a damn cult. He referred to them as his sheep like he was a shepherd leading the flock. All four boys loved him but Dustin freaking worshiped the ground he walked on.”

“He passed the reins onto Dustin when he finally graduated, appointing him Dungeon Master,” Robin said, pausing to thank the waitress as she brought their food. “But he was heartbroken when he found out Eddie was going to completely skip town.”

“He was my friend. Hell, he was more like a brother, and he was a hell of a Dungeon master. I tried to fill his shoes but nobody really could,” Dustin stated. “I’ve been out there to visit him a few times, actually. He’s in town right now. Did you know that?”

“That’s what I was just telling him, doofus,” Robin said. Dustin stuck his tongue out at her and she laughed.

“And were you close to Eddie?” you asked Steve.

“Me? No. Not so much. Eddie and I…we didn’t have a lot in common. He was a metalhead who loved to play nerd games. I was an athlete who would rather do just about anything than Dungeons and Dragons. But I never had an issue with him like some people. I always thought he was a pretty good guy. Henderson’s a good judge of character. If he says you’re solid, you probably are. My few interactions with him were alright.”

One of Robin’s eyebrows lifted, her elbow dropping to the table as she leaned forward, “Oh please! You hated that Dustin and him were so close.”

“Yeah he did! He didn’t like that I had another older male friend. He wanted to be the only one.”

Steve’s lips came together, making a noise of disbelief, “Okay, one, gross. And please. Like I cared who you spent your time with. I was just relieved you weren’t constantly following me around anymore.”

Robin turned to you, “Don’t let him fool you. He was so jealous that Dustin was spending more time with Eddie. He got used to being the only one that the kid hero worshipped.”

“Aww,” you teased, poking him in the side, giggling when he jumped. “You didn’t like having to share your little brother?”

His eyes narrowed, “Please. Like I cared who Dustin Henderson hung out with.”

“Oh, he did,” Dustin shot back. “He can act like he didn’t want me around but he’d be lying. Steve loves me.”

“Okay, anyway, onto another topic please,” Steve begged, popping a fry into his mouth as the other guys caught wind of the conversation and started asking Dustin about Eddie. 

“Alright, how about we talk about how my amazing girlfriend had some brilliant ideas about how to get more business into the coffee shop?” June offered, her hand covering Robin’s. “I was telling her how weekday evenings can be pretty dead and I wasn’t sure if I should start closing early and she had some amazing suggestions.”

“Oh yeah?” You leaned forward, arms folded on top of the table. You smiled at how red Robin’s cheeks flared at June’s compliment. “What amazing suggestions did you have?”

Robin shook her head, fingers tearing little pieces of her napkin nervously. “It wasn’t really anything spectacular…”

“Yes it was!” June huffed, rolling her eyes. “She’s just being modest. She mentioned starting a book club night. We could have specials to lure them in. I mean, what goes better with a conversation about a good book than a cup of coffee and yummy sweets?”

“Oh, I think that’s a fantastic idea!” you exclaimed, bringing your straw to your lips for a sip of Coke. “We don’t really have anywhere in town that does book clubs. I think you’d get a lot of people interested. You could even make a special dessert to go with the book they’re reading.”

June’s eyes lit up. “I love that idea! Like I could make something with orange marmalade for Bridget Jones's Diary. We think that might be the first pick. I could even come up with some fun drinks to go with it. Maybe instead of coffee, have a fun tea beverage.”

“Yes! I’m totally in for the book club.”

“Oh, did I hear you say you’re starting a book club at the cafe?” asked Nancy, making her way down the table to join them. “I’m in.”

“Really?” Robin asked. “I mean, you really think it’s a good idea?”

“I told you babe,” June sighed, “it’s an amazing idea. We’re thinking about Tuesday nights. We’ll feature one book a month. I’m partnering with Terry, who owns the bookstore. He said he’ll make sure to order extra of whatever we pick so people can buy it directly from him instead of having to drive into the city to find it.” She shrugged. “I mean, it’s a win-win for both of us, you know?”

“I also mentioned a live music night and maybe a poetry night where people could come in and perform,” Robin added, posture straightening as her confidence built seeing that everyone thought it was a good idea. “That’s why I was in the record store today. I was talking to Tom about the local bands he knew of. We want to get the word out but we need to know where to find the people to give the word.”

“Yeah. But we’re thinking of waiting on the live music for a couple months. I want to make sure we have the book club thing down before I try adding in anything else. If that all goes well, then maybe in a couple more months we can phase in poetry night.”

“The Hideout would probably be the best place to find bands,” Jonathan offered as he headed down to join them as well, his arm slipping around Nancy’s waist. “I mean, that’s where Corroded Coffin always played.”

Robin nodded, “I know but we want to host a variety of music. I think The Hideout is pretty heavy stuff. Not that we don’t want that too but it would be nice to do a variety to get more people in.”

Steve snorted, “Yeah. Not everyone wants to listen to a bunch of screaming. Makes my ears want to bleed.”

“You know, Matt works with a guy who’s in a band. They play more acoustic stuff. I could talk to him and see if his friend would want to play at your shop,” you told them. 

“That would be great. Like I said, it wouldn't be for a couple months. Probably not until the end of summer but I wouldn’t mind lining up some talent so we have a schedule and are ready to go when it’s time. Plus that would give us some time to figure out logistics.”

“If you’re looking for something Monday through Friday, you could always eventually add a local artisan night too. People who make things could have small displays in your shop and in front of it. From my experience, people love that kind of stuff,” Nancy said. “There’s just something so gratifying about finding that unique something special that you can’t find anywhere else because it’s not mass marketed. You know?”

“That’s not a bad idea, either,” June agreed. “And I love getting to support artists and small business owners. Especially given that I am one.”

“Oh, I wanted to ask, would it be okay if Eli stayed over tonight?” asked Nancy, turning to you. “Jere has been bugging me all day since we were all going to be here together. We rented Space Jam and he refuses to watch it without Eli.”

Steve glanced over at you, eyebrows wiggling suggestively at the thought of the two of you having a night alone. You weren’t used to having Eli gone as much as he was these days. He usually wound up hanging out with one of the gang or having a sleepover at least once a week but you’d learned to appreciate any time you could have alone with Steve.

“Yeah. Absolutely. I’m sure he’d love that.” A soft smile lifted the corners of your mouth as you glanced down the table, watching as the boys took turns shooting straw wrappers at Dustin and Lucas, a skill that Hopper was apparently teaching them. The man was like an over-sized child sometimes.

“Thanks. We’ll bring them both back around lunchtime tomorrow if that’s good for you,” Jonathan said, him and Nancy sharing a smile. “Give you some morning time too, you know, if you need a little extra.”

A couple hours later found you strolling next to June as Steve and Robin argued ahead of you. Everyone had headed home and the four of you decided to walk off some of your food first. You were only able to catch a word here or there of Steve and Robin’s conversation and had no idea what they were arguing about. But considering it sounded playful, you weren't worried. If there was such a thing as platonic soulmates, those two were it. They bickered like siblings but their love for each other knew no bounds. That was obvious to anyone who witnessed their interactions for even a few minutes. 

“So, it seems pretty serious with you and Robin,” you observed, hooking your arm through June’s as you walked along the main street. 

A smile like a crescent moon curved the raven-haired beauty’s lips, “It is, I think. I’ve been crushing on her for months. I didn’t think she’d ever get the nerve to say anything. I mean, honestly, I wasn’t even sure if she liked me for a while. The girl never made eye contact with me. I knew she was into girls but I just figured maybe I wasn’t her type and she didn't want me to get the wrong impression or something.”

“Oh, she liked you,” you laughed, pausing to look in the window of the general store. Eli had been begging you for the Batcave playset that had come out a couple weeks ago. With his birthday coming up next month, you were going to need to stop in and get it. If you waited too long, it might not be there and you’d never hear the end of it. “She liked you a lot. I just think she was scared to say anything.”

“Obviously. But she’s…I mean, she’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. She’s so kind and thoughtful. I love the way she rambles when she’s nervous. It’s just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. And those little freckles…I just want to kiss each one.” She giggled. “I often do, actually. It’s only been a few weeks but somehow I just know. I know this is going to be something amazing. I know it’s going to last, you know?”

You curved your lower lip in, nodding as your eyes instantly moved to Steve, “I do know.”

“You sure seem to. You and Steve are the freaking cutest. Anyone watching you two can see it’s something special.”

It was special. It was everything. It was more than you could have ever imagined you’d get in life. After losing it all, you’d never expected to find something this magical again, someone this amazing. You knew exactly what June meant because you just knew. You knew that Steve was it for her. You knew six months from now, six years from now, sixty years from now, the universe willing, that he would still be by your side and you would still be just as deliriously happy. 

Robin shoved Steve, his hand coming to her face and shoving her back, both of them laughing. You watched the exchange with amusement. You already loved both of them so much. They had seamlessly been sewn into the fabric that was your life. What girl not only got to have the perfect guy but also the amazing people who came along with him? Sometimes it felt like too much, like you couldn’t possibly deserve this much. 

“Are you two talking about us back there?” Robin questioned, walking backwards ahead of them. 

“Only good things,” June promised.

“My girl's not complaining about how I don’t hang up my towel after a shower?” Steve asked, spinning around to face them. “Or how I leave little hairs in her sink when I shave? Or how she trips over my shoes because I don’t put them by the door where they belong?”

“I can accept all of those things if you can accept how I hog all the blankets at night,” you replied. “Or how I take showers so hot you feel like your skin is melting off. Or how I always take the last of the coffee and don’t make another pot.”

Steve stopped walking, waiting until you were right in front of him. His arms wrapped around you, hand locking at the small of your back, a gentle kiss pressed against your lips. Those lips, so damn soft. The man always had a ChapStick in his pocket. You knew because you’d run it through the washing machine more than once. 

“I can accept every single one of those as long as it means I get to have you,” he whispered, his lips pressing softly against your nose. 

“Did we just watch them exchange vows?” teased June. “Because those sure sounded like vows.”

“Seriously, when are you two just going to bite the bullet and move in together?” asked Robin. 

Steve’s eyes went wide, zeroing in on you, examining you and you knew why. He was waiting. Waiting for you to sink into the dark abyss of an attack the way you had the last time moving in together had been brought up. You hated the way his body tensed, readying himself to try to pull you out of it. You hated that he assumed you would fall apart at the mention of the future with him. 

Because you weren't. You weren't panicking. The two of you spent more nights together than not these days. You had toothbrushes at each other’s places. You had a drawer with a spare change of clothes for those last minute decisions to stay over. He had a thermos in your cupboard for his coffee for work when he woke up at your place. 

“Robin, we’ve only been dating for a few months,” Steve urged, darting a warning glance at his friend. “We’re taking things slow.”

Robin guffawed, her head thrown back with loud laughter, “Moving slowly? You sleep at each other’s houses every single night.”

“Not every night,” Steve argued.

“Practically,” she stated. “You already act like a married couple. Aly packs your lunches for work for crying out loud.”

You shrugged, “I mean, I’m already packing Eli’s and mine so I just…”

“I don’t care that you pack his lunch. But if you’re packing lunches, taking turns picking up the kids from school, and sleeping next to each other every single night, what’s the difference if you just go from two houses to one?”

“She’s not wrong,” June agreed. “You’re basically living together in two different spaces. Just sell one. It’s definitely more economically logical. You’d only have one house payment.”

“And if you sell one, you’d have a decent chunk of change. You could use it for…oh, I don’t know…a wedding?” Robin’s eyebrows wiggled tauntingly. 

“We haven’t…I mean…we’ve talked but not…” you stammered. 

Steve’s hands found yours in an attempt to ground you. Oddly, you didn’t need it. This talk about weddings and living together, talk that used to make your heart run a marathon, that used to suck the air right out of your lungs, wasn’t doing anything. You just didn’t know how to respond. After the hospital incident, you hadn’t really discussed it anymore.

It wasn’t like it wasn’t there, a thought that kept jabbing at your brain every now and then. But you’d been happily just going along the way you were. If he had Jere, you would stay at his place so Jere could have his things. If he didn’t, they stayed at your place. Miles had even gotten comfortable at both houses. The dog was at home at your place, leaving dark hairs everywhere that you could never seem to fully vacuum away. Somehow you always went to work covered in him but you didn’t mind.

But did Steve want to take that step? He’d told you that he hadn’t meant it when he said he liked his space. But the man had been living on his own for a while. He didn’t have to be attached to a child seven days a week. If you moved in together, he would have Eli around all the time. Maybe he wanted to be able to head back to his own place, his sanctuary of peace and solitude. 

“Okay Robin. Your suggestions and opinions are duly noted,” Steve said, putting an end to the discussion. “Thanks for the input.”

Robin shrugged, grinning, “Just wanted to get my two cents out there. Voice the idea into the world. Because we both know you two will never do it if left to your own devices.”

____________________________________________________________

Steve stroked your hair as you lay with your head on his chest, the two of you relaxed back on a blanket. A cool breeze tickled his skin, crickets creating a soundtrack for your evening as you enjoyed a moment of quiet together in his backyard. Stars twinkled like diamonds in the night sky, the half moon providing what little bit of light you had. 

He felt completely at ease with you right here where you belonged, cocooned in his arms, your hearts beating rhythmically against one another, sharing each other’s warmth to ward off the chill of the early summer evening. 

He’d been expecting you to go into a full blown anxiety attack earlier when Robin started talking about moving in together. He’d expected another call to 911 when you'd mentioned marriage. But he’d never been so glad to be wrong. You had taken it in stride. You'd stammered a bit, looked a little nervous, but you hadn’t lost control. It was a small step in the right direction.

Steve hadn’t broached the subject of living together since that night when he almost ruined everything. You were spending most nights and mornings together as it was. It wasn’t enough. He didn’t think it would ever be enough but you seemed to be okay with it and so it was what he would make himself okay with for now. He’d made a silent vow not to push you anymore and he’d stuck to it, waiting for you to let him know when you were ready for the next step. 

Had he wondered if you never would be? Of course he had. With your past, your struggles with anxiety, it concerned him that this could be what your relationship looked like forever. You frozen in place, terrified to move even an inch in a forward direction. Him never saying anything for fear of pushing you away. The two of you at a standstill, your relationship never evolving, never changing past two people who dated and stayed over at each other’s places. 

Steve had thought you'd fallen asleep until you said softly, “Maybe Robin has a point.”

“Hmm?” he questioned, pulling himself from his thoughts. 

You lifted your head, placing both hands over his heart before resting your chin on the backs of them. You took his breath away. Every time you looked at him it was like he had forgotten just how beautiful you were and he was stunned all over again. Every damn time. His fingers slid a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I said maybe Robin has a point,” you repeated, turning your face into his touch, your lips pressing a kiss to the center of his palm. 

Steve snorted, “Robin’s never right about anything.” At the look you gave him, he relented. “Okay. Fine. Yeah, she has some great ideas about June’s cafe. I think those things will really help bring in the business. We’ve yet to see but maybe she does have a point.”

“Steve, that’s not what I’m talking about.”

His heart stuttered in his chest. You couldn’t be saying what he thought you were saying, right? No. That was just him getting his hopes up far too high. It had only been a little over a month since that night in the hospital. There was no way you were going from barely able to breathe at the idea to suddenly saying you should move in together.

He swallowed, trying to rein in the desire that was raging in him for you to open your mouth and say those words. Because if you didn’t, the disappointment would come crashing down on him like an avalanche, his heart crushed under the weight of hundreds of tons of rock and rejection. 

“So, what are you talking about?” he asked, attempting to keep the hope he was feeling out of his voice. 

Your head tilted, your mouth curving into a gentle smile, “I mean, we are practically living together as it is. We’re just doing it in two different spaces. It does seem kind of silly, doesn’t it?”

Steve swallowed hard, nodding, barely trusting himself to reply with more than that. He wanted to grab onto you, pull you into him, kiss you breathless, and beg you to move in together. To choose a place. He didn’t care which. If you wanted to keep your place, that was fine with him. He just wanted you to be in his life, all of it, every day for forever.

“I understand if you’re not ready. I know you’ve probably gotten used to having your own space. I’m sure it’s nice to come home to a quiet house on the days when Jeremiah is with Nancy and Jonathan. So, I’m not pressuring you or anything. I’m just saying maybe it’s something to think about?”

He nodded. Emotion was clogging his throat. He knew he needed to say something. He needed to respond to you but he couldn’t seem to get sound past the lump in his esophagus. 

You blinked quickly, burying your head against his chest again as you muttered softly, “Anyway, just a thought. No big deal. I wasn’t saying we have to do it now.”

Jesus Christ, he chastised himself. Open your mouth. Say something. His arms wound around you tighter. Those beautiful eyes, eyes he hoped he was lucky enough to look into for the rest of his life, opened wide. He traced the back of his hand over the soft skin of your cheek. 

“Move in with me,” he urged. “Or I’ll move in with you. I don’t care. But let’s move in together.”

Those perfectly pink lips arced up on both sides, “Really?”

“Yes, really. Invade all of my space. I told you, I don’t want space. I don’t want quiet. I don’t want alone. I just want you. You and Eli and Jeremiah. I want you to fill up all the space until there’s none left.”

“Are you sure? You’re not just saying that?”

“Honey, I’ve never been more sure of anything than I am of you,” he said. “I know I want you forever. I know you’re it for me. I don’t need to wait and see. I don’t need time to figure anything out. I’ve known from the moment I saw your face that you were going to be something special in my life. And you are. I want you and everything that comes with you.” He cradled your face in his palms. “I want this face to be the first thing and the last thing I see every day.”

Tears sparkled in your eyes under the light of the moon. “Me too. Maybe it’s quick but I don’t care. I thought I needed to move slowly. I thought I would need time to know if this was right but I don’t. I feel it, so deeply in my bones. You’re right. This is right. I was worried about Eli but I don’t have to be because I am certain. I love you and so does he. It won’t matter if we decide today or six months from now. I will be completely certain it’s you.”

“So, your place or mine?” he asked. 

“I…” You paused, inhaling sharply. 

“It’s okay if you want to keep your house, honey. My house is just a house. Your house holds a lot of memories for you. I know that. I truly don’t care where I live as long as you and the boys are there.”

“No. I mean…I don’t think I want to keep the house. That house is full of memories but they’re memories from a different life. I want to start fresh. I want to build new memories with you. I don’t need the house to remember. Those memories will always be with me but I’m tired of living with a ghost and that’s what it feels like there. I mean, I should probably talk to Eli about it and see how he feels. But what would you think about buying a new house? Something we choose together? Something where we can create our own history and stories?”

“I think that sounds perfect.”

And it did. A whole new space where you could choose things together. You could slowly make it your own. A house that you would turn into a home by filling it with love and a shared history. A place where you could raise your boys together and then a space for just the two of you when the boys were grown and out creating their own futures. Four walls that would contain all the memories of your years, the happy and the sad, that you would look back on years down the road. 

“I love you,” you whispered, beaming from ear to ear. 

“I love you, too. God, I love you so much.”

You pushed yourself up, resting both knees on either side of his hips, straddling him under the stars in his backyard. Miles lifted his head from where he lay observing on the deck and Steve raised his hand, his command for stay. The dog released a heavy sigh but dropped his big head back down on his paws. 

“You are everything I never thought I could have.” Whispered words as your mouth, hot and sweet, covered his, your tongue teasing, flicking and brushing over his lips, teeth, and tongue. “You are a damn dream, Steve Harrington and I hope I never wake up.”

Your words, transmitted on your breath from your mouth to his, traveled throughout, spreading, inhabiting every single space. His hands ran over your body, grabbing and squeezing, as he made a vow to himself to keep you feeling like that. To ensure you never woke up, never looked around and doubted your choice right here on this blanket, never was disappointed to find the dream wasn’t your reality. 

You ground your hips over him and hissed at the feel of rock hard denim pressing over your clit. One hand slid up your shirt, taking your breast in his palm, while the other slid underneath your skirt, grabbing a handful of your ass. You rocked harder against him, whimpering when he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth between kisses. 

Steve sunk into your mouth, taking the kiss even deeper, his tongue exploring, gliding and dancing over yours. His hand on your ass grabbed onto the lacy fabric covering your hip, his fingers wrapping around it, wanting to tear it off of you and bury himself to the hilt right now. 

“Should we…?” you tried but gasped when he pinched your nipple, rolling the pert little bud between his thumb and forefinger. “Should we go inside?”

“No, honey…can’t wait…wanna fuck you right here…under the stars…” he mumbled against your skin, sucking and nibbling a path up your neck to your chin. “Wanna have you under me…take you in the moonlight…” 

A squeak escaped you when his arms came around your waist, flipping you to your back beneath him. His fists came down on either side of your head, taking in the sight of your wide eyes, parted lips, flushed skin. 

“Fuck, you’re so damn beautiful,” he growled, his lips crashing down over yours again as your fingers dove into his hair, your legs locking around his waist as your heat sought out the friction of him again. 

“But neighbors,” you protested weakly when his fingers wrapped around the edge of your panties, yanking them down and away, tossing them carelessly somewhere in the yard. “What if someone sees?”

“No one’s gonna see,” he assured you, his lips traveling down your body, lifting your shirt to press open mouthed kisses over the soft skin of your stomach. “Maybe Miles, but he won’t tell anybody. He’s good at keeping secrets.”

You giggled at that, the sound filling his ears, delighting his senses. It was one of his favorite sounds in the world, maybe his most favorite. It was a sound he wanted to cause you to make every single day but it’s not the sound he wanted right now. 

Sliding down the blanket, he slipped his head under your skirt, taking your pussy in his mouth, and that’s when he got the sound he wanted. You choked out his name when he sucked on your clit like a throat lozenge. You writhed, whimpered, when he licked you from top to bottom, swirling his tongue over you teasingly. 

The taste of you made him feel drunk, his head fuzzy in that delicious way when the world just goes soft. He wrapped his arms around each of your thighs, holding you in place, as he feasted on you. Your back arched, fingers tangling in his hair, as he flicked his tongue over your clit. 

“Jesus, Steve,” you groaned, your hips rocking against his face, seeking sweet release. 

Fuck, he would never get enough of you. Your taste. Your scent. Your sounds. The way you felt. He could spend the rest of his life buried between your thighs happily and it still wouldn’t be enough. 

You were panting softly above him, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Your thighs trembled around his head and he knew you were close to coming undone. Steve wrapped his mouth around your clit and your entire body froze as you cried out his name loudly. He gently lapped at your sweet center, not stopping until he felt you relax beneath him. 

“Steve…” Your voice was raspy with lust, your fingers threading through his hair, leading him up your body. He stared down at you, the way your skin glistened under the faint light of the moon, your eyes heavy, your lips curled in a satisfied smile. “I think the neighbors might have heard me.”

He grinned, pressing his forehead to yours, “Let them. Then they all know you’re mine.”

“I am, you know? Yours. Just yours,” you whispered, bringing his mouth to yours again, kissing him deeply. 

Those words did something to him, scratching an itch in his brain he hadn’t even known was there before this woman came into his life. Steve worked at his belt, undoing his jeans and kicking them down his legs, needing to be inside of you. 

Nestling himself between your legs, he took his cock in his hand, sliding the tip over your clit and through your folds, teasing. You moaned, low and deep, your eyes fluttering as he slipped just the tip in before bringing it back out to run through your slick tauntingly. Your feet slid over his calves, your hands slipping under his shirt, nails running over the skin of his back. 

“Steve…stop teasing…” you pleaded. 

“Lift up your shirt for me, honey,” Steve told her. “I want to see all of you while I fuck you.”

You obeyed, tugging your shirt up and over your head, leaving you lying beneath him in nothing but your little black skirt and a scrap of lacy pink fabric that was so sheer he could see your nipples, dark pink and hard. He couldn’t take it anymore, his hand grabbing onto your hip as he thrust inside of you, burying himself in your heat. 

“Oh fuck, yes…Steve…” you groaned, your nails digging into his flesh. 

Jesus, you felt so damn good. He thrust again, sinking even deeper into you if that was possible, both of you moaning. Your legs locked around him, your bodies melding together until he could barely pull out. His hips rocked into you, small movements that kept him sheathed the whole time, his cock dragging over your walls. 

“I love you…Jesus Christ, honey…I love you…so fucking good…you feel so fucking good,” he grunted, rutting against you, chasing his own high as he felt you already starting to tremble beneath him again. 

“Love…you…” you panted, fingers gripping his shoulders, your mouth catching his for a moment before you broke off, head dropping back. “Don’t stop…please don’t stop…oh god…Steve…right there…I’m gonna…”

His head fell back, riding it out as your pussy clenched down around him, clinging to him as you rode out the wave. He was almost hyperventilating as he thrust into you hard, fingertips digging into the flesh of your hips, his eyes squeezing shut as his own orgasm crashed down over him with force, spilling into you. 

His cock throbbed within you as your pussy pulsed around him. He dropped down, his elbows on either side of your head, his hands cupping your cheeks. You looked like a fucking vision glowing and flushed in the subtle light of the moon above them. Your hand came to his cheek, smiling up at him, looking as satisfied as he does after he’s power washed every damn thing outside of his house. 

“You’re mine, huh? Just mine?” he teased with a smirk, thumb coasting over the curve of your cheekbone. 

You turned into his touch, pulling the tip of his thumb between your lips, “For as long as you want me to be.”

“Careful what you wish for, honey because that’s a long time. I’m thinking forever.”

“Works for me,” you beamed, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, pulling his lips down to yours. 

Taglist: @katethetank@roxiehorrorshow@sapphire4082@bakugouswh0r3@frostandflamesfanfic @mix-matchsocks @mushy-mushroom04 @palmtreesx3 @littlebookworm86 @eddies-trailer-babe @cheesewritings @emilyj444 @daisyhollyxox @angelbabyivy @the-fairy-anon @loritate7311 @k-k0129 @antiquecultist

Thanks so much for taking the time to read my little story! 😊 And replies and reblogs are always appreciated if you enjoy it. I love to hear what you think! ❤️❤️❤️ Only one more chapter to go and then this story will come to an end.

#dad steve harrington #steve harrington #singledad!steveharrington #steve harrington single dad #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #fluff #smut #fluff and smut #romance #second chance romance #second chance at love #widow #divorced dad steve harrington #slow burn #robin buckley #robin and steve #dustin henderson #max mayfield #mike wheeler #eleven hopper

[bibliophilesince2003]

Do you enjoy (Star Wars) Bad Batch? Do you want to read a fan-fiction focused on an original character who is forced to work with the Bad Batch in order to save Omega and put a dent in an original antagonist's plan? Do you enjoy books with a sense of adventure and mystery, with wholesome, saddening, and comedic moments in between?

I enjoy reading fan-fiction from time to time, and I've always been a writer. However, I was shocked to find that most Bad Batch fan-fiction is either incomplete or a romance between a member of the Bad Batch and an original character. I wanted to write something not focused on romance, but focused on a realistic situation with realistic conversation.

Since I couldn't find it, I wrote it. Started in November of 2023, I finished the book in February of this year (2024) and am very proud of it. In fact, I am working on book two... a book following the events of book one.

What is it called and where can I find it, you ask? Well, here are the links to Star Wars: The Bad Batch - Keeper's Arena. I have it posted on Wattpad and Archive of Our Own, so it depends on your preference. On Wattpad, it has reached 3k reads. I appreciate all the love and support the people on Wattpad have given me; they were there when I first started. It has only recently been posted on Archive of Our Own; it has a very small amount of clicks at the moment.

Still need some convincing? Here's a snippet from an earlier chapter:

This was a very bad idea. Jade hastily broke off another piece of bread, hoping to finish soon or that the topic would change. She heard the doors open, and a hush came over the crowd, even as the electronic music continued to pulse, and the lights flashed. Jade risked a look over her shoulder, then looked away, her nerves spiking.

Omega's brothers.

She felt guilty and a bit worried. Did they believe the rumors going around? Did they know what she looked like? She assumed they began walking at a casual, non-threatening pace, as the chatter increased in volume again.

"Please don't come over here, please don't –"

Jade's inward begging would do no good; they were already heading for the counter. Jade lifted her face and tried to relax. If she didn't want them to notice her, she needed to be as calm as possible. She stopped tapping her foot, realizing she was doing it without thinking. Jade glanced to her left as the one with the bandana arrived at the counter first, waiting for the bartender. The one with the prosthetic arm was paying close attention to the bartender's conversation with the other men, frowning. Well, that wasn't a good sign. Jade drank more water, finishing it off. As long as she got out in time, she would be fine. She hoped the bartender would stay with the men a bit longer, but he noticed his new guests, coming to face the one with the bandana.

"Alright, men. What are you having?"

"We're looking for someone," the leader of the group – it seemed – stated.

"Do I look like a directory?" the bartender scoffed, clearly annoyed with the appearance of multiple unique guests.

"Maybe those men know more about it than you do," the frowning one pointed to the other side of the counter, where the three men discussing rumors with the bartender were seated.

"You mean that girl that was snatched?" the bartender questioned, turning his head to raise his voice. "Joe, what did you hear about this?"

Joe sighed, throwing up his hands. Jade carefully pushed her plate away and turned in her seat, staring instead at the booths against the wall. She fumbled a bit as she closed up her thigh bag, and the stool made a quiet squeak. Jade cringed, but she couldn't feel any eyes on her. Not yet at least.

"She had some sort of help, or else she was being set up. At any rate, she wasn't alone."

Jade froze, knowing what would come next.

"There was a woman with her, an older teenager. In fact, I'm almost entirely sure that's her, at the end of the counter. Whatever you're going to do, grab her fast. She doesn't look like much, and she keeps to herself, but she's armed."

He was talking in hushed tones, and Jade wasn't sure if she had even heard him right, but there was no mistaking the shuffle of feet.

"So much for being done with running for the day," Jade thought, and she slid off of the stool and ran, straight for the door.

#star wars #sw tbb #the bad batch #bad batch #tbb #clone force 99 #clone troopers #tbb hunter #tbb omega #tbb echo #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfictions #fanfic #fanfics #ao3 fanfic #wattpad fanfiction #writing #fanfic writing #fanfiction writer #ao3 writer #ao3 link #wattpad link #wattpad #archive of our own

[lulu2992]

So Greg Bryk regularly goes live on Instagram to chat with his followers and answer a few questions, and almost every time, someone asks if he’d like to play Joseph Seed again if he had the chance, to which he used to always reply that, yes, he absolutely would. However, in early 2022, he didn’t seem so sure anymore and said it would depend on the script (the question was specifically about a potential Far Cry 5 movie) and the writer(s). Then, a few months later, he implied he didn’t feel like playing the Father ever again because he thought the character’s story was “finished” and that Ubisoft should focus on creating new things instead…

Well, on October 14, 2023, he once again went live on Instagram and, when people mentioned Far Cry 5 in the chat, he revealed that he had reached out to Dan Hay and Drew Holmes, two of the game’s three main writers he’s become friends with, and that they had visited him “on set” (I’m not sure what he was shooting) the day before. In the past, he had already explained several times that he had loved working with them and thought the story they wrote (along with “JS”, Jean-Sébastien Décant, the game’s third main writer) was fantastic. This time, he added that Far Cry 5 was really “special” to him because the writers “cared a lot” about creating something great with amazing characters, and that he thought the whole Seed family was really well-written.

A few minutes later, when he was asked which character he would like to play again if he could, he said it was hard for him to choose because he loves them all, but he eventually picked Jeremy Danvers (Bitten) and Cobbs Pond (Frontier).

Then, surprisingly, he also mentioned Joseph.

I don’t know why he changed his mind again or if the fact he contacted Dan Hay (who doesn’t work for Ubisoft anymore) and Drew Holmes (who recently became the new IP Director for Far Cry) means anything, and I’m not sure I want more Far Cry 5 content to be released anyway (for continuity reasons), but I guess the Seed family’s return, as equally exciting and truly terrifying as this eventuality sounds to me, isn’t completely out of the question anymore in Greg Bryk’s mind!

#someone also asked if the book of joseph was canon but as expected he had no idea #actors rarely know that stuff and I’m not even sure he got to read it... #but yeah the boys’ awful childhood is definitely canon the writers have talked about it several times #far cry 5 #joseph seed #greg bryk #okay but... listen #I wondered if I was just imagining things when he first mentioned collapse during a live stream and I thought he looked a bit upset #the dlc wasn’t out yet but I was pessimistic so I concluded my fear probably was the reason he seemed unenthusiastic/disappointed to me #then when he said he didn’t feel like playing joseph anymore I once again wondered if it was because of collapse (which was now out) #but I told myself I was most likely influenced by my own negative opinion and he simply wanted to focus on new projects #but... now he’s happily talking about the original writers and how much they 'cared' about making something good #and he seems really enthusiatic again about possibly reprising the role in the future #so is he implying that he thought the other writers (the dlc’s)... didn’t 'care'? #does he also think there were problems with the seeds’ characterization in collapse?? #is it possible that I wasn’t just projecting after all??? #???? #...okay maybe I’m still projecting #but the timing is a bit suspicious isn’t it?

[etchedstars]

i am in real genuine shock what the fuck did i just read. (finished the house on the cerulean sea)

#I CRIED. GENUINELY. #oh my god. oh my god oh my god #im never going to be able to read this book for the first time again #emotionally destroyed in the best way possible i want to live in this book i want to cry i want to get run over by a truck i want a hug #etc #the overdue asteroid strikes again #the house on the cerulean sea #tj klune

[ziracona]

I’m going to be thinking about this

One panel of comic for the next 8 years of my life

#Batman #Two-Face #batman gotham adventures #TwoBats #kind of???? Batman/Bruce loves him so much I can’t get over the innate tragedy and love of this relationship like you know what??? #you know what’s ungodly good and fucked up???? that tragedy permeates every inch of Bruce and Harvey’s relationship more deeply than any #other element possibly could but one and the one thread thicker in the relationship’s entire being is love #it’s a tragedy it’s tragic but it is never /quite/ as fucked up and tragic and it is deeply deeply kind and sweet and full of love and the #kind of hope that only exists at all because of it. the way Bruce in BtAS immediately starts reading books on the disorder before he even #sees him again? the letting himself almsot get shot to get through? Telltale finishing his bloody fight in the ruined front hall of his own #home by telling him ‘I still believe in Harvey Dent’. ?? The way movie The Long Halloween Bats doesn’t even know Harvey /super/ well by most #human standards but Bruce has literally no friends and never had except Alfred and Gordon so to him this is one of his closest friends and #that’s not a joke it’s real? when he spends the entire last third of part 2 desperately trying to help and telling everyone Harvey’s his #friend and needs help?? it’s real. when he tells Gilda ‘he was my friend and I failed him’? when he compromises his code in a massive way #for the first time and let’s someone get away with murders so Harvey can retain the one little piece of anything he still has which is #having protected the perosn he loves? it’s real. he means it. that’s his best friend. #they’re so *makes incomprehensible upset hand gestures*

[givemaycoffee]

.

#I just reread all of pride and prejudice in a day #and was amused to discover that this was the first time J had witnessed me do such a thing #I was surprised but then remembered that most of the time these days I’ve been reading long ass fantasy books #that simply defy such a possibility #he also has no idea how quickly I eat through fanfics #pride and prejudice was around 124K words if I remember correctly (looked it up earlier) #so anyway #I am now obsessed with P&P once again #and have just finished reading a P&P fanfic - which lemme just say - I am so glad they exist #I wasn’t sure they would #j was confident they must #and he was right! I want to read more but I sadly do need sleep