#me: maybe they already edited out the footage of them making out on the couch and this is all they had left. did you consider that

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

What if Bam and fem reader made a sex tape like the shitty one he made with Jenn. Maybe it would be a little better in quality lol, “but babe, it’s art”

Kinky Dealbreakers

Y/N and Bam make a home movie ;)

Bam Margera X Fem!Reader

1.1k Words

Warnings: Very suggestive content, accidental voyeurism, mention of sex toys, crude language

An: Thank you for this request!! Apologies for taking a bit of a break but I’m back and better than ever! XD I have yet to stumble upon actual footage of these sex tapes, but from what I’ve heard about them online I hope to keep it that way! Anyways, please keep sending in requests!

Neither you nor Bam were really paying attention to the tv as the two of you laid on the couch together, the only light in the room coming from the screen cascading over you. Laying against his warm chest, you lazily traced the dark, swirling ink of the heartagram tattoo on his lower stomach, humming softly to yourself. He watched you through half lidded eyes, running a hand through your hair affectionately. Bam suddenly broke the hour’s long silence, startling you a little, “Hey, Y/N.” You jumped, but after you caught your breath, you could pick up on a hint of mischief in his voice as your boyfriend continued, “I’ve been thinkin’ about somethin…” Consider your curiosity piqued, “What?” Glancing up at him, you saw a little glimmer in his eye as he turned to get a little close to you, his voice almost a whisper. “Wanna make a sex tape?”

And boy, were you paying attention now. Of course, you weren’t surprised- Bam had made a handful of pornos before so it was only a matter of time he asked you to do one. Honestly, you’d be all gung-ho to hop in front of the camera with him if it wasn’t for one thing- all of them were god awful. He could sense your apprehension and, reading your mind, he reached a hand down, speaking softly as he held your cheek and reassured you, “C’mon…you’re way prettier than those other chicks. Besides, nobody but us is gonna see it.” Your eyes met his cautiously, “Really? None of your idiot friends?” Bam chuckled, “Of course.” His hand returned to your hair, gently massaging your scalp, “Don’t worry, babe. This is gonna be a work of art.”

“But,” You stipulated, “I have some rules.” Your boyfriend shrugged, apparently very pleased at himself from the grin plastered on his face. He did a ‘lay it on me’ gesture with one hand, “Alright, lemme hear ‘em.” After thinking for a moment, you held up a finger and began, “One: You can’t slap my ass.” As the words fell from your lips, a grin spread across your face as your boyfriend groaned, his head falling to one side as he nodded. You were very pleased at how much power you held over him, “Two- and I cannot stress this enough- this is gonna be seen by nobody but us, understand? I don't want us screwing to end up as a DVD extra.”

He nodded, “Okay, okay- got it. Listen, I've already got everything all planned out, so there’s nothing for you to worry about.” You felt his hand stroking your back, his palm feeling so warm on your skin. Bam leaned closer to you, so near that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your ear as he spoke into your ear, his words slow and filled with intention, “Nothin’ too fancy- just you and me on the bed…little touching, little making out…some nipple clamps-“ You stopped him there, “Okay, third thing! No kinky shit like- like nipple clamps!”

Of course, after all the fun is over, that just leaves the work in the editing room, which was, more often than not, very tedious. For example, the two of you had spent the past twenty arguing over what song would be in the background. Predictably, Bam wanted to go with a H.I.M song, which you shut down because A, all his other pornos had H.I.M songs in the background and B, your idea was leagues better. “Come on, Bam!” You pleaded, holding out the Rammstein CD to him, “Rein Raus is perfect for this! I mean- are you even listening to me?” He groaned in response, still hunched over his computer. Fingers clicking away, the blue tinted screen glowed against his pale skin as he replied, not even turning to look at you, “C’mon. It’s not that deep, babe.”

“Yeah?” You scoffed, “Well you’re not the one showin’ off their tits, Mr. Blur-My-Dick!” He was caught off guard, his fingers stilling on the keyboard as his eyes went wide. After a bit, he sighed and held his hand out, “You got me there…” You giggled to yourself, handing him the disc. Curriously, you peered at the screen as he worked “Almost done?” Bam nodded as he slipped the disc into one of the many computer apparatuses that littered his desk. It was a wonder he knew what anything was amongst the winding tangle of wires and ports. There were two gray computers that each weighed at least forty pounds a piece, not to mention the thick, silver tv monster on one table he usually used to review footage. This was what you were staring at when you caught something out of the corner of your eye. Squinting in the low light, you didn’t believe what you thought you saw in the window. “What the fuck…?”

Bam looked over your shoulder, his eyes going wide, “Fucking Dico!” Before you knew it, his silver flip phone was already opened and turned to speaker. Luckily, the man on the other line picked up fast, “Oh, hey dude.” Bam barely gave him time to get those words out, leaning back in his chair, “Dude, what the fuck! I’m- im making this video,” He looked over at you as he phrased it carefully, “an’im watching the thing back, and you’re in the fuckin’ background!” Dico chuckled and you could practically see that dorky grin on his face through the phone, “Oh, you mean Saturday?” Yep, he knew. Your boyfriend’s eyes shot back to the monitor, his brow furrowing, “Yes, Saturday! What the hell were you doing?!” He glared down at the phone as if was really in the same room with him as he listened to the explanation, “Well, you weren’t picking up your phone, so I came over- but you weren’t opening the door either, so I went to check the window!” Shaking his head, Bam sighed, exasperated, “Fine..how long were you there for?” Dico seemed unbothered, shrugging, “Only a couple minutes.”

After a long silence from you, you felt compelled to speak, leaning closer to Bam’s phone, “Yeah, I can see you were there for a couple minutes! Your ugly fuckin’ mug’s right there!” A laugh echoed through the tinny speakers of the flip phone. You were about to tell him how not funny this was. Dico spoke first, trying to fix the situation in a very Dico way, “C,mon, it’s fine! Don’t worry about it! Hell, if you really want, you two could always just shoot another one!”

#jackass #bam margera #brandon dicamillo #jackass fanfiction #jackass fanfic #jackass x reader #bam margera x reader

[grandhotelabyss]

Here you go, a forlorn occasion to keep this semi-promise from a few weeks ago, but when else, I suppose?—

Maybe someday I’ll post the other good poem I wrote in that period, “and Aphasia and,” written in a daze the day after Columbine and within an hour of first reading “When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d.”

Pretty overwritten, overwrought, but I still like it. I don’t know what I was thinking really. It was a Wednesday night, April 21, 1999, of course. I always had Wednesday nights to myself. That was the night my mother and stepfather would go out to “play nine holes”—in quotation marks because this phrase holds no reality for me—with their friends. I was between bouts of relationship drama, so no two-hour phone calls with their squalls of laughter and tears. I was watching the news, one of those weekly shows with Diane Sawyer or whoever, replaying the disaster footage, a helicopter shot of kids spilling out of the school, grainy footage of Dylan and Eric. That morning, at my school, all the goth kids had been called in to speak with the principal. I think he just asked them if they were okay, not murderously alienated. I only dressed all in black and wore glitter on my face on Fridays, what I called my “goth day”—I didn’t want to be entirely pinned down—so I didn’t qualify for the summons. Our curmudgeonly first-period teacher, an old physics savant pressured to make a statement, told us, and little did he know, “You don’t want to live in a society where something like this is impossible”—because it wouldn’t be a free society. 

Two weeks later the rumor went around that somebody was going to shoot up the school on May 5, that it would be—where did rumors come from before everyone was online?—the “Cinco de Mayo Massacre.” It was supposed to happen between fifth and sixth periods. Many parents kept their kids out of school that day. (Not mine: my immigrant mother’s son was going to work for the American dream every day of the week. This is a terrible literary cliché but also the way it really happened. Some people will see what I mean.) The assistant principal came over the P.A. and in his nasal whine said they had no evidence there would be any such massacre. He pronounced “Mayo” as in “mayo,” the condiment. We took the whole thing in a spirit of solemn hilariousness; somehow this was thought to be a credible threat, by us if not by the administration, I don’t remember why. Fifth period was art class, my friends and I exchanged half-serious, half-ironic sentimentalities, what we meant to one another, just in case we went out and didn’t come back. When I got to sixth-period English, the teacher congratulated us for having survived. She passed out candy to celebrate.

But back on April 21st, a Wednesday, alone in the house on golf night, I read, for the first time and aloud, Whitman’s great elegy “When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d,” and then I leapt up from the couch and got a pencil and notebook and wrote this poem. I’d found the word “aphasia” scrawled on an English textbook; after I looked the word up in my enormous unabridged dictionary, I thought the gesture was ironic, and that the word, purely as sound, not as meaning, would be a pretty name for a girl. The observation about the word “and,” and maybe even its association with rivers, I think I swiped from a passage in a critical essay about Hemingway’s use of parataxis (I wrote my junior research paper on A Farewell to Arms). And that’s that. I edited the high school literary journal, so I put it at the end of that year’s edition, granting myself the privilege of the finale. (I already warned you: I’m not Simone Weil. I’m not trying to starve myself here. I will never be a saint.)  

I suppose there’s some adolescent male rescue fantasy at work in the poem’s implied narrative, but whatever, that’s a real feeling too. Mostly I just wanted to put words together in that way. You don’t have to have Peter Thiel money to be fucking sick of the exterminationist fantasy of eliminating “ontological evil,” this belief that whole fundamental states of human being and feeling can just be sheared clean off the world and then everything will be fine, because they can’t and it won’t. I mean, somebody left a comment on that Ethel Cain profile in the New York Times saying, and I quote, “Sounds like J. D. Vance.” What goes through people’s minds? It’s a poem. It’s not that it’s not important—it can be the most important thing in the world—but only if you relax. I miss those days of innocent creation, when the world felt newer, when it just came right out of your fingers. Ethel gets it:

grew up under yellow light on the street putting too much faith in the make believe

[...]

say what you want but say it like you mean it with your fists for once a long, cold war with your kids at the front

I’m not going to put up all my juvenilia, don’t worry, just whatever I come across that holds up. If I resent autofiction, it’s because I think the calculated lack of filter disrespects the purpose of a book, which should be shapely. So I would never in a million years write something like Knausgaard or, for example, Fuccboi (I finally caught up with his Contain episode and he did seem like a cool guy so I read the first chapter online but something in me still resists). Out here online, though, where we distribute our personae over the stream in a thousand bits and pieces, that’s a different type of art, of necessity a bit formless, of necessity an art of the self, or anyway a self.

Some people come here, I’m sure, for the politics not the poetry, but I have no grand theory or rhetoric about the occasion. Mostly I think reporting local crimes as apocalyptic national news events is actually causal in these matters and that journalists should stop. I have grimmer fears beyond that, but that’s all they are, fears. I only ever skimmed Programmed to Kill. Really, I don’t even want to know. I recently wrote a novel set in 1999, The Class of 2000, but I thought it would be cheap and tasteless to go on and on about Columbine, still less to echo the events with similar happenings in the narrative. There are two blink-and-you’ll-miss-it allusions, separated by more than 200 pages, when two different adult characters fear that my teen hero is a danger. First,

“What if there’s something wrong with him after all this? What if violence runs in that family? You know, think about those two little shits out in Colorado.”

And then:

What if Jack’s serious, furtive, troubled son had finally snapped, gone on the full Dylan and Eric ride, and set fire to a house in which he had never been happy? She liked that about the kid, though—she could never predict what he would do. He might do anything. It added a bit of excitement to her life.

Just emotional coloring, as it is to the poem it inspired and with which it has nothing to do. More than the poem I see something in the memory: jump up off the couch and try to create something beautiful!

#poetry #creative writing #columbine

[jschllatt]

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 | 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

Prompt: (Based off of the song I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys) Clay’s recent fame leads to a difficult decision to be made. Months later, he’s still regretful. You seem to be fine, so why can’t he move on, too? 

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, slight angst

Pairing: Dream x GN!Reader

Words: 2.5k

Masterlist

I spent a week on this and idk how I feel about it but I hope you enjoy <3

Clay had been consumed by an overwhelming emptiness, his entire body hollow as the lack of your presence took its toll. 

Two months. Two devastating months had passed since he’d made a grave mistake, and now he was facing the agonous repercussions. He was a mess—anyone could see it. Between his long, disheveled hair, the light scruff that covered his face, and his bloodshot eyes, it was clear that Clay’s mind had been somewhere else. And it had been. Every passing second was a constant reminder of his solitude, causing the emptiness in his heart to evolve into a deep, incessant void, no longer inhabited by the happiness you had ingrained in him just months before. Why? Clay was overcome with a sense of deep regret as a result of your absence, feeling more alone than he ever had before. What could have possibly happened to make him feel this way? To make you leave? The answer was rather simple—he was just too damn busy. 

Clay had dedicated a considerable amount of time to his career, filming or streaming during the little free time he had. As he grew more popular, the time that you had spent in each other’s presence dwindled significantly, each day becoming lonelier than the last. Your interactions with him had shortened drastically—what were once long, lingering kisses placed on your forehead had devolved into chaste pecks, void of any true care or meaning. While you understood entirely that Clay’s career was important, you found yourself slowly losing hope.

You realized it one day as he was filming. 

It was a day no different from the last. Clay was recording a Manhunt video in his office, his voice shrill as he begged his friends for mercy. He was always loud when he filmed, and though you had chastised him for it countless times, he never listened. A loud sigh escaped your lips, going unheard, and you shifted your position on the couch, uncomfortable. Everyday seemed to be the same—each as lonely and frustrating as the last. Clay’s ignorance only fueled your apathy towards your relationship more, and you couldn’t help but find yourself growing hopeless at the thought of Clay being unaware of your unhappiness. Your troubled thoughts continued until a week had passed—a long, grueling week in which you had hopelessly tried to burrow your apathetic thoughts. But you couldn’t. You were giving up. The realization of your unhappiness made a pit grow in your stomach. You knew that you cared about Clay, but you couldn’t keep living the way you were—tired, unacknowledged, pitiful. 

And so, you let him go.

Clay was editing by the time you gathered the courage to face him, your stomach nauseous as you approached his office door. A light knock signaled your presence, and Clay muttered a quiet ‘come in,’ his voice raspy after hours of unuse. Blowing out a breath, you entered the room, your expression sullen upon noticing Clay’s inattentiveness. His eyes were still glued to his monitor, deeply focused on editing rather than your presence. You waited for a few seconds, silently hoping he would pay you any mind, but he didn’t. A wave of disappointment washed over you, though you managed to keep your voice steady as you declared, “We should break up.” Clay tensed in his seat, suddenly fixated on your words rather than the hours worth of footage he was editing. His chair turned with a quiet squeak as he swiveled around to face you. “What?” You sensed the subtle indignation of his tone as he squinted confusedly at your abrupt words. “We should break up.” You were much quieter this time, unable to meet his eyes as your words died silently in the tense air. You wrung your hands together anxiously as you leaned back on your heels, feeling awkward under Clay’s intense gaze. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe you should’ve just stayed quiet and dealt with it. Maybe—

“Okay.” 

Immediately, your eyes flickered up to meet his, filled with a silent desperation as you searched his emerald irises for any indication of his intentions. Nothing. 

“Okay?”

Clay remained silent for a moment, his body stiff as he leaned back in his noisy chair. His expression was inscrutable as he stared at you blankly, trying to find the right words to say as he watched your face remain solemn at his confound brevity. His voice was level as he spoke, “I know I’ve been busy lately. We haven’t spent a lot of time together and that’s my fault. I could sit here and promise to change, but we both know I can’t—not right now.” Though you felt your heart shatter, you knew he was right. His job was too important, too time consuming.

A nod signaled your understanding and you turned to leave, feeling overwhelmingly dejected. 

“Hey.” You turned around to meet Clay’s eyes, noticing the hurt that was settled in them. “I hope you know I care about you.” You fought the urge to cry and shot him a watery smile, struggling to keep your tone unwavering as you agreed, “Me too.”

Two months had passed. 

Clay had been struggling. Everyone knew it—his friends, family, even his fans. It was clear that the once cheerful, happy man had become melancholy, suddenly depressed and unable to hide his unhappiness on camera. There had been numerous speculations of why this was, but only few knew the truth. Sapnap was among one of them and had been staying at Clay’s for the past month, creating content with his best friend while simultaneously making sure he was okay. Though two months had passed, Clay was still a mess. Perhaps it was because it hadn’t hit him that day. He had momentarily convinced himself that his career was more important than you, but deep down he knew that wasn’t true. He wanted so desperately to reach out to you, but assumed you had moved on—another incorrect belief of his. Clay cooped himself up in his home, never leaving unless it was urgent. He had sunken into a deep depression and the only remedy for his pain was you. You. He treated you so poorly. Everyday was a constant reminder of your absence and it was his fault. He could’ve made more time for you, or at least spent the free time he had with you. 

Remorseful thoughts ran through his head everyday, nearly driving himself crazy, and Sapnap knew he needed to get Clay out of the house. 

“There’s a party tonight, I think we should go.” Clay immediately denied the offer with a shake of his head, grumbling to himself. His best friend sighed indignantly, blowing out a breath of frustration before stating, “You don’t have a choice, you need to get out of the house.” Sapnap stood his ground, arms crossed as he stared at Clay sternly. A minute had passed and Clay, aware of his best friend’s stubbornness, gave in begrudgingly, “Fine, but only for an hour.” Sapnap grinned triumphantly, exiting the room with a smirk. He slammed the door behind him, heading back to his room while yelling, “And shave, for fuck sake.” Clay shook his head, cracking a small smile at his friend’s words.

The party was overwhelming to say the least. Bodies swarmed the crowded living room, reeking of alcohol and sweat. Music blared from a speaker, a shrill, nearly deafening melody that was sure to give Clay a headache by the end of the night. The room was buzzing with conversation, every word drowning out in the loud atmosphere. Almost immediately, Clay was passed a beer, and he lifted the bottle to his lips to take a swig. If Sapnap was going to make him stay here, he may as well take some edge off while doing so. A few minutes had passed and he finished the bottle, discarding it in a bin nearby. “I’m gonna go get another drink.” Clay muttered to Sapnap, who was talking loudly to a group of people he’d recognized. His best friend patted his back in response, chuckling as he gave him a playful shove towards the kitchen. Stumbling through the drunken crowd, Clay soon broke free as he neared his destination. He grabbed a beer, opening it skillfully off of the edge of a table, and turned around wordlessly. Taking a big sip, he hoped to free his mind from thoughts of you. Though he wasn’t one to drink, especially when upset, Clay knew that, aside from you, alcohol was the only other solution to temporarily mask his pain. He’d already drank half before he warned himself to slow down, knowing that if he got too drunk, he’d probably do something he regretted. Turning around so he could rejoin Sapnap, Clay nearly dropped his drink on the floor, feeling his heart drop. 

His eyes met yours. And then, he heard the music. 

I wanna be your vacuum cleaner

Breathin’ in your dust.

Clay felt his breath hitch in his throat, noticing the surprise in your eyes as you stared at him, astonished. As he stood there, staring at you shamelessly, he regretted it—everything. He regretted how he neglected you, ignored you, prioritized all of the wrong things when the only right thing in his life was right in front of him: you. Memories flashed before his eyes, quick and familiar, yet saddening all the same. The way you smiled at him from across the room when he was filming, the way you held him when he was stressed, the way you spoke to him, softly, while he was streaming to check up on him. Everything.

I wanna be your Ford Cortina

I will never rust

You looked away, suddenly nervous, though the eye contact was all-too-familiar. You felt your heart begin to race as you processed every detail of Clay’s face—from his anxious expression to the dark circles beneath his eyes. He looked like a mess. But so did you. You mirrored most of his tired, dejected qualities because you, too, were hurting. 

If you like your coffee hot

Let me be your coffee pot

Snapping you out of your daze, you felt a tug on your arm. “Hey, you alright?” Your friend asked worriedly. Nodding briskly, you muttered a quiet ‘yeah’ and smiled in a poor attempt to sound convincing. Seconds passed, and you could still feel the intensity of Clay’s burning gaze as your friend tugged you through the crowd, handing you a drink in the process. You dared to look up, instantly locking eyes with Clay, and swallowed thickly. You knew you couldn’t avoid him forever, not when he was looking at you like that—desperate, longing. 

You call the shots, babe

I just wanna be yours

Lifting up the red solo cup to your lips, you downed its contents quickly, eliciting a few laughs and impressed hollers from your friends. You were never the type to drink, but you felt that it was necessary, especially when you knew Clay was still staring at you intently. Downing another shot, you risked glancing up towards Clay, but he was gone. Suddenly anxious as a result of his absence, you surveyed the room. Nothing. “I’m gonna go get a drink.” You said before you could stop yourself, not giving your friends the chance to answer you before you ventured into the kitchen. You tried to dodge the swaying, drunken bodies as you made your way quickly into the room, frowning upon entry. Clay wasn’t there either. You sighed, frustrated, and grabbed a beer, struggling to open it. You nearly laughed at your incompetence, feeling sadly nostalgic despite the humor you found in your struggles—Clay had always opened your beers, then teased you for being incapable. You fought back an onslaught of tears at the memory and sighed deeply, leaning against the table with your head in your hands. 

Secrets I have held in my heart.

“Hey.” Your body jolted at the sound of his voice. Daring to turn around, you felt your chest constrict at the sight of him clutching your now-opened beer, a sad smile plastered on his tired features. 

Are harder to hide than I thought. 

“Hey.” You breathed. Clay passed the beer to your shaking hand, trying to ignore the way his fingers brushed against yours. Chewing on the inside of his cheek nervously as he tried to find the right words to say, Clay admitted, “I’m sorry.” A few quiet moments passed, though they felt like an eternity, and you replied simply,  “Don’t be.” You tried to hide the tremor that shook your arm as you took another swig of your beer, noticing how Clay’s face fell in sudden disappointment. What? Did you say the wrong thing? You didn’t want Clay to feel guilty, to blame himself for your failed relationship though it was mostly his fault. Why? Because you cared about him. You could immediately sense the despair that washed over him. And, though you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol coursing through your veins or the pure adrenaline from the moment, you hugged him. 

Maybe I just wanna be yours

I wanna be yours

I wanna be yours

Clay tensed at your touch, wondering if the beer had gotten to him or if this really was happening. It was. He soon wrapped his arms around your waist, grip purposeful as he tugged you into him. Your head rested against his chest, the steady thumping of his heartbeat in your ear far more of a melodic sound compared to any music you’d ever listened to.

Wanna be yours

Clay swayed the two of you softly, resting his chin atop your head. You clung to him tightly, shutting your eyes as he held you, gentle. “I missed you so much.” You admitted before your mind could even process it. Clay chuckled, lowering his head so his lips were close to your ear, “I missed you more, baby.” You tried to fight the grin that plastered itself on your face as you took in his words, squeezing his torso with such force you were sure he’d explode. Clay went to speak again, caressing your sides so gently you could barely feel it, before being interrupted. 

“Holy shit, there you are, dumbass!” 

Sapnap. 

Clay pulled away from you to glare at his best friend, trying to ignore the shit eating grin on Sapnap’s face as he glanced at you. “My bad, I didn’t mean to interrupt...whatever the hell I just interrupted. I just wanted to make sure you were alright, but you clearly are.” Before either of you could respond, he left, shooting his friend a thumbs up before disappearing into the crowd. You couldn’t help but laugh at the interaction, noticing the slight rosiness Clay’s cheeks had suddenly sported, embarrassed. “Sorry about that, he…” Clay struggled to find the perfect word to describe his best friend, but trailed off. “Yeah.” You agreed, seemingly understanding what he meant despite his silence. Clay laughed, then. The sound was music to your ears, and when his smile faded, the two of you were serious again. Clay’s hand found refuge in yours as he began to speak, his face solemn as he confessed, “I lied. I can change. I will right now if you want me to—I’d do anything for you.” 

Wanna be yours

You smiled lovingly at the man, interlocking the fingers of his hand that wasn’t already occupied in yours, and pulled him closer to you, wanting him near. 

Wanna be yours

“Deal.”

#dream imagine #dreamwastaken imagine #dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dream angst #dreamwastaken angst #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt angst

[drakenology]

would you ever write abt hq boyfriend sending your nudes/videos of fuckin to a group chat -🐮

this- it’s wrong but so right at the same time. thank you nonnie.

Video Phone - ft. Miya Osamu, Nishinoya, Kuroo and Oikawa.

author’s note: ok like the way I had the perfect photo edited for this kind of hc. i had an idea like this but it rotted in the drafts heh. hope you like this!

warnings: smut, mentions of creampie, daddy kink, college aged bois, voyeurism?, male receiving oral, noya being a himbo, dirty talk, slight degradation

Osamu

would send them to the team for sure.

he likes showing you off.

like he highkey wants to do porn with you kssk so this is his way of uh.. getting your content out there

he’ll record everything.

sessions upon sessions saturate this man’s camera roll.

and why not share that with his friends? who is he to deny them the privilege of watching him fuck you into a dirty little cockslut?

you kinda like it so.. why not?

Osamu was feeling friskier than usual; which wasn’t a problem for you since the way that motherfucker looked at you with such unadulterated hunger was enough to wet your panties.

That ‘look’ got you riding his fat cock on the couch, Osamu’s hand holding his phone to record your sloppy cunt the other smacking your ass and fondling your tits.

You kinda knew he was going to send the footage to his entourage which was embarrassing at first. But you found yourself loving the lewd texts his friends send about you; the attention going straight to your pussy. Osamu noticed you liked being recorded when your cunt clenched whenever a camera was pointed at it.

“Ya like putting on a show for my teammates, don’t ya?” Osamu inquires, taking a thumb to toy with your swollen bud. You moan back at him, playing with your nipples and licking your lips as you bounced on his dick, feet planted into the couch. Osamu made sure to get that on film, the sight of you pinching at your nipples made him lose all sense of composure.

Poor boy had no other choice but to throw the phone off to the side to grab your hips and thrust upwards, your screams echoing through the living room. You drool as he praised your sopping wet pussy’s symphony, the sounds of your juices gushing all over his dick was the perfect touch to his latest addition.

“Mmm listen ta that baby, tape’s still goin’. Tell my friends how well I’m fucking ya, will ya? Scream f’me.”

Nishinoya

Yū loves taking pictures of you.

Naked or fully clothed.

He has about a million pictures of you; videos too.

Most of them were really lewd; your supple breasts or that sweet cunt he loves fucking.

even has a gnarly creampie video he revists when you’re not around to dump his load inside.

Tried to put them all in the hidden folder and-

Sent em by accident sksjjsj

looked up “how to unsend photos” a million times

no luck lmao.

Of course everyone saw it. Even Hinata was like “gah damn”.

But you told him you didn’t really mind. In fact it was kinda hot that his friends lusted after you.

ever since then yall have made fucking on camera a nice way to bond.

lol.

Nishinoya was embarrassed. Actually he was mortified. He had so much porn in his phone. This he knew. He was tired of directing people not to scroll when he showed someone pictures on his phone; knowing they were gonna get an eyeful of your dripping pussy clenching around his dick. So he decided to clean up his act and simply put all the personal porn in a hidden folder.

Maybe it was when you came into his room and kissed him on the cheek that made him fuck up. Either way, his whole team has seen you naked, spread out and getting absolutely wrecked about thirty different ways.

“Fuck sake, Noya. Didn’t wanna see your balls, man.”

“Shit, Y/N’s pretty sexy.”

“Y/N’s ass is pretty fat.”

“Omg her moans..”

“Woah woah woah! She’s MY girlfriend, don’t talk about her like that.... but ikr.”

You read the texts aloud as Nishinoya frantically tells the story of how it all went down for the third time just in case you didn’t already believe him. Poor boy was so worried you’d be mad. But you feel yourself get hot, the thought of one of his friends stroking their cocks to the sight of you all too intriguing.

So you convince him to record you sucking his dick. And what man would say no to that?

You take Nishinoya’s cock in your mouth, moaning around him as your eyes find the camera.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He huffs, so astounded he almost drops his phone. He loved it all; your drool covering his cock, the sounds of your gagging as you take him in the back of your throat, your enthusiastic moans. You blink at the camera as you completely swallow his dick whole, stuffing your mouth with his length as he groans filthy praise.

“S’ good baby. Fuck.” He moans, bucking his hips to fuck your mouth, balling some of your hair into a fist.

ahem.. yeah the groupchat got to see that one too.

Kuroo

Nasty mf likes sending these pics to the groupchat.

He takes the pics for the sole purpose of showing his friends how sexy you are, how well you take his cock.

He’s captain of the volleyball team; even in college he’s the coolest guy around.

Of course the captain had to have a beautiful cum dump girlfriend that the whole campus wants

He sends those videos and pictures because he knows you belong to him anways

why not let everyone know?

“Fuck, Tetsu!” You gripe, your insides coiling as Kuroo stroked your gummy walls from behind. He responds by gripping you by the hair, turning your face towards the camera for his potential viewers to see.

“Go on, baby. Let ‘em know who’s pussy this is.” He grunts, digging his thumbs into your hips as his cock pushed harshly against your spongiest spots.

You can’t say much of anything, his brutal thrusts muddling any words the came from your lips. Kuroo looks at the phone he has propped up against the lamp on his nightstand and smirks, his ego growing at the thought of his pathetic friends jerking off to you, knowing only be can have the real thing whenever the fuck he wants. He puffs out his chest, smacking your ass as you sob out his name.

“Yeah, baby. Tell ‘em who you belong to.”

Oikawa

also sent them by accident

but it was a happy accident to say the least

even though it was embarrassing at first, oikawa liked the fact he got to flaunt you like a trophy

he coaxed you into letting him record you when you guys fucked; never really letting you know he was sending them to his friends from time to time.

all your unmentionables on display for his buddies to jack off to in their spare time while he gets to pounds you out every night

you’re pussy’s too good to keep all to himself right? it’d be unfair

smug bastard.

You were minding your own business, laying in bed playing animal crossing on your nintendo switch when Oikawa sat on his haunches next to you. He got the most devilish idea and the overwhelming need to fill your pussy full of his cum clouded his better judgement.

You lay there, unaware your boyfriend was plotting to fuck you senseless. He slides your shorts and panties off, grabbing his phone to start taking lewd photos of your now naked cunt.

“Show the camera your pretty pussy, princess.” He coos, rubbing circles into your clit with his thumb. You bite your lip, still trying to play your game as slick starts to gather at your core, legs involuntarily spreading.

“Look at that delicious cunt.” His slender fingers eventually make their way inside you, the digits hooking to steer your attention away. You yelp, dropping your switch onto your chest as he pulls your hips towards the edge of the bed. He switched his phone to “video” and pressed record, taking out his gorgeous dick to tease it along your folds.

“Uhhn, Torū!” You groan, craning your neck to hide the lewd look on your face away from his phone.

“You want me to fuck you on camera, don’t you baby?” He asks sliding his length inside you. Without any time to adjust to his size, he’s pumping like mad, his hand holding one of your legs open to make sure he got every angle of your slutty cunt taking his dick.

“Shit, look how you’re squeezing me , baby. So fuckin tight for daddy aren’t you? Taking me so well.”

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hcs #segsmail 🌈 #fack!

[make-a-little-mischief]

I don't care if it's early I feel like posting this now so I'm posting this now. And I think it's technically already the new year elsewhere across the globe (am I right @lilybetts?) 🙃🌏

We made it to 2022 bubbies. I hope this year brings much happiness, love, positive changes, a lightening of our hearts and spirits, as well as welcome relief and peaceful resolution to any and all hardships. I'm looking forward to more fun with Jerry and all the lovely people I've connected with because of him. And I'm looking forward to "forward" in general, in all aspects of life 😊💖⏩💨✨🎆

As a Jerry fan I also hope we get some wonderful, unexpected Jerry related surprises like more footage, more photos, more bits of Jer's legacy and his time here (and very specifically like 3 on a couch FINALLY being available in HD online maybe possibly??? that's a long-held personal vendetta I will not give up, for heaven's sake that movie deserves better, ok i'm done 😆)

And finally, I want to say THANK YOU to everyone on here who has visited my blog, left a "like" or a comment on my posts, shared them, appreciated them, laughed at them, whatever you may have done...I started this blog a few months ago and all of the positive feedback so far tells me it was a good choice and I'm motivated to keep going and keep putting out more fun, more frivolity, more smiles and more creativity into the world, just as Jerry would want it. 😊❤️

And of course, most importantly, top of my priority list - more terrifying, nightmare inducing, "dear god what is that thing" level Jerry (and possibly Dean) face swap edits. They are entirely too much fun to make and I think I have a problem. Don't send help. 🙄🥴🤣

Happy 2022. Let's make magic (that old black kind).

With love and mischief,

Mary

#happy new year #2022 #jerry lewis #that baby new year what a meshuggeneh lmao

[illfoandillfie]

Impersonal

As promised, here’s the smutty followup to yesterday’s blurb! This is the fifth post of seven in my Platonically themed event. Again, it’s not really been edited because it’s late and I’m very tired but alas, thats how it goes. 

Words: 2,278

Warning: some vague dom/sub dynamic stuff with a more dom Ben, spanking, it’s P in V sex but theres a lot of talk about butts. Also they’re still dorks. 

It had been a nice day. You and Ben had gone out with a few friends, just a little picnic in the park to catch up with everyone. If you’d been at all worried about publicly being together on a no romo day, then it was for nothing. As much as everyone there considered you and Ben to be an item, it mostly went ignored, aside from a couple of questions about how you’d gone living together so far. But having such a big lunch, everyone having brought something to share, neither of you were especially hungry at dinner time. Ben whipped up a pot of butted noodles for you to pick at as you watched TV but it was soon set aside as you shifted to lean against the arm rest with your legs stretched out to lay over Ben’s thighs. Each of you were engrossed in your phones more than the quiz show he’d flicked on, occasionally sharing something you saw or read.  

You had opened tumblr and were scrolling through your dash, pausing to read longer bits here and there but mostly just liking images and reblogging memes. Until you hit a patch of not safe for work content. One of the porn blogs you’d long since forgotten you’d followed had hit a rare patch of activity, every second post one of theirs. Those posts you paid a little more attention to, especially when videos and explicit images were involved since you knew they were likely to be taken down soon and you didn’t want to miss out on seeing something hot. Unfortunately your headphones were in another room so you weren’t game to turn the sound on for any of the videos but the visuals and erotic comments below were enough to make you feel as if the room as heated up. You could feel yourself getting wetter at each new post but couldn’t seem to stop looking at them.  

A particularly good video of a sloppy blowjob made you clench your thighs together, your foot rubbing against Ben’s thigh as a result. His palm came to rest on the top of your foot, rubbing it soothingly, though his attention was still elsewhere. In fact, his gaze didn’t shift until a little later when you were looking at a very hot gifset of a woman on all fours, crying as she was pounded from behind. He cleared his throat. You jolted a little at the sound and tried not to look too guilty as you met his eye.   “You okay?” “Mmhmm,” His eyes travelled over you from the lip between your teeth to your tightly pressed thighs and your fingers wrapped firmly around the phone.   “I don’t mean to interrupt,” he said, clearly meaning to do exactly that, “but ummmm, are you watching porn right now?” “No,” you answered too quickly. “Hey, you don’t have to hide it if you are, go nuts. I’m just a little curious about what’s turned you on so much you’re practically panting. And can I help?” “I’m not watching anything. It’s just some gifs I saw.” “Well I think QPR law states you have to show me or you’d be a big meanie.” You chuckled and handed the phone to Ben, a little curious about how he’d react.   Ben watched the gifs through a couple of times before nodding, “Yeah, that’s uhhh, that’s pretty hot,” he rubbed your foot again as he kept watching the looped footage. “Are you turned on?” “Yeah, a bit,” “Hmmm, same.” “Should we-” “Do you wanna-” You spoke at the same time and then both laughed a little as you simultaneously agreed, “Yeah.” Immediately you swung your legs around intending to walk towards the bedroom and Ben followed for about two steps before he stopped suddenly, “Wait. This is a no romo day, right? Do you still feel anti-romance?” “Yes and yeah I think so. Why?” Ben shrugged, “I don’t think we’ve ever had sex on a no romo day so...how does it work?” “Oh, good point. Well.” you wanted to keep it brief, already worked up and wanting to move to the fun part, “I think it’s probably best if we keep it on kind of the rougher side, a little impersonal even. Could you maybe hit it from behind? I’m not really sure eye contact and all that stuff would be as fun for me right now.” “No need to ask twice. My hot partner wants me to look at her gorgeous arse while I fuck her? Yeah definitely into that.” “Jesus I’d forgotten you’re an arse man.” It was true too. As much as Ben might prefer ass to tits he also enjoyed the visual stimulation of watching you – seeing the pleasure on your face, watching your body react to his. So, while doggy style was a regular position for you, variations of missionary and cowgirl were probably a little more frequent. Which was wonderful, except not what you needed right then. Ben responded by poking his tongue out you but he seemed quite as eager to move things along, “So rough doggy then? Can I spank you?” “You’d be into that?” He shrugged, “I know we haven’t really done anything kinky yet but yeah, I enjoy spanking. I mean...watching an arse jiggle after it’s hit is incredibly hot.” You giggled, “spanking is very okay then. You could be a little mean too if you wanted, maybe calling me a degrading name to get at that impersonal thing. Slut maybe.” He hummed uncertainly, “I can try it if you really want but I gotta admit I’m not as into degrading stuff as I am spanking.” “It’s fine if you don’t, whatever works. Honestly, I’m already super horny so just do whatever you’re comfortable with and don’t get too gentle or loving with it, and I’ll be happy.” “I can definitely do rough for you. For instance,” You gasped as Ben grasped your hips and turned you around, positioning you in front of the arm of the couch before he pushed you to bend over it. It was a surprise considering Ben’s typical nature. He had his controlling or domineering moments but generally seemed happiest when he was showering you in affection or letting you take charge. Adding to the surprise was the way he tugged your pants down to your knees and began to touch you through your underwear. It made you squirm, trying to find a little more friction, but he only gave you a quick spank. Not overly hard but it didn’t have to be to make you feel tingly. Just knowing Ben was capable of an action like that was hot enough. All the same he pulled your knickers down too and ran his fingers through your folds.   “Wow, okay. You meant it when you said you were horny. Pretty wet already.” “No shit Sherlock. You know I don’t need lines like that that get you interested in fucking me.” He gave you another slap for your insolence.   “Better get you stretched out then, hadn’t we?” You felt two of Ben’s fingers rest against your entrance and expected to feel them sink into you too. But it didn’t happen.   “What’s the hold up, Tiger? Ow,” the spank had been a little harder than the last.   “If you want them so bad, do it yourself.” Your breath caught as you realised what he meant and you shifted your hips back, levering yourself against the arm of the couch, until you felt his fingers penetrate you.   “That’s it Kitten. You’re too horny to wait, aren’t you? God you’ve got such a pretty arse. Giving me the best view right now. Your needy cunt soaking my fingers while your arse,” he hit you again, “jiggles. It’s making me so hard.” You whined, unable to find a better response, and rocked back against his fingers, slowly fucking yourself on them.   He let you go on like that for a little while, happy to listen to your hitched breaths and needy sighs as you got a little of what you needed. But then he pulled his fingers from you. You let out a disappointed whimper, “Ben, c’mon,” “I’m so hard from watching you be so desperate. Just gotta get my pants off. But you can play with yourself for me, can’t you?” You nodded and shifted so you could drop your fingers to your pussy. Ben gave your arse another slap, “Not what I meant Kitten. Play with your arse.” Startled by the low growl in his voice you quickly complied, leaning on the couch as your brought both hands up to grab your arse cheeks, squeezing them and pulling them apart to better show off your holes.” “That’s very good, Kitten. Spank yourself.” It wasn’t the same as when Ben spanked you since you knew what was coming and the position didn’t allow you to get as much force into your hits as he could. But it was definitely arousing and it definitely seemed to work for Ben. You’d barely registered the sound of his pants dropping before he was sliding into your wet and waiting cunt.   “I can take it from here,” Ben’s hands replaced yours, groping your arse as you dropped your arms back to the couch, though you felt it was useless to try and prop yourself up on them. It would only be a matter of time before you collapsed entirely.  

At first he kept the pace slower, letting you adjust to him, though each thrust was forceful, just as you’d asked it to be. But gradually Ben sped up, hands still playing with your cheeks, sometimes grabbing and sometimes spanking them. He tried to say more about how hot it was to take you like that but his own breath was escaping him as the words seemed to be. So he let his body talk for him as he pounded your cunt and dug his fingers into your flesh.   And then he pulled out.   You were on the verge of asking him who the fuck he thought he was when he said, “one second. Just want to try something.” and then, remembering he was meant to be acting mean, added, “And you just want me to keep fucking you, so you’re not going to complain.” In a disgruntled daze you let Ben help you up onto the back of the couch so that one leg was bent to lean against the arm he’d just had you bent over and the other dangled towards the floor. It took a little more adjustment before Ben was happy. First pulling you back towards him and the corner of the couch, and then pressing you to lean forward so your hips were raised and he could better access your pussy. You had to grab onto the back of the couch for support, digging your fingertips into the leather as Ben resumed fucking you.   The angle had changed a little and the position was slightly more awkward to maintain but it was worth it for the way your clit rubbed against the smooth leather, leaving a trail of wetness behind. Each thrust rocked your hips in such a way that you quickly found yourself getting close to release.

That, however, seemed to be Ben’s plan as he began telling you how good you were going to make him feel when he made you cum. “I know you’re close Kitten. So just cum. I want to feel your cunt on me when you do.” He lay another few spanks to your arse cheeks and that tipped you over into your orgasm.   But Ben didn’t stop.   “I th-think you can do bett-er than that,” he grit out as you clenched around him and he seemed to thrust twice as hard as he had before, “You were so,”   You grunted as he plowed into you. “So desperate before. So you can cum better than that. Right kitten?” You nodded and gasped out a, “Yes” as your arms shook with how hard Ben was fucking you.   But he didn’t relent. He kept going until he felt you tighten again and heard you moan, nearly sobbing as relief flooded your system.   That seemed to be enough for Ben and he let himself go too, holding your hip tightly as he pressed deep into you.  

Ben leaned his forehead against your back as he tried to regain his regular breathing rate and gave you a quick kiss there before he righted himself and helped you to dismount the couch. The evidence of your orgasms was still smeared across the leather but neither of you paid it any attention.   “Sorry I never called you a slut or anything,” Ben said with a slightly self-conscious chuckle, avoiding your eye as he hitched his pants back into place. “I just like Kitten better.” “Don’t be,” you said mirroring his actions to looking at him, “Kitten worked perfectly. Also, that was really good. Maybe you could be rough and mean more often?” “The double orgasm was a pretty good indication that it worked for you,” “Of shut up, I was being serious. It was really hot.” “Yes but I like teasing you, remember,” “Prick.” “That hurts,” he said with a fake gasp and a hand against his chest, “Keep talking like that and I’ll have to spank you again,” “Ha ha, very funny. Tease me all you want but we both you enjoyed it as much as I did.” “Maybe I did.” he conceded, “but I wasn’t going to hate it when I was watching your arse.” “Alright, you perv. Was there any leftover noodles? Bit peckish now.” “Yeah, in the fridge. Grab me some too would you?”

#my writing #my blurbs #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy smut #ben hardy imagine #does this make sense? who knows! #am i turned on from thinking about it? absolutely! #am i also literally about to fall asleep? yes! #its after midnight and this has been a long week! #g'night!! #platonically event

[crowdedimagines]

Leaked (Finale) Harry Styles

“You guys got to see a very raw and real side of us. It’s a bummer that it wasn’t our choice, we didn’t choose to reveal such a personal thing that happened, not to mention what else has been leaked.” I sigh, finally breaking eye contact with the camera sitting on a tripod in front of us. The fans will be getting a glimpse into Harry’s home for this video.

“I know what I signed up for when I got into this business, very little privacy, but I never expected it to come to this extreme. M’very private with my relationships, and I never want to see anyone-'' He pauses to focus himself again, I place a hand on his thigh and attempt to carry on. Against the better judgement of both Jeff and Jordan we both decided against a script, we had highlighted points we wanted to address, but didn’t want it to seem disingenuous.

“Harry and I lost a child last July.” I pick my head up letting the tears openly fall without letting myself choke over them, “And the song you guys have all heard came from that, a place of hurt and exhaustion. We never expected the world to hear it, and we never thought those pictures would be out in the world either. But that’s life isn’t it?” I laugh humorlessly.

The song was leaked a few hours ago now, my name having never left the top trending on twitter, but now Harry’s and several conspiracies have joined it. People cutting parts from it with raw and loud sobs coming from each of us, open for discussion among the whole world.

“We love you all, but please understand our choice to step back from the public for the time being.” Harry chimes in. We both look at each other and nod, feeling we addressed what we need to.

“Treat people with kindness, yeah?” I ask as we both get up from our spot on Harry’s couch.

“Yeah.” He pulls me in for a hug, as Jeff gets up to cut the camera. Our teams were both getting the footage and posting it to our accounts. Harry and I have both agreed to a break from phones for a bit.

“Okay, so this will be posted across all platforms, on both of your accounts shortly. I don’t think we’ll need to edit much.”

I walk over to the other side of the living room where Jordan is standing reading through her phone, she glances up as soon as she sees me coming. She puts on a smile, and pulls me in for a tight hug. She knows just how long the past few days have been.

“Alright, Paula and I booked flights, we’re heading out this afternoon to go home.”

“What about me?” I question.

“We both know that you need to stay here for a while.” She smiles, “Take some time to heal, just remember you two never fell out of love. Call me if you need anything.”

I glance back at Harry whose now joined by his sister and mother. I don’t want to leave, to be completely honest. The last thing I want is to have to go home to my empty house in L.A. Harry and I ran away from each other last year, maybe this is the opportunity for us to finally stop running.

Harry’s POV

“Don’t you think that you need to heal together this time? You can’t let her leave again.” My mum explains, trying to make her point, as quietly as possible. I watch as she glances over my shoulder to where Y/n must be somewhere.

“Mum, I can’t make her stay.” I shake my head. I couldn’t make her stay before, now we’ve spent so much time apart. All I want is to pull her into my arms, but I don’t know if that’s what she wants after all this time. Hell, after this week she might not ever want anything to do with me.

“No, but you can ask her.” Gemma nods her head in Y/n’s direction as she walks over to join us.

“Harry, can I talk to you?” Her voice is soft and calm. My shoulders visibly drop as I relax and follow her to the back porch. We sit in the same spot on the couch as we did yesterday.

“What’s going on, love?” I ask once we’ve both taken a seat.

“Well, Jordan and Paula are flying out this afternoon.” She says, she pulls her legs up close to her chest.

“And you?”

Please god tell me you’re staying.

“I think I might stay.” She picks up her head, “If that's alright with you.”

I can’t fight off the smile at this point. I just give her a simple nod, pulling her close to lean on my shoulder. I should’ve known that we were on the exact same page, we always have been.

“I don’t think I could go back to an empty house, to be honest.” She sighs.

“I don’t think I could let you walk out of that door again, to be honest.”

Y/n’s POV

“Do you mean that?” I ask, picking up my head, “Truly?”

He simply nods and bites at his bottom lip.

“What are we supposed to do, Harry? I don’t think we can just pick up where we left off?”

“No, but isn’t that the beauty of it? We can try again, try for a different outcome. Build on how much we already love each other.”

“Hmm, how much we already love each other?” I smirk, my tone taking on a teasing edge.

“Mhm.” Harry hums, his cheeks taking on a pink hue.

“Alright Styles, lets give this a shot.”

T W O Y E A R S L A T E R

“Hello? Is anybody home?” Anne’s voice rings out loudly as she lets herself in the front door.

I make my way downstairs, I’m sure that she’s found Harry who's in the kitchen getting dinner prepared. Gemma got here about ten minutes ago. I put on a record and go to stand in the doorway and watch the encounter. Anne gives her son a big hug, stealing a carrot from his cutting board as they make small chat to catch up.

“Hello.” I walk in, making my presence known.

“Look out you!” Anne squeals, “You’re glowing!” She immediately walks over to pull me in for a hug, her hands resting on my belly once I pull away.

“I feel like a bit of a whale, but thank you.” I smile.

“Oh hush it.” Harry scolds.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Like I’m having a baby in four weeks.”

“Yeah, and she’s still going on runs!” Harry says with a proud grin, “Every morning she gets up with me and we run a few miles.”

“It’s pretty much a fast walk for Harry though.” I smile.

“Yeah, but he isn’t forming a pancreas while he does it!” Gemma cuts in making us all laugh. “We’re more impressed with you.”

“Exactly.” Harry presses a kiss to my temple.

I join Gemma at the counter while Anne helps Harry finish cooking everything. I would help, but my ankles are too swollen by the end of the day, and I know everyone in the room would kick me out before I could even start.

“So, things have been going well with everything? You guys feeling ready to be parents?” Anne grins.

“Is anyone ready before they are?” I ask, “I’m just trying to take it one day at a time, and read as much as I can.”

“You guys will be wonderful parents.”

It means the world to hear this from Anne. It’s been weird to be in London for most of the pregnancy and away from my own mother, but it’s been a blessing to have Anne. She’s an amazing mom herself, and she hasn’t complained once over my odd and annoying questions.

“And if not they’ll have the best Aunt ever to make up for it.”

I roll my eyes and take Gemma’s hand in mine and set it on the front of my belly. Moving and adjusting to the exact spot that the little bean is kicking in.

“That’s mad.” She sighs, “I don’t think I would ever be able to get over that.”

“Harry can be like a leech sometimes! Can’t get him off.” I laugh.

“You feel it all, I’m going to steal as much time as I possibly can.”

We all sit down to eat, and catch up on everything that we’ve missed in life over the past few weeks. Ever since the pregnancy both Anne and Gemma have made an effort to come to our house as often as they can for meals, or even just a visit.

I think we were all a bit shocked to find out I was once again pregnant. Harry and I couldn’t believe it at first, I don’t think we wanted to. Didn’t want to risk getting our hopes up. It had been a year and a few months since we got back together when we found out. Four tests sitting on the counter, two thins lines on each of them.

We waited a long time before telling anyone, too afraid that it could be a repeat of what happened those years ago. Once we did finally tell our families they couldn’t be more excited. The fans were too, surprisingly. I debated pulling a Kylie Jenner and just disappearing from the world for months, but I knew I would get too stir crazy. So as soon as the bump was visible, Harry and I both confirmed it on social media.

The fans were happy for us, most of them were so disappointed and saddened about what happened, they felt bad that we were made to share things neither of us were ready too. This time we were trending for positive reasons, and I’ve never felt more supported by everyone in my life.

F O U R W E E K S L A T E R

“Love, are you sure I’m good to go to the studio?” Harry asks for the millionth time, not wanting to leave me home alone so close to my due date.

“Yes!” I laugh, pushing him closer to the door, “You actually have the time while the bean is inside me, I’ll need you here once they’re out.”

“Alright.” He says with hesitancy, “Please call me for anything. The studio isn’t even far from here, so please don’t hesitate with anything.”

“Ok, babe, just go so you can come back!”

“Promise you’ll call?”

“Yes, I promise.” I laugh, he’s always been protective, but now he’s to a whole nother level since the pregnancy.

“Alright, I’ll bring home food too, I really shouldn’t be gone too long.”

“That’s perfect, babe! Maybe we can get - ow!”

He instantly turns around and pulls his hand from the door when I cry out in pain.

“Darling? Are you okay?”

“No, I’m fine.” I hold out my hand, “It was just this really sharp-ow!”

I cry out again, clutching my belly. Before I know it, a warm liquid is spreading down my legs.

“Love, your water just broke!” He cheers, his eyes saying nervous but he has a smile on his face. “I guess I’m not going to the studio.”

“Oh god!” I groan, I start waddling towards the door, “Okay, you grab the go-bag, I’m gonna start walking to the car.”

I know it might take me awhile to get there. I know it’s not true, but I feel like I need to keep my knees shut from keeping the little bean from falling out.

“Right, go bag.” He mutters to himself, slowly becoming more flustered, “Should we call an ambulance?”

“No.” I laugh, taking deep breaths.

“Love, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Just grab the bag so we can go to the hospital.”

“Yeah-”

“Harry!” I yell, “In the coming hours I am going to force a human being out of my vagina. Now I personally would like to do that at a hospital, will you go grab the bag, or do you need me to do it?”

He swallows and runs upstairs to grab the bag and I make my way to the car. It doesn’t take him long at all, now he’s finally had some sense smacked into him.

“We’re really doing this?” He asks, smiling as he pulls out of the driveway.

“We’re really doing this.” I grin, taking his hand in mine.

O N E   Y E A R  L A T E R

“Happy birthday to you dear, Anderson, happy birthday to you!” We all sing to the little one year old boy I hold tight to my chest.

“Let’s blow out the candles, baby.” I lean forward and blow out the singular candle for the one year old. We made a true event of it, calling everyone we knew practically to celebrate in our backyard, complete with so many games for other children, even though our son was still too young to play most of them. Harry and I couldn’t be more proud of our little boy.

Everyone cheers, I smile looking at Harry who’s got a similar grin. A year in the making to get to this day, lot’s of late nights, but more laughter than anything else. It’s been a wonderful afternoon, everyone loving the little boy who looks practically identical to his father. Cheering as he smashes his little cake all over his face, the table, and his clothes.

“Alright, let’s have Grandma get you all cleaned up!” Anne says as she steals Anderson from me. I smile watching her take the giggly little boy inside to get the cake he’s managed to smear everywhere cleaned off.

Most everyone has left at this point, it has been a packed house to celebrate the one year old, but as it gets later things slow down. It’s finally just down to immediate family and Harry and I can put our feet up for a few minutes.

“Can you believe it? A whole year we’ve been parents.” I lean back into Harry’s side. We’re sat on the outdoor couch, a spot that has grown to contain a lot of heart to hearts over the years.

“No, he’s getting too big too fast.” Harry presses a kiss to the top of my head, “He’s going to be needing another sibling soon.”

I let out a soft chuckle.

“Hmm, is that so?”

“Yeah, who wouldn’t want another kid like that?” We both look over our shoulders to peek in to see Gemma and Anne playing with blocks on the floor in the living room.

“Are you gonna push the next one out?” I tease, I get up and grab the only unopened present that’s remained on the table all day.

“It’s funny that you should say that.” I smirk, turning my attention back on the man I love. I hand him the box, neatly wrapped in polka-dot paper.

“What’s this?”

“Just open it.” I sit down again.

He tears the paper from the box and flips the lid open. His jaw dropping as soon as he sees the contents. Pulling out an olive green tee shirt for Anderson. Simply written across it is “Big Brother”

“You’re teasing me?” His eyes look hopeful though, like he’s praying I wouldn’t tease him like that.

“You can check the four tests in my drawer in the bathroom if you don’t believe me.” I smirk, “Or the fact that I have an appointment at the clinic this Monday.”

“Shut up.” His grin only getting wider.

“Baby Styles number two, coming soon.”

He tackles me down to the couch, a big warm hug.

“Oh my god.” He sighs into my neck. “I can’t wait to do this all again.”

“Me neither.” I grin, rubbing my hands up and down his back. He finally pulls back to get a good look at me, holding my face in his hands.

“God, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

kinda cheese, but a fun way to end it! this was cute lol

#harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #Harry Styles

[gandrewheadcannons]

I wanted to share some writing I had done earlier this summer with you all! If you like it let me know if I should continue? It’s meant to be a story focusing around the beginning of their time in Washington and into the podcast. I’ve left it at a really weird stop but that’s all I had so far.

Title: Undetermined

Pairing: Garrett Watts/Andrew Siwicki

Tags: Mention of prescription medicine, mention of Jeffree/Shane/Ryland, unfinished

Evening is dimly creeping through the half-opened windowpane casting a glow across the built-in table connected to the cramped inner wall of Andrew's microscopic kitchenette. His studio apartment in LA sat cramped in-between Hollywood and Calabasas, a mediocre waypoint for his work for the last few years. He clicks the viewfinder and focuses on the bright oranges and yellows that dance teasingly across the glittering tabletop; catching flicks of sliver and reflecting them back to the lens. A mug of dark roast with just an edge of too much cream is left forgotten in the corner of the frame. It feels cinematic and lonely all at once. The cafe style booth he sits in causes his back to ache, the rest of the kitchen a sterile and unforgiving white, but he misses capturing the day to day beauty the world had to offer. He imagines the reel being played back with a layered sound of twinkling windchimes, quiet laughter and a piano reverb with cuts of the morning sunrise on a hike and steam off the top of a ceramic mug. A familiar face with flecks of blonde in the beard, strong jawed and a roguish smile weaving in and out of the frame, turning back to laugh at something the cameraman said.

“-with a mandate like this.” Garrett is brushing his teeth through Facetime. Andrew catches the corner of his bamboo toothbrush flashing in and out of the lens. He must have laid his Iphone flat on the countertop because when Andrew really looks he can see the bottom of the mirror and a bunch of bright light.

“I know. It sucks. Couldn’t get honey the other day, man. Fucking honey. It’s not like the bees are going anywhere.” He laughs but it doesn’t feel funny. The minimal supply he had was dwindling thin. He was beginning to ration his meals and he wasn’t sure how much toilet paper was left under the bathroom sink. It was all very apocalyptic without any of the zombies or scientists swooping in with immediate remedies.

“Ah dude.” Garrett spits and there’s a tapping sound like he’s hitting his toothbrush on the edge of the porcelain sink before he fully pops into frame. He looks relaxed, sandy hair flopped to one side and beard properly scruffy though they’d only been locked down about a week and a half now. “I know. I can’t handle it anymore. I miss people.” Andrew hums at that. He doesn’t really. He misses the occasional gathering, sure, but he hadn’t quite placed his anxiety surrounding the idea of seeing others since they’d released the Jeffree series. "What was it that bothered you most about taking part in this?" His therapist had asked him. "I missed the fun," he’d answered. "What was the fun?" She’d pressed deeper. "Garrett," Andrew had been quick to reply. "And like. Everyone else too." He'd added when she hadn't said anything. "I miss it not feeling work." She had let him talk about that instead.

"Some people." He tacks on to Garrett who hums easily. He doesn’t think he misses many of the people he’d spent most of 2019 with, his life a mixed cocktail of Ambien, Adderall and Lexapro without any feelings of relaxation manifesting. His psychiatrist had discouraged upping his doses anymore and by early January she began urging him to begin seeking new opportunities to “work on his environment”. He hadn’t quite figured out the avenue to take to do just that.

"Well, some people." Garrett agrees and he's already back out on his couch. "I don't know how many more times I can watch Winter Soldier before I freak out." Garrett sighs. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Same as you and every other person." He turns his camera off. He needs the break from the screen.

"I miss you." Garrett is easy like that. He isn't ashamed to tell people how he feels in every moment. It was something to be admired and yet Andrew just felt envy at it. When Garrett had begun to slip away from him, melting like honeydew sweet and sour into a depth of a place where Andrew couldn't quite find him, he'd only managed to grab him back out by Garrett's honesty. Doesn't know if they'd be having this conversation if Garrett hadn't used that honesty like an anchor and letting Andrew catch him last minute with it.

"I can come over." Andrew offers. He hates being confined in these walls anyways. It was hollow and dark. The email from Shane still sat open on his Mac across the room on his bed. Thinking of extending the break, can't really decide. Want to get quarantined together? I have a few video ideas we could maybe mess around with or just film some day to day footage until creativity strikes us it reads. His skin itches for the company but the image of their guest room makes him uneasy. Doesn't know if he could withstand being there with very little to fill his hands with, editing complete and no real ideas on the table for the time being.

"I can come to you." Garrett offers like he was inconveniencing Andrew who had offered anyways.

"If you touch your car right now I am going to freak out Garrett Watts." Andrew admonishes. "The second they open up the garages and mechanics again I'm making you take that thing there, burn it and we get a new one." He's opening a duffle now and throwing in his travel toiletries and a few pairs of underwear.

"Oh come on Andrew it's not so bad." Garrett laughs as if Andrew wasn't still reeling from the aftermath phone call of Garrett nearly wrecking on the 101 barreling top speeds until he reached a secluded patch of grass to slow his Pirus down onto. By the time Andrew heard the story Garrett was okay; Michael had gone to pick him up and Garrett was sending pictures of little Star Wars figurines that Michael kept mounted on his dashboard. His heart didn’t calm until he had managed to get his hands on Garrett in person though, sneaking out for an afternoon to grab some coffee with Garrett before heading back to Shane’s to finish editing. His shins still feel heavy with the weight of Garrett’s calf as he’d pressed their knees together until the table while they’d talked – the weight reminding him of how alive and okay Garrett really was.

"Oh yeah a car that dies out randomly is really great." Andrew throws in a box of protein bars and a Gatorade into his bag. He hesitates before grabbing a stitched bear made from gray yarn, green buttons for eyes luring him in. "I'll be over soon." He doesn't know how well the conversation will hold up over Facetime as he's moving.

"Okay cool Andrew." Garrett's eyes are soft. "See you soon. My dad is actually calling."

"Tell him I said hi. See you soon." He so easily could tack on endearment, babe at the tip of his tongue burning hot. Garrett's ending the call before Andrew even has the chance.

**

The half opened can of frosting is across from, the only lights on are the ones twinkling from some intricate set up Garrett had on a shelf. Garrett’s on the third loop of the home screen on Prime, humming thoughtfully whenever he pauses on a summary to read but then continuing to scroll before picking one. He’s slumped down low, long legs kicked out on the coffee table while Andrew is curled up in a ball against his side. Once, Caleb had pointed out that if people didn’t know them they’d get the impression that they were dating. Garrett and Andrew had awkwardly laughed at that comment, tinged with humiliation at how their relationship was being interpreted. They tried to be better then, not letting themselves fall so in sync when other people were around.

Andrew loved it like this though, when it was just him and Garrett, so he could press his cheek into Garrett’s bicep and not have to question why it felt so right. In his left hand his phone illuminated with another message from Shane. Opening it he read a message about how much they all missed him and wanted him there during this time. Apparently Ryland was looking for someone to help film a video he had planned. He quickly shut the screen off and pulled back from Garrett some, his stomach in a sudden tangle of knots.

“Good?” Garrett asked him looking down. His crew neck was for Spokane and looked a little like the Taco Bell logo from when they were younger. He’d paired it with a pair of sweat shorts for the night as they were both supposed to be going to bed soon. Andrew picked at his own Adidas track pants, imagining a loose thread to busy his hands.

“You ever just. Feel like you gotta get out?” He tilts his head to the side and watches Garrett pause what he’s doing with his Playstation controller and set it carefully on his coffee table.

“In what way?” He asks thoughtfully, turning so his chest was open to Andrew. Their knees bumped and Andrew felt like a little boy when he wished he could crawl and hide in the empty space of Garrett’s lap.

“Like okay. Say you just really loved what you used to do. You basically achieved your dream job. You have all these amazing people, you like your boss, things are going really great and you’re making a lot of money.”

“You buy yourself a really good vacuum.” Garrett plays along teasingly causing them both to laugh.

“You get yourself those stackable containers for your meal prepped lunches.” Andrew plays back. “But then…” He runs his tongue inside his teeth then outside methodically. He searches his brain to try to figure out what to say to Garrett to

“Then?” He drums his fingers on Andrew’s knees to get him back to the present.

#gandrew #gw #as #my writing

[yeojaa]

ANGELS & AIRWAVES (w. jjk)

He's never met you but you know how he sounds when he wakes up from a nap and his greatest fears.  You know the way he sings after a shower and that he could be mistaken for a dying seal when he's laughing too hard.  The best part?  You don't judge him for any of it - including the fact he's a filthy Widow main.  He might just love you.

alt summary.  Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met.

pairing.  jeon jungkook

genre + rating.  fluffy crack.  general, for now.

warning / tags.  long-distance relationship, crushes, canon compliant (ish),  eventual happy ending, gaming, gamer!jungkook, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, overwatch.  tags are hard.  :( 

reading.   n/a.  a three part one-shot.

word count.  ~2750

part ii.

JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Sunday, 15 March, 2020.  2:01 AM.   

He falls for you in between the tireless teasing, the laughter that sinks into his ears and replays like a highlight reel.  It happens when he leasts expects it, when he's got his face pressed into the velvet of Yeontan's fur and you're cooing over voice chat, whispering sweet nothings to the manic panic pup.  It comes in the moments he's not expecting it to, when he's frustrated and unbearable and you're as sunny as always, spilling yellow paint across the doors he tries to keep shut.  

Bit by bit, day by day, he finds himself thinking of you more. 

First, it's wondering what you're doing while he's half-asleep and on his way to the studio.  Do you look as tired as you sound?  What colour is your hair and how does it stick up when you've just rolled out of bed?  When you yawn, do you stretch like a cat?  He thinks you do, if the sounds you make are any indication.

Then it's asking himself whether you might like the same things he does, from horror movies to carnival rides.  Would you hold his hand as you made the drop, stomachs leaping into your throats?  Would you scream?  Would it sound anything like that terrified pterodactyl noise you make when you're spawn camped by a Roadhog?  He doesn't consider the fact that he doesn't even know if you're in the same city and you'll likely never meet - bound to the servers of Overwatch only.  

He thinks about all the things he'd like to do with you.  Video game nights filled with butter-tipped fingers and spilled popcorn.  Walks with your family dog - Natto - you'd told him about, all fluffy white fur and dark teddy bear eyes.  Sunrises on the rooftop of his building, because you had the worst insomnia he'd ever seen and what better way to spend your endless waking hours than with him.  

Jeon Jungkook knows he'll probably never get any of these things, but he lets himself daydream anyway. 

Like now, for instance, as the two of you sit in another queue at 2 AM.  You just woke up and you've got that tell-tale rattle in your lungs, words sluggish and lacking any real intent.  He imagines you look the way you sound - tired and a little out of it, with barely opened eyes and sleep-loosened limbs.  

"How'd you sleep?"  He asks softly, crossing his legs beneath him and raising his arms high above his head in the same instance.  The bones of his body realign, ridges of his spine clicking into place when he knots his fingers together and pulls taut.  

"You know - the usual,"  you muse, apathetic.  It's always the same.  

He doesn't question it any further.  He had once or twice, when you'd first started talking and he'd noticed the way you were always up at inhuman times.  One grumbling response had told him enough - your schedule was what it was and no amount of remedying could fix it.  

There's a beat of silence before he hears rustling and then the loud, inescapable sound of an electric toothbrush.  You don't bother to mute your microphone, not that he minds.  He simply sits quietly, scrolling through his phone as you go about your "morning" routine.  

"How was your day?"  You're settled back at your computer, he thinks.  The acoustics sound far less like that of a bathroom.  

"I had the day off, actually."  He'd used it to edit some footage and record a cover.  He hasn't posted it to Twitter yet - there were certain times he was supposed to, to maximize visibility - but he's excited for when he does.  It's a song that's been stuck in his head for weeks, all thanks to you.

"Woah - you didn't work today?"  There's genuine surprise in your question, rounded syllables that pop off your tongue in an explosion of shock.

“Right?”  He laughs a little, short and sweet.

Despite his carefully crafted facade, there were certain plot points that just stuck, intrinsically weaved into his day-to-day whether he liked it or not.

His jam packed schedule, for instance. 

To you, it’s the result of stretching himself too thin between teaching at his friend’s dance studio (where he also apparently moonlights as a personal trainer) and working as a videographer for his media-involved friends.  Not that you know any of them.  No, no.  All the work he does is for the little guys - none of those big companies like BigHit or JYP.  Jungkook’s just your average Joe behind the camera.

“What did you do all day then?”  You’re still in awe, little flecks of wonder threaded throughout like glittering gold yarn.  

“Hung out.  Did some editing.  I’m kind of behind.”  That was an understatement.  He’s working on footage from six months ago, trying to get it out before they head on tour and he won’t have the kind of time he has now.  

“Probably spending too much time gaming.”  

“Yeah, probably.”  Not that he minds, or that he’d change it.  He savours the time you spend together, even if it has kind of messed up his sleep schedule.  

“Sorry not sorry,”  you quip, seemingly reading his mind.  

“You should be,”  he retorts with laughter that builds in his stomach and echoes out of his chest.  “I don’t think I’ve had a good night's sleep in weeks.”

If you hadn’t had this conversation a handful of times before, he thinks you might be offended.  Instead, he can practically hear you roll your eyes - imagines your optic nerve nearly severs with the intensity of it - and grins.

“Don’t kid yourself - you know I’m the best thing about your nights!”

You’re not wrong.  “You’ve been lied to.”

“I’m suing!”

“I’ll have my lawyer contact your lawyer.”

“Wait, what?” 

The two of you have done what you always do - talked yourself into a tizzy that has you both laughing, sound crackling across the airwaves.  It’s nonsensical and silly but it feels good.  Your bond shines with it, glitters prettily between you.

Thank god for Overwatch.

You return the conversation to a semblance of normalcy first.  “Did you listen to that song I sent?”

“Yeah.”  The briefest pause.  “It was terrible.  Hated it.”

“Oh, shut up!” 

“I’m kidding.  It was really good.”  Jungkook doesn’t tell you that he’s had it on repeat for the past few days, saved to the private playlist that’s filled with the rest of your song recommendations.  

“I know!”  You’re preening as if he’d just complimented you, clearly pleased by the praise.  He supposes it’s a pretty good endorsement regardless. 

“Got any more for me?” 

“I should just make you a playlist.”

He ignores the way his heart skips a very real beat, mimics the erratic rhythm of his fingers on his keyboard.  Because he’d absolutely love that.

“You should.”

“Really?”  You sound uncertain but maybe - just maybe - a little hopeful.  He might also just be imagining things, as he so often does with you. 

“Yeah.  Why not?”  It comes nonchalantly despite the rushing in his ears, the wave that threatens to drown him.  He can feel emotion in his chest - winged and distracting.  A kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering away. 

You’re quiet for another second.  It feels like an eon.  “Okay, yeah.  I’ll start one and we can just add to it together.”

BIG HIT ENTERTAINMENT’S GYM Thursday, 26 March, 2020.  6:30 PM.   

“You sound like a meathead,”  you say, off-hand and disinterested.  

He loathes the grunt that squeaks past his teeth as he gently returns the dumbbells to the floor. Cue a generous chug of water and a near death experience when the liquid goes down the wrong pipe. 

Loud coughing crackles through his airpods before he’s addressing you.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re grunting like a caveman.”

If your first comment hadn’t offended him, this one does.  Jungkook scoffs, tonguing the interior of his cheek as his brow furrows.  Weights are returned to his hands, rotated above each shoulder as he resumes another set of presses. 

“Do you even workout anything other than your fingers?”  He’s making a conscious effort not to make a sound, breath exhaled sharply through his nose.  It’s harder than he cares to admit but he’s also not about to give you an excuse to tease him further.  You already had way too much material.

“Don’t shame me!”  You really don’t sound that indignant.

“So, I’m right?  You’re a big couch potato who’s just jealous of my hot body?”

Now you’re incredulous.  It’s one of his favourite sounds because it comes draped in laughter, dancing around his head in the form of cartoon hearts. 

“Did you just say ‘hot body’, Jay?”

“Maybe I did.  What of it?”  He sniffs - he’s picked it up from you over the months - and your amusement doubles, giggles crashing into each other in their haste.  

“You are so, so weird.”  There’s a tenderness in your voice that he’d like to live in.  It wraps him up like a hug, tugging at his feeble little heartstrings. 

“Weird and hot.”

“You can’t just say that!”

“Why not?”  If anything, you’re the one person he can say it to.  With you, it’s the funniest joke he’s ever made.  It’s playful and silly, with no rhyme or reason.  He doesn’t have to worry about it being misconstrued or held against him. 

“You just can’t!  Only other people can say it.”  You sigh dramatically, from your chest.  “Do I have to teach you everything?”

“Everything but being healthy, probably.” 

“Har har har.”  

He can tell by how the words roll off your tongue, muffled and lacking clarity, that you’re eating.  He wonders if you’ve made pancakes - you’d been complaining about craving them just two days ago.  There are no tell-tale crunching or slurping, so he knows it isn’t your usual double whammy combo of ramyeon and Choco Boys.  

“I’ll have you know I used to run.”  Something about the way you say it makes him believe you, even though he wants to mock you a little more.  

“In gym class doesn’t count.”

“I used to run with Natto, you ass!”  Okay - so that actually sounded legitimate.

“Why don’t you still then?”

“There was an incident once.”  You’re sipping on something - likely coffee with oat milk and two pumps of hazelnut syrup.  It doesn’t matter that it’s dinner time and most people would be winding down for the evening.  “Because of my insomnia, I’d run at odd hours.  One day, some weirdo stopped me while I was running along the river.  He didn’t hurt me or anything—”  A part of him thinks you’re downplaying it but he says nothing, only waiting for you to continue.  “—but he followed me home.  I made the mistake of telling my parents and they freaked out so…” 

“So no more running by yourself.” 

“Yeah, exactly.”

“I’d run with you.”  It doesn’t mean much, but it’s the thought that counts.  

“Thanks, Jay.”  

Not for the first time, he wishes he could hear his name - his real name.  Just once.

“JUNGKOOOOOOOOOOK.”  It eats up every ounce of space of the gym, filling the room with the resounding boom of it.  How it manages to be so loud, he’s not sure.  He wishes it weren’t.  There’s no way you haven’t heard it.  

Especially not when it comes again, deafening even to his occupied ears. 

“JUNGKOOOOK-AH!”  Namjoon now, right as the double doors fly open.

Jimin’s barreling toward the alarmed maknae as he shouts.  “WE’RE DOING A VLIVE!”

Jungkook feels like his insides are melting  - his internal temperature spiking with embarrassment and worry and something that chants oh no! over and over in his head.  The tops of his ears are burning, as is the column of his throat.  A quick glance in the mirror confirms his suspicion that he is, indeed, bright tomato red.

“Jay?”  You repeat once, twice, when he doesn’t immediately answer.  “Everything okay?”

He moves with a speed he doesn’t expect, weights unceremoniously dropped on either side of him before he’s tearing his AirPods out.  “I’ve got to go. Sorry!”

He doesn’t end the Discord call a moment too soon, Jimin upon him in the next instant.  The smaller dancer is draping himself across Jungkook’s shoulders, the widest shit-eating grin on his pretty face.

“Want to join us for a VLive?”  

“No.  I’m busy.”  

“Busy with your girlfriend?”  Jimin’s wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.  He only stops when Jungkook shifts aggressively, tearing himself out from underneath the other.  

“Not my girlfriend!”  

“But you wish she was!”  

He can’t deny that, so he doesn’t bother, instead seizing his discarded weights with an embarrassed scowl permanently etched into the planes of his face.  He’s reracking them - because god, he’s not an animal - when he notices Jimin making his departure, that teasing smile replaced with something soft and edging on concern.

“What’re you going to do when we’re on tour?”

Jungkook blanches then.  You’d become such an undeniable part of his everyday life that he hadn’t even considered what it’d mean when he was busier than now, unable to spend late nights gaming with you. 

But Jimn’s already gone, leaving him and his thoughts alone.

JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Friday, 27 March, 2020.  12:05 AM. 

It’s close to midnight by the team he logs on.  Realistically, he should go to sleep.  He’s clean and worn out and his bed is calling to him like a siren at sea.  But you’re sitting alone in the channel, streaming Overwatch for no one to see, and he can’t just leave it at that.

He needs to say goodnight, like he always does. 

“Coming for my title as Headshot God?”   The quip’s off his tongue before you have a chance to acknowledge him, your laughter the first thing he hears once he’s connected.

“I’ve been waiting in this queue for seven minutes.  Seven!”  

It’s really not that bad.  The rare times you’d both queue for DPS were nearly double that.  

“Patience is key,”  he teases, slumping into his chair as he watches you click through your Hero Gallery.  You’re cruising seemingly aimlessly, roving through the different skins for your mains (Mercy, Ana, Genji, Ashe).  The silence between you is comfortable, interspersed only by the occasional munching he can only assume comes from the carrots you seem to inhale.

For all the junk you ate, you were somehow also weirdly into vegetables.  

“Patience sucks,”  you retort, matter-of-fact. 

“You know what else sucks?”  

It’s a rhetorical question and he knows you know, but because you’re you, you start listing things off just to get under his skin.  “Spiders?  Undercooked samgyupsal?  Not having coffee?  Your jokes?”

If he weren’t laughing so hard, he might’ve given you shit for making fun of his comedic genius.  He really doesn’t understand how you think he’s the unfunny one when all you do is crack puns.  

“I was actually going to say me,”  he finally manages in between those high pitched cackles of his.  

“Wait, why?”  You’re used to him having witty comebacks.

Edge of enamel worries his bottom lip and Jungkook can taste cherry Chapstick and what would be bashfulness, if it had a flavour.  “For earlier.”

You scoff, your own tinkling laughter tearing him out from inside his own head.

“It’s okay, goofball.”

He appreciates how laidback you are, never holding anything against him.  Not even when he hangs up on you or accidentally spams you with memes when you’re trying (and failing) to sleep.  “No.  I’m sorry.”  He says it earnestly, with all the meaning he can muster.  

MATCH FOUND flickers across his and your screen and you’re loading into hero selection.  He knows you’ll be too distracted once the game starts, so he’s grateful when you laugh again, sweet as summer.  

“Nothing to be sorry about.  Just tell me everything’s okay and we’re even.”  

Inhale, exhale.  Try not to tell her you have the biggest, stupidest crush on her,  he tells himself. 

“Everything’s okay.”  And he means it when he says it, though they aren’t the words he wishes he could say.  

“Good.”  

You’ve chosen Genji,  He smiles to himself when you join voice chat and the rest follow, greetings filtering in from your team members.  

“Good luck.”  You don’t need it.  He still likes to say it.

“You have an early day tomorrow, right?”  Leave it to you to remember his schedule even when he doesn’t.  

“Yeah, pretty early.”  

“Then go to bed!  I’ll still be awake when you’re up.”  

He lingers on that fact - holds it tightly in his hands so it can’t slip away.  You’d be there in the morning, just like you always were.  Knowing that stirs those same butterflies in his chest, words stolen by the overzealous beating of their wings.

You read his silence like they’re your own thoughts,  “I’m always here for you, Jay.”  

“Goodnight.”

"Sleep sweet."

notes.  this chapter is set four-ish months following the first, in case that’s not clear.  :) 

tag list.  @teawithbucky​ 

#heartsforbts #ficswithluv #goldenclosetnet #magicshopnet #bts #bts au #bts scenarios #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fic #bts fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook smut #work.zip #angels.doc #jungkook.doc

[stillness-in-green]

Part 2 of the response to this ask:

Part 1 was about where I think Geten’s story is going, and if I think it’s likely that Dabi will kill him; it dealt mainly with how those characters are set up in canon. Part 2 is far more about the fandom, and the assumptions people make that lead them to theories like the one above--specifically, the assumption that the League was always planning on bailing on the PLF. Hit the jump below with me and I'll go over why I think the common arguments for that are misguided at best, and willfully misreading the text at worst.

WARNING: Contains some generalizations about parts of the fandom that I have mostly taken steps to avoid seeing on my dash, so some of my characterizations may be out of date. I’ve tried to desalinate this post as much as possible, but as an unapologetic fan of the MLA and of Spinner (who I do not bring up incidentally), this is a topic I feel particularly strongly about. Apologies, but I Have Seen Things.

DISCLAIMER: I like Geten better than Dabi. I don't think he's better developed; I don't think he's a better character--I just like him better. This is largely down to the fact that I find the MLA fascinating from a worldbuilding perspective and its members compelling personally, whereas I’m less interested in Dabi personally than I am the Todoroki Drama on the whole, and have been tired of Fanon Dabi for approximately 83 years. I’ll also be the first to admit that my take on Dabi is pretty mercenary--hardly the irredeemable psychopath the Hero Stans on Twitter see, but nothing close to Secretly Soft Big Brother Touya, either. If that’s not your bag, you may want to skip this one.

So, here's a bullet point list of the reasons I have personally seen on why the League was always planning to turn on the MLA:

Dabi and Toga mention "getting started early," and Shigaraki mentions a plan, suggesting that the League had a plan in place independent of the one they arranged as the PLF.

Shigaraki says he won't forgive the Liberation Army for messing with peoples' feelings, so he would never really mean it when he forges an alliance with them.

The MLA is quirk supremacist, like Endeavor, so Dabi would never work with them.

Dabi is just using Skeptic against Skeptic's will; it’s not a willing partnership.

Mr. Compress rejects the PLF moniker for Shigaraki, ergo Mr. Compress didn’t genuinely associate Shigaraki and the League with the PLF.

Toga hated Curious, so she wouldn't want to work with the MLA either.

Twice would never forgive them for what they did to Giran.

[Error: argument about Spinner's opinion on the PLF not found.]

So, let's go over those, shall we? Note that a lot of what I'm going to lay out below isn't conclusive. What I want to establish is simply that the canonical evidence isn't conclusive, certainly not as much so as the people who support this view espouse.

|| Dabi and Toga mention "getting started early," and Shigaraki mentions a plan, suggesting that the League had a plan in place independent of the one they arranged as the PLF.

In responses to my recent Overhaul post, I defended Viz’s official translation as an accurate rendering of the dialogue in question. In general, I feel like Caleb Cook is pretty reliable in his translations, if sometimes kind of stiff or dry in localization. However, there are times he makes assumptions about lines--as indeed a translator for a currently-running series will sometimes have to--and sometimes, those assumptions don’t pan out. This is one of those times.

Dabi's line, "Shall we get started early?" is based on an assumption Cook made about a line that doesn't have an actual subject. In the original dialogue--Hayame ni hajimaru ka--there is no “we,” not even in the form of some implicit collective in Dabi’s grammatical inflection, nor is there a question of "should." All Dabi’s doing is musing that the start (again, there’s no subject, and so no indication of the start of what, or the start as initiated by who) is happening early.

Toga's line communicates much the same, save that she does specify that the schedule/plan/arrangement is happening earlier than expected--which is totally true, since her line is in response to Dabi observing that Machia moving must mean Shigaraki's awake, and Shigaraki was supposed to be down for another month.

Shigaraki's line, like Dabi's, lacks a subject to describe what exactly is supposed to start as soon as Shigaraki wakes. He's saying something that would, in a more stilted way, be, "I wake up and then it's the start, right?"

None of these lines suggest that the characters are necessarily talking about any plan other than the one the PLF laid out. Yes, it looks somewhat damning that Shigaraki's first action (after getting himself a cape, anyway) is to have Machia bring him the League, but heck, maybe that was always the plan. Just because Shigaraki wants to rejoin his comrades doesn't mean the rest of the PLF didn't already have machinations that they were supposed to set into motion the moment Machia left. After all, the plan as Hawks understood it did involve simultaneous attacks on major cities--maybe the League was going to be spearheading one of those attacks. Further, Shigaraki knew something was wrong from the moment he regained consciousness, and we don’t know how that knowledge affected the call he made. Hell, maybe the original plan was for the League to be brought to meet him somewhere in a chartered limo; we don’t know.

It's telling that this idea that the League had a Secret Plan to screw over the MLA rarely seems to account for Mr. Compress and Spinner being confused over the suddenness of events. The response to questions about this seems to be that the "villain trio" knew about it, so the ignorance of the rest of the League can just be handwaved--the important members knew, and that's enough. This is ungenerous towards both Twice and Mr. Compress, but I have got particularly little time for Spinner, the narrator of MVA and guy who decided to devote his all to Shigaraki, being disrespected in this fashion. More on that later.

|| Shigaraki says he won't forgive the Liberation Army for messing with peoples' feelings, so he would never really mean it when he forges an alliance with them.

Shigaraki does say he won't forgive the MLA, but consider what he did to the MLA and its leader. He destroyed most of their stronghold, killed scores of them, is directly responsible for Re-Destro losing his legs, and saw that vaunted descendant of Destro about six inches shy of full forehead-on-the-ground dogeza. The League Shigaraki commands killed a great many more of them, including one of their inner circle. He commandeered the Liberation Army, its resources, and its grand cause. I think it’s safe to say he’s more than responded in kind!

I'm not saying Shigaraki feels for the MLA the same way he does about the League, far from it, but I do think he's practical enough after two hundred chapters of character development not to throw them away out of spite. In Chapter 246, he tells Ujiko explicitly, "When someone offers me something, I take it," and, "I'm done taking the heroes lightly. I'll use everything I've got to obliterate the dregs All Might left behind." From a purely practical standpoint, if he intends to throw everything he has at the heroes, he has no reason to throw the MLA under the bus, and 116,000 reasons to keep them around. I'm altogether sure that, so long as they stood to be useful to his plans, he would have kept them around.

|| The MLA is quirk supremacist, like Endeavor, so Dabi would never work with them. + || Dabi is just using Skeptic against Skeptic's will; it’s not a willing partnership.

I hadn’t seen the second point in the wild, but I suppose it must be how the “The League will betray the MLA” theorists are getting around Dabi and Skeptic’s clear collaboration and how that collaboration totally scuttles the first point, huh? Hilarious.

Anyway, setting aside the fact that Dabi showed up to the one planning session we were shown when even Geten didn’t, there’s evidence in the canon that Dabi was working with Skeptic since even before the raid. Consider that Dabi’s video was filmed at the villa (the wall paneling and the style of the couch both match) and ask yourself where the camera he used came from. Once the filming was complete, where was the video stored such that Skeptic could access it from his laptop? If Dabi’d had it on an SD card and Skeptic was seeing it for the first time, why didn’t Spinner, Compress and Toga watch it alongside him? Surely Skeptic would need to watch it through at least once to know when to splice in the footage of Jin’s death for maximum dramatic impact? On that note, by far the most telling piece of evidence is this: if Dabi wasn't already working with Skeptic, then why was he wearing one of Skeptic's body cameras during his confrontation with Hawks?

Further, Skeptic's protest when he’s pulled onto Machia isn't that he doesn’t want to be with the League; it’s that he doesn’t want to leave Re-Destro behind. Once he's resigned that it's going to happen, though, he's cocky about his talents and complimentary of Dabi's big reveal, even if he is exasperated about the League's antics. It's ambiguous, I admit, but given that Dabi's wearing his cameras, he had to have known Dabi had a reason for them--and given that he is both abrasive and mouthy, I can’t imagine he wouldn’t have demanded to know what that reason was.

Hell, Dabi even thanks Skeptic for his editing work, which is more direct positive approval than he's ever shown anyone in the League (give or take the high-five with Twice, which, genuine or not, he would have known he was doing on camera). That much-vaunted panel of Spinner telling Toga to come back to the League? Dabi's grinning, which in isolation you could read as a certain rueful affection, but with the full context of the chapter, it becomes apparent that Dabi is grinning at Skeptic's laptop, seconds after telling Skeptic to "hurry up." Skeptic is, at that moment, probably gearing up the video to project nationwide, and Dabi’s more focused on that than he is Toga’s crisis, even when Compress directly appeals to him for aid. He tells Compress he doesn’t care, the same way he told Hawks he doesn't give a damn about the League.

Let me be clear here: I'm inclined to take Dabi at his word. I think Dabi hangs around the League because, for all that he says one man's conviction can shake the world, he also knows his own limits, and the League offers safety in numbers and an avenue to pursue his revenge. Maybe he finds them acceptable enough company, maybe he even does like them a bit despite himself, but I think any affection he might have for them is entirely incidental to his views on their usefulness. In the same way, while he's willing to bail on the MLA when the heroes attack, I don't think it was his plan to do so, especially not given his apparent immediate regard for Skeptic, as seen in the deleted scene here. Sure, he dislikes Geten, but ultimately, Geten is a stupid kid too tied up in his care for Re-Destro--who's now worshipping the ground Shigaraki walks on--to really be getting in Dabi's way.

Maybe if the MLA really were as quirk supremacist as Geten makes them out to be, Dabi would be actively looking for a way to see ‘em burn, but as I’ve said countless times before, Geten is not a reliable narrator vis a vis the MLA's doctrine. Now, obviously I don't expect Dabi to give them an unearned benefit of the doubt,(1) not after what he heard Geten say, but if Dabi has been working with Skeptic, it doesn't take a genius to realize that while Anthropomorph is a perfectly good quirk, it is categorically not what primarily defines Skeptic’s "worth" in the MLA societal microcosm.

Nothing that Skeptic does reflects the way Geten talks about "elevating one's ability" or "sheer strength" in the way that HeroAca fandom tends to understand as referring to flashy and offensive quirks. And yet, Skeptic is a ranked advisor warranting an introductory panel with RD's inner circle and Geten is not. Perhaps, just perhaps, this might have led Dabi to reevaluating his initial assessment just slightly?

|| Mr. Compress rejects the PLF moniker for Shigaraki, ergo Mr. Compress didn’t genuinely associate Shigaraki and the League with the PLF.

So, this one's pretty wild, because, in the same chapter that had people crowing about Mr. Compress's dialogue, Mr. Compress's actions show the exact opposite of the conclusion this theory would demand. Specifically, if it was always the League's plan to ditch the MLA, Mr. Compress would have darted right past Skeptic, ignoring the man's cries for help. He doesn't--he picks Skeptic up on the way past and (at least in the volume corrections) deposits him safe with Dabi in Spinner's scarf. Of course, Skeptic still stands to be useful, but if one acknowledges that Skeptic's usefulness is reason enough not to abandon him, then what exactly is the argument for leaving 116,000 perfectly useful warm bodies behind?

But let's set aside Compress rescuing Skeptic and focus on the actual point, because that point in itself is still flawed. Mr. Compress's thoughts on the PLF in the specific talk bubble in question are somewhat ambiguous. It's another case of the Viz translation making a couple of assumptions that are just that--assumptions.

Compress's words in the Japanese are as follows:

Chōjō Kaihō Sensen.… Viran rengo no Shigaraki Tomura ga…

Viz then renders the line like so:

The Paranormal Liberation Front's… No, the League of Villain's Shigaraki…

Note that in the Japanese, the possessive no is only included once, to indicate Shigaraki's association with the League. Further, the original doesn't indicate any negation in Compress's thoughts. Yes, he could be rejecting the PLF association for Shigaraki, but he could as easily be narrowing his scope to Shigaraki as the figure he represents to the League, rather than the figure he represents to the PLF--not rejecting wholesale, but rather becoming more specific. Compress might also be thinking first of the PLF as a general organization, then narrowing down to Shigaraki specifically.

Rather than reading this line as an indication that Compress regards the PLF as temporary, I was heartened by the fact that Compress thought about the PLF at all! If the League really had been planning to discard them this entire time, then there's no reason for Compress to have ever taken the Front seriously enough to have thought about them in that moment of crisis. You can carry this back further, too. In Chapter 258, when Twice is asking Hawks for help, he says that Spinner and Compress have been in meetings for days. Coupled with Compress's first thought about the entity that will carry out Harima's desired reformation being the Liberation Front (or possibly "the Liberation Front's Shigaraki"), this indicates to me that Compress was taking it seriously, not just gorging himself on sushi on the MLA's dime.

Indeed, back in Ujiko's lab, when it was just Shigaraki talking about his backstory and his dreams of destruction, Compress looks the opposite of impressed; we know from his narration in 294 that he liked the League because they didn't place any importance on one another’s pasts. Yet, at some point, his view shifted to believing that fulfilling his ancestor's ambition, his bloodline’s duty, really might be back on the table. We as readers don't quite know when that shift happened, but given, again, his initial mental invocation of the PLF, I think we can assume that it's tied to that alliance, those resources. And sure, when the moment of crisis happens and he's really defining who and what Shigaraki is to him, and where his values and priorities lie, it's with the League and Shigaraki as the leader of the League. But that doesn't mean he never had his hopes for the PLF at all, or was partaking in plans to ditch them.

Also too, this is a man who was lamenting the loss of their partnership with Overhaul, a man who personally maimed him, on top of killing a comrade. You're telling me the guy who shrugged off his animosity towards Overhaul would willingly allow the League to plot sabotage against even wealthier collaborators against whom he has even less reason to hold a grudge? Come on, guys.

|| Toga hated Curious, so she wouldn't want to work with the MLA either.

This one's easy: Toga pretty explicitly hated Curious, but she's even more explicit that she likes the MLA because she thinks the world they want to create is wonderful. She says this verbatim at the end of 225, after Curious has spent the entire chapter hounding her with explosions and intrusive questions. What turns her animosity on Curious is not some reveal that the MLA's world would be terrible after all, but Curious calling Toga's "normal" miserable and tragic. Essentially, she doesn't object to the world the MLA wants to bring about; she objects to being turned into a martyr for that world, especially when that martyrdom requires that the things that make Toga happy be characterized as horrific misfortunes.

Toga doesn't like Curious; she kills Curious. And then she comes into a position of leadership, and we don't know a lot about how that position takes her, but she seems delighted to be walking out onto the stage to be announced as such, and she makes active contributions to the discussion of the PLF's plans in Chapter 245. We are, again, given no indication that her lethal response to Curious means that she's planning to ditch the MLA on the whole.

Incidentally, Curious asserts what she does about Toga only in the context of the world as it stands. The world's rejection of Toga's normal, and the extremes that rejection drove Toga to, are what Curious considers tragic and miserable, not Toga's fascination with blood in and of itself. She clearly believes that, in the world the MLA envisions, Toga's life would not be so miserable because she would never have been oppressed to the degree that she snapped. And frankly, Curious isn't wrong. The only reason she is a villain in that scene is that she's willing to murder Toga to project that tragedy to the world. If she'd been willing to sit down and have a civil interview with Toga to print it in a relevant magazine, she would have been fine.

|| Twice would never forgive them for what they did to Giran.

You know, this is a totally fair point. It is, however, somewhat complicated by the fact that Giran himself never left the PLF. Now, there’s almost certainly something to be said about Giran’s whole information broker shtick being terminally compromised by his capture, his maiming, his client list being hacked, etc. He had a bunch of identifying items strewn all over the country that were covered in the national news, items that people who associated with him closely certainly would have recognized. Maybe he’s laying low for a while?

I don’t know why Giran was still around by the time of the raid. I can theorize about his pragmatism or what have you, but the canon really doesn’t give us anything to go on. Still, if he really hated the MLA all that much, as he would be totally justified in doing, it’s pretty bizarre that Horikoshi showed him twice in PLF crowd scenes post-Deika looking nothing worse than kind of confused and uneasy. Heck, you’d think he would at least have merited a better seat in the crowd for the big merger announcement.

Giran aside, the fact that Twice never does hit it off with anyone in his regiment is, I think, telling. If there’s anyone in the League that intentionally kept himself at a distance from the MLA because of hard feelings, it’s likely Twice. After all, if he had befriended anyone, he presumably wouldn’t have needed to go to Hawks for tutoring almost an entire month after Deika. That said, the fact that Twice does go running to Hawks for tutoring shows that he’s at least doing his best to act in accordance with what he thinks Shigaraki and the rest want. That doesn’t preclude the League having a secret plan that he’s either in on and playing along with, or hasn’t been told about because he might not be able to stop himself from vocalizing about it. Still, while absence of evidence is not evidence of absence, obviously absence of evidence is not evidence of presence. So, lacking any sign that the rest of the League is planning treachery, I’m not inclined to assume Twice’s lack of forgiveness is indicative of anything other than his own feelings.

|| [Error: argument about Spinner's opinion on the PLF not found.]

:: INCOMING SALT WARNING :: INCOMING SALT WARNING ::

This is the one that really gets to me. I have never seen an argument that the League is planning to betray the PLF that convincingly explains the fact that Spinner, to all available evidence, threw himself wholeheartedly into trying to make the PLF succeed. To be more precise, I have seen one explanation, and that explanation is that the plan to ditch the MLA was a secret that only Shigaraki, Dabi and sometimes Toga knew about, and to reiterate, that is bullshit.

In my experience, this is an explanation proposed by people who care about Spinner only insofar as he can be a Soft Gaymer Boyfriend or score them rhetorical points, but have little to no interest in his ongoing--and, indeed, increasing--importance to the League generally and Shigaraki’s arc specifically. The dude who talked about how Twice’s home was the League, who got through to Toga while still respecting her choice when no one else could, the guy who recognized the hollowness within Shigaraki but also bonded with him over video games, the man who Mr. Compress said was Shigaraki’s most devoted follower(2)--this man did not do all of that for people in this fandom to say, “Oh, well, the others probably just kept it a secret from him because they thought he’d be bad at lying.”

Really? “Bad at lying?” And that’s an adequate justification, is it, for Shigaraki letting Spinner toil for months under false pretenses? For lying to the man who adores him the most? Of course it isn’t, but the people who theorize this don’t really care about Spinner’s adoration for Shigaraki, or the fact that Shigaraki rewarding Spinner’s feelings by allowing him to dedicate himself unstintingly to something Shigaraki was planning to discard from the beginning would be a blatant abuse of Spinner’s trust.

I have never seen anyone try to argue that Spinner was in on a plan to betray the MLA all along. That’s because it’s patently obvious that Spinner--forthright, direct Spinner, who named the merged organization with Re-Destro, spends all his time in meetings, has a direct exchange with Re-Destro about the state of their plans, and is probably the reason RD started wearing polka dots--went all-in on the PLF. But for the people who propose the “the League was always going to bail” theory, Spinner and his labors are an afterthought.

Spinner is not an afterthought. Where Mr. Compress has been captured, Toga could hypothetically be peeled away from the League via Uraraka, and Dabi almost certainly will be peeled away via the Todoroki plot, Spinner’s driving motivation at this point is Shigaraki himself. He connected to Shigaraki’s nihilism, his hatred, but also his humanity--the humanity in Shigaraki Tomura, not in Shimura Tenko. His empathy didn’t spring from contrived psychic glimpses of crying 5-year-olds, but from long months of observation, doubt, and gradually deepening wonder. He’s the only person currently with Shigaraki that I can see caring enough about Shigaraki’s welfare that he might sacrifice his own goals and desires to help Deku save him.

Spinner is not an afterthought, and I refuse to build or entertain theories that treat him that way. So as to his opinions on the MLA? Despite having his own reasons to be leery of them based on how shabbily Trumpet treated him, he was obviously trying to make the Paranormal Liberation Front succeed, which means he must have believed that Shigaraki wanted it to succeed. Therefore, unless you’re prepared to assert that Shigaraki (and everyone else who was in on it!) was cruel enough to lie to Spinner about something he was devoting so much time and energy to, the inescapable conclusion is that Shigaraki also wanted the Front to succeed.

(Note: After letting a friend pre-read this, I have been informed that there is, in fact, one explanation offered for Spinner knowing the League was going to abandon the PLF but working his ass off on the venture anyway, and that explanation is, “Something something wants to prove himself because low self-esteem.” This is so ridiculous I can’t even bring myself to edit this post accordingly. Low self-esteem! Because nothing would alleviate Spinner's low self-esteem like toiling for months over something that holds no worth to the people he actually cares about, right? Right?? Bah. Humbug!)

And but so, to wrap all that up: I fundamentally disagree that the League viewed the Paranormal Liberation Front as a temporary arrangement, at least to the extent that they were actively planning to betray their newfound--new won--allies. The fact that I don't think the League intended to discard the MLA out of hand does, thus, influence my opinion that, whatever Geten's fate will be, I'm pretty sure it's not going to be, "He gets murdered in a way that resembles nothing so much as a sick revenge fantasy dozens of chapters after the last point when such a death would have been remotely tonally appropriate."

Thanks for the ask, anon! Sorry about-- *waves at all of this*

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

(1) Not that Mr. “Burns Random Delinquents Alive For Not Measuring Up To His Standards For Villainy” has any moral standing to criticize others for how they determine the value of peoples’ lives, mind.

(2) Other translations for the verb in Mr. Compress’s Japanese line of, “You are the one who ____s Shigaraki the most,” include yearn for, long for, pine for, miss, love dearly, adore, idolize, and revere. “Most devoted follower” is accurate enough, but considerably less homo than some of the things we could have gotten there.

#bnha #stillness answers #paranormal liberation front #league of villains #stillness has salt #spinner defense squad

[keanureevesisbae]

So Henry, you want to start a YouTube channel? - Prologue

Summary: Twenty five year old YouTuber Sandy Choi has no idea that one of her five million subscribers is the one and only Henry Cavill. When he asks her to help him out with starting his own YouTube channel, she falls more and more in love with her. But she should’ve known that dating one of the most desirable bachelors, does come with a prize. 

Henry Cavill x Sandy Choi (ofc)

A/N: What does one do when finding a new obsession with a celebrity? In my case, you write a fanfic series about it... and create an entire YouTuber including a channel introduction. Oops. If you want to be on the taglist for this one (I figure the people on my taglist for Keanu Reeves stories don’t want to be included on this one - if i figured wrong, let me know), please tell me and I’ll add you on it. 

Wordcount: 1.3k

Masterlist // Channel introduction // Chapter 1 

It has been about three months since Henry Cavill stumbled upon Sandy Choi’s YouTube channel and he is thanking the YouTube algorithms every single day for recommending it to him. He was surprised that he never heard about her before, since her channel is pretty big and well known, but maybe he is too old to keep up to date with YouTubers nowadays.

He binge watched her videos, watching clips from her from three years ago when she started her channel. Seeing her grow from a twenty two year old college student, to a successful YouTuber and young adult author, impresses Henry. He felt like he didn’t have his life together at that age at all and she seems so at ease. She has achieved great thing so far and watching her vlogs, helps him take his mind off his own life and the stress that sometimes comes with it.

He has a YouTube account, but only uses it to be subscribed to her channel and liking her videos. He doesn’t want to miss any of her updates on her channel. Henry is plopped on his couch, cuddling with Kal when he gets a notification.

Sandy Choi has uploaded a new video. Without thinking twice he opens the YouTube app on his iPad. He shouldn’t be this obsessed with a twenty five year old YouTuber, but it’s something about her aesthetic, about her calm way of talking and how she takes the viewers with her. It’s like being there with her and God, does he want to spend some time with her, even if she is just editing a new video, her book or is taking them with her during photoshoots.

The video loads and he gives it a thumbs up before the video has even started. Kal places his head on Henry’s lap, sighing deeply, as if the big fur ball knows that his owner will not give him any attention for the next fifteen minutes.

The slow song fills his living room, as he watches her introduction. They’re all snippets of today’s vlog, since he has never seen the footage before. Seeing her smiling in the camera, makes his heart flutter.

He feels like a teenager again, with the way he has this permanent grin plastered on his face, every time she posts things and he watches the entire video.

‘It’s the first of July,’ Sandy says, as she is sitting in front of her mirror, trying to fix her hair. Her make-up is all set and done. It’s very minimal, like usual, but with a brighter pink lipstick. ‘And that means in three days it’s the Fourth of July and I won’t be spending it in LA.’

Henry looks at his phone, to see that this was filmed two days ago. With the lighting speed she edits, he often wonders if she has some sort of magic powers.

‘It’s pretty weird actually,’ Sandy continues, ‘not to spend time with family on the Fourth. I moved here about seven months ago and ever since I stepped a foot in London, my parents have been sending me some serious threats about how I should fly back to LA on the Fourth of July. My birthday, Thanksgiving, they don’t care about that, weirdly enough.’

Henry lives in London, but he has yet to bump into her. He recognizes the places she visits and when he visits them, he never sees her, though he keeps his eyes out, praying for her to be there. God, he wishes he would just bump into her, though he has no idea what to say to her. Hi there, I’m Henry Cavill and I’m obsessed with your videos? He’ll probably scare her away.

He watches the entire vlog intently, as Sandy is taking the viewers with her for a stroll in the park, a nice cafe that he now wants to visit and eventually she goes to the dance studio.

She is a great dancer and he sometimes wonders why she’s not doing anything with it. The way she moves her slender body and knows how to control it, is absolutely mesmerizing. She posted a few dance covers on her channel, but she’s always alone. Never dancing with someone. He wonders if she comes up with these dances herself, whether or not she is free styling.

The video is almost over, yet he doesn’t want it to be over. She could make vlogs that are twenty four hours long, and he would watch it in one sitting. She’s crouched down in front of the camera, still in the dance studio, while she pulls out her hair tie, letting her long dark brown locks fall over her shoulders. ‘So,’ she says with a soft smile, ‘I’m sorry today was a pretty boring day. It’s just that I have been spending so much time editing my newest novel, that I just couldn’t read the last two chapters anymore, so I’ll be doing that tomorrow or later this week. I work ahead of schedule anyway, so I have some leverage. I just wanted to get a nice and quiet day in, so I’m going home now and maybe rewatch something on Netflix. I’m not in the mood for something new, since I have to focus on understanding the story, you know, so I think the Witcher will do for now. Haven’t had my fair share of Henry Cavill today.’

Henry can’t seem to focus on the last part of the vlog, where she wishes everyone a good day and the outro starts. She is going to rewatch the Witcher? Meaning, she has already watched it? She hasn’t had her fair share of him today?

What does that even mean?

And the way she said his name, he is going to die if he would rewatch that part.

Someone calls him and he picks up without looking. ‘Yeah?’ he says when he answers the phone, still living a bit on cloud nine.

‘For the love of God, man, you’re getting more and more impersonal every time I call,’ he hears his friend Jackson say from the other end of the line. ‘Where the fuck are you, man? We were supposed to meet each other like five minutes ago.’

Henry jumps up from his couch. ‘Crap, I forgot.’

‘Figured.’

‘I’ll be there in a second.’ He storms to the hallway, to find his running shoes, but he has to walk upstairs for them.

‘You’re always on time. What happened today?’

‘I was watching something.’

Jackson starts to laugh from the other side of the line. ‘Let me guess: a certain someone uploaded her newest vlog? Does her name start with an S and end with andy Choi?’

‘Very funny.’ Jackson was never supposed to find out about this guilty pleasure of his, but somehow Jackson did find out, like he always does. Sometimes Henry hates his friend, since he can read him way too well and pesters him afterwards.

‘Well, hope it was worth it,’ Jackson says. Henry can hear the smile in his voice and that means that he is going to mention this during their entire run.

Henry rushes outside after he slipped on his running shoes. ‘It was totally worth it,’ he says. Knowing he’ll tell Jackson anyways, he adds: ‘She said my name, you know.’

‘Shut up.’

‘I’m not,’ Henry says with a smile.

‘She honest to God said your name?’

‘Yeah and she is rewatching the Witcher.’ Henry can’t seem to get the permanent grin off his face. He hears her say it over and over in his head, visualizing it with the lovely smile on her face.

‘You need to fucking grow some balls, follow her on Instagram and slide into her DM’s. Everyone does that nowadays.’

‘I’m not going to do that.’

‘No, what you are going to do is bother me with questions like: “Why is she so pretty?” and “When am I going to run into her?”. Like I can answer those. It’s obvious that she is simply rewatching the Witcher because of the way you look. Everyone on earth is into you, why wouldn’t she?’

Henry clears his throat, before he says: ‘See you in three minutes.’

Taglist: @flhorah​

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #so henry you want to start a youtube channel #henry cavill x Sandy choi #getting obsessed with henry cavill

[thecleverdame]

Control and Release - 31

Series Masterlist

TEDTalk!Sam x Reader

Summary: After the rest of the staff is caught in a snowstorm, you find yourself acting as a personal assistant to the notorious Sam Winchester. As the arrangement becomes more defined, you and Sam begin a sexual adventure with dangerous consequences.  

Warnings: Dom/Sub, humiliation, embarrassment, sexual objectification, mutual masturbation, spanking, cum play, fingering, anal play, orgasm control, nipple clamps, dub-con, breath play.

Beta: @ilikaicalie

Parts 1-39 are currently available on Patreon for a monthly pledge of $2.50. This includes early access to all my stories, including Patreon exclusive content.  >> CLICK HERE <<

-

“These are all my dirty secrets?” You look in trepidation at the folder on the table in front of you.

 It’s thicker than anticipated. 

“Everyone one of them.” Charlie is a perky, energetic redhead that’s the exact opposite of what you expected. Sam’s talked about her like she’s Sherlock Holmes, and to be honest you assumed she was a man. “Or least what I could dig up. I can confidently say that if I couldn’t find it, no one else will either.” 

Glancing at Sam you open the cover and scan over the top page. It’s a basic list of your personal details, where you’ve lived, who you’ve dated. 

“Is there anything we should be concerned about?” Sam asks. He slides his arm over the back of the couch behind you. 

Charlie hesitates, looking at Sam and then speaks to you. 

“Are you comfortable doing this with him here? I mean, it can get real weird real quick for both of you.” 

“I can leave if you want,”  Sam offers. 

“No.” You swallow the urge to take him up on the offer. “No secrets, right? This is my life.”

“Okay.” Charlie opens her laptop. “There was a polaroid of you in your underwear at a party in your senior year of high school. But we had it taken off Facebook and I was able to purchase the original.”

“It was on Facebook?” You’re both horrified and impressed. You had no idea “How did you even find it?”

“It’s what I do,” she chirps, already moving on. “You’re pretty boring compared to the people I usually investigate. No DUIs or cheating. But you did date a man named Jasper.”

“Oh Jesus.” You want to crawl under the table. Your time with Jasper wasn’t as much a traditional relationship as a hook-up that lasted a year. He never came close to what you and Sam enjoy together, it was all about sex. “I’m sorry.” You turn to Sam who’s throwing you a terrifying, forced smile. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he murmurs, a hand slipping over your thigh and wedging between your legs. 

“Did you make a sex tape with him?” Charlie asks and you choke on your own spit. 

“No, I mean, I don’t think we ever…”

“Is there a chance he recorded you without your knowledge?”

“Maybe.” You search your memory. Everything from that time is hazy, the two of you drank a lot. “I mean, I don’t know. You think he recorded me?”

“I think he has something.” Charlie’s attention switches to Sam and she morphs into all-business mode. “He was interested in why I was asking questions. When I made an initial offer for any videos or pictures he might have he acted like he had something. But I think he realized it was valuable and kicked me out of his apartment.”

“You offered the maximum?” Sam asks. 

“Yeah, he didn’t go for it.”

“Double it and see what he does.”

“Got it.” She stops to make a note.

“He has a sex tape with me in it?” You’re not past this yet. You look to Sam who’s unreadable. “I had no idea. I mean I eventually realized he was a creep but I never thought he would do something like that. What if he posts it?”

“Don’t worry,” he nods, sliding a hand over your knee. “I’ll handle it.”

“Other than Jasper, you and Sam are actually the biggest potential issue. I read Cole’s report. It’s concerning despite your prior relationship. If the wrong person got a copy of his written complaint it would be damaging. I think you can expect the real story to revolve around the fact that Sam intervened when a mad man was shooting up the office. You can choose how you want to spin that. If you decide you want some heroic meet-cute to be the official story then I can erase any trace of your relationship before the shooting happened. If you want me to leave some crumbs confirming you were together prior, I can do that to. And if you want a lid on the whole thing, no problem.”

“People will care?” you ask. 

“Oh, for sure.” She chuckles, looking at you like you’re a moron. “Sam’s personal life has been a lockbox. You’re the most interesting thing that’s ever happened to him.”

“Wonderful.” This would all be so much easier if he wasn’t so well off. If he hadn’t been quite as successful all these precautions could be avoided. 

“Just tell me what kind of story you want out there and I’ll start planting the seeds.” She grins at Sam with a warm familiarity. Few people interact with him this easily. There must be quite a back story. 

“We’ll talk about it,” Sam answers for you, shifting in his seat. “Anything else?”

“That’s all for her.”

“You have my background as well?”

“I do.” She pulls a thinner file from her bag and you look at him in surprise. 

“She did one on you too?”

“Charlie has been the keeper of my secrets for a decade. She makes sure any possible indiscretions stayed buried,” Sam explains. 

Charlie is looking between you and Sam, asking a silent question. 

“You can say whatever you need to in front of her.” Sam turns to you. “You can leave if you feel uncomfortable.” 

You find yourself suddenly nervous. Sam’s past is largely a mystery and you’re not sure if you want to know. Were there others before you? 

“The woman you had a financial arrangement with is not a problem. It’s Madison I’m concerned about.”

Financial arrangement? That piques your interest but the conversation moves on. 

“It’s been years. You don’t think she’s gotten past it?” Sam shifts beside you, betraying his discomfort for the entire situation. He’s rarely visibly distressed but there’s no covering this up. His reaction may be subtle but it’s there. 

“She still Googles you once a week.” Charlie turns her computer toward Sam. You don’t understand you’re looking at, but he seems to. Sam takes interest in something on the screen and you feel him stiffen beside you. “She’s living in Boston again?”

“She moved back last year,” Charlie confirms. 

“You didn’t tell me.” Sam’s tone shifts to his trademark disapproval but it doesn’t seem to phase the perky redhead.

“I update when I think there’s a concern. This wasn’t a red flag for me. She’s from Boston. Her father is sick. She got a good job at a tech firm. It looks to me like she came home to be near her family...or...”

“Or?” Sam asks. 

“Or she came back to be close to you. It’s hard to tell with her. Madison has always been a wild card. You know how to pick ‘em.” Her eyes dart to you, offering an apologetic grin. “Present company excluded.”  

You just sit there taking in these new tidbits of information. A trail of breadcrumbs that lead to the story that was Sam’s life before you. 

“Do you think she would try to hurt Sam?” you ask and two pairs of eyes look at each other before turning to you. “Or me?”

“She’s not that kind of crazy,” Charlie assures you. “But she would love to embarrass Sam. Make things hard for him. She’s still pissed he cut her off.” 

“I see.” You sit back as they continue talking details. You’ll have questions for him later but right now your mind is swirling. Your ex hook-up has a possible homemade sex tape of you doing God knows what, and Sam apparently hired a hooker.

“And what about Dean and my father?” Sam squeezes your knee, bringing you to attention. 

“What about them?” You lean forward with interest. 

“They’re hard to track.” Charlie closes her computer and sits back. There’s no documentation of this inquiry. Nothing to tie either of them to the wanted Winchesters. 

“That can’t surprise you.” Sam nods. “But you’re good.”

“Yes, I am.” She offers a little bow of her head. “I had to track the weird to find them.”

“What do you mean?” you ask. 

“They like the crazy stuff, ghosts, and monsters. So I kept an eye out for any weird happenings. Some lady in New Jersey claimed a sewer monster stole her baby. And you’ll never guess who popped up in town at some shitty motel the next day.”

Taking out her phone she pulls up a photo and holds it out for you and Sam to see. It’s a grainy security camera shot of Dean with a baseball cap pulled over his face. 

“When was this?” Sam inquires. 

“Six weeks ago. Your brother is staying along the eastern seaboard. Investigating paranormal bullshit in Vermont, Maine, Connecticut. Occasionally he’ll pop up in the midwest, but for the most part, he’s staying close.” 

“To me.” Sam’s not asking, he already knows. 

“Yeah, that would be my guess. I did a sweep of your office buildings, homes and so on. I found a digital hole in your home security cameras. Someone created a backdoor into the system so they could have unfettered access.”

“He’s watching us?” Dean’s been on your mind ever since the encounter in the kitchen over a year ago. But now it seems your concerns were in fact warranted. 

“Maybe,” she continues. “It’s hard to tell with him. He might be watching. Maybe he’s visiting, editing the footage to cover his tracks. Or maybe it’s not Dean at all.”

“Who else would it be?” you ask, afraid of the answer. “FBI?”

“My father,” Sam sighs. 

“It’s a possibility.” Charlie shrugs. “Unfortunately it’s impossible to tell what they’re up to.”

“What’s your gut instinct?” Sam asks Charlie. 

“I think they’re keeping an eye on you...and her.” She looks you dead on. “If you want to know why your guess is as good as mine. They believe some insane stuff, Sam. End of the world, apocalypse wack-a-doo shit. They could just be trying to keep you safe. But there’s always the possibility of something else. Y/N was right to be concerned.”

“Perfect,” Sam laughs dryly, rolling his eyes. “This is the last thing I need right now.”

“I liaised with your new security guy.  He knows what’s going on with your family, Madison, the whole shebang. He’s working on Y/N’s apartment and your house to seal the leaks. I’ll schedule a meeting for the three of us when you get back to Boston.”

“Sounds good.” Sam stands as Charlie collects her things and you stay seated. “Thank you for everything. As always, you’re invaluable.” 

“That’s why you pay me the big bucks.” She laughs. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“You too.” You wave her off, watching as Sam locks the door after her departure. He shoves a hand in his pocket, the two of you staring at each other in silence. 

“What are you thinking?” he asks.

“Oh, more than you wanna know.” Running a hand down your face you categorize the evening. Sex scandals, stalkers, fugitives from justice...where to start. “You paid for sex?”

“Technically, no.” Sam walks over to sit on the couch across the coffee table. 

“What does that mean?”

“It means I never fucked her.”

“Okay, but you hired a hooker?”

“Yes.”

“And didn’t have sex with her?”

“No.” His jaws ticks. He doesn’t want to answer these questions. “She sucked my dick. She allowed me to do things to her, but I never fucked her. Would you like the details?”

“Jesus,” you sigh. “No. God...fuck. And the other woman, Madison, she was your girlfriend?” 

“No. She and I had an arrangement. The same as you and I had when this started. She worked for W & S. It only lasted a few months. She became attached, somewhat obsessive. She believed we were more than our arrangement and I put an end to it.” He stares at you, still as a statue. 

“Okay.” You hate the very idea of him with someone else. The thought of another woman makes you angry, but he’s being honest, and honesty is everything so you swallow the urge to take it out on him. “What are we going to do about your family?”

“I’ll give you the details as soon as I have them,” he offers. “We’ll have increased security.”

“Good.” Racking your brain you try to make sure you’ve covered everything. “Oh! Jasper, are you sure Charlie will be able to get that video...if there is one, I mean.” 

“She has her ways and I have money. Everyone has a price. We just need to find his.”

You’re both quiet again. Things feel unsettled, awkward for the first time in a long time. And you only know one way to reset this feeling. There are times when having Sam in complete control makes you feel the safest. 

“Sam,” you start, watching him sigh in response. He’s expecting more questions. 

“Yes?” he asks, looking at you expectantly. 

“I’d like you to spank me now.” This request makes your cheeks hot with anticipation. His face morphs from controlled irritation to pure lust, eyes narrow, a grin pulling at his mouth. “With your belt.”

“Take off your clothes and lay across my lap,” he instructs, already working at his buckle. “Get the gag. We can’t have you making too much noise.” 

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester smut #Sam Winchester

[kassies-take]

A Tutor!

A/n: Another Supercorp daughter story. I should really be doing my homework... I’ve thought about it and I’m doing this.

Warning: Insecurity 

Supercorp, Lena Luthor x Reader, Kara Danvers x Reader

Word Count: 2090

Lena Luthor-Danvers was someone you could rely on to go to when anything was wrong. Lena Luthor however was not going to be happy when she gets home from work.

You ran a hand through your hair and hid in your arms. On the paper was the bleeding ink of a D.

To be fair, you didn’t care about math. But being a daughter to a Luthor and a daughter to a Kryptonian, who learned calculus in the 3rd grade, it was supposed to be easy. You didn’t understand, you spent countless hours with your nose in the book, countless hours working and writing problems step by step, and countless hours in Mr. Pierce’s office hours. How could you get a D? A D- for that matter.

The other kids were working on their homework when you were called to Mr. Pierce’s desk.

“(Y/n), is everything alright? I know you’ve been going to office hours, and staying after class to finish your homework, but your test scores say otherwise.”

“I don’t know, I’m trying I really am. But no matter what I do, I don’t seem to get it. Math and many other things.” You mumbled the last part.

“Maybe it’s the way you’re trying to learn it. You could have your mo-“

“No!” You blurted out as all eyes focused on you.

“Regardless, you’re going to have to have one of your parents sign off on the test.”

“Yeah, it’s in the syllabus that I have to have a parent sign off on my tests till they become better. Gradually.”

“Until then I want you to change your method of studying. Maybe get a tutor.”

You winced at the idea. You had nothing against tutors, in fact you admire their patience but it was the principal of the matter. Luthors don’t need tutors, you just work harder.

The moment you got home you spent your time looking for the perfect tutor. The ones who weren’t just doing it for money, but actually wanting to help. You gave up trying to find someone to tutor you with the constant Luthor voice in your head.

You pulled out the test again to look through the mistakes. You had a terrible migraine and you flipped through the sheets angrily. You got to the last paper and pulled a post-it note off the paper to read it carefully:

I’ll be happy to tutor you - (Y/C/n)

This can not be happening. You turned the post-it note around and saw their number. You immediately pulled out your phone and contemplated on what to text them. Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard and the backspace key was pressed multiple times. It took an hour or so to send your message, they agreed to meet with you at your place every Wednesday afterschool.

Tutor, check. All you had to do now was tell your parents. Your leg shook nervously as you chewed on your fingernail, a habit you got from Lena. The balcony door clicked and beeped, Kara preferred the balcony entrance over the front door. You were relieved it was Ieiu and not your mom. Only that didn’t end well as chills were sent through your spine, at your mother’s voice and you hid part of your test under your laptop.

“Hey, little one!” Kara held you tightly in her arms.

“Hi Ieiu. Hi mom.” You hugged Lena as Kara went into the kitchen for a bottle of water and Lena’s wine.

“Oh, you’re looking to tutor someone?” Lena questioned before she pulled away and grabbed her wine glass from Kara’s hand. “That’ll look great on your college app, especially with MIT,” Lena took a sip from her glass. 

“Mom...” Kara caught your heartbeat speeding up.

“Little one are you okay?” 

Lena turned towards Kara when she began to speak and frowned back towards you. 

“Is everything alright?”

You couldn’t tell your parents. Luckily neither of your parents could read your mind, but at the same time you wished they could, it would be a lot easier than saying what you have to say. 

If I break, my family will shatter. Our family is measured by who I become. To my parents a good daughter is educated, remains “super.” It’s easier expected than done. It hurts the most when I’m doing my absolute best and it still isn’t enough. 

Lena and Kara both raised you to be a strong fighter. They didn’t explicitly send you to boarding school, or expected you to save the day. But all the implications are there, of being a Luthor and a Super.

 Striving to meet these expectations is like climbing out of quicksand: the harder I try to get to the top, the more I’m sucked back down.

Because Mom and Ieiu are constantly saving the day, they were preoccupied with raising the perfect daughter. They think they are keeping you safe. They never think about how lonely you were. They were oblivious of the nightmares you had from trying to fit in to the Super and Luthor box. 

You’re Kara’s girl. You’re just another Luthor. At least we know this one won’t be a psychopathic lunatic. You’re not a Luthor and you’re not a super. You can go to any college you want, MIT is a really good option. You could do so much better. 

“STOP!” You shook your head trying to get rid of the flooding thoughts that spilled through the dam of your eyelids.

No one dared to move, you didn’t need super hearing to hear a pin drop. 

“I’m the one who needs a tutor! I’m sorry I’m not a Luthor, or a Danvers, or Zor-El, or a super. I’m sorry I am nothing! I’m not going to NCU and I doubt I’ll get into MIT. okay? I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” 

“Baby,” Lena took a step forward. “We raised you to be a strong fighter, not to be a Luthor.” 

“You didn’t but everyone out there does! No matter what I do, I am evaluated on the fact that one I am a Luthor and two I am a Danvers! There’s a constant scale. I’m either one or the other! The world has expectations of who I should be and could care less of what I become, because to them my future is already written to them!” You stormed towards your room and slammed the door shut. 

Both Lena and Kara flinched with the door close shut. Lena let a shaky sigh before she hid her face in her hands and slouched on the couch. The couch dipped beside her and a strong arm wrapped around her. 

“She’s going to be okay. She’s strong,” Kara whispered and rested her chin on Lena’s head. 

“I failed her Kara.”

“No you didn’t.”

“The moment we knew I was carrying her, this was all I feared. Becoming my mother.”

“You are not your mother, (Y/n) was raised from a home with love and acceptance.” 

“How can you say that when she is clearly trying to fill up her cup with water from every single person except hers. She was so afraid of failing that she had to get a tutor. A tutor! What kind of mother lets her kids fail at something she excels at?” Tears began to flow from Lena’s eyes.

“A mother who lets her kid try to do it on her own. A mother so talented that she tries to be like you.”

“I spent all these years trying to make sure I was not Lillian, and here I am. What you resist will persist.”

“Look Lena, the things in our life are not always going to be the way we want it to be. The only thing we can do now is accept it and move on. Make it better. Our daughter needs a tutor, and that is not so much your fault as it is mine. We will get through this together.”

“El Mayarah” Lena whispered. 

They stayed like that in each others arms till Lena was rid of tears. 

“Lets go see our baby girl.” Kara suggested. 

Lena sat up and wiped her tears with her fingertips when her foot accidentally grazed over the mouse pad and the tabs closed. She moved to recover the tabs when her eye caught a folder labeled “edits” on the snow covered desktop background with Lena and you throwing snowballs at Kara. 

The folder opened with many short films, videos, and clips. Lena clicked on one titled “Aunt Lena and Aunt Kara MUST watch” hidden in a file of its own.

“Hey cuz,” It was a footage of you at your desk. “Are you still working on that edit?”

“It’s a new edit, with the same clips.”

“Why?”

“I can’t show it to anyone unless it is perfect.”

‘‘You know there is no right or wrong way you could edit something right?”

“It has to be perfect so no one could demean it.”

“You can’t please everyone.”

“No, but I can please my parents. 

The camera panned to Alex’s and Kelly’s son, Lucas.

“Aunt Kara, Aunt Lena if you’re watching this I think (Y/n) might need a little reassurance that she doesn’t need to try too hard for you. She told me that she was under a lot of pressure from everyone.” 

The video ended and Kara and Lena made a B-Line towards your room.  

“Little one?” Kara pushes the door open.

You laid on your stomach, under a pile of blankets and a pillow over your head.

Lena crouched beside your bed and removed the pillow over your head. You groaned and tried to move the blankets over your head.

“No. Look at me.”

You reluctantly turned around to face the emerald green and ocean eyes.

“Little one, just because you need a tutor does not mean we love you any less. In fact I’m happy that you’re getting one, it means you’re not willing to fail. That’s super enough. It might not feel like it and I understand that. You had a question about yourself and you deserved to try and answer it. You’re not a Luthor, you’re not a Super. You are (Y/n) Alura Luthor-Danvers. We love you for who you are and not who you will become.” Kara kisses your forehead.

“Baby, I never meant for the Luthor name to be any trouble for you. And I’m sorry you felt as if you couldn’t come to us about this, or about anything. A part of me, actually the whole part of me believes this wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t give you the Luthors name. But I don’t regret ever having you because you’re the best thing I ever made. I am so sorry you feel this way and you won’t ever be alone.”

“I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed with myself. I just try so hard, but I don’t get anywhere.” You sighed.

“You know life is about making mistakes, learning from them, and growing as a person. We’re going to love you no matter what. You’re going to be accepted here, because you’re safe and in an environment where you have a Super and a Luthor protecting you.” Kara smiled.

You smiled back before the two gave kisses to your forehead and cheek.

“Okay now move over,” Lena removed the first layer of blankets. “Oh,” she said before removing another. “How many blankets do you have?”

“It’s cold!”

Lena moved the last layer and snuggled towards you.

“Make room for me I want to cuddle too.”

“The bed is not big enough!” Your voice was muffled by the blankets.

“There’s always room to cuddle!” Kara opened her arms wide and prepared to jump.

“No no!”

“Kara, if you jump you’re staying on the couch!” Lena glared.

“What happened to you jump, I jump?” Kara pouted.

“I didn’t jump.”

“Get in puppy Ieiu,” you held up the layers of blankets as Kara’s eyes lit up before she crawled under the blankets.

After a while the silence was broken. “So (Y/C/n) is going to tutor you?” Lena smirked.

“Mom,” you groaned.

“What, I need to make sure they won’t distract you.”

“The only thing that is going to be distracting is you and Ieiu.”

“That wasn’t gonna happen, but thanks for the tip.” Lena smiled.

“If it’s like that, (Y/C/n) has to with stand three punches from me.” Kara beamed.

“What? I’m being tutored not going out on a date. Mom please tell Ieiu that that is ridiculous because she has super strength!”

#supercorp #supercorp daughter #supercorp x reader #kara danvers #lena luthor #lena luthor imagines #lena luthor imagine #lena luthor x reader #lena luthor x daughter!reader #kara danvers imagines #kara danvers imagine #kara danvers x reader #kara danvers x daughter!reader #supergirl imagine #supergirl imagines #supergirl x reader #supergirl

[probably-writing-x]

Live Capture.

Arón Piper x Reader

Request by anon: would you be able to do an Aron Piper imagine where his girlfriend is a YouTuber but she’s very shy to show him on her channel as a way of protection even though he’s used to the public & then they go out in public & a fan starts to record them...you can take it on from there :) hope you’re staying safe xx

Gif is not my own

Requests are open 🤍

“On your left, on your left!” You call through your microphone, “Yes, downed him, another team coming up behind us.”

Your friend speaks through your headset and updates you on his own progress as both of you were midway through a game on Warzone. You took a moment to glance at the chat on your livestream to YouTube and smiled at a few of the messages before turning back to focus on the game.

“Alright we’ve got enough for a loadout,” You comment, “Cover me.”

He follows your advice and does exactly that, only moments before you’re shot at from another direction and both of you are killed.

“Shit man,” You groan, “I really wasn’t on it that game.”

“Still top ten though,” Your friend points out, “Alright, Imma head off for the night. I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

You say your goodbyes and turn back to your chat, reading a few of the comments you’d missed, “I think I’m going to turn in for the night too, thank you guys so much for watching this livestream. And I’ll be uploading a video tomorrow at 6pm so keep your eyes peeled for that one. Good night guys!”

You turn off your stream and shut down everything on your PC, the true sign that you’d be turning in for the night. You grab the empty plate from where your dinner had been and the empty drinks from over the course of the hours that you’d been on stream.

“Hey honey, any luck?” Arón asks from the couch, where he lay with his arm tucked under his head, turned to watch the TV screen.

“We got a couple of wins,” You nod, “Nothing great. I didn’t know you’d still be up.”

“And go to bed without you? Would I ever?” He laughs, “C’mhere.”

You yawn and walk over until you’re close enough that he can reach out and pull you down to lay with him, letting you rest on top of his chest, “What are you watching?”

“One of your videos,” He chuckles, “There was nothing on TV and I didn’t want to watch any of that series without you, so I’m watching your channel.”

“Why?” You smile, looking at which video he’d chosen.

“This is from that day we went to the beach and you were teaching me how to surf. I dont know how you managed to keep me out of the whole video!” He exclaims, “Genuinely there’s not even a glimpse of me.”

“Because I spent about four hours rewatching it and re-editing it to make sure. I’m very secretive when I need to be,” You remind him, leaning up to kiss at his jaw, “They all still ask questions.”

He hums in response, “Do you want to go to bed darling?”

Your eyes are already fluttering shut as he asks the question and he somehow has to figure out how to get you from the couch to your bed without disturbing you too much. It was a regular occurrence after you streamed late at night, and he’d grown to be very good at taking care of you after you’d drained yourself after a long day.

You’d been dating for a little under a year now but it felt like you’d loved him for a lifetime. He’d quickly become everything you could ask for in a boyfriend and the two of you somehow became the perfect match for each other. With him as an actor, and you as a YouTuber, both of you lived very unconventional lives at times - but that’s what made it work so well. You’d kept your relationship away from the public for this entire time, not wanting to risk it ending up like the majority of YouTube relationships nowadays. You liked the fact that your relationship still felt like your own, and you didn’t have to fear the audience response to seeing you with a boyfriend. They’d never seen that side of your life, and truth be told, you were fearful of showing them. For now, it felt so much more comfortable to keep Arón separate. Like it still meant you had him all to yourself.

- - - - - -

The next day, after waking up a little too late, you make sure to post your video on time and read through the comments as soon as it reaches your audience. It had been a fitness challenge that you’d had to ask Arón to help you film when you were at the gym. He’d spent half the time zooming into your face far too close or stopping filming because you’d made him laugh and you could hear him on the recording. Somehow, you’d still managed to avoid showing him in the footage and made sure that he couldn’t be heard too much through the microphone.

“What do you fancy for dinner, darling?” Arón asks as he steps into your filming room and sees you sat at your desk in your gaming chair.

“I’m just reading through the response to the video,” You explain as he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your shoulders, you run your hands along his arms as they encase you.

“Are they all talking about my brilliant filming skills?” He grins, kissing your cheek.

You point out one comment that questions in all capital letters ‘who does she have filming this? Y’all seriously can’t tell me she’s still single!!!!!’

Arón laughs and clicks to read the responses to the comment, pausing on one that is a timestamp from the video. A specific second in the footage that you find yourself skipping to on the video timeline to find exactly what one of your fans was talking about. Quite rightly so, at that exact second, you can just about make out Arón in the reflection of one of the mirrors in the gym. His face isn’t visible but his distinctive curls are obvious enough.

“Shit, do you think they know it’s you?” You ask, sitting more upright in your chair as you look through the rest of the comments about that exact moment.

Some people were suggesting different names, different people that could take the face of that curly hair - but only a few had actually suggested Arón. Someone mentioned the fact that you’d been at the Élite premiere and pointed out that you could’ve been going as his date rather than just a guest at the event - that was, in fact, the truth. Someone else mentioned how Omar followed you on Instagram - the initial way you’d met Arón.

“Oh come on, look, they’re saying loads of names,” He points out, “Theyre all just guessing, my name was bound to be in there at some point.”

“I’m so sorry, I had no idea that they’d be able to see y-“

“Hey,” Arón turns your chair around so you’re facing him, “It’s fine, honestly. I don’t care, okay?”

“Are you sure?” You sigh, smiling as he cups your face in his hands.

“Positive,” He nods, leaning in and kissing you, “I say we just order in for dinner.”

You laugh and let him pull you up to stand, “Good idea.”

- - - - - -

The following day, you and Arón are on your way to your parents place for your father’s birthday. You manage to get up at a semi-acceptable time and keep yourself away from social media to avoid all of the questions about your mystery boyfriend. You step into the taxi and try to keep yourself relaxed.

“Hey! I know you!” The taxi driver speaks up, glancing in the mirror at Arón, “You’re on Netflix. My daughter watches your show all the time!”

“Thanks man, that means a lot,” Arón smiles politely, glancing at you for a second.

The man rambles on a little more about the show and how much he’d learnt about it from his daughter, laughing at how jealous she’d be that he’d met Arón.

“And is this your girlfriend?” The taxi driver asks, glancing at you in the mirror too.

“No, just a friend,” Arón nods, forcing a little smile in your direction, “So, have you been busy today?”

You’re relieved that he steers the topic away from you and tries to keep some level of awkward small talk with the driver as you eventually pull up in town.

“You can just drop us here, buddy, thank you,” Arón comments, getting out of the car and waiting for you.

“That’s a sign! That’s a sign, people know about us,” You state simply as you step out of the car, “I’m certain.”

“(Y/n)!” Arón laughs, “It’s fine! We have no certainty that people know we’re together, and we’ll let it stay that way. Stop worrying honey, you’ll give yourself a heart attack.”

You sigh and try to relax under the influence of his words.

“You’re cute when you get stressed,” He chuckles, reaching for your hand and squeezing it, “Really cute.”

You cock a brow, “You know, maybe I should tell everyone about us - feed you to the lions type of attitude.”

Arón laughs, “They’ll fucking love me!”

He cups your jaw with his free hand and dips his head to press a kiss to your waiting lips. It’s soft and it gives the sincerity to his words that his tone hadn’t done. You were so worried about everyone finding out about you, mainly because you were terrified of it ruining a time in your life where you were happier than you’d ever been. It was silly but you liked the idea of preventing your relationship from being strained by the public view. For now, it felt so much easier to keep this between you. When it had first started, you wanted to keep things private until you knew that this was something real and something you were sure of. But when you’d started to feel that way, it felt even more important to keep that private - knowing that you cared too much about Arón to jeopardise anything.

“Come on, lets go grab some food,” He encourages, locking his hand with yours before swinging an arm over your shoulder so that your interlocked hands rested just over your heart, “What are the odds that the taxi driver was actually a fan? I bet he doesn’t even have a daughter!” Arón jokes and yet again manages to say exactly what you needed to hear to ease your stress.

- - - - - -

A little later, as you’re sat at your parents house with your parents and your siblings, Arón comes walking through from the kitchen with your nephew in his arms.

“There she is!” He grins when he sees you, letting your nephew run over until he jumps into your arms.

“Where have you two been?” You laugh, looking at his disheveled Arón appeared.

“We’ve been on the trampoline,” Arón groans, flopping down beside you, “I think I’m too old for that now.”

“You think?” You smirk, “You’re a mess!”

He grabs your phone from the side and checks his appearance in the black screen. Your nephew giggles and reaches over to grab at his messy curls. Arón smiles and goes to tickle him, only glancing away when he sees your phone ping in his hand.

“Jeez, you’re popular today,” He comments, showing you the endless list of notifications on your phone.

“Probably just the boys asking about playing later, can you open it for me?” You ask, shifting your nephew so he was now stood on your thighs facing you as you make silly faces at him to keep him occupied.

“Oh shit...” Arón mumbles.

“Arón!” You hiss, making wide eyes in the direction of your nephew.

“Sorry, babe, but you need to see this,” You set your nephew down and he runs off to his own mother before you take your phone from Arón.

His reaction now seemed completely justified. In a group chat with a bunch of your friends from YouTube, you’re being bombarded with messages. Some of them are accompanied by photos but the majority are accompanied by laughing emojis. Quite rightly so as the photos show clear shots of you and Arón from earlier. The images had clearly been taken from across the street when you’d first got out of the taxi. One of you laughing at something he’d said, one of you kissing, another of you kissing, and a few of you walking away with his arm around you.

“Who took those?!” You exclaim, “I didn’t even see anybody... or hear anybody...”

“Hey, hey, look,” Arón nudges you, handing you his own phone that showed all of his mentions on Instagram.

You’d already been tagged in a flurry of posts about the situation - 100% of them being purely positive and excited for both of you. People saying how perfect you were for each other. Some pointing out moments from your streams and from YouTube where it was obvious you were talking to someone behind the camera - who they now understood to be Arón.

“They’re all so excited,” You half-laugh, “Look, theres even a fucking video of us!”

You show him a video a fan had taken of you two together that’s accompanied by the caption - ‘I wanted to speak to them but they’re just so fricking cute I didn’t want to disturb them!!!’

You smile at all of the supportive messages from your fans, commenting on how happy they were for you, though some were jealous of you being Arón’s girlfriend.

“Well, looks like that turned out better than we expected,” Arón comments, “Should we say anything?”

You look at him and grin, flicking your Instagram camera on as you pose for the photo. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and rests his head against yours as you both smile at the screen.

You type out a quick caption ‘You got us...’ and post it to your story. Though you lock your phone before you can become too bombarded by replies to the image.

“Shit, does this mean I can play Warzone with you now?!”

“You’re still terrible, maybe when you get a bit better,” You laugh, kissing him quickly.

#aron #aron piper #aron x reader #aron x you #aron x y/n #aron piper x reader #aron piper x you #aron piper x y/n #aron imagine #aron one shot #aron drabble #aron blurb #aron fanfiction #aron writing #aron request #aron piper imagine #aron piper one shot #aron piper drabble #aron piper blurb #aron piper fanfiction #aron piper writing #aron piper request #elite #elite fanfiction #elite imagine #elite one shot #elite drabble #elite blurb #elite writing #elite request

[kpop-uni]

Through the Lens // Five

Christian YuxYoutuber!Reader Words: 4.5K A/N: WOW did this take forever :( I’m sorry for the long wait but as you guys probably know I’m not in the best mental place right now and my main priority was getting help for me. Though, thanks for sticking with me! Love ya lots! But we’re looking at maybe? Two chapters until the end? Like usual I might post a poll on what fic to post but if anything I’ll just post summaries and Ill update as I go along~ If anything, a poll will be up with weekend to see what fics I’ll be posting next!

Chapter Four // Chapter Six

To everyone, except for Gyungmo of course, nothing was out of the ordinary with you. You smiled and joked around the same, always enthusiastic about going out to eat or shoving your mouth with snacks. But, the moment that Christian joined, or if Chaeyoung was present, everything with you went quiet. You stayed in your place with the same excuses. 

"I'm editing." "No, I'm just making sure the battery is okay." "I gotta make notes on what to delete."

Scott, on the other hand, began to notice, furrowing his eyebrows and thinking that maybe Chaeyoung had said something to you. But even when he knew no one was noticing the two of you, Chaeyoung offered you her snacks, always asking if you needed something from the store or if she could watch while you went over the edited videos. You tensed a bit when she was near you, giving her one-worded answers or sometimes answering with a shake of your head. 

"Did I do something to her?" Chaeyoung looked over at Christian. 

You had left the room rather quickly after Chaeyoung gave Christian a kiss on the cheek. Chaeyoung turned to you as you slammed your laptop shut, quickly walking out of the studio with Scott right behind you. 

"Hm?" Christian finally gave his attention to Chaeyoung, eyes moving away from the reflection of the studio glass. He saw how Scott was whispering to you, your shoulders slumping, getting up and leaving with him right behind you. Christian's blood boiled, hands clenching into fists. 

"If I did or say something to her," Chaeyoung repeated, elbow resting on the table and fist on her temple. "I feel like she doesn't like me much,"

Before Christian could answer, Gyungmo came in with Cline right behind him, the two showing Christian the finished song. 

"Gyungmo, I can't do this anymore..." You sighed, your thumb pad between your teeth as you nibbled on it, a habit you had when nervous or stressed.

"I told you, just stop overthinking these things-"

"But it's like he's rubbing it in my face," You turned to Gyungmo, hands now on your knees before you sighed, going back to staring at your laptop screen. "This video is almost half an hour long and I still haven't added any footage of him. And to top it, this whole part was about his process!"

Gyungmo sighed, biting his inner cheek, silent until you let your head fall. "So? Are you gonna cut this part out of the series?"

It was quiet, Gyungmo waiting for your response before you shook your head, giving out a sigh. You'll admit, you wanted to skip this part of the series but you knew you would get questions about why and the last thing you wanted was for fans to twist around your intensions. "No, I have to film him and see if he needs anything edited out."

With a nod, Gyungmo left you to continue his work. You hesitantly reached for your camera and laptop, holding on to the charger with your finger as you made your way to Christian's workspace. You stood outside the door, calming your nervous as you lifted your fist, about to knock when the door was pulled open, Christian looking down at you.

He was a bit startled, blinking and taking the tiniest of steps back before you immediately looked down. He watched as you fidgeted, almost dropping your laptop in the process of trying to find your words.

"I need to edit my video with you, just to see if it's okay with you and if you want-"

"I'm going on a date with Chaeyoung, can it wait?"

You gulped at the interruption, your voice already shaking with the nervous. The last thing you wanted was to make an even bigger fool out of yourself so you nodded. You simply stepped back, Christian moving past you and ignoring the way you bit your lip, heading in the opposite direction.

You locked yourself in Cline's space, taking deep breaths and calming yourself down. You slumped down on the arm of the couch, closing your eyes and breathing in and out. With a sigh and soft bite to the corner of your lip, you gulped down the rest of the feelings you had, fixing your laptop and charger in your hand before standing.

Scott looked down the halls, trying to find any sign of you before spotting you checking your phone, calling your name. You were a bit startled, Scott laughing as he walked over. "You hungry?"

You spent the afternoon in with Scott at a small restaurant, the two of you laughing and talking about anything Scott was working on. Eventually, the conversation turning into a game that Scott was interested in playing.

"I think my next series is going to be just playing that game, I've heard good things about it,"

"Are you seriously going to go back to gameplays?" Scott asked, excitement in his eyes as you laughed. The two of you eventually felt like you overstayed your lunch break, Scott letting you pay for the food after losing to a quick round of rock, paper, scissors.

When the two of you walked out, you looked up to find Christian and Chaeyoung walking across the street, hands tightly grasped. Chaeyoung giggling about whatever Christian whispered about, a smirk on his face. You ignored them, focusing on Scott who kept telling his story, your hand in the crook of his arm as the two of you decided to go on a stroll. You laughed a little at what Scott said, distracting you from Christian.

But Chaeyoung noticed you right away, smiling a bit and leaning her head on Christian's bicep. "Aren't they so cute? I feel like they were meant for each other,"

Christian looked over, quickly spotting how much you were laughing at Scott's hands tickling your sides. He clenched his teeth, Scott leaning all his weight on you as you attempted to hold him up, whining his name as he laughed, the two of you stumbling slightly.

You let Scott drag you back to him, continuing the walk. Christian hummed, turning back ahead and trying to ignore what he saw, letting out a breath. "She seems so nice... I kind of feel bad because I think she just doesn't like me," Chaeyoung let the conversation end there, focusing on Christian and their date. But Christian's jaw tensed, looking down at Chaeyoung.

"I'm sure you did nothing, she's just a little hard to get along with at first,"

Gyungmo and Scott had invited the guys on your last night to end your vacation with a celebration, hosting a house party in Scott's place. You knew it wasn't nice, but you couldn't help but feel happy that Christian and Chaeyoung didn't go. You wanted to enjoy yourself once more before heading home, and you knew you weren't going to be able to if you only saw them together.

You let yourself relax, enjoying the company of Hyuk who wouldn't let you go, making you shy whenever you were teased about it. Woo taught you how to spin a few records, teaching you the basics of how to DJ. You stayed with your camera glued to your hand, taking pictures and videos of everyone and everything.

The next morning, you sat on the hotel bed, showered and with everything packed save for your laptop case. You tried looking for the courage to send the text, looking down at your phone. You let out a breath, squeezing your eyes closed and pressing the send button.

Christian's attention was given to his phone at the ding it made, seeing a text from you and sighing a bit.

Y/N 12:54 PM: Can we edit the video now?

Christian knew he couldn't avoid you forever, so he replied back that he was in his studio and to go over. He sat back in his chair, hands rubbing his face as he knew he needed to face you sooner or later. But still, he couldn’t help the anger that bubbled up whenever he saw you, knowing you belonged to Scott.

Christian waited for half an hour, closing his laptop and just about to give up on you when you knocked, heading inside the studio.

"Hey,"

Christian looked up from his laptop, seeing you walk in with your own laptop on hand. You closed the door behind you, Christian, without a word, moved his things aside and giving you room to set your laptop down.

The tension was thick and you began to think that you took forever in setting your editing programs up, taking a seat and clearing your throat. "So, I'm going to combine the videos and play them, I'll tell you my plans and you tell me what you want me to get rid of."

With only a nod and a hum that Christian gave you, you opened the file only for Christian's part of the series, clicking into each video in the order you set it. You waited as he watched the first clip, biting your tongue gently.

Christian was clicking away in the video, eyes focused on his screen as you zoomed in a bit, giggling. He turned to you, giving you a confused look before breaking out into a smile.

"You don't need this one," Christian sat back into his chair, making you hum.

"This one is the intro, kind of to kick it off." You hesitated on looking at him, Christian rolling his eyes and shrugging, sighing out a quiet whatever. You looked back at the video, clicking out of it and moving it to a new file, continuing the second video.

"Delete that, I want my programs to be kept to myself," You nodded, adding in an edit, making sure to type it into the notes on your phone, continuing the video.

Your leg shook with nerves, eyes glued to the screen, going from video to video and doing everything that Christian told you to do with it. It was only a couple more videos when a knock on the door made you both turn, Chaeyoung poking her head before giving a shy smile. “Sorry, I’ll let you guys continue-“

“No, it’s fine.” Christian waved her in, pulling a chair right next to him. You squirmed in your seat, eyes going back to your screen and clicking through the video. You ignored the tiny giggle that escaped Chaeyoung and the soft kiss that Christian gave her until Christian gave you his attention again.

By the end, what could've been a 24-minute long video turned into only 5 minutes. You combined all the videos together, seeing the time limit and frowning, going through other files to look for any other videos you could add.

"That's it, right? We finished?" You could hear the impatience in Christian's voice, pulling his laptop closer. Chaeyoung helped him pull his items closer, going back to resting her arm on the table.

"No, the video needs to be longer than just five minutes," You ignored the way Christian grumbled, closing your eyes and continuing to look for more videos.

"Why don't you like Chaeyoung? What did she do to you?"

You were caught off guard with the question, fingers freezing as you looked at Christian. He glared at you, almost as if he wanted to bury you alive, hand gripping the mouse. Chaeyoung, who was once on her phone, turned to Christian so quick, you thought she was going to snap her neck.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, letting your hands fall from your keyboard to your lap, shaking your head as you scoffed. “What?” 

With a sarcastic chuckle, Christian shook his head. “Everyone can tell that you don’t like Chaeyoung. So why? She’s been nothing but nice to you-“

“Who said that I didn’t like her? I never said that!” You argued back, turning fully toward him. 

“You make it so fucking obvious!” Christian raised his voice, hand waving as if he were showing you how obvious it was. “All that’s left is for you to openly tell her to fuck off-“ 

“Why the hell are you saying such shit?” You yelled back, glaring at Christian. “I’m sorry that I don’t want to talk to your girlfriend like she's my best friend! Is that what’s bugging you?” 

“Ian, stop...” Chaeyoung tried to stop Christian, looking at you with worried eyes. “I’m so sorry, please just ignore him.”

“Come on,” Christian laughed, shaking his head. “Y/N, you literally act like a bitch with her. You’re all fun and games with everyone and when she comes in the hate just oozes out of you!”

Your eyes widened, slamming your laptop closed and grabbing your things. Chaeyoung flinched at the slam, a quiet yelp leaving her and Christian only flinched a bit. “Have you ever thought that maybe it’s not her I hate, Christian?” You turned to the door, grabbing the doorknob. “Maybe, just maybe, it’s you that I hate?” 

Before you could even take a step out, the door was slammed closed, catching you off guard. You were spun around, backing yourself to the door as Christian's jaw clenched, eyes filled with anger as your hands pressed into his chest, attempting to prevent him from getting closer.

"You have no fucking reason to hate me," Christian's words came out quietly, each one oozing venom. Your eyes that were once wide in surprise turned into a hard glare, adding force to your push that only resulted in Christian moving only slightly back. "I never did anything to you.“

"Ian..." Chaeyoung hissed, worry evident on her face as she desperately tried to pull him away from you. "That's enough, okay? You don't need to do this-"

"Never did anything to me?" You scoffed, staring up at Christian in disbelief. "You treated me so nice the whole beginning, but one little drunken night that we kissed and you suddenly changed on me! And you got yourself a girlfriend making me think that I'm the problem!"

Chaeyoung finally stopped trying to pull Christian -who was frozen in shock- back, as Chaeyoung looked at you as if you had grown another head, shaking her head a bit. "Christian wouldn't do that..."

You looked at Christian, an eyebrow raised as you waited for him to talk. “You didn’t tell her? That I pulled you out to dance and you made me think there might have been something between us, only for you to make me feel like a cheap hookup?” 

Christian was at a loss for words, only staring at you as he finally stepped back enough, letting you rush out of the room. You stopped before closing the door, looking at Christian one more time. “I regret ever getting close to you,” The slam of the door echoed in the room, Chaeyoung letting out a breath and moving away. 

“I really thought you started to like me,” Chaeyoung’s voice was soft, pulling away from Christian to grab her phone. 

“I do-“ 

“No, you don’t,” Chaeyoung looked up at Christian. He faced her, worry on his face as Chaeyoung sighed. “Why did you even do this to her? To me?”

Christian tried to say something, anything to not hurt Chaeyoung. His mouth opened and closed as if he was choking on air, trying to find the right words before closing his eyes, letting out a breath. 

“She doesn’t like me, she was drunk and I thought maybe, just maybe, she liked me but she only liked Scott. She probably only kissed me to get back at him since he was with some other girl.” Christian moved to sit on his chair, burying his face in his hands. “I didn’t want to hurt you, and you’re so cool and I thought maybe I can forget her but-“

“You’re still into her,” Chaeyoung finished his sentence, Christian quiet. He clasped his hands in front of his face, only nodding. Chaeyoung looked down, silently walking out the studio. 

Christian stayed in silence, head spinning with thoughts of everything that has happened. He groaned, burying his face in his arms, wrapping his hands around his head, wanting to curl into a ball and hide for a while. 

You tried to calm down, huffing out in anger as you set your things down on a desk, your eyes closed as you finally let yourself breathe. "Everything okay?"

Scott smiled when he found you, walking over as you sat up on the desk, swinging your legs lightly. He stood next to your legs, watching your lips curve up into a small smile. "It's flight nerves, nothing too big,"

Scott stayed quiet, knowing you were lying but only responding with a smile, patting your thigh gently. You were quiet, your fingernails gently scratching Scott's head as his eyes closed a bit, enjoying the attention. You smiled a little, tilting your head a bit. "Sometimes when you spend time with me, I wish you were the one I fell for,"

Scott scoffed, laughing a bit as his eyes stayed closed, leaning more into you before resting his head on your arm. "We would be that famous couple that people would call us mom and dad,"

"Bold you to think they already don't," You giggled as Scott laughed quietly.

You both stayed silent a bit longer, Scott eventually pulling back and grabbing your things, silently giving you the hint that it was time to leave. "I'm sorry things didn't work with the guy you liked," Scott grabbed your hand, fingers intertwining as the two of you headed to your hotel.

"It's whatever, I'm just glad I never told him or else I would've died from embarrassment." You shook your head, letting out a sigh. "Guess I just thought he liked me too,"

"Well he's an idiot if he doesn't like you, you would've been an amazing girlfriend." Scott smiled at your laugh, staying quiet during the short walk. He held the door of the hotel open for you, following you to the elevators. 

“You know, lowkey you can give Gyungmo a chance.” 

The suggestion caught you off guard, making you look at Scott as the two of you stood in your spots, ignoring the elevator door as it opened. Scott only laughed a bit, pressing the button to keep the door open as he stepped inside. “I was just saying,” 

“Scott, what does that even mean?” 

You knew exactly what it meant, anyone hearing Scott would know what it meant. But still, you were caught off guard and now with this sudden news, you weren’t sure you were hearing things correctly. 

“I mean, Gyungmo has a thing for you. Or had... I’m not sure anymore.” Scott pressed the button again as the doors closed, reaching for your wrist to pull you inside. 

“He had a thing for me?” You ask, letting yourself get dragged into the elevator. 

“Okay don’t make this weird for him, I wasn’t supposed to tell you,” Scott watched as you simply nodded, blinking a bit but still processing everything he said, only looking up when the doors opened on your floor. 

“Is he still coming to drive me?” You asked, Scott now on his phone. 

“Yeah, he said to just give him a heads up.” 

You asked him to send Gyungmo the text, stepping inside your room and putting away the last bit of your things. Scott sat at the end of the bed, phone in hand as he scrolled through it, occasionally looking up to see if you needed any help. 

With a groaned sigh, you plopped on the bed next to Scott, resting your head on his shoulder. You two stayed quiet, looking at everything ready to be taken to the car, Scott occasionally chuckling a bit at something he would see on his phone. At the sound of a knock, you let Scott open the door and let in Gyungmo and Cline. You held on to Gyungmo's sleeve, letting him stay back as Cline and Scott left with a suitcase, the two talking. 

"Scott said something to me," You kept your eyes on Gyungmo as he furrowed his eyebrows, thinking on what Scott could've possibly said to you. "He said you have a thing for me?"

With a sigh and smile, Gyungmo shook his head, intertwining your fingers with his. "I had a thing for you, I mean, you're so cute in your videos and you're kind and a sweetheart in person. But I like you like this, being with me and gossiping about stupid shit," 

You couldn't help the smile on your face, getting shy and looking down a little. Gyungmo watched as you collected yourself, lightly slapping your cheeks to get rid of the blush that you knew was present before swinging your bag over your shoulder. Gyungmo stayed by your side, the two of you in comforting silence. "Thanks for being there for me all this time, I hope you know I'm going to be there for you if you ever need me,"

Everything was quiet until you made it outside, Scott and John laughing loudly as Cline was dancing weirdly. Gyungmo stood next to you, a smile on his face as he watched Cline before elbowing you lightly, motioning to your phone. You giggled as Cline exaggerated his dancing more, moving closer to you and the laughter got louder from all of them. Before Cline could exaggerate anymore, John gasped about the time and everyone scattered to put the luggage in Gyungmo's car, rushing you inside. 

The airport buzzed with people traveling in and out, the place almost a blur with everyone. You checked in with Scott by your side, making sure you had all your documents before you made your way to security. A soft sigh later, you let Scott pull you into a hug, wrapping your arms around him tightly. 

"Thank you for letting me do this, I promise you guys are going to love it," You pulled back to offer Scott a hug grin, getting one in return. 

"We better, or you're coming back to film everything all over again," Scott joked, making you giggle. 

You gave Cline and John a hug, looking over at Gyungmo and wrapping your arms around his neck. "Thanks for everything," You whispered, kissing his cheek softly as you pulled back. Gyungmo smiled, trying to hide his blushing. With one final wave, you fixed your bag, using your phone to record the guys once more before heading to your terminal. 

Christian tried not to make it obvious as he walked up and down the halls of the building, looking for any sign of you. It had been two days and after you blocked him on Instagram, Christian had no idea what you were up to. He hadn't seen you in so long, and he didn't want to ask Scott seeing that as every time he tried to get some info, Scott just told him to text you.

Christian didn't bother to knock, just swinging the door open of Scott's studio to find him too close for comfort with a girl that wasn't you. She had a smile on her face, eyebrow raised as Scott leaned closer, only a breath away from kissing her. But the sudden door opened caused the two to look at Christian, his eyes wide in shock. 

"Hey, what's up?" Scott turned to Christian who collected his thoughts before his blood boiled, teeth-gritting in anger. 

"Are you fucking serious?" Christian erupted, Scott and the girl both startled from the sudden outburst. "Just because y/n isn't here you get to cheat on her?"

"What?" The girl glared at Scott, starting to push him away. "Who the hell is y/n?"

"Wait! What? No, hold up!" Christian moved aside as the girl furiously left, Scott trying to call her back before giving up, glaring at Christian. "Dude, what the fuck! You know how long I've been trying to get her to agree to go on a date-"

"What about y/n?" Christian yelled back, pushing Scott back. 

"What about her? She's not even here!" Scott stumbled into the soundboard table, muttering a curse as his wrist got hit by the edge.

The outburst caught the attention of Gyungmo who rushed over, getting between both men. "What the hell is going on?"

"This asshole is practically fucking some girl in here just because y/n isn't here!" Christian tried to push Gyungmo away, trying to reach Scott but he moved farther away.

"What does she have anything to do with it?" Scott yelled back, gesturing around the room. "She's not here!"

"How the hell are you going to cheat on her like that!" 

Scott stopped himself, blinking a bit before thinking about what Christian had just said. "Cheat on y/n? I'm not dating her, man."

Christian stopped trying to get past Gyungmo, furrowing his eyebrows. "Did you break up with her?" 

"I wasn't dating her in the first place?" Scott grew even more confused, Gyungmo stepping away from Christian as he sat on a chair, sighing heavily. 

"You really never noticed that it was Rome that she liked?" Cline's voice made the three turn to him, being caught off guard. Gyungmo was just as surprised at Cline's comment, the three staring at him. "Wait-"

"Did you think I didn't know?" Cline interrupted Gyungmo, head tilted in curiosity. "It was pretty obvious, I mean, I thought he liked her too but I guess not since Chaeyoung is in the picture." With a shrug, Cline dropped the subject, making everyone look at each other. 

"Well, here I was thinking it was Hyuk..." Scott rubbed his cheek, pensive about everything that was said. "No wonder it didn't make sense." 

"Wait... What?" Christian still couldn't get the whole picture, shaking his head. "She likes me?" 

"She fucking fell in love with you, idiot." Gyungmo sighed, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Only you would think she and Scott are dating."

"Man, Hyuk was a better suspicion than me. He was practically all over her, especially during her goodbye party. " Scott sat on the edge of his soundboard, shaking his head.

"Goodbye party?" Christian repeated, looking at Scott. 

"We texted you about it, we just thought you were being an asshole and didn't want to go," Cline spoke up, still standing right outside the room. "She went back home like two days ago," 

Christian groaned, rubbing his face and gripping his hair. "I fucked up..."

"You think?" Scott scoffed, rolling his eyes. But still, Scott watched as Christian beat himself over what happened. With a sigh, Scott stood up straight. "I can help you find her. So you can properly apologize for being such a fucking dick." Christian looked up at his friend, slightly nodding his head. With a glare and roll of his eyes, Scott pulled out his phone, going to an old video on your channel and showing it to Christian. "She always hangs around here. It's her favorite place."

Tag list: @derya-t​ // @mara-twins​ // @thefangirlsoul​

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