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#this has nothing to do with my last reblog btw
daincrediblegg · 24 days
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no you know what I'm going to scream about the stuff I talked about in the tags of this post publicly
I'm tired of the well-meaning "don't feel bad if your work only gets 20 notes your genius is what counts and do it for you!" bullshit. I've had a good handful of friends who have straight up DEACTIVATED in recent months because their work was not getting reblogged AT ALL. No, it wasn't from lack of not being well-liked, no it wasn't from lack of trying to make sure it was getting out there to the people they knew would engage with it. It was because no matter how much they were praised privately for their work, when push came to shove, absolutely NOBODY reblogged it and gave it the audience that it was due, and I'm tired of people shoving the "unsung genius" narrative as an excuse for it. Nothing excuses that. And the boop event really proved that.
because I know given the opportunity, indiscriminately pressing a button (sometimes 10 thousand times, as I did) is not beyond this website's capability. y'all loved doing that. and look at what it wrought. nothing but love and affection and happiness. just from a couple of quick clicks of a little paw button. sure. nobody knew who you booped but the other person (which is how likes used to work on this website, btw). there was an element of anonymity to it. but that is kind of the core of this website that no other social media platform still has: the ability to be anonymous. and hyper-curating a blog on here like you might on twitter or instagram to project an image is simply not viable. and hey. you wanna know a secret: literally nobody cares what you post or whether it goes with the "theme" of your blog or not. yeah. I know. CRAZY concept in this day and age. but literally. I myself have reblogged things that have had nothing to do with whatever I am currently fixated by and you know what happened to my follower count? not a damn thing. in fact, I actively try to reblog things specifically BECAUSE it's my friends who made them (even though I'm not always good at KEEPING UP WITH HOW MUCH THEY POST @prismatica-the-strange will NEVER GO UNRECOGNIZED by me).
And you know what fucking sucks? I have to deal with this too. surprise right? you ever wonder why I reblog fics or art I post like 20 times the day that I post them? do you ever wonder why I ask about tag lists and beg for asks all the time? IT'S BECAUSE EVEN I GET LIKE. 5 LIKES ON THE THINGS I POST. AND THE REST OF THE REBLOGS ARE MINE SO I CAN MAKE SURE THAT PEOPLE WHO WANT TO SEE WHAT I MAKE GET TO SEE IT. and I say that knowing that I'm certainly not an unpopular blog, or an unpopular writer. I know that people love the stories that I create. Hell, half of the people that I've talked to about lady terror have told me that they consider her to be canon (AND EVEN SOME!! THOUGHT SHE WAS!!! WITHOUT EVEN HAVING WATCHED THE SHOW! WHICH IS STILL SO SO WILD TO ME!!!) But especially in the last 4 years (which really dates this phenomenon), my posts, no matter how well received they've been amongst people I've talked to about them directly, I still go into the notes and at least half (often more than half) are MY reblogs to make sure people saw what I posted. and it happens every single time, and I can't tell you how much it crushes me considering that it used to be that I would be able to post it only once, and people would reblog it sometimes even HUNDREDS of times.
It's not about popularity. it never has been. it's not about anxiety. or shifting website cultures. even if you lurk, the simple fact is, that if you want people to keep making what you love. you have to reblog. your theme won't suffer because you reblogged a fanfiction that you really admire. your posting won't be ruined because you reblogged some fanart from someone in a different fandom. really. I promise. and if people do unfollow you for that? who needs em. followers come and go but you should NEVER have to cater to them. on this website it has ALWAYS been the other way around. lean into it. make it yours. put stuff you ACTUALLY WANT to be seen and that you love and appreciate on your blog. no matter how old it is, how new it is, no matter how niche or off-theme it is.
so please. if you really want to show your appreciation for someone's work? you reblog. it's really as easy as that. check the tags. add some when you reblog if you like. but please for the love of god reblog. it's as easy as booping and even more rewarding for the people who you reblog from. if you want to let someone know that their work is genius and appreciate it? show it. reblog. then DM them if you're too nervous to say what you want to say but not in a public forum. but for christ's sake. REBLOG.
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milo-is-rambling · 1 year
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Thinking about drinking again want to be home alone forever that’s called moving out idiot get a job lol thanks brain anyways where’s the vodka
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00-jammy-00 · 1 month
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Helloo!!^_^
Could I request a yan who everyone likes? Like nobody would suspect yan!
I guess golden retriever!yan? Maybe darling tries to say something but nobody believes them because they think darling is trying to ruin yan’s reputation ? :33
Btw could I be 🍯 anon?
Yan!GoldenBoy HC’s
Yan!GoldenBoy x GN! Reader
Content warning - Yandere themes, obsession, murder, nsfw mentions, possessiveness, stalking, yan has mood swings, he’s a little bitch.
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Yan!GoldenBoy who was good looking. He could get anything he wanted with a hand through his hair and a flash of his charming pearly whites. He knew he was handsome, he knew people trusted him, he knew all this and he knew it would only make it easier to get you.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who has been obsessed with you for months! He was playing basketball for his school when he saw you for the first time. You were just sitting on the benches, none of that cringe ‘they were reading a book instead of paying attention.’ you were simply watching the game but you looked so radiant while doing it, he couldn’t help but rush over when the game finished.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who tripped over his own feet to chase you down near the exit, he put an arm around your shoulders and flashed that charming smile. He talked to you for a few minutes, making sure to totally not brag about the fact he was the captain of the basketball team, he was really humble you know?
Yan!GoldenBoy Who offered you a car ride home with those gorgeous honey coloured eyes yet was completely shocked when you said no. You said…no? What the fuck does no mean? Who the fuck do you think you are?! You’re lucky he doesn’t fucking kill you!
Yan!GoldenBoy Who just gives you a sweet smile and insists only to clench his jaw when you refuse again. God you’re making this so fucking hard, you’re gorgeous, you’re everything, which means you’re meant to be his for fucks sake.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who vows he’ll never leave you alone. You’re destined to be his, you’re perfect, he’s perfect, so you have to be together, you’re soulmates! He uses a few favours to find out everything about you. Your address, who your family is, where you work, your favourite brand, what your favourite scent is, your zodiac sign, blood type, what hospital you were born at, what cemetery you might want to get buried at. You know, the usual stuff.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who is practically drooling as he jerks himself off to your underwear which he had…borrowed…from your house on his last so called visit. He had cum so much he was having dry orgasms babe! Why do you still not want him?! He could be so good for you!
Yan!GoldenBoy Who sits in his nice car with a pair of binoculars to make sure nothing strange is happening in your room. He’s just keeping you safe, what if someone comes around and tries to steal you?! Don’t worry, your boyfriend is here for you, he’ll protect you. Your boyfriend…god just the idea of being your boyfriend makes him hard all over again.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who doesn’t care if he has to beat the shit out of some people. Your classmate was found with a ripped open chest and a missing heart? That’s terrible babe, but he can be your lab partner now! That one annoying bitch in your class had a bullet between her eyes and her heart missing just like your classmate? How tragic! Don’t worry, you’re safe with him.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who delivers special presents to your door every time a little rat decides to try and ruin his plans. Maybe if he gifts you the hearts from his victims, you’ll let him into yours <3
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Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, requests are open <3
please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.
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punksdoll · 5 months
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Hi, I was wondering if you could do Roman Reigns x fem! Reader, where she's a wrestler who's been out of action for a while, and she surprises him during WWE's Holiday Tour by making a return during his match with Karrion Kross, to take down Scarlett when she interferes, and they share a moment with the crowd.
Kinda similar to Seth & Becky last year at WWE's Holiday Tour in Toronto when he had a match with Finn, Rhea & Priest interfered & Becky handled her. Thanks, really enjoy your writing BTW!
~~~𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒌~~~
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gif not mine like, comments, & reblogs appreciated
𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒔 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ^owner of gif
𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚
𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒔 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍
𝒂/𝒏: 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒇𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒓<𝟑
𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝒚/𝒏 𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒅, 𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒅 𝒉𝒖𝒔𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒅, 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇
not proofread
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“What the hell!” Michael Cole shouts in his headset as the crowd lets out a shout when Scarlet is hit in the back with a kendo stick. “Who the hell is this?!”
Scarlet lets out screams as she is repeatedly hit in the back with a kendo stick before she is grabbed by the person and thrown over their shoulders. The person walks over to the commentary table and slams Scarlet down on it, crashing the table as the crowd gasp in confusion.
Roman looks on confused, glancing over at Paul who is just as confused. Paul takes it upon himself to walk over and check who the person is. Once it’s revealed to him who it is, he starts laughing with a smile.
“Oh my god.” Paul Heymam laughs hysterically as he claps his hand.
Roman stands up and stares at the person who takes off their hood to reveal Y/N Y/L/N. The crowd goes wild almost immediately when they see who it is.
“Oh my god! Oh my god!” Michael Cole, “It’s Y/N Y/L/N, Roman Reign’s wife! She’s been out due to an arm injury!” Michael Cole explains.
Roman slowly starts smiling as him and Y/n stare at each other. Roman never knew about this, they never even talked about her returning. Now that she’s back though, he has a ton of opportunities for her to have.
“Come inside here baby doll!” Roman motions inside the ring.
Y/n slides into the ring and skips over to him, wrapping her arms around him as he leans down and gives her a kiss. Everyone around them cheering.
“Why ain’t you tell me nothing?” Roman pulls back.
“Wanted to surprise you.” Y/n shrugs, glancing back at Scarlett and Karrion, “What should we do with them?”
Roman smirks and gives her a look that Y/n immediately understands as they both step out of the ring. They watch as both Scarlett and Karrion get to their feet and both start charging at them.
“Are they going to do it?! Are they?!” Michael Cole shouts
Both y/n and Roman hit a spear on Scarlett and Karrion making the crowd go crazy with cheers.
“Spear!” Michael Cole shouts, “A couples spear!” He exclaims.
Roman gets Karrion into the ring and pins him as Y/n stands above Scarlett, making sure she doesn’t interfere.
“1! 2! 3!” The crowd chants and the bell rings as they announce Roman retaining his titles.
Y/n slides inside the ring and jumps into Roman’s arm, “My tribal chief!” Y/n says, giving him a big kiss.
“Welcome back! Welcome back! Welcome back!”
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moghedien · 3 months
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So someone is in your inbox asking for money
I'm not going to say that every single instance of this happening is a scam, but in my experience, random people following you and then sending you an ask to ask you to reblog a post or donate, they are almost always a scam.
You may feel bad about ignoring them or deleting the ask, but doing so is probably going to be the best course of action. Not only so that YOU don't lose money but so that you don't give the scammer access to you followers.
But how could you know that the person is a scam and not the one instance where someone really needs help? Let's go over some ways to check for signs of a scammer.
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this is the post I got in my inbox today. I've personally never dealt with this particular version, so I didn't immediately delete. I probably wouldn't have reblogged anyway, but I wanted to look into this specifically.
The first thing to do is go on their blog. In this instance, the post they want me to reblog is pinned, and it also has a donation link. I'm NOT going to click on the link because there is no indication at all to what this might lead to and I'm going to instead hover over link and see what url pops up
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in this instance, the url shows me that I'm going to be redirected to paypal. IMMEDIATELY a sign that this is a scam. people can still scam with gofundme and other sites like that, sure, but at least with those sites, there is some accountability in that you can see if the donation goal is being met or not. with paypal, you're just blindly donating, assuming that this donation amounts are what the person says they're at.
And also this is not to say that honest people can't use paypal for donations, sometimes that's the only option. But if you're going to donate to someone via paypal, you should at the very least be personally aware of who you're donating to and that they are an actual person.
But let's look deeper just in case. The next thing to do is look for other sketchy signs on the blog. So I scrolled through to see what they were blogging about otherwise, and there were red flags here.
Just glancing through the blog, I could see that they almost exclusively posted about Taylor Swift and the Mandalorian. They posted A LOT within the past day (this is why you should have times enabled btw) and exclusively from the same four or fives blogs.
But maybe they just post a lot. You can actually very easily see their posting habits by looking at their archive.
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We're going to go to the three dots and click "view archive"
You can also just type in "[username].tumblr.com/archive" for any blog and access anyone's archive as long as they have a public account. But what's the point of doing that. Well, in the archive, we can get a very quick overview of someone's posting habits.
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And here I've circled in red the first and last thing this blog has posted in the month of February 2024 (the month I'm writing this). You can see that both of those posts were posted on the same day. Meaning all of their posts in the entire month of February happened on the same day.
But what about posts outside of February 2024?
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Well there are none
You can sort posts by month and year and doing so for this blog shows that they ONLY posted in February 2024 and ONLY one day in February and it happened to be the day before I got an ask in my inbox asking for donations.
These are the most obvious tells, but there are other signs you can look out for.
For instance, all of their posts are without any sort of tags. They never comment on anything and their only original post was their one asking for donations. If you click on the search function in their blog, nothing comes up
There's also the fact that the blog is clearly targeting at making the people who WOULD care about someone needing insulin sympathetic. The fact that they use BLM, identify as a black man, have pronouns in their bio all are on purpose to make people who might care feel like this is a person who deserves help. the scammer is using your empathy against you. DON'T LET THEM. Be smart and always always think before you act, even if that action is just posting. You can help people in need without feeding the vultures that want to take advantage and want to use YOU to steal from your community
But let's just be REALLY REALLY sure this is a scam.
On whim, I copied the text straight from the ask in my inbox and put into google and then added "tumblr' at the end. You'll be shocked to know there were immediate results and not from this blog
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First one was a reblog from over a year ago. the exact same wording minus the cost of the insulin and the call to action at the end
I clicked on the original poster for this and the blog was cleared out!
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Minus them using the exact same photograph in their header as the blog that sent me an ask today, of course.
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The second instance I found was slightly different wording, but using similar enough wording that it can be assumed came from the same scammer. This came from another ask in an inbox, but the receiver rightly called them out as a scam. The post is from two months ago and the blog that asked it as been deleted outright
All of this to say, there are always scammers on tumblr, but there have been a lot recently. This one happened to not be posing as Palestinians in need, but a lot are (in that instance, Palestinian bloggers have been vetting who is and isn't real so you can always check to see if they're getting support or getting called out from actual Palestinians). They won't always use these methods and won't always been this obvious, so even if you don't donate to someone yourself ALWAYS be thorough in your checking before you reblog a donation post. Make sure the charity its collecting for is REAL and if its a person asking for money, make sure that person is real as well.
You can help people without getting scammed or giving scammers access to your followers, and not reblogging every donation post doesn't make you a bad person or mean you don't care. Its important to be careful, and not being careful can do more harm than good. it makes actual people in need look sketchy and takes away resources that could have been given to them. So if you aren't sure if something is real DO NOT REBLOG IT
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sebuckyverse · 1 year
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for a good time, call [5]
modern!rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader
series summary: Eddie Munson is a burnt out rockstar, touring the country. When he finds a phone number written on a bathroom wall, he strikes an unusual friendship with a coffee shop barista who has no idea who he is.
warnings: 18+ cussing, smut, p in v sex, protected + unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, oral (f! receiving), dirty talk, flirting, self-doubt, mutual pining, angst, strangers to friends to lovers; lmk if i missed anything word count: 8,2k damn
an: the final chapter!! i can't believe it's over, i'm sweating!! MERRY CHRISTMAS BABIES i hope you like it as always, pls let me know. don’t forget to reblog babes! &lt;3 btw we can always do more blurbs and HC's about this fic, i am down for anything! and requests are open as well! mwah! also i wrote half of this on my phone sorry if it's shit
chapter four ♫ masterlist ♫ askbox
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chapter five ♫♪♩·.¸¸
A lot of good things happened to Eddie last night. He closed a deal with his future new manager, starting their collaboration early in the new year when he fulfills his current contract and he would be free to leave. He had a long talk with his band when they were alone, finding out that they were also unhappy with the way things had been going on so far. Then there was the show - it was different, good. Eddie was nervous, which he hadn't felt for a long time and he was excited. He loved the show, he was happy again. Simply because he knew you were there, watching him. He wore his best outfit, played his favourite guitar that night, he even added a touch of eyeliner to his look, which is something he used to do in his early days, when he was still performing to the local drunks back home.
But then everything went to shit. They had just come off stage, tired but in high spirits. Eddie's fingers were still tingling from all the playing, a bead of sweat running down his temple as he dropped down to the couch in the middle of the dressing room. He rested his head on the back of the worn out couch and closed his eyes for a minute, just enjoying the moment. His heart was still racing, but it wouldn't calm down now, not when he was anxiously waiting for you. There was a knock on the door, Eddies eyes popped open. It's only been a minute, he didn't expect you so soon.
The door flew open and in walked a girl, but not the one he was looking for. This girl, he knew very well, though he wish he didn't. Madeline. The press had picked up a scent they were dating about a year ago, Eddie didn't have to think too hard about who might have leaked it. Yes, they actually went on a date once, but nothing ever came of it. Eddie had realized his mistake on taking her out half way through the date. She was pretty and very ambitious, but it wasn't hard to see what she was really after. Not Eddie, his heart or soul, but something she deemed more valuable - the immediate popularity she would get once she'd bag him, not to mention the money of course. He remained a gentleman throughout the date but told her in the car later, when he offered to drop her home, that nothing would ever come of this.
Eddie thought it would end there, but every once in a while, she would pop back up. He blocked her number, when she tried to call him. He even banned her from coming to his shows, so the fact that she was here right now, was unpredicted. Her wild eyes quickly meet his uncertain ones and she jumps on the couch, too close for comfort. ''Eddie! Great show, as always. You're such a rockstar.''
Eddie subtly shifted away from her, trying to put distance between them. ''Madeline, what are you doing here?''
''Came to see you, silly,'' she yakked, resting her manicured hand on his knee, unphased when he immediately pulled away.
''Look,'' he sighed. ''I appreciate that and everything, but you need to leave. I'm expecting someone.''
''Oh, who?'' she asked.
''That's not your concern.''
''So it's a girl then,'' she stated, pouting her lips.
Eddie's patience was running thin, he fought the urge to roll his eyes. ''Madeline, for the 100th time - I am not interested in you. You need to accept that.''
''I find that hard to believe, Eddie. Your body is saying something different, it's hot against mine.'' Madeline scooted closer and pressed her body against his, their thighs touching.
''Are you out of your mind? I just did a show.'' Eddie was baffled, Madeline was annoying but she usually took the hint. She was now close enough that he could see her bloodshot eyes up close, then she sniffed. She was high, he realized, probably on something stronger. From his peripheral vision, Eddie could see one of the guys walk to the door, opening it.
''No, Eddie. I've never been more sane.'' She grabbed him by the shoulders and smashed her lipgloss sticky lips onto his with enough force to knock the wind out of him, catching him totally off guard.
It took two seconds for his senses to kick back in and to push her off. He held Madeline by the elbows, keeping her at arm's length. But it was too late. He turned to the door and there you were, looking at him. He didn't have to guess that it was you, he got that same feeling he always got when he talked to you. His tummy tingled, heart swelled, but this time it was tainted with enormous remorse. Your eyes were glossy with unshed tears, lips trembling. When the first tear rolled down your cheek, you turned and disappeared back towards the exit.
Eddie shot up from the couch and chased after you, the door slamming shut behind him. ''Y/N! Wait, please!''
''Don't bother, Eddie,'' you shot back, voice strained and shaking.
''This isn't what it looks like, I swear,'' Eddie pleaded with you, catching up and stopping in front of you. ''Please, let me explain.''
''Move,'' you deadpanned, face vacant of any emotion except for the two dried streaks running down your cheeks. Eddie placed his hands on your upper arms, to stop you from leaving, which you instantly jerked away from, like you'd been burned.
''Please,'' he begged, ''give me a chance to explain everything.''
''Just let me leave, Eddie,'' you wiped your face, arms crossing in front of you. You refused to look at him and he couldn't ignore the stab in his heart.
''Give me five minutes and I will do anything you want,'' Eddie pleaded, dipping his head trying to catch your eyes.
Locking eyes with him, you relented. ''Two minutes.''
''The girl you saw was Madeline, we went out once a year ago and she's been trying to snake her way into my life ever since. I'm not interested her and never was. I don't know how she got in tonight, she's high on something and then she kissed me.''
''Her instagram said you sent her VIP tickets,'' you said.
''That's bullshit. I didn't send her anything but I think I know who did,'' he defended.
You considered his words for a moment, before unlinking your arms and straightening your back. ''Okay, your two minutes is up. Now, you said something about doing anything I wanted?''
''Yeah?'' he asked, sounding a bit hopeful.
''Don't contact me again, Eddie.'' With that, you pushed past him, leaving the arena, taking his heart with him.
.•♫•♬•
Back in your car, you drove the few miles to your apartment instead of going back to your parents' house. You didn't have the strength to face Robin or answer any questions tonight. You dragged yourself up the stairs and pushed inside, locking the door afterwards. You stood in the middle of your living room, gathering your thoughts. The silence seemed extra haunting at this moment, seeping into your bones. You sat on the couch, kicking your boots off. Lifting your legs up, you laid down on your side, pulling a sage green fleece blanket over your shivering form, pulling it up to your chin.
When you closed your eyes, the only thing you saw were their locked lips.
After a pretty sleepless night, you decided to get up when you were awoken by the booming of thunder. You'd kept on the same position the entire night, you groaned when you stretched out on the small couch. You found your purse on the floor and fished out your phone, anticipating the amount of messages or calls from Eddie, but you found nothing. Defeated, you sighed and threw it aimlessly on the cushion next to you. You didn't know why you were disappointed, you specifically told him not to contact you. Still, there was a part of you that hoped he would... what, fight for you? He respected your wishes yet it still stung.
You waited until it was an appropriate time and called Robin to fill her in on the details, telling her you would drive back shortly. She gasped when you told her how you found Eddie in his dressing room, but Cherry was the one who spoke up, indicating Robin put the phone on speaker. ''I knew it was a good choice to bring my pepper spray. That girl needs to be sprayed immediately.''
''Wait, who are you talking about?'' you asked, mouth full of buttery toast.
''Madeline, duh,'' she said matter-of-factly.
''I'm lost,'' Robin chimed in.
''Yeah, me too. Do you know her?'' you asked.
''Not personally, but I've read about her. She's a leech, only interested in being relevant.''
You thought about what Eddie said last night. He didn't invite her and she kissed him. Were you wrong about everything? No, if Madeline was only interested in fame, what would her kissing Eddie in private get her?
''It doesn't matter, I asked him not to contact me anymore and he hasn't. So, it's over.''
.•♫•♬•
Eddie was hunched over the table at breakfast, playing around with some pieces of broccoli. He didn't want to interact with anyone and he certainly didn't want anybody seeing him either, he took a good look in the mirror before and it wasn't pretty. His eyes were sunken, red rimmed from lack of sleep and overthinking. Last night was a fucking disaster. After you stormed out of the place, Eddie walked back to his dressing room, where Madeline was still perched on the couch, chatting with his manager now.
Swallowing down all of the word that were fighting to escape, instead he took a deep breath and asked Madeline to leave, threatening her with a restraining order if she ever contacted him again. It seemed to click for her, finally and she scurried out of the room.
''You sent her the tickets?'' he asked, looking straight at his soon to be former manager.
''Yes, Ed. She's pretty, could have done for some good publicity if you hadn't sent her away,'' he barely looked back at him, typing on his phone.
''You're fired.''
Looking up from his phone, he finally seemed to be alert. ''What?''
''I said, you're fired.'' Eddies fists were clenched, nostrils flared as he tried to keep his composure.
''You can't fire me, buddy, we still have a contract.''
''I'll pay you whatever I owe, with interest, just get fucking lost.''
His manager slipped his phone into his pocket and walked over to him. ''You're making a big mistake, Eddie.''
''I'd say it's the best decision I've ever made.''
''You're gonna regret this,'' his manager pointed a finger at him, stabbing it into his chest. From the corner of his eye, the other guys had joined Eddie's side.
''Doubtful,'' one of them said.
There was a tense stand off, before their manager relented and stormed out of the room, shouting something about lawyers.
Eddie sighed and fell onto the couch. He just fired his manager and they still have some shows to play, he needed to figure out what to do. But that could wait, he had more pressing matters, like how to get you back.
Eddie shook last night's memories from his mind and left the breakfast area, returning to his room. He pulled up the number for Julie, his soon to be new manager and gave her a call. Eddie was relieved when she was happy to hear from him, offering to meet up before the show and to discuss anything he needed, pro bono as she said, since she's not working for him technically, yet. Eddie had to hung up with her when there was a knock on his door. He rushed to open the door, already aware who it was.
There he stood, Wayne Munson himself, Eddie's hero. They embraced each other, Eddie breathing in his uncle's scent of cigarettes and straight black coffee. ''I'm so glad you're here.''
''Me too, kid.'' Wayne let him go and gave him a once over. ''Are you alright? You look like shit, to be blunt.''
Eddie smirked, sadly though. ''Not really.''
They sat down on Eddie's bed and he filled his uncle in on everything that had happened yesterday and prior to that too. He needed Wayne's guidance, who listened carefully and never interrupted until Eddie was finished.
''Wow,'' Wayne sighed. ''Have to say, this is an interesting way to meet someone.''
''Yeah, I... I really like this girl. I fucked up, big time,'' Eddie rubbed his hands together, only concentrating on the carpet beneath their feet.
''Don't be too hard on yourself, son. Both of you were hurt, by someone else's actions.''
''I could've stopped it though, before it even happened. I should have just kicked Madeline out as soon as I saw her. I don't- I don't know why I didn't to that.''
''People pleaser,'' Wayne smirked. ''Look, just give if a few days I say. You'll have time to process everything and think about what you really want. You have to evaluate your life, your career and find out where she fits in. I'm sure she's thinking the same thing. She has her own life and aspirations, if she wants to be with you, she'll have to make difficult choices, too.'' Wayne put a hand on Eddie's shoulder, squeezing it. Eddie looked at him and nodded along.
''So what should I do?''
''Well, if you want romantic advice from an old grump like me,'' Wayne chuckled, ''You should tell her how you feel and see what she thinks. If you let this go, you might regret it for the rest of your life. Take it from me...''
Eddie looked at his uncle, eyebrows raised in disbelief. ''You? I had no idea you-''
Wayne waved him off. ''It was ages ago, kid. Don't make the same mistake I did, is what I'm saying.''
Eddie nodded in response, taking everything in. ''Thank you. You're still coming tonight, right?'
''Wouldn't miss it for the world.''
• • • • • •
Things were looking up. After meeting with Julie, things were looking up. Eddie couldn't break his contract or obligations, but Julie did manage to postpone the rest of the shows so he and the band could have three weeks off to recharge. After the second show, Eddie spent the next day catching up with Wayne, showing him the city. He was sad when his uncle had to fly back, but grateful they had rekindled their relationship, Eddie promised to keep in touch and he had been keeping his promise.
Right now though, he was on his way to get coffee, and something else. He was as incognito as he could get, hoodie pulled over his head, glasses perched up his nose. He hadn't spoken to you for a week and it was like his lifeline was draining. He'd gone by the shop once before, a couple of days ago but instead of going in, he walked straight past when he noticed you were at the counter. Today though, he would walk straight in, whatever happened. And he did, walking up to the empty counter, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest.
''She's not here,'' a voice called from his right. Eddie turned to see the same girl he already met, Robin, standing with two empty coffee cups. She didn't look pleased to see him, unlike last time.
''I'm actually here to see you.''
''Oh? Why's that?'' she rounded the counter, putting the cups down and leaning on her hands, staring him right in the eyes.
Eddie felt like he was under a spotlight, fidgeting with his ringed fingers. ''I-I need your help. Please.''
''With what?''
''To get Y/N back.''
Robin scoffed. ''What about your girlfriend?''
''I don't have a girlfriend,'' Eddie defended. ''I'd like one, though.''
That made Robin's cold façade falter and she sighed. ''Fine.''
Eddie recoiled, looking around if he was being pranked. ''Really?''
''Yeah, dumbass.'' Robin rolled her eyes. ''She's sad and it's your fault, but-.''
''I know, I know,'' he rushed out, holding his arms out. ''I ruined everything and I'm trying to fix it. But I need your help.''
''Don't interrupt me,'' she scolded and Eddie mumbled a sorry, looking like a kicked puppy. ''Like I was saying, she's sad and it's your fault, but she misses you, I can tell. I'm only doing this for her, not for you. So what do you need?''
''I'm not sure, exactly. Something that would help me get on her good graces again. What are her favorite flowers, for example?''
''Tulips, white ones. How do you plan on delivering these to her anyway?''
''I was hoping you'll tell me where she lives?'' Eddie pleaded.
Robin bit her lip, thinking about it, then groaned into the empty café. ''If I'm going to reveal her address, you're going to have to go all out. I was planning on giving it to her for Christmas, but this will definitely get you on her good side. She has a record player at home, she's been looking for a vinyl of R.E.M.'s 'Out of Time' album, but she hasn't found it yet. I'm sure someone of your.. occupation can get hands on that in no time.'' She also took a piece of paper and wrote down your address and apartment number.
''Thank you!'' Eddie beamed brighter than the sun, turning to leave. ''Whatever you need - I owe you big time.''
''Free entrance for life, Eddie!'' Robin called from behind him.
.•♫•♬•
Tiredly dragging your feet up the stairs, you hauled two grocery bags behind you, plus a tote bag over your shoulder. After an entire day of walking around, your boots felt heavier than usual, your feet sore and back aching. Reaching the final step, you stopped in your tracks when you saw a figure standing in front of your door, sulking in the darkness of the hallway. You relaxed a bit when you saw the outline of long hair. He noticed you too, standing straight where he was leaning on the concrete wall.
''Hi,'' he said quietly. You took a few steps closer and dropped the bags next to your feet, searching for your keys. Pushing the key in, you unlocked your door and stepped in, flicking the light on.
''Hi,'' you turned to look at him, keeping the door open, your heart swooning at the white tulips he was holding, a long with what seems to be a vinyl record. ''Can you grab the bags?''
Eddie managed to get all the bags into your kitchen without dropping anything.
''Thank you,'' you whispered, leaning against the counter, your hands tied together. ''What's that?''
Eddie looked at the things he was holding and handed the flowers first. ''They're for you.''
You took the flowers from him and inhaled the bouquet. You grabbed a vase and filled it with water, popping the flowers into it.
''I also got you this,'' he held out the vinyl and you saw it was the album you had been wanting for a while. You expected Robin to give it to you for Christmas, actually.
''Eddie, I-. How did you know about this?'' You took the record from him, hugging it to your chest.
''Robin told me,'' he smiled bashfully, rubbing his neck.
''Of course she did. I don't know what to say. Thank you, so much.''
There was a brief awkward pause where Eddie didn't know what to do, neither did you. Should he leave? Should you offer him tea or coffee? You kept staring at the floor and Eddie looked at everywhere but you. When the thick silence was stretched long enough, it seemed to shake Eddie out of his trance, he reached his hand out but quickly lowered it again.
''I'm... I'm really sorry for what happened. You were right to get upset. I should have handled things better, but I fucked up. I never meant to hurt you and I'm so, so sorry. I like you, a lot, and I can't stand the fact this might be over before it even started. You're kind, funny and so beautiful it hurts. I know I've already asked you this once, but I'm asking again - please, give me one last chance.''
You looked at him, really looked at him for the first time. His big, stunningly brown eyes, that held so many emotions, you could only pick up a few - fear, sorrow, maybe hope. Perfect nose with a thin gold hoop through the left nostril, plump lips with the sharpest cupid's bow and possibly the greatest head of hair you'd ever seen. His dark brown mane was framing his face, bangs shielding his eyebrows, the soft waves falling onto his shoulders. Black leather jacket with a red flannel underneath, another crisp white shirt peeking out underneath. Simple black jeans and combat boots, three heavy rings on his left hand, one simple ring on the other.
You'd called him pretty before, but he was so much more in real life. He was soft and inviting, but with an edge to him. You felt a pull towards him, you wanted nothing more than to put the record down and jump into his arms. It was hard to look away from his awaiting eyes, so you turned your back to him, placing the vinyl on your kitchen counter.
''Eddie, I forgive you. I understand it wasn't your fault, but I'm not sure if we would work. Romantically speaking...''
''What? Why would you think that?''
You turned to face him again, your throat constricting when you tried to speak. ''I-I just... You're you and I'm me. We live completely different lives. I'm not interested in a long distance relationship.''
''I get it, I've thought about that too,'' he took a step closer ''but we can make it work. I have two weeks off right now and when we finish the rest of the tour, I'm going to take a long break, months long. Shit, maybe even a couple of years. I want to make this work, if you'd let me. I want to take you out on dates, show you the world, see you on the side of the stage when I'm back on it some day.''
Eddie took his hand and gently placed it on your neck, his thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek when you closed your eyes to the touch. ''I'm scared.''
''You don't have to be scared, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to,'' Eddie whispered, you could feel his face leaning closer to you so you opened your eyes, hypnotized by the brown irises staring back at you. His eyes dipped down to your lips for a second, then came back again.
''I don't want you to go,'' you whispered, gripping the edge of the counter behind your back.
''Yeah? What do you want then?'' His nose brushed yours, lips so close you could already feel the warmth of his skin.
''You.''
Eddie's lips finally brushed yours and everything else faded away. It was just the two of you, in the middle of your kitchen, diving into the unknowns. The kiss was feather light, like he was afraid to have more, fearing you would pull away too soon. But you craved more, so you grabbed the back of his neck and drew him closer, earning a soft hum from him. Eddie's other hand found your waist, circling it with new found confidence and holding you close. His lips massaged yours, poking his tongue out to run it over the seam of your mouth. Granting him access, you let out a tiny moan when he happily licked into your mouth.
He whined when you pulled away too soon. ''About that date you mentioned...''
''Yeah?'' he asked, settling his forehead against yours, stealing one more quick kiss.
''I was planning on staying in tonight, just hanging out. W-would you like to stay? I could make dinner and later we could watch a movie, or something.''
''That sounds perfect.''
.•♫•♬•
Eddie helped you put all the groceries away. He'd shrugged off his leather jacket, hanging it by the front door. You'd agreed to have pasta for dinner and once the noodles were boiling on the stove, he watched you wrap a few early Christmas presents, ones that you pulled out of your tote bag. He realized that being with you like this was the easiest thing ever, you settled into small talk easily, Eddie making his way around your kitchen like it was natural. He imagined this could be his reality and he didn't mind that idea, not one bit. He'd strain the pasta once it was done and tell you about his uncle, you'd finish taping up the last present and tell him about a crazy customer you had at the café. It was simple, but perfect.
You handed him plates from a cabinet and he set the small table by your window for two. You set the lighting right and lit a scented candle in the middle of the table. The meal went by slow, you were doing more talking than eating that by the time you were both done, the last bites were ice cold.
''This was great, thank you,'' Eddie offered.
You simply smiled in return and took his hand, bringing him along to the living room area. Plopping down on the couch, you pulled Eddie next to you and settled in comfortably, laying a blanket over your figures. You put on Netflix and handed him the remote, pulling your knees up. Eddie subtly stretched his arm out over the back of the couch, scrolling through various movie options when he felt you lean into him.
''What do you want to watch?'' he smiled to himself.
''Hmmm...'' you thought about it. ''The Grinch?''
''It's November.''
''So? My holiday season starts November 1st!'' you defended, pouting your lips at him.
Eddie snickered and kissed your forehead. ''Okay, okay. The Grinch it is.''
The movie started and you relaxed into his side. While your eyes were glued to the TV screen, Eddie's were wandering around. He wasn't subtle with his gawking either, memorizing all of the features on your face. Your eyes, nose, slightly parted lips, your elongated neck that was begging to be kissed, your perfect chest moving up and down with your steady breathing. He definitely shouldn't be staring, he felt like a creep but he couldn't look away either. He was brought out of his bubble when you shifted a little bit, placing your hand on his thigh.
Eddie focused his eyes back on the movie, praying it will distract him enough not to grow hard just from your simple touch. However, he realized you might not be so innocent in your act as he first thought. Your hand crept upwards, sometimes squeezing. His breath hitched when your pinky grazed his crotch, causing him to involuntarily buck his hips. Taking the same hand that was around your frame, he turned your face towards him, his big hand enveloping nearly the entire side of your face. Without wasting a second, he kissed you, plunging his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your surprised moan. The kiss was sloppy, urgent, you tasted so good it made him dizzy.
''Tell me you want this as much as I do,'' he mumbled, your mouths still atttached.
''Please,'' you begged, discarding the blanket and flinging your leg over his waist, situating yourself on his warm lap. Eddie's hand came around your middle, helping you grind against his growing thickness. You threw your arms around his neck, kissing him passionately. Eddie slid his hands lower, grabbing two handfuls of your ass, leaving your mouth to focus on your neck. He bit your skin, smoothing the ache with his tongue right after. The thought of him marking you up, so you had to wear turtlenecks to work, drove him wild. He mapped out your neck, proud of the already blossoming pink patches, then dipped lower to lick a stripe from your throat down to the valley between your breasts. You gasped when he yanked down the neckline of your tank top and licked the top of your boob, switching to give the other one the same affection.
Eddie grunted in annoyance when your bra stopped him, looking up at you with questioning eyes. Once you nodded in approval, he pulled down the cups of your balconette bra, almost going cross eyed when your supple breast fell out.
''Fucking perfect, baby,'' he groaned and took one of your nipples into his mouth, rolling his tongue around the bud, sucking it harshly before letting it go with a 'pop'.
''Ed, please'' you yanked on his hair to get his attention.
''What do you need? Tell me, honey.''
''Need you, hurry up.''
Eddie smirked and helped you up, pushing your shirt up this time so he could kiss your stomach, dipping his tongue into your bellybutton. His fingers made quick work of your pants, popping the button and dragging the zipper down, ''Okay?''
''Yes,'' you pulled your top over your head and let it drop to the floor. Sneaking your fingers back into his hair, Eddie's eyes rolled to the back of his skull when you scratched your nails across his head. He helped you out of your pants, then ran his hands along your thighs, spreading your legs more. Wrapping his hands around your thighs, his rings were cool against your heated skin when he pulled you closer to him. He pushed his face into your covered mound and inhaled deeply, letting out a satisfied hum.
''Can I?'' he asked, hooking his fingers into your panties, not yet slipping them down until he had your permission. ''Need to see it, baby. Been dreaming of this pussy for so long.''
''Please,'' you pleaded once again, running your fingers along his jawline. He placed a quick kiss on your palm, then dragged down the last piece of fabric separating him from your pussy, the lace sticking to your core. You stepped out of them and Eddie lifted one of your legs, planting your foot on the armrest of the couch, giving him the perfect view of your wet cunt.
“Oh, it’s dripping, sweetheart. This all for me? Not sure I deserve it.” Eddie took his sweet time, kissing your pubic bone and tonguing between your legs, but avoiding your centre completely.
“Please, Eds, stop torturing me.”
“‘m sorry, babe. Just wanted to savor this. Let me make it up to you.”
He finally poked his tongue out, tasting you for the first time. Your hips bucked into his face when he took a tentative lick through your folds, the tip of his tongue flicking your swollen clit. From the first taste of your nectarine, Eddie was addicted. His enthusiasm only increasing, he lapped at your pussy, dipping his wet muscle into your tight hole, feeling it suck him in immediately. Going back for your clit, he closed his mouth around your bud and sucked harshly.
“Fuck, that’s so good,” your head thrown back, you grinded your hips against his face. You felt his hand sneak up your thigh, his fingers circling your opening before pushing his middle finger in all the way until you felt the cool metal against your flesh.
“So fucking good, you’re doing so good for me. This little cunt is sucking me right in, can barely fit. Think you can take two, baby?” Adding his ring finger, Eddie struggled to make it fit. He wondered how his cock would fit if his fingers had difficulty. Eventually, your walls relented and let him fuck up into you. The divine taste of you still present on his tongue, he worked you open with his digits and dove back in to flick your clit up and down in quick motions. He could tell you were getting close, your moans were getting more high pitched, your breathing erratic and your toes were curled. A couple minutes later, you moaned loudly and released all over his tongue which he eagerly lapped up, not letting a single drop go to waste.
He helped you sit back on his lap, your head resting against his shoulder, puffs of air hitting his neck whilst he was rubbing your back. “You good?”
“Good, great, amazing…” you breathlessly replied.
“Was it better than in your book?”
“I mean it was real, so yeah.”
He let you gather yourself for a moment, just holding you, although the erection he had was becoming unbearable. Eddie felt your lips skim his neck, leaving soft butterfly kisses in your wake. You bit down on his earlobe, running your tongue over it to soothe the small ache. Eddie let his head fall back, looking at you through hooded eyelids as you reached behind you to unclasp your bra, letting it fall on the couch.
“This is unfair. I’m completely naked but you’re still dressed,” you pouted and ran your hands along his chest, popping the buttons of his flannel.
“Better help me out then,” he smirked, kneading your ass as you continued to unbutton his shirt, kissing every new inch of skin you revealed. Soon, his shirt was on the floor and you were working on his belt. Once his pants were open, your hand dipped under his boxers to run a finger over his cock, tracing a vein on the underside. He lifted his hips so you could pull his pants and underwear down enough to free his throbbing cock from it’s cage. It bounced up, against his stomach, leaving a sticky mess in his happy trail. Eddie groaned when you wrapped your hand around him, pulling back his foreskin to reveal his slit, pre cum leaking from the tip, which you used as lube. You started to climb down, but Eddie stopped you.
“Not this time, princess. Tonight’s all about you. You got a condom? I didn’t really prepare for this.”
You got up from his lap and jogged to your kitchen, Eddie watching your ass juggle. You opened your medicine drawer and searched around until you retrieved the foil packet. Eddie took it from you, ripping it open with his teeth and rolling it on, all the while keeping eye contact with you as your eyes were focused on his lap.
“C’mere.” He held his hand out for you. You grabbed it and took your place back on his lap, his cock situated perfectly between your folds. He grabbed the base of his cock and rubbed the tip through your lips, gathering the wetness. He positioned the tip at your entrance and waited.
“Whenever you’re ready,” he breathed.
You grabbed his shoulders and sank down on him, inch by inch until there was no space left between you and you had taken all of him.
“Eddie, oh my God,” you moaned, fingernails pressing into his shoulders, leaving behind crescent moon shapes.
“So tight, Jesus Christ.”
Eddie was already seeing stars, he had to focus all of his remaining energy into not coming right this second. Your warm walls enveloped him, pulsing around his shaft. You rose up and slammed back down again, already accustomed to the stretch.
“You’re so perfect, fuck. Taking me so well,” he praised, hands grabbing your waist, helping you bounce on his dick.
You whimpered. “Keep talking.”
“Oh yeah? You love it when I talk like this, baby? That get you all riled up? Look at you, working my cock like that. Feels so fucking good, doesn’t it?”
You nodded and bounced harder, your rhythm faltering. Eddie slouched down lower on the couch, anchoring his feet to the ground and started fucking into you.
“Fuuuck, good girl. Letting me use you like this, like a fucking fleshlight. You’re just a little cock hungry whore, huh? Are you just a hole for me to use however I please? Your pussy is mine now, say it. Who’s pussy is this?”
“I-it’s yours, Eddie, only yours.”
“Damn right. It is mine, I’ll fuck it whenever I want. Stretch your cunt out so good, you’ll beg me to go easy on you. But you don’t want easy, do you? You want it rough. Fuck.”
“Don’t stop, please, please, please,” one of your hands slipped between your legs, toying with your clit.
Eddie grunted at the sight, wrapping both of his hands around your throat, squeezing your neck enough to make you lightheaded. “Yeah, play with that clit, rub it for me. Can still taste you on my tongue, you want to know what you taste like?”
He pulled you in, smashing his lips against yours, his tongue meeting yours in the middle. The kiss was messy, spit drooling from the side of your mouth. Your fingers sped up, your pussy clenching down on him harder and harder. Eddie felt his own stomach twist up as well.
“You close, baby? I need you to cum, fuck. I’m so fucking close.”
“I’m so- Fuck, oh my God Eddie, I’m coming, I’m coming!” You cried out, tears streaming down your face, the drops falling onto Eddie’s forearm. He was close behind, feeling his balls tighten up in a telltale sign. He groaned into your mouth and jerked his hips a few final times before releasing into the condom.
Both of you breathing like you’d just ran a marathon, Eddie let go of your neck, the red and purple skin left behind almost enough to get him hard again. You fell forward on his chest, resting your head against his shoulder, catching your breath. Eddie thrashed his legs around, shoving his boots and pants off. He stood up, taking you with him. You squealed and wrapped your legs around his waist, his cock slipping out of you.
“Bedroom?”
You pointed him in the right direction and he took careful steps, mindful of the clothes laying around. Once in your bedroom, he gently placed you on the bed, kissing your temple. When you didn’t let go, he chuckled.
“Be right back, promise.” He helped you under the covers and disappeared back into the hallway, looking for a bathroom. When he found it, he discarded the condom and washed his hands, eyeing the couple of lovebites you’d left on him. When he made it back to you, you were already asleep. Eddie crawled next to you, pulling you tightly against his front, settling his hand on your waist, lazily drawing random shapes on your tummy until sleep took him, too.
.•♫•♬•
It was raining again, the patter on the windowsill lulling you from your sleep. You were warm and cozy, limbs tangled with someone else’s. You’d almost forgotten about last night, thinking it was a fidget in your imagination. But Eddie proved to be real when he stirred behind you, his deep sigh hitting the back of your neck, one arm hugging you closer to his body. You hummed, reaching behind you to grasp his neck. Memories of last night came flooding back, reminding you of the delicious ache between your legs.
“Morning beautiful,” a low, raspy voice sounded from behind you, goosebumps spreading across your skin. Christ, you could get used to hearing his morning voice every day.
“I don’t remember the last time I slept this good,” you mumbled.
“You need to sleep with me every day, then,” he said, squeezing your hip.
You snorted. “You wish.”
He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his lips moving against your flesh. “I do.”
You turned to him, his baby cow eyes already staring back at you. You were trying to see any deception in them, but all you saw was adoration and honesty.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you gulped, bottom lip caught between your teeth.
“It means I want you.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“How would that work? I can’t follow you around everywhere you go.”
“I know that and I don’t expect you to, even though it would be cool. What I do know, is this - I’m taking a long break and I want to be with you, every single day. After that too, I’m not going to dump you when I have to go on stage again if that’s what you’re worried about. We’ll figure everything out. So if you’d have me, I promise I will work my ass off every day to prove to you that you’re not making a mistake.”
“Eddie… I don’t know what to say.”
“Say yes,” he begged “Be mine. Would you be my girlfriend?”
You laid your hand on top of this, the one still holding your hip. Your heart was beating so fast, you thought it would explode any second. You had a moment to think about all the roads this relantionship could take you, expecting it to end horribly. But even with the potholes and wonky curves, you saw yourself ending up where you belonged - with him.
“Yes.”
His lips covered your before you even finished that word. You felt him smile into the kiss, he was putting everything he had into it. His tongue grazed the seam of your lips, asking for access which you happily granted. He moaned when your tongue met his, his nose ring brushing your nostril.
His fingers skiddled across your hip to the curve of your ass, squeezing your butt. He broke the kiss too soon for your liking and violently pushed you back on your side. Eddie kissed a line down your spine, then licked a fat stripe back up, ending at the base of your neck. Your whole body shivered in anticipation, core getting slick with excitement. Eddie continued his assault, burying his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in deep.
His cock was pressed against your ass, a smudge of liquid dripping down. The hair on his abdomen tickling your lower back. You whimpered when he gripped one of your breasts, circling his thumb over your areola, then pinching your nipple until it was perked up.
''Eddieee...'' you whined, kicking your legs.
''Need somethin', darling?'' he traced the tip of his nose on the shell of your ear, his palm sliding from your breast all the way down, his thick fingers slipping through your dewy folds. Bringing his fingers back up, he circled your clit with his middle finger, barely adding any pressure, chuckling when you bucked your hips to get more friction.
''Need you so bad, please,'' you mewled, grinding your ass against his crotch, getting a hiss out of him.
''Condom?'' he asked, adjusting his hips, so his cock nestled directly between your legs, swaying his hips back and forth, the head of his cock parting your folds, bumping your clit with every stroke.
''My boyfriends don't need to wear one.''
''Fucking Christ,'' he let out a deep groan, lining himself up with your weeping hole and pushing inside, sliding to the brim in a single thrust. You choked on a moan, his cock was so deep, you could feel him in your throat. He stilled for a moment, letting you adjust, his mushroom tip bruising your cervix.
''Move,'' you cried, gripping his forearm that was resting against your belly, his fingers massaging your flesh.
He pulled back all the way and slammed back in, not bothering to be polite. You still weren't 100% adjusted to his size, but the burn mixed with the way his cock pierced your insides was euphoric. It was embarrassing how close you were already, but you blamed it on the early morning, you were always more sensitive in the early hours of the day.
''Feel so fucking good, baby. You like my bare cock fucking you like this? You gonna let me come inside too? Fill your sweet pussy up, have it leak out of your abused cunt all day, huh?''
You were too far gone to reply, the only sounds in the room your moans and Eddie's groans mixed with the wet slapping of skin against skin. Eddie was a talker though, never shutting up about how good you felt, how perfect you were for him.
''You were made for me, this pussy was carved for my dick. You're mine, only mine. Mine to fuck, mine to use, however I want. God, fuck. You're gonna make me come already. You gonna let me fill you up, baby? Shoot my fat load so deep in your pussy, you're gonna fucking taste it.''
''Y-yeah, please... Come inside me, please. Wanna feel it, Eds.''
''Fuck, I'm coming, baby. Come with me, come on.'' His thrusts were faster, sloppier, he was losing his rhythm. You were so close too, but needed the extra push so you gripped his wrist and pushed his hand lower. He caught on immediately, roughly circling your puffy clit with two fingers. It was enough to send you over the edge, both of you losing yourselves to the pleasure, Eddie spurting his cum inside of you, your mixed juices leaking down your thigh.
When you came down, Eddie pecked your cheek. He went to pull out, but you stopped him. ''Just stay, wanna be like this for a minute.''
''Whatever you want, princess. I'm all yours.''
.•♫•♬•
December 25th. One of your favorite days of the year. The ground was white, more snow falling behind the window, illuminated by the streetlamps outside. You were so full of amazing food, a little tipsy on raspberry punch. Christmas celebrations started yesterday, when you and Eddie flew out to Indiana to spend Christmas Eve with his uncle, Wayne. He was as sweet as he was in the stories Eddie had told you, if not more. There wasn't a moment where you weren't smiling, looking at the two of them bickering over Eddie's high school days.
You flew back this morning, where you spent the entire day preparing for Robin and Cherry to come over. Tomorrow you would go to your parents' house, which Eddie was super nervous about. The evening was spent with good food and drinks, smooth Christmas music coming from a portable speaker, great conversation. When the girls finally left, it was close to midnight. Eddie had asked you to dance, now the two of you were swaying to the music in front of your Christmas tree, decorated with ornaments, fake snow and at the very top, instead of a typical star, with a paperclip, was a polaroid selfie of you and Eddie, taken a week ago in front of the same tree.
''In case I haven't told you yet, you look so beautiful tonight.''
Your arms were linked around his neck, Eddie's arms wrapped around your waist. You followed his lead, heads close together, breathing in each other's air. You were wearing a rich purple dress with black stockings, with simple make up accentuated with a pair of earrings Eddie had gifted you this morning. And yes, they were drop earrings with sliced kiwis at the bottom. Where he had even found them, you had no idea, he refused to tell you. You had given him a pack of guitar picks, with his initials engraved on them.
''First of all, only tonight?'' you teased. ''Second, you've told me about fifty times today, but I'm not tired of hearing it yet.''
''Hmm.. Can I tell you something I haven't, yet? Something I've been wanting to say for a while now.''
Your heart skipped several beats, mouth going as dry as cotton balls. You had a feeling of what he wanted to say. You had been thinking the same thing recently, but you hadn't found the right moment to say it. Today, it had been nagging on your mind specially hard. True to his word, you and Eddie had spent nearly every day together, except for that one day where you had the flu and told him to stay away so he wouldn't get sick either. He survived one day until he came banging on your door, begging you to let him in so he could take care of you. He had basically moved in since that first night you spent together. You had made room in your dresser for his clothes, his toothbrush was next to your in the bathroom, the fridge was filled with his favorite drinks. It was fast, clearly, but you wouldn't have it any other way.
''O-okay,'' you gulped.
''I love you, Y/N.'' he breathed out, like a weight leaving his shoulders, but immediately rushed out, ''You don't have to say it back, I just felt like I was about to burst if I didn't tell you. You're so amazing and perfect and gorgeous, I'm so happy you're mine and I'm so in love with you I honestly might die if you don't feel the same, but like I said, no press-''
You cut his rambling off by grabbing his face in your hands and smashing your lips together, tears running down your face. Eddie secured his arms around you and pulled you so close, your feet were hanging in the air. You pulled away, your lipgloss having transferred to his mouth, his eyes sparkling. ''I love you too, Eddie.''
''Yeah?''
''Yeah, so much.''
You squealed and laughed when he lifted you up and spun you around, your hair flowing. He put you down, kissed the top of your head and held you so tight you were struggling to breathe, but you didn't dare tell him that. You felt safe and truly loved, securely caged in his arms, smiling into his dress shirt while you slow danced the night away.
.•♫•♬•
tags: @hellfirewhore @ceriseheaven @feralgoblinbabe @ethereal27cereal @mystars123 @munsonsuccubus @alizztor @tlclick73 @nojamsonmytoast @b-irock @harringtonshairychest @hellkaisersangel @mcueveryday @other-world-s @santheweird @nightless @hiscrimsonangel @ali-r3n @latenighttalkingwithgrapejuice @tayhar811 @sarawithasword @eddiesluvt @maddieluvseddie @hellfires-harlot @dollalicia @donnavivienne @ashlynnkennedy @dumbblonde1630 @sanzu-holic @dontslayfay @eddieswife16 @bebe07011 @ganjababie @sidthedollface2 @brittanyyydamnit @lezzy-bennet @bibliophilewednesday @qcueef @rogers-sweatbands @christalcake @episcogoth @beep-beep-sherlock @milkymil-k @sweet-villain @dragonfire @lokiofasgard616 @eddiethesexy @imperfect0angel @im-julessssss @starrywhitenight @siriuslysmoking @bibieddiesgf @smelikins @mymindsnothereanymore @alana4610 @bxbyvivi @daisydamed @a1ex-ba1ex
@xashleymariexo @bimbobaggins69 @crazy-forrobertsheehan @sweetsweetjellybean @sherrylyn628 @eddieswifeasf @maximizedrhythms @mostmetaleverrr @gaysludge @seventhlevelofhell @chloe-6123 @ick90 @strawberrysodaslut @blagname1092 @kittykaylat1987
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rogerswifesblog · 1 year
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Another request I'm sorry 😅
Steve Rogers always has the most generic phone background there is until one day he has the reader. His friends go nuts trying to find out who the reader is. Until one day Steve gets injured on a mission and demands that the reader is called before he goes into surgery. He wakes up to his girlfriend/ fiance/ wife (that's up to you) having the team wrapped around her finger already
Sorry it took me so long:( I hope you’ll like it<3
Btw never apologise for sending request or smth I love it
Behind the picture
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: The avengers couldn't figure out who Steve was seeing, the first time they meet you is when Steve’s badly injured.
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Steve Rogers x Reader
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Steve's injured, but mostly fluff
Keep in mind English is not my first language!
Don't forget to like, comment and reblog!
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The avengers were currently on their way to a HYDRA basis. It was quite stressful, so Steve did, what he always did to calm himself down-he looked at the picture of your dog. He wished he could just look at a picture of the two of you, but he couldn't. Not with the team around.
Don't get him wrong, he loved his team. Deeply...but...the avengers could be a lot. Especially for a civilian like you. And especially with Tony. So he wanted to spare you all of this.
That's why he couldn't show you to them. Not even a picture-that's also why his phone background was a picture of your dog. Even Bucky didn't know about you-which he always felt awful about. Normally he'd tell Bucky everything, but he felt it was the right thing to do. His best friend only knew he was currently seeing someone, no more no less.
Steve could tell Natasha was looking at his phone, but he had nothing to hide. Well, he did, but she couldn't see anything on his phone that would really tell her anything about you. Just a cute picture of your dog-and maybe the corner of your lips, gently smiling at the camera.
"So,...you really have a dog, huh?", asked the redhead, slowly inching closer. Steve knew they were all curious-but nobody dared invading his privacy. Not after the last time they did that.
Steve chuckled, slowly putting his phone away. „Yes, I do, why do you ask? I already told you…a few times", he said, slightly raising his eyebrows. He could already tell what Natasha wanted to talk about-so he played dumb. Sighing Natasha punched his shoulder lightly. „Just a dog or also the owner of the dog?", grinning, she wiggled her eyebrow.
It was one of many times where someone of the team tried to ask him about...well, about you. Or, the person he was seeing. "Just a dog, Nat", he said, grabbing his shield. Within a few seconds his demander changed. "We're landing in five. Get ready."
You were currently sitting with your dog, Roger (yeah, it wasn't Steve's idea), on your bed, trying to take a nap. Steve was on a mission-and you hated it. It was the middle of the night. He was supposed to be back a few hours ago-but he didn't text you or come home for the matter. You could tell something was wrong. Even Roger was restless.
Did something happen to-
Your ringtone interrupted your train of thoughts, sitting up you grabbed your phone.
Steve
"Hi! God I was so-" "I'm so sorry, to tell you this, I'm doctor Cho, one of Steve's doctors-" You didn't hear what she was talking about. A piece of you broke right then. Steve was hurt. Otherwise he'd have called you himself. Was he dead? Or dying? You knew how risky his job was, but...it didn't change a thing. You couldn't loose your lover like that.
“-needs surgery, he doesn't want it, not unless you're here", you heard Dr Cho saying. With tears in your eyes you nodded, remembering then that she couldn't see you. "Yes, I...I'll be there in twenty minutes."
You gave Roger a gentle kiss on the head, feeling awful for leaving him behind-but you knew you couldn't take him with you. "I'll be back soon, sweetie." With Steve, you hoped.
It didn't took you long to arrive at the Avengers Tower. Happy, one of Starks Employees brought you to the medical rooms. You could feel your heartbeat racing, your breathing quickend with every second. Happy didn't talk to you much-but you could tell he was being quite on purpose. It's like he knew you needed the silence to calm yourself down.
Entering the room you watched the avengers sit next to Steve's bed-he was in pain. Bruised and bleeding. God. He looked awful. His face was swollen. But he was alive. "Steve", you sobbed, immediately walking closer to his bed. Whoever was in your way stepped aside, not wanting to keep two lovers apart. "You god damn idiot-the doctor said you don't want surgery? You have to-", rambling you grabbed Steve's hand, gently squeezing. He groaned, turning his head your way, but not opening his eyes. It only made more tears stream down your face.
"You...needed you...", he mumbled, squeezing your hand right back. He tried to pull you closer, but couldn't really use any more strength. Understanding his wishes you sat down on the edge of his bed, brushing away hair from his forehead. He was pale. Weak...he looked like a ghost. Another sob wanted to escape your throat, but you held it back. He didn't need any more stress.
"I'm here, baby. I'm right here. I'll always be here", you mumbled into his hair, kissing his forehead. "You need the surgery. We'll talk after", Steve's eyes fluttered, trying to open them, but not succeeding. You've never seen him in such bad shape.
What happened? What the hell happened? He was a super soldier! Normally he could walk off a broken arm. But now? He couldn't open his eyes.
"I might...not make it", his words made you sob, even though you tried to hold it back. He buried his face into your neck, breathing your sweet scent in. The perfume, he bought you for your last birthday. Having you here helped him. Steve felt at peace. With you he could...just stop fighting.
But you didn't want him to stop.
"Steve, please. I'll wait for you-and you'll come back. We still have so much to do-we haven't had our honeymoon", you chuckled wetly, pulling him closer against your breast. You knew he liked to cuddle against your chest-always saying you were soft and like a perfect cushion. Every time he said that, you just laughed and shook your head. God, you've never thought of missing this stupid joke.
He couldn't leave you like that. He had to get better.
Steve exhaled, burying his face against you. "I can't...don't want to be without you...." "Steve, please...", you sobbed, hugging him closer. At this point you didn't even think about the avengers sitting around you, probably listening. It didn't matter. Steve was the only one you were now thinking about. And he needed to go into surgery. "Please, don't leave us", you whispered into his golden hair, grabbing his hand and putting his palm against your flat stomach.
He was quite for a moment. Only a mumble, you couldn't really understand. "Steve, I think I'm-I think I’m pregnant-I wanted to wait-I haven’t made a test yet-but-I’m already three weeks late. You're gonna be a daddy. Steve", you whispered, holding back more tears, cupping his face In your hands and carefully lifting his head. His lips twitched to a small smile, while his eyes flickered one more time. He opened them, but only a bit. "'m a daddy?", you nodded immediately. "So go get that surgery and don't leave us alone, please. We need you", sobbing you pressed your lips to his. Steve could taste your salty tears on your soft lips. He wanted to pull you closer-touch you-but he was to weak. He couldn't feel he was slowly drifting away. Loosing consciousness.
After getting the serum he’d never felt this weak before. It’s like he was back in Brooklyn, only a teenager, beaten till he had to be taken to the hospital-it only happened once and it was the only time he really felt scared to die.
"After surgery...", was the last thing he said, not being able to finish the whole sentence. Someone grabbed you, pulling you away from Steve, while they wheeled him into surgery.
Sobbing you felt your whole world break down-if someone hadn't hugged you, you probably would've fallen to the floor. This couldn't be the last time you saw Steve? Right? It couldn't-the two of you-no-you had so many plans-you wanted- "it's okay...he'll be okay...", you heard someone whisper into your ear. The person hugging you pulled you even closer. You buried your face into his solid chest, sobbing.
Bucky gently rubbed your back. He hadn't met you before-but he once noticed a picture of you on Steve's phone, while he showed him a funny meme-he never ask steve who you were. He kind of knew. Steve once told him he met someone-this someone had to be you. He was glad Steve found love in this new and foreign times.
It took you a few minutes till you calmed down. There were still tears storming down your face, but you weren’t sobbing like before. Bucky sat down with you, while Natasha brought you a glass of water-Tony let JARVIS check your vitals discreetly-just to make sure you were okay.
“I wish we wouldn’t have met like this but-but it’s nice to meet you”, you mumbled after a while, wiping away the tears. Bucky chuckled quietly, squeezing your hand. You could tell he was also holding back tears. “It’s nice to meet you-Y/N, right?”, you nodded. “Yeah-I…I know your names. Steve already told me, and…well, you’re quite often on the news”, chuckling you brushed your hair back, sipping your water.
Nobody said anything for a moment, before Sam cleared his throat. It may be a stressful situation but he was still curious. “So, how…how did you two met?”, a little smile crept into your lips. “It’s pretty embarrassing-for me, at least. I adopted my dog that day-and we went to the park. It was a great day. A really great walk, we played a lot-and I may or may not have thrown a frisbee at Steve, so Roger jumped him and-yeah, pretty embarrassing. I’ve never been good in sports, I guess”, you chuckled, making the rest of the team also laugh. “Frisbees are just Steve’s thing.”
After a few minutes Tony was already telling you about how he suspected Steve was seeing someone- “He once send a picture and I could’ve swear I saw someone in the windows reflection-but he brushed me off when I asked who it was. And then he also had a different background every week-often someone with a dog-“ “yeah, that was me. He didn’t want to have pictures with my face-knowing you’d let Jarvis just find me”, you laughed quietly. Tony thought for a few seconds.
That’s probably really what he would’ve done.
Natasha sat down next to you. You felt yourself getting a bit nervous-Natasha was intimidating. “I can’t believe Steve didn’t say anything-I mean, he’s a really bad liar. It’s incredible how he just kept you a secret-you two are what-married?”
You felt your blood rush to your cheeks, making you blush, while you shook your head. “Well-yes-but no. Not really. We have the rings, but there was no ceremony. Not even my parents know-and none of Steve’s family-which means none of you. We-or more like Steve-didn’t know how and when to tell you about our relationship. He was, and probably still is, scared. I’m just a civilian. When the world finds out…” “you’d be in danger”, Bucky finished.
After two hours another doctor came, telling you about Steve’s condition-apparently the hard part of the surgery was done.
“Steve was shot?”, you gasped. Natasha nodded. “Yeah, three times. Our suits are bulletproof, but they used something different. Some other weapons…but he did it to save me”, a little smile crept over your face when Natasha said that. It didn’t surprise you that Steve wanted to save her. “I’m glad you’re okay”, you whispered.
Another few hours passed while you all talked. The sun was already rising-god you had to feed Roger soon. And he probably had to go on a wa- “what are you thinking about?”, asked Tony, looking up from his phone. Sighing you shook your head slowly. “Roger will wake up soon. I’ve to go back and take care of him-but I really don’t want to leave“, Tony shrugged and tipped something on his phone. “Give me your keys and Happy will feed Rogers-” “Roger-“ “Yeah, whatever”, you laughed quietly, tossing him the keys.
When doctor Cho came back, you could feel your heartbeat race. Would she bring you good news? What if something happened? What if- “He’ll need rest, but everything went smoothly. There were no complications. The serum in his blood helped his body a lot”, she started. It’s the last thing you registered, before letting out a weak sigh. He’d be fine. Steve was alive.
After guiding you to Steve’s room you sat down on the edge of his bed, grabbing his hand. You were incredibly tired-you hadn’t slept all night. Even if you had tried, you probably couldn’t have. Not without knowing how Steve’s health was-but you finally knew. You could rest. Suddenly you felt everything hit you all at once. The stress, tiredness and hours of crying.
“Lay down, I’ll wait here too”, said Bucky, gently pushing you onto the bed, till you laid down next to Steve. It was a tight fit, but you always liked snuggling with him. “Okay, Buck. You’re really nice”, you mumbled, closing your eyes. Within seconds you fell asleep.
Bucky looked at Steve and you for a moment, a big grin on his face. “You really think she threw that frisbee accidentally?”
Natasha laughed, shaking her head. “There no way she failed to see him”, the two ex-assassins laughed.
They hoped you’d spend more time with them from now on-you we’re really nice. And apparently you also had many, many stories about Steve…Natasha definitely wanted to know how Steve managed to break your wardrobe, apparently walking into it.
In his defence, it was really dark.
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That’s it! I really hope you enjoyed it! Let me know<3
Don’t forget to like, comment and reblog!
Feedback?<3
Requests are open.
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zzoguri · 4 months
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here’s much to do with hate, but more with love ➵ lee sangyeon & lee hyunjae
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non-idol!lee sangyeon x reader, non-idol!lee hyunjae x reader
when you land the lead role for your university's upcoming play, you expect your scene partner to be your best friend, lee hyunjae. but when your eyes discover a different lee beside romeo montague's, you're certain that the universe is not on your side.
genre/warnings ➵ enemies to lovers, slight friends to lovers (kind of), afab reader (they/them pronouns), university au, theater au (?), suggestive themes, drinking, pet names (sweetheart), huh yunjin is your bestfriend, i don't remember much from physics so my bad if angular momentum is not taught in college (or probably a basic lesson), kevin moon is the director and kibum from shinee is the teacher advisor, three different scenes and one flashback, p1harmony cravity twice and ive cameo too, theater kids do know how to have fun!, sangyeon macbeth burn, the scottish play is macbeth btw, theater superstitions mentioned!!
word count ➵ 6.1k words
taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @vernyangel @mosviqu
a/n ➵ here's my submission for the secret santa fic exchange of the deoboyznet! i got daisy @daisyvisions <3 i hope you enjoy this, and i hope i got to fulfill your request (and did justice to sangmil) <3 thank you to @vernyangel and @winterchimez for betareading this <3 also thank you to @shegotthewoobies and @sizzlingdino for sharing your theater knowledge <3 much love <3 i'll definitely consider writing a part 2 for this fic if anyone wants it :') for everyone, please don't forget to reblog (even if it's in your tbr) and leave feedback <3
want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist
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To exist is to perform. At every waking moment—every second, every location, every play—is an audience ready to witness an act, regardless of whether they attended the first act or came in the middle of the third. To exist is to perform. No matter what role you signed up for, you’re left to act as your own backstage crew, cast, and director. To exist is to perform. There’s no such thing as intermission for the crowd remains rooted in their seats. To exist is to perform. You’re born an actor; nothing can change that.
There’s an unwritten contract that comes with being an actor; it is to understand your role and scene, and then immerse in what your character is undergoing. Let the curtains draw back and feel. And most of all, never allow the audience or your castmate to disrupt the show.
(It didn’t matter if you were performing for someone or no one. The roles you undertake are made for you, after all; it’s only right to perform, perform, perform.)
(And regardless of the nature of the role—ensemble or lead, it didn’t matter because they held their own value—you knew to perform it as if it were your last show. But you’ll never allow yourself to be a ham; you would rather have someone exclaim the official name of “The Scottish Play” in the theater—scratch that, you would rather hear “good luck” at every opening night.)
For today’s play, you’re left with a monotonous role—a university student forced to listen to the blabbering of a lecturer as they teeter on a tightrope. At any second, you swear you could almost slip and fall into slumber, but the sound of your professor clearing his throat is what has you scrambling back into focus. 
“So, angular momentum.” God, you need to get out of here.
Before you can find yourself falling back into your thoughts, the table vibrates. You look down at your phone to see a text from your best friend.
jennikirin: GIRRRLLL… jennikirin: i just heard that sir key posted the casting list
Your eyebrows shoot up. With hands quick to grab your phone and type out a reply, the voice of your professor turns into elevator music.
y/n: HUHHH isn’t that supposed to be coming out next week??? jennikirin: YEAA but zuha told me that sir key and kevin wanted it up early just so they could start preparing for the production jennikirin: jichang told her btw HUEYIQEYE y/n: IMCRYAINDG!?!@?@ y/n: fuck ME now i have to sit through the rest of this class knowing that the list is out already??? jennikirin: DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED i’m stuck with sir son in stupid econ…  jennikirin: like I DON’T CARE ABOUT YOU GREGORY MANKIW!!!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!! y/n: i’m learning about stupid angular momentum under sir won… y/n: like i’m only here because ITS A GENERAL SUBJECT!!! I’M AN ADVERTISING MAJOR?? jennikirin: nvm sir son is dismissing us early 💗 i’m bolting to that corkboard see ya y/n: FAWK YEWWWW
All you have to do is follow through with your role until the curtains draw close—a simple task that seems impossible to complete. If your knees were to hit the ground and your hands would come together in a prayer position, would the performance be life-changing that the show is cut short? Could you be free from your duty as an actor playing a student?
(And it’s funny because you spent countless hours studying and praying to get into this university; you were in no position to complain.)
“That’s it for today’s class! Please make sure to read up on—”
You were out of the classroom before you could hear your professor’s full announcement. The details of your next assignment don’t matter when your fate is stored in a paper posted on a corkboard.
(Though, you know it is a lie. You did need to pass Mr. Won’s class to get your degree, and you didn’t want to go through Physics a second time.)
The hallway is filled with rumbling students, off to go to their next class or itching to get some food during their break in between. As you made your way through, you could only spit out half-hearted excuses—Sorry! Just passing!—as you bumped shoulders with strangers. Different looks were thrown your way, apologetic and scornful ones to name a few.
Your phone vibrates in your hand, and you look down to see a text message from Yunjin. A sigh leaves you as you type out a reply while walking.
jennikirin: I JUST GOT HERE jennikirin: WRU y/n: OTW WAIR FIR ME jennikirin: BITCHHHH OKAY
Once you’ve made it out of the sea of extras, you can spot the brown corkboard surrounded by a crowd of students, and you can see your ginger-haired friend looking down at her phone. She’s pacing around, struggling to not look at the cast list.
“Huh Yunjin!” Her eyes land on you as you call out her name. You scurry your way to her. “Sorry! The hallways were packed.”
“It’s fine! Now, we need to check the casting list. I was practically dying not looking at it.” She tugs on your arm, maneuvering you both closer to the paper plastered on the corkboard. As she says excuses, you spot familiar faces leaving with different expressions—joy and disappointment to name a few.
You can spot Yoon Keeho and Hwang Intak walking away, sighs of relief leaving them. Shoulders down are what Kang Minhee and Ham Wonjin sported, a teary-eyed Song Hyeongjun trailing behind the two. Faces of those you knew during your time in countless productions, and others you’ve only met during auditions; they’ve read the paper that had their fates.
Every step is a dreadful one as you trudge your way through the crowd. (Or you could say being dragged by your best friend.) But before you can attest, you find yourself facing Yunjin, both of you only one look away from finding out your fates.
“Okay, are we ready?” Be still, your heart.
With one nod, you both look at the piece of paper that holds the names of those participating in the Romeo and Juliet production. As you spot Yunjin’s name beside Rosaline Capulet, your heart leaps at the sight.
“Oh my god, Yunjin, you GOT IT!”
“Y/N, YOU’RE JULIET!” You lock eyes with your best friend, eyebrows raised in confusion at her words. “Girl, look!” She moves your face with one hand and has the other pointing right where your name lands—Y/N as Juliet Capulet. Your hand reaches to your face, palm covering your mouth as you hold back a gasp. Mind jumbled, you didn’t know what to say.
Yunjin pulls you into an embrace, jumping in her place. “WE GOT IN!” Her cheer sounds throughout the hallway, earning stares from those surrounding you two and those passing by.
Your eyes trail down the list, trying to find someone’s name. The sight of your other best friend’s name has you smiling, but you’re pulled out of your utopia when you find it situated beside a character he didn’t audition for—Lee Jaehyun as Count Paris.
“Hyunjae didn’t get Romeo?” The whisper has Yunjin halting her actions.
Her eyes rest back on the casting list. “What? He didn’t get in?”
“No, he did, but he’s playing Paris.” With furrowed eyebrows, your eyes look to who your scene partner is; who is your Romeo Montague? And when you see the word “Lee”, you expect that Sir Key might’ve made a mistake and inputted Hyunjae’s name twice.
That is until you read the word that trails after the first—Lee Sangyeon as Romeo Montague.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
Lighting erupts within you. The air current moves at a speed fast enough to form a tornado, and it just so happens that you’re in the eye of it. You’re face-to-face with a natural disaster, wondering its next course of action—to consume you whole or to leave you be.
Lee fucking Sangyeon; oh how you couldn’t even say his name without your blood boiling. Is there anything even good to say about the cocky motherfucker?
You shared the tragic fate of attending the same high school as Sangyeon. And just like you, he was in the theater club. At first, he was just someone like you—a student with a passion for acting. But the thing about Sangyeon is that he presents himself well, earning gushes from those part of the club, students and teachers alike. It seemed that he was the perfect actor, always landing the leading roles. At one point, you wanted to believe that it was because he was a good actor, but the reality unraveled itself when you saw what was behind the scenes.
Lee Jaehyun, or Hyunjae as he goes, shared the same dreams as Sangyeon. They both wanted to act, ideally landing leading roles. The passion the two shared should’ve fostered friendly rivalry, a way to propel them to reach heights never imagined. But the more Sangyeon received countless opportunities to play the lead role, the more Hyunjae’s determination started to crumble. What makes the whole thing even bleaker is that Sangyeon knew what his rival felt, and made the most out of that opportunity to tear him down.
What started off as genuine words of encouragement had turned into two-faced statements. And it hurt to see your best friend believe he was incapable of becoming an actor. If anything, you could name countless roles that he deserved to play the leading role, and many could agree with you. As your best friend started to crumble, you were driven by the desire to protect him. With every appearance Sangyeon made, your hostility towards him grew, and it didn’t help that he solidified it with only one interaction.
Scratchy; that’s what your sweater feels like against your skin. Perhaps it’s the heat of the hallway that has you wanting to strip your knit sweater off, or the material has just worn off. You tug on the collar, hoping that the discomfort will dissipate. Eyes trained on the corkboard that held the names of productions your club has done throughout the years, you wonder what role could you land for The Scottish Play.
It’s unlike you to audition for a big role, a leading role to be exact, for you found yourself growing comfortable in minor ones and ensemble. Yunjin has never been able to convince you to audition for the big roles, and your other friend, Kim Younghoon, could never find the right words to push you to sign up under a main character. But Hyunjae held some power over you—If you audition for Lady Macbeth, I’ll try out for Macbeth—and you couldn’t find it within yourself to say no, especially when Hyunjae was considering giving up auditioning for leading roles overall. 
You can feel the coolness of the concrete wall against your nape. Hamlet, Three Kingdoms, Sweeney Todd, and more are the productions you’ve hesitated to audition for the lead roles. You close your eyes in an attempt to calm your nerves. One audition wouldn’t kick you out of the club, right? If Ms. Jang learned that you were unfit to be an actor at that moment, you put the blame on Hyunjae.
(But in reality, you knew you would blame yourself. Hyunjae wouldn’t be at fault for what Ms. Jang decides to do with you. Every failure you face is caused by you, and you need to take responsibility for each one.)
Then, the door swings open, and the cold air that the air conditioners of the theater expel hits your skin, causing goosebumps to form. A shudder runs down your spine. Your eyes peel open, and you’re ready to greet the person who exited the theater, about to wish them luck. But when you catch sight of the one person who has done nothing but tear your best friend down, the taste in your mouth is like acid.
His head whips in your direction, catching sight of you seated with the sample script that Ms. Jang provided resting on your lap. His eyebrows shoot up and his eyes trail you from top to bottom. “So, which one?”
The question catches you off guard. Although you didn’t like Sangyeon, you two didn’t really talk for there was no reason to do so in the first place. So, when he does decide to talk to you—like this moment, and it’s not like you two really talked until now—you find yourself surprised at the interactions.
When you tilt your head in confusion, he chuckles with a smug look plastered on his face. “Which of the Three Witches?”
And with just one question, you feel your resolve snap. For him to assume that you were auditioning for one of those roles felt like an insult. It’s not that you didn’t see the value of these roles; you know that the production is nothing without the people to fulfill the minor roles. But to hear such a question from him with his record of humiliating Hyunjae, you cannot help but believe he’s trying to do the same to you.
“I’m auditioning for Lady Macbeth,” you answer, venom laced with your tone. It doesn’t help that shock casts on Sangyeon’s features.
“Oh, I see,” he starts. He clears his throat, an attempt to hide his bewilderment, and shoots you a smile. “Well, I’d like to have you as my scene partner.”
Cocky—that’s all Lee Sangyeon will ever be. His ego has been inflated with all the leading roles he’s landed. You’ve never met anyone filled with pride like his; how could he prance around with confidence that he would get the role he auditioned for every single time?
You roll your eyes as you stand up from your seat, the script now in your hands. “I can’t believe you’re so confident that you’ll be playing Macbeth. Have you ever considered that maybe you won’t play the main role for once?” The glare you shoot at him does nothing to his pride.
“I don’t know, I’m pretty confident about the performance I gave just a few minutes ago.”
It baffles you. Sangyeon continues to prove that he’s never been given a reality check; maybe you should snap some sense into him.
“I’d rather settle for being part of the ensemble—no, having no role than play your scene partner.” If Sangyeon is thrown off by your statement, he does a good job hiding it, just like the supposed perfect actor when it comes to handling ad-libs on stage. He would never understand what it means to be an actor—what makes a production successful—if he didn’t appreciate the minor roles. 
If he had something to say back to you, you don’t give him a window to do so for you have taken your leave. You first came with a desire for the auditions to be over, but now, you come with a desire to prove you’re an actor capable of any role. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought, especially whatever Lee Sangyeon seemed to think about you.
For the first time, you and Hyunjae played the leading roles in a production. Sangyeon was left as an understudy.
Although you were in university, it’s not that you could escape Sangyeon for you two were in theater. Thankfully, the productions you’ve had a chance to work on didn’t always have Sangyeon playing the leading role.
(Though, he did still play a handful. Perhaps he still held some charm over the university crowd.)
But due to the bigger cast and production team, it was usually easy for you to avoid him. You know when to take your leave, and you know to tune him out if you can hear him act (or speak, really). Nothing good ever comes out of interacting with Sangyeon; it’s best to limit your interactions with him for it would preserve your sanity.
But the universe seems to have other plans for you. Face-to-face with his name situated right beside the name in which your character is romantically interested, you cannot help but read his name again, and again, and again.
You wish that this is just a nightmare, that you fell asleep in the middle of Mr. Won’s class, and that you’re paying for the consequences by your consciousness presenting you with the worst outcome. God, you really did mean it when you said you would rather settle for no role than play Sangyeon’s scene partner.
Stupid Sangyeon, Sangyeon, Sangyeon. And as if it were the curse of the Bloody Mary, saying his name three times brings you to your demise.
“Huh, guess you ended up being my scene partner after all.”
You whip your head to where the devil stands, right beside you with arms crossed as his eyes remain on the casting list. His gaze lands on you, and a smug grin rests on his face. “I’m wondering if you’ll talk to Kevin or Sir Key about withdrawing from the production.”
His words make you frown. Before you can retort, he walks away, your eyes burning holes into his back. Yunjin could sense the rage within you and kept her hands on your shoulders in an attempt to calm you down. 
An exasperated sigh leaves you. “I cannot believe that guy.” You look at your best friend who only holds an apologetic look. “Can’t believe I have to deal with his shit even ‘till now.”
“I know.” She bites on the inside of her cheek. Before she could say more, her phone vibrated in her hand. As she reads out the notification, she groans. “Fuck, I need to go. I just remembered I have a project to work on.” She stores her phone away. “Where are you headed?”
“Uhm, I’m gonna wait for Hyunjae,” you say as your shoulders sag down. As you hear your best friend hum, you spot a teasing smile resting on her lips and you roll your eyes. “You’ve got to stop that.”
“Stop what? I’m not saying anything,” Yunjin attempts to defend herself but you both know she’s far from innocent.
You shake your head, a giggle leaving you. “Whatever, go! I’ll see you later.” You’re left staring at the cast list as she takes her leave. Busy hands fiddle with your phone, clicking one of the contacts marked as a favorite. You bring it close to your ear, waiting for him to pick it up.
“Hello?”
“Hyunjae-ah, where are you?”
“I’m on the way to where the cast is posted!” His hurried reply signals that he’s running to where you are. “I just heard from Joshua that it was released early.”
You chuckle. “Yeah, I heard the same from Yunjin. I’ll wait for you.”
“No need to wait too long.” You look behind you to see your best friend standing a few meters away. His hair is tousled up from all the running but still falls back perfectly in place. His hand combs through it, a grin resting on his lips at the sight of you, as he jogs towards you.
“Hey, where’d you come from?”
His arm finds its spot around your shoulders, bringing you close to his side. All while he is transfixed on the castling list, your gaze rests on your best friend. “I just had Ethics—oh my god, YOU GOT JULIET!” He spins to face you and brings you into a hug.
“Yeah,” your arms find their place around his shoulders as his limbs rest on your waist. “But, you know, you got Paris.” When you lean back, you only see a grin on his lips.
“Yeah, but who cares? I mean, my sweetheart got the part she wanted.” There he goes again, using the pet name that started as a quip but still sticks years later. You roll your eyes at his remark, but before you can say any more, he beats you to it. “Don’t think about backing out now.”
A sigh leaves you. “But,” you glance at the name of your (and Hyunjae’s) enemy, “I’ve gone through enough of him in high school. Can’t I live my uni life in peace?” You pout at your best friend, and he chuckles at your behavior, cheeks dusted with hues of red.
“Do you really want to give him the satisfaction of making you quit such a big role?” Would it be that bad to say yes? “C’mon, playing Juliet is a huge deal! You’re destined to play that role! And, I mean, you wouldn’t want to disappoint Sir Key and Kevin…”
God, it did hurt you to agree with Hyunjae. You didn’t want to waste the time and effort Sir Key and Kevin Moon, the teacher adviser and the director, must’ve put into crafting the cast list. But to go through months with Sangyeon, all for a university play? It’s not that you were pursuing a career in theater, or acting for that matter.
But would you from a few years back—a high schooler who treated every theater production as if it were a Broadway one—say the same thing? Is this the role you wanted to take on as an actor, one willing to step down over a nuisance? 
With one sigh, Hyunjae knew what your answer was. He smiles before dragging you away from the piece of paper that seems to only bring downpour. “I don’t know if this will make you feel better but I heard from Changmin that there’ll be a house party. Maybe we can drink the sour mouths away.”
“Drink the what away?” You chuckle at his choice of words. “Hyunjae, I’m so glad you aren’t a scriptwriter.”
He scoffs at your insult, “But you get what I mean.”
“I do not.”
He rolls his eyes, playfully shoving you which causes you to giggle. “Let’s just drink the bitterness away. We could be meeting our other castmates and the prod team, maybe getting to know them more.”
You cannot help but hum as you ponder over your schedule for the rest of the week. “I don’t know. I have this one homework for Mr. Won’s class that I sure as hell don’t know how to answer. I mean, I don’t even know what the instructions are!”
“Ah, just trust me! I’ll help you out with that. Just,” he stops you two in the middle of the hallway. There were barely any students for they scrambled off to their respective classrooms or looked for lunch. He pouts at you, his hands now holding yours as his fingers draw circles on the back of your dorsals. “Go with me, will you?”
It doesn’t take you a moment for you to make up your mind; you’re sure the trade-offs that come from that party won’t save your ass from Physics or Sangyeon.
But when Hyunjae leans in, his lips ghosting your ear, your breath hitches. “I’ll take good care of you, sweetheart.” You’re nothing but a puddle (and a sheep). So once he leans back, you nod. At the sight of your confirmation, he smiles. “Okay, let’s go have lunch.”
You can only hope that Hyunjae (or any of your friends, really) understood annular momentum, or whatever it’s called.
(You truly are a lost cause in Physics, and you’ll be blaming it on Sangyeon. Every inconvenience is caused by him, anyway.)
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For anyone who thinks theater kids couldn’t party, they’re wrong (partially, only). Sure, there were the occasional show tunes that played from Kevin’s playlist, and a certain someone named Ju Haknyeon who belts out of the blue, but no one complained.
With only a few drinks in, you and Hyunjae are buzzed. And although you both agreed on using this party as an opportunity to get to know the other members, you still found yourselves sticking together—shoulders bumped, hands laced, or arms wrapped around each other.
Now, you two along with Yunjin and Younghoon were hanging out in the kitchen, not away from where the crowd was but quiet enough to have your own conversations.
“You know, I finally got to talk to Jihyo,” Yunjin says before taking a sip from her drink.
Younghoon tilts his head. “Park Jihyo? The one playing Lady Capulet?” A hum of confirmation leaves her as she continues to drink. “Did you see her audition for The Baker’s Wife for Into The Woods?”
Yunjin nods, letting the rim of her cup leave her lips and smacking Younghoon’s arm repeatedly. “I was able to sit in for the auditions because I signed up for prod team instead. Girl, I can’t believe she didn’t get the part.”
“Yeah, didn’t Rei get the part instead?” Hyunjae asks to which Younghoon nods.
“Didn’t she audition for Little Red Riding Hood?”
Yunjin shrugs at your question. “I’m not sure, but I do see her playing that role versus the wife.” She sets her cup on the kitchen counter behind her. “Don’t get me wrong, though. They’re both outstanding actors but I would’ve changed the casting. Some of them would’ve played different roles that suited them vocally and acting-wise.”
“Well,” you sigh. “You know that some directors are just batshit blind.” Hyunjae cannot help but elbow you, earning a whine from you as he chuckles. “I’m serious, though! Like, look at Hyunjae! He’s the perfect example.”
“Ouch. Thanks for reminding me of my tragic history.”
You roll your eyes at Hyunjae’s words, the playful tone evident in his words. “I’m just saying, some directors don’t know what they’re doing.”
In no way did you have anything against Kevin. You’re certain that he knew what he was doing; it didn’t sit right that Hyunjae lost a huge role to the same prick who couldn’t get off his high horse. But there is no point in contesting because your best friend wouldn’t allow you. All that mattered to him was that you got the role.
“Yes, but I trust Kevin. Honestly, I’m just glad I still landed a role,” Hyunjae shrugs as he sips.
Younghoon hums along. “Exactly! I heard Hyeongjun didn’t even make it to ensemble.”
A groan rips out of your throat, knowing that the two made a good point. “Yeah, I trust him, too. I just,” you shake your head at the thought of your enemy. “I’m just sick of Sangyeon.”
At the mention of the devil’s name, you feel an arm wrap around your shoulders, your shoulder hitting against something firm. And when your eyes drift to the stranger, you’re met with the bane of your existence.
“Talking about me, sweetheart?”
To hear Sangyeon use that pet name had your stomach churning. You plant your hand against his chest in an attempt to push him away, but you feel his pecs through the white, cotton material, and you quickly retract it. Instead, you shrug his arm off.
“What are you doing here?”
His gaze rests on the boy beside you, shooting him a smile. “Shouldn’t we use this time to build our chemistry?” To others, Sangyeon may have genuine enthusiasm to get to know his scene partner, but you and Hyunjae knew that his grin held nothing but arrogance.
You move closer to Hyunjae and his hand finds its spot on your waist. Sangyeon’s eyes flicker to your best friend’s hand but he still holds the same smile.
“Sangyeon, it’s just acting. I can easily fake chemistry,” you shake your head, trying to scoot even further towards Hyunjae. There’s barely any space between you two. “Unless your supposed great ass can’t fake it. Did all those years spent in theater not teach you anything?”
There’s no way to fake chemistry; everyone knows that, from actors to audiences. But when you’re face-to-face with Sangyeon, you would take any opportunity to get back at him for what he’s done—not only to Hyunjae but to you, as well.
Despite your words, Sangyeon’s expression never wavers. Stoic Sangyeon—he always knew how to get on your nerves. “Isn’t the point of this party to get to know each other?” You roll your eyes, looking away to give your eyes a break from the nuisance.
But when you feel his breath fanning against your left cheek, you’re afraid to say anything. The distance between you two right in front of your friends makes it feel like it’s forbidden, especially when Hyunjae has his arm wrapped around you.
“Especially with our kissing scenes.”
A chill runs down your spine. You know what he’s doing—embarrassing you in front of your high school friends just to rile you up, and rubbing it into Hyunjae that he got the lead role once more. Whatever place Sangyeon first held in your life didn’t matter anymore; he’s dug himself deeper into the pits of hell that you never knew of until this moment.
You want to push Sangyeon off and drag Hyunjae out of the house, alone together and far away from him, but a booming voice breaks the tension.
“Wow! It’s nice to see our Romeo and Juliet getting to know each other,” Kevin comes into the kitchen with a grin and gains everyone’s attention.
Under the gaze of your director, you don’t think twice about what you do. “Yeah!” Your arm quickly links with Sangyeon’s, and you notice Sangyeon freezes up. It’s out of character for you to do such; you can only imagine the expressions of your friends. “Just old friends catching up, right?” When you look at Sangyeon, you notice a flicker of confusion in his eyes, but your forced smile is enough for him to get the message.
“Yeah,” he smiles at Kevin. “I’m just glad that my Juliet is someone I know.” My Juliet? Oh, you’re going to be sick. 
Kevin is amused with the newfound information. “I didn’t know you two were friends! I never see you two interacting.”
Perhaps your animosity towards Sangyeon is obvious but you weren’t going to allow the feud to get in the way of the role of a lifetime—Kevin can never know about the water that has gotten stained with red.
“Oh, we all went to the same high school.”
“Same theater club, too,” Sangyeon chimes in.
Kevin looks at everyone with amazement. “Oh, that’s so cool! From the same high school to the same university. I’m sure you’re all happy to see each other in the theater scene again.” Everyone but one, really.
“I’m looking forward to seeing everyone work in the production,” his eyes rested on you and Sangyeon once more. “Especially the chemistry between you two.”
When Kevin takes his leave, you all bid him farewell. And once he was an earshot away, you shrugged Sangyeon off. “See? I can fake chemistry.” Your glare finally causes a small reaction from him—the startled expression on his face makes you reign victorious. “Clearly, you need to work on that.”
If Sangyeon wants to retort, you don’t allow him to do so as you leave the kitchen with Hyunjae’s hand in yours.
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A few hours have passed since Sangyeon decided to come and dampen Hyunjae’s and your moods. Thankfully, you haven’t seen him since but it could be because you were too drunk to care, or maybe you were too distracted by the boy whose lap you sit on.
“Hey, why don’t we get out of here?” Your best friend’s lips graze your ear. His hands hold onto your hip, his thumbs drawing patterns on the exposed skin that’s starting to peek. You giggle as you shake your head, earning a chuckle from him. “Why not?”
His whines have you dizzy (or it’s probably the effects of the alcohol), but you do your best to answer. “Hyunjae, we’re supposed to be getting to know our castmates better. Isn’t that why you asked me to go with you?” As you looked at everyone in the living room, you know for sure there was no chance to talk to them anymore for they were too intoxicated to remember tonight’s events.
When he presses his lips to your jawline, you cannot help but close your eyes at the sensation. “Yeah, but we aren’t even talking to anyone. Why don’t we just go back to your place and just, I don’t know, make out?” He whispers the last words as if it were taboo.
This is what you and Hyunjae were—friends who couldn’t help but enter territories that blur the line between platonic and romantic. Since you two first entered university, you and Hyunjae couldn’t seem to keep your hands to themselves, always finding their places on each other. It started in such a blur—at a party just like this, both intoxicated—but both of you couldn’t help but keep it going. You still limited your relationship to occasional make-out sessions and snuggling, but you never went past such stages with him. The two of you didn’t mind the unclear boundaries, anyway.
“I don’t know,” you finally look at your best friend. His eyes seem to glimmer, and the heat rushes to your cheeks. “I haven’t gotten to talk to Daniel.”
His eyebrows shoot up in amusement. “Kang Daniel? The one playing Lord Capulet?” As you hum, he chuckles. “I can’t believe you’re thinking of another man while you’re on my lap, sweetheart.” There he goes again, using that pet name.
“What do you mean? I just want to get to know my castmates better.” The teasing tone is evident. You crave the attention—the possession—Hyunjae seems to have for you.
And when his nose brushes against yours, all thoughts are knocked out of you. “Sweetheart, you don’t need to know anyone else, not even their names. You already have me.”
For a moment, you almost think this is it—the two of you will enter domains never traversed and there will be no way to go back from it, but you don’t mind, not with him, anyway.
His eyes flicker to your lips, and you hold your breath. “Don’t do that,” he chuckles. “You need to catch your breath before I take it away.”
Before he can do anything, you feel the couch move as someone takes a seat beside him. You’re ready to put some distance between the two of you, but when your eyes land on the stranger, you realize that the universe is not by your side or Hyunjae’s.
Hyunjae scoffs and his hand cradles your face, an attempt to get your attention back, but your blood boils over the sight of the same guy who always ruins everything.
“I didn’t know Juliet gets so touchy with Paris.” Sangyeon’s comment has you rolling your eyes. Clearly, you’re too distracted by him, and Hyunjae can’t do anything but give up. Instead, your best friend just settles on holding you close to him while your gaze remains on the devil.
“What’s with you? We don’t have to talk to each other unless it’s for rehearsals.” A frustrated sigh leaves you. “Don’t you know that all we have to do is act?”
When all you’re met with is the same cocky smile he flashed Hyunjae back at the kitchen, you shake your head. You’re about to glance at your best friend, prepared to tell him that you two should leave and retreat to your place.
That is until you feel someone’s fingers hold onto your chin, redirecting your gaze to Sangyeon. Now, you’re face-to-face with Sangyeon, the distance between you two is even smaller in comparison to when you were in the kitchen. 
The air is knocked out of your lungs, your eyes looking right at Sangyeon’s. Whatever you looked like had him smirking—you were defenseless against him for once.
“Can’t handle it?” The question is meant to provoke you, have your blood boil so that you scream profanities at him. You’re sure he’s pertaining to all the little stunts he’s been doing; teasing you to get a reaction from you, acting like you two are friends, and making comments about your acting experience.
But for a second, you almost think he’s talking about himself—could you handle him not only on the show dates but also be surrounded by him for the upcoming two months?
And once more, your brain turns into mush. The lights become streaks of different colors, and they do their job of making Sangyeon look different—still the same cocky motherfucker, but now, you want a taste.
Your mouth goes dry and you’re scared to exhale, but Sangyeon only smiles before letting his hand leave your chin. It’s clear he’s happy by your soundless reaction. When he stands up from the couch, he glances at Hyunjae, and his smile turns almost sinister.
You would’ve said something like you always do, but you’re unable to form a coherent sentence. You’re intoxicated; the alcohol’s still in your system, but Sangyeon’s gaze shows that the drinks you’ve had are nothing compared to him.
With that, he takes his leave. Whatever moment you and Hyunjae shared is now lost—all thanks to Sangyeon, once again.
if you enjoyed reading this, please do reblog with feedback!
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notsoattractivearenti · 3 months
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My Player of The Month (Christian Pulisic x Reader)
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WC: 900+
Warning/Tags: fluff
A/N: hellooooo i'm back for a bit!!! pls consider this as a way to say sorry i haven't finished my holiday fics lol. i had a lot of free time at work today and before i knew it i'd written a fic on the paper – full page front and half on the back! btw hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 apologies for any errors since it's not proofread! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍 (Y/F/N = Your Full Name)
Christian was just announced as December's Serie A Player of The Month, and after the  home match versus AS Roma, he was pulled to the side of the pitch for a post-match interview. The reporter who interviewed him started with congratulating him for the award then asked him a few questions. One of the questions was what inspired him to do very well on the pitch, especially last month – since he got the POTM title – and before he revealed his inspiration, he looked at Y/N, who was standing a little further on the side, and bit his lip for a short while before his lips formed a wide grin he thought was unnoticeable.
“Umm… My life partner, Y/N. They really motivated me and will always do in the best ways they can and so, whenever I do well on the pitch, they will always get all the credits.” Christian proudly answered.
“I’m better as a player on the pitch and a person off the pitch because of them.” He added without letting Y/N leave his sight.
Y/N heard what Christian said and immediately blushed, then shyly waved their hand off their face trying to deny his ‘claim’. Christian noticed them and giggled.
“Look at them,” as he shamelessly pointed at embarrassed Y/N, “they’re trying to deny it but they know I said nothing but facts!” He laughed. “They get me going, always.”
The reporter let out an “Awww!” so loudly because he was loving the admiration Christian has towards Y/N – not only that, the genuine supportiveness between Y/N and Christian felt like one of a kind, like the world truly revolves around them.
“It feels like it’s Christian Pulisic and Y/F/N’s world and we’re all just living in it!” The reporter laughed.
He then offered to bring Y/N in to join the interview. “Would you bring them here to talk with us?” 
Usually, Y/N and Christian don’t really like to show their relationship off and try to do less PDA (public display of affection) just because they both prefer to keep things between themselves. But this time, Christian decided to show Y/N to the world, so he agreed to bring them in and called Y/N by whistling at them, then signaled Y/N to come join the interview with his hands. Y/N refused at first, so Christian excused himself and came towards them to pick them up himself.
“Come on baby, don’t need to be shy.” He gently whispered while stroking Y/N's shoulder to calm and convince them.
Y/N was nervous because they were not used to being in front of a camera, but at the time, suddenly Y/N felt a change of heart and could no longer refuse Christian.
“Uh… Alright, lead the way…” Y/N reluctantly agreed.
Christian grabbed Y/N’s hand and took them back to the interview spot.
Once Y/N got there and stood in front of the camera, the reporter excitedly greeted them. They weren’t comfortable at first, but with one of Christian’s hands holding theirs and the other hand gently stroking their upper arm, they felt more at ease.
“So, Y/N, how do you feel with Christian winning December’s Player of the Month and credited you as his biggest inspiration?” The reporter asked Y/N.
“Well, I wouldn’t take the credit because I know this guy has worked his butt off the entire time since he joined the club,” they stated, “so all I can say is that with his own hard work and determination that I have the privilege to witness, he’s purely earned the ‘Player of the Month’ title on his own.”
This time, Christian was the one who was blushing like crazy – he was utterly unaware and completely speechless!
“How proud can you say you are of him?” The reporter threw another question at Y/N.
“Oh, proud is an understatement!” Y/N exclaimed.
“I think at this point he is sick of hearing how proud I am of him.” Y/N laughed as they playfully pinched Christian’s cheek .
“But I will never get tired of saying it and will always mean every word.” Y/N continued as they gazed into his eyes.
Everyone who was watching could tell how swoon Christian was – his face couldn’t hide anything at this point.
“See? I do have the best partner in life.” Christian added a little comment as he kissed Y/N’s forehead.
“Oh I can feel my heart melting!” The reporter commented before he closed the interview. “Congratulations once again, Christian, and have a wonderful time celebrating you two!” 
“Thanks for having us!” Christian said while he shook the reporter’s hand before leaving the pitch with you.
As you both walked out the pitch, he whispered at you, “What an answer you had, baby…”
“I know right!? And I don’t even need any media training!” Y/N replied as they jokingly stuck their tongue out at Christian.
“Yeah okay, no need to brag…” Christian shook his head while his hand caressed the top of Y/N’s head.
“By the way, I’ll never get tired of hearing how much you’re proud of me.” He added.
“I know,” Y/N nodded, “because to me, you will always be my player of the month.”
Christian smiled, then leaned in to give a quick yet loving kiss on Y/N’s lips.
taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @brasiliangp @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover
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herotome · 4 months
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Devlog #125
Hi-ho, Wudge here! Gosh! I missed last week's update.
Happy holidays from Herotome!!
I haven't drawn anything this year-- oh but hmm, I could do a quick edit, here -
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Tadah! For anyone who hasn't already seen it, we got those 50 reblogs to make Warden shirtless! A pure version without the christmas lights went up yesterday, just scroll down my blog a bit or check out the #ro: warden hashtag.
I'm pleased with how much mileage I'm already getting from this picture, ha.
Anyway.
Seems like I'm gonna be focused on writing new scenes and drawing expressions for a while. They're some of the more tedious tasks for me, so I'll certainly be looking for every opportunity to do other things on the side - like coding.
Today I've decided that the LI sprites should have their eyebrows on a separate layer from the rest of their face, to offer me the greatest amount of variety in creating new expressions - and I've come up with a naming system for it, too!
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I'm looking forward to implementing this. Eyebrow shapes have much, much less variety compared to mouth shapes, so I might even finish drawing every possible eyebrow for every LI sometime soon. I've already gotten a strong start with Warden and Mia's eyebrows.
Speaking of, I did turn in more expressions over on Ko-Fi!
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Tadah!! Thank you again to everyone who has donated so far!
I'm realizing that in the set dedicated to Dia, Warden and Mia have the same mouth shape on the upper right side... A fascinating subconscious decision on my part.
Outside of art, I did write... once. Er, it went pretty okay. I'm usually the biggest hater of my first drafts.
I think my goal is gonna be to show off the abilities of all the characters as equally as I can; Warden and Jade have had their time to shine (during the job fair and flying MC home, respectively), and I think MC, Griffin, and Mia are gonna be queued up next.
I'll put the rest under a cut for potential spoilers and further rambling - as always, if you don't see the cut, make sure to check out my blog directly!
I have a good idea of what I wanna do with Griffin (it may or may not involve obliterating your rent debt, and I may or may not have written about that in the first-draft-I-don't-hate).
I've been thinking that this scene would involve a change of clothes btw, and did some fashion concepts for Griffin that I also don't hate;
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I'm not super sure what I'm gonna do for Mia's eventual ~special show-off scene~, but I'm sure it will come to me.
For MC, I want to show off her relationship with the city, and showcase how qualified she is for the job in a low-key way. I recently discussed with a friend how Men in Black is a huge source of inspiration for me... Y'all know the scene where Will Smith has his interview and did things differently from all the other candidates?? I kinda wanna capture that vibe...!
And ah... I think that's about it, Herotome-wise.
Wudge-wise, honesty hour - I've had ssssome mild health concerns this year.
I don't want to go into detail; I want to say it's been like... nothing life threatening, thankfully, but a lot of small physical inconveniences that pile up and make it harder to concentrate.
I did rest a lot last week so no worries. <3 It's just that parts of my body have been weird and annoying, and I think it's helpful to acknowledge that the flesh prison can be a weird and annoying place. But I value it! And I'm doing my best to take care of it. Health comes first, etc, etc.
With this new year, I hope you guys take care of yourselves as best as you can, too. The person who's most qualified to take care of you is you!!!
Stay safe and keep warm,
Wudge.
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vintagemulti · 2 years
Text
rainfall (part four)
parings: bradley “rooster” bradshaw x pilot!reader
desc: this was the mission someone wasn’t coming back from; you were sure of it. you just hoped to god it wasn’t the man you loved.
warnings: swearing, angst, alcohol, sad bradley bc that is a warning itself, two oblivious idiots it’s painful, self-loathing/mental health struggles
a/n: ellie going back to her roots and doing a filler chapter for chapter four😵‍💫 i only plan on this being like 6/7 parts btw, this won’t be a long as my other series (which u should 100% read if you’re into moonknight) but i’ll see how ur goes. disclaimer that i know nothing about the navy or planes. also reblogs to wayyyyy more than likes so…
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if you didn’t understand the rules of american football before, it was no exaggeration to say that you were completely lost now. what could you say? you were never into sports as a child.
all you managed to gather was this - bradley was on your team, pass to him. don’t let someone take the ball and if someone has the ball; take it from them.
both of those things, at once. god, this was brutal.
it was too hot, too muggy - even though you were only wearing shorts and a sports bra, you still felt like you needed to strip and dive into an ice cold pool. maverick was crazy for making you do this in this heat; did he want you all to get heatstroke?
“are we ready to play?” he yelled from the opposite team’s side, whistle hanging from his lips.
“ready… go!”
and the game began - the boys instantly crashing int each other, because apparently none of them were taught that it’s just a game and that no, it’s not actually that deep.
but you wouldn’t try to tell them that, not now, anyways.
“rainfall, here!” fanboy called, throwing the ball straight to you.
catching it, you froze. who did you throw it to again? oh, yeah, bradley.
“rooster,” you called, aiming at him and throwing.
pheonix laughed from beside you, her memory of your god awful football skills serving her well. really - there was a million other sports you could play, but american football really, truly, was not one.
payback came into your field of view, charging at you full force. it took you a whole second to decide that no, it was not worth trying to defend it, and you should just get out of the goddamn way.
you stood back for a moment - watching everyone around you smiling and completely immersed in the game, even maverick was playing; his duties surrounding the mission completely slipping his mind.
and it was in that exact moment that you felt completely, utterly, wholly useless.
it didn’t happen a lot - the feeling you had. sure, you’d struggled with depression in your teenage years, but it was something you’d gotten help for - you were better.
but in a job like this, where you were so used to having control over everything, the moments where you felt useless and unwanted hit harder than ever.
so you did what your therapist had told you to do all those years ago - walk away. you walked away from the group, none of them even noticing your absence.
well, that’s what you thought.
bradley watched you leave, not even taking a look back at your teammates, his face falling with every step you took. he knew about your mental health struggles, and he couldn’t help but feel guilty - had he cause this?
his actions, everything that happened last night; was this is fault?
he knew that it would take forever to explain things to you, even longer for you to forgive him. but fuck - in that moment, as you got further and further away from the group, bradley wished that he hadn’t done anything last night.
the ball was thrown to him, but he didn’t care. you were his priority; you’d always been his priority, always would be. nothing could ever change that.
“rooster!” payback called, hands up in confusion as bradley completely missed the ball.
picking it up from where it had fallen beside him, bradley gave it a half-assed toss, not even checking his aim; he didn’t care where it landed.
maverick had stopped to look at him now, already half knowing what had changed bradley’s mood so quickly. the younger boy was stood completely still, eyes fixed on where you had been only a few minutes before.
“bradley,” maverick called to him, making him turn. “just go to her.”
it was like he had been waiting for someone to tell him, just needing those four words to be set into action, letting him move.
and so bradley turned back around, setting off in your footsteps. a walk turned into a jog, his eyes scanning all over for you, the only sign being your footsteps left on the sand.
-
it was colder inside. the short walk from the beach to the hard deck had cooled you down, just a little. but you couldn’t help the burning feeling in your gut, travelling up through your throat and reaching your eyes.
you stared into your own eyes, watching them get redder and clouding over with tears, not even trying to stop them before they fell, only adding to the mascara streaks down your face.
god, why were you like this? why did you have to be so goddamn sensitive about everything? it wasn’t like bradley cared - he was perfectly happy with carrie, or whatever the hell her name was.
you let yourself fall against the bathroom wall, slowly losing sight of yourself in the mirror as you slid down.
it took everything you had in you not to claw at your own skin, peel the flesh off until you were nothing but a puddle of blood and bones on the floor. but then again - what would that solve?
after spending most of your teenage years going through phases like this, you knew the feeling would pass in a day or so. but in that moment, if felt like it would last forever. the guilt of fucking someone else and secretly wishing it was bradley; bradley, the man who would never love you how you loved him.
bradley, the man who - unknown to you - had just walked into the hard deck.
letting your head hit against the wall, you closed your eyes. this part was the worst - the longing, the knowing that if bradley was there he would be able to fix everything. if only he looked at you the way you looked at him.
if only he didn’t want other girls; didn’t look at their asses when they walked past and for once, just once stared at you like that.
the funny thing was - he did. he constantly stared at you. when you weren’t looking.
“did y/n come in here?” bradley asked, looking around the bar for you but only seeing one, sad looking, glass sitting on the bar.
“she’s in the bathroom,” penny smiled over a crate of beer. “i thought you’d come looking.”
luckily for you, you hadn’t heard them speaking, if you had - what would you have done anyway? would you have wipes your tears, stood up and ran out the door? or would you have stayed exactly where you were, that selfish part inside you glad that bradley had finally come to save you?
speaking of which; he approached the door, getting as close to is as possible without pressing his ear against it, listening for any sign of you behind the door. a sign, which came in the form of a small, hitched breath; something that came out as more of a gasp.
“y/n?” he almost whispered, knuckles tapping against the door.
you froze. no - it couldn’t be, could it? had he really come running after you? fuck. fuck - no, it couldn’t be.
“y/n, you in there?” bradley repeated, your suspicions being completely confirmed - it was him.
“i’ll-” you started, voice betraying you with a crack. “i’ll just be a second.”
but bradley knew you far better than that.
“let me in, sugar,” the pet name had you choking back a sob, biting into your hand to stop the noise coming out. “please.”
it took you a moment to decide whether you’d let him in or not. a full moment - but the selfish side of you won. the little voice in the back of your head that sounded a little bit like pheonix; mumbling how you’d always had a chance with bradley.
the lock clicked, and bradley slowly turned the handle, not quite knowing what to expect on the other side.
what he did see, though, almost spilt his heart down the middle.
you were stood a few steps away, eyes, red and puffy, fixed firmly on the floor, you head tilted down - in a half-assed attempt to hide the mascara trails that ran down your cheeks. the way you were standing, like an insecure little girl, arms folded over your chest, hugging yourself.
any anger you thought bradley was holding towards you completely faded away.
“oh, sugar,” he stepped forward, almost scooping you into his arms. “what? what is it, darlin’?”
you felt so completely enveloped in him, it was completely blissful. his scent; the smell of beach water mixed with a spray of his cologne, his feel, everything - he had you completely covered in him.
“i can’t-” words failed you. “not here- i can’t.”
“alright,” bradley hummed, you could feel the vibration of his voice in his chest. “alright, sweets, i’ll take you home.”
-
bradley’s house was exactly the same as the last time you were there. even down to the jackets hanging on the back of the front door, everything was the same. after all - it had only been, what? a six months, since you’d been here? in his house?
he led you to his couch, sitting you down so gently you half thought he expected you to shatter.
but he didn’t - not really. you’d been friends with bradley long enough for him to know exactly what to do in this situation, how to handle you at your most vulnerable.
“alright, sugar, do you wanna talk to me?” bradley asked, sitting down next to you, hand wrapping around your shoulders.
“i just-” you took a breath. you just what? how in the hell were you meant to be honest with him and keep your oldest secret? “it’s nothing, really.”
maybe saying nothing at all would do the trick.
“it’s clearly not nothing,” his tone was so soft; like his voice was laced with bubble wrap to make sure he didn’t come across the wrong way. “y/n, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t-”
“i slept with hangman.”
the words came out quicker than you could have stopped them, tumbling out of your mouth and leaving you no room to even try to catch them.
“i know.”
“what?” you looked at him. “how?”
“i saw you,” bradley swallowed like the words were bitter on his tongue. “when i was driving cassie home.”
cassie - you’d almost forgot her name. but it still stung to hear him say it; say it like she was someone to him.
“oh, right.” you couldn’t hide the bitter tone.
“why do you feel bad for that, sugar? did he- did hangman do something? did he take advantage of you? i swear to god - i’ll kill him if-”
“no,” you almost laughed, placing a hand on his chest. “no, bradley, he didn’t. i just- i feel bad because… it wasn’t him i wanted to sleep with.”
bradley furrowed his eyebrows. “what do you mean?”
now you were fucked. you’d said too much - how did you get out of this hole you’d dug for yourself? “it doesn’t matter, really, i just feel like i used him, you know?”
“who would you rather be having sex with?”
the question took you completely by surprise. you’d spoke about sex with bradley before, it wasn’t a topic you’d ever shied away from - but how in the hell did you dodge this question?
“i-” your mind went blank. “i didn’t mean it like that, i mean- i was kinda mad, you know? i don’t like fucking like that, like a stress reliever. i dunno, it makes me feel like i’m using them.”
“why were you mad?”
you couldn’t lie this time. “‘cause you treated me like shit all last night.”
bradley hung his head, nodding. “i’m sorry. y/n, i mean that. i’d had one too many to drink and i was in a bad mood, i- i shouldn’t have taken it out on you. i really am sorry.”
smiling, you relaxed slightly. communication was always important to you - and this was one friendship you refused to lose after one fight.
“bradley?” he looked back up at you. “why didn’t you tell me about cassie?”
“well,” he laughed lightly. “i didn’t think it was that important, you know? i doubt you’d really care, honestly.”
“what?” you looked at him, slightly shocked. “bradley, of course i care! i’m your best friend, i’m like- the person who would care about this stuff the most.”
he looked at you for a moment. “y/n- who do you think cassie is to me?“
“she’s-” you furrowed your eyebrows. “she’s your girlfriend, right? or something close?”
“oh my god,” bradley laughed. “oh my god.”
you stared at him, totally confused. it felt like some inside joke you weren’t in on.
“y/n,” he smirked. “she’s my cousin.”
it was hilarious. absolutely fucking laughable. god - it was divine comedy at its peak. your mouth fell into an ‘O’ shape, slowly nodding. bradley’s giggles sounded from beside you, clearly he was finding this funny.
you were completely relieved. totally, selfishly, one hundred percent relieved. so you laughed too. laughed at yourself; how you’d gotten so upset over something you had no idea about.
whether a second or five minutes passed, you weren’t sure. the sound of bradley’s laugh, so completely drowned in happiness, it was music to your ears. a drug you were so totally addicted to, you’d cut off your own leg if it meant you could hear his boyish giggles.
god, you were in love with him.
and bradley was thinking the exact same thing about you.
once you’d finally stopped laughing, quiet came over you, a familiar kind of comfortable quiet, embracing the two of you and enveloping the room with a hum that settled in both of your souls.
or maybe that was a slightly rom-com version of saying; it went quiet.
meeting bradley’s eyes in the quiet, you couldn’t help but stare into them.
his eyes, god his eyes. you loved everything about him but his god damn eyes. they were like whisky, filling up the glass of his iris until it was just about overflowing. they were like jack daniels at the end of a bad day, a little distillery in the scottish highlands turning out the best thing you’d every tasted.
and by god - you would drink whisky every day if it felt like his eyes.
the world around you seemed to stop spinning as you stared into his irises, the couch you were sitting on melting into you until it felt like you were pure mass.
it must have been a genetic impulse. to lean in, to let gravity pull you towards him. you moved your gaze from his eyes to his lips, suddenly imagining what it would feel like to have them on yours.
there couldn’t have been more than a few inches between your faces now, an electric heat in between the two of you as your breath combined, fanning onto each other’s faces.
“y/n,” bradley whispered, the words hitting your ears and snapping you from your chance.
the way he whispered your name woke you up. fuck - what on god’s earth were you thinking? you were his best friend. nothing else. don’t be stupid, y/n. he doesn’t want you.
you pulled back quicker than bradley realised, his eyes still on the spot your lips had been milliseconds before.
clearing your throat, you felt the air around you turn awkward for the first time in years.
“takeout and a movie?” you proposed, hoping to god it would put a bandaid on whatever wound you’d just opened between you two.
“of course,” bradley smiled like nothing even happened. did anything even happen just then, or did you imagine it? “i’ll order.”
nodding, you watched him stand up and walk to where his phone was. you took a hand to your lips, swearing that when you touched the flesh you felt electric shocks.
fuck - you hoped bradley would forget that ever happened. bradley on the other hand; hoped he’d never forget that happened.
-
“good morning aviators,” it wasn’t maverick’s voice this time. “we have some news for you.”
the admiral eyed all of you, making sure he had everyone’s attention before continuing; “your mission date has been moved forward by ten days.”
“oh, shit,” hangman mumbled from beside you.
“this means that you have under a week to complete your training-”
“but sir,” payback piped up. “none of us except rainfall have completed the route yet, and even she fainted.”
“which is exactly why you’re going to be working double as hard, starting today. i’ll now hand over to your teacher.”
and with that he was gone.
“alright,” maverick walked to where the admiral stood a few seconds prior. “same route, in teams of four planes this time. i’ll give you an order, and please-” he looked at you. “no passing out.”
a few people sniggered, leaving you rolling your eyes. you were at ten point three g’s - what the hell were you supposed to do? and you’d lost at least a cup of blood. like they would stay conscious in that situation.
“alright, team one; yale as your team leader, fritz as your wingman, omaha and harvard in dagger two, halo and coyote in dagger three.”
the six of them stood up, walking to the door and waiting to be dismissed. maverick waved them off, chatting amongst themselves as they walked down the corridor.
“do you think any of them can manage it?” hangman asked you, watching the door close behind them.
you hummed; “maybe. yale’s a good pilot.”
“better than you?” he raised an eyebrow.
scoffing, you turned to him. “better than you? than any of us? we’re all the best of the best, jake. don’t be bitter.”
“hey, come on,” he raised his hands in defence. “i was just asking. you know, giving you something to think about.”
“have you been listening to like, anything, maverick said?” you smirked. “we don’t think up there. stop trying to sabotage me.”
“oh, yeah,” you were glad he got the joke. “that’s definitely what i’m trying to do.”
laughing, you turned away from him, looking at bradley. he seemed a million miles away, staring out of the window into the big wide ocean. you wondered where his mind was, but judging from the way he stared at the water, you knew what he was thinking about already.
his dad’s anniversary was coming up.
-
as it turns out, yale must not have been a good enough pilot, because none of the group managed to complete the route on time. not a single plane would have made it back if this had been a real mission.
“alright, next group is all of you guys. i want rainfall as a team leader, pheonix and bob as your wingman. fanboy and payback in dagger three, rooster and hangman in dagger four.”
without having to turn around, you could picture both bradley and jake’s faces. god, it was a sight to behold. they really were like two spoiled little kids.
did it surprise you to be made team leader? no. you’d been the only person who’d completed the course, and if you hadn’t passed out everything would have went completely ideally.
praying you wouldn’t pass out again this time, you followed the rest of your team out to the planes.
you could still hear hangman and bradley behind you, muttering insults at each other like little children who never learned the meaning of teamwork. it made you smile, knowing that no matter what happened, those task would always hate each other.
yes, it was a strange thing to be smiling about, but it was the sense of stability, a hatred that had been there since they met each other all those years ago and would most likely still be there until the day they died.
not that they really hated each other. you knew that, it was all an act deep down. bradley respected hangman, hangman respected bradley. they just didn’t like to show it.
it went in a blur - from being given your safety briefing to taking off, it felt like you had blinked and you were a thousand feet in the air.
“rainfall, proceed to the coordinates on your dash. everyone else, follow her.” maverick said over the radio; he was supervising the flight.
“got it,” you mumbled back, turning to follow the directions in front of you.
it was the same place you’d gone the last time for this training, you noticed. the same big, open desert, surrounded by forest, spanning what seemed to be hundreds of miles.
“alright, everyone in place?”
checking your controls once more, you nodded to yourself; “i’m good, mav.”
“we’re good.” fanboy replied.
“all good here.” pheonix said.
“yeah, us too.” hangman agreed.
“good. your time starts… now!”
you sped up instantly, pushed back in your chair from the force. pheonix was behind you, a shocked noise coming from her when she realised just how fast you were going.
g-force pushed against you, everything twist and turn you took pressing down on your lungs, like an elephant was standing on top of you.
“thirty seconds in, im about a quarter of the way there.” you stated.
“christ, rainfall, you’re fast.” pheonix answered. “i can’t even see you.”
laughing lightly, you turned to look behind you, pheonix and bob not even appearing in the distance.
“then get faster.” you said.
��speaking of faster,” fanboy groaned. “slow down, hangman, you’re up my ass.”
“you should’ve put pheonix behind you, fan, maybe then you two would be going at the right pace.” hangman answered, cocky tone dripping through the radio.
“that’s a minute, i’m half way there. pheonix, you gotta hurry up. i need that laser on time.”
as you said it, the pair of them appeared behind you, gaining speed with every turn they took.
“happy?” pheonix asked.
“very. like christmas.” you laughed.
the rest of the route was like a second nature to you, each curve coming to you almost naturally. it was here that your nose had started bleeding before, leading to you passing out.
you prayed the pressure wasn’t too much this time; you could not afford another accident. you’d never be put on the mission if you passed out again.
“alright, pheonix, you ready?” you asked, taking a quick look behind you to see where she was.
“always, rainfall.”
pulling up, you felt the g-force push you back, just slightly. this was nothing compared to what was coming.
“alright bob, get that laser ready.” you said, eyes fixed on the target.
“shit- there’s something wrong with this laser, it won’t catch.” he replied, hint of urgency in his voice.
“are you fucking kidding me!?” you yelled back, target getting even closer. there wasn’t enough time.
“i’m sorry, i’m trying everything to-”
“forget it, i’ll drop blind!”
trying to aim without a laser was hard - harder when time was running out. fuck, this shot would have to do.
“bombs away!” you yelled, already hundreds of feet away.
“bullseye!” bob called over the radio, making you let out a relived sigh.
and then you had to pull up. pull up - against the force that pushed you back, so much that you thought you’d go falling through the entire plane and put onto the ground.
you were pulling seven g’s now. seven point five. eight. fuck, your vision was blurring at the edges. your breathing was slow, rigid, like the oxygen wasn’t really getting to you at all.
everything felt light. like you were floating. you could feel your hands, tingly and shaky and slipping off of your controls. you couldn’t form any thoughts, just the overwhelming feeling of calm.
the world was quiet, dull. the ringing in your ears was the only sound audible to you, and even then it didn’t bother you. the bliss of unconsciousness was just about to overtake you and-
“get that fucking laser ready, rooster!” fanboy yelled.
and you were awake again, hands gripping your controls and pushing you forward, levelling yourself after pulling up.
“you alright, rainfall?” maverick asked over the radio, scratchiness scraping against your ears.
“all good,” you mumbled, voice slightly weak. “still awake.”
“i’ve got a lock, i’ve got a lock!” rooster cried, clearly having fun trying to work a laser.
“alright, bombs away!” payback yelled.
both you and pheonix were level now, watching the two of them pull up from a few hundred feet away. you could hear their groans over the radio, bradley taking a few gasps follow by a strained ‘fuck’.
that should not have been as attractive to you as it was.
they were almost there now, twenty seconds more or less and they’d be fine. they just had to stay awake.
which is far easier said than done, clearly, because fanboy seemed to go quiet over the radio, payback getting louder in his calls to his wingman.
“fanboy, you alright?” maverick asked.
and then you saw it - the plane losing balance, turning nose to the ground and falling. fanboy passed out.
“fuck, he’s in g-lock!” payback yelled, voice laced with fear. “fuck, wake up, man!”
“shit,” maverick mumbled, his own plane coming into your view. “let’s hope this works again.”
maverick lined himself up with the other plane, clearly trying to get a dial tone to wake fanboy up. it worked for you, right?
“come on, give me tone, give me tone.” he mumbled.
you felt completely powerless, all you could do was watch. two pilots could die right now, and all you’d be able to do was stare as they went down.
“oh, fuck- oh shit!” fanboy finally yelled, pulling up straight away.
“christ,” you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in, leaning back in your seat.
fanboy came level with the rest of you, clearly shaken up. payback was still yelling at him, something about almost getting both of them killed.
“shit, birds!” maverick interrupted them both, making you turn around in your seat.
about twenty birds were coming straight for you, making you break right straight away. but pheonix didn’t think so fast; you saw a bird fly straight into one of her engines, instantly causing a fire.
“right engine is out!” bob yelled.
“disconnecting power and restarting,” pheonix blurted. “fuck, it didn’t go out.”
you could see them, much like fanboy and payback just minutes before, on a downward spiral - fast. pheonix was an amazing pilot, you had no doubts about that; but there was no way she can pull this back.
and you heard just as much, over the radio; her desperate attempts to keep in the air, downed out by mavericks begs for her to just eject.
she must have tried absolutely everything else, because after a particularly desperate plea from maverick, you saw both pheonix and bob eject.
you watched, mouth half open and breaths shaky. the thought you’d pushed to the back of your mind reading it’s head once more;
this was the mission someone wasn’t coming back from.
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tsumtsumrry · 11 months
Text
(based on an ask i got on my old acc)
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warnings: mentions of cheating, language, angst (obviously)
AN: i can’t decide if this is too long or too short just please enjoy lol (i‘m a slut for feedback and reblogs btw)
“Ha-harry. Need to you pick me up.” Your voice was choppy, with the sobs you’re trying your best to suppress.
“Love? Wha’s happened?” his voice slurs a bit, and it sounds gravely from misuse, letting you know you woke him from his sleep. You feel a pang of guilt hit you and you just feel so miserable, like everything is your fault. You were hoping Harry could make it better, but being a burden to him just makes you feel worse.
“Just, just need you to pick me up. I swear I’ll explain e-everything, just please.” A sob finally breaks its way through and you hear rustling on the other line.
Harry’s heart is breaking listening to yours break like this, he asks for directions, speeding his way to you, breaking way too many traffic laws in the process. He just needs you to be okay, always needs you to be okay.
As soon as you see his car pull up and him running out of it you practically sprint him, collapsing into his arms.
“Precious, what’s—“ he’s distraught, panicked because what could have you acting like this. Sobbing in him arms on an abandoned street at nearly three A.M. in the morning.
“Please, please just take me home. Please, Harry.” you croak, your throat stinging with every word you have to force out.
For the most of the car ride you were in shock, not saying anything until you got to Harry’s house. You’re glad he took the hint that by home you meant home.
He his your home. Your best friend of at least ten years. You don’t remember a time where he wasn’t a constant. He’s everything to you.
It’s takes you a couple days of staying at Harry’s house in comfortable/uncomfortable silence for you to break down and tell him everything.
The look on his face, when he figured it out, before you even said anything, you’d never seen such pain, anguish, and fury. And the fact that you were causing all of it only made you feel worse.
Your fiancé of two years, with another woman. You’ve never been so fucking crushed. You felt like you were worth nothing, what had you done wrong? How could you be so unlovable?
He knew you like the back his hand though, and he could tell exactly the dark places your mind was going.
“Precious, none of this is your fault, I need you to look me in my eyes and tell me you believe that.”
You just blinked at him, with your lower lip wobbling and eyebrows crinkling in pain.
He never fucking liked him, knew he was a piece of shit. He wants to put him fucking six feet under for what he did to you, but right now, you’re the priority.
“Precious…” he breathes out and his voice sounds so full of pain and heartbreak, he pulls you into his arms and holds you until you fall asleep, kissing your head and rocking you back and forth softly.
“Didn’t deserve this. Didn’t fuckin’ deserve this.” he whispers under his breath once he knows you’re asleep.
It took you a while to heal, but you’re still taking one day at a time. Harry has helped you through it, letting you cry with him, always coming to you the second you needed it. And with all this growth, you felt you were ready, ready to get back out there. Start dating again. You’ve decided you can’t let what he did to you ruin your self esteem for the rest of your life.
“So what do you think?” you ask Harry, holding your chopsticks in your hand. He’s typing on his computer, barely paying attention to you.
“Harry.”
“Hmm, precious?”
“What do you think about Shawn?” you say for the second (or maybe third) time today.
All at once the annoying clicking sound of the keyboard stops and Harry’s intense jade eyes are boring into yours, “Shawn? Shawn Rivers?”
“Yeah.” you smile, getting a little bashful, “met him at that coffee shop we always go too. He’s cute and he asked me out so I think I’m gonna go…what do you think?” you say that last part cautiously, your eyes assessing his reaction as best as you can while most of his face is hidden behind a large computer.
He’s gotten a little more protective of you since last year, which is understandable, but if you can move on you figure he can too. Right?
The typing starts back up, only slower and you frown.
“Harry?”
“Hmm.”
“What do you think?” You swear if you have the repeat that sentence again you’re gonna explode.
He just shrugs, his typing becoming faster and more forceful, your eyes flick down to how his arms and from what you can see, there’s a faint vein.
“Harry c’mon I really need your opinion on this.” You whine, truly not understanding why he’s being this way.
“Don’t think you want my opinion, love.” his tone has a bite to it that you aren’t fond of, your frown deepens.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you say cautiously, you’re choosing your words carefully. You’ve never been a big fan of confrontation, especially with those that you care so deeply about.
“I know Shawn, he used to work with me, just don’t think he’s right for you.” he says with a tone of finality.
Your face wears bewilderment, and you look up to see his face, still hard and still concentrated on the computer. He looks absolutely emotionless.
“Not right for me?” you scoff, “and how exactly would you know?”
He looks up from his computer screen, pausing his typing, “I know you and I know him. Simple.”
To you Harry looks emotionless, but under all that he’s seething, but not with anger, with panic and heartache. He had just figured out that he loved you, literally just yesterday. He was working up to courage to say something and then you come in here and tell him you’re ready to start dating other people? No way.
“Well maybe you’re wrong about him.” you say defensively, though your defense is hardly strong with the way your voice wavers.
“Well fuck, I was right about the last one wasn’t I?”
You freeze. What?
Harry’s heart drops as soon as the words leave his lips and as soon as he sees the look on your face.
The shock, the pain, he never wanted to be the one to make you feel this way, never wanted to be on the list of people who’s hurt you.
“Precious…precious I didn’t mean—“
“Leave.” you croak out. Your heart is shattered. Never in your life could you ever think that Harry would say anything like this to you.
“No please, let me—“
“I want you to leave Harry. Please.” your lifeline. The one person you depended on, and you can’t even look him in the eye.
He knows how much what happened affected you, and just to throw back in your face like that? For what?
He takes a step towards you, extending his arm but his heart breaks when you take a step back. You hate that you know him so well, that you can read his eyes, because you can see when the pain flashes in them.
“Precious, please we can sit and talk, you know I would neve—I-I didn’t mean it.”
“Leave, leave, leave.” you mutter, losing your patience.
“Okay, okay. I’m gonna leave, alright? But I’m gonna call you. Is that okay?” you just stare blankly at the floor. “Precious?”
You wish he’d stop calling you that.
When he realizes you’re not gonna give him an answer he slowly picks up his stuff, you here a sniffle but don’t dare to look up, not wanting to see the tears in his eyes.
“I love you, alright? Love you so much. Please, please answer my call.” and with that he leaves.
You immediately burst into tears, your hands shaking and your breath shortening.
How could he say that to you?
Harry calls you a total of eight times before he finally gets the hint that you aren’t gonna answer. You sat by your phone and watched every time his face popped up on your screen with tears streaming down your face.
Maybe you’re overreacting? Surely he didn’t mean it.
H : Precious, you have no idea how sorry I am. You know I would never purposely use your pain against you. Please answer. H
You note that there’s no “xx” after the message.
“Preci-“ He cuts himself and yells your name. You chose the perfect day to go to your favorite coffee shop, there he was, in all his glory.
“Hi.” you mumble, looking shaken.
“Hey.” he breathes out, just in awe that you’re actually in front of him. His pretty girl, god he missed you so much.
“Can we…um talk?” you surprise him by asking. You can see the relief in his eyes, the way they practically well up with tears.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’d…like that. Thank you.”
“Why’d you say it?” you immediately blurt out the second you guys are sat down not-so-comfortable on your couch.
How does he even begin to explain that to you?
“I d-dunno to be honest. I was obviously being a dick. I didn’t know what I was saying, a-and that’s not an excuse but I—“
“Did you mean it?”
“No—No of course not. Could never mean—“
“Okay.”
“Okay?
“Okay. I um—just need some time. Sorry.” you mumble.
“Don’ have to apologize fo’ that, love.” his accent is so thick with all the emotion in his voice and it brings on a new wave of tears to your eyes.
“Can I hug you?” he croaks out, “I know I don’ deserve it but I missed you so much and—and I didn’ know if you were okay. Was worried sick I just—I”
You cut him off by pulling him into your arms. Feeling him try to hold back his sobs against your chest your heart breaks, you just wanna keep him in your arms forever but you can’t deny that what he said really hurt you.
“Sorry” he wipes his nose and detaches from you “I’ll see you. I love you.” he rushes out his words, sounding like he’s about to break down and before you can even blink he’s out of the house.
The pain in his voice wrecks you, and you’d honestly do anything to make it go away, but you need to work through your pain first.
It’s a week before you call him. You wanted to do it earlier, but you had your phone in your hand hovering over his contact, chickening out every time you got close.
You processed your emotions, talked it out with him, and you think you actually got somewhere.
Harry told you why he said what he said, and that conversation ending in tears. You not believing he was actually in love with you and him not believing he actually got it off his chest.
What he said still hurt you, but you understand how his pain turned into irrationality.
You can’t believe it but it feels like everything’s fallen into place.
“Hi, Precious.” he smiles softly at you, reaching over to hold your hand across the table, “missed you.”
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stupidsagestars · 1 year
Note
could i request some kuroo smut drabbles pls :3
𝐡𝐢!! 𝐓𝐲𝐬𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 :𝐃
---★---★---★
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜! 𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨 𝐱 𝐟! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
(there is a tiny bit of plot you have to get through but I can't live without context 😭😭)
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𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜! 𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨 who for some reason cannot stop working, he hates it, he gets alot of money but he has no time for anything, he can't even remember the last time he fucked. He's always coming back to his apartment with a headache and he can't cook for his life so his fridge is filled with pot noodles, microwavable pizza, yogurt and some left over takeaway.
There is one perk though, his lovely co-worker, the girl he's been in love with ever since he talked to you. His intelligent, sexy y/n. In the last few months his innocent crush on you has turned into something a tiny bit more perverted but that's only because he's so desperate for you and has no idea on how to act on it, plus there's nothing wrong with staring at your ass when you bend down to pick a pen, right???
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜! 𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨 who can spot you through the glass windows of his office getting ready for lunch, he checks his watch and decides it's a good time to have lunch too, it's such a coincidence you're both on the way to the same café right?
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜! 𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨 who completely turns off his phone so he can completely focus on you. Your voice is so soothing to him, it scratches all the right parts of his brain and your face, your beautiful face, he tries not to seem obvious when he steals glances at you whilst your working at the office across him. Sometimes you catch him in the act and give him a small smile and a wave to which he returns the gesture with a blush creeping up his face
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜! 𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨 who immediately feels the lustful part of his brain wake up when you tell him that you've left an important document at your apartment and you need to rush back to get it.
"I can come with you." He says quickly grabbing your hand stopping in your tracks.
"Are you sure, I-"
"Y/n. I insist." He says giving you a small smile.
«★»
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜! 𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨 who's gonna have to review every single email and piece of work he's read in the last month because the only thing he can focus on is the moans you make as he pounds to you at a record speed scientists would have to examine. He's got you pressed against your living room wall with your legs wrapped around him and your hands loosely placed on his shoulders.
"I haven't felt this alive in ages." He groans, forcing himself to pull out with his orgasm seconds away. He slowly watches your cum drip from your pussy and his boner reappears like it never left. He considers going for a round 2 but decides against it when he notices your sleepy expression. He carries you into your bedroom and softly places you onto the bed before rushing to the bathroom for a towel and then to the kitchen for a glass of water.
When 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜! 𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨 comes back to your bedroom ( btw his boxers are back on dw 💀) he's absolutely smitten with the expression you're giving him.
He sits beside you and caresses your check with his thumb.
"It's been a while for you too?" He asks, pouring the water into your mouth for you.
"Yep but to be honest, no-one compares to you." You say and he blushes.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜! 𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨 who has a feeling this will definitely lead to something more.
[ Part 2??
I hope you liked this, it's very rushed since I've been working on my series which kuroo will also be appearing in!! but I'm happy to do a part 2, feel free to read my request page if you're interested in submitting one, reblogs,likes and follows are appreciated!! ★★
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watch this. Everyone please fucking watch this, please. Please if you don't have an opinion about this or don't care to reblog please reblog. Please.
what the actual fuck. This us what you all sound like by the way. Everyone making up random shit about Israel that has nothing to do with the situation. This is what you fucking sound like.
Lady: so the number of terrorists you are releasing from prisons is bigger than the number of children you are getting back because you don't care about Palestinian lives, yeah?
Guy: that is an astonishing accusation that makes no sense whatsoever. *lists a lot of reasons (not all of them btw) why that is not in fact true and is a very stupid question*
Lady: *no comment* anyway so your prime minister--
What the fuck is going on. Last time there was a hostage, only 1 btw, Israel released 1400 prisoners. Do you think we wanted 1400 terrorists back? This has NOTHING to do with how much we value lives. Nothing. People I know are hostages. Friends and their little siblings, teachers, people from my town;
do they think we wouldn't do anything to bring them home?
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jackoshadows · 1 year
Note
can you tag your sansa stark posts as anti sansa stark? I’m not telling you to remove the main tag but just add the anti one
Just block me and move on.
It’s weird how fans of the character feel that canon Sansa quotes from the books is anti Sansa.  Meanwhile Arya and Jon stans have to deal with murder baby Arya and incompetent Jon or unrelated quotes randomly put together to rewrite relationships. Maybe that's why the Arya and Jon tags are so full of headcanon Sansa that most of the time feels like an unrecognizable OC.
And then in the comments there is someone who has ‘not read the books in years’ telling me that I lack reading comprehension  😂
And this is while there is so much racist Arya fanart from Sansa stans on the Arya Stark tag despite repeated requests from poc to stop doing this.
It's honestly so depressing to go on the Arya Stark tag and see fanart on the tag or sidebars - because racist art is so popular in fandom!! - where canonically white Arya is differentiated from her more classically beautiful sister by simply drawing her in darker skin tones. At this point it's clear that artists are aware of the racist implications of doing this and still continue to do this because they don't care.
And yet using a Sansa book quote is supposedly 'anti Sansa' and needs to be tagged as such. I guess the tags should only be used for headcanons of racist caricatures of ‘ugly’ Arya and beautiful blue eyed, whitey white Sansa being the best sisters ever and nothing else.
I think the problem for many Sansa stans is that they stay in their echo chambers with their made up headcanons so that when they do venture outside that chamber to posts by other readers on the tag using the books, they are shocked and think there is some sort of unfair crusade going on against their fave.
I am not saying staying within fandom spaces is totally wrong btw. We all curate our fandom experiences on Tumblr. This app in particular allows us to block out ships or opinions we don’t particularly like. I am sure my group of mutuals and fans, including me, who reblog and follow posts have a similar kind of groupthink.
However, what’s fascinating with Sansa stans in particular is that Sansa is so much of a self-insert at this point that 90% of the character is headcanons. Her most popular ships are crackships, her relationships with her siblings has been re-written, she is now the underdog and outcast etc.
This has happened to me so many times -  I make a post, a Sansa stan responds saying I am wrong, I don’t know how to read, I am a hater etc., I respond with book quotes and ask them to read the books, I am called uncivil and then immediately blocked (they just have to get that last word in!) Rinse and repeat.
Take the post that got me the above message for example.
“I’m not like Arya,” Sansa blurted. “She has the traitor’s blood, not me.”   - Sansa, AGoT
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This is really not what happens in that chapter at all. Sansa does not really think of Arya, admits to forgetting about her at the end and it’s only in the next chapter she thinks that Arya may have gotten away on the galley Ned had arranged for them (Which does not happen thanks to Sansa’s tattling of Ned’s plans and Cersei placing Lannister guards on the galley).
At this point Arya is still trapped in KL trying to get out and it’s only been 3 days since Ned has been arrested. However, as per this person, Sansa is begging them not to torture and kill her and therefore names Arya, who she thinks is already safe in Winterfell, 3 days after the Starks and their men are taken down....
In the OP, I have used the most basic quotes, but in the actual chapter it’s far worse. Sansa is actually still dreaming of marrying beautiful prince Joffrey when she is taken to meet Cersei:
That night Sansa dreamt of Joffrey on the throne, with herself seated beside him in a gown of woven gold. She had a crown on her head, and everyone she had ever known came before her, to bend the knee and say their courtesies.
“Sweet Sansa,” Queen Cersei said, laying a soft hand on her wrist. “Such a beautiful child. I do hope you know how much Joffrey and I love you.”
“You do?” Sansa said, breathless. Littlefinger was forgotten. Her prince loved her. Nothing else mattered. (---)
“She is a sweet thing now, but in ten years, who can say what treasons she may hatch?”
“No,” Sansa said, horrified. “I’m not, I’d never … I wouldn’t betray Joffrey, I love him, I swear it, I do.” (---)
“And yet, I fear that Lord Varys and the Grand Maester have the right of it. The blood will tell. I have only to remember how your sister set her wolf on my son.”
“I’m not like Arya,” Sansa blurted. “She has the traitor’s blood, not me. I’m good, ask Septa Mordane, she’ll tell you, I only want to be Joffrey’s loyal and loving wife.” - Sansa, AGoT
And then at the very end of the chapter:
It was not until later that night, as she was drifting off to sleep, that Sansa realized she had forgotten to ask about her sister. - Sansa, AGoT
So yes, Sansa is scared of not being able to marry Joffrey anymore, frightened of being accused as a traitor like her father and therefore throws out Arya’s name as the traitor - when as far as she knows Arya is in KL and Lannisters could have Arya, the same as her.
Next,
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This is the funniest part! - ‘I haven’t read these books in a few years, however, it’s you who is very much lacking reading comprehension’ 😂😂😂
Make it make sense please. And then we are back to the usual Sansa is just a child, she’s 11 goddammit! She’s a teeny tiny baby! It’s totally justified for her to throw her even younger 9 year little sister under the bus as a traitor to be tortured or killed by the likes of Joffrey and Cersei instead of her.
And then finally, the predictable conclusion:
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And block! 
Because of course made up headcanons are ‘alternative interpretations’ and if we point out it’s fanfiction then we are being uncivil.
I can only say that I am glad that my side of the fandom don’t engage in this much fanfiction, projections and headcanons. It’s frustrating as a book fan to be told that I lack reading comprehension because I don’t accept their ‘alternative interpretations’ of how Sansa thinks Arya is safe in Winterfell three days after the Lannisters massacred all the Stark men and imprisoned Ned stark. And while Arya herself is still stuck inside KL unable to leave.
At this point I really do think there is no point in engaging with these stans because they are not doing this in good faith. Just block rather than waste time discussing. They seem to think that we need to accept their headcanons as book canon and if we don’t then we are simply anti Sansa posting anti Sansa stuff on the tags. It’s certainly a fascinating fandom aspect of a self insert fan favorite. It’s the reason she wins polls above more complex and well written characters in the books, the popular version of her is entirely about what fans project onto the character rather then actual written version in the books.
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masked-and-doomed · 6 months
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NEW ME NEW INTRO!!
Hello, I'm Kat/Kats (or Yomotsu), I had a blog previous to this but I accidentally deleted it! It went by the same url as now, "yomotsu-hirasaka". If you've followed me in the past and now just finding my blog again, apologies! I had like 20-ish mutuals and 130~ followers so. Yeah sorry about that.
Discord: thatonekats
👆 just in case. Tumblr explodes. Talk to me if you wanna ig (I am not good at conversing. So. Keep that in mind.)
Suspected BPD, have been diagnosed autistic. I will feel things very intensely either forever or feel nothing about it in the next hour max. You may see vague vent posts. Every now and then. Check the tagging system to block em out.
I am deeply in love and sickly affectionate for 4 men. They're my boyfriends, girlfriends, besties- our relationship? Is uhh whatever man. It's love. It's love. (Also not the best fathers but hey I take what I can get)
First two being Yomotsu Hirasaka (pfp), and Takao Hiyama. They are my most intense hyperfixation of 2 years.! They are from Mirai Nikki/Future Diary. An anime/manga which I don't really like.
The next beloved is Pocketcat! He is from Fear and Hunger. He's. A silly :) There's so much intrigue of him aaaghhh ough he is so sad.
Last one !! Faust. From Guilty Gear. He's a. He's somebody. Got him on Valentine's Day. He makes me a different kind of ill. Alas, this doctor cannot cure me.
They're 💙 just like me fr. I love them. URL is them btw. Masked men, doomed.
(comfortable with sharing and gushing together with everyone. I don't mind if you send or @ me in stuff that has Faust shipped with someone, (I like appreciating art of Faust in any form :] ) just know I'm uncomfy with all Faust ships except Happy Chaos)
--
I do block on some criteria but I will not disclose it. So, you may get blocked by me for something, and you will never know. (Followers only)
(if we're mutuals and you block me, I'd like to know the reason why. Not a requirement.)
--
Yayaya tagging system time!
#ah rambling - general yapping tag
#[MN/funger] rambling - ramblings of MN or funger
#[MN/funger] bangers - memes/shitposts of that fandom
#oc time - posts about the little OCs I have
#unnamed girlie - posts about my self insert. (UG for short)
#guy in my head - headcanon posts
#doodle tag - stuff not high effort enough to put into my art blog goes here
#reblog moment - reblogs! So you can filter them out
#lovesick - yandere / obsessive behaviour
#art save - images I wanna draw (typically memes I wanna draw with my guys)
#gatito - kitty tag.
#belalang beloveds - grasshopper tag. Belalang is grasshopper in Malay :)
#art reference material - reblogs of posts with helpful art stuff
#general reference material - reblogs of posts with whatever that isn't art. Not really 'general' perse but I don't have another word
#epic meowtual art - art by the meowtuals!
#ask game - reblogs of ask game posts
#ask game answer - answers to asks abt the ask game
#hello asker - ask tag
#tag game - reblog of posts that are meant to have you tag other ppl to continue the chain
#negative. And #/negative are used for vent posts. Make those sometimes.
#hxrny aroace on main - (mind the x) epic posts where I feel feelings for some characters (carnally)
#fanfic shit idfk - posts related to fanfics I'm reading (or something like that)
#shit I send to fictional guy - posts I'd send to fictional characters. Will prob have their name tagged too.
#unnamed oc core - wow it's just like him fr. Many things will be tagged this btw. They are not okay. (Same person as UG jsyk)
#pocketkitty - for posts I don't want in the pocket.cat tag or reblogging posts that are like pocket.cat. (only applies to him everyone else gets tagged with their name in posts that are like them)
#robot nephew - similar to pocketkitty just that it's. Mr robo.t K.y
#silly doctor man - I fell into gui.lty g.ear and now I'm in love with this bozo. When I don't want it to be in the main tag. Yes like pocketkitty and robo bo.
#mister omelette - guy that asks which came first the chicken or the egg. Answers himself, it's omelette.
Liveblog tags:
Guilty gear: #pride in my gears: sign, #pride in my gears: rev
--
Tag me in stuff you think I like!! I don't mind! Or like tag games .
@katsdoodles - art blog/archive.
There's also a *cough cough* side blog for certain thoughts and art about darling Pocketcat. If you want it just give a DM ig.
That's all for now!! Have fun!!
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