#returned with edits after some constructive criticism

[whoreforjisung]

Pervy neighbor Jisung one-shot ✨

-Might continue the story in multiple parts if people are interested! I still have many ideas when it comes to pervy jisung

-Content / tags / warnings: smut / non-idol au / perv!jisung pining for new neighbor reader / masturbation (m,f) / ji is a little bit of an asshole / non-consensual pictures / one use of “noona” / drug and alcohol consumption / brief mentions of Felix, Minho, Changbin, and Seungmin

-Names are used as faceclaims only, and do not reflect the actions and personalities of real people

-Word Count: 6.2k

-I am very new to tumblr, and this is my very first time writing anything like this, so it is not proof-read or edited. Constructive criticism welcome!

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As a full-time freelance artist, you luckily had the liberty to pack up your cherished belongings and move to wherever you desired whenever you liked. That’s how you ended up landing yourself in Seoul at the ripe age of 24. It might sound silly, but you had a lifelong dream of living in a cozy apartment with a decent-sized balcony area. When a listing popped up during an impromptu trip to Korea, in Seoul nonetheless, for a manageable price, you immediately jumped on it. It was game over as soon as you visited and saw the beautiful balcony with a wrought-iron spiral staircase. After reluctantly returning home, it was hard to contain your excitement in the weeks leading up to your move. You were already eagerly selecting furniture to buy, as well as decorations, and brainstorming ideas on how to use the space as soon as you finalized the lease.

As you finally pulled up to the new apartment, you couldn’t contain the wide smile that crept across your face as you shielded your eyes from the sun, admiring your spacious balcony. Just the thought of being able to curl up at dusk with that book you’ve been meaning to read for ages on the hammock chair you purchased for it, had you teeming with excitement. It kept you in a positive spirit as you lugged boxes containing your possessions one by one up the stairs and into your new home. That was, until you accidentally dropped the large framed painting you were attempting to transport, sending it tumbling down the stairs leaving hundreds of glass shards in its wake. The sudden noise startling your cat, Newt, from his peaceful slumber in his carrier. He reacted with a hiss and a few agitated meows.

“Would it kill you to keep it down? Some of us are trying to WORK here! FUCK!” You look up from your kneeled position on the stairs as you’re scrambling to pick up the glass shards, and your eyes meet a young man with a scowl on his face, leaning over the balcony opposite to yours. He has a pair of headphones dangling around his neck and is clutching a can of beer, fingernails adorned with black nail polish. “I’m so sorry! I should’ve been more careful. It won’t happen again!” You replied as you continued picking up the pieces. “Whatever. Can you do something about your hairball? It’s making my damn ears bleed.” He angrily snapped in response, pointing towards Newt’s carrier. You could tolerate the first comment, but who did he think he was to so directly insult your pet like that? “Just because I caused a minor commotion doesn’t give you the right to be so rude to a complete stranger. Since I’m no longer disrupting you, Why don’t you close the window, remove the stick up your ass, and get back to your oh-so-important work while I quietly move the rest of my boxes into my house. Sound good?” He didn’t seem to have a response for you, instead opting to toss back the remainder of his drink, crushing the can and tossing it directly towards your feet before shutting the window. Taking a deep breath, you grabbed your dustpan from the box labeled “cleaning supplies” and swept up the rest of your mess (along with “mystery jerk neighbor’s” added trash) before moving the final few boxes, as well as the cat carrier inside.

You were so grateful the place came furnished, as you promptly slumped down on the green velvet couch, allowing yourself to take a quick breather before taking Newt out of the carrier, letting him explore while you unpacked his necessities and began assembling the cat tree. By the time sunset began to roll around, you had made a decent amount of progress unpacking and building a good amount of your living room and kitchen furniture, including your hammock chair for the balcony. After brewing yourself a cup of tea and grabbing the book you intended to read, you finally made your way to your new outdoor relaxation sanctuary.

After situating yourself in the chair, draping a thin blanket over your legs, and taking a sip of warm green tea, you let out a content sigh as you finally opened your novel, ready to immerse yourself into the story for the next hour or so. You made it through exactly 2 1/2 chapters before “mystery jerk neighbor” made his second appearance. This time, followed by a small white puppy and the unmistakable smell of weed. Now, you normally wouldn’t consider yourself to be the petty type, but his disrespect towards you earlier prompted you to throw some back his way in retaliation. When he took a long drag and proceeded to start coughing up a lung, you shouted “Keep it down would ya? Some of us are trying to READ here!” Mirroring his first words to you. “Oh that’s realll original” he replied with a pained rasp between coughs. Rolling your eyes, you redirected your attention back to your book, assuming that would be the end of the distraction.

A small handful of pages later, a loud “YOOOO FELIX” pierces through the silence as he starts a phone call. Placing a bookmark to save your spot, you close the book and set it on your small side table. After a few minutes you return , donning your noise cancelling headphones. You’d be damned if you were going to let him ruin your highly anticipated reading time after a long and exhausting day. A peaceful 10 minutes later, he retreats back into his own apartment- much to your delight. However, your joy is short-lived as he soon returns with an acoustic guitar slung across his torso and takes a seat. Unfortunately, you quickly realize his strumming penetrates through your headphones. So much for noise-cancelling. Completely losing your focus and not wanting to engage with him any further, you decide it’s time to head inside and get yourself ready for bed. After a much-needed shower to rinse off the sweat and dust that had accumulated on your body throughout the day, you continue your nightly routine. Slipping on a pair of panties and one of your many oversized sleep shirts, you head to the kitchen to finish your cup of tea while absentmindedly scrolling on tiktok. After setting your mug in the sink and brushing your teeth in the bathroom, you finally turn into bed and listen to Newt’s content purrs as he cuddles up to you, both of you quickly drifting off to sleep.

You curse yourself for setting your alarm so early as you’re jolted awake by the incessant, absurdly high-pitched beeping at 8:00 AM. You did have a specific reason for wanting to wake up so early though, as you remember your plans and reluctantly drag yourself out of bed. Your first task of the day was grocery shopping, so after brushing your teeth and twisting your hair up into a claw clip, you threw on a pair of sweatpants with a black cropped hoodie and began your walk to the nearest market.

Arriving after about fifteen minutes, you began working through your ingredients list. You stopped at an herb stall with a middle-aged woman behind the booth. One of your many plans for your balcony space was to install a fresh herb garden, so you engaged in small talk with the seller as you selected various herbs to purchase. “Do you sell cat grass?” You asked. Suddenly, a young man with blond hair springs up from under the counter. “You won’t find any here at the market, but I can show you where to get some!” You’re taken aback by the deep voice that comes out of him, as well as his strangely friendly offer. Sensing your apprehension, the woman adds “Oh don’t worry dear, you can trust him! Yongbok here is our designated neighborhood helper.” She smiles at him as she pats his back. “Oh uhh okay. I have a few more things to grab here first, if that’s okay?” You reply, setting your items down for him to ring up. A few minutes later, you finished picking up the rest of the items on your list and returned to the stall to let him know you were ready. “I’ll be back in about twenty minutes Auntie!” He called back to the woman as the two of you walked away.

You found it surprising how talkative he was. He told you his name was Felix, he grew up in Australia, but moved to Korea when he was seventeen, and he loves cooking, baking, and gaming. Even though you just met him, you were happy you shared some of the same interests, and honestly a little part of you hoped this wouldn’t be the last you’d see of him. The short walk led you to a large apartment complex. Felix told you his friend, Minho, is a huge cat-lover who grows his own cat grass, so you figured this is where he lived. It seemed like he spent a lot of time at Minho’s place, as the security guard immediately buzzed you both in as soon as he saw him, greeting him with a wave.

Felix knocked on the door as you arrived at, presumably, his friend’s unit. You could hear multiple voices from outside the door, and began to feel a little bit anxious. The door opened to reveal quite possibly the buffest man you have ever seen in person before. He quickly pulled your new acquaintance into a bear hug, shouting “FELIX IS HEREEE- and who’s this?” He added as he broke away, noticing you. You shyly introduced yourself to him, still standing in the doorway before Felix enters, pulling you both in. Feeling slightly overwhelmed by the amount of people present, you keep your gaze trained on the floor as he ushers you into the kitchen. “Hey Minho! This is the girl I texted you about. You know- the cat grass” He explained as he gestures toward you.

You pry your gaze from the floor to see an -admittedly, beautiful man holding a spatula and wearing an apron that says “world’s best Mom” on it in hot pink lettering. As you struggle to stifle a giggle, he quickly explains that he received it as a gift from his friend Seungmin. Since he can’t leave the kitchen while he’s cooking, he instructs Felix to take you to his study, where he has prepared a small pot for you to take home. As you enter the study, you notice a sleeping figure on the black leather couch in your peripheral vision. It wasn’t until you quietly retrieved the pot, turning to exit the room, that you recognized the person sleeping. He was your mysterious jerk neighbor! You had to admit though, as much as your very limited interactions with him pissed you off, he looked kinda cute peacefully sleeping like that- with his dark, curly hair cascading over the side of his face, cheeks all puffed out and lips formed into a devastating little pout. It was hard to believe this was the same man as the asshole that lived across from you. Once you realized you were staring at him, you shook your thoughts away and silently made your way back into the living room. Thanking Minho and bidding farewell to everyone else, you and Felix began your trek back to the market.

Arriving back home shortly after dropping Felix off and giving him your socials, you got to work putting away your groceries and began to tackle the daunting task of unpacking and organizing your belongings. In order to not burn yourself out, you made sure to take breaks every few hours. During your breaks you would work on artwork, watch an episode of the kdrama you were currently immersed in, play with Newt, crochet, and stretch- even doing a little bit of yoga in the evening.

After you were satisfied with the progress you made for the day, you booted up your computer and logged on to Miroh- a new labyrinth MMORPG you had found yourself getting absolutely sucked into lately. You didn’t find the time to game as often as you would have liked to, but when you did, you preferred to set aside a good four hours or so in order to ensure you’d make a decent amount of progress with every session. After several failed attempts to demolish the octo-cyclops boss of the S-Class dungeon- in order to acquire its exclusive armor set, you were about to call it quits for the night when a random player requested to join your party. You accepted the request from _doolsetnet, sending a gratitude emote as you entered the dungeon for the umpteenth time that night, this time with another player at your assistance.

Your morale was high as you successfully cleared the second stage almost flawlessly, mentally preparing for the third and final stage. It started off well, but as the boss’s rage intensified, so did it’s attack speed. You both took a few good hits, your health bar depleting rapidly. Your helper still had a good three-quarters of their health to spare, and enough mana to cast one spell. The boss only had about a quarter left on its health bar- two more good hits and it would go down. You unmuted your mic to request a heal from your partner, which they promptly offered. With your health bar restored to half-full, and your mana charged for two attacks, you were finally able to hear the sweet, sweet cries of defeat as you slayed the beast. You jumped out of your chair, raising your fists in the air and letting out a loud “FUCK YESSS! TAKE THAT YOU ONE-EYED SLIMY CUNT” as the game rewarded you with the gorgeous mother-of-pearl armor set you’ve been ogling for months- complete with an iridescent helmet showcasing the monster’s eye. You sent user _doolsetnet a thank you message, and attached a gift containing a couple hundred gold along with a few of the rare armor dyes you had extras of. They responded by shooting you a friend request, which you accepted, and a rare weapon skin you also had your eye on. After logging off for the night, you hopped in the shower, brushed your teeth, crawled into bed with Newt in your arms, and fell asleep.

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The day you moved in was a rough one for Han Jisung. All morning he worked tirelessly, trying to perfect the song he was commissioned to produce for a high-profile client. Each time he finished editing and emailing the file, he was always met with a problem. The beat overpowers the vocals, the guitar is too quiet, the bpm is too fast, too slow- it was impossible to please them with this song, and he was going to absolutely lose it. As a perfectionist, he couldn’t let it go until both him, and the client, were both one-hundred percent satisfied. He was running on about six hours of sleep in the past three days, with a concerning lack of food and over-dependence on coffee, energy drinks, and beer. He could barely rip his focus away from the project long enough to shower and make sure his beloved puppy, Bbama, was still well taken care of.

When the blaring hisses and sharp beeps of the moving trucks breached through the music he was working on, he nearly screamed out the window at them to shut the fuck up, but he still had self control. Honestly, it was his fault for procrastinating even though he knew someone would be moving in across from him today. He tried to drown out the noise for the next hour, and when the trucks pulled out, his focus finally pulled in again. He locked in- diligently toiling away at the project, until two hours later, he had the latest revised version complete. Making sure he took all of his client’s requests into account, he submitted the file and began the waiting game. Anxiously pacing around his apartment and biting his nails for another hour, he received an email notification. He sprinted to his computer, not even bothering to take a seat as his hand hovered over the mouse for a few seconds in anticipation. He slid the cursor over the most recent email in his inbox, squeezing his eyes shut and chanting a quiet “please, please, please..” he clicked the mouse and slowly opened his eyes, scanning the results. “Mr. Han, We always appreciate your hard work, and are nearly content with the song. There are just a few small tweaks we would like to- “MOTHERFUCKER” he threw himself onto his couch and muffled an anguished scream with his pillow. He nearly started bawling due to the overwhelming frustration and crippling exhaustion.

The deadline was tomorrow, and he would have to rework the godforsaken song for the sixteenth and last time. He had to make his next submission perfect- or risk losing one of his most important clients. He peeled himself off the couch, sauntered over to his fridge to grab yet another can of beer, returned to his desk, took a few deep breaths, and got to work. There was one specific part of the song that needed reworked. He began playing the same fifteen seconds repeatedly, closer and closer to losing his sanity as he just could not pick out what was wrong with it. Another ten times- still couldn’t place it. Twenty more times, and then he caught it- at the very end of the segment. His full focus on the next loop, he cranked the volume and listened intently, not even daring to breathe in fear of it disrupting his flow. The last five seconds coming up- this was it.

A loud crash broke his focus, followed by the shrieking howls of an agitated cat. That was his last straw. He slammed his left fist down on his desk, still clutching his beer can in his right hand. Shooting out of his chair he flung open the sliding door and stormed to the edge of his balcony. He started yelling before even thinking, just letting all of his pent-up rage out on whoever his new neighbor was. Once the red-hot fury died down, and he actually saw the unfortunate victim of his outburst, he retreated in embarrassment. She was a girl who looked to be in her early to mid twenties, around the same age as him. Kinda cute too, and he threw his fucking beer can at her! God, what the hell was wrong with him? He wanted to crawl into the fetal position and just disappear forever. Unfortunately for him, though, he still had the grueling obligation of completing his wretched assignment. He stretched, cracked his knuckles, and got to work once more.

A painstaking six hours later, he checked over the email again, to refer to his clients requirements. Making damn sure he remembered EVERYTHING this time, he went through a mental checklist. He listened to the full song one more time, paying close attention to the fifteen second segment he had reworked dozens of times. This time, he had swapped the guitar for a bassy synth to create a break at the end of the pre-chorus, and he honestly felt satisfied with the outcome. He might’ve entered a state of delirium after twenty-four restless, stress filled hours, and slipped into a rather cocky mindset. He was happy with the song at last, and the client would be content with it too. Honestly, they were lucky to have a producer like him working with them. He was a musical genius. After confidently re-submitting the file for the final time, he rolled himself a much-deserved joint. He gave little Bbama all the belly rubs and smooches he had missed the last few days as he made his way to the balcony for a stress-relieving smoke.

Jisung took a few deep drags, feeling increasingly calm with every exhale, until his breath caught in his throat upon noticing you lounging on your balcony straight across from him- seemingly deeply invested in a book. The smoke in his throat burned, launching him into a painful coughing fit. He silently prayed that you wouldn’t notice, and mentally cursed himself when you did- repeating his same harsh words to you earlier, absolutely dripping with sass. He threw back a half-assed reply, wishing he could’ve put more effort into it, and was rewarded with a nonchalant eye-roll. Oh, it was game-over for him now. One thing Jisung could never control himself around, was a person who simultaneously gave off the vibes of a dom, while exuding just the perfect amount of brattiness- just enough for him to want to mercilessly fuck the attitude out of.

He decided right then and there to “test your limits”- so to speak. He dialed up his buddy Felix, making sure to greet him as loudly and obnoxiously as he could possibly muster. Only to be met with disappointment, as you just sighed and closed your book, withdrawing back into your living space. Maybe he jumped the gun- and assumed too much too soon? Oh well, he’d have plenty more chances to get a rise out of you, and began plotting his next move as he continued his conversation with Felix. When you returned wearing headphones, and sat back down to resume your book- completely ignoring him, he immediately felt his dick tightening against his pants, begging to be freed. He didn’t have you all wrong- quite the contrary. He had you just right, and the little bit of tantalizing cleavage your tank top revealed to him was the perfect tease, your breasts slightly squeezing together with every page you turned.

He attempted to mess with you a little more, even bringing out his guitar, in the hopes of disrupting your reading just enough to prompt an annoyed outburst. (And maybe even impressing you a little bit with his skills). When you once again retreated inside, and didn’t return, he figured you just went to bed this time. It was like all of his pent-up frustration throughout the week sent itself straight to his manhood. He was throbbing as he fell back on his couch, palming himself over his jeans. He had to use his imagination, having only his limited view of your cleavage to work with, but that wasn’t a problem for him.

You were straddling his lap on his couch, plush thighs squeezing either side of his as you slowly and tortuously ground yourself against his aching length. In this scenario, you had caught him sneaking a peek at you through the window and stormed over, angrily knocking on his door to confront him. You were yelling at him with your arms crossed, squeezing your tits together and giving him the perfect view. -He finally released himself from his denim prison, wrapping his hand around his thick, hard length, and letting out a sigh- When you noticed where he was staring, and looked down to see the prominent bulge in his pants, you forcefully pushed him down on the couch, climbing on top of him. Yanking the nape of his curly hair, you compelled him to look up at you, chastising him for being a dirty pervert. “You disgusting piece of shit- can’t even be scolded by a woman without getting yourself all hot and bothered.” You spat at him as he let out a whimper. “How pathetic” the way you breathlessly enunciated that word had him fisting his angry cock furiously, thighs twitching and breaths panting as he felt his chest tighten. He was so close already- probably due to his lack of jerking off for the past few days.

When you crept your hand up his chest and around his throat, harshly squeezing your fingers around it, he came. All over his hand, shirt, pants, couch, and even spilling a few drops onto his floor. He can’t even remember the last time he came this hard- it was probably one of the first times he ever masturbated. He didn’t even get to the best part in his scenario, the part where he takes over, flipping you onto your back and burying his face between your legs, eating you out like you’re his last meal while you’re whining and begging him to take you, as you release all over his fingers and face. He felt himself twitch, and looked down in disbelief to be met with yet another raging boner. God, the things you did to him, and you didn’t even know him, or his name. It just made the whole thing that much hotter. He’ll make sure you’ll find out soon, though, so the you in his fantasies can scream it for him.

After cleaning up his mess, and slipping into a clean pair of sweatpants, he made his way over to his fridge, and grabbed himself a cup of water. Chugging it down to soothe his dry throat, he glanced out the window- his eyes falling on you. You were wearing nothing but a large t-shirt, barely covering the curve of your ass, as you leaned over your kitchen counter. Sipping on a mug in one hand and scrolling on your phone in another, you were unknowingly giving him some quality material to work with. He made sure to engrain that image of you in his mind, taking note of every detail of your legs, including your tattoos, for next time.

The next morning, after getting a few hours of sleep and clearing his brain fog, he was mortified to say the least. He made himself out to be a complete asshole to his new (hot) neighbor, and immediately proceeded to ferociously pump himself dry to his imagination of said neighbor. Embarrassed was an understatement. He groaned as he got out of bed, heading into the bathroom to brush his teeth. As he refilled Bbama’s food and water dishes, he decided he should apologize to you for his rude behavior.

A little while later, he found himself standing outside your door, preparing his fist to knock. As he heard your footsteps nearing increasingly closer, he panicked and made a beeline to the end of the hallway, tucking himself around the corner. He caught his breath, noticing you exiting your unit and heading down the stairs. He was startled by his phone buzzing, pulling it out of his pocket to read a text from Minho. “Get your ass over here NOW. I know you haven’t eaten well in days and I’m preparing some bulgogi.” He honestly didn’t even notice just how hungry he was, being too distracted by this work, and- well, you, to care. He pulled himself up and made his way over to Minho’s.

He immediately flopped down on the couch in the study after greeting his friends. They knew him- and his current work dilemma, well enough to understand he didn’t have the energy for socializing until he got a good rest, so that’s exactly what he proceeded to do. Seungmin kicked open the door when their meal was ready, jolting Jisung awake. He drug his feet to the kitchen, joining Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, and Suengmin at the table and taking his seat. While quite literally stuffing his mouth, he listened to his friends converse and argue, adding in a few comments muffled by the food stored in his cheeks. His interest piqued when Changbin mentioned the girl that came by, turning to Minho and sending him a puzzled look. Since when does Minho invite girls over? His older friend noticed his expression, and responded by explaining that Felix had brought her over because she was on the hunt for cat grass. “I can’t deny though, she was just my type. I’ll have to ask Felix if he got her number.” Hyunjin piped up, wiggling his eyebrows.

Seungmin shot him a side-eye, pinching his arm and causing the other to yelp while chastising him for his fuckboy attitude. Jisung on the other hand, was intrigued- asking Hyunjin to describe her appearance, practically begging, honestly. Who could blame him? He was currently down bad- astronomically, even. After listening to Hyunjin’s description, agreeing that she did, in fact, seem very attractive, he rewarded his friend with a description of the goddess that had just moved in next door to him. Hyunjin was practically drooling as he described her perky tits and thick, tattoo-adorned thighs in great detail, prompting Seungmin to manually shut his jaw. “No more horny talk over the meal I slaved away at all day, to prepare for you ungrateful degenerates!” Minho shouted, bringing the conversation to an abrupt halt. After finishing the perfectly-cooked bulgogi and cleaning up after themselves, Jisung walked home, with Hyunjin in tow, begging him to let him crash at his place. Hyunjin lived only a block away from him, so he knew the only reason was so his friend could get a look at you. Cursing himself for his overly-enthusiastic recounting of your gorgeous body- only having seen the lower half so far, he pushed Hyunjin towards the opposite end of the fork dividing the paths between both of their residences.

When he returned home, he cracked open a can of beer, bringing it to his lips as he looked out his window, once again catching a glimpse of you. He quite literally spit out the liquid he was holding in his mouth, as his gaze was met with your ass pointed directly towards him, your back arched towards the floor, and arms outstretched while you contorted your body into what seemed to be a yoga pose. He silently praised whatever god might exist for you leaving your curtains open, and wearing the shortest compression shorts, as he stared- dumbfounded. He could literally see the outline of your pussy, leaving barely anything to his imagination. He wasn’t proud of it at all, but simply his memory would not suffice. He just had to snap a pic. He laid down on his bed as he pulled down the waistband of his joggers. Staring at his new favorite picture,

He began to slowly stroke himself as his imagination ran wild.

This time, you were doing yoga on your balcony when you caught him staring. You didn’t seem mad, quite the opposite, however, as he watched you sit down and part your legs, not breaking eye contact as you shoved your fingers in your mouth, slowly sucking on them. He watched you leisurely trail your other hand down your chest, squeezing your right breast, and releasing a pretty moan muffled by your fingers as you grazed over your nipple. He wondered how your moans would really sound. Would they be as needy as he’s picturing them right now? He hoped he would get the chance to find out. He imagined you releasing your spit-covered hand from your mouth, placing it on your inner thigh and leaving wet trails as it inched further and further to your puffy cunt, obstructed by your tight compression shorts. Still not breaking eye contact with him, you slid the garment to the side, as well as the tiny red thong you wore underneath in his fantasy. Giving him a mouth-watering view of your dripping heat, you plunged two fingers in, gasping at the feeling of fullness. You closed your eyes as you slowly pumped in and out, letting the quietest whimpers grace his ears. You lifted your head and offered him a sexy smirk, beckoning him to “come here” with your two glistening fingers. He brought his hand to his mouth, spitting into it and resuming its position wrapped around his needy cock. The added lubrication allowed him to increase his pace- still careful not to go too fast and risk missing out on the best parts of his scenario again.

He started to let out a few breathy whines as he imagined himself knocking on your door. You answered quickly, grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him in before closing the door, and leading him to your bedroom. He kicked off his shoes somewhere along the way, and you sat on the edge of your bed, instructing him to kneel on the floor between your thighs. He trailed sloppy, open mouthed kisses up your inner thighs as you tangled your hand in his curls. He broke away to remove your shorts and thong, giving him a clear view of your arousal. He caught a whiff of your sweet scent, flattening his tongue and slowly lapping up towards your clit. You responded by pulling on his hair and grinding yourself against his face, causing him to release a deep moan, the vibration had you shuttering against him. He slipped his ring finger in, the cold metal of his ring contrasting with the warmth of your walls caused your eyes to roll back. You let out a loud moan as his middle finger joined the other inside you, relishing in the juxtaposition of slight pain and pleasure, as he stretched you out. You used his fingers to fuck yourself towards him, allowing his undivided attention to focus on sucking and circling your clit. This had you absolutely reeling, crushing his head between your thighs and coming undone, rewarding him with the most filthy, sinful, screams as his face was coated with your sweet nectar. He looked up at you as he sensually plunged his fingers into his mouth, licking up your release, and groaning at the taste. Your eyes glistened as he stood up, looking down at you as you returned his gaze through your lashes. You lowered your focus to the tent in his sweatpants, taking in the perfect outline of his curvature as you parted your legs and begged- no, pleaded with him to fuck you. You promised you’d be good for him, make him feel good, let him use you. The incoherent mumbling faltered as he sandwiched himself between your legs, and pulled his waistband down- his hard, leaking dick slapping against your abdomen. He hoisted your legs over his shoulders, keeping a strong grip on them as he finally plunged himself deep into your soaked cunt. He allowed you to adjust yourself to the stretch, choking out a guttural groan and a “fuck.. noona!” (He has no idea how old you are, he just has a little bit of a fixation on the idea of you being slightly older than him. He’ll unpack that another time.) As he imagined feeling you clench around him- and he felt his cock twitch violently in his hand- he blew his load all over himself, feeling the warm liquid coating his fingers and abs.

Panting heavily, he still couldn’t look away from his phone in his grip, displaying the picture he took of you. He wanted -needed- to know what it was like to see you up close in the same position. After taking a few moments to collect himself, he walked past his window on the way to the fridge. Seeing you sitting in front of your computer, back tensed in what appeared to be frustration, he tried to maneuver his vision around you to get a peek at what you were working on. He figured you were an artist, as you had all kinds of equipment set up around your living room- canvases, easels, and a cart full of what appeared to be paintbrushes and paints. He wanted to see if you were working on a digital art piece, and nearly came in his pants when he finally caught a view of your computer, instantly recognizing the images on your screen. You weren’t working on art, you were playing Miroh- his current favorite MMORPG. He opened his phone camera and zoomed in to try to get a better view of the game. Adrenaline surged in his chest as he saw the familiar Octo-Cyclops he has beaten countless times. In fact, he helped many players through that dungeon in the Miroh discord server he was an active member in. This was his time to shine. He captured a picture of your screen, hoping to make out your username. Sure enough, it was legible.

He practically sprinted to his computer and logged into the game, quickly typing in your tag and requesting to join your party, which you immediately accepted. He got to work preparing his inventory and chuckled to himself when you sent him a cute emote to thank him in advance for helping. At the third stage of the boss fight, he was playing defensively- letting you take the brunt of most of the attacks while he conserved his mana for a healing spell. As he watched your health bar start to deplete, he was preparing to heal you when you unmuted to beg him for help in the sweetest voice. He smirked as he released the spell, effectively restoring your health and mana, allowing you to fire off your last two attacks, defeating the boss. He smiled to himself as he heard your sailor-mouthed victory chant. Browsing his inventory for his rarest extra weapon skin, he attached it to the friend request he sent you before logging off and heading to bed. He was overflowing with pride with himself for being able to send you a nice gesture, even if it was anonymously.

[jasperandhenryslovechild]

now that the shock of watching this trailer over and over and over again has worn down a tiny bit i need to ask, what the fuck is that hero costume and what does this mean for the preexisting canon dangerverse timeline

it is evident that these three costumes are NOT the same thing and it doesn't make me happy at ALL.

INDIVIDUAL BREAKDOWN/ELABORATION RAMBLE UNDER THE CUT

this one

is henry danger canon, like in the very last episode.

a muted version of the danger force canon one, with a fugly mustard hoodie with the strings tied so tight that it makes me question his breathing abilities and middle-schooler-who-just-discovered-what-mouse-is hair/j. he looks like he had to pull something together last minute unlike charlotte (curse me for cropping her out) who is literally THE COOLEST ONE HERE why is she not in the movie???? she is literally a fucking cyborg with purple hair someone explain this shit to me??? it's her superiority that allowed her to absolutely EAT THIS UP while henry looks like he just went dumpster diving

it's a vibe but it's also giving ramen noodles so im giving it a low 5/10 out of pity

danger force switches it up on us with this version

henry "we don't wear masks in dystopia, we're kinda above that" hart

this one is my favorite, it's cohesive and it goes together well. it's got the more grown hero vibe that ive always wanted to see in henry ESPECIALLY BECAUSE OF HIS GROWTH AS A CHARACTER!! THE RETURN OF THE KID EPISODE IS LITERALLY ALL ABOUT HOW FUCKING DIFFERENT HE IS AND IM HERE FOR IT SO HARD!!! i will absolutely drop a df henry hyper analysis some day but for now this is what we've got

the shades of burgundy and washed out red throw it together well and i can totally see an explanation behind this costume vs the old one being a simple upscale/revamp. that jacket has pockets to hide weaponry, leather would probably be a lot easier to take a tumble in (+ the knee guards not shown in this picture and like the plastic covers on the sides of his legs that i don't know the name of, implies that he takes enough hard falls to need protection in these areas!), it helps camouflage well in dystopia because the 2 seconds of clips we've seen of that place show that it's pretty dark despite its bright neon flashing lights that give it an evil sanfransokyo at night sort of vibe. it's superhero-y, but it also doesn't have all those staple childhood iconic hero things either— if anything he looks kinda ashamed to be in a superhero show and that's okay/j

overall, 10/10 because it has nothing to do with the capitan man/kid danger brand, it shows henry evolving beyond that point in his life into his own entity after being so soley dependent on ray for his entire previous career in superhero-ing

now to address this fucking monstrosity we were given just a few hours ago

i want to preface this by saying i am not ungrateful. the things i am about to say come from a place of pure dissatisfaction yet constructive criticism. ive been waiting years and years for this movie and i will literally take an hour and thirty minutes of jasper and henry twirling in a circle and make 183829992 edits of it i don't care, i love henry danger sm and the movie looks pretty cool

this being said

dear costume team of henry danger the movie,

have you ever watched henry danger and or danger force? do you even know what you're designing for? be honest, did the producers hand you this stock image

and tell you to make it mean? because every time i look at this costume there is something else wrong with it and it PAINS MY EYES. it makes him look like a cartoony ass space crusader instead of a hero fighting crime one of the most dangerous if not THE MOST DANGEROUS city in the world.

let's break this down, shall we? head to toe motherfuckers.

only not complaining about the hair and it being slicked in the same direction it used to be because it's consistent throughout the entire trailer (unlike SOME danger force episodes... cough cough return of the kid....cough cough.......)

that mask. firstly, i have issues with there being a mask at all, because danger force establishes that there are no masks in dystopia. nobody moves a finger to try and put on a mask, henry even fights SUNGLASSES. those sunglasses ray forces on him to hide his identity are brawled against, he's clearly grown out of masks. putting him back in one puts him back in that kid danger box he's been working hard to build up and out of, a concept established throughout the entire finale of henry danger and further reassured in danger force.

and if you were gonna inarguably give him a mask for simple minded audience recognition, nickelodeon, the least you could do was make it a PRETTY MASK. red was an.. okay choice for the base, but making the silver SURROUND IT? BLACK OUTLINE???? you're trying so hard to be new and cool and it is just painful on the eyes instead. the black eyeshadow under it makes him look like one of those 2020 emo dsmp cc edits and it's just like a throwback to an era nobody wants to go back to. that face card makes him looks like he listens to believer by imagine dragons while chewing that magic bubblegum. his lips are PALE, SOMEBODY GET THIS MAN SOME IRON— OH WAIT, THEY WASTED THEIR SUPPLY ON THIS NIGHT REFLECTIVE SILVER MAKEUP THAT MAKES HIM LOOK LIKE A STOP SIGN WITH A FLASHLIGHT UP IT'S ASSHOLE

then we move onto the base of the costume itself. firstly, the navy blue undershirt cut out to expose his neck says nothing to me. it does not make the statement you guys thought it would— in fact, it makes the whole thing look a pit incomplete? unkempt? it looks like theres something missing and with that black eyeshadow i think it's a thick silver chain SORRY IM DONE I'M OVER THE MASK

the vest over it gives me even more issues. you can't pull up with an audio of ray manchester going "you're not a sidekick anymore, you're a hero!!" and have THEIR FUCKING LOGO ON HIS CHEST. IT'S NOT RIGHT. ON TOP OF THE FACT THAT THE ENTIRE VEST IN AND OF ITSELF LOOKS LIKE IT WAS ROLLED IN DIRT AND HAS THE COLORATION PROPERTIES OF A DYING SEAL, THE LOGO BEING THERE AT ALL IS A MASSIVE ISSUE.

the entire POINT OF THE FINALE was that henry wanted to move on from his life as kid danger. he sacrificed himself and faked his entire death to thousands of people in order to become his own person. he had no life outside of crime fighting because he has no skills or traits outside of crime fighting— he gave up his entire childhood for it so naturally it's all he can gravitate to as he moves forward in dystopia. being a crime fighter once more is a punch in the face enough that he will never really escape who he once was despite the fact that HE GOT AWAY.

HE GOT AWAY.

in NO WORLD WOULD THE HENRY HART I KNOW AND LOVE PROUDLY WEAR THE SYMBOL OF THE VERY MAN THAT FAILED HIM. ray manchester failed him throughout his entire childhood— failed at giving him a normal kid life, failed at providing context and details before or even during the time he accepted the job— and yet here the movie is. he is wearing a rip off of his old costume in an attempt to leave behind who he was. that is ironic, that is HORRIBLE. because by putting him in this FUGLY ASS DOLLAR STORE COSTUME, not only are you retconning the evolution he's been working towards, you are denying him the right to become something greater than just kid danger

in the old costumes, the designs were different because he as a person was different. his entire character arc throughout the hd finale to now was just that, becoming different.

this is not different— this is just an older version of the ghost he's been leaving behind time and time again. dragging him back to his roots. there are millions of ways to drag him back to his roots in the movie itself because those roots will never free him, that is the entire point of him post henry danger and there's so many ways to show that. but changing his costume, one of the only parts of his new hero identity that he himself gets to choose, to resemble his old costume so similarly is just blatantly saying fuck you to the current dangerverse timeline and who that has made him out to be.

my final question is, what does that mean for everything else?

cause like, if the hd/df costumes are no longer a thing in the movie, what happened to them?? why did henry choose this bullshit over the FIREEE costumes in his past?? why would he ever do that to himself bro

and also BLACKOUT?? DO WE NOT GET AN EXPLANATION ON THAT???? BECAUSE EVEN NICKELODEON THEM FUCKING SELVES MADE A THEORY VIDEO ABOUT BLACKOUT BEING JASPER AND THEN WE PULL UP WITH THIS MOTHERFUCKER

LIKE GUYS I'M NOT GETTING IT ARE WE EVER GONNA GET AN EXPLANATION ON WHO BLACKOUT IS AND WHY HE WAS CAUGHT UP WITH HENRY— ALSO JASPER'S JUST TRANSFORMING RANDOMLY IN PUBLIC??? DOES THAT NOT NUKE THE ENTIRE PURPOSE OF HENRYS MASK?????

i do have very good things to say about this teaser, do not let your eyes deceive you, but i also have these complaints that i don't necessarily need answered if not I just need them to be heard

if you've made it this far thank you so much for coming to my insanely long ted talk

[creamsiclethighs]

Soft Yandere Dream Spirit

This was a rushed idea. I threw whatever was in my head down and did the bare minimum of editing, but I had a lot of fun writing it. Contains soft yandere themes, no sexual themes. Constructive criticism welcome. Your content consumption is your responsibility

They come to you through the Dreamscape

The Dreamscape connects every being capable of dreaming

Those that exist within take the forms they wish; a person, inanimate objects, landscapes, sometimes floating along the currents of emotion from the dreamer. Other times they lurk just outside on the precipice to observe

The more engaging spirits interact with the dreamers for their own purposes mimicking loved ones or familiar places. Some do so for fun, to send messages in symbolic forms or appear as nightmares to elicit strong emotions

This particular dream spirit happens upon you as it meanders between dreams. It sees you on an adventure experiencing high stakes in imaginative and unreal landscapes all with a smile and a light heart. The kind of dream you would surely wake from to remember fondly for a few days after

Your carefree attitude and joy brought forth a sense of warmth from somewhere within their formless being. Before deciding to enter your dream it molds itself into a human shape like those they observed with what they found to be an approachable face

And so the dream spirit joins you in your fun laughing and running alongside you for hours until the dream begins to shimmer and fade around its borders indicating the dreamer would soon wake up

Interacting with dreamers often leave dream spirits with a sense of fulfillment and joy, but with you it feels almost too strong. They find themselves impatiently searching for your dream again in hopes to experience that same wide smile and light-hearted laugh

Searching determinedly among countless dreams, and with a touch of luck, they find you again, though this dream is less exciting. They assume it is a reflection of your reality. They sense frustration and a touch of sadness within the dream

Seeing you like this won’t do, not when the two of you could be having fun together. Approaching your dream-self in their approachable form they twist the environment so it reflects where the two of you left off. Your smile slowly returns and they feel that same warmth spring up within them

Night after night you remember having the same dream, or at least it feels like the same one only stretched out, as though it were a never ending story You recall there being a presence with you, someone you can’t seem to picture in your mind. It doesn’t matter. The fun you two have is a great comfort and distraction from the daily grind

The dream spirit senses this- this happiness you exude being with them. And it wants to feel that feeling more. So much so they twist your dreams so that the two of you spend more time one-on-one rather than on your adventures. Not that you seem to mind

Your happiness only continues when you can only see this other person every night. They’re a perfect companion never tiring of listening to you, always there for you

Your happiness is all they want now, and no other dream can compare to their own happiness being with you

[thelongestway]

Had to edit a bit of detail in the previous chapters, because what I was going for with the extra hostile didn't quite work the way I wanted it to.

But honestly, that's not too important, because that's a minor detail, and I'm a lot more excited by the bigger ones I got to do here. So without further ado...

Chapter 38: Shadow

For a moment, I forgot that Iceblink wasn't a construct, and I sent her a Query: revival halt? at the same time as I released my diagnostics into the systems around Tal's pod. But she understood, and returned a 55 seconds! at just about the same time as I had data on the imminent pod failure.

Hostile Four's shot took out two critical power lines. If I could reconnect them, or plug in another power source in that time frame, the emergency revival procedure would be stopped. The problem was that after all the destruction, I couldn't see a viable power source anywhere in the vicinity. Except one.

Except me.

Iceblink, your priority is to evade hostiles until Hiram arrives, I said as I skidded a sharp turn into the cold sleep room. The only good thing about the emergency revival protocols was that I didn't have to bust down the door.

But Tal--

I've got kem, and I did. I had a full thirty seconds to open my energy weapon ports, and I'd done it in ten before. I was just glad it was two dead power lines and not three or four, so I didn't have to cut open my legs, which did not have energy weapons for easy access, and spread out across across the cold sleep box like the world's most fucked up starfish. (Thanks for that stupid fauna name, Sargasso.) But I did have to kneel behind the cold sleep pod with my arms connected into it, like I was carrying the dead tech.

Except I wasn't carrying kem anywhere. My movement radius would be restricted by the patch cord. All I'd have to support Iceblink were the cameras. And she had at least five hostiles to deal with, while Hiram's team was still an entire twelve minutes away.

Tal's chronostasis pod bit into me and I felt my muscles go weak and my processes become fuzzy. Performance reliability immediately dropped 15 percent, because that cold sleep box devoured power like a ravenous improbable worm devoured terrain on its way to a succulent client. I fought to optimize the drain and make sure my power cells lasted longer, so I missed an automated piece of system activating, and it unhelpfully and loudly announced POWER RESTORED. EMERGENCY REVIVAL HALTED to everyone in the area.

Hostile Leader took cover in a feed-cut lab, where Iceblink couldn't reach, and yelled, "What? How?", while looking up at the ceiling like she was still talking to an AI.

Wouldn't you like to know, you piece of rot. SecUnit, I'm going to try luring them to the lab directional EMP's, Iceblink said, and I saw her connecting to the Courageous' speakers.

Risk assessment told me that if she attracted their attention, then she was most likely dead. But these were her home systems, and if anyone knew how to use the terrain here, it would be her.

I gave Iceblink an approving ping and let her take the speakers.

"Congratulations, you fucking assholes, you just blew some power lines for a memorial to the Courageous' Emergency Crew," Iceblink said in a caustic fake voice. She was managing to pretend Tal was less important to her than ke was. (I knew why. Because that was private. The hostiles didn't get to have it.) "That chronostasis pod has been in operation for like one hundred years, so now we're extra pissed. Seriously, stand down. Last chance."

As Iceblink did that, Hostile Hacker tried to trace her access point. She slipped him a fake feed trail leading well away from her position, and he took the bait.

Hostile Point barrelled into the same safe room Hostile Leader was in and yelled, "Marten one, I don't think they're doing voices."

"I can hear that!" Hostile Leader snapped back. "Three, cut the cameras!"

"Nope," Iceblink said. "Screw you. We let you have those before to lure you in. Now you're done taking them."

"Damned bastards," Hostile Hacker snarled angrily, but I saw him quietly send the fake location to Hostile Leader. "They're good."

"And they wouldn't be talking to us and collapsing their own infrastructure if their friends were here." Hostile Leader said in her dead calm voice. "Four, Six, Seven, with me. Sweep the rings. Those fucking hackers are our ticket out."

Oh rot, she's calling in her backup group, Iceblink said quietly. Let's see how lucky we are.

We weren't. I processed the cameras and saw that while Hostile Leader and Hostile Four were moving towards the fake access point and a set of EMP's, Hostile Six and Hostile Seven emerged into visual range way too close to Iceblink and were moving exactly the wrong direction for her to get behind them. I sent Iceblink their positions and began calculating an exit route.

There wasn't a good one.

Iceblink lowered her trembling voice to a whisper. Can't move. They're too close.

She was right. We were going to have to hope they missed her as they passed by.

Through the cameras closest to Hostile Six and Seven, I heard characteristic whistles, and then explosions. Some of the screens went white, then came back online again. Flashbangs.

They're going to try to flush you out, I said. Take cover and don't move when the explosion comes. And don't talk. Not a sound. I'll tell you when they're gone.

Iceblink sent me an "understood" ping, and hunkered down behind a piece of furniture, covering her head and shivering. I checked the cameras to make sure she picked a good hiding place (she did) and sent her an approving tap.

We had no other choice, but I had a very, very bad feeling about this. Humans weren't good at staying still when there were explosions going off around them, so there was an eighty percent chance this was going to turn into the exact kind of very shitty hostage situation Hiram's team wasn't trained for. The twenty percent were more than I usually gave for this sort of thing. Because maybe, just maybe, Iceblink played Tal's shitty hacker game enough to sit still when there were real hostiles hunting for her and not just people going about their day, and to stay quiet even when there were grenades going off around her. Maybe it would be enough to beat the odds.

I didn't think it would. But I really hoped my analytics were wrong right now.

My internal diagnostics threw a warning, and I realized the pod had eaten through about twenty percent of my available power reserves already, and that my performance reliability was at 70 percent. At this rate, it would leave me dry long before help could come. And running out of power mid-combat scenario because you fed all of it to a dead person would be such a fucking stupid way to go into an emergency shutdown.

Through the patch cord, I told the dead tech: Stop sucking so much, you stupid dead idiot!

(Yeah. I know that sounded stupid. I just needed some way to flush the stress chemicals quicker, because together with the power drain wooziness they really weren't helping, and according to Bharadwaj, expressing your emotions helped with that. And since Tal was supposed to be a good rubber ducky, maybe ke'd be good at stress chemicals, too. So I watched the hostiles slowly moving closer to Iceblink, which I couldn't do anything about except track their positions and keep Hiram updated, and kept talking to one fucked up dead human in a box.)

Platonically. Literally. Whatever. You're eating the processing power I need to give Iceblink and Hiram data, and they need that data so they don't die! So either suck less, or get up from your fucking cold sleep box and help us!

And look. Tal was dead. I wasn't expecting anything to happen. I was just trying to squeeze maybe one percent more processing power out of my shitty organic parts and their stupid chemicals.

But after about five seconds of silence two things happened, mostly at the same time. (Which obviously had nothing to do with me talking to a stupid dead hacker. I knew that.)

First, ART suddenly gave me about 10 percent of its processing power. Which meant it now had the resources to follow up on us and saw I needed help. I could suddenly think at full capacity again, even through the power drain.

And second, something weak and flickering slithered into the ring feed, pushing itself through every single insignificant link it could find just to gain a little more access to the airgapped area. It latched onto Iceblink with her barely-connected terminal, Tal's power lines, my outputs, and the myriad broken, mostly autonomous systems with threadbare patches between them and bone-thin connections that I'd thought were too small to support anything useful.

I was very wrong.

What crawled in on razor-sharp leaves was much smaller than I remembered, and bled so much dizziness, disorientation, and terror that I didn't know how it still had any performance reliability remaining, much less how that performance reliability was steadily and slowly rising as it coalesced in the CR3 feed. But when Aspen turned to me with a barely coherent Query: Status?, I knew exactly what helped them keep it together.

It was the coldest, sharpest intent to kill I'd ever felt in my life.

[jayywren]

⏤ ✦ roomies

genre: fluff, headcannons, platonic wordcount: 0.5K pairing: Niki Nihachu x afab!reader pronouns: you/yours other: college!au, gender neutral warnings: brief talk of periods summary: headcannons & a small imagine about having Niki as a roommate thorn's notes: originally posted 18/Oct/2022; edited

⏤ return to old posts masterlist

⏤ ✦ Niki is so sweet. she will always be there to comfort you and make sure you're taking care of yourself.

⏤ ✦ likewise you're always there to make sure she's looking after herself in return.

⏤ ✦ if you ever need an assignment or essay proofread, Niki is always happy to go through it for you, even is she doesn't really understand your major. and vise versa with you proofing Niki's work and providing any constructive criticism where necessary.

⏤ ✦ Niki would be the best at helping you through a breakup. she'd be there with ice cream, chocolates, drinks, chick flicks and lots of tissues. similarly you'd always be there to comfort her if she went through a bad break up.

⏤ ✦ gossiping together about people on campus (crushes, people you dislike, teachers, etc.)

⏤ ✦ she would always have spare pads/tampons (which ever you use) on hand so neither of you were never without any.

⏤ ✦ on days where neither of you have anything going on, you'd have pamper days together; doing skin care, make up, painting each other's nails and testing hairstyles.

⏤ ✦ dragging each other along to parties and other off-campus activities.

⏤ ✦ mandatory movie nights at least once a week together, no matter what else is going on.

✦ You were struggling with an assignment that your teacher had set a few days ago. It wasn't anything particularly difficult by any means, you just didn't know how to convey your thoughts into coherent words and it was stressing you out. It wasn't due for a while but you'd already been putting it off for too long, but as you sat staring at the screen a soft knock came at your door. "Come in!" you called out. Niki entered and asked, "Hey, I was wondering if you were coming for movie night?". Movie night, of course. With your head consumed by thoughts of homework you'd practically forgotten about the weekly movie night you had with Niki. You glanced over your shoulder at your work and the few meager sentences that you'd managed to write. A debate began to form in your mind; you didn't want to skip on the tradition you and Niki had formed, but you also really wanted to make some headway with your homework. Niki seemed to be able to sense your dilemma. Walking across to you, she peered at your computer screen, "You know," she smiled, "sometimes it's good to have a break from working, then you can come back to it with a clear head and in a more productive mood." You had to admit that there was truth in what she said and movie night did sound like a good break from the stresses of school work. So turning back around, you quickly saved your work before letting Niki drag you from your room and into the living room where there was a stack of movies waiting to be watched.

[brickcentral]

🤩 ARTIST SPOTLIGHT: @mumubrix Hello everyone! It's time to direct the spotlight toward our community members, and today we will get to know better @mumubrix!

"Hi my name is Angel and I’ve been learning photography since January of 2021. Mumubrix is my social media name. Mumu is a Filipino (Tagalog) word for GHOST which is one of my favorite subjects.

I would say that my style is leaning more towards incorporating emotions to my photos. Different kinds of emotions. I also like to add mist, rain, water as much as I can. My favorite subject are animals and spooky minifigs though I am confident to say that I am versatile with my photography. It all depends on my mood.I have a journal where I write my ideas, because I can't draw, and have been building more recently. Building bricks have been such a stress reliever and is a great mental challenge for me. It is great to just build, break it apart and rebuild something else. I get a lot of new ideas from daily experiences, interesting conversations with strangers and just sheer imagination.I also enjoy harsh lights and shadows. I love the shadows, it's art in itself. Being able to learn photography and manipulating light is magic!

This is my basic gear. I cannot live without a tripod, I have the very basic tripod you can find from Amazon and the pocket size for low angle photos. I mainly use this lamp for main light and use a flash and a pocket mist for added "effects". I use a Canon EOS M50 mirrorless camera with a TT artisan macro lens. Everything here stays in my backpack except the tripod and the table lamp. If I want to make something float, I use the instant, the wire and the clamp to hold it, I also use the clamp to hold a piece of cardboard for bouncing the lights. I use the soldering hands if I need more floating pieces or if it’s a but windy outside. I have 2 more led lights that aren’t in this photo but I mainly use it if I take photos indoors.

My #1 challenge is my lack of knowledge about photography, light,compositions. All I have is my story and that's all I needed because I found this great community where people help and teach each other. I was using my phone to take photos before and I really thought they were great but thankfully, the constructive criticisms are there to steer me back to the correct path. Not knowing what looks good to begin with was the first challenge I had to break.

The #2 is my gear. I was learning through tips and tricks from Brickcentral and videos from Four Bricks Tall but there are just some things that a phone camera can't do like achieving that good Depth of field, catching those beautiful misty light and shadows without it looking flat. Or just being able to focus on one subject without having to blur everything in the background using an editing software. That's when I knew I had to upgrade and I'm so happy I did.

And #3 is my fear of getting ignored by the algorithm. I have always been someone to question rules and limitations and that makes me tend to experiment quite a lot. I enjoy creating photos that are not mainstream like Happy Happy photos or character photos. I enjoy creating mysterious ones or emotional ones where real people can relate. I enjoy self-expression. And yet social platforms made me wonder some time ago if I'm doing the right thing, or that maybe I should follow what everyone else is doing so people can like my photos more. In other words, I became a "photo people pleaser". I got burnt out after a month and stopped taking photos. Then I realized that my photography makes me happy, and it should make me happy. Not the other way around.

My goal is to help anyone who is wiling to learn about photography. I have been blessed to be taught so much by this community and would like to return it to the world. I believe that art is innate and it is in everything and that you just have to tap in the right kind of art, the right people to give you good direction and the patience to learn.

For the community: Many thanks for all the patience and the tips, tricks and advice that the mods and everyone else share. Remember that you don't need a lot of things to start, just the willingness to learn and the realization that you can do it too. You just have to keep on practicing, go out and take photos, just go and do it and ask for feedback. You need feedback."

Thank you for accepting our invitation and let the community knows you better!

If you want some insights on the exclusive picture and for a better view of the others, head to our blog at https://brickentral.net/.

- @theaphol, Community Outreach Manager

[muldoonlives]

"He has your eyes..."

This morning I decided to watch a fan edit of scenes from "Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines". It featured a deepfake of Edward Furlong as John Connor. The commenters raved about how his image being included made such an improvement.

The last two films have gone unwatched by me. That doesn't mean I never will see them. I'm also a fan of Edward Furlong, but that doesn't mean it bums me out when he hasn't returned to play John Connor. As I tracked the IMDB page for "Terminator 3" during pre-production, the removal of his name from the credits was a disappointment but not a shock. I was aware of Edward's hard lifestyle, and I realized it would cost him opportunites. After Nick Stahl was selected to be John Connor, my mood perked up. Much like Edward, I saw a small amount of his work prior to T3, but I respected his acting abilities. In recent years, Nick has come forward about his past problems with addiction. These problems lasted years before and after T3. The only difference was Nick avoided legal trouble at the time while Edward did not.

My chance to see the film came during a matinee a week after it was released. T3 was decent enough to not be deemed a waste of time and money. It was less intense and memorable as T2, but I expected it to be. John Connor's place in life post-T2 was something I was eager to see. He became a self-medicating construction worker who lived in seclusion. A realistic outcome for a kid who experienced what he did and raised the way he was. People say they want a movie to be realistic, but if turns out to be, they usually complain about how depressing it was. Well, life is depressing the vast majority of the time.

John's personality change has always been under attack, and Nick Stahl gets blamed. If Edward Furlong was allowed to keep the job, the complaints about John being a whiner would still happen. "Edward Furlong is nothing but annoying in this third entry of the series." Thankfully, there have been a few critics out there who had the sense to know it was the writers at fault. Even better some have agreed the writers weren't wrong at all. In the opening sequence, John spoke on how Judgment Day never occurred. He saw no need in keeping leadership skills finely tuned. This mindset allowed John to become haunted by the past. It also left him vulnerable when he learned the hard way that Judgment Day was inevitable.

Fan edits can be quite interesting. Deepfakes are pointless to me though. It was Nick Stahl's movements and voice. Of course, Edward Furlong's reactions and tones would differ if he won the role. Those two things would not have changed the quality of T3. His lines and actions would be the same. He would be the same "whiner" many fans couldn't stand. The future's not set. The past is. A 2003 film is the past.

[urbantots]

Metal car toys wholesaler and distributor

Childhood is a time of imagination, curiosity, and discovery—and toys play an essential role in shaping these experiences. Among the many toy varieties available today, metal car toys continue to be a timeless favorite. With their realistic design, durability, and endless play possibilities, these toys capture the attention of kids and even toy collectors alike.

As demand grows, retailers and small toy businesses are constantly on the lookout for reliable suppliers to stock quality products. This is where the role of a metal car toys wholesaler and distributor becomes critical. If you're a retailer or someone who deals in toys for kids, understanding the value and benefits of sourcing from a dependable distributor can give your business a significant edge.

Why Are Metal Car Toys Still So Popular?

Metal car toys are not just another category of playthings—they are cherished collectibles and childhood essentials that offer:

1. Durability

Unlike plastic alternatives, metal car toys are built to last. The sturdy metal body ensures the toy withstands rough handling, making it a long-term companion for children.

2. Realistic Details

From polished paint jobs to rubber wheels and detailed interiors, metal car toys often mimic real-life automobiles with astonishing precision. This realism adds to the appeal, making them ideal for imaginative play and educational purposes.

3. Skill Development

Playing with toy cars promotes motor skills, spatial awareness, and hand-eye coordination in children. It also enhances creative thinking and storytelling as kids create their own little traffic-filled adventures.

Choosing the Right Metal Car Toys Distributor or Wholesaler

If you’re planning to start a toy business or expand your inventory, partnering with the right metal car toys distributor or wholesaler is essential. Here's what you should look for:

1. Wide Product Range

An experienced wholesaler offers a variety of metal toy cars—from vintage models and sports cars to construction vehicles and emergency response units. This ensures you cater to the preferences of a broad audience.

2. Quality Assurance

A trusted metal car toys wholesaler ensures every item meets safety standards, uses child-friendly paint, and provides solid construction. Safety is non-negotiable when it comes to toys for kids.

3. Affordable Pricing

Bulk purchasing from a reliable distributor should offer competitive pricing without compromising on quality. This benefits both retailers and customers.

4. Timely Delivery and Packaging

Consistent delivery timelines and well-packed items reduce damage risk and keep your supply chain running smoothly. Professional distributors always maintain high standards in logistics.

5. Customization and Branding Options

Some top distributors even allow for branding support, giving businesses the chance to market toys under their own label.

Trends in Metal Toy Cars

The toy market constantly evolves, and metal car toys are no exception. Here are some of the current trends:

Die-Cast Cars with Opening Doors and Lights Enhanced features like lights, sound effects, and moveable parts are increasingly popular among kids and collectors.

Licensed Models Cars modeled after popular brands like BMW, Mercedes, Lamborghini, or even characters from animated series are in high demand.

Eco-Friendly Packaging Many metal car toys wholesalers are switching to sustainable packaging to align with growing eco-consciousness.

Collectible Series Limited-edition collections or themed sets appeal not only to children but also to adult hobbyists.

Benefits of Working with a Local Distributor

While importing might seem like an economical choice, working with a local metal car toys distributor offers several benefits:

Faster Delivery Time

No Customs Hassles

Easier Communication

Consistent Supply Chain Support

Trusted Returns and Replacement Policy

By sourcing from a reliable domestic partner, businesses avoid logistical nightmares and focus more on growth and customer satisfaction.

Why Retailers Trust Urban Tots

When it comes to sourcing toys for kids, Urban Tots stands out as a trusted name in the industry. As a recognized metal car toys wholesaler and distributor, the brand is committed to offering:

Premium Quality Products – Made with top-grade metal and vibrant, child-safe paint.

Variety & Innovation – A large catalog of classic, modern, and interactive car toys.

Ethical Business Practices – Transparent pricing, timely delivery, and professional service.

Strong Supply Network – Efficient distribution channels across major cities and towns in India.

Whether you’re a small toy store, an e-commerce seller, or a reseller looking to enter the toy business, Urban Tots offers the reliability and variety you need to grow your offerings and delight your customers.

Final Thoughts

In today’s toy market, quality and trust matter as much as variety. Partnering with an experienced metal car toys distributor can give your business the boost it needs. With growing awareness among parents about product safety and durability, metal toy cars remain a steady favorite in the world of toys for kids.

If you're looking for a metal car toys wholesaler who brings excellence, innovation, and trust to the table—Urban Tots is the name to remember.

Explore our wide range of toy vehicles and experience the difference with Urban Tots!

Originally Published at: https://www.urbantots.in/blog/metal-car-toys-wholesaler-and-distributor

[timeforbedwolfstar]

Okay, y’all… let’s do this one more time.

This is the heavily edited version of Finding Home, because I disliked my original work so I decided to reboot it and make it better. So. I hope y’all like this one, and let me know what you think.

Constructive criticism is helpful, but not as it pertains to my storyline. Any grammar, word usage, or other ways to make my writing better, not my story.

Thank you all so very much, and I hope y’all enjoy!

Finding Home - Chapter 1

One day, it occurred to me that the moving things I had to push out of the way and fight for the rich, warm, life-giving milk were my siblings. I cannot express my disappointment enough. 

The day I realized this was the day my blurry eyes opened. As my mother, a pure-black dog with pointed ears, blue eyes, and a thick, double coat, licked my teeny body with her warm pink tongue, I blinked up at her, trying to both clear my foggy eyes and beseech her to get rid of my siblings. I wanted her all to myself, now and forever. 

It didn’t happen, and it did no good to dwell on a dream. 

As my sight cleared, I grudgingly accepted the others’ presence in the nest. Which was just as well — they were fun to play with when sleeping got boring or I needed someone to chew on. 

The first time I tottered out from the warmth of Mother, my paw pads came into a rough, scratchy surface. Several steps later, the rough surface gave way to a surface soft and rough at the same time. It smelled very, very good. 

Utterly confused, I tried to return to Mother, but I was disoriented from exploring and I yelped with fear. Sharp teeth clamped down on the scruff of my neck, and I whined in pain. But I was returned to Mother’s warmth, which seemed like the important thing. I buried myself under a sister and fell asleep. 

I had learned the hard way that I couldn’t return to Mother without her, so the second I woke up from my nap I left her again. She sighed deeply as she set me down, but I could sense that she liked my adventurous spirit. 

There was a man who came by our kennel every day. He had a mop of sandy brown hair on his head, deep amber-gold eyes, and scars crossing his hands and face. Some days he entered the kennel and looked us over, running his hands down our backs and talking to us. Other days, he stood just outside it, strange dogs lashed to his waist, checking something off on a thin slab of wood. The black belt he wore had two rings on its front, and dog leashes extending from each one, ending on the dogs’ collars or harnesses. 

From the moment I was old enough to see him clearly for the first time, I was mesmerized by the man. I longed to be one of the dogs by his side, going who knows where and loving every second of it. I longed to feel his hand in my fur every single day for the rest of my life. There was a reason I loved him so much. I could feel it deep inside my tiny body. 

As a result, every day, I was the first puppy at the kennel door whenever I so much as smelled him, and the last one to leave after he was gone. The days he didn’t enter the kennel were the worst days of my life. 

As we entered that stage of life where we never wanted to be near Mother yet always wanted her around, the man began to let us out of the kennel for short periods. 

Directly in front of our kennel was a long stretch of grass that I mentally called the Yard. The Yard was grassy and full of excellent smells, which made me jump inside whenever I smelled the man over them. We had a full run over the Yard despite what seemed like hundreds of other dogs’ smells. 

A chain-link fence divided the Yard into two parts. On our side, it was Mother, my three brothers, and my four sisters. On the other side, it was what looked like hundreds of dogs, each of them resembling each other in build and general looks, but each of them being completely different. Some of them had lots of black and very little white. Others had lots of white and very little black. A few were a pale, creamy white colour. One of them, who I determined through careful examination to be the Top Dog, was light red-brown with thick strokes of deep red on his shoulders and topline. 

Every day after we were let out into the Yard, the man would enter our kennel, clip a leash onto Mother’s collar, and hold her back while he let us run free in the Yard. When we had finished feeding on the soft goop he brought us as food, he would let her run free with us. 

As the days stretched into weeks, he began to lead Mother out of the Yard and let her roam in the Big Yard. The first time this happened, we ran like mad on our side of the fence while Mother reacquainted herself with the pack. As this happened more often, we began to not care. 

We didn’t notice when Mother never returned. 

The man seemed to like me more than my siblings. He always called me “Prongs,” as if that was a special word I was meant to respond to. The name felt natural and familiar, and as the weeks stretched into months, I grew so used to the sound that I turned toward him every single time my sharp ears heard it. 

The snow we had grown so used to seeing over the course of our short lives was beginning to melt the day everything changed. 

The Man, as I had mentally deemed him, entered the Yard with a collar and leash in hand. The collar was nylon, and fit close to my neck. He had a stiff leash in his other hand, which, after sliding the collar over my head and adjusting it to fit my neck, he snapped on to lead me away from my siblings. 

They rushed the fence after The Man closed the gate. In hindsight, I suppose this was good — perhaps if they had escaped that day, I would have never learned where I stood with this man. 

Or how much he would mean to me in the end. 

The Man turned his back on the other puppies, and I felt the collar and leash shift to match his position. I didn’t move until the pressure on my neck increased, and I adjusted my body to relieve the pressure. 

“Good boy, Prongs,” The Man said instantly, offering me a hard nibble of food. I took it carefully, tail wagging. It banged against the chain link fence, but I didn’t mind. 

I loved the way this man said “Prongs,” oddly soothing in ways I could never begin to put words to. I had been hearing him speak my entire life, and yet it was only now that I realized just how much he already meant to me. 

The Man’s hand brushed my nose as he moved it for another treat, and though I knew his scent by heart, I sniffed it anyway. 

It smelled so familiar, yet foreign at the same time. 

It smelled of dog, of blood and teeth and pain. 

Of friendship, and love, and terrible, terrible sacrifice. 

Of a boy I had known, perhaps in another life. 

But that was impossible. 

Over the next few days, this training progressed. From standing at his side, with no leash pressure between us, I graduated to walking slowly across an empty, grassy plain — his Yard, I guessed. I learned Heel, which meant to stay by his side, not too far back, and not too far forward. My forepaws even with his legs. My body in tune with his. Partnership. 

And then, one day, the game changed. The Man took another dog out from the Big Yard, the reddish brown Top Dog, the same one who’d dominated Mother that first day she’d returned to the pack. 

This dog was named Thor. Remus told him to Heel, then led him to my Yard, where I sat waiting. Remus slipped a harness over my head, putting my paws through it, and pulling the material tight against my back. Thor watched, a bored look on his face. 

Remus clipped a leash to the back of my new harness, and taught me to walk calmly by his left side, even as another dog — a distraction — was on my left. I learned to ignore Thor, all snapping teeth and aggressive demeanor. He didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. 

And then, one day, the game changed again. Thor and I were snapped together by our collars, Remus behind us, and I was taught the command “line out”. Thor, apparently, already knew it — I just copied whatever he did and got rewarded. 

The new command was only ever used in harness. I learned to employ the pressure in the harness whenever I heard “Line Out”. It became so natural for me to do it, like I’d been doing it my whole life. (Which, in a way, I had, but I didn’t think about that. Such Deep Thoughts were not for a dog to think about.) 

The day my brother was taken, everything changed once again. 

Looking back on that day, it wasn’t his fault. The Man had been training him as diligently as he was training me. If anything, it was The Lady’s fault. 

Every so often, new people would come to The Man’s house. These people would pace around our Yard, examining the dogs in the Big Yard. Some dogs were shut up in their kennels, while others were let out in the Big Yard. Sometimes dogs left, and sometimes dogs didn’t. 

The ones that left never came back. 

The first few times they came, my siblings were among those paraded out for the visitors to look at. Eventually, they were kenneled with me and we were taken to a place that reeked of chemicals, and for days afterward I was forced to wear a stupid, flimsy plastic collar and my lower belly hurt terribly. My brothers and sisters, fortunately, all suffered the same treatment that I did, and we were all relinquished by the terrible pain soon afterwards. 

The people would admire us, and sometimes certain dogs — sometimes older, with creaky limbs and grey muzzle hairs, but usually young, with springy steps and life-filled eyes — were taken out of their kennels and paraded around by The Man. It never crossed my mind that my siblings would be taken, even as they slowly joined the dogs being shown off. 

The Lady pulled up in a blue pickup truck. She and The Man stood outside the sheltered portion of our kennels, watching as me and my siblings played. 

Over the course of our short lives, we had grown bigger. We were nearly half the size of most of the adult dogs, slowly gaining their muscle and strength. Thor was beginning to see me as a partner in our training sessions, and The Man was beginning to add a new concept to the game the three of us played. 

The Lady watched the eight of us playing, talking softly with The Man. I approached the two of them cautiously, my tail low and wagging. The Lady made soft cooing noises at me, and my ears pinned. What did she think she was doing? 

The Man laughed and said, “He’s not for sale.” 

The Lady frowned, standing up and crossing her arms. “Whyever not?” 

The Man laughed again. “I keep at least one dog from each litter, and he’s the most promising as a sire. I’m keeping him. But I’m selling the others.” 

They talked for several more minutes, and finally he and The Lady came to an agreement. The Man entered the Yard, slipping a collar around my brother Koda’s neck and leading him out to give to The Lady. 

“I have high hopes for this one, Remus,” The Lady said as she took Koda’s leash. My brother and I exchanged final sniffs through the fence dividing us. “Thank you.” 

“My pleasure,” The Man — Remus, she’d called him — said, locking the Yard’s gate. “Koda’s a good dog. You’ll be pleased with him, I reckon.” 

The Lady left after a time, taking Koda with her. I watched her blue truck leave from the Yard I’d spent my life in, and I felt a pang of grief for my brother. Me and Koda, only six months old, driven apart by mankind. 

I decided I disliked that lady now. 

Koda wasn’t my only sibling to leave. Eventually, I was the only dog in the Yard, all of my siblings — Koda, Buckeye, Alice, Buddy, Liberty, Mocha, and Sasha — having been sold to strangers I never saw again. 

I hope they lived as good a life as I had done. 

Remus continued in my training, teaching me a series of commands that I began to adore, as they brought me my favorite pastime — running. 

Thor and I slowly molded into a team, and by the time my first birthday came around, I was hooked up to a sled team for the first time. 

Snow lay thick on the ground, and I had spent the better part of the day watching Remus harness various dogs to a contraption he called the sled. 

I was harnessed in place next to Thor, at the top of the ten-dog team. Remus was standing on the sled, far behind us, and each dog in the team was pulling at their tug lines and barking in excitement. 

I licked my nose, tail wagging. Beside me, Thor was happier than I’d ever seen him, tail high and waving like a flag. 

“Ready?!” Remus called out, and Thor jumped into his harness, pulling the tug line taut. I followed suit, panting hard with contagious excitement. 

“HIKE!” Remus shouted, and the entire team — myself included — took off running, tails high, barking madly with excitement.  

We ran for only half an hour, but it was the best half an hour of my short life. When it was over, I danced with pride when Remus came to remove me from the team. 

“You liked that, Prongs, didn’t you?” Remus asked me excitedly, laughing as I jumped up to lick his face. “Yeah, you did. Good boy. Good boy.” 

I was a good boy, but I was also something even better. 

I was a sled dog. 

“And if you were lucky enough to know a great one, they never really leave. Harnessed to your heart, giving their all.” 

— Leonhard Seppala, “Togo”, 2019

[wanderingsoul-01]

Hold On Authors Note

Hello to any soul who made the decision to give this fic a chance and thank you. This is my first time writing a fic but when I ran out of Tokyo revengers content to read I figured I would try my hand.

Note to self: even if it is bad chances are that someone will enjoy it :)

Anyway, this story will contain several different sensitive topics including Death of a parent, childhood abuse/Neglect and SA either implied or detailed. I will do my best to put trigger warnings where they are necessary so that you may skip those parts of the story. If I happen to miss an area that should contain a trigger warning please don't hesitated to leave a comment and let me know.

All characters are aged up about 2 years, so they are closer to high school age than middle school. At the moment I do not plan for there to be any smut but there will still be romance, tension and steamy moments.

My hope for this fic is to follow most of the major canon events (fights and such) but the details and outcomes will diverge. I am planning for this fic to be rather long and have serval different paths planned out but we will see which one Dakota decides to take. As my name suggest I am very indecisive so chapters may be edited after they are posted. I expect it will mainly be the first few since the beginning is the hardest for me but I will put a note in the next chapter if the previous one has been edited or revised. I am on the hunt for a beta reader to help with that as well so if you are interested leave a comment :)

Summary:

Dakota Satomi returns to Tokyo after traveling abroad. Her homecoming is bittersweet, as she is tentatively hoping to mend the fractured relationships she left behind before the clock on her freedom runs out. Her main priority is tracking down her half-brother but in the process she makes some new friends and reunites with an old childhood friend who she walked away from years ago. When these relationships drag her into the world of delinquent gangs will she be able to keep up and make a difference or will she become another piece of collateral damage?

Don't forget to leave a comment to let me know your thoughts, predictions or constructive criticism! Okay enough of my rambles, click to the next chapter and start reading.

[nixkarosewoods]

Crashed Into Your World - Poe Dameron x OC

Hey so this is just the start (kinda introduction) of the first part of a fic I'm attempting to actually finish this time. Titles of chapters and some sentences will probably be changed/edited later.

Summary: Erika, a commander in the Air Force in what we can assume is World War 3. Sent on a suicide mission with her squadron by her step-father, the General, she and her squadron end up crashing into a lake that transports them to the Star Wars universe.

Constructive criticism is always welcome!

Warnings: Swearing, will have some suggestive themes/nsfw later, main character has some trauma that will be talked about in later chapters (SA, abuse, her step-father sending her to die), Star Wars violence, will be a somewhat enemies to friends to lovers.

Word Count: 450ish

Chapter 1: The Light

It was stupid, so fucking stupid. A suicide mission. Not even one that would help win the war. He knew what he was doing when assigning this mission and Erika knew it. Of course her step-father, the General, had sent her and her squadron on a suicide mission. If she died, he could technically have claim to her inheritance from her mother. So now he had sent some of his best pilots to die, to fight one last time, incredibly outnumbered with no chance of returning at all. It pissed her off to no end, that it wasn’t only her, but her squadron that would suffer as well. 

“We’re almost there. Be prepared for them to fire as soon as we’re in sight” Erika spoke over the comms system. 

“Roger that, Commander. Anyone up for drinks after this?” Oakley replied.

Erika sighed, knowing that wouldn’t be happening, but Zara cut in with a “you paying?” before she could say anything. Really, she wouldn’t have said anything anyways. There’s no sense telling a bunch of 18-20 year old's that this is a suicide mission, they already knew that anyways and were simply trying to lighten the mood. 

It wasn’t two minutes later that Alec shouted “Kieran on your left!”

But it was too late, in a split second, Kieran's plane was shot down in flames. She heard the screams of her squadron but couldn’t bring herself to say anything. It was her fault after all, her step-father that did this. As they closed in on the other planes, Erika’s eyes widened at the sheer amount of them, at least ten for every one of them. It happened quicker than any of them could react, the others shooting them down. When she saw Liliana’s plane burst into flames, she finally screamed. And that one moment she let herself have, was her downfall. Her plane had been hit, the systems blaring alarms for her to eject herself. Erika pulled at the eject lever but it wouldn’t budge. She’d be going down with her plane. Her step-father would finally get what he’d always wanted.

She spotted Alec’s plane still in the air, “I’ve been hit! Alec take over command now! I’m so sorry for bringing everyone into this, I’m so-” her voice was cut off as her plane plunged into the lake below. 

Erika had always expected that drowning would be painful, an intense burning with immense panic as your lungs filled with water, but as soon as she hit the water and her plane began to fill up, there was a blinding flash of light that rippled through the whole lake and all Erika felt was cold as the light hit her and she closed her eyes.

[tiredelirium]

D.3

Working retail is a chore, the good and the bad.

Overbearing bosses. Challenging customers. Reluctant colleagues.

When the crowds are dead it really feels like you’re wasting your time. When the crowds are constant it feels like time doesn’t exist.

I found this all out in my first job. After a year of looking for jobs, I finally had a chance with my aims being so low as to look for temporary roles. A Christmas gig. The job was simple and complicated all in all. A learning process, but I was, at the very least, always a person who learned best by doing and was good with my hands.

Mistakes were made along the way as always, but they were few and far between. Whatever the case, the temporary role got turned into a call back, albeit ending rather unfortunately in the January.

To celebrate a successful Christmas sales period, our store as a top performing store got to go to a hotel for a meal and to receive an award from the top brass of the region. Despite being a Christmas temp I got invited to come along too and I did. After not drinking for about a year I ended up pretty drunk pretty quickly, but, I guess thankfully, I was more of a somber drunk than an over the top one.

We had rooms in the hotel, but went out for a few more drinks in town first, played some snooker, wandered a frigid night. I gave my jacket away to one of my colleagues who lacked a coat, and after a few hours we all returned to the hotel. Some had work in the morning, including the lad I was roomed with, who chose to get a taxi to his place rather than sleep at the hotel.

I stayed the night, and slept pretty soundly in my drunkeness, with a pretty decent room to myself.

I still wonder from time to time though. It might be all the romance literature and media I’ve slowly consumed all the years, but doesn’t that kind of night feel like the kind of night where someone single should’ve been up to no good? Yet there I was, room to myself sleeping the early morning away.

Come the next week I started to get sick. I’ve never really had hangovers, so I knew something was wrong a few days later when after work I’d lost all energy. I basically collapsed at home and was out like a light for an entire night into day. When I woke up every muscle in my body ached, my head screamed at me, I had no appetite at all, and could barely talk. It was like my throat had had a million tiny razors carved down it.

After four days of whatever the hell that was, the motionless me developed another issue, and I was forced to call in sick again, visiting the GP over the issue. Since I was a temp my manager let me have those days with holiday pay, as my contract was going to end soon anyway. I never got a ‘last day’ of temp work as a result.

After just shy of a month, I was finally more or leas back on my feet again, though the second issue i’d developed was still such. And around the same time my manager contacted me to offer me a permanent position, though it was only part time.

But that was better work offer than I’d had for over a year and a half, so, naturally, I agreed to take the job.

I guess that goes to show despite my own opinions of myself and my ineptitudes, others saw me as reliable. Or maybe they just wanted the extra staff.

I started working there full time, albeit only a handful of days a week, and got to learning more processes. The online training side of things was annoying, if only because it was poorly constructed and mandatory by the company. Unskippable powerpoints, poorly edited training videos, questionnaires with multiple answers yet no way to verify which questions had the multiple answers option or were just singular. Bad design all over the place.

Sorry. Critic in me.

Anyway, I got to know the staff there more. Saw some of the temps not get a call back, and hear reasons why for the most part. And that was it, my first job, and the one i’m still doing close to five years later at this point.

I still don’t know what sickness I got, but considering it was early 2020, end of January, and what would come later for us all, every one i’ve mentioned it to has said the same; “Probably a Covid variant.”

And so life went on. Though I moved through it a bit like a ghost. I don’t really interact with people outside work.

One of the unfortunate truths of going to a university so far from home, is that maintaining friendships from back home becomes that much harder. And I was never good at that to begin with.

If someone doesn’t reach out to you that just means they were never interested in staying friends to begin with.

Thats been the truth for me in the first third of my lifespan.

Work hasn’t changed, in fact, in a way it’s gotten worse. My desire to do other things only grows as the stagnation of the day to day maintains its course. Yet, my previous failings wane all ambition from me at the same time.

In a war of apathy and desire, which do you think should rightly win out?

[jade-malay]

Jade Malay's 4 Mastering Tips To The Art of Self-Editing

Self-editing is an essential skill for any writer, allowing you to refine your work and polish it to perfection before sharing it with the world. Renowned author and writing mentor Jade Malay shares her four mastering tips for mastering the art of self-editing, empowering writers to elevate their craft and produce their best work.

1. Take a Break Before Editing

After completing a writing session, resist the urge to dive straight into editing. Instead, give yourself some distance from your work by taking a break. Stepping away allows you to return to your writing with fresh eyes and a clear mind, making it easier to identify areas that need improvement. Whether it's a few hours, days, or even weeks, giving yourself time away from your work can make a world of difference in your ability to self-edit effectively.

2. Read Aloud for Clarity and Flow

Reading your work aloud is one of the most effective ways to identify awkward phrasing, clunky sentences, and pacing issues. Jade Malay recommends reading your writing aloud to yourself or having someone else read it to you. Pay attention to how the words sound and the rhythm of the sentences. If something feels off or doesn't flow smoothly, make note of it and revise accordingly. Reading aloud can also help you catch typos, grammatical errors, and inconsistencies that may have slipped through the cracks.

3. Focus on One Element at a Time

When editing your work, it's easy to become overwhelmed by the sheer number of things that need attention. To avoid feeling overwhelmed, Jade Malay advises writers to focus on one element at a time. Start by addressing big-picture issues like plot holes, character development, and pacing before moving on to smaller details like sentence structure, word choice, and punctuation. Breaking the editing process down into manageable tasks makes it easier to stay focused and ensure that every aspect of your writing receives the attention it deserves.

4. Use Editing Tools and Resources

In addition to relying on your own editing skills, take advantage of editing tools and resources to help you polish your work to perfection. Grammar and spell-checking software like Grammarly and ProWritingAid can help catch typos, grammatical errors, and stylistic inconsistencies. Style guides like the Chicago Manual of Style and the AP Stylebook provide guidance on formatting, punctuation, and grammar rules. Additionally, consider seeking feedback from beta readers or joining a writing group for constructive criticism and support.

Conclusion

In conclusion, mastering the art of self-editing is essential for any writer looking to produce their best work. By following Jade Malay's four mastering tips, you can refine your writing, improve clarity and flow, and ensure that your work resonates with readers. So, take the time to step away from your writing, read aloud for clarity, focus on one element at a time, and use editing tools and resources to polish your work to perfection. With practice and dedication, you can become a master of self-editing and take your writing to new heights.

[kasey-writes]

The World of Silver: Magic

Magic is a force that is a part of everything. Almost every living thing has a trace of Magic on them, though most stay at such low levels it can be difficult to detect. The manifestation depends on the practitioner’s origins and history.

Gray Magic

Gray Magic is the most common and most versatile form of Magic. It is the most widely practiced, used by most fae, sorcerers, and witches. It is flexible in that it can do almost anything within the imagination, from healing to cleaning to cooking. Gray Magic is rooting in both dark and light, making it the easiest to use. It is the force from which all other Magic is born.

Fae are born of Gray Magic. Their bodies are made of it. Because of this, fae and those associated with them that practice it experience physical exhaustion when it is overused. All Magic involves some physical toll, but Gray Magic has the most severe of it.

Curses

Curses are rooted in the darkness. They born from the underbelly of Tir na nOg, deep within its cave systems. Their exact origin is unknown, but they is known to infect any who spend too much time among them. They are used by Unseelie fae and any human practitioners who delved too deep into their studies.

Users of Curses can end up shattering their minds if they overuse their craft, which is why it is known as the most dangerous form of Magic that there is.

Radiant Magic

Radiant Magic is the rarest form of Magic. It is not found naturally in the fae, but only among sorcerers or Soul Mages. It is, at its core, regeneration Magic. Practitioners of Radiant Magic are known for their exceptionally long lifespans due to the regeneration their Magic gives them. Besides regeneration and healing, it is also a relatively flexible Magic, though it works best against forces infected with Curses.

Radiant Magic is born from the soul, one’s own will. Overuse of Radiant Magic can lead to both physical and emotional exhaustion and can cause users to have emotional breakdowns if too much is used in one sitting.

Blessings

Blessings are an attempt humans made at learning Radiant Magic. This Magic isn’t learnable, but it could be copied in weaker form. Blessings will never reach the power level of Radiant Magic, and they require a great deal of mental focus. Blessings can be applied to items and weapons, granting a protective or power boost against Curses. Only a select few are trained in the application of Blessings, due to the amount of time it takes to perfect them.

Blessings were created as a means for the Council to take some power for themselves. They refused to use Magic in any form, and so created their own form of it. The main downside of Blessings is that they are not compatible with any other form of Magic, and their use wipes out any congenital Magic trace one may have.

Taglist (ask to be added or removed): @shattered-starrs @anaisfinallywrites @scripturientworld

[lovegoodfics]

summer air affairs | james potter

best friend’s dad!james potter x reader

word count: 2.5k

literal pure smut, kind of angst at the end

warnings: oral (m and f receiving), praise kink, degradation kink, pet names (sir, baby girl, princess, sweetheart), cheating, age gap (all characters are 100% of age and consenting), slight tears, cum eating kind of, no aftercare, bad writing and editing

a/n: this is my first fic! pls feel free to give me tips or constructive criticism! i hope u like it and i’m sorry it’s badly edited and not the best writing! i wrote/edited it on a red eye flight and am letting go of perfectionism for 2022 so i decided to just post it instead of reading it over and over in my drafts lol.

summary: your longtime crush and bedtime fantasy, james potter, catches you staring at harry’s birthday party.

❅ ☾ ❅ ☾ ❅ ☾ ❅ ☾ ❅ ☾ ❅ ☾ ❅ ☾ ❅ ☾ ❅ ☾ ❅ ☾ ❅ ☾ ❅ ☾

You had met James two summers ago, when Harry had invited some of his friends to the Potter manor for his 16th birthday. You and Harry weren’t particularly best friends or anything, but had shared numerous mutual friends and classes, and were considered part of the same general friend group.

The day of Harry’s 16th birthday party you spent fumbling, nervous, and extremely self conscious in your two piece bathing suit as you watched Harry’s dad kick a ball around in the garden with Harry, Dean, and Seamus. you knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t peel your eyes off the older man. His abs glistened under his opened beach shirt and the fabric of his short bathing suit trunks gripped his thighs in an unholy way.

You knew it was wrong. You knew his loving wife and Harry’s mother, Lily, was right beside you chatting up Luna and Ginny. You knew it was extremely inappropriate to be having thoughts like this about any man that age, never mind your friend’s dad.

However, none of that stopped you from dazing off in James’ direction, imagining him bending you over one of the pool chairs and pounding into you until your toes curled and your vision went white. Or maybe he’d take you into the bathroom and finger you on the counter, making you release all over his digits only feet away from the rest of your friends.

Even now, you remember every moment of that day as if it were a film reel you were able to rewind and repeat in the back of your head.

Your eyes followed his sweaty figure around the garden, even after the younger boys had tired out of playing football and retreated to the pool.

“Hey hon, can I get you something?” James had noticed your staring and the look of sheer lust in your eyes.

You froze in horror, “Oh! oh- uh, no. no I’m okay. thank you, though.” Your heart was beating out of your chest. You couldn’t tell if he had caught you or if he was just being kind, and either option only drew you to him more. James was not naive, and he only pretended to not know your sick fantasies to spur you on even more.

“You sure princess? Plenty of food in the kitchen.”

You froze at the nickname. Was he doing this on purpose? Did he know that the use of that word in his voice, directed at you, drove you mad? The wink he shot at you confused you even more. There was no way this sex god, this beautiful, married, older man was returning any part of your interest.

You opened your mouth to continue your protests, but James shushed you immediately and led you into the manor with a palm on the small of your back.

“Really, sir, I’m okay. I don’t need anything” you came to your senses and panicked as you tried to escape a situation that would require you to control yourself in a room with James, alone.

“Sir?” he mocked with a cheeky grin, ignoring your protests.

“Mr. Potter! sorry, sorry, I meant Mr.Potter!” You didn’t think you could possibly fluster anymore than this, and you would’ve bet ten galleons that your face was as red as the bathing trunks hugging James’ ass and thighs.

“Between just me and you, I think I liked you calling me sir better,” he leant down to your height and whispered in your ear.

He pulled you through the kitchen and into their vast pantry, bigger than you’ve ever seen.

As he began to pour a large glass of ice water- for himself or you, you weren’t sure- he spoke up. “You really should learn how to check people out more subtlety. I’m flattered and all, but you’re lucky people didn’t notice.”

You gulped, your face turning even redder, breaking the levels of blushing you thought was physically possible. You started rambling, just letting the avalanche of words tumble out of your mouth and hoping somehow they formed a coherent defense.

“Mr.Potter! I wasn’t checking- or- looking at you or anything, I promise! I tend to daze off a bit, sometimes it’s just in someone’s direction! Really I didn’t-“

He cut you off as if he hadn’t been listening to your ramblings at all.

“You know, i’m a very observant person. when Harry was a baby I knew exactly what he was asking for based on the different sounds of his cries. I knew what his favorite foods were before he could communicate it. I knew my best friends were fucking years before they came out of the closet to me. And right then, in the garden, I knew you were checking me out, not just zoning out. I also knew that i was turning you on. And I can tell now, even though you’re denying it and you’re shaking with nerves, being in here with me alone, makes you hornier than ever.”

Your jaw dropped. James had read you like a book, and based on the sly smirk on his face as he raised the glass of water to his lips ever so casually, he also was aware that all of his “observations” about you were correct.

“Mr. Potter, really, I am so sorry, it’s honestly just a crush, I can leave right now! I really don’t mean to intrude on anything, I never meant for you to notice! Merlin, fuck! I am so so sorry.”

You felt your eyes well up with tears and a lump form in your throat as you apologized. You had never been so mortified and turned on in your life.

“Don’t call me Mr. Potter, it makes me feel old. Also watch your language,” he said with a sense of pride and victory in his voice as he leaned back against the counter, putting his abs on display.

“Oh! I’m sorry mr- I mean, what should I call you?”

You were still timid at this point, but you slightly wanted a hole to swallow you up where you stood a little less, as he didn’t seem offended or angry about the situation.

He leaned forward so his face was inches from yours, and breathed directly into the side of your ear, “Didn’t, I tell you this already? Call me Sir.”

At that moment you made eye contact with him and let out a small “Yes, Sir.”

He let out what could only be described as a growl from deep within him before grabbing your cheeks with either hand and smashing his lips on to yours.

Once you got over the split second of lightheartedness from your wildest bedtime-fantasies becoming true, you began to kiss him back, matching the hunger and primalness he brought to the kiss.

“Jump,” he whispered into the kiss, never leaving your lips. You wrapped your legs around his torso and he put either of his large, brute hands on your butt as he walked you somewhere else in the house. somewhere more private, you assumed.

When he finally set you down and slammed the door shut, you realized you were sitting on a bathroom counter, and based on the pictures hanging on the wall and the various quidditch decorations scattered around, you could tell it was Harry’s bathroom.

“Do you know your silencing spells” he asked, before returning his hands to the area where your butt met your thighs.

“Yes-I- I think so” you stuttered out, reaching into the pocket of your loose coverup shirt for your wand.

“Muffliato.” The door’s edges lit up for a split second before fading back, proving your charm to be successful.

“Good girl,” James had muttered into your ear before scattering bites along your earlobe and the nape of your neck.

You shivered at the nickname, leaning into his touch and kisses involuntarily.

“You like being my good girl, princess?” He picked up your reaction to the words. how observant of him.

“Yes Sir. Yes, please!”

“Then hold still.”

In just a few quick motions, James had undone the strings of your bikini top and the strings on either side of your bottoms, leaving you completely naked except for the coverup that had already made it’s way down to your wrists.

Without a word, James had kneeled down so his face sat right in front of your pussy.

“What a beautiful fucking cunt for a beautiful girl. Dripping for me, baby.”

You whined at the praise, then gasped as he suddenly attached his lips to your clit. His tongue danced around your bundle of nerves until he found a pattern that had your eyes rolling back in your head and your fingertips turning white from grasping at his hair so hard.

He lapped at your nub like a mad man, adding a finger into your hole that had been clenching around nothing.

“Dirty fucking girl, I can tell you’re close already.” You merely moaned in response, pushing your hips closer to his face.

After a minute or two more of his expert ministrations, he mumbled “Cum for me princess,” his lips never leaving your aching pussy.

Your back arched and your toes curled as you released your orgasm, thanking merlin that James had made you cast that silencing spell due to the outright pornographic scream you had let out.

Your vision was slightly blurred when you opened your eyes again a few seconds later and were greeted with the view of James wiping your juices off of his face with the back of his hand.

“Thank you, sir.” Your voice was hoarse as you somehow managed to speak.

“Such good manners. Good girl.”

He brought his lips back to your clit before you reflexively scooched back and let out a yelp of “No! Too much!”

He laughed before returning to his feet, his hands resting on the mirror behind you on the sides of your head.

“Only teasing baby, relax.”

He kissed you with the same hunger he had before, letting you taste yourself all over his tongue and lips.

He took one of your hands and placed it on his now fully hardened cock, pressing down slightly so you’d get the hint.

“Ever touch a cock before sweetheart?” He asked, using his other hand to swipe the spit off your lips from the previous kiss.

“Only once, I- I don’t know if I’m very good.”

He let out another chuckle, making you frown. You didn’t know what was so funny about all of this to him.

“Baby girl looking like that, there’s no way that you’ll be anything but amazing. Pretty girls like you are born to touch cock.”

He pulled you off the counter and pushed you down to your knees, his playful demeanor suddenly turning cold and hard.

“Suck.” He demanded, grabbing your hair at the back of your head and pushing your mouth towards his reddened tip.

Without question you closed your eyes and wrapped your lips around him, using your tongue to swirl around his tip and collect the precum that had leaked out.

He pushed you down further, hardly giving you time to adjust your jaw to his size and the motions of a blow job.

“Fuck,” he tilted his head back at the sudden onset of pleasure, “Don’t close your eyes princess. Look at me while you suck me off.”

You obeyed him so suddenly; it felt as if you were made to be under his control. You strained your eyes upward to meet his, leading to another string of profanities to come out of his mouth.

He began to set a fast, yet shallow pace with the ponytail he had gathered at the back of your head. You silently thanked him for giving you some sort of mercy by not going all the way to the back of your throat. This was only your second blowjob you had ever given and you weren’t sure you could take his size all the way down quite yet.

He continued his pace, and his cursing, as you wrapped your hand around the rest of the length that wasn’t fitting into your mouth, with your other hand gently fondling his balls.

“Shit! Fuck, babe, you were fucking made for this. Fuck! Made to suck my cock you dirty fucking whore.”

While you knew praise was one of your favorite things from a few past steamy makeouts in the dormitories, you had never considered degradation until you felt a gush of arousal come out at his filthy words.

You moaned around his length and sped up your mouth and hand slightly, now setting the pace yourself rather than having James guide you.

“Fucking shit princess, I’m about to fucking cum, Merlin-“

He pulled out of your mouth in a split second and came all over your face. His cum mixed with the saliva dripping around your mouth and the tears that had let themselves flow at some point during you sucking him off.

“You look perfect,” he groaned, using his two thumbs to wipe all the liquids from your face. Once he had gathered most of the mess you two had made on you, he stuck his thumbs deep into your mouth.

The sudden intrusion made you gag, but you sucked his thumbs clean and swallowed nonetheless.

His dominant persona immediately dropped and returned to his charming, goofy self as Harry’s dad, offering a hand to help you up from the marbled floor.

“You okay love?” He smirked, pulling his swimming trunks back up.

“Yeah, yeah I’m great. Thanks,” you half smiled at him, standing awkwardly in front of him, fully bare.

“I better get back out there, don’t want the Mrs. wondering where I went,” he chuckled, ruffling his hair back into its usual mess rather than its sex-mess.

“You should probably get dressed, tell them you were looking for the bathroom or something if anyone asks. Enjoy the party, sweets!” Without a second glance back at you, he had closed the door behind him.

You were left standing naked there in shock. Did he really just leave like that? You weren’t expecting a candlelit bath or anything, but at least a kiss or some comforting fucking words would have been nice.

As you began to retie all the strings that put together your bikini, you realized you didn’t feel nearly as dirty or as used as you probably should. You realized that you honestly didn’t care much about how you felt after the sex, if you could even call it that technically, because you just felt so good during it.

If this was the price you had to pay to fulfill all of your fantasies with who you thought was your most unattainable, wildest crush? You’d do it again in a heartbeat, fuck aftercare.

You made your way back out to the garden, trying to erase any evidence of a post sex-glow before you walked over to your group of friends. You sat on a pool chair beside Ginny and Luna.

“Where did you disappear off to?” Ginny nonchalantly asked, placing another piece of fruit that her and Luna were snacking on into her mouth.

“Was looking for a bathroom,” you lied, using the excuse James had told you to use.

After all, you’d obey anything James told you to.

[ghostcombustion]

Rebound

Steve Harrington x F!Reader

A/n : this is my first time posting on Tumblr so don't be scared to give me some construction criticism

NOT EDITED

Summary : Y/n has been in love with Steve since they were children. Everything changed when Steve turns a different page and leaves Y/n behind. When they meet again, Y/n realizes her feelings never went away.

Mentions : depressive thoughts, one sided romance, heartbreak, suicidal tendencies

You hated to admit it but you had been in love with Steve Harrington since the first day you met him. As a kindergarten, you didn't fully understand what your parents meant by getting a divorce. For a hot second, your immature mind thought it might of been a good thing.

That was until your mother moved out. That's when it hit you that divorce wasn't a good thing.

Tommy Hagan, your neighbor, was one of the first to hear about your parents divorce and he wasted no time picking fun at you because of it. Every minute of every day, he bullied you non stop until one day you just went silent instead of arguing. The young boy stood their confused but still continued.

The next thing you knew, he was on the ground holding his eye and crying like a baby.

"That's what you get..... bitch..." You snarled while flipping her hair.

And that's when you saw him, Steve Harrington. Your heart fluttered as he laughed at the boy crying in the ground.

From that day on, you two were close. Constant playdates, lunch swapping and playing stupid made up games.

Everything was good until highschool hit. The two of you went two different directions. Steve started getting close to Tommy and soon was one of the most popular kids. His preppy style and love for sports brought him to the top of the pyramid.

On the other hand, there was you. Your love for grunge and singing songs on your guitar while occasionally rocking out with Eddie Munson or Jonathan Byers had brought you to the very bottom. You'd been classified as one of the freaks.

For a while, you didn't mind. Popularity never really mattered to you. It was a foolish thing to think that.

Slowly, you felt Steve pulling away from you. The constant excuses of being sick and grounded just broke you to bits. The one day, you just stopped. Why chase a guy who wanted nothing to do with you?

It was painful to watch your first love and your best friend fade into a different person. You spent endless nights crying in your pillow and wishing that he would someday change his mind and come back. There were multiple nights that you were lost in the though if you dying. And each time you thought of it, you'd imagine he would be there. Steve would be there and apologize for being a shitty friend and would show he cared.

But that was all a fantasy. A stupid fucking fantasy.

Unlike the other "freaks", you were never bullied. Tommy was scared of you and warned the others to stay away from you like you were a plague.

You helped in the search of Will Byers seeing as he was your friend's brother but ended up getting looped into a new world of things you wished you could unsee.

When Dustin Henderson came for you to help, you didn't hesitate and helped him with everything he needed. That included trapping an interdimensional dog in a storm cellar.

Before you had time to even breath, you were working with the one person you doubted you would ever talk to again.

His eyes staring into your own ignited a flame you thought had been blown out. When he stood by you, you couldn't ignore the way your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest. How when his hand brushed against his, your body just melted and everything would feel so right.

It was the night after everything had finally finished. The demodogs we're finally gone, the mind flayer had been defeated, and the gate had finally been closed.

To blow off steam, you went your own way. Not really wanting to be apart of the celebration at the Byers. Nobody protested when you left. They were just all so excited to have life return to normal.

Unbeknownst to your knowledge, Steve had filled you into the forest. It wasn't until you heard a large snap from behind you that you noticed.

You had heard from Jonathan that him and Nancy had sorta broken up. Not officially but both parties knew their time together was coming to an end.

"Why are you following me?" You questioned while resting your body on the side of a random tree.

Steve casually shrugged, "Just felt like it." He replies casually much to your dismay. His hand ran through his hair making your heart burn.

"I was thinking-- I dunno." Steve took in a sharp breath and began walking up to you. "Y/n..." He breathed while blocking you from leaving.

Your mind went blank and your body went totally numb as his soft lips pressed against your own. Of course you wanted to kiss him. You really wanted to fucking kiss him. Maybe call him your own and finally become what you always wanted to be.

Instead, a pit in your stomach grew and a single tear fell from your eye. You pushed him away.

"No." You said sternly while harshly biting on your bottom lip.

"what? No it's obvious you like me Y/n!" He reasoned and furrowed his bushy eyebrows.

You shook your head and sighed, "I do. I can't lie Steve. I've been in love with your for years but I not going to do this. I'm not going to be your rebound after Nancy."

The brunette in front of you scoffed, "A rebound?"

"Steve, it's been like two fucking weeks. You can't get over someone that quickly." You swallowed while trying to hold back the tears threatening to overflow.

"You're crazy..." He laughed while pacing back and forth. "You think I'd use you as a rebound? I thought we were friends!"

"We were friends!" You shouted. Your face scrunched up and you turned your head to the side. "We were friends until you blew me off to be friends with Tommy and Carol. And maybe we had something going on okay? A redemption of some sorts but Steve, you ruined it. I'm not going to let my feelings influence me into being a distraction for you!" A soft breath left your lips. "You can't use me as a distraction--"

"I can if I want!" He blurted out. Immediately his eyes filled with regret and he reached a hand out to you. "Y/n, I didn't--"

You smiled and shook your head, "Like I said, a rebound."