#I finally bucked up and looked up how to Actually view All the YouTube likes and not just the 5000 that YT is willing to show you

[sysig]

Hhhhhhhhh 👀✨

[fujoreads]

Umineko: Episode 2 // Review & Thoughts

Heey it's Episode 2! I've just finished Episode 4, so I might as well catch up on these.

VNDB | Steam

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

CW: Murder (duh); non-explicit nudity; child abuse

P.S.: There are broken youtube previews due to my blog's theme, so they won't look as good, but I refuse not to show them.

If Episode 1 was crazy enough, this episode just gets crazier—and so on. I don't remember much of the details from this, but I do remember it focusing more on Shannon and Rosa this time.

There's even some cool foreshadowing I understand now after finishing Episode 4! I will only reference it in my EP4 review, though.

By the way, unlike EP1, I won't go into as much detail since we're all aware of who the characters are.

Let us begin!

PLOT

Different deaths, different order, different victims!

We get to know more about Shannon and her inner desires for a successful romantic relationship with George. They are very cute together, though I found the whole aquarium date a bit slow.

THEY SAID THE THING!!!

Hahaha, it's fun to see how this sentence can apply to so many different situations, meaning different things.

CHARACTERS

Ushiromiya Battler

This might be the most emotionally brutal episode to him. Well, to an extent they all are, but the way Beatrice made him submit so hard is something else.

This was a fantastic episode for femdom enjoyers such as myself kekw

Ushiromiya Eva

Eva plays a huge role in Shannon's view of herself (and her role in George's life) as an obstacle.

I don't have much to add—she'll have her time next episode.

Ushiromiya Jessica

I almost forgot this was the episode we discover Jessica has a crush on Kanon. I'm not going to lie, I hate this ship. Well, hate is a strong word, but I don't really feel any chemistry and it feels forced, so it's kinda funny how Kanon keeps rejecting her.

Ushiromiya Rosa

Her relationship with Maria is a continuous focus over the entire arc, but this episode focused a lot on how her relationship with her family shaped her into this well-meaning but abusive parent.

This dynamic will be better developed in Episode 4, but I really enjoyed these scenes, even if they hurt a lot to read through.

Rosa is the leader this time. It's fun how our reaction towards her with a gun is completely different from EP1, when Natsuhi was the surviving parent.

It's the eyes, I tell you. They have malice in them o_o"

Though I'll admit, the last scene with her and Maria was hella badass, and it was nice to see her trying to save her at all costs, even if she was a bit greedy as well.

Her Tea Party torture scene was... man, that was tough to read.

Shannon

Shannon had huge character development throughout this entire episode and I loved it. But to be completely honest, I can't remember a lot except for Rosa's paranoia.

The Stakes

Ooooh man, I wasn't expecting to see actual demons. I don't know why I wouldn't expect it, but I just didn't. I liked Asmodeus, she seems fun!

Atmosphere & Soundtrack

My favorite banger for the episode! It's such a great ending scene aaaa

Mechanics & Gameplay

We get introduced to the red truths. I finally understand the memes!!

I love how Ryukishi is always introducing new concepts even within the game. It keeps things fresh, especially considering how long this game is.

Final Thoughts

Well, this was it for me! I think the next episodes might be more detailed, I just forgot a lot about this episode. Of the Question Arc, this may be the least memorable, unfortunately.

It was still a great episode, and I finished wanting more! I'll give this a 7.5/10, aka 4 stars!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Thank you for reading it all to the end! I’m working full-time and looking for another job to make my life possible; would you be so kind and consider giving me a little tip? It can be as low as 3 bucks and it’d make a huuuuuge difference!! If you tip 10€ (or higher), you can dictate my next read and be credited (if you’d like) on that review! Have a nice day!!

[transienturl]

trying to think of like... how would I describe each laptop manufacturer on pure vibes. off the top of my head...

asus: we have more marketing and r&d budget then we can possibly spend on normal things. look, this one is coated in LEDs! this one has the keyboard in the wrong place! this one splits open! half of their premium product launches generate more youtube views than actual sales because by the time you consider buying one they're discontinued. high-end products can be quite good; midrange products are often a couple bucks too expensive because the brand name buys you some clout. spends a lot of cash to get floorspace at best buy. taiwan.

lenovo: a relative newcomer to the western market (they bought IBM's thinkpad division back in the day), used to be the kings of cost cutting on basically every part they could think of. if they've learned what parts are actually worth cutting costs on (and benefitted from the fact that these days 85% of the parts that exist are Actually Decent) there might be something there. primarily does direct online sales. mainland china.

msi: kind of hit on an identity when they made the first thin and light gaming laptop/"jack of all trades, master of none" device that was actually good, and continue to have a strong presence in that market. devices tend to be a bit on the hollow/flexible-feeling side, not necessarily in a bad way, but just in contrast to "ough that's solid but heavy." under-reviewed, imho. taiwan.

gigabyte: hey, we exist too! some cool stuff at the high end; primary drawback in the west is a reputation for spotty support if you don't speak mandarin since they just do less sales volume than the other Asian companies. mainland china

acer: budget, budget, budget. takes up a truly impressive amount of the low to midrange market with usable but unspectacular devices. once in a while they'll put out a premium-priced device and get confused reviews, like, "guys, this is just a budget laptop with a higher price tag???" known for pure gaming laptops with poor battery life, displays, keyboards, and trackpads but very competitive performance, and general use laptops that are very competent for the price tag if you can find the model that hit the right balance on all of the parts. taiwan.

lg: primarily known for the lg gram line of premium, very lightweight general-use laptops, which are pretty good. do they make anything else? korea.

samsung: yeah we make everything; sure, let's make laptops. very low volume kind of like lg, but a marketing behemoth like asus. korea.

framework: finally, a repairability-focused laptop that's actually good. only has one device (13" general-use) and it's a bit overpriced iirc, and you have some "we're a startup" stuff to deal with, but it's rare that you can take a moral stance and actually get a good product out of it. united states.

dell: kind of the flagship american laptop brand. does a bit of everything. competes with asus on the "solidly built, premium-priced, unnecessarily flashy gaming" front via alienware, with acer on the "budget-priced, competent enough gaming" front via inspiron, and with apple on the "best possible jack of all trades" front via xps. notably, has a huge refurbished store (dell outlet) with a ton of selection that's unmatched by any of the others. united states.

hp: guys we're just like dell! please believe us. used to be the other flagship american laptop brand for years and then idk they ran out of money or something and dropped most of their product lines. kind of like american acer now, I guess? united states.

apple: operating system differences aside, has a consistent standard of build quality, minimum part quality, relative reliability, and "having a working trackpad" that makes every windows laptop look like some sort of children's toy. (I am not joking: the 2008 macbook pro has a trackpad that has not been matched by a windows pc in 15 years. it is legitimately puzzling.) 2016-2019 missteps aside, 80% of the things one could list about a laptop have been multiple years ahead of the competition on the mac essentially forever. on the other hand, they're a gazillion dollars, you can't game on them basically at all, you're stuck with macos, etc etc. (the m1 macbook air in particular is so good that none of that even really matters, though. fingers crossed for the 15" m2 air to continue the trend and not be $1800.) united states.

microsoft: "look, we can match apple's build and display quality!" an extreme newcomer, specifically designed to push the windows platform in the fronts where apple traditionally ate their lunch. they absolutely have done that, and are years ahead of almost anyone else on those fronts. too bad they're constantly a year behind schedule with their hardware and only do premium pricing, had some reliability issues, and suffer from a "we glued the whole thing together and if it breaks it's unfixable" problem that they're only very recently engineering their way out of. still, managed to put a seriously compelling product (surface laptop) in the premium general-use device category until the m1 air came out. united states.

razer: "look, we can match apple's build quality in a gaming laptop!" a relative newcomer that made an incredible, unprecedented jump from a gaming mouse company to a moderate-volume premium pc manufacturer somehow. only sells to the ultra-premium gaming market (weird ultrabooks aside), but does a good job of it. united states.

clevo: the white-label manufacturer behind many smaller brands like ibuypower, maingear; often does comically huge desktop replacement style devices. taiwan.

origin/corsair: who knows, but knowing corsair (asus on bad steroids), it will be about 85% too expensive to be more than a curiosity. united states.

huawei, xiaomei: up-and-coming chinese phone manufacturers joining the laptop market a la samsung. hard to find or get service for in the west. notable because they had access to the high-end display panels that before recently only apple and microsoft used, and sold devices with them at much lower prices. mainland china.

[crimson2877]

estiny

[world-of-aus]

Strictly Confidential - Part 3

Warnings: easily flustered Bucky Barnes because that is a warning!

A/n: sorry for the delay, I’ll be updating the dates of release on this masterlist! Left it on a bit of hanger because i need to get you all roped in further as we take off! I hope you’ll enjoy this chapter i love writing a flustered Bucky! As always thank you for reading!

Part 2 / Series Masterlist

There was something about mornings that Bucky dreaded, but there was something about this particular morning that just took the cake.

Since he woke up this morning, two hours late to be exact, everything was slowly going to shit. From the accident on the streets causing him to arrive an hour later to the office then planned, to the mix up on his coffee order, to the only elevator in the office out of order, he didn’t think it could get any worse, there was just no way.

He should have known better than to think otherwise because finding you bent over his desk, your skirt tight around your backside nearly sent him into cardiac arrest, of course it was your first day working for him how could he have forgotten. Seeing you bent over his desk had him growing hard in his slacks his hand cupping the warm Styrofoam cup a little too tightly sending the lid popping off and hot liquid pouring over his hands, a loud, “son of a bitch,” spilling from his lips.

A gasp left your lips as you looked over your shoulder just in time to see him drop the coffee to the floor with a hiss, “Mr. Barnes, oh my goodness,” you voiced making your way over to him, “here let me help,” you murmured grabbing the files from his other hand. He watched you move around his office, placing his files neatly on his desk before you were moving back over to him to pick up the lid and coffee cup discarding them in the can by his door.

“I’ll be right back,” you murmured exiting his office door, Bucky watched the door you had glided out of in a daze, he hadn’t even been in his office for a full minute and he was already captivated by you.  

Your rushing back in a minute later when he’s finally managed to snap himself out of the very trance that you have put him in. “Here,” you voiced moving over to him grabbing a hold of his hand as you placed a cool towel on the heated red skin, “you really ought to be more careful Mr. Barnes, if you need me to fetch your coffee in the mornings before I come in, I have no problem doing so.”

“Nonsense y/n, that’s not - Jesus christ,” he grunted watching you drop to your knees swiftly to tend at the coffee spill on the floor giving him a perfect view down the top of your blouse.

Your eyes shoot up, brow raised, “Everything alright sir, was the towel not cool enough, I can see if I can get you some antiseptic, Steve said I could fetch him if I needed anything,”

“Sir?” you questioned slowly when he didn’t answer at first, Bucky blinked at you owlishly before shaking his head, rubbing at his eyes, “Mr. Barnes are you sure you're okay, I can go get Steve, really it won’t be an issue.

“no, no,” he muttered shaking his head, “it's just been a long morning, nothings quite going as expected,” he sighed rubbing a hand over his eyes.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” you questioned.

His eyes are snapping open at the sound of your voice, and god he wished he wouldn’t have chosen that exact moment to look at you because he's a breath away from falling to his knees himself, licking his way into your mouth and fucking you senseless on the floor.

“Uhm actually yes, do you think you could fetch Steve for me?”

“No,” Bucky looked at Steve incredulously, “what do you mean no!”

“What I said Bucky,” Steve replied with a roll of his eye, “no, your hired her yesterday, now all of a sudden you decide it’s not something you want,” he questions, “we’ll I’m sorry man, but no, I’m not going to fire someone because you change your mind from one day to another, she’s a damn good publicist give her a chance, she’s going to change your life!”

Bucky groans, running a hand through his hair, how can he tell Steve that’s it’s not you, its him. How does he tell Steve that he signed up for a Cam website like him and Sam had told him to jokingly do and that the Cam girl he loves to spend his hard-earned money on is you, his newly hired publicist? How does he tell Steve that he can’t be in your presence without his dick getting hard at the mere sight of you? How does he tell him that you already did change his life?

“Steve please,” his best friend shakes his head, “If you want her gone YOU fire her,” he glares, “I’ve seen the work she does, and I know the great things she’s capable of, so I'm not going to do that to her, you do it if you really don’t want her working under you.”

Steve doesn’t give him a chance to argue, a chance to plead with his friend, his best pal, because Steve is exiting his office in a huff, and Bucky knows he’s fucked up.

Today really was the bane of his existence.

A soft knock sounds on his office door, he glances up to see you there a soft smile on your lips, “I brought you some lunch, asked Steve for your usual, I hope you don’t mind, figured you had a bad enough morning, and with Steve walking out of here like a man on a mission, I'm assuming your meeting with him didn’t go as great.”

Bucky sighs, “you have no idea” he murmurs.

Your gliding through his office doors, placing a bag from his favorite Diner down in front of him, “I hope you enjoy your lunch Mr. Barnes, and if there’s anything else I can do for you, I honestly don’t mind offering a helping hand,” you shrug, “I may be a publicist but I can be a friend if you need it.”

Your words shock Bucky, you really were the total package, weren't you?

The words are out of his mouth before he can stop himself, “would you like to have lunch with me,” he questions and its that teasing glimmer in your eyes that has him adding, “of course only if you want, if you don’t have lunch plans with anyone else.”

A soft laugh falls from your lips as you take one of the seats in front of his desk, softly moving things from in front of his desk off to the side, “was planning on having lunch by myself in the workroom, but having lunch with you sounds a lot better, get to know you on a more personal level Mr. Barnes.”

He clears his throat, opening the bag as he pulls his burger and fries out, “what would you like to know?” he questions shoving a fry into his mouth.

“what’s your guilty pleasure?” and really your question is innocent, but something in him snaps when he watches you lick the extra ketchup off of your finger.

“you,” he murmurs in a daze.

Your eyes are meeting his brow raised, a smirk pulling at your lips, “excuse me?” you question.

Bucky's cheeks flush red at the realization of what he’s said, “YouTube, YouTube is my guilty pleasure, and god does he wish the floor would swallow him whole because your full-on smirking, and he knows you know.

“alright Barnes, why is YouTube your guilty pleasure?”

“I like to watch videos,” he shrugs, and a snort falls from your lips, “what type of content do you like to watch?”

You.

“I don’t have a specific thing I like to watch,” unless it's your spreading your legs for me, my name spilling from your lips in a breathy plea, “I like to watch anything that catches my eye really,” and you catch me eye.

“Have a special someone in your life right now?” you question over a fry.

Bucky takes a bite from his burger considering your question, “define special someone sweetheart,” and he grins when he hears you clear your throat, cheeks taking on a slight hue of pink.

“Now Sir, I think you know what I mean by special someone, do I really need to spell it out for you?”

Yes, yes you do, with your mouth wrapped around his cock, tongue swirling over his head, there goes his slacks.

“should we skip the question?” you question.

“Wouldn’t say I have a special someone, but there is someone I'm interested in, is that answer enough for you?”

You smirk, “might need to spice it up, but hey that’s my job,”

“what about you.” he fires back, and honestly, he’s a little curious.

“what about me?

“do you have a ‘special someone’” he questions throwing away his trash in the bin under his desk.

“Define special someone,” you throw back a teasing smile on your lips.

“would you like me to spell it out for you?” he questions because really he would drop to his knees if you asked him too.

You laugh shaking your head, “not that it’s any of your business,” you tease, “but if you must know, there is someone I am interested in, he’s a client of mine.”

Bucky raises a brow, “oh, anyone I might now, someone from your work perhaps?”

Your cheeks flush red, as you wipe at your mouth with a napkin, “I don’t think you know him, but he is a client of mine, a regular if you will.”

“a regular you say,” he questions, is there a name to this lucky fellow?” he adds, and that only makes your cheeks grow warmer.

“Buck.”

Bucky chokes on his saliva, his body convulsing wildly in a fit of coughs, “oh my god Mr. Barnes are you okay?” you questioned concerned.

His hand is waving wildly in the air, voice coming out strained, “yeah, yeah I'm fine, went down the wrong pipe,” he coughs.

You're getting up then making your way around his desk, your hand rubbing his back softly, “did the name ring a bell?” you questioned through a laugh, and good thing his head is ducked because surely he would have given himself a way with just a look.

“No, no, I promise it wasn’t that like I said it's not the best day, and it seems I can’t even swallow.”

Your stifling your own laughter, and his eyes grow wide, “y/n get your mind out of the gutter,” he grunts.

Laughter is fully spilling out of your lips now, and his eyes slide up your legs, stopping on your face, god the sounds you make always sound so heavenly to him.

“I’m so sorry,” you snort, “but you walked yourself into that one!”

“I think that’s enough questions for today,” he laughs, your laughter finally getting him, “that’s fine,” you chuckle wiping under your eyes, the hand that was on his back falling to your side, and there’s a part of him missing your touch.

“Steve said he would fill me on as much as he could so that I could start working on something for you,”  

Bucky watches as you gather your things feet carrying you to the door, you turn to face him a warm smile on your lips, “thank you for letting me have lunch with you Mr. Barnes.”

He’s smiling back, “thank you for having lunch with me y/n.” he watches you leave through his door, the glass closing softly.

He’s slumping against his chair, a breath of air leaving his lips, “buck,” he was your special someone, or at least the man behind the screen of your Xmodels website was.

BuckmeUp his Xmodels username, it had to be him, he had looked through your publicist website last night, looked through the articles, and videos you have created for various clientele and there was no “Buck” there.

His thumb runs over his lip, he knew this wouldn’t end good.

Its later that same day that he decides to call it for the evening, he had gotten absolutely nothing done today, and to be quite frank he was over it.

Grabbing his things, he exited his office, intent on heading home and calling it a night, he didn’t think he had it in him to go through anything else.

Seeing the elevator with no out of order sign had slightly lifted his hopes, thankful to not have to walk down three flights. He’s stepping into the elevator when he hears you call out for him, his foot stops the closing doors, as you run the rest of the way, “oh thank goodness,” you breathe as you slide in past him, pressing up against the wall, “I thought I was the only one still here.”

“What are you still doing here,” he questions as the doors slide closed, “I’m usually the last one out of the office, did steve leave before you?”

Your nodding, “yeah he said he had to get home, he said I could stay behind to finish up putting together some of the information he gave me about you.” you smile.

“anything interesting?” he questioned watching as you pulled your phone from your purse.

You look up at him slightly as you unlock your phone, “he told me some really lovely things about you and your company, you sound like quite the catch.” you grin, eyes averting back to your screen.

“Texting your “special someone,” he questions as the elevator dings, doors sliding open.

A laugh leaves your lips, but your eyes remain glued to your screen as you follow him out of the elevator, “something like that,” you murmur.

You’re locking your phone as you and Bucky make your way down the corridor of the bottom level of the office, your slipping out the door with him, when it's time to part ways. Bucky's phone pings with a notification pausing him in his steps as you continue on, you turn your head when your feet away from him, “I’ll see you tomorrow Mr. Barnes, have a great night!” you call out, as you walk further down the quiet streets. Bucky goes to respond but the notification he just received has his breath catching in his throat, and his words dying on his tongue.

Xmodels:

Have sometime for your best girl tonight? - Vixen

Part 4

WorldofAUs Forever Tag-list: @cap-n-stuff-main​​ @bucky-cinnamonroll-barnes​​ @kseniiafirebrace​​ @sideeffectsofyou​​ @pinknerdpanda​​ @thefridgeismybestie​​ @b0nkybarnes​​ @oliviastan17​

Strictly Confidential Tag-list: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @lady-pswrld @connie326 @lookiamtrying @depproselily @mollygetssherlockcoffee @jaywolf840 @calwitch @genlovesdcb @xoasalxo @jbarness @undiscovered-misunderstood​ @abschaffer2​ @brattypeony​ @sassy-pelican​

[arigatouiris]

an inconvenient crush // kozume kenma x reader (2/2)

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for the support! I really appreciate people coming in and telling me you liked my story! Makes me feel so loved and valid, I can’t even begin to tell you how special it makes me feel. Here’s the final part! Do let me know what you think! Thank you so much :”)

Word count: 4k+

Pairing: YouTuber! Kenma Kozume x Streamer! Reader

Summary: YouTuber Kozume Kenma has had the biggest crush on Twitch Streamer, (s/n) (y/n), who in actuality simps heavily after Kenma’s secret YouTube persona, puddinghead0.

What happens when their paths cross?

Kuroo is honestly tired of Kenma’s second-guessing, and (y/n) is a bit of a crackhead.

Warnings: unrequited love, one-sided crush, slight angst, pining, crackhead reader, internet bullying, slang, gaming references, haikyuu manga spoilers, fluff

C h a p t e r T w o: kozume in love

Kenma chuckled when he heard you scream over the controller. The both of you were currently fighting a boss named Martyr Logarius, and while you had beaten the game once, playing it in Newgame+ was extra hard. Kenma was certainly helping, but you had made a silly mistake and died for the fourth time in a row.

    "You're dodging too early," Kenma said, still chuckling, "But it is entertaining to see you dodge in such panic."

    "Shut up," You groaned over the microphone, earning more chuckles from him, "I'm trying, okay?"

    "You beat this game, you said?"

    "Ahhh!"

Kenma laughed some more, now covering his face with his hand. He could hear you laugh out of frustration as well, but while this entire orchestration felt funny to both of you, Kenma's heart bubbled dangerously. He loved the sound of your voice, and he absolutely adored the way you groaned and cursed at the bosses each time you died or each time you defeated them. You were good, and even as the game tested you, you trod on. He could see you loved gaming in its entirety, and slowly, he was learning more about you.

    "I need a beer." You sighed.

    "This game does that to you," Kenma leaned back against his bean bag, "I mean... Not to burst your bubble, but you do suck."

    "Oye," You warned playfully, "I'm a streamer."

    "Anyone can stream, (y/n)."

There was silence on the other end after that, but Kenma didn't think it was anything odd. The co-oping between you two was going on for a few days now, and it would last up to 5-7 hours at most. It was strange that despite college, you two managed to find time to sit and play, but after a point, it had become more than just the game. You began to crave his voice, crave the way he'd be there, whenever you were about to run low on health, he'd come over and give you time to heal.

Co-oping with Kenma was fun because it felt, oddly, as if he really cared.

    "(y/n)?"

    "I always thought you sounded familiar," Kenma blinked, "But I think hearing you say more words sort of... gave it away."

    "Gave what away?" Kenma's heart was pounding now.

    "Kozume-kun," He didn't want to hear the rest, "Are you puddinghead0?"

It took him several seconds to process what you said. He could practically feel his heart beat against his ears, and he could sense you getting impatient at him as well.

    "Kozume—"

    "How did you know?"

You took a few moments to answer.

    "I... I've been a fan for too long not to recognize your voice, really. I just... I guess I had to hear you through the microphone to instantly pick it up? I don't know I... Why didn't you tell me?"

    "I didn't want you to know."

    "Oh," His heart broke at how low you sounded. "I... I'm sorry, I didn't ask you because I knew you were him or anything! I asked you as Kozume—"

    "Right."

    "No, listen," You were panicking now, "I assure you, I didn't know until recently. I didn't even think... I never—"

    "What did you picture him as, (y/n)?"

    "What do you—"

    "I'm sure you pictured him as someone different, right? It must disappoint you that someone you admire is in fact, a regular college student—"

    "Don't say that! I really enjoy playing with you, and... I never even pictured how you'd look in the first place!"

    "Sure—"

    "Can we meet? Please, let me just—"

    "Not happening. It was nice playing with you, (y/n). I hope you get the platinum—"

    "Please, don't do this."

When Kenma hesitated, he knew that it was no longer an inconvenient crush. His fingers trembled and he couldn't look away from the television screen. His chest hurt and he was certain that his shirt was drenched.

    "Please, let's—"

    "Where do you want to... meet?"

    "Oh, thank goodness," Your genuine relief made him want to laugh, "I was so certain you'd hang up. Oh, thank god. Uh, I don't know. You live near campus?"

He narrowed his eyes, "What campus?"

    "Tokyo University?"

    "You go here too?"

    "Literature student! You go here? You mean to say the puddinghead0 goes to—"

    "Please, just never call me that, okay?"

    "Where do you want to meet?"

    "I... Just come to campus, we'll figure it out."

What normally took Kenma 12 minutes took him 17 now. He spent some time pacing back and forth on whether to go or not, before understanding that he couldn't back out after assuring you that he'd be there. He wondered if you would come as a fan or as his friend (were you his friend?), but the foremost thing that Kenma worried about was what your interaction with him would be about. Why did you want to meet him? What explanation did you want to give?

Maybe she wants to thank me, he thought as he walked forward, finally bucking up and realizing that he might actually need to meet you alone as himself.

He noticed that you were waiting outside the gates of the campus, airpods plugged in, head rocking lightly to some music that you were listening to. From a distance, you caught sight of him and waved almost hesitantly, shooting his heart to the skies. Your hair was tied in a messy bun and you were wearing anime merch, a Bakugou shirt with regular jeans. No matter what you wore, Kenma thought you were ridiculously pretty. Kenma had always thought you were pretty, from the very first video that you uploaded. He caught your stream in Kuroo's laptop when he had come over, and apparently it was your first time. You were hesitant and shy, but it gradually died down the more you played. Kenma found himself laughing so much that it alerted Kuroo, who had understood right away that you held a special place in Kenma's mind since no one could make Kenma laugh quite like you could.

When he was a few feet away from you, you looked at him awkwardly before he noticed you were red-faced. Is she... blushing?

    "U-Uh, yeah so uh," She was so nervous that it was making him feel weird, "I don't want to treat you differently but I just realized that I was gushing to you about puddinghead not knowing that you are, in fact, puddinghead and god, I feel like an idiot."

Kenma had to laugh at that before shaking his head, "It's fine, I don't get too many compliments anyway."

    "You had me simping all over you and you knock that down as compliments? Please teach me the art of modesty, senpai."

Kenma laughed some more before letting out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. You were taking breaths now yourself; you were standing beside someone who had literally inspired you to start streaming gameplay, and you had no idea that you were playing alongside him all this while until he had practically confirmed it not too long ago. Of course, a part of you felt weird that he never told you himself, but perhaps he wanted to keep it a secret. Also...

He had been watching your streams. Kenma had admitted that as himself the first time you had met. You could practically die.

    "There's this cafe down this road," You said, suddenly feeling a lot bolder, "We won't have to stand around awkwardly then."

    "Alright."

The walk wasn't quiet, you were desperately trying to think of something to talk about, and you were mumbling a few things here and there about Bloodborne, and he commented back; but neither of you found your heart in the conversation and kept going because you didn't know how to handle the silence. While you admired Kenma, Kenma was also aware that you had no idea the feelings he had for you.

It made him feel a bit inadequate, and he wasn't sure how to take it.

When you reached the cafe, Kenma and yourself took the seats outside. You took in his appearance properly for the first time that evening; his hair tied in a messy, loose ponytail and wearing baggy clothing with black jeans and sneakers. Kenma was gorgeous, you wouldn't deny that, especially now that your heart was bubbling with excitement over how he was your YouTube idol. Strangely, his question rang in your mind:

What did you picture him as, (y/n)?

Your eyes softened at Kenma as he checked his phone for a minute; unable to look away. You stared at him the way folks stare at a rainbow, taking in all that unexpected beauty, not wanting to look away in case it might disappear. You felt yourself blushing when he looked up to meet your gaze, almost feeling time stop. But, you were too much of an overthinker to let that happen.

I'm sure you pictured him as someone different, right? It must disappoint you that someone you admire is in fact, a regular college student—

    "Kozume-kun," What am I doing? "I can't picture anyone but you."

He was now staring at you like you were an idiot mumbling rubbish. He gulped, you could see the rise and fall of his adam's apple, but he wasn't saying a word.

    "A few months ago, when I started the channel on Twitch, I could do it only because of you. You inspired me to upload my own gameplay because I now had a platform to be proud of it. But as Kozumu-kun, you gave me the courage to not only be proud of my gameplay but to see what's actually important," You smiled as you said, "Fun."

    "You're giving me way too much credit."

You shook your head, "We don't always realize how little exchanges that we have with people cause ripple effects. Playing with you these past few days reminded me of what streaming for views made me forget. Views don't matter, the fun does. I let those comments get to me because the views mattered to me, and they still do. But, that's not everything. I learned that from you."

Kenma didn't know what to say.

    "So when you figured out that I was... the YouTuber—"

    "Puddinghead—"

    "—Yeah, that. Didn't you think I lied to you?"

You shook your head, "You never had a face reveal, which meant that you wanted to keep it a secret. So why would I feel like you lied? You had every reason to—"

    "Stop being so fucking adorable, it's actually pissing me off." Kenma snapped without realizing.

Both of your eyes widened—Kenma's and yours—at the words that exited his mouth. Your face was flaming at what he said, and Kenma probably felt like a suicidal ostrich. He wanted to bury his head under the ground and never rise, for that would keep him away from the embarrassment that was due; he could hear Kuroo's laughter in the distance, which made it all the worse.

    "I'm... I'm not trying to be cute, you know?" You said, tilting your head a little, playing with a strand of your hair.

Kenma frowned at you, wondering now if you were doing it on purpose.

    "What are you... doing?"

    "There's a word for it!" You pointed an index finger in the air, "Hanker sore."

Kenma scoffed, "What's that?"

    "It's finding someone so attractive that it pisses you off."

Kenma blushed, "Y-You're not all that attractive, you just... come across as cute sometimes."

Your eyes widened, "I'm a catch!"

He bit his lower lip, "Yeah, sure."

    "Hey! I am a total catch, you could like totally fall for me!"

Kenma's heart skipped a beat, "Yeah, sure."

While you were sitting across him having a struggle over how he easily pushed away your claims, Kenma stared at you like you were all he could see, and as if you were a sight that he would forget if he didn't drink in your details at this very second. A moment later, you gasped before leaning forward.

    "I think we should get something."

    "Let's actually... go get your platinum."

Your eyes widened, "You... don't mind?"

He shook his head now that he was absolutely certain, "No, let's go back."

You were beaming and thanking him, acting as if he suddenly wasn't the YouTuber you had been simping after, treating him like a separate individual that he was, behaving as you would with anyone else; Kenma's worries dissipated in thin air, he was now confident that he had fallen in love with you, mind, body, and soul—your voice had ensnared and captured him, and now, your revelation had done the deed of claiming his heart.

    "Oh, and," Kenma said, "No one will know."

You nodded before throwing him a mock salute, "Of course!"

*

You were legitimately freaking out. 

Kenma had followed you as puddinghead on your professional Twitter and you had been staring at the screen for close to an hour now. You weren't sure if the reason for your heart to be beating the way it was was because Kenma was puddinghead or because you had finally learned what puddinghead looked like, but whatever it was, the feeling was intense.

Are these feelings romantic though? You wouldn't lie, before you knew puddinghead's face, you had pictured meeting him and dating him—the regular daydreaming that a person would do for the person they were simping after. And while those thoughts were innocent, now puddinghead had a name. Puddinghead was Kozume Kenma, an attractive college student, CEO of Bouncing Ball Corp, and YouTuber. Your mind was taking you to places, and juxtaposing your previous fantasies now with Kenma's face. No, no, no, you scolded yourself before covering your face with your hand. Yes, discovering his identity is huge, but don't forget, he thinks of you as a friend!

You were about to join his party on the PSN and co-op Bloodborne again, but all you could think about were how long Kenma's fingers were when they were placed on the table before you that day when you met him in the cafe.

You were practically out of it.

    "Hey, Kozume-kun!"

    "You know you can call me Kenma, right? I call you (y/n)."

    "O-Oh," Your face reddened uncharacteristically. "R-Really?"

You heard Kenma chuckle and your heart was ready to combust, "Yeah, what's there to think about?"

Oh dear lord, "Okay. Uh... So..."

     "So."

     "Uh."

    "(y/n)?"

Fuck, "K-Kenma-kun."

Kenma had his hand covering his jaw at how cute you sounded, but you were practically jelly yourself. It wasn't easy learning the identity of your internet crush and having to play with them as friends. It wasn't easy to accept these facts and to admit that maybe, just maybe, the person that they are in real life was equally attractive.

    "We have to beat the Shadows of Yharnam today."

Did his voice always sound like velvet?

    "Hm, I've heard they were relatively easy?"

    "No," He said chuckling, "To you, they're definitely going to be a challenge."

When he chuckles, I feel like I'll die.

    "Didn't you play against them without co-op?"

    "Oh, yeah," You could practically picture him rubbing the back of his neck, "I did co-op for Gherman in the end, though."

Fuck, he's so cute!

    "What?" Kenma asked, sounding confused.

    "What?"

    "You said 'he's so cute', you mean Gherman?" You gasped, "(y/n), he's... he's an old man?"

    "Y-Yeah! Haha, I mean... Yeah. It's... I was..."

Kenma laughed before asking you to continue before you slapped yourself for making such a big fool out of yourself. Snap out of it, you scolded yourself once more. You can't like Kenma-kun just because you know he's puddinghead.

But, did you?

As days passed, you exchanged numbers with Kenma. Texting him was relatively easy since he barely tried to keep the conversation alive and you just had so much to say. Sometimes, Kenma believed he might be boring, but you kept texting him as if his personality wasn't really that much of a bother. He wasn't much of a texter, and you had caught on, a fact that didn't actually bother you. Kenma, however, would never leave you on read, would try to reply within the hour even though he doesn't text as often.

Your mind, however, revolved around the heart he had once sent you as puddinghead.

You were re-reading the tweets almost every night, and juxtaposing the image of an empty face with Kenma's. For some reason, puddinghead's image was slowly erasing itself from your mind; you became less fascinated with the YouTube persona, but instead, looked forward to hearing from his real-life identity, trying to know more about his day, about his other interests, and having learned that he was from Nekoma blew your mind since he was from a rival school.

Kenma and you often met at the cafe again, just to grab a few snacks and talk about games. It would be you most of the time who would be initiating conversation, and Kenma would listen and retort when he felt the need to. However, not once did you feel like he wasn't listening; not once did Kenma make you think you weren't keeping him engaged. His eyes were on you, his intense gaze enough to burn you to the ground. It practically had you shivering.

Your mind, however, still continued to revolve around the heart he had once sent you as puddinghead.

    "I might need to go to a volleyball game soon—"

    "Why did you send me a heart?"

Kenma froze before meeting your gaze. "What?"

You almost wanted to slap yourself but you had said it. You couldn't hold it back, you couldn't keep mulling over your thoughts and therefore, you decided to tell the source of your problems what your problems were.

    "Kenma-kun, I... I had a big crush on puddinghead," Kenma's gaze on you was unwavering, "Now that I know you're puddinghead, and... and you were the one who sent me a heart, I... I've always thought you were cute and all—"

    "(y/n)—"

    "—and it's a bit unfair if I like you only because you're puddinghead, but I gave it a lot of thought—"

    "—(y/n), listen—"

    "—and I don't want you thinking that my feelings are just because you're a famous YouTuber and I just want to like... I don't know... I enjoy every second with you and slowly I just—"

Kenma's finger tapped your forehead, freezing you in position. His cat-like eyes were boring into your soul, and there he was, face inches away from yours, expressionlessly staring into you.

    "I've been in love with you for the longest time," Kenma's voice was gold, "No pressure, though."

    "No..." What the fuck? "N-No pressure?!"

Kenma laughed at your outburst, "Yeah, I mean... I took sometime accepting it, to even think that I liked you over the internet didn't make sense to me. And then we bumped into each other and we started gaming together and I guess I understood that your internet persona was just a part of you I'd liked, and now I like you more."

Oh.

Was it really that simple?

    "So... If I liked you as puddinghead—"

    "Please don't call me that."

    "—and if I like you as Kenma-kun, then..."

Kenma sighed before offering you a sweet smile, "It's probably the same thing, (y/n). Stop worrying."

    "Can I kiss you?" You blurted out, without thought.

God, this woman, Kenma thought, before covering his jaw with his hand.

*

In less than a week, you'd learned the route to Kenma's apartment by heart. You went over to game at his place, and slowly began streaming as (y/n) again on Twitch. You didn't want to stream with Kenma yet, because you guys had just started dating a month ago. For liking you longer than you liked him, Kenma was relatively cool about you hanging over at his, and about initiating any sort of touch—because your thoughts were practically spilling out of you and as cute as he once thought they were, he didn't want you to say 'pinch me' every time he kissed you.

Kenma's hands were buried into your hair as he kissed you fervently, softly at first before pulling back to see how flushed your face was. He'd never really imagined you being here, out of the screen he saw you from, in his arms, kissing him back.

He chuckled at the thought.

    "What's so funny?" You were legitimately a crackhead, but he adored you.

    "I thought having a crush on you was very inconvenient at first."

    "Why?"

He shrugged before pulling you to his chest, your face reddening at the contact. He noticed, but simply shook his head as you buried your face into his chest.

    "Because I thought it was too good to be true."

    "Am I the one freaking out each time or are you?"

    "Yeah, that part even I don't get."

You giggled before wrapping your hands around his neck, bringing yourself closer to him. Your face was at the crook of his neck, eyes closed as his arms were wrapped around your waist. You were both currently on Kenma's couch, nuzzling with each other on a lazy class-less Monday.

Suddenly, the door opened, revealing Kenma's roommate, in all honesty, did not know how to react when a famous Twitch streamer was lying asleep on his roommate. Kenma gave him a nonchalant look before placing a finger on his lips.

    "She's asleep."

    "Y-Yeah, that's definitely what I was thinking." The roommate said before rushing to his room and locking the door.

Well, Kenma thought before bringing his hand back around your waist, That's a problem for another day.

[fancoloredglasses]

B.C.: A Special Christmas (because nothing says Christmas like cavemen)

(Thanks to The Christmas Channel)

[All images are owned by Embassy Video and Creators Syndicate. Please don’t sue me]

Thanks to psychelynx for the suggestion

For those who have never heard of the daily comic strip known as B.C., all you need to know is it’s about a bunch of cavemen in a pseudo-prehistoric setting (that are funnier than the ones in the Geico ads)

(Thanks to CiaraLaS)

The strip, along with The Wizard of Id, were produced by Johnny Hart literally until his death in 2007 (he died at his drawing board), when his grandson took over.

I’ll introduce most of the characters as the review progresses, but there are two in particular I want to address:

The sole female members of the cast didn’t get official names until 2019, where they were named (left to right) Jane and Grace. Given their original names were (and please don’t hurt me; I’m just reporting facts) “the fat broad” and “the cute chick” respectively, I’m surprised it took that long to rename them (in fact, it wasn’t until I did research for this review that I realized they actually had names!)

Now, seeing as when this special had come out, I should use the names they had at the time (and what they were called in the special)...but since I have many female friends (including my best friend, whose name is on my marriage license) who would likely kill me if I did so, they will be called Jane and Grace during this review.

The special starred legendary comedy duo Bob and Ray as the two characters the series focuses on (I’ll point them out later)

(Thanks to Our Nostalgic Memories)

If you would like to view this special, it’s available on YouTube.

We open with Thor (the local inventor, creator of all of the modern conveniences, such as the wheel) observing a pair of ants using a structure that looks a lot like Stonehenge...

This in and of itself isn’t that unusual for B.C., as the animals are a bit anthropomorphic. However, the ants note that the position of the morning star is a bit off for this time of year.

After checking himself, he decides he needs to check his calendar (that he also invented) to see what day it is. Problem is, he loaned it out and can’t remember who has it. So we have a not-at-all convoluted way to introduce the cast.

First up is Clumsy Carp (three guesses how he got that name), who was asleep with his head in the river (maybe he is a carp!), but he doesn’t have it (you’ll start to see a pattern here)

Next up is the Fat ...err, JANE (I should note that she has a bit of a temper and zero patience for the guys’ BS), who’s a little pissed that Thor woke her up, and no she doesn’t have it either.

Next up is the Cute Grace. I’m guessing Thor left with something, but it wasn’t a calendar, since she also doesn’t have it.

Next up is Curls (the sarcastic one) Nope.

Then B.C. (the everycaveman) wanders by. Uh-uh.

Finally we come to Peter (voiced by Bob, and has the ethics of a used wheel salesman), who does indeed have the calendar. When Peter asks what day Thor thinks it is, Thor does some quick figures and deduces it should be the 24th...

If Thor could figure it out in his head, why did he need to look at the calendar?! Also, the first calendar with December wasn’t created until 46 BC. So are we to assume these cavemen are late bloomers?

As Peter kicks Thor out...

...a flower explosively sprouts from the ground. Peter is pissed that a plant caused his home to cave in and rips it from the ground. At that point, Grace wanders by, so he gives it to her. Grace rewards him with a peck on the cheek.

Peter then goes to the cave of Wiley (the local poet, voiced by Ray) to describe how it felt to give things to people. It gave him a revelation...

“There’s a buck to be made here!”

Peter tells Wiley to come up with some sort of bullshit legend they “discovered” while digging for clams that they can hoodwink the others with.

They decide to create a being that comes around once a year. Wiley suggest the being needs “sanitary claws”, so Peter names him Santa (I’ve heard worse reasoning...) When the discussion comes around to what to sell in Santa’s name, Wiley suggests making trees a symbol of the legend. And since this is an annual event, they sell “X amount of gifts to the masses”

Naturally, they call the event X-Mass.

Now it comes around to describing Santa. There are a few missteps, such as...

 ...before settling on the Santa we all know and love. Now, as to how he gets around, how about a wheel?

Probably not. What about a toboggan? (wait, they have toboggans in prehistoric times?) Finally, Wiley comes up with a sleigh with flying reindeer, figuring the story’s already gone over the deep end anyway.

That night at the campfire, the group buys it hook, line, and reindeer. Peter proposes the X-Mass should be celebrated in 2 days, on December 26th, to allow him and Wiley time to set up shop.

However...

...the boys’ creative minds may have wrought something they no longer control, for as the night progressed...

...Santa dropped off personalized gifts (much better than the gift-wrapped rocks Peter intends to sell) and trees to everyone as they slept, wishing them all “Merry Christmas” (NOT “X-Mass”)

The next morning, as the gift shop opens...

...everyone shows up crowing about the cool stuff Santa left them, then asks what Peter and Wiley got. They stammer a bit about mittens and a sock respectively until everyone suggests celebrating a day early. Dejected, Peter and Wiley head back to their caves and discover...

Peter grabs the long red hat and runs out gleeful. It turns out Wiley had a similar setup in his cave with a pair of red mittens. Wiley calls Peter’s hat a “stump sock” and Peter really likes Wiley’s mittens, so they exchange gifts and wish each other a Merry Christmas (NOT “X-Mass”)

That evening...

So now we’re to assume that not only were there cavemen as late as the birth of Jesus, but they lived near Jerusalem?! This special is all over the fucking place!

Anyway, we get a muzak version of Away in a Manger as the closing credits roll

Merry X-Mass everyone!

[florenceandthemachine]

@hearteyesforbuck asked:

I have been dying for a meet-cute au where Eddie takes Chris to the gym once a week and they box a little together before Eddie spars; usually Chris sits by the ring and reads but one day Eddie finds him laying on a bench, lifting an empty bar while this really cute blond guy spots him and gives him encouragement ....

guess who’s asks are still broken?

Tumblr keeps adding the “Read More” into the ask box, which breaks the entire post when I try to post it. Why is it happening? No idea, but if anyone knows how to fix it, please let me know, this is getting really old.

anyway, fun fact that I just learned about myself—if you want me to dedicate 100% of my brainpower to writing 4.5k of something in one sitting, you just throw in Christopher Diaz.

Eddie liked to think of himself as some kind of a “do it yourself” kind of dad.

Most of the time, that was a good thing.

Kitchen faucet broke? No worries, Eddie has some plumbers tape and three different YouTube videos telling him how to fix it.

Car wouldn’t start? Not a problem, Eddie bought the full repair manual offline and knows his way around a wrench.

Christopher needed forty gluten free, egg free, dairy free cupcakes for class tomorrow? Eddie was perfectly capable of... admitting when he was outmatched by a stand mixer and calling thirteen local bakeries to see if they delivered, because his car still wasn’t starting.

Point is, if there was a way he could work on something, Eddie would at least try it—and needless to say, that got a little complicated where Christopher was involved.

Eddie still wanted to do a lot of it on his own. Chris was his kid, and no one else's, and he didn’t even like being away from him while Chris was at school—he wasn’t sure if that was guilt stemming from leaving Chris as a kid, or guilt about introducing Shannon back into his life only to have her wind up dead, or guilt about... well, pick-a-thing, but he was pretty damn sensitive about what he perceived he could do to help his kid.

Which is why, when Chris’ physical therapist gave Eddie some suggestions about how Chris could work on strength training at home, Eddie dove completely into the deep end, head first, no floaties.

Working on Chris’ fine motor skills had been cake. Writing, drawing, arts and crafts, even playing video games, all helped improve Chris’ hand eye coordination (and if Eddie ran out of room on the fridge for Chris’ masterpieces and started framing them instead, well, that was his own business, no matter how nosy the busybodies at Michael’s got).

Working on his gross motor skills, though, that was another story. They could go on walks, sure, and they did every day. Eddie could hook up the trail-a-bike to his own once or twice a week so Chris could ride along with him, without worrying about his balance, but those were both leg heavy activities—and while it was great that Chris was building his core strength and leg strength, Eddie wasn’t about to just strap a wrist weight to Chris’ arms and call it a ‘well rounded workout’.

Short of more physical therapy, Eddie was at a loss as to what to do—so when Google Maps pushed him off the 101 to avoid a wreck on his way home from work and he got caught by a stop light right next to "Ricky’s Boxing Gym”, Eddie felt like his prayers had been answered.

Over the next few months, they had set up a pretty good routine. Eddie would bring Chris to the gym, they would hop into one of the many rings, and he and his son would get a half hour of quality time, three times a week. Eddie had his own set of boxing mitts, and Chris thought that spending a half hour trying to punch his dad’s hand was the most fun a kid could have after school. Chris would tire himself out and sit on the bench, drawing or reading for a while more, while Eddie would actually spar with one of the staff members, get his own workout in, and then they’d go home.

Nine times out of ten, they’d stop for ice cream or pizza, and completely undo any of the workout they had actually done, but Eddie thought that was a small price to pay for the whoop of joy Chris let out when he actually managed to hit Eddie’s glove dead center.

Eddie’s sparring partner of choice (well, after Chris) was Tommy Kinard. He was nice enough, and kept Eddie on his toes, giving him plenty of time to look over to Chris to make sure he was safe, and happy, and occupied, and (“Dad, I’m fine! Go punch someone!”) okay, maybe he was helicoptering a little bit. He hadn’t really thought it was a problem until Kinard went on paternity leave, leaving him in the capable, and brutal, hands of Boscoe.

Boscoe was a beast. He didn’t know her first name—didn’t know if she had a first name—but what she lacked in pleasantries she more than made up with strength. If Eddie was being honest, though, he kind of loved it; even after the first day they sparred together, when he wound up limping into the 118, proudly admitting to Hen that he had been beat up by a girl.

The thing was, Boscoe was intense, and while that was a good thing, it gave him less of a chance to helicopter over Chris.

Which, okay, maybe that was a good thing too. Whatever.

He knew the gym pretty well by that point, and knew the people who worked there, knew he could trust Chris with any of them—which is why when he looked up after dodging a jab from Boscoe, and saw Chris absent from his bench, he only panicked a little bit.

When he managed to take a wider look around the gym and saw a familiar pair of shoes laying down on a workout bench, the rest of him obscured by a bigger, bulkier body, that panic went from 0-60 real quick.

“Hey!”

He only barely managed to dodge a glancing blow from Boscoe as he ducked beneath the ropes, grabbing a towel to blot at his face as he hopped down. His voice was little more than a quick bark through the gym as he stepped around another group of machines, his frantic pace slowing a little as he got into earshot.

“... yeah, come on buddy, you can do it! Come on, give me one more rep! You got this little man!”

Fuck, had this stranger actually given Chris a set of weights?

His temper was white hot by the time he finally got around the front of the machine, opening his mouth to shout, to get a manager, to do something, but the words died in his throat as he took in the scene before him.

Because Chris was definitely on the bench, and he definitely had his hands on the bar—the bar that was completely devoid of weights, Eddie noticed, the same bar that had two much larger, stronger hands attached to them. Hands that were probably doing all the actual work of lifting the bar, because Chris was laying back, unable to speak, because he was giggling so hard.

The bar landed back on the rack with a dull thunk as Chris pulled his hands back, sticking them straight up in the air triumphantly as he sat up. The man behind the bar gave a big show of leaning against the frame of the bench dramatically, fanning himself, giving Eddie a full view of an employee shirt, name badge, and the gym logo stitched across the polo he was wearing.

Whelp, that was almost very embarrassing for him.

“Holy cow, that was such a good job! Man, you have got to be the strongest kid I’ve ever met in my life!”

“Dad, did you see me? Buck says I’m super strong!”

Eddie had to admit, he was a little thrown by whatever was happening here, but Chris was obviously having a good time, and he felt the white hot anger dissipate into something a little less angry and a little more embarrassed.

“That was some pretty impressive work, buddy! Have you been holding out on me?” Eddie dipped down and tossed a few playful jabs at Chris, selfish only because he wanted to prolong the joy his son was obviously feeling, but it was all worth it as he was handsomely rewarded when Chris started giggling again.

The man—Buck, Eddie gathered—laughed, drawing Eddie’s attention upward, and for a moment, his brain short circuited, because there was no way on earth a gym rat could be this... pretty.

Because damn. Buck was pretty.

Pretty enough that Eddie was easily distracted, waxing poetic (internally, thankfully) about beefy arms and a plush lip that he didn’t notice what was happening until Buck stuck a hand out, smiling, and Eddie could only guess what was going on. He reached out and took the hand, his own smile hitching as Buck’s face slipped into confusion.

“Uhh—”

“...I was asking if you wanted me to take your towel for you and get you a fresh one.”

Oh. Right. Towel.

Eddie’s face burned as he pulled the towel off his shoulder, handing it over, giving a too-tight laugh as he nodded his head. “Yes! If you could get me a new towel so I could strangle myself in embarrassment, that would be great.”

Well, at the very least, that got Buck to laugh again—death would be worth it if that was the last sound he heard. “Sorry I kind of stole your kid. He was wandering in between the machines, and it’s my first week off of the evening shift, so I just wanted to make sure he didn’t get hurt—but then he started asking about all the weights and pulleys and stuff, you have a really smart kid!”

Total Gym Hottie (Buck, his mind corrected. If he was going to drool over someone the least he could do was use their name) was complimenting his kid now, and Eddie was so star struck he was actually proud to say he didn’t stumble when Buck nudged his shoulder, head jerking back to the ring he had abandoned.

"...anyway, I think strangulation is the least of your worries, if I know that look, Boscoe has an entirely different death planned for you if you don’t get back in the ring. Go on, I’ll help little man here wheel you out on a gurney when she’s done with you.”

Buck sounded way too positive about that, and it was all Eddie could do to groan and walk back to the ring, tail between his legs.

Sure enough, even after he had the next day off, he was still sore when he walked into the 118 for his next shift.

--

Buck became easily, seamlessly, a part of their routine, in a way that probably deserved a little more insight on Eddie’s part, but insight was for suckers. At least two days out of the week, their schedules aligned—Eddie and Chris still worked on their exercises, but now it included Buck giving a dramatic play by play on the sidelines, talking up Chris like an announcer, or just otherwise causing shenanigans.

It was worth it, easily, because while Chris was certainly never a negative kid, Eddie had never seen him in brighter spirits. And Buck... well, anyone that could find a way to help out his son in a way that Chris clearly enjoyed earned an instant gold star in Eddie’s book. The fact that he was easy on the eyes wasn’t a bad thing, either.

“Diaz, I swear to God—”

Eddie only barely ducked under Boscoe’s extended hand, forcibly rooting himself back in the moment, looking guiltily back to her instead of watching Buck and Chris.

“—can you pay attention for like three minutes so I can hit you without feeling bad about it?”

Eddie tried, he really did, but it was hard. A few weeks had gone by since their initial meeting, and Eddie had gone from “wow he’s pretty” to “full high school crush” in no time flat. It wasn’t his fault, though—because what sealed the deal wasn’t the moment Buck had switched to tank tops over polos, or how happy Eddie was to spend time staring at Buck’s magnificent ass (and it was really, really magnificent, let the record show), it was how he interacted with Chris that sent him over the edge.

Buck was good with Chris, but somehow that was the understatement of the year. He was kind, and he was bubbly, and he was just in sync in a way that Eddie wasn’t even sure he had reached, and Chris was his son. Buck was patient in a way that seemed effortless, easily slowing himself down or changing what he was doing when he noticed Chris struggling, wether it was in going over a math problem while Eddie got the crap beat out of him or just showing him how some of the different machines worked.

Hell, right now, Eddie had his hands securely around Chris’ hips as he lifted the other male to a chin-up bar, helping Chris count out the pull-up’s he was doing—and while all Eddie could hear was Chris’ laughter, all he could see were the thick cords of muscle attached to Buck’s arms, lifting Chris like he weighed nothing.

Eddie wondered, not for the first time, if Buck could lift him like that.

Like she was a horrible mind reading pervert, Boscoe smacked him with an open hand—not hard enough to hurt, but not soft enough that he was going to ignore it.

“Diaz, this will be our last session together. Kinard is back next week—” Another punch, a quick jab that Eddie blocked with his forearms. “—so the least you could do is focus on me and not the apple of your eye over there.”

“Buck isn’t the apple of my—fuck—my eye, grow up.” Eddie huffed as he threw out a punch of his own, his hand knocked away violently, only barely dodging the sharp hook that Boscoe sent to him.

“God, I was talking about your kid, Diaz. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

Oh.

Ignoring how red his face was, Eddie grumbled and threw another quick jab, though he missed completely as Boscoe stepped back, a grin on her face, and Eddie knew better than to trust that look. The last time he trusted that look, he had been talked into fighting bare-handed, and he still wasn’t sure his knuckles would ever really work again.

“You know, Kinard is supposed to take you back as a client, but I bet if you asked nice enough...”

Oh no.

“Hey, Buck!”

Oh no. Eddie looked up in horror as Buck easily lifted Christopher onto his shoulders—god, so much muscle—and jogged over, with the nerve to not even be out of breath when he smiled up to the pair in the ring. Eddie bit his tongue and leaned over to high five his kid, fully prepared to deal with whatever terrible thing was about to come his way.

“Kinard was supposed to take Diaz here back after he’s off leave next week, but I know he wanted to ease back into things after being away from the gym for a few months. You think you could spar with him in the interim?”

Oh, no, didn’t seem to cover it anymore. Eddie was having a hard enough time focusing on the task at hand when Buck was in the same building, he would be signing his own death certificate if he had to stare Buck in the face, and then try to hit said face. He hadn’t even seen Buck break a sweat before—he didn’t know if his little bisexual heart could take it.

He was somehow both relieved and regretful when Buck shook his head, looking plenty apologetic as he pulled Chris up and off of his shoulders, making sure that he was steady on his feet before he leaned up against the ropes. “Sorry, Eddie. I don’t really box, and besides, I think Chris and I are making real progress while you get your butt kicked. Show him the guns, Chris!” Buck said, and Chris immediately started some classic strong-man poses, Buck posing dramatically behind him, and Eddie felt his heart melt for two entirely different reasons.

Buck turned around mid pose as the door chime went off, giving Eddie ample time to count out the individual strands of muscle fiber in the moment before Buck relaxed, turning with a smile back to the gang in the ring. “Lena, that's my next client. Chris, Eddie, I’ll see you both next week, yeah?” He said with a grin before he fist bumped Chris and waved to Eddie, slipping back into Professional Buck mode. Eddie waved back, brows almost in his hairline as he looked back to Boscoe, who was scowling at him.

“So—”

“No, Diaz.”

“Wait, why not? Buck gets to call you Lena!”

“Beat me in the ring as often as Buck does and I’ll consider it.”

Eddie had his mouth open to retort when Chris cut him off, pushing his glasses up on his nose as he tilted his head. “Can I call you Lena?”

She didn’t even hesitate a moment, nodding her head seriously. “You can absolutely call me Lena, squirt.”

Chris promptly stuck his tongue out at his dad, and Eddie reacted in sort, falling to the floor of the ring as he grabbed at his chest. “The nerve! Betrayed by my own child, my own flesh and blood!”

Chris looked thoroughly unimpressed, sitting back on the bench as he started to pack up his schoolwork. “Lena, can you tell my dad to stop being such a drama queen?”

It wasn’t until they were both in the car, that Eddie, thoroughly beaten down by his son, his trainer, and his own brain for providing a play by play of Buck that day while he was in the locker room shower stall, really thought about what Buck said.

He didn’t box. Which was strange enough in a boxing gym, but whatever, there were plenty of machines that Buck could be working on instead.

But them Boscoe (god, he couldn’t even call her Lena in his head, it felt like she would figure it out and beat him to death) basically admitted that Buck regularly whooped her behind the ropes

If Buck wasn’t boxing in a boxing gym, what the hell was he doing?

--

As it turned out, Eddie didn’t have to wait long to figure it out. Barely a week had passed before Eddie had received a call from Chim, all but begging Eddie to switch shifts so he could take the girl he had been seeing out on a proper date. The switch was a no brainer—Maddie seemed like a great girl, and as much shit as he gave Chim for... well, being Chim, he obviously wanted to see his teammate happy, especially when the only thing he would have to change was a gym day from a Monday to a Sunday.

If he had known that this would be the day that sealed his fate, he probably would have reconsidered the switch all together.

The gym was packed—which probably wasn’t surprising for a weekend day, but damn, Eddie had been glad he booked a ring with Kinard ahead of time. It was nice to see a familiar face in the gym anyway, one that wasn’t trying to beat the crap out of him in the ring, and once Kinard joined up with them, it was easy to shoot the shit. Eddie congratulated him on his step into fatherhood, ruffling Chris’ hair as he did—not that Chris noticed, busy scanning through the machines for a familiar blond head.

Not that Eddie could judge, when he was doing the same thing.

“Hey, I’m gonna toss my stuff in a locker. See you out here in a sec?”

“Yeah, sounds good! Buck and Boscoe are almost done in their ring, we have it next.”

Eddie was halfway to the locker room before what Kinard had said clicked in his brain, and he immediately did a 180, making a beeline to the rings set up on the far side of the gym, easily spotting the pair when he knew what to look for.

It was no wonder that neither he nor Chris had recognized Buck when they walked in—he was literally drenched in sweat, his usually fluffy blonde hair dark and slicked to his forehead, scowling around his mouth guard as he danced around Boscoe.

Boscoe, who Eddie had never seen so worked up. Damn, she really hadn’t even had to try during his matches. Wasn’t that a blow to the ego.

No, Buck definitely wasn’t a boxer, because this was a dance. Every move he made, he made with his entire body, his energy flowing through each form, moving easily and gracefully in a way that shouldn’t have been possible with such an incredible amount of force and flat out violence. He almost felt dazed as he followed Buck’s movements, but in the best possible way, his eyes snapping back and forth as he tried to trace where one hit ended and the next began.

“Wow.”

Eddie was glad that Chris said it, because he still couldn’t find the muscles needed to pick his jaw up off the floor. He didn’t know if Chris had followed him over to the ring or if his Buck-radar was just that good, but for the time being, Eddie was more than thankful for the minute distraction as he ruffled his kids hair again.

Boscue was moving more desperately as the match continued, launching into a series of quick jabs, but even Eddie could see where that was her downfall. Buck knocked her arm back with her last punch and sent a kick straight for her shoulder, but then he twisted his entire body off of the mat and his other leg was in the air too, and Eddie instinctively sucked in a breath as Buck locked her neck between his thighs. They both came crashing down to the mat, struggling impressively until Boscoe slapped Buck’s thigh twice, and then—

—and then Buck was all smiles again, beaming as he released her and took a knee on the ring, helping her back into a sitting position, spitting out his mouth guard with an excited moment of praise for her technique.

Eddie could not compute. This was his downfall. Eddie is dead, long live Eddie.

“Holy cow, Buck! That was amazing! You’re like... you’re like a ninja crime fighting super hero!”

Well, that was one way to put it.

Buck’s head whipped around at Chris’ excited outburst, lighting up when he spotted Eddie and Chris near the bench, eagerly scooting forward into a sitting position closer to the ropes.

“Thanks, little man! That was some mixed martial arts, it’s super fun. I’ve been teaching Lena for a few years, she’s getting pretty good!”

Buck’s grin slid into something a little more proud and pleased as he looked to Eddie, and Eddie felt every muscle in his body tighten as Buck’s gaze burned through him.

“What did you think of that leg lock, Eddie? Total knock out, right?”

Oh fuck, was Buck flirting with him now? That had to have been flirty, right? Come on, Brain, do something.

“... legs.”

“...my legs?”

“Buck, your... your legs.”

Buck’s smile looked a little more pinched as Eddie groaned, shaking his head. “Okay, I, I’m sorry, but I have to ask you this or I will completely die. Can I take you out to dinner sometime? I know a great place off the strip, you’ll love it, my treat.”

The look on Buck’s face was skeptical, at best, but at least he wasn’t shutting him down, giving Eddie the benefit of the doubt (and giving him a moment to get his brain back online). “Because of my legs?”

“No. Well, okay, you have amazing legs. And arms, though, and like... a stupidly handsome face, and I would be blind not to notice those things—” shit, Eddie probably sounded like such a shallow asshole right now. “—but I’m asking because you’re really smart. And you’re kind, so kind to Chris too, and you’re patient, and... Buck, you’re really really sweet. And I would love to take you out for a dinner date the moment you can look past my apparent inability to form a single coherent thought.”

After a moment that felt much longer than the three seconds it was, Buck sighed and leaned past Eddie, looking critically to Chris. He slid down to his stomach, squinting as he dropped down to eye level with the boy. “What do you think, Chris? Should I give your dad a shot?”

Well, at the very least, Buck was asking the one person that Eddie knew he always had in his corner; and sure enough, Chris delivered. “I think so. Dad really likes you.”

That’s his boy.

“Last week he spent my whole entire physical therapy appointment telling Dr. Wilson how much help you gave me and how nice you were and how much he appreciated it. It got kinda annoying.”

...well damn, Eddie wasn’t expecting to be called out by his own kid like that, but if the suddenly soft look Buck was giving him was any indication, it might have been the necessary push to get him to understand how serious Eddie was.

Eddie tried to keep his excitement tamped down when Buck nodded, sitting back up. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll make you a deal. Only because you managed to ask me out before I could ask you.”

Wait, Buck wanted to ask him out anyway?

“If you can land three hits on me in three minutes—should be easy after spending a weeks with Boscoe—then you can pick the time, the place, and I’ll even talk Lena in to letting you call her Lena. But if you don’t...” Buck reached through the ropes to help Eddie up, tossing him a wrap for his hands as he did. “... then I get to pick the time, the place, and you start training with me in MMA instead of going back to boring old boxing.”

Eddie blinked at him in abject horror as Buck dipped his voice low, seeing with terrible clarity exactly where Boscoe had learned her terrifying grin.

“That way you can see my leg choke up close and personal. Deal?”

The stakes were too high, and Eddie couldn’t say no.

He was screwed.

He was elated.

But fuck, he was screwed.

(Three minutes later, Buck asked if Eddie was free on Friday at seven, promised to pick somewhere nice, and gave him a searing kiss before he disappeared into the staff locker room. Eddie, on the other hand, needed a spatula to peel himself off of the floor of the ring.

He had never been so happy that he could barely move in his life.)

[elisela]

take my whole life, too buck x eddie, 1.4k, vermont verse for @extasiswings and @tylerhunklin because that cellist fic inspired me and chapel said !!!!!!!!!!! so here’s eddie learning to play the guitar because i only know how to play the ukulele and eddie would never choose that so close enough.

Eddie’s not sure why he does it.

Well, that’s not true—they’re in Bobby’s backyard on a warm July night, the kids running around with sparklers, popping little plastic champagne bottles full of confetti over people’s heads when they’re not looking. Eddie’s standing near the grill with Michael and Bobby (he may not be able to cook but he’s from Texas, okay, he knows how to barbecue), recounting some of his funnier stories about being in the military (he can joke about it now, doesn’t feel like choking whenever he mentions it) when Buck’s bright laughter draws his gaze.

“So he starts singing this song and I swear I was so close to losing it,” Maddie says, “I had to pretend to be sick so I could run to the bathroom and laugh.”

He’s not sure what they’re talking about, but they look happy, relaxed, and then Buck says—

“I always wished someone would serenade me.”

And somehow, Eddie’s at a music store the next day in Burlington, buying a guitar.

--

Eddie’s never liked being an amateur. It’s not that he dislikes learning, or thinks he should be great at everything right away, but he feels too deeply the judging looks that people will give (whether they’re in his imagination or not is another story), so his original plan had been: buy a guitar online, hide it, practice like crazy until he could get a simple song out, sing to Buck.

He falls into a Buck-esque research spiral after they leave Bobby’s house that night, googling guitars on his phone and watching “learn to play” youtube videos until 3am, when Buck rolls over in his sleep and slides his hands over Eddie’s stomach and down lower, until Eddie drops his phone on the floor accidentally and then somehow it’s 4am and Buck is breathing hard against him and they both need a shower.

Regardless, he’d learned a few things: don’t buy a guitar online, and it’s really easy to play C and F major.

It comes in handy at the store; luckily, he’s not the only one there so he waves off the bored-looking clerk and looks over the wall of guitars, drawn to the two-tone ones; he reads the signs and tries to look like he knows what he’s doing but in the end he picks up one that proclaims it has a Sitka spruce top and mahogany back, strums the two chords he’d learned from trying to memorize a chord chart in the middle of the night, and buys it without looking at the price tag.

… he probably should have looked at the price tag.

--

Given Eddie’s abundance of free time, it’s pretty easy to hide what he’s doing, which is good, because he is objectively terrible at playing the guitar. His fingers feel clumsy; he’d never played an instrument before, favored extra history classes in high school over band, and he had thought that the easy rhythm he can find while dancing would transfer over, but strum patterns and counts get tangled up somewhere between his brain and his fingers and he ends up off-beat and confused halfway through a song. He tries doing things properly, working through a beginner’s book he bought online and hides in the bottom drawer of his desk, but just picking simple melodies and occasional chords frustrates him and he ends up shoving the guitar in the attic for two weeks before he gives in and does what he’d wanted to do all along—follow along with YouTube videos.

He spends three days looking up songs that only use a few basic chords and finally settles on a simplified version of Can’t Help Falling in Love With You, because Buck loves sappy and Eddie loves Buck, and no one needs to know how when he sings it, he thinks about the first time he saw Buck standing on the porch, crouching down to talk to Christopher, bright smile and laugh lighting up Eddie’s life.

For a simple song it takes him a frustratingly long time to learn it, but finally, he’s ready for the last part of the plan: sing it to Buck.

Oh, shit.

He has to sing it.

--

In middle school, Eddie’s choir teacher called them over to the corner of the room one at a time and had them sing a few lines so she could determine their voice classifications. Her face had been neutral while listening to him, but a few weeks later while they were singing The Lion Sleeps Tonight, she’d pulled Eddie and Robbie Martin to the side and said, “you know boys, no one will notice if you just mouth the words.”

Eddie mouthed the words.

--

So, Eddie makes a new plan. He needed one anyway, because it’s not like he could just pull Buck into the office after work and sing to him, no. Buck wants to be serenaded, and that demands certain things.

Like getting his son out of the house, for one. No offense to Christoper, but he doesn’t need his extremely sarcastic eleven year old around while he’s trying to be romantic.

That’s easy enough, though, given that Denny is at his house daily after school—a single text message to Karen and he’s got the house to himself Saturday night and most of the day Sunday.

He sucks it up and calls Sophia for advice on how to do the rest, hangs up on her after two minutes of her laughing and calls Adriana instead. He always knew she was his favorite sister (okay she wasn’t, but she certainly is now), because she squeals excitedly and he has to ask her to slow the rapid flow of words so he can actually understand her.

By the time Saturday morning rolls around, he’s ready. He spreads a picnic blanket out in the far corner of their yard, under the sugar maple trees and near the fire-pit Buck had dug out the summer before they got married, packs a picnic basket with snacks, and sends Chris over to Hen’s just after lunch. He spends the rest of the day with Buck; they drive a well-known route through the changing trees, holding hands and trading kisses across the center console whenever Eddie stops at a red light. He takes him out to his favorite farm-to-table restaurant in Waterbury, then brings him home and takes out his secret weapon: bourbon sours.

--

Buck is a happy but sloppy drunk, but Eddie’s learned over the years that there’s a point in Buck’s drinking that is optimal for him: happy and affectionate, his hands roaming all over Eddie’s body and his mouth spilling words of adoration.

That’s the place Eddie’s trying to find tonight.

It takes a few hours, time he spends making out with his husband while wrapped up in his arms, sprawled out across the blanket with their legs tangled together. Finally, after Buck spends at least five minutes talking about the perfect softness of Eddie’s bottom lip (five minutes because he’s kept interrupting himself to kiss Eddie), he excuses himself under the guise of getting water, grabs his guitar, and heads back outside.

Buck’s sitting up, leaning back to look at the stars—the view isn’t as good as it was in El Paso when he’d drive out of town and into the desert, but it’s decent enough, and it means Buck doesn’t see him coming until he sits down next to him. He’s not sure what to say so he doesn’t, just strums a few chords and when he knows he has Buck’s attention, he starts to sing.

His voice shakes, and he transitions to the wrong chord at one point and has to hope Buck doesn’t notice, but he gets through it. He stares down the whole time, both because he’s not great at finding his fingering without looking and because he’s terrified to look at Buck’s face and see a hint of judgement, or amusement, or—anything, really. So when he finished and finally looks up, he’s a little stunned to see tear tracks glinting off Buck’s cheeks in the low light of the dying fire.

“Eddie,” he whispers, “I love you so much.”

And then Buck’s moving the guitar, setting it down gently at the edge of the blanket, and pressing Eddie backwards as he straddles his hips and leans down to kiss him.

“I love you,” Buck whispers, and Eddie feels him everywhere, hands on his arms and waist, “I love you,” wet lips kissing across his jaw up to his lips, “I love you, Eddie, I love you.”

Eddie sings to him again.

[cctinsleybaxter]

2020 in books

2020 was a year of changed reading habits; people reading more than ever or not at all, some changing their tastes and others turning to old comforts. While there weren’t any huge overhauls on my end, more free time did mean a total of 32 in a wider range of genres. In the past couple of years I found a lot of the things I read to be kind of middling and ranked them accordingly, but this year had some strong contenders in the mix. With college officially behind me I love nonfiction again, and I really need to stop being drawn in by novels with long titles that ‘sound interesting.’ A piece of advice to my future self: they will only make you angry.

The Good

The Idiot by Fyodor Dostoevsky I loved the BBC radio play when I first listened to it back in 2017, but didn’t know if I could stomach the idea of actually reading the 700-page book, especially since I already knew the plot (spoiler alert: this had no effect and I gasped multiple times despite knowing what was going to happen; Fyodor’s just that good at atmosphere.) The story follows Prince Lev Myshkin, a goodhearted but troubled man entering 1860s Petersburg high society and meeting all of the wretched people therein as he navigates life, laughs, love, unanswerable questions of faith, and human suffering. I care about it in the same way I think other people care about reality TV shows and soap operas. I’m so personally invested in the drama and feel so many different emotions directed at these clowns that it’s like being a fan of Invitation to Love (with an ending equally upsetting to that of the show ITL is from, Twin Peaks.)

Salt: A World History by Mark Kurlanksy I adored this book. The first half reads a little like a Wikipedia article, and I was worried that it was leaning too clinical and would be disaffected with colonialism and indigenous peoples, but even that oversight is corrected for as the text goes on. It’s not going to be for everybody because it really is just the world’s longest encyclopedia entry on, well, salt, but it’s written with such excitement for the topic and is so well-researched and styled for commercial nonfiction that I think it deserves any and all praise it’s gotten. We have to talk about that time Cheshire was literally sinking into the ground, and companies who were over-pumping brine water to steal each other’s brine water said ‘no it’s okay it’s supposed to that’ so were legally dismissed as suspects.

Midnight Cowboy by James Leo Herlihy Cried. 10/10. The plot of Midnight Cowboy is very classic and actually has a lot in common with The Idiot, as 20-something Joe Buck moves from the American Southwest to NYC and meets myriad challenges as a sex worker. I’ve been obsessed with the movie for a few years now and the book made me appreciate it anew; I think it’s rare for an adaptation to take the risk of being so different from its source material while still capturing its spirit. The movie doesn’t include quieter moments like the full conversation with Towny or time spent in the X-flat, nor does it attempt to touch Joe’s internal monologue or his and Rico’s extensive backstories, but these things are essential to the book and are some of the best and most affecting writing I’ve ever read. Finally! The Great American Novel!

The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones I would firmly like to say that this is probably the best horror novel ever written. The setup is very traditional in that it’s about a group of friends facing supernatural comeuppance for a past mistake, but delivery on that premise is anything but familiar. A story about personal and cultural trauma that raises questions about what we owe to each other and what it means to be Blackfeet, with a cast that’s unbelievably real and sympathetic even at their absolute worst. Creepypasta writers trying to cash in on the cultural mythos of lumped-together tribes wish they were capable of writing something a tenth as gruesome and good as this. It could very well be a movie the visuals and writing style were so arresting, and I can’t wait to read whatever Jones writes next.

Found Footage Horror Films: Fear and the Appearance of Reality by Alexandra Heller-Nicholas This is the least accessible title on the list since it’s a college textbook for people with background in film, but it was so nice to read a woman unpacking film theory with the expertise and confidence it deserves that I have to rank it among the best. I had an absolute blast reading it and am going to have to stop myself from bringing up the horror of 1960s safety films as a cocktail icebreaker.

Blood in the Water: The Attica Prison Uprising of 1971 and Its Legacy by Heather Ann Thompson

The year’s toughest read by far, but also its most rewarding. Thompson uses mountains of documents, government-buried intel, and personal interviews to explain what happened at Attica from beginning to end, and does a fantastic job of balancing hard facts and ‘unbiased journalism’ with much-needed emotion and critical analysis. It’s more important reading in the 2020s than any kind of ‘why/how to not be racist’ book club book is going to be, and the historical context it provides is as interesting as it is invaluable. The second half drags a bit in going through lengthy trial processes with some assumed baseline knowledge of legalese (which I did not have. All that criminal minds in 2015… meaningless), but aside from that editing and prose are some of the best I’ve seen in nonfiction. 

The Bad

The Woman in the Window by A.J. Finn A friend and I decided to read this together because I’m obsessed with how insane the author is and wanted to know if he can actually write.

He cannot.

The Beautiful Thing That Awaits Us All by Laird Barron Barron is an indie darling of the horror fiction scene, so I was excited to finally read one of his collections but can now attest that I hate him. If you’re going to do Lovecraft please deconstruct Lovecraft in an interesting way. I had actually written a lot about the issues I have with how he develops characters and plots, but one of the only shorthand notes I took was “he won’t stop saying ‘bole’ instead of tree trunk” and I feel like that’s the only review we need.

Bats of the Republic by Zach Dodson Look up a photo of this author because if I had bothered to glance at the jacket bio I honest-to-god wouldn’t have even tried reading this.

This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone I went in with high expectations since this is an epistolary novella I’d seen praised on tumblr and youtube but oh my god was there a reason I was seeing it praised on tumblr and youtube. This is bad Steven Universe fanfiction. Both authors included ‘listening to the Steven Universe soundtrack throughout’ in the acknowledgements, and to add insult to injury there’s a plug from my nemesis Madeline Miller.

The 7½ Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle by Stuart Turton The premise of this one plays with so many tropes I like that I should have been more suspicious. It’s a dinner party with stock characters one would expect of Clue, and rather than our protagonist being the detective he’s a man with amnesia stuck in a 24-hour time loop. Body-hopping between guests, he must gather evidence using the skillsets of each ‘host’ until he either solves Evelyn Hardcastle’s murder or the limit of eight hosts runs out. I read a lot of not-very-good books, and it’s so, so much worse when they have potential to be fun. This is how you lose the most points, and how I abandon decorum and end up writing a list of grievances: • Our protagonist can only inhabit male hosts, which I think is a stupid writing decision not because I’m ‘woke’ but because wouldn’t it make sense for him to also be working with the maids, cooks, and women close to the murder victim? • Complaining about the limitations of hosts makes some sense (e.g- there’s a section where he thinks that it’s hard to be an old man because it’s difficult to get to the places he needs to be quickly), but one of his hosts is a rapist and one of his hosts is fat. Guess which one gets complained about more. • One of the later hosts is just straight-up a cop with cop knowledge that singlehandedly solves the case. We spend some time being like ‘wow I couldn’t have done it without the info all eight hosts helped gather’ but it was 100% the detective and he solves the murder using information he got off-screen. • The mystery itself is actually well-paced and I didn’t have a lot of issues with it (e.g, there’s a twist that I guessed only shortly before the end), which makes it all the worse that the metanarrative of this book is INSANE. No spoilers but the reveal as to why our unnamed protagonist is even in this situation is stupid. I just know they’re going to make it into a movie and I’m preemptively going to aaaaaaaaa!!!

Trust Exercise by Susan Choi The fact that this was the worst book I read all year, worse even than the bad Steven Universe fanfiction, and it won multiple awards makes my blood boil. I could rant about it for hours but just know that it’s a former theater kid’s take on perception and memory, and deals with sexual abuse in a way that’s handled both very badly and with a level of fake deepness that’s laughable. Select fake-deep quotes I copied down because at one point I said ‘oh barf’ aloud: -I’m filled with melancholy that’s almost compassion. It’s sad the same way. -[On a friendship ending] We almost never know what we know until after we know it. -Because we’re none of us alone in this world. We injure each other.

There are also bad sex scenes that I can’t quite make fun of because I think (HOPE?) they’re supposed to be a melodramatic take on how teenagers view sex, but I very much wanted to die. Flowers were alluded to. Nipples were compared to diamonds.

Honorable/Dishonorable Mentions (categorized as the same thing because, well,)

The Life and Death of Sophie Stark by Anna North This book was frustrating because the first third of it is fantastic. It’s set up to be a takedown of the manic pixie dream girl trope, jumping from person to person discussing their relationship with the titular Sophie, and indirectly revealing that she was just some girl and not the difficult and mysterious genius they all believed her to be. Then in the third act, BAM! She was that difficult and mysterious genius and she’s now indirectly brought all the people from her past together. I wanted to scream the plot beefed it so bad, but the good news is I really liked this octopus description.

It was the size of a three-year-old child, and it seemed awful to me that something could be so far from human and obviously want something as badly as it wanted to get out of the tank.

Radium Girls: The Dark Story of America’s Shining Women by Kate Moore Cool new nightmare speedrun strat is to hear a 2-second anecdote from a documentary that people used to get radium poisoning from painting watch faces, be curious enough that you buy a book to learn more, and be met with medical and legal horror beyond anything you could have imagined. This was almost one of my favorite books of the year! Almost.

Radium Girls is very lovingly crafted and incredibly well-researched; one of those things that’s hard to get through but that you want to read sections of again as soon as you’ve finished. The umbrage I take with it is that it’s very Catholic. The author and many of her subjects are Irish and their religion is important to them, but it casts a martyr-y narrative over the whole thing that I found uncomfortable. Seventeen-year-old girls taking a factory job they didn’t know was dangerous are framed as brave, working-class heroes, but there’s not a set moral lesson to be gained from this story. Sarah Maillefer didn’t make “a sacrifice” when she agreed to the first radium tests, she agreed because she was terrified. She didn’t think she was helping she was begging for help.

The Mushroom at the End of the World: On the Possibility of Life in Capitalist Ruins by Anna Tsing Tsing is an incredibly skilled researcher and ethnographer; there are so many good ideas in this book that I’d almost consider it essential leftist text… if I could stand the way it was structured. Tsing posits that because nature is built on precariousness she will build her book the same way, allowing it to grow like a mushroom, and thus chapters don’t progress linearly and are written more like freeform poetry than a series of academic arguments. Some people are really going to love that, but I’m me and a mushroom is a mushroom and a book is a book. I don’t think in the way Tsing does, and while I tried to keep an open mind it’s hard to play along when something is this academically dense and makes so many ambitious claims. As if to prove how different our structuring methods are, I’ve made my own thoughts into a pros and cons list

Things I liked: • ‘Contamination’ as something inherent to diversity • ‘Scalability’ as a flawed way of thinking (Tsing has written whole essays about this that I find very compelling, but a main example here is that China and the US have come down on Japanese matsutake research for being too ‘site specific’ and not yielding enough empirical data) • Discussing how Americans were so invested in self-regulating systems in the 1950s we thought they could be applied to literally everything, including ecosystems • “The survivors of war remind us of the bodies they climbed over- or shot- to get to us. We don’t know whether to love or hate the survivors. Simple moral judgements don’t come to hand.” • Any and all fieldwork Tsing shares is amazing; I especially liked reading about the culture of mushroom pickers living in the Cascades and their contained market system

Things I didn’t like: • Statements that sound deep but aren’t, e.g- “help is always in the service of another.” (Yep. That’s what that means. Unless an organism is doing something to help itself which then nullifies your whole opening argument.) • A very debatable definition of utilitarianism • “Capitalism vs pre-capitalism,” which seems like an insanely black-and-white stance for a book all about finding hidden middle ground • A chapter I found really interesting about how intertwined Japanese and American economies are, but it tries to cover the entire history of US-Japan relations. Seriously, starting with Governor Perry and continuing through present day, this could have been a whole different book and it’s a good example of what I mean when I say arguments feel too scattered (the conclusion it reaches is that in the 80s the yen was finally able to hold its own against the dollar. Just explain that part.) • A chapter arguing that ‘true biological mutualism’ is rarely a focus of STEM and is a new sociological development/way of thinking which is just… flat-out not true

For all the comparisons art gets to ‘being on a drug trip’ this anthropology textbook has come the closest for me. Moments of profound human wisdom, intercut with things I had trouble understanding because I wasn’t on the same wavelength, intercut with even more things that felt false or irrelevant. I can’t put it on the nice list but I am glad I read it.

[therealcalicali]

Syndrome

Pairing: Dark Ivar x Reader (Modern)

Warning: Smut, DubCon and Strong Language 

Rating: 18 +

Synopsis: With the pressures of a judgmental family and nosey friends, you’ve been at your breaking point. But all that, coupled with a mean boyfriend finally sends you over the edge. In an effort to find peace, you finally take your dream trip to Iceland. However, you may be going from the frying pan to the fire.

READ PART II : HERE

______________________

It was raining cat and dogs when you finally stumbled out of the small local airport. Despite arriving in your dream city of Tromso, Iceland, you were moody.

This was truly not your day. 

First of all, you had nearly missed your flight because your alarm didn’t go off. Then, your connection flight got delayed causing you to sit around bored for nearly four hours.

“I’m so sick of this shit.” You said aloud causing the man beside you to give you an odd look.

Glancing around, you tried to see if the ride service driver had arrived. However, you didn’t see anyone that  looked like they were waiting for someone. In fact, every car there was busily loading passengers or driving off.

“Great. By the time this douche gets here, I’ll be drenched.” .

You took your phone out and searched for the app you had downloaded prior to your departure.

 “Use the Stavanger app, it’s a great local company.” You said, mimicking your friend Amber’s voice. 

The arrival time stated that the vehicle was ten minutes away but stuck in traffic. Annoyed, you threw the phone back into your purse and dragged your suitcase to the vending machine.

As you eyed the items, a kindly old janitor walked by.

“Excuse, me sir? I can’t really read Icelandic.” You began. “Does this machine take American credit cards?”

“Talar þú íslensku.” (Do you speak Icelandic) The man replied with a confused expression.

Frustrated, you pulled out your phone and quickly typed into the translator. You then looked at the janitor again and butchered the words given to you.

“Ég vil kaupa mat með þessu?”You asked, knowing you sounded stupid.

He laughed, but understood you question despite the awful inflections. Taking the card, he inserted it the machine and pointed to a logo that you had missed.

“Oh, duh. The Visa sign is right there.” You said, mocking yourself. Then turning to the old man, you smiled. “Þakka þér fyrir.” (Thank you)

The janitor gave you a smile in kind before continuing his task of cleaning up. You couldn’t believe the amount of coffee cups and other items rude tourists had left behind.

______________________

After the danish fell out of the machine, you grabbed it and took a seat underneath a covered bench. Thankful to be out of the rain, you set your purse beside you and began to nibble on the pastry. 

Bored, you decided to watch some YouTube videos while you waited. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t long before a black BMW SUV pulled up. Out stepped one of the handsomest guys you had ever seen in your life. He had long, dark-brown hair and was wearing a hoodie underneath a brightly colored jacket.

He walked closer and took a cigarette from his pocket. After placing it between his lips, he eyed you.

“Hey. Are you my driver?” You asked hopefully.

You then remembered that he might not speak English. After all, you had flown into a small airport in order to stay in the countryside. He stared as you hastily got your phone out and typed away..

“Ertu ökumaðurinn minn?” (Are you my driver?) You asked. “Stavanger?”

He smiled, and your heart melted. But suddenly he began laughing.

“Firstly, I am your driver.” He said between chuckles. “Secondly, your Icelandic needs allot of work. Like a whole lot.”

“Wait, you speak English?” You asked, embarrassed at how hard he was laughing at your expense. “Then why didn’t you answer when I spoke the first time?”

“Because I like to make people sweat. You tourists are the worst when it comes to languages.”

You rolled your eyes. After the day you had, you were in no mood for jokes. Not only were you jet-lagged but your clothes were wet and you needed a bath. Getting up, you put your purse over your shoulder. 

But when you went to grab your suitcase, the young man beat you to it.

“I’m Ivar by the way. What is your name?”

“It’s Y/N.” You replied before walking towards his car. “Or ignorant tourist, if you prefer.”

He smiled, at your words. 

Thinking you were quite the interesting person. Thoughtfully, Ivar pressed the button on his key-chain to allow you to enter the BMW. It was now raining even harder so you were relieved to finally feel some heat.

After placing your suitcase in the trunk, he got into the driver’s seat.

“You know you don’t have to ride up here. You can sit in the back and stretch out if you want. I have no other riders.”

"Are you sure?”

Ivar nodded as he adjusted the temperature settings. Not wanting to get out of the car in order to get into the back seat, you asked permission to crawl over.

“Sure. Make yourself at home.”

As you made your way from the front seat to the back, he watched you from the rear view mirror. When you finally settled in and stretched out, you felt like a million bucks.

“There is a neck pillow back there.” Ivar mentioned as he started the car.

“Thank you.” 

As you grabbed it and placed it under your head, he pulled out of the Airport and began down the road.

“By the way, can I tell you something?” Ivar asked.

“Sure.”

“Don’t get offended but you have a really nice ass.”

Your ears and neck went hot with embarrassment. But though it was somewhat mortifying, you actually liked his bold flirtatiousness. 

“You know where the Vor Gestahús is located, right?” You asked, ignoring his remark.

“Y/N, I’m a local. Between that and my GPS, how can we get lost?”

You cringed, knowing it was indeed a stupid question. But it wasn’t your fault. He just made you nervous for some reason. Perhaps it was all due to his striking appearance and magnetic personality. Whatever it was, he had you acting dumb.

Thinking it was best that you shut your mouth before you said more stupid things, you closed your eyes.

________________________

“Y/N, wake up.” 

You felt someone shaking you by the foot. Eventually, your eyes fluttered open but you were quite disoriented. The doors of the car were open and Ivar was looking at you with some excitement.

As you sat up, you realized that it was still raining, but not as heavily. 

“Come, I want to show you something.” He said, the wind blowing his hair all around.

“Are we there already?” You asked, still half asleep.

As you got out of the back seat, your vision finally adjusted. It was then you noticed that you were in the middle of nowhere. It was scenic, however, you were very much in a secluded forest near a rushing river.

“Where are we?” You asked, rubbing your eyes.

Without looking in your direction, Ivar told you to grab your phone. 

He then made his way to the waters edge, staring over the distance. You were groggy but you did as he had asked. Making your way to his side, you glanced around the forest before asking why he had brought you there.

“This place is beautiful. Isn’t it?” Ivar asked. “I come here often.”

“It is very lovely but why are we here?” You asked before looking at the time.

Still looking out over the waters, Ivar instructed you to remove the battery from your phone. Naturally, you were confused.

“What?”

“Y/N, don’t make me repeat myself. Remove the battery and throw it into the water.”

Your heart began to race as he finally looked at you. His blue eyes practically boring into your soul. Just then, your phone vibrated. And there it was, a confirmation of your fears. 

A third message of cancellation from the driver service. When you pressed the screen to read the full details, it stated that you had been a no-show so the driver had left the location. 

You looked up at Ivar, your heart pounding in your ears. Despite what he had told you, he was definitely not from Stavanger.

“I’m uh...........I appreciate you bringing me here. But, I.........need to get to my----”

“Y/N, turn off your phone and take the battery out.” Ivar said calmly. Moving closer, he reached out and stroked your cheek with his thumb. “Please just do as I say, alright? I don’t want to hurt you.”

With trembling hands, you turned the phone off and removed the battery. Satisfied, Ivar then had you toss the battery into the rushing river, followed by the phone itself.

You could only stare as your only means of communication disappeared into the dark blue waters. Swept down stream to God knows where.

As you turned around to look at Ivar, a flash went off.

“Is he serious?” You thought.

Yes, Ivar was indeed taking photos of you with a very expensive digital camera. After the fifth one, he seemed satisfied. 

“Come on, it’s getting cold.” He said, opening the passenger side door for you. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

__________________________

The rest of the ride to wherever he was taking you was a tense one. Though you tried, you lost your composure. You burst into tears causing Ivar to turn on the radio to drown you out.

After many more miles, he eventually pulled off to the side of the desolate road and looked at you.

“Please don’t hurt me. I’ll stop.” You begged, thinking he had seen enough of your tears.

“Calm down, Y/N. I already told you. I won’t hurt you unless you give me a reason.” 

Reaching over, he opened the glove compartment and pulled out a black scarf. He then explained that he was going to cover your eyes. Adding that he expected you to not remove it or try anything funny.

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to wear it long. We’re almost home.” Ivar said reassuringly as he tied the blindfold over your eyes.

Satisfied with his work, he adjusted your seat so that you were reclined. You then heard him start the car again and enter the road again.

__________________________

It took another hour or so, but you finally felt the car come to a stop.

Gingerly, Ivar got out of the BMW and made his way to the passenger side, opening the door with a smile on his face.

“We’re here.” He announced before untying the blindfold.

He then took you by the hand and helped you out of the passenger seat. You just stood there, watching him remove your suitcase from the trunk. If you had to describe how you felt, you wouldn’t have been able to put them into words. 

You were simply terrified.

“Come on, let’s go into the house.”

With that, Ivar led you out of the garage into what was to be your prison for the foreseeable future.

____________________

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you eating?” 

You didn’t know what to say. 

Sure, Ivar had allowed you take a bath and change clothes. He even unpacked your things and arranged them in his closet. Going so far as to place your undies and things in a drawer he had emptied for you. 

But you were still as terrified as you had been at the river. 

This man was crazy. He had kidnapped you and God only knew how many other times he had done so. Perhaps, he was even a serial killer.

“I..........just don’t feel well.” You replied, using the fork to push the steak around.

He scooted his chair closer, bridging the distance between you. The massive dining table was a bit formal for two people, but he had insisted on eating there.

“Do you want something else?” He asked. “Pizza or something like that?”

Though you didn't want anything from him, you were really hungry. You had not eaten anything since leaving your hometown airport. You didn't even get a chance to finish the danish you bought.

“I’ll have some pizza.........if that is alright with you.”

Ivar nodded and got to his feet. He then told you to grab your plate and follow him to the kitchen.

________________________

Iva’r home was extremely nice. And that was putting it mildly.

The three-story, country cabin was far too lavish for anyone doing honest work to afford. Perhaps he had won the lottery, inherited a huge sum of money or something else along those lines. 

Whatever gave him the ability to live in such luxury, it wasn’t a basic job. That much you knew.

As you stood by the doorway, Ivar popped a frozen pizza into the chef’s oven. You may have been poor but even you knew what that was. After setting the timer, he walked over and pressed his forehead to yours.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Oh, just my.......” You began, but abruptly stopped yourself.

Ivar gave you a confused look before stating that he knew what you were going to say.

“Your family and friends. Right?”

You looked away, hoping it did not trigger some type of anger. He was your captive and you didn’t know what the boundaries were as of yet. Suddenly, you felt his arms slide about your waist and his lips press against your cheek.

“Don’t worry. Once I think I can trust you, I will let you call them”

He then kissed your cheek three times, before running the tip of his nose alongside your face.

“You smell so good. What is it?”

The answer you wanted to give was something along the lines of “fuck off”. However, you were too smart and had no death wish. So instead of tempting fate, you told him that it was just some body spray a friend had gifted you.

“Warm Vanilla Sugar, I think it’s called.”

“From where?”

“Bath and Body works. I don’t know if you have heard of it.” You said, trying your best to seem nice.

If he was really going to allow you call your family based on your behavior, you would do whatever it took to get the chance. If that meant acting your ass off and making him think you were chill, you would do just that.

That way, you could eventually be rescued.

“Come on, let’s watch something while the food is cooking.” Ivar suggested as he let go of you.

He then held out his hand. You stared at it for moment before sliding your finger between his.

“As soon as he falls asleep, I’ll knock him out with a lamp or something. Then.............I’ll steal his car and drive to the nearest town. ”

And that was the escape plan in your head. Hopefully, it would work out for you.

______________________

The two of you were nearly done with an episode of the Twilight Zone, when the timer sounded. Ivar told you to remain seated and went to the kitchen. He returned to the sitting room a short time later with a large tray.

He had brought you a platter of pizza slices and four different beverages.

“I didn’t know what else you wanted besides water. So I figured I would just give you a selection.” He said as he placed the tray on the coffee table.

After he sat down, he began choosing the next episode while you served yourself. As you placed a slice of pizza on a paper plate, you could feel Ivar watching you. 

And this wasn’t the first time.

You hadn’t realized it then, but at the airport, he had been staring at you in the same way. Too bad you were so fixated on getting to your destination, you didn’t take notice. 

When you sat back down, Ivar pulled you closer.

“I don’t bite, Y/N.” He said, putting his arm over your shoulders. 

Though your nerves were frazzled and your emotions were all over the place, you ate your food and watched the shows with him. Cool as a cucumber, you figured that bedtime would present the chance you needed. 

Your chance to make a break for it.

___________________________

After you finished eating, you took the tray to the kitchen while Ivar was on his third episode of Black Mirror. As you washed the platter ,you looked out the small kitchen window.

“This place is so beautiful but so isolated. Why would someone live here alone? Unless it’s not his house at all and the owners are buried in the backyard.”

As your thoughts ran wild with all the crimes he might have committed, you felt Ivar’s arms around your waist. You just didn’t get this creep. Was he playing house or was this some kind of elaborate game of ‘cat and mouse’?

Maybe he was the type of killer that enjoyed teasing his victims. Making you think all was fine before brutally killing you for sport.

“Do you want to watch something else or do you want to go to bed?”

Feeling extremely jet-lagged you managed to tell him that though you were enjoying his favorite episodes, you did want to get some rest. 

_______________________

Ivar led you to a bedroom on the second floor before returning downstairs to set the house alarm. While he was gone, you managed to locate your pajamas in the dresser.

“Asshole. Going through me shit like he knows me!” You fumed to yourself before throwing the items on the bed. 

You removed your shorts and t-shirt. Just when you were in the process of slipping on the pajama bottoms, Ivar entered.

“Wha............what are you doing?” You nearly screamed.

Using the pajama bottoms to hide your breasts, you backed away.

“What do you mean?” He asked before sitting on the bed. “This is my room. Where else did you think I was going to sleep?”

“But there are so many rooms in this house. Why did you bring me here if it’s your bedroom?”

Ivar chuckled. He then confessed that he had brought you there so you could share his bed. 

Boy were you pissed!

Did he really expect you to get in bed with him? A total stranger? From the look on his face, the answer was a strong ‘yes’. For whatever reason, Ivar just didn’t see a problem with anything he was doing.

“I’m going to change in the bathroom.”

“Why? There is nothing to be ashamed of. Watch, I’ll prove it.”

He promptly stood up and began removing his clothes. 

When Ivar got down to his jeans, you protested. But he just kept going. You turned your head once you realized he was going to strip down completely.

“Y/N, you can look at me.” 

“No, thank you.”

“Why not?” He asked with a very amused tone. “Fine, if you won’t  turn around, I’ll just come to you.”

And that’s exactly what he did. Ivar walked over and stood in front of you. Grabbing hold of your wrists, he forced your hands away from your eyes.

“Y/N, stop being so weird. It’s just the human body.” He said with a laugh. “Or are you some kind of prude? Religious perhaps?”

You wanted to roll your eyes but you didn’t want to mock him to his face. He may have been hot as hell but so was Ted Bundy. Instead, you slowly backed away and ducked into the master bathroom. 

“Fucking psycho.”

Ironically, you were quite correct in your assessment. 

After you had finished putting your pj's on, an idea came to mind. You opened the medicine cabinet hoping to find pills to drug Ivar with. However, you were met with the sight of a shitload of prescription meds. 

Grabbing two of them, you read the labels.

“Clozapine? And what’s this one here? Olan.......Olanzapine?” You muttered, trying your best to pronounce the words. 

You put the bottles back and looked at a few more of the prescriptions. Despite being a total novice when it came to medication, you were able to decipher one fact. All of them had been prescribed by Physiologists and Psychiatrists. 

This meant Ivar definitely had some type of serious mental disorder.

“Damn. He must be really messed up to be on so many drugs.”

Just as you were closing the medicine cabinet, he opened the door and walked in. Strange, you were sure you had locked it.

“How did you get in here?”

“With my phone.” Ivar replied smugly. “Every lock in the house is attached to a security app.”

He then looked you over and asked why you felt the need to have clothes on. You had to force yourself not to look at him. He was just standing there, butt naked talking to you.

Ivar may have been crazy but God, was he a looker. His body was more  amazing than you had even imagined. Toned, muscular and tanned, just how you liked it.

“Jesus Christ what was I doing? Don’t stare. Just walk past him and-----”

Your thoughts were cut off by his hands grabbing you by the hips. Gently, he turned you around, gazing down at you with a strange expression.

“I want you to get in bed.”

“Um, I’m not tired just yet. I want to read or watch a movie.” You protested nervously.

“Really? I thought you said you had jet-lag?”

“I......I did. It’s just that suddenly, I feel like I have more energy.”

“No problem. I can still do what I want while you do those things.”

Instantly your brow furrowed in confusion.

“What he wants?”

___________________________

You sat on the bed, nervous as shit. Thankfully as promised, Ivar handed you the remote. After looking around, you realized that you didn’t see a television anywhere. Feeling sort of stupid, you finally had to ask where it was.

“Press this.” He said, pointing to a white button.

When you did as he had instructed, the wall in front of the bed slid aside and a large flat-screen was revealed. Despite your dire situation, you were quite impressed. You had only seen such things on reality shows.

As you flipped through the channels, Ivar suddenly knelt in front of you. Doing your best to ignore him, you kept your eyes on the television. Unfortunately, he refused to be ignored.

“Y/N, I want you to lay on your back.”

You tried to pretend as you you didn’t hear him but it only made him repeat himself.

“Why?”

“Just trust me.”  

“But, you said I could watch a movie.”

“Y/N, I won’t ask again.”

Your entire body was trembling with fear as you began to recline. Eventually, you ended up on your back. Staring at the ceiling, you prayed that he wasn’t about to pull out a knife or something and start hacking away.

Without warning, you felt your pajama bottoms being pulled down. You sat up  and asked Ivar, what he was doing.

“Shhhhh.” 

He said nothing else after that. When he had finished removing the bottoms, he tossed them aside. Focusing on the ceiling again, you tried to think pleasant thoughts. 

That was when you felt his head between your legs causing you to feel quite uneasy. This was too much! You may have been his captive, but you were now prepared to fight.

“What are you doing?”

“Y/N, I told you to lay down.” 

Instinctively, you tried to close your legs, but he grasped your thighs firmly, keeping them spread apart on his shoulders. Then without a word, he pressed his face to your mound, licking the outside of your panties.

Your back arched and your entire body coursed with adrenaline. But Ivar remained calm. He smirked at the sight of your bewildered eyes gazing at him.

“If you want to watch me, that’s fine too.”

After saying that, Ivar pulled your panties to the side, exposing your pussy ever so slightly. You should have slapped his face or shoved him away. But you didn’t.

You just sat there, looking as he stuck two of his fingers in his mouth, wetting them with saliva. He then began running them against your entrance. And God, did it feel so good. 

Despite all the alarms going off in your head, your body was liking how his fingers felt. When Ivar noticed your eyes close, he pushed you down. Now on your back again, you felt the stubble of his sideburns against your inner thighs. 

Withing seconds Ivar’s warm tongue met your flesh, grazing your sensitive clit with one slow lick. Your hands instantly grasped the bed-sheets as your hips bucked upward instinctively.

“Please..........stop.”

Ignoring your halfhearted plea, Ivar again dragged his tongue down your opening. Almost like one would do with ice cream. His strokes were excruciatingly slow and methodical. 

Almost as if he didn’t want to miss a spot.

“You have to stop.” You begged between a gasp.

After licking your clit, Ivar pressed his lips to your pussy,  kissing it tenderly. 

You just couldn’t take anymore. Your legs were shaking as you sat up again.

“I...........I don’t want to do this.” 

Annoyed, Ivar glared at you before pulling your panties back in place. 

“Y/N, why are you being so difficult? I asked you to do something and I expect you to listen.” He said. “Don’t interrupt me again!”

You couldn’t say anything.

Ivar stared at you for a long while before his expression eventually softened. Pulling your panties to the side again, he pressed his mouth to your pussy. Inserting is tongue ever so slightly in your opening first. He then returned to the licking strokes he had been doing earlier.

And did it ever feel so good. So good that you couldn’t resist anymore. 

Your hips began moving in rhythm with his tongue. With the television on mute, the only sound in the bedroom were that of Ivar’s tongue lapping your wetness.

And he wasn’t in a rush either. It was almost as if he was trying to prolong the experience.  

“Fuck.” You groaned, feeling him bury his face deeper between your legs.

Ivar must have liked what he heard because he suddenly raised his head.

“Babe, get in the middle of the bed and spread your legs for me.”

When you heard the command, you hesitated. You were torn. It was insane but you wanted more. However, you knew that by obeying him, you were placing yourself in a precarious situation. 

Before you could rationalize what to do next, Ivar was beside you. In an instant, he forcefully placed you in the center of the bed. He then hovered over you and pointed a finger to your face.

“What did I say, huh? Do you want me to slap you?”

When you remained silent and shook your head, he smiled. 

Ivar was relieved that you now understood that he was serious. Leaning closer, he brushed his lips against yours before giving you a quick peck. Suddenly, he got out of bed.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

With that, he left the room and went downstairs.

___________________________

When he returned, Ivar was carrying honey and whipped cream. Your heart raced as he set them beside you and then walked to the closet. Blocking him out, you went back to staring at the ceiling. Hoping to distract yourself from your own thoughts.

“Y/N, sit up a minute.”

When you did so, you saw that he was setting up his expensive camera on a tripod. At first, you wanted to ask what it was for, but it didn’t take a genius to figure it out.

“He’s going to record me?”

Ivar kept adjusting the camera settings and checking the monitor. Eventually, he seemed happy with the results.

“Perfect. I have everything in frame. You look amazing, by the way.” 

As you laid down again, he got back in the bed. 

Without allowing you to rest, Ivar asked that you to spread your legs. You swallowed but followed his command. But despite your best efforts, you were still worried about the camera.

“Are.........are you recording me?”

“Not yet. But don’t worry, I’ll let you know when I start.” 

With that, Ivar slid your panties to the side, loving how damp the fabric had become.

“You’re getting wet.” He said with a wicked smirk. “But not wet enough.”

Running his hand over his hair to push it away from his face, he flicked the tip of his tongue against your clit. All at once, your mind went blank. 

All your fears disappeared leaving nothing but lust behind. He curled his tongue along the outside of your pussy, before nibbling at the folds..

“Y/N. I want you to do something. Sit up and hold your panties for me.”

Your heart was beating hard as you took hold of the fabric. Like a tease, Ivar licked your fingers, dragging his tongue from them to your pussy and back again.

You had never experienced anything like this before. 

Typically, you didn’t even keep the lights on when you had sex. But you didn’t feel the need to shy away. You stared, watching his tongue work it’s magic. When you accidentally let go of the panties, Ivar smirked.

Without waiting for him to tell you what to do, you slid them aside for him.

“Good girl.” He whispered.

As you watched, Ivar allowed a large amount of saliva to fall onto your pussy. Between that and your own wetness, you mound was glistening.

“You taste so fucking good.” He said as his eyes met yours briefly. 

He then placed his mouth over your opening and began whirling his tongue in circular motions.

“Oh my fucking God.” You gasped, your grasp on the panties becoming weaker. “Shit!” 

Coming to a stop, Ivar looked at your pussy again. 

He then dragged his tongue over it one last time to ensure he got every bit of wetness. 

“Babe, pick between the honey and whipped cream.“

Ignoring all the voices of reason in your head, you grabbed the squeeze bottle of honey. 

“Pour it on your pussy for me.” 

Removing the top, you watched as the golden syrup trickled down and began coating your outer lips and mound. As for Ivar, he watched with great fascination, using his thumb to spread it around. 

When you thought you had poured enough, you stopped. 

Ivar wasted no time in burying his face between your legs. Within seconds, the grazing and sweeping motions of his tongue caused you to grab his head.

“Oh my god...............yes!” You moaned. “Yes!”

You threw caution to the wind, grinding your hips in unison with his efforts. Before long, your legs began to tremble as you felt the telltale throbbing sensation.

“Oh.......fuck!”

And just like that, your orgasm hit. 

But Ivar was relentless, he kept going, licking and nibbling so eagerly, he caused a second one to follow. As your rode his tongue for several minutes, you shut your eyes, losing yourself in the moment..

___________________________

Despite what you had expected, Ivar didn’t force you to do anything else. At least for now. 

After cleaning you up with a damp washcloth, he laid beside you. You were grateful for that. Quite exhausted from the euphoria of your two orgasms, you were nearly asleep when you felt him pull you closer. 

“What the hell am I doing?” You thought. “I have to get out of here!”

You had an entire life back home. 

Family and friends who would worry once the days passed without hearing from you. Not only that, but you had a boyfriend. A very nice one who would not understand you sexing a crazed stranger.

Your mind was made up. You would wait until Ivar fell into a deep slumber before making your move. Perhaps you could even use his car to leave. After all, you had seen where he kept the keys to the BMW.

___________________________

You managed to put on your jeans and Ivar’s sweatshirt despite the dimly lit room. Not that you had wanted to steal from him. You only took his sweatshirt because you didn’t want to risk opening the closet and waking him.

Cautiously, you made your way out of the bedroom and straight downstairs. 

The house was a rather enormous so it took a while to find the sitting room. Unfortunately when you opened the wooden box that you thought the car keys were in, it was empty.

“Fuck! He must have moved them.”

There was no point in searching since they could have been anywhere and you had not time to waste. You threw your purse over you shoulder and rushed to the front door.

Holding your breath, you unlocked it, praying that there was no audible alarm. Thankfully, there wasn’t. 

Without hesitation you stepped out into the cool evening air. Despite the trail of streetlights, it was rather dark and there was nothing as far as the eye could see. 

Nothing, but meadows and trees.

“It doesn’t matter. I will run into someone sooner or later.”

____________________________

Your last thoughts were rather prophetic. 

You had been right about potentially running into someone. Too bad that someone was none other than Ivar.

After walking for roughly twenty minutes, you finally saw headlights approaching from behind. At first, you thought it was a traveler you could wave down for help. 

But then, you recognized the BMW.

You panicked, unsure of what to do next. Should you run into the woods or continue walking along the roadside where it was safest? It didn’t matter. Ivar parked the car and turned on the hazard lights. 

Despite your best effort to run, he easily caught up with you. You kicked, you screamed and even tried to bite his arm. But you were no match for Ivar.

“No!” You screamed.

With no effort, he threw you over his shoulder. You tried hard to wriggle free but it was no use. Withing seconds, he tossed you into the car and slammed the door. 

When you tried to open it, you realized that the child-lock was on.

Ivar got into the the driver’s seat and punched the steering wheel. When he glared at you through the rear view mirror, you finally decided to shut up. His gaze was chilling and you didn’t want to push him over the edge.

Needless to say, you remained quiet the entire ride back to his house.

___________________________

“Why did you do that, Y/N?” Ivar asked as he paced the bedroom floor. “I gave you free reign in my home and look how you repay me! By taking off the moment I fall asleep.”

You felt so stupid. 

During your escape you didn’t know that Ivar had been watching the entire thing on his phone. But that was your own fault. You should have known a house like his would have security cameras everywhere.

As for the house alarm, it was a silent one. 

The company even called to make sure things were fine. Ever the calm one, Ivar informed them that it had been a false trigger.

Now that you knew everything, you realized just how dumb your plan was. But you were too exhausted to mope around. Without asking, you laid on your side and curled up in the fetal position.

Ivar eventually got in bed. After hesitating a while, he scooted closer and spooned you. 

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t do that again. Okay?”

Half asleep already, you nodded. You felt his lips brushing against your cheek as you drifted off.

_________________________

The following day, you woke up feeling so much better. As you rolled over, you realized that the bed was empty. 

“He must have woke up early.”

You sat up, rubbing your eyes before stretching. 

It was late afternoon for sure because the sun was shining brightly through the large bedroom windows. Feeling well rested, you decided you best freshen up. 

You were busily taking a warm shower when you heard the door to the bathroom open. Knowing it was Ivar, you sighed.

“I know I’m taking forever but I’m almost done.”

But he didn’t say anything.

Instead, he just watched you through the glass partition for a while. Embarrassed, you held the washcloth over your breasts in a feeble attempt at modesty. This of course was stupid, considering the previous night.

"Hurry up and come to the room.”

With one last gaze at your body, Ivar left.

_____________________________

Though he allowed you to do your hair and even put on makeup, Ivar refused to let you get dressed. Insisting that you keep the towel on. So there you were, sat on the bed wondering what was about to happen.

Suddenly, he began fidgeting with the camera on the tripod.

“What are you doing?”

“Y/N, you have no right to ask me anything.” He replied bluntly. “You broke my trust. So until you earn it back, no more questions.”

You were startled but knew it was probably a good idea to keep your mouth shut. Gone was his jovial expression from before. In its place was a look of pure anger.

“Okay, it’s recording.” He announced. “First, let’s start with your full name.”

You didn’t know what Ivar was up to, but you didn’t feel like playing his game. But what choice did you have?

“My name is Y/N Y/L/N.”

He smirked as he observed you on the monitor. Continuing with the line of questioning, he covered various topics. Mostly, your preferences and childhood experiences.

All in all, the entire experience wasn’t too bad, despite him filming you by force.

“One last thing. Do you like dogs?”

You nodded, adding that you were fond of animals in general. Satisfied with how things went, Ivar made his way over and sat beside you.

“We’re done with the first part.”

“First part?” You repeated.

With a devious look in his eyes, he guided you onto his lap and pointed at the camera.

“We’re going to make our own sex tape.”

Your jaw tensed when you realized he was quite serious. 

Flabbergasted, you were about to protest when you felt his teeth on your neck. He playfully bit down before using his tongue to make you squirm. Though it felt incredible, you tried to fight the sensation.

You simply couldn’t allow a stranger to film you performing sex acts.

When you tried to push him away, Ivar grabbed you by the throat. He didn’t do it violently, but firmly enough to keep you still. After giving you a love bite, he asked you to stand up for a moment.

Doing as he had asked, you watched as he undressed himself. One thing was certain, this guy really enjoyed being naked.

“Lay on your side facing the camera.”

You hesitated but followed his instructions. The entire situation was insane. But if it was so bad, why were you not throwing a lamp at his head?

Exhaling, you cleared your thoughts - tired of the opposing inner dialogue.

That was when Ivar slid behind you and unraveled the towel. Right away, you cupped your breasts causing him to chuckle.

“Babe, relax.” He said, tossing it to the ground. “There’s no need to be so shy. You have amazing tits.”

Your cheeks were burning from embarrassment. Ivar was quite the enigma. Never in your life had you ever met someone so uninhibited and blunt. As you were busily wondering how he got that way, you felt him guide your hand to his shaft.

Ivar was fully erect but he stated that he wanted you to use his member to get yourself wet. 

“I..........I don’t understand.”

Despite giving you a weird look, he didn’t get mad. 

Instead, Ivar slid his cock between your legs, tapping it against your pussy a few times. You bit your lip as you stared at him. He was so focused as he began rubbing his erection against your folds.

“That’s it, Y/N” He hissed before looking at you. “You’re getting so wet for me.”

Pressing his nose to your cheek, he bit it playfully. 

“Alright, I think you know what to do now.” Ivar added.

After placing your hand on his shaft again, he continued nibbling on the length of your neck. 

Like an uncoordinated novice, you dragged his curved erection against your pussy. The sensation of his warm flesh against yours felt so good, you moaned.

“Don’t hold back. I fucking love the sounds you make.” He whispered.

You kept going. 

Gently rubbing his member against your entrance until eventually, you could feel your wetness. You were so turned on that your fingers and his erection were slick from it.

“Okay babe, that’s enough.” .

Though Ivar loved how your hand was feeling, it wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to have sex with you. With his lips pressed to your cheek, he asked you to guide him in.

“But........you aren’t wearing a condom.”

Angered by your statement, he pushed your hand off. He then took hold of his erection himself and prodded against your entrance.

“Wait! We nee to-----” 

Your words caught in your throat. Without warning, Ivar slid the length of his cock into you with one thrust. He grunted, grabbing you by the throat. As he pushed his lips against your ear, your eyes shut tightly. 

“Fuck!” He groaned. “Its so hot.”

You were trembling from the sensation of him being inside you. It was unlike anything you had ever felt before. Not even with your boyfriend back home made you feel so.....turned on.

“I....Ivar?” 

“Shhhhh. It’s okay, Y/N.”

With his lips still pressed to your ear, he pushed his cock in as deeply as it could go. Your breathing hitched and you let out a whimper. Excited by the sound, Ivar moved his hand from your throat. After caressing your face, he kissed the corner of your mouth softly.

“Did I hurt you?”

You should have said ‘yes’ and asked him to stop. But instead of doing the smart thing, you shook your head. Taking it as a good sign, Ivar held you closer, your ass now pushed firmly against his pelvis.

“Move for me.” He whispered. “I want to watch.”

With your eyes still shut, you apprehensively began rotating your hips, riding the length of his cock. As you were doing so, he watched the motion of your body, his blue eyes hooded with lust.

“Keep going, babe.” He whispered, enjoying how unsure of your own movements you were.

After a minute or so, Ivar tapped your hip and asked you to stop. 

To your surprise, he pulled his erection out. At first, you thought you had turned him off, but that was the furthest thing from the truth. Without a word, he sat up and rolled you onto your back. 

He then reached into one of the night stands and produced a large knife. Your heart dropped. Why would he feel the need to bring out a weapon? You watched in fear as he hovered over you, dragging the the blade lightly across your breasts.

“Last night, you let me down.” Ivar said as he pressed tip of the blade to one of your nipples. “But I’m going to give you a chance to redeem yourself. A second test. Hopefully, you won’t disappoint me.”

His words terrified you. 

From what you had seen in his medicine cabinet, he was mentally unstable. If he wanted, he could kill you and get away with it. But as you were practically having a nervous breakdown, Ivar did something strange. 

He placed the knife in your hand. 

Sliding between your legs, he hovered over you, propping himself up on his forearms. His long hair grazed your shoulders as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“No matter what  you decide, I won’t stop you.”

After saying this, Ivar reached between you and probed your entrance. Slowly, he pushed the length of his cock in, his forehead still rested on your own. You gasped at the feeling of him sliding inside you again.

But here it was! Your chance at freedom. 

Even if you didn’t want to kill him, you had many options. You could use the knife to back him away or stab him to give yourself time to escape. But you simply froze.

Without anymore hesitation, Ivar began thrusting. He was pounding away so hard, your hold of the knife weakened. As he increased the pace even more, he raised his head and looked down at you affectionately.

“What are you waiting for?” He grunted.

Taking hold of your wrist, he brought the knife to his neck. You didn’t know what to do. Did he want you to kill him? 

Keeping his eyes on yours, Ivar continued thrusting. You stared at him, keeping the blade against his flesh. Eventually, a trickle of blood appeared from the pressure.

Without breaking his gaze, he took you by the hips, using them to shove his cock in deeper. Before long, the knife fell from your grasp, landing beside you. 

Taking notice of this, Ivar tossed it to the floor before blanketing you with his body. After sliding his hands under your ass, he buried his face in the crook of your neck. 

You hated yourself but all your resistance was gone. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you met each of his thrusts - the sound of his cock pounding your pussy filling the room.

“Oh,..................my God!” You squealed.

“Fuck.” He grunted. “Is it my pussy, babe?”

He asked you two more times before you managed to mutter a ‘yes’ in response.  

What a lover! 

Ivar plunged his cock into you like a man possessed making you to writhe underneath him. Within minutes, he was sweating so much, his hair became damp. Beads of perspiration trickled onto you causing your breasts and stomach to glisten.

“Cum for me, Y/N.”

“Wait.”

Ivar knew you were close. He could tell by the way your hips had slowed down. Relentlessly, he thrusted slow and deep. All the while whispering about how badly he wanted you to cum on his cock.

Suddenly, your pelvic area began pulsating and contracting with the longest orgasm of your life.

“Yes, Ivar! Yes!”

His lips crashed to yours, kissing you like a long lost lover. 

When he finally pulled away, he dragged his tongue against yours before biting your bottom lip. As you continued moaning, he pressed his lips to your neck.

“Fuck!” Ivar grunted as if gasping for air.

You felt him cumming inside you. The heat spreading as he muttered something in his native tongue. Ivar continued pounding into you with so much force, it caused you to scream out, your voice practically echoing in the bedroom. 

His had triggered an orgasm so intense, your legs began to shake like crazy and your eyes welled with tears.

“It’s okay, Y/N.  

Slowing his movements, Ivar allowed you to ride out the orgasm at your own pace, all the while biting on your neck. 

_____________________________

The following afternoon, Ivar was in a great mood. 

He spent a few hours in his home office before asking you to accompany him on a nature hike. After packing some lunch, the two of you drove out to a beautiful field that was only a few miles from the house. 

There, Ivar spent time taking photos of the scenic surroundings. 

While he was busy with his photography, you picked some flowers, hoping to fashion them into a crown. Sadly, you were quite terrible at it. As you sat on the blanket, frustrated at your progress, Ivar took a seat across from you.

“What are you doing?” Ivar asked, looking at the jumbled mess.

“Um.....I don’t really want to say.”

“Why?”

When you stated that you didn’t want him to laugh at you, he promised that he wouldn’t. 

With a sigh, you told Ivar you were trying to make a flower crown like the ones you had seen in Scandinavian films.

Though he was trying his best, you could tell he wanted to laugh. Rolling your eyes, you decided to give up. Why bother? You were never the best at arts and crafts anyway.

Putting his camera down, Ivar beckoned you to sit between his legs. 

After you had done so, he began teaching you the proper way to make a crown. Taking his time to show you the technique.

“My mother made these all the time.” He said with his lips close to your earlobe. “She really had a thing for flowers and nature in general.” 

You were surprised that he had finally made mention of something personal. After all the questions he had asked of you, you had some for him as well.

“Your mother, does she live in Iceland?”

Ivar fell silent for a while before telling you that both his parents were dead. You felt so bad for bringing up the subject that you tried to apologize. However, he told you it wasn’t necessary.

“It’s not as if you would have known.” Ivar said. “Anyway, they died when I was like five years old. So you don’t worry about depressing me.”

He went on to mention that they had died when their private plane crashed. Afterward, he spent time living with relatives. All of them unwilling to care for him long enough for him to get adjusted.

“I guess I can’t really blame any of them. I was probably too much to handle. My problems and all.”

“What problems?” You cautiously asked.

You had seen the medications. However, you wanted to hear about his condition from his own lips.

“I’m Schizophrenic. But I was recently diagnosed with Obsessive-compulsive disorder as well.” Ivar said as he continued weaving the flowers. “I guess you’re definitely going to run away now.”

You didn’t know what to think.

On one hand, he was keeping you against your will. But on other hand, you kinda felt sorry for him. He was probably just lonely or going through an episode.

“Have you done this.....I mean.....”

“I have never kidnapped anyone in my life.” He interrupted. “To be quite honest with you, I was there to shoot up the airport. You know, go out in a hail of bullets. I had rifles in the trunk and everything. But just when I was about to smoke in order to ease my nerves, I saw you.”

You were utterly dumbfounded. So he had intended to do a ‘suicide by cop’? 

Before you could think of another question, Ivar added that when you spoke to him, it caused him to waver.

“I don’t know why but you made me rethink things. You looked so innocent and lost. Plus, your Icelandic was so bad, it actually brought a smile to my face.”

For some reason, the comment made you laugh. 

Still, it was strange to think that you mistaking him for your ride probably prevented a tragedy. With the flower crown now finished, Ivar placed it on your head. He then grabbed his camera and got to his feet.

“I’m not an evil person, Y/N. Despite how I feel, I know you have a life of your own.” He confessed. “But can you please do one thing for me?”

“What’s that?”

“There’s a family event in three weeks. If you accompany me and treat me nicely in front of everyone, I......................I won’t stop you from leaving afterward.”

His eyes were wet with tears, but you didn’t make mention of it. 

Instead, you nodded, promising to be his ‘date’ at the event. Pleased in a bittersweet way, Ivar took photos of you wearing his flower crown.

______________________________

The next few days were actually quite nice. 

Not only did Ivar take you to the nearby township to show you around, he bought you a prepaid phone. After making you promise not to say anything about your whereabouts, he allowed you to call home.

Though he did sit beside you whenever you chatted with anyone, it didn’t feel like he was being imposing.

As expected, your family members were relieved to finally hear from you. 

After being unable to reach you and getting no calls to confirm your arrival, they had been in a panic. But you eased their minds, stating that you had lost your phone at the airport. And since you had no money to buy a new one, you told them to reach you on the prepaid until you returned.

You could have told them that you were being held against your will, but you chose not to. Despite what Ivar had done, you didn’t want the police to get involved. 

Yes, it sounded stupid, but you just didn’t want him to get in trouble. 

Regardless of how things started, you felt a connection with Ivar. In fact, the two of you spent the time leading up to the event behaving like a real couple. And it wasn’t just allot of hot sex either. 

He told you all about his life and even confessed that he was basically a trust-fund kid. That explained the lavish house and his lack of a schedule. 

So with everything seemingly going well, you focused on enjoying the last bit of time the two of you had left.

_____________________________

The big day had finally arrived!

Wracked with nerves, you spent the whole day wondering how his family members were going to treat you. Taking notice of your odd behavior, Ivar kept telling you to relax, but you couldn’t help feeling tense. 

You didn’t know why you felt anxious anyway. He had taken care of everything. In fact, Ivar spared no expense in helping you prepare for the party. He ordered six designer outfits for you with the help of an online shopper. And that wasn’t all. Knowing how particular women were, he had a stylist come to the house to do your hair and makeup. 

All-in-all, you felt like a Princess. 

Yes, you knew that you were living a lie but so what? Ivar treated way better than your boyfriend back home. 

And it wasn’t about the money. Jamie was just a mean-spirited guy at times. Not only did he mock your career goals, but he expected you to drop everything whenever he wanted to hang out. Those things wouldn’t have been so bad if he didn’t feel the need to tell you how to dress as well. 

If you had any guts at all, he would have been an Ex a long time ago. 

But what could you do? You just needed to get the night over with so you could return to your normal life. 

_________________________

As you stood beside Ivar in your strapless black Balmain gown, you shifted nervously. For whatever reason, you suddenly felt like throwing up. You hated large events in general but you hated family events even more. 

Everyone was always so judgmental at those things. And with how wealthy Ivar was, you assumed his relatives were probably going to be total dicks.

“Babe, why are you fidgeting so much?” He asked. “You look amazing.”

Ivar’s smile was so genuine, you almost regretted that it was your last night together. But what choice did you have?

“I’m not good at these types of gatherings.” You confessed.

“Stop worrying so much. They’re going to adore you as much as I do.”

Right on cue, the massive door swung open. 

There, wearing more makeup than should be on one person’s face, was a woman in her sixties. She looked good. But good in the “my plastic surgeon knows me well” kind of way.

“Ivar.” She exclaimed as if expecting someone else. “We didn’t think you would show.”

“Well, here I am.” 

She gave him a smile but you thought it looked very fake. Suddenly, she took notice of you and her face lit up.

“And who is this lovely woman? A friend of Christoff?”

Ivar’s smile faltered a second before he placed an arm around your waist.

“No Aunt Rose, this is my girlfriend. Y/N.”

The woman gave you a big smile and complemented your appearance. As she led you into the house, she added that she loved your purse.

“Chanel is my favorite at the moment too.” Aunt Rose said. “I had a thing for Vuitton but I had to drop it like a bad habit. It seems like every poverty-stricken nobody wears a knockoff these days. It cheapens the brand.”

You were slightly offended but Ivar did warn you about his family members during the car ride.

“Well, thank you for the compliment but I didn’t buy it. Ivar gifted it to me. I can’t afford such things.” 

Aunt Rose blew off your remark, stating that you looked good enough to be a trophy wife. She then added that beauty was far more valuable than money.

“I can’t wait for you to meet my sons. Especially Christoff.” She said as you all arrived in the backyard. She then looked at Ivar. “Don’t forget to introduce the two of them.”

“I won’t”

“Well, I need to mingle with the other guests...” She said looking straight at you. “but we will definitely chat again, my dear.”

With that, she walked into the crowd of attendees. You looked up at Ivar but before you could even say anything, he leaned over and kissed you.

“What was that for?”

“Do I need a reason?” He asked before embracing you.

As he was busily whispering dirty things in your ear, three women approached. They had champagne flutes in hand but looked like they had been pounding shots before the party started.

“Ivar! What a pleasant surprise!” The woman in blue exclaimed. “We did not think you would come after what happened last time.”

By the way his body tensed, you could tell that he didn’t like these people.

“Well, regardless, it’s good to see you.” The redhead said with a giggle. “So whose date are you molesting?”

Ivar’s jaw tensed, but thankfully, you were good at defusing awkward situations. 

Extending your hand, you introduced yourself as his girlfriend. They probably weren’t accustomed to him bringing anyone around because their jaws dropped.

All three women looked stunned as they shook your hand.

“Well it’s very nice to meet you Y/N. I’m Katrina, this is my sister Evelyn and that drunk bitch Sonya. We’re cousins but he hardly comes around us anymore.”

“Maybe you can help change that.” Sonya said thoughtfully. “Besides, you seem like someone we could have fun hanging out with.”

The three of them chatted with you for nearly fifteen minutes. Despite your initial perceptions, they were actually quite nice. They told you lots of things about their homeland and suggested places you should visit. 

The main one being the Blue Lagoon.

“Has Ivar taken you there yet?” Sonya asked.

“Uh, not yet.”

“I’m going to take her.” He said, following up your remark.

“Oh yeah? And when will that be?” Katrina asked with a scoff. “Everyone knows you hardly like leaving the countryside.”

“Whenever Y/N is ready for me to take her. I’ll make the time.”

“You can’t take her.” Evelyn protested. “She would have much more fun with us. Ivar, I know you don’t understand these things but she’s a girl. And everyone knows spas are more fun as a Girl’s Trip.”

Rolling his eyes, he whispered that he was going to go and speak to someone. However, he promised that it wouldn’t take long. After giving you kiss on the lips, Ivar walked off.

“Wow. I have never seen him like this before.” Katrina confessed as she watched him leave. “Do you know you’re the first  girl he’s ever brought to anything? Like ever?”

“She’s probably the first girl to be with him at all.” Sonya added with a giggle. She then grabbed a cocktail off a passing waiters tray.

You couldn’t believe your ears. They may have been treating you nicer than you had expected, but they were being very vicious behind Ivar’s back. 

“What kind of crap family is this?” You wondered.

“Excuse me, but do any of you know where the nearest restroom is?” You suddenly asked.

You didn’t really have to pee but you wanted to get away from them. 

Without being asked, Evelyn happily volunteered to show you the way. Taking you by the arm, she led you into the house. As the two of you walked the massive corridor, she introduced you to several people, leaving out the fact that you were Ivar’s girlfriend. 

Instead, she kept telling people that you were a good friend of hers. When you finally reached the restrooms, Evelyn asked if you wanted her to wait. 

“Oh, no. You can return to the festivities. I’ll find you.”

“Okay. We’ll save you some champagne.”

When she left, you exhaled out loud. Boy were these people strange. They may have had all the money in the world but they sure didn’t know how to be a family.

__________________________

After freshening your makeup, you chose to look at the various pieces of Art that lined the walls of the hallway. It wasn’t exciting, but it was much better than talking to any of the people you had met so far. 

As you were examining a still life painting, you heard a voice from behind you.

“That’s one of my favorites too.” 

When you turned to see who it was, there stood a gorgeous man in a tailored black suit. He had long dirty-blonde hair but it had been pulled into a man-bun for the occasion. 

With a twinkle in his blue eyes, he introduced himself as Christoff.

“Um...nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.”

“Oh.” He said. “My mother just told me all about you. You’re the one that arrived with my cousin, Ivar.”

That’s when his name clicked. 

Ivar’s Aunt Rose had mentioned that he was her son. She even made him promise to introduce the two of you. Well, there he was and boy, was he hot. Probably just as hot as Ivar. 

But something was off about him. However, you just couldn’t put your finger on it.

“So, I see you have an appreciation for the Arts. That’s not something I see these days. It’s quite refreshing.”

“Yeah. I like Art allot. I guess it’s because I’m not very good at it.” You said with a laugh. 

“You should take classes. We have amazing Art Schools for adults in Iceland. Most of them are free.”

As the two of you became engrossed in conversation, Ivar approached. Seeing you with Christoff soured his mood instantly. Not that he was upset with you. It all had to do with his cousin.

You see, Christoff was a bit of a bully. 

And whenever he was around, he had a way of making Ivar feel worthless. Not that he was the only one. Most of Ivar’s family members were very hard on him due to his “issues”.

“Y/N. I was looking for you. I thought you would like to try some of this French wine.”

After handing you the glass, Ivar looked at his cousin. If you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn they were having stare-down.

"So, where have you been hiding this amazing woman?” Christoff asked. “She’s a breath of fresh air.”

“We’re both busy.”

“Come off it, Ivar. Look, just because you’re antisocial, it doesn’t mean you have to keep the poor girl hidden away.”

“Agreed.” Sonya said, cosigning his remark.

You don’t know how the hell they found you, but all three of the girls approached with two men trialing them.

“Y/N, this is Marc and Dimitiri, our cousin’s from Sweden.”

As the two men shook your hand, you could see Ivar from the corner of your eye. He was not happy at all. In fact, you could tell that he was getting very stressed.

“Babe, this is really good.” You commented after taking a sip of the wine.

Ivar smiled at you, liking the way you had slid your hand into his. He intertwined your fingers before giving it a gentle squeeze.

"If you like this wine Y/N.....” Dimitiri began. “You have to visit our Great Uncle’s estate. His collection makes Aunt Rose’s selection look like cheap boxed punch.”

“Who gives a shit? Cheap or expensive, it doesn’t matter. As long as I can get shit-faced, I’m good.” Katrina announced before raising her glass of rum and coke.

Everyone laughed with the exception of Ivar. 

He just hated being around his family. They never acted like they wanted him around and now, they were trying to take you over. As the conversation went on, you eventually realized what they were doing.

They were totally ignoring Ivar. But they did keep making rude hints about his Psychiatric issues. 

Having enough of their shit, you put the wine glass down.

“Babe, I don’t feel too well. Can we go home?”

Ivar looked at you, almost unable to hide his relief. 

Despite everyone telling you that you could rest in any of the bedrooms, you insisted on leaving. As you led Ivar away, he turned around and waved goodbye to his cousins.

Except for Christoff of course. He knew for sure he had been hitting on you. So  Ivar gave him the middle finger.

________________________

During the long drive back to the countryside, the two of you listened to old rock songs, singing and laughing the entire time. It just felt so good to get away from the oppressive atmosphere of his family.

When you arrived home, you kicked off your heels and made a beeline for the kitchen. Both of you were famished and had not eating anything since Brunch.

“What do you want to eat?” You asked as you opened the fridge.

“You.”

“Ivar, I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

When you glared at him, he laughed and shrugged his shoulders. After telling you to decide, Ivar went upstairs to change his clothes. Settling on the leftover lasagna, you began reheating things.

As you were plating the food, he returned, shirtless and wearing grey sweatpants. He had also taken his hair out of the man-bun and put on a pair of glasses.

“You know, you look really handsome. I should take a picture of you.”

“Yeah?”

He winked at you before thrusting his hips. With a raise of your brow you asked what he thought he was doing.

“I’m trying to tempt you.”

“By humping the air?” You asked with a smirk. “You look like a stripper.”

“I’ll be your stripper if you pay me in sex.”

Getting behind you, he began grinding his pelvis against your ass. You tried your best to ignore him but he kept going. Even when you started cutting the garlic bread.

“Ivar! I have a knife in my hand.”

“So? I’m trying to get you out of this dress.”

He then spun you around and asked how you could say ‘no’ to a man in glasses. 

After staring at him for a second, you burst into laughter. Ivar was just too cute for words. No one had ever made you laugh like he did. But then you remembered, tonight was your last night.

You were leaving for the airport first thing in the morning. Despite missing your return flight home because of your promise, the airline allowed you to re-book for a small fee. 

In less than twenty four hours, you would be back where you belonged.

As you were lost in thought, Ivar lifted you up, his hands underneath your ass. You wrapped your legs around him before pressing your forehead to his. Running your fingers through his hair, you wondered why you felt so torn about leaving.

You kept your end of the bargain and he was keeping his about letting you go. That meant you should have been happy. Right?

___________________________

Ivar carried you to the living room, and sat on the couch.

Now straddling him, you gazed into his eyes, wishing that you had a few more days. Without waiting for him to make a move, you pressed your lips to his. You wanted to savor all of him - his taste, his scent even the texture of his tongue.

Deepening the kiss, Ivar grabbed you by the back of the neck and pulled you in. His kiss was so hungry and needy, you moaned into his mouth. As you pulled away, he unzipped the back of your gown.

“Take this thing off.”

No longer as shy as you had been before meeting him, you stood up. Slowly, you allowed the gown to shimmy down your body. When it dropped to the floor, Ivar stared at you.

“Don’t take your bra and panties off, yet.” He said with a gleam in his eyes. “I just want you to lay across my lap. Ass up.”

Doing just as he had asked, you crawled on top of him. Once he positioned you the way he wanted, Ivar squeezed each cheek.

“Babe, I’m going to spank you. If it gets uncomfortable, tell me and I’ll stop.”

You nodded, trusting that he wasn’t going to do it hard enough to hurt you.

When the first smack landed, it really stung. Thankfully, Ivar caressed the spot, making it feel better right away. The second and third smacks were much harder though. 

Still, despite never thinking it was a kink you would try, you liked it. 

After spanking you a few more times, Ivar rolled you onto your back. As he gazed into your eyes, he slid his hand into the front of your panties. 

Your legs closed by instinct but you quickly relaxed them.

“Y/N, I want you to look at me.”

He then began moving his fingers against your pussy in circular motions, his blue eyes never leaving your face. Ivar watched you with fascination, loving all your little expressions and winces. 

With your wetness glistening on his fingers, he brought them to his lips. You watched as he licked each one clean before sliding them back into your panties again.

“That’s so good.” You mumbled.

Ivar gave you a little smirk as he continued rubbed your folds in small circles. Feeling aroused, your hips stuttered and you grabbed hold of his wrist with both hands. 

“Is it good, babe?” He asked as he watched your body writhe against his hand.

Your voice caught in your throat as Ivar grazed your clit with two fingers. As he applied pressure to it, he leaned forward and bit the length of your neck.

“Oh my God.” You hissed, holding his wrist tighter.

When he was satisfied with your wetness, Ivar made you straddle him. Pulling down the elastic of his sweatpants, he asked you to take his cock out. As he watched, you reached down into his boxer briefs. Grabbing hold of his erection, you gently freed it from the fabric. 

As you stroked his reddened cock, you felt Ivar’s hips buck upward.

“Y/N, I want you to ride me. Can you do that?”

Though your cheeks and neck burned from his blunt request, you nodded. 

“Should I remove my bra and panties first?”

“No.”

Ivar then added that he liked how pretty you looked in your jewelry and lingerie. Letting go of your ass, he pulled down the cups of your bra, exposing your breasts. 

The manner in which he did it caused the underwire to cup your tits, making them sit very high. Leaning forward, Ivar ran his tongue flatly over the right one first and then, the left.

As he pulled your nipple into his mouth, you caressed the side of his face. When Ivar began suckling, the pressure of his warm mouth caused a gasp to escape your lips.

Realizing that you were very sensitive, he kept sucking and nibbling, even grazing his teeth over your hardened nipple. When you tried to pull away, he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Y/N, stop trying to run.”

“I’m not. It’s just that...well.....”

“It feels good so you’re scared.”

You gave him a weak smile, knowing he was right. 

Despite not being a virgin, you still had allot of hangups. You hated to admit it but it was probably because none of your boyfriends had ever worshiped your body or cared about your needs. 

But Ivar was so different. 

He was not only attentive and affectionate but he always made sure that you had at least one orgasm. 

“Can I ask you something?” You said as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Sure, babe. Ask me anything.”

“Did you really record me?”

Ivar chuckled before shaking his head. He confessed that despite what he had told you, he didn’t make the sex-tape. 

“I turned it off after you answered all my questions.”

“But, why did you tell me that the camera was on?”

“I shouldn’t have done that.” He confessed with a sad expression. “I just thought that if you believed there was a video of you having sex, you would be too scared to leave.”

“So there’s nothing?”

Ivar pulled you close and swore on his parents grave that he did not film the two of you. Believing him completely, you pressed your lips to his.

You kissed him tenderly, cupping his face as your tongue explored his mouth. As you ran your fingertips against the stubble of his sideburns, you tried to memorize the moment.

Excited by your show of affection, Ivar slid a hand between your legs. Pulling your panties aside, he told you to put his cock inside. After sitting up slightly, you positioned yourself over his curved erection.

As you felt the tip prodding at your opening, you dug your fingernails into his back. You took your time, but eventually, you managed to slide the tip inside you. 

“It’s so warm.” Ivar hissed.

Though he was eager to fuck you, he didn’t force you down or make any movements. 

Instead, Ivar kept his arms around your waist, allowing you to do as you pleased. Pushing yourself further down his shaft, you shut your eyes. The pain and pleasure overtaking your senses as Ivar’s cock stretched your tightness.

You let out a whimper before rubbing your cheek against his forehead. 

Seeing that you needed help, Ivar’s hands went to your ass. He cupped your cheeks, spreading them slightly in order to have better control of your body. Lifting you up slowly, he shut his eyes, enjoying the sensation of your pussy sliding on his cock.

Tensing his jaw, Ivar slid you down his shaft again.

“Yes.” You moaned, sinking your nails even deeper into his flesh.

After setting you down on his entire length, Ivar’s hips began thrusting upward. You felt him squeezing your ass tighter each time his balls met your opening. With your eyes still closed, you began rotating your hips in unison with his.

Before long Ivar changed pace, pounding your pussy while holding you perfectly still. Your thighs began to tremble uncomfortably as your walls contracted around his cock.

The start of your orgasm was so overwhelming, you had to rest your forehead on his.

“Fuck me Ivar! Fuck me!”

“Don’t move.” He grunted, still pounding into you. “I’m going to cum.”

Just as you felt his warm release spreading inside you, your orgasm arrived. You clung to Ivar for dear life, screaming his name as you climaxed together.

“Tell me it’s mine.” He grunted as he milked his cock into your pussy. “Come on, babe. Tell me.”

“It’s yours. 

“What’s mine?”

“My...................pu.........pussy.”

Cum began dripping down his cock as he continued thrusting - the sound of his wet cock hitting your pussy filling the room. After a few more minutes, both of you came off your high, sweaty and exhausted.

Carefully, Ivar laid you on the couch and lay beside you. As you relaxed, he caressed the small of your back in circular motions. You were so exhausted, you didn’t say anything. Instead you just laid there, listening to his heartbeat.

As for Ivar, he wasn’t as calm as he looked. 

Despite his promise, his heart was broken. And truth be told, he was tempted to make you stay. But he had decided against it. Sure he could tear up your plane ticket or tie you up, but that wasn’t love.

He may have had his issues but Ivar was a reasonable person. If he truly cared about you, he knew he couldn’t keep you as his hostage any longer.

___________________________

The following morning, you woke to the sound of the prepaid phone’s alarm. 

After taking a warm shower and getting dressed, you busied yourself with last minute details. Making sure you had packed everything, you sat on your suitcase and struggled to close it.

It would have closed easily like before, however, Ivar had insisted that you keep the designer things he had bought. Once you finally managed to zip and padlock the suitcase, you stood and looked around.

“Ivar?” You said, entering the kitchen.

It was strange. 

When you got up to take your shower, he was still asleep on the couch. But now, you couldn't find him anywhere. After making yourself a cup of coffee, you finally spotted him in the backyard.

He was seated on a white bench, still wearing his sweatpants from the night before. The only other piece of clothing he had on was a multicolored brown sweater.

“Isn’t he cold?” You wondered. 

After putting on your hoodie, you grabbed the coffee and exited the backdoor. Making your way to where Ivar was sitting, you called out. However, he didn’t turn around.

When you finally reached his side, he didn’t even bother to look at you. Instead, he lit a cigarette and ran a hand over his head.

“I........I’m done packing.”

“That’s good.”

Ivar said nothing else before taking a drag. 

As he blew the smoke through his nostrils, his gaze remained over the distance. You didn’t know what to do. With the driver only five minutes away, you were getting frustrated.

You wanted to tell Ivar that he was being very rude, but you didn’t want to start a fight.

Besides, you kind of knew why he was being so cold. Perhaps you shouldn’t have told him that you couldn’t stay in touch. You didn’t intend for it to sound so mean but you didn’t want to lie to him.

You didn’t hate Ivar or anything. In fact, you had already forgiven him for kidnapping you. However, you knew that he would complicate your life. He was a gorgeous guy with loads of money. And despite his physiological problems, somehow, you felt that he would eventually find someone special.

But that person couldn’t be you. 

Besides, even if you did stay, people would probably think you were using him.

As you were about to tell him that you were sorry about how things were ending, your phone beeped. When you read the message, it was from the transport service. They car was in the driveway.

“It seems that that my ride is--------”

“Y/N, you better go before you miss your flight.”

Despite knowing this was the last time you would see each other, Ivar still refused to look at you. 

He just kept smoking as you tried to figure out what to say. Since you couldn’t think of anything, you bent down and kissed the top of his head. After running your fingers through his dark locks, you gave him one last kiss on the cheek.

“Goodbye Ivar. Take good care of yourself.”

__________________________

“Not to bother you, Miss.” The driver said, looking at you through the rear view mirror. “But there’s a box of Kleenex in the compartment to your right.”

You had left Ivar’s house about twenty minutes earlier, and the entire time you had done nothing but bawl your eyes out. Since the two of you parted on bad terms, you couldn’t help wondering what he was doing.

Was he still sitting in the backyard? Or was he throwing away anything that reminded him of you? 

“I need to stop thinking about him.” You thought, chastising yourself.

But no matter what you did, you couldn’t. 

Even trying to distract yourself with Netflix and music didn’t help. After a few minutes had passed, you looked at the driver.

“How long until we reach the airport?” 

“About an hour and fifteen minutes. Of course that all depends on the traffic.”

You sighed and settled into the leather seat. 

Taking some Kleenex from the compartment, you wiped your face. As you stared out the window, you tried to enjoy the scenery. It worked for a while, but it didn’t take long before your mind wandered to Ivar again.

You really regretted not taking his number. 

He tried to give it to you several times, however you kept saying ‘no’. You knew that if you saved it, you would be tempted to call him. Now, you really wish you had not been so stubborn.

Returning your attention back to the scenic countryside, you tried to focus on things back home. Soon you would be back in your own apartment and with your own friends. And hopefully, if things went well, you would even snag a new job. 

You had quit your old one prior to coming to Iceland. 

In fact, the entire trip was a “clear my head” vacation. Not that it had worked. Ironically, you were now more confused than ever. After another five minutes of fighting with your thoughts, you leaned forward again.

“Excuse me? I have a question.”

“Yes, Miss.”

“I know this may sound strange, but could you go back? To the house you picked me up from........I mean.”

“Pardon?”

Your heart was racing and your palms were sweating, but you managed to tell him that you didn’t want to go to the airport. With a nod, the driver exited the highway and rerouted his GPS.

As you relaxed in the seat again, everything in your head was telling you that you were being impulsive. You family and friends would call you crazy. And what about your so-called boyfriend? What would he say to everyone?

“Who cares!” You thought.

For once, you were making a decision that actually made you happy.  

And it was about time too. You had spent so much of your life being everything for everyone, that you didn’t even know who you were anymore. 

But no more. This time, you would put yourself first.

_________________________________

As soon as the car pulled into the driveway, you jumped out before it even came to a full stop. You gave the poor driver a scare, but he kept quiet as he put the gear in park.

Running up the steps, you rushed to the doorbell and pressed it several times. 

You had butterflies in your stomach. But despite the nerves about how Ivar was going to react, you couldn’t wait to see his face. You rang the doorbell some more but when he didn’t come to the door, you got worried.

Ivar should have answered already. 

After all, he had security cameras so he would have seen the car before you even got out. As you nervously paced, thinking he had gone somewhere, the front door suddenly swung open. 

Standing there, shirtless, was your sweet Ivar. When you noticed that his eyes were red from crying, your own welled with tears. Without waiting for you to say a word, he swept you into his arms. 

As you wrapped your legs around him, Ivar stared into your eyes as if in shock.

“I couldn’t leave.” You confessed as tears streamed down your cheeks. “I......I felt like I was dying.”

He didn’t say anything. Instead, Ivar  gave you soft peck, allowing his lips to linger against yours before looking at you again.

“So, you still want me?” You asked in a whisper.

“Y/N, I’m yours.” He said as a lone tear ran down his face.

“Always? ”

“Always, babe.”

___________________________

 THE END

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[kpopcotton]

Simply Soft ~ NCT 127 ver.

a/n ~ here is the final version of simply soft.. i hope you like it!!

• Prompt: johnny. just johnny. • Genre: platonic fluff, bullet point scenario, nct member!reader  • Warning(s): strong desire to be a part of nct • Reader Gender: gender-neutral

==≎==

Taeil

ok google, what does soft mean?

never have you seen taeil so whipped for someone

always supporting you and looking at you with the biggest heart eyes

haechan pretends to get jealous and petty whenever taeil shows you more attention than him

you have competitions sometimes

but besides that,

you show taeil so much love and he has so much to give in return

he’s not the best at expressing his love, but you know he cares through the little things

like when he cleans up after you 

or gives you firm hugs that last tens of minutes at a time when you aren’t feeling the best

or lets you rest in his bed if you fall asleep during the haechan movie nights you crash

he finds you so precious and never wants to see you sad

his favorite time to hang out with you is right after the two of you get home from a busy day

doesn’t matter what you both did, he’ll make sure to find you at the dorms

most of the time he just gives you the look which means he’s picked out some snacks and is ready when you are

to him, there is nothing better than taking a shower and then inviting you to put on face masks and dance to music

lets you pick the playlist

but, he’s very picky about what kind of music it is

either gives you one of his hoodies or steals one of yours

you both get comfy clothes on

and then apply skincare before picking a face mask and putting them on each other

lots of cute selfies that will never be shared but always treasured

in conclusion, taeil loves relaxing with you

“oh! oh, this is the song! quick, come dance!”

==≎==

Johnny

are you ready for another...

johnny’s communication center?

probably not

you’ve only gotten to appear in one of johnny’s youtube videos which was like a 40-second debut

rip y/n

however, contrary to popular belief, you do spend time with him

he’s like the best big brother in the world, even if he’s younger than you

brings you to clothing stores, coffee shops, bookstores, ikea

any place you can buy things really

his favorite places to go with you are clothing stores

forces you to try on clothes that are in his style just to see how they look on you

whines when you try to get him to wear your style of clothing

says your fashion sense is terrible and sad

but wears the clothes anyway to see your reaction

loves seeing you smile

sometimes you go through johnny’s fashion evaluation

either horrendous combinations or luxury styles

there is no in-between

in the case of horrendous combinations (which happened at a thrift store in chicago):

he had you put on a sparkly rainbow bikini top that left little to the imagination, khakis, a lumberjack flannel around your neck, a bandana around your head, sunglasses that had to be at the tip of your nose, and thigh-high, high heeled boots

you had never felt more out of place and uncomfortable in your life

but johnny loved it every second of it

you made sure to get him back though

you gave him a neon blue lacy bralette, a puke green and brown sweater that you forced him to tie into a crop top, jean shorts that were too short with leggings underneath, knee-high socks with laces pulled over the leggings, and strappy sandals

he pretended to model the outfit for you confidently but his bright red neck and cheeks gave it away that he was embarrassed

in the case of luxury items (which was in some uptown, expensive store in japan):

johnny somehow managed to pick out an outfit that accentuated all of your best features with a color that made you feel confident and sexy

you felt you had never looked better

you returned the favor of course and gave him a suit that was definitely a perfect fit and it was obviously red because when does johnny not look good in red

“damn, y/n, look at us! we are the visuals of nct no doubt!”

==≎==

Taeyong

duality.

never have you seen a more confusing duo in kpop history

aeygo to the maxxxx

charisma to that maxxxx

it’s like a metronome how fast you two change when you’re together

the power.

neither soft stans nor hard stans can handle it

the twitter timeline is a dangerous place

fans could be cooing at you both and having heart pains while commenting about how babie you two are

but then die because the next picture is you in all black with a harness doing a questionably 18+ pose with taeyong who’s probably got his signature crop top on

n e ways, let us move on

taeyong adores you so much and it honestly makes him so flustered when you spend time with him

he loves, loves, loves when you take him out

he doesn’t leave the dorm much unless it’s for work

invite him to join you anywhere and he’ll instantly agree with so much enthusiasm, it’ll make you want to give him the world (though he deserves it)

he enjoys the little things

like walking down the street and bumping shoulders every so often while you guys talk about your days

or holding hands while crossing the street to make sure the other is safe

if you go somewhere to eat and offer a bite to him, he’ll melt

do anything for him and he’ll melt, really

one time you held the door for him and he had heart eyes the rest of the night

another time, you complimented his taste in fashion while you took a few pictures of him for instagram and he couldn’t stop smiling

how can he be so precious?

always tries to impress you with a surprise while you are out

he might spoil his new solo track or pay for a meal if you stop anywhere to eat, but that’s when he’s feeling extra

one time he surprised you with a tight hug and a genuine thank you that actually made you cry

“baby, please... spend some time.. with me?”

==≎==

Yuta

you and yuta are like two peas in a pod

like peanut butter and jelly

like strawberries and chocolate

like french fries and burgers

like fish and chips

sorry, i’ll stop with food pairs im kinda hungry right now

anyways, you get it

yuta feels lost when you aren’t around. you are his best friend, his other half (winwin who?)

yuta without you just feels... wrong

nct’s instragram is full of the pictures you guys take when you go on adventures together, which is very often

it’s his favorite thing to do with you; traveling and exploring

you pull up a map on your phone and go buck wild

you’ve both found some pretty cool places and some amazing views

you found a hidden cove somewhere off the coast in california but you guys got in trouble later that day because no one could find you

turns out you guys had wandered a lot farther than you thought

the pictures you showed the group made up for it

they were gorgeous candids of the both of you, laughing and smiling together

one was a timed one where you were both jumping

all of these photos and videos were posted to instagram which made a lot of people happy just to see yuta and you so happy in your elements

sometimes, you guys force mark to join you which takes some convincing because you two are always trouble 

mark wouldn’t admit it in a million years, but those moments he shares with the two of you are where he has the most fun

he never knew two people could love each other platonically as much as the two of you do

however, he wants to barf whenever you guys call each other sappy pet names because, ew, third wheeling

“where should we go today, honey?”

==≎==

Doyoung

my birthday twin, let’s get it

how do i even begin to explain how much this boy cares?

you are the third member on his “favorite member” list

now, don’t get petty when he says you’re third

the story of how you got demoted from first is a bit funny in hindsight, jeno (who’s in first) takes the liberty of making fun of you for it whenever you hang out

jungwoo (who owns second) always tries to stand up for you though

you were messing around with taeyong on top of a set-piece while shooting a music video

doyoung had scolded you and told you to stop or else you would get hurt

you decided to laugh off his warning because you “weren’t that clumsy” 

turns out you were

taeyong did something cool (when does he not?) and you wanted to try it, so after he told you how to do it a few times, you did

you fell

not very far, only a couple feet, but you landed on your back

the sound was so loud that it startled everyone

doyoung had a heart attack

he thought you died

you had the wind knocked out of you and your back was a little sore, but other than that you were fine

at least ten people swarmed you

including taeyong who was apologizing like crazy

doyoung was right there, lifting you up and already giving you an earful about how he told you to be cautious

once people were sure you were fine and didn’t have a concussion, they left you alone

doyoung doesn’t like much physical affection, but he’ll put that aside to smother you against his chest and harshly reprimand you

he’s a mom friend and will always be

will never tell you, but he prizes the moments when you get sick or hurt

sounds sadistic, and maybe it is, but he loves when you are a helpless baby and he has to take care of you

always scolding you for compromising your health, but doesn’t stop pampering you

tells the other members off when they try to help him

makes you soup when you are sick and gets you anything you ask for without complaint

if you get hurt, he’s right there with some form of first aid

and since i know you’re wondering: yes, he will cuddle you if you ask.

“come to me when you need help, you dumb baby.”

==≎==

Jaehyun

jung jaehyun is the definition of boyfriend material

when you two get together, the aesthetic blogs pale in comparison

everything the two of you do together is an aesthetic, really

golden hour selfies on rooftops where your skin glows and your eyes look the most beautiful

candids on the streets of the city where you're illuminated by the street signs

coffee shop pictures where you look so perfectly in your element sipping coffee and looking out the window

snapshots of “date nights” where you stay in to watch movies or kdramas with popcorn, candy, and a bottle of wine

couple’s outfits where you pose like models while someone takes your photo

you guys do it all

honestly, the biggest ship in all of nct is you and jaehyun

fanfiction writers are jealous no doubt because how the hell can the two of you live out their writings so flawlessly

some people use the pictures the two of you take as templates for their mood boards or “nct as boyfriends” projects

you both probably started a vlog series on the nct youtube account

however, the time you guys spend together is strictly platonic, no matter how badly people want you two to “just date”

neither of you tries anything romantic because blegh, disgusting, i’ve known this person for so long they are literally my best friend, my sibling, a family member i’ve never had but always wanted

sure, jaehyun’s ears turn red whenever you guys dress up in similar outfits but it’s because of people’s reactions

if you see a picture with jaehyun shy next to you, it’s probably because johnny is screaming behind the scenes about how good the two of you look

speaking of johnny, he’s the hype man

also, sort of, maybe, kinda the reason you guys do so much aesthetic stuff

he says you guys are too good looking not to “bless the world with your visuals”

to sum this up, jaehyun treasures you and does the most with you

“what are you wearing today? we should match since it’s our friend-iversary!”

==≎==

WinWin

see wayv ver.

==≎==

Jungwoo

i love him with all my heart and i really miss him right now

it’s real soft hours up in here

not a single moment where you aren’t giving each other all the love you can muster

big comfy sweaters with sweater paws

love confessions every hour

always telling you he loves you and that you are his

treats you like royalty while also babying you into next week

he’s honestly the sweetest person on the planet and he can’t handle himself around you because dang, you really be out here existing and stuff

looking that good

since he’s so affectionate, i see him cuddling you like there’s no tomorrow

will build a pillow fort for you

honestly, he will do anything for you as long as you say please

not afraid to kiss you either. don’t matter where or when, he’s ready

some would say it’s his favorite thing to do

your cheek looking extra squishy that day? his lips have claimed that territory

your forehead exposed? kiss.

your neck easily accessible? smooch.

your hand in his? peck.

your lips in a pout? he better hold himself back because he’s about ready to risk it all just to give you a kith

the other members try not to seem too surprised every time you accept his lips on your skin

they freak out whenever it happens to them, or get super flustered

they don’t know how you handle his affection so well

you say it’s a talent when they ask you

a.k.a. you treasure all the affection he gives you because he is literally the best boy and you would die for him

he worships you on the daily (lucky)

he says his heart beats irregularly whenever you are around because he loves you that much

it was actually scientifically proven during a tv show when you had to make other members’ heart rates fluctuate with aegyo

you hadn’t started doing anything yet, but just by looking at you his heart did a boom boom and everyone freaked out

holds the title of the member with the best hair second-biggest ship in all of nct and of course, it’s with you

fans have so many videos of jungwoo hanging off of you and being clingy

always talking about you like you put the stars in the sky

you know that video when jungwoo was giving mark “the look”? it’s like that with you but at least ten times worse and all the time because you are his baby, his world, his favorite member

always has to comment about what you two did that day

never ever forgets to talk about how much he cares about you

“yeah, y/n and i are close. i love them with all my heart. they are perfect!”

==≎==

Mark

see dreamies ver

==≎==

Haechan

see dreamies ver

[emile-hides]

YouWatch

This is a conversation topic that came up playing Overwatch last night; What if the Overwatch cast all has YouTube channels?

And while we voiced our opinions and debated to eachother, I feel the need to share all of my own takes as well.

Now, there’s 32 of these assholes so I’ll put it under the cut. Cause it’s long

Ana

Her channel is called “Grandma reacts”

Her viewers send her videos or shows to react to

She likes to have Jack, Gabe, Rein, and Torb on sometimes for some of the funnier videos

Hates daredevil compilations of people on high places with no safety gear

She swears at jump scares

Ashe

Daily vlogs

She calls her viewers part of the gang

BOB is the camera man and the crowd favorite

She mostly just likes to chat about nothing while wandering around the hide out

BOB makes really cool time lapses of them riding her bike down Route 66

Baptiste

Runs an advice channel

Mostly does Q&A live streams 

All of his ad revenue goes to local charities and hospitals

People sometimes donate to him and that also goes to charity

There’s a very slim chance he got overnight famous because he’s so pretty

Bastion

One 12 minute video of him playing with Ganymede in Torbjorn’s backyard

Torbjorn recorded it for him

Brigitte

Tried to do a make-up channel

Eventually devolved into a “How to” builder’s channel

Can put together an Ikea bookshelf in 15 minutes without even glancing at the instructions

Ikea furniture speed runs are her most popular videos

D.Va

Canonically already has a gaming channel

Also has a daily vlog channel where she hangs out with Lucio and Junkrat a lot

Takes requests on what games she plays

Despite mainly being an online PvP gamer, she adores playing story games and voice acting

She cried on live stream when she finished Undertale

Doomfist

Runs Talon’s official YouTube channel

All the videos are join Talon adds

Echo

Her channel is a mash

Will play or do any kind of video that’s popular at the moment

There’s three episodes of a Minecraft LP left to die

Seven vlogs all recorded almost 3 months apart

Two animations she made herself

A couple of reaction videos

And a Pachimari unboxing

She has a lot of sponsors

Genji

Also, canonically, has a gaming channel

Sometimes does videos of sick ninja tricks in his backyard

Has the same channel from before his fight with Hanzo, so there’s a 4-5 year gap between two videos

“So my brother tried to kill me” is the first video he makes when he finally comes back

Occasionally makes “Master reacts to (anime)” videos with Zenyatta

Hanzo

The show off channel

It’s mostly just target practice with his bow and arrow Genji recorded for him

90% of his comments are telling him to put a shirt on and cover the nipple

His channel also went dead after he killed Genji

Might start recording and uploaded unscheduled vlogs during his hobo days

Also does movie reviews

Junkrat

If I may defer your attention to this post

Yeah he just runs a demolition channel

Roadhog makes sure the camera doesn’t get damaged

Junkrat really loves the slow motion effect 

Lucio

Like Hana, he has two channels

One is his official music channel with music videos and concert clips

The other is also a vlog channel where he hangs out with Hana and Jamie

He’ll also talk about serious issues and his opinions on them on his second channel

McCree

Much like Hanzo, runs a show off channel

His is more popular because he’s straight up a cowboy though

People think it’s a gimmick for the channel. They have no idea he looks and sounds like that all the time

Mei

Has a scientific fact of the day Podcast with Winston

Talks about big issues

Her channel is very kid friendly and she explains things like global warming in a way they can understand

A lot of her videos will be watched by kids in science class

Mercy

“What to do encase of an emergency” tutorial videos

Gives basic medical training, like how to do CPR

Her videos are short and to the point so they can be played in an actual emergency

Genji is usually the person she uses as an example

Moira

Her channel is like Junkrat’s but more contained(?)

She does dangerous shit with chemicals but somehow it always ends wholesomly

The last minute of the video she speaks in a soothing Bob Ross voice as the lab is on fire behind her

The videos typically end with Angella coming back from her break

Orisa

It’s technically Efi’s channel

It’s a vlog to record Orisa’s progress tword becoming Numbani’s protector

Very popular, everyone loves how wholesome Orisa is

The money from the ads goes to fixing whatever Orisa breaks while trying to be helpful

All rude comments are deleted

Pharah

Show off channel

“99 dunks in a row” and such types of videos

They’re typically sped up with relaxing music

Lucio has appeared to play soccer with her a few times

Reaper

As Gabriel Reyes he ran a prank channel around the Overwatch base

He didn’t do any pranks that hurt or scared people though

Just recorded himself eating vanilla pudding out of a mayo jar to get people’s reactions

His favorite people to prank were Jesse and Genji because they had the most over the top reactions

Reinhardt is unprankable

The channel died with the fall of Overwatch

Reinhardt

Advice channel but louder than Baptiste

He’s full of energy in every one of his videos

Calls himself his viewer’s Grandpa

If anyone comes to him for advice on how to handle abuse of any kind he will adopt them on the spot

Also does meme reactions, sometimes has to have Brigitte explain what makes it funny

Has one video where he speaks quietly called “Grandpa reads a bedtime story” and it’s literally just him reading a bedtime story with soft music in the background

Roadhog

Toy unboxings

All of his videos are silent aside from the cute music he puts of them

The only part of him that’s ever on camera are his hands

Sigma

All his videos devolve into rambles about the universe

Other than that his channel doesn’t have a real theme

He tries to explain scientific principals but quickly turns into a shouting mess about the universe and gravity

Moira is the one to stop recording in the middle of his breakdowns

Soldier 76

Use to run a tutorial channel

Gabe called it “Dad Teaches you” and Jack hates that he’s not your father

He teaches you to cook basic meals and do simple repairs on a car

He talks in a very fatherly voice

Begrudgingly, he became his veiwers father

His channel died with Overwatch as well

Sombra

Gaming channel, but hacked

Does glitched speedruns on live stream

Clickbait thumbnails and titles

“How to get 1,000,000,000 free V-Bucks in Fortnite”

Steals kid’s Fortnite accounts

Symmetra

Stim channel

All of her videos focus on satisfying visuals

Someone asked her to do ASMR once and she hated it. The video existed for less than 24 hours

Torbjorn

Like Brigitte, runs a builder channel

It also doubles as a story time channel as he tends to ramble about the good old days

All his videos are 30+ minutes long

Somehow adds “and that’s how I lost my eye” to every story so no one knows how it actually happened

Bastion guest appears in a lot or Torb’s videos but only because he’s bored and wants attention

Tracer

Animated story telling

Makes animations of their missions and her day-to-day life

Thanks to her chronal accelerator animations take half as long

Still only uploads like two videos a month

Widowmaker

Food review videos

Hates everything, nothing gets high marks

Gets view ship cause she’s hot and very snarky

Winston

His channel is exactly like Mei’s

It’s more popular though because he’s a monkey and thus draws kid’s attention better

All of his viewers are elementary school science teachers and their class

Wrecking Ball

Tried to do a builder channel but all the comments were on how cute he is

Hates being called cute so he made his mech say swear words

He’s very popular with little boys

Also loves destruction and may destroy things for fun

“5000lbs wrecking ball VS Junkrat’s house”

Zarya

Vlogs but like... Work out vlogs.

It’s just time lapses of her at the gym

Insanely popular with lesbians for very obvious reasons

Encourages her viewers to take care of themselves and start slow

Blew a kiss at the camera once, became the most used image of her on the internet

Zenyatta

Most of his videos are relaxing music over beautiful visuals he recorded

The other half of his videos are meditation leadings and yoga

He’s also done videos on the omnic crisis and talked in length on his belief for the future

Has one video of him pranking Genji

[monkey-network]

My Issues with Butch Hartman

Call this the sequel to my post on Mr. Enter. But honestly compared to Enter, Butch Hartman has made himself look far worse in so little time. Not only with how he uses his influence, but he basically showed his true colors not long after he left Nickelodeon. With Enter, the worst you can say about him is his opinions on media and his politics. With Hartman, there is a surprisingly lot more under his belt that made the hate towards him .

To preface this, while I’m gonna shit on this dude, I’m not shaming anyone who still likes his past content. With that said, bibbity Boppity boopity. Let’s look at the fucking scoopity.

The Telltale Oaxis

This really takes the cake as the scummiest thing Butch has done. Words and opinions can be one thing, but using your platform to basically trick some people out of their money for a project you abandoned for the most part grinds me gears a lot more. As bad as his marketing strategy was, at least Enter provided effort in his indiegogo project beforehand for god’s sake. Oaxis is one of the most pitiable crowdfunded projects I’ve seen.

It’s nearly two years since Butch got Oaxis funded and what have gotten beyond pure dead silence. Nearly two years and little to no significant updates for Oaxis’s Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, his Youtube, or the site’s official account. No wait, that last part’s kind of a lie. They had monthly updates on the official site up until September 2019. Could’ve posted this on their social medias but you take what you can get. 

The major takeaway from the updates, in all fairness, was that the kickstarter wasn’t enough and they still need to raise more funds for the service. The “capital-building” stage he calls it where he’s looking for more investors in addition to getting actual programs onto the service. That and Oaxis is a big vision for Butch and his wife in spite of not only giving up the monthly updates and basically secluding any mention of Oaxis from any place else. That’s basically it and I legit feel sorry for everyone that couldn’t get their refund back.

This isn’t HBO Max or Disney+ where you just expect them to have something together after their initial announcement because they’re already media conglomerates, this is an independent project. One that people, your fans included Butch, put over 200K thinking you would at least give people something. But beyond a “sizzle reel” that said nothing aside from Oaxis going to be a thing, you have presented jack after two years. I don’t expect the ins and outs of every business meeting with executives, but staying silent about everything except for monthly newsletters that offer very little encouraging progress and hasn’t updated since September of last year is not a good sign. And I’m especially hard on this topic, Butch, because this is the biggest point where it is seriously hard to trust you. It’s not criticizing your ego when after having too many cracks in your story, you really haven’t put your money where your mouth is.

I don’t wanna presume the guy’s given up on it, hoping everybody would forget it after a while, but he’s really put the effort in to make Oaxis feel like a afterthought. I’m not an expert in business, but even I can believe that after his non-apology for not being upfront with his initial intentions, that he’d try to provide updates on the project to not come off as the scam artist people have accused him as. Even with his Youtube channel that I’ll get to later, I don’t think it’s hard consistently posting about your so called vision if you have that much faith in its success. You’ve already gotten thousands of bucks initially with the crowdfund, people deserve more than your pitiful wishful platitudes and I unfortunately can’t believe you’ll have anything after a few years. It’s not that everyone forgot about it, but you mostly took the money and ran. If Butch pops up with something if he sees this somehow, I’ll eat that crow, but I sincerely doubt it after this long. Like at least post something on the Twitter, I get depressed just looking at it; that account is the textbook definition of famine.

The Childhood Reposter

I’ve brought up Butch’s youtube channel a couple times, and it’s when every time I look at it, it’s a little sad. When it comes to major creators, I typically think that after finishing their projects they’d move to newer things. People like Lauren Faust, Mike Judge, CH Greenblatt are all continuing to make new works under differing studios while new creators are getting the spotlight. Butch though? I mean, he has a new cartoon that I swear you’ve never heard about but other than that, the dude looks like he has little to say for himself nowadays beyond the 2 shows he’s famous for, Fairly Odd Parents and Danny Phantom. I would’ve added TUFF Puppy and Bunsen is a Beast but I can see that those two aren’t his major players seeing as how they’re rarely ever mentioned on the channel.

If it’s not some watchmojo level meme video, almost every other video is about either two of those shows in some varied fashion. I get that he “created your childhood” and made credulous bank from Nickelodeon, but it’s like Danny Phantom is all that stands between him and having an audience. That and drawing anime characters in his style which is... y’know, I’ll leave that to you. It’s like he retired and yet goes on about the good old days like a fluctuating ego. He’s still making a cartoon but to him that’s hardly a factor compared to his known successes.

Personally, I wouldn’t want to just be known as the guy who made two of your countless beloved cartoons. Not that that’s all he talks about, but it’s the insistence of his legacy that unfortunately gives me Bojack Horseman vibes. He no doubt has a good thing going but I believe that this isn’t gonna last. Just saying, dude has 850K subscribers and unless it’s a real hook like with the recent Danny Phantom/Jake Long death battle, he’s hardly getting a good fraction of views anymore. There’s only so many times you can milk Danny Phantom as your masterpiece before everyone moves on.

The Holy Boast

I wanna make this short because I’m not a huge talker of religion, but I stand to say that you should NOT, under any circumstance, believe BPD, PTSD, autism, fucking heart & kidney failure can be “cured” or “healed” through sermons of prayer. This here? This is genuinely something else.

https://www.healingjourneys.today/

For clarity, this was a gospel conference hosted by Butch and his wife and yes, they openly proclaim that BPD, austism, and heart disease can be cured through prayer of holy worship.

Now, I’m gonna give a full disclosure right here because this most certainly biases my point here, like I’m gonna own this. But my grandpa was a religious man that suffer from health problems. He notably prayed to carry on, yes, but at the same time he sought medical help. Even he told me that prayers wasn’t gonna keep the pacemaker going, he went to the doctors and actually did more than read the bible to improve himself. He unfortunately passed, but he was in his 70s and I honestly couldn’t believe, as hard as I try, that he was gonna live forever. My grandpa would’ve no doubt died far earlier if he followed this conference’s logic.

My point is that this is personally unsettling. I seriously cannot believe this is how autism and religion works and it blows my mind that him and his wife thought this conference was a suitable idea. I’m not bashing them as christians, but thinking mental disorders and bodily diseases can be done away with motivational seminars because that’s basically what they are is a legit slap to the face. And the seedling idea that they’ve done this before blows my mind.

The Financial Flaker

This is very recent and everything is generally explained in the 12 minute video but long story short: Butch hired an artist and never paid them for their work. The artist in question, Kuro, describes what happened between him and Butch in this video and provides receipts. Can’t really add anything to this myself beyond this just builds to the idea that Butch cannot be trusted as a professional business maker. I believe he still has people working for him but from this video, it tells me that Hartman will gladly use those lower than him in favorable pursuits and will gladly throw ignorance when he wants to because his cartoon veteran status presents that shield from thinking he can do no wrong, which can mean throttling his hires.  Let’s end this.

The Conclusion

When I get down to it, Butch is almost a Machiavellian character in a way. It’s amazing how much the trust people have had with Hartman have evaporated in less than a couple years. It’s amazing how much his ego has truly shown after he stopped being a namestay in Nickelodeon. Haven’t even mentioned the times he arrogantly deflected criticism because he was a namestay at Nick and how a couple who’ve worked with are well aware of his ego. I can’t help but believe that even after everything, he claims ignorance to his fall from grace and keeps going. Even when more and more are knowing his true self, he’s mostly just doing what he’s been doing for the past few years.

It’s respectable in a way, but shows that the world will move on without him. Again, if you like Danny Phantom and Fairly OddParents, I won’t judge you for it nor say you should be ashamed. This isn’t about cancelling Butch, or get him to stop spreading whatever wacky things he believes in. It’s my personal take of how this man whom I once respected because of what he made before has lost every bit of that from me. It really feels like he grew up with that “I Created Your Childhood” mentality being a 4 time showrunner for almost a couple decades. And when he finally left Nickelodeon, I guess the chance to be that stand out self-made success got to his head and he finally showed his true colors. I now find it hard to believe Butch cares about the little guy that were his fans as much as he rides off his success and others who tolerate him. As such, like JK Rowling, more are seeing this side of him and leaving him behind. Meanwhile Butch is gonna chug on until he just loses steam. It’s kinda like Icarus where the guy will make every effort to fly to the sun. But sooner or later, he’s gonna fall, and in the end I doubt anyone’s gonna care to see it. I know he won’t.

[janebennetts]

the one where richie is in cats

The day that Cats is released is one of the best days of Eddie’s life. Not because it’s a good movie. It’s not.

It’s because he can make fun of Richie for this for the rest of their lives.

“Let me get this straight,” Eddie said about a year before. “You’re going to be in Cats.”

“What? Why are you making that face? It’s, like, a million bucks for three days of work.”

“You can’t sing. Or dance.”

“Wait. It’s a musical?”

Apparently James Corden had been in talks to play Bustopher Jones, but the director had decided to cast Richie in an attempt to appeal to younger audiences. Especially LGBTQ+ viewers. Yes, Richie is playing a gay cat.

Richie texts Eddie a picture on the first day of shooting, his face covered in blue dots for the CGI. Eddie, of course, immediately sends it to the rest of the Losers. 

mike: hahaha!

ben: where’s taylor swift

bev: furry richie: confirmed

bill: say hi to taylor swift for us

stan: like they’ll let richie anywhere near taylor swift

richie: :(

richie: there are people doing legit vocal warmups

richie: there are people stretching!! 

richie: how am I here

eddie: i swear if you blow out your back again

As it turns out, the production team anticipated Richie’s inability to sing or dance. As soon as Richie gets home, he buries his head into Eddie’s chest and reveals that he has a body double and a voice double. Who is James Corden. 

“So you’re just...there.” Eddie says.

As soon as the trailer drops, he instantly goes viral on Twitter.  

streamhotknife: richie tozier is playing a gay cat in cats. you can’t convince me that the world didn’t end in 2012.

The actual footage of Cat Richie, unfortunately, deserves all the buzz. When his forehead is covered in fur, it just makes his entire head look huge, especially when compared to how jarringly small his eyes look with contacts. 

Richie tries to refuse doing any press for the movie, but they manage to force him to go on Seth Meyers’ show. 

Before filming starts, Seth has to give Richie a pep talk to get him to come on stage. 

“Nobody asks Andy Samberg about Daddy’s Boy,” Seth says. “You survived a performance where you forgot your own name. You’re going to be alright.”

“When Eddie and I are in bed, sometimes he’ll shudder and I’ll know he’s thinking of me as a cat” Richie says dejectedly. “I’ve already spent my paycheck on therapy sessions.”

Seth goes easy on him and mostly asks about his famous friends and Eddie, but finally he has to say something about the movie. “So your next movie is getting a lot of buzz…” he starts.

There’s a long silence where Richie picks a hangnail. And then he literally says, “I’m not in any movies.” 

When the movie gets released and the reviews start coming out, Richie’s mostly at the point where he finds it funny, but then he’ll think of Eddie going and seeing a cat with Richie’s face plastered on it dance and sing.

“Please don’t divorce me,” he says as they get into bed one night.

Eddie wraps his arms around him and squeezes. “I’ll love you for all of your nine lives.”

Stan and Patty and their three year old daughter Hannah fly out for the premiere, mostly for moral support but also so they can see Richie’s reaction in real time.

“Daddy, I’m scared,” Hannah says after the first musical number. 

“Me too,” Stan answers. 

Richie’s big number comes quickly. It’s horrifying. Firstly, apparently nobody realized that James Corden has a British accent and Richie doesn’t, so when he sings, it’s 100% clear they’ve dubbed it. There’s also a shot of Richie/Bustopher Jones shoving an entire fish into his mouth, and one of him diving into a dumpster, and actually, it’s all so good that Eddie knows he’s going to single-handedly make the YouTube clip of this song reach a million views. 

The press made such a big deal about the “gay scene” that there were mutliple articles in the Daily Mail about it, but it actually turns out to be Bustopher Jones putting his human hands (!) on another cat at the end of the movie and calling him a snack. Because Bustopher Jones likes to eat, get it?

“I actually liked it,” Patty says as they leave. “It was no Mamma Mia, but…”

Instantly, Stan’s face lights up. “Patty loves musicals,” he says. “So you can trust her opinion. Although, I still don’t understand what a jellicle cat is.” 

About a year later, a tumblr post appears and gains over three thousand notes, sparking a heated debate in the “richie tozier” fandom: finally watching cats and why did nobody tell me that richie is so hot as a cat?

[name-me-regret]

If The World Was Ending 7/?

If The World Was Ending Chapter Seven: A Little Peace Of Mind

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

“I'm so tired I haven't slept a wink I'm so tired My mind is on the blink I wonder, should I get up and fix myself a drink? No, no, no

I'm so tired I don't know what to do I'm so tired My mind is set on you I wonder should I call you But I know what you would do...

You know I'd give you everything I've got for a little peace of mind...”

~I’m So Tired - The Beatles

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Buck looked at his sister with pain and grief, not seeming to realize that either Tony or the rest of the members of the 118 were close by. “I... Mads... Eddie dropped Christopher off with me,” he told her, voice shaking. “He-he thought, you know, doing some actitivities with him would take would-would get me out of my apartment and out of my head.” She reached out to wipe several tears that ran down his face. “Maddie... I brought him to the pier.”

She’d grabbed his hand and now squeezed it, trying not to think of him with Christopher at the pier. It would likely give her nightmares. “And... and I had him. All right, Mads? I-I had him. I-I kept him safe.” He gave a sardonic smile and a forced laugh. “We were, uh... we were on top of a ladder truck, then the water receded... and... then he was gone. I lost Christopher,” he said, a crying mess at that point. Neither Tony or the others could move or say anything as the man poured out his heart to his sister. “I c-checked the emergency refuge camps at the Promenade, at the high school... a cupcakery on Strand,” he said with a hysterical laugh that was more of a sob.

“Oh Evan,” she wept, bringing her other hand over the one she was holding.

“I swear I don’t even remember cutting myself... I j-just... I lost him so I had to find him, no matter what. I couldn’t face Eddie until I did, because how could I tell my best friend I lost his son?” He clenched his eyes closed. “He trusted me and I failed him... failed Christopher.”

She smiled past her tears, beyond trying to keep them from falling as they ran down her face. Tony was at the head of his cot out of Evan’s line of sight, and he was content to stay there, now that he saw for himself he was alright. “Evan, look at you, baby brother. You’re a mess. You lost enough blood to need at least two transfusions.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his forehead. “And you managed to find him, even being like this. Even if you hadn’t, you did everything you could to find him. You are not a failure, Evan Buckley.”

Tony took that moment to reveal himself when he saw Evan about to protest. “You know you’ll never win an argument against her, so don’t even try it. Even I can’t win one and I’m a certified genius,” he said as he stepped into Buck’s line of sight. He laid a hand on Maddie’s shoulder as a sign of support. “And what did I say this morning about staying out of trouble?”

Evan stared up at Tony with wide blue eyes. “Tony? W-what are you doing here?” He frowned. “And you didn’t say anything about keeping out of trouble,” he argued, because of course he would.

Tony stared at him and then looked at Maddie. “Is he kidding?” She shook her head, but there was a bit of a smile on her face. “I’m here to see you. In case you forgot, you were hit with a tsunami, Ev. You were supposed to be safe at home, but I should have known you’d put yourself in the middle of this.” His voice was teasing, but his whiskey brown eyes gave away how worried he’d been. There was a reason he always wore sunglasses, since his eyes were the most expressive part of his face.

Evan licked his dry and cracked lips. “You know, when I said come visit me, I didn’t expect it to be this soon,” he joked, never mind that he was laid up in a field hospital, beat up to hell from a natural disaster.

“Well, how can I not come running when its an invitation from someone as pretty as you,” Tony said with a more relaxed grin, the panic induced worry having subsided a bit. Also, his exhaustion was quickly catching up to him and he felt a bit light headed.

“Ugh, can you two please not flirt over my head?” Maddie said as she threw up her hands. “Honestly, its always the same with you two.”

The other members had heard the whole thing and had been utterly shocked into quiet, and it was finally Chimney that broke the silence. “Buck, you know Tony Stark? And flirt with him?” the man asked incredulously.

The blonde haired man, whose hair was so filthy it looked dark brown at the moment, snorted. He didn’t even seem shocked to see them there, or worrying that they might have heard him and what he’d said to Maddie. “Tony flirts with everyone,” he told the others, seemingly unfazed about them knowing he knew Iron Man. “He once flirted with our 80-year-old grandmother.”

Tony looked offended. “I’ll have you know-” The rest of his sentence was cut off as he suddenly crumpled as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. If it wasn’t for Bobby’s quick reflexes, the billionaire would have hit the floor.

Evan sat up in alarm, blue eyes wide in shock and one arm around his mid-section where he had a contusion from being knocked around when he’d been hit with the first wave. “Is he okay?! Did he get hurt?” His face was screwed up in pain and Maddie forced him to lay back down, but only did when Bobby, with the help of Hen and Chim, had laid Tony onto the empty cot next to his.

“Check him for any injuries,” Bobby said to Hen and Chim.

However, before either could move to comply, the sound of heavy footsteps interrupted them, and moments later the Iron Man armor clanked into view. ‘I’m sorry, Captain Nash, but I’m going to have to ask you to step away from Mr. Stark,’ a mechanized British voice came from the suit.

Bobby and the rest of them held out their hands in a universal sign of surrender, but took it as a good sign that the armor hadn’t lifted it’s hands. They’d seen enough footage of the Iron Man in action (whether from YouTube videos or news footage) to know that’s where the blasts he fired came from.

Bobby remembered hearing Tony talking to someone by the name Jarvis, and wondered if this was that person. Perhaps they were operating the armor from another location. “Jarvis was it?” The other didn’t answer but the armor had come to stop beside the cot they’d put Tony in. Now people were starting to take notice of Tony. “We just want to help him, make sure he isn’t hurt,” Bobby told him.

‘There is no need. Mr. Stark has sustained no injury. His collapse was caused by extreme fatigue. I will take him now and proceed back to the tower.’

Bobby made a face at that, since they all knew what tower he was talking about; Stark Tower, which was in New York. That was a long trip, even in a suit that could go at high speeds. “Or,” Maddie said as she stood up slowly, “you could take him to my house. I have an air mattress from when Evan was staying with me.”

The Iron Man armor turned to look at her, and it was a bit unsettling knowing it wasn’t Tony in there moving it around. ‘Madeline Buckley, you are a trusted person. This is acceptable. Although, I will inform his medical proxy of his location in case he needs any medical assistance.’

Maddie nodded. “Of course, now is it alright to have my boyfriend Howie Han and his partner Henrietta Wilson get him out to my car?” She wouldn’t be able to get him out of here without some kind of help.

‘That is acceptable,’ Jarvis informed her.

Her eyes snapped to Buck as he tried to sit up again. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

Evan groaned as he swung his legs over the side of the cot. “I’m going with you, of course,” he said. As he straightened, his gaze caught with Eddie’s and saw Christopher in his arms. The boy seemed to be fast asleep and Buck felt relief fill him. It was one thing to be told he was safe and another to actually see if for himself. “Chris...”

Eddie stepped closer, the man trying to squash the... annoyance he was feeling ever since he’d heard Tony freaking Stark say Buck’s name (and flirting with him, but he wouldn’t delve too much into that right now). Who, apparently, called him by his first name, as well as a nickname that wasn’t the one they were all used to; Ev he’d called him. Eddie couldn’t describe exactly why this bothered him. “He’s fine... Buck,” he said, hoping he didn’t notice his hesitation.

The man didn’t seem to notice, but he saw Bobby eye him in his peripheral but decided to ignore it for now. “I’m glad,” Buck gasped, his eyes red as if it was taking everything in him to keep from crying. He’d seen how vulnerable Buck had been with Maddie and Eddie had never seen him lose so much control. It burned a bitterness in his throat, especially wondering if Stark had ever seen Buck this vulnerable.

Then the man was grunting as he forced himself to his feet. “Wait, Buck,” Eddie said as Bobby jerked forward as Buck swayed. The man’s parental instincts always kicked into overhear whenever Buck was involved. Eddie at times wondered if Buck reminded him of the son he’d lost, but had never had to balls to ask. There were some things you didn’t ask Bobby Nash, and one of those things was about the children he’d lost. “You should stay. You’re still hurt.”

The blonde man shook his head, Eddie’s lips thinning with a frown that he seemed so intent on accompanying Tony that he was disregarding his own health. “I’m fine, and besides, there are other more seriously injured people that need this bed.”

“Man, why you gotta be so stubborn?” Eddie snapped, quieting down when Chris gave a sleepy moan and shifted in his arms. “I’m sure... Iron Man’s friend can take care of him.” He indicated the suit. “He doesn’t need an escort.”

Buck was looking at him with a confused frown, and Eddie knew he was being unreasonable, but he was irritated. Eddie had almost lost Chris, and then realized that he had also almost lost his best friend as well. It was a combination of everything that was fueling his annoyance; from the dismissive nurse even if he knew he shouldn’t, and realizing he’d left Buck alone while injured. Also, having been yelled at by Maddie after she’d relayed Buck’s condition to her over the phone.

That hadn’t been a fun conversation, but he’d felt a bit vindicated that he’d managed to calm her down. Maddie was never easily calmed when it came to Buck’s safety, and that was especially true after the bombing incident. And she was a force to be reckoned with. So, he’d been a bit irritated with how easily the woman had spoken with Tony, how even Buck had easily bantered with Tony Stark; flirted with him even.

“I know JARVIS can protect him,” he told Eddie even as he stood despite everyone telling him to lay back down. “I’d just feel better knowing someone with a physical body was there to watch over Tony.” He glanced at the suit with a stiff smile, likely because he was in pain; stubborn bastard. “No offense, J.”

‘No offense taken, Mr. Buckley,’ the British voice told him. ‘It would be reassuring to have both of you watching over sir.’

“Are you sure you’ll have enough room at your place?” Bobby asked. “You could all come over to my house. I have plenty of room. Michael has May and Harry over at his place and Athena is on shift.”

Buck didn’t say anything to oppose the idea, since he’d been over plenty of times, especially during his recovery following the two surgeries on his leg. It almost felt like a second home, well third, since Eddie’s house was practically his second home. As for Maddie, she wasn’t too sure. “I don’t know... I mean, as long as J doesn’t have a problem with it.”

‘I’ll just need the address to make sure it’s safe and secure,’ he told Bobby.

The man and JARVIS conversed on the ‘security measures’ that had to be taken. Meanwhile, Maddie helped her brother into a wheelchair despite his protests, while Hen and Chim maneuvered Tony onto a second wheelchair, since it’d be easier to get him into Maddie’s car that way. As for Buck, his Jeep was likely completely totaled since it’d been in the parking lot of the pier when the tsunami hit. So, he would have to ride with his sister.

Eddie asked to come along since he wanted to get Chris home but he didn’t have his vehicle. So, it was a tight fit in the car with Buck, Tony and Chris in the back and Eddie riding shot gun.

“Guess we’re having a big sleepover,” Buck giggled, groaning as it caused him some discomfort. Eddie glanced back at him and almost wished he hadn’t, since Tony was slumped against the taller man, head resting on his shoulder and he hated to admit that they made for a good-looking couple. Buck hadn’t dated since Eddie had known him, since the thing with Abby was finished by the time he came along (despite Buck’s denials), and the thing with that reporter hadn’t been an actual relationship.

Now, he was seeing the man being cozy with another, a man even, and Eddie wasn’t liking it one bit. He just couldn’t (or wouldn’t admit) as to why that was. After all, they were friends, and he convinced himself —not too successfully— that it was because he was used to having all of Buck’s attention, that he didn’t know what to do now that Tony was in the picture.

Apparently, he’d been in the picture longer than Eddie had known Buck.

“I’m not letting you two out of my sight,” Maddie grumbled, looking at her brother through the rear view mirror.

Buck snorted and Eddie bit his lip to keep from saying anything stupid, and that sounded jealous.

Because, nope, he wasn’t jealous at all.-