#Sad guy outlet

[chibigaia-art]

Laptop isn't working anymore so I had to buy a replacement, can't do digital art until the new one arrives here

[joelscruff]

hey yall, figured i should update you guys on the shadowban situation. so tumblr still hasn't gotten back to me and i woke up this morning to discover that i no longer have access to my inbox. i also can no longer reblog things. this is getting genuinely frustrating and i'm still waiting to hear back from support to get it all fixed. until then i most likely won't be posting any fic because from what i gather, no one is getting notifs for me and my works are no longer showing up in the tags. plus because my inbox isn't working i'm not sure if i'm even able to receive messages at all at this point. hopefully everything will go back to normal in the next few days.

[commsroom]

As our resident Eiffel expert, what do you think his childhood was like? As in, do you think there might be some trauma there? (Probably nothing “major”— nothing he’d think of as trauma— but I feel like it probably wasn’t entirely healthy either. Or maybe that’s just projection due to knowing someone veeery similar to Eiffel)

oh! i wrote about some of that in this post.

that line from his backstory doc - "eiffel was extremely hesitant at first, but desperate to become independent from his family and strapped for cash, he finally relented." - and what gabriel urbina said about eiffel being an unsupervised "tv is my parent" kid really defines / reinforces my perception of his childhood. like, mostly i think eiffel's parents just... weren't around. i think he was an only child, and hasn't been in contact with his family for, like, his whole adult life. he's resentful about people always forgetting his birthday in a way that makes sense if he's been holding onto that hurt since childhood. he's so used to being alone - not even being present in his own life - and he's internalized the feeling that he doesn't matter much to anyone. i think it was @books-space-things who said something to me, like, eiffel is so used to being alone, he doesn't realize how lonely he is.

most of his relevant backstory stuff with canon basis is covered in that linked post, so, on the headcanon side of things... he's got that undiagnosed / unmedicated adhd; i'm sure as a kid he was constantly getting the message, like, "i know you can do this, why don't you try harder?" and he didn't know why it was hard for him, so he thought he must just be lazy. i think he really wanted a dog, and either 1) really got his hopes up, but never got one, or 2) had a dog, but came home from school one day to find out his parents gave it away. if his parents were still together, they probably shouldn't have been. needless to say, i don't think he had a happy childhood, but i don't know if he fully recognizes the ways it was unhappy, because more than anything it was just kind of... empty? because his parents' lack of attention meant he got to like, stay up and watch movies all night on a school night, and eat junk food, and go wherever he wanted by himself, whenever he wanted... when he's talking about his childhood, sometimes he mistakes that for freedom. and that kinda ties into his pop culture escapism. but, like, he's probably got a core childhood memory of waiting for one of his parents to take him to / pick him up from something they completely forgot about. pretty much his whole life, i think eiffel's been training himself to expect disappointment.

[gentil-minou]

Hi! Please vote for wangxian in the @ao3topshipsbracket we are losing for a small percentage and it is gonna close in 6 hours

i have!!! but maybe a kind follower will aid us in our time of need!

[hartxstarr-art]

my vision. luvdisc.

[magentagalaxies]

the fact that i haven't run out of things to say about scott thompson is honestly ridiculous but i need to put on my comedy-analysis-hat bc i just listened to another episode of PTSDIVA to cheer myself up and there was a sketch at the beginning of this episode that i'm fucking fascinated by

ok so basically PTSDIVA is a podcast scott thompson did in 2019 exploring various traumas he went through with humor as well as empathy, and each episode starts with a comedic bit related to the topic at hand. this episode (the finale) was about the trauma of being born as a gay man in the time scott grew up in and having to unlearn a lot of the self-loathing that came with that (fun!)

the opening sketch was scott reading the introduction to the episode (introducing the podcast and explaining the topic like he does every episode) except when he gets to the end he tells his producer he wants to retake it because he thinks he "sounded too gay." the producer says he didn't notice anything and lets scott do another take, where he comedically lisps even harder (not doing the buddy voice but same ballpark). he then asks the producer to do it again, the producer says he didn't think it was a problem but sure whatever, scott then goes on to reread it in a completely monotone "straight" voice but then asks for a retake because he was overcompensating. this dynamic goes on until scott goes to record the intro and ends up accidentally just ranting about how his cishet male producer keeps saying his voice sounds fine and how would he know because he never had to deal with being harassed for sounding gay and this is obviously just a trick to take over the podcast for himself etc etc etc. his producer then goes "uh, scott? i think i just accidentally recorded your inner voice instead," but both the producer and scott like this take so they're done for the day

and of course i'm obsessed with this opening sketch bc it is a really great examination of how being seen as an outcast for an inherent part of your identity can lead you to constantly fixating on how obvious these things are about yourself, which must be even more intense for a gay man of scott's generation, and this kind of resentment towards people who can just go through life without having to think about it

but that's not the reason this fascinates me. this fascinates me because it is the literal inverse of a kids in the hall sketch scott did decades earlier

this sketch has scott just existing as a gay man in the 90s and not even being able to walk down the street without immediately being clocked as gay for his appearance and harassed over it. he changes his appearance several times, trying on different supposedly-more-masculine identities that only make him more obvious, before eventually just showing up in a bear costume and mauling the homophobe and calling him a fag in return. this sketch itself is one of my favorites, the fact that it's able to say so much in its simplicity with only one word is so powerful

but it's fascinating to me comparing this with the 2019 revisiting of this concept. the fact that in the kith sketch the homophobia is coming from an external force but in 2019 the homophobia is an internal conflict with a well-meaning straight ally telling him the problem doesn't exist. the fact that the endings are equally surreal and somewhat similar - in one scott wears a bear costume and attacks the homophobe getting his revenge, in the other his "inner voice" is recorded with all its anger and resentment on full display and the producer loves it. i could write a whole essay on just these two sketches on their own (and i guess i just did). scott thompson's comedy speaks to my soul in a way few other comedians can and the fact that he isn't more recognized for it is honestly criminal

[girlscience]

I hate finding a fandom that likes to take a slightly emotional character and makes them cry and have panic attacks constantly in every fic. Least favorite fandom trope ever

[bingo-mama]

crazy that I'm going through the deepest heartbreak of my life and I still have to do regular things like eat and put on deodorant

[plaidpyjamas]

.

[bones4thecats]

hellooo can i request a hades , Poseidon , and Hermes with a Dum Dum orange cat type of reader(female)

How would they handle the reader , and how would they just try to get the reader to not just do anything dumb enough to injure or kill her tyyy

Type of Writing: Request Characters: Hades, Poseidon, and Hermes Name: {Character} with their Dumb-Dumb! Reader Requester: Anonymous

A/N: Honestly, I kinda vibe with this reader. My brain just shuts down whenever I finish a task and I look back going, 'how the hell did I do this?' like five seconds afterwards.

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💀 He was one of the smartest Gods known anywhere, Valhalla and Earth alike. But you, you were known around Valhalla for your 'idiocy', as declared by many

💀 Now, as rude and sad as that may sound, your husband somehow couldn't fully disagree with those claims

💀 Hades would just be working on some paperwork given to him by Zeus when one of his guards would walk in with a tired expression to announce to the God that you had gotten into an accident

💀 And by accident, I mean by you were just walking around and somehow stumbled into multiple different paint cans and got covered head to tow in the multiple colors of paint

💀 Your husband has gone to many measures to make sure you didn't somehow injure, or worse, killed yourself, because of your moments of flat-mindedness

💀 He had gotten some, in other's words, baby-proofing materials installed, including covering electric outlets, since one time you stuck a fork in there for who knows what reason, and a place to keep medications and vitamins out of your reach

💀 Needless to say, one time you saw your daily vitamins on the counter-top and you pushed the bottle over to get more to fall out

💀 And when Hades saw that nearly one fourth of the container was gone, he nearly had a heart-attack because of how much he was overthinking

💀 Whenever someone asks why your vitamins were locked up in a closet with the key being constantly around Hades, he would just answer with

" To keep it plain and simple, my dear S/O had gotten into the old container and nearly gave me a, what humans describe, heart-attack. "

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🔱 He was put off by how, in his words, 'mind-numbingly ignorant' you were when it came to, well, literally anything

🔱 Poseidon is a very serious individual, even among the God's standards, he was very stoic and cold appearing. So, when you have that information and you compare you to him, it's a surprise he hasn't tried killing you yet

🔱 Unlike Hades, he discovered your idiocy quite fast, since he didn't really act, he preferred to watch and observe how people act

🔱 Your husband, like his brother, was normally busy with different things, from making sure his ocean's waves measured well according to schedule, to making sure that the paperwork he had to commission to his oldest brother was done, this guy was on average fairly busy

🔱 Though, whenever he would get a fair amount of time off, he would head off to his S/O and make sure they were okay

🔱 This guy had been dealing with your actions for many years, and in that time you haven't stopped getting a bruise every week, whether it be from hitting your tow or running into an object, he had never gotten a week off from your injuries

🔱 While he may not show it, Poseidon really does care about you, but, unlike his oldest, he protects you in another way

🔱 He doesn't baby-proof his home, he finds that to be dumb. If there is a creature that dumb in the world, they don't deserve life, his words, not mine! Though they do change if you guys have children

🔱 Instead, Poseidon just puts either a couple guards to be by your side to make sure you didn't somehow mess up an entire room just by getting scared by a, in your words, 'flying cucumber', or, he'll have you positioned around him so he could watch over you

🔱 The latter happens more often, though. And whenever you have to be around him, he'll make sure that you have something to mess with, just so you didn't end up destroying something else somehow

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📨 Unlike many beings that you and him have met, Hermes loves how you get into trouble at random, it gives you an aura of mystery and difference, and he likes that

📨 Hermes loves to, when he can, watch you as you just walk around and get into trouble, like that one time where you ended up getting chased around by geese because you fell out of a tree while playing with Heracles and Ares when you were younger

📨 Whenever you would end up getting into trouble with another Deity, your husband would appear out of nowhere and distract the person as you escaped

📨 This guy loves writing songs in devotion of others, take the human fighters from Ragnarok into account, and for you? He has nearly five folders full of songs dedicated to you

📨 One of his favorite memories of you was when he was coming home from work and he stumbled upon two of his father's allies, Shiva, the head of the Hindu Pantheon, and Apollo, the Greek's God of the Sun

📨 The two men ran up to him dounced in a mixture of paint, glue, and a ton of multi-color glitter, and that alerted him that something happened, and it definitely would give him some kind of blackmail

📨 So, when they asked where you were, Hermes just chuckled and pat their shoulders, making sure his gloves didn't get any of the colorful mix on the white fabric, and he told them you were staying with Aphrodite for the night, despite knowing you were at home hiding from the angry duo

📨 When he eventually arrived home, he ushered you out and began to comfort you from your scared faze, which was understandable. And, when he asked if you wanted to see the photos he sneakily took, he chuckled as your eyes lit up

📨 You may be quite danger-prone and not the brightest star in the sky, but, he loved you for that

[robbie-wallis]

I need to vent about Watcher, endure it if you can

Relax, this isn't a parasocial thing, but it is a long ass post, which suits me as a long ass human.

I need an outlet to discuss the terrible business decision Watcher has made by announcing their plan to leave YouTube, and this long-forgotten Tumblr account reached from its grave to grab at my ankle.

If you didn't see their video, good for you. It's extremely cringe-worthy in its sentimentality and editing, with blurry shots, pensive pauses and obligatory sad piano.

But at least there's no f'ing Ukulele.

Although, I think we might get the Ukulele in a few months.

Even though anyone who reads this is probably familiar with what the "Ghoul Boys" have done, I feel as though I need to add a little history.

WATCHER HISTORY

You can skip this part if you've been obsessively following the shenanigans, this is for the noobs who were never a "shaniac" or a "boogara".

Shane Madej and Ryan Bergara used to work at Buzzfeed. They hosted the successful Buzzfeed Unsolved shows. In 2019 they followed in the footsteps of the Try Guys and Safia Nygaaard and left Buzzfeed to create their own YouTube channel named "Watcher".

They brought along Steven Lim, another Buzzfeed person who is most known for the "Worth It" series. This series followed Lim and his friend/s spending obscene amounts of money on obscenely overpriced and indulgent products.

Think of it as being similar to the $100 V's $10,000 Sidemen content, only without the self-awareness and British "bad lads" humor.

Notably, even the Sidemen seem to have cut back on those adventures, perhaps understanding how bad it looks when so many people are struggling to pay their essential bills.

Steven became the CEO of Watcher while Shane and Ryan continued to create and present for the new channel.

They were wildly successful by YouTube standards. At the time of their self-spanking on Friday they were close to achieving 3 million subscribers, in just 4 years, based on basically only 2 cornerstone shows. If Social Blade is still a reasonably trusted source in everything but estimating income, they were gaining thousands of new subscribers every week.

Their most successful shows were Ghost Files, Puppet History, Too Many Spirits and Mystery Files.

Ghost Files is the only one of these shows which requires heavy investment, travel, a large crew and impressive production costs. These videos are shot on-location and require a lot of work. The rest are basically Good Mythical Morning style, just the two hosts and their banter.

Aside from Ghost Files, their content could be created with 3 cameras, 2 lapel mics and a good editor.

They were massively successful, solely because of Ryan and Shane.

THE DEMISE

So, what did they do on Friday 19th April? They decided to announce the launch of their own subscription platform.

Not a Patreon for extra content, behind-the-scenes, audience interaction etc, (they already had a Patreon with 6,000 paying subscribers earning them at least $50k a month), but a bespoke streaming platform which looks like a clone of Netflix.

The cost is $5.99 a month, or $60 a year.

Comparable to Netflix.

And by that I mean the price is comparable to Netflix while the content is comparable to a 4 year old YouTube channel.

Don't get me wrong, their production quality is incredible. The quantity, however, is not.

From the end of May viewers will have to pay to be a subscriber on their own platform in order to watch their shows.

They'll still be posting their trailers on YouTube, and the first episodes of new shows, but to watch it all you'll have to pay up or miss out.

Edited to add: Variety originally reported the Watcher crew were planning to remove all their existing content from YouTube to monetize it on their own platform. It's since been confirmed they will not be removing their old content. Fans are undecided whether this was a back-track after the announcement or a misunderstanding by Variety. You be the judge.

Of course, they're entitled to do this. They are creating a product and you can either enjoy it or not. No one is entitled to see it, for free, whenever they like.

Why did they do this?

Half of the sombre video gushes about their "humble beginnings" as "struggling young guys in a big harsh world", which comes across as extremely self-indulgent and ego-stroking.

A quarter of it explains how insanely successful they've been on YouTube and how this is all thanks to the fans who stuck with them after Buzzfeed, how it's allowed them to hire 25 people, how it's given them the freedom to create what they enjoy making and what the viewers want to see, and - most importantly - how it's allowed them to increase production quality on Ghost Files.

The final quarter of the video explains that this isn't good enough, the quality isn't high enough, the finish not glossy enough, it's not "TV caliber" enough! They want more, they need more, you have to give them more, mostly (apparently) because their CEO Steven Lim wants to bring back his show where he flies around the world with his bestie sipping Champagne and eating gold-leaf-covered lobster.

In short, they want more money to make even bigger things, even though their audience never asked for that.

WHY IT WILL NOT WORK

Oh my goodness, this is going to be a ride so strap in.

I'm not a YouTube creator so there are a lot of things I do not know. Having said that, I know a little about business.

This ain't Buzzfeed, y'all

Watcher became successful because of Ryan and Shane. It was their friendship, their personalities, and the content we loved to watch featuring them at Buzzfeed, that brought us along for the ride.

The audience they poached from Buzzfeed is there for them and Ghost Files. It's not there for Steven Lim and "Worth It". His show worked under the Buzzfeed umbrella only because they had numerous sub-categories in that community to support it.

The Try Guys left and created their own channel from their Buzzfeed fans.

Safia Nygaard left and created her own channel from her Buzzfeed fans.

Shane and Ryan left and created Watcher from their Buzzfeed fans.

Steven Lim left and became the CEO of Watcher. He didn't take his audience with him.

The audience of Watcher is not the audience of "watch me fly around the word with my pal and spend $100K on hand-reared, Whiskey marinaded, diamond-encrusted Kobe steak".

And... IN THIS ECONOMY?

Steven chose to become a CEO instead of a presenter. He's missed the opportunity to take that Buzzfeed audience with him.

This is made clear by the Watcher channel itself. Their "man eats food" content rarely breaks 500K views while their Ghost Files breaks 2 million consistently.

If a million of their viewers followed them from Buzzfeed to Watcher, the other 2 million have joined them since, based almost entirely on their spoopy content.

Not only did they base their channel on this genre and format, they have distilled their audience further ever since the creation of their channel and no matter how hard they try to diversify into "man eats food" it's just not working.

This ain't Netflix, y'all

As mentioned, the $5.99 charge is comparable to Netflix and just about every other streaming platform. Only Watcher can't give you even 5% of what a competing platform can offer for that price.

Other platforms also tailor their content and their pricing based on geographical location and localized economics.

You're paying far less than $5.99 a month if you live in an economy where the median household income is $300 a month. YouTube has a global audience. Their subscribers don't all live in a stable economy where $5.99 is considered disposable income.

We don't know the numbers, but I would guess only 60% of their subscribers are based in the USA, Canada, and the UK.

Even for those who do live in a stable economy, their audience is predominantly young adults and students. Most young adults are currently facing the reality that they will possibly never own their own home, they're living day-to-day trying to budget.

They've instantly priced-out a large % of their audience.

I confidently predict that diehard fans who can't see anything wrong with this will sign up for $5.99 a month, binge watch for a couple of weeks, realize there's no new spoopy content and cancel.

They'll come back when a full season of Ghost Files has arrived, pay again, binge it and leave.

Steven Lim thinks they're gonna get $5.99 a month, every month, from thousands of subscribers. In reality they're going to get maybe $12 a year, from people signing up to binge watch what they want, then leaving.

This will then decline naturally as attention wanes during the months where there is no spoopy.

This ain't good marketing, y'all

They're going to be posting "trailers and season pilots" on YouTube.

Sure, I bet YouTube is gonna be totes okay with a channel doing nothing but trying to hijack traffic for an external site.

Posting nothing but trailers and season premiers will mean maybe one full video per month during busy seasons. That's not enough to remain relevant for the algorithm.

If 80% of those posts are also just trailers saying "leave YouTube and come here", the channel will be smacked down quicker than a crypto scam using an AI generated Elongated Muskrat.

Their channel was growing steadily, but that was with full content regularly posted. When the schedule drops off, and when most of it is considered spammy by YouTube, it's going to collapse like a flan in a cupboard.

A streaming platform needs a constant flow of new subscribers just to replace the gradual drop-off (maybe ask Rooster Teeth about that). When your global audience at YouTube is gone, where are those new subscribers coming from?

The platform is also an additional overhead. It's going to cost thousands a month to keep the servers going.

This ain't good financial management, y'all

I don't know if they've already spent hundreds of thousands of $s on Lim's "men eat food" gamble, but I suspect they have.

I know they have spent hundreds of thousands of $s on a new season of Ghost Files, flying to the UK to host live events while filming those episodes.

This means they've over-extended their finances just at the moment where they've cratered their opportunities to see a return on investment.

Just that, on its own, is enough to destroy a production company.

They do not need 25 employees any more than I need an editor and proof-reader for this long ass post.

They do not need a production studio in Hollywood any more than I needed an office to write this.

They do not need to spend tens of thousands of $s on glossy graphics that appear on screen for maybe 4 seconds in one episode any more than I needed to add screengrabs to this painfully long essay.

By leaving YouTube they've lost:

Adsense revenue (which might not be much on a per-video basis but adds up with a back catalogue over years of productions)

Sponsorship deals, which allegedly contributes almost 50% of their annual revenue.

Merch sales, which is about to crash if the only people they can promote merch to are already paying per month in their smaller ecosystem.

Patreon. Why would someone pay $5.99 twice, for the same or less content?

And they've abandoned all of this for maybe a few thousand people who will probably end up paying just $12 a year when a new spoopy season arrives for them to binge.

I'm no Will Hunting, but no matter how hard I try to make the numbers work they just don't, and I don't need Robin Williams to tell me it's not my fault.

This ain't nice, y'all

Some of you are feeling like Ned's wife right now, and some of you will have no idea what that's in reference to.

Most of you will hate that I made that reference more than you hated the SNL skit.

I get it.

Maybe the worst part about all of his, from a viewer's perspective, is the dismissive nature of their sign-off.

They didn't mention the Patreon members once, not one single time in the whole video. It's like they consider the Patreon "too YouTube". They're the deformed cousin locked in the attic. They're the relative who wasn't invited to the wedding because they can't afford a Tom Ford suit. They're the colleague who isn't invited to the staff night out because they only work in accounting and no one has anything in common with Janice anyway.

These are diehard fans who were actually paying them extra to support them and enjoy a little bonus behind the scenes, and the boys didn't even consider them worthy of an utterance.

They also finished with "If you don't follow us and pay up it's been real, peace out". I'm paraphrasing, but that's basically what it was.

They spent so much of the video saying how awesome and great it was that the fans and YouTube got them to this point, but they didn't thank their Patreon members, and they ended with a blunt suggestion that if you don't follow them and pay more then you're not a real fan anyway and they don't really need you.

"Thanks for getting us here, sucks to be you, bye now!"

You made them wealthy, you helped them hire 25 people, you helped them increase production value to "TV caliber" even though you didn't ask for that, but your job is done and now you're superfluous. Only the real fans are wanted.

In the words of the great George Carlin - "It's a big club, and you ain't in it".

They're okay losing the vast majority of the people who got them here if a few thousand of those are comfortable enough to be able to pay $60 a year for a YouTube channel.

Can it get worse? Sure!

We've had a weekend to enjoy the constant heat of this bonfire and it's predictably worsened with each hour of silence from the company and its employees.

The fact that they haven't back-tracked, despite almost unanimous agreement that this is badder than the baddest thing that could happen to their company, suggests they're okay with it.

Consensus seems to be that they knew it would be this bad, and they're cool. They predicted 90% of people would scream "Boo to you good sirs! Boo indeed!" and they could still survive on the 10% who don't see a problem here.

The lack of response reinforces the narrative that they're totally fine with discarding almost their entire audience if they can just squeeze the cash they need out of whoever is left.

This ain't fixable, y'all (maybe)

Note: I don't want this to be mean, but it's going to sound a little bitchy no matter how I try to say it.

If they'd brought out the Ukulele on Saturday, or even teased Ukulele's on their socials before putting out a video on Sunday, they probably could have survived this with much hand-wringing and a little groveling.

But now I think they've grilled this Kobe steak for far too long.

They've lost 100K subscribers, and counting. The venom among Patreon members is allegedly worse than the public comments section under the video, which is startling. Dozens of YouTubers are torching them harder than a $100 crème brûlée.

People are scraping their channel content in case it's nuked.

Shane "eat the rich" Madej's sentiments over the last few years look disingenuous, to say the least. To shamelessly steal someone else's comment: "Imagine being all 'eat the rich' right before throwing yourself on the plate". He's silent while his McMansion burns down, at his own hands. "Why not!?" indeed.

Steven "I drive a Tesla" Lim's socials now make him look like a tech-bro try-hard and his use of words like "early adopter" and "soft launch" in the video only compound the belief that this was all his brainchild. He is the CEO, and that comes with responsibility and the associated blame. You can't steer the ship into the Bermuda Triangle and then disappear without looking like the bad guy.

Okay, you can disappear, but that convoluted metaphor is a mystery for someone else to solve.

Ryan "TV caliber" Bergara now sounds like an elitist who thinks YouTube is "too pedestrian" for his big plans, not big enough to meet his artistic vision. You see, he's more James Cameron, while YouTube is more like your student film club. He's grown beyond this pesky platform with billions of daily hits offering exponential growth with almost zero financial risk.

Even if they released a video today admitting they messed up big time it's still going to be hard to get the taste of this Ghost Pepper Warhead out of the collective mouth of their viewers.

This hasn't just burned their shared brand, it's singed their individual reputations among an audience upon which their careers rely.

What they should have done, on Saturday, is release a video (Ukulele or no) confessing their error. They should have announced their new platform will instead just be a bigger and better Patreon, with early access to everything, behind-the-scenes content, extra features, audience interaction etc.

They should have reversed to make clear their YouTube channel will stay the priority, their main source of revenue, but that you could get more on their own platform if you want it.

And, maybe, over time, people will pay for that. If they grow their channel to 6 million subscribers in the next 4 years there will be a couple hundred thousand of them willing and able to pay $5.99 a month for 8 years of shows, 8 years of behind the scenes content, 8 years of community involvement and regular early access to new episodes.

Maybe then they could try out their "privileged guys eat expensive food in expensive places" show and see how it does? Maybe a majority of people won't be living on the cusp of poverty by then and it won't look as tone-deaf as a 13 year old YouTuber trying to cover Jeff Buckley's "Hallelujah"? Maybe then they could hire another 50 people and make Bergara's "TV caliber" (I still don't know exactly what that means) game shows and reboots?

The clock has been ticking since they hit that "publish" button on their career ending video, but that clock is about to count down to zero and silence will permeate throughout their previously lively community.

That 1980s basement set needed someone crying in the corner, right?

The problem is, their own platform is not a terrible idea. Really, it's not the worst thing they could do. The badness came in the timing, the switch, the middle finger and the f you. They could have released this as an extra, their own Patreon alternative, waited, developed it over time into something sustainable and established.

They could still try to do that and hope this dark chapter is forgotten.

Maybe I'm wrong? Maybe Lim is a financial genius with more skill than the management of Rooster Teeth and their corporate parent company combined? Maybe this gamble will be wildly successful despite all streaming services down-sizing or just going bankrupt? Maybe they won't be back on YouTube in 3-6 months begging for views after having to lay off 20 of their employees?

I know this... if I were one of those 25 employees blind faith would not be enough to stop me from looking for another job.

I suppose this will, for now, remain... a mystery.

EDIT:

I'm not writing another essay about this, but I'm glad to see they've backtracked and made the right choice to use WatcherTV as any sane creator would - to host early access and exclusive content in addition to their YouTube channel.

Over time, while promoting it in every video, building up that trust and fan base, it can be a secure and long-term financial bonus helping them to expand their business incrementally as finances allow.

Why this wasn't the plan all along is anyone's guess. Gambling everything on this was never the sane decision.

I still think they need to scale back on costs. I still think the food content is not currently a viable source of income while being a serious drain on resources. I still think they need to stop hiring all their friends and they need to hire one person who doesn't have personal relationships with everyone there and can make the tough business decisions.

No one likes firing people, it's ten times worse when it's a friend. But this is a reality of business and just wishing it wasn't so isn't going to make it go away. It would be awesome if we could all run a business where we can hire all our friends and family, never have to rely on any outside funding, make whatever we want, make a great living in one of the most expensive cities in the world and continue to grow.

That's just not the reality.

Their apology was genuine, in my opinion. I just hope they can work out the right financial balance.

[dilatorywriting]

Heroes vs. Villains : Pomefiore

Gender Neutral Reader x Pomefiore vs. Neige Leblanche Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: Woe to the Ramshackle Prefect, being caught up in the drama between the Disney Villains and their respective heroes. Pomefiore Version ie. Wherein Vil tries his very best to correct your abominable wardrobe and you swoop in to kidnap save an unsuspecting gentleman in distress.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3]

“Your wardrobe is atrocious. And I’m not going to be seen with someone who looks like they rolled around on the floor of their closet and put on whatever stuck to them first.”

Firstly, your closet wasn’t big enough to step inside, let alone roll around in. So take that, Mister Metaphor.

Secondly, you didn’t even own enough clothing for that to be an option. Dressing yourself like some kind of confetti monster? Yeah, no. You had three pairs of donated, grey, uniforms and a couple over-large sweatshirts that Jack had kindly donated to you once fall set in. Today it just so happened to be Uniform #2 that was the clean one of the set. So.

All of that being said, from the sounds of things, your Crimes Against Fashion had spurred an emergency shopping trip. A shopping trip spearheaded by the Vil Schoenheit, and very hopefully being funded by his seemingly never-emptying wallet. Also, to be perfectly honest, Ramshackle was cold. And you would very much like some new socks and at least one fuzzy pair of pajama pants to go with Jack’s old crewnecks. Maybe a nice throw blanket. That alone was worth the blow to your dignity.

“Will I survive?” you lamented, as Rook fussed with your sad excuse for an umbrella.

“No,” Epel drawled, entirely unsympathetic. Not that you could blame the guy. An afternoon that the House Warden spent with you was one less hovering over Epel—one less hour stuck in front of a mirror, one less etiquette class that was more punishment than lesson. Perhaps one more secret rack of barbecue ribs snuck in from the Savanaclaw Dorm.

“Mon Coeur, you are going to get soaked,” Rook tutted, finally conceding on trying to fix your shredded nightmare of a parasol. You’d found it in one of the many dusty closets Ramshackle had to offer. One of the ghosts said they recognized it from their time on campus two-hundred years ago.

“Sorry.”

“It is far from your fault!” Rook gasped, and Epel rolled his eyes.

“Why don’t you ask Vil to buy you one?” your purple-haired friend mocked, and you fought the urge to stick your tongue out at him.

“Maybe I will,” you sniffed, indignant.

“More likely he’ll just see it an’ get all upset, and be like, ‘ah! How ugly this darn thing is! Throw it away before my eyes bleed!’” he crooned, dramatic—so caught up in his theatrics that he nearly dropped the little apple carving he was working on.

“Yeah, right. Like Vil would ever be caught dead saying ‘darn,’” you jabbed, and Epel hurled the fruit at your head. Rook caught it gracefully and returned it to the grumpy farm boy with a gentle toss. “But otherwise, spot on.”

“‘Spot on’ about what, precisely? Your collective complete and utter lack of decorum? This is a public space, show some class please.”

And with that scathing remark, Vil Schoenheit had officially entered the scene.

The venomous beauty’s purple eyes traced over you in the way that they always seemed to—picking apart whatever things he deemed worthy of plucking. His gaze landed almost immediately on your near-disintegrated umbrella, and it narrowed with distaste.

“You’re not bringing that with us. In fact, you might as well just toss it with the garbage on the way out.”

You and Epel made painfully long eye contact.

Rook shoved a red-and-white checkered parasol into your hands with an indulgent smile.

The journey to the outlets from there was actually pretty pleasant. Vil’s private car was swanky and smelled like the fancy sort of air fresheners that didn’t prick at your nose with an oversaturation of chemical fruitiness. He rattled off list upon list of ‘essentials’ that was sounding longer and more expensive by the minute. But (as he immediately confirmed upon seeing your mounting horror) this was to be a Schoenheit Expenditure, so you decided to let him enjoy himself and tally up a ridiculous amount of brand name garbage.

The stores had private parking. And that was immediately intimidating.

Vil fixed his ‘normal people disguise’ more firmly in place before walking you through the building with a surprising level of enthusiasm.

“It works a bit differently—” he continued, piling item after item into a cart that was already close to overflowing. “—Most of these products are meant to be customized, but I suppose we can look into that later. Off-The-Rack is not usually my preferred method of browsing, but it will have to do until we’ve bulked out your general wardrobe into something passable.”

He was muttering to himself like a mad scientist—holding swatches to your face, tugging bits of various fabric against your fingers. His efficiency and complete competence in all things was endearing, if not a bit terrifying.

Then, Vil draped a soft, amethyst, scarf around your neck.

“Here,” he said, still mostly buried in the racks. “You can wear this now—for the cold. This color suits you.”

“Really?” you hummed, doing your absolute best not to let your eyes fall to the price tag dangling off the end of it. You failed. “It’d fit you better,” you rambled, trying to take your mind off the triple-goddamn-digits you’d just seen. “It actually matches your eyes kind of perfectly, don’t you think?”

There was a pause then, and for a moment you worried that you’d said something irritating—maybe unintentionally questioning his fashion judgements or blablabla. One thing that you knew for sure was that when the King of Poisons had to stop and ponder on a reply, you’d done fucked up. And were his ears red? Oh no you must have really pissed him off—

“I am trying to focus on turning you into an even marginally acceptable member of society,” he rushed out finally, sounding strained. “So if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Fine, fine,” you sighed. “I’ll go grab us some coffees or something.”

“Don’t wander too far,” he called, sounding distracted. “And no—”

“No caffeine, decaf only. Stimulants will ruin your skin, and digestive tract, and blablabla,” you droned. “I know your drill.”

“That goes for you too, potato,” he tutted, a pleasant warmth coasting over the reprimand.

You waved him off with a grumble and headed out into the main building. It was bright—nearly unpleasantly so—and every surface looked like it was made of a stone so expensive that you probably wouldn’t even be able to pronounce its name.

You wandered around aimlessly for a few minutes, wondering idly if a place this upscale would even have a café kiosk. Surely rich people still drank coffee, but you’d also heard something once upon a time about how ‘to-go cups’ and ‘not savoring the brew’ were some kind of gross social faux pas. You sighed, and as your shoulders slouched you felt a brush of sinfully soft fabric against the back of your arm.  

You froze and reached hesitantly up to your neck. You were still wearing the purple scarf. You pinched at the ridiculously expensive cashmere with wide eyes. Did this make you a thief? I mean, no one had bothered to stop you or anything. Did these sorts of stores have different rules? Like an honesty policy maybe? And you technically hadn’t even left the building yet! So maybe—

WHAM!

“Ah! I’m so sorry! I just—I have to—!”

You were ripped out of your morality spiral by a sound like a storm, and you looked up past your assailant to see a herd of people stampeding in your direction. Immediately, your I-was-shopping-with-an-internationally-recognizable-superstar instinct kicked in, and you bodily hauled yourself and whatever poor sap who had nearly mowed you down into the nearest store and then into one of the changing rooms beyond that.

The tempest that followed was a roar of cacophonous noise, but thankfully brief. Only a few people ducked into the store you’d taken refuge in, and none of those ventured very close to your hiding place. You breathed out a sigh of relief. It sounded weirdly muffled behind the changing room’s thick, velvety, curtains.

“Th-Thank you for that,” stuttered whoever you’d just kidnapped.

“Don’t worry about it,” you shrugged, and turned to get a better look at your new partner in crime. Immediately you froze, an odd sense of recognition working through you. “Uhm—Are you Neige? Neige Le Blanc?”

“Leblanche,” he corrected gently, and then winced. Like he’d only just realized that maybe outing himself after being nearly accosted by a mob was not the best idea.

“Oh. Alright,” you said, dazed.

This was Vil’s arch nemesis? He reminded you a little of a cocker spaniel—with big, wide, heavy-lashed eyes and soft, dark, curls framing his perfectly petite face. Sure, he was lovely. And maybe you were a little biased here, but this guy—this, this walking cherub—was standing in the way of Vil’s absolute, tyrannical, reign over all things sexy? Sure, he was adorable enough. But most beautiful of them all? Come on.

“U-Uhm…” Neige stuttered, nervously clasping his fingers. “Do you… Want an autograph or something? As a thank you?”

“What?” you blinked, allowing yourself to be pulled back into the very surreal situation unfolding around you. “Oh. No thanks. I don’t want to be massacred.”

He gasped. “I know that they may not have left the best first impression just now, but I promise that my fans would never do that!”

It wasn’t his fans you were worried about. Vil’s high heels looked sharp enough to gut a man, and you did not want to be the first test subject for that hypothesis.

“Don’t worry about it,” you shrugged.

“…I might have to camp out in here for a while,” he mumbled after a quiet moment, morose.

“Probably,” you sighed, sympathetic. “Sorry.”

“You, uhm, you don’t mind keeping this a secret, do you?” Neige smiled, wobbly.

“I’m not going to turn you over to your ravenous fangirls,” you reassured. Because sure, the mean-spiritedness of the residents of Night Raven College may have been rubbing off on you, but you had yet to become that heartless.  

“Thank you,” he relaxed, genuine appreciation warming his dark eyes. And then he aimed that kilowatt, darling-of-the-world, smile in your direction and fired. “You’re my hero.”

For a moment you were honestly, thoroughly, dazzled. It was like you could hear songbirds and heavenly choirs singing all around you—filling the dark space with sparkles and warmth that danced merrily across your skin like the soft fizz in a soda pop.

But then, like a sign from God, your phone buzzed angrily in your pocket and you glanced down quick enough to catch a bright V.S. flash across the screen.

Oh shit.

You turned, ready to make a bolt for it and leave your companion stranded, when something atrocious caught your eye.

“Is that a sweater vest,” you gaped, poking at the stitched material poking out from beneath Neige’s RSA blazer. “With squirrels on it.”

“U-Uhm. Yes?” he squeaked, cheeks dusted pink.

How in the fuck does Vil think he’s less fuckable than this guy, what the fuck.

“I-I’m sorry, but did you just say—"

You hurriedly pulled the (stolen?) scarf from your neck and shoved it pointedly over Neige’s mouth, before wrapping it securely around the rest of his head. Your phone was buzzing again—longer and sharper this time. Like a certain someone was spamming you with indignant, ‘how dare you abandon my magnificent ass,’ essays.

“So that hopefully no one will recognize you,” you (lied) explained cheerfully, and tightened the makeshift gag. Now he could be the accidental thief. Neige gurgled his thanks into the fabric, or at least, you assumed that’s what he was spluttered out. It was hard to tell past the, you know, gag.

You peaked out beyond the curtains and observed the empty storefront like a proper super spy. All clear. Thank God.

You swiveled back and thumped Neige Leblanche on the shoulder with what was perhaps a bit more force than necessary, seeing as his knees had started to shake. He swayed in place, an odd shade of pink creeping past the barrier of the scarf and nearly all the way to his hairline. Hopefully he wasn’t about to faint or something—you really didn’t have time for that.

“Good luck,” you told him emphatically, before darting out of your hiding space and back into the horrible fluorescent nightmare before you.

“Wait!” you heard him call. “I didn’t even get your name—"

But at this point, your phone had graduated from spurts of rage to outright howling in indignation, so you didn’t have much choice but to keep on running. You pressed down on the green ‘accept call’ button with all the enthusiasm of a soldier being sent off to the front lines.

“What?”

“Don’t you take that tone of voice with me,” Vil hissed, doing an impressive job of keeping his voice low and level while simultaneously sounding ready to tear your ass to pieces. “Where are you?”

“I got lost looking for coffee with no caffeine. You know. The best part of the coffee,” you admitted. Sort of.

“You got lost?” he sounded incredulous. “In a single-story shopping center? With maps at every corner?”

“There were a lot of people,” you defended.

He sighed, clearly put upon, and you had the distinct impression that he was pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just meet me back at the side entrance. We should leave—it’s starting to get crowded and I don’t want to deal with the stampede when I’m inevitably recognized.”

“Of course,” you agreed easily, and made your way up to one of these supposed ‘maps at every corner.’ And oh. It was actually… very well drawn and very helpful. Fuck you, huh? “Did you get everything you needed?”

“I got everything you needed,” he corrected. “And we will be trying every single item on when we return to campus.”

You whined, and man, oh man. You didn’t think it was possible to smack someone upside the head through a phone, but somehow Vil made it work.

It didn’t take long from there to find the exits, and just in the nick of time too it would seem! As a steady stream of eager ‘shoppers’ began to flood into the building—most of them twittering about ‘did you catch a photo’ or ‘I heard someone saw him around that one store!’ Vil watched them through the tinted lenses of his glasses, lips pursed.

You were just about to step back into the car and out of the chilly rain when an eruption of screaming broke out somewhere in the near-distance. You immediately braced for impact, but when you were not immediately trampled into a pile of gelatinous goop beneath the thundering feet of hundreds of fanatics, you chanced a glance upwards.

Neige Leblanche was being herded out of the main entrance by a troupe of security guards, each one holding a different black umbrella over his head. It created a shadowed canopy that, despite the rain and gloom, somehow managed not to dull the radiance oozing off him and his perfect-perfectness. The fair beauty rubbed awkwardly at the back of his head, as if perplexed by the swarm of people ducking in and out like a pack of dogs circling a big, juicy, steak. Nevertheless, he waved to each and every fan—smiling demurely and sweetly as he went.

“We should go while they’re distracted,” you whispered, tugging at Vil’s arm. “And in case the swooning is contagious.”

He didn’t move. There was an odd sort of look on his face, one that usually preceded some of the most brutally cutting insults you’d ever heard.

You turned back to the growing mob, curious about what could have possibly snagged his attention—and ire—so completely.

Wrapped artfully around Neige’s neck, and flapping neatly alongside the chilly autumn breeze, was your purple scarf.

The dainty actor lifted the soft fabric to his lips, burrowing his chin into it not unlike how some adorable little round-cheeked bunny might photogenically cuddle into a—a cloud. Or a pillow of cotton candy. Or something else equally as cute and ridiculous. Neige’s cheeks bloomed a fetching shade of pink and his wide, brown, eyes glittered from over the folds of cashmere. His audience squealed.

“Well, at least it’s not you they’re mauling this time,” you hummed, shooting Vil another hesitant glance. That sour expression had twisted into a familiar and awful icy sneer that you hadn’t seen him dawn in a very long time. “Vil?” You called. “Are you alright?”

“Hmm?” he blinked, seeming to come back to himself. That frigid snarl was washed away by a mask of complete stoicism, and honestly, you weren’t sure which was worse. “Oh. Yes. Of course. Shall we?”

The hand he offered to help you climb over the many boxes of clothes and into the backseat was stiff, tight. It clapped around your wrist like a pair of manacles, and he didn’t let go until you were out of the parking lot, past the backroads, beyond the gates of Night Raven, and all the way back into the lavish halls of Pomefiore. 

[bryngmemoney]

✁FASHION FLIRT✃

Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

⭑story masterlist link

tw: none

Writing in between messages!!

🪡Chapter Thirteen: Iron

“I hope this one lasts us longer than the last one,” Maki spoke as she untangled the cord of the new clothing iron you guys had bought. “Well, to be fair the last one cost us 15 dollars with tax.” Maki plugged it into the outlet, clicking a button at the top of the handle to set it on the right type of fabric she needed. “Yeah, well this one doubled in price, so it better work.”

Maki was currently in a desperate situation of trying to get Kirara’s outfit done. Her model had informed her that they were taking a two week trip for one of their programs. This wasn’t a problem as it didn’t conflict with the date of the show, but it did mean that Maki needed to hurry to try and get the outfit done. In the case that if anything wasn’t working she would still have time to make adjustments to it while her model was gone, and it would be ready by the time they came back. Maki was close to finishing up, the last thing left to do was to iron on patches she had designed on to the pants. The only problem was that today was Sunday, and the studio room was not open. There was a solution though, and that was doing the ironing on her own.

“It’s not turning on, pass me the instructions I might be doing this wrong.”

“The instructions came on the box, here let me see it.”

Maki held her hand a distance from the surface of the iron, “It’s lighting up but its not heating up, look.”

“That’s weird,” You took a hold of the machine, copying Maki’s movements. You moved a finger to place on the heating part, “Yeah, its not I wonder- ow!” It wasn’t the smartest move, but just your luck that the moment you decided to touch the surface, it had decided to finally start heating up. Your reflex was to hold your injured hand with the other, but that also meant letting go of the iron, and watching if fall on the ground, breaking.

“Shit.”

“Are you kidding me Y/n?”

“You broke the last one! This just makes us even.”

“What else did Yuji say was on the list?”

“Uh, yeah that.”

“Pay attention! Are we missing anything else?”

You looked up from your phone, seeing Maki leaning towards you at the end of the shopping cart. The cart itself was barely full, considering there was a max of 8 things on the ‘grocery list’ Yuji had sent you guys. He had already let you guys know he’d pay you back once you’d get there, but you were surprised by a reassurance text you got from Megumi saying that he would make Yuji give you and Maki any money you guys had spent at the store.

The conversation had gradually changed course from that and now he was just sending you pictures of his dogs saying that he’d introduce you to them once you guys arrived.

Your elbows leaning on the handle of the cart, you switched over to the list saved in your camera roll, and took a look at everything inside the cart.

“Yeah that looks good, I think we got everything.”

The cart began to move forward. Maki dragging it as you (barely) pushed it forward. “Who were you texting anyway?”

“I think you can guess.”

“Forget I asked.”

Author’s Note: iron incident based on a true story (i exaggerated it for story purposes mine didn’t actually break)

i’ve never typed the word iron sm before it doesn’t look real atp

anyways Megumi’s dogs mentioned again ����

hope you guys enjoyed!

Taglist below, feel free to comment or dm me to be added!!

TAGLIST

@iridescentrays @gumimegz @maya-maya-56 @mamafly @lunavixia @swissy23 @coltsgf @m00nglad3-mp3 @etsukis @xosren @qtnfer @oengleli @harek89 @y-sabell-a @morgyyyyyyy @getolvr @liliumaraneae @k3lbade @aiieera @dancedancey @get0sfav @chuyasthighs0 @hyssoplampflickers @kpopanimen @sad-darksoul @vivi-loves-penguins @kasumitenbaz @talkingsperm @nymphsdomain @inlovewithlondonn @rzcnlb @enchantingkitty @fuyuzemi @lysaray @ni-ki-ismyluv @reneny @frumira @mixzimi @miralunaela @dreamxiing @p3achiee

[fandom-chic]

Please Please Please: Chapter 4

Summary: Y/N is only a child when she and Tommy Shelby meet. The two quickly become best friends as they grow up in Small Heath. As the years go by, Y/N and Tommy realize there may be more to their friendship than they originally thought.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Y/N

A/N: Hello everybody! Hope you enjoy this chapter. Love seeing all the comments, they make my heart smile. You guys rock my socks <3

Previous chapter

James and Y/N drove in silence through the streets of Small Heath. It was a silence that hung in the air like the end of a bad joke, except no one forced a polite smile, especially Y/N. All she wanted to do was curl in a ball on her bed and hope for sleep to take her away from Tommy. It seemed to be the only time she could truly escape from his grasp on her. It was when she saw the outline of The Garrison did she realize she had another outlet to forget about Thomas Shelby.

“Let me out here,” she said, not bothering to glance at her date. She felt the car slow to a stop and she hopped out. It was then that she spared a glance at James. There was a pitiful air to him, one that told her this was the last time she would see him.

“Get home safe.” Was all he said, before pulling her door shut and driving off. She watched the automobile disappear into the darkness. She would get home how she got home at this point, all she knew at this moment was she needed a glass of whiskey in her hand. She walked through the front door of The Garrison and was surprised to see it almost empty, except for a few patrons and one familiar figure.

“Look who the hell decided to show up.” she teased, a smile musing upon her lips. Arthur turned to face her, a goofy smirk on his face.

“If it ain’t Y/N,” he got up from his spot at the bar, approaching the younger woman and enveloping her in a hug. “How are you, love?”

“I’m alright,” Was all she was willing to disclose to him. He didn’t dig deeper as he ushered her toward the bar. 

“And what will the lady be drinking tonight,” he asked, motioning for the bartender to approach.

“The strongest whiskey you have,” she replied, eliciting an eyebrow raise from the bartender. He could sense her present level of intoxication, but he didn’t question it. He poured her a glass, nodded toward Arthur, and began to clean the bar. She took a large swig, letting the amber liquid slide down her throat. It burned going down but the buzz that was there afterwards made up for it. 

“I never took you for a whiskey girl,” Arthur said, taking another sip of his own.

“I guess it’s one of those nights,” she said, preparing herself to guzzle down the rest.

“So, who’s the bastard who broke your heart this time?” She smirked to herself, knowing Arthur had seen this show before. He was well acquainted with the bad luck that seemed to revolve around her love life. During her years of friendship with Tommy, Arthur would be pulled into the teenage drama that revolved around the duo. He pretended to be annoyed by all the chaos and gossip that accompanied the teens, but she could tell he enjoyed hearing about their lives.

She waved down the bartender, asking for another drink before responding, “Your fucking brother.” 

A sigh escaped Arthur’s lips, “What’d the fucker do this time?” he asked. She shook her head to herself as the bartender poured her second drink of the last few minutes.

“He told me he didn’t want to see me anymore,” She took a sip, “He said our friendship didn’t make sense. What the hell does that even mean? It doesn’t have to make sense! It’s not a bloody algebra problem! It’s such bullshit.” She could feel the steam coming out of her ears.

“What a bastard,” Arthur said wistfully, as if there were words between the spaces of that sentence that needed to be said. 

“A bastard indeed,” Was her response. She stared straight ahead as Arthur turned to face the younger woman.

“Tommy will kill me if I told you this but,” he gestured to Y/N, “I can’t see you looking that sad. It breaks me heart.” A stifled chuckle escaped her lips, bringing the cup up to her mouth to take another long sip. Everything inside her tried not to look at Arthur because she knew the second she looked into his eyes, she would break. 

“What is it?” she asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer. 

A long exhale escaped her friend as he responded, “He misses you like hell, kid.” She impulsively turned toward the man beside her.

“He sure has a shitty way of showing it,” she said, a quiver in her voice. 

“Since whatever happened that day on the lake, he hasn’t been himself,” Arthur said, taking a swig of his drink, “He’s been more solemn than he already is and that’s saying a lot. Usually, you’re the one to make him less depressed” A bitter laugh erupted from her as she tried not to roll her eyes.

“So, he didn’t say that he missed me, you just think there’s the possibility that he might miss me.” She watched the way the ice settled in her drink, wishing she could sink.

Arthur shook his head to himself, knowing that he would not convince Y/N, “I know my brother, Y/N. Something went out in him after that day. The only thing I think it could be is you.” 

“Well,” she said, putting her drink down on the bar, “if he truly missed me, wouldn’t he have said something rather than push me away?” Arthur cocked an eyebrow at Y/N as she relayed the events of that night. 

Arthur finished off his drink before responding, “Tommy is who he is, and whatever is up his ass might just need a bit more time. You know as well as I do how he can be.”

“We’ve never fought for this long, Arthur,” she gazed away from him toward the bottles of liquor behind the bar, “Even as children when he hit me with the baseball, he was at my door within minutes to apologize.” If a child can see the difference between right and wrong that quickly, she could only imagine what an adult would do in that exact situation. To her surprise, she heard a light chuckle leave Arthur’s lips.

“Did he never tell you what actually happened that day?” Arthur questioned. Y/N looked toward him, tilting her head in confusion. “I guess he didn’t. Might as well tell you.” He brushed a hand through his hair before continuing, “That day, he wasn’t going to apologize.” This made her sit up straighter.

“What?” she asked, her whole friendship with Tommy rushing before her eyes. 

Arthur smirked and nodded, “He was ready to let you go, that’s how he has always been with everyone. Then I asked him if he was really willing to let you go over a stupid baseball game. I don’t know what it was about that but something clicked and he ran after you. That night when he came back home and I asked how the apology went,” Arthur paused, looking at Y/N, “he smiled and said ‘I think I met my best friend,’” Y/N could feel her heart soften at the end of that story. She knew she felt that way that day but she didn’t know Tommy felt the same. She felt a tear come into her eye and a finger go up to her eye to wipe it away.

“Why are you telling me this story?” she questioned.

“Sometimes, Tommy needs some convincing to realize he is making a shit decision,” Arthur motioned to the bartender to top off his drink, “And I just don’t think anyone has called him on this shit yet. I’d say you will have Tommy back soon.” Arthur’s words along with the alcohol softened Y/N.

“You really think so?” It felt like a plea coming from her lips.

Arthur nodded, “He needs you as much as you need him.” Y/N was ready to hug the older man when she noticed something, the music on the phonograph slowed to a tune she could recall from anywhere. It was The Girl With The Flaxen Hair by Claude Debussy, one of her favorite songs. Arthur saw the change in her expression and smiled at her.

“Care to dance?” he asked, holding a hand out to her. She looked around the room but the bar seemed empty except for the stray patron or two. Perfect.

“I would love to,” she responded as Arthur led her to the center of The Garrison. Her left hand goes into his and her right hand falls onto his shoulder. His left hand gives hers a squeeze and his right hand falls onto her back. She couldn’t help but smile at the man before her. He was the brother she always dreamed of having, tough but loving. She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder as the song went on. For the first time in a long time, she was at peace, but that was only momentary. She felt Arthur stiffen as the song came to an end. She looked up at him to see him staring at the entryway. She followed his gaze to see a man she did not expect to see tonight.

“You two look to be having a good time.” Tommy’s voice felt like a dagger, punctuated by the exhale of a cigarette in her direction. Arthur immediately detached himself from Y/N, taking a step away as well. Y/N looked over at Arthur, her eyes pleading for him to say something, anything to make this situation less terrible.

“I’ll give you two some privacy.” That was the last thing she wanted him to say. Before she could interject, Arthur had already made his way into the back of the bar. 

Tommy turned to the remaining patrons, “Out. Now.” As if his words were a spell, they followed what he said. Now, they were truly alone. He takes his jacket and hat off, placing them on a table before asking, “What are you doing here?” 

She shrugged her shoulders, “It’s a bar and I wanted a drink.” 

Tommy let out a sigh, bringing his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose and rubbing it, “You know this is my bar.” 

She gave him a sarcastic smirk, “I didn’t think you would be coming here tonight, your date seemed like a pretty sure thing.” At that, Tommy approached the bar, opening up the side door to go behind it. He began to pour himself a drink.

“I can at least say I tried.” He mumbled to himself.

“Tried what?” Y/N asked. 

“To make you leave.” He puts the bottle down. “Seems I can’t get rid of you.” He throws back the drink.

“Tommy,” she said, approaching the bar, “Why do you want me to leave? Did it ever occur to you that I don’t want to go away?” Tommy didn’t meet her gaze, as he poured another drink.

“I want you to be safe, Y/N.” He put the bottle back on the counter, “You know the way that my life is going, that won’t be possible anymore.” 

The alcohol went around her shoulders like a blanket, giving her the confidence to say, “That’s so stupid, Tommy.” A real smile and laugh came out of Tommy. One that she had not seen in six months.

“Now that is not how I expected this conversation to go.” He took another drag of his cigarette, “In all the ways I thought of this talk going, I did not imagine you calling me stupid.” 

She giggled to herself, taking a seat on the barstool, “So, you knew we would speak again.” 

He leaned against the bar, his face inches from hers, “I told you, I can’t seem to get rid of you and you can’t seem to get rid of me. Maybe that’s just how life is supposed to be, you and me.” Her thoughts began to swim. She wasn’t sure if it was the booze or the fact that Tommy smelled like whiskey and soap. All she knew was that she didn’t want to move away from him. She only moved when the next song came on, one that she remembered well. The movement was a chuckle that turned into a laugh as Tommy followed suit. 

“You remember this song?” She asked, motioning toward the phonograph. 

He smirked and nodded, “How could I forget?” 

The first time that Y/N heard this song was a moment that replayed in her head from time to time. It was a hot August day. She was 16 and Tommy was 17. There was nothing to do that day but lay on the floor of Tommy’s room and listen to music. They stayed side by side for hours as track after track played. Finally, a track with provocative lyrics rose from the phonograph, causing Y/N to giggle and blush. Tommy looked over at her and smirked.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing!” she said, shaking her head as if she was trying to shake the blush off her cheeks. 

Tommy nudged her shoulder, “Come on, tell me.” 

She paused before answering, “I don’t know, the words are just so… raunchy.” The blush came back onto her lips as Tommy let out a belly laugh.

“What? Have you never had a shag?” This caused Y/N to burst out in laughter.

“I haven’t even had my first kiss, let alone slept with a man.” She expected Tommy to laugh along with her but when she looked over at him, he was already sat up, looking down at her. 

“Really?” There was a hint of disbelief in his voice.

She sat up and faced him, “Really,” Y/N said. She shrugged to herself, continuing, “I just don’t think anyone wants me in that way.” There was a long pause as Y/N expected Tommy to say something sarcastic but all he did was stare. Y/N matched his gaze. 

He then took his best friend's hand, “Don’t say that,” and continued to stare. He took a deep breath before saying, “If you’d like, I can kiss you.” Y/N didn’t know how to respond, all she could do was gaze into her best friend’s eyes. Neither teen knew what to do except let their faces grow closer together. His breath graced her lips, so close. Then the song changed, and so did her mind. 

“No, Tommy,” She backed away. “Not like this.” He backed away.

“I understand.” He said with a nod.

“I want it to be with someone I love who loves me back.” 

Y/N felt her mind come back to 1913 as she giggled to herself,  “Fuck that is what you said!” Tommy said as he took a large sip from his drink. 

She shrugged, “I was harsh, it might be why I didn’t have my first kiss for another year.” 

“I remember that,” Tommy said, sitting beside her at the bar, “George Milton, right?” 

She nodded, “By the bridge. He bit my lip and it bled.” Tommy let out a snicker. A comfortable silence fell over the two old friends. Tommy was the first to break it.

“So, why did you say no.” She looked up into his blue eyes to see a sense of curiosity there.

“I told you, my sixteen year old self wanted it to be with someone she loved,” Y/N took a sip of her whiskey before continuing, “She wanted magic and delusion. Still haven’t found that yet.” James crossed her mind for a fleeting second and left as quickly as he came. Tommy’s gaze did not leave hers, watching how the words stayed in her mind. Then the song changed again. The tune was a waltz, one that made a smile come onto Y/N's face. 

Tommy held out his hand, “Arthur can’t be the only one dancing with you tonight.” Y/N gave Tommy her hand as he led her out to where she and Arthur danced earlier. Their hands found their homes on each other's bodies easily as the couple began to sway to the tune. Y/N looked up into Tommy’s blue eyes and he gazed down into hers. His hand relaxed on the small of her back, sliding down and pulling her closer. She laid her head on his chest feeling his heartbeat against her cheek. She moved her arm behind him, holding him tight. The pair swayed as Tommy laid his head on top of hers. 

“Y/N?” She moved her head off his chest to look up at him, “You’re not delusional. You just want what you deserve.” That was when she felt her lips begin to grace his. As soon as they touched, Tommy backed away. 

The pair stopped and pulled apart.

“I have to go,” Tommy said. Before Y/N could question him, he was out the door.

Next chapter

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[meglosthegreat]

I recently recced someone Dishonored, and in doing so realized that the reasons I love the series and the reasons game reviewers and media outlets loved the series are actually very different. So whatever you've heard about it being an inventive and mechanically intricate immersive sim, here's why you should actually play these games:

Corvo, the depressed dad who is also a rampant kleptomaniac who does a little bit (or a lot) of murder but it's ok because it's not as much murder as the ones he's murdering

Daud, the depressed ace/aro king who does one little war crime that everyone won't shut up about and is then sad for the rest of the series

Emily, the depressed empress who was actually pretty bad at ruling and needed to go murder a few people (or a lot) in order to get better at it

Billie, the depressed criminal who somehow ends up being a video game protagonist as a 40+ year-old black lesbian woman and is perpetually done with everyone's shit

The Outsider, the depressed god who is constantly soaking wet and torments people by giving them the power to do war crimes while also gleefully watching them slowly go insane

And that's just the major players! You also get as a bonus, in no particular order: deep worldbuilding, immaculate aesthetics, comically evil fucked up little guys, comically tragic fucked up little guys, talking rats, time travel shenanigans, slapstick comedy, and as much poetic justice as your twisted little heart desires.

[hazelsmirrorball]

Spiderman’s Biggest Fan |  Jaime Reyes part 5 

summary:  Jaime Reyes is the biggest spiderman fan. His girlfriend on the other hand is Spiderman's biggest hater. 

pairings: Jaime Reyes x Spiderman! FemReader 

a/n:  Last part! Hope you guys enjoyed this little series. Thank you for all the support 

warning: English isn’t my main language. Angsty and kinda sad. Graphic Fights.  Scenes taken out of No Way Home.  Not edited

[MASTERLIST]

part one. part two  part three. part four.

Two months. 

Two months after the unknown disappearance of Spiderman. The news outlets covered the lovable Spiderman and the mystery of his disappearance. Death? Retirement? Kidnaped? Everyone had their conclusions of what had happened to Spiderman in the last two months. He was nowhere to be seen, not a trace or spiderweb left behind. People were worried that Spiderman was dead, that he was killed and since no one knew his identity that they would never know what really happened to him. The Justice League had yet to say anything about the spider, making them not lose faith completely. People were desperate to see him, he represented hope for Palmera and without him Palmera was crumbling down. They needed their hope, they needed a hero, they needed Spiderman. 

Jaime Reyes needed Spiderman, he was going through the worst two months of his life. With his dad and Marisol gone, the house still in repair and him managing to balance his superhero life with his regular life was hard. He was kept on his toes barely being able to survive his day to day thanking God that his family was still around.  He was still attempting to cope with the fact that Y/n was not in his life anymore, he hadn’t heard a single thing from her which made him worry. He never felt as bad as he did right now. There was also one thing that could help him, but that was also a lost cause. 

Spiderman managed to disappear and Jaime waited patiently for his arrival knowing deep down that he couldn’t be dead, he knew he just wanted to make a big comeback after everything that was going on with Green Goblin. He knew that Spiderman wanted the villains to fear him to keep Palmera safe. But after waiting Jaime decided to take matters into his own hands. He was aware that he would never be able to fill his shoes but Palmera needed a hero and for now that hero was going to be Blue Beetle. 

The citizens of Palmera city weren’t far from the reality, Spiderman was dead, at least to Y/n.  She couldn’t live the double life anymore, she needed to do one more thing before Spiderman was left in the past. It was her last wish because with great power comes great responsibility. All she needed was two months, two months to get her things straight. Two months or hard work and investigation. It had been two months since the downfall of Y/n L/n life. No more work, no more grad school,no more relationships, no more regular adult life.

 It shouldn’t surprise her, Y/n was never intended to have a regular and normal life and she was aware of that. Y/n was getting what she deserved, being alone. She had lost herself and the last bits of things that brought her happiness. But she was also human, she could feel herself as the days passed slip into a deeper depression. 

But Y/n had one thing in mind, killing the Green Goblin. Y/n was going to make him suffer, he was going to die in her arms and she was going to enjoy every single minute of it. If that was going to be the last thing she did on this earth, she was going to love getting vengeance on every single person that he had killed. That was her responsibility. 

Whatever Green Goblin had against her was between Spiderman and Green Goblin, there was no need to bring Aunt Marisol in the mix. But if Green Goblin wanted to play dirty, Y/n was ready to win the war. No one was going to ruin that for her, she was going to end Green Goblin and with Green Goblin dying will finally be the end of her time as Spiderman. 

So Y/n went to work, day and night, without a day to rest. She may be MIA but she has been working every single day. She worked on her suit, making it as indestructible as possible. If she wanted to play  Goblins games she needed to have the upperhand. She needed to do her research. 

Y/n had left whatever she had with the Justice League, she couldn’t do the things she wanted under her wing. But before she left, she made it her mission to find the details on Green Goblin, which she succeeded with ease. That was the beginning of her two month plan. 

Doctor Norman Virgil Osborn. 

Norman Osborn was the founder and CEO of Oscorp down in Palmera which specialized in military research.  He had also worked with fellow scientists, Otto Octavius, Doc Ock. He had created a powerful yet unsuitable performance enhancer, that was intended to enhance strengths to individuals but as he tried it on himself his superhuman levels increased giving him Artificially enhanced physiology, superhuman durability, reflexes, regenerative healing factor, speed, stamina. Agility and strength. But everything has its consequences making him develop a dissociative identity disorder, that’s when the chaotically sadistic psychopath Green Goblin was born.  His skill sets include a genius level of intelligence making him a master engineer, businessman and scientist. Physically, he is an expert combatant ,marksman, pilot and knife. His main weapons include Razor bats and those damn Pumpkin bombs. 

The damn pumpkin bombs that had killed innocent people daily, the bomb that had killed  Marisol in the process. She wanted to make him suffer, like all the people that suffered under his hands. So she went to work analyzing the composure of the pumpkin bombs thanking herself for having a degree in science. It hadn't taken her that long to make a better spider bomb of her own. But she couldn’t end him that quickly, he had to suffer so with the help of the bomb she would be able to beat him to death. That was the plan. 

But there was one problem, Green Goblin was nowhere to be found. Criminals had managed to settle down which irked Y/n a little bit. Now that Blue Beetle had decided to show up to “save the day” after being MIA for God knows how long. He had things easy which pissed her off. The help of Kord Industries and the love of the public was on the blue beetle side. So if she wanted to get to Green Goblin she had to get through Blue Beetle. 

Green Goblin likes new blood, he always searched for that. Blue Beetle was new blood and a new challenge for him. So Y/n waited patiently for him to lurk out of the shadows to mess with Blue Beetle. Once he was out, he was all for Y/n. No one was getting in her way, not even Blue Beetle. 

Y/n  had managed to hack years ago the intercoms from the Palmera City Police department just to have an upper hand on the crimes surrounding the city. But now she waited patiently for Blue Beetle and Green Goblin  to make an appearance, so that her plan could finally conclude itself. 

But there was something that was getting in between both Spiderman and Blue Beetle's plans, both of them having the same thing in common, Milagro Reyes. 

Milagro was a smart girl. She was aware of both Blue Beetles and Spider Man's secret identity, one of them being his lovely brother and the other being his now ex girlfriend. It didn’t surprise Milagro that Spiderman was missing since Y/n was also off the grid. Both of them were suffering in different ways and she knew that they needed each other now more than ever. So Milagro did what she does best, meddling in their relationship, taking  matters in her own hands. 

So that’s how she found herself standing on top of the tallest building in Palmera City waiting for Green Goblin to show up at any moment. In retrospect, she knew this was the stupidest idea she had ever come up with, but she also knew that this was easier than calling Y/n and Jaime and attempting to get them in the same room. They weren’t on speaking terms so right now putting herself in the battle field was the best option. Milagro was also aware that Green Goblin could kill her with ease, he wasn’t like the other villains she had faced with Jaime. He was more than dangerous and the fact that she had gotten there without anything to protect herself made her chances to stay alive quite slim.But Milagro  had faith that putting herself in the front lines would make both Spiderman and Blue Beetle appear, or at least she hoped. 

The cold breeze hit Milagros' body, making her hug herself to warm herself up. She had been standing there for about half an hour and quite frankly her plan was failing miserably. Nor Blue Beetle, Spiderman or Green Goblin had shown up which made her lose a little faith in her plan. Why would he even show up in the first place? 

“What the hell do you think you're doing, Milagro?” Y/n whispered yelled at her as she looked at the shaking girl, pulling her mask off. Y/n eyes glared at Milagro as she headed towards her inspecting her body searching for any bruises of some sort. After noticing that nothing was wrong with her, Y/n hit the back of her head softly making Milagro gasp dramatically as she rubbed her head. 

“What the hell was that for? Are you trying to kill me” Milagro replied dramatically as she glared back at the girl in front of her. Y/n looked completely different in her eyes, the girl that was once filled with joy and hope reeked of darkness and vengeful aura. Milagro could see it in her eyes, the darkness surrounding them, something unfamiliar to Milagro. That wasn’t the Y/n she had known all her life, this was a version of her she had yet to see. She looked unhealthy, barely able to stay awake or stand straight.  

“Am I trying to kill you? I should be the one asking you that. You are literally putting yourself in danger right now and for what, to have a conversation with me? You have my number Milagro, you could’ve called me like a normal person instead of heading towards the tallest damn building in Palmera on the coldest day of the year, might I add.” She replied annoyed noticing how Milagros eyes flashed pity towards her but that quickly changed when those words slipped out of Y/n’s mouth. 

“ Called you? How can I call you if you don’t answer your damn phone. It wouldn’t surprise me if you blocked our entire family, Y/n. You moved to a God’s Knows where,  to do God knows what. Have you ever considered in the slightest  that our constant calls are to see if you are okay? Alive? We haven’t heard a thing from you since the funeral. I know you are hurting but pushing us away… Pushing Jaime away is the best answer, really? I know you don’t want him to know that you're Spiderman, but all of this is not necessary.  You are a part of our family and we can’t lose you because you don’t want to keep hiding things from us. So if I need to put myself on the verge of death just to get my family back together, I will.” Milagro yelled at her, as Y/n shook her head not wanting to talk about anything that was coming out of the girl's mouth. Y/n quickly slipped her mask back on avoiding Milagro's eyes, not wanting her to read her facial expressions anymore.

“Go home Milagro. Your mom has to be worried sick. Today is not the greatest day to play Mother Teresa. Green Goblin is on the loose doing god knows what and you being here puts you at risk. So the same way you got he…” Before Y/n could continue her scolding she felt goosebumps on the back of her neck. She quickly pushed Milagro down covering her body with her frame taking the hit as Blue Beetle was thrown against the wall next to them. Y/n let out a groan activating her voice enhancement as she looked inside the screen of her mask to check what was going on. From the looks of if Green Goblin had finally taken a liking towards Blue Beetle. 

“Oh, what a treat. My new little toy and my old little friend, together. What a great comeback for my career. I thought I killed you once and for all, two months ago, guess we are destined to be together forever or at least until one of us tragically dies.” Green Goblin laughed maniacally as he stared at Y/n as she helped Milagro up. For afar she could also hear Blue Beetle getting up and heading towards them. 

“Milagro, what the hell are you doing here? Are you crazy!” Blue Beetle exclaimed as she looked at her, not even noticing that his long-time idol was standing next to him. Milagros sent him a nervous side smile as she looked between Spiderman and Blue Beetle. 

“Wait…You fucking know Blue Beetle? What the hell, why didn’t you tell me.” Y/n exclaimed as she looked at Milagro searching for answers. Jaime turned to Spider Man, his heart stopping for a moment. Spider-Man knew of his existence.  If it weren’t for the fact that they were currently fighting Green Goblin he would’ve squealed and asked for a picture or an autograph or something. But all he could think about was how Milagro knew Spiderman. 

“ I don’t think right now is the best moment to discuss this if I’m being honest. Maybe you can pass by my house and we can talk peacefully without a psychopath trying to kill us, maybe with a side of coffee or tea, whichever you prefer, Spiderman” Milagro replied sarcastically, snapping Jaime out of his trance. 

Jaime, you need to concentrate if you want to keep Milagro safe. 

“I know ! But he is right here, you don’t know how long I have been waiting for this. Spiderman, sir. I Know this isn’t the right time or place but I wanted to tell you that I’m a really big fan. I’ve been following you since your first appearance and it’s an honor to fight by your side. It's like a huge privilege just to be near you right now. I can’t believe you are even real. I don’t know if you feel a little awkward about me taking your place these past few months but I  meant it with all the respect.” Jaime replied quickly as Milagro rolled her eyes because of his rambling. 

“First, we are not fighting together therefore you are not fighting by my side and second of all, you could never take spi…” Before Y/n could continue her words she felt her body being pushed against the wall looking up to see the damn man she had grown an obsession with the past two months. 

“Well, as of right now it  looks like you need my help, therefore we are fighting together.” Blue Beetle squealed  as he watched Spiderman fight back Goblin. 

“Right now you just need to get her back down safely! Can you possibly do that without bothering me.” Y/n replied as she slammed Norman down against the floor pinning him down. Jaime stared at him, noticing that the techniques he was using to fight back weren’t his usual ones, they were more deathly with more intention. 

“Well, Blue Beetle. You heard Spiderman take me down safe and sound” Milagro replied loudly gaining not only Jaime attention but Green Goblins two. 

“Oh but what the fun in that! It wouldn’t be a party if I didn’t injure a quote on an innocent citizen” As he threw one of his iconic pumpkin bombs towards Blue Beetles and Milagro’s direction Y/n  quickly let go of him running towards them to protect their bodies. As she held onto Milagro’s body waiting for her to get a hit she turned softly, noticing a force field protecting the trio. 

“You see, we are a good team” Blue Beetle said and Y/n would bet that under his suit he was smiling at her. Could he possibly get more annoying?  Milagro and Y/n got up, as she inspected her once again to check for any bruises but before she could even move her from the edge of the building, Norman spoke once again. 

“Can Spider-Man come out to play?! I’m kinda getting tired of these boring little games you call a fight.” Green Goblin replied on his glider, hovering over them. He wasted no time to throw a bomb towards the top of the roof. In a quick instant chaos unleashed a crumbling avalanche of twisted metal pushed Milagro backwards tumbling off the side of the tallest building in Palmera City. 

Blue Beetle and Spiderman don’t waste any time ruining towards her, yelling her name together. Y/n quickly dives after her, her hand almost graces Milagros as she reaches out but before she can get a hold of it, Green Goblin whams her with his glider carrying Spiderman towards the other direction. Milagro’s eyes go wide in horror as she plummets, Jaime quickly reacts  flying towards her catching her with ease as she gasps for air. 

As Y/n attempts to gain her balance back she slams him down against the pavement once again. She quickly reached in her suit for the spider bomb she had  created, placing it near his chest piece. She struggled to hold him down as she looked to the side to see if Milagro was already out of their view.  

“Could you stop being a pain in my ass, Norman?” Y/n spitted out, as Goblin smiled at her proudly. 

“I can see you did your research, I needed to trademark those bombs, could’ve ran a fortune with them. Just look what they did to that beauty you call an aunt” Goblin started but his words got cut off by Y/n slamming her fist against his mouth. One punch, became two and then five, which ended with Green Goblin sending her a bloody smile. 

“Keep her name out of your mouth you fucking asshole.” Y/n replied in between deep breaths. She looked down at her hands as a smile plastered behind her mask. This was what she wanted, what she had planned over the course of the two months. Distracted by the blood covering her suit, Green Goblin jolts upright pushing her body off him. Y/n quickly gains her balance keeping a safe distance away from him narrowing her eyes, seeing red. Green Goblin rises, rips off his goggles.

“This isn’t the Spiderman people love, L/n. This is the spiderman I made.” Green Goblin taunted her as he took off the spider bomb on his chest waving it towards her. 

“You didn’t make shit” She replied to gritted teeth as she felt the screen in front of her turn red. Not hearing the warnings Karen was shooting her way. All she wanted to do was make him suffer, even if she took herself out in the process. 

“Oh, really? Do you think your little mentor, Batman, would be proud of you hacking the system to get information on me? Or that you recreated my torture tools to get back at me? That’s not something a hero does, Spiderman. That’s Villain shit.” He said as he threw the bomb to the other side of the building staring down at her in fake pity. 

“Shut up” She replied as her breath got uneven, Green Goblin laughed knowing that his plan was working. 

“Can’t handle the heat?  Poor, Y/n. Too weak to send me home to die” Green Goblin replied, pouting at her. 

“No. I just want to kill you myself. Make you suffer like the piece of shit you are” 

“Attagirl, making things exciting for me.” Enraged, Y/n rushes towards Green Goblin not even letting another word slip out of his mouth. She clashes their bodies together as she pummels him with an unknown murderous intensity.  She had gotten powerful, maybe it was the fact she finally was able to avenge her aunt or being able to let out all the feelings she had been bottling up. But as of right now, it felt good. It felt good to make him suffer. Goblin surprisingly breaks free releasing his arm blades swinging them at Y/n as they battle it out. But Y/n  had the upper hand, brutally beating Goblin back, not giving him the chance to touch her. 

Spiderman batters Goblin until he’s down on his knees, begging for mercy. All she ever wanted was this, to make him suffer as much as she had. He deserved this, a barrage of punches. Norman collapses to the ground as Milagro and Jaime watch from afar, knowing that things were going too far. 

Y/n laughs maniacally as she lays on top of Goblin, who takes punch after punch after punch blood splattering all over.  She reaches for the bomb pressing it neatly on his chest smiling proudly at him. 

“Guess you made a perfect villain out of me. I want you to see my face, make you see what you made me become. ” She says, taking her mask off, grabbing his glider , crashing at the base of the shield. Spiderman catches his breath as she drifts towards him, murder clearly  evident in her eyes. She lifted the glider over his head, about to bring the gleaming blades down on Goblin when  Blue Beetle jumped between them, stopping Y/n. 

Y/n screams as she notices the pleading look coming from Milagro’s face.  Y/n takes a deep breath slowly relaxing looking at the scene before her. A wordless understanding between the two. As she slowly sets the glider down Goblin throws something towards Blue Beetle making him fall towards the floor scrunching down in pain. Milagro quickly ran towards him to help. 

Green Goblin staggers upright, eager for more taunting Y/n. He wanted to see her true potential, her potential to make Palmera City a living hell.

“You know. She was there because of you. You can’t keep blaming me for your mistakes. I may have struck the blow. But you... You are the one that killed her.” Green Goblin cackles with glee as Y/n falls towards her knees hugging her body.  He smiled to himself knowing that his work there was all done. Green Goblin gives his back towards them getting on his glider leaving the scene. 

It was her fault. It has always been her fault, not being truthful puts her at risk. But it was easier to blame someone else on her mistakes. As Y/n cried, she felt a  hand resting on her back. She slowly turned her head towards the person, noticing the familiar teary eyes staring at her.  Her eyes wandered over his face inspecting his features as her face fell. 

“Jaime, You are Blue Beetle?” 

[MASTERLIST]