#also working retail doesn't help ://

[jettison-my-gift]

.

[monster-noises]

I love second hand book shops, I got to them frequently and always leave with Something and have a good time just peakin around

But i gotta say

It's one of the Worst spots for me in terms of imposter syndrome

I feel like everyone's uneasey with my presence as though i'm a stranger who just stumbled into their inner sanctum and they're.. they're gunna let me stay but they're gunna be weirded out the whole time and breath a sigh of relief when the Strange Unwelcome Freak Leaves

It also happens at record shops and sometimes at small antique shops or cons+festivals

Just this immediate foreboding of being Angrily Tolerated in a Space I Don't Belong

[iero]

i always have that post-vacation or even post-weekend panic…like What If they for some reason changed all procedures and i will go in and mess it all up, or What If i forgot to do something important before i left and now something isn't going to work/i'm not gonna be able to do anything i'm meant to/people are angry at me 🥲 luckily i got used to it after a couple of weeks but it still comes back

God, the "What if I mess up?" bit... I feel that. I'm like, "Damn, what if in the four days I was gone, I totally forgot how to do everything?" I've been working since I was 17 years old and I'm now 30 and that feeling has never gone away... I wish I could say that feeling goes away with time and age, but it still persists for me... :(

[deathisamotherofbeauty]

sad hours again!! truly can't have dreams in this world <- being dramatic

like not even the retail jobs id like to have want me :( idk I'm so tired bc what even if the point of anything

[acircusfullofdemons]

sometimes I genuinely consider switching over to the replen team. it's what I originally applied for before learning that shifts usually start at 5am. and I hate waking up early. but I like staying up late and am always tired during the day anyway.

[beafarm]

When all the rage is gone, all you're left with is this primal sadness

[nerdygirlramblings]

Hello! Ive been binging poly!141 and I keep coming back to your writing for my fix (because by now its basically an addiction😅)

I had this idea that the 141 are together with a civilian reader. And civilian reader works in retail, part time, and is mostly at home. Normally, they would be home by the time their boys came home, welcoming them with open arms, a hot plate of food, and time to rest and relax. But this time, the 141 get home early and realize where reader works: Walmart (or equivalent). Reader has been keeping this a secret cause they know its not cute like a coffee shop or cool. Its just their job. And now the most important men in their life know. Im thinking the 141 found out because they went grocery shopping and happened to come across reader or something similar to that.

I work at Walmart and it sucks🥲 thought that maybe something like this might help😅

Tysm, nonny! So happy to hear you like the writing. I hope this does your idea justice. (Walmart doesn't have stores in the UK, but they own ASDA.)

Also, thank you for my first request! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

pure fluff, bad accents (per usual)

Your boys find out you work part-time at ASDA on a random rainy Thursday in March.

You don't really need a job. All four of your lovers are officers with the British army. Prior to you, they all lived in base barracks. Prior to you, they lived fairly Spartan existences. Prior to you, most of their income sat in the bank, quietly accumulating.

They have plenty of money saved up that they love using to spoil you, when you let them. You know that if you asked, they'd give you everything, but you draw the line about asking them for an allowance like some tradwife. You want some pocket money of your own. Thus, the part-time job at the ASDA in town.

You're a people person, good at handling big personalities. You need to be to keep up with your boys. Between John's need for control, Simon's stoic dominance, Johnny's aggressive enthusiasm, and Kyle's blinding charisma, you aren't some shrinking violet. Within a week of your hire, your manager watches how you weather a nasty piece of work trying to demand concessions you aren't permitted to give and immediately puts you in customer service.

You're nearly unflappable in the face of frustrated pensioners and harried parents and entitled young professionals. Over and over, you're the one they call when a customer is going spare. Which is how your boys find out about your job.

They've been deployed for over two weeks, and you have no idea when they'll return. John had originally said they'd be gone for at least a month, so you aren't expecting them home any time soon. However, they'd come home much earlier than anyone thought, and they wanted to surprise you.

You're always so good about making the house feel like a home, with your bright smile and warm laughter, your home cooked food and soft touches in decor. You make them feel like people, not weapons, and they want to return the favor. This last deployment had been hard, and all four of your boys were missing your sweet voice and tender care. They wanted to show you that they loved and cared for you the way you always showed your love and care for them.

It was Johnny's suggestion to prep a meal for you as both a surprise and a thank you. After debrief, they pile into the car and decide to stop at ASDA for everything they need before heading home to surprise you. It's John who causes the code call.

You hear Susan's voice over the store-wide address system. "We could use a little Sunshine in the floral department." That's your cue. You finish with the pensioner at your till as Jacob, your manager, comes over to relieve you.

You take a deep breath and square your shoulders. In your experience, a Sunshine call in floral is a man angry the store doesn't have the fancy arrangements listed on the website. You wish the signage on the site would be more clear that the beautiful bouquets are online orders only. It would save you having to explain why the offers in store are so limited.

You hear him before you see him, smokey voice grumbling, "But if they show the bloody thing on the site as available, you should have it hear." You'd recognize the voice anywhere. He's not angry, not really, but Susan doesn't know that. Add in the sheer size of him, and Simon looming over his shoulder, it's no wonder she called for support.

You have never wanted to walk away from a situation as much as you want to right now, but before you can make an escape, Susan notices you over John's shoulder. Her little wave is enough for your men to notice, and they turn as one to see you coming towards them. Immediately their demeanor shifts. Simon's back sags as though his strings were cut, leaving him loose-limbed. John stands a little straighter, chin up as if to impress you. They've both broken out in smiles, though Simon's are only evidenced by the laugh lines you know to look for. It's only as you get close do they zero in on the badge on your shirt.

"I've got this, Susan," you say to your co-worker. "Jacob's on my till. Can you cover?"

Susan wrings her hands. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay and-"

"They're nothing I can't handle," you tell her, cutting off her worried rambles. There's a cheeky glint in your eye as you flick your gaze at your men. You clap your hands together and say, "Right, let's get this settled, then."

Susan takes one quick look between you and the now slightly less intimidating men and heads towards the front of the store.

Once she's out of earshot, John's face breaks into a frown. "What're you doing here, love?" He glances at your name on your chest again. "You work here?" He sounds almost hurt by the revelation. You can tell Simon wants to reach for you, and the only thing stopping him is you working.

You hear heavy footfalls behind you as Johnny's Scottish lilt reaches your ears. "Och, Cap! Ye said ye'd only be a moment. Gaz and I had a hell of a time getting the trolley on its lift ta find ye. How hard is it to buy bon..." His question dies on his lips as you turn around. "Bonnie?" He, too, sounds hurt to find you working here.

You can see Kyle over Johnny's shoulder, confusion written across his features. This is not how you wanted your boys to find out about your job, if you ever wanted them to actually find out. You thought maybe you'd surprise them with tickets to Hereford FC's opening game in a few months. And if they asked how you afforded them, you could handle this conversation then, but it's out of your hands now.

And as much as you don't want to have this conversation, especially not in the middle of the floral department, you can't stop the wide grin at seeing your boys again, home and whole.

"Hi, boys," you say, opening your arms. Disappointed he might be about finding you here, Johnny's no fool. He immediately steps into your embrace, and the others quickly follow suit. You're swallowed up by the smell and feel of them. The hug lasts one minute. Then two. Then they all slowly step back.

You can see the questions and cut them off before they get started. "I have another three hours before I'm off. We can talk at home, and I'll tell you anything you want to know."

John nods first. He recognizes your tone. You won't let them derail you for answers now, and they would be wasting their breath to try. "You heard the lady, lads. Let's get home."

They start to walk away when you tease, "Captain? Was there a reason you were arguing with Susan about the flowers?"

He halts his steps and turns to you, flush creeping up his neck. He brings his hand up to rub it as he says, "Er, I, we, wanted to get ya something nice, but they don't have the same ones as online."

You melt a little, watching the way your men shift nervously behind their captain. You smile softly and reach over, plucking a bouquet of rainbow poms from the rack. "These are what I usually get for myself when you're away."

John takes them gently from your hand and passes them to Gaz to put in the trolley. "We'll see you at home, love," he murmurs, leaning over briefly to kiss your cheek. Simon kisses the top of your head, fabric brushing your hair. Johnny pulls you in for another bruising hug and kisses your other cheek. Gaz puts his hands on your waist, drinking in the sight of you, before taking your hands in his and kissing your palms.

You watch them leave, wondering how you'll make it through the rest of your shift.

Three hours and fifteen minutes later, you cross the threshold of your shared home to the most delicious scents wafting from the kitchen. After slipping your shoes off next to the piles of boots at the door, you follow your nose back to the kitchen and the spread laid out on the large wood-topped island. There's a roast and mushy peas and mashed potatoes and stewed carrots and battered cod and crisps and spinach all surrounding the flowers you'd suggested, nestled in the vase you love most, the Caithness one Johnny'd bought you on your first trip with them to Scotland.

At the table, your men sit, plates made for everyone, waiting on you. They've changed since you saw them. Gone are any traces of fatigues and tactical gear. Instead they're all in casual civvies, truly home for the first time in nearly three weeks. Simon stands as you come in and pulls out your chair, smile on his scarred lips. "Come sit, doll," he tells you, not quite an order.

You look quickly around. "Let me change," you say, tugging at your uniform top. "I won't be but a minute." You back out of the room before they can stop you. You hurry to your bedroom, pulling your top off as you go. Once behind the door, you slip from your trousers into comfortable leggings and a large jumper, one of Kyle's you think.

By the time you make it back to the kitchen, your men are more than a little antsy. Simon's smile is a little strained, Johnny is fidgeting, Kyle keeps glancing between you and John, and John is staring at you. Your chair is still out. He waves a hand at it, and gently says, "Come sit, love." It's couched as request, but you know a command from your lover when you hear it.

You take your seat at the table. "Listen-" you start, but John cuts you off.

"Are we not providing for ya, love?" You see the hurt in his eyes, how much it bothers him to think he, they, aren't doing enough for you.

"Oh, John, dear, no!" you reply, putting your hand over his on the table. "It's not that at all."

"Then what?" Simon asks.

You look at them all, the expectant faces waiting to hear how they failed you. "I get restless sometimes. I love you, and I love our life. I'm happy to take care of the house and make sure you're all fed after a long day. But I wasn't built for sitting around doing nothing. I like people; being home on my own all day can get lonely. Especially when you're deployed. I also like having my own pocket money."

John opens his mouth, and you know what he's about to say, so you continue. "I know you'd give me any money I need or want, but I like having my money. Money I earned myself." You look around at them, willing them to understand. "It's only part time. Helps me keep a little busy and have a little extra to spoil you and me with."

Johnny is frowning, but you see Kyle, head cocked, looking at you as a puzzle. "I think I understand," he says softly. "You were making you way just fine before us, and you gave up everything for us."

At his words, the crease between John's brow deepens, and you're sure he's remembering the job you had, that you'd somewhat enjoyed, when you'd first met them. You'd been working at RAF Lakenheath, living in a cozy flat in Cambridge, near The Backs, when the 141 had been coming through the base after an op. An injury had put Kyle in the med center for a week, and while he could have been transported to Hereford once stable, Laswell had worked it out for the whole team to have some R&R near the base.

You'd quite literally run into John one day, rushing to your office, after which he suggested lunch as an apology. You quickly became close with all four, smitten with them from the start. In turn, they fell hard for you. They wooed you over the course of several weeks, stopping through Lakenheath on deployments to spend some time with you. Six months in and you were completely gone on all four of them, so when they'd asked you to move to Hereford, you did without ever looking back. But it meant giving up the life you'd led.

Somewhere along the way, your happiness overshadowed all you'd left behind. After a few weeks, being home alone while your men worked started to feel isolating. You liked being a little busy, and there weren't enough projects around the house to keep you busy enough. You'd always been independent, but you didn't want to be stuck in a job with long hours anymore. You wanted to be home for your men. So you'd found the job at ASDA.

Kyle reaches over to where you hand is still on John's. "I'm sorry we didn't ask how you were coping us being gone all day," he says. He looks you in the eye as he continues. "I understand wanting to do something, wanting to be a little busy, and if this makes you happy, then I'm all for it, doll." He gives you a small smile and squeezes your and John's hand.

"Gaz is right," Simon rumbles. "We were so happy to have you here we didn't think about what you did all alone all day." He puts a heavy hand on your thigh, the warmth of him seeping through your thin leggings. "'m glad you have something to keep you from getting lonely."

"Sorry, hen," Johnny murmurs, just above a whisper. "We didnae think a' ye enough." You smile widely at him.

"Johnny, you think of me all the time. This isn't about neglect at all!" You try to catch his eye, but he's looking hard at the table in front of him. "You did nothing wrong, love," you tell him gently.

He looks at you, blue eyes bright. "Ye sure?" You've never seen him this nervous before, and you break a little.

"I'm sure love."

He smiles then, a little smile, but it brightens his face and shifts the mood in the room. You look at John who's been surprisingly quiet this whole time.

He's smiling, but it's a little sad. "I know ya said we didn't do anything wrong, but we feel like we did. We didn't notice you were bored, didn't ask if you were lonely." He flips his hand over under yours and threads your fingers with his. "Yer giving us a gift by not blaming us, and we'd be stupid not to take it, even though it feels like yer giving us an out. Thank you." He brings your hand to his lips and kisses it softly.

"Thank you. I was worried you'd be mad," you admit.

"Never could make us mad with something like this, hen," Johnny reassures you. "I'm sorry we had to spoil your day is all."

You turn back to look at the food on the island. "You didn't spoil my day. You made it. You're home early, and you made such a lovely spread. I think we should tuck in, yeah?"

Simon chuckles. "Point made, doll," he says, scooping a heaping helping of mash onto his fork. The rest take it as a sign to start eating too.

The room is silent save for the sounds of food savored until John pipes up, "Why'd ya come to florals, love? We might have missed ya altogether if not for that."

You giggle. "The sunshine call, John."

"Yeah?" He clearly doesn't understand.

"It's the shop call for a difficult customer. When I'm on shift, it's my job to handle those." You look at each of your lovers in turn. "Seems I've got a knack for dealing with muppets," you tell them with a smirk.

main masterlist

[cyberm4n]

You've now filled my head with nothing but Alastor and Lucifer brainrot. Any other sharing thoughts you have for them? (I cannot stop thinking about them, I quite literally thought about them sharing me during my entire 8hr retail shift yesterday)

alastor and lucifer sharing you pt 3!

pt1, pt2

this was highly requested, thank you all for the love <3 im tagging anyone who asked/was fine with it last time but now you can fill out this taglist form to ensure you're tagged for future posts!

tags: @lu-ferri12 @my-anime-garden @princessdreamss @polytheatrix @reaper-of-light-12 @ambi-squirrelly @hazelfoureyes @meggletoomanyfandoms @afernandez21

cw: angst ig?? idk reader is upset cause they keep fighting, general relationship issues for a moment, smut, reader gets eaten out, there's some light praise and condescension i think, alastor has a master kink, alastor discovers he LOVES eating pussy, there's like a weird sexual tension between alastor and lucifer for the majority of this if you squint, the ending is VERY suggestive

other: not 100% happy with formatting on this but i wrote majority of it on a 6 hour flight so like. you win some you lose some. not proofread that well, i kind of ramble at times too but it's fine. 2.1k word count and half of it is formatted in a headcanon cuase, again, lazy 6 hour writing. i also don't use the bolding and coloring that much cause it'd be a lot of work.

left the ending a little open, will probably do a poll tomorrow on if people want me to take this that direction.

■ okay so sex aside i would think outwardly everyone knows you're in a relationship with lucifer at the very least

■ but it's kept lowkey with the other part of the relationship

■ which both are fine with btw

■ lucifer loves pda so he's happy, alastor isn't a fan so it's whatever

■ the public part works out because alastor would genuinely be worried about someone trying to use you to get to him

■ it's bad enough that it's known the king of hell has a new partner, but nobody knowing that if they fuck with you they're fucking with the king of hell AND the radio demon is a silent advantage

■ if anyone knows, it's charlie. but only to the extent of like the fact it's a hinge relationship, everything else she doesn't know and honestly doesn't need to know

■ she's just happy her dad seems happy and is getting along better with alastor

■ i think alastor is the kind to really start caring during the relationship vs. lucifer caring about you deeply before

■ so occasionally alastor will pull you aside, or if no one is watching will just press a quick kiss on your forehead.

■ meanwhile lucifer is always making it known he's in love with you

■ arm around your shoulder, holding your hand, everything

■ again, alastor doesn't really mind unless lucifer decides to be an ass abt it

■ look they still compete with each other sometimes they can't help it

■ then it becomes a game of how much the other can get away with before you either get upset or it's too telling

■ that's the other thing is like, the competing gets really fucking annoying to you

■ we saw them in hells greatest dad it wasn't a want to be a better dad it's just wanting to out do the other

■ and when it transfers to your relationship it gets agitating fast

moving on

■ relationship side alastor isn't as involved with that

■ but if either of them did something that upset you or like there was a lovers quarrel between you and either side it's a big deal to them

■ especially if you're only upset with one half of the hinge

■ cause like, sure, they could compete with each other and purposefully drive you apart

■ but tbh.. both of them lowkey like this arrangement much more than they thought they would

■ so they end up talking to each other about it and figuring out what to do

■ same if you're upset with both

■ not that you're upset often it's just that when you are it's usually cause they crossed a line in their little competition

■ and they hate making their girl feel like a prize to be won :(

■ whatever their solution is, they do it together.

■ show you they can get along, that they both care about you enough

■ you're in your room, a bit of a blow up happened earlier after they got into one of their arguments

■ it's not that you genuinely think theyre using you to get to the other but sometimes with the way they act it's easy to doubt

■ anyways, they both come in, it's late

■ i cry when im frustrated/upset and i think it's a pretty normal reaction, so let's just say you're crying a little

■ they're both immediately at your side, apologizing profusely

■ you've never cried like this before

■ it scares them. alot.

■ for once there's absolutely no competition, the only worry is making you feel better.

■ both sitting next to you on the couch, lucifer murmuring how much he loves you, and how he knows how much alastor cares for you

■ i hate the whole "alastor doesn't understand emotions" thing because he does. he has to, he knows how to read people well.

■ it's just he hasn't ever comforted someone

■ he doesn't know what to do when someone he cares about is upset

■ so he's glad lucifer is here, as alastor just sits at your side nodding along and gently rubbing your back

■ alastor only tunes back in when lucifer offers to give some space for the night, and a little murmur from you agrees but asks they both come to bed that night

■ given its usually only lucifer who actually sleeps in the same bed as you alastor is surprised

■ but lucifer is beckoning him out for some space.

"cmon, we'll be back in an hour yeah?" he chimes from the door, and with a squeeze of your shoulder alastor is out of the door, but he opts to walk along with lucifer. "we gotta do better" lucifer sighs as he walks, not looking over at alastor. he's not accusing alastor, he seems equally disappointed in both of them.

"for her?" alastor adds, and lucifer gives a hum of agreement. "this while ordeal has been quite... stressful as of late, no?" alastor adds, "to our own faults, yes" lucifer murmurs, giving a sigh. alastor nods, and the two men walk in silence for some time, ending up in the parlor, husk far since gone to bed. "want anything?" lucifer pulls alastor back to reality once again, he's standing behind the bar while alastor had been staring off, his mind running with thoughtd of god knows what.

"whiskey, my friend?" alastor suggests, and giving it a considerate thought lucifer pours two glasses. the silence falls over them again, just the sound of the clink of their glasses on the counter.

"so tell me, how do you do it when you pleasure her?" alastor breaks the silence, lucifers eyes dart up to him. thinking for a moment before replying "i don't really think tonight is the time for that—" lucifer says, but in a gentle tone.

"no no, in the morning." alastor says, staring down at his glass. "you two indulge often in the morning, correct?" alastor says, now his eyes uncomfortably on lucifer. Watching as the other man almost pales a little, swallowing thickly.

lucifer immediately falters, giving a sigh. "look it's not— i‐ that's not her fault–" lucifer immediately starts, assuming this is a confrontation. his eyebrows raise as alastor shakes his head. "oh please, if i had problem with it i would have done something" he says, a static crackle echoing through the room. "no, i want to know how you do it when you... when it's just about her. how can i do the same?" alastor asks, and this is even more surprising to lucifer than this whole fucking idea in the first place.

■ so lucifer of course explains some stuff to him, of course it's hard because unless he's done it before it's hard to articulate some of his "moves"

■ i mean lucifer can hardly resist going down on you everytime, he's definitely experienced but it's hard to transfer that knowledge at times

■ but he's impressed alastor even asked

■ so when they return to your room, they're a lot more calmer with each other than before.

■ that night changed a lot between them tbh

■ it's slightly awkward for both of them when everyone gets settled in the bed

■ you're on your back, lucifer on your right side and alastor on the left.

■ they're both holding you to the best of their abilities

■ lucifer gives alastors hand a squeeze before shuffling it to have a better grasp on your waist

■ you all peacefully sleep through the night, not shifting much but it's pretty comfortable

■ is the morning you're mostly cuddled into alastor, which is entirely lucifers doing

■ when you're all awake though alastor gets arguably nervous

■ but you being you, you slump over onto alastors chest, murmuring some affection to him

■ lucifer gives a nod, it's time.

■ he'd honestly probably move to get out of bed, assuming some privacy is wanted

■ but he feels a shadow wrap around his forearm, it's a light pressure

■ alastor shakes his head, mouthing a small "please"

after lucifer processes for a moment what exactly is about to go down, he's okay with that. he settles back in, his eyes on the two of you as alastor tilts your chin up, pressing a kiss to your lips. "my dear, would you mind if i tried something a little different with you?" alastor chimes, and you blink your eyes open again, still a bit sleepy as you give a nod.

he gently maneuvers you on the bed so you're laying on your back, his hands pawing at your sleep shorts and pulling them to your ankles. lucifer watches, honestly a little mezmerized by the whole ordeal. he feels proud in an odd sort of way. “I think our little doe deserves a treat, would you like that?” alastor murmurs as he spreads your thighs open. You take a shaky breath before murmuring some form of agreement, maybe even a little plea.

without further prodigy, alastors finally leans down his tongue swiping down your folds, hands grasping your hips to pull you to his face. your hands go to hold lucifers, but he shakes his head tutting at you. “ah ah, that’s not very polite princess” he chides softly, guiding your hands to alastors hair.

and alastor makes good use of the tips and information lucifer gave him, his tongue plunging into your sweet little hole as his nose bumps your clit. his eyes wander up, making eye contact with you as he eats you out so wonderfully. you tug at his hair and he practically growls in pleasure, opting to change tactics and focus his mouth on your clit while his fingers slide inside you, gently curling into your sweet spot.

and lucifer watches it all, absolutely mesmerized. he doesnt know what it is about watching this but theres something about knowing alastor is doing exactly as told to in this scenario that makes lucifer feel warm. he lets alastor steal the show, doing only minimal work. maybe hes softly cooing praises or gently reminding you to show your appreciation to the one making you feel this good.

as you get close, evident by the murmur that falls past your lips, alastors eyes snap to lucifers for a moment, and he takes a moment to think before understanding. usually when youre close alastor is all over you, telling you to be such a good girl and cum, just slight praises and coaxing. given the fact hes face deep in your sweetness he cant really do that, so that job is up to lucifer now.

“isn’t alastor doing such a good job duckling? you want to make sure he knows how good hes treating you, dont you?” lucifer coos, scooting in behind you on the bed so you stop trying to writhe away. “I think he’d be so disappointed if you didnt cum for him, you think you can do that, hm? you wanna cum all over your masters tongue?” lucifer says directly in your ear, and alastor feels a bit of a warmth in his stomach by being referred to as “master”

when you give a weak moan in response lucifer sighs, shaking his head. “be a good girl now, you can do it little doe” he says which is what sends you toppling over the edge, your hips rutting up into alastors mouth, whiny moans coming from you as alastor desperately licks up your sweet release. this whole thing was quite enjoyable for alstor, but hearing lucifer call you “little doe” his petname for you made him smugly satisfied.

after some aftercare which mostly just involved more cuddling, alastor feels satiated enough to shift to leave, before getting a look from lucifer. he reluctantly stays, feeling as you come to lay at his side once more. lucifer seems to take note of something, giving alastor a nod down, he glances down, seeing the obvious tent in his pants. alastor looks back up, slightly annoyed. a like “yeah, no shit dumbass” kind of look is exchanged.

alastor looks back down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you sigh happily. but alastor tenses as he feels a hand on his knee, shooting a glare to lucifer as he traces his hand up a little. the two meet as and alastor takes a shaky breath as lucifer leans in just a little, breathing out the next few words with a calmness alastor admires:

“just keep cuddling her”

[wttcsms]

if you feel like falling (catch me on the way down) | ONE

ᝰ.ᐟ after getting your heart broken by professional soccer player, rin itoshi, all because he loved the game more than you, you officially swear off all men — especially athletes. your publicist doesn't get that memo, though, and you find yourself roped into a fake relationship with yoichi isagi, who isn't just a pro soccer player, but also your ex's rival. things could get messy. ( fem!reader )

pairing yoichi isagi x reader (endgame), past! rin itoshi x reader word count 2.9k chapter synopsis there are certain perks to having a relationship that operates on a "private not secret" basis. for example, you're allowed at least two weeks before the batshit crazy people online figure out that little miss it girl just got her ass dumped. chapter contains partying to cope, social drinking, diet culture, this fic is so chronically online LOL author's notes so normally, i would organize the fic's different arcs or acts by explicitly saying "act 1" or whatever. like i said, we're gonna be chronically online, so the arcs are described as different "eras" and when it's a new arc, we'll get a new era 🤭 each era has special graphics for it: what the media sees vs what's actually going on. think of the era intro as a moodboard for the chapters that'll follow <3

⋆˚࿔ CURRENT ERA: PARTY GIRL 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ from the outside, it's giving irl serena van der woodsen but even better, no one can possibly have the same 24 hours as you, someone needs to convince you to drop the skincare routine STAT, matter of fact - we just need your whole game card

— guest starred on the hottest pop culture podcast where it was basically just a glaze session for you (besides the last 10 minutes where the host started asking about rin), articles that want to help readers live your (unattainable if you're not rich!) lifestyle, and a devoted fanpage that updates your every move... every move.

on the inside, it's actually giving listening and actually relating to sad music, asking an 8 ball if you're the problem, being desperate enough to believe those tiktoks that say if you claim this sound and interact 3x he'll text you back, wondering when you should mail him back his stuff, keeping busy in the public eye so no one suspects how miserable you are right now

— even spotify clocked you and it's auto-generated, customized playlist perfectly depicts what you're going through (talk about the saddest soundtrack to your life), got desperate and consulted quora (this is how you know you're at rockbottom). not shown: your credit card statement (retail therapy works, right? right?!)

“Promise you’ll be on your best behavior?” Yukimiya peers over his sunglasses so he can give you a very pointed look. You tilt your head innocently.

“When am I ever not?” 

Yukimiya lets out a very loud, very drawn out, very exasperated sigh. When have you not been on your best behavior? Well, just last month, you got drunk, stumbled out to your garage, hopped in your custom-wrapped pink Porsche, and somehow ended up falling asleep on top of the hood. (In your defense, at least even in a drunken stupor, you weren’t stupid enough to drive.) Last week, you collected the numbers of about eight different athletes and models, sufficiently led every single one of them on, and are now actively ghosting all of them because they committed the cardinal sin of not sounding like, feeling like, or being anything like Rin. And speaking of the devil, Rin’s the reason why just last night, you ended up blocking not just him from your social media, but his whole entire team, too. You felt vindicated when you did this at 2 AM. Yeah, because that’ll sure show him! He hasn’t looked at your story once since the breakup (not that you’ve been keeping track or anything), but in case he tries to play it cool and gets one of his teammates to view it on his behalf, you’ll have put a stop to that plan. 

(Even when you’re spiraling, you’re still painfully aware of the fact that Rin’s most likely doing okay, if not still performing at his best. He is most certainly not doing something as childish as getting his teammates to relay info on you to him. Meanwhile, you are apparently a social liability for your closest friends. Spectacular.) 

“Don’t answer that.” You tell him. “I don’t want to know what my life looks like through your eyes.” It’s bad enough that every little thing you do gets documented, photographed, and then sensationalized on the Internet, but it’s one thing for strangers to commentate on your behavior when they don’t even have the full story. It’s another thing entirely when it’s your best friend criticizing your current lifestyle. 

“I’m just saying, it’s going to be a very casual lunch with my favorite people. Not a party.” Yukimiya clarifies. 

“Kenyu, you do realize that inviting me to a birthday party, and then saying ‘it’s not a party’ is kind of giving mixed signals right now.” Now it’s your turn to give him a pointed look, but just like his, there’s no true venom behind it. It’s Kenyu’s birthday celebration, anyway. You’re not about to corrupt Mr. Catholic Private School and tell him to throw a fucking rager. 

“If my team gets their way, there probably will be an actual party. If there is, you’ll be the first one I give the details to.” There’s a distant shout in the back; the photographer is done with his lunch, and he’s ready to wrap this shoot up. Kenyu examines his hair in the vanity mirror before getting out of his chair and giving you a quick hug. Your photos have already been taken, and there’s really no point for you to be on set still. 

However, Kenyu’s on set. Your only other viable option is to just go home and hide under your covers, rewatching Someone Great on Netflix and Doordashing Ben & Jerry’s. Juliette is home in France and won’t be coming back until the end of the month, and you’re not really in the mood to see any of your other friends. It’s tiring being around people who can’t separate front-cover-of-Vogue you from the real you. If you’re going to have to fake a smile, it might as well be on set rather than grabbing brunch with people who would kill to be able to leak something as headline-inducing as your breakup. 

“Pinky promise?” You look up at Yukimiya. “You promise to tell me about the party even if I’ll make a fool of myself because apparently I don’t act on my best behavior?” 

He rolls his eyes at your comment. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, and you know that. Besides, you could never make a fool of yourself. Anything you do is declared iconic, anyway.”

Having a famous movie director as a father and a certified Hollywood starlet as a mother, life wasn’t just set at easy mode for you. You practically were given an unlimited money hack and started off with like, five times the XP compared to any other beginner. At thirteen, you told your parents that for your birthday, you wanted to become a model. Two phone calls and a private jet flight later, and you had signed with the best modeling agency in the country and had your first ever photoshoot booked. 

Fate gave you parents with connections, and you’d be a fool to not use it to your advantage. Fate also gave you the same photoshoot as another young model, and you’d be a fool to not befriend Kenyu Yukimiya immediately. Out of all the friends you’ve ever made, fate only gives you good luck twice: first with Yuki, then with Juliette. You used to think you got lucky three times — meeting Rin for the first time was like experiencing something cosmic. Now you know better. Even rich people can have shit luck, too. 

Today’s unlucky situation is the way Yukimiya’s “favorite people” all happen to be athletes. There’s not a single person here who isn’t his teammate or somehow related to Bastard Munchen, except for you. If you didn’t love Yukimiya so much, you would have hauled ass. It’s normally easy enough for you to avoid soccer players at parties because they don’t normally get invited to the same social events you do, but now you’re the odd one out. 

At least the food is good. You don’t have a photoshoot scheduled until next week, and that’s exactly why you’re comfortable with choking down half a bagel sandwich rather than socialize with the guys seated by you. Yukimiya’s real big on intimacy and the power of friendship or whatever, which is probably easier to achieve when you play a team sport versus the modeling industry, where good jobs are few and far between, and the reason why some models are so skinny is because they can’t afford to eat — literally and figuratively. If they’re not booking jobs, there’s no way they can buy groceries in this economy. 

He has everyone assembled at one long table in the massive backyard of his mansion. It’s honestly kind of Last Supper-core, but it fits him. Little Yuki’s finally old enough to have a seat at the big kid’s table. He’s sitting across from you, and you’re sandwiched between Kunigami and Hiori. Next to Yukimiya is Isagi. Out of everyone at this party, soccer player or not, Isagi is the person you want to avoid the most. So far, you think you’ve managed to skirt under his radar. If everything goes as planned, you’ll be able to leave this lunch with your belly full and not having to interact with anybody. It’s looking like you won’t even have to drink in order to get through this. 

“Hey, out of all of us at this table, who d’ya think would have the best shot at being a model?” Hiori is clearly speaking to you. The blue-haired player is looking directly at you, for God’s sake. You wonder if it’ll be mean to blatantly ignore him, but considering how this little question seems to have captured the attention of the surrounding players, it looks like pretending you’re hard of hearing is out of the question. 

Inside, you’re dying. The last thing you wanted to do was socialize, but it’d be selfish and bratty to request that Yukimiya find more time in his busy schedule to have a one-on-one celebration with you. You’re here to support your friend. You can stomach being friendly with boys who have probably seen Rin more recently than you’ve last seen him. Fuck — why are you thinking about Rin? Do not think about Rin!

You grab one of the premade mimosas from the tray in the center of the table. You down the glass in one swift gulp. On the outside, you flash Hiori a bright smile and give an airy giggle. “Why? You trying to get a foot into the industry?” 

Hiori’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink. “W-well, no. Just wanted to make conversation.” 

“No worries! I’ve been trying to keep up with whatever you guys are talking about, but even after all this time being friends with Kenyu, I still don’t really get soccer.” Your smile is still intact. You reach for another mimosa. 

“Rin didn’t teach you anything?” 

Ever since you entered the industry, you knew that you had to get comfortable with standing out. No — you needed to thrive on standing out. You needed to crave, to rely on, people’s undying attention in order to survive. In the eyes of the media, you’re the center of attention. You got what every girl your age wants. At this table, everyone’s eyes are focused on you. What you want is to be back in your room, away from their prying gazes and curious stares.

But you’re a trained professional. Your smile never slides off, never turns into a grimace. You give a casual shrug, directing your answer to the person who mentioned Rin in the first place. 

“I make it a rule to not discuss work when we’re together.” You look at Isagi, asking him with your eyes if that’s a good enough explanation for him. He holds your gaze, looking at you like he sees right through you.

You drink another mimosa. 

After loosening up because of the drinks, you find casual conversation with the Munchen players to be easy. The boys honestly never shut up, and you don’t know what they’re talking about half the time, but you’re cracking genuine smiles every so often, and by the time Yukimiya is going around and saying his thanks for everyone showing up, you are…

Not drunk, per se. You’ve built up quite the tolerance these past few weeks, and it’s hard to get wasted off of drinks that are basically three-fourths orange juice. (Seriously, was Yukimiya getting stingy with the champagne? Sober You might be able to acknowledge the fact that Yukimiya might have just been preparing for the Worst Case Scenario, which would be you hogging all the drinks to yourself. Which sort of happened. Fuck. Sometimes it sucks to be known so well.) You’re definitely tipsy, though. Maybe half a tier above tipsy? Whatever the case, you are definitely in no shape to drive. 

“Kenny,” you whine out his nickname, trying your best to pull out your puppy-dog eyes. “Please take me home.” 

“Ah, damnnit, [Name].” He runs his fingers through his dark curls. “Did you seriously get drunk off of orange juice?” 

“Champagne drunk is the best drunk. I’m pretty sure People Magazine quoted me on that like, last year, so it’s basically fact.” Yukimiya doesn’t seem overly impressed. “And I’m not drunk, but my alcohol levels right now are definitely above the legal limit. Sorry, but I don’t plan on making headlines for a DUI. Hard to spin that into something iconic.” 

This gets Yukimiya to crack a smile. “I thought you were leaning into the party girl look?” 

“Yeah, but after Justin Timberlake got caught for intoxicated driving, he made it look totally lame. He ruined it for us!” 

“I wish I could drive you back, but I have to retake some photos for this sneaker ad I’m doing, and with traffic, I’m really cutting it close already. Do you want to just come with, or hang out at my place until I get back? You should’ve said something sooner; I could’ve asked one of the guys to drop you off.”

You crinkle your nose. “No, thanks. I’m not a fan of strangers knowing where I live.” Becoming a model at such a young age thrust you into the spotlight. With media attention comes total pervs who lurk in Reddit threads and 4Chan, and stumbling upon some of the things said about you, reading the things they would do to you if they found you, all laid out in disgusting, graphic detail, left you kind of paranoid. Getting doxxed might be one of your worst fears. No Ubers. No car ride homes with strangers. “I’ll wait here. It’s been a while since I went through your things, so I’m sure there’ll be enough of your dirty secrets to uncover to keep me occupied.” 

“Did you need a ride?” 

Shitty luck, indeed. 

The teammate who decided to stay behind to help clean up (because he’s just that outstanding of a guy) is the sole reason for why you went buckwild on the mimosas. You can see why Rin was always frustrated with him.

“Nope—” You say, at the same exact time as Yukimiya nods enthusiastically. 

“Would you mind? [Name] actually lives pretty close by, so it might not be out of the way.” 

You shoot Yukimiya a scathing glare. He ignores it completely, smiling at Isagi. 

“I don’t mind. That is, if you don’t mind.” Isagi is looking at you expectantly. Yukimiya trusts him. And you trust Yukimiya. By some sort of logic, you should reasonably be able to trust Isagi. It’s clear that Kenyu wants you to carpool with him, anyway, otherwise he wouldn’t have been so happy to dump you onto him. 

“Sure. I’m ready to go whenever you are.” 

What would happen if you jumped out of a moving vehicle? 

At best, you’d get your pretty skin all scraped up, meaning your photoshoots would either have to be delayed, or you would have to endure all the clear distaste for your “unprofessionalism” in the workplace from the people who actually had to work to get to where they’re at. At worst, you end up hospitalized. Somehow, it seems easier to photoshop out a few cuts and scrapes than working with someone in a full-body cast.

As you weigh the pros and cons of jumping out of Yoichi Isagi’s vehicle — a sleek, black sedan that’s top of the line, sure, but understated luxury; it’s not flashy like the sports cars you see most athletes sporting — he smoothly reverses out of Yukimiya’s driveway. Isagi does that boyish thing where he ignores his backup camera completely and opts to rest one hand on the back of the passenger headrest, the other hand on the steering wheel. Fuck. Maybe it’s not a boyish thing. Maybe it’s manly. Isagi leans a bit into your space; not enough to bother you, but enough to where you can smell the scent of his cologne. He smells clean and fresh. Maybe it’s not cologne, but laundry detergent and fabric softener. Somehow, you find this very fitting of him. 

He glances out the window to check for traffic and eases you two onto the open road. 

He’s not playing any music, and you’re sure as hell not about to ask for the aux. You look out the window instead, watching the world pass you by through tinted glass. It makes everything around you appear darker. Somehow, you find this to be very fitting for you.

“You live around this area, yeah?” Isagi asks you, and you’re reminded that if you want to go home, you actually have to let the driver know where home is. 

“Yeah, sorry. Keep heading straight, and I’ll let you know when there’s a turn coming up.” Talking to Isagi shouldn’t feel so awkward. After all, you managed to talk (and actually enjoy talking) to all of Yukimiya’s teammates. You even got along well with Kaiser. But it just feels weird — you’ve never met him directly, but you’ve heard so much about him, that it’s hard to not see Rin’s rants every time you look at Isagi. 

So you don’t — look at Isagi, that is. You look at everything else. His car is clean. There are air fresheners in the AC vents. The floor of the passenger seat is oddly clean, like no one ever sits here. If that’s the case, you hope your heels didn’t track in any grass blades or dirt. 

“Um,” Isagi awkwardly clears his throat at a red light. “When I mentioned Rin earlier at the party…” 

“What about it?” Fuck, this is so embarrassing. Since the car is stationary, you’re in the clear, right? If you just unlock the door, you can escape on foot. Your house is now close enough that it’ll just count as today’s exercise. 

“Sorry for bringing him up. I didn’t know—”

“—didn’t know what?” You turn to face him. His jaw is surprisingly sharp, and you watch the way he swallows before he answers you. 

“I didn’t know that you two broke up.” 

No one knows that you two broke up. You’re still in the process of making sense of it all, and because you’re so messed up over it, naturally you had to confide in Yukimiya and Juliette. Neither of them would ever share that secret, though. 

So why the hell does Yoichi Isagi know?

“The light’s green.” You tell him, shifting your body in the seat, avoiding him by positioning yourself even closer to the door. 

Neither of you say anything else during the drive.

[after-the-end-times]

Not Just A Townie

~This was not the drabble I set out to write at the beginning of the night~ Rating: T◈Words: 2,21◈CW: Steve has low sense of self worth, Robin's just now realizing how low ◈Tags: Platonic Stobin, Robin POV, Secret Relationship Steddie, Lots of Emotions, Lots of Hugs, Sibling-like bantering, Bitchy Steve, Bitchy Robin, Retail Personas For @steddiebingo Square: Family Video Ao3

Steve smiled a friendly retail service smile at the two girls walking into Family video. "Welcome to Family Video, let me know if you need help finding anything!"

"Thanks."

"Sure"

They headed straight back to the wall of New Releases.

Robin poked him. "Go talk to them. They're pretty."

Steve glanced sideways at her. "Yeah no. Not interested. I mean, they're clearly not interested."

"You got that from thanks? They're pretty girls and you're a... not bad looking guy. Two plus two equals four, ergo go talk to them."

Steve turned to lean his hip against the counter, crossing his arms. "You do know dating doesn't work like that, right?"

"Really." She gave him a highly skeptical look. "I'm pretty sure it does. Otherwise, why flirt with whoever walks in?"

"That's to feel out the vibe. See if you click. It's not just, oh pretty, let's date."

"You know what? No. I'm gonna go talk to them."

"Oh! Good for you! Proud of you."

"Not for me! For you, Steviepoo"

"Ew, Robin, no."

Robin flicked his ear, he lightly slapped her shoulder, she jabbed a finger into his ribs, he flipped her hair, she went to-

"Ok, enough! What does the post-it note say?"

Steve heaved a sigh and recited in monotone, "'No slap fights. That means you, Steve and Robin. I mean it. No more customer complaints.' With three underlines under 'no more'. But, can I just say, you started it?"

"So? You could just not retaliate!"

Steve gave her a flat look. "I can't believe I used to beg my parents for a sister. Shoo. Go talk to the pretty girls."

She started walking backwards. "Oh, I will. Just you watch me."

"Don't trip."

"What?" She tripped. "Ow."

She popped up and spun toward him, sending a 'I'm watching you' signal and a middle finger hidden by a movie rack.

Robin walked to the back wall where the girls were holding up a couple videos, debating which to get.

"I see you've picked a couple good ones there. Is there anything I can do to help you decide? I'm Robin, by the way, and I have to say I've seen the one in your right hand about five times now, so, good choice!"

The brunette girl held up the movie. "Yeah? We've been wanting to see it, but didn't know this one had come out already." She held up the one in her left hand.

"Well, how about you check out the one you've been wanting to see. And perhaps my friend, Steve, over there can check out the other one and you could watch it with him? He makes the best popcorn."

The girls looked at each other and back at Robin. The blonde girl spoke up, "Oh, uh, no, I think we'll just see if it's still here next weekend."

"Really? You don't think Steve's a good looking dude? He's also really nice." She failed to mention the tendency for slap fights.

"Sure, he's hot," Blondie said. "But we're dating college guys these days? No offense to your friend, but-"

"We don't date townies." Brunette stated, with a little smirk.

Robin, honest to god, gasped.

She didn't remember the last time she gasped in offense like some southern mama, but this, she thinks, warrants it.

How dare they think they're above Steve.

Her face fell flat, switching to costumer service voice. "I'm sorry, but I believe those two videos are on a wait list. I'll just take them, thank you. I need to let the next people on the list know they're available. It's just store policy, you understand."

She walked back to Steve, holding her captured videos. She slid the movies under the counter, making a mental note to put them back out once the girls left.

"Sooo, how'd it go? Two plus two work out for you there?"

She flicked a glare at the girls across the store. "They weren't good enough for you."

"Awwww Robiiin!" He grabbed her up in a tight bear hug, wiggling her above the ground a couple times, before lowering her back down.

She slapped at his chest once she was free.

"Robin, it's chill, seriously. I can't really compete with the college guys a lot of the girls my age are meeting."

Robin gasped. Again. She's mildly horrified at herself.

"You listen to me, Steve-Marie, you're just as good as any of those college guys. You've saved this town. What have they done? Gone to class? Ugh! Stop looking at me like that!" She flicked his nose.

Steve twitched his nose and just kept gazing at her, love and amusement shining from his eyes and smile, for anyone to see. "Nope! You loooooove meeee!"

"You're annoying."

The girls walked back toward the front of the store, movie-less.

Robin gave a little wave. "Have a nice day! Sooo sorry about those movies. Not sure when they'll be available for you. You know, since all the townies are already waiting for them."

She continued smiling until they were out the door, dropping it once they're back in their car. Steve was smirking when she turned back to look at him.

"That's what got you in a twist? They called me a townie? I am a townie. Townie. Tooownie. Welp, word's lost all meaning."

"No, you're not, Steve. You're gonna get out of here, do something awesome."

"Why can't I do something awesome here?"

"Because! Because, it's Hawkins, Indiana. You belong out there. Somewhere they'll appreciate you! Ugh! Stop it with the face!" She put her hand over his eyes. "Why are you making me say nice things about you! You're you! You're Steve Harrington. Why would you stay here? Here?!"

Steve's smile slowly dropped, suddenly looking too serious and resigned. "Where would I go?"

She pulled her hand off his eyes, suddenly aware the conversation just went serious.

"Steve."

"Would it be so bad? Staying here? Maybe get a job somewhere I actually like? Get a little house with a yard? And just, build a life here?"

"What about the nuggets?" That got a small smile out of him, at least.

"There's other townies." The smile dropped. "Besides. I don't know if that's for me. Not anymore."

Her chest started to feel tight; she started this, she led them down this conversational path. "Steve."

"Hey, it's ok." He pulled her into a hug. "It's ok. You're gonna go off to college and you're gonna see the world. Just, maybe come visit townie-Steve, every once in a while, yeah?"

Silent tears spilled down her cheeks, soaking into Steve's vest. How could he be so resigned? Yes, there were a lot of good people just living their lives here, but- but Steve was- they all were, meant for more. How could they be happy here? How could he think she'd just go off without him?

He just kept holding her tight.

Finally, she pulled back, swiping angrily at her wet cheeks.

"Ok. Ok. Here's the plan. I'm going to defer college for a year-"

"No, Robin. You're not. You're going to college in the fall."

"Ok, Dad. No, I'll defer. I got into a few that I applied to. We'll use this year to get you in, too. Where'd you apply last time?"

Steve just looked at her.

"Steve?"

"Nowhere."

"What?"

"I didn't send in the applications. Told my parents I didn't get in."

"What."

"Where would I go, Robin?"

She blinked at him, she was so angry and sad and confused. She couldn't even form a thought, let alone a response. He'd just- But he was always so- How could he-

"Ok." She finally said.

"Ok?"

"I'll defer and you're going to update and send in your applications. If you want to come back here after we graduate, fine. But, we're leaving for four years first. Got it?"

Steve just looked at her, expressionless, it was unnerving, but she figured he was processing.

"Why?" He finally said, looking at her like he'd never met her before.

"What do you mean why?" She grasped his shoulders. "Because, you deserve to get out of here and experience more than what Hawkins has put you through."

Somehow, he was still expressionless, still just looking. She could always read him, his face usually betrayed every emotion, every thought. This was something new and Robin didn't think it was something good.

"No. Why would you defer? I'll just come later if you want. Why would you change up your life for me?"

Robin's chest was tight again. "Why wouldn't I?"

"People don't do that."

And there it was.

She could hear the silent for me tacked onto the end of that statement and it killed her.

Robin wanted nothing more, in that moment, than to hurt every single person who did this to Steve, who left him feeling like he had to give everything of himself while expecting nothing in return.

"Well, it's what I'm going to do. Ok?"

Steve didn't speak, just nodded, eyes finally filling with emotion. Robin pulled back him into a tight hug.

The bell over the door rang.

"Get out, we're closed!" She yelled without looking. "Flip the sign on your way out!"

She heard the thwap of the sign hitting the glass as the person did what she told them.

She did not hear the bell again. She turned her tear wet face just enough to see the door.

Eddie.

From his position, he could see Steve's face and Eddie looked gutted at what he saw.

Robin motioned him with a hand to join them. He was there before she could even let Steve know. His arms wound around them both, his head pressed to Steve's other shoulder.

She rubbed Steve's back, big up and down swipes of her hand, taking slow, deep breaths. Her tears finally dried up.

She heard Eddie's voice murmuring to Steve, too low for her to really make out the words, but she felt Steve nod against her shoulder.

And finally, Robin felt Steve take a deep, shuddering breath, letting it out slow.

Steve gave her one last big squeeze and pulled back slowly. She kept an eye on him, watching for...something, anything, she didn't even know anymore.

Robin just wanted to make this better for him, whatever that meant. She just wasn't sure if she was helping or hurting him at this point.

This Steve wasn't one she had a mindmeld with, she couldn't tell what he was feeling, let alone what he was thinking.

She watched as he turned to Eddie. Eddie, who was...awfully close, who lifted a hand to Steve's cheek and gently, slowly wiped under Steve's eye with his thumb, catching a stray tear.

Robin gasped.

Silently this time, thankfully, but that was her third gasp of the day and she was tired from so many emotional revelations in so short a time.

"Steve?"

He smiled, lifting his head to look at her. Purposefully, he lowered his hand, slipping it into Eddie's.

She wouldn't gasp again, but her hand still came up to cover her mouth. "Oh, my god."

"Is that a good oh my god?" Steve asked, eyes soft and a small half smile quirked across his tilted face.

"What? Yes!" Robin felt suddenly thrust back into her body, jolting forward to grab Steve's other hand. "Yes, it's a really good oh my god. I had no idea you were- and my mind's still reeling, but I'm so happy for you! And you, Eddie, obviously, but Steve's- well, you know."

Eddie chuckled low. "Don't worry, I get it."

Robin sagged in relief. She hadn't even realized she was so tense. She wants to go home.

"Can we go home?" She looked up at Steve, when did she look down?

"Yesss. Let's get out of here." He used his grasp on Robin's hands to pull her against his side, walking her back to the break room to get their stuff.

Eddie was writing something on the notepad when they came out.

"Hey babe, what're you writing there?" Steve said.

Babe

"Writing up your excuse for closing early."

"Yeah?" He slid one hand low across Eddie's back and tried to peek around his shoulder. "So, why'd we leave?"

"Computer issues."

"Simple. I like it. Though, what happens when it boots right up for Keith in the morning?"

Eddie grinned over his shoulder. "Yeah, he's gonna have a problem with that."

Robin ducked down to look under the counter, cords hung limp, coiling all over the floor.

"You might not have work tomorrow if he doesn't know how to plug everything back in. Also, there's the computer virus you valiantly stopped that he'll have to deal with."

Robin's eyes met Steve's, he raised one eyebrow, and she doubled over laughing.

She was laughing so hard she couldn't breath, she grabbed onto the counter to hold herself up. Steve caught her just as her knees tried to give out.

She leaned her head against his chest, trying to slow the laughter, trying to breath. Weirdly, she felt better. Lighter.

And maybe they still had things to talk about, emotions to work through, futures to decide, especially now that she knew to include Eddie, but she knew they'd work it out.

They'd be ok. Together.

[babsaros]

being evicted from my "home" suddenly after 5 years and need support

Hi all, i really really really hate that I have to make this post, and the background feels too personal to get into, but after 5 years of living here in what i thought was an amicable and indefinite arrangement, I am being forced to find alternate housing as my relationship with our landlord has completely deteriorated over this winter. My girlfriend and I have until the 31st to be completely moved out. We intend to follow through on this no matter if we have somewhere else secured or not. Living out of our car would be preferable to dealing with any more hostility or attempts at manipulation from our landlord. I work 30+ hours a week in retail, my girlfriend does online sex work and has a potential part time job lined up as well, but because this is so unexpected we have basically no savings. I have some very dear, generous friends offering to spot us on moving costs and first month's rent, as long as I can find somewhere, but I would prefer not to rely on them so heavily. It doesn't make me feel any better to e-beg, but know that I will be immensely grateful for any amount of support we receive at all, especially when I know so many other people are in equally vulnerable positions, including those attempting to survive and flee the genocide in Palestine.

If you are not in a position to donate, please do not feel pressured to! Just sharing this post would also be incredibly helpful, and I sincerely thank anyone who gives us support in any way.

I can offer small doodles as compensation for donations, though please bear in mind my turn-around may take longer than normal as I deal with everything else. I have full commission info and slots on kofi, and you can see more of my art style on my blog. Anyone interested in supporting my girlfriend through OnlyFans can DM me for the link to her page.

Book-ending this post with a picture of my cat, to make myself feel better. I love him more than the world. He's cuter than the two of us anyway, and deserves to be warm and safe.

[emrysmerlinambrose]

Simon dating someone with Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID).

Gn! Reader, no use of y/n, mixture of 09 and 19 lore.

__________

You don't tell him about your diagnosis at first, even after you start dating. People assume too much when you tell them. You don't know if you ever planned on telling him at all, your headmates sure as hell weren't gonna. It wasn't until you woke up one night screaming and sobbing, absolutely terrified, that it became enough for him to start pressing.

That night was bad.

You were working a very normal shift at your very average retail store when someone who looked like your abuser walked in. It wasn't them but that doesn't matter to your brain; the panic, fear, and anxiety coursed through you like they really did walk in.

Simon noticed you were on edge when you came home, especially when you wouldn't let him touch you. That worried him the most, you never pushed him away like that. Even when you don't want to be touched you never throw him off of you like he burned you, but he couldn't get an answer out of you. Sleeping it off never worked but that equally never stopped you from trying. You never expected it to result in the most vivid dream you've ever experienced. A play by play of trauma locked from your memory on purpose.

Simon wasn't able to fall asleep, not when something clearly happened to you, it didn't stop him from startling when you started screaming bloody murder out of nowhere. He could see it in your eyes that you weren't all there, you were staring directly at him and yet clearly not seeing him at all. If he tried to get close to you and comfort you you would only sob louder and beg him not to hurt you. It took 20 minutes for you to calm down enough, only it wasn't you anymore. No you went to that nice comfortable place in your brain where nothing could hurt you anymore. It's also where you stayed for a week. Not that he knew, it is a covert disorder for a reason. No he could tell something wasn't quite the same but you did also randomly scream bloody murder in your sleep so it's not like he put 2 and 2 together.

When you did finally front again after your headmates deemed you stable enough to go back Simon still had that pensive worried look on his face. No one said anything to him but it felt cruel to leave him out of the loop. So you did the one thing you never thought you would do.

You told him.

He thought you were breaking up with him when you sat him down to explain everything. The literal binder of information you printed out for him threw him for a loop until he realized you are not, in fact, breaking up with him. He appreciated the binder.

After that he, at first, treats you guys like you're fragile. To him you must be. He has been tortured, abused, buried alive, and seen death since he was a small child and yet his brain is whole. Fucked up but whole. Surely something truly horrific must have happened for you to develop this right? It doesn't take overly long for him to find out that DID doesn't work like that and he's a little guilty that he's relieved. He knows that your trauma isn't lesser but to know that it probably wasn't more than what he's survived makes him glad in a way. He wouldn't wish his life on most people.

He started noticing the differences after you made a nice little list of everyone's names and some generic information about them. He could tell your switches before even yall could. He knew everyone's body language and voices in under a month. Being a soldier helps in that way, having to always notice the smallest of changes in body language can sometimes mean life or death on the field.

Not everyone likes him at first, still wary and shielded. He may be your boyfriend but that doesn't mean he's everyone's. That fact was hard for him to grasp for a while. It helped once everyone warmed up to him especially now that yall aren't so worried about making sure you are the only one out when he's around.

Your relationship gets easier when you don't have to have walls a mile in every direction trying to keep you safe. It will never be perfect with functional multiplicity but neither are either of you.

[thebibliosphere]

I love how transparent you are about what its like to be a self published author in this day and age, and i was just wondering if there was a difference on your side between amazon ebook/paperback and audible - and also if Scribd is any better, because i use it as an alternative to amazon whenever possible (and whenever the library doesnt own a copy of whatever im looking for) is it functionally all the same? What is best for you?

Thank you!

I actually did a huge long post a while back when I got the audiobooks produced and uploaded to various platforms. I included Scribd in the breakdown after people falsely claim that Scrib is better for authors than Amazon/Libraries.

A lot of people were not happy when I burst that particular bubble by showing that Scribd paid me 97 cents out of the 19.99 price tag. Which is less than what Audible paid me.

Now, obviously, Scribd is different because it's a subscription service, and you’re paying for access to multiple things with that subscription. But saying it is better than libraries is just false because I also showed the numbers for that, and my income from libraries was several times higher than both Scribd and Amazon combined (for audio), which is why authors are always begging people to request their work in libraries.

Libraries pay us better and are usually free. Not always. I know it depends heavily on the country, but for most of my English-speaking audience, that is the case.

Now, this is not to say people shouldn’t use services like Scribd. If Scribd is what you can afford and it gives you access to things your library can’t fantastic. Please continue to access our work through that legal option. I would much rather earn 97 cents than zero.

But uh, yeah, Amazon pays me more than Scrib for digital stuff and I really don’t like when people who aren’t on the author side spread misinformation and frame it as some more “gotcha.”

The sad truth is Most retailers pay us the same or within the same royalty range. The difference I earn between Kobo vs Kindle is literal pennies with Amazon coming out on top. I make my work available on multiple platforms to give people options, but unless you’re buying directly from my personal storefront, it's all roughly the same.

I do actually earn more from Amazon paperbacks than I do any other retailers (for self-pub, paperbacks are a flat rate regardless of how much a retailer is charging), but the difference is about ten cents, so I always tell people to buy from wherever is best for them.

I like bookshop.org because they give some of the profit on their end to indie bookstores. Same with libro.fm for audio.

Audiobooks are just a whole fucking nightmare. Audible sets your price point for you and takes 80% of your royalties. And because Audible does that, I have to then use that price tag on all other platforms or risk being fucked by the algorithm gods. Other audio retailers take about 60-70% in royalties, most of them veering toward 70%.

As we say in radical acceptance therapy, it is what it is—fucking end-stage monopoly driven capitalism.

Now, speaking personally, when it comes to digital media, I earn the most royalties from my Payhip store where I keep 90% of my income.

That's the best place for me.

It's also why it's worth looking up an author you like to see if they have their own storefront. It doesn't help our sales rankings or put us on any bestseller lists, but frankly after launch week, who cares. I’ll take being able to feed me and my dog.

I hope that helps!

[athena-gundampla]

HG 1/144 Principality of Zeon Prototype Psycommu Mobile Suit gMS-Ω "GQuuuuuuX"

GQuuuuuuX!!!! I was really lucky to get this kit on pre-order, and it arrived earlier this week, well before it'll be available in retail over here.

This kit was a tall order for a HG, given how detailed and complex the suit design is, but Bandai really knocked it out of the park. Just like a lot of the newer wave of HG kits, such as the WFM and SEED Freedom ones, polycaps are nowhere to be seen, giving it the ability to hold stiff poses.

I was initially a little worried about the skeletal foot design, as it doesn't look like it'll let the suit stand with any stability, however it seems to work fine, and there's some nice poseability with the ankle to help it balance.

In terms of colour separation, it's pretty good. The GQuuuuuuX is really detailed, with tons of layering and colored stripes, but the kit manages to replicate a lot of it through the build alone. There are quite a few yellow foil colour correcting stickers, as well as some fiddly yellow sticker decals to replicate markings, which went on relatively painlessly.

There was still quite a bit of painting necessary, especially on the beam rifle and backpack. There are some small white details on the handle which need to be done, and the piping on the thrusters also needs to be painted white. There are also a couple of extra spots along the suit where yellow detailing needs to be done manually, including on the shoulders and beam saber hilts, as well as the white arrows on the v-fin horns. The core-fighter cockpit also needs to be painted metallic blue. There are lots of smaller details on the fingers that can be painted but were a little too small for me to bother.

In addition to colour correction, I painted a bit of the heat effect on the heat hawk blade, as well as adding in some weathering, which I did as usual with a gunmetal and silver drybrush, and some Tamiya silver pigment powder, as well as a little soot smudging on the foot-thrusters and beam rifle.

The kit comes with two weapon holding fist hand options as well as two open hands. It also comes with a few weapon options, including the industrial looking beam rifle, a large heat hawk, and two unique looking beam saber effects. These are done in a really nice trans-clear light green, with injection glitter, giving them a cool shine. The parts are sword-shaped, with a hollow space in the middle, giving them a super unique profile. There's a small shield that clips onto the suit's wrist, although I was a little disappointed it didn't have a logo decal on it.

There's also an extra head option with the V-fin in Omega Psycommu deactivated mode, with the red parts folded over the eyes and front camera. You can also take the backpack off and add a part to recreate the core fighter, although this hasn't appeared on-screen yet, and the manual is unusually cagey about any details, meaning that they're probably going to reflect a major plot-point.

Overall the kit is a really fun and unique build, with tons of cool little details, such as the tanks and fuel piping winding around the legs, and the little bolt holes for the V fin. It's really flexible, with some clever design in the hips and waist. It poses solidly and goes together quite smoothly. If the GQuuuuuuX kit represents Bandai's ongoing plans for HGs, I'm definitely looking forward to the rest of this line.

Hopefully the Red Gundam will be available soon!

[gatorbites-imagines]

Imagine being, like, a friend/parent/sibling/coworker of the reader and one day he suddenly has a whole harem of guys that all look the same??? And are extremely devoted to him? And some of them are REALLY odd?

The next family get together is gonna be weird as hell.

Reader doesn't see his family a lot, only for the holidays. Maybe less. Perhaps they live on the other side of the country, and reader works retail so he can't really afford to go back home. But with his new group of vincibles that's no struggle.

When you texted your parents that you were bringing your boyfriends they didnt imagine... This. They struggled to accept that you were in apparently poly relationship, and the vincibles would still have caused major problems around the planet before you influenced them.

Insert "get yo fucking dog bitch" "it don't bite" "yes it do-" cuz mohawk mark is a damn menace.

Your distant family would not understand, at all, and probably close family too. But they just kinda have to put up with it, and hey... Some of them are actually kinda nice once you get to know them. They all get the heebie jeebies from sinister mark though. It's prey instinct telling them to get outta dodge.

Seeing you order them around helps too, as well as they wearing normal clothes.

Maybe you can get away with lying that they're all brothers, but that also makes no sense cuz they're all the same age and nobody can pop out that many sons that look the same.

[melancholicstation]

GOT ME SPINNIN' LIKE A BALLERINA - jack schlossberg & ballerina!reader headcanons!

tags: @obsessedwithjohnjr @candyneckl6ce @rocker-chick-7 @ultr4v1ol3nt @violetharmonsfavgf @strip-weather-forecast @darcyspirits @fortheloveofjos @h-l-v-kennedy-blog @h-l-vlovesvintage @bluelancergirl @snowsgames @salvatoresablondie @dulcegal @kennedyism @bloxholden35 @kimcrystal123@absurdlyvintage @jackiesgirl @chemicalw0rld @remotewatch @starsprangledgirl @strryhaze @beloved-angel

your meet-cute is a thousand percent you correcting jack in a class (that you had no idea he was attending or really even who he even was, bar a few articles you'd seen on your weekly doom scroll) on a very simple sauté that he absolutely butchered...

you're kind of mean to him... but don't worry he likes it

picturing ballerina!reader in a perfect little ensemble that goes viral on the various social medias, like that one beautiful woman on tiktok (@creepygirl102) that got popular for her pilates mirror pictures

i'm picturing a sensible and practical yet chic style, that harbingers back to those photos sets of brigitte bardot in the ballet studio in the mid fifties to sixties (don't look up her politics, you will be severely disappointed in that damn french woman...)

ballerina!reader is a regular, the retail workers know her by first name basis kind of a shopper at stores like FLORE FLORE, and repetto.

the vibe is very much NOT ballet core, and instead actually reflects the style of a working ballerina. and as a result most pap shots reflect that! those dakota fanning photos are exactly the vibe ballerina!reader just has naturally/without much fuse/need to subscribe to a micro-trended to death aesthetic

your ballet teacher definitely set you two up big-time, as it's virtually impossible that you, a person who's done ballet their whole life, is assigned to perform a pas de deux with a man (jack) who joined the class six months ago...

jack will stay over at your flat the days before your shared ballet class together, and in the mid morning haze/rush of trying to book it to the eight am class you'll find that he's packed a scarily organised bento box full of fruits and nuts and honey and dates.

he DEFINITELY deliberately messes up very simple moves every couple of classes just to get you rilled up enough to scold him, and also begrudgingly help his form physically with your manicured touch... which was his entire motive by messing up so it's a win for him

but... it also really annoys the teacher so much that he's put in ballet time out (at the back of the class furtherest from the mirrors, because lets be real that kennedy boy is vain!)

you simply adore coloured tights, specifically from the brand swedish stockings (totally check them out, they are so precious and at a good price range!) and when your order comes in of a particularly darling set of brown tights he's DETERMINED to make them fit for his legs...

which obviously doesn't work and you get in a spat that lasts all of twenty minutes... because jack may be insufferable but man does that boy know how to grovel

is spamming that instagram story of his with reposted videos/screen grabs of your performances whenever it's ballet season like this:

i'm specifically thinking that reader was taught at john cranko's in germany, or perhaps a more geographically realistic school would be the joffrey ballet school on sixth avenue!

a moral boosting desert at le crocodile is definitively needed when you two are scolded by your very fair, yet incredibly blunt... french ballet teacher

i'm thinking specifically: an egregious amount of profiteroles hefted onto a porcelain plate for jack, and a butterscotch pear with crème fraîche ice cream.

and of course, a brooklyn lager is shared between the two of you

essentially you're everything (a seasoned, talented ballerina), and he's just ken (an average male ballet dancer who just wants to wear tight pants and look at himself through mirrored walls twice a week)

NSFW under this section! beware

you definitely make a deal with him in which if he holds an arabesque for more than thirty seconds *without falling* that he gets to eat you out (which you've been ambivalent about, a direct result of a gaggle of misguided and inexperienced ex-boyfriends) because there's no denying that that's a munch who works for what's he's given!!!

very this video kind of... but not really

and you just know he makes annoying as hell jokes about the terminology of positions in ballet...

and, on more than one occasion, looks up if there's an ballet themed new positions to try... to his shock and horror there aren't many that you two haven't tried before