#and people recognizing media in my work is nice too

[robinwonder9]

Wait is this directly inspired by How to train Your Dragon?

Some aspects are- the beastiary, dragon armor, and some of the dragon designs. I took inspiration from dragon depictions in a lot of different media.

Games like Day of Dragons and Minecraft help me come up with characters and landscape ideas!

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

hiii omg istg your modern jace works have been living in my mind RENT FREE THEY'RE SO DAMN GOOD but like a modern college jace bringing reader to meet rhaenyra and his brothers for the first time would be soooo cute, like i feel like joffery would LOVE that his big bro had a gf and would like pull her to colour with him and do stuff like that and rhaenyra would love her like a daughter, luke would LOVE embarrassing himm <3

Season 2 is premiering right now, but I have to wait until 10pm to watch since I don't have access to HBO Max... Please come to my ask and send me requests/let's talk about the new episode!! I will be opening them after I watch and giving my thoughts on the episode every weeks 🐉⚔️🖤

Thank you  so much for the love for modern!Jace. I really enjoy writing about him. This one was challenging to write as there was a lot of people to write about. I hope you like it!!

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When Jacaerys came home for Thanksgiving, he didn’t tell his family about you. You had only been dating for a couple of weeks and were still getting to know each other. It was too soon to announce that he had someone in his life. But a mother's instinct never fails to recognize the smile on her son’s face whenever he looks at his phone or the hushed phone call she had heard when she walked by Jace’s bedroom. 

Although she wanted to know everything about Jace’s new girlfriend, Rhaenyra respected her son’s privacy and let him tell her in his own time. That was until Luke spilled the beans after coming across a picture on social media where Jace was holding and kissing a girl’s cheek.  

In typical brothers behavior, Jace sent a lot of middle finger emojis to Luke for spilling to their mother. 

After a long phone call with her, a date was set. Joffrey���s birthday was coming up, so Rhaenyra saw it as a good opportunity to meet you. And Joffrey would love for his big brother to be there on his seventh birthday since he missed it last year. 

‘’Mom, we’re home!’’ Jace called as he opened the door of his childhood house, carrying small bags for your weekend stay. 

The sound of footsteps on the second floor filled the small entryway as Jace dropped the bags with a thud, making you jump. You took a deep breath, your nerves getting the best of you.

‘’It’s going to be fine. They’re gonna love you,’’ Jace reassured you, kissing your temple sweetly before an overexcited Joffrey came down the stairs. ‘’Here’s the birthday boy!’’ 

Joffrey hugged Jace, happy that he was home. It must not be easy for him to not see Jace everyday anymore. 

More footsteps came from the back of the house as Rhaenyra, with a blond toddler in her arms, came to greet you. Her warm smile was welcoming. You couldn't help but notice how Jace's features mirrored hers. Except for the hair and eyes. He must have gotten them from his father. 

‘’Hi. It’s lovely to meet you,’’ she said, her voice kind and genuine. ‘’I would give you a hug, but I’m worried Viserys is going to try to pull on your hair… He picked up this bad habit last week and we’re working on it.’’ 

You smiled, feeling a bit more at ease. ‘’No worries, it’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Targaryen,’’ you replied, glancing at the curious toddler who was eyeing you with fascination. 

‘’Please, call me Rhaenyra.’’

Joffrey tugged at your and Jace’s sleeves, his eyes wide with excitement. ‘’Come, I want to show you my birthday cake. There’s a big dragon on it.’’ 

Rhaenyra was quick to correct the young boy, laughing dryly. ‘’There is no birthday cake in this house.’’ 

You chuckled politely, figuring out that Joffrey must have seen the cake by accident and Rhaenyra was trying to keep it a surprise. 

‘’Jace told me you have a massive dragon collection,’’ you said, driving the young boy’s attention to something else than the birthday cake. ‘’Is that true?’’ 

Joffrey grinned and began to tell you all about his dragons. He fetched some from the playing room and brought them over to show you on the couch, giving you all sorts of information about dragons. There was one of every color and size. Some had horns and a threatening stare, while others looked simply beautiful. 

While you were occupied with Joffrey, Jace went upstairs to drop your bags in his bedroom. When it came back, he watched the two of you from the corner, finding it sweet how quick Joffrey took a liking to you. He was usually shy around new people. 

‘’Where’s Luke and Aegon?’’ 

Rhaenyra set Viserys down on the floor so he could play with his blocks, and shook her head. ‘’I don’t know. Probably upstairs. Aegon is with Daemon in the backyard. Since we cleaned the old playset, he always wants to go outside.’’ 

Leaning over the banister, Jace called out to Luke.  ‘’Luke! Come here, you little shi—’’ 

‘’Language,’’ Rhaenyra scolded, her eyes pointing at Joffrey and Viserys. 

He apologized and you bit back a smile. He truly was a mama’s boy.

You didn’t meet Aegon and Daemon — Jace’s step father — until dinner. The latter looked intimidating, but he kindly smiled at you as you shook his hand. As he was helping his wife getting the food on the table, she gave him a subtle nod of approval, silently telling him that she liked you.

‘’I told you my mom would like you,’’ Jace said, pulling you with him in the hallway while the younger ones were being bathed and put to bed. His arms were around you, chasing your worries away.

You took a deep breath, feeling the tension leave your body as you smiled up at him. ‘’Now I know where you got your kindness and charm from.’’ 

‘’You think I’m charming?’’ 

Rolling your eyes, you tried to get away, but Jace didn’t let you. 

‘’Joffrey is very fond of you too,’’ he continued, his eyes sparkling with amazement. ‘’I’ve never seen him so at ease with someone he doesn’t know.’’ 

‘’He gave me a full lesson about dragons. He is so sweet.’’ 

Hearing this made Jace happy. For him, family was very important, so it meant a lot to him that you were getting along with his family. 

His gaze softened, his eyes locking onto yours before leaning down to kiss you. Your fingers gripped the fabric of his zip-up hoodie, kissing him back until  a loud, exaggerated gagging sound broke through the moment. 

You both turned to see Luke standing at the end of the hallway, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. 

‘’Do you want to see Jace as a baby?’’ Luke asked with gleeful enthusiasm. ‘’He had chubby cheeks…like Theodore from Alvin and the Chipmunks.’’

Jace groaned in embarrassment and you chuckled, imagining baby Jace with chubby cheeks. ‘’I’d love to see those photos,’’ you teased, nudging Jace playfully.

But Luke wasn't done. ‘’Do you know why there is no school picture of him in fifth grade?’’ he continued, leaning against the wall, clearly relishing the moment. ‘’There was this guy at school who was bullying me and Jace decided to put his big brother pants on and take him on a fight. This guy was two inches taller than him and much bigger, so Jace lost and fell, which knocked his front tooth out the night before picture day at school.’’

You laughed, picturing a brave little Jace standing up for his brother. ‘’You’ve always been protective, I see,’’ you said, turning to Jace.  A small smile tugged at his lips. ‘’Okay. Luke, that’s enough,’’ Jace decided, taking you away from him before more embarrassing stories could come out of his brother’s mouth.

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron  @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08  @mymultiveres  @secretsthathauntus  @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas  @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9 @darylandbethfanforever9 @aegonswife @dakotapaigelove @jays-bullshit

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[romanticinlove]

Your number 1 fan

Summary: During a media interview, Jude is asked about his relationship with you. When it seems like the interviewer is implying something else, Jude has no problem coming to your defense.

word count: 1.4K

a/n: Thank you guys so much for the support! I hope you guys like this one!

__________________________________________

After a game with England, where they won, Jude and some of the other players began to prepare for the post-game interviews. During the game, Jude was able to score a goal and also assist with another. He felt quite proud of his performance and as soon as the final whistle blew, all he could think about was you watching the game. He had hoped that you would've been proud of his performance and how he would call you after he was all done and back in his room. You stayed back in your apartment in Spain while he was completing his duties with the national team.

The two of you had begun dating about a year ago and your relationship went public then too. You weren't particularly famous or anything. You had met Jude one day when your little brother recognized him at a shop. When he got a picture with the footballer, Jude took the opportunity to ask for your phone number. It was honestly out of a movie and you could not believe that this was happening to you. Around this time, there were plenty of dating rumors between Jude and some models going around the internet. You looked at these models are you felt as if though maybe that's who Jude should've been with. He never gave you a reason to feel like he didn't love you. In fact he would probably reassure you about his feelings 100 times a day. Through his words and his actions, all of those insecurities about yourself were put on a pause and you enjoyed your relationship with Jude. People did still try to compare you to other models and how you weren't the traditional wag, but you tried to ignore them and focus of the people who were nice to you and encouraging.

When Jude walked towards the various interviewers, a man who was with ESPN, called Jude over. He walked towards the man and began to set himself up for the interview. He grabbed the mic and smiled as the man.

"Hello Jude I am Manuel Fernandez, with ESPN" The man introduced himself "Tonight you played a very good game, scoring a goal and securing another one through an assist, how doing you feel after a performance like that?"

Jude thought for a second before giving a response. "Well you know it's always a great feeling when you are able to not only win, but also contribute to that win. I think that it's also easy to be able to do something like that when there are so many connections between the team. When you have that type of chemistry on the pitch, it's almost expected that something like this'll happen."

"yes yes, you and the team were certainly connecting with your passes like no other today it was truly something fantastic to watch. Right now, you are the talk of the town, one of the young talents who just has so much to offer, what do you think of the people who are comparing you to other players such as Zidane?"

"Well you know it's always such a special thing to be compared to a player who was so successful in the game and who just had so much to offer. I really do appreciate the people who support me and continue to motivate me. I don't think I quite deserve a comparison such as that one just yet, I think I still have quite a bit of work to do before I can even join a conversation like that. But I am putting the work in not for the comparisons and so that people can talk about me, but for the betterment of myself and to give my team someone who they can rely on while we're playing" Jude smiled and looked over to one of the team mangers who was signaling to end the interview so they could move on. Jude looked back at the interviewer so that he could ask his final question.

"Well those comparisons are coming your way regardless" the interviewer began to laugh before speaking up again "and finally Jude, how will you go out and celebrate a win like this?"

Jude immediately thought of you and got excited because he could mention you in the interview. "Well actually, I am planning on just heading back to my room and calling my girlfriend, who is actually waiting for me back in Spain." Jude was proud oh respond and wanted to leave it at that but the interviewer spoke again.

"Jude you are so young, have you ever thought of going out and experimenting a little. I know that a young handsome lad like yourself could walk down the street and plenty or more beautiful girl would throw themselves at you." The interviewer said this a joking tone, but Jude didn't laugh, He kept a straight face while looking at the man.

"and what does that mean?" Jude was a little angry at the question and did not want to let it go.

"I just mean she is not someone that you should be with, you should be with someone like a model you shouldn't settle for less, at least not her" The man laughed again, and Jude had had enough.

"Listen here you prick, my girlfriend, y/n and I, are very happy together. neither one of our lives is your business, she is beautiful and the only thing I have settled for, is doing an interview with someone like you. Don't ever try to talk about me or her again. You are disgusting and I doubt that you are proud of yourself for asking such a shit question" Jude dropped the mic and immediately left the interview.

When Jude walked into the lock room to change, some of the players noticed that Jude had an angry face on and Trent went over to talk to him.

"alright then, what's got you upset?" The Scouse player asked while sitting next to Judes locker.

"Some dickhead tried to belittle y/n and our relationship during an interview. He's a lowlife" Jude huffed while chasing out of his uniform.

"C'mon man, don't let people like that get you worked up, everyone knows that what you and y/n have is something special, you deserve the best and you have her. People only talk like that when they have nothing else going on in their lives" Trent tried to calm Jude down. It was true. Everyone who was around you guys In your lives loved you two together, and understood that you two were happy, regardless of your career or how you met.

Later than evening, Jude finally got back to his room and gave you a call.

'Hey baby, what're you doing right now" Jude asked you when you answered the phone

"Hello my love, right now I am just tidying up this living room a little bit, I have been neglecting it for a while. But how was your game! I saw that you guys won, congratulations" You spoke through the phone. During times when Jude was away, Hearing your voice was very important to him. He missed you like crazy and this was closet you two could be.

"Well it was good, I did get fouled though and now my knee is hurting a bit since I went down, I might have to go see the trainer tomorrow morning"

"hmm maybe instead of arguing with that guy during your interview, you could've gone and got it checked out" You joked with him. He had forgotten all about that and it hadn't occurred to him hat you might've seen the whole thing go down.

"so you did see that" Jude stated while lying in his bed.

"I did, that guy was an idiot. Why would he ask you something like that in the first place? Obviously I am the best thing that has and will ever happen in your life" You said in a joking tone and begun to laugh

"You can say it as a joke, but it's the truth. You are the best thing that has happened to me. I know people talk all the time, but there is no one I would rather be with. I love you more than anything" Jude said over the phone. You smiled on the other line truly wondering how you got so lucky to be with this man.

" I love you too Jude, more than anything"

"Besides, at least I'd have a girlfriend. I'd be surprised if anyone would even be with a man who looked like him" Jude said with an attitude.

"Oh my goodness, you cannot Jude say that about someone" You laughed out

"it's the truth"

____________________________________

[hazbinhazmeinachokehold]

The gang + powerful overlord reader who is trying to reform

A/n: Tbh I don't have the strongest grasp on what makes an overlord an overlord but I tried. Everything here is platonic!

Warning: Very slight alluding to suicide. It's in one sentence and not supposed to be about suicide but I just wanted to warn y'all in case.

(Not beta read!)

You honestly didn't want to be an overlord. But if you had some power maybe the citizens of hell would leave you alone. And you were admittedly powerful. Which wasn't by your own doing, just like in the living world everything was down to luck. And you won the lottery. So you decided to spend the money and became an overlord. Just to lower the chance of demons pestering you.

It worked. It worked too well. You took out a few overlords, it was dirty. You caught them off guard in the middle of going about their life. You don't keep up with politics. To your surprise, you took out two heavy hitters. Which did result in people not pestering you. But not just that it resulted in them outright avoiding you. You didn't feel good about killing them, you just killed as many as you thought would need to make you noteable. If you had just killed the two it would have removed more unnecessary deaths that you caused.

People would literally light themselves on fire rather than be near you. Out of fear of what gruesome way you would kill them. Not that you would kill them but rumors spread. It went from you just stabbing the overlords to torturing them in the most messed up way possible. You being this insanely powerful and sadistic being. That was the only way they could imagine you killing some of the most powerful creatures in hell.

So it was like that for years. As you were walking around the death and carnage you didn't mean to cause. Amidst all the screams you heard a TV playing. You check it out and it was some sort of ad. You recognized Angel from Val. Whenever Velvet was the one to show up at meetings she would always manage to bring up her and the other Vee's social media presence. Which with Val would involve his pornos. At least he's able to escape from that prick sometimes. Despite the glitch he was somehow causing and his face being hidden you also recognized Alastor.

You didn't know much about your colleague's personal lives. You barely showed up at the meeting but this piqued your interest. But it was quickly cut off by the news.

"Breaking news in hell today!" One of the broadcasters, Katie, spoke, "We have just received word from the Heaven embassy that the next extermination is happening sooner than ever before!"

Well fuck you guess. You were never worried about exterminations. Not only did you have a safe area then none of the angels seemed to visit, if they killed you you'd be out of this dumpster fire. Granted you could go to an even worse dumpster fire but you didn't know that for sure.

But you were interested in whatever that first ad was for. Granted everyone was panicking so it wasn't like you could ask anyone about it. However, the news cut right back to the ad.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!" A woman with an x over her eye spoke.

It cut to Husk (Who you've only heard snippets about from Alastor.) and Angel.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel." Husk's eyes lingered below him. Clearly reading a script. If his eyes didn't give it away his monotone voice certainly did. "Can I help you with anything?"

"I've been a bad boy. And I need a big strong daddy to put me in my place." Angel moaned. There was a slight sigh coming from behind the camera. Okay ew. You were not trying to see porn while going for a walk. Just as you were about to walk away Angel spoke up again, "On the path to redemption!"

Oh! That sounded... quite nice actually. You didn't exactly believe in the idea. But a chance to get away and even a chance to redeem yourself was a very nice idea.

You went to the hotel's door and racked against the door. Which was kind of stupid. Hotel doors don't need to be knocked on but it still felt like the right thing to do. The fucking princess of hell herself opened the door with a somewhat panicky smile plastered on her face.

"Hello-" She bit her lip "One second." She left but left the door open a creek, "Vaggie it happened again!" She yelled you could hear the rest of what she was saying but you saw a red glow approaching the door.

Before you knew what was happening your hand (and whole body was being shaken by the Radio demon himself, "Why hello y/n!" His staticky voice greeted, "Are you here to watch this wayward adventure fail as well? Or perhaps you aim to entertain it?" Alastor unnerved you. While you were the same on power level he was unpredicted any vengeful thoughts he had were hidden behind his smile.

He was gently pushed away by Charlie. "So sorry about the wait, just wasn't expecting another powerful overlord." She vaguely gestured to Alastor, "So do you want to check in?" Her voice was cautiously hopeful.

"Yep!"

Her eyes turned the size of saucers, "OK! Great so um sorry I'm just so excited! You can go choose your room! A few are already occupied by our guests and staff! But it's pretty easy to tell which rooms are taken." She rambled. As she guided you through the hotel the woman with an x over her eye pointed a spear at you as you passed by.

A short one-eyed girl scattered around. The exact opposite of how she was in the ad. She stabbed a bug with a whole knife getting dangerously close to Husk being at the end of her knife in the process.

Angel glanced at you and any color his already pure white face had drained. Uh oh.

"One minute." You said and walked over to the spider demon, "Fyi just to let you know I also want to kill Val. Just say the word and I might finally be able to go through with it." You said in a hushed voice. He was still tense but visibly relaxed.

You soon found a room and got somewhat set up. You'd have to bring some stuff from your house tomorrow. But today you decided to just collapse onto your bed. While your first impressions weren't of a super chill place, it did give the impression of a family. Maybe your life wouldn't be so much of a living hell here.

[vaultdwellerbarbie]

mary's song (oh my my my)

boone x f!reader (5.5k wc)

summary quite literally everyone who has ever interacted with yourself and boone knows that you're in love with each other, it's really just the two of you who can't seem to recognize it

content warnings tornadoes, a few crude jokes

hi everyone i'm back!!! just moved, but managed to see twisters again during it. i've been in a (useless) quest to find a twisters poster, too. this is named after the taylor swift song because... obviously, i'm sure you've heard the song. divider credit to saradika :-) also did anyone else get bombared on tiktok and instagram by anthony ramos shooting a video up his nose yesterday???? someone needs to tell him how to hold his phone

It had only been about a year ago that you first met Tyler Owens and, after a long conversation, had been invited to accompany the small team he had been putting together to chase tornadoes. Despite it not having been that long ago, a lot had happened in the time between your first meeting and now.

For starters, you had never really been big on using social media publicly before all of this. That wasn’t to say that you were terrified of it, or that you even had many qualms with your newly found position of having people know your name—really, most people were interested in Tyler, so it wasn’t like you were being hounded just because the channel had so many followers online. Even Tyler wasn’t being necessarily hounded, though he was a bit more famous than the rest of you.

The main part of your attention came from the second thing that had massively changed since you started working with the team: everyone seemed to be under the impression that you were in love with your best friend and that the feelings were reciprocated. 

To be clear, you were in love with Boone. But you didn’t think people needed to know that; you denied it every time someone asked you. 

When you joined the Wrangler team, it was an adjustment for everyone to have a new member of the team taking part in everything. That wasn’t to say that people ignored you, or that they didn’t like having you around; it was more like muscle memory. They had to balance making sure you felt included without accidentally making you feel suffocated, especially since you were still navigating being a chaser, which is tricky on its own, and being a ‘social media influencer’, in a sense. 

While that was happening, Boone took it upon himself to make sure that you were included and comfortable. He was nice, he was funny, he had a lot of energy, and you liked being around him. He made you laugh when you were scared, he made you eat when you got so lost in the work that you forgot, and he kept you up with long conversations even when you were exhausted and you would have told anyone else that you needed to go to bed. You often looked forward to your half-awake conversations at tailgates with him once everyone else had fallen asleep, even though you knew that you were going to regret it in the morning. 

Even then, you could never fully regret it. Boone went out of his way to bring you coffee or energy drinks depending on how tired you were; it didn’t take him long for you to figure out your tastes. 

That’s not to say that he was the only one who was incredibly generous with you - everyone was very welcoming, and you appreciated all of them; it was just a little bit different with Boone. At first, you figured it was just because your personalities meshed well together—and that was definitely a factor—but after a while, you started to recognize that it was a little more than that. As much as you tried to deny it to yourself, at the point that your stomach was fluttering every time he touched you, you knew that you couldn’t deny the reason why it was different with Boone. 

Well, you couldn’t deny it to yourself, at least. Everyone else you could deny it away to, even though you weren’t sure you were the most convincing liar. 

The fans picked up on it rather quickly, probably because with every seating and vehicle arrangement that they saw, you were almost always together. Maybe it was the way that you laughed at his jokes or the way that he had initially encouraged you when you weren’t sure what to say in front of the cameras. It could have been the fact that, as you got closer, you were a lot more touchy. Sometimes, you could act like you shared a brain cell, and sometimes that came along with you hugging on camera or sitting shoulder to shoulder, looking like you’re creating some sort of plan in the corner of the vehicle when in reality you’re... actually, often creating a plan. 

The rest of the team picked up on it just as fast, though they didn’t go to the extremes that the fans did—it wasn’t like you woke up to a message from a family member sending a ‘ship edit’ that your friends had made of you and Boone; that was all the fanbase.

No, the rest of the team were somewhat subtle about it at first. But when it got to the point that he would stand behind you, rest his head on your shoulder, and let you do the same to him whenever you felt like it—any restraint that they had was out of the window. At that point, Tyler was almost frustrated by the fact that you both continually denied that anything was happening between you when it was so abundantly clear to everyone else that the things that you both labeled as platonic were anything but that.

Still, even in private, you would never admit to anyone that you had any sort of non-platonic feelings for Boone, and he would deny, deny, deny every time someone asked him. 

Sometimes it was fans when you were selling merchandise; other times it was the people you were helping in the towns who noted how comfortable you were with each other. Outside of that, it was your friends pulling you aside and trying their hardest to get the two of you to finally admit that something was going on between you. No matter who it was, you both always had the same answer—you're insane, I’m not in love. Have you never had a close friend before? 

Out of everyone, Tyler was the most frustrated with it because he was close friends with Boone, and he knew that it would make him even happier if he could just admit that he has feelings for you. Still, nothing he did or said really helped, even though that never stopped him from continuing to try to get one of you to break. 

The most egregious example is the fact that Kate was convinced that the two of you were together when she first met you and had to be informed that wasn’t the case. She had, earnestly, been discussing what it was like to be in a relationship in public like that with yourself and Tyler when he had to politely inform her that you, in fact, were not in a relationship with Boone. Now, he ended it there with you in the conversation, but the moment he could talk to Kate alone they were both complaining about it—it made no sense to them that you and Boone weren’t in a relationship with the way that you acted toward each other. 

Despite that, you both continued what you were doing beforehand. There was, however, a palpable shift in the dynamic of your relationship after you met Kate—after the incident in the theater. 

Though you both survived it, you never shook the feeling that came with gripping onto flimsy, rusty theater seats for dear life and not knowing if the other person was going to make it out alive. During it, you wished that you had told him how you felt because you were worried that you would never get the chance again, but even after you both made it out alive, you said nothing—Boone said nothing. The idea of ruining your friendship if he didn’t feel the same way or vice versa just felt like too much of a risk, so you chose to keep it to yourself. 

Still, you managed to be even closer after that. You sat closer, touched each other more, and often refused to go on a chase without the other person by your side—that had more to do with the remaining fear of something going wrong again, but you also knew that it had something to do with the fact that both of you had something that you needed to get off of your chests and had decided to keep to yourselves for one reason or another. It got to a point where everyone seemed genuinely frustrated by your lack of communication on the matter, but you were both convinced that it was the only thing that you could do. 

Another chase had gone well, and you were sitting with your friends in the parking lot of some motel—admittedly, one of the nicer ones that you had stayed at—but you were pretty sure it was because it was recently rebuilt after being ravaged by a tornado. There were a few people you had met along the way—fans of the channel who were studying tornadoes and other natural disasters—who were having a conversation predominantly with Tyler and Kate. 

Feeling a nudge on your shoulder, you turned to face Boone, who was offering you a cold bottle of water. 

“Thanks.”

It was an unconscious choice when you decided to move a bit closer to Boone once he was seated, but one that caught the eyes of the people around you regardless. 

“My daughter is a big fan of both of you.” One of the older women commented, and a smile covered your lips as you turned to look at her. “But she seems to think you’re both…”

“She must be one of the editors.” 

“Writer, actually.”

“Ah.” 

Both of you knew about the edits and the fan fiction. That’s not to say that there were a lot of them, they were just a lot more popular than any other pairing in the fanbase. Many people who subscribed to the channel were people who were generally interested in nothing but the weather, but what caught the attention of the young eye? Admittedly, Tyler and not any of you. But what kept them coming back wasn’t just them enjoying looking at Tyler but rather the relationships between the crew.

For the same tried and true reason that people listen to podcasts, and before that radio shows, to get through their daily grind, they enjoy the relationships and conversations between the Wranglers. But younger people get heavily into shipping, and since the two of you tend to finish each other’s sentences, it’s often the two of you that get the most edits and fanfictions written about you—the most people in the comment sections who are convinced that something is happening that’s more than what they already knew. 

“But you’re not together, are you?”

“Not as far as we know. Are we, Boone?” You turned to look at him, but he only gave her the same smile he always gave the people who inquired about the nature of your relationship.

“I don’t think so.”

"Yeah, but everyone else does,” Tyler interjected, to which you could both agree. Though he said it in the sense that he—and everyone else on the crew—was under the impression that you were wrongly convinced that you weren’t in a relationship and that you were just blind to the reality of it, you agreed because you knew that everyone else believed that you were in a relationship with each other even if you continually denied it. 

“Even Kate does, and she just got here.” Dani was the next to speak up, but you just took a sip of your water and tried to ignore it. As much as you love everyone on the team, sometimes it could be difficult with them being convinced of your relationship with Boone being something that it wasn’t. To be clear, you loved him; you wanted it to be more than what it was, but it took a lot out of you to make peace with just being friends with him, and it could sometimes be draining to be constantly reminded of that. 

“She’s always talking about one specific chase, where she wore his glasses or something?”

You knew what she was talking about; you remembered that day vividly. 

While you, typically, came prepared for anything, your sunglasses had been destroyed in a chase because you had gotten a little bit overzealous and lost them out of the window. Since there was an outbreak at the time, you were so exhausted at the end of that day that you just kind of forgot that you were planning on getting new sunglasses. Despite the incoming storm, it was sunny that day. You complained to Tyler and Boone about how you hated not having your glasses during chases, and Boone took it upon himself to reach back from the front seat and politely put his sunglasses on your face. To top it all off, he made sure to give you a gentle pat on the cheek before turning back around. Certainly, your face had grown impossibly warm during that moment, and you weren’t sure how he could have missed that when he touched it. 

A lot of fans latched onto that because it seemed like a clear piece of evidence that something was going on between you and Boone. While you saw it as nothing more than him being silly—and a good friend—everyone who was already prone to thinking that something was going on between the two of you only had their thoughts amplified.

After a few moments, questions about your relationship were dropped, and whatever conversation had been happening across from you before just proceeded. But you couldn’t deny that there had been a shift since everything happened—since you first met Kate, since you almost lost each other, and a sopping wet Boone pulled you so tightly against him that you were pretty sure you were just a little bit more pressure away from being suffocated—but you knew that you had him in just as aggressive of a hold, and for good reason. You didn’t want to die, and that was enough to instill fear within you, but you also didn’t want Boone to die. You were terrified to lose him, and the mere fact that he didn’t know you loved him in any way other than him being your best friend was beyond you. But you also knew that you hated the idea of him not being in your life. What if he didn’t reciprocate your feelings? You didn’t want to risk losing him. 

The rest of the night went just about how nights like these typically went. You had a good time with everyone but gave Boone most of your attention. He was the one next to you, the one who let you rest your head on his shoulder when you got tired, the one who walked you to your room (that was right next to his) and reminded you that he would be up bright and early just to make sure that you were up bright and early. 

While you were up early, you were unhappy about it. The entire night you were tossing and turning, considering whether you should just listen to what everyone around you keeps saying about Boone and just follow what your heart requires of you. But the logical part of your brain refuses to allow you to make any rash decisions in the middle of the night. Not the night before a tornado that predictions are saying is going to be at least someone impressive.

Predictions can always be wrong, you know that. Just because the numbers are good doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re in for a big show. But, you’re still all prepared for something big to happen—even if you end up with a little tornado or nothing at all, the fans are still going to enjoy it, and you’ll have the added benefit of knowing that at least one town or city isn’t going to have to pay a fortune in repairs. While one little street sign might not make much of a difference, even one house being hit is something that everyone takes harshly on the team. A lot of thoughts kept you up at night, but you ultimately were able to fall asleep.

Waking up the next morning, getting everything ready, and opening the door to find Boone waiting at the top of the stairs with a coffee is typically how you end up getting out of bed every morning—today has been no different thus far. You’re not expecting today to be much different than any other day to begin with, so you’re not looking for much when you walk outside of the motel room.

“You know if today is an experiment day?” You asked, taking a sip of your coffee. Your arm was almost touching Boone’s as you walked beside him, but your friends were used to that at this point. If they even noticed anymore, they didn’t make the effort to say something about it. There was no point; it was like speaking to two brick walls when anyone tried to confront either of you about the nature of your relationship in any capacity. 

“Think so; you gotta ask Kate.”  Since the damage was, preliminarily, expected to be a bit higher of a risk than the smaller storms that you had been dealing with lately, it was most likely that it was an experiment day. While you knew that Kate’s formulations worked, you also knew that it wasn’t a miracle to end all tornadoes. She needed to continue working on them and making sure that they could be as useful toward preventing destruction as humanly possible.

Still, as you waited by the trucks, the early morning sun shining on Boone as you walked beside him, you couldn’t help but think about him in ways that you were certain a friend doesn’t typically think about her other friend. You knew that the way you looked at him was different, and you knew that you probably should have been more subtle about it. If he had noticed the way that you looked at him, he hadn’t said anything. 

“Sorry, we didn’t have time to eat.” He finally said, leaning against the truck. “I did bring this though.”

Your lips broke into a smile as you watched him pull a chocolate bar out from his pockets, but you only shook your head. “I don’t want to eat pocket chocolate, Boone.”

“Why do you always gotta call it that? Just ‘cause it’s in my pocket-”

“It’s hot out here! You can’t tell me that thing isn't melting—at least a little.” 

Boone opened up the candy bar, and you both looked at it. It wasn’t quite gooey yet, but it was definitely melting. “So what if she’s meltin’? Still candy. You like hot chocolate, don’t you?”

“Not the same.”

“It’s totally the same.”

“It’s not remotely the same!”

“We’ve gotta head out, kids. You’re with me.” Tyler interrupted you both, walking past you to get into his red truck. Realistically, you were pretty sure this was where you were going to be today anyway, but you also knew that you were going to both be in the back. 

Before Kate, you would often be in the back alone with Tyler and Boone in the front. When Ben came along for a little while, you would sit in the back with him if you were in the red truck, with Boone or Lily sometimes in the back with you. But, with Kate here, if you were in the truck with Tyler, you were almost always with Boone. If you were both there, you were in the back seat with him with Kate and Tyler in the front. Since today you were going to be running an experiment, Kate was going to be the one in the front seat since it was, after all, her formula and her experiment to begin with.

Once you were inside the truck, you sat as close to the middle as you could, and Boone always did the same. He liked to still feel more like he was in the front, and you liked to sit close to him.

"Sure, you don’t want any? It’s the good stuff.” His fingers were coated in chocolate at this point, and though you should have found it sloppy in some way, you found it endearing. He was always so genuine, and he was always incredibly excited to be doing what he was doing. You’d never met anyone who put as much energy and passion into everything that they do quite as Boone does, but maybe that’s just a part of why you’re so drawn to him. 

“If this goes well, we’ll be back in time for lunch.”

“But-”

“I appreciate it, you know I do.” You gave him a comforting pat on the head that he quickly swatted away; meanwhile, Kate and Tyler hopped in the front of the truck. The cameras were on regularly quickly, and whatever interpersonal conversations you were having quickly morphed into what they were on camera. Though sometimes you were certain that Boone was just a little more flirtatious on camera than he was off camera because you both knew that exaggerating your personalities helped with sales—and your relationship itself, whatever it was, helped with sales more than you cared to admit. 

Once you got to the sight, you always took a lot of joy in two things: one, seeing the storm itself since that was how you got into this line of work to begin with. But the second thing—the thing that most people picked up on when they watched you—was the way that you watched Boone. He was always a pretty happy person, but it was like his entire demeanor shifted when he saw a storm in person. No matter how many times he had been on a chase, he was always lost in the sight of it and the feeling of being there. He never once lost that sense of wonder or that look in his eyes, and it always made you happy when you got to be there with him and to sit it happening up close and personal. It just so happened that other people tended to notice that you spent a lot of chases just looking at Boone. 

As Tyler drove the truck into the tornado, you made sure to join in with Boone in amping up the viewers. At some point, you were pretty sure a good old-fashioned ‘yee-haw’ came out of his mouth, which you were more than happy to repeat as you waited for Kate to press the buttons that would release her barrels into the atmosphere. 

While Kate released the barrels, the sounds of your friends' voices explaining what they were seeing on the radar barely came through over the sounds of your voices and the tornado. It came in just enough for you all to hear that the height was dropping. Once the truck wasn’t being moved very much, the four of you stepped out of the truck. It was a bit windy, but it was greatly dying down. Whatever strength that tornado was going to be—and from the looks of it, you were certain it would be relatively strong—it was now a thing of the past. 

Boone always liked to celebrate at the end; you knew that. Sometimes that would be giving Kate a high-five for being the one to initially formulate something so powerful. Other times, it could be him doing a backflip, shaking Tyler, or the one time that he tried to dance with you much to your confusion. But each time, it tended to be something different. And no amount of these such instances could have prepared you for his initial reaction today.

It took you a moment to adjust to the feeling of his hands on your face, but barely any time to register that he had planted a chaste yet somehow sloppy kiss against your lips. Truthfully, you were pretty sure that Boone didn’t even recognize what he did until after he had done it, and you were both just left there, staring at each other with his hands still planted on your cheeks. But that lasted for probably about seven seconds, and he was gone to the camera just a moment later. You were positive that Tyler had recorded that, but you were honestly too shocked to even process whatever conversation he was having with Boone. 

“I thought you two were just friends.” Kate teased, approaching you as you placed the tips of your fingers against your lips.

“Me too.” 

Riding back to the motel, you were lost in conversation with the people in the front of the truck. You were going to need to be on the road again the next morning; Kate had gotten work about there being something big on the horizon across state lines. None of you were overly fond of going as far as she was proposing in such a short amount of time, but you were still going to have enough time to sleep at the very least. Joining in on a tailgate probably wasn’t in the cards for any of you unless you were willing to entirely forgo sleep just to do something that you had done the night prior with probably all of the same people, but you were still going to have time to have a meal before packing yourselves back into the car.

When that conversation ended, you knew you were close to the motel, but you also knew that you were left in silence. The moment you were, you were allowed to truly ponder your thoughts about your relationship with Boone. Even though it was a tame kiss, one that you could even consider friendly, you knew that it was something different. Because it was him, because he looked at you the way that he did afterward, because you were in love with him, because of the way that he had been looking at you since a lull in the conversation left you both to your own devices. 

He had kissed you, and you knew that he didn’t have platonic reasons for it. 

“Why do I have a feeling we’re going to need to pay for one less room tonight?” Tyler questioned, his eyes on the back, while Kate nudged and scolded him for making you both look away from each other like you had seen something that you weren’t supposed to have seen. Kate said something about “Look what you did” while you took note of the large crowd of people that were gathered right where you were about to pull into.

The moment you got out of the truck, you were all bombarded. Tyler was often the one who received the most attention, and it was no different today. But you noted the flock of people who came up to yourself and Boone, the way that everyone in your friend group seemed to have the same either excited or surprised look in their eyes when they looked at the two of you. Eventually, though, enough was enough in your mind.

Boone’s eyes were locked on your face in a way that was different from anything else that you had experienced before today, and you were certain that you were looking at him in the very same way. At some point, you just had to give in to your instincts.

Turning around, you grabbed onto his cheeks just like he had done to you and pulled him into a kiss. Boone immediately responded, an arm wrapping around your waist, as he immediately made the kiss a lot deeper than it had been earlier in the day. The feeling of his facial hair tickling your skin made you smile against his mouth, and your smile made him smile. The sound of the people around you taking pictures, talking amongst each other, selling merchandise, and chattering about your new relationship with Boone did nothing to deter you. You’d been waiting what felt like ages for exactly this, and you finally had it. 

Pulling away, you sighed as you rested your forehead against his. It felt like the world was a lot lighter now that you weren’t carrying the weight of wanting to feel his lips against yours on your back. But there was one more large weight that was really keeping you down, and you knew at this point that there was no sense in it any longer.

Those three words slipped out of your lips after a moment, and the giddy expression on his face translated into his voice as he told you the same thing. So you kissed him again, and again, and probably one more time for good measure before Tyler decided that you’d both probably had enough and were making the people around you—the people who were financing everything that you were able to do together—at least a little bit uncomfortable. 

But it didn’t matter to you if you needed to wait until later to kiss him as much as you wanted, because you had done it. You’d kissed him, you’d told him that you loved him, and you now knew that he felt the same way. Maybe it was odd to have been that close and been seemingly unable to communicate your feelings with each other, but it didn’t matter anymore. Even if you had some time to make up for, you were truly just relieved that you no longer needed to hide your feelings—that the edits and stories would now reflect reality, rather than just reflecting what you secretly hoped that your reality would become. 

Tyler’s theory had ended up being correct; they did end up needing one less bedroom since the two of you had decided to stick together for the night. But whether or not they made jokes or assumptions didn’t matter, because what mattered the most to you was right there in front of you. Plus, some little part of you had always loved that they all knew how much you loved him; maybe that was what made him feel comfortable enough to kiss you, and maybe that was what would make it an easy transition from being accused of being together to actually being together. But you weren’t sure yet, and you were beyond excited to find out. 

In the following weeks, it had proven incredibly easy to get used to the idea of being on camera in a relationship—some parts of it felt predominantly the same, but you also couldn’t deny that the slightly possessive side of your brain was just happy that people knew that you were with Boone and that nobody could—or would—try to make some sort of move to take that away from you. 

Your friends were supportive, albeit frustrated that they had to watch you both beat around the bush and pine for so long. The fans were supportive as well, and both of you ended up actually watching some of the compilations that people had made of your ‘best moments’ together. Though you finally deciding to actually go forward with the relationship did put all of the fans frustrated with your lack of progress back where they started to begin with, mainly watching the videos and the streams for Tyler. 

So, it allowed for a bit of calm. Even though nothing about your job was calm, and it was rare that Boone was ever calm, there was a sense of tranquility in being able to sit beside him during a chase with your hand in his, or to kiss him when something went right or wrong, or just whenever you felt like it.

As the day was winding down, about three months out from actually making your feelings toward each other known, you joined your friends outside at the dinner table at Kate’s mom’s farm. You had helped Kate and her mom cook dinner, while Dani had handled making the tea and Tyler had volunteered to set the table. Kate had opened up about this being a bit of a tradition with her and her friends before things went wrong, so you knew that it was important that you all pitched in so she wouldn’t be distracted by those thoughts of the past. 

As you set the food down, you moved to wrap your arms around your boyfriend as he snapped out of the conversation that he was in, his head tilting up from his seat as a smile covered his face. 

“Hey there, darlin’. Miss me?”

“‘Course.” You responded, pressing a kiss to his cheek and sitting down beside him. Throughout the meal, he kept an arm slung over your waist, letting you play with his fingers and rest your head on his shoulder. While you had always been affectionate with each other, it had always been restricted to anything that could be remotely interpreted as platonic. But, no longer having to do that, you finally allowed yourself to find true peacefulness in the chaos of your lives.

[spidybaby]

Delicate | Part One

Summary: A bad reputation, one contract, a very stubborn singer and a calm footballer was the perfect mix for disaster.

Warnings: cursing.

Face claim: Madison Beer (She's just the face claim. We are using songs from other artists too)

What are you supposed to do when the whole world is watching every single one of your movements?

What are you supposed to do when you feel like a deer in headlights?

What to do when your reputation is the worst?

That's the type of questions you make yourself everyday after what happened.

You blame yourself. "Maybe if I wasn't that stupid to trust people I shouldn't have, I would be fine."

But here you are. Trapped in a room with the people who tell you every single day that they told you, that you needed to be careful. And you are not happy but you took the I told you.

Do you deserve it? yes.

You thoughts were interrupted by the door being opened. You noticed the man that enters the room. A little tired, a little older than thirty five.

"I'm sorry about the time. Traffic was crazy." he says, hugging your manager. "Barcelona is crazy this time of the year."

"There's worst days." you manager says, laughing. "Y/n, come here."

You look at her, walking over to them. "Hi!"

"This is Hector, he's a friend of mine." she introduced you to the man. "He's the manager of two football players from Barcelona."

"That's so cool" you smile. "Nice to meet you, Mister Hector."

"Just Hector, love." he smiles. "I love your new song, so good."

You smile, thanking him.

"Where's your boy?" you manager asks. "I want to see him, so good he's better now."

"He's downstairs, some fans recognize him and asked him for pictures."

You look over at your manager, wondering what was going on. You try not to care and wait for this guy. You stay quiet while Hector and Aleek, your manager, talk very happy.

The door was open by a dark haired boy, he looks about your age. He was wearing some cargo jeans and a hoodie. "I'm sorry, more and more people were asking for pictures."

"Don't worry, love." Aleek says, hugging him. "You are so handsome, it's been a while since I've seen you."

"The last time was during my last game at Las Palmas." he smiles. "Nice to see you."

"Come here, love." she grab him by the arm. "Let me introduce you to Pedri." she says to you. "He's the number eight of the first team at the fc barcelona."

"Hola!" Pedri smiles.

You shake his hand, smiling at him. You still don't understand what are you doing there so early in the morning and what was the need for Pedri and Hector to be there.

"I know you are questioning what are we doing here." Hector says, standing up. "We are here to talk about a small," he pauses for a while. "Let's say a small feature."

You turn to see your manager, you are more confused than before, not understanding what they meant. How can you do a feature with him when you do music and he is a football player.

"In these past months we have register both of your activities on social media, press notes, work activities. Pedri, we know that you had a bit of a hard time with injures and with all of the rumors about girls." Aleek says.

You frown, why does that even matter?

"And you, Y/n." Hector says. "You had the success of a lifetime, you last singles were on the top of billboard, and you are even competing with Taylor Swift on the charts." he says, happy. "The thing is, you are known for partying, for being a not serious person to work with."

"That's no-" you try to say.

"Let me finish." he says, you nod. "You have a reputation that's not giving you the best times. Your campaign with Dior was over because of the rumors about you doing substance during Kylie Jenner party."

"What's the point?" you say. "Aleek, what is going on? I've never done any of those things, just freaking rumors." you try to defend yourself.

"I know that." she says, lifting her hands. "But they don't."

She threw a few magazines and some printed news titles. You grab them, you know you don't have the best reputation on US. Feeling weird that they are showing you this.

"Anywho, Hector and I have an amazing idea that involves the two of you." She smiles.

Pedri frowns, understanding before they even explain.

"We did a contract, a PR one." Hector says to Pedri. "The contract is that you two will pretend to have a relationship to change the rumours around. This will help how the two of you are perceived."

You shake your head no, "I'm not doing this." you laugh, standing up. "What gave you the right? We are people, what if Pedri has a girlfriend? what if I have someone? Where is our own will of choosing?"

"Pedri doesn't have a girlfriend," Hector says. "Pedri has groupies who mess up his reputation."

Pedri frowns again. "I don't have groupies."

"We," Aleek says louder. "are your managers." she smiles. "And WE will do whatever is necessary for the two of you to get back to a good reputation path."

You shake your head. "I won't sign." you say.

"I won't either." Pedri seconds you.

Hector laughs, "We don't need your signature." he explains, showing us a copy of the contract. "We have legal power over decisions regarding your brands."

"You can't do this." you say, feeling trapped. "Aleek, why?"

"Because, Pedri and you need this." she explains. "You don't want this rumors to make your album to flop. Do you?"

You shake your head, standing up. "I can't." you threw the papers on the table, walking outside of the room.

You run stairs down, feeling tired of the way people see you as a product. You don't want to feel like a normal person, being able to walk and not have a phone on your face.

You know that the rumors of you partying were creating problems. Even when you don't do any kind of drugs or anything bad. People like to pretend you are a junkie who pass the days drunk.

You slam the door of your apartment, throwing yourself on the couch. You cry the feelings out. Your phone is ringing, you ignore it, you know it was Aleek.

You try to calm yourself down. You hate to feel like a product of the industry. You hate to feel like an addict when you don't even live that life. You hate that when you asked your friends to defend you, they ignored you.

You grab your phone from your bag, answering without even looking. "Qué cojones quieres, Aleek?" you say, stern tone.

You were about to say more, until you hear the voice of Pedri.

"Soy Pedri." he says. "I just want to know if you are okay."

"I don't care who you are." you say, even more angry. "I don't need you worrying about me, Pedri." you say his name in this spiteful tone.

You were too angry to care who was it. You don't even think about the fact that Pedri was in the same problem that you are.

He doesn't answer, he knows you are mad and that you won't have the best answer to anybody calling you.

You then feel guilt, Pedri doesn't have to take the blame of what your manager and his did. "Pedri, I'm so sorry!" you cry. "I didn't meant to treat you like that. I'm not like this, I promise." you say, rambling a little.

You cry after saying this, sobbing and feeling even worse that Pedri took time to call you to check on you.

"Bonita, please don't cry." he says, softly.

"I don't want to do this." you say, crying on the phone. "I don't want to stain you with my reputation."

"You won't!" he reassures you. "I don't want to either, but I'm not letting you feel alone in this."

You smile at that, feeling a little bit better than you are less alone in this shit show.

"They actually already have something that we need to do." he scoff. "I feel like a fucking voodoo doll."

You chuckle at that. "That's a good term." you say to him. "I will check to see what's going on, thank you for reaching to me" you say softly, more calmed.

"Venga, don't stress." he jokes. "It's best for us to just do what they ask us. I know it's horrible to have to pretend and lie to everybody, however, I do believe that we can take something good out of this."

"Okay, I'll trust your words." you laugh, making him laugh. "I'm reading the text they sent us, I guess I'll see you."

You say your goodbyes to him. Promising to not keep crying.

You feel anxiety.

You know you have to be back to the studio to record a few songs. You don't want to, not cause of the way you left last time.

Aleek tried to contact you, she texted, she email you, even sent you a message over pinterest.

But you weren't giving up. You were mad and you wanted to show that to her. Even when you know you have to talk to her because you need to approve the album cover.

"Hello." You say, walking into the recording room.

Aleek looks at you, smiling at you. She knows you were mad but at the same time she knows this is something that you needs.

"Hola, bebé." She says.

You walk over to her, hugging her from behind. You needed this more than ever. "I don't like you right now, but I love you."

"I know you are mad, but trust me on this, okay?"

You nod, separating and walking over to the table where all the options are. You two start working on picking an album cover.

"I think this one is prettier." You say.

You hear three knocks on the door. Jake, you publicist walk in, an iPad in hand. He shows Aleek something, which she smiles to.

You don't paint mind to it. Knowing that whatever she's into, you would have to say yes in the end.

"Do you have like football, Cinderella?" Jake asks you.

You roll your eyes, knowing by your best friends boyfriend insta stories that tomorrow is going to be the clasico of la liga.

"Can I say no?"

"No." Jake laughs, making you pout.

yourusername

Liked by pedri, fcbarcelona and 2,383,385

yourusername first time coming to a game and we got a victory ✌🏻✨️ can I call myself a lucky charm?

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fcbarcelona 🍀🏆😎

pedri 💪🏻🏆

barcelonafan PEDRI?

frenkietupatron wait... he's following her and have been liking her post for over a month... Pedri????

"Do you even know how much I hate you right now?" You ask Aleek over the phone. "I was thinking about getting take out and rawdog my show last season."

"Now you can go out and see the sunset." She says, happy tone.

"I was looking at information about Pedri, and Hector did not lie about him having groupies who got him a reputation."

"Really?" She asks, curious. "When I met him he was such a shy boy."

"Well, not anymore." You laugh. "His last rumor was an influencer whose boyfriend apparently found them in bed." You tell her.

"Well, that's what this is for." She says, explaining again the purpose of the contract. "For you to drop the reputation you have, look at yours. Missing junkie."

"Ughh." You buff, mad. "I will require you to order me take out later just for that comment."

"will do." she says, chuckling. "Text me when you are home and to tell me how it was."

"Yes, boss." You laugh, hanging up the call.

You finish with your touch up of makeup. You added mascara, some brow gel and your beloved blush.

You move from your bathroom to your room, packing everything that you were taking, a blanket to sit on, your sunglasses, some sunscreen.

You feel the vibration of your phone in the back of your shorts. You See Pedri's text, he was waiting for you in the parkin lot.

You texted back that you were going down, to give you a minute. You press the basement button, texting Aleek a picture of you in the elevator.

When the doors open you noticed Pedri's car parked in front of the elevator. You smile at him and wave.

He was about to get down and open your door but you knockn on the wintond. "Just open." You chuckle.

He does that, unlocking the door. "I was going to open it for you." he says.

"Not necessary."

"Joder, que bien huele tu perfume." (your perfume smells amazing) he says, turning to you.

You blush a little at the comment, you love when people tell you that you smelled good.

"Gracias." You smile at him. "It's Armani." You say, making a face that makes him laugh.

"It's good." he smiles. "You can leave the bag on the backseat." he says, pointing towards the back of his car.

You nod, turning to place your bag. You notice a black box with his name and some barca design. You can see some letters, some pictures, notes with hearts.

"Someone got a gift." You tell him.

"Sip, these girls who follows me since the begging of my barca career came to Barcelona for the clasico and I saw them today when I left the camp nou."

You pout, you love how cute his fans were. "That's so cute."

You love getting things from your fans, it was a little piece of them that you get to keep with yourself.

"I have a Playlist on." he says, referee to the music that playing. "Here's my phone for you to change it."

"I like bad bunny, it's fine." You smile.

The rest of the trip was calmed, you two were silent, just listening to the music. You feel weird, you don't really know what to ask him.

When you got to the beach you notice that he was wearing a pair of sneakers.

"Pedri, you can't wear that on the sand, you'll ruin them."

He sees his sneakers, nodding his head. "I was going to go to my house and get my sandals." he explains. "But if I got home, I was going to be late for picking you."

You nod, understanding his motives. "Let's do this." You smile at him., I'll take my shoes off and we both can be barefoot."

He nods, smiling at your suggestion. You two take your shoes off, leaving them in the car. You walk together to the beach. You ask him for help with the beach towel.

"So I brought fruit, I brought some juice in a box because Hector told Aleek you don't drink and I also got sunscreen cause I can tell you are not wearing any." You say, pointing at everything you got.

You pass him his juice box and the tupper with some fruit. "I love watermelon." He smiles, eating the fruit. "Gracias."

You two stay quiet for a while, the two of you just enjoying the food and juice. You want to ask him something but you are not sure what.

"How was your day?" You ask.

"E'tuvo bueno, I'm a little bit tired because of the game and todays training, but I'm good." He explains. "Yours?"

"Oh, it was good." You smile. "I recorded some snips for my next album."

"I like your music."

"En serio?" You raise an eyebrow

"Qué va!" He laughs. "Do you think I'm a liar?"

"Not at all." You lift both your hands. "What's your favorite song of mine?"

"Underground, I like that song so much." You nod, smiling at him. "But I don't think you beat Quevedo."

"No way!" You say happily. "I love Quevedo."

"Favorite song?'

"La playa del inglés."

"No, que va, you are kidding." He smiles. "That's my favorite song too."

"That crazyyyy." You say. "Okay, what's your favorite movie?"

"Buaf, I think creed."

"No, you are lying." You say, looking away.

Pedri took a little bit to catch up on your answer. "Dios, Y/n." He smiles. "No way."

"I love creed." You say.

You two laugh at how crazy the things were. Because you did not believe that it was possible for you two to have that much in common.

"Do you have siblings?" You ask, eating some of the fruit.

"Sip." He smiles at the thought of his brother. "His name is Fernando, he's a chef and lives with me." You smile at that, you can tell he's very family oriented. "You?"

"I have one brother." You say. "His name is Austin. He lives in Tennessee."

"A little bit far." He chuckles. "Do you live alone or with your parents?"

"I live alone." You smile. "I have an apartment, but I think of getting a house."

"A house is better." He confess. "When I moved on here, I was in an apartment with my brother, and we felt so weird. Apartment complex are small and a little bit expensive for what you get."

You nod, agreeing with what he's saying. "Your brother is a chef, so you don't cook?" You ask.

"Not really." He chuckles. "My mom knows how to and my dad too. They own a restaurant, Tasca Fernando."

You smile at that, feeling happy at that confession. "Here in Barcelona?"

"In Tegueste, Tenerife."

"Right, you are Canarian." You say, remembering what you read. "You played in Palmas?"

"Sip, Las Palmas. They were my first big team and now I'm in Barcelona."

"I want to say that I love your style of playing, but I don't know anything about football." You chuckle.

"I can teach you." He smiles. "I'm kinda good at it." He jokes, making you laugh.

You two keep talking about more of your likes, getting to know yourselves. You find it very interesting how someone so quiet and so reserved has such a reputation.

"And the next home match is this Friday." He tells you, after a large explanation of how La Liga works.

"Are your parents coming?" You ask him.

He then changed his demeanor. He got a lot more silent. "No, they are not coming."

"Oh no, why?"

"Well." He thinks if telling you is the right thing. "Hector won't allow me to because we are supposed to be our and be seen and having my family will distract me."

You frown, not sure how to react but surely mad that his manager dared to tell him such a thing.

"I'm sorry," you apologize.

"It's not your fault." He whispers. "It's fucked up, but I know it will be worth it."

You stayed quiet, enjoying the sound of the people around, the music that you can hear, the laughs, the screams of kids playing, the small talk that's not understandable.

You then got the idea.

"I can help you see your family." You smile at him.

He lifts his head quickly, turning to you. "What? How?"

"Okay, what if I ask my manager that we can use your family for our pr?"

He thinks for a few seconds, confused about how that would be beneficial for the two of you.

"Hector says that you have a reputation on having a lot of girls, but have you ever introduced one of those girls to your family?"

"No!"

"That's what we can say." You smile. "If you introduce me to your parents and we are seen together in the public at a game, then that means that we are serious, it's more believable."

You smile at your idea. Feeling like a smart girl.

You can't catch the look on his face, but in his mind, he's thanking you a thousand times while lifting you in the air.

"I'll tell my manager tomorrow, I have to go to the studio." You smile at him.

"Would you really?" He asks, eyes shinning with hope.

"Si!" You smile. "I'll promise I will make everything I can to get them to be at these home game."

Pedri hugs you, thanking you for making an extra effort for him to be fine.

"Now, what if we go get an ice cream?" You suggest.

He nods happy. He would give you anything you want right now. "It's on me." He says, helping you get up.

"I'll agree just because I forgot my wallet." You laugh, making him laugh.

holacom

Liked by 12,482 others

holacom Spain Golden Boy Pedri González was caught on a romantic beach getaway with our Favorite Pop Girl Y/n.

The two of them are rumored to be having more than just romance. Fans of the two of them on social media X are pointing how she was at the home game and wearing the emblematic number 8 from Pedri.

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pedrilover35 isn't she like a junkie?

y/nxharry no 😡 that's just rumors

ferminmipatron I think she is because she's friends with the jenners and they are junkies too

y/nfan23 love this new couple ❤️ I need to get his jersey

sugarmelon I ordered his and someone named gavi 😎

messicomeback10 get a messi one

sugarmelon @messicomeback10 who tf is messi?

"Can you lower the volume on that note?" You ask your technician. "Yes, right there."

You sing the note one more time. Trying to make it perfect for layering it into the melody of the background.

"Okay, that's amazing." He says.

"Let's do the same with the chorus."

You spend the next hours doing that with other several songs. Trying to make them sound better and more effortlessly likable.

You thank Bruno, the technician. You worked with him before and you know that he knows your moods and your vibe.

"Lunch is on me tomorrow." You smile at him. "Drive safe." You hug him goodbye, walking with him to the elevator.

You press the button of the floor where Aleek's office is. You need to talk to her about bringing Pedri's parents.

You knock three times. "Come in." You hear her. You open the door and walk inside, finding her reading some papers. "Hello, baby."

"Hola." You smile.

"Are you done?"

"Yes, we got amazing beats." You smile. "Hey, I want to talk to you about something." You sigh.

She stays quiet, signal for you to keep talking an to tell her what's on your mind. You take a deep breath.

"Pedri told me that Hector told him that he can't see his family or bring them to Barcelona because that would be a distraction for our plan." You say to her.

She frowns, not aware of that. "I didn't knew that."

"I know, I just want to know if you can help me convince him to let him bring his family."

"Oh baby, but I don't thin-"

"I have a plan." You interrupt her.

She nods, making a hand signal for you to keep talking.

"So, I was doing my research on Pedri, I found out that he never once introduced his flings to his parents." You began. "And fans always say that on x, with every girl he's rumored."

You open your phone, sending her the screenshots of people tweeting that they don't believe that Pedri is with anyone because not one of his family members follow the girls.

"And if we can get people to see us together with his family, then get bag the football girls. That means that the media would stop seeing us as a fling or a fuck thing situation."

"Okay, you got my attention."

"And if we can be seen with his parents and brother, then after, we can start to post more about each other. Things here and there, discreet."

"Something private but not secret." She says.

"Exactly." You smile. "And what better than this Friday's game."

"That's in three days." She turns to see her calendar.

"Please, I know this can work." You beg. "We are doing this, all I'm asking is for you to help me get Pedri to see his family."

She narrows her eyes. "Fine, I'll help you convince Hector." She says, making you smile. "I'll show him all of these that you have."

You feel happy. You would help feel like this is less a forced situation but more like a small trade.

"Now go home, you need to rest for your interview with Vogue." She says.

"Yes, ma'am." You smile. "Bye."

You hug her goodbye and walk outside of the building. You drive home, listening to some pop for a change.

You get home and cook something easy for dinner. Watching some of your show whole eating.

You feel your phone vibrate. You picked it and see Pedri's name displayed. "Hola, camarón sin cola." You say, happily.

"Eres una jodida genio," He says. You can tell he's happy by the tone. "Hector called me and told me that he booked my parents' tickets for them to come a day before the game."

You feel happy that your plan worked. "Oh my God!" You say, jumping happy. "It worked, that's such a good news."

"Gracias, Y/n." He says softly. "I really needed this."

You pout happy. "Don't thank me." You say. "Go tell your brother or calm your parents to tell them. We can talk later."

"Vale, but I promise I'm making it up for you." He laughs. "Adiós."

You say goodbye to him. Watching your shoe for a little while. You can't help but to have a smile on your face.

You then remember that you need to post something from fenty beauty. Opening insta to post your picture with the product.

You let it there, you were focused on your show and on finishing your third plate of food. You then feel your phone get notifications.

>Aleek: kiddo, Pedri will comment on your post. Please answer.

Aleek: Let's stick with emojis for now. <

You check insta, opening the comment section. Pedri's comment was there, freshly made. You reply with two emojis. Letting people go crazy about it.

yourusername

Liked by pedri, fentybeauty and 3,273,482 others

yourusername Nothing feels better than glowing like a star with my Fenty Killawatt Glow ✨️🌙 Don't forget to get yours at @sephora_spain #FentyPartner ❤️

View all 253,382 comments

fentybeauty you are glowing ✨️

pedri 🤩✨️

yourusername ✨️🌙

pedrixferran hard launching I see 👀😦

frenkietupatron @pedri don't engage with her because the Kardashian curse might get us 😣😣😣

🏷: @gadriezmannsgirl

[chiscaralight]

hello ^=^

I really like your writing very much!

Can you write about Model!reader x mafia! scaramouche?

The idea is kind of strange but I can't stop imagining Darling as a famous model all over Teyvat who was in a toxic relationship with a famous actor but the media covered it up until Darling met Scaramouch by chance When she was in a bar and she did not know that it was his property because the Fatui is a dangerous gang known for its dirty methods

Or maybe she witnessed a murder and he had to avoid the possibility of her exposing him so he kidnapped her.

I don't know if you're comfortable with this or not but can you add a part where Scaramouche order Darling to lick the gun?

hi thanku sm! this is definetly out of my usual writing comfort bubble but I absolutely love the idea. i like both of your concepts so I tried to combine them. i also didn't directly make darling lick the gun bc of him, but it was definitely in their mouth lmfao i hope at the very least it works for you! once I saw the ask I literally went to take a walk to think about to do with it lol. but it was so so much fun! thank u for this ask<3

mafia!scaramouche x model!reader nsfw. its kinda long imo. gun play. mentioned assault, cheating?kind of. oral m receiving. fingering. mentions of blood tasting?, uhhh probably missed some tags but enjoy!

there's nowhere you can go where you're not getting recognized. granted, you're almost world famous. a gorgeous model that everyone is pining to be. perfect face, perfect body, in the sweetest relationship with one of the biggest actors. everything was supposed to be amazing! but that stupid man you call your boyfriend is making your life a living hell.

you're sliding the sleeve of your dress a little lower to hide the bruise he gave you earlier as you lean against the bar. the place has the perfect atmosphere for a lovely date night. too bad when that brute gets here it'll be anything but fun. speaking of which, where is he? you'd been sitting alone at the bar for almost half an hour and while he was an asshole, he knew how to keep to time.

so you decide to go outside and wait. it'll be nice to get some breeze after being cooped up in the atmosphere of the building alone will be nice before the inevitable change of tide. your heels are clicking down the sidewalk, masked by the sound of cars passing by and signs buzzing. then you hear it. it sounds like, shouting, arguing? it's coming from the alley up ahead.

you're trying to keep your noise to a minimum as you peer your head into the alleyway. there you see... your boyfriend????

he's on his knees, being held down by two men. there's a woman, who's frantically explaining how he tried to touch her, and that's when you see the crest on her jacket. your eyes widen. the fatui. they're insanely bad news. you've heard all about them through the grapevine, about how tight-knit they are and super secure. so why was the man who was holding the gun towards your boyfriend's head not wearing the symbol anywhere at all?

before you can even process the thought, the loud bang from the gun is ringing in your ears. you can't control the gasp you let out, and all four people that are still alive are snapping towards you.

your lip is sucked in between your teeth as you're holding back tears. the same gun that has been in this man's hand is pressed against your powdered forehead in silence. it's the other lady who speaks first, muttering something about how your 'man' is a criminal. the only words you can get out are:

"i know."

now scaramouche's interest has been piqued. he nudges you with the barrel of the gun and you're looking up at him through tear-filled eyes. you're a pretty thing like this, near the end of your life but still so composed and meek. you drag your sleeve up, and you catch the way his eyebrows furrow. the lady's head turns in confusion as you speak.

"the bastard has been abusing me for months. even if you kill me now, i'll die happy knowing that bastard is rotting in hell."

another wave of silence.

scaramouche drops the gun. he orders the two other underlings to let you go and dispose of the body behind you. he whispers something to the last fatui before she nods and helps you up. a breath you didn't know you were holding escapes your lips and she tells you to follow her.

you're back in the bar, but away from all the eyes of the public. it's somewhere secluded, the area calm and decorated as you wait. you don't know what for, but you're waiting. you expect to see the lady from before, but what you're met with is that man again.

you soon learn his name is Scaramouche, one of the higher-ups in the organization. you're both staring at each other again and in the blink of an eye, his gun is pointed at you once again from the other side of his room. he's not going to shoot, obviously. he's testing you.

and you pass with flying colors! your demeanor doesn't shake once. your eyes are locked onto his and your body is still. he's closing the gap between where you're sitting and him, and the tension in the air is thick. soon enough, the muzzle of the gun is mere millimeters away from your lips. he's looking down at you. and you blink up sweetly at him before you drag your tongue along the side of the barrel. he can't hide the smile that pushes against his lips. he's going to have so much fun with you.

your lips are wrapped tightly around his cock, sucking as good as you can while the firearm is pressed to the side of your head. he's sitting back on the sofa so lazily, watching as you bob your head so perfectly. he's wishing he shot that deadbeat boyfriend of yours weeks ago when he had the chance, maybe he wouldn't have had to wait for such a perfect mouth to suck him off like this. his free hand slides to fist your hair as he draws closer to his climax. the tight grip causes you to moan around him, and he's cumming into your mouth, cum sliding down your throat as he fucks his orgasm into your mouth. but the two of you are far from done.

your dress is bunched up above your hips, giving him the perfect view of the cunt he's bullying. he's thrusting into you hard, finger resting on the trigger as the gun lays softly against your tongue. he's groaning, reminding you it's fully loaded, and the only thing you give him in response is the small view of your tongue circling the barrel. you're the one with the deadly weapon aimed at you, but he's almost sure that you're going to kill him like this. how many times do you get to see such a doll like this, taking you in so well as their life literally lay entirely in your hands? your eyes are struggling to stay open and you're clenching around him extra hard, so he leans down to give you one word. cum.

the way this one hits you is unlike anything you've ever felt before. it's nothing but pure, unadulterated pleasure as you arch up into him.

when you finally come to, he pulls the gun away to aim it at his head. your eyes go wide as you can see his finger weigh down on the trigger. you're attempting to stop him, weak arm reaching at just as soon as he-

nothing.

the gun was empty the entire time. and the laugh he lets out is so annoying, that you're almost pushing him off of you. don't scowl at him like that. it doesn't fit that pretty face of yours. but he tells you not to worry! because the next time he has you like this, hell make sure the gun is fully loaded. and it'll be in your hands, not his.

[il-miele-che-scrive]

Drunken Mistakes

charles leclerc x reader x george russell summary: in the aftermath of a breakup, y/n and charles try to reconnect, but y/n makes a mistake, leading to a heartbreaking confession words count: 3k warnings: mentions of alcohol

The argument that led to Y/n and Charles' breakup started innocently enough. Charles had noticed his girlfriend was focusing on her job so much that they barely had time for each other. He couldn't remember the last time she attended his race.

"You never have time for me anymore." The man said. "I feel like we're growing apart."

"Me?" The girl scoffed. "Let me remind you, during the season you're in a different country every weekend."

"That's my job, Y/n, I am a formula one driver in case you forgot. But now the season is over and I want to spend time with my girlfriend."

"You knew what you were getting into when we started dating." Y/n argued, her tone defensive.

"You used to come to the most of my races!"

"Work has been tough, there's a lot to do." Her eyes avoided his gaze.

"Why do you care about it so much? It's not like you need money, I could buy you anthing you want."

"This isn't about money, Charles. It's about my career, my ambitions. I have goals too, you know?"

"But what about us? I miss you, Y/n. I miss us."

The room fell into a heavy silence. Y/n could see the pain in Charles' eyes, mirroring her own sadness.

Charles spoke after a moment of silence. "Maybe we're just not right for each other."

Y/n felt a lump in her throat as she searched for the right words. At one point she questioned if she heard that right. Charles was breaking up with her.

Charles regretted his own words, but his pride wouldn't let him take them back. He knew breaking up wasn't the only solution

Tears welled up in Y/n's eyes, but she tried to hold them back. "I never thought it would come to this." She admitted, her voice cracking.

"Sometimes, people change. Maybe we're just not the same people we fell in love with." Charles' voice was tinted with with sorrow.

In the following days, the space between Y/n and Charles grew wider, both emotionally and physically. They lived together, so the girl decided to pack her things and move out. It was hard, but not impossible to find a place in a matter of hours. And thanks to being hardworking, she didn't have to worry too much about the cost.

The problem was, she kept seeing Charles everywhere, in all social medias. Even after unfollowing each other, Y/n kept seeing news about him, pictures from events. The constant reminders made moving on way the more challenging.

In an attempt to break free from this loop, Y/n decided to put herself in a different kind of atmosphere. One night the idea of using alcohol as a temporary remedy for her heartache crossed her mind.

Dressed for the occasion, Y/n stepped into a bar. It was full of people, too many people for the possibility of being recognized by someone she could've known.

"What can I get you tonight?" The bartender asked as the girl sat down on a stool by the bar.

"Surprise me." She replied, a smile playing on her lips.

As the bartender began making a drink for her, Y/n allowed herself to look around the room. It was then that her eyes caught sight of someone familiar approaching her.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Y/n!"

George Russell. Not a close friend of Charles, but certainly an acquiantance of his. Y/n exchanged a word or two with him in the past, but didn't know him as well as she knew Carlos or Lando, who were closer with her ex-boyfriend.

"Nice to see you, George," Y/n sent the man a smile as he sat down on the stool next to her.

"What brings you here?" He asked, a curious glint in his eyes

"Needed to change my routine a little," she replied, accepting her drink from the bartender.

"How have you been holding up? Charles mentioned the breakup to me, but I didn't want to pry."

Not to mention it was all over the media, Y/n added in her thoughts.

Y/n sighed. "It's the reason why I'm here, what do you think?" She took a sip from her drink.

George leaned back, a sympathetic expression on his face. "Breakups are never easy. I can imagine it's been tough for you."

"It's the adjustment, you know?" Y/n continued, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. "Getting used to the idea that the person you once shared everything with is now just a memory."

The man nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I've been through a few breakups myself. It's never easy."

Y/n found herself drawn to George's charm and the way he made her feel understood. His presence carried some kind of comfort that eased the ache in her heart.

George on the other hand, catching a glimpse of Y/n's eyes, found himself captivated by the vulnerability. The girl let herself be so open, talking about her breakup and the pain it brought.

"You know what, Y/n? Let me get you another drink." George said, a playful twinkle in his eyes.

Y/n smiled. "Sure, why not?"

George leaned against the counter, engaging in a brief exchange of words with the bartender, later turned his attention back to Y/n. "I've got this one," he declared with a charming grin.

The atmosphere between the two of them grew intimate as they continued the conversation with another drink. A subtle connection lingered between Y/n and George.

In a moment of unspoken tension, George's eyes met Y/n's with a hint of something more, longing for an intimacy that went beyond mere conversation.

Their faces drew closer, the anticipation building up. Y/n had come to the bar seeking a distraction and it seemed she was on the brink of finding it.

A moment of silence embraced them, a comfortable one. One in which drowned even the ambiance of the lively bar. The music, still loud, became a distant background.

Y/n closed her eyes, preparing to connect her lips with George's. But just as their breaths mingled, George hesitated, pulling back.

Instead of diving into a kiss, George surprised her by leaning back and asking, "How about we continue this conversation somewhere a bit more private?"

Y/n looked at him. "Like what?" She asked.

"My place is somewhat close."

Y/n's curiosity and the unspoken tension between them pushed her to agree. "Lead the way."

The city streets seemed to sway gently around Y/n and George as they made their way to his place. The night air carried a cold breeze, but the warmth of the alcohol kept them unaware of it.

Arriving at George's place, the quiet hum of the city outside was replaced by the comforting cosiness of his home. The dim lights embracing them in a romantic atmosphere.

George turned to Y/n after locking the door. Not moving from the hallway, they smiled at each other. George walked closed, causing Y/n to step back and eventually her back touched the wall.

Y/n's hands landed on George's shoulders, pulling the man even closer. Their eyes met and soon after that, their lips connected in a short kiss.

A quiet, tipsy giggle escaped from Y/n's mouth. George gently grabbed the girl by her wrist and led her into the living room. Sitting down on the sofa, he placed his hands on Y/n's hips, causing her to land in his lap.

As they embraced the tipsy intimacy, the living room became a sanctuary for yet another kiss. One that lasted way longer. One that had their clothes scattered around on the floor.

Closed curtains successfully stopped the morning light from getting inside the room. Y/n opened her eyes. She slept wrapped up in George's arms, so she carefully detangled herself from his embrace to sit up. Of course she didn't drink enough to not remember what happened.

Although she wished she did. A mix of guilt and regret washed over Y/n as she looked around. The cosy atmosphere that felt so comforting the night before now seemed to emphasize the reality of the situation.

Her eyes landed on George who was still peacefully asleep. Y/n didn't know what to do, she's never been in such situation before.

Water. She needed water. Her throat felt like a desert.

The girl quietly walked to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of tap water. Somehow, her phone was on the countertop. She grabbed the device to check for any missed calls or messages left without a reply.

Her heart sunk when she saw missed calls and a few texts from Charles. What could he have wanted? Y/n hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to return the calls or respond to the texts. The weight of guilt intensified as she listened to Charles' voicemails.

Hey, Y/n, it's Charles. I know we're broken up and you probably hate me, but something kept telling me to call you. Call me back when you can, I miss you.

If you're not up for talking, just send me a text to let me know you're okay. I care about you and I want to make sure you're safe.

Y/n, it's Charles again. I'm not sure what's going on, but I've been trying to reach you all night. I just want to make sure you're safe

Y/n, it's Charles. I've left several messages, and I'm starting to think the worst. Please, just give me a sign that you're alright. I care about you a lot and not knowing is really getting to me

"What have I done?" Y/n whispered to herself. The guilt consumed her, overshadowing the moments of happiness she successfully looked for the night before.

Anxiety started to build up in her chest and her eyes were starting to get a bit watery. She hesitated, but eventually decided to return the calls, hoping George won't wake up to witness this.

"Y/n, where were you? I've been trying to reach you all night." Charles questioned.

"I needed some alone time." Y/n began, stammering a bit. "I don't have to explain my choices and actions to you, especially now."

There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line and Y/n could almost sense Charles processing her words.

"Y/n, we need to talk. This isn't fair to either of us," he finally said.

I don't wanna see you ever again, Y/n wished she said. Her words came out a bit differently however.However, her words came out a bit differently. "Fine, let's talk." Because no matter what she did, she missed Charles.

"Could you come over today? It's so, I don't know, weird to talk about it on the phone."

"Sure. When could I come over?"

"As soon as you can, maybe? If that's alright for you."

"Give me an hour or so, I'll be there." And with that, she hung up.

Just as the conversation was finished, George walked into the kitchen. He looked at Y/n with a warm smile that gradually faded as he sensed the tension.

"Morning," he said with a rasp in his voice, "are you okay?"

Y/n sighed, running a hand through her hair. She decided to be honest with George, he deserved it after all. "We need to talk about what happened yesterday."

"Yeah, about that..." he scratched his neck, "I don't want to give you any kind of hope or-"

"Wait, what? Was it meaningless to you?"

"Ah, here it comes. Well, I'm not looking for anything... romantic. Not now. We can do what we did last night more often, but no strings attached."

These words gave Y/n a sense of relief. "You don't know how glad I am that this didn't mean anything to you."

Y/n's confession hung in the air, creating an awkward pause between her and George.

"Are you being sarcastic?" He asked. "I don't want to complicate things further or lead you on."

"No, no sarcasm at all. Actually, I've just talked to Charles on the phone."

"Oh, and? What did he want?"

"He was worried, tried contacting me last night too many times. And... well, I'm meeting him today. He wants to talk."

"Ah, that's never good. Do you think he'll want to get back together?"

Y/n took a deep breath. The answer was yes, she did expect Charles to get back together. However, she didn't know if she should tell that to George.

Considering the silence on Y/n's side, George continued. "Do you wanna get back together with him? It didn't seem like it last night," a sly smile appeared on his face.

"I... I'm not sure, George. Charles and I have a history and there are feelings involved, but things have been complicated lately." Y/n replied, choosing her words carefully.

"Relationships are messy and figuring out what you want is important. Just be honest with yourself."

With George's words echoing in her mind, Y/n gathered her thoughts and headed to meet Charles. She stopped by her own place beforehand to make herself look decent.

"Hey," he greeted her, as he opened his door to let her in. There was an expression of concern on his face.

Charles didn't look better than Y/n that morning. His hair was disheveled, he looked as if he wasn't able to get good sleep in the past few days nor did he shave his face.

"I was worried sick," he admitted, "what happened? Why didn't you answer earlier?"

"Jesus, Charles, I was busy. Besides it's not very ex-boyfriend of you to call me a thousand times in a row."

The air inside the apartment felt heavy. In an awkward silence, Y/n and Charles settled on the couch.

"I care about you, Y/n. Damn it, I love you." The man broke the silence. "I don't think the breakup was a good idea."

"Well, it was your idea..."

"I make mistakes, we all do, but it's nothing that cannot be fixed, right?"

You're gonna hate what I'm about to tell you, Y/n thought. She could see the sincerity in his eyes and it made her feel so much guilt.

"Charles, I... I appreciate your honesty and I care about you too," she began, "so I need to tell you what happened yesterday."

Charles ran a hand through his unkempt hair. "I know we had issues, but I still believe we can work through them. I love you, Y/n, and I can't just let go."

Y/n took a deep breath. "Don't say that."

"Why not? That's the truth, I love you and I've never regretted anything as much as I regret breaking up with you."

"Charles, stop." Her voice raised slightly, but then she lowered it back to normal. "I did... something last night and... It was a mistake, but it happened, I cannot hide it from you."

Charles nodded. "Then tell me, but I swear nothing can change my mind."

"Okay..." Y/n hesitated, looking for the words that would hurt the least. "Last night I went out, drank probably more than I should've and I... ended up spending the night with someone."

Charles didn't reply for a long time, a mix of shock and hurt crossed his face. The room seemed to close in on Charles and Y/n as the silence stretched.

"You... you what?" Charles finally said, his voice a fragile whisper.

Y/n felt her chest tighten as she faced the consequences of her actions. "Charles, I know this is difficult to hear and I'm so sorry. It was a drunken mistake, I didn't realize what I was doing."

"Do I know him?"

"What?"

"Do I know him?" His voice raised. "If you told me you did it, you can tell me who you did it with."

Y/n hesitated, realizing the added layer of pain she brought. "It was someone you know," she admitted, "George."

"George? George Russell? Really?" Charles's voice carried a tint of anger and hurt. "You could choose any guy, but you decided to go for him?"

"I didn't plan it, it was a mistake and I regret it."

"And you have the audacity to come here, probably straight from his place?"

"You wanted to see me."

"I had no idea you fucked Russell!"

"You said we can work through our issues. It's not a mistake that cannot be fixed, right?" Y/n pleaded, her eyes starting to tear up. She was surprised she managed to keep herself from crying for so long.

"I don't know anymore, Y/n," Charles sighed. "I love you, but I don't think you realize the weight of what you've done."

"I understand, Charles. I truly am sorry," Y/n cried, her voice shaky with emotion.

"No, Y/n, just stop. I can't believe this is happening, I need time to process it. I think it's better if you leave."

Y/n felt her relationship with Charles crumbling beneath the weight of her mistake.

Charles's gaze was distant, the pain in his eyes echoing the depth of his hurt. "Y/n, I need time to figure out if we can move past this. Right now it's too much."

Tears started to slowly run down Y/n's cheeks as the reality started to sink it. "I never meant to hurt you like this, Charles. I love you and-"

"I need space, Y/n," Charles said with a heavy sigh. "I need to process everything. Please, just go."

It felt like a dagger through Y/n's heart, but she nodded. Deep down she understood it. With a heavy heart, she stood up, casting one last look at the man she still loved. She left Charles to deal with the aftermath of their mutual pain.

Each step away from Charles felt like a step into an uncertain future, leaving behind the comfort of what was familiar. Y/n couldn't shake the guilt and regret that devoured her, questioning if there was any way to fix what she had broken.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Ask Me Again Tomorrow

Pairing: Rockstar!Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.1k

Warnings: angst, forgetting an anniversary, feeling like he found someone better than you, fluff at the end

Request by anon: Hey can i request a rockstar Dean where the reader is her girlfriend and he miss them anniversary for some reason and never called the reader to tell her and she go mad and stop talking to him? Happy ending

Summary: Dean is a world-famous musician/singer who is currently on tour. Your five-year anniversary is coming up on a day that he is scheduled to do a show in Japan. What happens when he forgets to call you on this most special day?

Square Filled: celebrity for @spnonewordbingo (deleted bingo)

Author’s Note: i appreciate any and all comments! <3

x

The concert isn’t for another hour but there are already so many fans in the stands and on the floor. One of your favorite things about being in a relationship with a famous musician/singer is to meet their fans. Everyone knows you and Dean Winchester are in a relationship since you’re all he talks about whenever he goes for interviews. They’ve seen plenty of videos of you two together, and both your Instagrams are filled with each other. Your lives are private but you love to share him on all of your social media. You’ve gained a lot of followers since announcing your relationship but you don’t mind.

None of the fans are expecting you to show up even though they’re secretly hoping you do. Not every seat on the floor is filled but a lot of them are. Fans from all over the country grab their seats and mingle with each other, gossiping about the latest news about you and Dean. One girl from a small group sees you and visibly freaks so now everyone is looking her way. Once they see you, they get so excited to meet the elusive Y/N.

“Hi! It’s so nice to meet you guys!” you grin and give hugs to those who want them.

“Can I take a picture with you?” someone asks.

You pose with as many fans as you can, making friends and complimenting everyone on their outfits.

“I love your dress! You look so cute in it!” you gush to a fan.

“Oh, my God. Thank you! You look amazing!” she grins. “Would it be too much to ask if you can sign this?”

“Me? You want my signature?”

“Of course! You’re amazing!”

“Okay,” you smile and sign whatever she has for you.

You’re not used to people asking for pictures and signatures since you’re not the famous one, but it’s nice to be recognized. You’re with Dean all the time so all of his fans know who you are. Where he’s the breadwinner, you’re the stay-at-home girlfriend who takes care of the plants and pets. You don’t like working so this is a good setup for you two. You two talked over how this was going to work and both came to the compromise that he would make the money. It’s not like he minded. He loves touring, interviews, and making music with his band. Plus, with no job to hold you down, you get to go with him to different countries and see his shows.

Once you’re done on the floor, you head backstage where your boyfriend is. He’s sitting down on the couch tuning his guitar. The opening act is just about to go on stage so he has some time before he needs to go on stage.

“I found her!”

Dean looks up when he hears his brother from across the room.

“There’s my girl,” Dean smiles and puts his guitar down. “I wonder where you went off to.”

“You have the nicest fans,” you grin and sit next to him.

“They’re all women. Of course, they’re nice.”

Dean wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side.

“I don’t know, I know some women are monsters.” Dean only smiles at your comment and kisses you slowly. God, it feels so good to kiss him. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Winchester.”

“You know me. Give me ten minutes and I’m golden.” He pulls away from you with a sly grin. “Are you staying for the whole show?”

“Of course.”

You two relax on the couch as he tunes his guitar. As soon as the opening act is finished, it’s Dean’s turn to get ready for the stage. He and his band make their way under the stage so they can be lifted up onto it. You walk back onto the floor and over to the VIP section where some other celebrities have come to see his show. It’s also amazing to be friends with actual celebrities. You never thought you’d get the chance t be friends with so many of them.

As soon as Dean and his band are lifted onto the stage, the crowd goes wild. Dean is so happy on stage playing his music for people who make what he does possible. The smile on his face says it all, and you scream along with the fans. The entire concert is about two hours including the opening act which is more than enough time for Dean to get through many of his new songs including a few older hits that are played on the radio. He also plays his version of “Simple Man” as an acoustic set which the fans adore.

When the concert is over, you make your way backstage where Dean is celebrating with his brother, his band, and his manager for yet another successful show. Dean sees you enter the room and his eyes light up. He runs over to you, picks you up, and spins you around.

“I’m so proud of you, baby!”

He sets you down and kisses you quickly.

“Let’s go back to the trailer.”

“You have things to do after every show.”

“Not tonight.” He turns to Sam who only nods. He already knows what he is going to ask. “Thanks, Sammy!”

Dean whisks you back to his trailer which is empty. He has his own that he shares with Sammy while there is another one for the rest of the band. It’s a plan they all came up with since you’re usually with Dean and they really don’t want to hear you two on the road. You two stay in for the rest of the night as Dean shows you just how good it feels to be with someone who is good with his hands.

In the morning, you’re the first one up. The curtains next to his bed don’t cover the entire window so the sunlight on your eyes is what woke you up. You turn to face Dean who is still naked from last night’s activities. His cheeks are naturally rosy, his freckles dance across his face, it seems like his long lashes are touching the top of his cheekbones, and his mouth is slightly parted where soft snores come out. You could stay like this forever but you know you have to get back home.

You’re so much in your own head that you don’t see Dean open his eyes to show you his bright green irises. It’s still early so there is no one asking Dean to do things or needing him. It’s just you and Dean and that’s all you ever want. Dean raises his hand to push back the hair that has fallen in front of your eyes, and you grab his hand to run your finger over his calluses. He’s gotten a lot of them from playing guitar but you don’t mind. You like the roughness of his hands against your soft skin.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks in his morning voice.

“How much I love you. How much I wish we could stay like this.”

You lean up and kiss him, not caring that you both have morning breath.

“But?” he chuckles.

“You know me so well,” you smile. “But I can’t stay. I have to get home. Molly and Amber must be missing me so much.”

“Yeah, I know. I can’t keep you all to myself. I’ll be thinking of you, though.”

“Same here. Don’t forget, our anniversary is in a month.”

It’s marked for a day that is the same day as one of his shows in Japan but you have that weekend to do whatever you want together.

“I have it marked in my calendar. I won’t forget.”

Your small bubble of paradise has to end sometime, and when it does, you pack up your things to head back home to Austin, Texas. The flight is long but you’re kind of glad to be back home. Your big protective dogs, Amber and Molly, are happy to see you once you’ve picked them up from your best friend’s house. She is eager to hear stories from your travels so you stay at her house for a couple of hours.

“How was his concerts?” she grins and gives you some coffee.

“Really good. I’ve met so many fans and hung out with so many celebrities. It was insane! I even met Ryan Reynolds and his wife. They were so nice.”

“You bitch. Take me next time,” she jokes, and you both laugh.

“I wish I could be with him every day but I have girlfriend-household duties to take care of. For instance, these two,” you grin and pet both your dogs.

“Your anniversary is coming up, right? Any big plans?” Winona asks.

“I’m planning on flying out to Japan to surprise him the weekend after the date. He’s going to be in concert on the actual date. I’m taking him to a Japanese restaurant we’ve both been wanting to try. He doesn’t know I’m doing this.”

“That’s so exciting! Think he’s gonna do it this year?”

“I don’t know. I hope so. It’s been five years. I know he wants to do it but he might not since he’s in the middle of a tour.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. He might surprise you,” she winks.

The house is a bit lonely without Dean there but you make do for the three weeks. Amber and Molly are certainly glad to be back in their home with you, and you keep the house looking clean and better than ever. You’ll bring the dogs back to Winona when you leave for Japan next week even though you want to bring them with you.

You wake up on the day of your anniversary with a smile on your face. Today marks five years you’ve been with Dean and you’re so excited to spend another year with him. He is two hours ahead of you so when you wake up at eight, you’re shocked you don’t see a message from him. Every time you have a birthday, he’s always messaging you at midnight so he can be the first one to celebrate with you. He’s done the same thing for anniversaries but you don’t have a message this time. He probably spent last night partying with his bandmates so you’re not too concerned about it.

You get up, make breakfast, enjoy it in the sunroom, and do the dishes afterward. It’s a good day to spend outside in the garden or to relax by the pool so you change into your swimsuit and throw a light sundress over it. The day is spent in the sun and tending to the garden with beautiful vegetables growing. You might pick what you can make a hearty dinner later.

However, as the day goes on without a message or call from Dean, you grow worried. He didn’t forget, did he? You debate on calling him or not to see if he’s okay. No, if he forgot then that’s on him. The day turns to night, and you’re scrolling through TikTok for lives from his concert. He seems so happy on stage without a care in the world. Yeah, he forgot about you. Even well after the concert, he still doesn’t text or call you.

You go to bed with tears stains on your cheeks and a heavy heart.

You wake up the next morning and remember why you feel so shitty. Dean never called or texted. He forgot about you. You’re not upset that he forgot to tell you “Happy Anniversary”. It’s the fact that he could forget you. He’s out in different countries with his bandmates and brother, meeting girls in bars and fans on the floor while you’re back at home taking care of the dogs. You’re not with him while he’s out living this fabulous life. You’re pissed that there is a possibility he found someone better than you. You’re pissed at the possibility that he doesn’t love you anymore.

Your last relationship ended horribly and stuck with you even years into your relationship with Dean. He knows your fear of abandonment and he still didn’t call you.

You decide to head over to Winona’s house and hang with her instead of letting the silence sink into your skin. She is more than happy to have you over, and there is already a pot of coffee going when you arrive. She has a bottle of Baileys on the counter that she’ll add to make the coffees more spicy.

You sit at her kitchen island and put your phone on the tabletop. Just as you let go, Dean’s name pops on the screen. You quickly deny the call because you don’t want to hear his voice right now. Winona sees you deny the call and decides to add a bit of extra Bailey’s to your cup.

“Wanna talk about it?” she asks.

“He forgot our anniversary. He didn’t call or text me. I don’t even want to go to Japan anymore.”

“Are you sure that’s all that’s bothering you?”

“I don’t care that he forgot. I’ve forgotten some pretty important dates. I’m scared he’s gonna leave me for someone else. He’s out there partying with girls from all over the world.”

“Y/N, that man loves you. So he forgot. Big deal.”

She won’t get it. She doesn’t know the details of your three-year relationship with your ex-boyfriend.

Dean calls you again and this time, you turn your phone off without answering him. Winona is a good friend and she helps you through a lot, but this is something you have to deal with on your own. She won’t understand how you’re feeling because she’s never had her heart broken. She never stays with someone long enough to get her heart broken, and she’s the one who breaks it off. She has flings, which is completely fine, but it doesn’t warrant advice about something she doesn’t know.

You keep your phone off for the rest of the day until you’re about to go to bed. You turn it on to see there are fifty missed calls, over a hundred missed texts, and twenty voicemails. All from Dean. You don’t check the messages or the voicemails but instead, call Sam. He picks up on the first ring and explodes in a panic.

“What the fuck, Y/N! Why haven’t you been answering the phone?”

“Is that Y/N? Let me talk to her,” you hear Dean in the background.

“Don’t put him on. I don’t want to talk to him.”

“Listen, Dean is freaking the fuck out. He’s threatening not to do the show until you call him back.”

“Well, that’s not gonna happen. Look, something came up and I won’t be able to make it to Japan.”

“What the hell happened between you two? He has no clue what’s going on.”

That breaks your heart a bit. If he doesn't know then you’re not going to be the one to tell him.

“Nothing. Tell Dean he’s being a fucking idiot and to do the damm show.”

You hang up on Sam and turn your phone off again. You won’t want to hear from either of them, not for a couple of days at least. Dean can party with his friends and fuck all the women he wants to over there. The next couple of days are like this. You only have your phone on when you wake up and go to sleep because you know Dean will try non-stop to call you. You’d rather get cut off from the rest of the world than take Dean’s calls.

Those few days are spent with Winona since being in that big house by yourself isn’t ideal. Everything reminds you of Dean and the memories of being happy. She allowed you to sleep in her guestroom even though you two stayed in her bedroom like you were kids again having a sleepover.

Eventually, you had to get home so you begrudgingly walk up the front porch steps. You unlock the door and step inside. There on the floor are dozens of rose petals all leading to the back bedroom you share with Dean. On both sides of the petals is a line of fake candles to show the path you need to take.

You walk carefully to the bedroom to see a dozen more fake candles and much more rose petals. Standing in the middle of the room wearing his best suit is Dean. He turns to face you with a single rose in his hands.

“What are you doing here?” you gasp and step inside the bedroom. “You’re supposed to be in Japan. You’re supposed to be in concert right now.”

“I am so sorry for forgetting our anniversary.” You look at the ground as the feelings you have come rushing to the surface. “I love you so much. There is no excuse I can give you as to why I didn’t call you that night.”

Before you can say anything, Dean kneels to the ground on one knee. He reaches into his jacket pocket and takes out a small velvet box big enough to fit a ring. He opens his mouth to say something but you hold your hands out to stop him.

“Wait, Dean, are you proposing because you’re sorry or because you want to?” He doesn’t say anything to that which tells you it’s the former. You chuckle and kneel down in front of him so you’re the same height. “Baby, the reason why I was so upset wasn’t because you forgot. We all forget. I was scared you found someone else while you were off being a famous rockstar. I was here and you were there and I thought you forgot because you didn’t love me anymore. I was pissed at you for that.”

Dean sets the rose and ring down to grab your hands.

“Sweetheart, you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I wouldn’t be me without you. No one can ever replace you.”

“Are you sure?” you whisper.

“I wouldn’t cancel a show for just anyone,” Dean laughs.

“You canceled a show for me? What about your fans?”

“My fans wouldn’t be my fans without you by my side. You’re the one who pushed me into playing. I owe everything to you.” You lean in and kiss him on his full lips, enjoying that you can do this after so long of being apart. He pulls away and rests his forehead on yours. “So, that’s a no on the proposal?”

“Ask me again tomorrow,” you whisper and kiss him again.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[talentlesshuman]

i came to know your art from the illustrations you're doing for OL2 and just now your chinese miku was in the previews of the artists of tumblr tag and omg!! i love it so much, your style is adorable 💝 hope you have a great day, i just thought that was a fun coincidence

Aw thank you!! That makes me feel good :3 glad you enjoy my work✨❤️

I really love my chinese miku design but i gotta mention i didn’t grow up in china and I’m just chinese american! But some things i thought were missing from other chinese miku designs that i loved about the original brazillian miku were :

1) the incorporation of the flag (its very charming, and immediately recognizable!) and making a pretty simple design. A big thing i see with miku designs are beautiful and intricate, but they’re not very easy to recreate!

2) the modern/contemporary vibe of the character. A lot of international miku designs have beautiful traditional clothing, which is great! But i think the appeal of being something modern is that the people actually living in those places can see themselves in them. The original brazillian miku had flipflops, sports jersey, and a bikini! Which i don’t think are traditional clothing, but is emblematic of ppl who live there now!

This is where I lack experience, since I didn’t grow up or live in china, I don’t know the culture of casual popular fashion in china. For this reason I chose to incorporate some traditional chinese clothing aspects (tang dynasty suit and minguo aoqun) and altered the fit with some of my modern preferences :)

3) the recognizable personality in the miku! I feel one of the reasons the brazillian miku got popular was because of the confident/cool/laid back/somewhat chaotic personality she was given! I feel like a lot of mikus with beautiful traditional clothes have a very elegant, soft, happy personality, which is nice! But not super memorable. I wanted my mikus to stand out, so i tried making them very food focused 😋😋😋 I hope to draw more of them interacting to make that personality come out stronger!

I set out with these three goals in mind, but also I was greatly inspired by this DECO* miku design! I couldn’t get it out of my head when I saw it. if it weren’t so complicated + incorporated the flag, I would’ve taken it as the chinese miku from the get-go. The color palette reminded me of mahjong tiles, so I included the mahjong suites onto the sleeve of my design (as well as the panda). Its just so cutee.

Also, as an asian american, the biggest thing for me to see in media to make me feel represented is black hair and eyes, which is why I included black roots/dyed hair of my mikus. I recognize most of the cultures out there also have a majority population of black hair/eyes, but this was just a personal thing for me :)

As a final note, my friend @reidiantdawn who is also chinese american drew a chinese miku too! Featuring miku in hanfu, a popular traditional chinese garb.

Thanks for giving me the opportunity to lay out all my chinese miku design thoughts! This isn’t what you asked for, but I sure love to yap!

edit: ALSO with regards to my chinese-american miku, I went with a take-out box shirt design because chinese american takeout is pretty integral to american culture! Growing up, i saw that most people around me only recognized chinese culture through our food! :P There are jokes about that out there, but this is honestly probably one of our biggest cultural exports. The rest of the fashion is mostly like.... i guess just things I would've done if i were more confident lol

[pebblume]

I never realized how liberating writing fanfiction would be. I hadn’t written creatively in years. It’s been so long that I kind of forgot what it felt like. The childlike rush of pouring your heart out onto a blank page, not caring about the results as long as you were having fun. I’ve tried writing fanfic a couple of times, for different fandoms across the years, but never finished anything I was really happy with, nothing that I felt comfortable sharing with the world. But something just clicked for me this past week. I realized how much fun it was to stretch out my writing muscles, to get inside the heads of my favorite characters. I realized that it didn’t have to be perfect to be worthy of being shared and loved by others. I realized that I had so many stories inside myself - more than I thought possible. 

But perhaps what I’m most in awe of is fanfic readers. The people who read my work and leave kudos and bookmarks and comments - one word comments, sweet comments, silly comments, paragraph-long comments. I love them all. I used to be afraid of leaving comments on AO3, afraid I wouldn’t have enough words, wouldn’t have the right words, to depict how I felt. But when I felt firsthand how much those comments meant to me I started leaving more and more of them, spreading a digital paper trail of love to all my favorite authors. More and more often I recognize the profile names and images in my comment section and think, Hey, I know you! Now I’m not just a guest on AO3, or a passive reader. I belong here. 

I won’t lie and say I don’t miss drawing a bit, my previous creative outlet. There are plenty of drawings inside me too, itching to be realized. I really just don’t have the time for two time extensive hobbies, not when I need to balance school and practicing and little things like sleeping and eating and relaxing. I miss it, but not as much as I thought I would. There’s a level of investment to sharing a story online that feels…special. When I post my art, I get engagement, and it feels nice, but ultimately, most people are only spending about ten seconds looking at the work I spent eight hours on, if that. When someone reads my fics, we’ve now spent time together. You’ve lived inside my head for a bit, made it your home. It’s about feeling seen, I think. Writing makes me feel understood in a way visual art sometimes doesn’t. It makes me feel vulnerable in the same way performing music does, but less exposed too. It’s interesting to me. 

The only downside, if you can call it that, is now that the writing bug has infected me, I’m finding it harder and harder to stop. I’ll have an idea and then suddenly five hours have flown by because I’m on a creative streak and I just want to write one more idea down, which turns into two, and so on and so forth. I dread stopping, because what if I forget something? What if I get into a writing block later? Suddenly I have people who want to read the things I write and I want to provide it, I really do, but I also have responsibilities. I say, as I write this, ignoring my audition tomorrow afternoon. 

I still have a bit of embarrassment attached to fandom works. When I tell acquaintances that I like to draw or write, I rarely tell them I mean fanart and fanfiction. As if loving something that deeply, that sincerely, is inherently shameful in this age of irony and soulless remakes. Especially when my interests usually consist of media marketed towards children, nevermind the fact that it has more emotional maturity than most ‘adult’ works. But I’m trying to get better about it. A lot of my closest friends know about my hobbies, and some I’ve even let see my work. It’s terrifying but also giddying, seeing them like an art post or comment on a fic. After all, to reap the rewards of being loved, one must submit themselves to the mortifying ordeal of being known, or something like that. 

I realized today that I’ve written over 30,000 words in the past two weeks about about two characters who don’t belong to me, but whom I’ve made my own.

And I’ve never felt happier

[therabine]

We've got some new cover art and as someone who works in digital media and deals with AI content on daily basis this new cover for Troy Saga set off an alarm in my brain. Naturally I sank into an analyzing spiral, because that's just how my brain works.

"Looks like an AI art with repaints on top" I thought to myself, but to be sure I've checked it with different AI recognizing software (remember kids, if you use AI to generate your art, other AI can reverse engineer the process and identify it!). But so can a human eye most of the time. Pay attention to the combination of these identificators:

- weird blur

- different lines of horizon in one image

- bonkers anatomy/construction errors

- high contrast

- a lot of nonsense happening in the background

The results of AI checkup on the new Troy cover art were mixed

"Okay, let's check out the original Troy Saga cover, I like this one"

Yep, it has no out of place blur, the wooden horse's anatomy doesn't weird me out, the backgrounds look nice, deliberately painted with attention and care, I can make sense of the individual strokes. Good to know that my eyes are still good for something.

"Just to be sure, let's check out the Cyclop's Saga"

Okay, now it's proper weird. Maybe the Hive is off caliber? Wait five minutes, let me make a quick AI Thunder Saga cover art.

Nope, still works. What about other covers?

Fascinating! To be honest Circe Saga cover art doesn't look like Ai to me (all three animals are drawn with nice proportions and the lion is probably drawn with the help of Symmetry tool in Procreate, AI is surprisingly shitty at doing perfect symmetry).

Maybe it's the style of the artist that's confusing to the AI detector? Zwist seems to be particularly fond of whirlwind designs in all of her artwork (bad AI art often does weird stripes and whirlwinds, especially when you're trying to generate something which doesn't have a lot of references for it in the dataset that AI is trained on). Let's run Hive on her original artwork with a lot of whirlwinds and a wonky tree.

...okay. Now that is weird.

Look, I'm not saying that Zwist is a bad artist or something, using Ai isn't against the law and she clearly can paint better than I do. She is talented, go show love to her original artworks that are not Epic related. Hell, I can't even prove with 100% certainty that AI was used at all. Just because I don't like the new Troy cover art doesn't mean you shouldn't enjoy it too.

But the whole situation is fascinating to me. A lot of people on insta ask if the new Troy cover is AI, only to be shut down by fans who scream "no, that's just her artsyle and X confirmed that it's not AI, you are just haters".

YOU ARE NOW IN THE UPDATED PART OF THE POST

Special thanks to the people who shared the link to the new Troy Saga cover art speedpaint for erasing my doubts and providing a respectful conversation in the comments.

Watched through the speedpaint a few times, trying to figure why the end image became unsettling enough for a lot of people (myself included) to assume it's AI.

My guess is that Zwist has developed for herself an intricate decorative style, but isn't very familiar with so called 'academic' art.

Why do I think that? Well, I wanted to see how artists of the past depicted the wooden horse, and do you know what image you see when you type up 'Trojan horse' into Google? That's right, it's the giant prop from the movie Troy (2004). And you know, no shame here, using references to draw something you've never seen before is good, I'm just shocked I didn't recognize this design sooner it's very cool. What I really like about it is that it really looks like it's been made rather fast from the scraps of the broken down ships and yet it still resembles an actual horse. Look at the cute pointy ears! Look at the mouth of it! This gorgeous posture!

What's even better, it still exists somewhere in Turkey (well maybe not the actual prop, but the full size replica of it), so there's a ton of photos from different points of view. My best guess is that Zweist used this one as a reference for the new Troy Saga cover:

And here's a problem - this is a very complex structure to draw. Not only that, but Zweist also uses two light sources - moonlight from above and the light of the fire below, which means that we have two different sets of shadows emerging from these light sources.

Unlike all other covers that are very decorative in nature, this one is attempted to be very realistic, almost cinematic in its use of lighting. With all that extra complication it's easy to set yourself up for failure and get too much in the details while losing the larger shapes.

Unfortunately in her simplification of the original reference Zweist completely neglects all the intricate shapes and planes that make up the wooden horse. She forgets that wood cannot bend in circles like that, or that unpolished wood is a low-reflective surface (which means that even the lightest spot lit up by the firelight will be darker than the light on the sand/marble/metal coming from the same light source). It seems like she doesn't analyze the shape of it at all, so we lose the majestic posture and the shape of the horse head.

Just for the fun of it I used 1,5 hours of my time to photobash the reference photo into the original Zweist background. It's very rough (I literally painted everything using nothing but a standard Photoshop round brush and a computer mouse), but I think it gets my point across.

I'm too tired to redo the background and this post is already ridiculously long. But I think that it suffers from the same problems - lack of research and care. Those are just some random shapes taking up space. I get that it's supposedly a burning Troy we see around, but does it look like anything to you? I mean really? Again, it's just a shapeless mess. And all of that could be avoided with a bit of extra research and analysis. There's more to the ancient ruins that the same set of columns over and over.

So, what is can we learn from it? What is the conclusion?

Zwist is a talented young artist, but painting "realistically" isn't her strongest suit. You may like her style, or you may not, but I think there is a difference between "doing it your way" and "trying to succeed and failing". She may try to learn from this situation in two ways: 1) work around her stronger sides making the next covers with simpler designs and less intricate lighting or 2) practice the more realistic style and get better at it.

I don't know the exact reasons why the AI recognizing software flagged some of her work as AI generated. But I think that if it's not just your audience who starts to wonder if you used AI, but you somehow manage to confuse the very program that detects AI, then you've got a problem with your art.

If we want to beat AI companies in their game and stay relevant as professional artists we can no longer produce mindless art. We can no longer afford to produce sloppy work. As sad as it is, within next 10 years there is going to be a large shift in understanding and producing art as we know it. If the art we create can be easily replicated by AI or will look like it's been made with AI, then no one would bother to commission art from you. We have to adapt, to find new ways of exploring our creativity, perhaps even to create a new visual language of expressing ourselves.

In the end of a day human art always beats AI art. You know why? Because AI is not really Artificial Intelligence. It's just a very complex algorithm that is good at recognizing patterns. That's all it is. It doesn't have a conscience, it has no context for the human experience, it cannot think, and most importantly - it cannot invent.

So I want to end this post on the hopeful note - the art will survive. The artists will survive. And if we can learn anything from this situation is that kindness and open dialog is the vest way to deal with confusion. Once again I want to thank everyone who was kind enough to comment on and engage with this post. It grew out of love for something that is deep and personal to me (Epic) to a larger discussion of the changes in the world of visual art (something I love and care for even more). Hope this update spawns more nuanced and respectful discussion on the topic!

[rogersideup]

Nice to be Kneaded

Chapter 10

The Snap

Series masterlist

Previous Part: Doomsday Next Part: Courage

Word Count: 5,678

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Mentions of loss, grief, anxiety and depression.

Time and reality felt a bit unreal as you navigated the new situation you were in. One where you had to pretend to be strong on the outside all the while completely melting and distorting into someone you didn't even recognize on the inside.

So much had happened since Steve's departure from Greenwood and arrival back into the public eye in his full long haired and bearded glory.

The battle at hand against Thanos was now anyone had the capacity to talk about, and rightfully so. Everyone was terrified- so scared that stopping the flow of day to day life and staying glued to the front of their televisions with a phone in hand and social media on their screens for the fastest source of breaking news seemed to be the only way anyone knew how to cope.

Unfortunately for you, your love was at the forefront. And when the news broke that Steve Rogers was out of hiding and back into the world of avenging, the mass of Greenwood's population immediately recognized that handsome man as their neighbor, and the perfectly shy and respectful resident who just so happened to be best friends with the girl he lived next door to.

Gossip spread like wildfire through a boring, scanty place like this. You knew speculations involving you and your emotions the night he left was at the forefront of mouths of the people around you.

You could tell that was happening as you tried your best to cope with all the fear everyone else was feeling with the added layer of heartbreak and anxiety waiting for federal officers to come knock at your door and take you away.

Sometimes you just needed a breath of fresh air or anything to occupy your brain other than all of this. So you'd sit on your porch steps and stare at the lawns of your neighbors, each one was perfect groomed. Yours could use a little work, but hey, you had a lot going on right now, and the flowers growing on the bushes in front of Steve's house were such a pretty pink color, it was a shame he wasn't around to enjoy them.

Occasionally, someone on their own mission to clear their minds and get some air would walk passed you and shoot you a sympathetic look, or even worse, a friendly face would walk by and avoid looking at you as if you were the plague itself. After a few of those experiences, you decided to just go for a run on the trail.

You still hadn't gotten any better at running that five mile loop that you and Steve had tackled that one day in the summer. But the pain the running caused you still wasn't any greater than the pain of hearing your neighbors whispering about you as you jogged passed them in the opposite direction.

Being outside was too difficult, and being inside surrounded by news broadcasts and reminders of Steve scattered around your house was too painful, so you tried waiting your life away at the bakery.

It was the only place nobody could bother you. The doors remained locked at all hours of the day as to not force your employees to work, and logistically, nobody wanted to leave their houses when it felt like the world was about to end due to a purple dictator, so you hid away there.

Admittedly, with every order cancelled and no in store customers, there was nothing to do. So you just sat in all the cozy nooks and crannies you had created in the lobby with your own two hands and just enjoyed them for the first time ever. You watched movies, read books, kept the blinds drawn with the closed sign flashing in bright pink neon on the front door, and pretty much only went home to shower and sleep.

The stupid glass front door, the only part of the bakery that was visible from the outside looking in with all the blinds drawn. The stupid stupid front door Georgia could see you from when she peeped in and knocked.

You were angry she had disrupted your little corner of peace in a world that was on fire, and you knew you had no option but to get up and open the door to let her in.

Not a word was said as you reluctantly held the door open for her to enter, then allowing it to close on its own accord as you sat down cross legged in your favorite floor seating nook. You kept your eyes to the cushion in front of you as she sat and settled next to you, her stare felt judgmental but you knew this wasn't your best look.

Sweatpants and a hoodie, Steve's hoodie, but you weren't ready to talk about that yet. Your hair was very obviously air dried and thrown up into a claw clip at the back of your head, not a single lick of makeup on your face, your sneakers were left by the front door but at least your socks matched today. That was one small win you could account for on your daily highs and lows chart.

You gained the courage to look at her, and in true Georgia fashion, she looked great. But you knew her, she wasn't the type to leave her house unless her face was perfectly covered in the same makeup she wore every day and her hair was perfectly styled with not a strand out of place. Her shoes were always squeaky clean and her clothes existed in a whole different realm in which wrinkles and pet fur never existed.

"I haven't seen you around in a while, Sweet Pea, I've been worried about you." She stared, same sympathetic tone everyone had been using around you even in passing that you had quickly grown to resent.

You were now the naïve girl that fell for the magic tricks that Captain America pulled out of his cowl. Well, at least that's what everyone thought, and that's what you would allow them to think. If you had to lie straight to Georgia's face, so be it. But you would never say a single bad thing about Steve, she would never get that gratification she came to seek.

"Yeah, well" You shrugged, struggling to find the words. "I've been busy."

Georgia looked around, the bakery a dimly lit ghost town "With what? Romcoms and a bag of Spicy Doritos?"

"Easy to watch, always have a happy ending" You agreed. "Most of them don't take place in the middle of a universal war... and spicy is better than the original, so"

"I knew that boy was bad for you, I've never seen you so down in the dumps." She started earning a nasty glare from you. "Stop trying to kill me with your eyes."

"If you're here to say I told you so, I'm only going to try harder." You warned, no sprinkle of remorse in your tone.

"That's only half of why i'm here." She shook her head. "Just because I said I wasn't going to stick around to watch him break your heart didn't mean I wasn't going to be here to help you put the pieces back together."

"Who said I needed help?" You questioned, emotional regulation had completely flown out of the window. "You don't get to pick and choose when you get to be a friend to me. It's all or nothing."

"I was wrong for what I did." Georgia admitted. "I take full accountability for that, Sugar. But I'm worried about you, really really worried."

"Didn't seem too worried before we knew who he really was" You spat. "If this is a whole trap to try and get me to speak poorly of the one person on this planet you genuinely hate, well then I'm definitely not sorry to tell you it's not going to work."

"He hurt you, baby." Georgia persisted. "He was so manipulative you didn't even notice 90% of his life story right in front of your face. You said it to me before, there was something weird about him and now we know what it was. Captain America living in our neighborhood and coming into your home and your heart and you had no idea."

"Oh just me huh? I was the only clueless one in this entire rotten washed up town?" You questioned right back. "Sure, he had a secret but he was always kind to me. He was nothing but gentle and caring, so I don't want to hear anything about how he hurt me. I don't want a single peep of this narrative everyone in Greenwood has about him or me, or what our time together was like."

"If he was so gentle, why were you crying so hard outside of his house a few nights ago?" She questioned

"That was a few nights ago?" You rhetorically questioned.

"How long ago did you think that was?"

"Not important" You shook your head. "I was crying because he had to leave."

"Really? That's all? That's the only reason?" She continued to press.

"Was the news a lot to process? Absolutely." You confirmed. "But I was really fucking sad that someone I love so dearly was leaving to be thrown into a very dangerous situation. Wouldn't that make you sad too?"

"Again with the mouth, sweet cheeks, you're going to give me a heart attack"

"Again, I'm a grown woman, not a child."

"You did not love that man." She scolded.

That immediately put a sour taste in your mouth. "I'm sorry?"

"You we're attracted to him because he was handsome, and you liked him because he gave you time and attention. That's not love, darlin', that's not even a romance. That was a fling."

"Why do you keep trying to minimize my relationship with him?" Anger furrowed your brows and squinted your eyes.

"Because you love too much. Too fast, to hard. I'm being realistic." She insisted. "That was a criminal in your home taking advantage of your love."

"So was it a fling or was it my love being taken advantage of? You're being condescending. How could he take advantage of my love if I never loved him in the first place?" You called her out.

"Dare I remind you he's the number one most wanted criminal in the world?" She completely disregarded your question.

"And who are you relying on keeping you safe right now?" You asked.

Georgia sat in silence, too unwilling to put her pride aside to even come close to answering that.

"That's what I thought." You grumbled. "So let me ask you one last question. Are you here because you were worried about me, or are you here because you wanted me to hate him as much as you do?"

More silence, she wasn't budging.

"Get out of my bakery." You shook your head.

She gracefully stood up and made it all the way to  the door, and as far as pushing the handle in before she stopped. "At what point does this get better?"

"When you stop putting words in my mouth and speaking on situations you don't know anything about." You told her the cold, hard truth. "Especially situations you could know all about but don't because you pushed me away over the opinion of someone you didn't even give a chance to."

And with one swift push to the door, she was gone faster than she came knocking, and you pressed play on your romcom again.

That night you went home and took a long, hot bath. Relaxing music playing quietly, your favorite candle lit, and the lights turned off. Just existing at a time like this took everything out of you, so all you could do was put yourself in relaxing, non stressful circumstances to help keep yourself stable.

Although you managed to clear your head for a bit, your mind never stopped thinking of Steve. All you could do was wonder where he is and what he was up to. You hoped he was safe, and unharmed, you hoped he was doing okay, and feeling okay.

For his sake and everyone else's, you hoped that the group of Avengers would figure it out soon. But for your sake, you hoped it would all be done and over with so maybe you could just hear his voice over the phone, you would even be okay with a letter in your mailbox or an email from a decoy account. Just anything, really anything at all to know he was alright.

Just when you started to feel a little better about the whole thing, the blip happened.

You'd never forget the chill deep in your bones the moment it happened, the rumble in the sky that rattled the ground. For a moment, your windows shook. Then, you heard chaos from outside. Crashing, honking car horns, shouting, screams of terror, sobbing.

Your heart dropped to your stomach and you bolted out of the front door, completely missing the way the news anchors turned to dust on the TV as you ran off your porch and into your driveway.

It looked to be just as chaotic as it sounded, a car crashed into a street lamp with nobody the driver's seat, neighbors all frantically asking if they've seen other neighbors that have seem to have gone missing, screams for help coming from people running inside. Then you saw it with your own eyes, Andy from two doors down running up to you, quickly as he could.

"Andy, Andy what's going on?" You asked, eyes bulging out of your head, hands shaking, your legs threatening to buckle underneath you. You had never been this scared in your entire life.

"Phoebe and Willow" He explained frantically, both his hands reached out and grabbed onto your shoulders. You recognized the name of his wife and infant daughter. "They were here just a second ago I swear, I was holding her she was giggling then they just disappeared, dissolved"

"What- what do you mean? Dissolved?" You questioned frantically, he couldn't pull himself together, and that scared you even more.

"I don't want that to happen to me. I'm scared, they just, went away."

"Okay, okay" You nodded, grabbing onto his forearms. "What's happening? Do you know anything about this?"

"No, no, I'm scared. Everyone is dying, they're gone. I don't want it to happen to me"

"It's okay, you're okay" You tried to calm him down regardless of your own internal terror. You looked around to try and find any solution, any ounce of comfort.

Then you noticed people drifting away with your own eyes, bodies slowly turning to dust that would flutter to the floor and blow away in a gust of wind.

"I feel so weird" Andy said, you looked back at him while tightening your grip on his arms.

"It'll be okay" You nodded, trying to convince yourself of that too.

Then, his face and body completely relaxed and the arms that were once in your hands vanished before your eyes leaving nothing but air in its presence.

That's when you started running. Jogging at first, then sprinting. House to house, person to person, helping where you could. There were people with injuries all around due to people fading away in dangerous situations.

You ran up to and turned off a lawnmower that was once being operated by a person who vanished, you helped an older lady up off the floor who was very gently struk by the car before it it the street lamp, then you ran into Andy and Pheobe's house to make sure that their stove was off, and things like hair straighteners and candles were off and not hazardous. You looked out for newly stray dogs and cats, maybe even kids looking for their parents.

All the while you were terrified of vanishing yourself, but in a moment like that it was imperative to help until you couldn't anymore.

It wasn't until a full 24 hours later that you were sure you weren't going to go anywhere, that's when the news started reporting more reliable information about what had really happened.

Although no accurate or official census had been taken in such short notice, they predicted half the population of earth had been blipped. Just completely turned to dust at the hands of Thanos. Then two days later footage had been released of the Avengers and the moments leading up to the blip.

It was incredibly hard to watch the footage, it came with every warning under the sun before they played it on any screen, or any platform.

They all tried with all of their might, and in the footage they all seemed exhausted. Wanda trying her hardest to destroy the mind stone in visions head while everyone else tried to keep Thanos away from it.

The hulk went straight through him, T'challa tried but he was no match, War Machine was thrown way far off to the side, Bucky came shooting but he was also tossed off, Natasha, Groot, then Steve slid in on his knees.

You wanted to look away, you wanted to cover your eyes, you knew you shouldn't watch it anymore, but the moment you saw him you just couldn't stop peaking between your fingers.

There was a large gash on his forehead, his skin was littered with dirt and little shields on each of his arms with what looked like claws coming out of the bottom. He got close enough of stab him in the leg with the claws, then upper cut his jaw with his fist in that splitting moment of pain. You were rooting for him as he caught the Gauntlet in his two hands and tried pulling it off with all of his might, then came the part you wish you never saw.

Thanos punched him right in the face, so hard that Steve immediately fell face down to the floor and didn't move a single muscle. You felt like you were going to throw up as Wanda kept him at bay with one hand, and destroyed the stone with the other. Then, Thanos reversed time, got the stone, and snapped before the footage cut out.

You almost screamed at the screen for more, you just needed some proof that Steve was alive because he looked pretty lifeless after getting sucker punched by a titan. You watched him fall to the floor over and over and over again trying to find any movement of his body, any teeny sliver of hope that he was alive and out there somewhere.

Then came the google searches, you searched his name every few minutes to see if there was any news of his status of being. Alive or dead, you needed to see proof. But it never came.

That's when you hit your lowest point, for weeks you were glued to your laptop just trying to find any ounce of hope. For Steve's life, and for the world in general. But this time you were less apologetic about your state of being, this was the greatest tragedy of history and your love might've been dead.

So yes, you were going to cry over a bowl of ice cream in bed... for a week in a row... with no pants on.

When you thought things couldn't get worse, they did. After not being able to get into contact with your Mom since the blip, one of her friends reached out to you on Facebook and confirmed she was one of the dusted. Half of your employees were gone, and you loved them all with your whole heart.

Eventually the world around you started to get back on its feet a bit more every day. Businesses rebuilt, fires were put out, people found strength and comfort in community.

At some point you felt the same way as well. You'd leave you house a bit more each day, and escaped in trying your hardest to reopen the bakery. It still wasn't the most practical time to open the doors and start the ovens again, but you just really, really missed it. Baking had been your outlet for stress relief and control for most of your life, and this was the first time you didn't immediately turn to it the second things went bad.

So, instead of tying your apron on and preheating an oven, you preheated the business instead. You completely overhauled and gave the website a facelift. Spent hours searching for and writing new recipes that you'd eventually test bake. You overhauled the business model, took a head count of you employees that were still around and had long conversations about their willingness and readiness to work again.

Everyday you tried to sit on your porch for a bit of sunshine, but even with the sun out a chill never left your bones. You spent most mornings on the chair tucked away in the corner, angled away from Steve's house because every time you looked at it, it was nothing but a painful reminder of his unaccounted status of being.

It didn't help that someone hung a sign on the front of his garage door. It read The Greenwood home of the great Captain America. A big star painted right below the words. Residents would come by and leave notes around it, some on pages of loose leaf notebook paper, some on brightly colored neon construction paper. Pooled on the ground in front of the garage and below the sign was what looked like a vigil. Bouquets of flowers laid amongst plastic toy shields, family photos in matching Captain America shirts and kids dressed in costumes, candles, and teddy bears.

You didn't know what the notes said or if any of those flowers were even alive anymore, but you did know that every time you had worked yourself up to even go look at what anyone in Greenwood or neighboring towns had to say to your sweet Steve, your legs would lock up before you could even make it up the driveway.

A lump would form in your throat, panic would spread from your heart all throughout your body, leaving red splotches all over your chest. Your mind couldn't get passed the fact that it looked like a memorial. If you didn't know any better, you would've believed that news sources all around the world had confirmed his death and all the folks around here were paying their respects.

You could see a few letters from the sidewalk in front of his house. Some of them read thank you in big, bold letters. So that's what you were trying to convince yourself of. Steve was simply being thanked for his service.

Although the mental block of Steve's busy driveway remained, you found that you could go into his house as you promised you would if you just kept your eyes to the floor while approaching the front door and didn't look up until you had unlocked it.

You tried your absolute best to keep his house in good shape, even his front lawn that was frequented by fans of his from whenever they were traveling from. Everyone's lawns were now a big haphazard. You could tell exactly which homes were unoccupied now, the grass was tall and the weeds were taller. Again, yours could use some work but a few wildly wispy rose bushes were the least of your concern.

Another bowl of cookies and cream, more googling, more staring at the framed picture on your wall, another night of the same devastation.

You looked at that painting every single night, the grass field was so beautiful, he captured it so perfectly. At the time, sitting there with him was so simple and now it seemed as though there would never be enjoyment in anything again.

An unusual thought occurred to you as you admired it that night, for some reason you just wanted to touch his name sighed on the back. Maybe you just wanted to feel close to him when it felt like he was no longer even in the same world as you, maybe you had finally lost your mind.

You crawled across your bed and reached for it on the wall. Taking it off the hook and popping open the back of the beautiful frame, to your surprise when the back panel was removed there was a note shoved between the canvas and the frame.

Frantically, your fingers unfolded it as fast as they could to reveal Steve's adorable handwriting.

Sunflower,

If you're reading this, that means I've probably been gone from Greenwood for awhile. I'm writing this on your kitchen island the day I have to leave, you're at work right now so I'm sorry I snuck in. The second I'm done writing this, I'm going to hide it for you to find hopefully when you need it the most.

Did I have the courage to tell you that I love you in person before I left? If not, I'm sorry. Also, surprise! Loving and knowing you was one of the most privileged experiences I've ever been given the opportunity for, and I cherished every moment you were by my side. You made a colossal impact on some of the most painful, yet malleable years of my life. I'm not quite sure I'll ever be able to string together the proper words to express my gratitude, but I am incredibly grateful to have ever been yours.

I hope you're doing well, and I hope we did everything we could to keep you safe. Sometimes things get touchy, distance makes our minds wander and fill with doubt, but please know that no matter what happens, I'll never stop thinking of you. You're always on my mind, and that's something I'm in no rush to ever change.

You have forever friends in the Avengers, and the moment this all settles I promise you'll reap the benefits. Your kindness will come back around, you deserve nothing but the best, my love.

But in the meantime, if you need us. If you need me. If you need anything, I'll be there.

All my heart,

Steven G Rogers.

(678)-136-7092

(Ps; I don't care how long it's been, call me when you can. This phone line is just for you, sweet girl. If I don't pick up, I'll call back the second I can.)

You cried as you clutched that note to your chest and determined your mind had officially been lost. If you had found this just a few days ago, your phone would've been flying towards your hand as if it was the strongest magnet in the world, your fingers would type in the number and it would be ringing faster than you could've even read the note.

But that was not the case, because you had found it today. Today when you let the thoughts of his possible demise sit in your head just a little too long and allowed it to sink in as a real possibility. So now, if you called the number and there was nothing but a ringtone and being asked to leave a voicemail, you'd have your answer as to what happened to him.

You weren't ready for that yet. Every waking moment of every dragged out day felt like nothing but survival. At this stage in trying to get back up on your feet, anyone really needed to do their best to protect their hearts from more loss and more pain. So, you folded that paper back up and tucked it between the painting and the frame and hung it back up on the wall.

The very thought of calling him remained on the forefront of your mind and the center of your heart for almost one full month before you had a particularly good day.

A few of your employees expressed that they missed you and the bakery, so you opened the doors for them. You all spent hours baking with each other and finally decided it was time to reopen the doors for good. So you sat down and made the plan, wrote up a schedule, posted an opening date. You felt hopeful for the first time in a while, so you decided you'd call Steve once the reopening happened.

The week in between posting the reopening date and the actual opening day, major news outlets started reporting on Nice to be Kneaded, because Captain Americas favorite bakery is opening back up for business.

Turns out everyone wanted a bite of Steve's favorite sweets, and on opening day there was a line wrapped around the building and the parking lot was completely full before you even got there at 4 in the morning.

It was hectic therefore after. With only half the staff and an infinite line of customers, and news press constantly harassing you on the daily to try and interview you about your time with the Avenger, you found yourself exhausted constantly.

You baked overnights and all morning long to try and keep up with the demand, but not even a 50 to 60 hour workweek was enough to keep up with it all, it was just simply too overwhelming.

Understanding that you needed some time for yourself as to not burn out too fast, you took a night off. The night you were going to call Steve. 

You planned on it, you even got the note out, held your phone in your shaky hands for a while. You turned on your comfort show, sat on the couch and stared at the screen. You thought of that night when Steve came over and fell asleep on you, the first time you cuddled. You thought of maybe cleaning up a bit first, there were some dishes in the sink and your coasters were scattered along the table.

But after some pacing and mind work, you just had to do it.

You typed in the numbers one by one, took in a big shaky breath, then pressed call.

Each ringtone felt like a stab to your gut, and each one felt longer than the previous. Every second was like a big footstep through heavy mud, guiding you towards the answer you desperately needed.

Just as one ring stopped and another one about to sound, there was heavy pounding on your door. It made you fly up and out of your spot on the couch in absolute panic, phone landing on the rug below the couch.

You didn't even have time to make it to your front door to even answer the damn thing before it was busted open, and what felt like an entire army of big men in tact suits came rushing at you with weapons drawn.

Of course you knew what you did, you understood the crime you committed, but you also knew this was too much.

If the time ever came you were expecting a few cop cars, maybe even the FBI. But this? It was so terrifying and sudden that you fell straight to the floor. As they shouted out you to comply, all you could do was cover your ears and cry.

If there's one lasting impression your last partner made in your life, it was the fear of men. Especially big men shouting angrily and reaching for you.

Two men in unmarked black tact suits pulled you up by your arms while one watched, the other 6 surrounding with fully loaded weapons leaving red laser dots all over your body. The moment you were lifted onto your feet, the backs of your knees were kicked in, forcing a harsh landing onto the fronts of your knee caps into a kneel.

They all shouted so loudly and all over each other that you couldn't make out the words of any one individual in the room, nor could you hear them reading your rights to tell you they were going to hand cuff you.

Once your hands were cuffed behind your back, you were aggressively yanked up once more, than they all went silent except for who you assumed was the leader of whoever these people were.

He shouted at you to stop crying, and as they pushed and pulled you out of your house and towards an black unmarked van, he shouted at you to stop tripping over yourself. But the funny part was when you asked who these people were with, or where you were going and what they we're going to do with you, he was oddly silent.

As you stumbled over your own two feet with the barrel of a gun pressed into your spine and pushing you forward, you could feel an extra pair of eyes on you. So you looked up and across the way.

None other than Georgia, leaning over the railing of her front porch, mug of tea in her hand. She sipped it slowly like this was a form of entertainment. When your crying eyes met hers, she almost seemed happy to see you that way. 

You could tell she was the one who called to report you, you could see it in her small sinister smirk. All you could think of while they quite literally pushed you into the back of the van was that it was a shame that would be the last familiar face you'd see for a while.

The van doors were slammed shut, a guard in full scale armor and a helmet sat in the corner with a gun ready to go, and the lead guy pounded on the doors twice to signal it was ready to leave.

The only thing scarier than the arrest itself was feeling the van pull off the driveway, and knowing that somewhere inside your home was the result of a phone call you never got to know.

But the biggest shame of all? A voice you completely missed amidst the chaos echoing from where your phone fell below the couch.

"Hello?"

"Hello? Sunflower, are you there?"

"What's happening?"

Next Part: Courage

Tag List: @patzammit @bemysugarbean @buckymydarlingangel @happinessinthebeing @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @differenttyphoonwerewolf @themotherof10 @lokislady82 @talesofadragon @spikeluv84 @xxxalicerogersxx @Avid-fic-reader-05 @royalwriteroftheuniverse @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bitchy-bi-trash @crazyunsexycool @openup-yourmind @selella @kattreffic @benedict-squirtle @magnificentsaladllama

Have any thoughts or theories? Head cannons or scenarios you want me to write of nomad Steve and baker reader? Submit them to my inbox! I’ll add them to the more fun stuff masterlist here!

[crepe-of-wrath]

Shouta Scarf Saturdays

Notes/Warnings: 18+, fem reader, this didn't start out this way but it now feels like it belongs in the same Betten Court-inspired Aizawa Never Became a Teacher AU as this popular entry from the Shouta Scarf Saturday series.

You angrily pressed the End Call button as hard as you could, stupidly hoping that the HPSC representative on the other end would somehow feel your annoyance. Aizawa's latest mission was apparently interminable...

The solitude was driving you insane. You had started to take on the habits of a scared pet with separation anxiety. The bed that Shouta should be sharing with you was littered with various pieces of his clothing and even one of his spare capture weapons, which you regularly wound around yourself at night. You stared at your phone, half annoyed and half grateful that it wasn't giving you any notifications, as you had it set to let you know if Shouta's name appeared in the news or in viral posts on social media.

You desperately tried to distract yourself. You had been doing exercise for about 15 minutes when your phone dinged. Your heart skipped or stopped or something and you immediately abandoned your routine to check it out.

Your entire body crumpled inward in relaxation when you saw it was just a fanvid: Eraserhead Takedown Moments Compilation (Updated June). What was strange was the account name. Tres5711 was not a name you recognized, and this was their first video. It was always nice to see more people appreciating your partner.

The video opened with a couple of the same clips that these compilations always used--you couldn't really blame anyone, as it wasn't like Shouta left people a lot to work with. (Though you could blame them for always using the same shitty genres of music, you thought to yourself as you went for the mute button.) But, there was no such thing as too much watching Shouta's capture weapon in action, even if the soundtrack did leave something (a lot) to be desired.

After about three minutes, the quality of video improved markedly. For half a second, you wondered who on earth had the equipment necessary to take such good clips in the dark, but that thought was crowded out and overpowered by pure lust. These clips showed off how Shouta's powerful frame flexed in the dark, how the tendrils of his hair floated when he ran, and the cat-like grace with which he moved anywhere he wanted. And they also showed, in exquisite detail, criminal after criminal being wrapped up tightly in his weapon.

In some clips, Shouta yanked them to the ground, and, in one or two, he even placed a foot on them in a gesture of dominance and control. For half a heartbeat, you were envious of them. The lighting for these clips was so good you could even see how he smiled and smirked while he was on the hunt. It was scorching hot.

You were somewhat cognizant of the fact that, for the last five minutes or so, you'd been essentially rolling around on Shouta's clothes and gotten one of your toys out, but you honestly didn't even remember actually trying to tie up your own wrists. That brought you back to a more sober reality for a moment and, grunting in frustration, you tried to undo your work so you could get out of your clothes.

You were down to your underwear and t-shirt when you heard the door to the apartment open. Calm as you like, you activated your second set of eyes, stepped out into the hallway, and called out--authoritatively, or so you hoped--"This is the Pro Hero Panopticon. Announce yourself."

The response could have knocked you over with a feather: "Good evening to you too, my sweet little kitten." Aizawa appeared at the other end of the hallway in full kit. You were vaguely aware that your mouth was hanging open, but you were somehow powerless to do anything about it.

"Sh-Shouta? I just--the HPSC said--" Your voice trailed off as he walked toward you slowly, raking his eyes up and down your half-clothed body.

"That I'm supposed to still be on my mission? Well, they're right, but let's just say work had me close by tonight, so I thought I'd come say...hello."

"Is that--are you--?" He was almost close enough to wrap in your arms, and he was giving off the most powerful and intense energy. You honestly were struggling to talk.

"No, Angel," he said, "I'm not supposed to be here. I'm being a very naughty boy." The way his feet fell heavy, emphasizing the syllables in 'naughty' made it clear that he wanted the two of you to return to the bedroom. You backed up slowly, trembling as you took his hands in your own. He held them firm and tight.

"Hmmm," he said, scanning the room, eyes lingering on the messy bed. "Looks like you've missed me." If anyone else had worn the expression he had on his face, you would have deemed them smug, but to see your beloved Aizawa looking that confident just filled you with joy.

Shouta moved you toward the bed with all the surety of an apex predator, stopping for a moment to loom over you before leaning down--batting away your toy as he did--so he could pin you on the mattress. You closed all your eyes and let out a moan, but they jerked back open when you felt his breath against your ear and he whispered, "Did that little video I posted get you all worked up?"

You nodded and felt him smile as he replied, "Well then, I guess it's a good thing that Daddy's here, isn't it?"

[the-fiction-witch]

The Mademoiselle P1

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader (KINDA)

Rating SMUT

Requested: Hey, I don't know if you take requests atm, but what if y/n was a showgirl and Jack Dawkins heard of her around from people or something? :)

I finished up the day heading to my room for the night immediately shutting my door and heading to my bed, but I saw a small pile on my bed and a note.

'You're mail came today, Jack X Hetty' 

I completely forgot I had even been waiting for anything, I suppose that's just one of those things where everything takes forever. I sat on my bed and went through it sorting everything, where there wasn't much a book I had given up waiting for, a correspondence from a London doctor I asked about something, and a couple of letters from my navy friends. I set the letters on my table to look over later, and stripped off climbing into bed. I tried to get some sleep but my curiosity was rampant so I grabbed the letters from the table and laid in bed looking through them. It took me a while given my reading but I got through each one by one. I finished with a letter from Peter.

Peter and I were once bunkmates, he was a few years older than me I was only thirteen and he was nineteen, the two of us very much formed a bond through the shit, blood and sea waves, he works at a shipping warehouse in Gibraltar now and we often send letters back and forth to keep up to date with each other. It would be nice to see him but letters will have to do for now. 

I read the letter, reading about his news, his wife, his work all the usual stuff we talked about, I smiled at it and set the letter on the side to write a reply when I next got a chance, But I felt the envelope was still fairly heavy so I tipped out the contents and saw a few postcards tumble out, one had writing on the back. 

'I recall your affinity for her Dawkins ;)' 

I smirked a little already knowing what they were. Peter had a thing about 'French Postcards' he said he 'collected them' which I think was an excuse, and given we shared a space during the uhhh... Long nights at sea, Yeah I kinda got into it too. I don't know there's something so... innocent about them like I know I shouldn't have them but I still like having them, and he knew of my affection towards... a certain showgirl often featured in these postcards, so if ever he came across one of her he'd get it for me, and now saves them up to send to me with his letters. 

I set the envelope on the table and slinked myself down onto my pillow tucking the covers up, as I picked up the postcards flipping them over. The first Was a sweet picture a drawing done in the typical style, three ladies by the beach in small bathing suits enjoying the sand and sea,  I recognized her Y/E/C eyes and Y/H/C Hair depicted in her usual way. And the caption at the bottom of the card is laced with intricate filigree.

The Ladies ponder taking a dip or getting dirty. 

I flipped to the next card immediately again I recognised her drawing, sat at a vanity in black stockings and a little nightie barely covering her and combed her sweet hair, the end of the picture at her knees, a man drawn peeking through her changing screen with the caption.

The Mademoiselle's nosy visitor. 

I admit my eyes lingered on her exposed shoulder and thighs longer than I like to admit, before flicking to the next one this one was mostly empty it was again a drawing of y/n in her little boots, stockings, har and gloves holding a bedsheet to conceal herself but a mirror had been sketched behind her revealing her bare ass, the end of the picture at her knees, and the caption. 

Yes, your sheet looks lovely Mademoiselle.

Already my eyes lingered on her and I bit my lip a little looking at her, I flicked to the next one and almost immediately had to shift my hips a little I knew I was already getting hard just looking at them, this one was her again in the arms of a man, she wore a beautiful blue ballgown the top of which had fallen to expose her bare breasts as the man she danced with dipped her forcing her to arch her back to better expose her breasts,

Suddenly every man at the Cotillionwants to dance with The Mademoiselle. 

I couldn't help my hand moving down to take my shaft softly giving myself a little soft rub as I looked at the perky nipples she had in the drawing, I slowly made my hand move faster until I swapped to the last postcard a very perfect drawing of her stood with only a thin sheet around her revealing almost all of her her violin in hand playing it gently, the end of the picture at her knees, I couldn't help looking at every inch of her my hand moving on its own desperate just from looking at these -

"Uuuummmmmm!" I groaned from the back of my throat as I hit my wall sending my seed across my sheets, I laid my head back on my pillow fully and gasped desperately trying to... THINK through my post-orgasm brain fog, having dropped the cards on my chest in such excitement once my head was back on straight I took the cards and added them to the small box under my bed with the rest of them adding them to the box one by one, until I got to the last one and I couldn't help but smirk laid against my pillow looking at her "Hmm... Très Vilaine Mademoiselle" ( Translation: 'hmm... Very Naughty Mademoiselle') before I gave her a kiss and an eskimo kiss before putting the card away in the box so I could get to bed. 

I yawned a little while doing some bandages, my mind elsewhere as it often was.

"When do you think I'll be out of here doc?" he asked,

"Ohh shouldn't be too long, couple of days while we monitor infection." 

"You think I'll be out by the sixteenth?"

"Oh absolutely, why somewhere to be?"

"Well yeah, uhhh haven't you heard?" he whispered

"About?"

"The Mademoiselle," he said and I froze up "She's got a show in Melbourne but she's stopping in Port Victoria." 

"She is!" I jumped a little louder than I should have done,

"Half the Port's going to see her, see if she'll give us a show before she goes off again."

"Really... Hu" I nodded trying not to get excited "You'll be out by then I'm sure." I told him heading out of the ward trying not to jump or blush with excitement... 

[usergreenpixel]

JACOBIN FICTION CONVENTION MEETING 37: CHÉVALIER (2022)

1. The Introduction

Well, hello there, Citizens! I’m back and I hope you missed me! Sorry for the multiple delays and all, but luckily I’m back at it now!!!

Okay, so this movie has been on my radar ever since it got announced. A story featuring a real Black man who lived during Frev? Sign me up! This has excellent potential and also, to my knowledge, at least a partially Black crew so we get more representation of marginalized groups in crews and on the screen!

At least, those were my thoughts before I actually watched the movie, but we’ll get to whether it was a good media piece later.

I found the movie on Russian language streaming websites, but it’s available on Amazon Prime and Disney Plus for those who would like to watch the original English version.

This review is dedicated to @idieonthishill , @vivelareine (who has a review that unpacks the movie from a historical pov and is welcome to add to the review 😊), @theravenclawrevolutionary , @sansculottides , @citizentaleo , @saintjustitude , @avergehistoryenjoyer , @lanterne and @jenxiez .

Okay, let the Jacobin Fiction Convention reopen!

2. The Summary

The movie tells a story of a real man, Joseph Bologne aka Chévalier de Saint-Georges. Recognized son of a white French nobleman and an enslaved black woman, Bologne must navigate the cutthroat world of the Parisian high society, dealing with racism and trying to reconcile his “white” upbringing with his African roots.

Sounds interesting, but let’s see how the premise was handled.

3. The Story

The Introduction scene - a musical duel between Mozart and Bologne, was actually quite good in my opinion. So were the other beginning scenes of kid Bologne growing up in France as an aristocrat and being bullied by his white peers, plus his father telling him not to let society break him.

These scenes establish quite well that Bologne has to carve out a place for himself among French nobility and make a lot of effort to get even a hint of acceptance. Sounds like a nice setup, right? Well, unfortunately at times Bologne in the movie doesn’t seem to have much agency at all.

For example, his title is granted to him by Marie-Antoinette basically on a whim, handed to him on a silver platter because the queen was impressed by his fencing skills, which in my opinion isn’t enough to show a character who has to work hard to be accepted. I think it would’ve been better if Bologne had at least several impressive fencing performances to prove himself and show more of his skills.

On the flip side, there are characters who have a bit too much agency. For example, in the story it’s Marie Antoinette who is calling all the shots and giving all the orders in France, even though Louis is alive and well. It’s definitely jarring to see how people say “by the order of the queen” when the king should be the one mentioned instead.

I didn’t care much for the love triangle storyline, but it’s my own personal preference and also the fact that it, like many parts of the story, isn’t all that nuanced. So yeah, very bland and boring.

Yes, Citizens, unfortunately nuance has officially left the chat, especially when it comes to the main character. See, at first Bologne doesn’t give a shit about poverty and famine plaguing France. He is enjoying his cushy life and his friendship with the queen of France instead. However, you know what makes him join the Jacobins? A fucking PERSONAL FALLING OUT WITH THE QUEEN. Not promises of abolishing slavery or granting rights to black people, not his own ideals… Just fucking pettiness!

It would have been much better if he didn’t have a falling out with Marie Antoinette and signed up for fighting with the Republicans because he genuinely wanted to do what was right, not due to personal beef. Especially since that was why he joined Frev in reality – the real Bologne made a choice to do the right thing simply because it seemed to be the right thing to him. Not out of petty desire to get back at the queen.

Also, the conflict between Bologne and his mother about how he is acting “too white”… eeeehh. To me it felt very anachronistic but maybe I’m wrong and there is more nuance missing because EVERYONE at court had to carry themselves in a certain way to make it. If you couldn’t do it, you were socially FUCKED. Besides, Nanon (the mother) and her friends crack really mean jokes about Bologne being “too white”, which is… well, an INTERESTING way to endear him to his mother’s culture…

The movie is juggling admittedly anachronistic theme about black culture, anti-slavery message, court drama and love triangles… and the juggling is done quite sloppily too, I’m afraid.

Also, just to illustrate how inaccurate this movie is, the events of 1789 are shown happening in 1776 for some reason, which shows just how much the creators didn’t give a shit about research.

Moving on.

4. The Characters

I really didn’t care for Bologne to be honest. He shows selfishness and pettiness, doesn’t have enough agency in the story and is also very inconsistent. After falling out with Marie Antoinette, he claims he defended her, which… he didn’t! At least it’s not shown in the movie! What the fuck happened to “show, don’t tell”?! Also, his incredible talents aren’t really shown in the way they could’ve been, more on that in the soundtrack section. A missed opportunity, really.

Nanon, Bologne’s mother, is a real embodiment of the themes of slavery and trauma present in the the movie. She merely exists to push him to embrace his African heritage and to remind him that he will never be truly accepted by other nobles. I honestly wish there was more to her character, because she ends up being little more than a walking theme embodiment.

Marie Antoinette here is a capricious, fair weather friend. She CLAIMS to support Bologne, but does it in indirect ways out of fear that nobles wouldn’t appreciate her openly backing a black man. Even though she is an absolute monarch so she can afford to show her support more openly. Actions speak louder than words, and she is clearly not a true ally of Bologne.

Marie Joséphe, Bologne’s love interest, is a woman trapped in a miserable marriage and yearning to act in Bologne’s operas. While I do sympathize with her, I believe that there really isn’t much depth to her either. We just don’t learn much about her. This is becoming a common theme…

Also, just as a side note while we’re talking about characters, many white characters in the movie are shown as mere flat caricatures. I can understand why, but, again, this doesn’t show nuance as in reality, while Bologne definitely had to deal with racism, he was not only accepted, but adored as a celebrity, but we don’t see that reflected in the attitudes of other people towards him. Because apparently the brains of the spectators will implode when they see nuance in a modern movie, it seems.

5. The Setting

Personally I wasn’t that impressed by the costumes or the settings. I’ve seen much better ones. Nothing bad, but nothing outstanding either.

6. The Soundtrack

Where the fuck is actual music from that time period?! Where is music by Bologne himself?! It’s a fucking missed opportunity and I don’t know what prevented the creators from including the music written by the MAIN DAMN CHARACTER into a biopic about him. A shame that they missed yet another opportunity.

7. The Conclusion

Honestly… I can’t say much when it comes to what this movie is fucking about. The story is bland, lacks nuance, doesn’t follow basic historical facts and is pulled in a million directions.

For a movie about an obscure figure, it doesn’t show much of the things Bologne was known for and at times even strips him of agency. We need to have better POC representation, because this is just not it.

The movie is mediocre, bland and forgettable. Don’t waste your time on it.

With that, I declare today’s meeting of the Jacobin Fiction Convention to be over. Thank you for your patience and support during this hiatus of mine.

Stay tuned and stay safe!

Love,

Citizen Green Pixel