#basically just talking to myself‚ 'scuse

[falderaletcetera]

determined to find something positive for my brain to latch onto today, SO

stardew valley mods, apparently, are it!

god bless modders though. I thought East Scarp was gonna be a smaller mod than Stardew Valley Expanded, but looking at all the optional add-ons... it really might not be. and I'm interested to see how a bunch of mods made by different people in collaboration with each other plays as opposed to one big mod made by a very dedicated nutter (affectionate.)

((I think it might help! I like SVE a lot but I've also played enough to have bones to pick with various aspects, and I think having individuals focussed on the specific characters and parts they really want to flesh out might be good.))

also extremely amused by the person who made four different "let me date that old man" mods. I'm definitely leaving off the wizard one, because I've been playing SVE and I kinda miss the vanilla wizard - and because, well, it makes me a little sad to have those upper friendship levels locked behind a dating requirement. but the marlon one might be pretty cool. and I deeply respect the modder's decision to make him grumpy and sweary.

the annoying thing, the difficult thing, is that there are in fact lots of characters I'm curious about, and in order to find out as much as I want to about them, I do have to date most of them. which. the first time I played the base game, I dated everyone in a fit of aromantic apathy, saw all the heart events, got a bit creeped out by some of them, then had to edit my own save file to dump them all because that wasn't a game option yet.

I can see that happening again and it's already mortifying. potential solution: attempt to play as a character and not as myself, and see where things take them. 95% chance they'll stay single but it tends to make the interactions a little more interesting anyway.

(it's a lot of mods to wrangle and hope they all still work okay, but I've been needing the distraction, so fingers crossed that happens soon!)

(am I still ignoring the game I bought my current computer for? yes. very much so. vesemir beat my arse in the tutorial and I don't yet trust a friend's assurance that playing with a controller makes it way better.)

[writingsfromhome]

Dos and Don’ts of H Styles

A/N: this story was literally born out of the wifi incident happening to me. It was a weird experience lol but of course it inspired me to write a story around it. Basically you used to work for Harry as a PA and your life was hell. You bump into him in the present but before it unfolds we need to know what happened in the past.

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

——————————————

I watch as Winnie types into her phone the number of the guy who’d just hit on her.

“And that’s with a y?” She looks up at him with doe eyes.

“Yea,” he falls for it. He was cute, and she worked a lot I didn’t blame her for taking who she could get. His accent also helped. “What’re you doin’ now?”

“Well,” her eyes slide to me. “Hanging with my girlfriend here.”

He nods at me and I smile, holding up the almost empty glass. “We were just about done for the night though.”

“We were?” Winnie checks in with me.

“Mhm,” I give her an encouraging nod.

Both Winnie and I were employed by musician-turned-actor Oretta Smith. Winnie was her nanny—or childcare companion as she called it, and I worked as Oretta’s executive assistant. It was full-time and demanding as hell but ever since Oretta had her first child a couple months back I’d gotten a lot more breathing room as she minimized her public life and stayed close to home.

This long weekend Oretta was staying with her in-laws and asked us to take it off. I’d already requested the weekend off knowing we were in London but being off at the same time as Winnie was impossible so we’d gone out to celebrate and let loose—9pm and only 2 drinks in, both of us had already started talking about the comfort of our beds. Until flirty dude came up to Winnie.

“What do you say?” Winnie’s new date asks her.

“Aw shucks alright,” Winnie flashes her beautiful smile and hops off the stool. I don’t even see her drop the bills onto the table as she hugs me goodbye and leaves until it’s too late. She’d covered for both of us. Well I’d get her back next time.

I finish the rest of my drink, eyes flicking to the reruns of tonight’s soccer game. This wasn’t the fanciest bar—it was quite homely compared to the ones Winnie and I often found ourselves at. But it was one I used to go to when I worked in London just over a year ago. Being back in the city, despite all the awful memories, pulled me towards the nostalgic comfort of it.

I remember the many dates with my now-ex, the random nights I’d actually get off, and drown myself in drink to forget about my awful employer. Or the birthday and milestone celebrations—especially the ones I started to miss near the end.

I consider walking the few streets over to my old flat. Coincidentally the job I’d gotten wasn’t far from home. The upside was that it made dealing with “emergency” texts from my employer a lot quicker but the downside was it grouped all the traumas I experienced in this beautiful city to a few blocks. I didn’t miss it.

I cut my memory lane rabbit-hole short and decide it was time to order an Uber and get out of here; I had an early train to catch tomorrow.

The bars on my phone flicker up and down as I open the app and continue to refresh it over and over. But my signal remains unstable.

“Stupid phone,” I mutter. I had to update my provider while I was here asap.

“‘Scuse me?” I wave down someone serving drinks. “Have you got wifi here?”

“Yep we do!” She smiles. “Name’s The Violinist and the password’s capital p….”

Her voice grows far away as my blood runs cold and I stare at the list of available wifi networks. I feel myself nod a thank you when she stops talking and she leaves taking the password with her while I’m stuck staring.

My networks:

🔗H’s iPhone

I want to duck down and run away, not spend another second around anything to do with that era of my life. But I also want to hunt him down and show him how much better I was doing after him, despite.

The second instinct wins. Kind of.

I don’t hide away. I scan the dimly lit room and try to spot the familiar head of hair but it’s on the third try that I spot him. And it’s probably because his hair is barely an inch long.

He must’ve cut it recently, I’m surprised. Him without his hair was like Harry Potter without his scar.

The feelings are instantaneous though. The loathing and the need to cry. My heart continues to race as I burn a hole into the side of his head.

He was the devil incarnate and I had thought about him for a second too long just now. And now here he was. What the fuck was a guy like him doing here?

I remember the awful times; the casually cruelty and the late nights he would make me work. His constant criticism. The way my life fell apart because of him. The way I could wring his neck with very little incentive at any given moment.

He had turned my whole life upside down. He ruined me.

Harry Styles wasn’t the sweetheart everyone painted him out to be.

And yet, a flash of a feeling, a fleeting memory I try to keep locked away pushes to the front of my mind.

“Fuck no,” I tell myself. There was no room for fondness when it came to the devil.

About 2 years ago:

I straighten out the blazer, wondering if I should be chic and roll the sleeves up a bit or just keep them down. My reflection shows a nervous mousy girl that’s trying too hard. I throw my hair into a ponytail instead and feel a more like myself. Just as the elevator doors ding open.

I’m in the penthouse suite I would be working out of for the next however long; it was my first day on the job and I was still sorting out my nervous to excited ratio.

After looking for months, I’d landed a PA gig for up-and-coming rockstar Harry Styles. It was a dream come true and everyone was ecstatic for me, most of all my boyfriend who’d helped me land the role.

My boyfriend, Grayson, was a personal trainer to a lot of big names and he’d been keeping his ear to the ground for me. We met a few years ago at the gym of course, I’d still been a student and he worked part-time at the student gym. Back then he was still working to get a better client list.

We’d clicked pretty quickly and Grayson, who was anything but shy, asked me out. Soon after he was telling me he had feelings for me and I’d felt them echo back the same. He was my biggest supporter and when I told him I wanted to take this career path seriously he’d been the first to show me what steps to take to get there.

My true dream was to become a publicist and work with celebrities, but fresh out of post-grad everyone told me I’d need to dive head first and get my hands dirty. And I’d have to do that by finding a PA role for a publicist or an industry person.

“Y/n?” My name interrupts my thoughts. It comes from a disembodied head peeking out from a doorway. “You are y/n right?”

“Yes!” I hurry over. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yes. I’m Mr. Styles’ exec assistant, I’m only here for the next,” he looks down at his watch. “Half hour perhaps? So let’s get you sorted before I head out.”

“Oh okay. Sure,” my ears ring, I was going to be alone on my first day. I didn’t even know he had an executive assistant. What was the difference between him and me? What if I screw up and this guy was part of the fallout plan? Shit. “Is Mr. Styles in?”

“Not at the moment, he’ll be in before noon. He has a few appointments this morning. Typically you’d be going with him but he left before you arrived so…next time. Make sure you get any paperwork he received from the appointments and file them in here-“ he points to a room with a filing cabinet. Like an actual cabinet. This was a tight ship. “You sound American. Are you American?”

“Yep,” I debate whether to tell him I stayed after doing my degree here but decide to keep the yapping to a minimum.

I continue following the EA—who I should get the name of, as he points out rooms and overlaps it with info about Mr. Styles’ schedule and routines. A lot of info. My brain felt like it was barely holding on.

I think about the man I was now working for, the one who came into the interview for a brief 10 minutes. Surely that laid-back guy wasn’t the anal mystery man I was getting all these instructions for.

The interview itself had gone pretty smoothly apart from the fact that I nervous-laughed a few times too many. I had gone silent when The Harry Styles had walked into the office. He’d sat beside me at the round table, slouching slightly and flashing me a reassuring smile—I had felt my shoulders dip down immediately.

“So it’s y/n right? I’m pronouncing that correctly?” He’d said in his perfectly charming accent.

“Yes, it’s so nice to meet you officially.” I had to tamp down every urge to gush over him. I was a professional. I was zen.

“So y/n,” he says my name so casually and yet I feel myself lean closer to hear him say it again. “I’ve seen a couple of you come in here for the PA role. What makes you different then?”

Think think, just be calm and think!

“Well I’m a very passionate person so I put my all into everything I do. That would include this job, and in turn you’d benefit by getting peace of mind knowing I’m tackling whatever behind the scenes items that need to get done to get you where you need to go.”

“Well said,” he says with a smile that says he knew he was very good looking. “Now trust is a big factor in this relationship.”

As he talks I forget his manager is even in this room. I’m swept up in the hazy green of his eyes.

“We’ve done the background checks and all that—right?” He looks to his manager who was interviewing me and gets a nod. “But how can you reassure me. My staff gets approached by the media daily for any info on me. What’s to say you don’t sell out.”

“I would never,” I didn’t even think of that being an option. “Confidentiality and trust is the biggest pillar of this role and I take it very seriously. You’re like, the biggest celeb of the last year but I know you’re also a person and I wouldn’t betray that. On a person level.”

“So even if you had a really bad day, say I had gotten you to do some impossible tasks. And you’re heading out head full of steam and you get approached by a reporter. £5k for an exclusive.”

I shake my head. “As tempting as it would be, professional ethics reign over any of that.”

“I believe you y/n,” his eyes flicker down to my file. “Good references. We’ll be in touch.”

Now my eyes roam around the small room I’m meant to work out of. It’s the size of 1.5 supply closets with half the walls filled with shelves and cabinets. There’s a small desk but I wasn’t sure how often I’d be sitting at it. All the PAs I’d ever connected with always complained about the amount of time you spend on your feet. That’s why I’d opted to buy myself runners when I got the job.

“Any questions—mind you I have 1 minute for them before I’m off? There’s a suit I have to sort out.” The EA turns to me when we circle back to my office/supply closet.

“Oh,” a million race through my mind. Nothing that would fit in a minute. “I um, I guess I didn’t catch your name?”

He seems surprised at that, and then he laughs. “Oh you’re a doll. This place is gonna eat you alive. I’m Riley and tip for you—don’t be so eager to please. Do your job. Do it well. But you’re not here to be liked or make friends alright?”

He laughs again when he looks at my face. He hands me an iphone and tells me it’s programmed with everything and everyone I needed, then waves goodbye leaving me in a confused spot.

I wasn’t naïve, I knew what working in this industry was like but I was could swear I’d landed a good gig with Harry Styles. And meeting the man himself in the interview had confirmed it.

Maybe Riley was just jaded by too many long hours.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. A text from Grayson: good luck on your first day babe. let me know how it goes.

I only have time to heart it when I hear the elevator open in the foyer. I rush out just for Harry to brush past me and his manager following, chattering away about something.

I follow from behind and watch as he heads to the kitchen. Riley had shown me what he laid out on the island and how I should do it going forward. And like two magnets Harry reaches for the exact bottle Riley mentioned. He downs the smoothie and then collapses onto the barstool.

“But don’t forget what she was saying about the single needing to be global. Sure your fanbase would love it but would the people who hate you have to admit it’s good.”

“I make it for my fans not for the wankers that hate me,” Harry says and his voice is rich like caramel.

“You know what we mean.” His manager suddenly turns directly to me. “Can you contact the studio and let them know to push Harry’s 1pm to 3?”

“Oh,” I didn’t even know they knew I was here. They gave no acknowledgement until now. “Of course. Um, could I just get the paperwork from this morning too? The appoint-“

“Yep,” his manager unhauls the items in his hands. The whole time Harry stares out the window. I’m handed a stack of papers and I carry them to the office.

My hands are shaking when I put them down and I feel a lump in my throat. What was wrong with me? Why was I reacting this way?

I find the studio contact in the phone Riley gave me and let them know. They’re suspicious at first but accept the reschedule. I leave the paperwork for later, figuring I might be needed now.

But the rest of the morning I’m unacknowledged save by a few requests from Harry’s manager. I spend some time looking through the calender in the phone that’s pre-programmed with Harry’s entire life. It’s packed except for this Sunday. I wonder if it was actually free or just hidden from me since it was my one day off.

“You’ve got a passport haven’t you…?” It’s the first time Harry’s spoken to me. He’s changed into a hoodie and shorts, his manager is nowhere to be seen, and I’ve just bitten into a granola bar—the first thing I’d had since my morning coffee.

“Y/n.” I try to swallow the bite whole but at the last minute push it to the side to try to answer. “Erm yeah. I haven’t got it on me though.”

“Right. Y/n. Start carrying it. I’ll need you with me on Thursday I have a morning meeting in Léon and since Riley’s going to be sorting out something for my New York trip in a couple weeks he can’t make it.”

“Yes. I will. Do you need me to prepare anything else for the trip? I’m not sure if you’ve packed or-“

“It’s just a meeting.” He cuts me off. He pulls out his phone, dismissing me.

I swallow the knot in my throat once more.

I go with Harry to the studio since his manager is meeting us there. Alone in the car with him, the silence feels stuffy.

“I never got the opportunity to say thank you by the way,” I try to open up a conversation. All he was doing was looking out the window surely I wasn’t interrupting anything.

“What?” He stares right through me.

“Um, I’m just saying thank you. For the job.”

He nods.

I stay silent for the rest of the ride.

The studio is quiet, which makes sense when I think about it but upon entering an actual room I change my mind. The noise assaults my ears and I nearly jump at the volume but my hand gripping the doorknob keeps me in place.

People swarm around Harry.

“I need my tablet and my notebook,” Harry says amidst the small chaos.

What the fucks was he talking about. “Sorry?”

“My tablet and notebook,” His face darkens and so does my mood. Nobody told me! But maybe I should’ve asked oh my god.

“I don’t have it,” I say lamely.

“Any time I’m in the studio I need those two things. You need to get me my tablet and my notebook.” He speaks like a robot.

“I-I’ll head back,” I get my bag again. “Tablet and notebook, is there anything else?”

He looks angrier than I thought. He sticks his hands in his pocket, shuffles something in his hand before handing it over. “You may as well get lunch. Keep that card on you for business costs.”

I open my mouth to ask what he might want but he turns away as soon as I take the card and I’ve already fucked up royally so I decide to wing it.

In the car I consider googling what Harry Styles ate for lunch and instead will the ever living shit out of myself not to cry.

I scroll through the phone, debating if calling Riley for help would be a mistake. Going through every app for help I realize the countless notes in the app.

Morning Routines, says one. It lists things I should do when the mornings were spent at home, in studio, abroad, in a hotel, or if I walk into a “morning-after” morning. Jeez.

Another has checklists for what to do when travelling, how-to for routine appointments I should be booking, routine people I should be calling.

Why didn’t I look at this before. Right there is one called Studio Days and in bold it says what to bring.

I was an idiot. A big fat idiot.

I try my luck and search lunch. Sure enough a note with possible lunch places in cities across the world pops up.

It was a How-to guide for Mr. Styles.

Whoever put this shit together was an angel. I owed them my life.

I decide to be proactive, sorting lunch out to be delivered to the studio while the car drops me off. I run to the room Riley had said was the home studio. Sure enough I spot the tablet and a few notebooks, I grab all 3. I also grab the charger and ignore the bag of weed chilling on the arm of the chair.

What to do when he’s too drunk / What to do for Interview Days / What to do when he won’t answer the door or the phone / Day-off checklist / Social media checklist.

The dos and don’ts go on and on as I scroll through on the ride back. This was going to be my homework and by the end of the week I was gonna be a genius.

I swipe away and check if I had missed any folders containing precious info. Just the trash.

Out of curiosity I open it and there’s only 1 sitting inside: the donts of working for Harry Styles

I open it:

-don’t let one nice day fool you into forgetting he’s an arse and your employer

-don’t expect any gratitude from a narcissist

-don’t fall for his charm

-don’t shit where you sleep. no matter how tempting

-when he pisses you off which he will, don’t mouth off. what happens next is worse than being fired. which he won’t do because he’s the devil and he will want to keep you around after treating you like shite

-don’t think he’s chill. he’s anything but. follow the checklists and the rules.

-don’t have a life. actually this is a CAN’T. YOU CAN’T HAVE A LIFE WORKING FOR THE DEVIL. LEAVE AS QUICKLY AS YOU CAN UNLESS YOU HATE YOURSELF

I close the phone immediately, my heart thumping in my chest like a steady bass in the background of a song. What the hell did I get myself into.

***

It’s 8pm by the time I head back with Harry. The car is once again silent.

I had spent the day reviewing emails and the checklists, fielding calls and texts. His personal chef had texted to tell me dinner was prepared and in the oven to be re-heated so I figure that’s the last thing I’d do before I head home.

I’d eaten lunch standing while watching Harry sing background vocals to the album he was working on. It was hard to deny how intoxicating it was to see such a talented man work his magic. And it really was magical seeing how a song got put together.

That is until he’d sent me to get tea for the room and I’d nearly spilled half of it on myself getting enough back to the room. I was getting an electric kettle next.

I made a new note then: Reminders to do so you don’t get fired

The notes were my saving grace.

“My head is killing me,” Harry groans.

What to carry at all times: #4 paracetamol and #2 water

Checkmarked after going to the pharmacy while he was in the studio. I’d created an emergency makeup bag with essentials I could throw in my tote. I considered it a win today.

I hand the painkillers to him and he seems surprised. He replaces them with his phone.

“I don’t want to look at a screen for the rest of the night.”

“Okay.” I leave his phone beside me and try not to think of everything on it.

It vibrates a few minutes later and I leave it, not wanting to invade his privacy but he glances at me.

“Well?”

“Oh!” I lift it but it’s locked.

“1021.”

I type it in. “Um, Jeff wants to know if you’re still at the studio-“

“Reply to him.”

I do as I’m told.

“Um Mitch wants to know if you’re-“

“If it’s scheduling questions you can probably answer them without bothering me about it.”

I look up and he’s tipped his head back, eyes closed. Right. Of course I could.

I go through his schedule and find his studio time on Friday and relay it to Mitch. I respond to another text from someone asking if he was going to a gala in a couple months—his schedule said he was in LA so no. I wondered if I would also be in LA in a couple months. I wonder what Grayson would think.

Grayson, I’d had a short call with him a few hours ago and tried not to cry hearing his voice. It felt like home when the whole day felt so foreign.

I stare at the final text. The contact photo is the side profile of a gorgeous woman.

“Kimberly wants to know if you want um,” I feel my cheeks burn. “If you’re inviting her in tonight because she has a party she really wants you to go to.”

“I can’t be arsed for a party I feel like shite.” Harry says, eyes still closed. “Tell her to be at mine after 10.”

“Ok.” I type the words with a racing heart. I remember the morning-after checklist for this exact scenario. It wasn’t going to be weird soon I guess.

I heat up dinner for Harry while he showers and leave letting him know what time I’d be in tomorrow. He doesn’t even say goodbye.

I get home around the time I reckon Kimberly gets to Harry’s. The first thing I do when I see Grayson is shed a waterfall and he holds my exhausted body tight against him.

“Are you sure you want to keep doing this?” He whispers to me in bed after a shower and sandwich—I couldn’t stomach anything more.

“I need this job Gray. It’s gotta get better.”

“I reckon but it’s a steep learning curve,” he says as he traces the curve of my nose.

“I know,” I snuggle closer to him and yawn. I don’t know what he says next as I tip into sleep.

***

If the notes app manual with the dos and donts of being Harry Styles’ PA was a physical thing, imagine me swallowing it.

Every spare second I had—which I didn’t get a lot of, I was reading that thing. My fingers searched tirelessly before every scheduled and unscheduled event. And yet, I’d fucked up so many times.

It was Saturday and I was looking forward to my day off.

He had been hot and cold all week but ever since getting back from Léon he’d been nicer and I’d actually been getting home before 8.

Maybe things were going well, despite the fact that the learning curve was like climbing mount everest.

“What’s my morning look like?” Harry asks. I was sitting at his kitchen table trying to book a dinner for him next week with a friend that was in town. A friend who also happened to be big back where I was from—I hoped to catch a glimpse of her myself.

I glance up and look back down just as quickly. After a week of seeing Harry in all sorts of undress I should be used to it, but my face still flushes. Today he stands at the table in running shorts.

“Pulling it up,” I say and scan his schedule even though I had it memorized. “You’ve got a meeting at the bank in about 40 minutes and lunch with Michael.”

“Can’t my accountant take the bank meeting?”

“She’ll be there. She’s meeting you downstairs to discuss the meeting on the ride over. You need to sign off on some stuff.”

“Stuff,” Harry repeats.

I look at him, careful to train my eyes on his face. I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed at my lack of elaboration or just teasing me.

“Documents.” I correct, still unable to tell.

He look amused. “Great. Documents. I thought I’d be signing body parts.”

Was he joking? He was joking…I think.

“Right. No, we’re saving that for the tattoo shop booked for 6.”

He raises his brows, a slow smile spreading across his face and like the sun coasting over the horizon he looks brighter and prettier.

“That’s mad, that people would get a random man’s signature tattooed on them isn’t it?”

It’s inevitable really, my eyes skim over his torso brimming with tattoos. He notices and laughs. It’s a wonderful laugh.

“I meant they don’t really know me.”

“They admire you and it’s a piece of you,” I shrug. “At least it’s not a portrait of your face.”

“I’ve seen that floating around the internet actually.”

“Really?!” Now that was mad. I pull it up on the laptop and cover my mouth.

“I know.” He hangs his head and we laugh. God, things were finally getting better. This was the kind of relationship I thought Harry would have with his PA.

I scroll through comments and it’s impossible to wipe the smile off my face. I’ve considered myself a fan for a lot of artists but tattooing their face…that was another level of commitment I couldn’t do.

I look back to Harry who has grown quiet. His eyes are on me.

“What happened to your blazers?”

I’d decided to wear a skirt today, it was my lucky skirt—the one I had been wearing when I got the call that the job was mine. It being the last work day of the week I thought it might make me feel good.

I’d paired it with a tank top and a comfy cardigan. I’d finally felt like myself compared to all the button ups and blazers I’d been parading in. But apparently Harry had noticed the wardrobe difference. Shocker because he barely acknowledged me this week.

“I thought I’d dress for a Saturday?” It comes out meeker than I’d hoped. Ugh. “I hope that’s alright. If you want me more professional-“

“That’s alright,” his eyes roam down my body and I feel hot all over. Oh god, I shouldn’t have worn this. “It looks good.”

“Thanks,” I cross my cardigan over my body and try to get back to work but he doesn’t let it end there.

“Did you make that yourself?”

He continues to surprise me, “I did actually, is it obvious?”

“Yeah there’s a big hole down the back,” he teases. I know he is because his eyes are smiling, light.

“Damnit,” I relax a little. He was only interested in the sweater. “I’d finished it late it looked okay in the dark.”

“I have a friend, she made one of those for me. With the patches. Very comfortable.” He’s weirdly intense while looking at me and I feel like squirming again.

“It is. Very stretchy.” My vocabulary seems to shrink.

He leans over to touch the fabric and I feel like a cactus has been stabbed into my neck, I feel hot and prickly. Jeez, I had to chill out. My employer was just interested in my sweater. Super interested. Maybe I should just give him the damn thing. It would definitely fit him.

“Wool,” he smiles. He’s basically perched above me and I think I’m going to have a heart attack. I went from complaining about the fact that he acted like I wasn’t in any room he was in to not even being able to hold a conversation when he did.

I’m caught looking up into his unfairly gorgeous eyes and he looks at me like I’m the only person in the room. Which I was in this instance, but still.

I’m saved by a loud voice coming out of the elevator.

“Harry you car is waiting downstairs.”

Like a book slammed shut, his expression retreats until all that’s left is the cover page with no summary. The friendly Harry from before is gone.

“Oi Harry! I had to come all the way upstairs because I’ve been sitting in that stupid car waiting! Do you not pick up your phone?”

“Lee,” Harry says as he walks across his living room. “If you can’t reach me you call my PA I’ve told you a million times.”

“And I’ve told you a million times not to keep me waiting. We have a lot to cover before we get to this meeting and I need every minute. God why are you shirtless go put on something appropriate!”

Harry miraculously does as he’s told—given I had already laid out an outfit for him. He’s ready in no time. His accountant, Lee? Simply smiles at me and goes back to typing on her phone while we wait.

“Why is that so wrinkled?” Lee judges Harry who walks out in a completely different outfit.

“I don’t have time to change again do I?” Harry bristles.

Lee looks over at me and I’m not sure if she’s accusing me of something or looking for support.

“Mr. Styles I did leave an outfit out for the m-“

“I don’t wear silk.” He cuts me off and walks out ahead. Lee shrugs my way and follows him. I trail behind, feeling worse than ever.

For a miserable hour and a half I sit in one of the most uncomfortable chairs of my life, organizing Harry’s life while I wait for his meeting to end. As hard as I try to concentrate, I keep agonizing over what I might have done wrong to flick his switch. I swear things were going better. And I know I’ve seen him in silk before. Why the hell else would it be in his closet? Why couldn’t I go a single day without screwing up?

I finally spot Harry walking out of the office and gather my things quickly to meet him. I trail behind as we walk down the hall into the lobby, Lee is nowhere to be seen.

A gasp catches my attention and suddenly a girl younger than me rushes up to Harry.

“Oh my…Harry Styles?”

Harry’s face morphs briefly into annoyance, his gaze flicking my way, before pasting on a smile for the girl.

What to do when a fan approaches H (in the wrong moment): be the bad guy, divert, get Harry to wherever he needs to go to and do it quick.

“Hi,” Harry smiles sweetly at her and the friendliness throws me off guard. But this was unexpected and I should get him away…I think.

“Oh my god could I get a picture? My mate is never going to believe this. She loves you so much, so do I-“

“We really have to be going.” I say and the girl looks at me, surprised to find me there. I look around and spot and older woman watching us. Must be her mum.

“Could I just get a picture?” She glances between us.

“I don’t think Mr-“

“It’s fine,” Harry hands me her phone. “Get a photo of us.”

Just another layer of humiliation to add to the rest of the day. The rest of the week. God was I just awful at reading cues?

I snap a couple and then we’re walking free.

He doesn’t say anything. The car ride to his lunch date is spent in awkward fucking silence and I hate myself more with every second I spend in it.

When the car stops at his destination he holds his hand up when I go to open the door for him.

“Listen -what's your name again?" He asks.

Shame and humiliation drip over me like blood on Carrie’s prom night. I repeat it for him. Just like I had daily since I was hired.

“Right. Y/n. You came highly recommended from a friend so I trust you know how to do this job. This job, is to keep my life organized and keep me on track. Make sure I'm not distracted or side tracked by anyone. Including you. It’s not to be my publicist or my fashion advisor or my personal security. Let's stick to the job description okay?"

His words land bitterly to my ears. Not personal. Just a job. Just a job. Just a fucking job. And yet it was starting to feel like my whole life.

“Yes of course.” I hear myself mumble. And like the big clown I had to be, I push open the door and get out so he can too. He walks to the restaurant without a goodbye and I crawl into the car, heading back to his place. Tears burn my eyes but I refuse to let them out. Refuse to admit just how badly this job hurt.

***

“I’m not doing this on purpose,” I hiss into the phone. “You know I’d be there right now if I could!”

“Babe I get it’s your job but you haven’t come to anything in over a month since you started your job!”

“That’s unfair,” I cup my hand over my mouth. “Gray c’mon I’m going to be there just late.”

“That’s what you said last weekend.”

Last weekend, one of our good friends invited a few friends for dinner in their new place and Greyson had had to go alone. Everyone had messaged me to say I was missed but Gray had been stony, pretended to be asleep when I got home and then given me the silent treatment until I wore him down the next day. It was exhausting begging for affection.

���It’s my job Grey I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“Me neither, you know my parents want us over for weekend roast some time but I’ve been avoiding giving them a date because I don’t want you to stand them up.”

“I-“ a shadow shifts in the corner of my eyes and I look up. Harry stands in the doorway. “I have to go we’ll talk later.”

“Whatever y/n,” Grey hangs up and my chest squeezes with all the hurt I was causing. But he saw the state I’d been in since I started this job a month ago and he knows this is just my life right now. Why was he suddenly acting like it was brand new information?

“Are you done your personal call?” Harry asks. He hovers in the doorway, I’d never actually seen him in this little office space. Then again, if he did step in there wouldn’t be much room for either of us to walk around each other.

“Sorry,” I hate myself for apologizing. Here and everywhere else in my life. But I have no other choice. “Can I do anything for you?”

“When are you heading out tonight?” He asks. His eyes glued to my face. I know my eyes are teary and I try to blink it away.

“Um, soon. In an hour or so,” blink blink blink. “Did you need anything from me before then?”

“Yes, I have a friend coming over tonight. Can you order us something for dinner. Something light. And get a bottle to chill for us—champagne. And can you push Monday’s cleaning service to tomorrow afternoon?”

“Consider it done.” I tell him, hoping he would just leave me alone in the dark here.

“Do you have evening plans?” He continues. Why did he never ignore me when I wanted him to!?

“Kind of yeah,” I try to keep it short. “A birthday.”

It was Grayson’s sister’s birthday. She had invited us to a local fave called The Violinist and of course I would only make it to the dessert course if I was lucky. These days, making it to dinner at all was a luxury. I lived off of sparkling water, leftovers, and coffee.

“Well best to finish up what you’re doing so you can head out.”

He leaves and I’m annoyed. Why couldn’t he be nice and just tell me to leave after doing what he asked. But here I sit folding fucking pamphlets for some idiotic pledge he had signed on for. Fuck me.

I’m miserable by the time I leave. I’d managed to finish everything in a half hour so I’d touched up my makeup and changed into a simple dress I had kept in the office closet on Riley’s suggestion.

“A simple black number that could be used for any last minute event.” He’d said. Unfortunately that now counted for personal events too.

“G’night Mr. Styles.” I call out as I walk to the foyer, just so he knows I was going out earlier than I said.

“G’night,” he answers surprisingly. He always ignored me but tonight he sits on the couch. He rises to see me off but I notice him pause and take in my outfit. “Fun night?”

“I hope so.” I unfold the blazer in my hand, suddenly wanting to disappear with his gaze on me.

His long legs walk to me and he takes the blazer I’m fidgeting with from my hands. He actually holds it open and if I wasn’t this exhausted my jaw would definitely be on the floor.

“Oh. Thank you,” I slip it on and turn to face him. As if helping me put it on wasn’t surprising enough, he proceeds to untuck my hair from the blazer.

“That’s alright,” he says in a low seductive tone. “You look nice. Are you dressed up for someone?”

The question is dangerous, toeing a line I’m not sure I want to erase. I try to ease things with a joke. “The birthday girl I guess.”

“A friend?”

“My fiancé’s younger sister.”

Was it just me, or does he bristle when I mentioned my fiancé?

“I didn’t know you were engaged,” he mumbles, glancing down at my hand. I wore a number of rings and I guess the small diamond Grayson had proposed with back when it was the most he could afford, blended in.

“Yeah, nearly a year now.”

“Wow,” he crosses his arms. “Have a date set?”

“Not exactly,” I smooth my hair behind my ears. “We’re thinking next year but we’ve just been so busy with out schedules-“

“What does he do?”

“He’s a personal trainer,” I say proudly.

“Oh,” Harry tilts his head back. “Oh. Now I understand. Now I get the connection. My mate Liam put in a good word for you when I needed a new PA, he said he knew you through his personal trainer. He never mentioned how.”

“I see,” I’d have to thank Liam next time I saw him. He’d been one of Grayson’s first big clients and had become a close friend to us. I’d have to thank him with dinner. If I got any nights off, that is.

“That’s who you were talking to on your personal call?” He asks, his hand tracing my shoulder seam down to my elbow. My heart races from the ghost of his touch.

“Erm yeah, sorry again. I had to take it since it was time sensitive.”

“Best to get going then.”

I take a step backwards and then rush to the elevator all at once. Once I’m on and the doors start to close I turn and catch a glimpse of his handsome face watching me go.

I let out a breath. That was weirdly heavy. And kind of intimate. But weird. That was weird.

I wonder briefly who he was having over tonight. If it was Kimberly, who I’d had the misfortune of meeting in her panties one morning. Or his other “friend” some brunette named Maya or Amaya something. I’d had the misfortune of meeting her when I dropped off a late package to Harry one evening. All were awkward encounters.

I shake away the thoughts and am grateful when Harry’s driver waves me down on the sidewalk. I guess Harry had told him to take me to where I needed to go. My heart is warmed ever so slightly, although I do accidentally nap on the 15 minute drive over.

I make it for the end of dinner and Gray looks relieved to see me even though his eyes hold a hint of something unspoken. I try to ignore it tonight.

“Oh you look beautiful!” I hug the birthday girl, and we sway from side to side. I used to see her a lot before she moved away for uni. “When did you stop being a baby, Josie Duran let me get a look at you.”

“Josefina tell her what you did for your 21st.” Gray says.

“Can you let it go!?” Josie scowls.

“What?” I whisper.

“Mom will kill you,” Gray warns.

“That’s why she doesn’t have to know,” Josie bites.

“Hey,” I put my hands up between the two. “No fighting with the birthday girl. Anyway. Josie, you look beautiful, I’m so sorry I’m late but it’s so good to be here.”

“Aw no don’t worry about it,” she goes in for another quick hug. “I’m just happy you got to come. Gray said the bloke you work for is a nightmare. Tell us do we know him?”

“Ah,” I wasn’t really supposed to talk about him according to my nda. “I dunno if you would. Anyway I’m going to try to steal some of Gray’s leftovers until dessert comes.”

I sit beside Gray where the seat had been left empty and smile up at him, hoping for forgiveness. He sighs and kisses my forehead, pushing his plate towards me.

“Go ahead, have you eaten?”

I had a banana and a yoghurt for lunch but I don’t tell him, just making a vague answer for yes and scarfing down what’s left.

“She got a tattoo,” he says in my ear later as the restaurant finishes singing happy birthday and a cake with sparklers is set down. He’d gotten tipsy and I can tell because he wants to talk about his upsets.

“She’s a grown woman Gray,” I know he was protective and a little traditional—that’s where half of their sibling fights originated, but I always told him he had to let loose a little. “She’s allowed to get it. If I remember you have some tattoos of your own.”

“It’s different y/n.”

“She’s getting older faster than we can keep up with huh?” I lean my head against Gray’s shoulder and let out a big sigh. It feels good, sitting with him here surrounded by friends. It had been a while.

Gray leans his head against mine and doesn’t answer. We watch her friends take pictures like proud parents, watching her cut and then distribute the cake. I should help, but I just could not lift a finger.

“Hey y/n, is that your phone going off?” Josie’s friend beside me points to my facedown phone.

“Is it?” I sit up, my heart doing a number in my chest.

I pick it up, 2 missed calls from Harry and 3 texts. Fuck.

“Leave it,” Gray must be looking over my shoulder. “You’ve gone home now just screw him.”

“I can’t,” I didn’t want Gray getting mad—I know he was kinda drunk and he could make a scene like this. I didn’t want to ruin Josie’s celebration. But I couldn’t ignore this. This is the first time Harry’s messaged me after I’ve gone home. “I’ll take it outside.”

On my way to the door I open the messages. A picture of a bucket filled with ice. A row of question marks. And then: call me

What? What was so urgent about a bucket of-

Oh.

Fuck.

I thought I did everything but I hadn’t. I’d filled the bucket with ice and meant to ask the Italian restaurant around the corner to deliver a bottle like they usually did for Harry but I hadn’t gotten to that part.

I feel like I’m going to vomit any dinner I just had.

I crouch down. Do I call him? Do I pretend I didn’t see this until too late? No. I had to face up. I fucked up.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

I call with shaking hands but it rings and rings and goes straight to voicemail. I try again.

I had to get back, get him the champagne. Fix my mistake.

“Y/N,” Grayson’s suddenly outside. “Aren’t you coming back in?”

“I can’t. I…” how do I explain this to my fiancé without it sounding minor as hell. “I forgot to mail some important documents and I need to get back-“

“It’s Saturday fucking night.”

“Yeah but-“

“And guess what?! Tomorrow’s Sunday! The mail’s going nowhere! Fuck that wanker and come back in.”

Gray holds out his arms and I want to go back in but I need to fix this mistake.

I grasp his hand and he smiles, misunderstanding why I held it, “Gray I have to go-“

He pulls his hand away, a sneer on his face. It hurts when he looks at me that way, like I betrayed him.

“I showed up! I celebrated, I got here Gray I just have to-“

“You were barely here! Do you know how upset she was when I said you couldn’t make it?”

“Well why did you say that!?” I demand. “I told you I was only going to be late!”

“I can’t trust that!” He shouts and I try to pull his arm so he quiets but he doesn’t seem to care there are people around. “Your time is all his, every single fucking second! And when you’re not there your brain is going a million bajillion times over about him and his life. Even when you’re with me! What the fuck! What’s up with that!?”

“Gray I’m sorry look I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. I swear. I’ll make it up to your sister I-“

“I don’t care y/n,” Gray slips his arm out of my grasp. “Do whatever you want. Nothing I say matters anymore anyway right?”

“Gray,” tears streak my face as I watch the man I love go back inside without another look my way.

Fuck Harry.

I try to call him again but voicemail. Again. Fuck!

What to do when you make a mistake: admit to it—Harry appreciates accountability. FIX IT! As much as you can. FIX YOUR MISTAKES OR FACE CONSEQUENCES.

An alert that my uber was here pings my phone—I take the ride to the restaurant and grab an already chilled bottle. I book it to Harry’s building and ride the elevator up, every floor causing a further dip in my stomach.

The doors open to a dimly lit space. There’s music playing, something jazzy, and it smells like…vanilla? Vanilla roses?

“Hol-hold on,” I hear Harry chuckle. A head pops up from the other side of the sofa.

“Y/n?” He looks as confused as I am.

Oh my god, I realize as a giggle comes from the floor. They were on the fucking floor of the living room? They were on the floor of the living room f…what the fuck did I walk into?

“Just back with this,” I squeak, holding up the bottle.

“Harry did you invite someone else?” The voice asks from below with another laugh. He sighs, disappearing again. I hear a very distinct wet noise before he pops back up again, I look at the doors of the elevator trying even harder not to give in to the panic attack that was looking more and more tempting.

“What are you doing here?” Harry approaches me with a softened voice. Wearing a robe. A silk robe. I knew he wore silk.

“You called—the bottle I’m sorry it totally slipped my mind I-“

“I told you to call me?”

“I did, you didn’t pick up! I thought I should swing by-“

“I thought you had a party?” His forehead scrunches.

“I…” the pieces come together. Did I take this too seriously because Harry didn’t even look angry? Great. I was an idiot and proving to Harry I had no life. “It ended. Early. I…I wanted to fix my mistake and bring the bottle.”

He takes it from my hand, still confused. “Y/N.”

I wait for him to continue but he doesn’t. And lord, in this climate with him in just a robe hearing my name on his lips is not okay. I was going to pass out.

“I’ll leave.” I go back to the elevator but he starts talking again.

“I asked you to call me so I could ask-“ he stops when I turn back around to listen. He closes the gap between us again with a sigh, and I don’t realize my face was still streaked with tears. It was probably more noticeable in the elevator light. He takes his finger and swipes across my cheek, his brows furrowing.

“Sorry,” I swipe my cheek to remove the remaining evidence. “I’ll leave you to it.”

He clears his throat and takes a step back. “Thank you for coming back.”

I nod.

“If you’re going to leave early next time, make sure you finish everything I’ve asked you to do. Don’t skip out like this again.”

“Yes yeah of course,” I stutter, relieved to fit back into our usual roles. For a second there, I thought Harry was going to be kind. And that would have been way worse.

“Good night Y/N. See you Monday.”

“Good night Mr. Styles.”

Gray’s not home by the time I get back. I wake the next morning to his side untouched.

So I do the only thing that felt good these days, I curl up into a ball and cry.

***

Taglist - leave me a message if you’d like to join it :)

[choccyhearts]

Clogged Drain (Eddie Munson x Reader) (18+)

Note: I've had this idea buzzing around my head for a while ^_^ not sure when part 2 will be posted tho

CW: 18+!! Oral sex (m & f), recorded sex, talk of pornos, looots of dirty talk/innuendos, fem!/afab!reader

You and Eddie have always had a healthy sex life. Always willing to try anything, you guys have discovered things about each other you didn't know were there!

A few years into marriage, you anticipated the inevitable dry spell to happen, but it never did. You both came up with spicy ideas to keep things interesting.

So, one day you came up with an interesting fantasy that Eddie immediately got on board with.

A sex tape.

You joked about how silly, but also really hot, it would be to film a sex tape. Eddie thought it was a great idea, but you wanted to take it a little further. You told him you wanted to shoot it like a real trashy porno movie -- a stupid plot, bad acting, euphemisms and innuendos aplenty, and a variety of camera angles.

Eddie was a little skeptical, worried you wanted to film an actual film in front of people, but you reassured him the two of you could pull it off.

You already owned a video camera and some tapes, so your fantasy wasn't too hard to create. All you had left to do was get some costumes and a basic outline for a script and you were set.

And that's how you ended up standing in the kitchen wearing a skimpy dress and an apron with heels pretending to wash dishes. The video camera was pointed at you as it sat on the counter behind you.

Eddie walks in wearing an unbuttoned shirt with a white tank top underneath, a pair of old jeans, his pair of work boots and clutched in his hand is his tool box.

"'Scuse me ma'am," Eddie drawls.

You turn and face him surprised.

"Oh! Hello! You must be the plumber!" He nods.

"Yes ma'am. Sorry I let myself in, door was open", his eyes scan your body.

"Oh it's no problem at all!" You stop "washing the dishes" and take off your rubber gloves.

"So, what seems to be the problem?"

"Well", you bend over and open the cabinet under the sink. "This has been having trouble draining, I think it's clogged." You turn to him and innocently bat your eyes.

Eddie stares at your ass as it peaks out from under your dress. Already, he's sporting a semi just from looking at his beautiful wife.

He clears his throat," Clogged drain? That's an easy fix. Shouldn't take me too long..."

You move out of the way and let him kneel down to inspect under the sink.

"That's so good to hear! I guess it must've been a while since I had my...drain snaked. I would do it myself but...I think other people do it best." You twirl your hair as you gaze down at Eddie. He looks up at you, a smirk on his face.

"Of course, ma'am. Sometimes it takes a new set of hands to reach the right spot." Eddie winks and you walk over to the camera to turn it off.

Immediately, you both burst into giggles. Eddie waves for you to come over to him but you shake your head.

"Mm-mm, save it for the video."

"Ahh, baby, please. I need to touch my wife", Eddie pouts.

"And you will", you begin to set up the camera in a different angle. "Later."

Once the camera is ready, Eddie lies under the sink on his back. You press record before bringing over a glass of lemonade.

"Here you go, sir. Thought you might be thirsty from working so hard."

Eddie crawls out from under the sink and takes the lemonade.

"Ah, thank you ma'am." He takes a swig and smiles. "So sweet. Ya know, I love tasting...sweet things."

You giggle in character which makes Eddie almost break. You take the glass away from him and kneel down beside him.

"So, have you made any progress?"

"Almost. This clog seems to be a big one. Must've been a real long time since you had it fixed, huh?"

"Yes sir", you blush.

"Well, in the future, you should call me. Don't want it getting to the point of frustration, would we?"

"No sir", you shake your head. You feel your pussy throb as you begin to get turned on. It was hard not to, honestly. In this shot, Eddie now has his button-up off and a little grease on his face.

You feel ready to pounce on him but decide to wait it out just a liiitle longer.

Eddie goes back under the sink and pretends to work. You begin to play with the collar of your dress and eye Eddie's body.

"So, do you work out for the job or is that something you do for fun?"

Eddie chuckles, hearing the way your voice wavers a bit. He can tell you're slowly getting needier and needier.

"Actually, I don't work out at all. The job keeps me in shape enough."

You sigh dreamily and gently place your hand on his stomach.

"Wow, your wife must be happy."

"Nah, don't got a wife."

"Oh...a girlfriend?"

"Nope, no girl in my life."

You hum and rub his stomach softly.

"What about you, ma'am? Pretty little thing like you's got to have a man who'd kill me if he saw me alone with you."

You giggle and slowly lift his shirt up, admiring his torso. Eddie wasn't ripped or toned, but he still looked reaaal good. He had a nice stomach with enough pudge to show he definitely ate his fair share of your cooking. He also had a gorgeous happy trail that always made you feel flushed when you saw it.

"Nope, I don't have a man. I'm all alone here...that's why I needed to call you to fix my drain."

"Aw, that's quite a shame. Bet'cha if you had a man, you'd know how to treat him right, huh?"

You notice how his bulge grows larger. You delicately run your fingers along the outline, biting your finger on your other hand.

"Yes sir. I would keep him very happy." You press down on his bulge with more pressure and he shifts his hips, wanting to just ravage you immediately.

"Hmm...seems this drain issue is bigger than I thought. It might take longer than expected. That okay?"

You nod, "Yes sir."

You go back to rubbing his dick through his jeans as he tries his best focus on not moaning just yet.

"Is there anything I can do for you while you work?"

"Mmm", he hums. "I think you know what you could do."

You smile and begin to undo his belt. Eddie feel excitement pool into his stomach. He knows what's about to happen, I mean of course he does, but for whatever reason this time is even more exciting.

You undo his pants and slide them off, leaving his underwear on. You palm him through the thin fabric and feel a wet spot soaking through.

"Wanna show me how you would keep a man happy?"

"Yes, sir."

You pull down his underwear and gasp at his size. While he knows you're doing it for the camera, Eddie can't help how much his ego swells. You slowly begin to pump his cock,face shocked by the size.

"That's a good girl", Eddie mutters.

You speed up your pace, rubbing your thumb over the tip. You can't help but marvel at Eddie. This is definitely not your first time, but just getting to sit back and really get a look at him makes you truly drink in his beauty.

"Think you could suck it?"

"Mmm, yes, sir."

You let a glob of spit fall on to the head of his cock, using your hand to lubricate his size. You slowly lean your head down before sitting back up.

"Wait!"

"What's wrong?", Eddie struggles to quickly get out from under the sink.

"Need to change the angle!" You get up and stop recording. You take the camera off of the tripod and hold it out for Eddie. "Here!"

"You want me to...?"

"Yeah, it'll be interesting, like 'POV'!""

"Alright, as long as I'm the only one who sees this 'POV'." You giggle and nudge Eddie before sitting back on the floor.

Eddie leans his back against the cabinet and begins recording.

You wrap your hand around his cock again and slowly lower your head down. You kiss the tip before opening your mouth and taking him in. Eddie sucks his teeth as he watches you.

He's seen you do this countless amount of times but seeing it through the viewfinder makes it feel sexier.

He gently sets a hand in your hair.

"Ooh, such a good girl. Mmm, you suck it so nice."

You hum in acknowledgement and continue hollowing your cheeks around him. Eddie brushes your hair away from your face and strokes your cheek. You continue stroking the length you can't fit in your mouth, your other arm propped up on his legs for balance.

"Oh, christ. Your mouth feels so good, baby." Eddie is usually a dirty talker during sex, so this isn't much different than your usual times together. However, since it's now on camera, recorded forever, you think his dirty talk is hotter. Despite the fact that this tape will never see the light of day, if someone were to see it, they'd know how good you take care of Eddie. How quickly you can turn him into putty in your hands.

After a few more minutes, Eddie begins to get antsy.

"You're such a good girl, lemme show that pussy of yours some lovin'".

He turns off the camera and sets it down. You sit up and try to fix your hair but Eddie pulls you by the throat into a kiss.

"Mmm, shit, you're so hot. I just need to fuck you now", he moans into the kiss.

"Mhm...not yet." You pull away and Eddie tucks himself back into his boxers before picking up the camera.

He presses record just as you begin to untie your apron. You pull it off and throw it far away from you.

"Such a sexy body, I need to see what's under that dress."

You blush and slowly pull the dress over your head, tossing it over to the apron. Now you're sat in a new set of lingerie, bought specifically for this occasion. Eddie nearly drools at the sight.

"Oh ffffuck, that's so sexy." You slowly pull down your panties and toss them at him. With the camera, he looks down at the panties in front of him. "Oh, sugar, they're so damp."

He lifts them up to his nose and sniffs them offscreen.

"Eddie!", you whisper shout to him, breaking character.

"What, I can't have some fun?", he says before tucking the panties in his back pocket. He points the camera back at you and you spread your legs wide open for him.

"I know you said you like sweet things, so why don't you come here and give me a taste?"

Eddie dives into your pussy, setting the camera on your stomach. You quickly hold it and angle it towards him as he eats you like a starved man.

"Oh! God!" He leans away and spits on your clit before going back in, tongue twirling around. He gently nudges his index finger against your entrance, checking if it's safe to enter. "Please, sir."

He chuckles and slips his finger inside. The wet squelches and obscene squeaks are a bit embarrassing, but honestly you couldn't even pretend to care. If there's anything Eddie's amazing at, it's eating pussy.

Your hands shake as you try to hold the camera steady. Eddie glances up at it occasionally, smirking into the lens. He'll stare straight into the camera and over enthusiastically lick your pussy, as if making sure the imaginary audience understands that this is his territory and only he gets to be down there.

After Eddie has slipped a second finger into you you're ready to hit your climax. He doesn't slow down, instead keeping a steady pace, ready for your sweet juices.

"Oooh, fuck! I'm gonna cum! Fuck, I'm gonna cum, sir!"

"Yeah, that's it, sugar. Cum for me. Cum on my fingers."

You do just that, tensly holding on to the camera while Eddie helps guide you along. Once you come down he pulls out his fingers and pops them into his mouth.

"So fucking sweet, baby. I need to get a drink from the source." He leans down and sticks his tongue inside your pussy. You whine and pull at his hair, overstimulated but loving his touch.

He slurps and kisses your pussy, eyes closed happily.

"So delicious. If I was your man, I'd have to eat you up every morning for breakfast." He sits up and licks his lips.

You smile up at him and mouth "I love you". He winks at you, letting you know he means it back.

"Well", he pulls off his tank top. "Looks like we've made some progress in that clogged drain. However, I think I need to get deeper in there to help."

"How deep, sir?", you say innocently. Eddie has to hold back a grin so he doesn't break character.

"All the way, darling."

(Part 2)

Stopping this here for a breather ^_^

[twilightmalachite]

Big Ocean - Those Who Throw Away and Those Who Pick Up 1

Author: Nishioka Maiko (with Akira)

Characters: Hinata, Yuuta, Tetora, Sora

Translator: Mika Enstars

"(It’s wobbling, and wavering… Like a shimmer of hot air. Is he scared…?)"

Season: Winter

Location: Sky Garden (SSVRS)

Hinata: ‘Scuse me…

Tetora: Ah, Hinata-kun. What’s the verdict?

Hinata: …Sigh. It’s as you said earlier, Tetsu-kun. This year, instead of the Repayment Fes, it’ll be the White Chocolat Fes.

Or rather… They’re returning to the first concept of Repayment Fes, and making it into a lighter event.

And as such, White Chocolat Fes was created.

Tetora: Such a large-scale change out of nowhere... Is there a reason for it?

Hinata: Who knows? It doesn’t seem to have been the student council’s idea, though. Seems there’s some adult power at work here that we don’t know about?

Sigh~… And I was so full of motivation when I began this project, too~. I didn’t expect to be thrown off on the wrong foot so suddenly like this.

Tetora: Right~… Everything I was so enthusiastic about suddenly vanished, now I just feel overwhelmed now.

Location: Road to Yumenosaki Academy

Hinata: Sigh…

(Why did they have to change it starting this year…? The timing is horrible!)

(Yuuta-kun was looking forward to the Repayment Fes and everything!)

(And I was, too.)

(Is what I get for trying to repair things between us this under the guise of an event?)

(But I don’t have a choice. We’re further apart than friends or siblings, but we’re closer than just friends or as a senior and junior.)

(I’m sure Yuuta-kun and I will figure out what to do. I know that, but it’s not that simple anymore… So…)

Sigh…

I was really looking forward to Repayment Fes…

Location: Starmony Dorms Common Room

Hinata: I’m back~…

Yuuta: ……

Hinata: (…Hm? Uwah, it’s always at times like this I run into Yuuta-kun!)

(Agh… He was so enthusiastic yesterday, there’s no way I can just return and go “Repayment Fes is a bust~☆” today just like that…!)

(I have to be a good big brother, I can’t bring disappointment to my beloved Yuuta-kun!)

(So, instead… I’m gonna sneak back into my room before he spots me!)

(Tip… and toe…)

Sora: ? Why’s Hina-chan walking in a strange way, like a chicken~?

Hinata: Uhyah!?

My mission was to make sure Yuuta-kun didn’t notice me! I didn’t expect someone to suddenly appear from the other direction!

Sora: Hmm? Did Hina-chan not want Sora to notice him? Sora’s sorry~. He noticed you…

Hinata: Oh no, it’s okay. I mostly just don’t want Yuuta-kun to notice me.

Yuuta: What do you mean you don’t want me to notice you?

Hinata: Ugyah!? Yuuta-kun’s noticed me…!

Yuuta: I mean, you’re talking loudly, so of course I noticed? It’s only to be expected.

So? What’re you hiding that calls for me to not notice you?

Hinata: Wh-what’re you talkin’ about~!? Can’t you see your Onii-chan just got back? I’m hooome! ☆

Yuuta: ……

Sora-kun, Aniki’s obviously acting suspicious, isn’t he?

Sora: Eh!? Ummm… Ummm?

(Hina-chan’s trying to hide something, and Yuu-chan’s trying to find out~?)

(Those are two opposite things, Sora can’t do both. What’s the right thing to do in this situation…!?)

Umm… This is troubling… Ummmm…

Yuuta: Look, since you won’t honestly confess, Aniki, Sora-kun’s in a dilemma. Is it really okay to keep inconveniencing Sora-kun like this?

Hinata: Uuu…

G-Got it~… I’ll explain myself.

So, the truth is—

Time passes…

Sora: Umm… So basically, the Repayment Fes is the White Chocolat Fes now?

Hinata: Yeah, apparently…

Yuuta: Whaaat? That was it? You shouldn’t have hid it so insinuatingly then, Aniki. You were acting so suspicious I thought it was something much worse than that, you know.

Hinata: But, the two of us were so excited yesterday when we were discussing this and that~. Isn’t it disappointing for it to all just disappear just like that?

I didn’t want to let you down, as your older brother…

Yuuta: Let down or not, it’s already been decided, there’s nothing we can do about it. No matter how much we say we wanna do the Repayment Festival, it won’t happen.

Either way, our ideas yesterday can apply to the White Chocolat Fes too, so it’s all gone to waste, right~?

Hinata: But…

No, if you say so Yuuta-kun, then it’ll be fine.

Sora: ……

Yuuta: Hm? What’s up, Sora-kun? You’re staying at my face. Did I say something weird?

Sora: Nope, not at all~!

(Disappointment…? Is Yuuta-kun feeling let down? What a super strange color~.)

(It’s wobbling, and wavering… Like a shimmer of hot air. Is he scared…?)

(It’s like an important toy was dropped to the bottom of a deep pond. The sort of desolation knowing it’ll be back ever again… But also relief?)

(…Dunno. Sora can’t seem to understand! How does desolation make someone feel relieved~?)

Today is troubling, full of contradicting things.

Yuuta: Ahaha, what’s that supposed to mean? What a strange day!

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[hyenahunt]

Bankara Graffiti: We Who Never Learn - 2

Writer: Akira

Season: Winter

Characters: Kohaku, Hiyori, Jun, Tatsumi

Proofreading: Remy (JP) & honeyspades (ENG)

Translation: hyenahunt

Kohaku: I-I heard it was gonna be 'bout "enjoyin' a normal youth", so that's what I was lookin' forward to...

Location: Simultaneously, in a Reimei Academy hallway

Kohaku: I'm Kohaku Oukawa, an'...d I'm sixteen years old.

It's my first time doing this type of work, so I'm kind of nervous —

Huh, y'mean I don't hafta talk in a Tokyo accent? I can be myself a lil' more?

Well, ain't that a relief. Puts me right more at ease too, y'see... ♪

Try as I might, the Tokyo accent... or standard Japanese? — that kinda stuff — it just ain't for me.

Kohaku: Wait, that got mighty off-topic. Are we gonna hafta cut that?

Huh? It was cute so we're gonna leave it in? ‘Cause it's a livestream? Ah, well, if that ain’t an issue then that's fine with me, I s'pose.

Mm~ Just like on Love☆Star, though, I don't have a single clue what the usual norm fer right an' wrong is.

Oopsie, I'm chattin' too much, ain’t I? Er... I'm the new transfer student attendin' Bankara Academy, it looks like.

Though I'm kinda curious 'bout why I'm the only one playin' a different role from the rest.

(Well, reckon it's 'cause I'm the only one who never went ta school in the first place. Since I'm clueless as all get out 'bout the whole thing, I'm gonna act a lil' outta sorts either way an' all.)

(Betcha they're gonna play it off as the new student jitters, what with me bein' all nervous an' naive an' unused to any of it~)

(Honestly speakin', they're doin' a real favour for someone as lost as I am right 'bout now.)

(Well, no matter. 'Fore I waste anymore time, let's get this first day of school started.)

Kohaku: "'Scuse me, hello~? I'm the new transfer student, Kohaku —"

Hiyori: Hyahaaaah~ ☆

Jun: Hyahaaah~! A warm welcome to ya, transfer student!

Kohaku: Hwewh!?

Jun: Getcha ass back heeeeere!

Kohaku: Wait, um, I don't get any of this! Not a single thing, I’m tellin’ ya! The hell's all this? What're ya wavin' a steel pipe around an' tryna attack me fer, Jun-han!?

Jun: You're really askin' that? It's just how things work here at Bankara Academy~ Hyahaaa! ☆

Tatsumi: Hyahaaa...♪

Kohaku: Hold up, what's this "hyahaaa" thing you've been yellin'? What kinda foreign greeting is that!?

Tatsumi: Hmm. In the end I can't help but feel bad for him, so would you grant me permission to give Kohaku-san an explanation, Boss?

Hiyori: Yes, by all means! The Leader of your gang is most magnanimous, you'll find!

Mm? Wait, perhaps it would be more manly to not permit it? Jun-kun, what do you think?

Jun: Don't ask me, I don't have a clue~ I'm sure you can tell just by the looks of it, but everything's flown over my head and I'm just fudging things myself.

Tatsumi: Haha. Kohaku-san, please come this way. This will be your seat from today onwards.

Kohaku: Ah, alright... I'm already hankerin' ta get myself home, though. Seriously, what's goin' on?

Wasn't Bankara Academy meant to be a program for watchin' us lead normal school lives an' all?

Or is it more like... Well, I'm none the wiser, but is this jus' how normal schools are like? Ya go around greetin' each other with violence instead of a "how do you do"?

Jun: Ah, I don't think it's normal~ But Bankara Academy's basically supposed to be set in the sort of school you'd see in delinquent manga.

Kohaku: Delinquent manga...?

Jun: And a really old-fashioned one at that, see~?

Hiyori: That's right. Bankara Academy itself is a show that dates way back, after all.

Jun: To sum it up, it's like, y'know, the kind of thing where guys wear long biker jackets as they break the speed limit on their motorbikes and start brawling the moment they lock eyes. Catch my drift?

Kohaku: Nope, don't reckon I do... Everythin' up 'til now has plumb flown over my head...

I-I heard it was gonna be 'bout "enjoyin' a normal youth", so that's what I was lookin' forward to...

Jun: Aw, that's gotta be a bummer for you~... Though on that note, you’ve got the right idea, Sakura-kun. Officially, it's supposed to look that way.

But if the program just showed normal school lives and nothing else, then that'd be an issue.

Hiyori: That's putting it bluntly, of course!

Tatsumi: Indeed. So that's why the setting wound up as a place that you'd expect trouble to crop up in every day.

In fact, I get the feeling that causing trouble is actually encouraged.

For that purpose, they set up a system of "Manliness Points" — also known as MP.

Kohaku: Ah, hold up jus' a sec. I'm pretty sure I ain't gonna remember technical terms like that, so I'm gonna make a note of that in the notebook I brought.

Hiyori: Ahaha, this scene on its own would look perfectly at home during a normal school day!

✦✦✦✦✦

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[formerprincewille]

I was tagged by @pamouche and @borborai in this and I finally gotten around to doing it. Thanks so much!

Fav wtfock s3 things: honestly I could go on for hours about my love for this season it’s One of my favorite things to exist in the entire world. I have re-watched it so many times and it always leaves me feeling so happy. Some specifics: Robbe IJzermans, sweet sunshine, love and light of my life, I would throw myself in front of traffic for that boy I love him so much. He captured my heart in a way few ever have. This boy. He’s just such a caring and compassionate person. He’s got his little shit attitude, and he’s definitely a tiny brat, but he is also so full of love to give. I love that he’s not flashy. He’s not somebody that a lot of people are going to notice in a crowd. He’s overlooked by everyone, including his friends. But when you get to know him you see how remarkable he is, because few people are that genuinely good. And the way he grew from hurt and lonely and angry and afraid to happy and confident and not only accepting but proud of who he is makes me cry happy tears. He’s just the best. But the other best is the yin to his yang, his beautiful, wonderful, cool, bold, funny, sweet, and completely dorky art hoe of a soul mate, Sander Driesen. When I think of what my ideal Even would be, he is it. His heart is just right there for everyone to see and he doesn’t hide it. In fact he’s extra about showing it. He’s also vulnerable and needy and feels so very young to be going through such large struggles. He makes me laugh and cry and I would dive in front of the Skam France car for him as well. Love that kid so much. Sobbe. Do I really need to say it? Holy shit they are everything. Soulmates, best friends, loves of each other’s lives. Their chemistry is so good that it doesn’t even exist in this stratosphere. It’s otherworldly. The love that they feel for each other is tangible. They’re one of those couples that when I look at them I think “now those two are going to make it”. You can just feel it. They also somehow manage to hit on so many beloved fanfic tropes but remain realistic because it’s actually canon. Like when couples in fanfic will call each other pet names but it’s rare you actually see it in canon. But sobbe is like hold my beer and goes all out with it. The way they express their love to each other is exactly what the other one needs. Sander is loud end boisterous and goes all out to make it clear to Robbe and everyone else on earth how he feels about this boy. He gives him things to make him feel special and he’s full of affection for him. Robbe is also extremely affectionate, he tells Sander what he needs to hear to feel safe and loved and they love spending time together. Their love is a balm for one another that soothes them both. And it’s clear that neither of them need the other more nor ever did. They both needed one another and met at a time in our lives that they were both in pretty low places and were exactly what the other needed. And they always will be. Sorry, getting emotional again. They’re the otp to end all otps. 🥺 The Soundtrack. I love every single song on the soundtrack. All of them, and I listened to the soundtrack so much on my Spotify that my entire top songs of 2020 were made up of wtfock s3 songs. They not only have excellent musical choices, but they are all placed within scenes so well that they perfectly complement what is happening in the narrative at any given point. Casa Milan and Zoenne and Robbe aka Flatshare Fam. I want to live there. It is so warm, it is so inviting, and it is filled with such love. The support that Robbe got from Milan, Zoë, and Senne was unmatched. I don’t know where he would’ve been without it. Could you imagine if he had had to live with his dad? How differently his story could’ve ended up? Especially with Milan, having someone not much older than he is who has gone through a lot of the same things he has. He was such a big brother figure and mentor and I’m so glad Robbe had that.

Fav clip: Scuse me I’m not picking just one so Dinsdag 16:31, Zaterdag 09:41, Woensdag 21:21, Mandaag 11:03, Zaterdag 08:44 and Woensdag 16:36

Fav scene: Their Vrijdag 21:21 reunion, morning after, ohn/mbm, singing to a shoe, the hotel scenes, and the grocery store. I’m not really sure of the distinction between a scene and a clip 😂

Fav shot: Oh god don’t make me choose. Their hands in Dinsdag 16:31 is a big one. The dual mirror shots of Robbe after Milan tells him about gay pride before the attack to him bruised and battered after. When Robbe is kneeling down beside Sander in Mandaag 11:03. The shot of Milan, Robbe, and Sander playing the pandemic game all cozy by the Christmas tree. Any shots of Robbe and Sander making heart eyes and/or kissing. Any close ups of Robbe’s face and eyes bc Herbots, man. Good god he’s amazing.

Fav kiss that Robbe initiates: Woensdag 21:21, Dinsdag 07:27 and Woensdag 17:21

Fav kiss that Sander initiates: Zaterdag 09:41, Dinsdag 16:31, and Vrijdag 21:21

Fav Sander dialogue: Can I say everything? Okay okay, I’ll give some examples. “Wow, that’s expensive!” “You and me, a hundred percent forever, in every universe.” “I’m holding onto you and I’m never letting go of you.” “🎵Ground control to major Tom. Circuit dead there’s something wrong.🎵” “Are you going to leave me behind?” (🥺) “Zero stars on booking.com.” “The moonlight was shining down on you and I knew immediately ‘he is the one’.” “Get ready to be mindblown!” “All the way or no way.” “Take it or leave it, eh?” “You could try bribing the teacher.” “Robin.” Also literally everything he said during wtfockdown because there’s not a moment where he isn’t iconic. But a really special moment, “Just because other people are close minded doesn’t mean that you should make your world smaller.”

Fav Robbe dialogue: “You touched me and I’ve never felt something like that.” “That kiss was really *head explosion noises*.” “Not in this universe.” “Sander, there is something between us. I love you.” “Jawel.” (I just love the way he says it, it’s so fuckin cute). “Fuck Chernobyl.” “Always.” And of course, his verse in eenvoud.

Fav hug: Mandaag 11:03 when Robbe holds a crying Sander. Also, does the spooning and cuddling in the hotel scenes and Dinsdag 07:27 count? Because I love that. Also Woensdag 17:21. Or really anytime Robbe is being a clingy koala. And we can’t forget his hug with Milan after he tells him about the attack. He really needed that comfort.

Fav 21:21: Nope. Nah in all seriousness they just hit different. Woensdag is my favorite in terms of clip alone because from beginning to end it is just so beautiful and perfect. The music, the tunnel, the pool, the kiss, just absolutely gorgeous. But at that time everything was still really new between them and the aftermath of that was rough. Vrijdag is my favorite clip in terms of what it means for Robbe and Sander. The clip itself is shorter, but it has much larger impact in terms of sobbe’s relationship. It’s not just their first time physically, but their emotional declaration to one another as well. It comes with a commitment. Also them falling off the bed laughing is the greatest thing ever. They are so HAPPY. So basically my answer is both, just in different ways.

Fav Sobbe instagram pic: Why are all these questions so mean? Okay- their first one together obviously because along with Robbe’s caption it’s just a showing of their love being official. But also the grocery cart pics for their 6 month anniversary. The grocery store pic in Ardennes getaway. Robbe’s bday pics of them embracing they’re SO HAPPY omg. And of course, we cannot forget the pic posted for Sander’s birthday. It is absolutely perfect. I love it so much.

Fav song/scene pair: I have a few- both examples of wildfire obviously, past lives in Zaterdag 09:41, and rebel rebel at the grocery store. But I have two more that are not at all happy clips but are two of my fave clips regardless: life on mars/zaterdag 21:43 (that scene is impeccable along with its followup which I consider them a pair but LoM only plays in the first one) and I found/zondag 15:12 (my god I love that scene it’s brilliant).

Fav message between Sander and Robbe: Woensdag 12:45 when Sander sends Robbe the sketch of them and talks about that kiss earlier being Chernobyl. Also everything during wtfockdown but especially “I love you so much Robin.” “I love you too. So damn much.” But honestly they had so much adorable banter during those clips we were truly fed.

Fav banter on Instagram: lmaooo they’re always so thirsty on main you could pick a million examples. I will say I loved their back and forth about emojis on their anniversary.

I will tag @onzeziggy @everyone-has-their-story @bowieexaminprogress @sanderxrobbee @ayellowcurtain and whoever else wants to do it. This was fun!

[sourbkg]

[suga] [when will i see you again; shakka]

┊- i  ͙۪۪̥˚┊get up, you know i’ll see you again┊ [ -ˏ��⋆ˊˎ- ] song used 一∘.· [ -ˏˋ⋆ˊˎ- ] sugawara koushi x reader 一∘.· [ -ˏˋ⋆ˊˎ- ] mafia!au 一∘.·

[ -ˏˋ⋆ˊˎ- ] 𝙃𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙨 𝙛𝙖𝙩𝙚 was against him the moment he was born; having been brought into a family working directly beside the leader of the Karasuno Mafia group for generations, and not wanting to be the first to break whatever line of power they may have accumulated. Sugawara learned from a young age how to be a perfect right-hand. He knew how to load a gun by the time he learned how to do basic multiplication, and knew how to take someone down twice his size at the same time he figured out the difference between throwing knives and switchblades- all in the same year.  

Sugawara was 20 when he first met you, watching you wipe down counters in a seedy bar Daichi liked to frequent. He wondered if you enjoyed your job; being ogled by others as you ask what type of drink they’d like, or snickering when you switch out their tequila for water when they’ve had too much. Sometimes you’d catch his eye, but he’d look away just as fast, leaving you to wonder if he was staring at you in the first place. 

There were some nights when someone sketchy would be around you for too long, looking you up and down like a piece of meat. Sugawara didn’t mind taking it upon himself to teach them a lesson; whether it be to not leer at others who are obviously uncomfortable, or to just not stare at what he’s obviously interested in, he didn’t know. Regardless, there was unnecessary blood on his hands, all in an effort to defend you. 

And you didn’t seem to know a thing about it. Sometimes, he could hear you asking a coworker what happened to certain regulars, wondering why they just stopped frequenting the bar, then explaining that you’re grateful they aren’t at the bar. That they made you uncomfortable, but you still wish good health upon them despite their not-so-kind-intentions. 

Sugawara liked that about you. You were kind; forgiving, even if the person didn’t deserve your forgiveness. 

One night, while Daichi, Sugawara, and Asahi were talking about strategies, ways to get product a from location one to location two, he picked up your voice under the sound of loud music and his friends’ voices. It was strange, being able to hear it over anything, the only time you’re usually heard being when someone’s directly ordering from you. With a glance behind him, he sees why he hears you. 

A customer, he can assume, drunk, had you by the wrist, looking like he was attempting to drag you over the counter. With a nudge to his best friend and boss, and a nod of his head, the man had captured the rest of the group's attention. Wordlessly, the three slide out of their booth, Daichi putting out what remained of his cigarette and tossing a good amount of cash on the table, before tucking his wallet on the inside of his jacket. 

“Isn’t that the bartender you’ve been making heart eyes at?” Sugawara feels Asahi lean over his shoulder to ask, hands shoved in his pockets and feeling for whatever weapon he may have. Sugawara doesn’t look away from the situation, but doesn’t deny the claim. 

“Excuse me.” Someone says, loudly. You find yourself pausing trying to escape the drunk patron’s grasp, eyes meeting the group of regulars you’ve become used to. The darker haired man is the one who spoke, Daichi, you think you’ve heard them call him. He stands behind the man with his arms crossed, his friends flanked on either side of him. The man holding your arm pauses as well, sneer present on his face as he glances to whoever he assumes spoke. 

“Yer ‘scused.” He says, grip tightening when you pull yourself out of your stupor and attempt to use the distraction as a way to yank your arm away. The glare he sends has you freezing all over again, eyes meeting the hardened stares of the men behind him. 

“You’re bothering this bartender.” The man with his hair in a bun states the obvious, hands fidgeting in his pants pockets. 

Daichi steps forward, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder with a tight-lipped smile, “Why don’t we take a trip outside. Have a little chat?” 

The man eyes the hand on his shoulder with a growl, leaving you to stumble backwards as he lets go of your wrist to shove the appendage off. Without a second thought, it seems, Daichi uses his hands position to turn the man around before delivering a punch right to the apple of his cheek. 

“I said ‘let’s take a trip outside’,” he reiterates, “so, let’s take a trip outside.” 

With a nod to the man with a manbun, Daichi wipes his hands on a handkerchief and the brunette guides the offender towards the door. You stare at their backs as they leave, holding your arm to yourself as a means of defense as if the man would somehow break free and direct his newfound anger towards you. 

You jump when the remaining patron speaks, eyes wide and brows furrowed. You didn’t catch a word he said. 

“What?” You ask, willing your voice to not shake. 

“I asked if you were okay,” he says, voice soft. You find yourself nodding, despite your lip being pulled between your teeth as your eyes flit between him and the door. “Do you have time for a break?,” he continues, “you deserve one.” 

You look back at him, then glance behind you to the door that leads to your bosses office before shaking your head, “I-I.. I don’t, no-” 

“Then let’s go talk to your boss, see how he feels about Daichi having to deal with one of *his* customers.” 

He’s guiding you around the bar’s counter before you can really process it, grip soft on your upper arm as he leads you to the door you had just been looking to. 

“We don’t have to,” you try to sound assuring, “I’m fine.”

You know he doesn’t believe you from the way he eyes your trembling hands, “It won’t hurt to try, right?” And he gives you a smile, something sweet like honey and completely fighting the dread that had previously settled into your stomach. 

He knocks on the door before you can really think to protest, waiting patiently for your boss to answer while his hand moves from your arm to your lower back; maybe it’s to keep you grounded. To keep you from scurrying away from confrontation. 

Sugawara's hand settles on your lower back as an excuse to touch you, but also to make you remain in place beside him. He’s almost certain, if given the opportunity, you would’ve left the second you were able to. Within a few minutes, the door is swinging open, and the two of you are faced with your boss. 

A short, stocky man who holds a cigar between his teeth. His glare settles on you first, and you avert your gaze to the floor instead. Sugawara clears his throat, feeling your muscles tense underneath his fingers. At the sound, his eyes cut to Sugawara, before they widen a fraction and he ushers the two of you into the cramped office. 

It reeks of mildew throughout the room, and Sugawara wonders if this bar was really the *only* place you could find to work. You deserved somewhere better. 

“What can I do for you, Sugawara? Is Daichi with you?” Your boss asks, eyes finding his hand still flush against your back, “They did something wrong?” He continues, filling in gaps for himself and not waiting for a proper answer, “I can take care of them myself, just tell me what they-” 

“It isn’t anything they did.” Sugawara cuts in, voice icy and nothing compared to how he had previously spoken to you, “A customer of yours was causing a ruckus. It seems they were being harassed. Mr. Daichi, Mr. Asahi, and I had to step in. Mr. Daichi isn’t happy about it, at all, might I add.” 

He turns white at the explanation, “I-I see... I wasn’t aware this was something that... happened in my bar... “ 

“You should monitor what happens outside of this office more often,” Sugawara continues, the hand not on your back settling underneath his jacket, showing the weapon strapped to his belt. A warning. “And I’m here to give them the rest of the night and tomorrow off; compensation for having to bear the weight of something so heinous.” 

“I can’t let them go home tonight, I don’t have anyone to cover them, Sugawar-” 

“It’s Mr. Sugawara to you,” he punctuates, fingers flexing against the cool metal of his gun, “and I wasn’t asking.” 

You hear your boss gulp, sparing one glance up at the face of the man you’d deemed your savior, and seeing the steely look across his features. He wasn’t messing around or willing to compromise. 

“R-right, I’m sorry.” Your boss bows, writes something down on a piece of paper and passes it to Sugawara, “Here’s a waiver; the next time you come, drinks will be on us.” 

Sugawara takes it and shoves it in the pocket of his jacket before sending your boss a brief nod, then leads you out of the office. Daichi sits again at his regular table, the other man who you can assume is Asahi standing beside him. When the two of you approach, Daichi stands. You note briefly how red his knuckles are. He seems to take in Sugawara’s annoyed expression, looking his friend, then you, up and down. 

“Everything go okay in there?” He asks, taking it upon himself to guide your group out of the bar. 

Sugawara nods, though even you can see the tenseness in his shoulders, and feel the way his fingers flex as he continues to guide you outside by the small of your back. 

“Just peachy.” 

Asahi lets out a low whistle, “Seems like it.” 

No one makes any further comment. 

You have no idea where they’re leading you, but your apartment is in the other direction, yet you can’t find it yourself to ask. Sugawara’s armed, but you don’t think he’d hurt you... well, you hope he wouldn’t hurt you. He doesn’t seem like the type. His friends, however...

You’re brought out of your thoughts when they pause at a sleek black car; a BMW that looks more expensive than anything you own. Sugawara opens the door and gestures for you to enter. You eye him warily, giving the first bit of physical resistance since he’s begun helping you. 

“I’m not comfortable with... just getting into a stranger's car,” you cross your arms over your chest before adding quickly, “don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for everything you’ve all done so far but... I don’t know any of you.” 

Asahi gets into the front seat without a word, and Daichi eyes you from the driver’s door. 

“We’re not gonna kidnap you, if that’s you think.” He says nonchalantly. It’s not that  the thought hadn’t crossed your mind, you just didn’t want to speak it into existence. You open your mouth to reply, but Sugawara is quick to assure you. 

“We just want to make sure you get home safe; it would be kinda tragic if all our work was for naught.” He adds the last bit as a means of a joke, but you can’t help but scrunch your nose at the thought. You weigh your options. 

It *is* late out. And dark. It’s not that you’ve never walked home on your own this late, it’s just that... you’re still a little paranoid of the man from before coming out of nowhere and seeking an onslaught of revenge. And really, who are you to say no to these men after they’ve seemed to help out of the kindness of their hearts? No other person in the bar even batted an eye to your struggles. For a cherry on top, it’s a free ride- your feet are killing you. 

“Fine.” You agree after a moment, “I don’t live that far anyways.” 

Sugawara smiles at your acceptance, ushering for you to enter the vehicle, before climbing in himself and shutting the door. Dachi gives a satisfied smirk and gets in himself. As promised, the ride is short; Daichi pulling up to a curb beside a rundown apartment building. You gather what you own (which you realize, isn’t much. You’d been essentially ushered out of the bar- you hope no one steals from your work bag), and get out of the car, offering a small smile to the three. 

“Thank you for everything, I’m grateful you three were at the bar,” you pause for a moment, as if thinking of what could’ve happened if they weren’t, then shake your head, “I owe you guys. Really.” 

With one more wave goodbye, you’re unlocking the gate that leads into the building (you’re glad you at least kept your phone, wallet, and keys on your person), before going up to your own apartment. 

The next day is boring to say the least. You’re uncertain if you should abide by Sugawara getting you the night off, knowing your boss was not happy with the encounter, or being demanded on what to do. You also know you have bills to pay, groceries to buy, a life to sustain. With a huff, you’re pulling on your shoes and jacket. Too antsy to not do anything. 

When you pull the door open, a certain gray-haired man stands behind it, fist raised as if he was just about to knock. You both make a startled noise, eye widening as you take in the other person. 

“Uh... hi... ,” he says after a moment, lowering his hand until both settle themselves into his jacket pockets, “just wanted to uhm... check in on you. Are you heading out?” 

You clear your throat, blinking and glancing into your apartment for a second, “I was just heading to work... how’d you figure out which apartment is mine?” 

“Ah,” he blushes, as if he’s been caught in a secret. It’s kinda... sweet, “I just asked a tenant if they knew you. They told me what number.” 

You lean against the door-frame while puffing out your cheeks, “Well, I’m glad you’re not a murderer.” You pause, seem to rethink your words before narrowing your eyes at him, “You’re not a murderer... right?” 

“No, of course not!” He assures quickly, brows furrowing, “I’d never even think of killing you-” 

He cuts himself off when you laugh, the sound surprising him and calming his nerves at the same time. It’s cute. Really cute. You steel yourself within a few seconds, covering your mouth with your hand and letting out a few giggles. 

“So, you said you were going to work?” His shoulders perk back up, smile gracing his features as he asks. 

“I was, yes,” you hum out, “it feels weird just sitting at home, and I have things to buy.” His posture slumps. 

“Don’t tell me I got you the day off for nothing?” He asks, almost with a pout, “It’s like I said: you deserve the break. Especially after what happened yesterday.” 

“Maybe,” you shrug, “but still-” 

“Nope, no buts,” Sugawara cuts you off with a wave of his hand, “you’re taking the day off and that’s final.” 

He ushers you back into your own apartment, despite your protests. There’s a moment your eyes roam across everything you own; a stray blanket draped across your couch, some unwashed dishes in your sink, unorganized bills haphazardly thrown onto your table- you’re partially self-conscious, if only for a moment, but Sugawara is quick to draw you out of your thoughts. 

“How about we sit down and have some tea? I heard chamomile is great for helping with relaxing.” He guides you all the way to your couch, forcing you to sit by your shoulders, then steps back and points at you, “stay.” 

You hold your hands up in defense, brows raised, “I will, I will. I don’t think I have that blend, though.” 

Sugawara grins, “That’s alright, I came prepared.” He steps back towards your door, opening it and grabbing something from just outside of it; a plastic bag containing what you can assume is tea. 

“Wow, you are prepared.” You tease, moving to stand and assist him with making the brew, but the look he shoots you has your butt falling right back into the cushions. 

Instead, Sugawara continues without your help, looking through your cabinets for cups and a tea kettle. You watch from the sidelines, itching to aid him, but knowing he’d probably just ridicule you in the end; it’s funny, almost, how he basically made himself at home despite you only speaking to him once the night prior. 

It’s comfortable, the way he moves around your home without a care in the world. Within a few minutes, he’s pressing a warm cup into your hands and settling in the seat beside you. You sip on the drink, watching him do the same from the corner of your eye. 

There’s a pause, a moment of silence that isn’t unwelcome, before he asks, “So, why don’t we get to know each other?” 

Days turn into weeks that turn into months. Sugawara and his friends made themselves residents in your life, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to complain. While they were wary, and rightfully so with their “jobs”, you didn’t seem to bat an eye. 

You understood where they were coming from, you did! But, the amount of people who harassed you had dropped down to a whopping zero, since you’ve become acquainted with them. 

It’s a miracle, really. 

The Boys, as you’ve decided to call them, come in every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday during the odd hours of the night. Your boss picked up very quickly on this fact, and ensured you were scheduled for them; out of fear or for brownie points, you were uncertain, but they were nice and left an outrageous tip, so you weren’t complaining. 

You felt it was unethical, taking money from whom you’d consider friends, but they assure you it’s alright. You promise to pay them back one day. They dismiss it with a wave of their hand. 

Sugawara makes it a point to stop by when he can; personal visits to your apartment with tea and his honey-sweet grin that makes your chest flutter and knees weak. Something more grows between you, but neither of you move to comment. You only go with the flow of whatever it is. Sharing soft kisses between sips of herbal tea becomes a regular occurrence, only to be distracted by the sound of Sugawara’s phone buzzing. He’d pull away with an apologetic smile, giving you one final peck to the lips, then nose, then forehead, before standing and leaving you to do his own business. 

He doesn’t hear your silent prayers for his safety, or your whispers for him to come back to you safely. 

You don’t see the hardening of his expression the moment he’s past your door-frame, or see the blood that stains past his fingertips while the cool metal of his gun presses against his palm. 

“What keeps you coming around?” You ask one night, your tea sitting forgotten on the coffee table while your head rests in Sugawara’s lap. His hands find purchase on your cheeks, pinching them slightly as if you’d just asked the dumbest question in the world, and you retaliate by scrunching your nose and holding his wrists with a whine. 

“You, of course.” He answers without missing a beat, seeming to enjoy the rise of sudden heat he feels against his fingertips. 

“Sh-shut up.” You groan, pulling his hands from your cheeks and instead pressing them against the entirety of your face. He assumed this is in an attempt to cover your growing embarrassment, but it does nothing to stop his teasing. 

“What? I’m telling the truth.” He feels you breath heavily from your nostrils, the air tickling his palm, before you press a kiss against the worn skin. 

Now, he flushes.

A light shade of pink decorates his cheeks at the intimate contact, despite the fact that you’ve done so much more before. You pull his hands away with a hum. 

“Your cheeks are red.” You comment nonchalantly, giving him the goofiest grin. 

He smothers your face with a stray pillow in retaliation. 

A routine is built between you and Sugawara. Not one based on a schedule, or written on a calendar for you to follow; he only comes to the bar to take you home (sometimes, he allows himself to indulge you in a drink, that soon has you drunk off him, instead). 

It’s endearing, the way he makes the time to drive you somewhere that’s no more than a ten minute walk, but you can’t find it in yourself to complain. It’s an excuse to talk to him. To be with him. You enjoy it. 

Sugawara insists it’s nothing more than to ensure himself you make it home safely, but you know deep down he enjoys the time spent together as much as you do, if the hand resting peacefully on your thigh as he drives is anything to go by. He makes it a point to walk you all the way to your door, and only pauses once you're inside safely. You take it upon yourself to press a chaste kiss to his lips; the same kind that could lead to more if he’d allow it. 

Tonight, he doesn’t let himself bask in your presence, pressing a kiss to your forehead and bidding you goodnight. The promise of seeing you tomorrow after a job being the last thing on his tongue as he gives his farewell. 

Being on your phone while working was never something you’d done before meeting Sugawara- your boss's icy stare used to be enough to make you hide it away in your back pocket until the end of your shift. Being involved (if you’d even call it that), has made your boss change his mind, however, now averting his gaze when he sees you take a glance at the screen and type a quick message to the gray-haired man. 

[kou 1:47 am] Are you sure you’re alright with walking home alone? 

[me 1:48 am] i’m sure i’ll be fine:)  i’ll have some tea ready by the time you get finished

[kou 1:52 am] If you’re certain... 

[me 1:53 am] i am, focus on your job! i’ll be waiting

You jump at the sound of someone tapping a glass loudly against the bar, pushing your phone into your pocket while sending the patron an apologetic smile. He doesn’t return it, only shoving the glass in your direction and grumbling something under his breath. Quickly, you refill his glass, along with his companions; a group of about five men that you’d never seen before that had come into the bar a few minutes after your shift started and hadn’t left. 

That was at 10:00 pm. You wonder how they’ve held down their drinks so well. 

The man you’d just served remained at the bar the entirety of the night, while his acquaintances seemed to make their rounds wandering the bar. Each one had matching rings, you note, golden bands with red jewels decorating the side and a ruby sitting in the middle- the letter N carved into the gem. 

You feel his eyes on you as you do anything- from wiping down tables, to serving others their drinks, his gaze rakes over your form. From the corner of your eye, you see him lean over and speak to who you guess is closest to him; a shorter man with dyed blonde hair and dark roots, whose eyes don’t leave the device in his hands. 

His other three companions seem to be scanning the bar, each a decent length apart and making eye contact with one another. You watch the man who’d been watching you, his eyes settling on his surroundings. Black hair covers his eyes as he lifts his hand, then brings it down in a motion just as quick. 

You should’ve been able to realize what was going on before. 

The three men pull out guns- automatics, you think. You don’t stay around long enough to see, instead dropping to the ground behind the bar seconds before shots ring out. Shakily, you pull out your phone and dial Sugawara’s number, lip pulled between your teeth and praying the sounds of the guns overwhelms the sound of ringing. 

“Well, well, lookie who thought they could just hide and be safe.” 

One glance up, and you see the man leading this charge; he leans over the bar counter with a lazy grin, as if the screaming and gunfire was nothing to him. Maybe it wasn’t. 

“You’re the bartender Sugawara’s been getting cozy with, right? A shame this had to happen to your lil ole bar.” He stands at his full height, and you scramble back against the opposite side behind the bar, feeling your shoulders press against cheap alcohol and shot glasses. 

“Is that the man himself on the phone?” He continues to speak, hazel eyes skimming over your phone. 

You phone, that lays abandoned where you had just been sitting, screen lit and face up. When did you drop it? 

The call read that it’d been going on for 00:24 and counting. Maybe Sugawara answered? Or maybe it was his voicemail. God, what could he even do? It’s not like he’s at your beck and call at the moment. 

“Oi, why don’t you pass it here? Maybe we can chat about something,” his grin widens, arms shifting as he moves to grab something you can’t see behind the bar. 

You’re scrambling to your feet before you realize, grabbing a stray bottle of vodka and throwing it haphazardly in his direction. You don’t wait for the shattering of the glass, or his cursing under his breath; instead, you stumble into your bosses office and slam the door shut behind you. 

After ensuring the click of the lock, you back away from the door, glancing around the room. Your boss, you note, is nowhere to be found. The room itself is almost barren of anything, and you wonder for a moment why. 

A stray letter on his desk tells you. 

Skimming over it all you need to do; apparently writing to the leader of the Nekoma gang, and explaining for a small fee, he’d allow them to come into his bar armed with the promise of Karasuno’s new toy being there. He sold you out. 

Rattling of the door handle has you freezing. 

“Come on, cutie, don’t be shy.” Another forceful tug, “Don’t wanna hurt you,” there’s a pause. 

,“yet”

You glance around the room again with desperation. There’s nothing that you can defend yourself with- hell, would you even try if given the chance? They have guns. 

“I’m getting impatient!” 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Something slams against the door and you have to cover your mouth to hold in your scream. 

“Just make this easy for us!” 

Another hit. You can hear the wood splinter. You’re running out of time. Think, think, think.

Closet or window. Closet or window.

You open the window, breaking down the screen behind it with a huff as more splintering echoes in your ears. 

“This is irritating.” 

With one final hit, the door is thrown open. 

Kuroo Tetsurou walks into the room, pistol in hand. Kenma follows him in, glancing around the space with a grimace. 

“It smells in here.” 

“Doesn’t look like we’ll be in here long.” Yaku emerges past the two, eyes set on the opening within the wall. 

“A shame,” Kuroo sighs, putting his gun in its holster, “Yamamoto and Lev won’t be as kind as us.”��

A stray gunshot rings outside the building, and Kuroo pouts, “And here I thought we’d have something to hold over our friend’s heads. Oh well.” A shrug. 

Kenma hums, “We should get going. They’re nearby.” 

“What would we do without you, Kenma.” Kuroo’s grin returns, ruffling the shorter males hair. 

Kenma grumbles, swatting his hand away and is the first to exit the musty room. Yaku follows, snatching up the stray letting and crumbling it on his way out. Kuroo pauses, letting his eyes skim over the area one more time. 

“Kuroo, come on! We gotta pick up Lev.” 

With a sigh, the black-haired male obliges. 

You stay where you are, cramped in the closet. You don’t move, despite knowing they’re probably well away from the bar. 

It feels like hours before you find enough confidence to move, a burn in your thighs that settled forever ago. The second you move, you hear the sound of the bar’s front doors opening. You curse yourself for not leaving earlier. 

“(l/n)?” Someone calls out. You freeze all over again, recognition clear in their voice. 

Sugawara. 

There’s shuffling beyond the bar, the sound of chairs scraping and broken glass being crushed under footfall. 

“(y/n)!” You jump up at the urgency in his voice, scrambling to get out of the space and tripping over your own shaky legs just as he pushes past the broken door frame. 

The two of you stare dumbly at each other for a moment. 

“You’re okay.” He whispers, if only to assure himself. You throw yourself into his arms the second the words leave his lips, and he pulls you flush against his chest, burying his face in the crook of your neck with a shuddering sigh. 

“You’re okay.” He says again, and you nod. 

“I’m okay.” 

He pulls away a moment later, cupping your face between his hands, and wiping stray tears from your cheeks. You didn’t even realize you’d begun to cry. 

“I need you to go now,” he continues. Your brows furrow. 

“What?” 

“You need to get out of here. Go to a friends house, the library- somewhere that isn’t here or your apartment.” He explains. 

“But-” 

“I’ll find you, I swear. You just can’t be *here*.” 

Looking into his eyes, you know he’s completely serious. You nod your head. 

“Good. Okay. Asahi will take you wherever you decide to go.” 

He’s met with another nod. 

Sugawara presses a quick kiss to the crown of your hair, lips lingering for a second longer than necessary before pulling away completely. 

“I’ll see you again.”

[avefausa]

@mettatoniic​ asked:

robinrobinrobin scuse me, a question for you, honey. I want you to recall those passions for your muse (whoever you feel strongest for, theres no specific order whatsoever) and tell me what about them is so special to you. what do you resonate with? why them? what do you feel when you look at your muse? what's kept you in this side of the community for so long (bc chara and frisk). thank you xoxo

oh gosh okay... i’m very bad at starting thoughts so i’ll just try and word vomit and see what comes of it.

assuming you’re talking about my undertale muses, let’s start with chara. i’ve always been into the chaotic, villainous types so i resonated with their character almost immediately. at the time, back in 2015, i didn’t really understand the concept of a “player” and honestly i didn’t get until deltarune where’s almost literally spelled out for you. so i’ve never vibed with the concept of chara also not being manipulated by the player like frisk, or for a better example, kris -- besides that, i greatly disliked when people disregarded the very base fact that asriel called them “not a very good person”. so from how i saw it, baseline was, chara was a fuckhead. i just took it in the way that they were more villainous than just a little shit.

over time i’ve gotten over myself and i care less about other people’s interpretations, but the one i’ve created will always be mine, no matter what. my chara -- “Callie Lockhart” i dubbed her -- is my creation with a base from a character with very little information on them. worse comes to worst, she’ll just become an oc of mine! that’s basically how i treat her, anyway. FUN FACT: the name callie also stems from a pokemon oc of mine, where cal/lie stands for “Calamity” and i’ve always felt so smart for that connection teehee.

i actually spent a lot of time doing research on how to give her reasoning for her horrific actions, and though i know it’s usually quite frowned upon to do so, it all dates back to irreparable childhood trauma. further than that, she doesn’t want help, so there is absolutely no hope in her becoming a better person. she’s far beyond saving. and i love that: a disgusting villain with horrible intentions, even if they have their “reasonings” for such. besides! i know so many people that are into the idea of their muses being screwed with, and boy howdy i have always been happy to provide. i just want to make people happy, that makes me happy too!

my chara has also gone through a lot of design changes since i started musing her, and gosh i kinda want to show:

these are more or less in chronological order, all of which my art! the first two are most definitely from 2015, the last three being like 2018 probably. then we finally have our current design!:

so she’s definitely gone through a lot of changes, but i’ve loved her the whole way.

REGARDLESS, all of this effort i’ve put into her mixed together has created a love for her that i can simply never forget. so after the fandom started to die off, i kept trying to use her, until ultimately i gave up as my effort output was far too high compared to the enjoyment i got out of it. that’s why i’m so glad i’m able to do her again now!! *grabby hands at everyone* please rp with me....

as for frisk, i actually had no intentions of using them up until a week or two ago. my original chara blog was actually a -- oh god i forgot the term for it, but i made it with my friend who made a frisk? she lost interest pretty quickly though, so i was sorta left on my own. i’m not mad or anything!! (i love u nix) but up until this year, i really disliked the frisk interpretation i made for myself. i guess it also came down to the fact that i’ve never been comfortable roleplaying child muses and i always interpreted them that way.

but i actually finally came up with an idea for them that tied into my chara’s story!! i’m surprised it didn’t come to me sooner, considering i was literally writing a fanfic loosely based on their canon. so now i’m hoping that i can give my frisk the same love and attention i gave chara, even if their ability to be present is far more limited!!

um um uh i can’t think of anything else so here you go!!! if you read this i’ll give you a kiss

[downfallofi]

I’m in a really weird headspace tonight, idk.

I got offered a job at a manufacturing company, working in the field I’m going to school for, and it’s a spot in the shipping and receiving department. I’ve toured the place, I’ve gone out there and done about one day of work there, I’ve been walked through everything I’d be doing and it’s a decent entry level job. The company also provides a lot of benefits, including health and dental, 401k, they will give me access to a company card to pay for work boots and stuff. Like. So many benefits. 

But also, my sister sorta pushed for this, she set up the interview through one of her clients, and when I had some reservations about it she kind of made me feel like shit if I didn’t try to go through with the interview. So I tried it, they liked me and wanted me to come in immediately, and I’m stuck with it. 

It’s an hour and a half to 2 hours of travel time each day I work so I’m basically gonna be gone 12 hours of the day.

And again, she got me this job, so like I feel like a prime asshole for not being thrilled about it. And like, if it weren’t for Covid and all, and also if I could drive there, it might be a great job.

But we got into a big ass argument and she said that this is the first “Real Job” I’ve had in ten years, and I was like ex fucking SCUSE me? Like I feel super degraded about that, like the reason she’s pushing so fucking hard for me to keep this job is because working for Kroger isn’t a real job? Like I’m some kind of loser?

And that’s been on cycle through my brain because it feels like that’s the truth, when you’re over the age of 30 and just working at Fred Meyer. Making me feel like she talks to all of her friends behind my back about how disappointing I am, they probably have this perception of me of what a loser I am. Like just a stereotype 34 year old wrestling fan nerd failure to launch. Ever since she said I’ve not had a “real job” I’ve just been feeling like shit about myself.

Also, my dad collapsed today. He’s in the ICU, had undiagnosed COPD. He was unresponsive all day, and I was thinking about him. Old man is 67, his health is shit, he should have retired 3 years ago but he kept going.

This man abused me so badly when I was a child he beat me literally until I should have been hospitalized more than three times...

But I’m so anxious checking the phone for updates on him, worried that my stepmom is gonna tell me he didn’t make it.

I dunno. 

I kind of am harboring thoughts of like... throwing away my whole life here in Seattle. Flushing school down the drain, walking away from jobs, getting on a plane back to Virginia.

And I know when I left Virginia in 2019, I left because the environment was killing me, I was so empty and I felt - I knew in my bones that if I didn’t leave, then I was going to end up killing myself before the end of the year. I knew it in my heart.

But now I just.

I feel like I’m just gonna get into more fights with my sister. I feel like she really does think that I’m a fucking failure and all her friends do too. And I’m worried my dad is gonna fucking die.

I don’t know what to do about anything in my life.

[kareofbears]

number one fan

At the best of times, a large group of teenagers in one area is a mild inconvenience to traverse with. In between rows and rows of filled chairs in a packed gymnastics stadium, it’s a nightmare.

Especially when someone unexpected is sitting close by. 

—

read on ao3 or under the cut :) 

(lovingly beta read by @mad4turtles)

At the best of times, a large group of teenagers in one area is a mild inconvenience to traverse with. In between rows and rows of filled chairs in a packed gymnastics stadium, it’s a nightmare.

“Man, it’s so effin’ crowded here,” Ryuji grumbles, half-shoving people out of the way. They learned early on to make him spearhead the group in packed environments, given that he’s the only one with enough guts to openly ask crowds to move out of the way. He’s like a pissed-off shepherd towing his sheep.

“What do you expect?” Makoto sighs, one hand gripping Haru’s wrist and the other clutching Ann’s jacket, kindergarten style. “This is something like the semi-finals, right?”

Akira shrugs, his shoulder rubbing against Ryuji’s from the sheer proximity. “No clue.”

“Didn’t she give you the tickets?”

“Sure she did, but it’s not like it came with some kind of gymnastics handbook.”

“Does anyone even know what type of gymnastics she’s in?” Haru asks, grip tightening around Makoto’s hand when a group of enthusiasts threatens to break them apart.

Ann’s eyes light up. “Oh, the one with the string twirling, right? She posted it on her Insta the other day, she looked so good.”

“She did! I can only imagine how rigorous her regimen must be.”

“Do you think she’d give me her secret? I wonder if she even lets herself snack.”

"I think so? She posted some desserts on her story recently."

Ryuji scratches his head. "There's more than one type of gymnastics?"

Makoto lets her head drop forward. "We don't deserve these tickets."

Akira turns his head back to the rest of them. "We're getting close to our seats," he says with a raised voice to combat the noisy crowd ('raised' only in the sense that it's slightly louder than his usual soft tone. Akira is a man of many talents, but voice projection is not one of them).

Someone from a step above them knocks their elbow into Akira's head, enough to make him stumble back a few steps, surprised.

Ryuji sends a glare at the stranger, eyes dark. "Hey, watch it, you motherfu—"

"And here are our seats!" Makoto claps her hands. "Let's sit before we do something illegal!"

Akira cards through Ryuji's hair, a silent thank you, I love you, but please calm down.

Eventually, he relents. "Fine."

Ann collapses into one of the bright red, plastic seats. "Thank God, my feet were killing me."

Haru joins her, grimacing. "Why are these seats so sticky...?"

"Because whenever they do a real good flip, the fanatics piss themselves."

"Ryuji, what the hell?"

"Sorry."

"Okay everyone," Makoto peers down at her phone. "Competition starts in two minutes. Settle in, but don’t go to the bathroom."

"Don't go to the bathroom?" Akira raises an eyebrow. "Are you Ushimaru?"

"I'm just saying that, given our position, we're basically stuck to our seats until everyone else leaves."

"For real?" Ryuji groans. "I really wanted one of those hot dogs they have, where they're yelling out 'hot dogs!' and shit."

"This isn't some American baseball game, dumbass," Ann snorts.

"I know that!"

Haru points past Ryuji. "If you're really desperate to go, you might be able to ask that man to move his tripod aside to make room for you."

"You're totally right! What a good senpai," he casts a grin at Haru before calling out to the man a few seats down from them. He's dressed bulkily for such a packed stadium: a thick black hoodie with the hood up, and a thick pair of black shades. To top it all off, he has an annoyingly big tripod in front of him with an expensive-looking camera perched on top. "Yo! 'Scuse me!"

Ryuji blinks as the man almost seemed to shift away from him. "Uh, hello? I just got a quick question."

To everyone's surprise, the man seemed to turn even more, his torso twisted in the opposite direction.

Makoto squints. “Maybe he didn’t hear you?”

“Whatever, it’s about to start anyway,” Ryuji falls back into his chair. “I’ll just ask him again when I actually need to go. Oh, look it’s her!”

Sumire stands with her coach, dressed in a bright leotard and a determined expression on her face, nodding along intently.

Ann leans forward over the railing. “Go Yoshizawa! Woo! Come on guys, we’re here to cheer!”

“Well, she did give us the best seats… it only makes sense that we make the most of them.” Haru says, before cupping her hands over her mouth. “Let’s go, Yoshizawa!”

“Hell yeah, Yoshizawa!”

“You can do it!”

“Gymnastics.”

“Akira, you suck.”

Sumire looks up, eyes brightening as she waves back enthusiastically in their direction. To their surprise, she brings her hands together to make a heart.

“That’s sweet of her,” Haru comments. “I wonder who that was for.”

Ryuji rolls his eyes. “Probably Akira.”

“It’s for Akira.”

“Definitely.”

“I don’t think so,” Akira frowns. “She’s never done that before.”

“Man, don’t try to be all humble—everyone knows she had a thing for you.”

“In the first ten minutes, maybe. Now she’s just a little sister,” Akira waves at Sumire. “Go back to cheering.”

“Good idea,” Ryuji takes a deep breath. “Give me a Y!”

“Y!” Ann yells back.

“Give me an O!”

“O!”

Makoto rubs her temples. “We really don’t deserve these tickets.”

—

The competition goes off without a hitch, Sumire taking first place with ease. If the people around them were exasperated with their cheering before, it’s nothing compared to how they screamed their throats raw when she accepted her gold medal. The stranger in the black hoodie kept throwing them dirty looks, but they didn’t care.

“I’m so thirsty,” Ann rasps, once the award ceremony wraps up. “Anyone have water?”

“Nope,” Ryuji stands, stretching his arms above his head. “I need the bathroom pretty bad, though.”

To their misfortune, people are still slowly filing out of their seats, too slow for their liking. There’s a gap in the crowd, but the only way to get to it is through—

“The man is still there?” Haru asks.

“It seems so,” Makoto says. “He’s probably a huge fan of the whole gymnastics scene, given the way he’s so careful with his camera.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I gotta go,” Ryuji says, before turning to the man once more. “Sorry dude, gotta move past you for real this time.”

And just like before, the man steadfastly ignores him. Akira narrows his eyes.

“Excuse me,” he says, his voice dropping an octave lower. Everyone stiffens. The words he spoke did not belong to Kurusu Akira and is now owned by someone donned in a long, black tail-coat, armed with a knife as sharp as a tack. “Please move. My partner here is trying to walk past you.”

And still, the man doesn’t shift.

Ryuji places a hand on Akira’s forearm. “Chill,” he says, running his hand up and down in what he hopes is a soothing manner. Ryuji might be the one on a hair-trigger temper, but no one has anything on Akira if someone so much as looks at his friends the wrong way.”It’s cool, ‘Kira. If the dude’s busy, then he’s busy. We’ll just wait for the other side to file out, yeah?”

Akira smiles, just a little. “I love you.”

“Love you too, dude.”

“—but you’re too nice.” He rips his arm from Ryuj’s lax grip and saunters over to the man.

“Respect,” Ann mutters, impressed.

“Stupid,” Makoto rectifies, face palming

“Hi there,” Akira greets, faux cheerful in a voice they recognize as his customer service voice. “Still ignoring us? That’s cool,” he shrugs a shoulder. “We’re used to it. Not a problem—we know how to be heard.”

In one, swift movement, Akira stands in front of the tripod.

Ryuji covers his eyes, peeking through his fingers. “I’m dating an actual bastard.”

The man visibly bristles and looks up to send Akira a black look from under his hood.

“Can you—” he hisses, before cutting himself off. “I mean,” clearing his throat, he drops his voice to a low grunt, not too different from a child impersonating an old man. “Move, dammit!”

Haru frowns. “That voice…”

The man shoots her a dirty look, before quickly turning his sight downward, but it was too late: they’ve all already caught a glimpse of his panicked brown eyes.

“Alright, I’ll move,” he says in the same gruff voice. “Just leave me alone—”

Akira bends down slightly, squinting at the man who’s avidly attempting to pull down his hood even more.

Squirming in his seat, “Young man, you are being extremely rude and hostile and I don’t appreciate—”

Akira reaches forward to grab his hood and forces it back, allowing Akechi Goro’s hair to flow down on his shoulders.

They all stilled, frozen in shock. Eyes widened, mouths openly gaping. Only Akira’s expression remained unchanged; cool and filled with disdain.

Ryuji is the first to speak. “I really hope I didn’t just piss myself.”

“What—” Ann splutters. “What are you—why the hell—I just—”

Makoto’s hand are alternating between making a numbered list with her fingers and gesticulating wildly. “So you’re in a gymnastics competition, and you’re actively hiding from us, and you have a camera which is weird at best, why are you—”

“I truly want to give you the benefit of the doubt here, Akechi-kun,” Haru cuts in. “But I’m kind of struggling to find—”

“Bro, like, a camera? You weren’t even trying to hide how weird this—”

“I know a thing or two about creeps and—”

“Oh, would you all give it a rest, you damn dolts!” Akechi snaps. “Your insistent cheering from earlier is already giving me a migraine.”

Akira narrows his eyes. “You don’t get to talk to them like that.”

“I just don’t understand, Akechi,” Makoto’s brows furrows. “You could have avoided being caught if you had just moved out of the way before sounding the alarm bells through Akira’s head.”

Leaning back into his chair, Akechi shoots her an incredulous look. “I wasn’t going to do that.”

“Why not?” Ann asks. “Do you really just love pissing us off?”

“No, I didn’t even know you clowns were beside me until it was too late,” he shoots a glare somewhere down towards the mats. “I couldn’t have moved this camera because…”

Everyone leans forward, awaiting his response as Akechi trails off. He blinks slowly.

“Hello?” Ryuji asks, incredulous. “What the hell was that? Why’d you stop talking?”

“You know what?” He stands abruptly, words flying out of his mouth. “I don’t need to answer any of your questions like some kind of interrogation,” shoving his arms through his jacket. “I know my rights,” he plucks the camera off of the tripod and closes its legs with a snap. “I’m a detective.”

With a dignified tilt of his head, he turns to leave only for Akira to cut him off by placing a foot on the stadium chair. “Nice try.”

“Move,” Akechi spits through gritted teeth.

“Nope.”

“Not before you tell us why you were recording Yoshizawa-chan,” Haru smiles.

Ann points at Akechi like she’s about to challenge him to a duel. “We care about her too much to let this go, so fess up!”

Rubbing his temples, “You don’t even know what you’re saying.”

“Then explain yourself!” Makoto says.

“No.”

“Hold on, guys.”

Everyone turns to Ryuji, who’s squinting at Akechi. “We got these dope tickets from Yoshizawa, right?”

“Yeah?”

“So how did this geezer get his hands on his?”

Akira’s eyes twinkle. “Now that’s a fantastic question.”

“I’m sure you all had an absolute grandiose time finding a brand new way to annoy me,” Akechi drawls. “But you aren’t going to get a single word out of—”

“Goro!”

They all turn to the sound of a familiar voice, only to blink when Yoshizawa Sumire comes running towards them, dressed out of her leotard and into her black tracksuit.

Akechi’s eyes widen, and he takes a step back. “No, go away Sumire. I’ll—I’ll meet you downstairs—”

“Yeah, right! That’s what we’ve been doing, but then you didn’t show up. You got me worried! Thought the crowd ate you up.” Sumire rolls her eyes, before smiling. “Hello, senpais!” Bowing deeply, “Thank you for coming. It means a lot to us.”

Slowly, they all turn to stare at Akechi, who’s expression is contorting in a strange way—his lips are pursed, and his arms are crossed in a defensive manner.

“Um…” Ann blunders. “Yup.”

“It was our pleasure,” Akira covers for her, shoving his hand in his pocket. “Congrats on the win.”

Sumire lights up. “Thank you! Speaking of—” she turns to Akechi, hands on her hips. “Tell me you didn’t forget to record me this time. And please tell me I’m in frame. Last time was a mess.”

Akechi gives her a dirty look but nods all the same. “Of course I did, who do you think I am?”

“Hurray!” she claps her hands together. “Funny story, actually. At my last competition, I asked Goro to film me—”

“Sumire,” he hisses at her, but she ignores him.

“But people kept moving the camera and messing it all up! It was a miracle that I had one more competition before the finals came up—I seriously need that footage for practice.”

She laughs, light and trill; a perfect juxtaposition to Akechi’s dark, defeated expression.

“Okay,” Ryuji shakes his head. “What the fuck is going on?”

“What Ryuji is actually means to ask,” Makoto averts. “Are you two…”

“Friends?” Akira finishes. His eyes flicker between the two of them like he’s working out an incredibly difficult equation. “Are you two friends?”

“I don’t have friends,” Akechi insists, the same time Sumire beams, “We’re best friends!”

A beat passes.

“Would you all stop staring at me?” Akechi snaps, and they all immediately look away, but it was too late. They’ve finally nailed his expression, one so strange to see on him that it took much longer than it needed to:

Akechi Goro is embarassed.

“Wow,” Haru whispers.

Sumire peers down at her watch and yelps. “Shoot, it’s that late? Sorry, everyone, we have to leave. Goro treats me whenever I get that first place.”

“Does he now?” Akira remarks innocently. Akechi’s glare can wither flowers.

He drops his foot, allowing Akechi to stride past him a little too quick to be nonchalant.

“Oh, don’t forget this.” Akira swoops down to pick up the forgotten, handing it to Akechi. When their hands touch, he whispers, “Besties, huh?”

“I’ll fucking end you.”

“Third time’s the charm.”

Yanking his hand away, Akechi stalks off. Sumire sighs dramatically.

“Such a drama queen! But I should leave, too.” She bows once more. “Thank you again.”

“No…problem…” Makoto trails off when Sumire runs to Akechi’s side, casually linking arms with him.

Silence encompasses the group.

“That’s weird, right?” Ryuji finally asks. “Like, I’m not wrong for thinking that was really fucking weird, right?”

“Yeah, that was weird,” Makoto confirms.

“Really?” Akira muses. “I can kind of see it.”

Ann rubs her temples. “Whatever. That whole thing plus my dehydration just gave me the world’s biggest headache.”

“Ryuji, don’t you need to go to the bathroom?” Haru reminds him kindly.

“Huh? Oh. I don’t know, I think I’ve might have just moved past it.”

“Gross.”

“Shut up, Takamaki. Let’s leave, I hate it here.”

“Because you peed yourself?”

“I did not.”

—

“I hate you.”

Sumire doesn’t look up from her slice of carrot cake. “No, you don’t.”

Their usual cafe was near empty in thanks to the fact that it’s a Tuesday evening and barely anyone knows this place exists—only a barista is inside with them, trying his best to text on his phone in secrecy and failing miserably. She can feel his glare at her from across the table, though there’s no heat behind it. (There hasn’t been heat behind it for a long time.)

“No,” Akechi agrees. “I don’t.”

She glances up at him. He hasn’t touched his tart yet. “But you’re upset with me.”

His brows scrunch slightly as he rolls his answer around his head. This was to be expected.

“No,” he decides. “I’m not upset, either. But I honestly cannot for the life of me figure out why you would do that. I hate them, Sumire, and you know that.” Picking up his fork, he prods at his fruit tart absentmindedly. “You’re a good person, even if you aren’t nice—”

“Only to you I’m not.”

“—so you won’t do anything that would disconcert me in a legitimate way on purpose.”

Her shoulders tense. “Did it disconcert you?”

“It unsettled me, sure. But only because I knew where their tickets came from, and it certainly didn’t come from Takamaki’s profound interest in gymnastics.”

“Unsettled you?”

Akechi gives her an exasperated look. “You’re going to make me say it?”

“How about a deal?” she offers, smiling ever so lightly. “You say it out loud and I’ll tell you why I did it.”

Sighing, he heavily leans back into his chair. “I despise the idea of them seeing me… like that.”

“Like a human being?”

“Like I’m weak,” he corrects.

“Seeing you in a normal setting,” she settles. “With a friend?”

“You’re pushing it.”

Her smile widens. An odd setting is more accurate. It’s only in a gymnastics setting that she can really get a reaction out of him—rarely does he act the way he did. It’s his own brand of sweet that’s really grown on her.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” she starts, setting down her fork. “But I don’t agree with what you said.”

“Shocker. Which part?”

“About you hating them.”

When she doesn’t continue, he kicks her shin lightly. “Don’t be cryptid.” Which is his way of saying talk to me.

Sumire kicks him back. “I’m not! I’m just thinking.”

She chooses her words with care. “You said something, a while ago,” she says slowly. “Like way, way back. It was kind of offhand, and you probably said it as a way to prove how much you hated them or something. But you mentioned that Akira—and the rest of his lovely friends—were the first people to really treat you like…a person.”

Akechi blinks, and she feels her eyes soften. Of course he thought (or hoped) that she’d forgotten a detail like that.

“And yes, lots of stuff happened in between,” she continues. “Lots and lots of stuff. Stuff I’ll probably never know about. But…I owe them, I think.” Sumire shrugs. “They took care of you before I could have. So I was worried that it bugged you when you lost touch with them.”

Akechi was quiet for a moment before he knits his brows together. “And that led you to try and cupid me with them during your semi-final?”

“When you say it like that—”

“‘Losing touch’ is very different from what actually happened,” he cuts off, leaning forward. “And just because they didn’t treat me like a famous asshole from television absolutely did not create some kind of fostered kinship.”

Akechi’s eyes never soften, never lose focus, but occasionally they can lose some of their steel. Warmth engulfs her as she watches it happen now. “For the record, no. It doesn’t bother me,” he hesitates. “Not…not anymore.”

Just as quick as it arrived, the moment passes. Straightening up, “And you? Does it bug you?”

She blinks. “What does?”

“That I make for a lackluster cheerleader.”

Sumire laughs, too loud for the near-empty cafe. Impossible. He may be a mess with words, would rather pull out his own teeth than confess vulnerability, but he’s shown up to every single one of her competition and sat through the entire thing. From warm-ups to the awards ceremony, it’s undoubtedly a grueling time to spend his day, and as much as he loves to complain about it, whenever she looks up from the mat, he’s always there in the exact same spot without fail.

She snags a strawberry off of his tart, making him click his tongue harmlessly at her.

“You’re more than enough.”

[karasumajo]

I read through the old messages with my last favorite person.

I never realized how easily I would bend to his word and needs 😅 or just how much affection and care I'd give to him. At the time I guess I wouldn't have, I use to react purely on emotions and feelings without a thought.

I guess if makes sense that my ex didn't like him, but I would still talk to him and make time and do my best to always be there for him. Now, looking back,I guess I could see why my ex boyfriend felt the threat from him. But it was purely just friendship.

I guess I liked having someone to care about and who depended on my being there for them.

There was a conversation I saw between him and I

Him: "Are you awake?"

Me: "of course, what's up?"

Him: "I just really need someone. I'm feeling anxious, sad, I can't sleep."

Me: " :( I'm always here ____♡ it's okay. Do you want to talk on the phone? Want to come over? Want foods?"

Him: "idk, I guess not being alone would be nice, ill head over."

Me: "okay, I'll make something to eat! We can sit outside and eat! See you soon ♡"

It was like 2am. I remember that day was a terrible day at work but I wanted to be there for him lol. But it was always that way when he didn't want to be alone, and I always made myself available to him.

We even had a conversation once where he proposed that if when we are older and single, perhaps we can just have some kind of FWB relationship 😅 and I just...agreed. like I didn't even factor in how that might effect me.

Anyway, what hurt me to read was when I realized I was begging him to talk to me. I mean I don't blame him, his relationship would obviously be more important than me and also I guess having me as a friend was a liability. But I did my best to keep boundaries for him and his gf. I just wanted him to talk to me at least.

But then, one day, he said something....so ...stupid lol

We had gone to the mall together as we usually did, and his gf called, asked what he was up To.

He told her.. "I'm at the mall with my ex."

.......

Not (my name here). Not "my best friend". Not even just "my friend". MY EX. WHO TF SAYS THAT ???

So I guess she obviously was unhappy and he goes to take the call privately. I started feeling anxious and like I'm doing something wrong... 😅 when he came back I asked if that's all he sees me as? His ex? And he said Well you are, you're my ex girlfriend after all, im not going to lie to her.

I said but ____ ...I'm you're friend... 😅. And he said Yeah, but we dated. You're my ex.

So here we are at the mall, I just bought him all these gifts because yknow I'm a dumb bitch, and he's just there calling me his ex and nonchalantly... 😅

That's where things went downhill.

His girlfriend hated me. My existence. I guess rightfully so...but she never would tell him to get shit together, she would come after me about it with messages and phone calls...it was stressful lol.

Then when I thought things were fine, everything finally was hashed out, I still have my fp, his gf is actually cool, she's my new friend. Everything is fine

He blocked me.

He didn't just block me, but basically erased my existence from his life.

Couldn't text or call him. Couldn't DM him. Couldn't send him a fb message. Literally nothing.

His brother told me he got rid of all the paintings I made for him. All the gifts.

He deleted me.

And I just... didn't exist anymore.

I panicked. I got scared and I got anxious and I tried what I could to just get a word out of him, something. Just tell me WHY?????? lol..like why just shut me out, in like the most random and hurtful way possible? After everything, don't I at least deserve a heads up? An explanation? Idk, something? Fucking smoke signals? A letter? An email?????

That was it. He just deleted me. My last message to him I left on IG was

"____ I'm not even angry at this point. Just please tell me what I did wrong now? Please just tell me what happened? I'm sorry if I hurt you or if I hurt ______ in anyway...Just don't shut me out like this please. Whatever your reasons are at this point okay fine but just please tell me why and what I did. I just need to at least know.."

I got no reply back and that was the last message.

For the next following days, weeks, months. I guess I went through withdrawal of not talking to him everyday 😅 not having that friendship. I was depressed, crying all the time, anxiety would rise and fall throughout the day dramatically. I'd anxiously look at my phone hoping he'd replied. But I never got anything.

I missed him.

After some time, another person we knew told me that he was talking about me at his job. At first I thought "oh? Maybe he's thinking of talking to me again?"

But no.

He talked about what a shit friend I was. How I never showed care. How I apparently was always such a bitch and didn't know how to just chill out. How I was always so intense and my favorite "she's a mess".

He read my message, and told everyone he didn't bother replying because "how can she not see how she's a lot".

😅

So naturally, I emailed him 😂.

I told him how much I hated him, how he's a piece of shit, how dare he call me a bad friend. I told him what a little bitch he is and how I wanted to beat his face in and to stay the fuck away from me forever.

Yknow, all that good stuff...

I mean clearly, yeah, I'm a mess. But I wasn't a bad friend. That much I knew, but it didn't matter. The thoughts ate me up. The worry and overthinking had a field day in my head. The constant thought of "you see how you're so much you just fuck shit up? Why can't you just be normal?"

He made me question my own sanity, my love, the way I am. Am I really innocent? What if he's right? What I even fooled myself into thinking I'm good but really, what if I'm just so evil that I'm good at manipulating others into believing I'm good?

I still wonder that tho, I live in constant doubt of myself and my own intentions, I wonder if I'll ever be able to just be me and not feel like I constantly need to validate and confirm my own emotions and feelings accordingly. It's tiring and now I don't even know how to just react without thinking about my reactions first.

Today he tried pretending non of that happened. Like he never had anything to do with the way I am now. He smiled, he joked, he talked to me, he tried hugging me. He took me to Chipotle to get lunch. Then he asked me about how I've been and how I've been dealing with my anxiety. Because he worried.....

LOL EX-FUCKING-SCUSE ME SIR???????

Needless to say I went off and told him how we are just coworkers and he lost the right to ask that question forever ago.

Still, the fucked up part is, I still miss him. 🙄 ew.

I don't even know why I'm writing all this. Maybe Because writing it makes it so that it's out of my head and here. Maybe a small part of me felt happy today because small moments felt like the old days. With his dumb jokes and always finding ways to make me laugh and smile.

Mostly I guess to remind myself why I can't let myself be swayed back in a friendship with someone like him. Because I know that if I did, it would just end the same and I would have played myself again.

Womp, well that was a lot 😅 im gonna go back to sleep now, this kinda helped I guess.

Sorry for the long rant and shit 😅 goodnight nobody and everybody!

[vampyr-bite]

hI! can you take a picture of that Sounds article and post it? i kinda want to read it lol

Hey! The archive I’m using at the moment is text only (thanks corona) but I’ve pasted the article below. Hope that’s good and u enjoy and u have a lovely day!

Pete Makowski, ‘Def Leppard: The Leppard Doesn't Sleep Tonight’, Sounds, 6 February 1982

ROUGH NOTES/ROUGH NOTES (Prelude)

THE SOUND of Ross Halfin's bouts of self induced vomiting...Steve Clarke smashing his guitar in a Blackmoresque frenzy...The black dude with a gold tooth who offers out cocaine in a packed McDonalds at eight o'clock in the morning...Sleepless nights, trying to get some shuteye on the tour bus which due to the lack of any form of suspension feels like a plane in the state of permanent turbulence...Waking up fully clothed feeling like an over abused cocktail shaker...Nights spent paralytic in bowling alleys and truck stops willing the hours away – If the rednecks with arms the size of those slabs of meat that adorn butcher shop windows don't kill you, the infra red fried chilli will...This is life on the road!

LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT TEXAS RADIO AND THE BIG BEAT!

The Lone Star State is a place one could easily write volumes about and still nobody would believe half the stories you told them. It's a proverbial utopia and lunatic asylum rolled into one. Plenty of sunshine and healthy-looking women; in fact every form of debauchery is available at your beck and call.

This was the perfect location for Def Leppard to close their tour which had proved to be a long and arduous trek. The merciless blows endured during the six months of gigging are cushioned by the fact that the Leppard entourage are basically a closely knit family-like affair. Tour manager Robert Alan (brother of drummer, Richard) also doubles as sound engineer, and token Irish lunatic lighting man 'Famous' is a typically stocky, cheerful chap who spends half his time dreaming about his homeland where he dreams his days away with fishing rod in one hand and a proverbial pint of the dark velvet brew in the other. The band and crew eat, sleep and defecate together giving the whole thing a warm congenial atmosphere.

As I've mentioned in a previous feature the group and entourage are all so young it makes one want to retch with envy. And they are all far from being as blasé (as one might expect) in fact surprisingly enough they still come over as avid fans, although their attitude to work is surprisingly professional and they put every iota of energy they've got into their stage performances, giving headlining act Blackfoot a good run for their money.

After all these months of hard graft Leppard are beginning to reap their just rewards, meeting with ecstatic audiences at almost every show. In fact their performances are met with nothing less than fanmania from a crowd that is not short of wholesome looking nubiles who squeal in frenzied approval at everyone of Leppard's moves.

While the average Blackfoot fan can be seen lumbering around the auditorium wearing the almost uniform check shirt, hiking up his baggy denim pants, clutching some obscene piece of junk food in one hand and the obligatory doobie aka spliffette in the other, The Leppard-ites in contrast are a new breed of fresh faced kids out looking for a whole new brand of kicks.

Although Texas is supposed to be a stronghold for Blackfoot (who to be fair are a hardworking road band with no shortage of talent and energy and as people are very amiable, good time folk from Jacksonville who really enjoy their crazed life style – these dudes do walk it like they talk it) there's no doubt that this time round the lil' ol' band from Sheffield made a big impression on the locals and will be guaranteed a headlining spot the next time round.

Their best shows on the tour were undoubtedly at the tropical seaside resort town of Corpus Christi and in Houston – which is undoubtedly one of their biggest strongholds in Texas shitkickin' territory.

"Home Of The Encores" is the sign emblazoned outside the Ritz, which in reality from the inside comes over more like a pokey old cinema that should have been condemned many moons ago.

The backstage area resemble a derelict bombsite and the roadcrew were apprehensive about the voltage system, the main concern being whether the place had enough juice to feed the vast backline Leppard had put together for this tour.

At first a feeling of despondency hung thick, like an onimous cloud, in the air and people were beginning to draw straws to decide who was going to lynch the promoter. Feelings didn't improve after they saw the bathroom facilities, that resembled something that harked from the dark ages. But once they took to the stage Joe Elliot and crew demonstrated where their real commitment lay and amidst the sweat arid sawdust blasted their way through a set that had the audience frothing at the gills.

Powered along by Rick Allen's tireless drum work that gelled with Rick Savage's fluid and thunderous basslines, the frontline barrage guitar attack of Pete Willis and Steve Clarke projected the excitement and innovative soloing that was ever present with Lizzy in their Live And Dangerous days.

Elliot becomes a more proficient frontman as the days go by. With one foot on the monitor he beckons the punters on, working them into a state of euphoric frenzy while belting out the lyrics to such epics as 'Let It Roll' and 'Lady Strange' with effortless ease.

He had the people totally on his side during 'High And Dry' and rafters shook as the auditorium burst into a chorus of "Saturday night, high and dry". It was this night that convinced me without a shadow of a doubt that Leppard are going to be a giant force to be reckoned with in the next couple of years.

NEXT DAY

AS THE bus jerked its way into Houston the local radio station seemed to continually plug the evening's show touting Leppard as one of the Eighties' brightest hopes. Meanwhile, back in the sleeping area Joe Elliot sat leaning against his bunk perusing his evergrowing collection of cut out and bootleg records, proudly announcing that he almost owned the entire Matt The Hoople catalogue. The rest of the group attempted to catch up with the strain of non-stop touring by getting as much sleep as they could in between the bumps on the road that shook the road-battered vehicle with the effect of a series of land mines.

Like the rest of Texas, Houston is overwhelming and unlimited in size and possibilities. The general atmosphere seems to be warm and welcoming throughout the State although this place as it turned out seems to be that much crazier.

The first chore of the day was to attend an instore signing, a common on the road practice which involved the group going to a local record store where they meet their fans, converse and sign autographs. The ritual was performed at the gargantuan Texas Record And Tapes Store, which can only be described as a proverbial Santa Claus grotto for vinyl freaks, featuring a dazzling array of parapheranalia and owned by the very amiable and over generous Geoff Hamer, otherwise known as 'General Doo Dah' – who is without a doubt a true gonzo at heart.

As it happened the band drew a record amount of people, in fact there were more fans here than at the previous day's concert (which by the way was sold out) and that evening the group performed like troupers proving they had Houston like the rest of the US, so it seems, in the palm of their sweaty paws.

The rest of the night was spent celebrating with an end of the tour party that included an Awards Ceremony hosted by yours truly The Grand Toastmaster who presented prizes to members of this deranged crew for various offences some too obscene and illegal to mention in this respectable organ. This was followed by a totally incoherent and over the top night of debauchery, courtesy of 'General Doo Dah' which took myself, Rick Savage and Steve Clarke into the land of Never Never, making any episode of Fear And Loathing look like the teddy bears picnic. A champion finale to a fine tour.

THE INTERVIEW/A MORE SERIOUS FINALE

"We don't worry about England anymore, we're just trying to put across the point that everybody's missed out and that is that we've been shit on and people have said things about us that are a lot of bullshit." – Joe Elliot

"I always look forward to playing England 'cause that's where we're from like, but I don't think that it will do us any good at the moment because the kids, the kids meaning people like me, I'm not sure whether they want to listen to us at the moment...which is a bit of a shame because they're missing out on a good thing." – Rick Savage

WHILE LEPPARD continue to 'wow out' crowds in the US, they still seem to be at the butt of abuse as far as certain British media and fans are concerned. While groups like Saxon and Iron Maiden seem to be able to travel the world and lead a grandiose lifestyle and still retain that dubious street credibility factor, anything that Leppard do is regarded as being pompous and the general consensus of opinion from the average anglophile headbanger seems to be that they are egotistical popstars who sold their souls to the American rock and roll machine.

Which couldn't be further from the truth. It's hardly surprising that Leppard feel jaded and bitter with their audiences back home. I personally believe that they are producing some of the finest high quality heavy rock sounds around today.

They write songs, not just riffs with words loosely attached to them, with a sophistication and flair that puts some of their elder statesmen to shame and they knock the average so called NWOBHM ('scuse me while I wash my mouth out) into a cocked hat and it's unfortunate that they have to travel across the water to get an audience that actually appreciates this fact.

When we conducted this interview, the band were beginning to recover from the lunacy of an American tour which began earlier last year with Ozzy Osbourne, and the strain of the roadlife was beginning to make itself apparent. This nomadic way of life can be as strenuous as it is exciting and it may sound crazy when you hear a band yearning for the simple things in life like a good old English breakfast and a copy of the Daily Mirror, but it all makes sense once you get caught up in the insanity they've endured since the release of High'n'Dry which is already winning them Stateside acclaim.

Leppard are undoubtedly on the threshold of breaking America: everywhere they play the audience reaction is frenzied almost to the point of being rabid, but as it became obviously apparent on this drunken night Def Leppard still miss their home and feel slightly more than sore about the lack of respect they get from the press and punters alike, and seem to be constantly trying to find a reason for this unexplainable feeling of malice.

"As far as England is concerned people have got something against Def Leppard for purely non musical reasons," explained Joe Elliot, amidst a background noise of chinking glasses and people yelling for more beverage, "40,000 people bought our first album, but only 20,000 people bought High'n'Dry, you're not telling me the other 20,000 didn't buy it because they didn't like the album. I believe they didn't buy it because they read the article in Sounds saying that Leppard had changed their spots. They followed fads."

"American people don't follow fads", announced guitarist Pete Willis, "They go for what they like while England seems to follow trends. Foreigner and Fleetwood Mac are good, they write good songs while bands like Motorhead are a load of shit...don't say that because I don't want Lemmy to beat me up."

While I don't agree with the last part of this statement, I do feel that the GB is basically puppeteered by fashions which ultimately dictate taste and the majority of which come over as nothing more than a grand parade of lifeless packaging, including the new league of HM groups who I personally feel have a very limited lifespan with their generally dated and usually moronic stance.

Elliott: "There's two things you can do when you're in a band. You can go out and do what you wanna do, that's not trying to be pretentious to anybody and that's just satisfying your artistic temperament or whatever you want to call it for the want of a better saying. Or you can do things like Saxon...I don't believe anybody but Biff Byford would want lyrics like that on an album! I mean you're not telling me that he's writing those words so that everybody from people out of a mental institution to people with 'A' levels can understand them?"

"I could write lyrics like 'Denim And Leather', that's the kind of stuff a drummer could write. I write lyrics that are on a street level and that everybody can understand but they're on a different line. I'm not afraid to hide the influences that I've got."

It's a well known fact that Leppard were the first band of its genre to actually stick its collective neck out, undertake major headlining tours, sign a major record deal and venture across the water. Other bands as they pointed out followed after learning from their mistakes and generally avoiding the pitfalls somebody had to make as a kick off. They're also a rarity when you consider they haven't had any line up changes since they established themselves.

At this moment in time the group are preparing material for an album which will again be produced by 'Mutt' Lange. I wondered if they were at all perturbed by the comparisons drawn between them and AC/DC.

"I don't even think AC/DC are that hot!", exclaimed Rick Savage.

Elliot: "The only comparison is that we've got the same producer and because of that you're likely to get the same sound. We didn't use him because he produced a big album and in turn we thought we'd get a big album, we just think he's the best producer around. Anyhow, no way could AC/DC write a song like 'Bringing On The Heartbreak' or 'Switch 625'."

Savage: "We'd have been a big band in England if Mutt had produced On Through The Night because it wouldn't have got the slagging it did. It was still a better album than people made out for all its supposed commercialism for the USA. We were on the crest of a wave when that album came out and the reviews that album got, particularly in Sounds, were so bad and so anti the attitude bands like Saxon and Motorhead and their fans have got, that we totally lost it.

"If England had accepted us like they should have accepted us, things might be a bit different. I think we're a lot better than bands that are accepted more freely than us."

Here, here! C'mon you pommy bastards here's your chance to rectify...And JOIN THE ROCK BRIGADE!!!

[wildshero]

ooc: welp i went ahead and spoiled AoC for myself, under the cut are spoilers you have been warned

im super disappointed in nintendo for making everyone live. the game would have been so powerful to have the true ending that leads straight into botw. but they just love their split timelines don’t they. not every game has to end happily at risk of spoiling spider man: miles morales that game has a very bitter sweet ending with death involved, and no one is complaining. i just don’t get why they had to ahead and ruin a timeline they already firmly set up. like the game was described as being a view into what happened before the 100 years, but its not that if you go and change the whole damn story.

like ngl if botw 2 takes place after aoc i’ll be kind of disappointed, like aoc erases everything from botw

like all the heartache and shit is erased in aoc, and it takes away everything that link and zelda fought for in botw in order for it to not happen, which is fine, but at the same time like calling forth the “new” champions from the future to fight alongside you isn’t an answer to the problem. it just creates a huge paradox

so from here on out are basically my thoughts to watching the cut scenes

its just bad writing, not to mention straight up stealing the fact that zelda and impa can understand the egg from droids and their “masters” from star wars, the egg is her music box... and plays her lullaby. like stop forcing the egg on us please

why can no one see hestu til zelda can? like scuse me, no link can see the giant brocoli just fine despite this cut scene. also hestu not remembering link in botw if this scene is real? like COME ON

mipha is shit at hiding her crush

the not ganon character is a seer who wants to control their own calamity possessed egg, and sooga is like its not for mortals to control

it is weird seeing link without the slate on his armor, there’s a place for it, but its like not there.

i know its hyrule warriors and you gotta have more than two people going but like impa being there at the spring of courage... like love her all you want but nah fam this aint it also it steals story elements away from link, i know the boy is selectively mute BUT JESUS give him something please

also its like link being the hero means nothing in terms of the slate and the towers, and then the shrines. its like all of it is meaningless in this game, which like revali says what’s the point of link then

calamity comes early? what the hell? this game. im so upset, but also like rhoam getting unnecessarily angry at link for doing what he’s supposed to like jesus fucking christ then he lowkey dies like okay

purah being there when zelda breaks down and its not just link... like the whole story of botw is like fucked, and zelda has time travel tears now

like all the things that happened in botw that built the characters is erased, like everything is a group effort which like is disappointing. i love how the new champions come BUT at the same time it defeats the point of the champions ballad, and the solo battles that link has to face.

alot of the story telling elements are repeated like more obviously than in botw which is saying something

all that the new champions are seeing is for nothing... like they will go back with these memories and it will suck cause they know the current state will have been changed and so what they see will be burdens they carried alone and for nothing for their future people

link’s sacrifice is for nothing, so thanks for diminishing that for me AOC. like him fending off the four blights unlocks zelda’s power but like seriously what is the point of him in this game, he is literally useless, like he straight up disappears. and her power isn’t unlocked via her love, but seeing link fight, and then thinking of the loss of her father

the yiga joined the good side? the fuck aoc

oh link is magically back now. why is he even in this game?

her father isn’t dead but was transported to the temple of time cause of a relic zelda and her mom found. THE PLOT ARMOR, its a shield its literal plot armor oh my god. which lead to her power awakening having no real meaning

literally everything from botw is unwritten, all the strife and everything that was fought for in botw is literally gone

i liked that teba was not a fan of revali’s attitude but like he then becomes a simp for him like dude you can still be in awe and think he’s a jerk to link and in general

ah a blood moon at the end... *eyeroll* okay

harbinger ganon... *squints*

the seer becomes sucked into ganon and the egg attacks zelda and link deflects its blast killing it... WHAT IS THIS WRITING

cool zelda is crying more over this damn egg than her people in BOTW, so zelda is like 5 when her mom dies in the castle (?) its not clear, and her dad is like training only now

also the eggs name is terrako

who needs the master sword the darkness when you’ve got egg boy and zelda’s sealing power, no wonder its shit 100 years later. fi realized she wasn’t fucking needed

slice him through like butter link that’ll do it *eye roll* what happened to that courage power from the fucking master sword scene? what sealing are you doing with that sword? you sliced through him. LIKE?

things that i kinda like, and appreciate character wise

link gets flustered easily. revali revels in the fact that link will be the fallen knight and his reputation what little he has will be ruined, it is also well known that link is in fact a nobody meaning his family is not noble born, but that does not mean his family, read his father, on this blog is a nobody.

urbosa defending link from revali’s bullshit

link fighting malice champions from the totally “not ganon” hooded figure

link is officially considered a champion, and talks with urbosa

impa being pissy with the egg, i feel it. i am tired of the fucking egg pushing himself in too

sooga is the only character i want to see in botw2

link can teleport more than one person is confirmed, though three max is like it in a weakened state.

as much as i hate how many paradoxes this creates, yunobo and sidon’s enterances are very good, and teba’s and riju’s are similar. urbosa recognizing she’s in trouble is very in character for her imo.

i liked that all in hyrule worked together but like at what cost

i prefer this design of calamity ganon

the master sword lets FUCKING DISCUSS

ahahaha no. link pulls the sword when he’s a kid. I WANT TO HAVE A DISCUSSION NINTENDO GIVE ME YOUR NUMBER

like the scene is cool and all but we’re gonna be rewriting that bullshit. the only thing im taking from it is apparently link and the sword together have some courage power a-la zelda’s healing power... NOT THAT IT MATTERS CAUSE HE DOESN’T GET TO FUCKING USE IT

HOWEVER he does not pull it for the first time right then and there, sorry nope, not happening

The story is very much zelda’s which it should be, but like every moment that could have been link’s was taken by another character because of how hyrule warrior’s opperates. like if you want to play as zelda this is your game

im just disappointed, it erases everything from botw quite literally. it gives the new champions memories that they bare alone because zelda and link wont be there in 100 years to help them with it...

link was useless in the game. like you could literally write him out and have the same game, having the master sword literally does fucking nothing because of how OP zelda is. like its called legend of zelda and rightfully so but Link becomes a literal footnote. purah and others takes his place in all the important scenes that were his before.

and like i said if BOTW2 takes place after this its gonna be disappointing and not as dark as nintendo is intending IMO, they should have let this game end the way it does in the lead up to BOTW, it would have been so much more rewarding in my opinion yes you “technically lose” but you would still get some awesome final moments with zelda, and it would hype you up for BOTW.

there were parts i liked obviously, but there were major issues, and this is JUST STORY BASED, im not even talking game play.

[witchymarvelspacecase]

Voiceless Pt. 12

Summary: (Reader Insert) Reader is a mutant/inhuman with a powerful voice (works a little like a banshee/a little like a siren). She’s had it a little tough since discovering her powers. She is found and taken in by Tony Stark and the remaining Avengers after the events of Civil War

Word Count: 2177

Warnings: Cursing, some fluff and general emotions

A/N: This is the penultimate chapter ya’ll. The next one is the last...

You woke to a somewhat muffled shout from down the hall. Somewhat. Not enough that you couldn’t tell whose voice it was; Tony. “Fuck.”

Shifting your arms to push yourself up, drew a groan and wince from you, but you didn’t get any further. Bucky, who was lying beside you, fully awake, had a hand on your shoulder before you could move again.

“Easy, Doll,” he said. His voice was quiet, but not sleep-roughened. When you looked over, you could see he was fully dressed as well. But he’d stayed with you. He smiled when he caught your eye, but the smile looked tight.

“How long have they been like this?” you asked, laying back down slowly.

Bucky shrugged. “An hour or so. Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t wake up earlier.”

Again, Bucky looked uncomfortable, his eyes shifting to your closed bedroom door. He probably wasn’t sure what to do.

“Had to stay and make sure I didn’t make any escape attempts, huh?” you asked with a smile. “Tony’ll probably thank you for that. He can’t ever get me to follow directions.”

Bucky smiled again, a bit less stiff, and said, “I knew you’d be up and tryin’ to walk if I so much as peeked out the door.”

You snorted inelegantly. “Probably true. And I’d end up on my ass too. So, thanks for saving me from myself. Now,” you said, pushing yourself to the edge of your bed with what felt like incredible effort, “let’s go save the rest of our idiots from themselves, shall we?”

Bucky was pretty clearly uncomfortable helping you get dressed, but he was also incredibly sweet. It would have been easier had he not been treating you as if you’d shatter if he touched you wrong. It was awkward and uncomfortable, but most of your discomfort came from not being able to laugh like you wanted to. When you were finally dressed, Bucky loaded you back into your wheelchair, though you protested. He insisted it was for the best, but you really wanted to move around on your own. You mentally shrugged, you could handle needing help getting dressed and moving if it came with Bucky.

By the time the two of you made it to the end of the hallway, the volume had raised so much you could scarcely hear yourself think. A glance over your shoulder showed Bucky grimacing, and his hands tightening on the handles of your chair. 

A hum built in the back of your throat, so quiet Bucky probably couldn’t hear, until slowly, lyrics passed from your lips. You weren’t loud, you couldn’t take a deep enough breath to project your voice, but even the quiet song held power. 

Bucky didn’t stop you, instead he pushed your chair into the room. Staying with you. The argument lost steam, as one person at a time calmed enough to look around and see you and Bucky.

As the last word left your lips, each Avenger was looking at you. Varying degrees of shame on their faces.

“Yeah? You ought to be embarrassed. How loud didja have to be?” you grumbled. Bucky stifled a laugh as he moved you fully into the room, engaged the brakes on your chair and moved to stand next to you. “Now, since I am awake, and have your attention, how about we talk like grown ups?” you asked. Your tone of voice was that of an annoyed grade school teacher. 

Several sets of shoulders slumped, like the air had been let out of some chests around the room. Then the Avengers situated themselves in chairs and sofas around your chair, carefully not looking at each other. 

“You all look as though I’m going to yell at you,” you snorted, groaning immediately after as your ribs reminded you that they were definitely still broken.

Tony and Bucky, both of whom had seated themselves as close to you as possible, moved as though they wanted to help you in some way, but you waved them off.

“What started the shouting?” you asked, looking at Natasha.

Natasha looked a little startled that you’d asked her. Startled for her anyway; she blinked before answering your question. She quickly summed up what had probably been an hours long descent from friendly conversation into finger pointing and shouts in as few words as possible. 

“So basically, we’re still butt-hurt about the accords fiasco, and secret keeping?” you clarified. Natasha nodded, smirking. “Okay, well, let’s get this shit straightened out then.”

You took a breath before starting. There were a lot of egos, emotions, and raw nerves involved, but you hoped if you were able to start enough of a trail, the others could continue on their own.

“Steve, why do you think Tony signed the accords?” you asked.

Truth was, Steve wasn’t sure. Tony had explained in the beginning, but Tony’s explanation hadn’t been the whole truth.

Keeping eye contact with Steve, you moved forward. “If, say, the Accords had gone into effect as intended, and a decision had been made for the Avengers to do something, and Tony and the team didn’t agree with it, do you think Tony would have followed those orders? To the letter?”

Steve paused a moment, but answered. “No. He would have worked around the situation somehow.”

Tony,” you asked not letting anyone cut in, “if the same situation had applied and it was Steve who didn’t agree, what do you think he would have felt like he had to do?”

Tony didn’t respond, but seemed to be puzzling something out, so you continued.

“Tony would have followed the Accords, so long as they didn’t go against what he thought was right. If there were to be a situation he thought was fucked up, he would have worked around them, or ‘forgotten’ or something, so he had no problem signing. Steve would have treated signing the accords as an ironclad agreement. Which would mean, if there were to be a discrepancy, he would be hindering his ability to do what he thinks is right. It wouldn’t be Steve’s first, or even second thought to break an agreement he’d signed.” You looked at both men pointedly. “You all were too busy getting angry and offended to wonder why the others may be doing what they were.” 

…

Bucky’s POV

She was slumping in her chair now. It’d been hours since she’d silenced the shouting match, and started her impromptu therapy session. She hadn’t done most of the talking, but she had stepped in several times when the temperature of the room started to rise. Soft words were all she needed most of the time, but she’d used her powers twice more and yelled once. Bucky had caught the silent winces when she adjusted herself; she’d pushed herself as far as was possible for the day.

Bucky glanced around the room, searching for the backup he suspected he’d need in order to get Y/N to admit she needed to rest. His eyes met Tony’s. Y/N had said she thought Tony may have been making an effort to understand Bucky’s situation. Although Bucky hoped that could be true, he wasn’t willing to be optimistic about his chances yet. However, regardless of their situation, Bucky had no doubt Tony would back him up. Y/N was common ground. Tony clearly cared about her. Before, Bucky had thought it was a romantic relationship, but the more he talked to Y/N, and now seeing the two of them interact, Bucky understood. Tony had adopted her. She’d become the younger sibling he’d  never had, and he loved her like a proud older brother. A feeling Bucky could almost remember having himself. 

A soft, warm sense of homecoming, a ghost of a hug and a quick press of lips against his cheek. There was a lingering scent of floral perfume accompanying the feeling. A younger sister. A mother. A family. “I had a family and I loved them.”

The soft look of pride, mixed with concern that shone from Tony Stark’s eyes was a look Bucky recognized, and … empathized with.

The two men did not communicate seamlessly, but Bucky did manage to convey his request for assistance, which Tony acknowledged.

...

Reader POV

“Y/N,” Tony said, “how long have you been up today?”

“Hmm?” you blinked several times upon hearing your name. You hadn’t dozed off completely, but you had begun to drift. Shaking your head in an attempt to clear your mind only served to remind you that you’d had a concussion, thus moving your head wasn’t an awesome idea. “Um, I’m not sure. Why?”

“Cause you look like you’re gonna slip outta that chair and onto the floor any minute.” Tony chuckled lightly as he stood and shifted over to kneel in front of you. “You’re in danger of making me look well rested. You’re heading back to bed.”

“Scuse me?” you asked. Normally, there would have been quite a bit more bite to your tone, but you just couldn’t manage it. You did manage to give Tony a sleepy glare though. 

“You heard me, kid. Bedtime for you.”

It was funny, you couldn’t remember agreeing to go back to your room, but all of a sudden, it seemed like everyone was pushing you to go. Sure, you were tired, but every time you looked to where Bucky and Tony were standing, you felt this urge to stay. No, they didn’t need you to be there. They didn’t need you to moderate their conversation, if they even managed to have a conversation, but god you wanted to. You wanted to stay. You cared about both of them, didn’t want either of them hurt.

It wasn’t news to you that you cared about Bucky. You’d come to accept that you had feelings for him, may have indeed developed them from the first day you met him, but it wasn’t anything you were planning to pursue. At least you weren’t until Bucky stayed with you last night. Now, you knew how it felt to be held by him, and you were fairly certain you couldn’t live without feeling that again.

Tony had taken you in when you’d had next to nothing. He’d given without asking for practically anything in return. He’d given you a home, a cause, and a space to learn how to control your powers. He’d given you a family. A family that you hoped was about to come back together again, but a family nonetheless.

As Nat started to push your chair from the room, you saw Tony close the gap between him and Bucky. Steve was quick to notice as well, and he headed over. Well, Steve needed to give Bucky a chance to stand on his own, and give Tony space. You pushed off the arms of your chair, not thinking about the possible consequences. 

Fortunately, you didn’t make it very far. Unfortunately, Natasha was not quiet when she scolded you.

“Y/N. Get your broken self back in your chair before I duct tape you to it.” Her voice carried. Tony and Bucky both turned towards you, and upon seeing you almost on your feet, they both moved in your direction.

“Damnit,” you grumbled. Now you had stopped them from talking. As carefully as you could, you lowered yourself back into your chair before either man could make it to you to fuss.

“I’m gonna get her back to her room before she escapes again,” Natasha said. “Steve, could you get the door please?”

You looked at her over your shoulder. FRIDAY would have opened the door for her. Why was she asking Steve? But, of course, Steve stood and opened the door for you and Natasha. He gave you a small smile, and a pat on the shoulder before he headed back into the room. You just glimpsed Bucky and what you thought was the back of Tony’s head move in the direction of a small lounge room as Steve closed the door behind you.

“They’re big boys, Y/N. They can handle themselves,” Natasha chidded.

“Mmm, is that why you distracted Steve for them?” you quipped, resting your head against the back of your chair to look at her face.

A tiny smile appeared on her lips for just a moment. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I wouldn’t step in to help Barnes, and certainly not Stark.”

An answering, but bigger smile appeared on your lips.

---

Natasha wasn’t as dedicated to guarding you as Bucky had been. An hour later, you were alone in your room. You hadn’t managed to sleep, but laying down had helped a little. Your mind was too busy crafting scenarios about what could or could not be happening now that you weren’t there to supervise. Jeez, you sounded like a mom.

“I’m no-one’s mom,” you grumbled to yourself, as you slowly inched your way to the edge of your mattress. “I’m just nosy.”

“FRIDAY?”

“Yes Y/N?”

“Are Tony and Bucky still talking?”

“Yes, it would appear that way ma’am.”

“What room are they in?”

------------------------------------------------------------

Perma Tags (Open): @buckyappreciationsociety , @17marvelousfreak , @melconnor2007 , @writingwithadinosaur , @whenallsaidanddone , @hello-sweetie-get-the-salt , @umwhatandrea , @pineapplebooboo , @thefridgeismybestie , @xlemon-limex , @sammysgirl1997 , @4theluvofall , @geeksareunique  @madcheshire89 , @shakzer00 , @ajimagines , @mummy-woves-you , @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for , @strangersstranger , @dreams-of-feysand

Avengers Perma Tags (Open): @ldyhawkeye , @gonnadiereading , @lilmissperfectlyimperfect 

Bucky/Sebastian Tags (Open): @waywardpumpkin, @smileybear17, @not-sebastian-stan , @chubby-dumplin 

Voiceless Tags (Open): @lostinspace33, @kaitymccoy123, @owhatshername1, @saysay125, @sammysgirl1997, @bunnymother93, @henrietteoaks, @moistpotatobear, @thatcrazybookwormgeek, @kathieycarrerarosshley , @coconutknees, @badwolf-87, @lexie-mo, @inumorph, @kathieycarrerarosshley, @unknownuserhasjoined , @just-a-littlebit-of-everything  @tamaranianprincess

[angelofthequeers]

Hold Me By Both Hands: Chapter 32

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

Basically just my way of covering episodes I didn’t want to write but also wanted to establish XD

Chapter 31 | Chapter 33 | AO3 link

[9:23 pm] Chat Noir has joined miraculass.

Chat Noir: heh

Chat Noir: nice chat name

Chat Noir: didn’t know you had it in you foxy

Rena Rouge: i’ll actually ban you

Chat Noir: :(

Chat Noir: say sike rn

Rena Rouge: don’t test me

[9:28 pm] Carapace has joined miraculass.

Rena Rouge: hey shellhead

Carapace: would’ve thought we’d be more mature

Carapace: yk since we’re superheroes n all

Rena Rouge: hey

Rena Rouge: if i didn’t do it

Rena Rouge: chat would’ve

Chat Noir: you wound me

**Chat Noir: **but you’re right

**Chat Noir: **just don’t tell lb or she’ll have my arse

Rena Rouge: you know she can just scroll up when she joins right

Chat Noir: FUCK

[9:52 pm] Ladybug_ _has joined miraculass.

Ladybug: very mature, whoever named the chat

Rena Rouge: skdhfsojsaljfs;dlsa;ldjwjkhdfladybug

Rena Rouge: sorry autocorrect

Carapace: a likely excuse

Rena Rouge: it was chat

Chat Noir: le what

**Chat Noir: **i've been framed

Chat Noir: scroll up lb

Ladybug: both Chat and Rena are banned

Rena Rouge: >:|

Chat Noir: noooooo

Carapace: is it too late to give back the miraculous?

**Rena Rouge: **hey

Chat Noir: :(

Ladybug: yes, it is

Ladybug: you can’t leave me with the furries

Chat Noir: i’m not a furry :|

Rena Rouge: i resemble that remark

Carapace: you kinda r dude

Carapace: you literally run around in a black leather catsuit

Chat Noir: you come into my house

[9:59 pm] Carapace set Chat Noir’s name to furry noir.

furry noir: >:|

Rena Rouge: PFFT

[10:00 pm] Carapace set Rena Rouge’s name to what does the fox say.

furry noir: PFFT

what does the fox say: JFC

what does the fox say: i will find you

**what does the fox say: **and i will shove my flute

Ladybug: PERFECT

**furry noir: **i think you mean

Ladybug: don’t you dare

furry noir: purrfect

Ladybug: >:|

furry noir: 0:)

what does the fox say: oh come on now i can’t even finish my threat

what does the fox say: just wait till i name you shellhead

[10:01 pm] Carapace set their name to mess w turt u get hurt.

what does the fox say: istg

furry noir: bro

furry noir: i think i love you

mess w turt u get hurt: ew no

mess w turt u get hurt: ladybug save me from the furry

Ladybug: I’ll tell on you

furry noir: lol

furry noir: you think you scare me

Ladybug: no

Ladybug: but you-know-who does

furry noir: D:

what does the fox say: !!!!!

what does the fox say: wHO

Ladybug: inside joke

Ladybug: nvm

what does the fox say: :(

furry noir: omg

furry noir: ladybug you’re bi right

Ladybug: uh, yeah

what does the fox say: we had that freebie convo remember

mess w turt u get hurt: wait what

[10:04 pm] furry noir set Ladybug’s name to ladyBIrd.

ladyBIrd: I swear to god

ladyBIrd: thanks, now my kwami won’t stop laughing

furry noir: :)

ladyBIrd: this is so unfair

ladyBIrd: she’s supposed to be on my side

furry noir: at least yours sides w you sometimes

what does the fox say: and i thought trixx could be a little shit

mess w turt u get hurt: man i’m glad wayzz is chill

furry noir: :(

ladyBIrd: nope, I can’t do this

ladyBIrd: I can’t handle that name popping up every time I get a notification

[10:07 pm] ladyBIrd set furry noir’s name to catitude.

catitude: :D

what does the fox say: k cool i’ll keep this ancient relic name

ladyBIrd: only from like 2013, it’s not that old

mess w turt u get hurt: man i feel old when i remember those days

what does the fox say: stfu

what does the fox say: you named me you don’t get to regret

chat noir: don’t regretti the spaghetti

[10:20 pm]

catitude: guys?

[10:32 pm]

catitude: i see how it is

[10:35 pm] direct messages

Ladybug: hey

Ladybug: you know we’re not actually mad at your joke, right?

Chat Noir: yeah ik

Chat Noir: i’ll get yelled at if you’re actually mad

Ladybug: :(

Ladybug: no, you won’t

Ladybug: just a stern talking-to

Ladybug: unless you sacrifice yourself for me or something

Chat Noir: oof

Chat Noir: you’re still mad bout zombizou?

Ladybug: and Dark Cupid

Ladybug: and Timebreaker

Ladybug: I mean, I know I’m the only one who can purify akumas

Ladybug: but jfc

Chat Noir: sorry

Chat Noir: i just

Chat Noir: it’s not like i’m trying to play the hero yk?

Chat Noir: it’s just like

Chat Noir: i don’t want to get zombified or dusted or whatevs

Chat Noir: and it’s not like chivalry or whatever protect the lady bullshit

Chat Noir: i just know that you’re the only one who can fix everything

Chat Noir: and you’ll bring me back

Ladybug: yeah but

Ladybug: it doesn’t make watching you get killed or brainwashed any easier

Ladybug: and I can’t exactly see a therapist or something

Ladybug: because secret identities and all that

Chat Noir: :(

Chat Noir: i wanna say i promise not to throw myself in front of you

Chat Noir: but i can’t promise that

Ladybug: I know

Ladybug: I just

Ladybug: I can’t talk to anyone about it

Ladybug: except for you

Ladybug: and one of these days, everything’s going to get to me

Ladybug: and I’m just going to explode

Ladybug: fuck, I’m only 15

Chat Noir: oof

Chat Noir: same

Chat Noir: about the age thing

Chat Noir: and about the can’t tell anyone else thing

Chat Noir: my father’s kind of a dick so

Ladybug: :(

Chat Noir: but all i want is his approval

Chat Noir: like fuck do i have to scrape out my soul and turn myself into a robot to make him happy

Chat Noir: sorry

Chat Noir: didn’t mean to explode

Ladybug: don’t apologise

Ladybug: seriously

Ladybug: we’re in this together

Chat Noir: <3

Ladybug: <3

Chat Noir: why milady are you flirting with me

Chat Noir: whatever would marinette say

Ladybug: buzz off

Chat Noir: wrong miraculous :)

Ladybug: I’ll ask Rena to ban you

Chat Noir: actually

Chat Noir: should we ask her to give us mod power instead of her

Chat Noir: yk cause we’re the ogs

Ladybug: well, I don’t think Rena would abuse her power

Ladybug: and she is the tech whiz out of us

Ladybug: maybe just get her to give us mod power too

Chat Noir: tru tru

Chat Noir: i should go to bed

Chat Noir: but like

Chat Noir: i get to talk to you

Chat Noir: whenever I want

Ladybug: <3

Ladybug: go to bed, kitty

Ladybug: you can talk to me whenever you want, so I’ll still be here when you wake up

Chat Noir: k

Chat Noir: night bugaboo <3

Ladybug: night, kitty <3

[9:02 am] miraculass

ladyBIrd: oh, by the way

ladyBIrd: rules

ladyBIrd: don’t say anything that could give identities away

catitude: duh

ladyBIrd: and don’t abuse pings

what does the fox say: omg thank god

what does the fox say: i legit left a chat cause someone kept @ing us

what does the fox say: all the time

mess w turt u get hurt: so like only for emerg?

ladyBIrd: yep

ladyBIrd: or if you really need to get our attention

catitude: btw rena

catitude: knight us

what does the fox say: wut

ladyBIrd: he means

ladyBIrd: please give me and Chat mod powers

what does the fox say: k

what does the fox say: can i still be mod

ladyBIrd: sure, you’re the one who knows how to work this

what does the fox say: fuck yeah

mess w turt u get hurt: hello darkness my old friend

what does the fox say: suck it shellhead >:)

mess w turt u get hurt: you wanna go furry?

ladyBIrd: thank god it’s Saturday

ladyBIrd: I’m still in bed

what does the fox say: lmfao

what does the fox say: sounds like my bff

what does the fox say: she’s always late

ladyBIrd: >:|

catitude: i know who you’re talking about

catitude: and may i just say

catitude: bitch

what does the fox say: <3

mess w turt u get hurt: cool

mess w turt u get hurt: not like i’m here or anythin

ladyBIrd: I hope you’re nicer to your best friend than Rena is to hers

what does the fox say: hey

mess w turt u get hurt: fuckin duh

catitude: :)

mess w turt u get hurt: :)?

catitude: ¯_(ツ)_/¯

what does the fox say: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

ladyBIrd: Donkey!

what does the fox say: jkasdosdcpdskcsklandkjehfu

mess w turt u get hurt: omg

catitude: marry me milady

ladyBIrd: ew, no thanks

catitude: :(

catitude: how could this happen to me

catitude: i made my mistakes

what does the fox say: can i just say

what does the fox say: being in a gc with lb and cn

what does the fox say: is the only thing i’ve wanted from life

mess w turt u get hurt: i thought you said you had a bf

what does the fox say: eh

what does the fox say: he’ll get over it

mess w turt u get hurt: i mean

mess w turt u get hurt: tbf my gf would live thru me if she knew

what does the fox say: i love the sound of her

mess w turt u get hurt: !!!!!

mess w turt u get hurt: wait till i tell her what a superhero said

mess w turt u get hurt: rip to her

catitude: is this the sound of getting along i hear? :D

what does the fox say: hell no

mess w turt u get hurt: hell no

what does the fox say: scuse me mr copycat

catitude: that brings back memories

mess w turt u get hurt: uh obvs i was typing before you

what does the fox say: think you need to get your eyes checked shellhead

ladyBIrd: ANYWAY

ladyBIrd: you know you can’t tell her about this, right?

mess w turt u get hurt: :|

mess w turt u get hurt: ugh forgot

mess w turt u get hurt: anyway rena you’re annoying but you’re ok

what does the fox say: yea you’re mildly tolerable too

catitude: aww :D

what does the fox say: stfu

[10:35 am] miraculass

ladyBIrd: @everyone akuma

what does the fox say: no shit really

mess w turt u get hurt: guess max wasn’t lying bout markov having feelings :/

catitude: i’m just about to transform

catitude: cu on the flipside

ladyBIrd: same

what does the fox say: can we help

ladyBIrd: yes please

ladyBIrd: I’ve never seen a non-human akuma before

what does the fox say: i’m surprised chloe even tried to help

what does the fox say: like told ms m that she was being ridiculous

what does the fox say: then went after marinette to mr d’s office to help get markov back

mess w turt u get hurt: maybe she’s really changing

mess w turt u get hurt: ugh my gf keeps texting someone but she still noticed me trying to get away

what does the fox say: rip

what does the fox say: my bf is trying to ditch me

what does the fox say: i mean k i need to get away to transform

what does the fox say: but he’s being sus

what does the fox say: nvm i ducked into bathroom

what does the fox say: let him keep his secrets

mess w turt u get hurt: just got away from gf gonna turn now

what does the fox say: same with bf

ladyBIrd: just hurry and transform before Mendeleiev falls

ladyBIrd: also this is killing me

what does the fox say: ????

ladyBIrd: nvm

ladyBIrd: inside joke

what does the fox say: >:|

[12:03 pm] miraculass

ladyBIrd: good job, guys

mess w turt u get hurt: poor max

what does the fox say: i’m glad he turned markov back on

catitude: same

catitude: but uh

catitude: we’re gonna be late back to class if we don’t hurry

what does the fox say: SHIT

[6:48 pm] miraculass

ladyBIrd: so

ladyBIrd: interesting fact

what does the fox say: ?????

ladyBIrd: we talked to the guy who gave our Miraculouses

ladyBIrd: he said that HM wants them because the Ladybug and Black Cat combined lets you make a wish

catitude: like

catitude: any wish

catitude: whatev you want

mess w turt u get hurt: shit

what does the fox say: ugh so he’s after ultimate power

what does the fox say: typical

what does the fox say: can’t even be an interesting villain

mess w turt u get hurt: but like

mess w turt u get hurt: why don’t we use them and wish

ladyBIrd: yeah, I asked that

ladyBIrd: wishing has a price

what does the fox say: duh

mess w turt u get hurt: i’m gonna choose to ignore you bc serious business

catitude: yeah so if hawkass like wishes to bring someone back to life or something

catitude: someone else just as important gets dusted

ladyBIrd: equal exchange

ladyBIrd: and the universe shifts to accommodate that change

mess w turt u get hurt: oof

what does the fox say: shit

ladyBIrd: yeah

ladyBIrd: cause Chat and I are balance and all

ladyBIrd: hence why ours have that power

what does the fox say: but he’ll never get them

what does the fox say: cause like

what does the fox say: he’s not even a good bad guy

mess w turt u get hurt: rena has a point

mess w turt u get hurt: just same shit over again

what does the fox say: he never like makes an akuma to track miracs

what does the fox say: or make a stealth akuma to follow and see you turn back

mess w turt u get hurt: yeah he just makes weird akumas n prays they win

catitude: f for hawkmoth’s intelligence

ladyBIrd: let us be thankful he’s not that competent

[1:19 pm] miraculass

what does the fox say: oh btw

what does the fox say: happy 1 month anniv of this chat

catitude: you called?

what does the fox say: -_-

mess w turt u get hurt: shit has it been a month

ladyBIrd: and a month since you joined the team, Carapace!

mess w turt u get hurt: !!!!

mess w turt u get hurt: didn’t even realise

ladyBIrd: you and Rena were excellent choices

catitude: yeah you guys are pawsome heroes

what does the fox say: lasjddksfjsalkdsalfhjdksjsdladybugthankmarryme

what does the fox say: also stfu chat

catitude: :(

catitude: no one loves this poor cat

ladyBIrd: mhm

catitude: :(

mess w turt u get hurt: i’m here for u bro

catitude: bro

mess w turt u get hurt: bro

what does the fox say: welp

what does the fox say: f for shellhead’s gf

mess w turt u get hurt: hey you’d do lb so f for your bf

what does the fox say: i mean

catitude: called tf out lol

what does the fox say: banned

catitude: can’t

catitude: i’m irresistpawble

ladyBIrd: i’m telling on you

catitude: mmm whatcha say :(

what does the fox say: k srsly who is this person

ladyBIrd: nvm

what does the fox say: fine

what does the fox say: keep your secrets

[11:19 am] miraculass

ladyBIrd: SHITSHITSHITSHIT

ladyBIrd: ADRIEN NO

what does the fox say: chloe’s mum??? srsly???

ladyBIrd: @catitude where are you???

ladyBIrd: @catitude @catitude @catitude @catitude @catitude

ladyBIrd: I CAN’T TAKE ON STYLE QUEEN MYSELF

what does the fox say: lb

what does the fox say: hold on

[11:22 am] direct messages

Rena Rouge: hey

Rena Rouge: lb

Rena Rouge: maybe he’s not here yet

Ladybug: or maybe he got glittered!

Rena Rouge: well you don’t have to take on sq yourself

Rena Rouge: i’m here

Rena Rouge: so is carapace

Ladybug: nope

Ladybug: he got glittered too

Rena Rouge: oof

Rena Rouge: huh what are the chances of all 4 of us being here

Ladybug: i gotta transform

Ladybug: i thought chloe was doing better

Ladybug: she tried to help Marinette with Markov last week

Ladybug: but she’s sucking up to Style Queen

Rena Rouge: she could be playing sq

Rena Rouge: she’s got a boner for you remember

Ladybug: ew, no

Ladybug: just

Ladybug: transform

Rena Rouge: k

Rena Rouge: she’s gonna pay for hitting nino

Rena Rouge: and chat

Rena Rouge: and shellhead i guess

[12:04 pm] direct messages

Rena Rouge: WAS THAT CHAT’S KWAMI

Ladybug: yep

Ladybug: Plagg

Ladybug: don’t worry, first time meeting him for me too

Rena Rouge: i can’t believe he just

Rena Rouge: STAY AWAY FROM THE LADYBUG

Rena Rouge: that was adorable

Rena Rouge: and then i got glittered

Rena Rouge: still salty i missed the mass cataclysm

Ladybug: well, you were right about Chloe

Rena Rouge: yeah

Rena Rouge: getting glittered to save us from sq

Ladybug: I kind of feel sorry for her

Ladybug: realising that your mother won’t love you and doesn’t think you’re exceptional

Ladybug: it’s not an excuse but

Ladybug: I did talk to her a few months ago and she said it was like a switch being flipped

Rena Rouge: maybe u could talk to her again then

Rena Rouge: like

Rena Rouge: we don’t owe her anything

Rena Rouge: but if she stops being a bitch then our lives are better

Ladybug: true

Ladybug: she got Marinette to help her be better, you know

Rena Rouge: ew

Rena Rouge: why would mari do that after all the bullying

Ladybug: probably to make her life and everyone else’s lives easier

Rena Rouge: true

Ladybug: OH SHIT

Rena Rouge: um???

Rena Rouge: why does chloe have the bee??? and calling herself queen bee???

Ladybug: I DROPPED IT

Ladybug: I couldn’t think of anyone on such short notice but my Lucky Charm said so

Ladybug: I was gonna become Ladybee

Rena Rouge: wait you can use two???

Ladybug: yeah but it can be too much to handle

Ladybug: we needed to immobilise Style Queen

Ladybug: and I freaking DROPPED IT

Ladybug: I’m DEAD

Rena Rouge: well

**Rena Rouge: **that was a heck of a mental breakdown

Ladybug: I have to go after Chloe but my family won’t let me out of their sight :|

Rena Rouge: i’ll go

Rena Rouge: wait

Rena Rouge: where exactly are you??

Ladybug: secret identities >:|

Rena Rouge: right sorry

Rena Rouge: i just

Rena Rouge: force of habit

Rena Rouge: not that i ever would’ve exposed you

Ladybug: I know

Ladybug: I trust you

Rena Rouge: lsdkfpsdjcjsahfdsfjhnfdkjlkofkgimgay

Ladybug: Rena

Rena Rouge: right going

[1:37 pm] miraculass

mess w turt u get hurt: um

mess w turt u get hurt: so

mess w turt u get hurt: that happened

what does the fox say: fuckin chloe

ladyBIrd: I’m not judging her

ladyBIrd: like, her mother’s totally awful

ladyBIrd: but jfc I kind of wish I’d gotten another punch in

what does the fox say: still no excuse

catitude: yeah but the way her mum fucked her up on live tv

catitude: i kinda feel bad for her

ladyBIrd: at least she gave the Miraculous back

what does the fox say: fuckin hawkdick

what does the fox say: i could be helping my bff make a life changing choice

what does the fox say: but no i had to bust my arse on another akuma

mess w turt u get hurt: ugh why doesn’t hawkdick have a timer like us

ladyBIrd: because he’s an adult

ladyBIrd: apparently, adults don’t have the limits we do

mess w turt u get hurt: gdi

catitude: looks like no bee for now then

ladyBIrd: btw, Plagg told me details about all the anime you watch

catitude: FUCK

what does the fox say: EXPOSED

[sushigal007]

The Pleasants

To the Pleasants! I was gonna save this as a draft and post it next week, but Tumblr’s started eating them again and this is the third time I’ve written it up, so lucky you, you get to read it early. And you can find the 2012 round one here if you’re interested.

That’s very sweet, Daniel, but it’s not happening. A platinum old age death is basically winning the death lottery.

Daniel: Then I wanna do something else to cheer myself up.

Mary-Sue: Works for me!

Angela: This is exactly how I wanted to start my week. Yeah, and I didn’t wanna type this out three times, and yet, here we are.

Angela: This is more like it.

Gigi: *instantly dies of spite*

Mary-Sue: Let’s talk about crystal balls.

Townie: Scuse me, coming through!

Mary-Sue: Don’t look at my knees.

Angela was supposed to come along on the Downtown outing, but she decided to stay at home and do her homework instead. So I decided to sent Daniel and Mary-Sue out on a more grown-up trip.

Daniel: Can we have a couple of cups of coffee please?

Malcolm: So the political situation in Veronaville is quite tense, isn’t it? Mary-Sue: Yeahhhhh this is all getting a bit heavy. Me and my husband are going to find somewhere more... atmospheric.

To the Lost In Love Hedge Maze! How’s that for atmospheric? Townie: Speaking of atmosphere, I’m not sure we should be out in this weather. Mary-Sue: Why’s that?

DOUBLE LIGHTNING STRIKE C-C-C-COMBO!!! Townie: That’s why.

Townie: Haha!

Really? You’re going in again? Mary-Sue: They say lightning doesn’t strike twice. It... literally just struck twice at once. Mary-Sue: I’ll risk- OH MY GOD IS THAT TV STAR ROBERT KIM!?

Mary-Sue: Hi, I just wanted to say I’m a huge fan, Mr Kim. Great show. Huge fan. Robert: Uh, thanks.

Mary-Sue: I love him.

And then she burned her food so badly, all her hair burned off.

Angela: Wheeeee levitation! You can’t sleep there, your parents are about to use it.

Daniel and Mary-Sue: Damn right we are!

Angela: Oh shit oh shit they’re IN MY HAIR!

Out to the park, and yay, my swimable lake works!

Dustin: You can’t eat hotdogs forever, asshole.

Daniel: Ow.

Daniel: Can’t attack a man playing chess.

Congrats Angela!

Is it really that bad? Daniel: Yes.

Mary-Sue to the rescue!

Daniel: Happy wife, happy life! Yeah, and all you had to do was stay faithful. Mary-Sue: What was that? Daniel: Nothing!

Angela: Pretty stars tonight.

Angela: Didn’t need to see that though.

Oh yay, Angela gets her last day off school! What are you gonna do with it, Angela?

Angela: Set fire to the kitchen. Sounds fun! Enjoy! I’m gonna let your dad go tinkering.

Daniel: Really hope this doesn’t kill me.

And then Angela spends her afternoon hanging out with friends.

Dustin: Just watching my girlfriend play Punch-U with some other guy, this is fine.

Angela: I’d love to go on a cruise. Tara: Maybe in Sims 5.

More of this.

Angela: And that’s me off to college. Mary-Sue and Daniel: Bye! Don’t forget to visit!

But first, they get a couple of other visitors.

Coral: This is very nice, dear.

John: You should try eggs next.

John: So... while I’m here, how about one of those athletic massages? Daniel: Weird request, but OK.

John: Mmm, your hands feel soooo- OK! This is creepy (and 100% autonomous!) so I’m gonna go check on Mary-Sue now.

Mary-Sue: Just keep swimming.

Gardeners: We’re just taking a break. ...An all day break, huh?

And then Daniel reached his LTW!

Daniel: Are these my reward? No! Dismiss them before they take over the house!

Daniel: So how does it feel to be married to a Hall Of Famer? Mary-Sue: Not as good as woohooing one. Daniel: I can take a hint. Mary-Sue: Ley’s take it to a community lot.

Daniel: The coast is clear. Yeah, I cropped out the audience.

Couldn’t crop them out of this one where you were checking for pubes in your teeth though.

OK these two are really making the most of having the house to themselves.

But Mary-Sue has to go to work, so I sent Daniel out on the town.

Where he runs into his little sister. Jennifer: Daniel! Heard you became a Hall Of Famer, congratulations!

Daniel: *poses*

But Daniel’s growing up in a day, so it’s time for a family get-together!

Mary-Sue: Here’s some stuff from your grandmother. Lilith: Oh! Thanks.

Mary-Sue: And stuff for you too. Angela: Just what I need for university!

Big family dinner.

And then it’s time for Daniel- Daniel: Nope. CC cake. I’m staying an adult. Oh. Uh, well, OK, enjoy the cake, I suppose.

Lilith: She really thinks we’re gonna get cruises in Sims 5!? We’ll be lucky if we even get cars!

So. Daniel’s last day of adulthood, and I let him play on the shooting range in Veronaville.

Daniel: Just something for home protection. Y’know, if teenage boys come over to steal the paper and kick over the bin. I mean, I could get roach flu, it’s basically an assassination attempt.

Really? Again? Once wasn’t enough?

Samantha: Oooh, hello handsome!

Daniel: But will I still be handsome when I’m old and grey?

Tara: Have you tried hitting the balls with a tennis racket? Daniel: No, because I’m not an idiot.

Daniel: Can I get a burger please? Before I become an elder? Waitress: The service isn’t that slow.

Finally the time arrives. I couldn’t be bothered inviting the family over again, so Sophia Jocque is the only witness.

Daniel: Oh, OK, this isn’t so bad after all. Daniel: And now, to check if everything still works.

Daniel: Is... is she gonna stay here? Mary-Sue: Don’t care, got a promotion.

Daniel: Well, in that case!

Sophia: I’ve gone blind.

And the week ends with Daniel giving Sophia a little advice. Daniel: I couldn’t help overhearing you. Have you considered getting your eyes tested? I hear Barnard Castle is pretty good.

UBERHOOD INDEX