#we weren’t the target audience but we could have been

[sawvhs]

TO THE EVOLVED MIND SPIRAL IS SO SO GOOD. how is there not one million people talking about this

RIGHT!!! i still do not remotely understand how ‘kill cops the movie’ did not pop off on tumblr at least a little bit.

[whimsiwitchy]

Controversially Young Girlfriend (part five)

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 

series masterlist & main masterlist

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns, sexual themes.

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. I do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything!! <3

authors note: the wait is over. yay! This isn’t how I expected this part to end but I let my mind take charge…plans change. I hope the end is okay, i’ve never written anything like that before so i’m a little nervy for y’alls reactions lol. let me know what you guys think! Enjoy <3

part five: new york changes you

The whole ‘friends for now’ deal you set with Hugh has been an enthralling experience so far. A month has passed since that night in your living room, a month of struggling to resist the charisma of Hugh Jackman. Right now, your two lives couldn’t be more different: your album had dropped three weeks ago, one week after the deal was made. It has been an absolute success with four of your songs sitting in the top ten since the drop. You were doing interview after interview and rehearsals for your tour started up this past week. Meanwhile, Hugh was living the simple life. He has been done with his Deadpool and Wolverine promo for some time now and he’s been enjoying his free time. That was something you didn’t have much of as of recent- free time. You were trying to balance the few moments of freedom between all of the people you cared for, which mostly consisted of Ashley and Hugh. It’s gotten to a point where you were inviting your friends to the tour rehearsals just to be able to see them. When the idea first popped up, you had been afraid that they would be too distracting but the outcome was the opposite. Having a mini audience that weren’t part of the tour team, allowed everyone to make changes to things with the input of outside opinions. Ashley and a small group of your other friends were rehearsal regulars now.

You’d been seeing Hugh more privately, both of you agreeing to stay out of the public eye for a little bit while the dating rumors died down. Ashley had been a little too enthusiastic about your decision to be Hugh’s friend and nothing more. You loved reminding her that it was hopefully a temporary situation while we decided if being together exclusively was the right choice for both of us. She liked to ignore that part. Her despisement towards Hugh has been a mystery to you. She was always a little protective over you, as any normal friend would be, but it had never been to this extent. 

“Ash, do you wanna come to rehearsal tomorrow. We’re finally putting the choreography on the actual stage. I think you’ll like it. It’s gonna be fun.” You ask. The two of you were currently at Target shopping for her new apartment. “Uhhh of course. I need to catch up on all of the songs I missed. Then maybe you’ll consider putting me up on stage.” The last sentence comes out more singsongy than usual as she tries to convince you. She has brought up being on stage so often, you were beginning to feel bad, but she was a shit dancer. You didn’t have the heart to tell her. “Cool. I have to be there at seven, but I was thinking you guys could show up at noon. That’s when we’re scheduled to move over to the stage.” Her eyes light up. “Ooo. Who else is coming? Please tell me you invited Taylor again, she’s fun.” She rambles on as she pushes the cart through the lamp aisle. “Oh. I didn’t invite the girls again. It’s uh…it’s just gonna be you and Hugh.” She puts the lamp she’s been observing back onto the shelf. “Actually, I just remembered I have plans tomorrow.” She states flatley and starts to push the cart again. You follow her, waiting until you enter an aisle that was free of people before confronting her. “Ashley, don't be like that.” You whine. “I’m not being like anything y/n. I just forgot I had plans.” She shrugs as she busies herself by looking at the bathroom decor on the shelves. “What do you have against him?” You blurt out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Cut the shit Ash. You know exactly what I'm talking about. I can’t even mention his name without you trying to change the subject. I can’t even talk to my best friend about the guy I like because of this weird fucking grudge you have against him.” She stares at you, giving you a few slow blinks before speaking again. “Fine. I’ll be there but I can’t promise I'll be civil.” 

You didn’t push her any further, her answer was good enough for now. Target wasn’t the right place to fight with her about this and it probably wouldn’t do any good anyway. As much as you loved Ashley, she had a tendency to do and say wherever she pleased but when it came back to her, she played victim. It was becoming harder to deal with now that you weren’t children anymore. Later that night, while on facetime with Hugh, you decided to warn him about the shitshow which he was bound to end up in tomorrow.

“I’m not really sure what her deal is honestly. She won’t tell me why she doesn’t like you.” You pout. “It’s okay baby, not everyone is going to like me. I can handle it.” 

The endearments had been something that Hugh didn’t drop after the ‘just friends’ talk. You thought about talking to him about it but the words sounded too good rolling off of his tongue. You argued that it wasn’t any different than your other friends calling you ‘babe’- it wasn’t the same at all but you didn’t care. You knew it meant more to both of you. 

“I know, but it would be really nice if you two could be friends, ya know? She just gets too overprotective I guess…” You tell him, not really believing your own words. “You don’t have to come tomorrow if you don’t want to. We can pick another day for you to come if you feel like it’ll be too awkward.” “Tomorrow is fine y/n. Everything will be okay. Don’t think about it too much, I’m sure I can charm her a little bit, get her on my side.” He assures you.

Ashley was on her worst behavior and it was pissing you off. It felt like you had covered Hugh in blood and thrown him to the sharks- when you think about it, he probably would have had a better shot at fighting off the sharks. The entire day so far had been full of eye rolls and snarky comments. When you had a moment alone with Hugh, all you could do was apologize for her behavior and he swore it was fine, it wasn't your fault. Ashley was acting weird towards you the entire morning. When you offered her to get up and learn some choreo, she brushed you off saying that she still needed to wake up. You glanced over at Hugh and Ashley every few minutes as they talked. It looked civil. The music was too loud to hear what the conversation was about and it was making you nervous. Hugh kept his eyes mostly on you as he spoke but Ashley’s were set on Hugh, never looking your way. You tried your best to ignore it, focusing on doing your job.

 For one of the songs, you would be giving one of the dancers named Ethan a lap dance. He had become a good friend over the past year you had known him and he made the whole grinding on him thing a lot less awkward than you thought it would be. “Are you and eye candy over there still playing friends?” Ethan asks as he gestures towards where Hugh and Ashley sat. “Yes..but it’s more lenient. Kinda like dating but nothing exclusive.” You explain, eyes on Hugh. He’s looking back at you and you’re sure he can tell that you’re talking about him. “You should do the dance for him, since he’s a special guest today and all.” He offers, smirk present on his face. “You don’t think that would be too mean? I want him to want me but I don’t wanna ruin the man. At least not yet anyways.” A similar smirk to Ethan’s was rising to your lips at the thought of Hugh being flustered over you. “I think you should do it.” You think about it for a moment and shame yourself for how quickly you made your decision. “You’re a bad influence.” You tell Ethan. Hugh’s eyes are still on you and you point your finger at him and wiggle it, motioning him to come here. 

“I’m gonna go sit down, have fun.” Ethan says and goes down the stairs to the stage as Hugh walks up them. “What’s up sweetheart?” He asks. “Ethan isn’t feeling well right now, would you mind standing in for him? You don’t have to do anything, just sit in that chair.” You point to the metal fold up chair that sits in the center of the catwalk. “Yea I can do that.” His smile is authentic, happy to help. “Thank you baby.” You say and you reach up to leave a quick kiss on his cheek. You pick up the mic that you sat on the stage floor earlier and turn it on. “We’re ready to go for the next one.” You announce through it so the sound crew could hear you. They announce ‘places’ and Hugh sits down in the chair. You walk over to the marker on the floor that indicates your starting position for this song. It’s about five feet behind Hugh’s chair, leaving him clueless on what’s happening. 

The song starts and you strut to the beat until you reach the chair. Your hands are on either side of Hugh’s chest and you move your hands around the same way that you had practiced many times before. His chest was hard and you could feel the muscles of his pecs. You slide your hands up to his shoulders and walk slowly around the chair until you're right in front of Hugh. The song slows at this point, giving the perfect moment for you to slowly drop yourself into his lap, arms around his neck. There’s three quick beats and you bounce up and down. Hugh’s eyes are wide in surprise. He’s a lot taller than Ethan and his thighs hold more muscle. It took a moment to get used to as the routine went on. The entire dance was pretty stereotypical: a lot of grinding, ass popping, and touching. You spent a good majority of the song whispering the words quietly to Hugh. He kept his hands to himself, not wanting to interrupt whatever move you had to do next. When the song ends, you’re out of Hugh’s lap and standing a foot in front of him for your ending pose. The crew gives you the okay to move and you turn back to Hugh, mischief present in your face. “Thank you Hugh!” You squeal, giving him a quick hug once he stands up. “Yea. yea…You’re such a tease.” He says the second part low enough so only you hear. As he walks back to his seat, you could have sworn you saw him trying to discreetly reposition whatever was happening in his pants. 

During your lunch break, Ashley’s strange act continued as she made up some excuse for her to leave- you could tell she was lying. Hugh and yourself ended up ordering subs from some local deli and ate in your dressing room. “So what do you think about everything so far?” You ask, referring to the choreo you’d been learning for the past three hours. “It’s…fun.” You huff at that. “You’re so terrible at describing things Hugh. Oh my god.” You complain. “I’m sorry…It's good.” You give him a blank stare, not satisfied with his answers. “Okay okay, don’t give me that look. You’re phenomenal…watching you dance and feeling you dance on me is making it really hard to just be your friend.” He shrugs, taking another bite of his sandwich. His answer makes you blush, familiar butterflies fly around your tummy. “Oh.” It’s all you could say. “You don’t have to accept my invites if it’s too hard on you.” “Hm. That’s not it, babe. I definitely want to be here. Wouldn’t have wanted to miss that little stunt you pulled earlier.” He winks as he refers to the lapdance. 

Comments like that had been frequent throughout the past month. Hugh Jackman was a natural flirt. That was a fact you had the pleasure of learning from personal experience and the displeasure of learning from the internet. You had seen countless videos of him being a flirty slut- as a married man. It worried you and had been something you’d been thinking about nonstop since the discovery. Him flirting with you was one thing, but you didn’t like the idea of him flirting with others when he was ‘yours’. You’d also seen videos of him mentioning multiple times that he liked older women, which had become another concern that ate at your brain. Last week, Hugh had come over for a movie night and you planned on casually mentioning the apprehension you had around the issue. 

“Sooo, I heard you liked older women?” 

Casual had never been your thing. 

“Uh..yea. It’s a preference of mine.” You could tell that the question made him uncomfortable. The tiny little toxic part of your heart was happy about that. You let out a short hum. “What was that for?”

 “What was what for?” 

 “Your little ‘hm.’.” You shrug as you speak your next words. “It’s just interesting.” 

 “What’s interesting.”  “You having a preference for older women.”  

“How is that any different from you liking older men?” He asks genuinely and you could honestly smack him right now for not seeing the issue and you would if he wasn’t across the couch. “Hm. I don’t know. Maybe the fact that I’m currently interested in an older man and you’re straying quite far from your preferences Mr.Jackman.” He lets out a deep belly laugh. “Why are you laughing at me?” You cross your arms, a small pout sits on your lips. “You're jealous.” He smirks. “I’m not jealous. I’m skeptical.”  “There's no reason to be.” His eyes are gentle.  “If you say so.” You didn’t want to damper the mood but your mind was filled with ‘what ifs’ and you needed reassurance.

 “Hey. Come here sweet girl.” He motions for you to sit closer to him. You crawl over and his arm drapes over your shoulder. Your head rests on his chest and his cheek is resting on the crown of your hair. “I promise you have nothing to worry about. I like you and only you.” “Pinky promise?” You look up at him, holding out your pinky. He lets out a chuckle and links his pinky with your own. “Pinky promise.” He was looking down at you. You were staring in his eyes, watching the reflection from the flame of the pumpkin pie scented candle that sat on the coffee table flicker. He slowly leaned down, allowing his lips to softly touch yours. It was a lazy kiss, lips moving every few seconds. You could feel every part of Hugh’s lip slide against yours. The slowness of it all was arousing- the heat from his body wasn’t helping. The upward stretch of your neck became sore after a few minutes,  giving you the perfect excuse to climb into his lap. The makeout session lasted about thirty minutes, never speeding up, both of you enjoying the intimacy of the demure, slow kisses. You ground your hips into his in an undemanding manor, not wanting to rush the moment, just needing to feel him against you. A few whispered moans were thrown about, a few neck kisses here and there. The rules were beyond broken that night. You liked to imagine what would have happened if there wasn’t a knock on the door from the food you ordered earlier. 

Your cheeks heat up at the memory as you pick an onion off of your sandwich. Hugh was right, you were a tease. That night, he had initiated the kiss but you turned it into so much more. You could've stopped it, blaming it on the pain in your neck, but you wanted more. With Hugh, you always wanted more. It was your stupid idea to be his friend first and it was torturing you. “What’re you thinking about, pretty girl?” Hugh asks, dragging you out of your thoughts. “Nothing...These onions are too strong.” You flick the onion you picked off onto the paper that was once wrapped around your sub. “You sure that’s it? You can talk to me babe.” He’s sincere. He’s always so patient and caring towards you. It makes your heart swell. “I was thinking about our movie night.” You admit. “Anything in particular from that night?” He asks, knowing exactly what you’re thinking about, the wide smirk on his stupid perfect face makes that obvious. “I wasn’t thinking about that, you perv. I was thinking about how I forgot to tell you that I’m going to New York next week.” He didn’t need to know that you were for sure thinking about every detail of his dick that you could remember and you really did forget to tell him that, so you weren’t technically lying. “Hm. I wonder what made you forget?” Smirk still plastered on his face. “I’m gonna ignore that comment.” And you did ignore it, immediately talking about your upcoming trip. “It's kinda gonna be my first time there. I performed a show there but I was gone the next day. I have an entire four days to explore this time. Well except for when I work but whatever.” You shrug at the end, voice filled with excitement ready to see the city in its full glory. “What do you have scheduled when you’re out there?” 

“I have a photoshoot, meetings, then the Tonight Show.” 

“First time on Fallon?” you laugh. “First time on any big talk show, I'm so fucking nervous.” 

“Don’t be. Jimmy’s a great guy and you’re good at talking. It’s easy to pay attention to you.” 

“Do you pay attention to me because I'm a good talker or do you pay attention to me because you think I'm pretty.” You were completely fishing for a compliment and you carried no shame for it. “Both.” 

Hugh had become a really good friend and not just because the two of you shared an occasional kiss. He was there for you when you had no one else. The next day, Ashley came over and you tried to ask her why she lied about needing to leave rehearsal early. She either gave a vague answer for each question or completely dodged it. You never asked Hugh about what they talked about, wanting the answer from your best friend, but it was looking like you would have to turn to him to get closer to the truth. You invited her to New York the second you found out you were going. Trying to get her out of her funky mood, you brought it up, asking if she was excited that it was coming up so soon. She quickly agreed to the excitement but each word came out flat and uninterested. About an hour after she left your house, you got a text. 

bestie boo: hey. i’m actually not gonna be able to make it to new york. sorry, ttyl. 

The text caught you off guard but it wasn’t a total surprise due to Ashley’s behavior while she was at your house. That didn’t mean it hurt any less though. The consistent dodginess from her made your throat tighten up. Your first instinct was to text Hugh, so that’s what you did.

You: hey, are you busy rn? 

Hugh <3: Hi baby. No, I'm not busy. What’s up?

You: can you come over? :(

Hugh <3: On my way! 

When you opened the door for him, worry was written on his face. “What’s wrong?” He takes off his shoes, the same way he has the past few times he’s come over. “I feel like you’re always asking me that.” You slump over slightly. “I gotta make sure my girl is okay.” All of the sadness you had over Ashley almost vanished entirely. “I’m your girl?” You ask looking up at him. “Of course you’re my girl y/n. Just waiting for the day you wanna label it.” He smiles down at you and offers his hand. “Now c’mon, tell me what’s got you all blue.” You grab his hand and he follows the familiar route to your living room couch. He sits down and pulls you down towards him. You’re sitting next to him, your side against his. He pulls your legs up so they lay across his lap and he rubs slow circles into your thigh.

 “What’s got that pretty face of yours frowning?” He pinches your thigh lightly as he asks the question. “It’s Ashley, she’s being really weird Hugh. She always tells me things and now she’s just…not.” He has his own frown now. “I’m sorry baby….Is this about me again?” 

“Kinda but not totally. I just wanted to know why she doesn’t like you. You’ve become so important to me and I plan on having you around for a while. She’s been my best friend since we were kids, I want her to like you and be able to be around you.” You put your hands over your eyes, your palms applying  pressure on them to prevent the tears from falling. All the pent up frustration was starting to reach its limit. “Hey, look at me.” He grabs your chin, a gesture he’s done more times than you can count. “Don’t let me come in between your friendships.” You sigh. “It’s not your fault Hugh.” 

“I…I think it might be my fault a little bit.” He admits with a guilty expression, making your heart sting. “What do you mean?” 

“She uh… Ashley might have flirted with me yesterday. I shut it down but…” He sighs nervously. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t know how to tell you to be honest..” The room around you both felt stuffie and too small. The tears that were held back by the palms of your hands just a few minutes ago, spill out. You were feeling too many emotions: hurt, anger, betrayal. 

This wasn’t the first time Ashley had done something like this. She’d done it with Pedro when the two of you were already together. The only difference is that she felt so guilty that she confessed. This time, Ashley was too much of a coward to tell you what she had done to your face. You didn’t want to lose your best friend but you couldn’t keep her around when all she seemed to do was hurt you. Hugh holds you as you cry, not saying a word. He leaves little kisses on your head and tells you that ‘it’s okay’ over and over. He let you cry without knowing what it was you were crying about. You felt so stupid to have let this slip past you. It had been almost the exact same situation before. Ashley acted weird towards Pedro, she starts being vague, and then you find out what she did. Déjà fucking vu. You couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s funny sweetheart?” Your mind had been racing so fast, you almost forgot that Hugh’s was still here holding you. He had gone still, the only reminder of his presence was the weight of his arms around you. “I just can’t believe she did it again without me noticing. I feel dumb.” His body jerks in surprise. “Again?” 

—

It was Saint Patrick's day and you were at Ashley’s place getting ready for a party. It was a weird holiday to throw a party for but people used any excuse to get drunk. Leading up to this day, Ashley has been yapping non stop about going to her first celebrity party but tonight, she couldn’t have been more quiet. You excused her behavior for nerves, not questioning it more. Her demeanor has been different for a few days. Ashley wasn’t one to open up quickly or talk about her problems. You only pried as much as you could before being shut out and right now you had been completely blocked off. You tried your best to ignore it, trying to focus on the night ahead of you. 

Billie is who had invited you to the party as the two of you grew close. Being the same age, doing the same job, and experiencing the same things made it impossible for the two of you not to be friends. The party was going to be filled with people you’d never met before, so you asked her if you could bring a person or two- Ashley and Pedro. It was when you told Ashley that Pedro would also be coming, that her prior eagerness for the party dissipated. 

Just as you sat down to start your makeup, Ashley finally spoke. “Y/n…I think I’m gonna skip out on the party tonight.” You lift your head to look at her through the mirror.“What, why? We’ve been talking about this for weeks.” 

 “I just don’t feel like going anymore.” She’s scrolling through her phone. “You’re such a shitty liar, Ash. What’s up? Why don’t you wanna go anymore?” You turn the spinny chair your in to face her. She put her phone down and the look on her face was one you wouldn’t ever forget. It was a look full of guilt, shame. You were trying to comfort your best friend while she was about to tell you the most heat shattering words. “I don’t think it’s smart to be around Pedro.” Your brows knit together in confusion. “Why not. I thought you guys were good now, that you liked him?” She’s fidgeting with her hands. “Y/n we kissed.” 

“Who kissed?” You ask, hoping you were misinterpreting what she was saying. “Me and Pedro.” You hadn’t misunderstood her words. 

Your heart shattered. Pedro has only been your boyfriend for a little over a month but it still hurts. You were still in the honeymoon phase, where everything felt like love even though it was just over infatuation with the new relationship. Without thinking about it, you started collecting your things to leave, gathering the makeup you just placed onto the table back into its bag. “What are you doing?” Ashley asks nervously. “I’m leaving.” She didn’t try to stop you. 

When you got home, you felt numb. There was a strong ache in your chest where your heart sits but there wasn’t an ounce of emotions flowing through you. The betrayal of the person you trusted most in this life was worse than any other pain you could think of. You spend hours laying on your bed, staring at the ceiling, when a knock finally pulls you out of whatever trance you were in. “Hey baby. Ashley texted me saying I should come check on you.” He steps into the house and follows you down the entry hall. “Oh I didn’t know you guys were on texting terms now…” You trail off for a second, not leaving Pedro enough time to say anything before you speak again. “Huh…You know, I guess it would make sense, seeing as you guys are apparently on kissing terms.” You stop and stare at him, looking dead in his eyes. He winces. “She told you about that.” The statement pisses you off. “What the fuck do you mean ‘she told you about that.’? Were you planning on keeping it a secret?” Your voice gradually rises alongside the anger in your body. “No, but I-” 

“but fucking what Pedro? You kiss my best fucking friend and then hide it from me??” Your finger hurts from the pressure of pointing it into his chest. “I didn’t kiss her.” You ignore him. “When did it happen?” “Baby, listen to me. I didn’t kiss Ashley.” He ignores you. “WHEN DID IT HAPPEN?” You scream at him, all of the emotions spilling over. You sink down to the floor, abandoning your prior standing position, and you cry. 

“I didn’t kiss her babygirl. I would never hurt you like that.” He sits down next to you, his back against the wall. You don’t speak. “It was last Tuesday, when she came over to talk to me like you asked her to. She said it was because you wanted her to like me, for us to be friends. She started acting differently and before I knew it she was kissing me. That’s all that happened baby.” He explains as he runs his fingers along the baby hairs on your forehead. “You didn’t kiss her?” You look into his big brown puppy eyes, searching for the truth. “I didn’t kiss her.” He affirms. “I promise, babygirl.” 

“Pinky promise?” He interlocks his pinky with yours. 

You didn’t speak to Ashley for two weeks after that incident. You wanted so badly to know why she did it, but in the end you didn’t think it mattered, each outcome still ended with her being a selfish person- a bad friend. You didn’t really talk things out either but you decided to forgive her. The friendship was too important to you at the time to give up but you wouldn’t let her be anywhere near Pedro again. The idea of them being friends was out the window. 

—

 “What a bitch.” His thick accent shining through extra hard with his own anger.- it makes you laugh. “I don’t even know what to do at this point. I don’t think I can trust her anymore.” he nods in agreement. “I know sweetheart but I'm here for you, no matter what you decide to do. Okay?” it's your turn to nod. “Okay. Thank you Hugh, really. I don’t know what I would do without you.” You look up at him, giving him a small smile and a quick kiss on his side. “You know what sucks more than possibly losing my best friend for good?” You ask, humor shines in your eyes. “What’s that?”

“Losing my New York tour guide.” He laughs. “You’re laughing now, but it’s serious. She created these crazy itineraries for us to be the most obnoxious tourist. Now I have to rely on my own planning skills, which aren’t great.” Hugh goes quiet for a moment. You search his face for his thoughts and he seems unsure of what he’s about to say. 

“I could..uh. I could go to New York with you. I kinda need to go anyways, been meaning to go.” He says and when you don’t speak right away, he panics. “You don’t have to say yes. I know we’ve been spending a lot of time together and I understand if you want some time for yourself..” You giggle at his overthinking. “Hugh, I would love for you to come to New York with me.” He lets out a breath you didn’t know he was holding. “Okay good. That’s great! I needed to go back a few weeks ago actually so this works out for the both of us.” 

“Why didn’t you go back when you needed to?” His cheeks go red. “Oh my god! You totally stayed because of me didn’t you?”

 “Maybe..” He admits. “I was scheduled to fly back to New York before your album party, but then you texted me. I couldn’t pass that up.” 

“You keep acting like this and you’re gonna make me fall in love with you Hugh Jackman.” A smug smile falls onto his lips. “You better.” 

The few days leading up to you leaving for New York were short. Hugh left for the city the next day, promising he would see you the moment you landed, sealing the promise with a quick kiss. You busied yourself with tour rehearsals and interview prep. It had been a lonely few days. Hugh was gone and you weren’t talking to Ashley, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You and Hugh texted daily but it wasn’t the same as being in his presence, a presence you had come to enjoy having around. You were close to saying ‘fuck it’ and be fully committed to him but a part of you was still hesitant. Too much has happened recently, it feels like you can’t think straight half the time. Your last relationship was only a few months ago, your best friend was trying to steal every man you liked, and you’re at the peak of your career. You needed a mental breather. 

LAX airport was cold and stuffy. People were walking casually towards their destination with a few runners here and there. While you loved traveling, airports made you feel uneasy. There were so many people going to the most random places on the most random days and random times. It was uncomfortable to think about. You sat there in silence, too afraid to wear headphones. You liked to know what was happening around you at all times, a freak peeve. When it was finally time to board the plane, you were already exhausted from it all. Almost seven hours later, you landed at JFK airport in New York City. Once you turn off airplane mode on your phone, you see a few texts from Hugh. He insisted that he could pick you up from the airport and take you to your hotel. Your ‘personal chauffeur” he jokingly called himself. You texted Hugh back as people hurriedly grabbed their belongings and scurried down the thin aisles. 

You: just landed! see you soon hot stuff ;)

He told you beforehand that he made arrangements to pick you up in a private area, away from prying eyes. You weren’t nearly famous enough to know what that means, so you simply followed the instructions he gave you. It was a little confusing at first, having only been in the busy airport once before. With some help from workers, Hugh was finally in your view. He had a big smile on his face with his arms open wide for you. You walked with a little pep in your step, suitcase rolling behind you. When you got close enough, you let the handle go and ran the rest of the short distance to Hughs arms. His embrace was warm and welcoming, a familiar place. 

“Missed you sweet girl.” He mumbles into your hair. You pull back slightly, arms still holding him. “Missed you too.” Your voice is shy, almost forgetting how it felt to have his attention on you. You had missed him, more than you thought you would. Hearing his voice again made life feel real again after the past mundane days you’ve endured. The walk to his car was intimate- his arm sat atop your shoulders as you walked side by side. He insisted on rolling your luggage for you and wouldn’t take no for an answer when you protested. A true gentleman. He opened the passenger door for you, making sure you were in before putting your suitcase in the trunk and hopping into the driver's side. He looked a lot more presentable than you did. He wore a pair of blue jeans and a black shirt that hugged his biceps in a way that almost made you drool. It was simple but he looked delicious. Your sweats and hoodie couldn’t compare. His beard had finally grown in, no longer the prickly stubble that rested there a month ago. It was full and you hoped he would let it grow to that length that made him look even more expensive. 

“The option to stay at my place is still on the table if you want it babe.” He says, resting his hand on your thigh as he begins to pull out of the hidden parking lot. There was something so attractive about a man driving. Hugh’s side profile was godly and him driving really did something to your brain. “That wouldn’t be very friendly of us Hugh.” You rest your hand on top of his. “I think that’s the friendliest thing I could possibly do. Offer you a place to stay while in town instead of staying in a dingy hotel.” He eggs on trying to convince you. He first pitched the idea the night he offered to come to New York with you. You immediately declined, not wanting to invade his space. You wouldn’t know how to handle it, it made things too real. He had been over to your house countless times, but you had never been to his. You thought it best to keep it that way. You weren’t sure you could control yourself around him when you were surrounded by all things him. “Nothing is ever friendly between us Hugh.” He squeezes your thigh. “I have to argue with you there baby. In my humble opinion, we are too friendly.” He glances over to you and gives you a wink. He hasn’t been afraid of letting his intentions known. To let you know that he wants you, not as a friend. You’ve seen just how bad he craved you and it was tempting. He knew he had a dangerous effect on you, one that you worked really hard to control. 

“You’re always so horny.” You mumble. “It’s hard not to be when I have a gorgeous girl like you around all the time.” God he was so good with his words. His voice and his way of speaking. It was no mystery as to why he had people swooning for him left and right- you included. “Whatever.” You open your phone to text Stacy, letting her know you landed and in good hands. It was weird flying solo. You got so accustomed to flying along Ashley or Stacy. You weren’t particularly mad at the change if it meant you got to see Hugh’s face light up just at seeing you again. “Will you at least come over once?” He asks, hopeful. “I’ve seen your house, I’d really like you to see mine. It’s where I live most of the time. It would mean a lot.” The squeeze on your thigh lingers, his grip lasting longer than the previous one. You didn’t know how to explain that you really didn’t want to do that- be in his house. You didn’t think he would understand what you mean when you say ‘it’s too much’. The desperation in his voice, the yearning he felt to have you in his home. You couldn’t say no. “Yea I can do that.” The small smile that rested on his lips grew, his face lighting up. It made your stomach twist up in knots. 

The hotel that Stacy booked for you was grand. The elegance and class in the places you’ve stayed at while traveling has never failed to amaze you. Growing up, your family didn’t have a lot of money. When you went on family trips, the cheapest hotel, usually a motel 6, was your usual nightly accommodations. The places you stayed in now would have little you screaming and running around. The whole ‘entering fame’ process had been a huge culture shock that you were still learning to navigate appropriately. 

“Hm. Not too shabby, my house is better though.” Hugh says as he sits your luggage to the side. He had put a hat and sunglasses on, trying to make it less obvious that it was him- trying to hide that it was him who was with you. The hat, sunglasses, and beard combo was doing a number on your body. It took a lot of strength to keep yourself from dragging him to the bed and riding him until you were satisfied. Though, you’re not sure that you could ever be fully satisfied with Hugh. Not because you were scared he wouldn’t be good in bed but because you knew once he had you, you would need him again and again until you physically couldn’t handle him anymore. You  felt him that one night on the couch, movie night, you knew that man was packing and that it wouldn’t take much for him to bruise your cervix.

 “Hugh, please.” You warn him. He puts his hands up in defense. “Sorry, sorry…Just don’t forget that it’s an option.” “I don’t think you’d let me forget..” You let out a breathy laugh after. Hugh sits down at a small table and watches you as you walk around, exploring the room. You unpack a few things to make it easier on yourself later. “Are you up for exploring today?” He asks as he walks into the bathroom, where you’re placing your toiletries along the vanity counter. “Oo! I’d love to explore. I have one weird request though.” You're still facing the mirror when Hugh comes up behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, sitting a little higher due to his height. “What’s that baby?” He’s watching you through the mirror, as you organize your skin care. “I wanna go to Trinity Church to see Hamilton's grave.” You say nonchalantly. Hugh laughs and questions you. “I need to sing the ‘he’s buried in Trinity Church near you’ line from Hamilton.” Hugh continues laughing. “What!?” He barely gets the words out. It somewhat offends you.  “I thought you’d understand, being a theater nerd and all but I guess not.” You cross your arms and try to break through his hold to walk away. “Mhm. I’m sorry, come back. I wasn’t trying to make fun of you. You’re just full of surprises.” You relax in his hold. 

“Does that mean you’ll take me?” You look at his eyes through the mirror. “Yea i’ll take you.” He smiles. You look at Hugh in the mirror, observing how the two of you look together. He looks really good holding you and not to toot your own horn, but Hugh and yourself made an attractive couple. He looked good on your arm and you looked good on his. “You're so pretty, baby.” He whispers. “Every time I look at you, I’m blown away that you’re hanging around with me.” His arms tighten around you. “Hmm. I think we look good together, don’t you?” You reach your neck up to look at him as best as you can given the angle. He studies your two bodies in the mirror before agreeing. “Yea we do.”

Walking around with Hugh felt freeing. You’ve been trying so hard to keep things private lately that every time you weren’t in the secure confines of your house with him, you felt panicked. It was something that crossed your mind before the two of you left the hotel but he assured you that it wasn’t very likely that someone would notice both of you. You were a little doubtful in his words, opting to dress in a way that protected you from the early fall breeze and from making it too obvious of who you were. Hugh had been right though, you both were able to walk around pretty freely, undisturbed. He brought you to trinity church first and reluctantly filmed a video of you dramatically singing the line from Hamilton. To you it was peak comedy and Hugh was being a big hater. He took you to a few of his favorite places, hidden gems. It was perfect. You wanted to hold his hand, bodies brushing against each other as you walked, but you couldn’t. The night ended by Hugh taking you to get traditional New York pizza. He ordered a large pepperoni and you both walked back to the hotel. The moment your room door was opened, you were pulling your heeled boots off. The walking destroyed your feet but you’d gone beyond your daily step goals- a win is a win. Sitting at the table with Hugh, you both grabbed a slice of pizza. He waited for you to take a bite first, looking for your reaction. When you took a bite, you let out a moan- you weren’t sure if it was because it tasted that good or because of how hungry you were. “That good?” Hugh asks in amusement. “Yes, I was starving.” He chuckles and takes his own big bite. The two of you down the entire pizza at an embarrassingly fast rate. “Did you have fun today?” He asks you. “Yea, I really did. Thank you Hugh.” 

When Hugh left, you scrolled through all of the pictures and videos you had taken today. You snuck a couple of Hugh and you might have stared at them a little too long. You watched the Trinity Church video so you could post it on TikTok. As you uploaded it into the app and were giving it one last watch before hitting post, a sound caught your attention. You grabbed your headphones and connected them to get a better listen. As you were singing, you could hear Hugh quietly laughing in the background. The sound brought a smile to your face, replaying it over and over just to hear it again. You hit the ‘post’ and called it a night. 

The next morning was an early one. You had to be at the photo shoot at five am to get ready, meaning you were out the door at four. Stacy met you down in the lobby and led you to the car she had waiting for you. “How was your first day in New York? You and Ashley have fun?” She asks as she buckles her seatbelt. “Oh, Ashley didn’t come, we aren’t friends anymore. My first day was good though, really fun.” You smile at the memories of the day prior, ignoring the small pain from hearing Ashley’s name. Stacy gives you a questioning look. You sigh before explaining, “She was being weird and it turns out she was flirting with Hugh the other day when they came to rehearsals. She didn’t even have the decency not to do it in the exact same room.” Her expression turns to an understanding one. “Well, good riddance. I knew after the first time that the girl was nothing but trouble. Good for you babe.” She types on her phone for a moment before turning her attention back to you- your staring out the window, taking in the somewhat empty streets that were full of people the night before.

“So, what did you do yesterday that was so fun?” You don’t look at her when you respond. “Hugh took me exploring, showed me the city.” She snorts. “Hugh, huh?” You look at her sheepishly. “Yea. He felt bad that I didn’t have someone to go with me so he offered.” You shrug. It wasn’t that big of a deal. “I told you.” 

“Told me what?” 

“That you wouldn’t be able to stay away from that man.” She shakes her head. You sometimes forgot just how well Stacy knows you after years of her by your side. The car comes to a stop outside of a short building, shorter than the other ones around it anyway. You sat in hair and makeup for a while, talking to the artists as they worked. You always liked making conversation with the people that helped you, it was always interesting hearing everyone's stories. The photo shoot wasn’t anything crazy. It was a well known photographer that had worked with major stars, her most recent model being Zendaya. It was a huge compliment that she wanted to work with you. It wasn’t like other shoots you had done before, this had been way more artsy and free. You were so used to doing things for brands or for your own music, where everything needed to be a certain way. It was nice to work on projects where you didn’t have to think but just be you. 

When the shoot was over, you sat in a small lobby with Stacy as you waited for the car to come pick you up. You opened tiktok to see what people were saying in the comments of your latest post. Most of them were freaking out over the laugh in the background, over analyzing it to find out who it was. There were a few comments that speculated that it might be Hugh and it made you laugh, shocked by the crazy detective skills your fans had. You kept scrolling when you saw a comment that caught your attention.

‘Y/N GET YOUR MAN UNDER CONTROL SDJFJSDF’ 

You clicked on the ‘view replies’ tab under it trying to figure out what they were talking about. Thankfully, other people were just as confused as you were with multiple ‘context?’ comments under it. 

‘look at hughs recent instagram post 😭’

In curiosity, you closed Tiktok and opened instagram. You went to the search bar, clicking on his username from your recent searched section. You click on the most recent picture making it enlarge and you let out an audible gasp. “Are you okay?” Stacy asks. You almost forgot where you were for a second. “Yea i’m fine…funny tiktok comment.” You tried to play it off, hoping she’d buy the excuse. It seems to work as she gives a small nod, looking back down to her phone. You look back down at your own device, in complete and utter shock. You knew he was built, seeing other pictures he had posted and endless edits of his greasy hawaiian rolls from Deadpool and Wolverine. 

This however seemed so much slutier. He was in, what you assumed was his home bathroom, taking shirtless pictures of himself. You could tell it had been recent because his beard and hair were the same length that it’s been for the past week. You felt frozen, not knowing what to do. He looked absolutely scrumptious. Pulling out your airpods from your purse, you put them on to listen to the attached audio. You had no fucking clue how you were supposed to look him in the eyes the next time you saw him. His voice was something special. It had the ability to make your knees weak at the sound. This was no different. It felt like he was teasing you subtly. You quickly screenshot the picture and swipe out of instagram, opening your message app. 

You: I leave you alone for less than 24 hours and you’re over here posting thirst traps for the internet… 

Hugh <3: I just wanted to thank my team. As the caption said…I am grateful. 

You: hmm you say it’s being grateful, I say it’s being a SLUT!! 

You: you look really fucking good though…

Hugh<3: 😂😂😂

Hugh<3: Thank you baby. Do I get to see you today or are you still busy? 

You: I have meetings the rest of the day :( 

Hugh<3: It’s okay sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow? 

You: I have fallon tmrw night but i’ll be free at 8pm if you wanna meet up then? 

Hugh<3: That works for me. Text me when you’re done for the day, okay? Talk to you later baby

The car finally stops signaling that you were at the first meeting of the day. There were endless introductions, hand shaking, and smiling. It was a lot more tiring than it sounded. Stacy was doing most of the work, covering major details for whatever was being discussed- again you mainly sat and listened. There were a few times when you really had to pay attention as key points were being made but nothing would be final until your team and lawyer looked over whatever deals were being discussed. There was a short two hour break of freedom that Stacy and yourself used to grab some food. Then it was right back to work. You were somewhat grateful for Stacy scheduling all of the heavy work stuff on one day because it meant you didn’t have to do this again on the remaining days of your trip. Stacy liked to set it up that way, giving you more time to be free from work, you loved her for it. The two of you had dinner together and went your separate ways after. You got back to your hotel at ten and to say you were worn out was an understatement. Your head was hurting from all the talking and bright fluorescent lights of each office you sat in today. 

You: I’m finally freeeee!! 

After hitting send, you hopped in the shower. The best thing about staying in an expensive hotel was how great the water pressure was. The hot water felt like heaven against your sticky skin, the thick body glitter from the photoshoot finally slipping away. You let your mind wander back to the picture that had been in your mind all day. Running your hands down your body, teasing yourself while imagining that it was Hugh’s wide hands instead. You let your hands disappear in the place that ached the most, working as your mind played the fantasies that ate away at you. You could almost feel Hugh’s mouth whispering against your ear as the feeling of ecstasy washes over your body, the running water muffling the sounds of your pleasure. 

Hugh still hadn’t texted you back when you had gotten out of the shower. It was unusual for him to take so long to respond but given the time- and his age- he was probably asleep. The downside to dating older men was their need to be in bed so early. You giggled to yourself thinking about the thought of Hugh being knocked the fuck out in bed after yawning since the clock hit 7pm. Laying in bed, you whipped out your phone opening twitter. You tweeted a quick post, reminding your fans to watch Jimmy Fallon tomorrow night. You scrolled lazily for a while, feeling the sleep take over you but when you saw one post in particular, you felt wide awake. 

‘Hugh Jackman and ex-wife seen walking around New York together a year after separation.’ 

You had no right to feel the jealousy and anger that sat tight in your chest. His ex-wife was something you were completely aware of but it was a subject neither Hugh or yourself had talked about. You understood that she would always be around, after being married to her longer than you’d even been alive. You laugh in disbelief. It sounded so stupid when you put it like that. The age gap never bothered you until you put it in perspective. You couldn’t help who you liked though. The overthinking hit faster than you could stop it. You wondered why he didn’t tell you that he was seeing her today. His smile in the picture was a little too wide, he looked too happy. He wasn’t even yours to claim, yet you wanted her to know that he had you now, that he wanted you. The vile thoughts that danced around your head were making your temper rise. You set some alarms and tried to get some sleep. Most of the night was tossing and turning, thinking about Hugh’s ex-wife. 

Hugh<3: Good morning sweet girl. I’m sorry for not getting back to you last night. I fell asleep on the couch waiting for you to text me lol 

It was what you saw first when your alarm went off. It was sent a few hours ago since you gave yourself some time to sleep in, given the trouble you had getting to sleep last night. You ultimately decided that you wouldn’t be mad at him for it, you didn’t have a reason to be. If the two of you were official, things would be different, but you weren’t. You were going to try your best to swallow the jealousy and let it be. 

You: good morning baby! I figured that’s what happened lol

Hugh<3: Are you excited for Fallon tonight? 😄

You: yea…only a tinsy bit nervous 

Hugh<3: You’re gonna crush it babe, I know it. I still get to see you after yea? Miss you

You: I miss you too :(

You: do you wanna meet at the hotel after or…?

Hugh<3: I can pick you up and we can go to my place? 

You stared at the message contemplating it. Hugh’s house was already a fear of yours but his house at night seemed a lot more intimate. You felt the need to be that intimate with him though- it was fueled by the pictures from last night, you knew it was. If that hadn't happened, you’d be saying no, making up excuses not to. You needed the validation too much to think straight. 

You: yea we can do that :)

Once you get to the Tonight Show studio, you barely have time to put your things down before you're being guided around. Thankfully, you warmed up your voice before leaving your hotel room just in case you didn’t have time to do it here. The crew had you and your dancers do a quick run through of the song to make sure everything was working before you were sent to your dressing room to get ready. Kat, your stylist, and Amari, your makeup and hair artist, were already in the room ready to get to work. You took the time to catch up with both of them, the three of you falling into a familiar routine. Your nerves started to build up as it got closer to the filming time. About twenty minutes before you were called to stage, Jimmy came back to introduce himself. He was a really sweet guy, super bubbly and humble. It eased your mind a little bit but they shot right back up when your name was called. “Y/n L/n everybody!”. The studio audience erupted in cheers as you walked to Jimmy’s desk. “Welcome to the show, how are you doing tonight?” He asks. “I’m doing amazing, thank you so much for having me.” The cheers finally slow down. “So, I got told that this is your first late night show interview, is that right?” 

“Yes, it is!” 

“I’m honored to be the first.” 

“I’m glad it’s you who popped my late night talk show cherry, Jimmy.” You joke, using your song's title as a pun, which he does his famous laugh at. The interview was going really well, most of the questions being ones you’ve answered countless times before.

“There have been a few rumors going around after a tiktok you posted the other day and I have to ask.” You nod ready for whatever question he’s about to ask. “Is the laugh behind the camera Mr. Hugh Jackman?” Your smile falters for a second before you put it right back on. This was something you weren’t prepared for at all. You let out a laugh. “The fans can keep speculating. A girl never kisses and tells.” It probably wasn’t the best answer- you know it wasn’t the best answer- but it’s all you could come up with in that moment. You just hoped no one noticed the split second your calm facade slipped, that it felt longer than it had actually lasted. 

Hugh was already there when you were free to leave, having texted him in the spare moment you had while getting changed into your performance outfit. Once you were in the car, he didn’t hesitate to ask how it went. “It was good. He uh…he asked about you.” You don’t why you were concerned about how he would respond, but you were. “About me?” He glances at you quickly before focusing on the road again. “Uhh..yeah. I posted the Hamilton video on tiktok and you can hear you laughing in it. I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal but people started to guess it was you. I’m sorry.” You slump down into the seat, waiting for his anger to come but it never does. “Don’t apologize baby. I want people to know I’m with you.” He never fails at knowing what to say, his words always flow out of his mouth effortlessly. “I kinda redirected the question though, not really giving a solid answer. I don’t know, it really threw me off.” He nods. “They like to do that, be sneaky.” 

It took a little longer than expected to get to his place, New York traffic moving at a snail's pace. When you do finally arrive, he’s pulling into an underground parking garage that sits under a skyscraper that you can’t see the top of. The elevator ride up was easily the longest one you’d ever been on, his penthouse being on the 56th floor. He opens the door and turns on the light switch that is conveniently placed in the entrance. “Welcome to my home. Mi casa es su casa.” He jokes and you let out a short snort at the stupid joke. “Would you like the official Hugh Jackman house tour?” Excitement was radiating off of him and you thought it was cute that he was this worked up about you being here, in his space. “I’d love one.” He offers his hand and you take it. Your once icy hand being warmed up instantly from his large, warm one. 

As he dragged you to the living room, you started to feel that uneasiness again, like you shouldn’t be here. It kept nagging at you in the back of your head but you refused to pick at it. This was making Hugh happy, you weren’t going to ruin that because of whatever issues you were hiding. After showing you the living room, he pulls you into a large kitchen. A vase full of bright pink flowers, balloons, and a cookie cake that reads ‘congrats’ sits on the counter. You let go of his hand and walk over to the island while he stays put. You run your fingertips over the soft petals of the flowers, peonies- your favorite. “Do you like them? I uh..wasn’t sure what your flower preference was, so I chose peonies because of your song.” 

The gesture makes you emotional. You’d never had a man go out of his way for you like this. He hadn’t known what flowers you liked but he remembered your song title to fill in the blank. A song where you had one line that says: ‘you got me roses when you know I like peonies’. A song from your debut album. “I love them. I love this.” You gesture to the display. You walk back over to where he stands and reach up to grab his face, bringing it down to give him a quick peck on his lips. “This means a lot to me, thank you Hugh.” The previous perturbation vanishing from your head, that cherished easiness you felt with Hugh slips back in. You were meant to be here. 

“Shall we finish the tour?” You ask, spirits high. “Of course my lady, right this way.” He leads you room to room, giving you a mini explanation for each one. It was an average home, well average for a millionaire. It was obvious that a single, older man lived here but not in a bad way, there just wasn’t a woman's touch on the place. “This is bathroom number two, the one I use most frequently.” Something about the room seemed familiar as you looked around. There were a few art pieces on the marbled wall, a large mirror across from them. You were looking at the suspiciously large mirror when it clicked. 

“OH MY GOD!! This is the thirst trap bathroom! I can’t believe I have the pleasure of being in such a sacred place.” You move around the space in a theatrical way, pretending you were in a place of true importance. 

“Oh god…shut up.” He groans in embarrassment. “Could you reenact the moment? It would really help me get the full feel of the room.” You’re still teasing him but that question came back to slap you right across the face. You see a smirk on Hugh's face and he’s reaching his hands down and starts lifting his shirt off- but not in the practical way but in the super sexy crossed arms way. “WAIT! I was just kidding.” You practically scream at him, not mentally prepared to see Hugh shirtless in person. He stops and shrugs, turning around to leave the room. Before you can stop yourself, the horny part of your brain is speaking. “Wait no, keep going.” He slowly turns around with that stupid sexy smile of his and the raised eyebrow thing he does. The atmosphere of the small room changed instantly. He’s pulling at his shirt again, painfully slow in your opinion. As he inches it up, you analyze each slither of skin that’s freed. There is a patch of hair below his belly button leading down into his pants. A strong v-line and a thick vein practically popping out of his skin, begging to be traced with your tongue. The shirt goes higher and higher, revealing more of his chest. Each ab pops out and it’s like a gift from God right in front of your eyes. He pulls the shirt over his head, biceps flexing slightly, and drops the shirt onto the floor. You're frozen in place, not believing that this is real. 

You never have been one to believe in karma but you must have been a saint in your past life to deserve this. You see his mouth move but don’t hear a word he says. All you see is the hairy chest you’d been thirsting over, moving closer until it’s right in front of you. He grabs your cheeks between one hand and faces your eyes up towards his own. “Are you okay y/n?” He has a worry behind his eyes. 

“You’re like really hot. It’s actually frustrating how hot you are.” His grip on your face loosens as you speak. “You asked to see, I was only fulfilling your wishes.” You felt dizzy. He hadn’t even touched you and the way your whole face sits in his one hand and the way his abs are begging to be licked, had you flustered. You were drunk on Hugh. “You're wandering again…maybe I should put my shirt back on.” He goes to reach for it but you reach out, lightly grabbing his arm to stop him. “Not yet.” It’s mumbled and quiet, aimed more towards yourself than it was to him. 

Hugh stands back up, his height towering over you. You couldn’t decide if he had always been so tall. Towering over you in a way that made your heart beat faster. Your mind was battling itself: the arousal wanting nothing more than for Hugh to do whatever he wanted with you while the more reasonable side knew that there were too many things that needed to be talked about before crossing this line. The line had been crossed many times before with the kisses, touches, hand holding- the night on the couch… Sex was different. You weren’t fond of casual sex, it was too intimate an act to categorize as such. Whatever was happening between Hugh and yourself was far from casual though and you trusted him not to hurt you.

“You’re kinda scaring me here, pretty girl. Are you okay?” You couldn’t tell him that seeing his chest had sent you into a horny dazed confusion. You looked up at him, into his worried eyes. He was always so concerned about your well being and he cared so much about everything going on in your life. God, you prayed that this wouldn’t come back to bite you in the ass.

“Kiss me please.” Your voice is shaky, unstable. “Are you sure baby?” His hands rest on your shoulders, eyes searching yours for any doubt. 

“Please Hugh. I need you to kiss me.” His once troubled eyes turned dark as he bent down, kissing you like he never had before. The kiss was messy, full of hunger. His hands trailed down your sides until they cupped under the base of your ass. He effortlessly picks you up to sit you on the bathroom counter, lips never breaking contact. You could feel his tongue prodding at the entrance of your mouth as it asked for permission to enter. Granting access, your lips open, a throaty moan draws out as you feel his tongue swipe against yours. He pulls back for a moment. “Can I take this off? Is that okay?” He asks, referring to your shirt. His usual thick australian accent was soft in his breathy voice. You nod shyly and he doesn’t hesitate to reach down. You put your arms up to aid him as he gently pulls the shirt up and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Fuck baby…so fucking pretty.” His hands cup your bra covered breast, thumbs softly trailing over your stiff nipples causing you to drop your head back with a moan of pleasure. “We never finished the tour, sweet girl.” His hands are still fondling you and you lift your head back up to look at him. “What?” 

“There’s one more room I didn't get to show you.” His hands finally drop from your chest and he’s grabbing your hand, leading you towards whatever room it was that you hadn’t seen. He opens the door and the air surrounding you smells like Hugh. It was almost enough to make you pass out, head already light and fuzzy. 

You don’t have time to look around, Hugh immediately turning you to face him, attacking your mouth once again. His hands are reaching for the button of your jeans, pulling them down slowly once he’s got them open. Hugh’s lips escape yours and trail down your neck, your chest, the sides and your body, and finally your stomach as he slowly lowers himself to sit on his knees. He lifted each of your feet, helping you out of each pant leg. At each lift of your leg, he also pulls each sock off, kissing your calves as he does so. You're left in nothing but a black bra and thong. “Mhm. Can I touch you baby?” He asks looking up at you. You nod, the position he was in, all too arousing. He practically growls at your answer and starts leaving messy kisses on your thighs, his hands gripping the back of them. His lips trail up higher, ghosting over where you needed him the most. You could feel his breath through the thin cotton of your panties. Your own breath hitches as he licks a long teasing path between your two folds, the cotton dipping into them from the weight of his tongue. He looks up at you through his lashes, asking for permission. You mouth a small ‘please’ the only word that seems to be in your vocabulary at the moment. 

His thick fingers slip between the fabric and the skin on your hip on either side of your body, pulling the soaked thong down your legs. Before he continues, he’s standing up and guiding you to the bed. “Get up there and spread that pretty pussy for me baby. Wanna see it.” You waste no time doing what he asks, climbing up the unusually tall bed and laying on your back. You don’t open your legs right away, shyness creeping in. You were almost fully exposed to Hugh, the only thing still covered being your boobs, while he was almost fully covered, only his shirt being off. “Don’t go all shy on me now baby.” He says, guiding your legs open, pussy on full display. “Fuck..look at you sweet girl, all wet for me.” His thumbs pull back each fold, exposing the pink that was partially hidden. He leans town and licks from your entrance to your clit. “Mhmm fuck.” You moan out at the feeling. His tongue felt hot against your warm center, beard tickling your skin as he moved. The sound encourages him to continue. He dives down again, tongue lapping around your needy clit. The constant pressure causes your body to jerk voluntarily. Hugh brings both of his hands to hold you down at your legs, tongue still abusing the small bud. Loud moans escape your mouth as his tongue trails down to your entrance sliding in. “Oh fuck me.” You moan out. “Your pussy taste so fucking good.” He mutters against your skin. His right hand moves from its position on your hip, his middle finger sliding down to your opening. He slowly slides it in, the small stretch feels too good. He starts moving it, hitting the spongy bundle of nerves over and over again. “Fuck baby, i’m gonna cum.” You warn him. His head dips back down, tongue returning to your clit and one suck is all it takes for you to come around his finger. You let out a string of moans and curses, Hugh never letting up until your climax is over. He does one more lap around your pussy with his tongue, cleaning everything up before moving up the bed next to you. 

“Been wanting to do that forever baby. Knew you’d have a perfect little pussy.” His words make you cover your face with your hands in embarrassment. Even with your own orgasm washing the need out of your body, you were still turned on. The sight of your slick in Hugh’s beard and the very noticeable tent in Hugh’s jeans made it worse. You sit up and go to move. “Where are you going?” Hugh asks, sitting up on his forearms to look at you. You don't respond, instead you reach for the button of his jeans. “You don’t have to do that baby.” He assures you. “I want to.” It was the first coherent sentence you’ve been able to muster and it makes Hugh fall back into the bed. You pull his jeans and boxers off in one go, too impatient to wait. His cock springs free, red and angry. It was long, thin, and veiny- exactly as you imagined it being. It made your mouth water. He had a thick patch of pubic hair and it turned you on even more, you were such a whore for hairy men. 

You sat yourself between each of his thighs, running your hands up and down them. He’s watching you as you take your right hand, wrapping it around the base of him. He sucks in a breath. You're looking him in the eyes as you lean your head down, letting your tongue swirl in slow circles around his tip. “Fuck…” You take the tip slowly into your mouth, sucking on it while your tongue still circles. Your left hand replaces the right on his dick, right hand moving down to cup his balls. “Shit..” He hisses out. “Haven’t done this in a while baby, not gonna last long at all.” He confesses but men coming fast had always been something that excited you, so you got to work. Your head dipped lower, taking more of him in your mouth while hollowing your cheeks, creating a dangerous suction on him. Your pace was steady as he moaned. “Yea baby, just like that…mmm fuck.” He was a talker and you loved it. You took him out of your mouth, moving down to his balls instead. You sucked on them as your hands worked his shaft. He was breathing rapidly. “I’m gonna cum baby….ohh fuck baby don’t stop.” You immediately moved your mouth back to his tip, sucking every drop of cum from him, not letting any go to waste. You can feel his thighs clenching next to yours. When you're confident that he was done spewing, you swallow it down happily and smile up at him. 

“You’re a dream, you know that? So fucking perfect for me.” He sighs in content as you crawl up to lay on his chest. “You really believe that?” You ask. “I really believe it, y/n. Haven’t felt this way in a long time..” You didn’t want to ask him what that meant, he would tell you eventually. “You wanna stay here tonight?” You look around, seeing the time on the digital alarm clock he had on a bedside table. It read 11:30pm. “Yea, if that’s okay.” You didn’t want to inconvenience him, even if he’s the one who asked. “More than okay sweet girl.” 

The two of you took a quick shower together, the main goal was to get clean so you could hit the hay. Hugh strayed from that a little bit at the sight of your boobs, which he hadn’t seen fully during the fun you had earlier. He gave them small kisses, worshiping them as you washed your hair. He gave you a shirt to sleep in and you opted to go commando, not wanting to put your dirty underwear back on- Hugh didn’t complain about this. His own pajamas being his boxers and nothing else. The two of you laid in Hugh’s bed, you cuddled on his side running your fingers through the hair on his chest. A silence fell over the room, sleep creeping its way in.

thank you for reading!

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[sp0o0kylights]

Part One / Part Two / Part Three (You Are Here)

Complete Thing on A03

Sure enough, Jason Carver had brought a priest. 

The idiot himself stood next to the guy, smugly grinning like a hunter posing with his prized buck, a small crowd already gathering. 

Opposing them was Michael Wheeler, hands planted on Hellfire’s table and back up like a pissed off cat’s, mouth moving faster than Eddie thought possible.

He couldn’t hear what Wheeler was saying. 

Frankly did not want to know what Wheeler was saying, and could only do his damndest to intervene before Mike tanked the situation entirely. 

Gareth and Jeff flanked him, both tense as hell. Neither had backed down though, standing tall and holding ground even as Jason pulled more and more people into his little spectacle. 

Lucas and Grant on the other hand, were standing off to the side.

They weren’t cowering exactly, but both were definitely wincing as Gareth opened his mouth to add his own two cents. 

Given the scowl on the priest, it was probably something nasty, 

‘Fuck.’ Eddie thought, teeth clenched, as Jason drew out his arms, making an even bigger production for his little audience. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’ 

The worst thing of all? 

Dustin managed to reach the group before anyone else did. 

Wheeler and Emerson might have low charisma, but Dustin had a particular combination of snark and a know-it-all attitude that really pissed off authority figures. 

(And Eddie would know, given he was the reigning champion of pissing off authority figures.) 

He did, however, slide in right in time to hear the priest respond. 

“I don’t care for your tone, young man. Jason here has some concerns over your club and I have to agree, what I see is quite,” The guy paused, jowls jiggling as he looked over their table, clearly eyeing Hellfire’s logo. “alarming.” 

 At least wasn’t an actual sermon.

Not yet, anyway. 

Eddie came up right inbetween Mike and Dustin, intending to make himself out to be the new target for all to aim at.  

There was an art to making yourself the sole owner of everything evil in this world, and Eddie had learned it all, trial by fire style.  

“Carver is full of--” Mike snarled, and thankfully was cut off—not by Eddie, or the hand he’d just clamped onto Mike’s shoulder—but by Harrington. 

Who sauntered right up as if he was joining everyone for dinner, and not walking into a circus act.

“Hello Father.” Harrington said, voice warm and welcoming.  “Would you like some of our cookies? We have a sample platter.” 

“Oh--Steve!” The priest blinked, actually blinked, that he was startled to see Hawkins’ golden boy appear next to him. “I’m sorry but no. I’m ah, here for other reasons.”

He paused so long it was nearly comedic before tentatively asking; “ Are you with this table?”

Like the guy couldn’t see the same Hellfire logo plastered across Steve’s ridiculous jock chest. 

Eddie opened his mouth to give a resounding no, Hellfire shirt or not--when Mike of all people put an elbow into his side. 

As if Eddie was the one who needed to be silenced.  

“I am.” Steve put an arm down on Dustin’s shoulder, squeezing it in a way that looked like fond encouragement (but what Eddie was pretty sure was actually a warning in the same way the hand on Mike’s shoulder was.) “I came to help out my friends and fundraise.”

Then he beamed, face lighting up with the full Harrington charm, giga watt smile and all. 

Now the priest just looked awkward. 

“You’ve apparently been fundraising for what I have been told is a…Satanist Club?” 

It was hilariously delicate, how the priest said it. Like now that a respectable member of Hawkins was here, he had to be more careful about what words he used. 

Eddie would have interrupted then.  Retake the reins and do what he did best in terms of making everyone forget about everything but him--except Carver was rounding on Harrington, and well.

He was always a fan of the rich eating each other. 

“You cannot seriously be with these--these,” Jason’s eyes darted to between him and the priest, before physically reigning himself in. “hooligans, Harrington!” 

“I’m sorry.” Harrington said, and whatever Jason had been expecting to get hit with, it wasn’t “good ol’ boy” southern charm. 

He blinked, taking on the air of a kicked puppy who couldn’t understand why someone would be so mean as he glanced around the crowd.  “I think I'm a little lost here.” 

Jason clearly wasn’t prepared for that either. 

“What?” 

“This table is for a storytelling and math game.” Steve spoke slowly, in the same way one explained things to a toddler. “You have to roll dice and add the numbers up to do anything."

“It’s not a game, Steve.” Jason spat back. “It’s an evil trick made to tempt the susceptible minds of children to the dark arts!” 

Personally, Eddie was amazed Carver even knew the word susceptible let alone be able to properly use it in a sentence. 

(He tried to open his mouth to say so, and once again got elbowed, this time by Gareth. 

The look he gave his younger friend could have melted steel beams.)

“That’s what this is about?” Harrington slid his arm off Dustin's shoulders, leaning back to look at the priest and the people around them in a show of blatant disbelief. “You think the nerd club is related to satanism?” 

It was Eddie's own tactic--arguing that D&D was “using academic skills” and “making math fun!" not that Hellfire had ever been successful using it.

Of course, they weren’t Hawkins golden boy either. 

Jason sputtered. 

“It has monsters and--demons in it! It makes children do spells and sign over their souls!” He flung a hand out, for the first time acknowledging Eddie by pointing at his shirt. “Just look at that! It’s awful!”  

"Hey." Eddie said, hand going over his very well drawn dragon.

“I once had to stop an argument about how much weight a wooden bridge could hold.” Steve countered, hands moving to his hips. “I only got them to stop by agreeing to take the kids to a library so they could look it up.” 

He squinted, in Carver's direction, deadpanning; "I take it you think the library is evil now too?"

“The name of the club is called Hellfire!” Jason shrieked, sounding more like an angry teakettle than anything dangerous. 

“Look I get that it sounds scary,” Steve said, the tiniest hint of pity entering his voice, “but they’re trying to make math problems and English essays sound cool. It’s the same reason Father John here calls our annual haunted house Hell House, isn’t it? So people go in it to begin with?” 

Harrington turned to look expectantly at the priest, and Eddie had to admit it was an excellent way to both pander to the guy and sound like Jason was making a big deal out of nothing. 

Perhaps, he’d stay quiet after all. 

(Even if it went against Eddie’s entire being to do so.)

“Well, yes, but--” Father John had clearly picked up on the fact he was losing this particular argument, but plowed forward regardless. “Those activities are supervised by the church…” 

“This is evil Harrington, and you should know better to promote it.” Carver tacked on, like this was a two bit comedy sketch. 

“When I played it we just saved some poor town from a bad guy who set it on fire.” Steve rolled his eyes. 

Then he leaned in, converting his voice into a stage whisper that somehow projected it, giving the impression that everyone around them was listening in on a secret. 

“The doctor said it was a really good way for Dustin and Erica to process the mall fire. He’s a specialist--my mother managed to convince him to fly down to help all the kids who got hurt.” 

Eddie was 100% sure that was total bullshit, but the mere mention of Harrington's mother had seemed to have an effect on the people around them.

 Like Steve had invoked the name of an old but beloved God, not always benevolent but definitely memorable. 

“She’s always been a champion of helping when you can.” Steve spoke to the priest, like they were having a conversation between just the two of them. “Encouraging people to volunteer and helping fundraise.”

“She has been." Father John said, in the kind of instant way one does when they don’t want to offend a very large donor.  "Tell your mom I look forward to her coming back from her--ah, trip.”

 With an awkward glance to the table, he added; “...I suppose I don’t see how math comes into play?” 

“Oh it’s right from the start. Hey Jeff, come here, show Father John how you have to do a bunch of calculations and stuff to make a character.” 

“Ah--right.” Jeff sprung to life, moving around the table to Steve.

“We uh, we start with this character sheet…” 

“Eddie Munson runs the club.” Jason interrupted, before Steve could get Jeff to going.

“He’s right there! Does he look like this whole thing is just an innocent board game?” 

This was a last ditch effort, and it was clear by the chattering that had started circling amongst their audience that everyone knew it. 

Unfortunately, it was a good one.

This was the downside to making yourself a target. Once a bad guy, always a bad guy--particularly in the eyes of the PTA. 

“Munson?” Harrington dismissed with a scoff. “He’s harmless.” 

Which was news to most of their audience given the amount of attention Eddie suddenly had on him, but it was fine. 

He was used to the disapproving stares and glares, and gave his best award winning smile in response. 

Jason looked at Harrington like he’d lost his mind. 

“He has skulls on his fingers for fucks sake!” 

“Jason.” Steve admonished, in a perfect mimic of an upset southern mother. “Language.” 

Carver's jaw dropped, face purpling in rage.

Steve ignored him, turning back to the Priest. “I don’t know what's gotten into him but I’m sorry Jason’s wasted your time, Father.” 

“Munson is a drug dealer!” And ah, here came the Hail Mary move, Carver's one and only trump card.

“We all know he’s a drug dealer, and he’s using this--this game, to give drugs to kids!”

“Really?” Steve turned. “Lucas, what happens if I ever catch you smoking weed?” 

Lucas answered instantly. “You’re going to make us run laps at five in the morning.” 

“For a month.” Dustin added, with an exaggerated shudder. 

It would have been too much--except his disgusted face sold it. 

“Eddie’s just loud and wants to be a rockstar.” Harrington said, like this he was harmless.

No one on Steve's side of things had ever thought of Eddie as harmless.

 “I’ve babysat these kids for years and Eddie was a huge help in making sure no one in high school messed with them.” He continued, like they were some sort of team or friends even.

(Like Eddie hadn't been at Harrington's throat all day, pissy and defensive.)

“We have a real bullying problem right now. Funny enough,” Steve’s nailed Jason with a look, “I keep hearing that it’s coming from the basketball team.” 

“What are you implying?” Jason asked darkly. 

“Just that it’s funny how nobody got caught fighting when I was team captain.” Steve returned. 

God the man was such a bitch. Eddie kind of wanted to kiss him a little. 

Okay, more than a little.

“I get you have some kind of beef with Munson, but let’s not drag a bunch of people into it. Especially not Father John.” Harrington was playing up to the mothers around him now, dismissing Carver entirely as he did so. “He’s a busy guy.”

“Very.” Said Father nodded solemnly. “I do not appreciate being pulled into a high school squabble.” 

Jason’s mouth swam through shapes, words stuttering out of it. “This isn’t, thats not--”

“We can talk about this after church on Sunday.” Father John interrupted, the finishing blow to Carver's little show.

“You came all this way, at least have a cookie on us.” Steve said with an appeasing tone, reaching an arm back behind him.

Quick on the uptake, a cookie appeared in his hands. 

He offered it out to the priest, who took it happily.

"Okay, who wants cake!?” He called, in a clear and obvious dismissal of Jason. 

Who stood there, like he couldn’t believe what just happened. 

His eyes slid to Eddie's, fists clenched tightly at his side, hatred pouring off him so strongly one could almost taste it.

Eddie winked at him.

(Unknown to him at the time, Jason had also looked at Steve--and Steve would wink too.)

xXx

Steve Harrington, who Eddie had been an absolute ass all day too, had looked Jason Carver, a Priest and half of Hawkins in the eye and announced that he, Eddie Munson, was a good person at heart.

It made Eddie want to vomit a little when he thought about it too hard.

“I know this is horrible timing,” Robin said, sidling up as the crowd finally dispersed, “but I really, really need to talk to you.” 

Eddie turned, head full of far too many thoughts and ready to tell her such, when he caught sight of Buckley's face. 

Was reminded, by the sheer nervous, ‘horse about to bolt’ vibe, that he owed it to Robin as a fellow queer not to be a dick about her accidental outing.

Even if all he wanted was to preen in the wake of Carver’s defeat. 

‘See Mothers of Hawkins? Your own golden boy just gave me his stamp of approval!’ 

A mental image that immediately changed to Steve Harrington’s name stamped on his ass and dammit he had to get ahold of his thoughts before he fell down rabbit holes like this--!

“Back there, at the stairs,” Robin started, voice dropping low, and Eddie didn’t miss the way her eyes kept seeking out Steve, like he was some kind of safety net--which he probably was. “What um--what did you hear?” 

It took a lot of guts to come talk to him, knowing what he'd overheard--particularly given they'd just fended off the church.

He'd never exactly underestimated Robin Buckley, but then, he'd never expected this level of badassery from her either.

“Eddie?” Robin prodded again, chewing hard on her bottom lip.

“Sorry, distracted.” Eddie waved a hand behind himself. “Not everyday the King decides to defend your honor to a priest.” 

With a little bow, he offered his elbow out to her, a clear signal to take it and let him escort them away from unwanted ears.

In a show of bravery, Robin took his elbow and let him lead, even as she frowned up at him, looking like she was about to say something.

Likely it was in defense of Harrington, but Eddie had been interrupted enough for one day. 

“You and His Highness over there really should be more aware of your surroundings." He started, voice low. "Lucky for you, you’re among friends. You and Dorothy both.” 

He reached a foot out, tapping Robin’s own. 

Right on top of a doodled pair of tits. 

Robin let go of his elbow and glanced down, before flinging her head right back up, panicked.

"I--"

“If you’d like I can pretend I never heard a thing.” Eddie interrupted, dropping his voice into the gentler tone he reserved for delicate conversations.

People were always surprised by the lengths he went to make sure someone was comfortable--but then, people also forgot how often Eddie heard things he shouldn’t. 

People didn't take drugs just for fun, after all.

“Or I can offer a friend of a friend discount on my wares,” He put a finger to his lips, miming smoking with one hand while he opened his vest with the other to flash the little pink triangle pin that sat inside, announcing his own sexualities status.

“and we can, say, discuss the differences between radical and social feminism while admiring the fine forms of Susan Sarandon and Peter Hinwood?”

The smile he gets is two parts relief, one part genuine delight and Eddie grinned right back at her, flicking his vest closed.

“I did not take you for a Peter Hinwood type.” Robin said it hesitantly, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Thought you’d find Tim Curry’s…acting skills, more to your taste.”

“In the case of Rocky Horror? I am Tim Curry.” He announced, loud and proud (well for this kind of conversation at least.) 

He was rewarded by the tension finally melting out of Robin’s shoulders. 

(This, Eddie reflected, is what he should have been doing this entire time, instead of getting tied up in knots over Harrington and turning into some kind of non-conformist tyrant.) 

“Do you actually know the differences between social and radical feminism?” Robin challenged, braver now, and Eddie knew then and there he’d been successful in assuring her her secret was safe.

That she was safe, with him.

“Guess you’ll have to find out.” Eddie said, giving a playful nudge to her shoulder. 

Baths in the laugh he gets for it, and for the first time today feels like he’s finally on firmer ground.

They chatted for a moment longer, making a loop on the very outskirts of the gym, voices hushed when it came to things that small town ears shouldn’t overhear--but of course, Robin couldn’t just leave things at that.

“Hey Eddie?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can you do me one more favor?”

“Anything for you, my favorite feminist.” 

For the first time since this conversation started, Robin managed to sound firm. 

“Stop referring to Steve as a King.” 

She rushed ahead, anticipating being cut off, and thus Eddie is hit with a wave of words, none of which he’d ever thought he’d hear in relation to thee Steven Harrington. 

“He’s working really hard to get away from it, the whole King thing and how he used to be. I don’t know what all he did to like--you guys,” She flapped her hand in the general direction of Hellfire, “and I know he wasn’t an innocent bystander, but I kinda realized over the summer that I blamed him for a lot of things that were in my own head, and that he wasn’t--he was never as bad as I thought he was and he's still trying to make it up to me anyway.”

Robin trailed off, seeming to try and piece out what she wanted to say next without giving away the whole farm. “It’s not some act, Eddie. Steve’s really trying to change.” 

Which yeah.

Eddie could see that, now. 

Maybe not before but…

“Okay.” He said, after a long, long moment. “No more King Steve. Got it.”

The smile he got for that also felt like a victory, even if it was wrenched out of him.

xXx

Two hours and a dispersed crowd later, Eddie found himself once again stuck in his own head. 

The facts were thus:

Steve Harrington was a good dude. 

He used his good dude-ness to save Hellfire from a literal priest, right smack in front of God and Principal Hairy Ass both

All of Hellfire actually liked him 

According to Robin Buckley, Steve was entirely fine with “all us triangles” quote/unquote 

And;

Eddie was jealous.

He was self aware enough to admit it, alongside the fact that Jason Carver aside, maybe Eddie had been the villain today instead of Steve. 

Which meant he not only owed Harrington an apology, but he owed it to both of them to work out his own stupid shit before it blew up in his face and cost him all his friends.

(He’d have called this move “pulling a Harrington” before today but now that feels mean, which Eddie supposes signals he’s grown as a person or some shit.) 

So now he sits on Steve’s beemer, knowing the move will likely antagonize the ex-jock but equally knowing he’s planning on jumping off the car the second the guy comes near, and that the move itself will get Harrington to listen to him the second he’s done supervising whatever Hellfire’s youngest is doing.

(Eating leftover cookies like the older members are as they finish packing up, Eddie assumes.) 

Ducking out like he did had allowed him some much needed time to think things though. Figure out what he was going to say--without an audience present.

He’d apologize publicly if he had to. But being vulnerable is hard, and given the way his friends had been acting, Steve isn’t the only person he owes an apology to. 

For now, he’ll begin here, without an audience. 

Eddie doesn’t get to plan for long--only gets to rehearse a few lines of his little spiel when a pointed cough jerks him back to reality. 

There stands Steve Harrington, a fat wad of cash in one hand and a box in the other.

Like a man sent to the gallows, Eddie leapt off the beemer, squaring his shoulders. 

He could do this.

 Apologize-- and mean it. 

Not that Steve gave him the chance to. 

“The guys told me to give this to you.” He said, holding out the cash. Then he took a breath, like he was preparing to go to war, and added; 

“I know you weren’t happy with me being here, and you probably don’t want this, but Dustin said you really liked cinnamon brownies so I made you some.” 

The box was now held out alongside the cash, proof that Steve had tried to start this whole thing off on the right foot. 

Eddie stared at it, then at Steve. 

Felt the guilt chew on his gut just that much harder.

“I have been shitty to you all day. Why are you giving me this?” 

Steve shrugged. 

“To be fair I didn’t exactly make it easy on you either. You said jump and I said ‘watch this’.” Steve laughed, a small, almost self depicting sound. “Dustin’s been on my ass all day about it.” 

Of course he had. 

“Mine too.” Eddie admitted. “It's his tone, I swear."

“Yes!” 

Carefully, Eddie reached out, accepted the box and the cash. 

“Thanks by the way. For the stuff you said about me earlier.” 

Steve grimaced, cheeks tinting a (lickable) red. “Yeah sorry, I--”

“No not--not that stuff.’ Eddie said, mentally hauling his thoughts back in line, fiddling with the cash. “The stuff about being a good person. No one’s uh. Said that. About me.”

Not except for Wayne, but Harrington wouldn’t know nor care about Eddie’s uncle. 

Steve shrugged. “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” 

He’d argue that, except something was off. 

It took Eddie a moment to place it--that the wad Steve handed over was way too big for the little bake sale they’d just attended. 

He tucked the box under his arm, quickly counting the stack with a smoothness only drug dealers and bank tellers could manage.

“It’s all there, I promise.” Steve told him simply, but without judgment. He sounded like he expected this and that didn’t sit right with Eddie either. 

Not that he could do anything about it because he’d just counted up didn’t make any sense. 

Not trusting himself, Eddie stacked it back together, before counting it all again. He was faster this time, trying to figure out among all the ones, fives and tens how the hell they had managed to sell that many cookies. 

Particularly considering the most expensive thing was one of the cakes and he’d watched Steve sell it for fifteen dollars. 

So why were there three twenties sitting in the stack? 

“Either you up charged the absolute shit out of someone’s mom, in which case I congratulate you, you sneaky devil,” Eddie said slowly, “Or you put extra cash in here.” 

Steve blushed properly this time. 

Eddie zeroed in on his face, watching as Steve rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, trying to pull his charming mask into place.

He didn't quite manage it.

Hadn’t even been wearing it before now, Eddie realized suddenly.

This entire conversation Steve had a realness to him that Eddie had never really seen. 

Had maybe not wanted to see, from someone like Harrington. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” Steve protested, like a kid who’d been caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “That’s what we charged.” 

“You are a terrible liar.” Eddie accused, hand trembling. “We can’t take this, man. This is a almost two hundred dollars.” 

Way more than what they’d need for Gen Con. It was enough to get them two fuckin’ hotel rooms! 

“If It helps any, I didn’t do it for you.” Steve’s blush slid into something more genuine, as he nodded his head to where Hellfire was spilling out of the gym doors, laughing and shoving one another. 

“They deserve to have a good trip.” He added, eyes fond as he watched Dustin and Mike squabble over how to fold Hellfire's banner.

It made his whole face soften, the harsh features of his jaw turning into something that was so adorable Eddie wanted to bite through it. 

“Do you want to come?” Someone said, and it took both Steve’s startled look and a second long pause for Eddie to realize that someone was him.

Stupid, stupid, stupid-! 

“To the convention?” Steve asked, looking doubtful. 

Pity that Eddie was already nodding, like his brain and his body were at a total disconnect.

Maybe aliens had finally taken him over. Or a demon. 

(Demonic possession could frankly explain a lot about today, Carver’s weird little power play aside.)

“Dude you don’t even like me.” Steve said. “Why would you want me to come along?” 

“I dunno Harrington. All of Hellfire seemed to like you, and not just my freshman.” Eddie countered easily, gliding right over the fact that he himself did like Steve.

Way more than he should, and that right there was half of Eddie’s problem. 

“They have pretty good taste in things.” He waived a hand, as if this wasn’t a complete 180 from how he’d acted all day. “I could understand if you didn’t want to slum it with us nerds though.”

Steve rolled his eyes. 

“I’ve been slumming it all day with you nerds, if you haven’t noticed.” 

“Yeah? What’s your verdict on us?” 

“Not as bad as you could be.” 

Eddie tilted his head back and laughed. “High praise from the King!”

He felt bad immediately after, and made himself promise to be more mindful about Robin’s ask--but  thankfully Harrington didn’t take it hard. 

(Habits, Eddie knew, were hard to change.

Took a lot of careful attention to change. 

He had a long road ahead of him, and he hoped this little olive branch put him a few miles down it.) 

Steve awarded him a small smile. “I haven’t been the King for a long while, man. But if you guys have an opening, I think I wouldn’t mind being a knight or whatever.” 

“Ste-eeeve Harrington, defender of the realm.” Eddie nodded once, decisively. “I can see it.”

He tucked away the cash, and thus missed how Steve looked weirdly contemplative at that. 

Raised his head and stuck out a hand. 

Tentatively, Steve took it. 

“Welcome to the club, Harrington. We meet on Fridays. Bring snacks.” 

“Cookies okay?”

“Going by Gareth’s judgment, they’re more than okay.”

Eddie smiled and Steve smiled back, and God how he hated how fucking cute Harrington’s face was. 

Particularly since he now got to think of the guy as “Steve” without feeling weird about it. 

As in his possible, potential, friend Steve.

What a fucking trip that was. 

“Oh, and Steve?” He called, the thought hitting him as Steve turned to welcome the group making their way to the beemer.

Steve had let his hand fall, turning to open the front door of the Beemer with a cocked eyebrow.

Eddie flicked a finger out, lightly tapping the Hellfire logo. “Tell Lucas I’ll get him another shirt. That one’s all yours, big boy.” 

If there was a pink hue to Harrington’s cheeks, he was blaming sunburn. 

(Two months, six days, and one meddlesome asshole named Henderson later, and Eddie would find out that Steve had in fact, been blushing.

He’d be furious at Dustin’s involvement, if it hadn’t directly led to Eddie finding out Steve’s blush did in fact go down his chest.

And his happy trail.

And his--

Well.

Men do not kiss and tell. 

Not to fucking freshmen, anyway.) 

THERE IS A GEN CON, "THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED BECAUSE DUSTIN IS A MEDDLESOME SHIT" BONUS BUT it's on A03 cause it was long enough to be its own post and I wasn't gonna add it to this one. You can read it here LINK

[wakeupthemembersofbylernation]

It is not even that Mlvns are homophobic. I mean, many of the toxic ones are. We’ve all seen them and interacted with them and received hate anons from them. When Noah’s article officially confirming Will’s sexuality dropped during the summer, people were literally tweeting slurs and fantasizing about him being hate-crimed or dying from AIDS. (It’s probably unfair to group Mlvns in with these people, as lots of them weren’t even Mlvns, just bigoted GA members and trolls). But still. It was bleak. There’s a deep darkness within the ST fandom undeniably.

But I’m sure many Mlvns/Byler-antis are the types of people who genuinely have no problem with queer people in real life. When we call them out on their bigotry and homophobia, they get confused and say, “But I have gay friends! How am I homophobic for not liking Byler?” And they mean it 100%. They really do have gay friends. They probably consider themselves allies and yada yada.

The issue is that A) they are deeply heteronormative without realizing it, and B) they simply aren’t the target audience for the show, and as such, they don’t really understand or connect to the themes of the show. The thing is, lots of people, many Milkvans included, are simply normies. Now I love Steve as a character, so this is literally no hate to Steve, but lots of people are Steves. And people who are like Steve: popular, straight, attractive, used to dating the types of people they want, into ‘normal’ interests like sports (not that Steve is hyper into sports, but you know what I mean), likely to go down ‘normal’ paths and live fairly conventional lives like their parents, etc. are simply not the target audience for the show.

Obviously, the show centers on outcasts, nerds, queer characters, characters with disabilities, black characters, etc. Most people recognize this on some level, but they recognize it in more of a general sense like, “Of course the protagonists are nerds/outcasts, just like all the classic 80s teen protagonists. I just love how nostalgic ST is!” And they leave it at that. Because they are normies, they don’t really connect to the themes of the show other than a surface-level, power of friendship sense. They don’t see how Byler is more aligned with the show’s message than Milkvan at this point. They don’t see that the outcast status of most of the characters is more than just a throwaway personality trait… its deeply integral to the point of the show itself and closely connected to the supernatural storyline.

This is because nerd culture is somewhat mainstream now, and lots of “normies” like it too. Star Wars, Marvel, LOTR, Harry Potter, etc. These are all major parts of society and billion dollar franchises, even more so than they were in the 80s. Because of this, people don’t realize that in the context of the world of the show, they wouldn’t have been friends with the Party most likely. It is far more statistically likely that they would’ve rolled with Angela’s friend group or joined Jason’s human hunting squad. Or even if they weren’t outright bullies, it’s far more likely that they would’ve been one of the nameless background characters in Hawkins High, just kind of floating by in a conventionally comfortable existence, entirely oblivious to government lab conspiracies and alternate dimensions. The characters in ST are outcasts in a deeper, existential sense. Society is against them.

And so many people can’t relate, especially to the queer themes. They can’t even see the queer themes. Because the show is not for them. That’s why you see so many baffling takes on the show:

“Will is so whiny all the time, and I don’t like him!”

“Mike was right in the rain fight! S3 is about growing up, and Will was acting like a baby.”

“Tbh I don’t care that much about the Party dynamics. My favorite part of the show is Steve and Dustin being funny together. And my second favorite part is Hopper being a cool action hero.”

“B*lly is overhated! I mean, he’s so hot and misunderstood! He could’ve redeemed himself.”

“I don’t get Byler. It barely seems like Mike and Will are even friends.”

To be clear, it doesn’t mean they don’t enjoy the genre of the show. Being horror/sci-fi, its core fans are a smaller pool of people than, say, fans of The Office or Friends or other popular sitcoms. So the Mlvns who watched it since the beginning probably do have some avant-garde tastes in terms of genre-preferences, since lots of people wouldn’t touch horror with a ten-foot pole. But it does mean they don’t pick up on the themes of the show and the arc of the characters.

(Of course, many newer fans now are just watching it cause it’s popular, regardless of which genres they typically prefer. This opens the show up to lots of people who don’t connect to anything about the show, not just its themes but also its darker content. A lot of newer fans sound like this: “Like, I just love that Mike was in love with El from the day he found her in the woods, and it’s so cute that El is Mike’s superhero, and Eddie is so cool and badass; I wish he could’ve told Chrissy how he felt, and I’m anxiously awaiting S5 to see who Nancy chooses but I hope she chooses Steve… Stancy 4ever!” This is because Stancy is like every other conventionally attractive couple in media).

I’m rambling, but a lot of people are into Milkvan because of their expectations that “pretty boy and pretty girl go together,” and that’s all there is to it. Finn is attractive and Millie is attractive, and they play the protagonists, so of course Mike and El are endgame. Why wouldn’t they be? This is true for the girls who project themselves onto Millie and see Finn/Mike as a dream boyfriend, and it’s true for the guys who project themselves onto Finn and who would want nothing more than to have a cool, superpowered girlfriend.

This is the way of nature. In a normie worldview, there’s no deviation from this path. A lot of fans basically take The Kissing Booth/To All the Boys I Loved Before and slap a sci-fi/horror filter on it, and they think that’s what Stranger Things is. It’s a cool show where kids fight monsters, and there are normal, heterosexual romances like Mlvn to root for, and there’s a badass superhero main character at the center.

Oh, there’s a gay character too? Well, that’s weird. I mean, y’all already have Robin, but whatever. I’m not homophobic! I’m cool with Will being gay… as long as he stays over there. Oh, he’s in love with Mike? Well, that’s even weirder. Why would the writers do that? I suppose that’s fine, as long as it’s just a little crush, and as long as it doesn’t get in the way of “the main storyline” and my OTP. I’m not homophobic, I swear! I have gay friends!

And they do. And they might not actively be against LGBTQ+ people in real life. They may really be telling the truth. But because they are Steves, this is where heteronormativity comes into play and blinds them. Main couples in shows are always straight, so the cool sci-fi, monster show they love must also be. They’re fine with Kevin Kellers, but queer Mike doesn’t fit the box that they allot to gay characters. So Mike must be the straightest character of all time to fight back against “weird delusional Byler theories” that would “come out of nowhere.” It’s not that they’re actively anti-gay; it’s that they are profoundly closed-minded and have a very myopic view of sexuality/storytelling/their favorite characters/their favorite shows. This is very similar to the XO, Kitty situation and people who were upset that Kitty was ‘suddenly’ bi and had a crush on Yuri.

WHAT?! Where did this come from? I thought I was watching a normal rom-com! I was fine with the gay characters on it who were clearly televised from the beginning! But Kitty? No! Kitty’s my self-insert. How can she like girls too? It must be a phase and be “less real” than her male love interests. This isn’t Heartstopper. The same weird energy is present in the ST fandom.

Byler being semi-canon isn’t seen as confirmation of a love triangle; it’s seen as a disruption to the norm and the foregone conclusion that Mike and El will be together forever and get married and have telekinetic children because the show owes that to them for all they’ve been through. “But why is Will inserted into their scenes?” we ask them, begging them to see reason. “Idk, but he should know his place and stop being a homewrecker and go find a new boy to like. Just leave the soulmates alone. Mike has already made clear he’s straight and that Will is nothing more than a friend. He said it in the roller rink!” This is how heteronormativity works.

That’s why Byler endgame will be so important because it will shatter preconceived notions and open people’s eyes to the beautiful tapestry of humanity. And they will see that this powerful, queer, coming-of-age, love story was right there, under their noses, in their “fun sci-fi monster show” this whole time. *Mind Blown*

[five-hxrgreeves]

im dYIIIINGGGG with the adam warlock x quill sister! when he calls her 'little quill'??? with that accent of his??? so soft and husky??? im screaming at my phone dude aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i need part iii right freaking now!!!

PAIRING: adam warlock & fem! quill’s sister!reader

POWERS: adapted from D.C.'s Stargirl, although in this instance, the powers are a part of you and the staff just helps you use them.

WC: 1.9k (woo a shorter one this time!) 

SUMMARY: your first meeting with Adam wasn't one that indicated that you'd become friends anytime soon. Your second meeting. . . wasn't great either. But, somewhere along the line, you would develop a soft spot for the curious man-child.

WARNINGS: slight gotg three spoilers, badly written original fight scene, possibly ooc canon!guardians.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: OMG!!! This is my first-ever inbox message- thank you, anon! You made my day with this <3 I love Adam's/Will's accent; I definitely hope that we get to see (and hear) more of him in other Marvel movies. As requested, here's part three (even if it's technically part zero, lol.) I do take requests if anyone wants to send me stuff! (I just won't write smut, sorry!)

I hope you guys enjoy this part, although I'm not very confident about it since I'm terrible at writing fight scenes. It's hard enough for me to imagine original content (like the other two parts) but scenes where people move around a lot without the movie itself to rely on are very difficult for me because my mind doesn't think in pictures, but in words and I don't know how to describe fighting. I'm sorry if this isn't as good as the other parts. 😭

And on a side note, the 'no shit, Captain Sherlock' is another reference to space people messing up Terran lingo :)

Part 1 , Part 2

You were admittedly not in the best mood when you first (officially) met Adam. Peter and Mantis had left only days ago, leaving you to sort out your feelings alone. You were currently in the training room, fueling your sadness into anger at their abandonment. You often used your powers to aid you while you were fighting, but they weren’t much use during everyday life— unless you wanted to fly. Now, however, they were very useful.

Brilliant blasts of golden light shot out from the staff that your hands gripped tightly. While your powers could be used without aid, the staff helped you control them; Ego had made it for you when you’d become old enough to serve as his protector. Although you were disgusted with the weapon’s origins, you couldn’t help but agree that it made your fighting much more effective.

Each of your blasts hit the targets squarely in the middle as you turned deftly to conquer the row. A scowl was prominent on your face as you pictured each of your targets as Peter’s or Mantis’ face. (While you would never really want to hurt them, of course, the sting of their desertion fueled your thoughts.) You were listening to a playlist by the Rage Against the Machine— which you had chosen solely because of the band’s name as it mirrored your feelings. The music that was blasting in your ears was so loud that, if someone had been standing next to you, they could have heard the lyrics as if they were wearing your headphones themselves.

As you moved up and down the line of targets, you were unaware of the audience of three that had entered the room. Groot, Rocket and Adam stopped by the entrance to watch you unleash your fury against whatever enemy you were envisioning. The new leader of the Guardians gestured to you. “There. See? I told you she’s nice.”

Adam hesitated, clearly uncertain. “She looks mad.”

“I am Groot,” Groot agreed.

“Shut up,” Rocket retorted, glaring slightly at the tree who was supposed to be helping his case. “She won’t hurt goldie. You’ve already seen her bad side, haven’t you? This is nuthin’.”

The golden boy had to admit that Rocket was right; he remembered only too well his first encounter with you as you’d jumped in to help your friends fight off his unexpected attack.

--

He’d just defeated the stupid tree-like thing and as it scuttled away like a demented spider, the faint sound of a whistle pierced through the air. An arrow shot out of nowhere, harmlessly bouncing off his skin and only annoying him more than anything else. He looked around sharply, but there didn’t seem to be anyone brave enough to fight him in the vicinity. “Hey! Who threw that?”

He scoffed when there was no answer, stalking towards where he’d last seen his target. But before he could get very far, a force came out of nowhere— this time much stronger than an errant arrow. It knocked him off his feet like a bullet and together they were sent flying through the town, which elicited more cries of fear from the citizens.

He landed harshly against a building that got in the way and debris fell on top of him from the force of the collision. Adam grunted irritably; this was the second time during this fight that his enemy thought that throwing him into a building would be enough to deter his attack— didn’t they ever learn? He stood and shook the dust off his clothes before he strode back out to the street to face this new opponent. Except— it wasn’t the same blue person from before.

The golden boy stared at the other person with disbelief, the only thing that he could come up with was: “you’re a girl!”

She scoffed. “Yeah, no shit, Captain Sherlock.” She twirled the staff in her hands expertly between her fingers before she set the butt down on the ground. It glowed softly as it lit up with her power, her face set. “Let’s do this thing.”

Adam had no qualms about fighting a girl, so they charged at each other without hesitation. He thought she’d be as easy to take down as her teammates but when they collided, she merely used her staff as a shield against his attack. They paced across the open space as they exchanged blows, the girl using her staff offensively and defensively interchangeably. As she flipped neatly out of the way of one of his advances, he began to see how evenly matched they were.

“You are stalling,” he realized. “If you just hand over your friend, we would not have to fight.”

The girl paused, flicking some of her hair out of her eyes. “Oh. Well, in that case—”

She charged at him again, her staff catching on his uniform. She followed him into the air and her swift kick to his stomach sent him tumbling away from her. It was then that he realized that she could fly— just like him— and that was what had powered her initial attack. In the time it took for him to recover from the spin, a blast of golden light was sent his way. Because of his more durable skin, though, the light only felt like volts of electricity rather than something that could do actual damage. The most effective part of her power was the blast itself, which he had to fight through to get closer to her.

Now that he knew where her power came from, he made to attack her staff in order to knock it out of her hands. She seemed to sense his plan— Adam figured most people she fought went this route— and she countered this by trying to fly above him to push him towards the ground. He responded by grabbing the staff in her hands directly while she was mid-swing. The girl was tiring slightly, her breath becoming shorter as the fight went on and she was now on the defensive.

She tried to yank her staff loose from his hold but as evenly matched as they were, he was still stronger. The girl then attempted to shake him off by lighting the staff up with her power. If he hadn’t been such a strong opponent, the golden light would have burned through his hands. As it was, the little volts were barely something that he registered. While he could have easily swung the staff to send her flying off the end and into the ground, he held back the true show of his strength as she didn’t seem to be as resilient as the two blue people or the tree.

Instead, he tried once more for the diplomatic route: “you have fought valiantly for your little friend. If you surrender him to me now I will leave your village in peace.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed with fury as she continued to fight to free her weapon. “Go to hell!”

Adam sighed, having partially expected that response. “Very well. Have it your way, then.”

He smoothly jerked the staff from her grasp and carelessly tossed it to send the weapon spiraling towards the ground. He turned back towards the girl to finish her off as he had her teammates, but he paused. She seemed to hang, suspended, in the air as time appeared to freeze around her. Her eyes widened and, for the first time since he’d encountered her, a look of fear appeared on her face.

Then, she dropped like a stone.

They were very high off the ground by this point and the fall would likely kill a normal being. He wasn’t sure if she would survive, so his reflexes kicked in before he could really think about what he was doing.

By now, the shock had worn off and she fell through the air, she reached up to him as he was the only person who could help her. Adam put on a spurt of speed to try and catch her but she was falling faster than he had anticipated. The girl slammed into the ground and lay still just as he landed next to her. He told himself that saving her wasn’t his mission, and her incapacitation only made obtaining his goal easier. His mother’s orders echoed in his mind, so against his instinct he turned away from her in pursuit of the squirrel.

--

You felt a tap on your shoulder, startling you. You whirled around with your staff in a defensive position only to be met with the sight of your teammates. With a sigh, you pulled out one earbud but didn’t pause your music.

“What?” you asked shortly.

“Don’t you take that tone with me, Little Quill. I’m ya superior now,” Rocket replied, unaffected by your attitude. “I wanted you to meet golden boy here.”

You gave Adam a once-over, ignoring how the sight of his. . . attractive features made your stomach curl pleasantly. “Yeah. We’ve met.”

The boy in question shifted uncomfortably, feeling once again ashamed of his previous actions. Before he could say anything, Rocket spoke again, adjusting the straps of his jumpsuit as he did so: “well, I ain’t great with humie ages, but I figured ya’d be about the same. I thought it might boost team morale to see ya two hangin’ out together or whatever humies your age do.”

While your first response was to dismiss the whole endeavor— you didn’t want to get close to someone else just to have them leave you, too— but a small, traitorous part of your mind whispered: he saved your brother. Another part chimed in: he’s not bad to look at.

“Fine,” you grumbled. “He can stay, but he better not get in my way. I’m not stopping my training because of him.”

“That’s the spirit, Little Quill,” your captain said, choosing to not acknowledge your reluctance. “I’ll leave ‘im in your hands. Let’s go, Groot.”

As you shoved the earbud back in your ear, you could faintly hear Adam’s protest: “wait! You’re not leaving me here, are you?”

While Rocket’s reply was drowned out by your music, the boy’s words hit you unexpectedly; it sounded just like your response to Peter’s and Mantis’ disinclination to stay with the Guardians. Some of your anger faded as you glanced at the boy who stood awkwardly in your periphery. Despite all of his strength and power, Adam looked a bit like a lost puppy and his expression made your features soften against your will. Fine. Whatever. It wouldn’t kill you to be nice.

You took out an earbud again. “Well, don’t just stand there. I know you can fight, so let’s see you use those skills.”

At the reminder of your first encounter, he sent you a guilty look. As he stepped up next to you, he said quietly, “I’m sorry about that, by the way. For almost killing you.”

You patted him on the arm companionably. “Hey, no hard feelings. You’re not the first and you certainly won’t be the last, so just add your name to the list.”

All of the Guardians had forgiven him with surprising readiness and it seemed like you were no different— only, you were. His gaze stayed on the spot where your hand had touched him. There was a lingering warmth as if your hand was still there, the sensation sending tingles (not unlike the ones that he felt during your blasts of power) through him.

Taglist:

@repostingmyfavs , @trashpenguin

[spade-riddles]

Submission:

💛 I like the Gracie theories!

Part one :-)

Gracie said the song ‘Us’ is a conversation where they’re singing to each other. What if Gracie and Taylor met earlier? Did you know they allegedly met because Taylor invited Gracie to her birthday in 2021, seems a rather personal thing to invite someone you’ve never met to right? What if it was an olive branch?

Late 2020-Early 2021 First meeting:

Gracie starts the conversation:

I know you know

(I know you that i’m queer and that I know that you’re queer)

It felt just like a joke

(We’re dancing around the topic it feels so silly)

I show, you don’t

(I tell you i’m queer, tell you about my girlfriend perhaps)

And now we're talkin'

I know your ghost

(Karlie)

I see her throw the smoke

(Through the smoke and mirrors, the lavender haze, the bearding)

She’ll play her show

(The performance of her life, the husband and kids)

And you’ll be watchin’

(You have to watch her do this)

From here we presume Taylor doesn’t take it the best or rather just doesn’t open up to her, perhaps it’s around just after the masters heist which is how Gracie picked up on her flagging and had the courage to bring it up.

And if history’s clear someone always ends up in ruins

(We don’t talk about it because someone ends up upset now)

And what seemed like fate becomes "What the hell was I doin'?"

(Reflecting on the conversation, I’m such an idiot why was I asking her that, this line calls back to failed coming out in Taylor’s verse)

Babylon lovers hanging lifetimes on a vine

Do you miss mine?

(I showed, you never heard about her again)

Gracie:

I know you know

It felt like somethin' old

It felt like somethin' holy, like souls bleedin', so

(A way to describe recognising queerness in another person, it does feel holy in a sense)

Gracie:

It fеlt like what I've known

(I recognised this in you and when i’m near you I can recognise it more)

You’re twenty nine years old

So how can you be cold when I open up my home?

(Why didn’t you give me yours? Why didn’t you open up to me? You’re twenty nine, you’re older than me, I should be the one that’s scared about this)

----------------------

💛 Part Two

Late 2021:

Taylor:

And if history’s clear the flames always end up in ashes

(Failed coming out, likely reason for not opening up)

And what seemed like fate give it ten months and you’ll be past it

(“Come to my Birthday party?”)

Babylon lovers hanging missed calls on the vine

I gave you mine

(I told you about my queerness and Karlie)

The chorus between verses floats through different targets. Gracie may have harboured some hurt feelings about the interaction, in turn probably hurt feelings about Taylor’s role in continuing the machine of closeting (especially in a time when she could be pivotal in breaking that machine for a young queer artist like herself; times are rapidly changing now but even five years ago there weren’t many out and proud big pop artists). Directing the “do you miss us?” at Taylor, do you miss the idea of what could have been? I felt it, I held it, I felt that you were coming out with Lover, I felt the ice castle cracking, do you regret not doing it?

By the second chorus they’ve teamed up, directing the questions at their audience, US. Do we mind? Do we mind that they’re glass closeted, that they know we know, do we miss what could have been? Do we regret listening to the queer signalling and being transfixed while also watching them being spineless in their tomb of silence?

The bridge is where they turn on the machine together, everyone that keeps them closeted, Record Labels, CEOs, Managers, Family etc etc

That night you were talking false prophets and profits

They make in the margins of poetry sonnets

(You made me into this idol for the world that I don’t want to be because it’s not who I am but I continue to do it and it is lining your pockets)

You never read up on it, shame could’ve learned something

(These people didn’t read the poetry sonnets, often that they’re the target of, could’ve learnt that they were destroying their lives)

Robert Bly on my nightstand, gifts from you, how ironic

(Robert Bly is famous for self help material, how ironic that you’re giving me this gift but also causing me to need it)

The curse or a miracle, hearse or an oracle

(Is being famous and closeted awful or once in twenty lifetimes? Will it kill us or save us?)

The last chorus is to this group of people, likely in the future.

All speculation :-)

[upsidedownwithsteve]

thinking about camp!steve fighting with hawkins over something petty and they're both horny and pent up bc they haven't had any time alone

"you're gonna regret that, princess"

"oh no, i'm shaking in my boots"

"yeah, you will be shaking by the time I'm done with you"

😳🥵

It wasn’t like either of you had wanted to go in the first place, but Steve’s parents had cornered you both on one of the rare occasions they’d been home. 

Mrs Harrington had gasped and air kissed you on both cheeks as you stumbled down their stairs that morning, wide eyed and only dressed in her son's T-shirt. 

“I’m so sorry,” you croaked out, mortified. “Steve and I didn’t hear you guys get in last night.”

And so you had to stand, barefoot and clutching at the hem of Steve’s shirt as his mother cooed over their tip to Paris, how the meeting had gone so well, how their flight got in earlier than planned and did you know that the Duncan’s down the road were getting a divorce?

You had just wanted a coffee. 

But Steve had eventually stirred enough to hear his mom, launching himself out of bed in a bid to save you. It all went downhill from there, ‘cause his dad appeared, back from his morning run to jab a little meanly at his son's (flat) stomach, telling him he needed to work out more now he wasn’t on the basketball team. 

You held Steve’s hand under the table. And then came the real kicker. 

“Oh! Before I forget,” Mrs Harrington cried out over her cappuccino. “It’s the family party this weekend. You’ll both be attending, right? Cousin Michael is bringing his fiancé, Steven, so won’t it be nice that you'll be taking a girlfriend this time?”

You stared. “Family party?”

“A whole house full of Harrington’s!” Steve’s dad declared, whisking two eggs into his smoothie. You tried not to grimace. “We rent the old Manor House out by Bloomington for the weekend. You know it, it’s near that silly, little camp you guys waste your time at.” 

Your jaw clenched at the same time Steve’s did. 

—————

Two days in and you were at your wits end. The rest of Steve’s family was just like his parents. Obnoxious, brash and arrogant, all with a habit of talking about money and business, even over a seven o’clock breakfast. His younger cousins didn’t know how to knock on doors, Aunt Deniese’s toddler liked to throw things at Steve’s hair, his uncle was constantly winking at you and his grandmother kept grabbing you by the arm and asking when you’d be giving her a grandchild. 

‘Never, at this rate,’ you’d wanted to yell at her. ‘Seeing as nobody gives us a fucking second alone.’

Steve was almost unbearable. Almost. He’d turned surly and quiet, barely speaking the morning of the trip ‘cause he’d already had an argument about taking his car rather than sitting in the back of his dads.  He’d apologised to you over and over the night before, warning you about his family, how they were, how they acted. He’d even told you you could still back out, but you’d kissed away his apologies and told him you weren’t leaving him to the wolves alone. 

But the boy turned into a shell of himself at the hands of his relatives. He was prickly and constantly frowning, brow furrowed and he flinched when you tried to soothe it away. You’d have been offended if you hadn’t felt as on edge as you knew he did, constantly awaiting the next backhanded compliment from one of his aunts, a sympathetic expression written on his cousin's faces when you told them your shoes were from Target. 

You saw the way Steve looked at you though. Heated in a different way, the best way. Like he was aching to touch you and have you and kiss you without an audience, ‘cause everytime you reached for him, it gave someone in his family an excuse to berate you both. 

‘God, Steve. She’s clingy isn’t she?’

‘Can't you two be apart for more than half an hour?’

‘You know, if you want this relationship to survive, you gotta realise that money keeps it together. Where are you working, Steve?’

‘You know he’ll cheat on you right? He’ll be just like his dad.’

It only stopped when dinner was over and the table was cleared by the hired staff, Steve’s dads incoming speech about the family business interrupted by his son grabbing your hand and dragging you upstairs to your room. 

The bedroom door closed and Steve could breathe again. Just. 

You stared at him, chest heaving with half jogging through the too big house, with holding in the anger you wanted to let out over the mahogany tabletop. You were pent up, pulled tight. So was Steve. 

Maybe you could fix it. If he’d let you. 

“Fuck this weekend,” he was seething, kicking at his suitcase that had remained unpacked on the floor. “Honest to god, this fucking family. Shouldn’t have bothered even coming, knew this shit would happen, always fucking does.”

You kicked off your shoes, enjoying the way they clattered angrily against the hardwood. The noise caught your boyfriend’s attention and he turned, wide eyed. You didn’t say anything as you unzipped your dress, angrily shoving down the straps until it pooled at your feet. 

You let out another harsh breath, “yeah?” You agreed with Steve, with everything he said. “Wanna fight about it?”

Steve’s eyes flashed, lips parting, nostrils flaring and you knew that look, you loved that look. He sucked in a breath, knocking over the stupid ceramic horse statue on top of the dresser when he backed into it. He nodded, a determined look in his eyes. 

“Yeah,” his voice cracked. “Fuck, yeah, let’s fight about it.”

You grinned, wicked, sliding down the straps of your bra, hands behind your back to snap at the hooks. It joined your dress on the floor. Steve’s head hit the wall with a thud, tipped back, pupils blown wide, panting. 

He needed this. 

“C’mon, pretty boy,” you murmured, “let’s make it better.”

Steve crossed the room in seconds, shirt shed before he reached you, some buttons popping and scattering across the room. He was rough when he kissed you, hands grabbing at your waist, almost bending you backwards when his mouth met yours, tongue sweeping past your lips immediately. 

You keened high, uncaring about the other guests, knowing that the dining room was far enough away that they’d probably not hear anyway. So you kissed back just as desperate, hands clutching Steve’s jaw, squeaking when he lifted you without warning, grasping at your thighs that he coaxed around his hips. 

Your back hit a wall, photo frames rattling and you felt the click of his teeth against yours when you grinned against each other, chests heaving. 

“Fuck,” Steve groaned, hands grabbing at the dough of your ass, pushing your thighs apart so he could grind into you, already painfully hard. “Princess.”

He said it like he used to, less softer, a little more mean, teasing and sticky with condescension. It made your toes curl. Made you think about your first kiss in a cabin in the forest, thick, summer heat clawing at your throat along with an undeniable need for the boy. It felt animalistic. Like this did now. 

“Wanna fuck me?” You cooed, voice breathy, hands raking through the boy’s hair, nails leaving marks on his shoulders, his back. “Yeah, baby? Wanna fuck me hard? Wanna mark me up and forget about everything else?”

Steve groaned, a messy, dirty noise and he sounded wild. He nodded, nose bumping yours, one hand skating up your bare side until he could catch at your jaw. 

“Fuck, yeah I do. Gonna be good for me?” He asked nicely and god, he looked so good. Tanned skin, freckles across his shoulders, lips swollen and slick from your kisses. “Gonna do as you’re told?”

You grinned, kissing sweet at his jaw. “Not in the slightest,” you whispered against his skin. 

Satisfied, you let your head fall back against the wall, watching Steve from under your lashes, hands skating across his throat. Steve wanted a fight, after all. He liked the way you pushed back, babe as good as you got, when pressed him into the pillows so you could ride him until he wanted to cry at how good it felt. 

He wanted his hair pulled, scratches down his back, your moans in his ear, lavender coloured bruises on his throat, ones that matched yours. He wanted to fuck out the anger like you were the one who caused it. 

You never caused it. Ever. 

But it was fun to play. 

Steve grinned, ecstatic with your answer. His fingers gripped your ass tighter, fingers slipping under the lace there and he spun you both, letting you drop into the bed so you bounced. He reached for his belt buckle, watching you as he stood at the edge of the bed. 

“You’re so fucking pretty.” A moment of softness, a gentle hand on your stomach before he pushed you down onto the sheets. 

[salty-croissants]

A male reader gets into a bar fight after someone insults bullfrog, the aftermath has the frog taking care of his bruises while worrying about his careless attitude towards his own life.

((Sorry, my first time ever requesting so a bit nervous. 😅))

Thank you for the request !

I gotta say , I really love this concept for a Bullfrog story : it’s just so neat and creative , so honestly thank you for sending this :D 

Hope it turned out okay ! 

Details : use of male reader ; 

established relationships ; 

presence of violence , mild swearing and blood 

That night was supposed to be … well , like any other night , with you accompanying your boyfriend to one of his missions and waiting for him in a nearby bar .

Before he left , Bullfrog didn’t miss the opportunity to give you a goodbye kiss ( you had to get on your knees to allow him to do that , which never failed to make him adorably flustered ) , and as he gave you one last tender caress on your cheek he also left you with a reminder : 

< Please stay safe , mon choux !

 I should be back soon , if you need me don’t be afraid to call me , and make sure to - > 

< Hey , don’t worry , I’m gonna be careful … besides , you know I can handle myself just fine if something doesn’t go right . > 

< Je sais , je sais … still , I’ll be here as fast as I can : I did promise you we’d spend some time together when we get home , and let’s just say I’m really looking forward to it , my love ~ > 

You couldn’t help but smile while watching him rush off and quickly disappear in the darkness .

He was such a sweetheart , no one would’ve been able to guess how lethal he was on the job and how quickly he could end the lives of the targets unfortunate enough to meet him … 

As you sat on one of the bar’s chairs , lost in thought with a drink in your hand , time went by surprisingly quickly , and when you begun to glance at the door to see if Bullfrog had arrived you felt a presence next to you …

< Well hello there , good to see such a pretty face here at this hour … >

You turned around to find a … quite sketchy looking man staring at you :

since the place was pretty crowded you hadn’t paid much attention to him , but now it seemed like he had made the decision to engage in conversation … something that was a bit unsettling , given that he was a complete stranger trying to randomly flirt with you . 

< Uh … > 

You took a sip of what was left of your drink , making sure to avoid hehe contact to reinforce the fact that you weren’t interested . 

… but he didn’t seem to take the hint , and was it just your impression or did he move closer … ? 

Well , if he even dared to try anything you were more than ready to make good use of your fighting skills . 

After some more uncomfortable silence , the man spoke again , this time a clear disgust in his tone …

< Y’know , I’ve seen you talking to that … thing before you came in .

Honestly I can’t help but wonder how you can feel something positive for a hybrid :

I mean - they’re all such pathetic , worthless creatures , am I right ? > 

The more he talked , the more you felt your blood boil …

< I’ll have you know that that “thing” you’re referring to is my boyfriend . > 

, you coldly replied , giving him a warning glare .

< … 

Pfft - wait you’re serious ? Holy shit ! > 

He laughed loudly in response , causing some of the people around to give you both their attention .

The last thing you would’ve wanted was an audience … but you knew that you couldn’t let that massive douchebag get away with saying those things . There was no way you would let it slide .

< You - you mean to tell me that you’d rather be with a fucking frog than an actual person ? 

C’mon , don’t be ridiculous … that little monster doesn’t deserve a guy as cute as you , you can do so much better th - > 

It all happened in a few seconds … 

You suddenly stood up , and before you could even stop to think about what you were doing punched the man on the face hard enough to knock him down on the floor , the terrified and excited screams of the small crowd ringing in your head .

< Don’t you DARE say that shit about him ever fucking again , YOU HEAR ME !? > 

He slowly stood up , wiping a few drips of blood that had fallen from his nose after the impact , and the way he furiously looked at you made it clear that he was mad … very mad . 

< Gh … you … I’M GONNA KILL YOU !!! > 

Everyone who was left quickly fled from the bar , leaving you and him furiously fighting without giving the other a chance to breathe .

While you were definitely better trained , the man was unfortunately a lot bigger than you , and every successful hit he landed on you was starting to hurt … but you couldn’t give up , not after what you heard him say . 

Eventually , a well-directed punch in the stomach caused you to fall on your knees , the pain making your vision become blurry .

< Heh - that’s what you get you bitch !! > 

His eyes were clouded with a terrifying euphoria as he grabbed you by the hair …

< Oh I’m gonna enjoy this … > 

You shut your eyes , trying to prepare yourself to receive your worst beating in years … but that’s when you felt his grip loosening , letting you fall down on the floor . 

< y/n ! > 

That voice … could it really be … ? 

< B … Bullfrog … ? > 

You slowly opened your eyes again to find him on top of the man’s body , whose throat had been cut open by the assassin’s blades .

< I’m … *cough* …

I’m sorry … I know , this is a mess , but - agh — > 

< Careful - don’t stand up too fast … 

Here , let’s just … let’s just go . > 

Without another word , your boyfriend helped you up , and the two of you walked away as quickly as you could , the distant sound of sirens getting more and more far with each step .

Some time later …

< Now … can you tell me what happened back there , s'il te plaît ? > 

There it was … the question you knew would come sooner or later . 

You looked down , feeling Bullfrog’s eyes on you while he patched you up .

< I … that guy , he said such awful stuff about you while being a creep and trying to hit on me …

Called you a monster …

I just - I couldn’t let him get away with it so I … punched him . > 

You felt his hand gently lifting up your chin as he stared at you .

< y/n … I appreciate you wanting to defend me , but you know I don’t want you to get hurt because of me . We’ve talked about this . > 

< So what , I was supposed to just stand by and let that asshole call you names ?

How is that fair ? > 

< Non , it’s not fair , but almost getting yourself killed to prevent that won’t help .

Did you even stop to think about what could’ve happened to you ? 

What if I didn’t make it in time to stop him ? What if you died tonight ?

My chéri , my partner , the one I love most in the entire world … gone . > 

He wiped away some of the blood on your face , and you could feel his hand shake slightly as he did … a sign of how troubled he was while imagining that scenario .

< … Je … je ne peux pas … I just can’t afford to lose you , y/n . You’re too important to me . > 

The dark alleyway in which you were hiding remained completely silent after that , until you sighed while placing a kiss on his palm .

< Bullfrog … that’s not gonna happen , I promise . 

You’re right , I … really didn’t think this through . I just … every time I hear someone talking about you like that I lose it … > 

Bullfrog’s expression softened , and as he placed his forehead against yours all the bad experiences of that night seemed to vanish …

< I know … you’re always looking out for me mon amour , and I love you so much for that ~ 

… just , maybe next time don’t punch anyone , alright ? > 

< Heh … I’ll try not to . > 

He chuckled in response , while slowly getting back on his feet .

< Now then … as soon as you feel ready we can try to head back home : I think it’s safe to say it’s been quite a long night for both of us . > 

< Yeah , that sounds like a plan . 

… plus I do need to thank you properly for saving my life don’t I ? ~ > 

< Oh , you know you don’t have to thank me , my dear … but it would be crazy to pass up that offer ~ > 

[katy-l-wood]

AI and the Bursting of the Social Media Bubble: How to Survive as a Creative

I've been wanting to put my thoughts on AI and Social Media into a more collected format, so I've written up a longer post on it on my blog on my website, and I'm sharing it here as well.

---------

Let’s face it, being a creative is becoming a rougher and rougher ride lately, especially if you’re a creative who grew up on the internet. A lot has changed in just the last year. The downfall of Twitter, the rise of AI. For awhile there we had a golden age of social media platforms that could really help us build our audience and careers, only for that all to start evaporating seemingly overnight, leaving a lot of creators stranded and disoriented. Look on any site right now and you’ll find creators terrified of losing everything to AI, creators terrified of losing their audience if their main social media presence gets shut down or banned, creators completely unsure of how to navigate the industry with half their tools taken away.

It sucks.

But, at the same time, as quick as it feels, this has been a long time coming. The social media bubble has been primed to burst for awhile now. What made social media a great tool for creators in the beginning was its authenticity. Social media was social. You found people you liked, you followed them, and you saw what they posted in the order they posted it. There were no games. No tricks. Ads that were present were less intrusive, less targeted, and less frequent. People weren’t as determined to play numbers games with who could get the most followers, the most likes, the most most most. An independent creator or small studio might sell to you, but you knew there were people behind those products. You knew there was a person who cared, who just wanted to show you the neat thing they made, not drive up their metrics or try out all those Cool Tricks they learned in a business psychology class.

Then big companies said “hey, we want a piece of that pie too,” so they started hopping on to social media as well. But it didn’t work for them, not the way it did for independent creators, because it wasn’t authentic. It was marketing. There wasn’t a person who cared behind the screen, it was some kid hired fresh out of school and handed a brand standards packet and told to make it work. They didn’t care about really connecting with people, they cared about sales and sales alone.

The big companies didn’t like that it wasn’t working for them, oh no. People should be giving them attention too!!!1! So the shift began. Ads got more targeted and more frequent. Algorithms grew in size and scope, driving people towards content they never asked for or showed any real interest in, barely showing things that people had actually followed at all. Social media stopped being social. It became marketing media and, as a consequence, small creators got buried in the deluge. Some gave up, some did their best to trundle along doing what they could, and some tried to play the game under its new rules only to have their audience still evaporate because, without a huge marketing budget, the corporate method doesn’t work at all. A few got lucky and went viral, rising to the top without having to play by the rules, but many of those struggled to maintain it and crashed back down soon after.

Then there’s the homogenization. Facebook bought Instagram. TikTok exploded in popularity, so Youtube added Shorts and Instagram added Reels. Twitter added longer and longer content options, despite being a micro blogging site. Patreon took off, so everyone started adding paid content options. Social media sites were so terrified of someone doing better than them that they all became exactly the same. Before, you had an account on every site because they each did something different. They each had their own value. But now they’re all the same, so why bother having multiple accounts if you can accomplish the same thing on each one? These companies have shot themselves in the foot by no longer offering anything unique, then got mad that they were bleeding and blamed their users even though they were the ones holding the gun.

And, of course, Twitter is over there bleeding out on the floor. Plenty of social media sites have risen and fallen over the years—Myspace, DeviantART, to name a couple—but Twitter is the first one to be so maliciously and quickly taken out with a shot to the head. Almost overnight creators have lost a major source of connection to literary agents, art directors, job boards, and just a generally vibrant network of other creators and supporters. A few contenders tried to step into the ring to replace Twitter, but all seem to have fizzled out within a few months.

Amidst the social media meltdown, a new player stomped onto the scene: Artificial Intelligence. It swept in just as quickly as the demise of Twitter and at about the same time. Within just months it went from generating strange blobby horses with too many legs to almost perfectly replicating the styles of well known artists. Which, understandably, made everyone panic. As soon as it was on the scene we saw major publishers using it to create book covers (rather than hire an artist), news sites using it to create graphics (rather than hire an artist), people using it to pump out low quality books to put on Amazon (rather than learning to write themselves), and plenty more. We learned that the data sets these AI were trained on were all stolen art and writing. We watched everyone wave off our concerns and tell us we were overreacting, that this was just the “democratization of art.” Nevermind that a computer doesn’t need to pay rent, or fill the fridge, or pay medical bills.

The AI saga is still ongoing, and likely will be for a long time yet. But this article isn’t about AI in and of itself, so we’ll leave it there.

In the latest development of the social media bubble burst, the RESTRICT act got thrown into the pile. Falsely dubbed the “TikTok Ban,” the RESTRICT act is a vastly overreaching bill that would decimate the internet as we know it. It actually doesn’t mention TikTok at all within the text of the bill, TikTok is just the Trojan horse being used to try and push the bill through. It has, however, garnered vehement disagreement from both sides of the aisle so who knows what will happen there.

That’s where we stand right now. Many social media sites are dying, AI is stealing work, and the government is trying to destroy the internet as we know it. Good times. Good times. So what the hell are us creators supposed to do? Well, there’s a few ways to go about it and a few good ways to protect yourself.

Firstly: remember that you are unique. AI is not actually intelligent, it cannot actually learn, it can just cobble together data with zero actual understanding of what that data means. Only you can come up with your characters, your stories, your designs. Even an AI trained exclusively on your work cannot create the things you will create in the future. An AI can’t know why it’s important to draw seams on clothing to give the shapes more form, it can’t know why it’s important to show not tell in a story, it can’t understand the importance of proper kerning in a logo. Do you think Good Omens (both the book and the show) would have the nuanced characterization it does if there weren’t real people with real experiences behind its creation? Your creations are yours, you learned the things you needed to to bring them to life, you cobbled together dozens of tiny, seemingly inconsequential experiences from your own life to create them, and that is why they will always have value.

Secondly: be authentic. Be excited about your own work. Be a person. Don’t just push your content and shop and sales all the time. Relax. Geek out about a fandom. Share a meme. Get in a lengthy friendly debate about ancient copper merchants. You don’t have to, and shouldn’t, overshare your personal life, but you can and should still be a person. You are not a corporation and trying to act like one, trying to keep pace with what they do, will just hinder you. Being authentic will build trust between you and your audience, and that is key to creating a stable environment. An extension of this: don’t beg. Your audience does not owe you attention. Give them a reason to care and they will, even if it takes awhile.

Thirdly: own your audience. Have your own website, even if it is a simple single page business card website to point people to other places. Make it your hub so that people—fans, art directors, agents, etc.—will be able to find you and reach out to you even if your social media sites go down. Have a newsletter that people can sign up for, and back that data up frequently. Don’t rely on any social media website to hold your following for you, because it can vanish overnight and suddenly you’ll be back at square one. But a CSV of emails backed up onto a couple of hard drives? That’s YOURS. Substack died? Oh well, you backed up the CSV a couple days ago and now you can just upload it to a different newsletter platform and pick up right where you left off.

Fourthly: figure out what kind of creative you want to be. Yeah, some work is going to be lost to AI. Yeah, you’re going to miss out on some jobs because you can’t chat with art directors on Twitter anymore. But there will always be work out there for creatives, even if it is different than you used to imagine. Maybe you won’t be able to get into concept art with a huge gaming company the way you dreamed, but that doesn’t mean you can’t find a great indie studio to work with. Maybe you won’t be able to get a traditional publishing deal because you don’t like their values anymore, but that doesn’t mean you can’t run a great self-publishing campaign on Kickstarter.

Fifthly: support other creators. Share their work. Point art directors their way if you don’t have time for a particular job. Introduce them to your own audience. Boost their commission info posts. Build your network.

Lastly, ask yourself this: are you going to stop consuming content from your favorite creators just because AI exists? Just because Twitter died? Are you going to shelve all your favorite books because AI is out there? Stop looking at art that isn’t made by an AI? No. You’re not. You’re going to keep consuming the things you love, and so will everyone else. Maybe not in the same ways, maybe not in the same amounts, but they will.

One final note: do you know what happened when photography started to become widely available and affordable? Illustrators panicked. If newspapers could just snap a quick photo of the latest news, they wouldn’t need to hire illustrators. If catalogues could photograph their products, they wouldn’t need to hire illustrators. It was a huge shift in the entire industry, and illustrators did lose work. But you know what? A century later, we’re still here. We still have value. We still get work. We still create amazing things that can’t be done any other way. Our ancestors have weathered this storm before, and we will weather it this time, even if we get a little banged up in the process.

If you enjoyed this content, tips are very much appreciated! (But 100% not required!)

[xofanfics]

Lost for Words - Part II

Part I | Part II | Part III

Genre: angst, fluff, smut 🥺🤗🥵

Pairing: Reader x Kun // Reader x Taeyong

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You have the best boyfriend you could’ve asked for. Things take an interesting turn as you befriend your new coworker, exploring the blurred lines between friendship and something more.

Taeyong’s thoughts revolved around you for the rest of the weekend and for the three weeks that followed. He found himself thinking about you more and more as the days went on, even outside of work. They started out as simple thoughts; just flashbacks at how beautiful you’d looked that morning. Then the thoughts got a little more complex. He’d look at menus and think about all the foods you told him you liked. He’d make a note to himself to tell you all about it and give you that recommendation. But then he took it even further by imagining himself taking you there someday, on a date. He wondered what it would be like to kiss you, to hold you so close that he could easily smell the scent of your perfume. 

He hated the fact that you weren’t single. He hated the fact that you had a boyfriend. He hated the fact that he had absolutely no chance with you. He knew he had no right to feel this way, but he couldn’t help himself. His thoughts and feelings were just that - thoughts and feelings, where they would remain in his mind and heart until he decided to move on. An even more delusional side of him even wondered if there was the possibility of you and your boyfriend breaking up.

It was pretty early on into their relationship, but he knew that he could see himself with you. It’d been a month and a half and he felt like you’d gotten considerably close with him. The team was pretty close, in general, though, so Taeyong had a hard time understanding if this was how you acted with everyone. 

Today, he had a meeting with you to discuss his findings from a marketing campaign that just ended. You would normally have this meeting with the rest of the team, but Taeyong honestly just wanted to have some time alone with you. He presented it to you under the guise of wanting to give you the information as soon as possible. He insisted that he’d just do the full presentation next week, once Valentina had returned from her maternity leave. 

The two of you didn’t have meetings alone often, so Taeyong was enjoying every second of it. He watched as you listened to his findings. He loved how attentive you were and how you always had a question or two. Plus, the longer you talked, the more time he got to spend with you. 

He was well aware that you were his coworker. He knew that you should probably stay that way, but he couldn’t help feeling so drawn to you. Even your other team members praised how well you worked together. Workplace relationships were almost always a bad idea, right? But in the delusional side of Taeyong’s mind, he thought that he could make it work whether anyone knew about it or not. Of course, he would prefer no one knowing. He wouldn’t want you to be the target of gossip. Even if they were just words, Taeyong knew all too well how hurtful words could be. 

“I hope that all made sense,” he said, “but I think that audiences responded really well to the new templates we used for the email. We tested two different ones but it seemed like the new one performed better.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. We can definitely try that for new products moving forward. I think the new template was easier to read, with more white space.”

“I think that maybe changing up the templates on social media would also be helpful. I’d love to test that as well. I can bring up that idea in the larger meeting next week. How does that sound?”

You nodded. “That would be great. Thank you for your help on this. It really helps to go over this information.”

“No problem,” he said as you turned toward the door. He could see your coworkers gathering by the entrance. “By the way, are you joining everyone for lunch? I hear they’re trying a new soup place.”

You shook your head. “Nah. I’m not really in the mood for soup.”

“What are you in the mood for?”

You chuckled. “Honestly? I was thinking of going to the convenience store and having lunch there.”

“Are you okay?” he asked, joining in your laughter. 

“What’s wrong with the convenience store?”

Taeyong shrugged, teasing. “I mean, nothing…I guess.”

“Wanna join?”

“Sure,” he said. “It’s hump day, the perfect time for a cheat meal.”

You giggled as Taeyong opened the door for you. 

*

You enjoyed Taeyong’s company a lot, you realized. You felt like you could be yourself with him around. He was friendly with everyone, of course, but it seemed like you had a lot in common with him. Everyone at the office seemed to like him, too. He was a breath of fresh air, honestly. 

You talked about a lot of things but it seemed like you were having deeper conversations today. You talked about your childhood and how your parents struggled to put you through college and how you never knew until your parents told you that they were selling the house. The three bedroom home that you and your sister had known your whole lives was sold and they moved into a smaller home, further from the city. You told him how you always felt bad about it and how you should’ve gotten a job despite your parents telling you you didn’t need to. 

“Hey,” he said, noticing the melancholic aura, “none of those things are your fault…”

“I know,” you said, “but I wish things had been different back then.”

“If you could change one thing in the past, would it be that?”

You nodded. “I would’ve worked so they didn’t have to sell the house.” You turned to him after taking a bite of your noodles. “Is there anything you would change?”

Interestingly enough, Taeyong shook his head. “I don’t think so.” Noticing your surprised face, he added, “Life sucked a year ago, I’ll admit, but I wouldn’t be where I am today. And I like the way things are going in my life right now. I mean, I like the work I’m doing and I have a team that respects me. I’m also moving into a much nicer apartment in a couple of weeks.”

“That’s amazing. Do you need anything for the apartment? I’d love to get you something.”

“I was debating on having a housewarming party after I move in, actually.”

“You should! It would be fun.”

“I have a few friends that would be able to come. And I’d love to invite a couple people on the team, too. My friend, Hwan, would probably bring his girlfriend. You can bring yours, too, if you want.”

“Yeah,” you said, “I’d be down to come.”

***

Valentina had returned from her maternity leave, a month later, with fresh energy. Among the team, she found herself naturally drawn to Taeyong. His intelligence and unwavering enthusiasm for learning resonated with her deeply. Valentina had always held hard work in high regard – after all, it had propelled her to her current high-level position at the youthful age of thirty-three. Life was starting to come together for her; she was recently married and had welcomed her first child into the world. With her momentum, a promotion within the next couple of years seemed well within reach.

As she entered the meeting room, the soft sound of her heels pierced the air. Her lips curved into a warm smile as she greeted the room with a confident "Good morning." Setting down her cup of coffee, she took her designated seat at the head of the table.

“Morning, Valentina,” you said.

“Does anyone need to dial in today?” asked Taeyong, “We should set up the video conferencing.”

“I think it’s just Hina working from home today,” you said. “She had to have a repairman come in to fix her plumbing.”

Taeyong nodded and went to the computer to set up the camera. Then, David walked in with his laptop and a grin. He sat down at the other end of the table. 

A moment later, Taeyong had set everything up and Hina was on the screen. She waved to everyone and Valentina began.

“I called everyone here this afternoon to provide an exciting update. We understood that a few of you mentioned wanting to attend more conferences and conventions taking place in the industry as we went through last quarter’s employee survey,” she explained. “Due to the number of people that requested, we intend on buying extra tickets for those that are interested in attending. It would be a great opportunity to learn more about our competitors and attend keynotes. This is a new initiative for the company’s commitment to professional development.”

The room was filled with excited chatter and agreeable nods as she went on. She continued, “David and I will be presenting our upcoming product launch, along with a few other high level members of the company. The convention will be taking place in Incheon at the Songdo Convensia Center and we will be staying at the Hanuri Lotus Hotel, which is within walking distance to the convention center. If you’re interested in accommodations, of course, be sure to let us know. It’s coming up next month, so please make decisions soon. I’ll send out an email to follow this meeting with all the necessary information!”

Following the announcement, anticipation filled the air, a collective enthusiasm rippling through the team members. 

By lunchtime, it was all anyone could talk about. As you, Hina, Taeyong, and Kevin stepped out for lunch, the topic of conversation was the conference. It was taking place in the next three to four weeks. Thankfully, you hadn’t made any plans. Kun had mentioned taking a trip at the end of the summer, but that would have to wait.

"I didn't see that coming," Kevin commented, a hint of surprise in his voice. "I mean, we never have the budget for anything…"

Taeyong chimed in, sounding intrigued. "Seriously? You think so?"

Hina joined the conversation with a sarcastic smile. "Oh, absolutely. They're all about decking us out with the latest tech, but when it comes to travel and conferences, suddenly there’s no money" She let out a slight eye roll before returning to her noodles.

You nodded in agreement. “Yeah. They’re usually super strict about budget but I hope this means they’ll invest in us a little more so we can get promoted.”

Taeyong turned to you. “Is getting a promotion hard here?”

Kevin shook his head. “Not necessarily, but I think there’s more room for it now that the marketing and creative teams have been expanding. Honestly, the place was a mess before Valentina came. I’ve been here for about four years and Valentina has been here for a little over two. I went from an intern to a full time employee.”

“Me and Y/N came after. Valentina hired us both.”

Taeyong nodded. “Are you guys going to go to the conference?”

"Absolutely!" The collective response came almost in sync, a chorus of agreement filling the air.

Taeyong let out an airy laugh. “Well, I guess I’ll see you all there.”

***

Despite going into the office everyday, it still seemed like you had nothing to wear. You sifted through your closest, unsatisfied with almost all of the options available. Too business casual, you thought. Not fashionable enough. This was a conference, after all, and you needed to present yourself in a better way. With these sorts of events, you never knew who you’d meet and what opportunities could arise. It’s not that you were looking to leave the company, but you never knew where life would take you.

You started browsing online, looking for more fashionable pieces to add onto your weekend fashion itinerary. Kun placed a mug of chamomile tea on the coffee table for you and planted a kiss on your forehead.

“Still looking for an outfit?” he asked, taking his place next to you on the couch.

You nodded. “Yeah. I saw this really nice pantsuit. Wanna see?”

“Sure,” he said as you went ahead and pulled it up on the screen. “What do you think?”

“I think it’d look gorgeous on you,” he said, “but four hundred dollars?”

“That’s the cost of beauty, babe.”

At that moment, he pulled out his wallet and handed you his credit card. “Buy it. I’d love to take it off of you,” he said, giving you a suggestive grin.

“I’ll be in Incheon, babe,” you explained, taking the card.

“Well, you’ll be in a hotel room, won’t you?”

“I don’t know if we’ll have roommates or not…”

“Well maybe I’ll just have to book a room of my own then,” he said, placing gentle kisses on your neck. “Would you come to visit me?”

***

Taeyong looked at himself in the mirror after he got out of the shower. He sighed, unsatisfied. I need to get back in the gym, he thought. With all of what came with moving from one apartment to the other, he’d been busy trying to get back into his routine.  

Most evenings after work, he was too tired to unpack more than a few boxes. The more he unpacked, the more he wished that he’d hired someone to do this. But he was almost there. It’d been a little over two weeks since he moved in but he somehow found himself living out of the boxes instead of unpacking properly. 

But between the convention coming up and the housewarming he was planning, he needed to put some pep in his step. 

He reached for his new moisturizer, courtesy of their generous employee discount. He heard his phone vibrate on the sink as he applied it but he didn’t bother looking, as he figured it was just a random notification. 

A few moments later, he was sitting on his bed in a pair of shorts. He picked up his phone with a smile as he realized that you were the one who texted him. 

Y/N [9:12PM]: I got your invitation earlier. I RSVP’d with a plus one! 

Y/N [9:12PM]: Btw, do you have a registry?

Taeyong [9:13PM]: You don’t need to buy anything. You guys coming is more than enough!

Y/N [9:16]: I’ll get you something you won’t expect haha

He hated the fact that he’d brought up inviting your boyfriend. But what did he expect? For you to not ask him and for him to not show up? Of course, you’d probably want him to meet your friends. But maybe it would serve as a reality check. Maybe seeing you with your boyfriend together would snap him out of it. Maybe it would snap him out of it so he could realize that he couldn’t have you. Maybe it would be the push he needed to go out on dates so that romance with you wouldn’t even cross his mind.

But, his heart still thumped at the thought of you coming anyway. He couldn’t wait to impress you with his event. He wanted you to taste his cooking. For the past couple of weeks, he’d made note of all the things you mentioned you liked or food he’d seen you eat. So far, it seemed like one of your favorite things to eat was dumplings. And, when you could, you’d opt for seafood. When you went out, he noticed that you’d choose seafood noodles over beef or chicken. He had some ideas of what to put on the menu, for sure. 

He hadn’t had the opportunity to hang out with you outside of a work setting. Sometimes he’d get a drink with you and Hina after work but there was never a time when he hung out with you on a Saturday or a Sunday. It had been about three months since he met you, so he supposed that this wasn’t unusual. If anything, he’d have to tread a little more carefully since he worked with you. He knew that people didn’t always care to be friendly and hang out with their coworkers outside of a work related event, but you struck him as the open-minded type. Hell, you’d opened up to him so much already, which had been a bit of a surprise. 

The conference was also coming up. He was excited to go, in general, but he was also excited to potentially spend time with you. He’d never been on a work trip like this before but he was excited. Kevin was apparently already making plans for them to go out at night, after the conference and team dinner. 

He fantasized about getting you alone, just to talk to you without everyone there. He knew that there was a line that couldn’t be crossed. But he genuinely enjoyed talking to you. There was no harm in that. Even if he sometimes looked at your lips and wondered what they tasted like. Even if he sometimes thought about the sweet things he’d whisper into your ear if he could. Even if he wondered what would happen if you hugged him and he didn’t let you go. After all, there was no harm done in his wonderings.

***

General Taglist: @to-all-the-stories-i-love​ @sweetnspicy-noona​

THANK YOU FOR READING! LMK if you want to be tagged in the next part!

[kerrikins]

New: Righteous Villain or Straying? 

New’s story is deeply tragic and one that a lot of people can empathize with. He’s been put through hell beyond most people’s imagining - first with the disappearance of his little brother and the guilt and fear that came along with it. Then that was compounded with the double loss of his parents, and not only that, all three had one thing in common - they happened when New was not around. 

So, bearing a burden of guilt and rage, New became the hero for the audience, with one target in mind: avenging his little brother. His laser focus became clear as we moved deeper into the story, with New having one goal in mind: find out what happened Non, along with another goal seeming to appear as well: make them pay. With the best wishes of the audience at his back, his path as a righteous avenging hero seemed clear.

Is New straying into dangerous territory, however? 

Let’s think about New’s history before this. His place in the narrative is that of an older brother who has already failed his little brother. They weren’t close and he wasn’t there for Non in his time of need. Part of New’s story is one of absolution and redemption as he wasn’t there for Non and wasn’t a good brother to him in the past. He’s redeeming himself for his wrongs to Non by finding out what happened to him - seeking justice - and possibly making them pay - revenge. 

In this episode, however, we caught a glimpse of something else for the first time… New straying from having Non at the forefront of his mind. Phee asks him if this is what Non would want, and New’s reply is that he doesn’t care. 

In terms of horror, this can sometimes be a mistake. Because it’s different to be killing in the name of righteous revenge vs killing because you want to. In horror the latter is often viewed as straying from the ‘purity’ of the goal and can spell doom in the narrative. 

In terms of New’s personal journey this also matters because now he’s backsliding into the very thing he was supposed to be redeeming himself from - not thinking about Non or making him the priority. If the killings stop being about Non and justice or vengeance for him, then is New still our righteous avenging hero? That's questionable.

Now, there’s some doubt as to whether or not Non actually WOULD want this, and I agree that we don’t know for sure. We did see Non write out his script, after all. 

However when it came down to it, Non stopped when Jin apologized to him. 

We also saw the note that he left behind with Tee, a note in which he said nothing about revenge or anything of the sort. He didn’t express a desire for revenge to Tee himself, either. He was mostly in despair at his situation (which is understandable). So I'd say that we don't know for sure what Non would want at this point (if he was alive), three years out from the original events. He could be desperate for revenge or he could not be, I'd say either is possible. Keep in mind that Non was mostly portrayed as a quiet, gentle boy, and only resorted to violence when he was pushed to the absolute brink.

There was also something else we saw with New’s characterization which I found interesting, and that’s that he wasn’t doing the killing himself. Instead he was trying to get the other person who loved Non to do the killing FOR him - after having told Phee that he wouldn't have to do this in a prior episode. The combination of both going back on his word and pressuring someone else into doing his dirty work for him could be bad, in terms of the typical horror narrative. It's one thing to take revenge yourself, it's another to make someone else do it for you, especially since Phee has actually been portrayed as mostly greyish white rather than straight up grey or dark like some of the other characters.

It will be interesting to see how this plays out, and whether it means that our elder brother will emerge as a sole (or otherwise) survivor, or whether he’s now been doomed due to losing sight of his priorities.

[player1064]

kate for someone reason thinking jamie is homophobic not sure why or how but she does (sara has me obsessed with the idea that they can’t stand each other now lol) and then him introducing her to gary and she’s like 🤯 ft. micah in the corner like you didn’t know he never shuts up about him???

god Kate and Jamie literally CANNOT STAND EACH OTHER!!! I'm OBSESSED with that dynamic tbh!!!!!!! As always. this one is much longer than intended...

Also, don't need to have read it but this is technically intended to tie in to my fic Happy wife, happy life (but tldr Jamie regularly calls Gary his wife partly to keep their relationship under wraps but mostly bc. he finds it funny to call Gary his wife.)

---

“Obviously we’re done for the season right before pride month kicks off,” one of the CBS producers is saying, eyes darting over something on an iPad. “And since you four have been pretty popular we were thinking of including you in some of those ad campaigns, so if I could just get some dates off of all of you –”

“No,” Jamie says immediately.

All three of his colleagues snap their heads up to him, but only Kate looks at him coolly and says “no?”

Micah, because he’s Micah, chuckles and slaps Jamie in the shoulder, trying to diffuse some of the new tension in the air. “Not like you to turn down extra cash, Carra.”

Jamie rolls his eyes, pretends not to notice the way Kate’s eyes are burning into him. “Check my contract. Wish I could, honest,” he says to the producer, feeling very very glad that he had a clause added to his contract specifically so that he doesn’t have to take part in things like this, “But it just wouldn’t be do-able. You lot ‘ave fun, though, with yer rainbows and yer glitter.”

Kate just looks at him incredulously. “This is one thing you decide to take a stand on, mister ‘I don’t care about politics’?”

Rainbows just don’t really suit Jamie, is the thing. Nor does the extra scrutiny that comes from wearing rainbows.

Doesn’t really matter to him what Kate thinks of him, though, so he just shrugs and continues packing up his stuff for the day.

*

“Jamie – Jamie, I finally got onto Raya, can you have a look at my profile?”

Jamie looks up at Micah with a frown. “What the fuck is a Raya?”

“It’s a dating app,” Kate says from her end of the desk, in that unimpressed tone of hers that makes Jamie wonder why she’s bothering to insert herself into the conversation at all.

“An exclusive dating app,” Micah corrects, wiggling his phone in front of Jamie.

“Weren’t you already seeing someone?” asks Jamie, but he accepts the phone with a sigh and puts his glasses on. “I don’t – I’ve never used one of these things, what am I meant to be lookin’ at?”

Micah shrugs. “Didn’t work out,” he says breezily. “How have you never used a dating app, you’ve not been married that long. And look at yourself, you can’t tell me you weren’t a player before Mrs Carra came along.”

Jamie had got around a bit, in his playing days. Not much, mind, because he’d had to be careful, but he’d done alright. Unfortunately – and this is not something he’ll ever admit to anyone, even under duress – any thoughts of that had gone out the window the moment he’d walked onto the Sky campus after retiring.

“You’re right,” he says with a wink, “look at me. As if I’d need an app to find myself a bird. Why’d you want me to look at this, I’m not exactly your target audience. ‘less there’s somethin’ you’re not tellin’ us,” he adds, elbowing Micah and waggling his eyebrows.

Kate looks on unimpressed as the two of them double over in laughter. “Not that any of us would have a problem if you were, right Jamie?” she says haughtily.

Jamie catches Micah’s eye and has to fight back another bout of laughter. “Dunno,” he says, “I can think of one or two problems I’d ‘ave if Big Meeks here suddenly tried hittin’ on me.”

Micah bursts out laughing again, his hand clapping to Jamie’s forearm, and Jamie can’t help but join in – it’s infectious, okay?

“God,” Micah says, wiping a tear from his eye, “can you imagine how your missus would react. I’d never be able to work in television again.”

“Nah, she’d prob’ly send you a fruit basket, thank you for taking me off ‘er hands.”

Kate clears her throat and the two of them sober immediately at the sight of her raised eyebrow. “Maybe cool it with the outdated banter,” she says, “or do I need to remind you boys that you’re not in a dressing room anymore?”

She storms off, he heels click-clicking away as Jamie and Micah look at each other and try (and fail) not to start laughing again.  

*

“You didn’t want to bring your wife to the end of season party, then?” Kate asks politely, looking slowly around the room.

“Huh?” Jamie says eloquently, because he’s had a couple of glasses of prosecco and he’s not thinking as quickly as he usually might. “Oh, the missus. Yeah, she’s here but  – I dunno, she’s a bit shy, like. You didn’t invite Malik?”

Kate rolls her eyes, the way she always does when Jamie mentions her boyfriend. “Well, he lives in America. So.”

“Carra,” an annoying voice calls from just behind him, “Carra, come over ‘n meet Schmeichel? I’ve not seen ‘im in years, d’you know, I think I’d forgot how tall he was.”

Jamie puts a hand on the small of Gary’s back to keep him from bouncing around too much (the man is such a lightweight, it’s embarrassing), and says “I’ve already met Peter, you dolt. I work with ‘im, remember?”

Gary squints at him for a second. “You drag me all the way down to London, and then y’can’t even be bothered to –” he finally seems to realise that Jamie had been talking to someone, because he quickly shakes his head around a bit and holds a hand out to Kate with a smile. “You’re Kate, right? I love what you do on the show, honest, I’m always sayin’ people need to be meaner to James here.”

Jamie thinks he sees Kate blush a bit, like she hadn’t realised anyone else had noticed her dislike of Jamie, but she takes Gary’s offered hand anyway. “And of course you’re the famous Gary Neville, I’ve heard a lot about you,” she greets. “But aren't you still with Sky? What brings you to our little operation here?”

“Scopin’ out the competition,” he says with a wink, then turns back to Jamie. “Carra – Peter?”

“I said no! I’ll talk to him later, stop badgerin’ me.”

“Did you two travel down from Manchester together?” asks Kate, “You know, Jamie seems so invested in my relationship but none of us have ever met his wife, do you know where she’s got to?”

“Ah, his fuckin’ wife,” Gary mutters, smirking up at Jamie. Jamie winks in reply and slips his hand down a bit to pinch him on the arse.

Micah comes over, his tuxedo strained against his biceps, and he pulls Gary away from Jamie to throw an arm around his shoulder in a half-hug.

(Gary squirms a bit at the unexpected contact, but he still gives Micah a friendly pat on the chest.)

“Big Nev! It’s been ages, man – Jamie told us you were coming, but he’s promised that before and not delivered.”

“Been pretty busy, up in Manchester,” Gary says with a shrug, carefully extracting himself from under Micah’s arm and returning to Jamie’s side. “But I’m obliged to do the plus one thing at least two –” (“Three,” Jamie corrects,) “—fine, three times a year, and I figure there’re worse places to be.”

“Aw, you love it really,” Micah says. “I’ve always kind of wondered what it’s like to be a WAG.”

Gary rolls his eyes. “It’s a thankless job, to be fair.” He pokes Jamie in the bicep and adds “I’m going back to talk t' Peter, you miserable old twat. Honest, I’m always talkin' to Scousers fer you.”

“I already know –” Jamie starts to protest, but Gary’s already wandered off. “Ugh. Sorry about ‘im. You can’t take Mancs anywhere, can ya?”

The two Mancs he’s talking to look at him, unimpressed.

“He seemed nice,” Kate says carefully.

“He’s not,” Jamie replies.

*

“Good summer?” Micah asks, their first show back after the break.

“Brilliant,” Jamie replies with a grin. “It were my turn to choose the destination, so –”

“Ibiza?”

He nods. “Ibiza. The house was done just in time, too.”

“You know, I can’t really imagine Gary in Ibiza.”

“Oh, he hates it. Complained the whole time, but he does that wherever we go.”

He becomes aware that Kate is watching them from across the desk, not trying to hide that she’s listening to their conversation with curiosity. Jamie nods to her, all polite like. “Hows about you, Kate, good summer?”

“It was fine, I –” she shakes her head. “Sorry, you’re saying you go on holiday with Gary Neville?”

Micah scoffs. “Who else would he go with?” he asks, and Jamie points to him in agreement.

“I dunno, his wife?”

Jamie blinks.

He thought he’d got all this out the way, dragging Gary along to the party a couple of months ago. Apparently not.

“Gary is my wife,” he says, then suddenly feels very stupid saying that to someone who’s not already in on the joke, so he corrects to “my husband, I mean. Obviously he’s not – he’s a man. Obviously.”

Kate’s eyes are wide, unblinking. She looks between Jamie and Micah, lips pressed together while her brain seems to be buffering.

“You’re married to a man?” she says eventually. “But you’re not gay, I mean – you’re –”

Jamie, who last time he checked definitely was gay, raises an eyebrow, amused. “I’m what?”

“You’re a footballer,” she attempts, and oh, this is far too easy.

“Bit ‘omophobic, that, sayin’ footballers can’t be gay,” he replies, holding back a smirk.

“Oh shut up, you know what I – you’re a lad! You’re always with the banter, and the…”

Thierry wanders over, freshly brewed cup of tea in hand. “What have you two done this time?” he asks, looking pointedly at Jamie and Micah.

Jamie raises his hands to protest his innocence.

“Thierry,” Kate asks, reaching a hand out towards him, “did you know Jamie’s married to a man?”

Thierry rolls his eyes. “Ugh, fucking Neville,” he replies, and goes to sit down.

[nightmaremonarch]

so… im normal, obviously…

Anyways. I have a general idea on how every part of the FNaF (and subsequent related media) animatronics work. The one thing that tends to be a reach in my brain is ANIMATRONICS WALKING.

so here’s my theory/redesign on how this works!!!

(warning, this is a brain dump i wrote at midnight, so it may not be fully coherent! additionally, im not a mechanic nor do i have any mechanic/engineering experience. i just likea da robot)

i find the walking a bit hard to make realistic. around the 1980’s larger animatronics weren’t walking at all, and we’re only recently starting to make good walking robots. historically animatronics have been held in place via stands… so.

with walking, there are a lot of things to be considered. technology constraints, movement systems, balance, etc etc.

for technology constraints and movement systems, we have to look at how animatronics of this time typically function. they are powered by hydraulics (bursts of air), which requires gas and gas canisters. the mechanics of the hydraulics are connected to a computer, which up until recently (when chuck e cheese got rid of EVERY SINGLE ANIMATRONIC 😐) used pre-programmed floppy disks to run their movement.

a walking animatronic (powered by hydraulics, which is a technology constraint of the time) would need all of this to be INTERNAL. so along with all the other internal stuff like the endoskeleton, support layer (typical for more period accurate animatronics), hydraulics, you’re also adding a COMPUTER and a GAS CANISTER. this would, of course, make the animatronics quite heavy.

with these constraints in mind, here’s how i think walking would work. first, the animatronic would need to have its weight redistributed. the computer would be in the lower chest near the pelvic region, since computers are Heavy and it needs as much support and room as it can get.* the gas canisters would either just be stored in the legs, or both the arms and legs, though the latter might result in it being more top heavy which is not what we want.

*additionally, animatronics are large, and children (the target audience) are small. if they have an internal sound system, the sound system would likely come from the computer as well, which basically puts the sound at a child’s level, which adds to the benefit of it being lower in the body.

we need the weight evenly distributed so it can properly balance. it would be easy to just give it wheels or have it shuffle without picking up its feet, but we something that can WALK. so. you know what ill just make a diagram of my conclusion

thank you freddy!

now. this may seem like a simple conclusion. but it took a while for my brain to accept it since it had to consider Every Single Other Factor Beforehand. For Example:

1. how the joints work (the knee, pelvis, abdomen, and ankle are sliding joints, i think is what they’re called…)

2. how they know where to move (like how an npc moves in a video game. they have a predetermined path coded into their computers, and stop when an obstacle is in front of them)

3. how they return to an idle position (instead of stopping the walking code entirely, they run a different code which brings them back to an idle stance instead of stopping them mid walk, which could leave them off balance)

4. how the hydraulics work (gas and servos that control gas output)

5. things that i could’ve potentially gotten wrong (step four of the diagram when the opposite leg swings up, weight distribution, how joints work, etc etc cuz im not an engineer or a mechanic)

6. alternate solutions (“why not servos for all movement?” unrealistic for 1980’s animatronics. “why not ball joints?” cuz ball joints ain’t gonna work here. “why don’t they have some of these features in game?” scott didn’t do research on how animatronics work in 2014. “why can’t they just be powered by the ghosts?” they can, this is specifically pre-ghost, since it’s implied in fnaf 1 and 2 they were able to walk before being possessed. id imagine being a ghost would just allow for control of electrical impulses, which would make the computer essentially useless since controlling electrical impulses means controlling the movement. the gas canisters would still need to be refilled though!)

Okay. That’s all. Let me know if you want to see more (there is always more) or you want to critique this or if you have any ideas. Love you!!! Bye!!!

[braveblackbutterfly]

"One Reason Why I Will Never Forgive Disney For Shortening The Owl House: Luz Deserved a Better Coming Out Moment" A Personal Essay

Happy One Year Anniversary to "Thanks to Them"/season 3 premiere of The Owl House!!!

I wanted to make something in celebration and it got me thinking about a particular moment in the episode, and why it fuels my hatred/disappointment with Disney: Luz's coming out scene.

Early October of last year, fans got to see the first six minutes of the final season premiere of The Owl House. I immediately clicked the link to watch the clip. During the intro montage, I was beyond shocked to see the part where Luz came out as bi and introduced Amity as her girlfriend to Camila.  

I know this show has had a lot of memorable queer moments, but I was still very emotional to see a character, particularly the main protagonist on a Disney Channel animated show come out. However, after watching the whole episode, my initial happiness about Luz’s coming out dimmed. While I’m extremely glad Dana and the crew were able to include Luz’s coming out, it should have been a main plot line in an episode instead of 17 seconds in a roughly 3-minute-long montage.

Why didn’t Luz get a full episode dedicated to her coming out? Because Disney shortened down the third/final season, ending the series with three 40+ minutes long episodes. Because of the limit amount of time to finish the main plot line, it’s understandable why Luz didn’t get a full episode dedicated to her coming out.

So I’m not mad with Dana and the crew.

I’m mad with Disney.

Disney executives strongly disrespected the show, the show creator, the main protagonist and the fans by cutting the final season short. It is all but confirm that they cut The Owl House short because of its LGBTQ content. I don’t believe Disney understand the harmful message this sends to the show’s targeted audience.

Fans have followed Luz’s journey on the show from the very beginning. We got to see her grow as a character and find a chosen family, friends and a girlfriend. For many young fans watching TOH, this is their first time seeing a bi character. It’s important for young people to see bi and other queer characters on TV.   

However, fans deserved to see the whole process of Luz’s coming out. We should have gotten moments of Luz making the decision to come out to her mom, her brainstorming ideas on how to come out, asking her friends for support, and maybe a scene where Luz questions if her mom will accept her. Instead, fans only got to see the very moment of her coming out to Camila with no words said, just the instrumental music playing in the background.  

I know I should be grateful that we even got a coming out scene. A part of me is, but another part of me feels like we got ripped off.

Luz’s coming out means a lot to me because I’m bi. Growing up in the mid-90s through the 2000s, there weren’t really any bi or pan characters on a kid’s TV show like the ones in TOH. So now seeing a show like this as an adult, it just warms my heart to see a bi girl of color get her happy ending which included having an awesome girlfriend and an accepting mom.  

Another reason why I wish we got a full episode is young people (and maybe even some older people) could have shown their families Luz’s coming out journey as a helping guide. Sure, they could show their families the montage, but it would be a lot better if they could show them Luz’s full coming out journey. Maybe their families would have a better understanding and be more accepting when they come out.    

Maybe if The Owl House or a show like it existed when I was growing up, I could have realized I was bi sooner and showed the episode to my family. Maybe then they would have been better understanding and more accepting when I came out. Maybe.

I know Disney executives are never going to see this essay, but I still wanted to voice my feelings about this prominent moment in “Thanks to Them.” Maybe one day Disney will be a little more respectful with future series that includes queer main characters. But until then…

Screw you Disney!

[palfriendpatine66]

My dream is that you one day will write boiling rwrb au

Also I need to know all of your thoughts about the film

RED WHITE AND ROYAL BLUE MY BELOVED!!!!

In summary: I absolutely love it and have so many thoughts. But also I don’t see myself writing an obikin au for it. (Not to worry, I speak autocorrect 😉) Read more below the break

I adore rwrb. It’s my new comfort movie. I’ve watched it three times and I read the book after my first viewing.

The first time I watched in I could NOT believe how gay it was. Honestly I am still twirling my hair and kicking my feet that we get to have a rom com that is just SO!gay. I want more! And I’m really hoping that it’s popularity means we’ll get it

*side note for any of my younger followers: this makes me feel so old. But as a teen in the 2000s there wasn’t a lot of queer media readily available and what was definitely wasn’t showing or marketed toward teens. What I was aware of was adult dramas surrounding HIV/AIDS. Glee and Modern Family didn’t come out until I graduated. Stories like this would have been a game changer

Anyways: back to rwrb. I LOVE that it gets to unabashedly be everything that it is. Is it corny as hell? Yes! Is it tropey and over the top? Yes! Does it read like a fanfic? Yes! Is it fantastic that it gets to be all of these things that every!single! hetero romance/romcom gets to be while basically leading a pride parade through everyone’s Amazon Prime account? YES!!!

A short list of my favorite things about rwrb in no particular order:

All the star wars references in the book. They are nerds and they are my kind of people

Get Low is also my drunk jam. Yes I am the target audience. Yes I am ok with this

There’s a female president and vice president (girl power!)

The sex scene might just be the sweetest, most intimate thing I have witnessed with my own two eyes? It was so tender and so real

There was zero attempt made to pretend that they weren’t just copying the royal family and the fact that the movie leaned into it so hard is absolutely hilarious to me.

They’re also a biracial couple and they don’t shy away from Alex’s experiences as the son of an immigrant to the US (the book does more here)

The key stays on during sex, just hanging there bonking him in the face. 10/10. Hilarious. Kills me.

They do not shy away from gay sex happening and the boys are horny for each other. Like, we don’t just see them kiss once. Again, I’m old, but YES!!!!

I’m cutting myself off here but I could very much go on.

As for the possibility of an obikin au: I’m not going to lie, I thought about it. But I don’t think I see that happening from me.

The first reason is mostly how I write obikin. I don’t write same age aus because I can’t personally separate out their age gap and power dynamic from the other aspects of their canon relationship. I just don’t know how to make them work as peers. (Note: nothing against same age aus, I’ve read many that I’ve adored. I just can’t wrap my head around it to make it happen myself).

Secondly, I kind of don’t want to touch it? I realize I’m basically the queen of looking at a movie and thinking YES, but make it obikin! But I just went on a rant about how this movie/story feels special in that 1) it’s already queer and 2) is allowed to unapologetically be itself. And I don’t know that I want to change that

(Would I read a RWRB obikin au? Absolutely)

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Chapter 3: 2019, North Island Naval Base - Tinkerbell

Chapter 3 Part 2 of You Are My Soulmate

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Description: You've been unable to deny the pull Rooster Bradshaw has on you. But, he avoids you like you're the plague. When a new mission is given to the pilots, you're honored that your team is to be involved. But the new mission brings new challenges, both amongst the teams you work with and their planes. When Rooster flagrantly disregards what you said for safety, you weren’t expecting the pull you've been feeling to go far deeper than you would ever expect it to.

Disclaimers: Misogynistic speech. Mentioned Homosexual Relationships. Angst. Flagrant disregard for protocols or Authority. Angst. Anguish.

This content presented in this story is for audiences age 18 and over only. MINORS DNI. I will not be accepting tag-list requests from Blank or Ageless Blogs for this story.

Warnings: Female!Reader

Word Count: 3792

A/N: Hello, hello! Here's Tinkerbell’s part to the happenings of Chapter 3! Her pain was really hard to write and portray accurstely. In any case, I hope you all love this chapter and feel free to scream at me for it!

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

My Masterlist

Previous Part | Series Masterlist | Next Part

Your mind seems to turn in circles the more you think about it. How could Bradley Bradshaw be your soulmate? Sure he has a gorgeously maintained canary blue truck. Sure he ticks off all of the physical features your soulmate should have. But he's a dick! Your one soft moment with him during the AMDO inspection hasn't changed anything. He still glares whenever he sees you and when you’re with Jake? He’s extra nasty. You’re still not sure what you did to make him hate you so much. If he’s your soulmate, how could he hate you?

You’ve heard first hand how contentious Jake’s relationship had been with him before the Uranium Mission. Is that what this is? Leftover animosity because a pretty girl is close to Jake? Does he not see how happy Jake and Javy are together? They’re so easy to read for you, and you’re sure for at least Phoenix, but it’s hard to know if you haven’t been explicitly told so.

He's a bit of a space cadet whenever you see him following the AMDO inspection. Everytime you make eye contact, he seems to run into something or blush and walk away. Jake takes great pleasure in exploiting this new development, because your best friend is nothing but a dick at the best of times. But even Jake’s fun gets cut short as Top Gun seems to be held in a vice. Rear Admiral Mitchell rarely naps on the sofa in your team’s hangar anymore and all of the admiralty are notoriously short tempered. It’s not the midwinter budget crunch either. You’ve been hearing murmurings of a high profile mission from your friends at the Pentagon, and you have a terrible feeling about what is to come.

When the admiralty assembles your team, the Daggers and the Top Gun cohort in the biggest hangar on base bright and early on a Monday morning, the sick feeling in your stomach intensifies.

“Aviators, following the success of the Dagger Squadron during what we’re choosing to call the Uranium Mission, the Navy assembled the Daggers as a hit squadron. Your mission was to assist at Top Gun and assist the Navy by partaking in all of those missions for which your unique expertise would be necessary. Your specialties are uniquely necessary for this mission. But you alone will not be enough. This is where the current Top Gun cohort comes in.”

“Aviators.” Admiral Mitchell pulls up blueprints and pictures of bunkers located in the middle of a jungle. “These bunkers, aviators, are your target. They’re located just below ground level in a natural depression, surrounded by a Faraday cage and heavily guarded by both ground troops and patrolling jets."

“So what’re we doing, Mav? A bombing run? Why are these bunkers so important?” Phoenix looks intrigued by the prospect. It’s going to be a challenging mission, alright. You can already tell why your team is involved. That Faraday cage is going to be the biggest technological challenge.

“There’s a high-profile US Government informant in those bunkers. They’ve been captured by the enemy and profusely tortured. But we don’t know which building. As the area is heavily wooded and crawling with enemy troops, our air support will scan and identify which bunker the informant is in and laser target the building so the ground team can extract them. But that’s the easy part of the job. The hard part is getting to the enemy facility with miles of heavily patrolled airways between our entry approach and the base itself.”

“Aviators, it will be a dogfight the whole way there. They’ve got 5th gen fighters. Our only hope for survival will be splitting our complement of 16 planes into four teams of four. We’ll have three teams flying single-seater F-18s. Two of those teams will be engaging the enemy in dogfights. The third will be providing air cover for the ground team. The fourth team will be flying at high altitudes in F-15Es equipped with laser sighting and targeting systems. Using satellite imagery, this team will paint the bunker containing the informant with a geo-locked tag.”

“We have to extract the informant before the enemy moves them again. So far they’ve been moving them once a month to another bunker in the area. Our intelligence has confirmed that the informant will be moved to this facility by the end of the month. So we have a few weeks to get the timing right. Failure is not an option.”

Your team already looks ready for the challenge, scrawling ideas down on their tablets while the aviators look at the frankly ridiculous flight plan Admiral Mitchell has pulled up. While you should be doing the same, you’re struck by a couple of things. First, the pure wonder and determination in Rooster’s face. Second, you note how steep the climb is on the F-15Es. The laser sight cannot fail when it’s that high up. Neither can the heat sensors or geo-tag. You can already see the F-15E schematics in front of your eyes as well as potential failure points. You get so wrapped up in your thoughts that it takes Lieutenant Green several tries to jolt you out of your head.

“You alright, Commander?” The hangar’s nearly empty when you smile weakly at her.

“Yeah, Lieutenant Green. I have a few ideas to reinforce the F-15E so it can sustain flight at high altitudes and so the laser targeting and geo tagging functionalities remain stable at high speeds.” Your smile is soft as she excitedly begins chattering on and on.

You spend the next week and half in the hangar, working around the clock on the modifications to the F-15Es. You’re barely eating and sleeping, only years of military training ensuring that you’re presentable. Everything has to be perfect on this mission, especially if he’s going on it, and you know he will. You can’t let anything happen to him. Not to your soul.

It’s a week and a half before the mission when one of the flight crews notice that Lieutenant Bradshaw’s front landing gear isn’t deploying correctly. As the most senior Aviation Maintenance Duty Officer, you add checking out Rooster’s landing gear to your already fully stacked plate. If anything, you push it to the top of your priorities. No soulmate of yours is going up on a training hop with faulty landing gear. Of course, the only time you get to take a look at his jet is at half-past four in the morning. You know the Daggers have been running simulations at six o’clock for the past few days and hope the hour and a half is enough to assuage your worries.

Every joint in your body aches, down to the bone, and you know you don’t look much better than you feel. Your face is drawn and the bags under your eyes are so dark that they’re purple. You’ve resorted to shoving on spectacles just so you can see clearly, your eyes irritated after long hours wearing contacts around jet fumes. Time whizzes by as you slide under his jet and check out every piece. You barely notice the way grease splatters hot on your face, you’re so intent on making sure every part is functioning properly.

The rough “G’morning” you hear startles you out of your meditative work. It is Lieutenant Bradshaw, of course, and his voice sends heat rushing to your face and ties your tongue in knots.

“Lieutenant!” Your voice is a little high pitched as you desperately search for a rag to clean your hands off on. “Good Morning!”

“What’re you doing under there, huh? And so early?" God damn, Naval Aviators are another breed. Standing there in a flight suit, Bradley Bradshaw looks like sin, the baggy flame retardant material unable to hide just how muscular he is.

"One of the ground crew noticed that your front landing gear wasn't deploying to its full capacity yesterday. Before we grounded you for the day, I wanted to check it out and see if I could identify the problem and get it fixed.” You smile at him, but your smile drops off of your face as a frown takes over his.

He’s nearly glaring as he takes in every word that drops from your lips. You know this is an important mission for the aviators, but as far as you’re concerned, Bradley Bradshaw has nothing to be worried about, right?

“Did you find the problem?” His voice is a near growl as he spits the words out, getting into your face. Vitriol, you can handle, even as it hurts your heart.

"Yes, Lieutenant, I did. The hydraulics on the front landing gear aren’t deploying correctly. I’m afraid you will indeed be grounded for part of the day while I get a maintenance crew to swap out the part.” His eyebrows furrow, rage making his jaw sharp as he chews on his words. You can’t bear the rage in his face so you turn to your tablet, checking on North Island’s parts inventory and maintenance roster. As luck would have it, you have both a new landing gear and a maintenance crew available this morning. You’re almost too quick to put in a work order and replacement part requisition form to get him back up in the air.

“I can get a crew assigned, so you should be good to go by mid-morning, Lieutenant.” Your smile is hopeful even as Jake walks into the hangar with the biggest cups of coffee in a drink carrier in his hand.

“Hey, Tink!” Jake must be able to sense how exhausted you are because his Texas drawl is immediately over-exaggerated and goofy. “Your coffee, sweetheart!”

Your grin is a little goofy as you giggle out, “Hey, Jake! Thanks! I’ll come get it in a bit. Give me a few to talk to Lieutenant Bradshaw and I’ll be right there!”

“Of course! Take your time!” Your smile fades as soon as you turn back to Bradley Bradshaw, because the man is glaring at you like you’re everything that’s wrong with the world.

“Lieutenant Commander, that is unacceptable. I need to be out there, flying!” You can feel the anger rolling off of him in waves.

“I understand that, Lieutenant, probably better than anybody. But I can’t replace this part any faster if I did it myself. This is the US Navy. There are procedures that I need to follow.” You’re not sure who you’re trying to placate, him or yourself. Every dirty look he levels you makes you feel like the worst person on the planet.

“Can we at least talk to Mav? See if there isn’t a spare jet or something that I can borrow?” He looks rather like a little boy wheedling for more play time before bed. But you can’t give in to the look in his eyes.

You exhale softly, before pulling up the jet inventory on base. You show him the jets, murmuring, “What do you mean, is there a spare jet you can borrow? This is the Navy, Bradshaw, not a library. As you can see, there isn’t a single jet on base that you could be assigned temporarily.”

But when you look back up, Bradley’s puffing up rather like the one time Jake ran afoul of a rooster at Seresin Ranch. Rage is seeping from every single one of his pores. Just as you open your mouth to reiterate that protocol wouldn’t let you do this even if you tried, he’s spitting words at you again.

“You’re doing this for Bagman, aren’t you?” He’s completely in your face. It takes you far too long to figure out who he’s talking about. Jake?! Where does he fit into this conversation? As far as you know all he did was bring you coffee.

“Why the hell would I do anything for Lieutenant Seresin?” You turn your tablet off and set it on the workbench to the side before turning around and crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Because you want him to get on one of the teams for the mission!” You can’t help the laugh that pours unbidden out of your mouth. That’s one of the most ridiculous things you’ve ever heard.

“Why would I give Jake an advantage that nobody else has?” Bradley just looks at you in shock, swallowing for several moments before turning and charging out the door, muttering “Well, that’s just great!” as he goes.

“The hell was that about, Tink?” You slump right into Jake’s arms, your exhaustion taking the forefront of all your energy as you shrug despondently.

“I dunno, Jake. His front landing gear isn't working and I put in a work order and parts requisition form for the replacement. I told Lieutenant Bradshaw he’s grounded until the maintenance crew is done. He asked me if I was doing this so you got on the mission.” Jake’s face is pinched as he brushes the stray tear off of your cheek.

“Why’re you so worked up over him all the time, huh, sweetheart?” His innocent question sends shame coiling in your gut,

“I-I… I think he’s my soulmate, Jake. I want him to like me so badly, but I think every time he sees me, he thinks badly of me.” You’re blinking back tears with each word. “I just want to be his, Jake. That’s all. I know he’s going on this mission. I just wanted him to be safe when he’s up there.” You sniffle before accepting the coffee. “I’m okay, Jake. I promise. Go fly, flyboy. Be safe?”

You barely catalog the kiss Jake presses against your brow or the flippant salute he gives you as he walks out of the hangar. Your thoughts are a disordered exhausted mess.

You recollect yourself slowly, and are back to normal by the time your team walks in bright and early for their eight o’clock call time. It’s the first stress test of the F-15 E's laser targeting and geo-tagging system at high altitude and the energy is high. Your entire team is strapped into the comms with monitoring equipment on a long table in front of you.

Admiral Mitchell’s call of “Fight’s on!” starts the exercise and you’re captivated by the screaming squeal of the engines as the jets wheel and turn like a flock of metallic birds. The sun streams hot on your head as you and your team feverishly run tests on the new systems. The first aviators up in the F-15Es are the Daggers’ Pilot/WSO pairs. Everything seems to be going well when Halo reports a dead-eye on the laser targeting system. You call for an immediate landing and your team immediately starts analyzing the data as you join them. Partway through, Lieutenant Green turns on the radio and soon enough you have a running commentary to what is happening up in the sky.

Everything is quiet for a quarter of an hour longer when you see a jet come roaring out of the maintenance hangar. You can’t believe what you’re seeing. Is that Lieutenant Bradshaw’s plane? Is he taking off? You know the maintenance crew hasn’t gotten to his plane yet because you’ve been on them about it all morning. You cram your headset back over your head and turn on your mic.

“Lieutenant Bradshaw?! What are you doing?” You know he can hear you, by the heavy breaths you can hear on the other end. But he’s choosing to ignore you.

“Your jet is still not fixed. It’s not safe for you to be up there. Lieutenant!” You’re spiraling into a panic attack. You’re responsible for all the planes up there in the sky today, and all of the pilots in them. Please let him not get hurt. Please.

All of your pleas seem to fall on deaf ears as he takes off anyways and his jet's marker joins the one dogfight team missing a plane. Your heart’s in your throat as you catalog every swooping move his jet makes. Everything seems to be fine and just as you exhale, you hear sirens blaring through the comms. It’s Bradley’s plane. You pull up the monitors on his plane and gasp at the sight of every warning light on board flashing in a discordant harmony.

“Lieutenant Bradshaw, decrease altitude, now!” You’re barking out the words even as the diagnostics show near catastrophic engine failure. The jet nosedives, and you join Maverick in screaming, pleading for him to eject.

“Ejection controls are locked up, Mav! I can’t do anything!” Your heart drops at those words. There’s nothing to be done, not by you on the ground or Admiral Mitchell up in the air.

You can hear the automated voice noting the altitude as it decreases too fast to be real. Then there’s silence. Far off in the distance, you hear a boom as the fuel left in the jet explodes. You feel numb as you shakily tug the headset off and stagger to a corner to throw up. A sharp pain’s taken residence where your heart used to be and the taste of bile clouds every sense. Your legs give out, and the last thing you see before you black out is your team’s shocked faces.

You wake to panicked whispering, the beeping of hospital equipment, and a teary Texan drawl.

“Sweetheart? Sweetheart!” He sounds frantic and his yelling draws the Doctor to you.

“Lieutenant Commander? Do you know who you are? Do you know where you are?” You answer the Doctor’s questions while rubbing at the wrist that is handcuffed to the bed.

“You fainted, Lieutenant Commander, when Lieutenant Bradshaw crashed. Do you know why that could be?” The Doctor sounds perfectly matter-of-fact, but you can’t help the shame you feel.

You can’t meet Jake’s eyes as you whisper, “I think he’s my soulmate, Doctor.”

The Doctor’s intake of breath is sharp as he pulls the nurse to the side and has a flurried conversation with her. You hear the words “soulmate” and “possible” and “bond sickness” but don’t get to hear anymore, because the next thing you know Admiral Simpson is glaring down at you in your hospital bed.

“Lieutenant Commander.” He softens his expression a touch, after a cough from Warlock. “What happened today, Tinkerbell? Can you tell me?”

You let it all spill, including the pain you felt when Lieutenant Bradshaw crashed, and vacantly catalog the emotions flying across Cyclone’s face. You still feel numb and emotionless, like a film is separating you from your emotions.

“Lieutenant Junior Grade Taylor saw you working on Lieutenant Bradshaw’s jet this morning at around 0500 hours. He also overheard an altercation you had with Lieutenant Bradshaw over the feasibility of him being able to fly today.”

You have this sick foreboding feeling in your chest at Admiral Simpson’s words.

“He believes you purposely sabotaged Lieutenant Bradshaw’s jet.” You can’t breathe. Holy shit you’re going to go to prison for severely injuring your soulmate if you don’t defend yourself.

“I…” You cough, your throat completely dry. The nurse spoons a few ice chips into your mouth and you let them soothe your throat before you try speaking again.

“I was examining Lieutenant Bradshaw’s jet this morning, that is correct, Admiral. I have a report from the maintenance crew on shift yesterday during training noting the failure of the front landing gear to fully deploy.”

“So I had the crew pull Lieutenant Bradshaw’s jet into the hangar. The altercation Lieutenant Junior Grade Taylor heard us having were solely because of the jet. Lieutenant Bradshaw wanted to know how soon it would be until he could fly again. I had to inform him that I couldn’t allow him to fly until his jet had been repaired and passed all flight readiness assessments - which I was well within my rights to do, sir. That is when Lieutenant Bradshaw accused me of favoring Lieutenant Seresin and sabotaging him so he would be grounded during today’s flight operations. I was quick to correct his assumption. The next time I saw him was when his jet roared out of the hangar and took off without my clearance.”

Your hands are shaky and your voice is thready and weak as you struggle to sit up in the hospital bed.

“I have the work order and part requisition on my tablet as well as the initial report from the maintenance crew.” It’s so obvious he doesn’t believe you, even as he pulls up the relevant reports on the tablet Jake hands him.

“I see …” Admiral Simpson looks like he’d rather chew nails than concede that you’re not at fault. The Doctor pulls him to the side to brief him on your condition but you know you’re not off the hook. Not yet.

“There will be a full investigation into this incident, Lieutenant Commander. In the meantime, I order you to take one month of mandatory leave. The Doctor suspects you have bond sickness. I’m sorry for assuming that your illness was due to guilt. I have full faith that the investigators will find you not culpable for Lieutenant Bradshaw’s injuries.” You can barely breath as the full weight of Admiral Simpson’s words hit you.

He may not think you’re culpable, but the Navy is notorious for rumor-mongering. Everyone in service will hear the rumors before long. No matter what the investigators find, you’re going to be accused of trying to hurt Bradley Bradshaw, well-known Navy legacy and well-liked man. You’ll forever be known as the girl who tried to kill, and maybe succeeded, in killing your soulmate. When you tune back into the hospital room around you, the admirals are gone and only the Doctor and nurse are left in the room.

The walls feel like they’re closing in, even as the Doctor tells you what bond sickness entails. You already feel the pain and exhaustion and weakness he mentions. Combined with the complete hopelessness coursing through your system, you can barely understand what he’s saying.

With your last bit of energy, you ask softly, “What’s Lieutenant Bradshaw’s condition?”

“His plane crashed at a fairly high speed and exploded when it made contact with the ground. He’s got some burning and a lot of broken bones. We’ve put him into a coma and are monitoring his condition closely. We can’t tell you anything else, I’m afraid. You’re not on his paperwork as his soulmate.” Your heart hits rock-bottom at the doctor’s words.

“He didn’t know before he went up. I suspected, but didn’t know for sure, not until I passed out.”

Jake wraps his arms around you as the doctor’s close the door to your room. Your sobs wrack your body and wet his uniform as you fall apart in his arms.

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