#we're literally less than a month apart in age

[coffeeflavored-tears]

i love having to look up the ages of actors to see if i can call them hot. anyway clarisse la rue gimme one chance pls pls pls pls pls pls pls

[georgegraphys]

I think we have to acknowledge two things and these two things have correlations to each other nor it is fully wrong or right

a) Antonelli is/is going to be a talented driver

b) He is not ready for Formula One right now

Those two points exist and they don't have to contradict each other. Both of them exist at the same time and it's alright.

Kimi is fast. There's got to be a reason why Mercedes wants him (or even if it's just Toto). The pressure on him is immense with the constant yapping made by his team and boss and also the literal expectations people made that "oh he'll beat this, he'll beat that". When George steps in to Mercedes, no one expects him to beat Lewis Hamilton straight away but somehow some delulu people expect Kimi to pull a world championship on his first year.

A person could be really talented. They could be a wonderkid. But when we're talking about Formula One, it extends beyond just being "fast". You need to have the physique, mentality, talent, and connection to be in Formula One. You're going to have to race 24 races in a year, some of them were double headers, triple headers with sprint races and more. Not to mention you got to have the mentality as well to deal with the public eyes on you, the social media spotlight, and some teams' have a crazy amount of PR duties to be done by their drivers. Formula One, in this day and age, extends beyond racing. It is more than racing whether we like it or not.

Mercedes are one of the teams that has a crazy amount of PR work from sponsors for their drivers. It's just 4 months and 9 races in and George already has 31 duties, averaging on 1-2 per races and 1-2 off-race. And all of those were done in between media day, practices or even before and after quali. Sometimes it's so fast paced that he had limited time in some events because he had to travel again to another event in such a short amount of time and you can't say that does not take a toll on someone mentally and physically. It does.

Then apart from the public duties, we have these crazy spotlight from fans, general public, and the media. One bad race, one mistake, one bad radio transmission and they will grill the hell out of it for days, and weeks or even months for the obsessed people. And if you see how it is for F1 athletes on social media right now, it is very easy for them to just throw hate. Fill your comments with threats, cyberbullying these athletes to hell and back, and do other vile things.

My point here is that in these recent years/decade, racing has extended beyond just racing. Whether you hate it or like it, you need to accept that. It is no longer just turning into a race weekend and just racing. Drivers have crazy PR duties ahead of them now, they have crazy spotlight ahead of them. Every piece of their private life is scrutinized. Look at those freak WAG fan accounts on instagram and tiktok. Look at how people dig into a driver's past, family, and relationship. Look at the general media twisting around words and narratives to gain more clicks and milking slight misunderstandings. For someone like Kimi who has yet to a) polish his driving skills fully when people expect the craziest stints out of him b) reach the matured age and is basically still a minor with all these expectations on his back. It is very wise to say that he is not ready for what Formula One is currently and he should be given some time to prepare himself instead. I'm not saying that Kimi would flop like "driver A" or "driver B". He is talented. But the way Formula One works nowadays? You can't just be talented and fast. You need to be ready, physically and mentally. You can pull a Max Verstappen as an example, but F1 in 2015 and F1 in 2025 is DIFFERENT. Things work differently now and you can't refer back to how things work 10 years ago where there are less spotlight.

Not everything needs to be a "gamble" when the consequences can be avoided and you can do it with better ways.

[irisbaggins]

This will contain spoilers, everyone!

(Edit: this was a preliminary attempt to think about timeline, so whilst I will let this stand, I'm not as happy with it as I'd like. This post discusses the one massive thing I overlooked, and is something I'm more confident in. So, regard this as like, an idea about mutation and magic, and not an actual analysis. It's an idea, a concept. Not proper analysis. Although, the idea of mutation and magic extending their lives has much potential. Just...this is not a Take Take, just an exploration)

On the topic of a timeline with Burrow's End, I think is a lot of interesting readings to approach it with. Due to this all being collaborative, timelines can be tricky to navigate, but also fun. Kenji's death is a little tricky, but Geoffrey and Tula's makes sense (at least to me). One of the ways in which it can, with regards to the kids, is the idea that they're slowly evolving to have longer lifespans. Specifically, in regards to Tula and Viola, they would be probably around the mid-life point, yet they act more like 30-40 instead of 50+. This, then, can be used to understand that their lives are slowly extending, where their life phases hit at different times than previous generations.

This is actually sort-of touched upon, with Tula's remark about "Old Big Walmer". In normal stoat terms, he would be much older than Tula, but as Aabria remarks, they're only a few litters apart, and they're not really that far apart in age. This little throw-away gag can, in fact, be the key to solve a little of the age puzzle. Had they been normal, un-evolved stoats, Walmer would've been much older than Tula. But, as they're slowly evolving and becoming much more like humans, they're also getting longer lives. What before may have felt like a decade in difference between two stoats several litters apart, now become less than half of that, maybe. Tula uses terms she grew up with, both to attempt to throw off her mother's attempts at meddling, and as a way to express her own distaste at the idea. Yet, they're not that far apart, she's only expressing ideas that she's heard from other, older stoats.

With this concept, therefore, I think that's what's going on with Lila and Jaysohn. The time of year they're in is slightly debatable, as we never got the actual month, but from Tula's knowledge, it was closer to winter at the start of the story. I suspect, if we're going to stretch the concept a little further (and depending on where the story takes place), we can say they're in the middle of Autumn, perhaps September-October if we're stretching it. Tula alludes to Geoffrey dying in Winter, either early or middle the season. In a rough estimation, if we're taking Aabria's narration of "knowing their dad only half their life" literally, the kids would be around 20 months, double that of normal stoat maturity. However, if we keep the idea of their lifespan being extended, that would extend the time between milestones as well. This could keep the kids still as kids, whilst also keeping to a somewhat coherent timeline.

It would also make sense why none of the others note this weird lack of maturity or age in the kids, because they themselves haven't noticed the change either. They're also having their lifetime extended, which makes it natural for them to not react all that much to such a change. The fact Lila and Jaysohn grew up so slow doesn't really matter, does it, when everything else is thrown into chaos with the death of Geoffrey and who's supposed to lead the Warren. Sure, the kids are being toddlers for way longer than previous generations, but that's just because Tula's fussing over them! (It could also be a symptom of Tula's magic leaking into her kids, extending their lives without anybody noticing. Food for thought)

It can also just be a trait with Ava's bloodline, stemming from the fact that we know she was born outside of the Red Warren, possibly having been exposed to different radiation. We don't know if the others came with Ava and her family, of came and joined them over time. It can also be from when Ava was hit with further radiation the day Kenji disappeared, and that has leaked into her family as well. They are, after all, not normal stoats, and there is so much radiation and magic going on within these stoats that it could be anything affecting them.

I suspect it's evolution and magic causing this trickery in age, meaning that they're all living for much longer than any natural stoat. They're evolving, becoming stronger, smarter. Of course they'll live longer.

It also implies that Ava might not be as old as she appears, but she has decided to be an old lady in her 60-70s, and she will make everyone believe she is closer to 100 just so they will underestimate her. Or let her get away with shenanigans. Nobody can call her out, after all, she's one of the oldest of them.

It does, however, mean for ten or more months, Tula has been a living undead. Half of her kids' life she has been something else. Viola saw Tula change, and thought it was only loss and motherhood that did that. But instead, it was Tula's own death that changed her whole worldview. Everything else affected it, yes, but her death was what tired her out as much as it did. She never got that peace, not that rest, that she longed for. She couldn't, not with her duty. Of course she feels like a fraud by giving Viola advice; hers cannot be compared to someone who's still alive.

It's just interesting to think about, how what may seem confusing at first, makes a little more sense when you take magic and radiation into consideration. Also how horrifying it must be to realise you age differently than your peers due to something in you making you different. Something making you more.

[stuckinapril]

Hey, as someone (woman) with a similar predisposition, I lucked out by meeting my husband years ago, with a similar predisposition. People have called me naive for always expecting others to be good, and so have called my husband. We can't help seeing the best in people, it makes life easier instead of just focusing on the negative, the world is too dark as it is already. And I'll say yes, those statements do apply to some extent, to a lot of people in the general population. When my husband and I met, we'd both been single for over two years after we both left separate relationships with a lot of toxicity and manipulation that I won't get into, but to sum up, it was bad and traumatic. The funny thing is, we both grew up in the same town, and we're less than a month apart in age, which in our town meant hanging out with the same groups of people, but we never "saw" each other until six years ago. Literally, he'd be with his friend group out at a club and I'd be with my friend group out at the same club, and our tables would be right next to each other (I have photographic evidence of this!) and we never realized we were table to table. I knew the people around him, and he knew the people around me, but somehow we never noticed each other once. And there are so many instances of that happening throughout our lives. But I guess the universe or whatever you do or don't believe in thought our paths weren't meant to cross, just parallel each other's for about two decades until finally colliding. Anyway, enough romanticization, I wanted to say, there are good people out there, that are "naive' as others would say, like you (and I) are, and I hope you luck into finding your person. And who knows, they may have been under your nose the whole time, you just never took note.

wow thank you so much. this is such an inspiring story. i’m really glad someone out there thinks the way i do & has actually reaped from it

your story is literally SO cute by the way. y’all sound like star crossed lovers & i adore it 😭😭 thank you sm for this ask you seem so kind

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

The thing about the lamentable downward trend in streaming music sales is -- when I tried to look up where they were going, all the articles I read pretty much said "on smartphones." Even the Atlantic, which I read on and off, quoted an article from Quartz titled "American Smartphone Owners Are Listening to Less and Less Music"

It's not clear to me why this would be happening. I have a few guesses:

"The rise of video on YouTube and other similar sites, like TikTok, drove people away from music, and they're mostly staying there." (A guess about the whole "American culture is heading towards a video monoculture" thing that I feel like I see a lot of people talking about, but not many actual articles.)

("Video works fine on phones, but listening to music, or even talking to someone on the phone, doesn't.")

"I don't know, Americans are increasingly deprived of pleasure."

The point is, it seems like a small class of things that are easily shareable over the internet. People have been sharing photos for years, now they're sharing video, soon maybe they'll be sharing audio. If I'm right about this, music will be the next thing to suffer.

The real problem with this model is that we're not enough years in the future to see that it's true, yet. Maybe, in 10 years, we'll be listening to a lot less music than we do now, because, like, most music is shit, whereas most photographs and videos are worth seeing, or at least worth spending 10 seconds clicking on. But all the data I can see is on the last 12-18 months or so, and there's no real evidence yet of a shift in this direction.

The initial "decline of music" articles (Billboard, investment analysts, etc.) cited something called "Smartphone Music Survey 2018." This appears to be a US survey of US adults (18+), done by Nielsen for the National Association of Music Merchants.

I found a copy of the survey results here on Github. Here are the relevant charts:

So, in the past two years or so, about 15% of the time people in the USA used to spend on the radio, streaming, or CDs is now going to Spotify instead. Note that by "Spotify" in these charts I mean all sources of music combined -- i.e. including iTunes.

I don't know how old the people in these surveys are, but now I'm wondering if it's possible that this is just a shift to Spotify among millennials and Gen Z. My impression is that for people under 40, all that is left of the traditional radio/CD listening market are the very youngest Gen Z and the oldest millennials (people 30-40). Because they don't spend a lot of time on Spotify in those age groups -- the 18-24 male cohort has way more time for Flipnote Studio HD than for, like, streaming.

I feel like I'm getting off topic here, but. . .

Is there really any . . . "class" . . . of people who just . . . watch a lot of video . . . ?

On TV I mean, not on YouTube or wherever.

I don't think I know any such people, and I suspect that most people I know don't know any such people, either. Maybe there is an imaginary internet person who uses YouTube for everything, including news, and for whom videos are a more natural form of expression than text. But I don't know any such people, and I suspect the idea of such a person is mostly a result of not knowing any such people.

If you took out my text posts and my voice posts on Facebook, would you get a more or less complete picture of the "me" from my two YouTube videos? Would you guess the guy in one of those videos and not the other? Would you be able to tell them apart if I edited the relevant audio and video out of them? Could you imitate me to my face? (I think you would.)

I wonder how much of "video as a content format" is just video in the most literal sense of the term, where you see something on a screen, as opposed to a more conversational mode where you get an image of something but it's just in your head.

For instance, here is a description of a "talking head" video:

A "talking head" video is characterized by a shot of the camera focusing on the host's head and face. The speaker looks directly at the audience in a way that typically does not convey that the viewer can see the speaker's face.

I'm pretty sure that I have never in my life experienced the "speaker looking directly at me" variant of the talking head video. (Although I imagine there are a lot of people who do it on Youtube, maybe?) When I read this description, I get an image of someone sitting in front of a blank wall, talking. That's very far from the experience of watching a video.

"On Youtube, people sit in front of a blank wall and type words in the chat" -- what, no, that's not a thing.

I don't know. I think these days I have the impression that talking heads aren't nearly as . . . lively as they are in my head. When I think of Youtube, the image that comes up in my mind is a fixed video of a person on a white background, talking, perhaps gesturing in a way that makes it clear what they're talking about. There is a very distinct impression of "that's not really a video, that's just a picture of a thing, a fixed image, not a moving one." Whereas if I think of a scene from a TV show, it's animated, it's fluid, it's "moving," it has the texture of actual reality.

It seems to me like a lot of what I see on Youtube has this fixed, still-picture-of-a-person-on-a-blank-white-background quality. That's what I'm used to. It's different from videos -- like, on Facebook videos, for instance.

A lot of videos have the quality of a movie, or even a stage play. If you stand in the doorway of your dorm room, you can almost see this Youtuber on a white wall, and even hear his voice, and see his hands. But that's just . . . a picture, a flat image. A moving picture, but still a picture nonetheless. Whereas a TV show has the texture of actual reality, the quality of something that could happen to you, not just things you can see, but things you can feel, smell, taste

[dazycat]

Thoughts on Rookie 5X20

Ok so now we've seen it. Best moments are clearly the domestic breakfast scenes. They are unmatched in chemistry. When we get time with them together. Which has been SO FAR and FEW in between, so brief, so rudely and obnoxiously interrupted by a petty immature Tamara. You can gag me with a spoon all you like as a 15 year old teenage brat but isn't she 18? College age? Can you barf in the corner about their love without literally coming in the middle of them and physically splitting them apart? Pardon me but what the actual fuck?? Grow up and get some damn respect for these adults!

Ok there's that. And we LOVE the mention of the shower, and he then went in the shower and forgot all about the ex coming over. LOL hot, but also Ok lol, tough one to ignore though Tim, cause she's so notable in your history, but he's a guy, maybe as just a GUY he would flake on something like that. OK.

But the bottom line is, we had 5 and half seasons of Chenford working together day after day, fighting, betting, flirting, pranking, challenging each other, and we're not seeing it anymore. They are not ON THE SCREEN like that anymore. So when we get them, it's less than a minute of passing through, and petty teenagers, and there is no time to BUILD THEIR RELATIONSHIP IN FRONT OF OUR FACES AS LOVERS AT LAST. We saw them grow as friends, help each other, save each other, through the years, and now...they can barely show them kissing, and the rest of the show is everything else, police procedural without them in it together. Chenford I'm telling you, made this show, brought it the new viewers and the ratings skyrocketed. If they are going to let Lucy be UC for 6 months at a time - wait let's not even go that far yet. If they are going to show flaky, shallow scenes of them passing through a moment here or there, without SHOWING the PASSION on the screen, I mean built up sustained relationship adult passion (not just making out, not smut, head out of the gutter, but the TIME TOGETHER) showing the conversations, showing those firsts, which are now long past since they've been together for a few months now already - what the hell do you think is going to happen to the ratings? For people who really want to SEEEEEEEEEE Chenford on the screen? Having an actual relationship? Not like...every couple of episodes a 2 minute exchange at the most? Since again, they are not working together every day all the time the way they were when we fell in love with them.

I am emotional and disheartened because they are magic and it is being wasted. It just is. It's not enough. It's not going to sustain the hunger and craving of the shippers of Chenford to just have minutes every other show, without seeing the GROWTH and INTIMACY we want with them. The fun, the banter, the flirting. The time isn't given anymore. It's not there, they are working apart now. SOO deeply disappointing.

And now she's going to go UC and disappear for 6 months at a time? Will we care by the time this happens? Since we aren't there in their alone time to see them continue to fall deeper in love? We're not seeing it anymore. The time isn't given!

I know. I am belaboring. It's simply valid. Any relationship needs time together, including the fans and their ship. They need the time together. It ain't there. It's pining for more, and starving us out.

And so - it's a good reason for a Chenford spinoff...!!! Make it like a Hart to Hart, or Remington Steel. Married partnership PI team, so we can see them working and fighting and bickering and loving each other again, all the time. Cause the crumbs we're getting right now, it's not enough. It's not sustainable. The passion for Chenford was FED by their being together, engaging together, going UC together...being TOGETHER. ON THE SCREEN. ALL THE TIME LOL. IN FRONT OF OUR EYES. It's all off screen now.

So - Season 6 is coming and we need to see them to go UC together. Or do SOMETHING TOGETHER, more to have them ON THE SCREEN, in front of our FACES so we can stay in love with them the way we fell in love with them. Or the ratings are gonna crash. They just are.

Cause Skip tracer Randy? For me, a dud. Sorry just is. Tamara? Whatever, go to college, go away. Found family is sweet, but not brats who are immature and don't allow respectful room for a loving intimate relationship. Bye Tam.

Nolan and Bailey? You have to be kidding me right?

I love Lopez and Harper but I don't know that they can sustain the show on their own.

It's unraveling and I'm super sick about it. I love this show, I love Chenford, I love the cast. But it's...not being kept together well. PRAYING for a better writing team and vision for next season. Cause the direction is not good.

I love you Eric Winter and Melissa O'Neill, you're amazing. I hope you're not wasted and at least a show is born from you two. You deserve that, and television deserves that. We your Chenford army deserves it. Hoping it happens.

And that's my after Rookie 5X20 rant. Next week a crossover event with the unbelievably boring Rookie Feds, lol. Ugh sorry - the ratings tell it, it's not just me. Fan fiction is keeping Chenford alive at this point. And the stunning hotness of the actors who portray them so well. Cause it's all Chenford all the time in fan fiction land, that's why they thrive! Not like the show, 2 minutes of Chenford crumbs, with no meat, growth or extended exchange.

Truly bummed out...

Tim is more worried about the UC for Lucy than he's letting on by the way. It was a sweet moment on the couch. But...they feel so far away to me. I haven't seen them talking a lot or doing anything together since 5x12. God and remember 5x8? All that talking, sorting of problems, and asking questions and looking at each other longingly? Yeah I know..they were on patrol together, had the time.

EXACTLY. Exactly...the TIME was given, on screen. To talk. TO connect. To discover each other and for us to be there in that journey. Sigh, it's been taken away now, I don't know what's happening with them anymore.

Off to write chapter 8 of Kink, thanks for taking any time at all for my little blather.

[johnsamericano]

𝔖𝔲𝔤𝔞𝔯 ℜ𝔲𝔰𝔥 𝔧.𝔧.𝔥

Hi everyone! As promised, here’s one of the two most voted fic continuations. There will be more chapters to this story though I'm not sure how many yet. Thank you for reading!

warnings: sugar daddy jae, mentions of injuries and hospitals, language.

taglist: @thoreeo @trustmahluv

Sugar rush m.list.

The machine monitoring your father’s heartbeat was the only sound filling the quiet hospital room, where your once healthy father laid unconscious, his perfect, chiseled cheeks adorned with cuts and bruises. Would they leave a mark?

The machine monitoring your father’s heartbeat was the only sound filling the quiet hospital room, where your once healthy father laid unconscious, his perfect, chiseled cheeks adorned with cuts and bruises. Would they leave a mark?

The machine monitoring your father’s heartbeat was the only sound filling the quiet hospital room, where your once healthy father laid unconscious, his perfect, chiseled cheeks adorned with cuts and bruises. Would they leave a mark?

The machine monitoring your father’s heartbeat was the only sound filling the hospital room, where your once healthy father laid unconscious, his perfect, chiseled cheeks adorned with cuts and bruises. Would they leave a mark?

The machine monitoring your father’s heartbeat was the only sound filling the hospital room, where your once healthy father laid unconscious, his perfect, chiseled cheeks adorned with cuts and bruises. Would they leave a mark?

Where did everything go wrong?

Your string of thoughts was cut off by a call from your aunt.

Your string of thoughts was cut off by a call from your aunt.

“Hello?” Your voice was raspy from not using it. There was no one to talk to in the quiet, hospital room but the nurses, who weren't especially keen on chatting.

“How’s your dad, sweetie?”

“They let him out of ICU, but he doesn't look good to me.” Your fingers traced the cuts in his chiseled cheeks that would soon turn into scars, ruining his perfect skin. Your eyes then diverted to his head, thoroughly covered in bandages to protect his damaged skull.

“Honey, I've got bad news...”

“They rejected the case, didn't they?”

“Not precisely.” She deeply inhaled before continuing. “It’s a tough case, almost impossible to win, nonetheless, they're willing to take it. But their fee is a little...”

“Expensive.”

“Yes.”

As expected from the best firm in town, they wouldn't take less than $8,000. Your bank account didn't have enough money to even cover half of it, and with your job at the convenience store, you'd only earn so much to cover your expenses.

“We can take the lawyer that the government provides us with, it would be free.”

“But then I'm sure we’d lose.” You groaned in frustration, using your free hand to rub your forehead. “Don’t worry, I'll find a way to get the money.”

“Why don't we just accept the compensation they're offering? It could pay for the hospital bills and you'd still have some left to pay for your tuition.”

“That would be like putting a price on my father's life. I don't want their money, I want them to make themselves responsible for what they've caused.” The sound of wheels approached the door of your father's room, signaling the nurse was outside with his meds. “It’s okay, Auntie, I'll take care of everything. You can go back home, I know my uncle isn't doing so well.”

“Are you sure, darling?” It was undeniable that she wanted to head back to her little ranch fat away from the hectic city life to take care of her sick husband, but still, her brother was laying down on a hospital bed, fighting for his life.

“Yes, I'm an adult, I'll find a way.”

“Take care of yourself, and don't hesitate to call me if you're having any difficulties. I'll be there in the blink of an eye.” She said before sending a kiss into the speaker, proceeding to hang up.

You sighed. It was never usual for you to ask for help, as you were an extremely prideful and independent person, and you doubted this time would be different.

“Don’t worry, dad. Everything will be alright.”

Three failed job interviews and one more to go. Your feet were killing you, the high heels covering them already worn out from walking to avoid taking the bus. Every penny counted, and as long as your legs worked, you weren't spending any more money than what was necessary.

You sat down in the waiting room of the company, massaging your neck to relieve some tension. College was becoming a burden. Maybe you'd take a semester off to focus on working, that is if someone wanted to hire an inexperienced student.

“Y/n, Y/l/n?”

“Here.” You darted up, gathering your belongings to enter the room on which your life almost literally depended.

You gave all the right answers, earning a polite ‘we’ll contact you’ in return. But you could see that they weren't convinced with your lack of experience, no company in their right mind would be.

As soon as you arrived at your apartment, you slid out of the uncomfortable pencil skirt, tucking yourself under the covers with your phone screen almost hitting your nose.

To take your mind off things, you decided to watch some videos. Halfway in, an ad popped up, interrupting the interior deco video you were watching.

A picture of a girl about your age hugging an older man was right in the middle of your screen. Written with fancy letters, the words ‘make your life simpler’ could be read, followed by what you guessed was the title of the app. Sugar rush.

Out of pure curiosity, your finger tapped at the small icon that led to the app store, absentmindedly clicking the download button. A few seconds later, an icon with the letters ‘SR’ was added to your home screen.

“Log in?” You murmured out loud, squinting your eyes to adjust your eyes to the bright, white homepage.

Just as you were about to click out, the phrase from the ad reappeared, stopping your finger from moving any further.

You could always delete your account if something went wrong, right? Nonetheless, you decided to use a false name, and that's how Melanie Kim’s profile was created. You left the circle of your profile picture empty for now, only filling the spaces that asked about your likes, dislikes, age, and all that stuff that people care about so much.

You knew what the app was for, but that didn't stop you from being surprised when a list of men and women of different ages greeted you. Right then, a small rectangle obstructed your sight, two buttons offering opposite things.

‘Pick the role you'd like to develop.’

Sugar daddy/mommy / Sugar baby.

Clearly, you didn’t have nor the money or the years to be the first, so you clicked the opposite button without giving it more thought.

‘Welcome. You've been registered as a sugar baby at Sugar rush. Meet thousands of men and women willing to finance you for free!’

You hummed.

‘As we're always looking to make our users’ experience better, we've developed Sugar Rush premium, a membership to meet the richest and hottest people in your surroundings. Get the premium version for only $5.95 a month. Click here to get Sugar Rush premium.’

Your finger pad was dangerously close to the blue button, almost grazing the screen of the phone. It was then when you were pulled out of your trance, blinking as if just then you'd realized what you were doing.

“I must be crazy.” You turned off your phone, not bothering to turn on an alarm for the next day. You had no interviews left. You had nowhere to go.

Waking up was getting harder with every passing day. Not being able to call your dad to go out for breakfast or even sending a simple good morning message hurt you deeply. You missed him. But seeing him laying down on a hospital bed, unable to do anything by himself, was even worse.

Ding

A notification filled the silence in your room.

‘Come back, you haven't finished setting up your account yet!’

You scoffed at your past self. What were you even thinking when you downloaded the app?

You simply turned off the phone before standing up to take a relaxing shower. As the water soaked up your tense body, your mind started wandering off back to the app. A million what-ifs filled your head, nonetheless, there was one that remained the most persistent.

‘What if this can pay for a lawyer?’

Your part-time job surely couldn't, and you had no one to assist you financially speaking. The whole idea of paying that ridiculous membership seemed more tempting as your fingers started getting wrinkly under the showerhead.

You decided to take some time to consider it, after all, you still had a week to give the lawyers an answer.

Hot soup seemed like a good option to comfort you, and thankfully, there was a store right in front of your place that claimed to sell the best soups in town.

It wasn't bad, but not nearly as good as the one your dad cooked when you were a kid. You sighed, wondering if you'd ever be able to eat it again. Just then, a woman about your age came into the shop, carrying a couple of bags where names of popular brands could be read. A pinch of jealousy made your heart stir as you glanced at yourself through the reflection in the glass at your side. You looked devastated, your skin pale and your cheekbones slightly sunken, a sign of the lack of rest and food you'd been getting.

Out of pure impulse, you pulled out your phone, clicked on the app you'd recently downloaded, and finally accepted the charges for a premium membership.

‘Welcome, new member of our wide community, click ok to get started!’

Well, no turning back now.

Right after pressing the blue letters with your thumb, you were presented with a list of potential prospects, some of them including pictures, some of them only including name and a brief description of what they were looking for. The minority included their ages, but most left the space blank.

A bunch of old men looking for a youthful, pretty woman to be by their sides, some of them even went as far as writing the weight and height their ideal partner should have. Of course, there were also some women in the look for young meat, but the number of men overpassed them.

About to exit the app in defeat, a profile caught your eye. His pale pink hair was parted, allowing his thick eyebrows to stand out. His high cheekbones made him look like a statue, the details in his face almost too perfect for a mere human. He must be the incarnation of a Greek God, you thought.

‘Jung Yoonoh. 41 years old. Owner of N & C.’

“Should I...?” You asked yourself in a voice lower than a whisper.

He has probably gotten hundreds of messages, so what would be the point of sending one yourself? Your eyes scanned the picture over and over again as the remains of your soup started getting cold.

He was probably the only acceptable man in the whole app, so why not give it a try?

You already spent five whole dollars on it, might as well make it worth the money.

‘Hi.’ Sent.

“Holy crap.” You breathed out, regretting every single action that led you to take such a stupid decision. “Ah!” You squeaked as three small dots appeared beside his profile picture, signaling he was writing a reply.

What if he rejected you right from the beginning? God, that would be so humiliating. His message stopped your train of thought.

‘Hi!’

Followed by:

‘How are you?’

Sweating like a pig, thank you for asking.

‘Fine. You?’ Read.

‘Thrilled. No one had messaged me since I created my account two weeks ago.’

‘How is that possible?’ You imprinted your thoughts on a message.

‘It’s hard to trust people nowadays. I guess people might think either my picture is photoshopped or I'm lying about my job.’

‘Their loss, ig.’ Read.

He was taking some time to answer. Had you said something inappropriate?

‘Hahaha.’

The conversation stopped there, as you didn't know how exactly to answer his message. But a few minutes later, another text from him popped up at your chat.

‘If you're okay with it, we can start talking about a possible arrangement.’

Already? You've known each other for like five minutes. But then again, arrangements were the whole purpose of the app.

‘Sure.’

‘May I ask your reasons for joining the app?’

‘I need urgent money, but my job doesn't pay nearly enough.’ You omitted the part of your agonizing father, he didn't need to know that. ‘And you?’

‘I need someone to be my partner at public spaces.’

‘Alright.’ Read.

‘Do you happen to have some free time tomorrow at lunchtime? I think it’d be better to meet first before making any decisions.’

‘Yeah, I'm free.’

‘Great, I’ll send you the address.’

You thought a day would be enough to prepare yourself, but time passed by quicker than usual, and soon enough, it was time to get ready for your meeting with Mr. Jung. He was only a few years younger than your father, and calling him by his first name wouldn't feel right.

Unsure if you should wear something formal, you threw on a beige (the color you'd agreed on wearing so it’d be easier to recognize each other) summer dress, pairing it with the gold hoops you'd inherited from your grandma to make it look more elegant.

The hardest part of your routine was makeup. Your sunken cheeks couldn't be covered, and only after a few layers of blush and highlighter, you could bring your skin back to life.

On your way to the cafe, you went through the things you'd say when you met him. It was your chance to get your father what he needed.

You stood at the entrance with wide, scared eyes, shyly scanning through the place to look for your date.

“Melanie?” A hand on your shoulder had you jolting. “I’m Jung Yoonoh, nice to meet you.”

What you saw after turning around was breathtaking. A handsome, healthy man, with the most beautiful pair of dimples.

“Nice to meet you.” You managed to blurt out without stuttering, extending your hand to make the greeting more formal. The fake name didn’t seem necessary anymore. “It’s actually y/n, I didn't want to use my real name.”

“I understand. Let’s take a seat.” He offered with a kind smile.

He left you seating at the terrace while he made your order, a latte, and a chocolate cookie. Your fingers played with your hoops anxiously, trying to regulate your breath.

“They’ll bring our food in just a sec.” He offered a warm smile. “Your dress is pretty.” Yoonoh said out of nowhere.

“Thank you.”

“I see you're not a chatty person.” You were about to object, but he started speaking again. “It's not a bad thing! I usually talk a lot, so it’s a nice way to balance things.”

You nodded, seemingly uncomfortable with the man sitting in front of you.

“So, uhm, this is my first time doing this, so I'm not really sure where to begin.” He pulled out a folded paper from the front pocket of his dressing pants. “It’s a bit creased, but I can always print another one. I brought it so you could take a look and let me know if you wanted to change anything. I don't mean to pressure you, but you said it was urgent, so...”

You read the paper under his attentive gaze, making sure not to miss a single word. Everything seemed correct, except...

“Six months?”

“Is that too much?” A small wrinkle formed between his eyebrows, a sign of deep concentration. “Okay, so let's do this instead.”

He took back the contract, pulling out a pen from the pocket in his dressing shirt to correct the original stipulations.

“Four months, and if by the end of them you don't absolutely hate me, we can extend the time. Deal?”

“Just one more thing.”

You cleared your throat, conscious that your following words might jeopardize the whole arrangement.

“Are you sure you want to make it official already?” You had to stop for a moment as the waiter left your orders on top of the wooden table. “I mean, it's not that I have a problem with it, but it's your money and maybe you'd like to give it a better thought.” You resumed.

“The fact that you're concerned about me proves I'm making the right choice. Now, tell me, how much would you like to receive as a weekly allowance?”

Would it be too reckless to ask him straight up for the $8,000?

“H-how much are you willing to give me?” You felt dirty, accepting a stranger’s money like that.

“Whatever you need.” His hand suddenly reached forward to yours, causing every ounce of blood in your body to rush to your face. “There’s no need to be embarrassed, I'm here to help you.” His voice tone dropped, acquiring an almost soothing feeling.

“I need eight thousand by Thursday, next week.” His eyes were wide open, mouth having difficulties remaining closed. “I-I know it's too much, but...”

“I can find a way to give you that money, but I'd like to know the reason why you need it. Just to make sure it's nothing illegal.”

You puffed your cheeks, trying to find an excuse good enough to justify the amount of money you were asking for.

“It isn’t illegal, is it?”

“No!” You retrieved your hand from below his, now embarrassed at the possibility of him having a bad image of you. “I need it for my father.”

“I suppose you don't want to talk about it.” He started at his palm, lips pressed in a thin life. “But when it comes to arrangements like this, we need to trust each other, alright?” You barely knew each other, yet, he demanded to know a very personal detail of your life. Not that he didn't have a good reason for wanting to know, it wasn't a particularly small amount of money.

“He had an accident at work...” You started, fearful of looking up to find pity in his eyes. “I need a lawyer to make his company legally responsible. They intend to throw it under the rug and pay a somewhat decent amount of money to make it go away. The firm I intend to hire is supposedly the best in town, probably my only chance of getting justice.”

“And why don't you just accept it? There's no guarantee that your lawyer will win the case.” You fisted the delicate fabric of your dress, eyes watering as you tried to hold back your anger.

“My father’s life is priceless, and if you think what I'm doing is a waste of money, then fine, we can both look for someone else to help us.” It sounded more aggressive than you'd first intended, but you meant every word that came out of your mouth.

Before you could even stand up, his slim fingers had already wrapped themselves around your wrist.

“I never said that.” He whispered with an almost sad tone. “Come on, sit down.”

He tugged at your arm the slightest, showing off his charming dimples once again.

“I’ll give you the money on one condition...” He raised one of his thick eyebrows. “I’ll go with you to see the lawyer.”

“Why...?”

“That’s my condition, take it or leave it.”

“Okay.”

The days before your meeting with your potential lawyer were nerve-wracking. You'd seen Yoonoh another time to sign the contract, which finally made your arrangement official.

You’d visit your father every day, always hoping he'd be sitting with his arms wide open, ready to hug you. But nothing had changed ever since he first came into that room.

“I’m here to see Mr. Kim.” The secretary's gaze lingered on Jaehyun a few seconds before he finally snapped out of it. “Y/n Y/l/n.”

“Just a second.” He opened his agenda and quickly found your appointment. With a warm smile, he guided you through the corridors of the building, all the way to the elevator. “It’s the only office on the last floor, I'll be at my desk if you need anything.”

Once again, he shot Jae an uneasy glance before the metal doors slid close.

“What was all that?” To be honest, you couldn't care less. But a small chat might calm your nerves and prevent you from throwing up all over the place.

“What do you mean?” He grinned, pressing the button to the top floor.

“You know what I mean.” You scoffed, annoyed at his evasive behavior.

“We just happen to know each other, nothing special.” Before the conversation could continue, a loud ding resonated through the metal cubicle. “Let’s go.” His hand found its place at the small of your back, pushing you towards the glass door. Through it, you could see a black-haired man reading a pile of documents, occasionally raising a photo to examine it with his gold-rimmed glasses supported at the bridge of his elegant nose.

Jaehyun extended his arm over your shoulder to knock on the door, earning an almost annoyed ‘come in’ from the man inside.

“Let’s go.” Once again invading your personal space, he reached for the doorknob with you trapped between his arms.

As soon as the door opened, the man raised his eyes from the documents he was checking.

“What are you doing here, Jung?”

“I knew something was off...” You murmured, loud enough for the man at your side to chuckle.

“I brought you a client, you should be happy.”

“Miss y/n, I suppose. Have a seat.” His demeanor completely changed while speaking directly to you. “I spoke with your aunt last week, she explained the details of the lawsuit, but I must say, it isn't an easy case.”

“I know that, but I've been told you're the best firm in town, I know I'll have more possibilities of winning if you're my lawyer.”

“Best firm in town my ass.”

“Be silent or I’ll kick you out of the building.”

That was enough for Yoonoh to zip his mouth. For a while at least.

“I suppose she also told you about our fee.” He pushed his glasses up using his thumb. “We’d also keep 25% of the lawsuit money assuming we win the case, is that okay with you?”

“Yes-”

“Okay, stop.”

“I’ll call security, Jung.”

“Look at me, y/n.” He squeezed your arms. “This clown is trying to scam you...” He pointed his finger at the lawyer without breaking eye contact. “You’d be spending loads of money for someone who isn't even confident in his abilities. It isn't worth it.”

“And I suppose you'd do better than me, then.” The black-haired man scoffed. “If that's the case, then you can both leave. I'm quite busy at the moment.” With a turn of his wrist, he signaled you to leave the room.

You were fuming, stomping out of the building with Jaehyun right behind you.

“I found a great restaurant nearby, we can go there and-”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Calm down-”

“Don’t tell me to calm down when you just fucked up my only chance to give those bastards what they deserve.” The sun was starting to set, yellow light casting shadows over his tender cheeks.

“Can you listen to me for a second?”

“Are you laughing right now?” You bit your lip, hard, trying to hold back the tsunami of tears threatening to come out of your eyes. “Asshole.”

“Ouch.” He furrowed his eyebrows mockingly. Oh, how close you were to punch that pretty face of his. “Can I explain now?”

You remained silent, staring at the ground with the smallest frown between your eyebrows.

“How do you think I know Kim Doyoung?” Before even giving you a chance to answer, he continued. “That son of a bitch has been stealing my clients for ages.”

“Your clients...?”

“He isn't even that good of a lawyer compared to me.” He scoffed with fake arrogance.

“You're a lawyer?!” You slammed your palms into your face, whining at the newly acquired information. “Why didn't you tell me from the beginning?”

“Just wanted to swing by and annoy him a bit. Don't worry, I wasn't gonna let you accept his deal.” He winked playfully.

The sun was now hidden, the sky darkening as the moon rose to take its shift.

“Though I gotta say, I'm kinda offended I wasn't even an option. I'm a pretty great lawyer, you know?”

“Sorry.”

“I’ll forgive you if you join me for dinner. What do you say?”

As you walked into the darkness of the streets, his shoulder occasionally bumping yours, you wondered if meeting him was a casualty. Maybe the world was finally smiling at you.

[dylanobrienisbatman]

The main problem with the whole mal vs the darkling thing in regards to being possessive (or really when it comes to any of their traits) is the fact that throughout, the darkling is clearly framed as the villain and his actions reflect that, whereas Mal as supposed to be the good guy and best romantic partner for Alina, and yet he has all these awful character traits and tendencies. So its less about how awful the Bad Guy is (since he's supposed to be), and more about how awful the person that we're supposed to believe is the best option for Alina is. I don't ship either, just my two cents.

Okay well... two things. First, your comment about "its less about how awful the bad guy is, since he's supposed to be", takes every comment I've made about Darkles out of context, which seems fitting since everything Darklina's spout about Mal is out of context. Him being the Bad Guy is fine, and if you like him AS A VILLAIN, and acknowledge all the bad shit he does, then my posts aren't for you. I think he's a very interesting villain, and a lot of the terrible shit he does that I have to keep making posts about make him a good villain, the problem is when the terrible shit the "Bad Guy" does is romanticized and viewed as the reasons why Alina SHOULD have picked him. So, don't assume everyone gets that "hes supposed to be awful". The point my post was making is that Darklina's love to call Mal possessive, but then turn around and act like Darkles literally enslaving her in somehow sexy and romantic. It's fucking not, and it's transparent as hell that y'all romanticize and sexualize the actually possessive character, and then project false character traits onto Mal. It's so transparent, it's almost funny.

But, more importantly, to your second, very wrong point, I wonder how much of the narrative about Mal having "awful character traits and tendencies" is actually a commentary on Mal as a character, or is it just Darklina's lying about things Mal has done and everyone accepting that misinterpretation as canon. Because, if were making a list...

Fuck boy - False! Mal was not a fuck boy! He was an attractive teenager who hooked up with consenting girls his age when he could, and he was not in a relationship during that time. Alina had never told him how she felt, so he is not beholden to her. (Also, nobody seems to have an issue with the fact that Darkles hooked up with Zoya in the show, that doesn't make HIM a fuckboy... interesting) (also also, nobody seems to discuss Darkles literally sexually assaulting Alina, and lying and manipulating her to get her to be physically intimate with him so he can use her... double interesting).

Slut Shames Alina - FALSE! The ever favourite callout line from Darklina's "He's all over you" isn't him slut shaming her. First, he has no idea what their relationship is like at that point, but more importantly, he is making an observation of her status in the little palace and how she has become his tool. He has dressed her up in his colors, made her put on a show for his benefit, and has created a situation where Alina appears to be his. Mal is noting that after months of searching for her, believing she was being hurt, tortured, or worse, when he arrives to save her, she looks like the Darkling's pet. (and, even if he WAS angry because he perceived them to be romantically involved, boy just spent months fighting for his life, lost multiple friends, and almost died to find her, all while coming to the realisation that he was in love with her, and then he shows up, after not hearing from her for months... I'd be pissed as hell too.) Important Note: He even acknowledges that what he said was wrong and tries to apologise, before Alina tells him that he was right. (Shadow and Bone, pg. 286). He also then apologizes, completely unprompted, for what he said. (Shadow and Bone, pg. 297).

Fat Shames Alina - False! This one is particularly laughable to me, because its one of the Darklina arguments that falls apart the second you actually read the scene. They are running for their lives in the forest, and Mal has to hunt and gather to feed them. He is noting that Alina's appetite has increased since he last saw her, and he makes a joke (ya know, how you do with friends) about how it would be easier to keep her fed if she still had her more meager appetite from before. He makes no comment on her weight, or her size, and he is not actually commenting on her appetite in a negative way, he is just acknowledging that it's a lot more work for him now that she eats more. Right before he says the line, the quote even proves that he isn't shaming her or thinking badly of her: "With a bemused expression, he watched as I gobbled down my portion and then sighed, still hungry". He is noting a change in her, and complaining that its made more work for him. If you think thats the same as fat shaming, well... thats a you problem.

Hates Alina's Powers - FALSE!!!! How to begin... do we talk about it was Mal's idea to hunt the stag in S&B, because he knew she needed it to be more powerful so she could stop the darkling? Do we talk about how he vowed to find the firebird for her, even though he was terrified of what all that power would do to her? Do we talk about how he literally died so she could achieve the power she needed to save the world? Or maybe we could talk about how he believed in her power more than anyone else, like when everyone was making bets about her abilities with the Cut and he knew she'd go further and better than anyone else expected her too, or when he tells her that he was never afraid of her powers, only what seeking all that power would do to her (which is literally the theme of the books, that power corrupts and seeking unmatched power can destroy you)? Mal being afraid of what is going to happen to Alina, being protective of her and worrying over her, is not the same as him hating her powers. He exists to help remind Alina of the themes of the story, and to guide her into maintaining her humanity.

Abusive - ... Do I even need to explain this one? Must I deign an explanation as to why this favourite Darklina lie is so fucking stupid, and also totally hypocrisy? No? Because we all know Darkles is actually the abusive one and they're trying to project their own shit onto Mal to further their abuse apologist agenda? Cool. Moving on.

Possessive of Alina - False! Throughout the entire series, Mal is quite literally the opposite of possessive, but yall just cant read. Not only does he quite literally step out of the way and allow Nikolai to court Alina without argument, which is the most direct example of him not being possessive, he also spends two full books believing, and repeatedly saying over and over and over, that they can't be together because he is not good enough for her. Mal believes, fully, that Alina deserves more than him, better than him, because he's just a tracker and a soldier, just a regular man with nothing to offer her but his love and his protection, and she is a Saint and should be a Queen. Possessiveness is the wish to own and control someone, it is literally the opposite of Mal believing that he's not good enough and doing everything he can to ensure that Alina achieves everything and gets everything he believes she is owed. A possessive character would not tell her to tell him to leave because he has nothing he can offer her, no title or land or country or crown. A possessive character would not promise to be the blade in her hand, because he believed he had nothing but the blood he could spill to offer her.

Angry - True! Yeah, omg, you caught us, Mal is ANGRY! Heaven forbid a teenager who is traumatized beyond belief and has to give up everything in his life, his position in the military (he deserted for her), his friends and the job he loved (Mikhail and Dubrov died for him, and he can't be a tracker in the army... because he deserted... for Alina), and, most importantly, he has to give up Alina (she should be Queen, he believes, and he has to give up the future he imagined with the girl he loves, who he was pretty sure loved him back, because she's a saint and queen and he's just a man), and more, is ANGRY. He has to be the one to find the amplifiers that he knows will end up hurting her, because thats what she needs to save the world. He has to sit by while Nikolai treats him like the dirt on his shoe and tries to woo Alina for his own personal gain (because Nikoalai did not love Alina. Maybe he came to care for her, but he proposed and spent all of S&S trying to get her to marry him when it was obvious they were not in love. He straight up says its so that the next King of Ravka can be married to the Sun Summoner. It's a power grab.) and he can't do anything about it. So yeah, Mal is angry. And yeah, sometimes he's even angry at Alina, just like sometimes she's angry at him. But they always find their way back, always apologize and try to be better for each other, and if you think anger is a toxic trait, and not simply a natural human emotion, might I suggest touching some fucking grass?

Idk why you thought I'd stand for Mal slander on my blog, cuz I will not. So, I'm gonna stop there, because I have shit to do today, but I really do wonder how much of Mal's 'toxic' or 'terrible' traits, that make him such a 'bad' love interest for Alina, really comes from Darklina's who refuse to actually read the text critically at all, and instead take everything he does and says out of context to further their agenda that Alina should have ended up as the Darkling's fucking slave forever, because thats the "girl power feminist" ending somehow. Mal supports her, loves her, sacrifices for her at every turn, and does everything he can do, to the point of literally dying for her, to ensure that she can defeat Darkles and save the world. He protects her, and when they end up happy and safe together on the orphange that they've rebuilt to help the children that were victims of Darkles war and genocide, he spends his days bringing her tea and cakes and flowers, kissing her silly under the stairs in the view of all the teachers, and calling her names like beauty, beloved, cherished, my heart for the rest of their ordinary life together, if love can ever be called that.

[bakugohoex]

Could I request a jean and s/o birthday thingy my birthday is in a few days and since we're in a lockdown again I can't see my family I read a lot of your writings and they're all awesome it would really make me happy if you could write one for me 🙈

“happy birthday, baby”

pairing: jean kirschtein x female reader

cw: modern AU, fluff, implied nsfw and just pure love

word count: 1600+

a/n: happy birthday to you, hope this request can bring some sort of comfort through lockdown, it’s all a mess right now and lockdown has really fucked us over. this is also an emergency request as it’s a birthday one so i thought i’d do this one now and continue on with my normal request order tomorrow

summary: in which it’s your birthday and jean spends the day celebrating with you

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

This man spends the whole night preparing the living room of your apartment

He will literally sneak out from your shared bed leaving a pillow for you to cuddle and start getting everything from his car.

Lockdown had hit you once again and you were unable to celebrate with your family.

Baby had seen how sad you had looked on the phone with your parents and had begun planning everything from there.

Ordering so much crap and making sure it came the next day, he had to usher you to go on a designated walk whilst he shoved everything into his car.

This boy takes multiple trips in the cold with a mask and hoodie on bringing everything up.

So fucking sweet right.

He even has a cake, which he got icing for and wrote happy birthday Y/n.

Be warned the cake looks shit with the red icing.

A horror scene but he tried.

Balloons every fucking where.

He literally had streamers and balloons with your age on them.

This man is too good (how is reader getting so much shit for their birthday and i had to spend mine at home).

He had everything set up for the day, calling your family to set up a call the next day at the designated time.

This man has it all sorted, the pancakes for the morning, the presents for you, hidden behind the sofa and the special dinner he was going to make for you.

This man is just too good for his own good.

Ofc at the end of the day, he’ll treat himself to some dessert and make you feel so fucking loved.

This man would fuck you so good, like baby boy take a chill pill or you’ll get her pregnant.

He don’t care (breeding kink?).

The sound of muttering made you wake up, the early morning sun hit your face but even then, it was cloudy and cold since January was a cold month. You grabbed the other side waiting to see your boyfriend Jean, but he wasn’t there. A soft yawn coming from your face, you checked your phone seeing the gazillion messages, smiling at all the messages.

You got up, wearing Jean’s shirt that warmed you up a lot more than you had expected. Moving to the bathroom, just as you walked back out Jean noticed you about to move into the living space, “woah, woah, woah, where are you going? Get back into the room.”

Jean had pushed you back into the room, “happy birthday Y/n, yeah...have an amazing day, love you.” You mocked after he had dismissed you back into the room.

Hearing shuffling outside, the doors opened, and Jean came in with the pancakes, “happy birthday, baby.” You smiled seeing him with an apron on and a plate of two pancakes.

“Thank you.” You spoke gleefully moving towards him, you kissed his lips softly, tasting the sugar knowing he probably had some out of hunger.

Sitting you on the bed he let you lean against his frame, putting the pancakes on your lap, “why can’t I go into the living room?”

“It’s a surprise, be patient princess.” He kissed the top of your head, you both eating and talking. It felt like a good start to the day and had already made you feel warm and less empty than you had felt the night before.

“You can’t come in until you wear your best clothes and make yourself even prettier.” He gleamed out having already showered and ready to change himself.

You sign doing as your told, it was quick, and you wore the dress Jean had said he’d liked, the long black sleeve dress covered you up and you wore tights due to the extreme weather and knowing how cold the apartment got in the afternoon.

Jean walked back seeing you, he stood in awe at the door, one hand at the top as he leaned forward admiring you, “you look beautiful, baby.”

“You’re being extra nice.” You snicker standing up and going in front of him.

“It’s your birthday, I’m supposed to be nice.” You laugh going on your tippy toes and giving him a soft peck. “Come on.”

He makes you go in front of him, his rough hands on your face covering your eyes, you directed you, making sure you didn’t bang into anything. Before finally you were both in the living room, the balloons and streamers cascaded down the walls. The gold and pinks filled with love and his emotion, “keep them closed.”

Feeling his hands leave your eyes, you kept your eyes shut but could feel the light from outside. “Okay, open them.” He had a cake in his hands, the balloons and lights being such a pretty sight. The place was filled to the brim, you felt engulphed in love and happiness and the wide smile the boy had on his face, he knew you loved it.

“You…you did this on your own.” You spoke tearily, still partially in shock at how much the boy had done for you.

“It was all to see that pretty smile.” He got the matches lightening the candle before showing the cake in full view. It really did look like a scene out of a horror film with the red hearts looking like splodges and the words being smudged, “make a wish.”

He was scared you might hate him for ruing the cake, but you grinned like a school girl who had fallen in love. Blowing out the yellow fame, you made the wish that would make you and Jean bound together forever. He smiled putting the cake down, grabbing your hand to take you to the sofa. “You have to open it in order.” You nodded as he passed the gifts, there were three in total. A small box, a much larger oddly shaped one and a rectangle shaped one, he pointed to the rectangle and you opened it.

Unwrapping the silver wrapping paper and sticking the bow on your boyfriend, his lip twitched upwards before you saw the gift. It was a frame, with the two of you in it, it was sentimental more than anything. It had been three months into your relationship, and he had invited you to his work event where you met a lot of his friends. One of them being Sasha who insisted on taking a photo for you two, it had been your favourite photo since, so candid and in love it was beautiful.

“I love it.” You cooed ready to kiss and hug him, but he stopped you.

“No hugs or kisses until the last present.” You signed rolling your eyes at the boy who passed the oddly shaped gift. You unwrapped it quicker, wanting to hug your boyfriend so much at how amazing the day was going.

You undid it to be met with a figure from your favourite anime, it was a little plushie that you had seen in town. You had sent the plushie to him months ago and here it was in your hands, he had remembered. It was amazing, beautiful even, the little hands and feet. You wanted to cry even more at what you had gotten it meant a lot that the boy had even remembered such a trivial thing like that.

He passed the final gift, his hands seemed shaky, but you ignored it thinking he was cold. After all it was still icy outside and you knew he must’ve had to hide it in his car and wake up in the early hours to even do something like this. You wrapped the last gift, the smallest of the bunch, his shirt moved due to his heavy breaths, he rubbed the sweat on his trousers from his palms. He was nervous if you’d like something like this if you’d accept a gift so personal.

You opened it, seeing a square box, you looked between the box and Jean, before opening it. Inside a gold necklace sat in the middle, the words Jean dangled in the middle. Your heart stopped, it was pretty, the diamonds on each side, the cursive lettering. It was beautiful, “I know it says my name, but there’s a reason for that.” He watched your expression, fearful you’d think him to have that big of an ego, which he did but not to you, “I know I leave on business trips for days and I want you to know I’ll always still be around you.”

His justification warmed your heart even more than the gift had originally, you passed it to the boy, moving your hair to the side. He smiled putting it around your neck before kissing your exposed shoulder. “I love it, I love you.” You whispered in his ear, you kissed him softly before he brought his arms around your waist bringing you a lot closer onto his body.

Your birthday had started out amazing, and it continued on, with a surprise family call whilst Jean made dinner, showing your gifts which your parents adored. To the meal that Jean prepared as you both sat together under multiple candles, it was romantic something you and Jean had missed out on since the first lockdown had occurred. But here you were with your favourite boy having the best birthday ever. He even washed up, letting your relax surrounded by the balloons and streamers. It really was a magical day.

Even afterwards, letting you cuddle up beside him he gave you one last present, and it was one that would make you so loved, so comforted and definitely unable to walk the next day.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

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@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world @chrrylevi @ukaisgratefulwhore @answer-the-sirens @animexholic

[heresathreebee]

That G-D Ring of Yours

High Fidelity’s Robyn Brooks X Female reader

Summary: You seek comfort from your neighbor Rob

Masterlist

There's probably gonna be a part 2

Word count: 2.5k words

Warning(s): +15 | implied cheating, internalized homophobia, heterosexism, author and Rob swearing, no hate to polyamorists but major hate to bad faith players, shameless self insert, no beta, barely edited, long as fuck I'm so sorry

Author's note: I'm having anxiety for no discernable reason and my brain has decided this is ideal fuel for a fic, so please enjoy. EDIT: ha ha yeah still anxious but we're doing stuff about it

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

"-- And she just touched my hand by accident and I just felt this–  this spark between us…" 

It was so sweet how he was talking about it. Or at least it would be were this not your fiancé explaining how he had been seeing another person behind your back. Had you rushed into things with him? Gotten hitched after three months because of familial pressure to settle down and start your family? Quite possibly.

But it didn't make that stabbing in your gut hurt any less. 

You had been a little gung-ho from date number 1, but he had been right there with you the whole time. Date number 2 happened the following weekend and then you just kept seeing each other more and more until before you knew it you had been introduced to each other's extended families and announced your engagement on Valentine's Day. 

You started to suspect something was amiss on Sunday, when you were braiding your hair on the bed and he had gone to take a shower. He accidentally set his phone screen aside with a text chat still open. Thinking nothing of it (he had already told you he was talking to Mark about getting drinks tonight), you looked at the name and saw it belonged to a woman you had never heard of before. Your immediate reaction was 'she must be a new coworker or a cousin,' but then you glanced again and saw the text conversation mirrored the same kind of ‘sentiments’ he texts you. 

The dirt burned into your brain for eternity: 

You had looked away then. You were actually not going to say anything at all to him that night– had planned to bring it up after Tuesday dinner with your auntie's family, but something came up. It turns out that Jessabelle also frequented the same Starbucks as you (and she's your age, not a teen like you worried). You can't even find it in you to be mad at her since it seemed like she had no idea who you were when she showed you the picture of her date at a baseball game. You tried not to puke as you asked for her number and to send her that picture "for her contact profile." 

You hadn't heard a word your fiance had said since the beginning of the phone call and you cut him off with some excuse you barely remember. You tossed your phone carelessly onto the couch and laid back on the cushions in defeat. What now? 

You weren't really a drinker or a smoker, and you didn't exactly have friends who would be supportive right now. You could hear them now, your family too– asking you what you did wrong, telling you to just forgive him or how to get even, or simply saying 'well what do you expect? Boys will be boys.' 

Maybe… no, you definitely need to get this off your chest before you do something stupid like pretend to forget about it. You had a bad habit of that because you tend to fall fast and hard. Perhaps your neighbor could give you some advice. 

Thank the Lord for fire escapes. Rob lived on the floor beneath you, always playing something good from her huge collection of vinyl records. You've told her at least a hundred times before if she played nothing but Phil Collins for the rest of eternity, you could die happy. You crossed your fingers and hoped you weren't being weird or invading her privacy. 

Thankfully, she seemed to be expecting you. She even motioned that the latch was undone and waved you inside. Ok the second wine glass made your face grow hot. 

"I'm not interrupting am I?" 

Rob gave you a warm smile. "I could hear you pacing around your kitchen for about an hour. Was about to come and get you actually." 

She pressed the glass into your hand and you made an effort not to grimace. Rob liked her drinks cheap and strong and she never held back. You tried a sip just to be polite, and she snorted at the face you pulled. 

"That's right, you like that sweet stuff. What's it called again?" 

"Stella Rosa," you mumbled, grateful when she takes the glass back and hands you a water to replace it. 

"Favorite flavor," she asked looking at her phone. 

"Uh… the peach and the rosé. They're all pretty good, not gonna lie." 

"OK, take this, grab a blanket from the hall closet, and tell me what's going on." 

You curled up on Rob's couch and put your feet up. There were piles of records all over the place, empty beer cans and a pizza box or two on the coffee table. Your neighbor tapped away at her phone screen before silencing it and slipping it in her back pocket. She gave you a minute or two to speak up, sipping her drink like you two had all night. Which actually you did as you did not want to see your fiancé right now. 

You felt two fingers gently tap your forehead. "Come on, dreamer, tell me what's going on in that head of yours." 

You swallow the lump in your throat. "I feel a little over dramatic saying my life is about to fall apart." 

Rob raised her eyebrows at you. "Damn, OK." 

You rush to correct yourself– explain your weird sentiment in more detail but you end up just vomiting words until your voice is hoarse. 

"I mean– like– like it's not falling apart per say or whatever– I… the rest of my life is fine its just my relationship that's screwed. Which I guess I'm more worried about because it's gonna screw up all my other relationships for a while too– dang it, let me start over–" 

"Babe! Slow down. Breathe." Rob switched drinks with you and against your better judgement you took a sip. Oddly enough it did calm you down. "So… it's your fiancé, right? What did he do?" 

You stared at her trying to unscramble your thoughts. "He… I found out he was kind of... dating another person. After I found out, he tried to explain that he didn't think I would mind–" 

Rob barked, "let me guess: he didn't think you were exclusive? Pull the Main Chick, Side Chick schtick? Tried to claim 'polyamory' after he got caught?" 

Two and two clicked together at last. "Yeah… yeah, he did!," you scoffed, "and it's not like it didn't ever come up in conversation: we spent our third date talking out our, like, sexualities and fantasies and fetishes and shit. If he was polyamorous, wh- why wouldn't he have brought it up then?" 

"That is so fucked." 

You took a deeper draft of her wine, coughing before setting it aside. Up until now, you've been numb. Now there's this wave of anger boiling up to the surface and you hear yourself getting louder. Rob doesn't flinch but she does give you this look of empathy unlike anything you've seen before. 

"If he– if he would have just asked me, I would have told him it was fine. My family does shit like that all the time: nobody bats an eye! If he really thought I wouldn't mind, he wouldn't have been so freaking sneaky about it. He literally lied, Robyn!" 

You whipped around and for a brief moment you knew you looked crazy. "He said he was going out for drinks with his guy friend, but he was making plans to go to a baseball game with a girl I've never heard of! If he really thought I wouldn't mind, or if he 'thought I would understand,' then why would go out of his way to lie about who he was with?" 

Someone buzzed Rob's door and she left you on the couch momentarily, coming back quickly with two bottles of your favorite wine. "Damn girl, these are kinda bougie: Peach or Rosé?" 

"I--"you choked, "Robyn you didn't have to–" 

"Peach it is!" She unscrewed the caps and handed you the whole freaking bottle of white, downing the last of her merlot and getting a fresh glass for you. 

You felt a little guilty she had spent money on you. But then again it had been her choice. If she didn't want you there, Rob wouldn't have let you in in the first place. Maybe you were just a tinsy bit worried you shouldn't be here. 

You and Rob took a break from talking to put on music and get a little tipsy. It came much easier with the help of the Stella Rosa, though Rob initially complained it was 5.5%, she did get accustomed to the sweetness pretty fast, and after consuming half the bottle, realized it was a little easier to get carried away with a drink like this. She admitted it was her first time trying rosé and now she was hooked. Eventually you started talking again, just spilling your guts out with no filter anymore. 

"I really think I just hate myself," you said cuddling the cool glassware. "When I found out, I wasn't even thinking of it as a betrayal of my trust– it felt like I was trying to come to terms with it so I could continue with the relationship. Not because it would make me happy but because… I don't know… it's what everybody else wants me to do. They don't even know about it and I was fully prepared not to tell them even though they'd want me to marry him whether they knew or not." 

Rob barked a laugh of surprise. "Doh-K!" 

"What?" 

"Nothing, nothing…" she said, "keep going." 

You stared off into the middle distance and leaned into her side. She was a tiny bit warm despite her lithe figure. Made you want to throw your blanket over her shoulders and share your greater warmth. 

So you did (you're not great at acting out your desires but this is nice!)

"It's just easier," the words left your mouth unbidden, "I don't even know what that means, but it's true. I don't want to marry him anymore but I don't want to break it off. Not marrying Fiancé means disappointing my family. It means having to find an entire new man to marry sooner rather than later because I'm already 'behind' and lowering my already low expectations. 

"It's not gonna make me happy, but I just think it's easier to keep this wedding going because at least I won't have to find somebody new who might not be as good for me just because I didn't want him. Another man won't make me happy so there's no reason to drop him... except that I don't want him." 

Rob's brow furrowed. "Are you saying it's easier for you to please your family than it is to be happy?" 

"Yes? I– no, I– … I don't know," you sigh. "I guess you could say my priorities are a little… mismanaged." 

"Sure, you could say that." Rob wrapped her arms around your shoulders and you inhaled the scent of her soap and cigarettes. "What if you tried… like… not doing that anymore...? You just said you do whatever your family wants you to do. So, just like do what makes you happy for a change." 

It really does sound so simple the way she puts it, doesn't it? Why are you doing this to yourself? You're not dependent on them for money or security or happiness for that matter. So... why has your whole life been centered around pleasing them? 

"I think… I think I've never really sat down and thought about what makes me happy," you admitted. "I think it's just been that way forever and I might have been too scared to try anything else." 

Rob hummed. "Are you still scared now?" 

Are you? You look into her eyes and ask yourself a question that has never crossed your mind with such depth. You used to be scared– but what is it about your happiness that you are so afraid of? OK, let’s start a little simpler: what are things that make you happy? 

“I like…” you swallowed, trying to break down the barriers you’ve built years and years ago. “I like… coffee. I like… short skirts. I like… girls– I like… my job. I like… music. I think I’d enjoy camping, you know, some day…” 

Your words… these things seemed so arbitrary and trivial. But in your house, these things cause dissent. “My family has an opinion about everything. There’s no right way to live in all of their eyes, but I think I figured out a way to get past it. Keep my head down and do what’s expected of me. Graduate college, get a respectable job, find a man to marry, drop the job and become a mother. Just… don’t make waves. It seemed better because the cousins who didn’t or couldn’t… well they became the butt of every joke at the family dinner. Lisa had one miscarriage so she was a ‘failure’ and Don never dated girls so he was gay and that was ‘bad,’ but grandma Zelda did everything a good Christian woman could do and they still gossiped about her behind her back… 

“And I just… I just let their ignorance control me for my entire life.” God, you could cry right now, but somehow it just felt too good to say it outloud. “That.. that is so fucked.” 

Robyn snorted, and you turned to her as if you’d forgotten she was there. There it was again, that sympathy. Not pity, she did not burden you with tears of her own or try to be angry for you. She just listened and understood. You twisted the diamond encrusted ring on your finger and stared at her. You felt it, that feeling in your heart. No one else had given you that look, like she could really see you. 

“You’re not going back to Fiancé, are you?” Her question was equal parts worrisome and hopeful and you already knew the answer in your heart. 

“No.”

And that was it. Decision made. Actually easier than you'd thought. Maybe not down the road but it felt good for now. There's the telling your fiancé it's over, the moving out, the public announcement, the inevitable feeling of failure, your family, god, his family too. Untangling your lives would be long and hard. You're not sure if you have that level of commitment and motivation in you but fuck it. Problems for tomorrow.

You rest your head on Rob's shoulder and hope your not pushing any boundaries. She doesn't stop you though, in fact she snuggles you deeper into her. You get the feeling she's been here before though your not sure which side or how bad it was for her.

"I like you way more in the few times I've met you than any man I've ever dated," you heard yourself say. "I'm sure that means something but I'm too tired to decide anymore. No tonight at least."

Rob chuckled. "I like you too, sugar."

If you made it this far, hi 💛 appreciate you, leave me a comment! Or just comment "💛"

[elenajohansenreads]

Books I Read in 2021

#63 - Lord of the Changing Winds, by Rachel Neumeier

Mount TBR: 60/100

Rating: 1/5 stars

DNF at the end of the first chapter, around 10%. Which, you know, is a loooong first chapter, and that's part of the problem. (I counted pages for the next one, which turns out is half as long. I'm not a stickler for consistent chapter length, but that's pretty variable already.)

Anyway.

I understand that not all stories start with a bang. Some of them barely even start with a simmer. This wasn't even on the heat, it was so slow. A larger-than-I-wanted portion of that first long chapter was awkward exposition-dump tangents about the history of the town and how it was So Important because of where it was on the river, yet it was also a bit of a backwater, and oh this is the family that runs the inn, except the mother doesn't really run the inn she makes pottery and arranges the flowers for the inn and isn't that special, that the tables at the tavern at the inn always have this specially made pottery with fresh cut flowers that don't wilt as fast as they should because everybody is just a little bit magic and that's her thing, flowers and pottery?

In case you think I'm exaggerating…well, I'm not, that bit about the town and the inn takes two pages and I was bored the whole time. Whenever I thought the story was going somewhere, that the main character might actually do something, there was a tangent about somebody or something else to stop her. At least until she FINALLY abruptly nonsensically goes to the griffins. But I'll get to that issue later.

The other thing I found distracting (and detracting) from what little plot there was, was a chain of editing mistakes, inconsistencies, and word repetition that added up to a feeling of amateurish writing. And I've got receipts: the first one concerns how old our protagonist Kes is. One of their farmhands both "hired on six years ago" and "has been on the farm half [Kes'] life." So, taken literally, she's twelve. Less literally--if we assume the farmhand has been around for half of the life she remembers (because she wouldn't remember being a baby) she's fourteen or fifteen handily, sixteen would be stretching it. But she also has a sister who's starting to go gray (one of the inane character details in the exposition dump about her) and has been "quickly married and quickly widowed" twice. Well, how quickly? Did those unnamed unfortunate husbands die after a month of marriage or a year? How long between the marriages? Why were the siblings born so far apart as to make this possible? Or, alternately, just how young did the sister marry the first time around? And why is this aspect of her life brought up at all if it's a one-sentence history that isn't explored in any depth, despite it raising all these questions for me in order to have it make any sense? (I'm assuming, of course, that these past marriages aren't important, but I don't know. I do know that the book is about griffins and magic and the younger sister, not the older one.)

All of that, because the author wouldn't just say how old the protagonist is, so I have to nitpick these not-necessarily consistent details to figure it out. And I'm still not sure. Her precise age isn't important if we're talking about a month on either side of sixteen, but the difference between twelve or fifteen or twenty sure is significant to how the character thinks and talks and acts, right?

Kes acts like…I don't know, a spacey and exceptionally shy four-year-old? She can't talk, even to people she knows, and especially not strangers. She has her head in the clouds about griffins and nature and not doing anything at all that her sister or society want her to do, but not in an actively rebellious way that implies she has a spine, just that she's terrified of basically everything that might resemble normal life. And the "can't talk" part of her personality gets really grating when she's interacting with the mage and the griffins at the end of the chapter, because every time she's upset or confused, she thinks something and "looks helplessly" at the mage, and he answers her just like he's read her mind. Which apparently is a thing that griffins can do, but wow, does it not justify the protagonist not having the will to actually say what she thinks out loud, and wow, does it make for really awkward "dialogue" in the narrative. No, thank you, I know it's only been one chapter, but if you can't sell me on your protagonist in the first chapter, what are you even doing?

As for the other issue I mentioned under this umbrella, the worst offender for word repetition was "white" showing up five times across two consecutive sentences--four in the first, once again in the second. The passage was describing a griffin, and okay, I get it, the creature is the whitest white ever seen, but for pity's sake, don't say it so often!

The whole tone of this is inconsistent, hand-wavey nonsense that's scattered in ten different directions by all the things it's trying to accomplish at once. It's got no focus, so I don't have patience for it.

[the-unshaped]

CHAPTER ONE: WELCOME BACK TO BEACON HILLS

Chapter Text

"How's the first day back?"

Stiles Stilinski grinned as his oldest friend, Scott, slapped a strong hand on his shoulder. After what felt like a million years away from each other, he was back, his best friend standing beside him. It was a fantastic feeling.

Walking into the school was bizarre. He had felt nostalgia in the past but nothing to this extent before. Maybe it was because his last school was so much larger, but it seemed like every year they were making noticeable changes. Beacon Hills, on the other hand, was exactly how he remembered. The same white and black speckled linoleum floors, same painted mascot on the walls, same old lockers, same trophy cases lining the main hall.

Stiles was stoked.

Even the classes he'd taken so far, which would have ordinarily bored him since he'd learned a lot of what they were going over already, left him feeling almost giddy. The teachers didn't seem to share the sentiment, but fuck them. He wasn't going to let Finstock calling him Billinski a million times drag him down today.

Stiles and Scott had met up the day before, his dad surprising him with dinner and his childhood best friend as a gift for finishing all his unpacking, but it was even more exciting to know he was going to see him every day. They had talked at least once a week after Stiles finally broke and got Facebook eighth grade year and even more when they both had online gaming, almost every day. It was like they'd never stopped.

Stiles had been begging his dad to move back since the day they left, and he only got more persistent after his reunion with Scott, but no matter how hard he tried to convince him, no dice. That is until his dad's college friend, Adam Wilder, let him know that the Beacon Hills was offering full ride scholarships to the college of their choice to the top 5 graduates and was in need of a new sheriff. Not even John could refuse that kind of help. Despite his worry that he wouldn't be accepted as a transfer, he took a chance and put in an application. A month later and a million moving boxes later, Stiles was leaving his fancy Sacramento apartment and on his way home.

"Not bad, Scott. I've got Dad, my best bud, and my nightmares of a poorly-aged Lydia can finally be absolved because she is still as much of a goddess as the day I left, dare I say more. All is right with the world," he said, eyeing the lean strawberry blonde haired girl down the hall. Scott winced, and pulled at his lock, freeing it from the metal loop before opening it and shoving his math book inside. "I definitely missed this place. What more could I ask for?”

Scott scoffed and scuffed the toes of his shoes against the floor. "I can't imagine why anyone would miss this place."

Stiles eyed him, unsure if he was playing around or not. Leaving Beacon Hills, for him, felt like tearing off a limb, leaving something messy, jagged and bloody in its place. Sacramento hadn't been bad, per se. He made awesome grades and was in a club or two every year. He had some people that could pass as friends he hung out with occasionally, but it wasn't the same as the life he had in Beacon Hills. Also losing a limb, Stiles had survived the initial pain and adapted, but at the end of the day, he knew that it wasn't there and could feel the ache of its absence.

Stiles knew he was meant to be there. It was where he was born m. Where he learned how to tie his shoes and write his name. Where he and Scott made a terrible mess in the kitchen making treats for a fundraiser, and Melissa made them clean all day after school, scolding them even as she ate the last remaining cupcake. It was home.

The only difference between losing a limb and losing Beacon Hills was that there was always a voice in the back of his mind telling him that he could get it back, if only he could convince his dad. It was only a few hours away, and he would eventually be able to choose where he lived. Luckily he hadn't had to wait that long.

Stiles shrugged off Scott's dismissal. "I'm sure you'd miss it once you left."

Stiles closed his locker, and noticed Scott had gone quiet. He took a peek over his shoulder as he clamped his padlock shut and realized he had his eyes trained on an adorable brunette talking to a fierce looking blonde he had noticed earlier in their math class. Stiles looked between them a dorky smirk spreading across his face.

"You are so obvious, man. Your tail is practically wagging."

Scott's eyes shot up, eyebrows knit together. "What?"

"That girl. The brunette. You have your 'unrequited pining' look on your face," Stiles explained, shutting his locker door. Scott frowned, crossing his arms, even as he snuck another peek at her.

"It's not that obvious," Scott muttered.

"I've literally only been here for," he looked at her phone, then back up at Brennan, "three hours and forty-five minutes and I knew the moment you looked at her."

Stiles looked at Scott's downtrodden face then brightened. "Wait, is that Allison? Like love of your life, scary but amazing, Allison?"

The blonde glanced over at them, smirking at Scott. Stiles didn't seem to notice. Even if he had he would have no reason to suspect that she could hear anything he said, but Scott knew differently. He flushed, wrapping his arm around Stiles shoulder, whipping him around to face the lockers in a huddle.

"Dude," Scott hissed. "Keep it down."

"It is her! Holy crap," Stiles laughed. Scott just pouted, his eyebrows still pulled together.

"Yeah, yeah. You're brilliant. Can you shut up now?"

"Come on. You act like people are listening," Stiles said, craning his head around to look at the near bustling halls. "Trust me, we aren't that interesting."

"Speak for yourself. I'm plenty interesting."

"Oh yeah? Let my go ask how interesting you are," Stiles teased. "Yo, All-!"

Scott clamped a hand over his mouth, and Stiles was quick to retaliate.

"Did you seriously just lick me? How old are you? Stiles. Stop it!"

Scott dropped his hand with a scowl, wiping it on his dark jeans.

"I'll have you know, licking people could solve approximately 80% of the world's problems," Stiles said, hitting Scott suggestively. "Speaking of licking, how the hell did you get so built? I thought you sucked at sports."

Scott's scowl bled into a full blown grin, ignoring Stiles' sexual remark. "That was last year. A lot has changed. Now hurry up or we're going to miss lunch. And please try to control yourself a little, okay?"

Stiles gave him a questioning look, but didn't ask. He followed Scott through the halls, weaving through the people, trying to connect names to old familiar faces. Some people were easier to remember than others. He would catch flashes of memories from t-ball and baseball practices, or stories her dad had told him on the car ride here. He had only ever really been close to Scott before they left, but the familiarity was calming in a way he hadn't expected.

Stiles couldn't help but grin when they pushed through the heavy doors to the cafeteria.

The walls were a less than white white, dull and slightly grimy with age. They had long rectangular tables instead of the faux wood round ones at his old school, but honestly he liked these better, even if it was just a bit too much white all together for his taste. Too much like a hospital.

"Wow it hasn't changed at all," Stiles chirped. "I bet Mrs. Green still has that wild chin hair, too."

As if she could hear him, Mrs. Green looked up at him with a scowl. He waved at her excitedly, a lopsided grin painted on his face, and Scott shook his head in amusement.

"Hi, Mrs. Green!"

As they made their way through the food line, Stiles reminisced over the meatloaf and asked if they still had the breakfast pizza with white gravy and sausage balls he loved so much. Scott couldn't help but get secondhand excitement. It had been so long since he had felt normal like this. Not that he didn't like his life or that he didn't enjoy things the way they were, but having a friend that wasn't constantly caught up in his problems was nicer than he had expected it to be.

Stiles continued chattering excitedly up until the moment Scott sat down. At a table. With people. Very hot people. Stiles looked down at Scott with wide eyes, his mouth agape. Lydia Martin. Scott was friends with Lydia fucking Martin? How had this not made it into their text messages?!

Scott cleared his throat, obviously embarrassed.

"Guys, you remember Stiles, right? Stiles, that's Lydia, Allison, Isaac, Jackson, Boyd, and Erica. Cora normally sits with us but I think she-well, actually I'm not sure where she is today."

Stiles' eyes followed down the line, his face flushing. What the fresh hell? Scott was attractive in a totally platonic, nothing sexual way, and he would be blantantly lying if he said he hadn't noticed how fit he was now, but how the hell did they go from being the lanky dorks in class to Scott having supermodel-esque friends?

He immediately recognized some of the faces. Lydia, obviously. Scary hot blonde and Scott's crush, obviously Allison, from the hallway. Then, if his friends being hot wasn't weird enough, he realized with a start who the thin muscular guy was.

"Jackson. Jackson Whittemore? As in the Jackson Whittemore who shoved my Batman figure down the toilet?"

Stiles shook his head incredulously at Scott, like he had been personally victimized by the very thought of his seating partner, and Scott buried his face in his hands. Allison laughed, a musical sound that he had heard about in many different phone calls.

"You shoved his Batman down the toilet?"

Jackson smirked, shrugging slightly.

"Poor guy. So you were always a dick," Erica teased, peeking over the lip of her glass of water.

"We were like 6. I'm sure he's fine," Jackson said, leveling Stiles with a less than pitying glare.

Stiles muttered the contrary gruffly under his breath.

"You sure look tasty. Why didn't you tell us he was so fine, Scott?"

Stiles flushed at the blonde's words, not knowing how to comment to that. He looked to Scott for help, but he just shrugged as if to say, "she's always like this."

The man beside Erica, Boyd if Stiles recalled correctly, rolled his eyes, a knowing look on his face. He wrapped his arm around her and whispered something to her that made her giggle in delight, and Stiles was kind of scared to know what he said to make that noise come out of her.

Stiles, shifted back and forth on his feet, still standing awkwardly near the table holding his tray. He looked at the spot beside Scott, unsure. Out of everything he had prepared for today, this definitely wasn't it.

"You going to sit down Stilinski?" Jackson sneered.

"Actually I was thinking of enjoying my food standing up," Stiles shot back, biting into his roll dramatically. "I'd hate for anything else I love to end up in the toilet."

Scott grabbed the back of his jacket and pulled him down onto the bench with strength Stiles didn't know he had. He scowled but kept his mouth closed.

"Well, it's nice to meet you Stiles," Allison said. "Scott talks about you a lot. Like a lot a lot."

"Well isn't that a coincidence, because-" Scott jabbed him in the ribs as hard as he could under the table. Allison smiled bashfully and Lydia rolled her eyes.

"Ow! Stupid overnight muscles," Stiles muttered, rubbing his side. "Not fair."

"You know you aren't going to be eligible for Valedictorian or Salutatorian right?" Lydia asked suddenly, clamping her compact mirror shut. "The policy is that you have to be present for the entirety of your Junior and Senior year to qualify."

Stiles shrugged, trying to keep his overeager inner 9 year old self at bay. "Yeah my dad wasn't thrilled about that, but I told him I didn't care. My GPA is all that really matters. Well, that and my SATs and ACTs."

Lydia gave him an adorable half smile. "Its a shame. It will be nice to have some competition around, regardless. Scott says you're quite the diligent student."

Stiles gave Scott a look that he was too busy ogling to notice. That was strange. That was the second time they mentioned Scott talking about him, yet he knew nothing about any of them. "Is that right?"

Lydia quirked her head, looking between the two, and made a mental note of it.

The rest of lunch went by fairly smoothly, but Stiles couldn't really focus on the various conversations going on around the table, too busy trying to figure everyone out. He could tell that obviously Erica and Boyd were a couple, despite the remark about his attractiveness. Even surrounded by friends, and them frequently chatting with other people instead of each other, he could almost see the personal bubble they had around themselves, so thick it was almost tangible.

From what he could see, Allison and Lydia seemed to be best friends. He wasn't exactly surprised, pretty people always seemed to attract other pretty people, but the vibes they gave off were very different. They were constantly having silent conversations between themselves, checking for opinions as they listened to other people's stories and laughing at inside jokes together. Luckily for Scott, he noticed her eyes would stray over to him frequently, especially when he would start to laugh over something silly.

The most interesting observation seemed to be that while Stiles was away, Scott, Jackson and Isaac had gotten pretty close. Stiles didn't really remember much about Isaac, but he seemed nice enough. He was actually a lot like Stiles in that he was fairly smart, sarcastic, and generally nice to be around, but he had a air of newly self-built confidence around him.

Jackson was the opposite, but to Stiles' surprise, he wasn't as bad as he remembered. Jackson exuded cockiness, that he expected, but he could tell that Jackson was a lot less of a jerk than he used to be when he handed the rest of his food to Isaac before he even had the chance to ask for it. Stiles figured he would be the hardest one to understand, because nothing he said was actually what he meant.

Stiles' thoughts were interrupted when Scott tried to reel Stiles into a conversation about lacrosse, but Stiles was contented to listen to the three guys recap the season so far.

Stiles gradually started feeling a bit more comfortable than he had in the beginning, but something kept nagging at him in the back of his mind: why had Scott told his friends so much about him, yet Stiles was clueless about them? He had heard about Allison, mostly because that was all he talked about, but why hadn't he ever heard of his friendships with the others, especially after Stiles found out he was going to be moving back? They all seemed close. Really, really close. They talked about hanging out on weekends, going to movies, and playing video games all weekend, yet Stiles couldn't remember a single time Scott ever mentioned them.

It was strange. Stiles knew that it was crazy of him to make assumptions from a few passing comments, but something in his gut told him Scott was hiding something.

"Do you have any classes with us?" Isaac asked, holding out his hand expectantly. Stiles shifted so he could pull his schedule from his back pocket and handed it to him. Isaac and Allison looked over it intently, and Jackson snuck a peek, trying and failing to look like he didn't care.

"Chemistry with Scott and Isaac, Math with Scott and Erica, most of the classes with Boyd or Erica if not both, AP classes with Me and Lydia. How did you manage not to have a single class with Jackson?" Allison asked.

"Lucky I guess," Stiles grinned.

Jackson rolled his eyes and Scott elbowed him again. Stiles sucked in air through his teeth and rubbed it until the pain faded. #WorthIt.

"So Scott said your dad is the new Sheriff," Boyd said. It was the first time Boyd had spoken out loud.

"Yeah, he was a deputy here when we lived here before. I guess enough people remembered him from back in the day that when he was nominated, people accepted him."

"Did he tell you how the position opened up?"

Everyone at the table stopped, and eyes were on him. If they were trying to seem subtle, they had definitely failed. Fortunately, though, this Stiles had anticipated. He considered whether he should divulge his true opinions or keep his ideas to himself. After an encouraging nod from Scott, he shrugged.

"Dad told me what they are telling people happened, yeah," he said.

Boyd's flitted to Scott, then he forced a small smile.

"You say that like you don't believe the story."

"I don't."

Boyd looked at him expectantly, as if waiting for him to elaborate. Erica squeezed his arm gently, not tearing her eyes from Stiles, keeping her expression soft. Scott gave him a look and Stiles relented.

Stiles sighed. "My Dad is going to kill me." He looked up to the ceiling as if he were praying for strength to survive. "They are saying it was a mugging or something near the park. That the guy was at the wrong place at the wrong time, got his stuff taken and killed for his trouble."

"That's what I heard too. Sounds reasonable enough, right?" Allison asked, laughing nervously.

Stiles scoffed. "Sure, if he was getting mugged by Wolverine. I haven't seen the crime scene photos yet, but from the conversations I've heard the last few days about the absolute carnage left behind, I don't see how it could be just a simple mugging. They're missing something, they just don't want to admit it yet."

Stiles pretended not to notice Scott tensing beside him. It was no secret Scott wasn't a fan of blood, but he didn't want to embarrass him by pointing it out.

"What does that even mean?" Lydia asked.

"What does what mean?"

"Mugged by Wolverine?"

"Wolverine. You know. X-Men. Wolver-you don't-you don't know who Wolverine is?" Stiles asked, his hands flailing then falling flat on the table, his eyebrows furrowed in distress.

She gave him an incredulous look, her perfect curls bouncing as she shook her head. He ran his hand down his face.

Jackson handed Lydia his phone and her lips turned down. "Man in tights. Not bad."

Allison rolled her eyes and the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.

"Nice to meet you, again, Stiles," Allison said again, grabbing her bag and pulling it over her shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, it was truly a pleasure. I need to borrow your calculator so let's go," Jackson said, ushering her away. Scott huffed beside him, and Stiles rolled his eyes. Scott was as oblivious as always.

*****

Everything was messed up.

Cora honestly couldn't decide which was worse, living states away with a bunch of strangers that she couldn't get along with to save her life, or finally being able to come home and dealing with all the frivolous drama that came with it.

Don't get her wrong, she was glad that Derek allowed her to come back home. She loved him and she was really glad that finally someone was starting to treat her like an adult, but having to deal with school and her brother's complicated Pack dynamics was stressful.

Being back home was annoying. Living in South America was worse.

Being away from her home, the last bit of family she had left, it had almost killed her. She didn't want to eat. She couldn't sleep. When she did sleep, it was interrupted by nightmares. Often times she would wake up in the dark, thinking the smoke had enveloped her completely. If that weren't enough, she felt more isolated than she had in her whole life. She was the only human in the Pack, which she was used to, but at least when she was home she was bonded with her family.

She sat in the library, head in her hands, trying not to think about all of the homework assignments that were piling up. Derek had said school was one of the conditions to her moving back in with him, but what exactly did that mean? What was he going to do when she got her grades back? Was he going to ship her back off like Laura had? Would he even feel bad?

She sighed. That wasn't fair. Derek had never wanted her to go, but when Laura decided on something, there wasn't really anything anyone could do to change her mind. As much as Cora didn't want to, she was going to have to talk to him. Good thing talking about feelings was a Hale family specialty.

When the bell rang for lunch, she rolled her eyes. As if her brother and his Pack didn't have enough to argue about, Scott's token human friend was supposed to have his first day today. Not that she wasn't curious what all the hype was about, but she didn't understand why Scott was fighting so hard to let his friend in on all their secrets when he was constantly pointing out how dangerous it was to let Cora stay here.

So, just to spite him, she was here, continuing to work on homework she didn't know how to do, and was too stubborn to ask for help with.

Before she knew it, lunch was over with only a little bit of progress to show for it. She walked begrudgingly to Chemistry, knowing that Harris was probably going to pester her about her revisions from their lab the previous week.

Cora walked to her spot, sitting down, dramatically opening her Chemistry book. Her up and coming best friend, Nina, nudged her with her shoulder has she settled in beside her.

"Did you hear there was a new senior?"

"Unfortunately," She replied icily, pulling a snack from her bag. Nina gave her an odd look. She interpreted it as "what the fuck is up with you?" despite the fact that Nina would never actually use those words. "Apparently he's going to be hanging around my brother's group."

"Oh," Nina smirked, knowingly. "The Hot Hale Harem?"

Cora almost choked on her granola bar, making Nina's smirk grow to a full on grin. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"You love me."

Cora rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but laugh with her. Nina was different, but she honestly found it kind of refreshing. It was hard for her to remember to think about normal things like boys and shopping, but Nina didn't mind pulling her into her normie girl stuff.

"So, I was thinking," Nina started.

Cora took a deep breath. "No."

"You didn't even hear what I was going to say," she pouted.

"Fine. It'll still be a no, but continue."

"So you know how we have that test on Friday? I was thinking we could invite the guys to study with us."

(Find the rest on AO3 href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27811303"><strong>The Unshaped</strong></a> (16100 words) by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infernal_panda"><strong>Infernal_panda</strong></a><br />Chapters: 2/?<br />Fandom: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Teen%20Wolf%20(TV)">Teen Wolf (TV)</a><br />Rating: Not Rated<br />Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence<br />Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes<br />Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Jackson Whittemore, Vernon Boyd, Erica Reyes, Sheriff Stilinski, Melissa McCall, Peter Hale, Cora Hale, Laura Hale<br />Additional Tags: BAMF Stiles, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Pining, Underage Drinking, Fluff, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Friendship, Humor, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Supernatural Elements, mentions of abuse, eventually, Happy Ending<br />Summary: <p>After leaving Beacon Hills at age 8, Stiles never stopped feeling the indescribable pull, beckoning him back home. A new Sheriff position opening up gives him the chance to move back, and it’s everything Stiles ever wanted. He has his dad, his best friend, and he’s back where he belongs. </p><p>His first day back doesn’t exactly go as planned, and now he is finding that he was even less normal than he thought. </p><p>****</p><p>A Hale Pack fanfic with all of our lovable characters as they try to integrate Stiles into their wolfyhood and crazy monster-filled lives with Stiles as their unknowing magic friend, and a bit of intertwined fates to keep things interesting )

[r3b3lgrrrrrrrl]

A LunaTic and her Gunn (Part 60)

"The Queens of Dirty Secrets"

@creatureofthen1ght-v3

@lovemythsworld

@kellysimagines

@crystalbaby12

@southsidequeen

Luna's no angel. She cheated on Justin. Once. With Tommy. For 9mnths. She didn't lie when she said she'd never had a one night stand.

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

Luna had met Tommy randomly at a Rancid show in Queens. She went alone that night because Justin was out of town at Rehab #2. Tommy spotting her first. Being 6yrs older than her, he had introduced himself confidently. The two of them easily falling into quick banter as if they had known each other for ages. Luna drawn into his deep, blue eyes and overwhelming personality. Asking if he could buy her a drink, she had told him immediately that she had a boyfriend. Tommy laughed and said he didn't care to Luna's rolled eyes as she told him No Thanks and made her way to the stage. She had to get away from him. There was something in her bones that didn't trust herself near him. She was right. Halfway through the show, he slid up behind her, wrapping his strong arms around her tiny waist. She had recognized his scent automatically and against her better judgment, let herself stay in his presence. More then slightly drunk, Luna bounced with Tommy to Rancid as he kept his left arm around her waist, while running his right hand up and down her slender body. Making her heart pound with the music's fast beat. It was during Red Hot Moon that he took the plunge, slipping his hand up her leather skirt. Tommy fingerfucked her in the crowd that night. Luna letting him. She was blinded by his being and the feeling of his thick fingers inside of her as the punk tune floated through her head. Tommy liked that she hadn't resisted and the way he could feel her low moans against his chest. Body shaking in his arms. Luna literally cumming in his hand to her senses. Angry with herself, she had pushed Tommy out of her and disappeared into the crowd, still seeing stars. Licking his fingers, he watched her go, amused at how he thought he could taste peaches. Justin had come home a week later, promising to stay clean. "This time." Leaving Luna raked with guilt. Yet, she couldn't help that every time she masturbated, that moment and THAT man in Queens popped into her head. It was around 3mths later that Luna ran into Tommy again. At a bodega on 133rd Street. Unable or unwilling to deny their chemistry that time, she climbed into his Eleanor when he'd asked if she wanted to take a blunt ride. They had wound up by the East River, making out heavily in Tommy's mustang. Luna refusing to fuck him, Tommy getting tested in less then a week. Luna knew it was wrong the whole time but she couldn't deny the energy between the two of them. Tommy seemed to make her lose all of her common sense. He had a way of sucking Luna into his strong, charismatic, no bullshit attitude. It was a change and escape from the darkness that seemed to be consuming her and Justin. From the moment he saw and watched her, Tommy was mesmerized by Luna's beauty, rawness and sass. They were a wild a rollercoaster ride, twisting and turning. Dipping and soaring. Leading Tommy and Luna to fuck and party all over the five boroughs for almost a year. She only broke it off when he told her he loved her. Realizing that she loved him too but knowing that despite everything, she would never leave Justin. She had crawled out of his bed that night, with tears rolling down her cheeks. As she got dressed, she babbled on about how their relationship wasn't fair to him. And that she was sorry. Too hurt by her rejection, he let her go. She willingly walked from Queens to Brooklyn that night. Contemplating suicide for the first time in her life during those long hours. Luna never told a soul. Not even Ashley. Tommy and Luna's paths never crossing since then.

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

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Tommy smiles at Luna. "No love?" His blue eyes dare her.

Reluctantly, she stands as he swoops her up. Tight and strong. Placing her arms around his neck, a ton of memories flood them both as they embrace. Fitting like two puzzle peices. Feeling the intimacy Luna wiggles out of his grasp, sitting back down.

"You still look great, Little One." The nickname both excites Luna and makes her cringe at the same time. "You just get better with age, don't you?" He asks her, pulling out the stool and sitting next to her. It's been over 5yrs since they last saw each other. "Eh! Lemme get another round here." He calls to the bartender, pointing between himself and Luna. She's quiet, trying to keep her composure.

"You should leave. You should leave. You should leave. You should leave. You should leave." Her brain keeps repeating over and over.

"So, where's the boyfriend?" Tommy's words break Luna's thoughts like a sledgehammer.

She thinks about her words before she speaks them. "We're not together anymore." She tells him without looking at him. His eyes are deadly.

"No fucking shit!!" Tommy slams his hand on the bar. Partly amused, partly irritated. "So, what the fuck did it take for you to finally leave his loser ass?" He asks bluntly.

Luna looks at him now. Square in the eye, with a flash of anger. She tells him coldly "He hung himself in our bedroom."

"FUCK." Tommy let's out. "What a fucking pussy." He has no filter.

"SERIOUSLY!?" Luna glares at him.

He shakes his head and places his hand on the small of her back. "I'm sorry. I guess he never got clean, hunh?"

Luna sighs. Tommy knows more about Luna and Justin's relationship than their closest friends. Looking at him directly again. She says "No. He actually started using needles sometime in the last 6mnths. I threatened to leave him and I'm pretty sure that's why he fucking killed himself." Luna doesn't break eye contact from Tommy. Besides Colson, he's the only person she's ever uttered those words to.

He breaks away as his heart drops for her. "When?" He asks her quietly, looking into his drink.

"Almost 3yrs ago." She answers him.

Looking up, he slides his left arm around her shoulders as he uses his right hand to pull her barstool closer to him.

"You need to fucking leave. You need to fucking leave. You need to fucking leave." Her brain keeps telling her as she feels her body flush from the closeness of his.

"Are you okay?" He asks, lowly in her ear.

"Yeah... Look I'm seeing someone..." She spits out.

Tommy erupts into laughter, not bothering to move his arm. "Some things never change, hunh? You're still caught up and I still don't give a fuck." He tells her matter of factly. Their faces are close together.

Luna knows it's true. She pulls away to finish the rest of her drink, reaching for the other round Tommy had ordered.

"This is different. I'm happy." She tells him to his smirk.

"Yeah?" He laughs again. "Then why are you alone in a bar at a punk show, just the same as I found you before?" He snips at her.

Annoyed, she states again that this is different. Still taunting her, arm still around her shoulder. He asks how. Shaking him off of her, she tells him it just is. He's making her think about Colson and Justin drug use similarities.

"Okay." He leans in close to her. "How long?"

Luna takes another drink. Closing her eyes, she turns her head and opens them at him. "Two months."

"Only two months?? Fuck, I've got a hell of a shot." He laughs, lifting his glass to cheers her as he slides his arm back around her. He knows the crazy control he has over her.

"Fuck you. No, you don't. I'm in love with him. Have been since before you. Fuck. I sold my apartment and am basically living with him." The words explode out of Luna's mouth.

All Tommy hears is two words in her whole statement. "Before me?" He asks, showing a hint of emotion.

Luna sighs again. Not being able to side step him or want to, she places her hand on his right one that's on the bar now. "I met him almost 10yrs ago. When I was still with Justin. Our vibe was really intense and I ran away. He's from Cleveland so we didn't cross paths again until recently.

"Fucking Cleveland?" What? Are you dating Drew fucking Carey??" He gives her a dirty look, throwing his hands up. He knocks her shoulder as her one hand flies up with his. Wincing from the hit, she looks up at him with her big, blue eyes. Shaking his head, he brings his right hand up to stroke her face. "You should've left him for me, a long time ago."

In her heart, Luna isn't sure if she disagrees.

The band begins to rumble.

Tommy hears it too.

"You wanna bump?" Tommy asks her with a gleam in his eye.

"Nah, I've been off that shit since we split." She tells him. Tommy was the biggest cocaine distributor in all five boroughs. Probably even bigger now.

"C'mon, you know I got that pure." He coaxes her.

"Nah, I'm good. I'm gonna go catch a cigarette before the band kicks in." She tells him, sliding off her stool. "It was good to see you." She says him to his unhappy look.

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

Outside Luna tries to call Colson again. He doesn't answer. Checking her watch, it's not even 11P. Hearing the band kick on, she finishes her cigarette, rummaging through her bag for her camera as she walks back in.

Annoyed, she thinks to herself "He never answers when I'm fucking home." Glancing at the bar as she makes her way to the stage, she sees that Tommy is gone.

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

Colson and Casie are passed out on the couch in Ohio. They had finished their FortNite match and fallen asleep watching Maleficent. Colson's phone ringing in the kitchen.

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

The band is amazing. They're called Product of a Government. They're fast and loud with INCREDIBLE lyrics. Ripping through Trump, Pence, Alabama, Kavanaugh and Brock Turner. Luna makes her way up front. Shooting them as they play. Bouncing and bobbing to their melodies and the crowd.

Once the show ends, Luna approaches them on stage.

"Hey." She greets them. They stop what they're doing like most men do when Luna speaks. "You guys are uniquely incredible." She praises them. "Are you signed?" She asks.

The guys look around at each other. "Nah..." They answer in unison.

"I'm Luna." She says, reaching her hand out. "I'm a local artist who just broke free of my lable. I'm gonna start my own. I think you guys would be a great launch."

The guys each shake her hand individually. Yet leerily. Because, what GIRL, starting her own lable is going to help them.

She sees their reluctance. "Check me out before you decide." She tells them as a group. "Luna Smith. That Brooklyn Bitch." She says as she turns to walk of stage.

The name rings in an ear. "Fuck. Like THAT Brooklyn Bitch???" A voice asks behind her. They've heard of her folklore.

"The only one." She turns around smiling. She's got 'em. "It's not up and running yet, so do you. But let's exchange numbers and if you're not signed by then. I've got you." Luna shrugs.

She exchanges numbers with all members. Reassuring them she got great shots during their set. Luna secretly pleased to still be known for her photography above all.

Tommy watching her on stage.

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

Tommy catches her outside smoking. He can't help but yearn for her as she glances over her shoulder at him with those eyes.

"Lemme buy you a drink. To make up for earlier." He says approaching her.

Luna rolls her eyes as she inhales. "Okay." She agrees against her better judgment, as always with him. She finishes her Newport before following Tommy back into the bar.

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

Luna's always enjoyed Tommy's company. It's one of the things that made her fall into him so easily. He's funny, sharp and nasty. Three qualities Luna fully enjoys.

They exchange stories of the passed missed years. Deals, robberies, and beat downs, amongst many other illegal activities.

Luna telling him about ICE and the shots exchanged. Tommy's impressed and worried at the same time. Wanting to look at her wound to her laughing decline.

Loose and always able to tell his truth to Luna, Tommy divulges that he fell in love after her. It hurts but she listens.

Luna's one of the few that Tommy trusts, who know's his whole life. He tells her how he lost control and killed his girlfriend because she had turned on James.

Luna isn't surprised. She knows Tommy's undying loyalty to his friend. It's a commonality they share. She's also seen what Tommy is capable of first hand. Never towards her, but they had been together long enough and he had trusted her deeply enough to show her all of him. To this day, he wonders if it was him that scared her and if that was the reason she wouldn't leave Justin for him.

It wasn't.

She can see the torment all over him. Without thinking, she stands up, slides in between his legs and pulls him close for a hug.

The moment their bodies connect there's a surge. Luna's cheeks flush as she feels Tommy's dick grow against her. She mentally shakes it off and holds him for a moment, stroking the back of his neck and hair. His breath is warm on her collarbone. Realizing what can happen, Luna pulls away gently.

"What were you doing on stage?" Tommy asks her, feeling her about to go. Looking for any reason to make her stay.

"Oh! I think I'm gonna start a record lable myself." She tells him, shifting gears as she slides back onto her stool.

Luna tells him her idea as she bitches about Charles, this weird fame that's creeping up on her and how she feels exposed.

"That's why you need you an undercover brother." He teases her. "I'd keep you tight."

"Shut up." Luna tells him, rolling her eyes. She knows she has to get the fuck up outta there soon.

Finishing her drink, Luna looks at Tommy. "I gotta go." She tells him.

"Lemme drive you..." He coaxes with a grin.

"Noooooo..." Luna laughs, shaking her head.

"No fucking way in hell." She thinks to herself. "You are in this with Colson, Loons. FUCK NO!! FUCK THIS MOTHERFUCKER." Knowing in all honesty she doesn't trust herself around Tommy. With him, she undercover hurts people and makes bad decisions.

"Okay, lemme walk you out then and hail you a cab." He tells her. Luna agrees, tipping the bartender before they head out.

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

Luna lets Tommy lead her outside. It's too easy to fall into his strong step.

Standing on the curb, he teases her about her upcoming fame. They're too close to each other. Laughing, Tommy scoops up Luna in his big arms, gripping her ass. Falling out of reality for a second she wraps her legs around him.

"I knew you loved me." He grins.

Luna can't help but smile while reaching to place a hand on his throat. She closes her eyes for just a moment. Breathing him in before dropping her legs. She moves her hand down and pushes against his defined chest as she slides off of him.

"Mmmmm... Let Daddy take you home, Little One." Tommy moans as her body slips through his hands.

"FUCK." Luna thinks as the simple words bring her back to their enticing kink. She feels her pussy plump. "You've gotta fucking GO!" Her brain screams at her.

Luna spots a cab. Throwing a hard whistle, it pulls over for her.

Unable to help herself, she kisses Tommy hard on the lips. "I did love you." She states before jumping in the cab and hustling it off.

Tommy stands there, the same way he laid the night she left him. Confused, heartbroken and longing for her.

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

"WHAT THE FUCK LUNA!?!" She scolds herself. Shaking her head, she leans back in the cab. "ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE!?!!... Well, at least you didn't fuck him this time." She battles with herself. Still worried about Colson. "You're a fucking ASSHOLE." She thinks of herself.

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

Back at her B&B, Luna feels guilty as fuck. It's too late to call so she Snaps Colson.

Luna bumps two 30s, swallows a bar and burns through three joints trying to calm her mind from tonight's bullshit.

"Fucking Tommy....... I never thought... FUCK." She feels her body heat up as her heart aches. Her mind rejecting him in the moment. "How the fuck did you even end up here?" Luna wonders drunk. Slightly confused about her entire fucking life.

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

To be continued......

[lunaofthevalley]

Steadfast Tin Soldier.

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Plot: Inspired slightly by the Hans Christian Andersen Take of the same name, which for some reason reminded me of Bucky. Don't know if something like this has been done before so? Hope you guys like it.

Bucky grew up hearing the tales of Hans Christian Andersen. His younger sisters adored the stories, and his Ma adored telling them. She would somehow rope Bucky into sitting through them as she would tell them to the girls to get them to fall asleep.

If you asked, he could probably recite every single one by memory, or tell it to his best ability. He'd heard every single one, The Little Mermaid, The Snow queen, Thumbelina, The Ugly Duckling, etc. But there was always one that stood out to him for some reason.

The Steadfast Tin Soldier.

He didn't know what was so special about it at the time, why it stuck with him. He wasn't a soldier, nor was he missing a limb. He didn't have his ballerina, and much less an evil possessed Jack-in-the-box having it out for him.

And even years later, before he was shipped off to war, he remembered the story. He was a charming man, and in every girl he dated or wooed, he looked to see if she could be his ballerina, but none ever came to par. They lacked something.

When he actually became a soldier, he remembered the story, which he now used more or less like a metaphor. Bucky was the soldier, except he wasn't missing a leg, Thank God. And his Ma, his sisters, and even Steve to a certain point were his Ballerina, while the Nazis were the Jack-in-the-box. And while in the story the Steadfast Tin Soldier made it back to his ballerina safely, this soldier didn't.

After years of torture, confusion, and forgetting, the story made its way back into Bucky's memory. It took 75 years, give or take, but when he remembered it, it was as if he'd never forgotten it.

It happened when he was in the compound. After Shuri had managed to wipe his mind free of hydra and having stayed in Wakanda for a few months, Bucky decided it was time to head back. He knew before getting back to the compound that it wouldn't be as he left it. In a place as busy as that, things were bound to change, nothing drastic, but change all the same.

But he sure as hell didn't expect you.

The moment he laid eyes on you was the moment he remembered the story. The way you looked was the same way he always imagined the Ballerina in the story looking. Sure the ballerina was described as being made of paper, but Bucky always imagined her as much more than that. And now he was seeing her in the flesh. Not literally, but figuratively.

You were Bruce's new assistant, hired shortly after he'd left for Wakanda. You were younger than he was, obviously. You were around 27, while he in physical appearance appeared to be 32. You had lovely Y/E/C eyes, and your H/C hair was like silk flowing in the wind, and Y/S/C skin looked like the softest thing to touch, dotted around with little moles here and there which reminded Bucky of the Stars.

Bucky had found his Ballerina after all. He thanked god he could now get the mental image of pre-serum Steve being his metaphorical ballerina out of his head.

Sure it had taken a horrible 75 years, a world war, HYDRA and countless other things before he found you, but truth is Bucky had never felt more like the Steadfast Tin Soldier than he did now.

He was a soldier, he was missing a limb, he has his Jack-in-the-box, which would be HYDRA, he'd gone through a great journey and now after all that he'd met his Ballerina. Y/N Y/L/N.

Now all he had to do was win you over.

As time passed he got to know you. At first it was through small talks you two would have here and there, then small talks progressed to talks and talks progressed into full on hour long conversations. He'd gotten to know plenty about you. Your favorite color, food, movie, season etc. But his favorite fact about you was that apart from being a certified genius, you had also trained as a dancer growing up, mostly in ballet.

Life was a funny thing.

As life progressed in the compound, so did the sexual tension between you and Bucky, as well as the irritation of the other team members, knowing that you two still hadn't even acknowledged the feelings you held for each other. Which is why they decided to do something about it.

"Can someone explain why I'm here please?" Bruce asked, "I'm pretty sure I've got more important business than whatever this is."

"Ah actually this involves you so you are needed here," Tony replied, "well actually it involves your lovely assistant miss Y/N."

Bruce looked around the room before his eyes landed on Tony again, "What about Y/N? Has she done something wrong?"

"It's more like what she hasn't done, she-"

Natasha cut Tony off, "What Tony means is, we've all noticed the growing sexual tension between her and Barnes, yet neither have done anything about it and it's killing them and all of us, surely you've noticed?"

Bruce nodded, "I have actually noticed, but I tend not to meddle in things that I'm not actually involved in."

"But we are all team members, therefor we should all help each other out, including Lady Y/N and the metal handed man." Thor reasoned.

"I can't believe you're all doing this, even you Steve."

Steve sighed, "I'm not overly pleased with the idea, but I know the outcome will be good for Bucky and for Y/N, I have all their best interests at heart."

"We all do." Wanda added.

"Fine. Okay. What's the plan then?"

"That's kind of why we're here Mr. Banner, to brainstorm."

"Seriously, even the kid is here, no offense Peter."

"Non taken Mr. Banner."

"What can I say Bruce, all hands on deck are needed. Even the frail ones of the Spiderling." Tony then clapped his hands before continuing. "Alrighty then if were gonna do this, we need to do something that they won't forget. Something big. Hmmm how about a party?"

"Only Tony Stank could make this end up in a party."

"Shut up Rhodes. Just think about it. It would give us an excuse to be there and make sure everything goes to plan. It would be public enough yet private enough, and think about it, the 'make them dance together' trope always seems to work in movies." Tony explained.

"I hate to say it but I kinda agree with stark." Sam spoke up

"Kinda?"

"Don't push it, Stank."

"I agree too. It's kind of perfect actually." Natasha reasoned. "There would be enough people there that they wouldn't be the center of attention, it also gives them a reason to dress up and impress the other, like Tony said, we can make them dance together, and we can also get them a bit tipsy, which would help in making them confess their feelings."

"Hmm we could also make it themed." Clint spoke for the first time.

"Like what?" Asked Vision, "If I'm not mistaken all important and big holidays have past."

"What about a costume party?" All eyes were suddenly on Peter, no one said anything so Peter took it as his chance to elaborate. "Well we are in mid-October so it wouldn't seem too out of place, which would also be perfect for making them 'accidentally' dress up in a couples costume."

"Genius. Pure genius. Kid your a genius. How didn't I think of it."

"You're not as smart as you think Stark, age is catching up on your brain." Clint laughed.

"Shut up Legolas"

"Now the question is, what costumes do we get them?" Steve asked.

Everyone thought in silence before Thor spoke up.

"What about that cat Lady and bat Boy."

"You mean Batman and Cat Woman? Nah that's overrated." Sam reasoned. "How about Mario and Princess Peach?"

"As much as I would love to see Barnes dressed up as Mario, I'm not sure he'll agree to that costume. We need to think of something more original, something that might not seem like a couple costume at first but when it's brought together it fits perfectly." Tony stated.

Wanda who had been quiet for most of the meeting finally spoke up. "I was talking to Barnes the other day, and he told me a story, about a soldier and a ballerina."

Steve perked up at this. "You mean the Steadfast Tin Soldier. Bucky used to talk about that story all the time back in the 40's"

"Isn't that the one about the toy soldier that's missing a leg and falls in love with a paper ballerina?" Peter asked.

"Yea it is," Steve replied, "Bucky used to hear it all the time, his sisters loved the stories by the same author that wrote the Steadfast Tin Soldier, but for some reason that one stuck with Bucky."

"Huh, that's funny." Laughed Bruce

Tony turned to look at Bruce, "What's funny? Please enlighten us."

"Well, uh, growing up Y/N took dance lessons, contemporary, tap, lyrical, all the sort, but what she liked the most and dedicated her time to the most was Ballet." Bruce explained.

Everyone stared at him as if he had grown to heads. They were all too stunned by what they had just discovered.

"So let me get this straight," Said Tony, "you're telling me we have Barnes, a soldier who happens to be missing a limb, and Y/N, who so just happens to be a Ballerina?"

"Well she's not technically a ballerina but-"

"Shut up Bruce don't ruin this." Tony interrupted.

"Well if all of you are alright with it, I think we found the solution to our costume problem." Natasha spoke.

"Well then Avengers it seems we have a party to plan, and to reunite a certain Soldier and a certain Ballerina"

Part 2??

Feel free to send in requests, I'm on a writing high at the moment and I also have the time.

[shanunotes]

1/24

Winnie has slept 8 hours in a row for the last two nights. I tend to sleep a little less than her (I think I've acclimated to spotty/short sleep), but I've definitely been getting more rest than her first 2 months at home! I'm trying to keep expectations low going forward. Winnie sleeping long stretches at night means she's relatively active in the day compared to other babies her age. I'd rather have a good night-sleeper, though.

She's increasingly engaged with us and is very tuned in to our faces. My new soft rule for myself is to only watch TV or look at my phone when she's breastfeeding, since she's pretty preoccupied with eating during that time (ditto for when she's asleep). But beyond those two activities, I'm trying to stay engaged with her and talk to her a lot.

Since we're together all day, sometimes I need do an activity like pumping, cleaning pump parts, washing my face, folding laundry, feeding Lucy, etc... and while I do those things, I try to talk to Winnie and narrate what I'm doing. I think it's probably healthy to try to just live my life around her and let her observe/partake as much as she can. I want to figure out a daily schedule that optimizes for both of us if possible.

Her thrush is being really persistent. I managed to get her nystatin prescription renewed, and I'm just trying to keep myself from contracting thrush by swabbing my nips with vinegar after I breastfeed.

*

This weekend was kind of rough, I'm not sure why. Sammy and I are in the midst of a lot of logistics:

We're trying to find a new house to rent, so we've been viewing a lot of apartments/houses and weighing the merits of each place

We're starting down the road to selling our condo (working with Joann So's friend Katherine), and trying to figure out the optimal time to list it, as well as logistics like staging

We need to figure out Winnie's daycare in the next few months, which interplays with where we're going to rent next

Sammy just started at work this week and is dealing with a full workday in addition to parenting a newborn

I think the weekend just made it really obvious how little free time we have. Weekends used to be where we kind of caught our breath and geared up for the week, but I feel like this past weekend just depleted us even more (especially Sammy). I think this is probably just an intense phase of parenthood that will hopefully get better. We did manage to sneak in some fun on Saturday morning, which made my day.

Some days with Winnie feel like magic—you're like how lucky am I to be a parent to this perfect human?!?!? and other days feel very burdensome and long, like why did I sign up for this again? I used to be able to do whatever the heck I wanted. I will literally never take the chance to read or write for granted, ever again. Well at least until the year 2040 🙃

I feel really lucky that Sammy is so engaged with Winnie and so conscious of my needs. I read a lot of stories of terrible husbands on the What to Expect app—although I have to say, being a good/kind/patient parent and spouse while you have a newborn feels like a saintly achievement, and being shitty at it just seems like the mean.