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number1mingyustan · 5 months

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-Cuffing Season-

Your Call

boyfriend!mingyu x fem!reader

Warnings: established relationship, cursing, explicit smut, mutual masturbation (m+f), virtual sex, size kink, fingering (f.)

Summary: Even a thousand miles away you still have the same effects on him

Word Count: 1.8k

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(a/n: i'm baaaack!! im so sorry for going MIA I was busy with school and now that I'm on break I've had literally no motivation to write but I've got a few more drafts I'm working on so expect me to be more active!)

The hotel door swings open and Mingyu walks through it, hand already pulling at the navy blue tie draped around his neck.

He undoes it with one hand before dropping it onto the carpeted hotel floor. He lets out a sigh of pure exhaustion and leans his back against the wall as his briefcase meets the floor.

He’s been in meetings all day and tired can’t even describe what he’s feeling right now. He’s away from you in Tokyo on a business trip and he’s miserable. His days prior to this were light, a meeting here and there and a couple of conventions. But today?

Back-to-back meetings with potential investors and clients have worn him out. He hasn’t even gotten the chance to call you yet today.

For the two weeks, he’s called you at least three times and you’ve texted back and forth every day. Now it’s nearing 1am and he hasn’t spoken to you at all.

He strips himself down to his boxers and lays down on top of the bed. He scrambles for his phone and immediately dials your number.

You pick up on the first ring. “Gyu?”

“Hi baby,” He rasps.

"Was beginning to think you forgot about me," you pout.

"Never, I was just swamped. I knew it was gonna be a heavy day, but I had literally no time to myself. I just now got back to the hotel," he sighs.

"You work so hard babe," You say. "I'm proud of you, but take it easy."

He nods. "It'll only be this bad for the next few days. I think it'll be worth it though, seems like a lot of good can come out of this for the company."

You shift on the bed, making yourself more comfortable as you lie down. "That's good Gyu, I would hope so."

The call goes silent for a few moments. You can hear each other breathing lightly into the phone as you lay in comfortable silence.

"I really miss you," Mingyu says, finally breaking the silence.

"I know, I miss you too." You sigh. "I've been miserable without you. I'm so lonely here, we should've gotten like a cat or something."

Mingyu lets out a breathy chuckle. "Noted. It'll be the first thing I do when I come home next week."

"Ugh," You groan dramatically. "Don't remind me I have to wait a whole week to see you again."

You can practically hear him smiling into the phone. "A week can go by fast, don't worry. I'll be home in no time."

"Good," You smile. "Bed's cold without you here."

"Must be," He yawns.

"Yeah Gyu, I hate it. Need you here now," Your voice is just above a whisper.

"What are you wearing?" He asks.

"You want me to tell you or show you?" You ask.

"Fuck," he whispers. "Show me."

Before he can even finish his thought, his phone is already ringing with an incoming Facetime call. He presses on the green button and sees you adjusting the camera.

Your phone is leaning against something to hold it up and you're sitting crisis cross applesauce on the bed in front of him. "Hi Gyu."

"Hi pretty girl," He smirks.

He rises to his feet, holding his phone in hand as he makes his way over to the desk in his room. He sits down, angling the camera so you can see him.

"Really missed you today," You tell him.

"Missed you too," He licks his lips. "You wearing my shirt?"

You nod. "Yeah. Still smells like you and everything."

You pick up the phone, angling it down so he can see the black and white striped button-up you have on. It fits you big, coming down mid-thigh.

He rasps. "Looks good on you baby."

"It does, doesn't it?" You smirk. "Think it might look better off though, right?"

Suddenly Mingyu isn't sleepy anymore.

"Shit baby, don't do this to me. You know I'm going crazy cuz I can't touch you," He groans, tilting his head back.

"This is the next best thing, no?" You lick your lips, allowing your hand to undo the first button.

"Damn right, it is," He agrees, slipping his hand into his boxers. To no one's surprise, he's already sprouting a semi at the mere thought of having phone sex with you.

It was only a matter of time before this happened anyway. You and Mingyu would rarely go this long without being intimate with one another.

"You didn't seriously call me in nothing but your underwear and expect me not to want you Gyu," You breathe out.

"Didn't do it on purpose sweetheart," He grins.

You've already undone half the buttons of his shirt. He can see your bra peaking through the open material. His cock twitches in anticipation.

He watches like a hawk as you slide the shirt off your shoulders and let it fall off your body entirely. "Shit," he whispers.

You're kneeling in front of the camera in nothing but your bra and underwear. It's a matching lavender set that he bought you a while back.

His eyes are glued to his screen as he watches you. You play with your bra straps, sliding them off your shoulders slowly to expose your breasts to him. He lets out a low groan and feels his cock harden more in his boxers.

He's suddenly feeling suffocated by the material on his hips. He sits up, sliding his underwear off and exposing his leaking cock. He lets out a breath of relief as he wraps his hand around his length.

He swipes his thumb across the tip, using the bit of precum to lubricate his cock. He licks his lips slowly, watching you as you slide your soaked underwear off your body.

"You're so big," you whisper. You're practically drooling at the sight of his cock.

He spits on his hand and starts pumping himself slowly. "Touch yourself f'r me."

You sit back on the bed and slide your hand down between your thighs. He watches as you spread your legs, revealing just how soaked you were for him.

You let out a shaky breath as your finger circles your clit.

"Need you so bad Gyu," You whine.

'i'm here baby-fuck," he groans.

He pumps his length faster, gliding his hand along his hard cock as he watches you touch yourself. He strokes himself, swiping his hand across the sensitive tip every time he pumps himself.

"Inside me.. need you inside me," You whimper. You slip two fingers into yourself slowly. You spread your legs wider to give him a better look. You push your fingers deeper, curling your digits against your inner walls.

"Soon baby, 'm all yours." He breathes out.

"You're so big Gyu, want you to fuck me so bad-ah," You pump your fingers deeper inside of yourself, desperately trying to coax yourself toward an orgasm.

"F-fuck y/n... keep talking," He drops his head back and groans. His muscles are bulging and his grip on his cock is tightening. "Missed your voice."

Even through the low quality of your phone camera, Mingyu was still in awe of you. His eyes were hyperfixated on the way your fingers disappear deep inside of you. His hips jerk up into his fist, warm blood pumping through his veins and making his limbs grow hot with arousal.

You lean back, fingers tightening around his bedsheets clumped in your hand as you push your hips into your hand. "Hah- my fingers are hardly big enough. Need your cock baby–" You whine.

You curl your fingers the same way he does when he touches you, pressing your fingertips against your inner walls. The sensation has your toes curling with a familiar feeling building up inside of you.

His dick twitches in his hand. Fuck, he's so reactive when it comes to you. No one can make him feel the way you do. He lets out a low groan, squeezing the head of his cock to stop himself from cumming when he hears you.

You continue pushing your hips into your hand with erratic movements. You look at your screen, watching your boyfriend strokes his cock. You watch the way his large hand glide along the length of his cock.

"Gyu–fuck, I'm cumming," You warn him.

Mingyu stops holding back the second the words pass your lips. He speeds up his hand, loosening his grip every so slightly. You cum together, bodies shuddering with sloppy movements as you drive yourselves into a state of euphoric pleasure.

He fights to keep his eyes open. They remain half lidded as he refuses to rip his eyes way from the scene before him. He's fixaed on the way your fingers dip into your pussy, coating them with more of your slick arousal as your body spasms and jerks.

He can feel the way his load spills all over his hand and onto his lower abs, but he can't take his eyes off of you. He missed being able to see you fall apart. It's one of his favorite views. Even a thousand miles away, he was still going to see it for himself.

Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you come down. You draw your slick fingers out of your hole slowly, licking your lips as you tap back into all of your senses.

He blinks slowly as he comes down from his high. He grabs a tissue from the desk, cleaning up the mess on his skin. He discards it and slouches against the chair.

"Can't believe we just did that," He lets out a breathy chuckle.

"Thought it would've happened sooner. Been expecting it since your first night away," You smirk.

Mingyu yawns and decides to call it a night. He grabs his phone, plugging it into the charger and pulling his boxers back up onto his waist.

"Sleepy?" You ask.

"Exhausted," He turns off the lights and climbs under the hotel bedsheets. "I feel a lot better though."

"Good," You say.

You mirror his actions, redressing yourself, turning off the lights, and plugging your phone into the charger before climbing under the bedsheets. You're yawning too, snuggling in the sheets with your boyfriend on the phone.

The call goes quiet and it doesn't take long before both of you are fast asleep.

Mingyu can't wait to go back home and sleep next to you properly. For now, FaceTime calls will have to do. But once he can have you in his arms again, his home will feel complete again.

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#seventeen smut #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #mingyu smut #seventeen drabbles #seventeen mingyu #kim mingyu #mingyu drabbles #mingyu svt #kim mingyu smut #svt mingyu #mingyu fanfic #mingyu #cuffing season #kpop

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lowkeyerror · 24 days

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The Family Business Ch.12

WandaNat x Reader

Word count: 2.7k

Ch. Notes: It's a converstion so dialouge heavy, non-sexual nudity

Summary: Natasha and Wanda reveal their feelings.

An: Ok... ok late again, but tell me it's not worth the wait. (Please don't) Hopefully you love it because it's 2:25am but I'm still doing this for yall and yes if everything goes right new ch. on Monday

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Wanda couldn’t look at you when she was speaking. You could see she was trying to find the words, but you didn’t know how to help her.

Natasha knowing what her wife is trying to say tries to take over.

“ Before I met you I was a little jealous. Seeing the love of my life light up talking about someone who was quite literally thousands of miles away, was a hard pill to swallow. I haven’t known you as long as Wanda, but I can see now why she had always spoken so highly of you.”

You want to interrupt the red head and say anything back to her, but you don’t. They had said they wanted to tell you everything before you spoke so you intended to let them.

“When Papa sent me away, I resented him for it. It was a great opportunity and a show of good faith, but I was angry with him because I didn’t want to leave you here. I thought we had grown quite close, little krolik. You were the best part of all my days. So much so that even thousands of miles away I couldn’t shut up about you. Even after I fell in love, you’d always find a way into my mind,” Wanda plays with her wedding ring as she speaks.

You look between the two woman silently urging them to continue.

“I’ve been many places, lived many lives, and have met many people, but I've never met anyone like you. There’s this light inside you that you keep so close to your chest. I can feel it behind all the walls you put up. I see it in how intensely you care about your family and I admire it. I admire you,” Natasha isn’t scared to take your hand in hers.

Wanda continues, “It’s hard not to admire you. If Natasha has seen it in these few months, it’s safe to say I’ve always seen it. I saw it before you put all these walls up, when you let it be known to everyone. I think that’s what startled me so much when I came home. I felt like a soldier come home from war to see his home was no longer his.”

The woman begins to get emotional. You reach out your other hand for her to take, not knowing what else to do.

“When I saw Wanda interact with you for the first time, I felt something. It wasn’t jealousy or hatred or anything like that. It was this overwhelming warmth. Seeing her hold you as if you’d disappear, seeing her smile as big as our wedding day, it made me happy,” Natasha recounts.

Wanda sighs, “When we were in my old room at the dinner I was terrified. I thought you were going to tell me the same thing everyone else had when it came to you, but you didn’t. You held me, dried my tears, and I think things really started to fall into place for me then.”

“I met Wanda when she was technically on a job. She was leading and in charge of operations. I had seen her get angry or upset on multiple occasions, but I don’t know if I ever saw her as mad as that night. I could almost see the steam coming out of her ears when she had Pietro against the wall. As far as I knew, I was the only one who could calm her down, but then you did it like it was second nature.”

You speak quietly, “She’s always had a temper.”

You think the woman will roll her eyes, but she doesn’t, “I have and you have always been there to calm me down. I don’t know how to say this, Y/n. When I met you, you were just my little brother’s best friend, but then you became my friend and then a part of my family. You were so delicate back then, you weren’t even 18 for Christ sake.”

Natasha tries to help her wife find her bearings, “But by the time she left you were 22 and you had grown into a young woman.”

Wanda shakes her head a bit, “You had done a lot of growing, that I didn't want to see, that I was trying to ignore because I didn’t want you to think that I had intentions of taking advantage of you. I felt like at the time I was too old, you were too young, and we were too close.”

You look at her with confusion on your face. There’s only one thing that she could be talking about in your mind, but this can’t be happening.

“What are you saying Wanda?”

For the first time in the conversation her eyes meet yours. You see the fear in them, the uncertainty, the desperation. Her hand let’s go of yours and finds itself on her bouncing knee.

“I don't want to ruin this and I'm so scared of losing you, but if you would’ve died in that alley not knowing that I’m in love with you it would’ve destroyed me.”

You feel your heart beating against your chest. Your mouth opens and closes a few times as you try to find your voice. You find yourself stuttering for the first time in years, “Y-you w-what?”

Wanda stands abruptly trying to run from the conversation. This makes you panic and try to stand as well. However, you forget about your ankle and yelp at the weight you put on it.

Wanda’s arms are quick to steady you before you do anymore damage to yourself. She’s close to you and you swear you can hear her heartbeat.

“D-did you s-ay-” you give up frustrated with your reappearing stutter.

Wanda’s grip on you tightens slightly, “I’m in love with you.”

“Wanda I- you’re married,” you look back at Natasha only to find her staring at you.

She stands from her place on the couch, and closes the gap between the two of you.

“I have my own feelings for you Y/n,” Natasha is confident as she speaks.

Her assertion makes you turn red, “Y-you also?”

Natasha smiles sweetly, “Maybe not love just yet, but I could see myself falling for you.”

This situation was short-circuiting your brain, it felt like you were dreaming. This couldn’t be real. As you stood between the two woman it felt like less of a dream.

“I loved you before they sent you away,” you blurt out to your friend’s sister.

Once you start it’s like the words just pour out of your mouth, “You were way out of my league. You’re still out of my league, I mean does it get more taboo than falling for your best friend’s older sister. You’re just so easy to love, but I never thought I had a chance and then you came back with a wife; a very beautiful, very intelligent, ex-Russian spy of a wife, and I just knew I didn’t have a chance.”

“The chance is now. Admittedly, we don’t know how something like this works, but I think we can figure it out together,” Wanda levels with you.

“If you're interested,” Natasha adds on, leaving the ball in your court.

“It would’ve been nice if you guys had told me before I got a cut on my lip. I could’ve done the whole dramatic kiss to cut you off,” you tease them.

Wanda rolls her eyes, “If I could shove you and you wouldn’t fall over, I would.”

“You talk to every woman you’re in love with like that?”

Natasha chimes in, “You get used to it after awhile.”

You share a laugh and when it dies down Wanda speaks, “So we’re doing this?”

“I want to try, but I don’t want to ruin your marriage,” you speak honestly.

“You won’t,” Natasha declares with certainty.

“How do you know?”

She thinks for a moment, “The love Wanda and I have for each other is endless, I’ve never for a moment thought anything could break it up. We’re not changing the way we love each other, we’re just adding you into the already existing dynamic. Eventually it should end with the three of us loving each other endlessly. Does that make sense?”

You nod slowly, “It sounds perfect.”

Natasha places a kiss on your cheek like it’s second nature to her, “Good.”

Your ears heat at the contact and before you can respond Wanda places a light kiss at the corner of your lips.

The movement leaves you wanting more. Against better judgement you try to lean down and kiss her. You succeed in placing your lips against hers for a brief second but as you pull away you almost fall again.

Natasha is the one to steady you this time. She teases you, “Someone is eager?”

“My ankle doesn’t want me to be great.” you pout.

Natasha hesitates, but delicately she touches her lips to yours. It’s as quick as your attempt at kissing Wanda.

“Your ankle won’t stop us, bunny,” Wanda looks at you with shining eyes.

Your face heats at the nickname that’s only familiar to you in the woman’s native language. The women chuckle at the pigment of your skin.

“We’ll see who’s laughing when my lips don’t hurt and I can kiss you properly,” you try once again standing on your own.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Wanda lets her eyes fall to your lips.

You roll your eyes, “Stop teasing, and help me get ready for bed. This has simultaneously been one of the best and one of the most painful days of my life. Truly unforgettable.”

Natasha speaks first, “I’ll get some stuff ready for a shower.”

“I’ll help you to the bathroom,” Wanda finishes.

It’s an all too similar feeling as you find yourself perched on the bathroom counter with Wanda standing between your legs.

Her fingers play with the end of your shirt. She looks at you for permission and you give her a light nod.

Slowly as to not aggravate your injuries she takes your shirt off. She’s careful as she unwraps the bandages from your torso.

“You’ll need help in there,” she speaks softly as her eyes scan your body.

“I know,” the pain starts to catch up with you.

Leaning forward slightly you rest your head on her shoulder. She smells good and it calms your nerves.

Wanda can’t help herself as she speaks up, “Isn’t this a familiar scene?”

You raise your head off of her shoulder and smile, “It’s ringing a few bells.”

Natasha enters the restroom with some towels and pajamas, “I’m going to get some food going, if you guys are alright in here?”

Wanda nods, “I’ve got her, Nat.”

Natasha nods and proceeds to exit the bathroom, “Just holler if you need me.”

Wanda steps away from you to turn the shower on. She’s back in front of you in no time.

“How do you want to do this?”

You feel nerves as you speak, but you try to sound objective, “I think you should join me. Not because I want to see you, not that I don’t want to see you. Its just I can’t really stand and-”

She quiets you down by pulling her own shirt over her head. Her feet pad against the bathroom floor as she makes her way back over to you. Wanda’s hands place themselves on the top of your pants. Her movements are slow but sure as she begins to pull them down. She takes extra care when they're around your ankle.

Once they’re off she takes a step back swiftly removing her own pants. The only thing left on both of you is your underwear.

The sound of the shower rings heavily in your ears as you watch Wanda take her bra off. You can’t move even if you want to. Your eyes glance over her chest before following her hands path lower. She’s not teasing as she removes her panties.

Once again you find yourself with her standing between your legs, but this time there was significantly less fabric in the way. She reaches behind you back to place her hands on your bra clasp.

“Y/n, do you mind if-"

“Take it off,” you finish for her.

She does as you say, a shaky breath releases from her. Your bra falls off your shoulder, but you keep looking in her eyes. Her hand slides down from your back and her finger hooks around your underwear.

“Take it off,” you repeat in a hushed tone.

She follows your instructions. Her eyes snap back to yours. The two of you stare in silence. There’s an underlying tenderness to the moment.

Wanda’s hand reach for your waist, “Ready?”

You nod and she assists you off of the counter. The water hits your skin and you sigh. You enjoy the heat against your bruised skin. Wanda’s hands stay in place for a moment just keeping you steady.

It's a silent delicacy as Wanda soaps up a towel and begins to gently clean your skin. You marvel at the lightness of her touch.

She turns you around so you face her. You look down at her and can’t help but brush your nose against hers. You hear her breath hitch. Carefully you use your hand to guide her’s across your body.

Neither of you dwell as she cleans every inch of you intimately. You lean against the shower wall a bit so Wanda has room to wash herself. You take in the details of her body as she cleans herself.

She gets out first and then helps you put the pajamas laid out for you on before dressing herself.

“I love you,” you say it easily when everything is done.

Wanda places a kiss on your forehead, “I love you too.”

Wanda helps you to the kitchen table. Your eyes find Natasha moving about in the kitchen.

“Almost done, I know you’re tired lisichka. We can eat then get in the bed,” Natasha speaks to you.

“Thanks Natty,” you look at her with your hand on your chin.

“Did you re-wrap her torso detka?” Natasha asks her wife.

Wanda snaps her fingers, “I knew I forgot something.”

“Take over here, and I’ll do it?”

Wanda agrees to these terms. Natasha goes to fetch the medical wrap and quickly returns. You’re sitting down, so Natasha kneels to be level with your torso.

Carefully with tentative hands, she lifts up your shirt. Her hand finds the small of your back, to encourage you to sit straight. You follow her instructions.

“Tell me if it’s too tight, okay?”

You’re looking down into her eyes and you momentarily get lost in them. The hues of green draw you in like emeralds.

“Baby,” she says again a little more firm.

You snap out of it and nod, “I’ll tell you if it’s too tight.”

She brings the wrap around your torso multiple times, each time looking for any extensive discomfort in your expression.

When she’s done with your torso, she quickly does your ankle. Your ankle was more sensitive, so she made sure to be extra gentle.

“All set, lisichka,” the woman places a kiss on your forehead as she stands up.

“Food is ready,” Wanda announces bringing plates for the three of you to table.

At this point exhaustion was knocking at your door. You eat in comfortable silence and once you’re finished, they help you to bed.

When your head hits the pillow, you almost fall asleep instantly.

“If I didn’t want to kill him for what he did to my father, I’d kill him for this,” Wanda says to her wife.

“The men involved have been dealt with already,” Natasha relies to her Wanda.

“You work fast malyshka,” Wanda places her hands on Natasha’s hips.

Natasha looks at your sleeping figure, “I’d move at the speed of light for either of you.”

Natasha ends her statement by kissing Wanda.

“I love you,” Wanda pulls the woman closer to her.

Natasha smiles pecking the woman’s lips once more, “I love you too.”

The two of them climb into the bed, making sure to give you adequate space due to your injuries.

“Why does this already feel so natural?” Wanda questions.

Natasha answers instantly, “It’s just meant to be like this. This feels like the final piece to our little puzzle."

Wanda was more than content with that answer, closing her eyes, unable to fight rest.

Somewhat like before, but entirely different at the same time, the three women lay together.

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#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #wandanat x reader #the family business

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scatterbrainedart · 10 months

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I know I've literally talked about this before already but I need to do it again more in depth because I'm deeply ill. Anyhow.

Crowley was there at the creation of the universe. He was there as nebulae sprung into existence and time came to be. He slipped the switch of existence itself. And upon hearing how it all would shut down in just a few thousand years he was really upset. Because the universe was precious to him, and he wanted to see it flourish to its full potential.

Even then, Crowley wanted to fight for its right to exist. To be. He cared about the world to point of falling. He spent 6000 years on Earth, learning about and cherishing all it had to offer. The world is morally gray by default, and it's the only place in Crowley's existence that is. Therefore, it suits him, I think. Much more than either heaven or hell ever have or will, at least.

But, in the end of season 1, all of that was about to be lost. And what got him to act in order to salvage it? Aziraphale threatening to never talk to him ever again.

Let me say this again. The world was ending. The thing he cared enough about to had fallen for was all about to be destroyed forever. But the worst thing to Crowley in that moment, the highest stake and the worst possible loss, was the loss of Aziraphale's companionship. Not even "we will all die or stop existing and therefore won't be able to see each other anymore" but "I will just refuse to talk to you for the rest of time". That was the threat. And it worked. It raised the stakes. Stakes that were already about as high as they come, and quite awfully personal.

Crowley care more about Aziraphale than he cares about anything else. And Aziraphale knows that, otherwise he wouldn't have trusted that the threat would work. But he did. And it did.

Crowley is also desperately lonely. Just inherently so, in his very existence. There is no one else like him, in the way he's so gray in a world so black and white. I literally have a whole other post planned for that rant though, so I'll spare you it for now. But yeah, I'd imagine he has felt like the loneliest being in existence for the fast majority of it. His loneliness comes across a LOT, but it's most apparent in those moments of desperation. Where he is risking losing that one connection he managed to make. Like a last ditch effort kiss, harsh and unpleasant. It hurts to have it taken away, on such a deep level. Just like there is no one like Crowley, there is no one like Aziraphale. At least not to Crowley, not by a mile.

Crowley's desperation to keep Aziraphale in his life is not only because of his love for him, but also because of how if it's not Aziraphale, it's no one. And just like that scene where Aziraphale eats food for the first time and reacts as if he's just realized he's been starving his entire life, Crowley now knows what it's like to have someone by your side. To be a team, a pair. And he clings to that like the famished cling to their first and last warm meal.

#good omens 2 #good omens #good omens spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #gomens #crowley #good omens analysis #crowley analysis #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #crowley and aziraphale #scatterbrained rambles #meta #good omens meta

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dameronology · 2 years

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timing's a bitch (s.h) - 1/5

s u m m e r ' 8 6

you'll be the saddest part of me, a part of me that will never be mine - the loneliest, maneskin (x)

"if you have chemistry, you only need one other thing...timing. but timing is a bitch" - how i met your mother

a.k.a a.k.a the three times that steve harrington chose the wrong moment, the one time that you chose the wrong moment, and the one time you both got it right (series masterlist)

You made Steve Harrington cry the first time you met him.

He still remembered it clear as day, even though it had been in first grade. You'd thrown a Lego brick at his head and stuffed sand in his mouth, promising that if he ever touched your pet worm again (his name was Sherm, if you were wondering) that he would pay. After some negotiation and charm from his part - and the promise that he wouldn't make his parents call yours - you had become best friends. You brought balance to one another's lives, even from a young age. Steve was always a little more calculated and thoughtful in his actions, sticking to the sidelines at playtime and always worrying about his hair. You, meanwhile, had always run headfirst into danger, with scrapes on your knees and glue in your hair. Ying and yang.

You never left Steve's side and he never left yours. Things came close when the popularity really got to his ego in sophomore year, but it was nothing a whack across the head couldn't fix. The threat of telling every person at Hawkins High about his Farah Fawcett hairspray secret also very quickly humbled him. He owed you a lot of apologies after that phase.

Things were better than ever by the time graduation rolled around. It hadn't really hit either of you that this was it; that Hawkins High would no longer be your world. It was scarier for you than it was for Steve because he knew deep down that he had probably peaked in high school. He had no college lined up; while you'd gone and gotten yourself a full scholarship to NYU, all he'd done was argue with his parents about his grades and why they wouldn't foot the bill for him to follow you to the city. The world was about to become bigger and scarier. The prospect of you being thousands of miles away only made it worst.

"Just one year," Steve begged, "just take one year out. The new mall is gonna be hiring loads of people and you can save up a butt ton before you go to college-"

"- I am not taking a year out, Steve!" you exclaimed. Reaching across the center console, you gave his chest a whack. "I worked my ass off the last four years so that I have enough money to go now."

"Okay, don't think about money then. Think about..."

He paused, trailing off.

"Think about what?"

"Spending time with me before I go?" he meekly asked. "We can have loads of fun! Just me and you, y'know, having one final year together before you leave me forever."

You groaned. "Steve, we've had all summer together. Also, I'm not leaving you! I'll be home literally every few weeks."

He forced a smile, eyes focusing on the road ahead. This was his last two days with you before you moved and he didn't want to spend it being sad. It was just that his heart ached in a way he never thought it would. A thousand times more than when his parents didn't show for graduation; even more than when Nancy Wheeler left him.

Steve's glance flickered over to the photo tucked away into his rearview mirror. It was a Polaroid taken over the summer; you and Steve were stood between your parents, armed wrapped around each other as you were grinning in your caps. Maybe his parents hadn't shown for him on graduation, but yours sure had, with flowers and hugs and affection for you both. Hell, they probably wouldn't have minded if he moved into your room once you were at college. It was definitely something he thought about.

"Summer doesn't feel like enough," he muttered. "Doesn't it scare you that things are changing?"

"Of course it does," you replied. "Change isn't always bad though. Things can't always stay the same, Stevie. Me staying home an extra year isn't gonna delay the inevitable."

Steve glanced in his wing mirror, indicating off the highway and pulling into your driveway. You'd had to beg him to come and help you pack; even though he'd acted like he didn't want to, he was secretly delighted at the idea. In fact, he was secretly delighted at spending any time with you.

After yelling a quick hi! to your parents, you both bounded up the stairs and into your bedroom. It was pretty much stripped now, years worth of blue tack and marks and scuffs on the wall. Your entire childhood packed neatly away into boxes; some for college, some for the attic, some for the dump. Steve in particular was drawn to the pile of photos on your nightstand. It was you and him through the years - some were a little dog-eared and frayed, but the two little kids smiling back at him never faltered.

He put them down and glanced over at you. You were sat on the bed now, having discarded your clothes for a pair of sweats and one of his hoodies. He'd leant that to you last year after a day at the lake - naturally, you'd gone running in totally unplanned in your clothes. He'd stood at the side the entire time, too scared of getting his hair wet.

That had always been one of his regrets; holding back. Not just the day at the lake, but the time you'd gone tree climbing and waved to him whilst he waited at the bottom. The time you rode all the big coasters at Coney Island and smiled at him as you went by. You were always going a thousand miles an hour and Steve just fucking stood there, waving as time passed him by. And now you were about to loop-de-loop right away from him.

He watched as you frowned in concentration, hands scrawling away at a messy to-do list. Pack, buy new toothbrush, apply for job, find class schedule. It was the most organised he'd ever seen you.

"You're being awfully quiet," you commented without even looking up. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing's on my mind."

"Steve, please," you scoffed. "You've been my best friend for fourteen years. Don't try and act like you're not deep in thought about something. What is it? A car? A girl-"

"- kind of," he said. "I was thinking about...us."

You peered up at him, eyebrows creasing. "Us?"

"Yeah. Don't you think we're pretty great?"

"Yeah," you smiled. "You're my best friend, Steve. Nothing will ever change that."

Steve sighed to himself. Wasn't that the whole problem? You were friends. Best, best fucking friends. And even though it was no secret that you yourself had little thoughts and feelings about him, they never seemed to overlap. You'd liked him when he dated Nancy. Then by the time they'd broken up, you were hooking up with the Dungeons and Dragons kid who had been held back two years. Then by the time that ended, Steve was onto his next fling.

And now you were going away. Maybe that's why he was yearning.

"Nothing at all?"

You frowned. "Nothing."

"Not even this?"

To be honest, Steve wasn't really thinking straight. Plagued by nothing but regret and hankering, he threw aside your to-do list and dove across the bed. His hands found your waist, pulling you towards him with might. It didn't take a genius to work out what was going on; even though his actions took you by surprise, you still tangled a hand in his hair when his lips came down on yours, the other finding it's way to the loop of of his best.

He pulled you closer, tongue slipping inside your mouth. You didn't mean to let out a gentle moan as he did, but fuck. Steve Harrington was a good kisser and it was annoying that all those rumours you'd tried to ignore in high school were true.

Steve sat up, pulling you into his lap. He moved his lips from yours, moving down to just below your ear. You didn't protest, instead dropping your head in the crook of his neck.

It wasn't until there was a knock at your door that you both jumped.

The sound was like a cold bucket of water over your head, snapping you back to reality. Fuck. You'd just made out with Steve. He had never been the King of Hawkins high to you; he was the kid that tried to kill Sherm over a decade ago. The same kid who got yellow braces because he thought they looked cool. The same kid that secretly cried every time Vienna by Billy Joel came on the radio.

"Honey, how's packing going?" your mum called. "I'm going to the landfill early tomorrow so make sure that you-"

"- yeah, I will!" you cut her off, trying to catch your breath. "Thanks, mum!"

There was the fall of footsteps as she walked away, leaving you and your best friend to sit there and deal with the consequences of your actions. You were still sat in Steve's lap, cheeks warm with something that wasn't quite embarrassment. His chest was heaving in time with yours, eyes refusing to break your gaze.

"What the fuck did we just do?" you asked.

"I...uh...I kissed you. And you kissed me back, and then I put my hand here and you put yours there and-"

"- it was a rhetorical question!" you exclaimed. "Oh my god, I'm still sat in your lap."

Rolling off of him, you landed on the bed next to Steve. You immediately pulled your hood up, tugging on the strings so that it tightened around your cheeks and hid your face. The worst part of all this was that you'd enjoyed it. Had the universe - in the form of your mother - not interfered, you had no doubt in your mind that you probably would have fucked your best friend. That certainly was a jarring revelation.

"Did you..." you began, but then paused. "Had you thought about doing that for a long time?"

"Yeah, I guess," Steve admitted. "Not like constantly but there's been moments over the last few years. And then I saw you sitting there in my clothes and we're about to say goodbye and-"

"- no we're not, Steve," you grumbled. "Because I'm going to see you at Christmas, and then like every weekend after that, and...Jesus Christ. Was that meant as an impulsive thing or an actual thing?"

He shrugged. "I wouldn't kiss my best friend of fifteen years just for one night. I could go out to a shitty bar downtown and find anyone for that."

"Why now?"

"Can you blame a guy for shooting his shot?" Steve tried to joke, but you didn't laugh "I mean...yeah. Maybe I was thinking about you and I being more than you and I. It seems dumb now."

"Your timing is fucking awful, Steve Harrington," you gave him a small smile, gently running a hand over his face. "You could have asked me at any point before now and I would have said yes."

"But?"

"But I'm moving half way across the fucking country in two days!" you exclaimed. "You're my best friend and I love you but our lives are about to change. The stakes are too high and you are far too important for me to risk losing, okay?"

Steve smiled, giving you a nod. It could have been worse - it could have been a straight up no. A why fuck would I ever love you? or a broken nose. It was still rejection, but it was just...timing. Bad timing. Maybe he just had to wait.

He was okay with that.

taglist: @marauderssworld @boybandbaby @karasong (lmk if u want to be added!)

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trainerbede · 6 months

Text

okay, I'm still trying to maintain optimism in the face of despair but the way some of you people talk about actual, real Palestinians on this site (on any site where Palestinian voices have any reach whatsoever, really) is so vile.

the fact that I have seen multiple "block-lists" telling people to straight up ignore and/or report accounts that all happen to be predominantly talking about the situation in Palestine, and most of those accounts just so HAPPEN to be actual, real Palestinians living abroad is so eye-opening. like, okay, wow. so you really don't care about Palestinian voices at all and are in fact looking for any excuse to twist our words and make us look like terrible people. you WANT to ignore Palestinian voices the moment those voices say anything you disagree with.

some people will pretend to care about what's going on in Gaza, as long as the Palestinians in question are perfect, tragic, faceless victims whose only pleas come from thousands of miles away. but the moment a Palestinian is angry, is fed up, has things to say that aren't just tragic resignation to being genocided, those same people want us to shut up immediately. the hypocrisy fucking reeks and I'm tired of it.

Palestinians cannot even talk about the genocide that is literally happening to us in real time right fucking now without our own opinions on the matter being talked over and dismissed, without being written off as "dangerous" and "violent" and "people who shouldn't be listened to." our every expression of anger is criticized and demonized, and yet I have to see people accusing an actual, living, breathing Palestinian of only caring about the genocide in Gaza "because it's like an internet fandom for them," as if the only reason Palestinians living abroad are this outspoken is for some kind of """fandom clout,""" as if speaking up in support of Palestine isn't currently costing people their jobs, their scholarships, their opportunities, let alone getting them doxxed on certain sites.

the people saying this shit to Palestinians are fucking abhorrent, how do you not even think twice before you say this shit. or is it that you did think twice and you just really don't see us as living, breathing, mourning people after all?

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animentality · 6 months

Note

You ever think about how the fandom will go nuts trying to explain how Astarion is ~basically~ an elven child and how he’s absolved of all guilt for everything he’s done by the abuse he endured and yet… on the other hand we also have Gortash, who very literally was a child when sold to the hells and put through who knows what manner of abuse, saw who knows what messed up shit, who has had chances to do better, yes, but has also had to fight to survive and be more than just a beggar on the streets once he escaped. And he’s the totally evil and irredeemable one according to most fans. I’m not trying to woobify him btw, it’s just always interesting how every other character gets defended on the basis of “but cult conditioning/abuse/etc” but Gortash is uniquely the worst man alive. Which he is, but also. Cmon. Astarion has a long list of innocent victims and is a razors edge away from becoming the next cazador in any given play through and yet he’s a perfect uwu angel apparently. This isn’t about saying Gortash isn’t evil, this is about saying he’s not drastically more evil than a lot of other nuanced characters in this game who get defended by the fandom masses.

ANON if I could kiss you, I would commit tax evasion with you.

THIS.

Like I know Gortash is awful, but so is fucking everyone.

Shadowheart can become a Dark Justiciar and do awful things for Shar. Lae'zel and the githyanki are a bunch of pricks who kill their own kids for showing weakness and kill innocent people all the goddamn time. Minthara obviously slaughters a bunch of innocent refugees, if you allow her to, and as a drow, probably committed a cavalcade of evil actions.

Gale's blind ambition could've nuked a fucking town. He might not have intended to become a living bomb, but he did, and by running around Faerun, he WAS putting literally everyone within like five miles of him in mortal danger. Wyll would've killed Karlach if you weren't there, and he expresses this horror, because he has definitely killed innocents for Mizora before.

Astarion would've gladly become Cazador 2.0, if you didn't stop him. He might've started out ok, but he would descend into that same evil, using you until there was nothing left of you, and treating others the way he was treated, because he sees himself as a god now.

Even fucking Karlach...who is a sweetie, and god I love her...well fuck, didn't Gortash accuse her of knowing just how shady his shit was? She was a desperate kid, yes, and he definitely took advantage of her, but he explicitly calls her out for working for him, even though she knew he was shady (if not a Banite). Plus she was his bodyguard for years. As if your bodyguard wouldn't know you were being a peace of shit?

The WHOLE POINT of Baldur's Gate 3 is that you and your companions are defined by your choices.

The option EXISTS to SAVE THESE PEOPLE.

THERE IS NO OPTION TO SAVE GORTASH.

The game gives you the option of seeing him die one way or the other way.

I'm just SAYING it's not totally fair to act as if Gortash is truly irredeemable, when out of all the villains, he at least had an idea of a better world, even if it was still self serving and frankly awful.

He was slightly better than the Dark Urge, and they GET the choice of redeeming themselves.

He never does. And maybe he wouldn't have taken it, but that's really not the point.

You hit the nail on the head, bud.

Gortash is evil, no doubt, this is true, he is not just a victim of circumstances, he made every wrong decision he could've made...

But the fandom has no problem woobifying Astarion even though that scene with Sebastian is fucking soul wrenching.

They raise their hackles at Gortash, as though he's been alive for 200 years and lured thousands to their deaths/vampirism, and they forget that Lae'zel is absolutely awful, and approves every time you murder children in front of her.

And Shadowheart spent her childhood learning to torture people.

You can say well their crimes aren't equivalent- and yes, that is true, HOWEVER.

Remember that you have met them when they were powerless.

If given power...if they had never been mindcontrolled by parasites...well shit, they might've fucking killed you.

They might've become tyrants themselves. I know it's purely conjecture on my part, I just kinda...I don't even necessarily want a redeemed Gortash storyline.

I'm fine with him just being a villain!

I just also have a working brain that doesn't understand the reflexive urge to say, he couldn't redeem himself if he tried.

I think, in this fictional world of course, that redemption should be possible. I think if they are honestly trying, and they repay the debts they incurred, then it might be justified.

But we didn't get that choice, and neither did he, and honestly, with what the game presents...I can whole heartedly say no, he wouldn't have redeemed himself. Even if he could, he would not have done it.

But the possibility does exist.

Trying to deny it makes you look like a hypocrite as you insist Ascended Astarion is still an uwu baby.

Like nah, sweetie. Good luck with that.

#enver gortash #long post #discourse children

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homesickn · 1 year

Text

Isn't Bite Also Touch?

(Loki X female demon!reader)

Chapter 8! — read it all here.

Summary: You and Loki have the first training practice together with the Avengers.

“Who the Hell is Ediel?” Clint asked. “I swear you are bringing people for free from now on.”

It's the first training practice that you're joining along with the Avengers.

“I agree with Hawkeye.” You say, a hand holding your foot up in your stretching. You're all preparing yourselves before starting the exercises. "The Avengers are just accepting free forms at this point.”

“I never even heard this name Ediel in the Bible,” Clint comments, shrugging his shoulders. “Not that I've really paid attention.”

“Maybe it's a made-up name,” you say as if you don't know the truth.

“I love how you're just gossiping about him as if you don't know his life,” Thor brings up with a smile. You give a smile back, sticking your tongue out. “It's kind of funny.”

“Listen, dude. I'm just saying,” There's a twinkle to your expression as you share. “Maybe…if you search for his pictures you'll see his real name.”

“You're the first person that I've ever seen call Thor a dude,” Nat says and you laugh.

“I literally couldn't care less.” Clint expresses with a tired grunt, referring to all the Ediel talk. He was wrapping some bandage wrap around his fist because it was covered by a large bruise.

Ediel was taking pictures somewhere else, it was understandable to say that the humans loved Ediel, since the party scandal. They adored him, it left you infuriated.

He wasn't even that special, you could do so many more things than him, you were overly powerful, your powers crossed the limits throughout Hell and Earth. You were a child of Satan.

Yet, he was what they wanted to take pictures of. Bunch of fools.

They're pathetic.

You cross your arms as you look at the team preparing their places, you angrily mutter out your thoughts of him. “Idiot, he's a fool.”

“Anyone from a thousand miles would be able to hear your angry mumbling.” Loki says, coming to your side, crouching down to where you stood sitting near the wall.

“I'm not mumbling, I don't do that.” You cock your head, barely turning to face him. “You know, you were nicer to me when you didn't know I was a demon,” you muse.

He looks at you, amused by your sudden statement.

“When I first saw you you seemed like the most powerful creature my eyes had ever seen,” you blush at his words, that does leave you a bit baffled and speechless. “I wasn't anticipating any family issues in your life story.” He says, remembering the Angel.

You grunt in annoyance, still with your arms crossed childishly.

“As I said, you don't know me.”

“That's right,” he looks elsewhere. “I despise you.”

That stings a bit more than you expected. How could he claim not to like you? You've barely ever done anything to him.

“Just now, right?” He looks at you with curiosity, and a frown. “You didn't hate me when we first met. You were kind.”

He looks around the room as you say that, quietly remembering his pleasantry when he thought you were just a very powerful witch. He didn't want to think about being too soft and trusting with a demon, but you've done nothing if not show him loyalty and… friendliness.

And on the contrary to his beliefs, he was feeling yet stronger every day, after spending it with you.

He thought you'd weaken him. He thought he should keep himself away.

He tried to shake away the small bubbling guilt he started to feel. He could see the little bruise, almost non-perceptible, that he'd left on your lips.

“Honestly,” he clears his throat. “I feel like it makes sense for me to doubt your truth.” He tries to explain, he knew you were lying to him about something you wouldn't tell.

You tilt your head arrogantly.

“Well, then you can despise me very far away from me,” you shoosh him away with your hands, like you're guiding a dog out. “Go, go, leave me alone.”

He looks incredulous, kind of entertained by your gestures.

“You can't treat me like that, are you serious?” He says, but he's smiling at your funny attempts to stop him from bothering you. “I'm not a dog.”

“One day,” you confidently start. “I'll make you my little pet. My dog, a very misbehaved stray for me to train. Mark my words. You'll kneel at my feet.” He feels the power behind those words reach his groins as he shamelessly gives you an infuriating smile.

“Don't threaten me with a good time.”

“I'm being nice, you literally compared me to a–” you paused dramatically to say the next word. “bug, if you remember, from earlier, a bug.”

“Forgive me,” he said, smiling at you. It didn't feel very sincere.

You were quite shaken from his behavior, as much as you love playfully annoying him, his constant emotional barrier strikes you by surprise at times.

Surprise only, not sadness. You wouldn't let yourself feel inferior for that, much less his silly offending names during rough sexual acts.

Besides, you like it when he's rough too.

Steve arrives a few minutes after, taking your attention away from the annoying god by your side.

He brings his hands together and begins to explain the exercises you were about to practice, also, how every single training is depending on your specific powers and strength as an individual.

So you should have a partner that matches your level to fight with, and as there's no other match for magic…

“I guess you could say that's me.” Loki points at himself when you look for a partner.

“Look, I would fight you, of course,” you lift your hands up to him as you explain. “But frankly, I don't want to kill you.”

“Kill me?” He laughs. “You're so funny, little demoness.” He conjures his knives.

“Now be careful you two. We don't want to ruin our training with a real murder, we already have enough trouble at bay.” You quirk your eyebrow to Loki from Steve's words.

“See, you fool?” You make sure to make your hands a bit reddish with your powers now, warm enough to burn as you touch him, but not enough to be perceptible to others that you're using pyrokinesis. “No killing.”

Loki sees your little trick, he can feel your magic as you're close, and purposefully makes his hands colder too, he could only hope they didn't turn blue.

As you go for the first attack he hisses from the burn, he grabs your wrist and you feel the freezing touch on your skin.

“Oww!” You jump from the cold and feel the needle pricking sensation on your flesh. You gasp as you point accusing him. “Cheater! You're using ice powers! I didn't even know you had these.”

“You get caught unaware and assume I'm cheating now?” You take the moment of his distraction, and jump to fight him in another hurried way, like a wild beast.

He catches you by your hips while you keep hitting his head with your fists giving very burning sensations. Nothing truly harmful, so it doesn't step the limits.

He complains and winces from the touch. “We should agree on no pyrokinesis, to keep the battle fair.”

“Am I hurting the little prince?” You manage to ask, smiling devilishly as he still holds you up, attempting to take you off of him.

“You truly are an annoying little imp, aren't you?” You feel the softness behind those words, your attacks now getting less intense. The others don't stop their training, you keep your focus on Loki's moves.

He manages to push you off of him with a blast of his green seidr, you fall on one of the comfortable mats on the floor, proper for practical fighting.

You giggle as your body hits the ground, you give a thumbs up to him as you cradle your lower stomach. “Good one, man, you got me.”

Loki doesn't know why he feels this… guilt as he watches you, the same position, you, on the floor. Quite the same as earlier but now your words rang in his ears.

You don't know why he's standing there like a fish left in thought, but you take the moment to lift yourself with easy flexibility, giving a superhero stance as you run towards him again.

Your powers make him hit the wall, he grunts and gives you a smile.

“Didn't hurt. Is this the best your powers can do?”

“I told you, I could kill you if I use them too much, be careful.” You tease and feel the magic tingling your veins, it excites you whenever you can use it freely like this. You were almost jumping like a kid from excitement.

“As much as magic may be a fascinating sight,” Natasha says, and you turn to face her. “Please, don't break anything in the way.”

Bruce was sitting on a little chair as he spoke up. “Yeah, preferably everything in place.”

Loki grabs your arm and twists your body with his to the ground, hovering you again, and licking his lips. You feel the shock to your core as you look up his eyes, he gulps as he looks down into yours.

“Don't turn your back to your enemy, you really do need the training lessons.”

You smile. “Well, I don't have to practice. I don't need to.” You easily turn his body around, pinning him down this time.

He hungrily gazes your figure up on him, straddling him, then he catches your eyes again.

“See? I can do anything I want, sometimes you tend to forget.” You wink and press yourself closer to his chest, almost reaching his mouth as you speak.

“This doesn't look like the usual training we have around here,” Tony mutters, peeking from the open door. “This is why I don't participate in these things.”

You lick your lips and move to guide Loki's body up with you, he relents and attaches his hand to yours as you two move to stand up.

Once it's done, you stare at the sight of your hands together, you twist it a little, like a creature facing something unusual, analyzing it. It's not something you usually do.

Nobody really ever held your hand, even in a situation as casual as this was.

He untangles his hands from yours. You feel the wish you could grab it back.

“Let's keep training.”

“Who do you train with?” You ask Thor, taking a breath from your training with Loki.

“With Loki, but you stole him from me,” he says, not very seriously, smiling at you and handing you a bottle of water. “My brother and I fight together all the time, it's almost tradition between us at this point. He's the only match for my Asgardian strength.”

It feels comforting to see the familiarity behind Thor's words, he's really nostalgic as he talks of his experiences of battle and training practices with his brother.

“But it's great to see an equal match to him, one that shares magical abilities too,” he continues.

“It's rare those moments that you come to compliment me or my skill set,” Loki snickers at his brother.

“I always speak the world of you,” Thor's words felt too honest, too impactful to a level you felt you were interrupting something personal about him, and his family.

You're in awe, his brother truly loves him.

But who are you to say anything to Loki? You know how he must feel. Left to always be the one in second place, his brother destined to have the throne.

Your eyes glance at the others still in action, your muscles ready to continue the fighting but you take the time to ponder your thoughts.

That's why Loki must be so restricted, so distrusting. He questions your every move, just because of your nature.

You don't want to take Thor's side and tease Loki's moodiness, besides, it's not really your business, you don't know what they've been through.

“Do you want to train with him a little? We can keep going later,” You offer to Thor, and say the second part to Loki.

“Are you really selling me like that?” Loki asks jokingly with a smile.

“Yes. It's a very easy deal,” You say, the golden brother laughs and pats Loki's back.

“Let's do some battle moves, just like the old times,” Thor moves to grab his weapon, Loki doesn't seem excited, but he definitely seems used to it as he readies himself. “Then you will show the lady your fighting techniques.”

You smile at the two, glad to be an audience.

“Just know I'll be rooting for you!” You loudly tell Loki, he stops short on his steps, processing your words. Then, he quietly moves to prepare for the training with his brother.

Some hours later, you find yourself walking towards Stark's common lab to pester him.

“There's a lot of new people coming around,” You say, shrugging your shoulders as you share with Tony. “This is ridiculous, why so many? Why do you even need so many people around?”

“This tower doesn't stand by itself.”

“It actually does, that's how buildings are made.”

“No, no, stupid, I meant the work around here. S.H.I.E.L.D and the Stark Industries.” Tony brings up, checking some files. “You're just complaining because your brother is getting pampered by the media, it's a good thing, at least it covers your face from the news.”

“My face in the media should be a delight, humans should be grateful. AND, you should know better than to call me stupid,” you meekly threaten.

“You don't scare us.”

“Because I choose not to,” your voice is cold.

“Right,” he pretends not to care. “But what is the matter with that? Having many people around.”

You sigh loudly as you look out of the lab, unfortunately seeing that there's one of the female agents talking with Loki. A blonde, high-pitched voice woman.

“Like, who the fuck is she?” You point to the woman close to Loki.

“Oh, that's Clair. She's one of the best in the business.”

“I bet she is,” you angrily muster. “Such a pathetic human name.”

“She's also incredibly Christian, maybe that's just your demon side speaking,” you pout from Tony's words.

“Cheer up, sis, no one's stealing your man from you.” Ediel shows up and you give him an angry stare.

The lab was usually chillier than the common areas of the Tower, you wondered why Tony felt the need to keep everything cold and so robotic-looking, but again, you're not the scientist here.

“You shouldn't even be here,” you bring up. “All of your species are insufferable, always bringing up their noses where they weren't called.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Tony swears, passing his hand down his face in disbelief, and clear annoyance. “Could you shut the fuck up? Honestly, I'll pay for you to leave the house.”

You smile impishly, tilting your shoulders up and down in joy. Still smiling even as you look over where Loki is.

“Deal.”

“Wait, what?” Tony is confused.

“I want to go out!” You plead like a child. “But I can't go by myself…”

“Poor Loki,” Ediel looks at the ceiling to avoid your face. “Not only is being held hostage here but has to deal with you and your possessiveness.”

A tilt of your wrist has his voice disappearing, surprising Stark with the sudden use of your magic like that.

Ediel touches his throat and tries to figure out what's wrong with his vocal cords, because you've removed it with magic.

“Finally, some peace,” you sigh, then smile to leave their presence, moving towards the loud lady bugging Loki with her presence.

“Loki!” You call loudly, interrupting with a shake of your hand eagerly through the air. “Loki! Loki!”

He almost rolls his eyes, but holds back a smile.

“Pardon,” he whispers to Clair. As you reach over, he puts his hand close to your stomach to stop you in your steps. He says your name. “Don't do–”

“Who are you?” You ask the woman whom you already know the name of, the sparkle in your eyes holding fake politeness.

“Don't do anything irrational,” Loki's low tone orders, his timbre almost vibrating through your brain like a purr of a kitten, but he seems a bit too serious when he says these words. “Please, I know you.”

You gape at him and put a hand over your chest. Looking at the girl who's sheepishly looking back at you, shy now.

She introduces herself calmly, you nod to recognize it but still pay more attention to Loki's insinuation.

“I'm not going to do anything, such a lack of trust! You need some therapy, man,” again, he sighs off, from the term, squishing his eyes shut now. “Therapy, some talking would do you good, for sure.”

He passes his hand over his face in annoyance, you close your arms around him. He just puts his hand on your arm to steady you.

“I'm a god, I don't need these things, a Midgardian giving me tips on how to live my life,” you're surprised he doesn't push you away, just keeps his hand over your arm, so you can look up from his chest.

He looks down at you to see you talk.

“Do they have therapy in Asgard?”

“We do, we're just too proud to face it sometimes.”

“So that's just a general experience then. Good to know,” you don't want to waste his good mood too much.

Clair's just shamefully trying to move away to leave you two alone, trying to sneak out. You could only chuckle, the sound muffling against Loki's chest.

“You drove her away,” he states, not sounding harsh or upset. His hand caresses your back now, he also pushes your hair behind your ears.

“I tend to do it a lot.”

“They're scared of you.”

“I know that too,” you could hear his heartbeat. “Do you know we're allowed out?” He knits his eyebrows, surprised, maybe it's a lie.

“How?”

“I tricked Stark, I think,” he can't hold back his smile from your sentence.

In Asgard, Thor was the one that was considered the role model, Loki always tried to be like him.

He recognized from an early age that his methods and thinking were too different from his brother's, it upset him, even his sense of humor contained more wit and tricks, his tricks would always bring the fun to the scenes most of the time.

It was somewhat devilish from the Asgardians perspective, the tricks, Loki wasn't naturally aware of how socially devious his pranks were.

Thor was always the one being praised, the more he tried to copy that, the lonelier he felt when he didn't receive the same treatment.

The tricks felt like an escape, something that's his, his magic did that too. The mischief suddenly didn't come only for battle tactics or parties, or to call for the attention of his parents.

It became part of him, it grew within him, he couldn't get it away. To a point, he became known to it. Everybody knew of his tricks and lies, they grew popular and infamous.

There were a lot of problems that came with being popularly known as a trickster, obviously. But altogether, it felt quite lonely.

Something he thought to be inherently linked with being a trickster, and the God of Lies: you get no one's trust, no one sticks with you, he should grow used to loneliness.

His mother was the only one who's always seen him in a different light, even if it's difficult for Loki to admit— and he isn't going to say this outloud; but he knows she loves him. She loves him, she motivated him to learn more magic, she's one of the only people who could find the fun in some of his harmless tricks. She often says she's proud of his intellect, respecting him for all his individuality.

She's the only person he resented not seeing from this deal of having to stick to Midgard. She's the only one he truly misses when he thinks of home.

His mind often convinces him most of the time that all she did was out of guilt, for lying to him for his entire life.

He doesn't know why he feels so sour, that's why he's refusing to think too much about home lately.

But you?

Your bright eyes locking with his, he could only hope you don't hear the quick pounding in his chest.

You came into his life with all he's been criticized for in his life, sharing it with him and not feeling ashamed of it for even a second. And for the first time, he's found someone who truly seems to admire all the powers he has, who shares the same mischief as him. A demon.

He never knows what to do with this information, he doesn't know what to think, it's like a huge barrier prevents him from trusting you.

Whenever he thinks too much about your trustworthiness, the reminders of his time under Thanos' grip hit him like the blade of a sharp knife. He could still feel the phantom pains from the bubbling heat burning his skin, from the chains holding him as he tries to remember how it feels like to be safe.

And he'd often try to forget how painful the lies they told hurt him, he tried to think of home, searching for a feeling of safety, but it'd only bring him further down his pain, it would stick inside and mix with something traumatic, and bitter.

It's difficult, he still doesn't feel free. The nightmares make that, you make him doubt your loyalty, what if he wakes up one day and he's still there?

Out there, dehydrating and begging for peace in his mind, feeling his bones weaken under his usually so tough skin. It still gives him goosebumps, he swallows in anxiety.

His hand is still on your back, you're curiously looking up at him.

“Too deep into his own thoughts for me to see it,” you think, you're not so sure you, actually, wish to read his mind.

“Earth to Loki?” You ask. He brings his gaze to you again.

“Unfortunately, I'm still on this godforsaken planet,” you laugh.

“I'm going to make sure we can go out.”

“As in, like, from the Tower? Forever?”

“I was thinking just for like, a park or something,” you pretend to think. “But yeah, we can discuss escaping later. I have my ways.”

Taglist: @mischief2sarawr @dangertoozmanykids101 @lokidbadguy

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wyn-n-tonic · 5 months

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Not to get too sappy on main but for all the curveballs that life threw at me in the last year, 2023 was a really good one for me in so many aspects.

On New Year's Day last year, I probably should've been in the hospital. The only reason my doctor did not 302 me was because I didn't have anybody to watch my dog so he just called me every day and if I didn't pick up the phone, he was going to send the police to my home.

I am so grateful to everybody on here who helped me during that time last year to keep my medications while I was unemployed. I hate asking for help, I was raised being told that it was rude to do so, so I have a bit of guilt about it and I will never be able to fully say how appreciative I am. So many people on Tumblr helped me stay in a headspace where I was able to make decisions for myself and obviously, as an adult who lives a thousand miles away from family, that was very important to me.

It allowed me to stay in my home, take care of myself, and work on the next chapter of my life without feeling like a deer in a bear trap.

In the six months that I was unemployed last year, I wrote 300,000 words and so many of you have laid your eyes on so many of them, I am in awe every time I think about it. And every time I talk about it. And every time somebody else talks about it to me.

So, 2023 great things:

After six months of unemployment and thinking about my next move and trying to move away from the mental health field, I was recruited by an organization that works closely with mental health but ultimately is not mental health. I really didn't think that I would like it but now the only thing I can imagine doing that isn't this is if I were a full time writer.

I went to the Eras Tour with @amneris21 in my home state. It was incredible to meet her, I'm so grateful that she included me in her ticketing group, it was the kindest thing. I regret that we didn't take more pictures but singing Fearless in the pouring rain was an honor and I wouldn't have wanted to do it that with anybody else.

Literally a week before our concert, she texted me and said that somebody in the ticketing group dropped out and asked if I had anybody I wanted to invite along. I called my sister (found family) eighty times before she picked up and I screamed so loud that I'm pretty sure I didn't need the phone to be heard all the way in Chicago and I am so amazed and thankful that I had the opportunity to bring her along and that I was in a place where I could make that her birthday present as well.

At my Eras Tour date, I told nobody what I wanted my surprise song to be because I did not want to jinx it. After months of thinking I wouldn't be able to go, I was able to go and one of our surprise songs was my favorite song and then she announced Speak Now (Taylor's Version) and then I cried so hard I gave myself a nosebleed.

boygenius altered my brain chemistry.

I got to travel to Arizona to see @marvelousmermaid for her birthday and I would do it again and I regret that I couldn't stay longer.

I got to see my dad!

I wrote a book.

Great things upcoming in 2024:

My book comes out this year!

(If I can ever feel good enough about a draft.)

(And a name.)

(You'll be able to buy it wherever books are sold.)

(Name and cover coming soon.)

(You can follow @wynharper for sporadic updates because I forget it exists.)

#personal #blah blah blah #shut up wyn

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void-occupation · 5 months

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I'M NOT DEAD!!!!!!

I have finally returned and have decided to post my most recent fixation for everyone to see. (I've been through this song and dance before but now everyone gets to see it). Also, it's not angst related?????? Who am I and what have I done with the real Void-

Optimus Prime has to repeatedly be told that he cannot in fact adopt every animal that happens to cross his path, and he has brought back everything from boxes of cats, to a stray dog, to a whole ass mountain lion on one particularly memorable occasion. HOWEVER, there is one animal he absolutely refuses to take home, and even attempts to avoid contact with at all costs. This giant alien robot who has fought in a continuous war for thousands of years will place more trust in Unicron himself (who he has literally almost died fighting) then he will in a goat. Specifically the screaming variety. The humans and most of team Prime had never seen Optimus get truly freaked out by anything - that is until he stepped into the base one day and promptly froze on the spot.

A recent sandstorm had destroyed someone's fence and a few of their goats got out. Bumblebee - taking after his sire obviously - saw the animal wandering around the desert and decided to take it back to base until the kids could find out where it lived. Optimus, who was just returning from his patrol, did not expect to return and find that the literal spawn of satan had invaded his home, and therefore was not ready to confront this secret phobia of his (especially not in front of his friends and family). So,,,, he walks in and just,,, stops. Doesn't even blink. Ratchet hasn't seen his optics this wide since he was Orion Pax. The worst part? This fucking goat is just staring him down. No mercy. Optimus can practically feel the pure malice this thing radiates as he tries to remember how to vent.

No one understands what kind of staring contest Optimus and this goat are having, but you could practically cut the tension between them with a knife. Suddenly, this goat just fucking s c r e a m s and Optimus promptly loses his damn mind. He lets out the highest pitch screech he has made in his centuries-long-life, and trips over himself in his haste to get away from this nightmare spawn standing before him.

Long story short, even after watching it happen, no one knows how Optimus scrambled up into the rafters, but he is now refusing to come down until the goat is gone, and is keeping an arm-cannon aimed at it at all times. Yes, he hears at least half of the bases occupants laughing their asses off at him, and yes, he hears Miko practically crying through her laughter, but Primus damn it he is not coming down until that thing is gone, Bumblebee so help me-

Eventually, the goat is removed from the base, and Optimus finally makes his way back to solid ground. His faceplace is practically glowing blue with his embarrassment, and he won't make eye contact with anyone for at least the next two hours, but now that the goat is gone, he's fine. He has to live with the jokes about it from everyone there for the rest of his life, but no matter how much they pester him about it, he refuses to divulge the story about the origin of his incurable fear of goats. He plans to take that story with him to the all spark (He eventually tells Ratchet and Bumblebee, the former of which promises never to tell another soul, the latter attempts to do the same, but accidentally tells Raf, who accidentally tells Miko, who purposefully ensures that everyone else knows by the end of the week. (Optimus isn't too mad, the story is actually quite funny as long as he is not within 3 miles of a goat at any point in the telling of the story.))

#optimus prime #tfp optimus prime #transformers prime #bumblebee #tfp bumblebee #ratchet #tfp ratchet #miko nakadai #tw goat #as a former owner of a goat #I can confirm that they are the spawn of satan #I loved Molly #but I also wished I'd let her previous owners eat her #definitely ooc optimus prime #but that's okay #everyone is scared of something #it just so happens that the giant ass leader of the autobots is terrified of goats

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utilitycaster · 1 year

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@burr-ell replied to your post “I think some of it is joking but a lot of the...”:

i've never encountered the coin hatred! like are people mad at the coin for Gods Bad reasons, or are they mad because the coin flip 'made' fearne revivify orym instead of laudna and thus temporarily got in the way of Cute Girlfriends

You know, it's not entirely clear so I left this out because it's all highly speculative, but anyway, untagged thoughts on that:

The most vitriolic stuff I've seen is kind of projecting onto Fearne's ambivalent feelings about the coin and turning it into something that I think is much stronger and more unkind than it is [ie, saying in about as many words they hope Fearne makes FCG eat his damn coin when Fearne's position is, quite literally (per a direct quote from episode 3x51) "I trust you. I'm not sure if I trust the coin."]. I have definitely seen this sentiment more from people who do ship Imogen with Laudna than those who don't, but I'm truly not sure if it's anger at the revivify choice - and if it is, since that was Fearne in the end who used it, that feels especially weird.

I think in the end it's a combination of not liking religion, which, sorry pal but this is D&D and if the main villain of the campaign is like "We should unleash something to eat the gods," religion is going to be a pretty present and intense theme; and as a few people have noted in the tags, the fact that people tend to accept Sam's characters only on the condition they serve as support for their favorite characters.

So with that in mind, I do strongly suspect it's also folded into the Cute Girlfriends situation. It was pretty common fanon in those circles that Sam was a shipper on deck (genuinely unsure why; the most I can think of is that FCG wanted Imogen and Laudna to make up when they fought but like, FCG wants everyone to get along and they would have done the same if say, Fearne and Orym got into a fight; and Shared Dream, which was really just for Imogen). Then, pretty much immediately following the murder bot reveal, Sam actually relaxed and grew into the character and started making interesting choices, and I've seen increasing resentment ever since, which is funny, because FCG irritated me from episodes 1-31 and then from episode 32-present has been on an absolute hot streak.

There's a significant overlap with people who were also furious that FCG went into the Grand Disc because Imogen might die (babe, this is D&D. you hear a loud crash beneath you, you investigate. also Imogen can do magic from like 400 feet away and literally half this party are healers.) and who were mad he brought other party members into the Shared Dream (which, Imogen could have requested this only be a her and Laudna thing, but didn't) and that FCG encouraged Imogen to talk with her father. There's also overlap here with the people who felt Deanna should primarily exist to further Imogen's feelings for Laudna, so yeah, my suspicion is "already doesn't like religion, and then the clerics have the gall to have personal interests and goals that don't center around the ship, and to find renewed/growing comfort in the gods in a crisis? Bad."

It also feels very whipping boy to me - like, I think people are mad at the narrative itself for splitting up Imogen and Laudna for what is shaping up to be at least weeks in game time and months in real time; I think they're mad that their ship is demonstrably not, in fact, the heart of this campaign and that the Uthodurn arc is very good to the point that people who fell off C3 are catching up; and I think they're terrified both that Imogen and Laudna could, potentially, die thousands of miles apart from each other without ever having kissed and that Imogen is not just trying to burn every spell slot and knocking herself out with the psychic damage trying to reach Laudna but is in fact still going about her life. But they can't let themselves be mad at Laura and Marisha about this (even though literally it's their choice that Imogen and Laudna haven't kissed), nor admit that the campaign they've been so vigorously defending is now going in a direction they don't like, so they're just heaping all this onto FCG and their coin. Anyway, good news is after the incredible Commune scene most people have gotten really fucking quiet.

#burr-ell #off topic but while I do not want this there is a certain dark hilarity in imogen dying specifically of psychic damage from failed sending #gift of the magi (sad trombone version)#cr tag

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wordstome · 6 months

Note

For the character ask game! ❤️

2. and 3. (Favourite and least favourite canon thing about König)

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

9. Could you be roommates with this character 🤪?

14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

25. What was your frst impression of this character? How about now?

2. My favorite canon thing about König His enormous co— Considering there's so little canon content of him, every little detail about him has become an integral part of his characterization, so it's hard to pick a favorite. But if I had to, it's probably his sheer anonymity: the other operators, even the fully masked ones, have a full name. König is just the German word for king. Girl...who the fuck is this guy??? Combined with the sparsity of his bio, his whole vibe is incredibly mysterious. You could launch a thousand headcanons on him and they check out. He's just a fun character to come up with ideas for.

3. Least favorite canon thing about König His voice actor...look, I want to make it very clear I respect Jim Boeven's work. He's great at his job and his work as König is both well done and provided a lot of sorely needed insight into his personality. I don't even dislike his voice itself: a lot of people on tiktok (children) don't like his voice because they think the accent is goofy or they're disappointed it's not Corpse Husband-deep. I think his voice is really sexy and has so much personality. But man...I wish his voice actor was a better person. Or at least stayed off the internet. (This doesn't bother me as much as it bothers other people, though. I just forget Boeven exists most of the time)

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in? Oooooh, delicious idea. I've actually played with the idea of putting him in different aus/intellectual properties, everything from Star Trek to ACOTAR-style high fantasy. But the answer is very obviously A Song Of Ice and Fire (Game of Thrones). I mean.........come on. Come on. He's like if the Mountain oozed sex appeal (Sorry to Gregor Clegane fuckers) and was slightly less awful (at least König works to take down human trafficking cells). There's this scene in the first book at Daenerys's wedding to Khal Drogo where part of the celebration is that there are dancers and Khal Drogo's men just grab them and fuck them right then and there. It's clearly meant to be shocking and not a turn-on, but the way it was described was literally all I could think about while reading Fatum. Good God.

9. Could you be roommates with this character 🤪? Yes and we would have the nastiest se— Look, I'll be honest with you. In real life, I would stay a million miles away from this man. I would never even have the chance to cross paths with him. But if we just happened to become roommates? ...yeah, actually. As a military man he probably keeps his spaces tidy as a habit, and he'd be gone most of the time on deployment while still paying his share of the rent. He also likely keeps to himself and wouldn't be bringing around friends to disturb me (my poor guy). I'm not conceited enough to think that I'm so gorgeous and sexy that he would be too intimidated to talk to me, but I do think he would avoid interacting with me in general, which ideal in a roommate for me. In exchange, I pretend not to notice my underwear going missing or that I don't hear him say my name while he jerks off! Win-win.

14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character. I need to go find these posts and add them to the Königcore bible, but there's this one post with accompanying art that's basically like "kpop boy airport fashion Horangi x dad on a fishing trip König" with a picture of König in these waders and it's so cute. Also that one post about several COD characters' fashion senses, where König's mostly consists of jackets and sweatpants. I love both of those aesthetics! My favorite outfit to imagine him in, of course, is a black compression shirt and gray sweatpants with no boxers...

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now? First impression: the hood is both creepy and corny as hell Now: *slams down an essay-length diatribe on him as a character* how much time do you have to hear about my insane boyfriend

#hii salome ily #ask game #answered #kneelingshadowsalome

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rileytakeda · 5 months

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The San Diego airport is tiny compared to LaGuardia, but somehow no less busy. Riley sits at her gate, motionless with her carry-on at her feet, eyes staring at the faint stain on the ugly patterned carpet. It's the typical hum of travel, with the whine of jet engines and the chatter of families overtaking everything. She got a coffee from the stand just past security, more of a habit to have the drink than anything, and it sits untouched on the table next to her.

The events of the five months play on a loop in her mind, from the conversation she'd had with Aria explaining everything that had gone on with her father, to the phone call she'd gotten from her mother not even a week later.

'It's terminal, Riley.'

With her father, it was easy. Despite the death of her relationship with Aria, there was really nothing else to it. Riley made the proper appearances, parroted the right words, and she left again, free to leave him in the recesses of her memories once more. When her mother called, saying that she had no one else, that was a lot harder.

Kathleen Takeda never raised a hand against her, rarely even had a bad word to say about her daughter. She was stern, yes, but Riley remembered sharing moments with her mother that she will always cherish, despite everything else. No, Kathleen Takeda's greatest sin was always staying silent when she should have spoken up. Riley had learned early on in her life that her mother would never be her savior, and that had been a harder pill to swallow than her father being an abusive fuck. And it made it easier for Riley to agree when her mother asked her to come home.

For the better part of four months, she watches her mother go from the peak of physical health to skin and bones. She deteriorates rapidly, quicker than even the doctors predicted, and Riley carries her through it all. She thinks that maybe the idea of a looming death will allow them to finally talk about the things they've tiptoed around for so many years. She thinks that with her father dead, maybe they can actually talk about the things that happened, and Riley naively even thinks that maybe she could get an apology.

But soon she realizes that is a pipe dream. Her mother avoids the topic at every turn, faking coughing fits until they turned real, or pretending to be asleep, all so she doesn't have to face accountability. The one time Riley presses things, it escalates into a fight that ends with a trip to the ER when her mother begins to hyperventilate. The doctor tells her then that she needs to keep the dying woman calm, that any type of exertion will be fatal for her.

Riley could have left then. She probably should have. What does she owe her mother at that point other than a giant fuck you? But she stays, still too afraid about what people would say about her for abandoning her. Too afraid to turn into her parents, who stopped giving a shit when it got hard.

Kathleen Takeda passes away a week before Christmas. She's given a burial befitting of a military officer and interred next to her husband. A surprising number of people show up despite the fact it's right before the holidays. Riley pulls it together literally overnight, and she realizes she never knew her parents at all. An unnamed soldier hands Riley a folded flag that she accepts with a solemn nod, with the sound of rifles echoing behind her.

"I'm sorry for your loss." Bang. "She was a great woman." Bang. "At least they're together now." Bang.

The chime of the overhead intercom interrupts her stewing with an announcement that her flight is boarding. The ticket price was obscene because of how last minute it is, on Christmas Eve no less, and she's stuffed into a middle seat, but she hopes leaving her hometown will finally allow her to fucking breathe once she's three thousand miles away from her parents' graves.

It doesn't. The air in the city smells like garbage and piss and she feels just as suffocated as she did in California. The cab driver curses at the traffic and flips off no less than four cars, and Riley doesn't feel as comforted as she thought she would. In the weeks leading up to her mother's death, Riley thought it would finally mean true freedom from her parents, like the last remaining tie to that part of her life would disappear and she could move on for good. But she's learning that grief is never that simple, and more than grieving her mother, she mourns the possibility of ever finding real closure from them. Coming back to New York changes none of that.

Her breakdown lasts well into the morning and she feels like a zombie as she starts to come out of it. The TV is playing some cheery black and white Christmas movie, where the middle-age overworked father remembers the true meaning of the holiday in time to bring home the perfect gift to his daughter, and Riley wants to laugh at the irony, but even that feels like too much energy.

"Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals," she mumbles to herself as her eyes slip closed, finally exhausted.

Finally home.

#[ self para ]#terminal illness tw #parental death tw #abuse tw #lmk if there's anything i missed #some insight as to where riley's been over the last few months

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olsenmyolsen · 1 year

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Three Weeks

Part 26 of On The Inside With Elizabeth Olsen

Word Count: ~6K

masterlist

Liz POV

It's been three weeks since Y/N left. Three weeks since I've spoken to my sister Mary-Kate and three weeks since speaking to Y/N's mother. I wish I could say that all of this was easy or made better due to the fact that I'm actively trying to live a life that doesn't involve me missing Y/N, but it sucks.

This is one of the hardest things I've had to do.

But here I am, waking up in my bedroom alone and sad, for you guessed it, the third week in a row. I think I've slowly morphed into my Character Leigh Shaw. That's who I am now.

A cold, depressed bitch missing her love and looking for answers.

Anywho, I did some of the cliche break-up things you're supposed to do! I cried while watching Rom-Coms and eating ice cream. I dyed my hair! Goodbye, dirty blonde, and hello, brunette Lizzie. I made sure to tell my friends that I was doing better when in reality, I was not.

Scarlett and Aubrey were quick to see through that shit.

That led to a very passive-aggressive forced lunch with a seven-month pregnant Scarlett and her daughter Rose who very sweetly had no clue what was going on. Colin was set to join, but I'm certain Scar made him stay home.

On the other hand, Aubrey called me out on everything once I spilled it all. But she wasn't as upset with me as other people had been. But she made sure that when I'm in LA that I stay with her since Robbie is still occupying our/my house. I told her that wouldn't be necessary since I have other friends and family to stay with but saying no to Aubrey is weirdly tricky.

Also, I took a page out of Y/N's book. Literally. I started writing. Okay, not like writing writing like Y/N but writing my thoughts and what I want to say the next to I see my Coffee Girl. I have a pile of envelopes ready to go. Each one is different but laced with love. They constantly stay in my purse. I'm afraid I'll lose them otherwise.

I know I haven't talked to her since, but.. this hasn't stopped me from trying. No calls, just texts every once in a while. Letting her know that I'm thinking about her and her safety. I know she's doing okay, thanks to certain people, but I can't wait to see that smile shine on her face whether I'm an inch away or thousands of miles.

I yawn and get the sleep out of my eyes before making my way into the kitchen. I haven't been eating the best or a lot lately, so maybe making a big breakfast will help today. It didn't help last week, but I can try again.

Waffles. Eggs. Cut up fresh fruit from my rooftop garden.

This is what I ended up making, and to my surprise and delight, I ended up eating a good majority of it. I compost what I don't eat because I'm not sure when I'm returning.

Oh, did I not mention? I'm flying to Los Angeles today.

I still have a couple of hours until my flight, and I packed last night, so I might as well water and say goodbye to my plants before making one final trip to Y/N's apartment.

Y/N POV

Today of all days, I have to wake up feeling like I got hit by a train.

Everything hurts. My head is pounding like a hammer. My nose is stuffed but also running. Every time I try to clear my throat, it feels like tiny needles are being dragged down my esophagus. This is awful. I knew something was happening, but I blamed it on allergies. I should've known when Nick said, "it's just a cough," he was lying. It's never just a cough. If he wasn't one of the nicest men I've ever met, I'd be so pissed at him.

Speaking of Nick. Since the last time he confided in me that he has feelings for my mom, nothing has changed. My mom knows but doesn't want to pursue a relationship. I understand her completely. I'm not saying I want to see her and Nick be together, especially since no one can replace Davey.

I know Nick wouldn't be, but that doesn't make it easier. But my mom and him have a perfect friendship right now. At the drop of a hat, they're there for each other. Wait-

What's that ringing?

I turn my head as I get pulled from my thoughts. I reach over and answer my phone with a scratchy throat.

"Hello?"

"Pumpkin? Are you alright? You sound terrible." Thanks, mom.

"I think Nick got me sick." My mom groans into the phone. "I told him to rest and that we'd have dinner together next time you visit, but no, he had to make a home-cooked meal for you."

That's sweet. I smile through the pain as she continues her rant. "He's just like your father at times, I swear." My mom laughs at her own words. I don't think she fully realized she just compared Nick to Davey, but I let it slide.

"Yeah.. so why'd you call mom?"

"Just wanted to make sure you'd be up and ready for today." I pull my phone away and see I still have a couple of hours until my flight.

Oh, did I not mention? I'm flying to Los Angeles today.

"Yeah, I packed last night. Remember one big suitcase." I try to stifle a groan as I sit up. But my sickness and back have other plans for me. If one thing is for sure, I can't wait to never sleep on an air mattress again.

"Oh, that's right! I'm sorry I can't see you off."

I roll my eyes, knowing how busy my mom is and that no matter what she says, she wants to keep me here. She practically didn't let me go last night after dinner.

"I know, mom. It's alright."

"Whose picking you up from the airport?" Oh, that's right, I forgot to tell my mom. "James. Max's brother."

My mom accepts the answer and starts telling me about how her morning has been so far while I fumble my way into the bathroom and begin searching through every drawer, looking for cold & flu medicine.

"What's that racket?"

Apparently, I was not as quiet as I thought. "Where's the medicine? I searched everywhere." I ask through a cough.

"Bottom drawer. Behind the green bag." I search precisely where my mom said, and she was exactly right. How do mothers do that? "Be sure to take some ibuprofen two hours from now as well."

"Okay, mom." I throw back the pills before scooping some water from the tap into my hand, drinking like a sick animal.

"Be sure to eat something too." My mom adds, but all I want to do is curl up on the couch and die. "Mom, I'm no-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence Y/N Y/L/N."

"Yes, ma'am." Great, now I'm in the kitchen.

"Oh, before I let you go, dear, what are your plans for your birthday?" Oh shit. My birthday is coming up. "No plans," I say, closing the fridge door with a shrug earning a sigh from my mom on the other end.

"Okay, let me know if you want to come back home for that."

I doubt it.

"Okay, mom. I'll keep you posted."

"Thank you, Y/N. Now I love you. Be sure to eat something and text me once you're on your way to the airport." I nod my head. "I will, mom. I love you too. Okay. Bye."

I end the call and throw my body onto the couch. I try to fight it, but before I know it, my eyes close, and I'm asleep.

Liz POV

They fixed the elevator.

The moving steel box's doors slide open as I reach my designated floor. Y/N's floor. With an envelope in one hand and her key in the other, I make my way to the door. I know she's not here. But a part of me still hopes I'll be in for a surprise when this door swings open.

And she's not here. In fact, the place is almost in the exact same position it was when I left it. Except it looks cleaner? Wait? Has someone been here? I take a couple of steps into the place and do what you're not supposed to do in every horror movie ever. "Hello?" I call into the quiet apartment.

I get no response.

Not fully trusting this situation, I close the door behind me and quickly search the place. It isn't until I find myself in Y/N's kitchen that I find a note stuck onto the fridge.

Hey Oslen,

Knowing you, you'll be back to Y/N's place more than once. But just in case I was wrong (I'm not), I went ahead and cleaned out her refrigerator and tidied up the place. You never know when she might come back, right? Plus, we can't have the place smelling like an old, run-down dumpster.

Anyways I'm sorry I haven't reached back out to you. But I'm happy to know that it looks like Y/N's case is finally on track to be over. Perks of having one of the hottest and best lawyers. ;)

Text me when you see this. And as far as I know. She's safe.

With care, Max

I fold up the piece of paper and place it into my back pocket but not before shooting a text to Max, letting her know that I saw her message and that I'm happy she's safe.

Reminding myself that I have my own piece of myself to share with Y/N. I take the envelope in my hand and walk it over to the coffee table. I hope she sees it. Maybe not tomorrow but some day.

After combing over the living room, I make my way into Y/N's bedroom. Knowing that there's not a murder in the building, I can actually look around to see the improvements Max made. Like for example, not more shirts on the floor. Instead, most of them are folded up on the bed or tossed onto hangers.

My hand immediately gravitated to one of the most recent pairs of shirts she wore. Yes, the pink-fonted Elizabeth Olsen picture collage shirt. I unfold the shirt and bring it up to my face. It still smells like her, but it's not as strong... I have to stop the pout from forming on my face. I've done it like crazy lately. I look back down at the shirt and start to get lost in a train of thought. Without another second, I find a small duffel bag and begin filling it with some shirts knowing that if I wear them out, I'll get seen. And if I get caught, they'll be posted everywhere. Everywhere- for one's woman's eyes to see.

"How did you get more bags?" My driver Mr. Bronson jokes as he takes them from me to place into the truck with my other luggage. "Technically, the one is a guitar case." This earns a sarcastic oooh from him.

I felt a little.. weird taking Y/N's old guitar, but it feels right at the same time. Plus, I keep remembering the texts Sam showed me from Y/N.

If you don't hear from me in the next couple of weeks, just know that I'm fine. Feel free to come to my place tomorrow. (Address) Take what you want.

Also, I don't want this guitar of hers to become lost or thrown out by mistake, and I've been itching to relearn to play.

"Ready?" Mr. Bronson pulls me from my thoughts. I quickly nod as the car slowly pulls away from the curb. I take one final look behind me to see Y/N's place become smaller.

Y/N POV

"Okay what about this." (Video attached)

That's more what I'm thinking.. but faster and don't be afraid to make it more Appalachian.

Y/N It's your song why don't you just record it.

Robbie, first off it's our song and I don't exactly have my guitar with me.. also the lyric is "I only want to be in the passing lane" Not "fastest lane."

Shit. You're right. This will be much easier when you're here.

Couple of hours. Thanks again. I know I've said it a million times but thank you

I should be the one thanking you. But fr stop it. We're helping each other. Also I'm just glad we're past the awkward stage. It's not everyday two exs become friends.(?)

Writing partners *

Writing partners

"Earth to Y/N."

I lift my head from my phone, confused, which wasn't the brightest idea. My head is still killing me. The pills are helping but not as much as I want them to. "What?" I ask whoever is begging for my attention as I close my eyes and rub my forehead.

"Just wanted to know if you needed any help with your bags. You okay?" A male voice speaks.

I pull my eyes over to the voice. It's Nick. He's standing in front of the now-closed front door. How long has he been here? Shit what time is it?

I quickly panic and look at the time displayed on my phone.

Whew. I still have some hours till my flight takes off. But that means we should be leaving soon. Airports are always an annoying hassle.

"Y/N?" Nick's voice is now softer as he sits down on the couch next to me. "You okay, kid?" I take a deep breath and try and clear my painful throat.

"Yeah."

I guess I didn't do a good enough job at the throat-clearing. Nick's face remains unchanged, but his eyes are filled with worry and guilt. He knows I'm sick. And he gave me his cold.

"Did you take medicine?" I gently nod, not wanting to hurt myself more.

"Anything you need?"

"I'm fine." Me saying that and looking "fine" are two different things, but I hate being sick, so dwelling on it makes it worse. Plus, Nick and I are becoming closer. In fact, anytime my mom was at work, and if he had time, we'd hang out. It didn't involve much. Sometimes it was just watching tv or grabbing lunch, but it formed this weird bond between us. Maybe I remind him of his late son, or perhaps he is just a good man. Or, who knows, maybe he's showing me he can be... something more. I don't know. What I do know is that I don't want him to be worrying about me right now. I got enough going on.

Nick looks at me uncertain but doesn't push it. "Are you all packed?"

"Yeah, I did it after dinner." Nick nods his head as he gets up to go to the kitchen. "Tea?" He asks without turning his back.

"Yes, please."

Liz POV

Paparazzi present as always.

They're lining up at the entrance to the airport, just alive and waiting. I guess word got around. I was showing up. I mean, it makes sense the paps would want a good photo of me. I've barely left my place the last couple of weeks so getting a picture of me "out of my cave" makes people go crazy.

"Mr. Bronson?" I ask while keeping my attention on the picture takers outside. "Could you help me with my bags?"

"Of course." I turn to see him already looking at me with a smile. "Hat and sunglasses on." He reminds me. "Ready?" I nod once I'm "disguised."

"Ready."

"Let's go." Mr. Bronson steps out of the car and opens the truck grabbing all my bags placing them on the floor before closing up the trunk. He comes around to my side of the vehicle and sets something next to the door. Before I can think about what it is, he opens the door reminding me to "keep your head down." I nod to him as he places the guitar case in my hand. "Might help." He adds.

It surprisingly works a little. As we walked by the paparazzi, far fewer pictures than usual were taken of me. The ones that knew who I was knew. The others, I think, were taking a gamble and thought I was some indie singer or something. Regardless. I'm here inside the busy airport, from one anxiety-filled thing to another.

Mr. Bronson left shortly once we made it inside. I thanked him profusely, which he, of course, shrugged off. All he told me was to "go get her." I guess he thinks I'm chasing after Y/N.

Speaking of...

I'm now sitting down, opening our very one-sided text conversation. I scroll back up to the last couple of texts she sent me. They make me smile. This was back before the ignored calls. Back before I screwed it up. Back before, I lost the one real thing I've ever known. I remember it.

"Excuse me?"

I quickly close and fumble to put my phone away at a quiet voice speaking to me. I look up through my sunglasses to see a girl. She must be 14 or so. How'd she get into this airport lounge? Doesn't she need to have a credit card and be a member or something? Oh God, is she lost?

I can feel my nerves begin to overtake me. Deep breaths, Lizzie.

"Excuse me?" The girl speaks to me again. Shit, I should probably say something.

"Hello." I give a smile as the girl's face lights up from me just speaking. "Oh my God, It's really you! I wasn't 100% sure. I was going to be mortified if it was someone else." I giggle, calming down a bit at the girl's tone and evident nervousness.

"What's your name?" The girl smiles again before it looks like she's trying to remember her own name. Oh gosh, seeing fans get like this makes me feel a little bad. I don't want them to get too stressed or nervous just from meeting another human being.

"Geneva."

I say the name back to myself internally before gesturing to the seat next to me since Geneva was just hunched over in front of me. "Are you sure?" She looks at me with such worry, but I motion again. "Please. It's okay." Geneva nods before taking the seat next to me. She looks like she wants to say a million things, but at the same time, she's too star-struck to do anything. I got time to kill, and I haven't really been talking to many people as of late, so I'll start.

"Geneva?" The girl turns to me- jaw dropped. "You said my name." I nod. "I did. Can I ask you a question?"

"Anything." She replies quicker than I would've hoped for.

"How'd you know it was me? And where did you see me from?"

Geneva points to her head. Leaving me a little confused. "Your cap." I lift my hand up to touch it. My LA Dodgers Cap? "It's like your calling card. You rep it more than any other celebrity. It's basically your own merch." She tells me with a smile. Huh, I mean, I guess I did buy Y/N her own cap for a reason.

I do wear it a lot, don't I?

"I literally bought one because of you. Oh, and I saw you from... over... there!" I follow where Geneva's finger is pointing. In the distance is an older man watching, waving at our interaction. So that's how she got in here. "That's my dad. I tried explaining who you were and why I was freaking out, but he didn't get it. I hope I'm not bothering you." Geneva quickly adds that last sentence in.

"Not at all. I was getting lost in my own world, so I'm happy you stepped over here." I tell her honestly. "Okay, good." Geneva appears to take a deep breath and relax a little after hearing that. I know that feeling all too well.

"So, where are you going?" I turn my body slightly towards Geneva, so she knows she has my attention.

"My dad and I are going to Oregon for a week."

"That should be fun." I instantly encourage the idea seeing that Geneva looks nervous. "I hope so. I don't like flying."

"That's okay." I go to say something else, but I see Geneva's wandering eyes look over my carry-on purse. "Where are you going?"

"Home." I point to my cap with a slight smile. Geneva slowly nods her head. "Filming?" I shake my head. "Not for a while."

"I loved WandaVision. I think it made Wanda my favorite." She mumbles that last part, but I heard her. "Oh?! Well, thank you, Geneva, but who was your favorite?"

"Bucky and Black Widow," Geneva replies, almost scared that she had another favorite before me. She knows I'm not the Scarlet Witch, right? I subtly laugh at her responses. "Those are cool characters. One is way cooler than the other."

"And hotter!" Geneva replies casually before realizing I'm not one of her teenage friends. She looks at me wide-eyed. "I-uh-I didn't- I'm sorry- don't tell Sca-" "It's okay. Your secrets are safe with me." Geneva still looks a little panicked, and it reminds me of the talks Y/N and I would have about her love of Black Widow.

I will say Geneva and Y/N are right. She is hot.

"Can I say something?" Geneva breaks the awkward yet comfortable silence that is building up in this loud airport. I gesture for her to keep going.

"I'm really sorry for how it happened, but knowing that one of my favorite superheroes or anti-hero or whatever you wanna call Wanda now was being played by someone who is a lot more like me than I thought was important."

This is a conversation that Marla and Rhonda told me that needed to happen. I have yet to publicly confirm that, yes, I am a part of a certain community now. All that's been said is that Robbie and I were no longer together and that I was seeing someone named Y/N Y/L/N—so hearing from a girl who can't even drive yet that I mean this much to her. It makes my heart warm up and break at the same time. I feel ecstatic that I can now be someone for people to look up to, but at the same time, I haven't done enough.

This needs to change.

I look over to Geneva.

"As I said, I'm sorry for how it happened, but you and your girlfriend look really cute together."

Girlfriend. I quickly use my acting skills and cover up and frown or look that suggests otherwise.

"Thank you very much, Geneva! Yes, we are cute, aren't we." I chuckle at the same time she does. "And I still look at Wanda as a hero, so you can too." I nudge Geneva.

Geneva looks down as her phone lights up. I didn't even realize she had it in her hands. "Oh, looks like we're about to board." Geneva looks up at me. "If it's not too much trouble, could I get a picture?" This child is so kind.

"Of course." I quickly take off my sunglasses as Geneva has the camera ready. I lean in close to Geneva, but not enough, so we're touching. "I won't take too many."

"I think a couple will be fine." I calmly but sternly tell her.

"Okay. One.. two.. three.. GAY!" My smile quickly morphs into a laugh that I cover worth my hand. I was not expecting the girl to say this. While laughing, another picture gets taken. "I can't believe I made Elizabeth Olsen laugh!" Geneva says a bit too loud for my liking reminding myself where we are.

It looks like we're done with the photos, so I quickly take the time to cover my face back up. "Thank you so much. Omg, this is the greatest thing I've ever taken."Geneva shows me, and it's a typical one, and then Geneva smiling as I'm dying of laughter. "I'm glad to be a part of it." In the distance, I see Geneva's dad making his way over here. I guess they're running a little late now.

"Thank you again! This means so much to me." I smile. "Me too." Geneva starts to walk away, but I stop her. "Geneva!" She quickly turns back. "Yes?!"

How do I say this?

"Do you mind waiting until tomorrow to post that picture? If you do it now.. the paparazzi will be worse in Los Angeles." Geneva thinks about my words. "Sure. I don't want it to be worse for you." I graciously nod. "Thank you very much."

"Of course, Lizzie. Happy Pride Month." Geneva waves at me before walking to her now crossed arm dad.

It is the start of pride month.

I quickly pull out my phone, exiting my text conversation with Y/N and opening the one with Marla and Rhonda.

"An interview needs to be made today. People need to know who I am."

Y/N POV

The ride to the airport was uneventful. Aside from the occasional small talk and "I'm sorry for getting you sick" from Nick, nothing happened.

Now we're inching the car closer to the departure zone.

"Hey, kid?" When he first started calling me that, I thought it would go away because of how annoying it was, but it didn't, and I've grown to like it.

"Hmm?" I turn to face Nick as his eyes are watching the cars in front of us.

"Is the reason you left New York waiting for you in LA?"

"No," I say without another thought to the question or to the pain in my throat.

"Do you want them to be?"

I purse my lips and think. I don't know.. I've been avoiding Elizabeth for weeks but saying that I don't want to see her at all would be a complete lie because I miss her. I truly do. For the past couple of nights, I've been having dreams and nightmares about her. Maybe that's what's making my move to LA easier.

"I don't know," I whisper my answer out as Nick nods his head and drops the subject.

"You know, getting to know you these past couple of weeks has been wonderful. I'm happy to know Laurie has such an amazing daughter." The car has now reached my drop-off area. I turn to the older gentleman next to me.

"It's been a pleasure getting to know you too, Nickolas." Nick smiles but rolls his eyes at the awkward way I say his name causing me to laugh, which I regret doing as my warm throat starts fighting me.

"Need help with your bag?" I shake my head no, but Nick is already out of the car, opening the trunk for me. Once I'm about, he's already wheeling my suitcase to me. "Text your mother when you land. She'll be worried sick otherwise."

"I will."

Without thinking, I wrap my arms around Nick and hug him. I feel Nick hesitate before doing the same. It didn't last long, but it was nice. "Thanks again for everything." "Sorry for getting you sick, kid." Now I roll my eyes. "It's alright. I'll see you, Nick." I turn around and start walking to the airport doors.

"Wait!" I turn around to see the car window rolled down with Nick leaning over the passenger seat. "Don't forget to check your bag! You're flying to LA; who knows what someone might do if it's left in the overhead bin." I shake my head at him like he's crazy until I remembered the conversation over dinner last night.

"Literally pee all over my luggage. Someone left their child's toilet up in the top, and during take-off, it flew to the back, smacking everyone's precious cargo." (A/N this story happened on a podcast I used to listen to)

My face morphs in disgust. I shoot Nick a thumbs up as he laughs at my face. "So long, kid!" And with that, I turn back around and head straight towards my airline's desk. Ready to check this bag.

Okay, so that took longer than I thought it would. Of course, it's the beginning of summer, and this place is packed. What was I thinking? Now I'm sprinting, yes, sprinting to my gate! Mind you; I'm still feeling terrible!

It's like a scene out of a movie. I make it to my gate just as the last couple of people are shuffling on. The ticket on my phone goes through, and now I can finally breathe! I follow the people onto the plane, double-checking that I have everything. Phone? Obviously. AirPods? Duh. Cards and ID? Front pocket because what if my bag gets lost because I listened to Nick? Okay, time to find my seat and get rid of this headache.

I picked the worst day to fly.

Does anyone watch the stewardess do the safety instructions in case something happens and you need to step up, or is this just my anxiety making me watch them?

Anyways I feel relieved once they finish up. The person next to me couldn't give a shit. They were on their phone the whole time, and let me tell you, they were getting screamed at by someone through text.

Which weirdly reminds me.

I open my phone. I never finished my conversation with Robbie.

wasn't ignoring you just got on the plane. I'll text you when I land.

After a couple of minutes, Robbie responds.

No sweat I started taking a crack at that other song All Eyes On Me. Are you sure this is suited for me?

Moody indie? Uh yeah dude.

🙄 Saving it for when you get here. have a safe flight.

👍🏼

I exit that conversation, and I'm surprised to see a text from Max I don't remember getting.

"Elizabeth stopped by your place again. I think it might be for the last time. She's leaving ny."

Oh wow. Trying to copy me, Olsen?

I'm trying to formulate a sentence to type back, but I get interrupted when the mean stewardess tells me to put all electronic devices on airplane mode.

I'll just text Maxine back later. As of right now, though, I think it's time to pull out my AirPods, put on a relaxing playlist and tune out that crying baby five rows ahead of me.

Liz POV

Even in first class, I'm nervous. I don't know what it is today, but my nerves are doubled. Ever since we touched down in my home state, I've had this weird feeling.

Was I wrong to leave? Is it wrong to come back home? I should've apologized and seen my sister before leaving. No, I should've fucking chased after Y/N when I had the chance. Oh, God. Should I change my sunglasses and hat?

"Miss Olsen?" I dramatically lift my eyes up from the spot where my engagement ring used to be to see the eyes of the kind stewardess saving me from myself. "If you'd like to follow me." I nod before getting up and following her like a lost puppy. Except lost puppies don't get the stink eye from people, you never met.

Once we make it to the gate, the stewardess leads me to a man waiting with my bags. Well, all except one thing. Y/N's guitar case. Also, who is this man? Why is he here? I can carry my own bags.

"Thank you," I say to the stewards, who gives me a tight-lipped smile before turning back onto the plane. I walk up to the man and thank him for gathering all my belongings, but I can take it from here. He obliges as I double-check that I do indeed have everything except the guitar. I do! So with my purse securely on my shoulder and the bags and cases in my hands, I make my way to baggage claim.

Y/N POV

Two naps in one day.

I feel better after the second one. Or at least I thought I did. My eyes aren't tired. My head isn't killing me. But my throat. My throat got worse. Yes, it doesn't pain me as much to speak, but it's extra scratchy, and anytime I do try and speak, it's not my voice. I sound like a different person. Oh goodness, I need cough drops and water quick.

A text to James, Robbie, Max, and my mom later, and I'm the last one off. I've never been that last one off a plane, so I guess I can cross that off my bucket list. Why is it called that? Anyways with no bags carried on with me, it's now time to try to find my airline's baggage claim.

Oh yeah, also, I've never been to LAX before, so this is a new terrifying experience.

I hate that I'm doing this by myself.

I shouldn't have listened to Nick. I swear I've watched hundreds of people come by and be gone while I'm still here. I literally watched a guy walk around the corner, come by, scoop up his bag and walk straight into a car waiting for him. What the fuck?

Also, some people have zero sense of fashion. I know I don't, but I was learning a thing or two from the Olsens. Plus, I'm gay, so it's different.

Anygays, after watching the black suitcase with red lining pass by for the 7,495 time, I'm about to give up when brand new bags start coming down.

I watch as the crowd around me starts to grow. I had to do a double take when I thought I saw a woman in an LA Dodgers cap hanging around, but I didn't see her anymore, and I have to remember I'm actually in California now, so that's probably normal.

Finally, I saw it! My large suitcase was making its way to me. Without much of a struggle, I'm able to pull off the belt and make sure that, yes, it's mine. I'm about to finally walk away when something catches my eye.

I watch as it slides its way down before slowly making it was past me. It can't be. I look over the stickers on the case. Surely someone else has my exact same ones.

Except no one has my Davey-made sticker for my high school track team. Only one was made.

And there it is.

I watch as the case passes the people to my right. "Hey." I croak out of my throat as I watch a hand go and grab the case. Shit. They didn't hear me. When did so many people get here?

"Excuse me." "Get out of my way." "Sorry."

These are all the things I'm spitting out as the power starts coming back into my voice as I'm rushing to whoever thinks they can't steal my guitar case.

How the fuck do they have it?

"Hey, stop," I call out once I'm behind the person. "You with the case!" Fucking unbelievable! They're ignoring me.

"Hey!" I clear my throat once more and get right up behind the person before grabbing the bottom of my case from them pulling them back towards me.

"Who the fuck do you think you are!"

Liz POV

It took long enough, but it's finally here in my hands. I'm surprised I haven't been recognized with how long I was just standing there waiting.

I thought I saw someone who looked a lot like Y/N peer their way toward me, but I lost them in the ever-growing crowd.

Anyways. It's finally here in my hand. I hear some commotion behind me, but I'm too tired to see what that's about. I just want to "Hey!" get to Aubrey's before bringing this guitar to Robb-

"Who the fuck do you think you are!"

I feel the guitar case being pulled from behind as my hand gets yanked back, turning me around.

"Hey!" I yell before our eyes meet.

Y/N & Liz POV

It's her! She's here in front of me!! Don't fuck this up.

Part 27

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