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#I know none of this is new guys I just have some thoughts
woso-dreamzzz · 1 day
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Nits
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: You come home with nits
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Sometimes, Magda has bad days at training.
Sometimes, none of her passes connect and she can't defend to save her life.
Sometimes, they're just all around bad days from the moment she leaves the house to the moment she gets back.
But she knows that a bad day can turn good very quickly once she calls Pernille.
It's still difficult to deal with the distance even through all the years and it's gotten even more difficult recently now that you've come into the picture but, still, Magda's day can go from bad to good by just calling you both.
So that's what she does today.
For a moment, the call goes unanswered before Pernille's face fills the screen.
She's smiling but it's a little tense but Magda's just glad she picked up.
She frowns though. "Are you in the bathroom? I thought bathtime would be over by now."
Pernille laughs, adjusting the phone to be propped up on the side of the bath by the taps.
Magda grins. "Hi, princesse!"
You're the one in the bath, hair dripping wet as you perk up.
"Hi, Morsa!"
"Hi!" Magda says again before addressing Pernille again," Did you guys get in late tonight? I swear bathtime is usually earlier than this."
Pernille grimaces. "We had to pop out to grab some stuff. I picked her up today to find out that her nursery had a nits outbreak and the princesse got caught in it too."
Magda's heart drops as Pernille drags a nit comb through your hair.
"What?!"
"She's got nits," Pernille says," Or, she did have nits. They're dead now. We're just combing the last ones out and then one last hair wash to check, isn't that right, princesse?"
You giggle. "Morsa, nits go itch-itch-itch."
"That's right," Pernille nods along," Nits do make your head feel itchy but not anymore."
"Not anymore," You repeat," 'Cause Momma goes pew-pew-pew to the nits!"
"I sprayed stuff in her hair and waited," Pernille translates, separating out the last section of hair to comb through.
"Did they hurt her?" Magda asks, feeling utterly hopeless on the other side of the phone," The nits? Did she cry?"
"They're just nits, Magda," Pernille says," They made her a little itchy but we caught them early. I'll keep her out of nursery until they send out an email giving the all clear and I'll start braiding her hair instead of keeping it loose."
Magda's a little sceptical. "What's a braid going to do?"
"It'll stop her hair coming into contact with other kids' hair as much," Pernille replies. She unhooks the shower head and turns it on, gently running the stream of water against your arm so you can tell her when the temperature is warm enough for you.
Magda raises a brow. "Can't we just take her to a new nursery? I don't think we should send her back to this one."
"Magda," Pernille says with an eye roll, getting to work with lathering up your hair with shampoo," She barely goes in. It was one day."
"One day too many!" Magda insists," Look at her! She should be in bed by now! She'll be exhausted tomorrow!"
You don't feel tired at all. In fact, you're very excited to be staying up past bedtime and you let Morsa know that.
"That's nice, princesse," She says," But I think you'll still by tired tomorrow."
"Tha's okay!" You reply," 'Cause I get to stay up late today!"
Magda sighs at that and Pernille just shrugs behind you, a soft smile on her face.
"Close your eyes nice and tight, please," She says to you," And close your mouth!"
You take a big gulp of air and squeeze your eyes shut as the spray of the showerhead runs over you.
Momma washes out the shampoo thoroughly before putting the shower down to condition your hair.
You open your eyes again to see Morsa on the screen and you giggle at the silly face she's pulling.
"I still think we should move nurseries," Magda says.
"Magda," Pernille rolls her eyes," That's too much hassle. Do you know how long waiting lists are? There's no point if she only goes in a few times a month."
"But she could get nits again!" Magda insists," It's not safe!"
"Children get nits, Magda," Pernille explains as she drags her fingers through your hair," It was bound to happen at some point. Look, she's fine, I'm fine. The nursery will tells us when it's over and then she can go back."
Magda sighs, tabling this discussion for when she's in Germany in person.
"Should I read her story before or after you dry her hair?"
Your eyes light up at the prospect of your bedtime story. You start bouncing in the tub.
"Story! Story! Story! Momma! Momma! Momma! Morsa's storytime!"
Pernille laughs, rinsing out the rest of your hair. "That's right. It is Morsa's storytime." She lifts you out of the bath and wraps you up tight in a towel before reclaiming her phone. "Do you want Morsa's storytime now or when you're all snuggly in bed?"
"Now, please!"
"Okay," Magda says," Why don't you and Momma grab your copy of the Jolly Postman and I'll grab mine?"
"Okay! Momma! Momma! Jolly Postman, please!"
Momma laughs as she lifts you up. "Alright, let's grab your book."
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lmao-liz · 2 days
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long distance video calls with soap
my first time writing anything and it’s smut ish. i’m usually a reader and recommender but god do I love this concept
cw: phone sex, mutual masterbation, vibrator use, voyeurism. (let me know if I missed anything)
you and johnny are in a new relationship. it’s your first relationship where the guys got an actual career. he’s someone important, he can’t tell you the details just that it’s demanding and can be dangerous at times.
you embrace the long distance phone calls and rare video chats. it’s worth it because when he’s home it's unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. you know he’s military or something along those lines, the time differences and crazy schedules make it obvious.
after a few months together he opens up. tells you about the team, his cap, gaz, and of course simon. how the long hours and being away all the time gets to the team, he’s pissed none of them ever talk about it.
him having someone to come home to, it changed his mindset, he feels bad for them. it’s empathy, a bit of pity. he’s having such a good time with you, it’s not new for him to want to share the things he loves with his teammates.
the team just got settled into bed, working for almost two days straight in some random country, everyone was out as soon as they hit their pillows, deployment’s running too long. it feels like an eternity since he’s seen you, felt you. he knows he has to keep external contact as low as possible, but the thought of seeing you. it’s his forbidden fruit.
he’s a catholic, in hindsight not a great one, he kills, does unspeakable things for his job. so what’s another tally? one that he knows he deserves, because he’s been working so hard, it would be worth it.
the video call only rings twice before you pick up.
5:33 am.
he should be sorry for waking you up, but he needs you. you answer in the darkness of your room face illuminated by your phone screen. the lights are off in the barracks but you can see him in his bunk, shirtless, an arm tucked behind his head.
he looks like the product of a wet dream. one of which you’ve had too many of to be relaxed seeing him like this. he asks you what you’re wearing, tells you he needs you. he’s desperate, working long hours, going through all kinds of shitty situations. he says he’ll return the favour once he’s home. you know he will, he always does.
you don’t resist when he asks you to lift your shirt. you know he’s been working so hard, it’s the least you could do. he tells you to grab the vibrator he got you just before he left. knows how sometimes you need it quick and strong, not afraid of you liking it more than him, he knows how desperate you get while he’s gone for long periods of time.
he’s whispering praise to you, you can see the movement of his arm behind the screen. the laptop propped up on his drool worthy abs. it’s quick, the vibrator hitting in just the right spot, johnnys not the only desperate one. you haven’t seen him in months.
johnny knows he should turn his volume down. the sounds of your pleasure are bouncing off the walls of the small barracks. he just can’t help himself, too focused on your contorted face, your sounds, the quiet hum of your vibrator.
it should be embarrassing how fast he comes, but seeing you, even through a screen, it's more than he’s had, his imagination can’t compare to seeing the real thing. his grunts and heavy breathing are enough to push you over the edge. you both writhe in pleasure, thousands of miles between you too, but it’s not enough to keep you apart. you’re even more tired, a good orgasm and seeing johnny, you know he can’t stay on the line longer, but you want nothing more than to actually get a chance to talk.
he tells you he’ll be home soon, make up for him being gone longer than he said he would be. he wishes you a good night saying he's got another busy day tomorrow. you blow him a kiss goodbye, making him promise to come home safe.
“alweys dae lass”
the call ends, you set the vibrator and your phone back on your nightstand, rolling over and drifting back into dreamland.
johnny sets the laptop to his side, wondering how he’s going to clean himself up without waking everyone up. just when he’s about to say fuck it and sacrifice his boxers, a box of tissues hits his shoulder. he catches it before it hits the ground and looks to the bunk across the small room, he can see the outline of the infamous skull mask staring back at him.
“didn't know you had such a pretty bird waiting for you back home, johnny”
he swears he sees simon adjusting himself beneath his blankets. but it’s dark, he hasn’t slept in almost 40 hours. it’s just his mind playing tricks on him right?
is this actually good? I like it but it’s a word vomit of my thoughts so i’m insanely biased. do I continue writing or stick to recommendations…
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makeyoumine69 · 2 days
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Memory Reboot x2
PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader
SUMMARY: After wrestling with the lingering thoughts of Bateman, you finally found yourself open to Paul Allen's offer — a life-changing opportunity. But despite your resolve, you couldn't shake the need for closure. Determined, you sought one last encounter with Patrick, intent on resolving the unsaid and the undone before the cityscape of New York faded into your past.
CONTAINS: Smut, angst, mutual pining, obsessive behavior, desperate & sensual foreplay, anal fingering, pegging, sex toys, face riding, penetrative sex, rimming (Patrick receiving), oral sex (69, blowjobs), edging, biting, spanking, cum shot, masturbating, praise kink, body worship, drug usage, pet names, dirty talk, needy Patrick, misogyny, swearing, gaslighting, manhandling, mind manipulation.
WORDS: 8.7k
SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent — Euphoria
A/N: Hello everyone, I'm sorry it took me quite long to write this, I hope you like it! If you find any mistakes regarding gn!reader, please let me know!
LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [CHAPTER 1].
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The clock’s ticking was the only sound in the opulent meeting room of Pierce & Pierce office. Your heart seemed to beat to the rhyme of ticking, while you were nervously spinning the thin cigarette in your hands but never really trying to actually smoke;  the glass ashtray in front of you would probably be left empty till the end of the day. It was even funny how drastically things changed after that…moment of privacy you shared with Bateman. Starting from that, you couldn’t really get him out of your head, even though it has already been several weeks of your pretending game of “nothing had happened” between you and Patrick. It was a matter of time, when your colleagues would start to notice your strange behavior whenever you and Bateman were in one room. 
Squeezing the cigarette between your shaky fingers, you turned around in the leather chair to look at the New York skyline through the wide window. ‘That it is not an exit,’ echoed in your ears and you tried to shake the nervousness off from your tense shoulders, but the more you were being alone, the more surrounding space was weighing on you as if you were on the very bottom of the Pacific ocean. 
The moment the door swung open and Timothy Bryce entered the meeting room, you were more in control of yourself. “Hey, Tim. Haven’t seen you in ages.”
“Sorry, (y/n). Had a business call with some delusional prick.” Bryce snarled and took a seat across from you.
“Delusional prick?”
"Yeah, you know...delusional," he chuckled and glanced at the cigarette in your hand, which was still more like an accessory. "The guy thought I gave a fuck about his life and his wife, who used to be a whore, by the way."
With a soft snicker, you made yourself more comfortable in your chair, throwing one leg over another. “Wanna smoke?”
“Yep,” he leaned over the table to take the cigarette, your fingers touched for a moment but none of you paid attention. “So, what happened? Why did you want to see me?”
Confused, you took a moment to think about your answer. You worried a lot about picking the right words, but now you were even more anxious. ‘I just need to tell him the truth and that’s all,’ you reassured yourself before turning to face Tim. “Well, the thing is - I’m quitting P & P.”
Tim’s face remained unchanged for a second, but then the man furrowed his brows, tilting his head and rubbing his ear as if he didn’t hear. “You're what? Quitting?”
"Right," you gave him a half-smile and continued. "Recently, I received a very... very good offer from one company in Chicago."
“Jesus Christ. Chicago? Really?”
“What’s wrong with it?”
Bryce lit the cigarette and leaned back in his chair. “Who the fuck even gave you this idea? And why so sudden? You have such a good job here, with a good salary and…” He paused and blew a few rings of smoke. “Do those bastards pay well?”
Laughing heartily, you crossed your arms over your chest and watched the smoke dividing the room in two with a white veil. “So many questions. Are you interested in leaving Pierce & Pierce too?”  That was not a serious question, since you knew that Bryce was more than satisfied with his job. “If I say who recommended that place to me, will you keep it a secret?” Tim nodded even before you could say something else. “I was at one P&P party, that one you decided to skip a week ago. So, there I met Paul Allen and we talked a bit and he mentioned that he just came back from his business trip from Chicago…we had a long conversation, but as a result he proposed to me to think about the option to change my current job.”
All the time while you were speaking, Tim was glancing at you with wide open eyes, his prominent brows curling up and down whenever you mentioned Paul Allen’s name. It was always funny for you to watch Bateman & Co getting so frustrated and annoyed whenever Allen was around or whenever someone discussed his success with having the Fisher account. To say the least, his ability to get a reservation at Dorsia. ‘I’m not gonna tell any of them that Allen offered me dinner in Dorsia after that party.’
“So you were unsatisfied with your job all this time and didn’t say anything? That sucks, (y/n). Didn’t expect that to come, not gonna lie,” Bryce made a low sound which was very similar to growling, but at the same time it also sounded like a scoff. “But, if that really is what you want, then who am I to judge you? We have only one life to fulfill all our needs, right?”
Timothy’s statement was like a balm to your soul, that was exactly what you hoped he would tell you and when he did, you felt some kind of relief washing over you like a breeze of fresh air.
“Thank you, Tim,” you finally grinned and put your elbows on the table. “Glad you didn’t start to read me notations.”
“Are you gonna tell him?”
“Him?” You squinted and tilted your head; your intuition was screaming that something was so damn wrong.
“Bateman,” with a sly smile, Bryce put the cigarette out in a glass ashtray; his glance was eloquent but you never really managed to read it. “I bet he will be upset. Very upset.”
“Bryce ” you rolled your eyes. ‘Is he lying or…?’ That question remained unspoken. “Leave these cheesy jabs to yourself, okay?”
Tim only laughed at your weak attempt to threaten him and stood up from the table. “You know, I saw him with Jean in Arcadia last night…” Now this information could come in handy… “I think they had some kind of date or something, huh,” he chuckled again and fixed his tie, giving the picture on the opposite wall a scrutinizing glance. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but something is definitely happening. In my opinion, you should tell him about your…unexpecting leaving, you know.”
Before you could respond, Timothy Bryce looked at you one last time and left the meeting room. Now, you were left alone but not really alone as the weight of the newfound information lay on your shoulders like two massive dumbbells. ‘If everything is too obvious for Bryce, what other things might the others think about me and Bateman?’ That was a rhetorical question mostly, but still you couldn’t even get up from the chair, sensing the strange, chilling fear inside your chest—what if you were mistaken with accepting the offer of a new job?
Gritting your teeth, you snarled and almost kicked the table from beneath, your palms were clenching and unclenching, thankfully no one could see you like this. Swiftly but nervously, you finally stood up and headed out from the meeting room, striving to avoid any of your soon-to-be-ex colleagues on your way to Bateman’s office. 
How many times have you rehearsed the words you were going to say while you were walking up there? Countless. But still, when you entered Patrick's office and saw his lovely secretary, everything inside you froze - words, emotions, even your breath.
“Hi, Jean,” you mumbled, with a half-smile on your slightly tensed face. “Looking good.”
“Uh, thank you,” the blonde woman replied and fixed the stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
As soon as you heard the echo of Patrick's voice through the office door, a lump formed in your throat and you had to cough several times because of the unpleasant dryness.
“Well,” you paused and glanced at the closed door with a nameplate ‘Patrick Bateman’ on it. “You would help me a lot if you let me have a private conversation with your boss.”
“Patrick is,” her voice suddenly wavered, implying that something was wrong. “He’s busy right now.”
“Oh,” you stepped back involuntarily. “Okay, I can come later.”
“No,” Jean replied curtly. “I’m sorry, but today is not an option at all.”
‘Is that some kind of joke?’ You hummed to yourself, already regretting coming here in the first place. “All right then. Have a nice day, Jean.” Turning around you already stepped out from the office when you head her voice:
“(Y/n), wait. Oh, I hope I pronounced your name correctly.” She blushed once you came back inside. “I think I can tell him about your visit, when he will be less busy.”
That offer was not something you would expect. “Actually, that would be nice,” you clicked on your tongue, considering your next steps. “Tell him that I have a reservation at Dorsia at eight o’clock–”
“Today?” Her question cut off your bluffing. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”
You just grinned politely in return. “Yep, today. Tell him…that I need to talk with him about business and stuff. And, that it would be probably the last chance for him to catch up with me.” Jean’s eyes widened for a moment, but you reassured her instantly. “No drama, just changing my job.”
“Uh, that was probably a tough decision?”
“Not really,” you winked at her and crossed your arms over the chest. “But don’t tell him about that, okay?”
“Yeah, sure.” She tried to hide her confusion behind a warm smile but failed. “I’ll tell him that you will be waiting for him at Dorsia tonight and that this conversation is very important.”
“Uh-huh,” you hummed and for a moment just stood there, looking at the closed office door. “Thank you, darling. For everything.”
You made a special accent on the word ‘darling’, purposely embarrassing her and leaving no room for any questions and other stuff that would make a current situation even more fucked up. 
After you left Bateman’s office you had to find Allen as only half of what you told Jean was actually bluffing—you knew that Paul had a reservation at Dorsia tonight, considering he was inviting you for dinner. Allen’s strange interest in you wasn’t your top priority at that moment but using it for your sake was something you couldn’t deny at such a situation. So when you finally found Paul in one of the meeting rooms, you persuaded him to give you that reservation, explaining that you wanted to show one of your colleagues Dorsia before you would leave New York and move to Chicago. And even though everyone would find out that that colleague was Patrick Bateman, you wouldn't’ care since you would be far away from here.
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A few hours later, the melodious voice of Whitney Houston reverberated off the walls of the opulent living room in Bateman's apartment, the lyrics of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody," which Patrick knew perfectly, striking a chord in his chest every time the song came on.
But today everything was different.
Everything, except some random blonde bimbo who was on her knees between Bateman’s spread legs, sucking his thick cock but not actually giving him any pleasure. Frustrated, the man tugged on her hair without any compassion, bringing her closer, so her nose was almost brushing against his hairy pubis. But almost immediately, the woman began to whimper and claw at the perfect skin of his hips, and he didn't like it.
“What? Already tired?” Bateman sneered and fixated the blonde’s head in one place for a moment by her neck. “Or is that your first time? Then, I’m so fucking honored!"
As soon as the man let the blonde go, she pushed him away and sat back on her ass, breathing heavily. “Are you crazy?” the bimbo inquired and pressed a hand to her half-exposed breasts, her whole appearance looked messy. “I was about…t-to choke on your fucking dick!”
Sighing, Bateman rolled his eyes and just stretched out on the couch, lazily stroking his half-hard shaft. "So, this is your first time?" The woman hesitated to answer, which only made Patrick mock her even more. "Did you tell me that you have a boyfriend? And he works at P&P, right?"
Wiping her mouth with undisguised contempt, the blonde started to get up, but Patrick stepped on the hem of her dress and she almost fell. "Marcus! Stop it!"
"Uh, look at you," the man chuckled, watching her feeble attempts to get up. "Such a pathetic little bitch, pathetic and greedy," the man added, giggling. "Ready to give head to every vice president at Pierce & Pierce! Your boyfriend should be so proud of you."
The woman was on the verge of tears when Bateman finally allowed her to get up and collect her things. She had been in such a hurry that she had left her panties on the glass coffee table. All this gave Patrick much more pleasure than the blonde's inexperienced blowjob.
"Ask your boyfriend to teach you how to suck dicks," he blurted out as the woman rushed into the hallway, rifling through her purse looking for something. "Since he's probably a pro at that sort of thing."
But the girl was already gone. So the man could only laugh to himself, so proud of his cheeky jabs, if only he didn't feel like a schoolboy dreading his upcoming meeting with his teacher. With a heavy sigh, Bateman closed his eyes for a second, his cock was already soft, but his sac were still tense and full of his cum; he felt too unsatisfied with himself, which only made things worse.
What was it even for?
The man could just take some coke, lie down on his bed, close his eyes and think of you—that was enough for him to cum so hard that he had to go to the laundry almost every day because he ran out of sheets. But today was different, considering that Patrick was going to meet you, and not just anywhere, but in fucking Dorsia. It seemed that everyone in this town could get a res there, but not him.
Biting his lower lip, the man looked down at the throbbing cock in his hand - the mere thought of you was making him horny as hell. "Shit…" If only he could reboot his memory and get rid of that scene in the Tunnel. If only. Meanwhile, the Whitney Houston tape continued to play the song "Where Do Broken Hearts Go". Bateman doubted he would be able to masturbate, he was too nervous and stressed out, even imagining you while that bitch was giving him head didn't work. Although it usually did. "Dorsia, huh," the man giggled nervously and checked his Rolex - he still had plenty of time. As if spellbound, Patrick slid to the floor and kicked off his leather shoes, his red tie already loosened and his pants hiked down. Leaning against the couch, Bateman threw his head back and began to jack off, recalling the forbidden, sinful sensations of your hand sliding along his hot flesh. "Mmm-fuck," he moaned and shivered, his free hand already gripping the edge of the white couch, several beads of sweat running down his tense temples. What if today he finally found the courage to confess? Confess that all these days had been a fucking torture for him, that he was ready to crawl on the walls from how much he longed for you, not even physically, but mentally. Maybe, just maybe, your reassurance that everything was not over for him, that maybe he still had a chance to have some normalcy in this cruel world—could change everything?
"Fuck, f-fuck!" Patrick cursed, sensing that his impending orgasm was slipping away from him just by reflecting on the things that were happening between the two of you. Jerking off and thinking about your sexy voice, your hot body and your cheeky smile was one thing, it always turned him on better than anything else, but thinking about the complexity of your relationship… that was not a turn-on for him. Not at all. Cursing to himself, Patrick slicked back his auburn hair and quickly got up to stagger to the bathroom, where he nervously opened the cabinet behind the mirror and found a small white jar of pills. Xanax was his only stress reliever so far. Taking a deep, almost desperate breath, Bateman looked at his reflection, his bloodshot eyes full of tears that threatened to cascade down like a waterfall. "This is not an exit." Patrick told his reflection, but opened the jar anyway and took a handful of pills. Frustrated, unsatisfied, he didn't know how he was going to survive dinner with you, and Dorsia was the last thing on his mind. "Because I'm scared. I'm so fucking scared."
Luckily, the marble walls of his bathroom were the only witnesses to his downfall.
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Dawn came to New York faster than you could imagine. All the way to Dorsia you were nervous, but still confident in the plan you had made earlier that day. Even though you had failed in your previous attempt to dot the T's at the Tunnel, today would be different, you were sure of it. ‘I don't even know why, though,’ you chuckled to yourself, and the taxi driver gave you a concerned glance, but you just shrugged it off, signaling him to concentrate on the road.
In the restaurant everything looked the same as when you were here with Paul Allen, but this time you were not the one who was invited, but the one who invited another person—named Patrick Bateman—and speaking of whom, was late and that made you quite anxious. ‘What if he just doesn’t come?’ This thought made you fidget in the chair, your hands fumbling with the napkin on your knees and after telling the waiter for the second time that you were expecting someone else to come, your fingers became cold as if they were frozen. 
“Maybe I can bring you some drinks?” The waiter didn’t give up, spurring you to order at least something to drink.
Quickly running a hand across your strained face, you exhaled loudly and nodded. “Yeah, drinks,” you stummered when you looked past the waiter, noticing the familiar elegant silhouette coming close to your table. “Can you…bring…some water?”
Confused, the waiter glanced down at the full glass of water next to you. “Uh, more water?”
“(Y/n),” Bateman’s voice echoed across the space. “I hope I didn't make you wait for so long,” he chuckled and took a seat at the table. “Had some important business affairs.” The moment he noticed the confused waiter, Patrick gave him his most sassy smile and checked his Rolex for no reason, probably just to show them out. “Can you please bring me a glass of J&B and some fresh salad to your taste.”
‘A salad, really?’ You almost snickered, but instead your face turned into a neutral expression. "Business, huh?"
Bateman rested more comfortably in his chair after the waiter finally left. "You know, some affairs with blonde hair and long legs, big tits and an amazing ass."
That came out of nowhere. 
Still calm, you watched the man across from you smile, surely proud of himself and so damn bossy it was almost absurd. "You mean someone in particular, don't you?"
“Oh, yeah,” Patrick put his both elbows on the table, clasping his hands, revealing his gold Rolex once again. “Her name is Stephany, if I’m not mistaken, she’s a girlfriend of one of our accountants,” the man paused before snickering. “That one who makes monthly reports, you know him. So, I’m a bit late because I couldn't leave such a lovely girl without a treat she deserved.”
Right now, you didn't care if it was true or not—his well-framed—confidence was something you found very interesting and even amusing, as it was proof that he was preparing for this dinner just like you were.
"And that's when I thought vice presidents actually worked at Pierce & Pierce." With a slight grin, you joked and finally took a sip of water, feeling your throat suddenly go dry, just like when you were talking to Jean earlier.
Bateman's sudden laugh rang out like shattered glass. "'C'mon, (y/n), don't pretend you don't know that-"
"I know that your father owns almost half of the company," you interrupted him abruptly, and he wasn't happy about it. "And that gives you certain privileges."
"Don't be envious. It doesn't suit you."
"Envious?" You set the glass of water aside. "I think it was me who invited you here so that you could finally visit Dorsia… at least once."
The air between the two of you was thick with venom and something even more poisonous. Nevertheless, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't think Bateman was acting like the jerk he undoubtedly was. But, to be honest, you expected him to act a little less smug.
"I still think this place is overrated," Patrick hissed through clenched teeth right as the waiter brought him his whiskey and salad with sliced vegetables and some cheese, which he didn't even touch, taking a big gulp of his drink. "So, uh, Jean told me you wanted to talk to me about something important. What is it?"
The waiter didn't even try to offer to check the menu again and retreated, but he would definitely come back later with the same request, since you hadn't ordered anything yet.
"Well, it doesn't seem to matter anymore," you suddenly declared, crumpling the paper napkin before dropping it on the finest tablecloth. "The thing is—I'm quitting P&P and moving to Chicago. That's it. Nothing special, really."
The moment of silence washed over them both like a tidal wave. Visibly shocked, Bateman just sat there, then nervously straightened his tie and looked around as if to call for help. 'Not so ballsy anymore, Patty?' There was something about the way he was humiliated, something that stirred a burning flame in your gut that came dangerously close to burning you alive from the inside. And again, you would be lying to yourself if you pretended you could control it.
"Chicago?" Patrick repeated as if he hadn't heard correctly.
"Why do both you and Bryce react as if Chicago were a desert island?"
"Heh," Bateman rubbed the bridge of his nose and leaned back in his chair. "So Bryce knows everything. Why am I not surprised?"
"I'd tell you more," that was the moment you'd been waiting for so long—the moment of his vulnerability, and you couldn't stop yourself like a shark who sensed blood in the water. "Paul Allen was the one who actually recommended this job to me."
Patrick's jaw clenched at the mention of Paul Allen. "Really?"
"Yes," you continued to corner him. "One day we were having dinner, here, in Dorsia," you grinned, catching every little change in Bateman's no longer confident face. "He said one of his buddies was starting a new company, and they were looking for specialists… like me."
"Well," he began, sliding his hand across the table's surface as if to calm down. "Good for you, (y/n). Congratulations!" That was the most fake 'congratulations' you ever heard, even though you were expecting a slightly different reaction. "But I don't understand. Why didn't you talk to me before? Before you made your decision."
This question almost made you choke. 'Did he really say that?' And just as you were about to answer, the waiter came across the table again, choosing the perfect moment. Before he could offer to check the menu, you raised your hand in an irritating gesture. "Bring me a vodka and orange juice," Patrick's eyebrows arched almost immediately. "Double vodka, please."
"Yes, s-sure." The waiter stuttered before taking the crumpled napkin and walking away, very stressed.
Without giving yourself time to think, you leaned against the table and muttered. "Why should I? We are not friends."
"Of course not," Bateman scowled, crossing his arms over his broad chest, the black pinstriped suit outlining his physique perfectly. "Not after you gave me a decent handjob in the Tunnel bathrooms."
Patrick caught you off guard by injecting this argument so blatantly into the conversation. "Decent? It was fucking amazing." You growled and quickly turned around to see if anyone was paying attention to your table, and when you were sure there was nothing to worry about, you faced Patrick again. "Too amazing, considering you seem to be thinking about it all the time."
"W-what? I… I didn't…"
Sneering, you tapped your fingers on the table in nervous anticipation of your drinks, even though you hadn't planned on drinking any alcohol, wanting to keep yourself as sober as possible for the dinner and everything that might or might not happen afterwards.
"Relax, Bateman," you rested your chin on your clasped hands, finally allowing yourself to examine his handsome appearance, including the way his cheeks were tinged with a red hue. "You've said too much already."
And from that moment on, you began to feel relaxed, even pleased with all the things Patrick revealed to you, accidentally or not, you would use every little detail to your own advantage when the time came.
A little later, when the waiter finally brought your cocktail, you finished it too quickly, so you asked for it to be repeated under the attentive hazel eyes of the man sitting on the other side of the table. The more drunk you got, the more topics you discussed, but when you mentioned Paul Allen again, you noticed that Patrick's good mood was fading.
"Wait a minute!" You held out a hand to stop him from jumping from one topic to another. "Can you tell me why the mere mention of Paul Allen triggers you so much? Is there something between you two?"
Bateman couldn't hold back a loud, hearty laugh. "That joke's too tasteless even for Bryce," he finished his whiskey, the salad still untouched on the table in front of him. "Allen…he's…not the person he tries to pretend to be."
"Oh?"
"I think he's part of that Yale thing."
You narrowed your eyes and leaned in closer. "Yale thing? What do you mean?"
Patrick quickly licked his lips, not expecting you to delve further into the subject. "Well, I think he's probably a closeted homosexual who likes to do a lot of coke and have orgies with male hookers."
At first you just giggled out loud, not caring that some people were looking at you, but then your face suddenly became serious. "How do you know about that? Did he tell you or…" you smiled playfully. "Did he do something… that made you think so," you bit your lower lip and drank the last drop of your cocktail with unabashed thirst. "That sounds strange…very strange."
"You're drunk, (y/n)," Bateman murmured, tilting his hand as if thinking about something. "Too drunk, which gives me the impression that you're as much of an amateur at drinking as you are at doing coke."
"Uh, s-shut up."
"See? Can't even speak words."
"Maybe...maybe I am drunk, now what? Are you gonna be a fucking gentleman like you always try to be and offer me a ride? Or maybe," you fixed your hair nonchalantly, your vision slightly blurred. "Would you be brave enough to show me your apartment?"
As soon as those words came out of your mouth, you knew there was no turning back, and your inner voice, which usually kept you from doing shit you would regret, seemed to fall asleep from the high level of alcohol in your system.
The man across from you straightened up at your bold suggestion, reading the subtext with ease. "Is that what you want? For me to take you to my place?"
His question hung in the air for a moment before you managed to come up with an answer, but you didn't know how to get out of this situation and turn it into a joke, as you usually did. Maybe you just didn't want to get out of it? Just like you didn't want to let him go when he helped you get up from the table after he'd paid for dinner and the two of you were in a cab. Not to mention when you almost fell down and the man caught you in his arms, but there was still a barrier between the two of you—an invisible wall—the only line that kept you apart. The line that was too dangerous to cross, but too tempting not to think about what lay behind it.
By the time the cab pulled up at the American Gardens Building, you were half asleep on Bateman's shoulder, his Lancome cologne not helping at all, making your mind even more cloudy. But you did your best to get out of the car without his help, letting the cool fresh air bring you some relief and clarity. 
In the elevator, Patrick began to mumble about his musical preferences, but you didn't really pay attention because your brain was overworked trying to come up with a plan B in case things went too far. 'As if they hadn't gone too far already,' your inner voice suddenly tried to break through the thick layers of alcohol, affection and uncontrollable desire.
Bateman's apartment looked exactly as you had imagined—opulent, stylish, and very minimalist. Everything seemed to be in its place, including you, standing next to the tall window in his living room.
"Not a bad view," you admitted, taking off the jacket of your suit. "Not Central Park, but not bad at all."
"Central Park?" Patrick asked, hiding in the kitchen, which was perfectly connected to the living room, but you couldn't see him behind the wall as he examined the large number of different kitchen knives.
"Yeah, you know, Paul Allen's apartment faces Central Park, looks really fancy," you didn't mean to hurt Bateman's feelings, but the moment you turned around and saw him, it was obvious that your words had reached him. "But, I really prefer your place...it's more modern for my taste."
Puzzled, Patrick didn't hurry to join you in the living room, his thin fingers never ceasing to slide up and down the sharp blade in his hand, but at the very last moment, the man put the knife back in its place. With deliberate steps, he walked out of the kitchen and approached his stereo system.
"Really?" He asked in disbelief, as if his life depended on your answer.
Such a reaction from him was oddly appealing, the vulnerability, the desperation in his brown eyes. This was a level of satisfaction that no drug could ever match. Meanwhile, Bateman turned on the music, the charming voice of Phil Collins filling the room as "Invisible Touch" began to play.
The man was examining the tape in his hands when you slowly approached and gently cupped his face, inducing him to look at you. "Yes, I do," you confirmed your previous words, and when Patrick didn't flinch from your touch, you decided to go on, tracing your finger along his sensual lips, fighting the urge to kiss them here and now. "Speaking of preferences," you removed your hand only to place it on the lapel of his suit. "Would you be a good boy and give me a full tour of your apartment, including the bedroom?"
In any other situation, you would probably die from shame at saying something like that, but not now. Not with him, because no sooner had your question escaped your lips than you noticed that his hands were shaking, and the CD was about to fall out of them, so you had to gently grab it and pull it out of his hands. Bateman reminded you of a man struggling with addiction, every twitch of his plump lips, every furrow of his perfect eyebrows spoke volumes about the undeniable affection between the two of you, an affection you were both too exhausted to fight and hide.
Without further ado, you placed the CD on top of the stereo and pressed Patrick against the nearest wall, holding the lapels of his Valentino suit and sealing his hot mouth with yours, opening it wider with your tongue, so eager to taste him again after such a long wait.
"Mmhm," he purred into the kiss, his hands desperately wrapped around your waist, then going lower to cradle your hips, groping and squeezing a little too hard so that you had to bite his lip to make him stop, but the man just growled and pushed you closer, your groins rubbing against each other in the most lewd way possible. "Bedroom...go to the bedroom...and wait for me there."
Bateman's words right after the kiss sounded like nonsense, which you found oddly arousing. With a foxy smile, you licked his cheek, then his neck, almost biting the artery and sucking on the reading mark. "No, no, no, Bateman," you shook your head, grabbing his neck slightly to kiss him again, but he did it first. Even now Patrick was trying to take the lead, your tongues fighting for control like two snakes entwining around each other. "I'm in no mood for games or waiting."
The moment you said it, Bateman lifted you with practiced ease as if you weighed nothing, and you didn't even have a chance to protest as he began to move toward the closed room behind his white couch. In his arms, you finally felt complete, even if you let him take the lead for a while. Noticing the pair of panties on the glass coffee table, you wrapped your legs around him and buried your fingers in his silky hair, ruffling them and letting them fall on his forehead, making him look even hotter.
Jesus, you were on the verge of an explosion just from the foreplay alone.
Bateman's bedroom greeted you with stark white walls, the brightness of which was almost painful to look at as he turned on the light holding you with one arm, and the king-size bed on which he carefully placed you, but you didn't let him pull away, tugging at his tie and forcing him to lay on top of you.
"Fuck, look at you," Patrick grazed your earlobe before massaging your chest through your shirt and hovering over you. "So insatiable, aren't you? Running in circles like a trapped kitten."
Growling, you pulled him closer again to suck on his lower lip, letting your body rub against his so you could feel how hard he was, so painfully hard, considering the sound he made when you snaked your hand between his legs to cradle his bulge. "Are you gonna cum in your pants if I don't stop?"
With a determined persistence, you continued to massage his hard cock through the layers of his expensive clothes as you removed his jacket and then his suspenders, one by one. Bateman didn't interfere as he was also busy getting rid of your clothes without actually tearing them apart.
"Let me," you insisted as soon as you noticed him struggling to unbutton your shirt. "This is my favorite shirt, you know," you gasped, your own fingers trembling, making it difficult even for you to finally remove your shirt. "I don't want it to get torn."
When you finally got rid of the top part of your clothes, the sight of your exposed skin made Patrick grunt in hunger, and the next second the man was already sucking on your nipple, his muscular frame shaking on top of you from your teasing ministrations on his twitching dick and hard balls. Damn, you wanted to suck him dry as much as you wanted to ruin him until he forgot his own name.
"Don't like it anyway," Bateman muttered suddenly, holding your hands above your head. "You need to go to some... fashion shows... maybe you will have more free time in Chicago, considering Paul Allen offered you this job. I'm sure it would be some boring shit."
‘Good Lord, he mentioned him again…’ You rolled your eyes and turned away from his face, eliciting a low rumble from Patrick's massive chest. "What the fuck is wrong with Paul... are you... jealous of him or something?"
"Me?" he asked, confused and you took the opportunity to release your hands and roll over so that you were now on top of him. "I'm not the one bragging about having dinner with him in fucking Dorsia!"
Bateman sounded like a little boy who was upset that no one wanted to play with him, which made you giggle, but then you straddled him and opened his white shirt and removed his tie.
"The more you talk," you murmured as you ran your hands along the smooth skin of his torso, paying special attention to his toned pecs and abs. "The more you make me think you two had a history," you leaned down to teasingly lick his lips, your sneaky hands already working on the zipper of his pants. "But still, I don't care." In one swift motion, you pulled down his pants along with his boxers, watching his thick cock pop out, yearning for your attention. "Mhmm, the last time we were alone you worked me up really good, I wanna return the favor," your hands wrapped around the base of his beefy shaft, the small droplets of his pre-cum already covering its tip, forcing you to lick your lips in hunger. "If you have nothing else on your mind?"
Did you really care about his feelings since you asked him that question? 
The man beneath you was definitely growing impatient, his hands gripping your hips as if he was about to imprint his fingerprints on your skin if you were not wearing your pants. 
"Lie on your side," Bateman suggested suddenly. "Take off all your clothes and lie down here," he tapped the spot next to him and you stood up quickly, as if he had cast a spell on you. Never in your life did you get rid of your clothes faster than now. "Uh, what a cute ass you have, (y/n)."
You frowned at his words, giving him your dead stare as you slipped out of your underwear, giving him the full view—the glint in his hazel eyes was too much to ignore—so you turned around and presented yourself to him; Bateman couldn't help but lazily stroked himself, putting a hand under his head. 
"Tell me, Bateman," you began, your hands slowly sliding down your bare skin. "Have you been thinking about me all this time?" You cupped your ass, bending over a little so he could see the spot right between your legs. "Or have you found a way to forget things you don't want to remember?"
He swallowed hard and closed his eyes for a second. "I wish there was a way to forget." Patrick murmured and watched as you lay on your side in the 69 position, then he did the same, his hot breath scorching the soft flesh between your thighs. 
You wrapped your hands around his hips and eagerly took his drooling dick in your mouth, while he was lapping at your crotch. "Mm-fuck," you jerked against his face, your fingers digging deeper into his skin as Bateman feasted on you like the most delicious meal. "Me too, Bateman, m-me too."
Having said that, you swirled your tongue around the swollen tip of his veiny cock, causing a muffled moan to erupt from his mouth, its vibration sending shivers down the base of your spine, only spurring you on to go further, pushing his dick deeper into your mouth. Soon the room was filled with the soft, wet sounds of your shared oral pleasure, punctuated by soft but powerful moans and groans as you both teetered on the edge of ecstasy. Gripping your ass, Bateman responded to your actions with the same passion, devouring every drop of your flavor and giving you no chance to escape, his strong arms like ropes around your body. After giving his cock the attention it deserved, you decided to tease his heavy balls with light lapping on them, before slipping a finger inside his tight ass, you expected him to protest but instead you heard him moan and the next moment his hips began to move towards your penetrating movements.
"Good boy," you praised him, rolling your eyes at the way the man was sucking on your most sensitive spot. "Taking my finger so well..."
The coil in your lower abdomen was about to snap at any moment, but you still wanted more, you wanted to feel that cock inside you, even if it was going to rip you a apart. Breathlessly, you didn't even remember asking him about condoms, and how you managed to get out of bed and go to the closet, where you found a little box Bateman was talking about—its contents almost made you gasp in awe, so you decided to take it with you.
"Well, well," you crooned as you stepped back into the bedroom. "Should I ask you what this is or are you going to tell me?"
With a wide grin, you held out a large purple dildo, Patrick's eyes twitched and he gulped, leaning on his elbows. "I... I use it with hookers," the man confessed, licking his glistening lips covered with your juices. "Why?"
"Hmmm, you like watching women play with it?" You asked as you reached the bed. "How about actually using it and not just watching?"
Damn, you could swear you saw his breath catch in his throat, his muscles tense and his dick throbbing just at the mention of using that sex toy on him. 'So he likes that idea, what a naughty boy,' you chuckled to yourself and took your place on the bed next to him. "This is going to feel so good, baby," you brought the dildo to his lips, suggesting that he lick it for lubrication, and when he did, you could barely keep yourself from cumming, just from the sight of his tongue flicking around the tip of the silicone sex toy. "Get on your knees and let me take care of you."
"Fuck," Bateman cursed, but it was too late to turn back. Embarrassed but extremely aroused, the man got down on all fours and gave you full access to his firm ass, which you immediately fondled, spreading his buttocks and biting them one by one. "Mmh-hmm, (y/n)."
"Relax," you stroked his hips, kissing the lower part of his back just above the dimples that were too sexy to ignore. "God, you have such a beautiful body," you decided to praise him, knowing the effect it would have on him. "I would worship it forever if I could," which was only half true, or maybe...it was not. Leisurely, you showered his soft skin with little peaks here and there, dotting it with your marks of love, not even realizing that you were giving all of yourself to the process.
As you pressed the tip of the dildo against his puckered muscle ring, Patrick tensed at your touch, gripping the sheets and closing his eyes, so overwhelmed and confused at the same time, but your reassuring hand on his trembling one encouraged him to look back at you as you hovered over him to kiss his lips, his neck, his shoulder.
"(Y/n)," Bateman suddenly huffed through his clenched teeth. "I want you to..." he gasped as you flickered your wet finger around his tight asshole. "...fuck."
"You want me to feast on that delicious ass of yours?" You finished the sentence for him, grinning in pure gratification at his complete submission. "Is that what you want?"
"Yeah, y-yes," he grasped the sheets and positioned himself more comfortably on all fours— a clear sign that he was not used to this position and you couldn't miss it. "I want to feel your tongue... all over me."
"Shit, Bateman, you're a real sweet talker." With that you put the dildo on the bed next to you and before you knew it you were spreading his ass cheeks wide open to make a flat lick along his tight hole. "I wanna hear you," you gently but insistently probed his ass with your warm tongue, giving him several slaps on the buttocks that drove the man wild as you felt his velvet walls tighten around your tongue. "Good boy, c'mon, spread it out for me."
Blushing, Patrick used both hands to spread himself for your eager ministrations as you fucked him with your tongue while your hands traveled all around his hips before you wrapped one of them around his pulsating cock, fuck, he was so close, you could tell by the way his balls tensed when you gave them a slight squeeze.
"Don't cum until I let you," you commented and the next moment you were already pushing the sleek sex toy into his ass and this time he accepted it gradually, taking it in with ease—the sight made you gasp but you focused on giving him pleasure. "Tell me, Bateman, how does it feel?"
The question remained unanswered for a brief moment as you began to slid the dildo in and out, stimulating his prostate and causing him to shake and whimper in pure bliss, but when you decided to add fuel to the fire by jerking him off and sucking on his strained sac, Patrick could barely contain himself, his legs about to give way at any moment.
"F-fuck, a-aahhh, mmhhmm," he murmured into the pillow, his hands finding their way to your messy hair, gripping them almost to the point of pain. "I...c-can't...hold...it any longer," Bateman's wailing bounced off the walls of his luxurious bedroom, which had never seen anything like it before. "I..."
Though you wanted him to last longer, you were too overwhelmed yourself, feeling the string in your belly ready to burst. "Let it go," your words were like a balm to his ears as, just a moment later, his cock pulsed in your grasp, spraying loads of his thick cum across the Chinese sheets that Patrick had always been so fond of. "That's it…" You didn't stop fucking him with a dildo, nor did you stop pumping his throbbing dick, milking it until the last drop of his seed. "Good boy, you're such a good boy." 
Panting, you pulled out the sex toy, covered in his slick, and brought it to his trembling lips, inducing him to suck it before taking it into your mouth, feeling the mixture of tastes on the tip of your tongue. Then, Bateman rolled onto his back, desperately gasping for air, his cock still hard. That was fucking phenomenal, but you didn't comment, thinking about your own orgasm at last. Locking your eyes with Patrick's hazel ones, you touched yourself the moment he beckoned you over, and without words, you mounted his flushed, sweaty face, riding it as desperately as you could, using his tongue and lips without shame. Tilting your head back, you grabbed his head and almost clawed at his scalp, feeling your insides about to fucking explode from the tension. So when you peaked, your scream could be heard all over Bateman's apartment. The orgasms you had before were nothing compared to this. It took everything from you, it made you die and rise again.
The final chord of the parade of shameless lust was when you let him fuck you in a way you didn't even expect. Spooning you from behind after he put the condom on, the man lifted your leg and sheathed himself inside of you till the hilt, making you feel so full you had to wrinkle the fabric underneath, but that was just the beginning as Bateman pulled you closer, trapping you in his arms like a cocoon, his tongue sliding around your ear shell with undisguised affection,
"Mmhmm, fuck, you're...so perfect," the man whispered into your ear, setting up the pace and resting his hand between your legs for extra stimulation. "Holy fuck! I'm cumming again, omh-shit..."
"Fuck m-me, yeah, just...l-like that...a-ahhh," you coaxed him to fuck you harder as you suddenly found yourself on the verge of climaxing again. "Gimme everything, baby, a-awww...goshhhhhhhh," you were the first to fall over the principle of pleasure, twitching along his body as if you were hit by the electric shock, all your nerves were on fire. "Bateman, mmhm-fuck-fuck! Your dick feels s-so good.."
Your vivid orgasm became the last straw for his second release as you felt him bite at your neck, his buffed frame shaking in spasms of pure rapture, you even had to hold back a scream from how painfully Patrick's hands squeezed your hips, but it was pleasurable pain of being ruined, of being fucked into a wet mess. Barely breathing, you didn't even remember how you passed out from exhaustion and for the first time in the last few days you fell asleep completely satisfied and happy.
When the first rays of sunlight crept through the blinds into Bateman's bedroom, you were already awake, as was he, but since you were lying with your back to his face, you didn't notice until the man kissed your shoulder, snuggled up against your neck, and made you roll over to face him.
As you did so, you dared to look directly into the brown eyes still clouded by the aftermath of your shared pleasure. "Hey." He muttered in a husky voice.
"Hey," you murmured back, hugging the pillow. "Did you sleep well?"
“Surprisingly—yes," the man stretched his arms, flexing his muscles and checking himself in the mirror on the other side of the room, which you hadn't even noticed. "(Y/n), I want you to go to the office and tell everyone that you're not going anywhere."
Shocked, you blinked several times, not knowing what to say as you hadn't expected anything like this.
With a nervous chuckle that turned into a hearty laugh, you rolled onto your back before sitting up on the bed. "Oh God, you're such a little Delulu, it's even funny," you looked at him—his face was nothing but a blank space without any visible emotions. "Did you really think that random sex would change my mind about changing jobs?" You chuckled again, louder this time. "I mean, the sex was really good, but... it's not like I'm going to give everything for this, you know?" With that, you got up from the bed and wrapped a blanket around yourself. "Can I take a shower?”
Trapped in the thought that only he could know, Patrick rolled onto his back, his eyes fixed on an invisible spot on the ceiling above him. "Yes," he murmured, barely audible. "Do whatever you want."
Walking towards the bathroom, you suddenly stopped and turned half around. "You better forget it," you said, savoring every word and finally returning the favor. "Maybe ask Paul Allen for advice," you grinned as you watched Bateman close his eyes in a feeble attempt to distance himself from everything that had happened. "Maybe he knows something about memory reboot machines that can help."
Without waiting for his answer, you continued on your way to the bathroom. Even though you were pleased with yourself, your revenge didn't taste sweet, but bitter, and its bitterness would remain on the tip of your tongue even after you washed yourself clean under the hot streams of water.
But the game was worth the candle, as they said.
Was it?
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P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!
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itsgrimeytime · 1 day
Text
feelin' flirty || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn!reader
rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz
AVAILABLE ON AO3
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Summary: Being a long-lost friend of Maggie's, you wind up at the prison, a line of dead walkers behind you. You are promptly confronted with one Rick Grimes, and it's suddenly your life's goal to flirt with him as much as you can. Rick doesn't usually respond, but what if one day he does?
TWs: innuendos, talk of sex, shameless (and I mean shameless) flirting, mention of both Beth and Hershel's deaths, gunshot wound, blood, guns, knives, and all things TWD.
[[A/N: Tumblr has deleted this THREE times. I am furious, hello??? Also, someone should've been hardcore flirting with Rick, I'll say it. That's what this is based on. Do I have social anxiety? Yes, but am I still writing this? I am. Don't ask questions. ALSO, I do not know the TWD timeline at all, so I am making it up, thank you. Enjoy :))) ]]
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With one last stab, you finished off the last... zombie? You didn't really call them anything, since you were alone. Maybe you should think about that a little more.
Wordlessly, you turned and stabbed another square in the head. Undead? No. Zombie? No, too cliché-
Another one.
It went on like that for a few more minutes, before you took a breath -with no answer to your question. Frowning at your knife being covered in... guts, for lack of a better word, you crouched down and wiped it on the grass.
What was that, 15? You didn't really count, but you should have. You were trying to get a new personal best actually-
"Hey!"
You froze, pocketing your knife, before spinning on your heel. The voice was fairly distant, so you weren't worried. Instead, close enough for it to matter, was a big building with high walls and barbed wire at the top of them. A prison. Huh.
"Up here!" The voice called again, and you startled.
Shading your eyes from the sun, you looked up into the watchtower, and sure enough, there was a silhouette. A guy, you think, with dark hair. That was about all you could say.
"Yeah?" You called back, curiously.
"That was cool as shit!"
You laughed out, probably for the first time in months, "Thank you, mysterious stranger!"
"Glenn!" He clarified.
Huh, you pursed your lips, before responding, "Y/N!"
"Nice to meet you!"
You laughed again, before feeling a pain in your stomach. When was the last time you'd eaten? You paused, trying to think. Three days ago (there was a box of Twinkies that hadn't expired yet in a stranded supermarket). Not great.
"Hey, Glenn?" You yelled, a little hopeful.
"Yeah?"
You pursed your lips, before deciding -taking a chance, really, "You got any food in there?"
Now, you were walking through the gate, which was a little dramatic. But, you kinda liked it. It felt like you were kind of a big deal, well, until there was a swarm of eyes on you. All different kinds.
You froze, licking across your teeth.
And then, a man ran up to your side -gasping a little. Was that Glenn? How did he-
He offered his hand to shake, and you accepted it -looking at the crowd, a little defensively.
"Are they going to kill me? Or...?"
"Shit," he turned to them, "-They just want some food, guys, c'mon!"
None of them even flinched.
"I don't bite," you joked, before frowning, "-shit. That was in bad taste-"
And then, a voice called out into the tense air.
"Y/N?"
You peeked over heads, looking, because-
Your eyes locked onto hers, and you nearly jumped in place -big smile blooming along your lips, "Holy shit, Mags?!"
You'd been friends, back in high school. You'd left junior year and tried to keep in touch. It just didn't work out. (You can't even remember now if it was her or you who stopped, at this point.)
Before she could so much as reply, you ran to her -arms wide open. She eagerly reciprocated, spinning a little with the force -you'd gotten pretty good at running at this point.
"What the fuck?" You breathed into her shoulder, and she laughed big and loud, "-What are the chances?"
With a thought, you pulled back -still holding her shoulders, "Are your Dad and Beth here?"
"Yeah," she cheered, and something in you felt relieved. Thank god, they were okay.
"And, you?" She offered, a little hesitantly -notable lack at your side.
You pressed your lips together, swallowing, and shook your head, "Been alone since the beginning."
Maggie frowned, hand coming up to rest on your arm and squeezing once.
"Only lived with my boyfriend," you explained, eager to lighten the mood, "-and he actually cheated on me, so. Wasn't the worst lost."
She laughed a little, before asking -carefully, "And your family?"
Something in your chest stung, you wordlessly shook your head. (Visions of unhinged jaws and blood filling it.)
She frowned, whispering her apologies before hugging you again. You leaned into it that time.
And then, you jumped back, excited, "You have to bring me to your family, Mags, it's been so long-"
"Ya 'ave to talk to Rick first," a voice grumbled out behind you.
You spun on your heel, facing a man. Tall, brunette, dark eyes, arms crossed in front of him (strong, you noted), but you could tell in his stance. He was a layer of stone walls, and you did not want to mine.
And then, your eyes smoothed across his back. Is that a fucking crossbow? Sick.
"Whose Rick?" You asked instead, Maggie still holding your arm.
"Whose askin'?"
That, was a good voice. Was your first thought as you turned back around, and your eyes landed on a figure.
Your voice got stuck in your throat.
He was tall, stood like he owned the place (and based on the recommendation, maybe he did), all broad shoulders and strong gaze. Speaking of gaze, he had probably the bluest eyes you'd ever seen. And his hair was brown and curly, a few hung forward on his face. His jaw was unspeakable, and his button-up shirt had a few extra buttons undone to account for the heat. Holy shit.
Maggie elbowed you, and you blinked.
"Uh, me," you answered, clearing your throat -motioning to Glenn, "-he said you had some food and I'm... hungry."
Maggie promptly stomped on your toe. You pressed your lips together trying not to laugh, carefully looking over his face to see if he'd picked up on it at all. Nothing. A shame, really.
Oh well, maybe next time.
"Look, Rick," she interrupted your thoughts, "-I know 'em, really well. Y/N is a good person."
Rick's eyes dipped to you, looking you over. Oh, the words were right there on the tip of your tongue. It would be so easy-
You're trying to survive, Y/N, your mind pressed, focus.
You bit at your lip, but before you could speak for yourself, Glenn did.
"I saw 'em take on a swarm outside," he added, eyes darting to Maggie (Huh.), "-without breaking a sweat."
There are other things I can do without breaking a sweat, your brain immediately remarked, this really was too easy.
Rick seemed to think about it a second, before turning to you, "Ya got a gun?"
I'd like to be loaded with-
"No," you cleared your throat, pulling out your knife (it was one of those multicolored ones, it's why you liked it clean), "-just this."
He hummed, tilting his head with a mouth shrug, "'At's impressive."
I bet your-
You pinched your arm, swallowing, "So, what? Am I in or not?"
Rick's eyes flicked up and down you again (so easy), before he decided, "Ya can stay."
That brings you to now, sitting with Maggie outside with a can of baked beans and a spoon in your hands.
You currently had quite the view of Rick working on the farm, sweat dripping down his brow, strained arms. You'd never thought about farming in that way, but now you were.
"Is his full name Richard?" You asked, curiously.
Maggie turned to you, watching the trail of your eyes to see what you were looking at. She rolled her eyes, "I don't know."
You put a spoonful into your mouth, humming around it, "There's a reason they call them 'Dick', you know."
"Oh my god," she shoved into you -making you laugh a little. You stared down into your can.
"I'm just saying," you stressed, "-he's hot enough for it."
Maggie paused a second, before deciding to say, "His wife died."
"Shit," your smile fell.
"Died in childbirth," she continued, something distant in her eyes -you wondered what exactly it was.
"How long ago?" You asked gently, looking at him in a new light -sympathizing.
"Few months," she answered, a little shortly. You pursed your lips, debating whether to say anything. Or if you even should.
Maggie clarified, herself, "I delivered the baby. Judith, her name is Judith."
"Fuck, Mags," you fully turned to her, putting the can by your feet, "-I'm so sorry."
She took a deep breath in and out, and you wrapped an arm around her shoulders pushing her into your side, "Thanks."
"No problem," you hummed, picking your can back up and letting your eyes drift to Rick again, adding, "-I'm great with babies, you know."
"You're ridiculous," she laughed, taking the bite you offered her.
"What?" You asked, "-Staring isn't bad. He's practically a piece of art, I'm just..."
He turned to the two of you then, blue eyes flickering along your faces -you did not move your gaze at all.
Instead, you gently waved, finishing, "-admiring him."
Rick furrowed his eyebrows for a second, waving back, and then, shaking his head smiling. Count that as a win.
You gnawed at your lip a second, "Do you think he picked up on my 'hungry' thing? I was looking at him and I-"
Maggie laughed, "He definitely did. Everyone did, Y/N, you're shameless."
"It's the apocalypse," you urged, "-who gives a fuck about shame anymore? Rick is hot, and as long as he lets me, I will flirt with him. The more you resist, the more I commit. You remember James in first period?"
She hummed, "I do."
"I chased him for half a year," you continued, swirling the spoon around the can, "-and it worked, didn't it? Guys hardly get properly flattered," your eyes dipped back to him, tone going low, "-I don't mind taking on that duty for the population."
Maggie laughed again, as you just kept your eyes on him. He had dirt on his hands now, wiping at his brow, and just a few curls hung forward on his forehead. God, how did you find him in the apocalypse?
"How valiant," she deadpanned, "-You're a real hero."
"Look, just because you have a type, Glenn, and you bagged him-"
"How did you-"
"Please," you teased, "-he practically ate you earlier with his eyes. Back to my point, I, at least, get to look."
She turned to you, "Ya don't want to date him?"
"Who said that, Mags?" You smirked, turning to her with a smile with eyes that spoke for themselves.
"You know he has kids, right?" She questioned, looking at you.
"So?" you waved the spoon around in your hand, "-Single dads? Hot. Kids? Cute. Where's the loss?"
Maggie looked at you a moment, before shaking her head, "You are clinically insane."
"Maybe," you offered, still watching him, "-but the world's fucked up too. So, at least, I'm not alone."
She laughed really hard at that one, and you felt eyes all over switch to you. Blue ones too. People didn't really seem to laugh around here, so you decided that was your mission too, get people to laugh more. Maybe they could go hand-in-hand.
Time to get to work.
Daryl was sitting across from you, you'd been bugging him for the past few weeks and he'd finally relented. It wasn't easy, but you were nothing if not persistent (hence the Rick situation). Or maybe stubborn. Both? Whatever.
"Daryl, listen," you pointed out, "-you have to take time to load up the bow."
"'At don't mean nothin'," he countered.
"It does," you stressed, explaining, "-in the amount of time it takes you to put in a new arrow, I would have killed at least two."
Daryl rolled his eyes, "It doesn't take 'at long."
"Who said it takes me long to kill two walkers?"
Rick walked by then, and Daryl stopped him.
"Rick, please, take 'em away from me," he spoke out, gruff, but something in you could tell that he wasn't being serious. The guy wasn't half the mystery you expected him to be.
Rick laughed a little at the plea, eyes on you, "What are ya doin' to him?"
"It's not that bad," you laughed, explaining, "-I was just talking about if we were pit against each other to kill the most walkers in a minute. And who would win."
"An' ya want me to help decide?"
"Daryl does," you clarified, "-I am fully confident in my abilities."
Rick laughed a little (another win), "Well, I kno' Daryl's skills, so tell me yours, so it's even."
You bit at your lip, debating. God, it would be so easy. All you had to do was-
"Well," you smiled, playfully, "-I'm told I'm very good with my hands."
He blinked, and it was silent a moment before you heard a snort beside you. You immediately flung to look at him, you had just made Daryl laugh-
"No way," you stressed out, throwing yourself to your feet -pointing at him, "-you just laughed at me."
Daryl pressed his lips together into a thin line, sniffing once, "No, I didn't."
You spun to Rick, and he was already looking at you, you didn't think about it too much.
"Rick," you begged, "-c'mon. I know you and him are like... buddies, but I-"
"Buddies?" He quirked a brow, smiling. Something stirred in your stomach.
"Look, I don't fucking know," you rolled your eyes, "-just agree with me."
He bit down a smile at you, before turning to Daryl, "Ya did laugh at 'em."
"Ha," you cheered, "-I made Daryl Dixon laugh. And, I would win against you."
"He didn't say 'at," Daryl instantly defended.
"Didn't have to, Dixon," you mocked, playfully, "-it's about time management."
"Time management?" Rick questioned curiously.
"Okay, think of this, Rick," you explained, leveling him with your full focus (god he was handsome), "-when you fight with a bow, or a gun for that matter, you have to reload."
He grinned a little at you.
"Follow me, follow me," you hummed, pulling out your knife, "-when you have a physical sort of attack method, like a knife, you don't have that same time issue."
"Ya kinda do though," he interjected.
You paused, looking at him -thoughtfully, "How so?"
"Body's gotta build up energy again," he reasoned (with too much thought for this dumb conversation, smart too? god has favorites), "-Stamina is key to attackin'."
You rolled your lip in between your teeth, he had to be doing this on purpose at this point. Seriously.
"Trust me, sheriff," you spoke -a teeny bit teasing but otherwise very genuine, "-there is no problem with my stamina."
Rick bit back a laugh, turning his head to the side and smiling. You thought you saw a little red on the tips of his ears. Cute. You were unraveling the layers of one Rick Grimes, that was progress.
Daryl didn't even try to hide it that time, letting a gruff chuckle leave his lips, "'M glad I'm not your focus for 'at."
You patted his shoulder, standing up, "It'll be devastating one day, Robin Hood. Don't come crying to me when it is."
"Did ya just call me Robin Hood?"
Rick laughed at that one, head tilting up to the sky. You smiled wide.
"Look at that," you hummed, proud, "-a two for one. Which-"
They both looked at you, but you stuck to your guns. And you smirked a little.
"-honestly, I would not mind," you added -thoughtfully, "-Think about it, and get back to me."
You walked backward a few steps, watching as Rick smiled at you before turning back to fix his gaze on Daryl. Smiling at the ground, you spun on your heel, and went off to find someone else to pester.
You felt a pair of eyes follow you though, and you maybe grinned a little brighter.
Now, you were wandering off on your own. On your own run, you liked to do that sometimes. Maggie nearly had a heart attack because of it, but what damage you did get was usually minor. Except for once, but that wasn't your fault. Well it was, you smashed a window with your fist to see if you could do it. And you could, which was impressive.
Now, you were strolling through an old novelty store -little knick-knacks. Finding some figurines, you grabbed a superhero one and stashed it away. Your eyes caught on a DVD player, the kind for both music and movies, and you picked it up -turning it over in your hands. Battery powered.
On a mission to find both DVDs and some batteries, you roamed through some aisles -particularly a mug one.
Peeking through at some of them, you paused. Taking your pack off and slipping the DVD player into it (along with the few good DVDs you found, no batteries though) on top of some canned food you'd found, you zipped it up. And with a breath, grabbed a mug.
Smiling big, you made your way out of the store.
When you got back to the prison, Maggie was waiting for you -tapping her feet, anxiously. She was a little like a mother, you weren't sure how you felt about it. But you loved her so, you dealt with it.
"Hey Mags," you cheered, mug handle twisted between your fingers.
She instantly relaxed, eyes scanning you over before dropping to the mug. She frowned.
"Please, tell me-"
"I got some food," you sighed, "-I'm not entirely useless."
She pursed her lips, "And the mug?"
You grinned, holding it up for her to see -tapping your fingers along both sides. Her eyes skimmed over it before she frowned (biting back a smile, you could tell).
"Seriously?" She asked.
"What?" You responded, groaning, "-I can't get gifts?"
She shoved into your side, and before you could take too many steps, you were met with your target -leaning against the fence, few steps from Maggie. Was he waiting for you too?
"Rick," you dropping your hands, particularly to avoid him from reading the text, "-what are you doing here?"
"Ya do 'at a lot?" He asked, a little pointedly. You thought you recognized something a little like worry in it, "-Go off on your own?"
Huh.
"Yeah," you laughed a little, "-you haven't noticed? I've been getting like... half the food we have."
Rick hummed (a little in appreciation) before his eyes dropped to your hands, "And what's 'at?"
"A gift," you extended it to him, unflinchingly.
He pulled himself from his spot on the wall, walking forward and accepting it. His fingers (great fingers, really. Was that weird to say?) wrapping around it, you noticed for a second that your fingers brushed -your breath halted a little in place.
"A mug?" He asked looking at you for a second, eyebrows furrowed.
You took your hand, and spun it around in his hands -brushing his skin against yours, "The other side."
He smiled a little, laughing.
Right there on a rather plain mug, were the words '#1 HOT DAD'.
He bit back a smile, eyes peeking up at you again, "Ya really ain't gonna let 'is go, are ya?"
"Nope," you popped the 'p', before clarifying, "-unless you want me to."
Rick licked a line against his teeth, grinning a little with something in his eye, "Who said 'at?"
"Noted," you smiled back, something fluttering in your chest, "-now, where's Carl? I got him something good."
"Ya got him somethin' too?"
He was looking at you a little curiously, like he was seeing new layers of you. You kind of wanted to squirm a little at his gaze. You were not used to people figuring you out.
You sighed, quickly turning your pack to the front and unzipping it. With a breath, you dug around and pulled out the figurine -Rick's eyes caught on it immediately. A small smile creeping along his mouth.
"He told me once he liked comics," you clarified, clearing your throat, "-figured he would like this. You... You think he will?"
"He'll love it," he answered, something new in his eyes, "-C'mon, I'll take ya to him."
On the way there, he seemed to pause a moment, something on his mind. You patiently waited for him to say it.
"'Saw somethin' else in 'ere," he mindlessly remarked, as the mug swung between his fingers "-What is it?"
"Oh," you pulled your pack foward again, excited, extending the figurine to him for safekeeping (he took it with a smile), "-a DVD player."
You held it in your hands, showing to him.
"Found some DVDs, good ones," you continued, before putting it back in your bag, and accepting the figurine back (your fingers brushed again), "-no batteries though."
Rick hummed, pursing his lips like he was thinking about something. He didn't say a word though.
You didn't have much time to think about it, because a few days after that, the prison fell. You'd escaped with Rick and Carl, but you weren't exactly yourself. Not after everything.
There was Judith, and Maggie, and... and Beth and Hershel. Every day felt like there was bile turning in your stomach; every time you closed your eyes, you saw someone... someone dead.
You were lying against the grass, looking up at the stars -it was still so pretty. Despite it all, the sky was still the same. Bright and twinkly. It was when everyone was on the road, wandering for a place to go. You just couldn't sleep, so you took it upon yourself to just look at the sky. You thought the clouds might be pretty, but the night was a little breathtaking.
"Ya awake?"
You didn't say a word.
"C'mon, Y/N, I know ya are."
"Yeah, I am," you sighed, saying shortly, "-Can't sleep."
There was an echo of footsteps, and then you felt body heat beside you. There was a beat.
"Ya ain't gonna say anythin'?" Rick hummed, turning his head to face you.
You matched his eyes (he's probably more handsome now, honestly), "About what?"
"Me, ya know," he motioned, to your side, "-layin' with ya."
You laughed at him a little, before teasing, "Awe, you miss it, don't you, sheriff?"
"Not a sheriff anymore," he hummed, something a little heavy in his voice.
"Eh," you shrugged, looking back to the stars, "-you still are in my mind."
Rick smiled at you, wordlessly.
Before you added, plainly, "Mostly because I love a man in uniform."
He laughed then, big and bright, and you felt something warm in your chest that you knew but hadn't felt in a while.
You wanted to be genuine, really genuine.
"You are a good man, Rick," you turned to look at him, and he looked straight back, "-We've all done shit we never should've, and maybe it's fucked us up a little bit, moved our path in the wrong direction once or twice, but-"
You looked back up to the sky, still feeling his eyes on you. It was kind of like a dream, like the apocalypse wasn't real for a second, just you and Rick. And maybe you wanted that a lot more than you knew.
"-you've got a big heart, Rick," you finished, soundly, "-And even if sometimes you lose sight of what you're doing, or maybe who you are, that... that doesn't change."
Rick didn't say anything for a moment, words echoing out into the night air. You couldn't find it in yourself to regret them, though. You never really regret what you said these days, there was no reason too.
You really only regret what you didn't say. Maybe to people who aren't around anymore. Your heart sunk a little in your chest, but it felt a little lighter -just a smidgen. (Maybe because of who you were with.)
"I got somethin' for ya," Rick suddenly spoke, sitting up (you followed suit).
You furrowed your eyebrows, "You got me something? When?"
Mindlessly, he replied, "On the last run."
You pursed your lips but waited patiently. He moved over to his pack, unzipping one of his pockets and pulling something out -you couldn't quite see. Trying to peek you moved over a little, but nothing.
With a breath, he stood back up and waltzed over to you (somehow he made walking hot, they needed to research that), extending it forward right into your face.
You blinked, gently taking it into your hands and looking at it closely. It was dark so you couldn't really-
Batteries. He handed you a pack of AA batteries.
"No way," you laughed out, "-you remembered that?"
"I remember a lot of what ya say," he offered casually, and you felt something shoot down your spine. And with a breath, he sat right beside you, so close your knees bumped a little.
Pulling your bag over to you, you dug around in it. You'd kept the DVD player and DVDs, not really with the hope of finding batteries. But, to feel a little human, remember life before.
You'd taken to putting stickers on it when you saw any, so the top of it was covered in an assortment. You ran your fingers over it a second, taking it in, before flipping it over. Popping open the little tab, you let out a breath of relief when it was AAs.
Rick laughed.
"I was going to be so pissed if it wasn't," you spoke, "-you have no idea."
He just looked at you then, in a way you'd seen before but never really thought about. You turned back to your bag, shuffling around to find your stash.
"You want music or a movie?"
"Movie's fine," he hummed, and you still felt his eyes trained solely on you. You tried to shake it off.
"Let's see," you pulled out a few of the movies you had, showing them to Rick, "-I've got... a kid's animated movie, or... a... cheesy romcom!"
Rick stared at you, instead of the movies, before flickering to them.
Rambling, you continued, "I also picked up some horror stuff, but I... I really think that was a bad move on my part."
He laughed again, just looking at you in a way you didn't really know how to label. Or react to. You were kind of a little overwhelmed at the fact that he'd even gotten you the batteries, and then the way he was looking at you-
"Think romcom sounds good," he interrupted your thoughts, scanning over you.
"Alright," you acknowledged, putting the other ones up, and scooting back next to him -not enough to touch. It was a little awkward and you weren't sure how you were going to-
"I don't bite ya know," he quipped, laughing a little.
You turned to him, grinning, "Well maybe I do."
Rick laughed again for a moment, just looking at you. And then he extended out an arm, welcoming you into his side.
You paused a moment, before carefully guiding yourself to slot into him; the back of your head against his shoulder, and his arm wrapped around the back of your shoulders. You brought your knees up, to carefully balance the DVD player (shaped like a little laptop really). A tiny little screen for the two of you to see on. Logistically, that's why you were so close but a part of you thought a little otherwise.
"I don't," you hummed.
"What?"
"I don't bite."
He laughed a little, "Good."
"Unless you want me to-"
And the laughter that filled the night was just between you and him. And maybe in the morning, you were fast asleep on his shoulder and maybe he looked at you a little like you were the greatest thing he'd ever seen and maybe he shushed all the others just to have the moment last even a second longer.
You'd never really know.
Now, you were in Alexandria. You'd gotten Maggie back, you'd gotten Judith back. You were on a new high, and that meant two things. More pestering, and two, flirting with Rick.
You were walking through Alexandria with Maggie, just keeping her on her feet really. She wasn't super pregnant yet, and it was good to be healthy.
"I cannot believe you're pregnant," you mindlessly remarked, holding Judith close to your side.
"I have been," she retorted, "-for a while. Think ya have had time to digest it."
"But, it's like physical proof that you fucked," you commented, "-unprotected, by the way. I know you missed that sex-ed day, but seriously-"
"Carl's proof that Rick fucked," Maggie defended, eyes smoothing over him with a few of his friends.
"Well," you pursed your lips, "-I know that Rick fucked. Just on principle, he's-"
She motioned for you to zip it, "Don't start. I know you are doin' good, which is great. But it also means ya become a lil' unbearable."
"Me? Unbearable?" You turned to Judith, cooing a little, "-Can you believe the nerve of her, Jude?"
Judith smiled at you with her big brown eyes and toothless little mouth. You pinched her cheek, instinctively, "So cute."
"I still can't believe that you're in love with Ri-"
"I told you that in confidence," you interrupted, pointed.
Maggie stuck out her tongue at you and Judith laughed a little at it. Funny faces, right. You could physically see the pregnancy hormones on her face as she cooed at Judith.
You would've said something, but you had just done it yourself.
"Where's your keeper anyway?" You hummed like you'd been stuck with her (you actively searched her out).
"'E's not my keeper," she responded, sternly (mom voice, already?), "-and he's out on run, gettin' supplies."
"If he's not your keeper, how'd you know who I was talking about?"
"You are so-"
Before she could finish such a kind sentence, the two of you were interrupted. A presence waltzing up to your side.
You turned to look who, and-
Your heart lept into your throat. It was Rick, now clean-shaven, and although, you had loved the beard (don't even get you started), his jaw was on full display. Blue, blue eyes. And dipping to his clothes, he was in a damn uniform.
"Look at you, Rick," you complimented, smiling.
"'Heard ya liked a man in uniform," he smiled (a new type of way), and winked. And before you could say a word, he walked forward -past you.
You stuttered to a stop, Maggie right beside you. Blinking you turned to her, and she looked right back at you. And then you both turned to look at Rick, still walking the same way he was.
Turning back forward, you opened your mouth, "Sorry, did that just happen?"
Maggie hummed, pulling you with her, "It did."
"How did I never think of that?"
"Think of what?" She offered, as you smoothed back into a step with her.
You answered, eyebrows furrowing, "That he might flirt back."
She shrugged, "If it helps, I never thought he would."
"I am not against shoving a pregnant woman," you hissed back, with no bite. You never really had any. And you both broke into laughter, as you roamed through Alexandria.
Now, Daryl was leaning against a house as you stood beside him -pestering as always.
"No, listen," you turned to him, attentively, "-it's called fuck, marry, kill-"
"I ain't playing it with ya."
"C'mon, Daryl, it's fun, look-" you flagged down Glenn (who was carrying a box, of what, who knows?), "-Glenn, fuck, marry, kill. Michonne, Carol, and Daryl."
"Easy," he laughed, "-fuck Michonne, marry Carol, and sorry, dude, but kill Daryl."
"See?" You motioned to Glenn, as he walked forward.
"Don't ya 'ave a wife?" Daryl remarked, as Glenn moved along.
"Oh please," you shook your hand dismissively, "-it's all just fun. Just hypothetical scenarios."
"Okay, now," you started over, "-fuck, marry, kill. Deanna-"
"Kill," he answered -unflinchingly.
"See!" you cheered, "-you're getting the hang of it-"
"What are the two of ya doin'?"
You turned to see the one and only Rick Grimes, a little more worn today, which you kind of preferred, still had those bandaids on (how did he make that look hot?), and more casually dressed. In the white t-shirt, we trust.
"I'm teaching Daryl how to play fuck, marry, kill," you answered, eyes solid on him, "-obviously."
Before he could respond, Daryl chimed up, something mischievous in his eyes. You squinted at him, trying to figure it out. And then he opened his mouth.
"I got one," he spoke, a smile teasing on his lips (looking at Rick, directly), "-Y/N, Glenn, and Rosita."
You stared at the eye contact for a moment (everything was so suspicious), before asking, "What am I supposed to do with myself?"
Daryl shrugged, you bit your lip a second.
"I guess I could kill myself, big waste, but-" you paused, "-ooh, wait, I could, like, clone situation fuck myself-"
"Now, 'at would be a sight to see," a low southern drawl interrupted your words, and your voice faltered to a stop.
You turned to him, squinting at him for a second -trying to understand. All he did was wink at you again, and you hated that it made your knees a little wobbly. Especially when he was holding onto the column of the porch, and slightly leaning toward you-
"Before I was so rudely interrupted," you cleared your throat, "-I would marry Glenn, fuck Rosita, and, tragically, kill myself."
Daryl nodded his head, before motioning to Rick, "What 'bout ya?"
"Am I playin'?" He questioned, finger pointing to himself and eyes dashing to you.
"Might as well," you shrugged, "-you're already over here."
He pursed his lips a second like he was thinking, eyes particularly avoiding you, "An' I can't choose one person for two of 'em?"
You swallowed, oh, he was playing dirty.
"Nope," Daryl answered.
And then, he turned into something much softer, something more familiar, "Then, marry Y/N, fuck Rosita, and kill Glenn."
Marry?
Your heart lept into your throat, and your fingers started fidgeting with your shirt -instinctively. How the hell was he winning? I started this game-
"Thought so," Daryl responded.
And out of the corner of your eye, you saw Carol. Her eyes matched yours a second, and you tried to convey how desperate you were to get away from this very scene. Her eyebrows furrowed for a second, but then she spoke.
"Hey, Y/N! Can you come help me with the food?"
"Of course, Carol," you called back, smiling at the two of them, "-sorry, duty calls."
Rick just grinned at you then, like he knew exactly what you were doing. And you were 100% sure he did. Stupid handsome men with stupidly beautiful blue eyes. Ignoring the fact that you physically brushed against him to get off the porch, you frantically caught up to Carol.
You were in the pantry now, gathering ingredients, Carol directing you -naming them as she found them.
"So," she looked at you, "-are you gonna tell me what that was about?"
You pursed your lips, before answering, "Rick's flirting back with me."
Carol raised her eyebrows at you, "Huh."
"And I was teaching Daryl how to play fuck, marry, kill, and he-" you rapted your fingernails along one of the cans, "-and he said he'd marry me. But all... genuine and shit."
"And that's bad?"
"No, no," you shook your head, putting the can into a basket, "-It's not bad. Just... I don't know if he means it."
"You just said that he said it genuinely," Carol pointed out, grabbing another can.
"Well yeah, but-" you scrambled a moment, "-all that time ago, I was flirting genuinely. I mean even though it was playful, it was still genuine."
"And," she connected the dots, "-you're not sure if he's genuine?"
"Yeah," you skimmed along the shelves, gathering the last can she needed.
"Well," she took it from your hand, blue eyes on you softly, "-if it's worth anything, I think he's genuine. And maybe this is his way of showing how he feels about you."
You hummed, wordlessly.
"He's let you flirt with him this long," she continued, bringing a hand up to your shoulder, "-that has to mean something, doesn’t it?"
She had a point.
"Now," she adjusted the basket, "-are you actually going to help me with the food? Or was it just an excuse to run away from Rick?"
You laughed, "I'll help, I'll help. I'm not a total dick. Speaking of-"
She turned to you.
"Do you know if Rick's full name is Richard?"
It was a few weeks later, and they were filled with frustratingly blue winks. And that was one thing, but now you were being stupid. You were stupid.
You'd thought Oh, it'll be just like old times, I'll go out on a run. It'll be so nice-
And now you were walking with a gunshot would, quickly bandaged by a rip of your t-shirt and whatever you had around you. Which in whatever the hell store it was, was not a lot. All you'd managed to find was alcohol so you at least soaked the shirt.
You'd blearily walked all the way home, eyes foggy, and praying that a walker wouldn't come near you. And now you saw it, Alexandria.
"Gabriel," you called, breathlessly, "-Gabriel, please let me in."
You heard him say something but you were delirious. Maybe something with your name? Head fuzzy and eyes bleary, you were coming down from the high of getting somewhere safe. As you waltzed into Alexandria (pain in the abdomen so hot it almost felt numbing), there was a swarm of people around you immediately. Felt like you were back in the prison, when Maggie would be waiting and you think she was now.
"Hey, hey," she chanted, grabbing your face (and you could see her now), "-look at me, Y/N, tell me what the hell happened."
"Some guy, the bitch," you muttered out, a little slurred you think, "-just shot me, because he wanted the last of the damn Campbell soup, who shoots someone for Campbell soup?"
Her eyes dropped to your body, you mindlessly noted that it was sticky. Your eyes dropped too, and saw all the red -so much red.
"I think I lost a lot of blood, Mags."
"Somebody go get Rick, and the doctor, now," she shouted (loud, loud), before turning back to you, "-How the hell did you get here?"
"I walked," you answered simply.
"You walked?" She responded, hands on your shoulders, "-How did you-"
You were safe now, and everything in your body just gave out.
"Adrenaline is a hell of a drug," you hummed, laughing a little, before falling to the ground.
Your head stung from the ground, as Maggie tried to get down by your side -all pregnant belly.
"'S okay, Mags, don't-" you mumbled "-don't hurt yourself."
She frowned, and you thought she might have tears in her eyes, "I have to stay with you, Y/N, whose going to keep you awake-"
"Glenn," you called, and you saw him saunter up to your side, a little slurred, "-take care of 'er, help her sit. Don't worry, Mags, don't worry-"
You heard a slap of footsteps then, quick and brisk, and before you could wonder who, blue eyes and rough hands were guiding your face. He was starting to grow his stubble back, you mindlessly noted.
"Rick," you smiled a little fuzzily, reaching up and patting his face, "-See Mags, Rick'll take care of me."
"Hey, hey," he brought your focus to him, "-keep lookin' at me, okay?"
"Well," you slurred a little, "-'at's not very hard, sheriff."
He turned to the crowd then, voice low and gruff, "What the hell happened?"
You heard Maggie respond then, through sobs, "'Ey said that some guy shot 'em, over a... over some food."
"Didn't even ask if he could have 'em, first. Who does that-"
"Daryl," he motioned -tone low, and he immediately nodded. You watched him leave your eyesight.
Rick instead, brought your face back to him, as you recognized the doctor to be by your side, scrambling with some white stuff.
"Hey, hey, baby," he spoke, low in a whisper, "-I'm 'ere, focus on me. Look at me."
You smiled again, delirious, "You called me baby, that feels nice. Everythin' else burns-"
"I kno', I kno'," he soothed, you felt pressure on your abdomen (hissing in pain, as your eyes got more blurry), "-ya did a good job gettin' back 'ere. To where you're safe. Ya did a good job."
"Just kept walking," you slurred, "-couldn't stop. Wasn't gonna die to some asshole."
Rick laughed then a little, and you felt something a little different than pain. Your hands naturally came to his face, mindlessly rubbing your thumbs against his cheekbones. He's always been so handsome, only gets better with time.
You noticed he leaned into it a little, careful not to hurt you. Yeah, you realized, he was genuine.
God, what if you had missed out on this, with Rick? All because of some stupid can of soup-
"Rick," you started, and he looked at you a little like you held the world, you were the world maybe, "-I think I'm gonna die."
"You're not, no-" he held his hand over yours (it was so warm. Why had you never held his hand?), "-You're not gonna die, baby. You're gonna be fine."
"I'm bleeding," you breathed out, scanning over him, "-Been bleeding the whole time. You're not supposed to bleed that much, Rick."
"Ya ain't gonna die," he repeated, hands gathering your face, "-Look at me, ya ain't dyin'."
Concern clear on his face, you felt the urge to soothe, soothe, soothe-
You looked at him, eyes scanning over his face. He was handsome, yeah, but he was caring, smart, and so, so kind. You wanted to tell him that, see what he'd say. What he'd do.
"'Said that you were a good man, 'at you have a big heart," you hummed, eyes languidly blinking, "-still mean it. Don't you forget it."
He looked at you for a second, eyes flicking all over your face, before looking to the doctor. She must've said something (your ears felt stuffy) because then Rick was picking you up. He was everywhere, smell, sight. All you could feel was Rick, body heat thrumming and blooming into your side.
"Always knew you were strong," you mindlessly remarked.
You felt Rick laugh in his chest, and your eyelids were so heavy then. You slowly began blinking, your brain slowing down. Maybe you could close your eyes just for a little bit.
"Got so much to say to ya."
And then, it all faded to black.
This blanket is scratchy as hell, you mindlessly remarked. It was almost like a thin sheet, barely coating you, and you think if you moved your arms, it would make that noise that shitty bedsheets did. Why were hospital beds so bad? Shouldn't they be comfortable?
And then your nose was hit with the heavy sterilized air. You scrunched your nose up on instinct, it made your throat burn-
"Y/N? Darlin'?"
You slowly blinked your eyes open, heavy and languid; they always had those florescent lights too. How was that helpful?
"'S too fucking bright in here."
You heard him laugh a little, maybe in relief mostly, and you blearily blinked to get a look at him.
"'D turn it down for ya if I could."
You laughed a little and squinted your eyes open, laying gently on him. He looked a little worse for wear, his hair messy and shirt a little crooked. You wanted to fix his curls back in place, and your hand moved before you could stop it.
Gently, you threaded his hair back. He was a breath away from where you laid, so it wasn't too far of a reach.
Rick looked at you so softly, that the words cut off your from your lips. And with a breath, he pulled your hand down from his hair, sliding it against his cheek. Before you could say a word about it, he turned his head and gently kissed your palm.
You bit at your lip, eyes flickering over him, "How long have you been here?"
"Since the doc' allowed me to be," he answered, fidgeting with your hand -not really wanting to let go, you guessed.
"And Mags?" You asked, concern flickering through your eyes, "-Are she and the baby okay?"
"Yeah," he looked at you, a little in disbelief, "-they're alright. She was stressed, yeah, but Glenn kept 'er calm."
"And," your eyes darted to your abdomen, where your wound now hid, "-the wound?"
"Good," he replied, eyes swimming over you like he couldn't quite believe you were okay, "-Doc' says ya just need to rest, not irritate the stitches. Which I kno' will be hard for ya."
You sighed, leaning your head back onto the bed, looking up at the ceiling, "I am going to be so bored."
Rick chuckled a little, before falling suspiciously quiet. You turned to him, just to see him looking down and fidgeting with your hand -a little like he was working on saying something. You simply waited.
"'Ve been looking for those batteries since ya said ya wanted 'em," he spoke, a little quietly.
You froze, "Since the prison?"
"Yeah," he offered, "-apparently 'ey're a hot commodity."
"Why?" You questioned, looking at him curiously, "-Why all that work for some batteries?"
"Because," he hummed simply, eyes matching yours now, "-ya wanted 'em."
You pushed your lips into a thin line, the glimmer of hope sparking in your chest. Not saying a word, you just stared at him for a second; not unlike in the early days, you were just admiring him for a lot more than his (still unbelievably handsome) face.
"Y/N, I-" he started, eyes dipping back down to your hands. He seemed to pause a moment, debating.
And then he looked up at you, eyes set in his path -unflinchingly. In a sort of understanding, like everything made sense to him now. The silence was heavy until he leaned forward and brushed his hand along your cheek -carefully. It made you feel precious, and your eyes maybe got a little cloudy because of it.
"I'm in love with ya," he let out a breath, tone heavy and genuine, "-an... and the way ya blatantly hit on me but in the damn most genuine type of way."
You laughed a little and leaned gently into his palm. He looked at you in a way you couldn't label then, or maybe you could (love), and rubbed his thumb along your cheekbone.
"I didn't know how to react to it, at first," he hummed, something settled in his eyes, "-the attention ya gave me. 'S somethin' I've never dealt with before."
"Really?" You let slip past your lips, and his grin grew wide as he let his head fall and shook it, smiling at the ground.
"Even now," he laughed a little, turning his gaze up again, "-ya always said thin's like it was so easy to do. Like ya were tellin' me 'at the sun was hot."
"You did give me some pretty good set ups," you clarified, smiling at him.
"'Never meant to," he added, grinning a little in wonder, "-I couldn't think straight when ya said 'em, so I'm surprised I even did."
You hummed, eyes twinkling at him and he looked at you just a little more like he was in love. It made a spark shoot down to your toes, warmth flooding your chest.
"If it's worth anything," you spoke, a little embarrassed, "-my brain stops working when you do the fond thing."
"The fond thing?"
"It's just," you sighed, trying to articulate, "-It's a way that you look at me, or... or smile at me. When you do the soft stuff."
"What exactly is-" he hummed, gently, holding your attention like your words really mattered, "-'the soft stuff'?"
"Uh," you blew a raspberry with your lips, "-like giving me the batteries, and... and that whole conversation actually."
"Oh," he laughed a little, blue eyes twinkling, "-like I was in love with ya."
"What? No, you weren't... not that early-"
And then you looked at him.
"Shit," you marveled, "-really?"
"Like I said," he smiled at you, a little like you were cute, "-I looked for those batteries for months. For ya. An'-"
His face got a little more serious.
"-I really missed ya. 'At was probably when I first realized it."
You rolled your lip inbetween your teeth, "Yeah?"
"Ya used to make everybody laugh, and were always smilin'-" he explained, "-it wasn't even just the flirtin', it was just... I knew ya were hurtin', an' I couldn't help. Or I... I didn't know what to do to help."
You just stared.
"An' I missed ya so desperately, I just-" he let out a breath, "-It all clicked into place, and I went on 'at run, hopin' to god there were batteries-"
You laughed a little weepily, leaning into his hand.
"-because I just wanted to make ya feel better. Bring ya back to me."
"How the hell did you even find them?" You questioned, wiping at your eyes, "-It couldn't have been that lucky."
"'Wasn't," he replied simply, "-I was only supposed to do a few stores, I did the whole strip."
"God, really?" You smiled, "-For batteries?"
"No," he hummed, simply, "-for ya."
You fell quiet.
"I would do anythin' for ya," he added, voice a little breathless, "-anythin'."
"Anything?"
Rick laughed a little, grin bright, "Ya need to rest, baby."
"That's not a no," you chimed, grinning.
He looked at you a certain type of way then, "'S definitely not a no."
You felt your heart pound in your chest for a moment. That was something to look forward to. Something stirred in your stomach.
"What?" He asked, teasing, "-Ya all bark and no bite, hmm?"
"If I wasn't bedridden," you spoke flatly, "-I would kick your ass."
"Ya would," he agreed.
And you laughed, eyes smoothing over his face. Before noticing something you hadn't quite said yet.
Words fell out of your lips, "Even though you probably already know, because I've chasing you all this time-"
He smiled at you.
"-I love you too," you finished, "-if it wasn't obvious."
"'Was kinda obvious," he leveled -teasing, but something was sparkling so bright in his eyes that you didn't really mind.
"Yeah, yeah," you moved your hand dismissively, "-don't start, sheriff."
You paused for a moment, eyes dancing along the room, "Do I get to go home today?"
"No," he spoke, with a certainty that shook through your bones (this man had literally everything), "-'Need to be taken care of, so ya are stayin' wit' me until you're healed."
You blinked at him, he was doing the fond thing again. Your mind relaxed to a low hum.
"Maybe after too," he added, tone softer but not any less certain, "-if ya want."
You stared at him, wordless.
Rick blinked, looking at you, before grinning, "'At the fond thing?"
"Yeah," you cleared your throat, embarrassed, "-I don't... It's been a long time since I've been cared for. At all. And you're a very handsome man offering to-"
"Not offerin'," he clarified, eyes set on yours, "-just doin'. 'Specially now, 'cause I kno' ya love me too."
All headstrong, decisive, and certain. How was this happening to you?
"'Thought you said it was obvious?"
"It was," he hummed, grinning at you, "-I could just barely wrap my head around ya flirtin' with me. Couldn't really see it."
You thought for a second, before speaking, "Was it Daryl?"
He grinned at you, tilting his head a little, "Maybe."
"Always knew he was a big softie," you hummed, "-read him like a book when we first met. Stone layers to an ooey-gooey center."
Rick scrunched up his nose, "Ooey-gooey center?"
"Sometimes," you sighed, "-Sometimes I say stupid shit around really attractive people. It's a habit."
"'Guess 'at means you're still gonna be flirting with me?"
"As long as you want me to, sheriff," you clarified.
"So maybe forever then," he grinned and you felt your heart leap into your chest (fuck his fond things). You were totally never getting over that.
"Yeah," you hummed in agreement, "-Maybe forever then."
Mission accomplished.
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monstersw1thv1bes · 2 days
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so guys how are we feeling? i have a few things to say. my thoughts, in no particular order:
steven said very, very little. ryan and Shane were mostly speaking. but honestly with the hate he's been receiving? i don't blame him. nobody had any proof Steven made the decision on his own and yet the internet unanimously decided thats what happened.
saying you're close to shutting down the company when you've literally just hired new people you didn't need? i mean, that doesn't necessarily mean it's a lie, but it shows very, very poor management at the least.
they need to hire less creative people rn. hire someone to run finance. hire someone to run marketing. hire people who actually know what the fuck they're doing when it comes to making sure a business thrives if you're going to hire new people at all.
you want to be a business, you need to stop thinking like a youtube channel. this is why you can't just start a company with your friends if none of you have business experience in this day and age.
unfortunately when you run a business, you have to lay off people you don't need sometimes. better yet: train people you don't need to do the job you want to hire somebody else to do (my boss does this so you can't tell me it doesn't work). loyalty to your employees breeds loyalty to your company, but you can't just let people keep doing something you don't need them to do if you want to run a succesful business.
if you can't pay your staff, why can you drop 55k on your wedding?
if you can't pay your staff, why can you afford to travel abroad and eat literal gold?
if you can't pay your staff, why are you compromising on your integrity instead of literally any of the expensive things your company is doing?
i love how they didn't once adress that they could literally save money by dropping the shows nobody wants to see. if you have so many loyal fans and some of your shows aren't doing well, you can't just blame the youtube algorithm: that is people actively making a choice not to watch something.
they didn't say anything about the high quality production of shows, either. they would have been completely in their right to say "our goal was always to produce TV-quality content and while we know you guys don't need that from us, we don't want to compromise on that goal" (even though I disagree on them always needing that quality, i would have accepted such a statement) but i feel like not mentioning it at all makes the video feel more like damage control than them actually listening to their fans.
the changes they've now made should have been how they went about this from the start if they were dead set on a streaming service.
i'm curious to see how others respond to this. to me it genuinely does feel like damage control. i'm probably not going to watch them anymore. we'll see how i feel when new content does make it to the plebs who get to watch it for free /j.
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rubyuji · 2 days
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Restless (Lee Chan) ౨ৎ⋆˚。⋆ ☕️
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“OK enough, as far as I know, you know way more about me than I do about you. So, tell me about yourself?” 𓂃 ࣪˖
Genre: Fluff (this is just the sweetest thing ever, I can’t)
AU: Nonidol!au, College!au
Pairing: Dino x afab!reader
Warnings: none
Synopsis: After a week of traveling for school, Chan was ready to get home and crash onto his bed for the weekend. The problem? He was locked out for the night as his parents and younger brother had gone to visit their relatives on short notice, so he turned to his only option, you.
Note: Another recycled fic from my drafts that I never really finished ;; I’m popping out fics left and right atp but this one has a lack of proofreading and editing. Happy reading again guys, don’t forget to like + reblog!
Word Count: 2.8k
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“Bye Ms Kim! Bye, everyone! It was so nice to be with you all in Japan, until our next competition. You all did well” Chan bowed toward his teachers and fellow students as he left the bus, bag slung over his shoulder.
Once he was on the pavement, Chan sighed and hastily walked into his building, ready to pass out on his bed. He clicks the elevator button to the floor he lives on while fidgeting with the new keychain he had bought as a souvenir. The ride was taking longer than usual for some reason.
When the elevator dinged, indicating that he had arrived, Chan eagerly stepped out and headed for the door of his family’s apartment. Instead of him being able to open it easily with the password, the lock buzzes and the sound causes Chan to frown in confusion. Did his family decide to change the house code while he was away?
As Chan was about to try one more time, his brother had texted him about how they had gone to see family and forgot he would arrive that day, adding that wouldn’t be back until the next morning.
Seeing this, Chan runs a hand through his hair and huffs. He was so ready to get the rest he badly needed until an idea came to mind.
Chan turns towards the apartment next to his family’s and grins, you were probably home, right? A girl who was his age, living independently next to his family, probably wouldn’t have many places to be, so he tried the last bit of his luck.
You hear your doorbell ring and wonder who would be at your door late into the evening. As per your paranoid self, you bring a knife to the door, being a girl and living alone with her cat wasn’t exactly the ideal situation to be in, especially at this hour.
You hesitantly peek into your peephole and your jaw falls slack as you struggle to open the door. What the hell was Chan doing at your doorstep? You thought his family would be at home like usual, the Lee family never really went anywhere and would often invite you over so this came as a surprise.
“Chan? That’s new, what brings you here?” You squint at the boy and he chuckles awkwardly, a hand scratching his cheek.
He had his backpack still on his back and a small stroller next to him, he looked like he had just come back from the airport. ‘Oh, I forgot he flew to Japan last week for a dance competition,’ you thought to yourself.
“My family forgot about me arriving today and left to go see my relatives without me, so uh, I had no other option? Unless you’re uncomfortable with me staying for a night, I can just call up one of my friends to let me crash at theirs” Chan cringed at his own words.
Seungkwan lived an hour outside the main city and Vernon lived in a one-bedroom apartment that barely had anything but a bed and a place for his pet iguana. Mingyu was at his sister’s place, and Soonyoung had gone with his family, the house already cramped enough with two grown kids and their parents. He genuinely had no other option.
“What? No, it’s fine. I’ve known you and your family since the day I moved in, it’s the least I can do since you guys have been nice to me. Now come in,” You moved aside so Chan could shuffle in, and in his head, he made a mental note to thank you later when he wasn’t as tired from the jet lag.
You helped him move his things into the guest room before getting him settled. He looked exhausted, and as much as your crush on the boy had started to take in how adorable he was, you couldn’t afford to scare him off when he seemed like he had no other place to go.
“You can use the shower, I have extra products for guests in the second drawer so you’re free to use that as you like. I was making dinner so you’re also welcome to join me in case you haven’t eaten yet. Make yourself at home,” You offered Chan a shy smile and the boy felt his heart skip a beat. Have you always been that pretty?
Chan snapped himself out of his daze and nodded before smiling back at you. “Thanks, I seriously owe you a lot for letting me stay the night. I’m sorry for coming up on short notice,” he says bashfully. You were very kind and the fact that you even offered him dinner was crazy enough as it is.
“Hey, it’s no biggie. I don’t have guests over that often so it’s nice to have someone around now and then. Call this our first unofficial sleepover if you will,” You laugh and Chan can’t help but feel flustered around you. You were so calm despite everything, it was almost impressive to him.
You put your hands together and excuse yourself, making Chan stand up and smile at you once more before you leave the room.
“Towels are in that cabinet under the desk, I think you already have the password here since it’s just my cat’s name in lowercase letters,” Chan once again nods as he watches your figure disappear into the rest of the apartment.
The silence welcomes Chan as he turns to observe every inch of the room. It was very minimal with a simple white desk, a few pictures on display, and two candles off to the side. A white double-door closet stood at the opposite end of the bed, a plant in a gray pot right next to it.
A part of the wall had postcards from places he assumed you had gone to, as well as some awards from your school. It was nice how the room still had a few elements of you in it despite it being a guest room, he would’ve never known that you had topped your class or that you had been to France.
Grabbing a towel from the cabinet and some clothes from his bag, Chan then made his way over to your bathroom. As he was passing the kitchen, he saw your back and got a whiff of whatever you were making for dinner. It smelled like meat and ramyeon, something he had missed dearly during his entire trip to Japan.
Chan enters the bathroom quietly to avoid distracting you and looks at how organized everything is, noting that the room itself is also well-lit.
‘Maybe I should take a selfie in here later,’ he thought while checking himself in the mirror, only to grimace at his appearance shortly after. He looked beat despite the flight only being three hours.
You hear the shower turn on from the outside and continue to finish up plating the food, your cat rubbing herself against you as you bend down to pet her.
“It’s a bit weird, but you don’t mind having him around right?” Luna meows as if saying ‘Not at all’ and you chuckle.
“Well Luna, you already know how much I talk about him and it’s no surprise,” you tell your cat in a whisper. The shower halts and you bring the food to the coffee table in front of your TV, turning Netflix on while waiting for Chan.
“Oh, no way! Ramyeon and meat? You made this for me?” You hear Chan say dramatically as he clutches his chest. The reaction causes you to laugh as the boy plops himself on the couch beside you.
Seeing Chan in your peripheral almost made you choke on your bowl because of how good he looked. He was wearing a white shirt and grey sweats, so simple yet he looked godly.
“Not for you but I made extra ok! Wash the dishes with me at least since you still are technically a guest,” you joke.
Chan hums without another word and that was when you choked on your food. Wow, it was that easy? You thought you were going crazy. He looks at you oddly and raises an eyebrow at you.
“Sorry, I was shocked at how you agreed so quickly,” Chan laughed at your words before taking in the last bit of food on his plate, collecting all the dishes once you leaned back on the couch and sighed in contentment.
“Y/n, you said you’d do the dishes with me!” Chan whined from the kitchen. After opening your eyes and huffing, you then make your way into the kitchen and see Chan’s back in front of the sink.
“I have a dishwasher by the way, we can just rinse these off and put them in,” you say as a matter of fact.
Chan turns toward you with a huff and watches you open the space beside him, seeing you put in the rest of the dishes and turning them on.
“Remind me never to do dishes over here ever again” Chan frowns, a pout set on his lips as you wipe your hands dry.
“I’m honestly way too bored to watch something right now, do you mind just chatting for a bit? I’m too full,” the two of you walk into the living room once again before the boy hums with a smile. You sit on the couch and throw a blanket over the two of you.
Chan shifts to make himself more comfortable, suddenly noticing a very obvious lump under the blanket that slowly starts making its way toward you. “Luna, what did I say about hiding under the blanket? You’re so naughty.”
Grabbing your cat from under the covers, you then put her on top of your lap, her blue eyes staring straight into Chan’s soul. “Does she always stare? Her eyes are very, blue. It’s like she’s staring straight through me” he says, and takes a closer look at your cat.
“Sorry about her, I haven’t had anyone over in weeks so Luna’s fascinated by a new presence at the house” You giggle while petting her. Chan feels his heart do flips, seeing you in your most natural state made him fall for you just a tad bit more if that was even possible.
“Anyway, where have you been? Your parents told me you were in Japan or something. How was it there?” You grin.
You had been to Japan quite a few times, from what Chan could tell. If he could vaguely remember, one of the postcards in your room said Osaka and Kyoto, even Kobe.
“Ah yeah, we had our most recent competition there, it was great. A lot of sightseeing and whatnot for the most, I wish I went outside of Tokyo but we couldn’t leave so I had to settle with just exploring the city,” Chan breathes out, recalling the memories he made with his friends Yeonjun and Changbin.
“That sounds so cool! I’ve been to Tokyo loads of times and honestly, city life is way too busy for me. I think visiting the more provincial areas is great if you want the feeling of peace.” Chan noticed a bit of a distant look in your eyes and wondered if you were thinking about your memories in Japan as well.
Luna suddenly meows and jumps onto Chan’s lap, causing the two of you to jolt up out of surprise. “Huh, she’s usually weary of everyone. This is a first for her,” you say with a soft smile.
Chan pets Luna with a soft smile on his face, the image making your heart flutter. It was impossible to contain your crush on the male any longer after everything that happened, hell, even your cat liked him as much as you did.
“Well, hi there Luna. You’re adorable and look just like your owner. Y/n, you legitimately like your cat, she’s like a mini clone of yours.” Your cheeks heat up at Chan’s stare, the male looking between you and the cat as his eyes linger a bit too long on you.
“OK enough, as far as I know, you know way more about me than I do about you. So, tell me about yourself?” Chan says after a minute of silence.
You jolt at his voice and look at him with an awkward smile. There wasn’t much to say about yourself if you were being honest, you couldn’t gauge anything interesting enough to tell the boy.
“I can’t think of anything, I’m a pretty boring person,” Chan frowns at your words. Boring? That didn’t seem right to him, there was probably more to you than you think, he just had to get it out of you somehow.
“Are you sure? Y/n, you’ve gone to Japan and a lot of other countries, judging from your guest bedroom alone, and I think that’s interesting enough as it is.” You blush at Chan’s words, this was the first time someone had ever asked about you, and you felt grateful towards him.
“Thank you, Chan, that’s honestly super sweet of you to say. I just traveled a lot from a young age since I was offered the opportunity to, but for now, I’m just taking a break from it all. Moving to different places in such a fast-paced environment becomes exhausting once you get older,” You play with your hands and recall every single place you’ve been to.
Traveling and moving was all you had ever known since early childhood, due to your parents moving around a lot because of their jobs and because they were always just super busy people in general. One day, you just got so used to all of it that settling down for the first time in college felt foreign to you.
“That’s honestly really cool, I’ve only ever known the practice room and the music so dancing is like my version of that. Now that I was offered the opportunity to travel, I didn’t realize it would be so overwhelming, especially as a first-timer.” Chan smiles comfortingly.
He truly admired you a lot. After getting a feel of what your life was like, before settling down into one place, he was intrigued by your way of life. How things worked after you had gotten used to it all, and how you coped with the amount of change you were faced with.
“I guess we still do have quite a lot to learn from each other then. You have a lot to tell me, and I think that’s very clear based on our current ordeal.” Chan laughs.
You shrug your shoulders and throw him a sheepish smile. No one had ever been curious about you, or how you lived your life, unlike how Chan did. It felt refreshing to be able to share your life experiences and what you had gone through with someone who listened.
Sure, you did have your friends who were also curious about you, and that's how your friendships even came to be, but Chan was different.
You always thought you’d only have a few chance encounters with the boy next door, but you never thought you’d have him sitting beside you on your couch as you go over your life with him.
“I never really got the chance to talk about my life as much, but you were willing to listen to me like it was nothing. If I continue yapping though, we’d take forever and I don’t want to keep you up any longer since you are still tired from your flight,” You say, and look at Chan beside you.
A pout stays on his face, but he had totally forgotten about the jet lag and how badly he wanted to just pass out after spending time with you.
Chan truly couldn’t get enough of you, and he starts to feel a crush blooming in his chest, not like he had one already, he just never acted on his feelings towards you.
“Don’t be like that, I live next door so you’re technically welcome to come over anytime. Now go on, I’ll let you rest up. I’ll be in my room if you need me ok? Goodnight Chan,” You tilt your head a bit as you greet him goodnight, and Chan swears he felt his heart melt right at that very moment. It didn't help that your adorable cat was rubbed up against your leg too.
“I will, thanks again for letting me stay Y/n. Goodnight, sleep well,” Chan breathes out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. You grin and turn in the direction of your room, Luna following closely behind you.
Chan was restless when he came but with your presence alone, it seems like he could stay up for a whole week if he could.
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© rubyuji 2024’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.
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grimrester · 2 days
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purely speculative stuff about watcher's business behind the cut
cr1tikal/penguinz0 talked in his video about the watcher announcement about how he has staff and he doesn't believe they weren't pulling in enough to pay them, but i also don't know how much charlie knows about watcher's setup and team.
charlie's esports team has high salaries that he pays, sure. but watcher has many people with some pretty high-salary titles, and they're friends or family of the ryan/shane/steven. it is really hard to negotiate a low starting salary in that position.
on top of that, they operate in LA, pay for a pretty big set, and do generally more expensive content than charlie. charlie streams from his room and half of watcher content requires travel. it's entirely conceivable to me that their business expenses are really high for a youtube channel.
they also recently hired two more folks for some of steven's content.
the vimeo OTT platform is extraordinarily quick to set up. you can get started with their base package without even doing a demo. given that they dont have the app included in the bigger enterprise option, i'd guess they went this route. they first started teasing the announcement only FIVE days ago, which is a pretty short runway compared to other content creator announcements. (try guys is currently teasing something about a month away, by comparison.)
from the start, none of this has felt well thought out. even though they said they articulated their reasoning poorly in the announcement, the core message of the announcement and the apology is the same: "we can't afford to continue operating as we have, and don't want to scale back."
i think they just recently did some number crunching and realized they were in deep shit. as i've speculated in other posts, they didn't do market research and were way too optimistic about their conversion rate. they were also relying on their initial pitch of taking everything off youtube to push people on the platform. i do think they are genuinely scrambling.
the part of this that they're going to have to work on for the next few months to a year, though, is that they should have known their business was unsustainable WAY before now. this reeks of no one paying attention to the books. it should not have come to scrambling for a new way to bring in a lot of revenue, fast. this is the kind of thing you don't usually see until a company is about to release a death rattle. it's the same last-ditch move as collegehumor going under and dropout going fully paid as the only way to survive.
except dropout wasn't responsible for collegehumor's mismanagement, and they also told people they were going to die otherwise.
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willowrites · 3 days
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REQUEST. can you do one for either sam or colby with a reader who’s a medium?
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PAIRINGS. sam x medium fem!reader
SUMMARY. sam and colby have watched a few of your videos and have been following you on instagram for quite some time. sam in particular has grown an interest in you and wanted to shoot his shot but didn’t know how. given your ability to have one foot in the afterlife and another on earth they’ve invited you to tag along for an investigation …
WARNINGS. nothing! friends to lovers, cute fluffy stuff, a little bit of kissing…
AUTHORS NOTE. i loved doing this because i’ve always dreamt of having the capabilities that mediums do !! hope u enjoyyy
WORD COUNT. 2700+
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you hadn’t always known you had the ability to see and talk to people who have passed on.
you thought it was normal.
you had many imaginary friends who weren’t always imaginary. you had conversations with people who your parents couldn’t see.
there were many occurrences in which you’d see apparitions for one second and then in another, they’re gone.
it was at the age of 11 when you realized that what and who you’d see and talk to were people and things that others couldn’t see or talk to.
you started researching and asking the internet.
are ghosts real?
can i see and talk to ghosts?
what are people who can see and talk to ghosts called?
confirmation of you possibly being a medium struck your brain. you continued doing research since then and now at the age of 24, you’re categorized as a medium who can talk to people who have passed and communicate with them as well as see them.
you set up an instagram and made sure that information was somewhere on there.
@/visuallyy/n
bio: spirits are my best friends
after you create an instagram and put that information in there. you tried to do some investigations of your own.
your first at your own house. you caught some good activity but none people would believe. so after that, you started collaborating with other people whether it was other mediums, psychics, ghost hunters, paranormal investigators, etc.
you enjoyed working with other people and getting to know more about the afterlife and spiritual world so when you got a message from sam golbach you were more than ecstatic.
@/samgolbach
hey y/n, it’s sam from the sam and colby youtube channel. i just wanted to reach out to ask if you were ever up for a collaboration of some sort. we could go check out a haunted location and i think we’d have a lot of fun. i’ve seen some of your videos with other channels and you’re really special we’d love to have you on the channel
let me know!
holy shit.
the sam golbach. from sam and colby.
sam was someone you had admired for a long time. you first noticed him on vine and he was super funny. you’d watch both his and colby’s vines daily. when they started doing paranormal and exploration videos, you became a loyal watcher.
to @/samgolbach
hi sam! omg, i cannot believe i am reading this message right now! i would love to tag along with you guys on one of your investigations. i’ve watched all of your videos and you guys are truly something.
like i said it would be an honor just let me know where and when! 💗 much love
as you sent the message you were jumping up and down and kicking your feet back and forth.
a few days had passed and you were beginning to think they changed their minds. you started losing hope but didn’t let that bring your mood down.
as you were making yourself an afternoon snack you heard your phone ding.
Notification: Instagram
@/samgolbach
sorry for the late response we have been brainstorming a few ideas for our next videos…
you were so quick to click on the notification.
@/samgolbach:
sorry for the late response we have been brainstorming a few ideas for our next videos but that is great news. is it possible for us to video chat later on so we can discuss some ideas? we just want to make sure everything is okay with you.
video chat? you thought that was insane.
you’d be video chatting with sam and colby.
oh, my fucking go-
@/samgolbach:
it would also be great to see your face as we discuss plans 😆
as soon as you saw that second message you felt like collapsing.
he wanted to see your face? okay, maybe you were overreacting…
you were trying to think of what to respond with. when would you look your best? you thought.
your thinking sparked you to get ready just for the video call and you sent a message back.
to @/samgolbach:
i’ll be free by 4! definitely looking forward to it :)
he liked your message and then agreed that 4:30 would be a perfect time.
you didn’t do much to your hair or face. all you did was tame your hair like how you usually would and put on your usual makeup.
you were waiting for the time to hit 4:30. you were nervous but so very excited.
as the clock was 4:25 you got an email
www.zoomlink
no harm in seeing you early! he sent along with the link.
your heart felt like it was going to beat out of its chest.
you opened the link which directed you straight to the meeting.
you then turned your camera on and the mic off. sam and colby were already there on camera just talking to each other without the mic.
then once it made a sound that you had entered they paused and you earned an exciting smile from sam.
“y/n!” sam’s voice played through your computer speaker. “so glad to see you made it!”
“hi y/n! i’m colby!” colby sent a smile your way and waved to the camera.
“hi, nice to meet you guys!” you blushed extremely hard.
“how is your day going so far?” sam asked running a hand through his hair.
“it’s uh…well honestly it’s going great. i was a little bit nervous to meet with you guys if i’m being honest,” you replied moving your hair to the back of your neck so that it wasn't in your face.
"what? that's insane, colby and i were nervous you wouldn't be up for a collaboration!" he continued to make conversation.
"what no! im thrilled, i always watched you guys since vine and then i watched even more when you guys started doing urbanex and haunted places! you guys started doing that as i was starting to become more familiar with my capabilities." you explained. "and then when you reached out to me, my heart was beating out of my chest. it was kind of like a dream turned into reality.
"wow, that's actually super cool that you've been watching us since that long ago." colby mentioned. "we've had an eye on you since you collaborated with seth and josh!"
"yeah ever since then we've always wanted to reach out to you." sam then added giving you a soft smile. gosh, his smile was so cute.
"thats so good to hear!" you giggled.
you giggled.
"well, why don't we start chatting about where we could explore..." colby proposed. you and sam nodded, both having the rosiest cheeks.
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you and sam have exchanged several messages since your zoom call. some professional and about the collaboration, and some about your personal lives.
from @/samgolbach
can i get your number? you know for professional ghosthunting biz...
to @/samgolbach
yeah sure! for professional ghosthunting biz... :)
(xxx) xxx-xxxx sent you a message
hi its sam
to (xxx) xxx-xxxx
hi sam its y/n
from sam
hmm, glad you didn't give me a fake number
to sam
why would i give you a fake number
from sam
because maybe ur too scared to collab with us? hmm, are you?
to sam
no no, i find this kind of stuff exciting. i love learning more about the afterlife and spirits and all that other stuff.
from sam
same! honestly, its super exciting. although if I get too excited I do dumb shit...
to sam
like what? get demons stuck in your ass?
from sam
ha. ha. ha. not funny...
to sam
sorry! although i think sallie found it funny.
from sam
yeah i think she definitely enjoyed it
you couldn't help the grin that made its way onto your face.
these harmless conversations kept going on ever since you had exchanged numbers. you guys talked every day even after your collaboration was done.
he made you so much happier than you were before. you became very close friends with colby as well. them two stepping into your life brought you many other close friends that you could call family.
yours and sams conversation would go from your personal life, to favorite shows, to where you've traveled, and now to past relationships.
sam told you about his and surprisingly went into depth with it which you honestly felt happy about because that meant he trusted you.
after he was done you felt it was only right for you to share that you had only one serious relationship before and it ended pretty rough, even though you had closure, the relationship taught you a lot and not in a good way.
he responded like a gentleman saying he was surprised that no one swept a beautiful girl like you off their feet.
that comment made you blush. you blushed so much you might as well have been kicking your feet back and forth.
your response was a simple thank you because you didn't know how to flirt or move forward and frankly, you were scared.
after that, you started to form a different kind of liking toward sam. you were always looking forward to his text messages and when he didn't text back you were constantly checking your phone to see if by any chance he had.
then one day he invited you over to watch a movie; specifically the exorcist. you were super excited but a little bit nervous. you were in charge of bringing drinks while the others had another responsibility.
as you were done getting dressed you got a text from sam. you looked at it and did a double-take.
from sam 💕
hurry and get your pretty self over here!
your heart took a leap. he was constantly taking every opportunity to compliment you which is something you’re not used to.
to sam 💕
i’m going im going! i’m so excited :)
from sam 💕
i’m excited to see you
again, your body had a reaction to the text.
you hurried and packed up all the drinks in your car before starting it and heading over towards his house; well his and colby’s house.
as you were parking you noticed more cars than you thought would be parked. you started to become nervous.
how big was this watch party? who will be there? will you be the outsider?
from sam 💕
i’ll open the gate for you so you can park in the driveway
you felt relief as you turned around to pass the house once more so that you could drive inside. you saw the gate starting to open and made your way inside parking in the driveway next to another car that was there.
you shut the car off climbing out to see sam on the porch.
“so glad you’re here!” he smiles. “it’s gonna be so fun. here let me help you.” he walked towards the door to the backseat opened it and took the cooler that you had brought and set it on the ground.
“thank you for the invite.” you smiled shyly.
you two made your way up to the front of the house and as you were about to open the door he was quick to leap in front of you taking the handle in his hand and opening it for you.
“what a gentleman!” you replied walking through.
“always for you,” he said causing your face to grow hot.
“yo y/n! glad you could make it!” colby shouted walking over to you and bringing you in for a hug.
“glad i could as well.” you nodded.
“come on over this way, sam can take the drinks in the kitchen.” he waved over for you to follow him.
you followed taking in your surroundings. this isn’t your first time at their house but you’re still starting to become familiar with the environment.
colby leads you into the den area where there are a few more people. you saw familiar faces mostly from youtube. like the sturniolo triplets, jake webber, tara yummy, johnnie guilbert, larry, and a girl you’ve seen on sam and colby’s videos once before.
“guys this is y/n! she was in one of our videos a while ago and we’ve become super close friends!” he introduced you earning a wave. “y/n, this is jake, tara, johnny, larry, chris, matt, nick, and amanda. amanda is also a fellow medium!”
your heart leaped. you’d been looking for more medium or psychic friends so you could get advice or any information.
“oh my gosh! you’re a medium! so nice to meet you i’m amanda the medium haha! it’s so good to meet you.” amanda brought you in for a hug.
“it’s a pleasure! i admire you, you’ve helped me come to terms with a lot of stuff and helped me explore more about my capabilities, so thank you so much!” you gushed.
“wow that’s so good to hear i’m flattered, thank you. we have so much to talk about.” you both sat down and started chatting.
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when the movie started you were sitting next to amanda and sam. sam came to sit next to you as the movie was starting which had you extremely excited.
throughout the whole movie, you felt gentle brushes against your knee as sam would move closer which had you moving a little closer inch by inch.
when the movie came to an end the group went outside to have a quick little bonfire where you guys chatted once more.
then afterwards everyone left agreeing it was well past their bedtime fortunately leaving you and sam alone outside.
“y/n?” sam spoke up cutting the comfortable silence you two had while looking at the fire.
“yeah?” you answered.
“im really glad we’ve gotten close this past year.” he confessed.
you smiled, “i feel the same way…i definitely needed a friendship like this in my life. i don't have many close close friends like how you and i have become so close recently.”
his face held a sad smile. “im sorry about how your past relationship ended.”
“no reason to be sorry. id be sorry if i had still stayed but i know what i deserve and that's not it.” you smiled and tried to lift up the mood. “all this sad talk is gonna kill the mood!”
you jumped up and held out ur arm. “come on!”
he took your hand and smiled. you were about to let go when he held onto your hand and pulled you close to him connecting your lips in a passionate kiss.
the kiss took you by surprise so it took you a few seconds before you reciprocated the kiss.
he pushed forward getting impossibly closer to you holding on to your hips to steady you so you didn't fall from the force he out on you.
you had no choice but to hold onto the back of his neck to steady yourself as well.
a few more seconds of smooches before you both pulled away to get some air.
breathless, you had no idea what to say. you were speechless.
“ive been wanting to do that for the longest time.” sam said hands still on your hips.
“glad you finally did.” you said without thinking.
sam laughed and sighed in relief.
“sorry, i just meant..i just..i like …” you stuttered. your cheeks turning red. “fuck you know what never mind.” you hid your face in his shoulder.
“i like you y/n. i really like you.” he told you. his words bringing butterflies to your stomach.
you lifted your head up to meet his eyes. “that's what i was trying to say…” you said quietly.
“well i found your stuttering very cute.” he moved some of your hair from your shoulder.
“im glad you don't find it dumb and embarrassing.” you sheepishly say.
“i could never find you dumb or embarrassing.” he scrunches his nose up cutely. “maybe a little silly sometimes.”
“gee thanks.” you roll your eyes playfully.
“mmm and sassy. but it's okay i can handle your attitude.” he pulls you by your waist closer. “can i kiss you one more time?”
“now that you find me sassy no no.” you playfully decline.
“mhmm…okay.” he pulls you in for a kiss and you let him.
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Note
Hello!!! I have a request if that’s okay with you. 💕
Would you maybe write a Spencer x quiet!reader? Where she doesn’t have the courage to talk to him because she’s too shy?
I don’t really have a plot in mind so that’s up to you!! I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with any ideas but hopefully it lets you write whatever you want. Thank you for taking the time to read this. And I read your other stories, you’re so underrated and amazing I love your wording when you write. 🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻
Hi Mary!! Thank you so much for your kind words c:
I did my best c: I hope you like it!
Round Table (Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader)
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader (if not gn please let me know, but I'm fairly certain it is!)
Word Count: 1538
Warnings: mentions of anxiety, but besides that none?
A/N: this was so fun c: i am really enjoying challenging myself with your guys' requests. hope you enjoy!!
------
You were an incredibly anxious person, which, honestly, was okay. You tried not to let your anxiety hinder your life too much, but like any other human being, sometimes it got in the way. It was frustrating, sure, knowing that a situation would be so much easier if you weren’t so anxious about it, but you reminded yourself often that you weren’t perfect, and neither was anyone else. 
Some people were afraid of heights, of the ocean, of needles. Some people had trouble going out into crowds or grew overstimulated in public places. 
You? You were painfully shy. There was always an adjustment period to being around new people.
Baristas, the bus driver, pharmacy techs, cashiers at the grocery store - you did just fine. But those were one-time interactions, brief discussions that you could compartmentalize. 
They came with a script to follow, with cue cards already queued up in your head as they occurred. You could put on an emotional mask for five minutes while the nurse at the clinic gave you a flu shot. You could smile and speak in your special voice labeled Getting Coffee, an octave higher than you usually spoke, in order to acquire your much-needed beverage. There was a clear goal in mind with each of these dialogues. Sure, you didn’t present as the most confident person in the world, but you always made it through conversations like these without stumbling over your words or being too terribly awkward.  
You didn’t succeed as much with deeper connections, with ones that took time to cultivate. You were a guarded person to begin with, with only a handful of people you felt truly close to. Vulnerability had always been difficult for you, but you supposed you were in the majority on that front. It took a while to become comfortable around coworkers, extended family, hell, even your therapist. You had to have time to adjust, to settle in. 
A lot of people in your life thought you were just socially awkward or even an agoraphobe, but you didn’t mind being around people. It was the intimacy, the connection, the having to give away little pieces of yourself, that made you anxious. It kept you from participating in conversations most of the time, usually only speaking unless spoken to. 
You liked your job as a linguistics and handwriting analyst in the FBI for that very reason. You didn’t have to say much  to people unless it was related to a case. With a clear goal in mind, a threat to neutralize, you could turn on that mechanical part of your brain that spouted off facts, information, theories. You didn’t have to tell anyone about your weekend, about your hopes and dreams or your favorite foods. 
You were consulting on a case for the Behavioral Analysis Unit - a serial killer who stalked his victims months before their murders, sending handwritten letters and using poetry to taunt them. Your supervisor had asked you to collaborate with the BAU, sending you to the sixth floor on your own. 
For the last two days, you’d been working closely with Dr. Spencer Reid - Spencer, he insisted you call him. Just a couple of years older than you, but still very young for his role in the FBI. He was friendly,  and very smart, and he rambled on about all kinds of things - 
Everything, actually. The Chinese food you’d had for lunch on the first day? He explained the origin of fortune cookies. Did you know their first appearance in the US was in San Francisco in the late 1800s? 
Pointing out a Dickinson line in one of the UnSub’s letters? Did you know only ten of Emily Dickinson’s poems were actually published when she was alive and the rest were posthumous? 
You often just nodded along and smiled, occasionally throwing in an oh, that’s very interesting to appear as an active listener. And you were an active listener. You did genuinely think he was interesting, and you found his info dumps to be incredibly endearing. But your contributions to the conversation were abysmal in comparison.
Beyond discussing patterns in the UnSub’s letters and what it might mean for each victim, you had no other fascinating information to share. You didn’t do well with small talk, and Spencer didn’t ask you any overtly personal questions. 
It wasn’t until close to the end of the second day spent in the conference room of the BAU’s office that Spencer asked you a direct question about yourself. 
There were three evidence boards set up, all full of scanned copies of the letters, each one pinned up meticulously by you and Spencer the day before. The large round table in the room had letters stacked out all around it, each one bagged in protective plastic. 
Spencer was standing in front of the evidence boards with his arms crossed over his chest, studying the photocopies with his head inclined to the side. 
He broke the silence you had been slowly settling into the past two days. “Your supervisor said you had a specialization in poetry?” 
You nodded, stepping over to the table and carefully lifting one of the letters up. You liked how he spoke as if you two were in the middle of a conversation, when in fact, it had been totally silent for the past half an hour, save for the soft puttering of the air conditioning vent.
“Studied a lot in undergrad,” you squeaked out, clearing your throat as you held the letter up the fluorescent light above you to examine the stationary. 
“What university did you attend?” Spencer asked, and you turned your head to find him inclining his head to the side. He actually wanted to know? 
“I went to Bennington College to study poetry,” you said softly, suddenly finding it difficult to focus on the letter in your hand. “But I went to graduate school at Georgetown. Master’s in Linguistics.” 
“Really? That’s fascinating,” Spencer commented, which caught you by surprise, especially because he didn’t sound the least bit sarcastic. “That combination of degrees is exceedingly rare. Generally people who major in poetry often either go on to complete as far up as a doctorate in the subject or  they stop at a Bachelor’s degree. The latter statistically don’t end up working in a field related to poetry, either, so their degree is basically useless.” 
You weren’t sure if you were supposed to be offended by that, so instead you just nodded your head politely. “Okay,” you murmured, biting your lip. 
“Can I ask you another question?” Spencer asked, and set the letter in your hand down on the table. You smoothed your hands over the fabric of your shirt and nodded. “Do I… do I make you uncomfortable?” 
You shook your head. “No,” you said assuredly, and then, a little more hesitantly, “…why would you ask me that?” 
Spencer turned to face you. “You’re just very quiet unless we’re discussing the case. Which is fine, of course, but I just… I don’t know. I thought maybe you were annoyed by me or I said something to offend you.” 
You felt guilt spread over you and your cheeks turned pink. The last thing you’d wanted was to make anyone feel bad who didn’t deserve it. And the very kind, helpful, and adorable Dr. Spencer Reid was the furthest from deserving to feel bad. 
 “I just don’t talk a lot,” you tried to explain. Your hand rubbed the spot where the top of your chest met the skin of your neck, an anxious habit you’d had for years. “I mean, I do with people I know, and that’s not to say I dominate the conversation by any means, but I just…” you realized you were rambling. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” you added, your voice just above a whisper. 
“Thank you,” Spencer’s lips flickered into a straight-lined smile, one you had seen several times over the past few days, often when unintentional eye contact was made across the table. “For clarifying, I mean, that I didn’t offend you.” He cleared his throat, and leaned against the round table, standing just a few feet from you. Still a very professional and comfortable distance, but closer than he had been before. “So, does that mean that if we got to know each other, you’d talk more?” The corners of his lips spread out and his smile grew. 
You tore your eyes away from his to look at the letter in your hand, the protective plastic around it crinkling between your fingers. You weren’t actually looking at the letter, though. You’d just needed somewhere - anywhere - else to look. “That’s generally how it goes,” you murmured, biting your lip. 
“So, if I were to, for example, ask you to meet me for dinner sometime, could the getting to know each other happen there?” 
Your eyes fluttered over to Spencer’s and you saw him smiling. You could tell by how he looked at you, with his head inclined just slightly to the side, that he was being fully serious. You nodded, unable to control the small smile on your face. 
Spencer grinned, and you could tell he couldn’t resist when he spoke again. “So, is that a yes?” 
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braisedhoney · 10 months
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y'know i always say i tend to like villains (or at least antagonists??) more than the protagonist, but what i don't know is like. Why.
did i have one specific childhood villain that just formed my taste in characters for the rest of time??? if so wtf was it? i need to unravel my own lore it's driving me up the wall.
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yuridovewing · 2 months
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sorry to post a negative wof thing but sometimes i remember the “morrowseer is moonwatcher’s dad but no one knows or cares, its just this quirky trivia thing” bit and get irrationally frustrated. like if you didnt have any ideas on what to do with that tui then you couldve just. not done it.
#it literally makes no sense why she shouldnt know beyond ‘’some stray thoughts her mom accidentally let out’’ either#like ok iirc secretkeeper was barring her own mind from her. however she did that#but youre telling me that No One Else ever thought about morrowseer and his crimes#none of the nightwings none of the rainwings no one ever thinks about the queens right hand man#who orchestrated crimes against dragonkind and ruined so many lives or was a hero to some of them#no ones ever spared that guy a second thought?#or like- did no one know secretkeeper was morrowseers wife? did no one connect the dots that her secret baby was probably morrowseers secret#secret baby? its not like no one knew she was pregnant with his kid right???#NO ONE that ever looked at moon and directed hostile thoughts abt her that affected her self worth ever went ‘’oh shes morrowseers baby#of course SHE was spared our same trauma’’#NO ONE HAS THOUGHT ABOUT HIS CRIMES???? NOT A SINGLE ONE???#wouldnt this contribute to her mistreatment and anxiety since he used his supposed power to hurt and manipulate people??#but…. no tee hee its this silly little bit of trivia we wont delve into#like. again…. you didnt HAVE to make morrowseer her dad!!#like it comes across like tui came up with the idea of having the new protag be related to the previous antagonist and thought it was cool#but then didnt have any real ideas beyond that so she just made it this weird unspoken ironic fact?#like…. no i dont think its this ironic scene that she finds his literal corpse in the volcano and doesnt know its him#and doesnt seem that horrified by it#she should see that and feel incredibly complicated and disgusted feelings
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iwoulddieforienzo · 3 months
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Something that makes reading TOA so devastating is how fucking much Apollo feels about Everything. There’s so MUCH. Like I don’t even know how to describe it to you if you haven’t read the books yourself. He has so many complicated thoughts and emotions about just about everything and he cares about everything so much and there is just SO MUCH going on in his head. And yet none of it ever reaches his mouth!!
He almost never says what he’s feeling. What little comes out of his mouth about his thoughts barely even scratches the surface of what he actually means. Like he’ll be having a long ass monologue about how incredible someone is, showing a deep understanding of them as a person and empathizing with them so hard you’d almost think it’s projection but it’s not he’s legitimately just mind melding with this random person he met like a week ago and he’s thinking the softest, kindest thoughts about them like he knows they’re fucking incredible - and what comes out of his mouth is just like, “you’re a wonderful friend :)” AND ITS LIKE. THERES SO MUCH MORE UNDER THE SURFACE. the sheer admiration and adoration he has for everyone around him……… UGHHH!!! But he never VOICES ANY OF IT!!!!!! He never tells anyone about what Zeus did to him……. He never tells anyone except the reader about his realization that Zeus is abusive…. He never even tells commodus about how much he adored him, not then and not now… he refuses to tell anyone when he’s in pain or tries to justify the things he does when he actually had Decent Reasons for why he did something… I’m. I’M. AUGH. AHHHHH
HE DOESN’T EVEN TELL US ALL OF HIS THOUGHTS IS THE THING. THERES EVEN MORE THAT HE IS NOT TELLING US!!!!! THE FUCKING OCEAN OF FEELINGS AND THOUGHTS HE HAS ABOUT EVERYTHING IS THE CLIFF NOTES VERSION. I AM IN DISTRESS.
And YET…. Even what slips out of his mouth is so fucking devastating it is SO devastating. He’s so fucking kind and gentle with Harley and Meg and and other younger Demis and his kids… he’ll act like an obstinate idiot and then turn around say something that drags the core of the person he’s talking to into the light like nail on the fucking HEAD like he reached into their soul and gave them the words to express something that they were struggling to say aloud or that they didn’t even realize about themself. Around the 2nd book he starts putting voice to some of his feelings and thoughts about others and even that tiny fucking sliver is overwhelming to the people he’s talking to bc he’s SO. AUGHHHH
#this is why ‘reading the TOA books’ fics fucking slap btw. because as embarrassing as his thoughts can be#so many of them are just incoherent screaming about how he loves everyone around him. devastating#like imagine helping out ur loser deadbeat dad who you don’t really know much about bc he’s flighty and hard to read#and finding out ‘wow he cares about us a lot more than I thought’#bc he literally almost dies to save you/your siblings and keeps following you all around everywhere#but he’s still like. your weirdo absentee dad. u don’t know hardly anything new about him other than an apparent suicidal streak#and then u find out that the whole time he was whining about chicken nuggets or whatever he was internally sobbing abt how much he loves u#and every time u were nearby he was going ‘MY BEAUTIFUL PERFECT BABY… JUST AS INCREDIBLE AS THEIR MORTAL PARENT!!!! BEAUTIFUL LIKE THE SUN!#HOW DID I EVEN MAKE SUCH A BEAUTIFUL PERFECT BABY. UNREAL. THEY CANT BE MINE!? BUT THEY ARE!!! LOOK AT THEMMM!!?!!! IM SO PROUD……#my beautiful perfect angels… all of their parents best traits and none of our worst…. I am Barely restraining myself from sobbing#i would give u the WORLD if my father wouldn’t kill me for it :(‘#and it’s like. wow. okay dad. um. would have been nice to know that when we were all dying in The War#Please Hug Me Though.#imagine being a Random Ass Demigod who didn’t go on a big special quest or something like you are literally just Some Guy#and finding out that this weirdo loser god u gave a sandwhich to or something thinks you are so fucking cool#your own parent doesn’t know ur name but Apollo knows u on sight and read ur soul within the 2 seconds yall talked and he thinks you rock#how are you supposed to respond to that.#snack time#toa#longpost
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legofemme · 2 months
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Vani writing tips + personal thoughts that noone asked for but you will be hearing
1: longer is Not always better. If youre telling a story, then your audience doesnt need 3 pages worth of side material. If youre writing to genuinely draw in an audience and tell a story then you need to not treat it like a game where the goal is to get the highest wordcount possible. You should be treating yourself And your audience with respect and making sure the words you use make an impact rather than trying to fill empty space. Brevity is your friend
2: if you need to make a clarification that your work doesnt endorse what your protagonist is doing, or needs to clarify that the protagonist is a Bad Person, then youre not mature enough to be writing that material. At best it shows that you dont understand the nuances of writing villain protagonists, and at worst it looks like you think your audience is too stupid to understand that saying slurs is a bad thing.
3: you cannot attempt to break the rules of writing if you dont understand them in the first place. You arent douglas adams. You arent Mark Danielewski. You need to stop and learn how to use a semicolon and a hyphen and how different words help describe things before you try to make a thousand word 'stray from traditional storytelling' . At the very least learn the basics from a youtube video
4: YOU NEED TO LEARN HOW TO WRITE DIALOGUE EVEN IF ITS BAD. You cannot dodge around dialogue by just having back and forth phrases in quotation marks. And no marker you use to differentiate speakers is going to be anywhere close to just using "he said" or even "he yelled". Youre robbing yourself of crucial storytelling materials. Even if you dont want to learn every part of how to write you Need to learn how to do dialogue or your entire story is going to crumble
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cak31ssuperi04 · 1 year
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Do you have any general hcs of the 1bit/1beat cast? Anythings fine
Kind of rough but
-I've played around with the idea with Eruno being from an orphanage/foster home(the "because you've got a proper family" bit) but I go back and forth on this one.
-Nio and Sakuma are friends! He does shifts at Bitwave they hang out there. The poor boy needs someone to fend off the fangirls.
-Eruno and Akitaka accompany Haruya on deliveries sometimes. Pals.
-When Aira's mimetic muscles get installed she doesn't really quite get how to use them immediately. Her expressions start out real stiff(which she expresses dissatisfaction with, and gets help from the others) to real exaggerated and overplayed(think unbridled rage or pained anguish at things that just kind of annoy her).
-Also she has Kiri make her taller so she can grow alongside her friends!
-Also Also by 1beat she has at LEAST one sibling who's just, a really muscled out doll in frilly clothes.
-Meru listens to death metal. She'd hoped it'd help her stay up better but now she just kind of likes it.
-Outside of tending to the shrine, Hakuhi has embroidery as a hobby.
-Izuchi took piano lessons when he was younger(parents made him do it to try and play up the prodigy genius image). He quit.
-That potion thing he made in 1beat was ripped from Kirai's anime but in part he'd made it after Eruno came to him Demanding a way to make her dog live longer.
-He went to Blue sun college(less because he thought he needed to and more for the benefits a degree there would give him) and got into an apprenticeship with Kiri. He keeps the lab when Kiri moves to Coco Alley(easier to skirt by the law). Familiar with the Blue Sun Trio to some extent.
-He has a sweet tooth but doesn't really admit it because he deems it unhealthy.
-While he did have a hand in the creation of the master program, he doesn't stay on the team after it's finished. Does continue to get occasional updates about it from Hiyu and Nanase though.
-His room is all clean and organized on the surface(maybe a few seashell displays, a poster covering a hole in the wall) but he keeps all the goofy weird shit stored away in drawers and under his bed.*
-I've played around with the idea of there being a 3rd Nasuga sibling who's just too young to be relevant in the game(<-no canon basis i just thought it'd be fun) but I'm not sure if I'd keep that.
-Enri has a pet hamster! He's like the band's son.
-The gang Kirara used to be a part of was like a sparkly gyaru girl gang. She never really enjoyed fighting but took a lot of lessons growing up so she was really good at it. The gang is still going strong though and at least a few of her Gyaru Friends are members(and there's at least one member who's just a plain normal ass girl that hangs around them but that's getting into oc territory).
-Rocca ends up growing up to be like Really Fucking Tall. Momori models clothes on her and remarks that she could be a model if she didn't trip over herself so much(not that she'd want to be one anyways).
-Mary has 3 siblings, they've done a way better job at staying out of the public eye(and have grown somewhat distant from her as a result).
-On account of being friends with a lot of the townspeople and having a lot of relatives, Hitohito is just one of those guys with a lot of connections. In a "guy who knows a guy" way.
-Chino is Coco Alley's mom jkasdsa.
--She brings Sora(was familiar with his family and doesn't want him to get too lonely) cookies and flowers sometimes and while he's dismissive about it he does secretly appreciate it.
-Tobari is the heiress to a big tea emporium who dipped because she got bored and/or got into a disagreement with someone over there, but continues playing up her Elegant Fancy Lady image despite living paycheck to paycheck(which I mean, good for her I guess.)
-Although Sagara knows Asuto through Hitohito, they actually interact fairly regularly in anime forums.
-Hitohito, Izuchi, and Sagara were on friendly terms when they were kids but grew distant for reasons. Hitohito and Sagara had gotten back in touch and still hang out. Heat reached out to Izuchi but was promptly brushed off, still looks out for him. Izuchi and Sagara have a weird frenemy/rival thing going on.
-Sagara has no siblings she just kind of lives alone with her mom who may or may not hate her.(although it's less "hate" so much as disappointment)
-Sagara's chicken avatar is modeled after one of her childhood pets.
-Sagara definitely Naruto runs.
-She holds DnD(\Dnd adjacent. Just some ttrpg I'm not an expert) sessions at every couple of weeks. I'm not saying Izuchi willingly participates(those commoners are hopeless without his guidance), just that she didn't exactly have very many other people to invite(Hitohito and sometimes Meu and eventually Nanashi).
-She has a knack for trying to help townspeople as part of some sort of Magical Girl Code but isn't as good at it as she thinks she is.
-She has a compartment in her arm warmers that's full of bird feed, she's made an alliance with the pigeons.
-While she does cool it with the Organization stuff, she never drops the chuuni behavior. Eventually opens a small cake shop with some edgy chuuni-esque title(debated on whether it should be in the same place Little Berry was, like after little berry closes its doors).
-Nomiya and Hiyu butt heads a lot but they both get along fine with Azusa. Somebody needs to be nice to her god damn it.
-The Kujohs have a pet dog but it's actually Azusa's. Following with the rest of the family, it's a big intimidating dog that's actually just really chill. Enri has tried to look past it but he's always very leery about visiting them.
-Nomiya's riding an adrenaline high throughout most of the game but his more calm demeanor in his events is just him going in the opposite extreme as a result of coming down from it. He's usually fairly loud and confrontational, just not THAT loud and confrontational.
-He keeps in closest touch with Tobari after the hackers are disbanded. Somewhat on account of her being able to hold her own in Break Passage the best out of the other three. She views him as a weird little brother.
-The hackers hold gatherings in memory(or what little of that memory they even retained. It's mostly secondhand from Nanashi) of Mikado where they commit minor crimes. The gathering was Kotora's idea the crime was Nomiya's.
-Sagara has a journal that she calls the Abyss Tome that's just full of fanfiction and anime drawings of herself and her friends(/enemies). Has a bunch of spell names listed down in it.
-Saaya and Meu are friends! Saaya comes to her for divinations about her love life a lot and just ends up venting. Meu's happy to listen though and tries to comfort her the best she can.
-Speaking of therapy though, Saaya does get therapy sometime post-canon and distances herself from Nanase(while a lot of Nanashi's friendships that start off on the wrong foot have room for growth, the memory thing makes things kind of... weird with her). She's in a much better state by 1beat.
-Saaya writes a lot of poetry.
-Yoh and Sagara are related. Somehow(I did consider nephew at one point but that didn't really pan out).
-So are Hiyu and Arumu. They've got that green hair and funky eyebrows.
-Akuta and Kaori date briefly(well, she's a fan of his work, and he is rich, and while he can't speak multiple languages he is well-spoken, what could go wrong?) which just ends in them breaking up over a disagreement over a book's ending. That was more the final straw though, actually getting to know him put into perspective just how far from her expectations he actually is and she's not super pleased about it. They do stay friends but something something important lesson about your idols being people.
-I feel like I've said somewhere that Kotora leaves the cafe to Rocca when he retires but I need to clarify that Kotora keeps being the cafe guy well into old age and that Rocca would be a whole adult by then.
-Kaori was the youngest of her siblings and only one to stay with her mother, she sees her dad as a good for nothing deadbeat(it wasn't an amicable divorce) and the ordeal heavily influenced how she views romantic relationships as a whole. Grew up somewhat distant from Kotora and their sister but reconnected in adulthood.
-Her "ideal guy" is just the best traits of her favorite book leads cobbled together like some kind of frankenguy. (And she might be internalizing something... who knows)
-The world did enter a more 'cyberpunk dystopia'-esque futuristic state a long time ago and the return to more traditional old timey ways is sort of in response to that, but Yasune is the only one who'd actually lived through it. Although then again the 2nd oldest character in the game is only 36 so...
The post is starting to not process so I'm going to cut it off here.
#*The example I had listed on my hc file was 'life sized Danny Devito cardboard cutout' but I don't know if I want to keep that#The piano hc was more the remnant of a sweet beach band au I had because I was thinking about rainbow rocks again#Sweet beach is interestingly enough my go-to for aus. I've never even told you guys about the fantasy au#(they're just adventurers though it's nothing extravagant. It doesn't even cover all the characters)#Mary's parents were in the picture when she became an idol but her siblings were raised by their grandparents.#Tobari stays at hotels and spends most of her paycheck on fancy tea.#she's kind of ridiculous levels of Jack-Of-All-Trades but it helps that she's a fast learner#Chino wasn't incredibly close with Sora's parents(friends maybe) but that won't stop her from looking out for the boy. New son#Haruya was probably pals with his brother. Regardless of how he may have felt about Sora himself(scary)#Kirai probably made an offhanded comment about outgrowing everyone someday so he's really pissed when he ends up#shorter than both Haruya and Rocca#You probably were wanting more 1beat hcs but as much as I love the 1beat cast I've only replayed recently#so none of my thoughts about the cast are quite fully formed yet#Might make a follow up eventually though because the hc file is Long#Omitted most of the ones I've already talked about but since those are scattered about my tags and the server I probably#should've included some of those too. Feel free to ask for elaboration on anything#Some of them get kind of lengthy too and I left most of those out but I did leave a few in and just heavily handwaved the details#Some of the shorter ones were shortened too because the post just wouldn't process ashsaldhjka#pieceofcake.txt#cakeheadcanons
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the-acid-pear · 10 months
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Okay I'm home now and i can fully and freely type. Anyway mild spoilers for into the spiderverse i guess?
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Anyway uh. Yeah it... It was a tiny bit of a disappointment. It didn't do it for me at all. I feel like this movie is more of an art exhibit and i mean that as a fucking insult. Like sure the animation fucks my ears are ringing and my head aches horribly (that's on me for thinking i can be autistic and watch this on theaters) but like, the story man? It just so much (DEROGATORY).
It commits the sin a lot of spiderman movies make and that is that it bit more than it could chew. Not because they're bad at handling a complex story, but because they tried to juggle like 5 at once. And that never fucking works (my ear is still ringing and it hurts I'm in pain rn -_+ just wanted y'all to know)
Like it introduced SO FUCKING MUCH and it all was cool yeah! Just like electro was cool, and Harry, and Gwen, and captain Stacy. You know what in trying to fucking say? There's only so much you can do in 2 hours and you can just throw all you have all at once at the viewer because all you'll do is leave them disappointed wanting for more of that.
I feel like a baby. They show me this cool thing but nuh uh! Enough of that! Here's this new cool thing! But nuh uh! Enough of that- and so on. Like there were so many cool characters and ideas and concepts and shit but it could barely balance it all. YOU KNOW HOW BAD I WANTED TO SEE MORE OF THE SPOT?! HE BARELY WAS HERE!
It's like, you cannot fucking make a whole movie as the introduction to your next movie. That just sucks. You're setting yourself up for failure.
Like I'm just so upset bc it was full of amaizing things but it didn't fucking deliver in any of them!!!! And God don't get me started on the references. I think this was one of the worst ways to fill your movie with references. Like at least let me fucking process what I'm seeing if you are gonna waste so much time here, but also just... Don't make it so fucking blatant.
Like man i... This was a very experimental spiderman movie which i appreciate in a way but... It's not what I was expecting. To me, personally, it was disappointing. And also not designed at ALL to watch on cinemas. I think that last bit is just a fact.
I'm just kinda sad man. Like i loved Miles and Gwen's drama and i loved Miguel but I also wanted to see more of, you know, THE WHOLE FUCKING NEW CAST AND THE NEW FUCKING VILLAIN THEY INTRODUCED BUT SHOWED ONLY FOR LIKE 2-3 SEGMENTS MAX???????
LIKE HANDS ON HEAD EMOJI WHAT WERE THEY DOINGGGGG 😭😭😭😭
#luly talks#im sorry to the people who loved this movie i am so upset#on funnier news i found the spot is called la mancha in spanish which is funny bc mancha is what we call a common kids game#in fact i remember that the english name for that is tag we call that mancha#LA mancha#btw i did love Miles' mom having more of the spotlight it was like a little treat for us latinos fr#also. the amount of cop stuff was a bit too much. i wouldn't call it pro cop like some idiot i saw the other day but it. like. hm. y'know?#like this movie feels like an art project something you'd see the fans do and if they did you'd allow the imperfections#but it was made by an studio and there were expectatives in the table like it. it just doesn't stand on its own at all#I WANTED MORE OF PAV AND HOBBIE MAN. I FUCKING DID. HOBBIE ESP I HAVE A CRUSH ON EM#they/them too right? didnt really hear it well but I'm sure i heard em be called they#i will say tho i loved the pear shaped spiderwoman that was super cool#i did literally joke about being too fat to make a spidersona b4 watching the movie and sure she was a woman i aint but it was nice anyway#but yeah it just. it tried to chew more than it could bite. the spot was so cool tho#the spot and hobbie are my guys i love them#man I'm just sad i really am im repeating myself bc im too overwhelmed to retain thoughts so idk if im being clear but like#this movie had a LOT of good things but it delivered on nearly NONE of them#like just commit! you want this to be a story about Miles sure do that but just focus on him and that's it#dont throw in so much and leave us yearning for more bc now we have the old cast AND the new cast both and we barely saw any of these new#ppl interacting we barely fucking know them#anyway just SAD man
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keeps-ache · 1 year
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i've had tiny pieces of dialogue following me around for most of the year, little bits i'd think about sometimes and turn in my hands thinking 'okay. this has somethin goin on with it. i dunno what but like. it does'. and then today i was in the car and suddenly they all just clicked together and waow. woah
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