#I GOT REJECTED BY MCDONALDS. MCDONALDS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mostlysignssomeportents · 4 months

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“If buying isn’t owning, piracy isn’t stealing”

20 years ago, I got in a (friendly) public spat with Chris Anderson, who was then the editor in chief of Wired. I'd publicly noted my disappointment with glowing Wired reviews of DRM-encumbered digital devices, prompting Anderson to call me unrealistic for expecting the magazine to condemn gadgets for their DRM:

https://longtail.typepad.com/the_long_tail/2004/12/is_drm_evil.html

I replied in public, telling him that he'd misunderstood. This wasn't an issue of ideological purity – it was about good reviewing practice. Wired was telling readers to buy a product because it had features x, y and z, but at any time in the future, without warning, without recourse, the vendor could switch off any of those features:

https://memex.craphound.com/2004/12/29/cory-responds-to-wired-editor-on-drm/

I proposed that all Wired endorsements for DRM-encumbered products should come with this disclaimer:

WARNING: THIS DEVICE’S FEATURES ARE SUBJECT TO REVOCATION WITHOUT NOTICE, ACCORDING TO TERMS SET OUT IN SECRET NEGOTIATIONS. YOUR INVESTMENT IS CONTINGENT ON THE GOODWILL OF THE WORLD’S MOST PARANOID, TECHNOPHOBIC ENTERTAINMENT EXECS. THIS DEVICE AND DEVICES LIKE IT ARE TYPICALLY USED TO CHARGE YOU FOR THINGS YOU USED TO GET FOR FREE — BE SURE TO FACTOR IN THE PRICE OF BUYING ALL YOUR MEDIA OVER AND OVER AGAIN. AT NO TIME IN HISTORY HAS ANY ENTERTAINMENT COMPANY GOTTEN A SWEET DEAL LIKE THIS FROM THE ELECTRONICS PEOPLE, BUT THIS TIME THEY’RE GETTING A TOTAL WALK. HERE, PUT THIS IN YOUR MOUTH, IT’LL MUFFLE YOUR WHIMPERS.

Wired didn't take me up on this suggestion.

But I was right. The ability to change features, prices, and availability of things you've already paid for is a powerful temptation to corporations. Inkjet printers were always a sleazy business, but once these printers got directly connected to the internet, companies like HP started pushing out "security updates" that modified your printer to make it reject the third-party ink you'd paid for:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/11/ink-stained-wretches-battle-soul-digital-freedom-taking-place-inside-your-printer

Now, this scam wouldn't work if you could just put things back the way they were before the "update," which is where the DRM comes in. A thicket of IP laws make reverse-engineering DRM-encumbered products into a felony. Combine always-on network access with indiscriminate criminalization of user modification, and the enshittification will follow, as surely as night follows day.

This is the root of all the right to repair shenanigans. Sure, companies withhold access to diagnostic codes and parts, but codes can be extracted and parts can be cloned. The real teeth in blocking repair comes from the law, not the tech. The company that makes McDonald's wildly unreliable McFlurry machines makes a fortune charging franchisees to fix these eternally broken appliances. When a third party threatened this racket by reverse-engineering the DRM that blocked independent repair, they got buried in legal threats:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/20/euthanize-rentier-enablers/#cold-war

Everybody loves this racket. In Poland, a team of security researchers at the OhMyHack conference just presented their teardown of the anti-repair features in NEWAG Impuls locomotives. NEWAG boobytrapped their trains to try and detect if they've been independently serviced, and to respond to any unauthorized repairs by bricking themselves:

https://mamot.fr/@[email protected]/111528162905209453

Poland is part of the EU, meaning that they are required to uphold the provisions of the 2001 EU Copyright Directive, including Article 6, which bans this kind of reverse-engineering. The researchers are planning to present their work again at the Chaos Communications Congress in Hamburg this month – Germany is also a party to the EUCD. The threat to researchers from presenting this work is real – but so is the threat to conferences that host them:

https://www.cnet.com/tech/services-and-software/researchers-face-legal-threats-over-sdmi-hack/

20 years ago, Chris Anderson told me that it was unrealistic to expect tech companies to refuse demands for DRM from the entertainment companies whose media they hoped to play. My argument – then and now – was that any tech company that sells you a gadget that can have its features revoked is defrauding you. You're paying for x, y and z – and if they are contractually required to remove x and y on demand, they are selling you something that you can't rely on, without making that clear to you.

But it's worse than that. When a tech company designs a device for remote, irreversible, nonconsensual downgrades, they invite both external and internal parties to demand those downgrades. Like Pavel Chekov says, a phaser on the bridge in Act I is going to go off by Act III. Selling a product that can be remotely, irreversibly, nonconsensually downgraded inevitably results in the worst person at the product-planning meeting proposing to do so. The fact that there are no penalties for doing so makes it impossible for the better people in that meeting to win the ensuing argument, leading to the moral injury of seeing a product you care about reduced to a pile of shit:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/25/moral-injury/#enshittification

But even if everyone at that table is a swell egg who wouldn't dream of enshittifying the product, the existence of a remote, irreversible, nonconsensual downgrade feature makes the product vulnerable to external actors who will demand that it be used. Back in 2022, Adobe informed its customers that it had lost its deal to include Pantone colors in Photoshop, Illustrator and other "software as a service" packages. As a result, users would now have to start paying a monthly fee to see their own, completed images. Fail to pay the fee and all the Pantone-coded pixels in your artwork would just show up as black:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/28/fade-to-black/#trust-the-process

Adobe blamed this on Pantone, and there was lots of speculation about what had happened. Had Pantone jacked up its price to Adobe, so Adobe passed the price on to its users in the hopes of embarrassing Pantone? Who knows? Who can know? That's the point: you invested in Photoshop, you spent money and time creating images with it, but you have no way to know whether or how you'll be able to access those images in the future. Those terms can change at any time, and if you don't like it, you can go fuck yourself.

These companies are all run by CEOs who got their MBAs at Darth Vader University, where the first lesson is "I have altered the deal, pray I don't alter it further." Adobe chose to design its software so it would be vulnerable to this kind of demand, and then its customers paid for that choice. Sure, Pantone are dicks, but this is Adobe's fault. They stuck a KICK ME sign to your back, and Pantone obliged.

This keeps happening and it's gonna keep happening. Last week, Playstation owners who'd bought (or "bought") Warner TV shows got messages telling them that Warner had walked away from its deal to sell videos through the Playstation store, and so all the videos they'd paid for were going to be deleted forever. They wouldn't even get refunds (to be clear, refunds would also be bullshit – when I was a bookseller, I didn't get to break into your house and steal the books I'd sold you, not even if I left some cash on your kitchen table).

Sure, Warner is an unbelievably shitty company run by the single most guillotineable executive in all of Southern California, the loathsome David Zaslav, who oversaw the merger of Warner with Discovery. Zaslav is the creep who figured out that he could make more money cancelling completed movies and TV shows and taking a tax writeoff than he stood to make by releasing them:

https://aftermath.site/there-is-no-piracy-without-ownership

Imagine putting years of your life into making a program – showing up on set at 5AM and leaving your kids to get their own breakfast, performing stunts that could maim or kill you, working 16-hour days during the acute phase of the covid pandemic and driving home in the night, only to have this absolute turd of a man delete the program before anyone could see it, forever, to get a minor tax advantage. Talk about moral injury!

But without Sony's complicity in designing a remote, irreversible, nonconsensual downgrade feature into the Playstation, Zaslav's war on art and creative workers would be limited to material that hadn't been released yet. Thanks to Sony's awful choices, David Zaslav can break into your house, steal your movies – and he doesn't even have to leave a twenty on your kitchen table.

The point here – the point I made 20 years ago to Chris Anderson – is that this is the foreseeable, inevitable result of designing devices for remote, irreversible, nonconsensual downgrades. Anyone who was paying attention should have figured that out in the GW Bush administration. Anyone who does this today? Absolute flaming garbage.

Sure, Zaslav deserves to be staked out over an anthill and slathered in high-fructose corn syrup. But save the next anthill for the Sony exec who shipped a product that would let Zaslav come into your home and rob you. That piece of shit knew what they were doing and they did it anyway. Fuck them. Sideways. With a brick.

Meanwhile, the studios keep making the case for stealing movies rather than paying for them. As Tyler James Hill wrote: "If buying isn't owning, piracy isn't stealing":

https://bsky.app/profile/tylerjameshill.bsky.social/post/3kflw2lvam42n

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/08/playstationed/#tyler-james-hill

Image: Alan Levine (modified) https://pxhere.com/en/photo/218986

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

#pluralistic #playstation #sony #copyright #copyfight #drm #monopoly #enshittification #batgirl #road runner #financiazation #the end of ownership #ip

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nemxricultrix · 10 months

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(some fucking dumplings and rice would be nice rn.

Even if I'm broke and still anxiously awaiting phone calls for interviews that will likely never net me employment.

Did I mention that I apologized to my managers' faces on hopes I'd get hired back? Cuz that ate up my brain goo.)

#Ooc #I have a Kofi of anyone wants to throw a dollar or two at me.#'buy me some dumplings ' or whatever #I'm fine I got plenty of food at home I just have cravings and I'm seeking the comfort foods.#.... Maybe that's why I frequented the McDonald's and the Chinese buffet in my town #But yeah I'm shaking like a Chihuahua in a blizzard over applications possibly getting rejected and shredded.

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camptw1nk · 11 months

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do not look at me

#got rejected from a mcdonald’s job icb this #it was apparently bc of my availability and they directed me to apply for a different location but im still 🧍‍♂️#i have applied for so many part time jobs the past few weeks someone pls just bring me in and pay me for something

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ihophashbrowns · 1 year

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okay. im about to cry

#ive gotten rejected/ignored by all the jobs ive applied to so far #i feel discouraged #and its all for the same reason: my age #like on the site taco bell said they hire minors but when i got in she said they were looking for ppl to close #and i cant close bcuz im a minor :/ and then said that my number will be on file and call me with openings.#the same thing mcdonalds said. 2 months ago.#like im just so annoyed like if i do not get a job i will not have enough money by the time i graduate to study abroad #thats all i want and the universe keeps denying me opportunities even though im so willing to work for what i want #i immediately scheduled an interview with kfc but i have low hopes #like i hyped myself up from the moment i woke up. manifested. channeled positive energy. just to #get-rejected-but-not-really. like i try to laugh it off but theres really nothing more painful than constant rejection #🧁.txt

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sapphireclawe · 1 year

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Hey so you guys know the current job market right now?

So there's been a saying that you cannot fail being hired by McDonald's, or else you failed at life.

So if anyone has any experiences, especially in Canada, with applying for McDonald's jobs, mind sharing in reblogs and comments?

#mcdonalds #job hunt horrors #i'll go first #4 rejections so far #10 applications #6 never replied and 4 ghosted after the interview so...#commented on a short about this #comments are 99%#oh yeah I didn't need a resume they hired me as soon as I walked in #or dissing those who got rejected

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 5 days

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I'll Never Date A Fuckboy - LN

Dark fic - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS

Summary: Lando doesn't think it's a crime to enjoy a woman's company but when his friend refuses him for his reputation and believing she'll be thrown aside as a result. He proves he always gets want he wants.

PSA this is kind of fucked up ngl

Themes/warnings: Kidnapping, abuse of power, bad tempers, "training", friend!reader, slut-shaming(ish), voyeurism (somewhat dubcon), dom!Lando-ish vibes, restraints, a bit of a sweet ending (? as sweet as an ending as I could make for this fic?)

I may decide to do a small part 2, it would be much shorter but kind of a peak into what becomes of them

Y/n isn't sure how she ended up in Lando's apartment but their night out with friends has somehow led to here. Dwelling on why would be too much of a headache right now.

But when them sitting on the sofa eating McDonald's together turns into her finding herself in a very hot and heavy kiss she has so snap herself out of it and remember her self-respect is still intact. She hasn't drank that much.

"I should go." Y/n states grimacing just at the thought of how many other girls saliva is in her mouth.

She needs to brush her teeth and watch her mouth out with mouthwash now. Or even some strong alcohol might do the job.

"What? Why?" Lando frowns watching her stand up and literally trip and fall over the coffee table leg.

"Ow." Y/n winces to herself before she tries to get up again.

"Y/n, will you calm down? What's wrong?"

"I just...we are not going down that route. I'm not being another name on a list for your fans to condemn for being a slut-or-or a gold digger and I have enough self-respect that you have a solid group of women to rely on for sex."

"What are you'd talking about?" Lando frowns looking completely confused over the whole thing. She's just not making sense.

"You're a fuckboy, Lando! And I will never date, fuck, involve myself like that with a fuckboy. It's not your fault, it's not something you need to change but I'm not going to put myself through that." Y/n states moving to grab her stuff. "You're a great friend, I love you as a person. But in the same way that I love Max and P and all our other friends. That kiss...is a mistake and we both need to forget it happened. Ok?"

"Are you serious? You're rejecting and shaming me for being with other women before you?" Lando scoffs catching her wrist and while he's not holding her to a bruising degree. He's holding her tight enough that she's locked in his hold and unable to escape. "And how many men have got between your legs in your life?"

"Lando, let go of me." Y/n grunts trying to escape his grip despite knowing that he's too strong to attempt overpowering him. So instead she gets angry. "You've literally had your tongue in like 6 girls mouths tonight and I don't even want to think about the potential diseases on your hand from where you've touched them. So let go of me."

"Alright, but will you calm down before you leave? We're still friends, I don't-I don't want you leaving when you're clearly drunk and upset."

Now admittedly in a logical and rational way that makes the most sense, and while her drunk self wants to tell him to fuck himself because his previous comment hurt. She knows she's spoken more harshly towards him. So it's only fair that she just calm herself down before making one exit.

"Ok, but can you let go please?" Y/n mumbles proving that she is going to calm down.

Every time Lando touched another woman, especially when he was having sex with her, y/n is at the front of his mind.

Watching another woman leave his hotel room, he groans rubbing his hands over his face.

The thoughts of a solution were going against any right pointing moral compass and he wishes he hated himself for plotting to go through with it.

He figured it would take some smart strategy since things had been tense and awkward despite the agreement that they'd pretend the kiss and night never happened.

He decided to make her the only one invited to Monaco and while he knows his family and friends find it suspicious to not be invited. He knows they won't ask or question him about it, after all they know his invitation is a privilege to get. Not a right.

Seeing y/n enjoy her weekend and document it all is pretty fun. He almost feels a pinch of guilt knowing how it's going to end.

He's arranged it all and he's not going to let it go wrong.

After getting a good race result, he goes for media and debrief before grabbing y/n and pulling her to his apartment saying they need to change for the night out with other drivers.

Y/n could've never expected being cuffed to a radiator (does anywhere have radiators outside of England anymore idk, but for the sake of this fic we're saying he got at least one radiator and it's in his bedroom). She couldn't have imagined he'd gag her and when tears are blurring her vision, she is left at his mercy.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll be back." Lando smiles gently rubbing her cheek with his thumb before he leans forward feeling her flinch when he kisses her forehead. "I'm trusting you to behave while I'm gone, ok?"

Y/n whines behind the gag more tears appearing to flood her face.

"It'll be ok." Lando promises with another smile. "Don't move."

Now admittedly it's a risk, but this girl seems to be drunk enough to be level with Lando who used liquid courage to continue following through on at least this part of the plan. The only part that holds such significant risk.

Y/n's head snaps up only visible to Lando from where she's curled up in the corner of the room. Clearly having been obedient to his instructions.

"Fuck." Lando groans as lies back on the bed as the girl slides a condom on and climbs on top of him, beginning to bounce on him while y/n watches silently. Admittedly the darkness of the room and her position probably allows for a limited view, but neither Lando nor the girl are being quiet.

Now Lando doesn't want to finish so after managing to pull her girl off and give her head till she orgasms. He doesn't care to save feelings when he not so subtly helps her redress and shows her the door, tossing the condom off into the bin before he gets back to the bedroom, momentarily tucking himself into his shorts that he'd picked up while dressing the girl who he never bothered to learn the name of.

"Hey, love." Lando greets crouching in front of y/n while she takes heavy and unsteady breaths looking at him. "Oh come on, there's no need for tears...but you're going to finish the job ok?"

Y/n nods seemingly agreeing out of fear more than anything.

"Good girl. Now if you try to run, or scream or bite or do anything I don't think is ok. This is going to be a long and hard journey." Lando states before reaching around the back of her head and undoing the gag making her cough and heave a little.

After grabbing the keys to unlock her wrists from the cuffs he sighs placing her on the bed and wanting to test something as part of his theory.

"Did watching turn you on?" Lando questions making her close her thighs trying to block his hand from touching her to test his theory. "I thought you were going to behave."

"I-I'm sorry." Y/n chokes out, not fighting him as much as he's sure she wants to. But when his hand force her thighs apart again and he laughs lightly pressing a finger under her damp underwear. He clicks his tongue.

"For someone who doesn't want a fuckboy. You really seem to be lying." Lando states shaking his head before he moves up pulling her back down to the edge of the bed. "On you knees, I want to see how your mouth feels."

Y/n doesn't even stop herself from getting down on her knees as he sits on the bed, gathering her hair into a hand. The wet warmth of her tongue hits the top of his dick before the rest of her mouth follows. And while he lets her initially lead the pace, his patience somewhat spent. He begins bobbing her head faster and reaching a new depth that, on his side, is euphoric.

There's no option of being a quitter who spits when he groans holding her down as deep as he can force himself. Cum shooting down her throat and seemingly not stopping as he feels himself throbbing in her twitching and pulsing throat, forced to swallow everything before he manages to press even deeper for a couple seconds enjoying the moment and sensation before finally allowing her the air she's being blocked from.

Y/n hiccups between coughing and gasping for air while Lando feels what he knew he'd feel afterwards with y/n. The urge to comfort and love her.

"Come here, baby." Lando smiles making her practically crawl up.

Y/n is the exact type of person who needs comfort in times of distress even in times when the only person available to give her any comfort is the person who caused the distress.

"Let's get you changed into something more comfortable and then I think you and I both need to sleep." Lando states making her sniffle and nod.

"Ok." Y/n whispers though her voice sounds like he may have actually given a couple jabs at her vocal cords.

"Are you ok?" Lando questions knowing from his side this is more of a test while y/n is too caught up in herself to be thinking about Lando's ulterior motives in the question.

"I think so." Y/n mumbles before she swallows thickly. "Can I have some water?"

"Yeah, you just wait here." Lando nods gently hoisting her to the bed.

When morning comes around the shock has definitely worn off and y/n is not feeling as eager to find comfort in Lando.

"You kidnapped me and you used me!" Y/n hisses while Lando eats his breakfast of overnight oats. "I'm not worth this, Lando. You-you can choose so many girls. SO MANY and not abduct them and hold them hostage."

"I think I've made it obvious I don't want those other girls." Lando frowns before watching her yank at the roots of her hair in frustration.

"You can't do this, Lando...if we were ever friends you'd not be doing this." Y/n stresses swallowing thickly before she hiccups feeling her emotions get the better of her. "Lando please."

Lando sighs placing down the little jar before he moves over and cups her face, earning a flinch from her but she's trapped in his hold.

"I don't want to have to leave you here...don't make me do that, y/n." Lando sighs while she watches him with sad eyes. "I can be so good to you, the best man you've ever had in your life."

"What do you mean you're going to leave me here?" Y/n mumbles making him refrain from rolling his eyes.

"I have to go over to Canada in a couple days, where you'll be in the hotel and stay in the hotel." Lando states earning a thick swallow.

Lando decided cuffing her ankles was a better and likely safer option to keep her in the room. Long enough for her to get to the en suite but since it's a suit she can't get all the way to the door. Though there's a do not disturb sign to make sure housekeeping don't find her either.

She's killed her time just flicking through Netflix, not bothering with an attempt at escape. It's unlikely going to get her far. She's in Canada for fuck sake with no phone, no money, no ID and if she told people that he'd kidnapped her, he could probably find a way to pay them.

"Hello, gorgeous." Lando smiles and to y/n's surprise she smiles for a split second before forcing it to drop. "What? Have you not had a good day?"

"Would've been good if I could leave the room." Y/n mumbles earning a sigh from the F1 driver. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."

"It's alright, but I have to be able to trust that you're not just going to leave." Lando smiles sadly before he gently rubs her back as he sits down. "I love you."

Y/n doesn't reply, not being able to say anything before she huffs and keeps her mouth shut.

"Did you watch qualifying?" Lando asks making her look at him for a moment before she nods.

"Front row is pretty good." Y/n mumbles then throwing her leg up onto the bed. "Can you unlock it so I can go in the bath?"

"Can I join you?" Lando smirks gently playing with the restraint.

"Yes." Y/n mutters earning a hum. "You know I don't hate you."

"Good. I don't want you to hate me." Lando smiles rubbing her leg, quite enjoying the sight of her in crop top and a pair of his boxers as her choice of outfit for the day.

He sighs pulling the key from his pocket to giving her the freedom, leaning back a little to watch as she gets up and jogs to the bathroom.

She returns leaving the water to run for a bit since the bath is pretty huge and it doesn't need to be watched just to fill for the most part.

"Can I ask something...and don't get mad?"

"Go on..."

"Do you really not want anyone else?" Y/n mumbles making him look at her for a split second before he laughs a little.

"You think I'd go to this length if I wanted anyone else? I don't."

"But why do you want me." Y/n almost whispers then jumping a little as he pulls her forward towards himself.

"I want you because when we kissed. It was the best fucking kiss of my life and when I wake up next to you, the first thing I want is to get inside of you. God I always want to be inside you." Lando groans just at the thought.

It shouldn't feel as flattering as it does.

"Do you really mean it when you say you love me?"

"Stop." Lando instructs suddenly making her frown. "We're moving at a pace that isn't going to rush you into doing stuff you'll have doubts about. I've thrown you in the deep end but from here we're easing you into everything else slowly."

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 6 months

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The Princess & The Playboy (Part 1)

Summary: After one of the reader's last concerts of the year, she unexpectedly runs into notorious playboy Dean Winchester, quarterback of the LA Wolves. Only Dean's a big fan and he seems to want more than just a photo if given the chance...

Masterlist

Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader

Word Count: 4,400ish

Warnings: language, family trauma/angst, kidnapping

A/N: I promise there'll be more Dean and reader interacting in person next part! Needed to set the scene with this!

_________

You groaned the second you were alone. You’d survived the summer tour but you were exhausted. All you wanted was a greasy hamburger, chicken nuggets, and to sleep for a month. After changing into a pair of joggers and oversized hoodie, you texted your bodyguard Eric, telling him you wanted to get out of there quietly. He knocked twice on your dressing room door before entering with a smile.

“Great show tonight,” he said. You rolled your eyes, Eric grabbing your backpack for you.

“Like you pay attention to anything besides harassing the security team,” you said, resting your forehead against his strong chest. “I never want to tour again. I’m so tired.”

“You’re just cranky cause you’re hungry and need sleep,” he said rubbing your back. “You only have two more shows this year and then we can sit on the couch eating cookies and binging divorce court.”

“This is why I keep you around, buddy,” you laughed, taking a deep breathe before looking up. “Speaking of food-“

“Let’s get you out of here and full of some chicken nuggies.”

“Back in five,” you said to Eric thirty minutes later, your wallet in hand and panic button in your pocket. He let you go out without it sometimes but not after a show and especially not when you were in the press so much lately.

It was nearly midnight as you walked into the nearly empty McDonald’s, a guy in a hoodie at the counter with his back to you.

“Hi,” you said, stepping up to the other register. “Can I get a quarter pounder with cheese, a medium fry and a twenty piece chicken nugget with barbecue sauce? Oh and a bottle of water.”

You paid, the girl behind the counter staring at you like she recognized you but was too nervous to say anything.

“Holy shit,” said a male voice. You glanced left, the man in the hoodie pushing it down to reveal him in a black baseball cap. He was incredibly handsome and had such pretty green eyes. Something seemed vaguely familiar about him but you couldn’t place it. “You’re Y/N Y/L/N…and apparently you eat like a linebacker.”

“Dance on stage for three hours every night and you would too,” you said, the man humming.

“Do you mind if I get a pic?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said, the man handing his phone to the girl behind the counter who eagerly took a few. He was practically giddy when he got his phone back, a bag of food coming out for him.

“Thanks for indulging me,” he said. You noticed a few strands of confetti on top of his hat and smiled. He must have been at the concert. He almost walked away and out the door when he spun around, parting his lips. “Can I give you my number?”

“Sure,” you said again. It was much safer to just take the number and hand it off to Eric to do a background check on the person than try a rejection. The man scribbled it down on the back of your receipt, your cashier now acting as his wing woman and making sure he had a pen.

“I uh, hope to hear from you soon,” he said, flashing you a wink before leaving. You eased when he was gone, the girl at the counter handing you your bag of food after a moment.

“He’s so hot, isn’t he?” she said, your eyebrows raising. Not the reaction you were expecting from her.

“Mhm. Thanks for the food. Have a good night,” you said, quickly leaving. You ducked outside, Eric waiting in the backseat for you.

“Any trouble?” he asked, nodding to the man farther down the parking lot, slipping into a large SUV.

“Just a fan,” you said, handing him the paper with the guys number. He gave you a side eye as he took it from your fingers. “He was harmless.”

“I’ll check it out to be sure,” he grumbled, stealing a fry from your bag. “Did you get me-“

“Yes I got you your nuggets,” you said, Eric relaxing back into his seat. Your driver headed for home and in twenty minutes you were on your couch chowing down. Eric was at the kitchen counter, lazily scrolling through his phone, probably grateful that you were secure in the house for the night.

You watch his eyes go wide, gaze shooting to you.

“I swear I didn’t do anything.” You kept eating your burger, Eric silently watching you. “Dude, you’re freaking me out.”

“That fan from McDonald’s posted the pic of you,” he said. You rolled your eyes and got up, sulking over to him.

“Oh tell me he’s not some whack job.”

“He’s Dean Winchester,” he said, showing his phone to you. You shrugged, walking back to the couch. “Dean Winchester? NFL quarterback? Three time Super Bowl winner?”

You stared at him, Eric groaning.

“He’s the quarterback for the LA Wolves…he went to Kansas State the same time you did, Y/N. You probably went to his football games.” He rolled his eyes at you. “How do you not realize you’re taking a picture with a sports legend?”

“I must have missed it with all my free time over the past dozen years with all the touring and ten albums and other shit in my life. And frankly you’re the one that told me it doesn’t matter who it is, I need to be careful of everyone, whether they’re famous or not.” He sighed, putting his phone away.

“Alright, I get your point,” he said, returning to eating. “Dude’s kind of a player anyways it seems like. Nice guy but I know you’re more the sensitive guy type.”

“Emotionally available,” you corrected, plopping down on the couch once more. “Why would you think he’s into me anyways? Plenty of people are fans without wanting to get in my pants.”

“Well, it’s Dean Winchester so he definitely wants in your pants,” he joked. “Also the caption, genius.”

You quirked your eyebrow, Eric tossing his phone over to you. You pouted when you went back to the post, actually reading it this time.

DWinchester67 Y/N Y/L/N Saturday Night Concert at the Wolves stadium. AMAZING TIME with the crew. Worth getting ragged on by the boys all week for taking them to the show just to see them belt their hearts out to #FinishLine (video soon)

Then had the awesome luck to snag a pic with Y/N grabbing a midnight snack. I was dying on the inside at meeting my crush. Sorry for being awkward when you were trying to get your grub on. Next time it’s on me ;)

Your eyes met Eric’s when you finished, his chicken nuggets nearly gone.

“Yeah, like no reason he’s into you, right?” smirked Eric. You grumbled, returning to your late night dinner. “I’ll background check that number in the morning.”

“He’s a player that wants to have sex. Don’t bother with the background work. He’s harmless.”

“As you wish, princess,” he said with a little bow, earning himself being hit in the face with your balled up burger wrapper. “The abuse I put up with. Tsk tsk.”

“Yeah, yeah. Tell that to your generous benefits package,” you said, Eric chuckling as he double checked the back doors were locked one last time. “Eric…”

“Mhm,” he hummed, ruffling your head gently as he walked past the back of the couch. “See you in the morning, kiddo.”

“Night. Oh!” you said, sitting up on your knees on the couch, Eric throwing his head back. “It’s nothing bad! Just…can you ban everyone from the house until ten? I really want to sleep in and try to catch up.”

“You want me to fend off your team? After Dean Winchester posted that? What do I get out of this?” he teased, crossing his arms. You batted your eyes, jutting out your lip. “You got to do better than that.”

“I’ll buy you box seats to an LA Wolves game of your choice?” He looked blank faced which meant he was really tempted to take the offer. But Eric didn’t like extravagant gifts from you for doing his job. He already said his paycheck was more than enough and he barely accepted the Christmas and birthday presents you’d get for him.

You held up a finger, Eric calculating the move.

“Give me one good reason for not accepting.”

“First off, it’s too much. Second, I’m your primary protection agent and need to be available-”

“Please Eric? They’re going to be vultures in the morning with that whole post and you haven’t had a day off in six months. You’re as exhausted as I am. I’m asking as your friend, not your boss.” He grumbled, shaking his head. “Is that a yes?”

“It means I’ll think about it and I’ll see you in the morning,” he said. “We’re going to watch football all day. I’ll teach you all about it.”

You growled, Eric snickering the whole way out.

Dean POV

The first game of the season was always a good one. The team was healthy. We had home field advantage for once.

And I really enjoyed the hell out of playing football in a packed stadium. It wasn’t an ego thing like for some people. No, I loved putting on a show and entertaining people for a few hours a week, give them a fun escape before they had to return to the reality of their lives.

That’s what football had always been to me and I knew for most fans, it gave them that same sense of belonging.

And women tended to really like seeing a bunch of muscular men run around in tight pants.

“Winchester, surprised you’re here,” said Michael. I glanced over my shoulder in the locker room, a big smirk on his face. “I thought you’d be in the burn unit with how hard you crashed and burned with Y/N Y/L/N last night.”

I rolled my eyes at the taunts of the room, ignoring them as they riffed on me for a good ten minutes. When Benny walked in though they finally calmed down, Ben taking a seat in his cubby beside me.

“Let me have it,” I sighed. Benny leaned in close, covering his mouth from the rest of the room.

“If you really want that girl to go out with you, you got to do more than make an insta post. She’s classy. She’s not going to fawn over you like every dipshit you’ve dated because you’re good looking. So you better impress her.” He gave me one last look before reaching down to his duffel and pulling out his cleats.

He had a point. Y/N had never cared for cocky flirts. I could remember her in college, always spending time at parties with the shy academic guys that chatted her ear off about music theory and english papers. I swear the only time she gave a single jock attention was when she’d grab a guitar in the late hours of the night and sing a song none of us had heard before. She could stop a group of drunken college students in their tracks with a single note. Nowadays her music was all pop but back then, just her and a guitar…I’d have sworn an angel fell out of the sky straight in front of me.

No woman had made my heart swell up with comfort and longing the way she had the night I laid eyes on her for the first time.

The years had done little to diminish a teenage boy’s crush. If anything, seeing her last night, getting to talk to her for even a brief moment, made my insides burn hotter than before. Maybe it was only a crush, an infatuation with a beautiful woman with an even more beautiful voice.

I felt Benny’s stare on me as I lazily watched my feet before me.

“You’re still in love with her.” He said it as a statement so I didn’t respond. I’d never claimed such a thing despite Benny insisting on it back in college. But he’d always been good at sensing those kinds of things.

Or at least he wasn’t afraid to say it out loud.

“I talked to her in english lit once, about you.” My head snapped up, eyes wide as he was now down to his boxer briefs, tugging up his pants. “She heard what happened to Sam.”

“Why are you bringing up Sam?” I whispered, giving him a hard glare. Benny smiled, curious since he knew not to bring him up unless I did. “Half the school offered their condolences. Of course she-”

“She didn’t. She offered…hope. Apparently her little brother went missing once too.” I turned my head away.

“Everyone who knows anything about Y/N Y/L/N heard that story. Congrats. We both have little brothers that were kidnapped and never heard from again. Fucking awesome we can share that trauma,” I spit out. Benny leaned in close, gripping my shoulder.

“She wrote a song for her brother. Finish Line. She showed it to me long before she got famous. Look up who it’s fucking dedicated to and maybe realize there is a deeper reason why you fell in love at first sight with that girl. I have a feeling she’s the only girl in the world that could get you and you knew it long before your head did.”

I was seething, storming out of the locker room and into a trainers room next door, quickly shutting the door behind me. What the fuck was Benny thinking bringing Sam up right before a game? I could handle thinking about a girl but Sam?

I angrily typed Finish Line dedication into google, freezing at the short paragraph that appeared as the top result.

Chart topper Finish Line by Y/N Y/L/N was notoriously written by Y/L/N in her senior year of highschool after the disappearance of her younger brother, Max. Max is presumed to have been abducted while walking home from a friends house. The music video of Finish Line states the song is “For Max & Sam” although Y/L/N has never stated who Sam is. Fans theorize “Sam” is a representation of all abduction victims however…

I immediately tapped on the youtube video of the song, scrolling all the way to the end, bottom lip wobbling as I read the stark white letters against the black background.

She never gave me the time of day back then yet she knew who I was, what it felt like to have a piece of you go missing and you couldn’t do anything about it. She put my baby brother in a song for her baby brother and we weren’t even friends.

I swallowed thickly, forcing myself to calm down.

“Sammy,” I whispered, closing my eyes. “Is this a sign or something? Is she as fucked up as I am and the world doesn’t know it? Is that why she’s never been seen with a boyfriend her whole career? Did she shy away from connections when I buried myself in meaningless ones? Are we both so screwed up on the biggest stage in the world and that’s why I still feel breathless when I see her? Tell me I’m not crazy, Sammy. Tell me there’s a reason I’m still head over heels for this girl.”

I slowly opened my eyelids, staring at coach who was staring back at me on the other side of the room by the far entrance. I quickly cleared my throat and turned to leave, coach’s whistle stopping me in my tracks.

“I don’t know who the hell you’re talking about son, but my advice as someone who’s been married longer than you’ve been alive…you know when you fall in love. That’s the easy part. Admitting it and trying to get the balls to say it to her face is the harder part.”

“Sir, she doesn’t even know I exist. Or barely knows I do,” I said quietly. “I should-”

“Your little brother, god rest his soul, wants you to be happy, Winchester. So shoot your shot with this girl so you can stop having an existential crisis before my home opener, got it?” I glanced over my shoulder, coach’s face surprisingly soft for how close we were to game time. “She must be special to tame you.”

“She had me the whole time. The rest were me trying to forget.” He nodded, picking up his playbook again.

“Then go get this girl so you have your answer,” he said. “And stay out of my training room before games. Only place they can’t find me.”

“Yes sir.” I ducked back into the locker room, Benny gave me a raised eyebrow, silently asking if I was okay. I nodded and sat down to tie up my shoes, an idea sparking in my mind before I opened instagram. “Ben, take a picture of me.”

“Good god,” groaned Michael from my other side. “Like your insta doesn’t have enough shirtless selfies.”

He snagged my phone out of my hands, sighing as he took a photo of me smirking in my cubby.

“I regret being your friend,” he said, handing it back to me while Benny chuckled.

“Same, Michael,” I smiled back before I was on insta and typing furiously. I posted before I could stop myself, Benny and Michael sharing a look and immediately going to their own phones. But they weren’t fast enough apparently.

“Winchester are you serious?” shouted Gabe from across the room, the whole team looking at their phones now.

“Yup,” I said, standing and tugging on my under armor v-neck, my shoulder pads and then my jersey.

“You can’t force a girl to go out with you!” he shouted.

“I’m not forcing. I’m offering a donation to her charity if she does feel inclined to go out with me,” I said with a shrug. Benny grabbed my shoulders, looking at me like I was crazy.

“Five million dollars? That’s not what I mean when I said impress her you idiot!” he said.

“That’s what the picture was for,” I said with a wink, my phone already buzzing non-stop at the incoming flood of texts and calls. “You think she’ll take me up on my offer?”

“This fucker’s really about to get a fucking date with Y/N Y/L/N through a fucking bribe,” said Michael, shaking his head. “Dude, you’re crushing so hard it’s in psycho territory.”

“One date is all I want,” I said, smiling when coach walked in, rolling his eyes at me. “Come on boys, time to focus on the game!”

Y/N POV

I was currently hiding in my bedroom, reading a book on Sunday evening, Eric doing his best to get my agent and manager and PR head out of the house without force. As expected, they’d reemed my ass out for not capitalizing on the Dean Winchester picture in the moment but I didn’t care. I didn’t care about hanging out with pretty fuck boys for publicity’s sake.

But I had followed him on my private account no one knew about. It’d taken a moment but I remembered who Dean Winchester was in our college days. He was flirty back then I remembered. And a good football player I guess. But I just remembered what happened in the spring semester, how the whole campus knew his pain before he had a chance to even process it.

My heart ached for a boy I’d said nothing more than a passing hello to at parties.

I still felt that ache whenever I sang Finish Line. I’d never realized Dean went on to his own version of fame all those years ago. But I knew the hurt still existed in his heart. There was no healing it but some part of me wished I could soothe it for a moment. I forgot in the music sometimes. Maybe he could do the same when he played his games.

Maybe I really should have talked to him last night.

My phone buzzed and I saw a new post, this one of him making my jaw drop. “Hot damn you are good looking, Winchester.”

Then I shrieked when I looked at the caption.

DWinchester67 Hey @Y/NY/L/N it was fun running into you last night. How about you take me up on my offer and let me buy dinner for our first date?

Oh and to sweeten the deal, I’ll donate five million dollars to your charity if you say yes (plus another million for each touchdown I throw tonight, those are freebies for ya).

You got my number so waiting on you sweetheart. ;)

Eric was in the room before I could raise my head, eyes darting around the room before he determined there was no threat.

“Jesus, girl. I swear if you saw a bug-”

“Dean Winchester asked me out. Publicly.” Eric narrowed his eyes as he tucked his gun back into the holster.

“Okay…you made it clear to the team today you don’t want anything to do with a publicity stunt. What’s the problem?” You tossed the phone to the end of the bed, Eric sitting on the bench at the bottom to pick it up. He did a double take, eyes skirting to meet yours. “I’m doing a full background check on this man. He either really wants in your pants, to profit off you or he’s obsessive. To be honest, I don’t like any of those options.”

“Me either but five million dollars to the charity? Plus more? That could help kids, Eric. We could find a safe way to do this, right?” He pursed his lips, nodding once.

“One date at a place of my choosing. My team will be there in the background and I’m going to talk to this boy and let him know all of the ways I can kill him if he tries anything.” You smiled, Eric handing the phone back.

“You’d kill your favorite football player for me. You’re too sweet Eric,” you chuckled. He stood up, adjusting his sports blazer.

“You know why I stuck with you when my agency assigned me to the Princess?” he asked, a dry laugh leaving his lips. “You always listened to me. You didn’t always agree but you listened and we could have conversations. We could have conversations about safety without you acting like a brat or me like an asshole. You respected me and that earned you loyalty all these years later.”

You stared your hands in your lap. “My parents lost one child. I don’t want them to lose another.”

You were surprised to find him come closer, sitting on the edge of the bed, turning to face you. He tucked your hair behind your ear, smiling softly.

“Don’t lose hope now, kiddo. I’ve always admired that about you.” You looked away, Eric stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Someday we’ll find the truth. I promise.”

“My mom wishes it were me,” you said, shaking your head. “If I didn’t make my parents so much money I’d think they’d be plenty happy to let some crazy fan take me away forever. All because I was five minutes late to pick up Max and he decided to walk home.”

“Hey!” Eric gripped your shoulders hard, hard enough that you felt the strength of his hands down in your bones. He was always so gentle you with guiding touches here and there you often forgot he was as deadly with his hands as he was a weapon.

You met his gaze, Eric sighing.

“That is not true and you know it.” His stern expression softened when you shook your head.

“She told me the day we had a funeral for him Max should have been there and I should have been the one missing. So I know, Eric.” He pulled you into a hug, letting you squeeze him tight.

“I know she did,” he whispered, your chin resting on his shoulder. “She has so many regrets from that time and knows what she said broke something with the two of you. But I have had countless conversations with them over the years. I know you trust me so trust me when I say, you are their world and it would destroy them to lose you. She always asks me if you’re happy because she says you put on your fake smile for her. She doesn’t blame you one bit for it.”

“I hate when you have points,” you said, closing your eyes, getting another squeeze from him.

“Happy to help my buddy. So you don’t give up on Max yet, alright? Everyone else has. If he’s out there, he needs you to keep going for him.”

“No wonder your team adores you. Soft cuddly bear under all the threats of violence aren’t you?”

“It’s how I land so many chicks,” he chuckled. He kissed your temple and stood, cracking his back. “Respond back yes if you want to. Let me look into this Dean Winchester before you agree to anything else though.”

You hummed, clearing your throat when Eric was in the doorframe. “I-I do remember one thing about Dean in college. He had a younger brother Sam that went missing too. Never found him.”

Eric kept his back to you for a beat, nodding once.

“Do you think Dean is a bad guy?”

“Gut check says no. Probably just wants a hookup,” he said before stepping out and pulling the door shut fast behind him. “Rowan, I swear to god you bother this girl tonight and I’ll shove my glock up your ass.”

“He asked her out! I need to talk to her!” he yelled back on the other side of the door. You sighed and put on your noise canceling headphones before going to instagram and tapping on his post.

Y/NY/L/N @DWinchester67 One date. As friends Winchester

Not five seconds later you received a winking emoji and “friends” in response.

“Dear god, you’re going to be a handful, Winchester.”

________

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester x reader #football au #au #dean winchester x #dean winchester au #spn au #spn fanfic #dean winchester x you #football player!dean x reader #series #supernatural fanfic

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ginnsbaker · 1 month

Text

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (2/?)

Part summary: Leigh goes on a double date with Jules. You reach a tipping point with Leigh's relentless hostility towards you.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5,072 | Warnings/Tags: None for now... smut eventually, enemies to lovers A/N: So... this turned into more than a two-shot. But it will still be a mini-series. It's also kinda slow burn for a mini series (lol). Also, this isn't canon compliant at all. Meaning, I took a lot of liberties and added stuff to Leigh and Matt's relationship, and it doesn't follow the timeline of the show. With that said, enjoy!

Masterlist | Part I | Next Part

The vet bills hit Leigh's bank account way harder than she’s willing to admit.

She knew taking care of pets could get pricey, but she thought that was just for those on their last leg, like Matt's dog, Rogue. Facing those steep costs made her think twice about turning down Drew's offer a while back to bring back her advice column. So, she calls him up as soon as she pays up a quarter of the charges on her credit card for Visitor's medical expenses.

Drew answers on the second ring. “Hey Leigh, what's up?”

Leigh doesn’t beat around the bush. She never has to with her best friend. “Can we meet at the cafe? I need to talk to you about something.”

“Sure. Be there in 20,” Drew replies right away.

The coffee shop they frequent is a small local business that specializes in cold brews. Leigh’s favorite thing about it is not the coffee though, but its interior: mismatched chairs, bookshelves lining the wall, and the temperature that’s always just right. Leigh arrives first, securing their favorite table near the window. Drew walks in a few minutes later, coffee already in hand, and greets her with a warm smile.

“Okay, spill. What's going on?” Drew asks as he takes a seat.

“I've been thinking... about the column. I was wrong to turn it down. I want back in.”

The look of utter surprise on his face tells Leigh this was the last thing he expected. She senses his response won't be a straightforward yes.

“I'd be thrilled to have you back, Leigh, I really would—”

“But?” Leigh cuts in. She doesn’t need to hear a bullshit ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ excuse. She wishes Drew would just be as direct with her as she is with him.

Drew lets out a sigh. Under different circumstances, saying no to Leigh would be as easy as declining an upsell from a McDonald's cashier. However, ever since Leigh became a widow, rejecting her feels significantly harder, even though he's well aware that Leigh values honesty over pity.

“But the thing is, the new writer’s really hitting it off with our audience. She's had a string of articles go viral lately.”

Leigh doesn’t look at all impressed by that. “Yeah, I heard.”

Personally, Drew’s not a fan of the new writer's style, and honestly, he still prefers Leigh. It would just be a hard sell if he brought this up to management. As the saying goes: if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

“Look, I still think you have a unique voice. You know I’d still take advice from you over the new girl.”

Leigh scoffs a little at that, shaking her head. Drew rolls his eyes; it’s typical of Leigh to never know how to take a compliment. He continues, “How would you feel about guest writing? Maybe for the first couple of weeks, we could find a way to incorporate your insights into a series or a special feature.”

It’s not what she hoped for, but she recognizes the olive branch for what it is.

And she’ll take it.

“I... yeah, I think that could work, Drew. I've got a ton of new ideas, and this... this could be great,” Leigh says. “Uhm, thanks.”

Drew grins. “I thought you'd like that. Let's kick off with a couple of guest pieces, see how it goes.”

Leigh half-heartedly returns his enthusiasm just as her order of cheeseburger and affogato are served.

“Anything new with you?” Drew asks, his voice taking on that tone he reserves for the really good gossip. Knowing Drew's helping her out, Leigh figures a little life update wouldn't hurt as a form of thanks.

That update is about you. And the moment Leigh spills the beans, Drew's face lights up like a Christmas tree. But his excitement fizzles out just as fast when he figures out Leigh's got nothing scandalous to say. All she mentions is how you might've missed the mark by not doing your homework on the guy you were seeing.

“What’s your plan then?”

“Seems like everyone’s asking me that,” Leigh says flatly.

“You took your stray to her place, right? So, there must be some sort of plan. I mean, you could've gone to any other vet if you wanted to avoid her.”

“Yeah, but her clinic's location is so convenient, and I didn't want to shrink my world just for her.”

Drew hums in response. Leigh admits she’s been unusually passive with you. Normally, she'd confront issues head-on, but even almost half a year later, she still hasn’t fully processed Matt’s death, let alone his cheating. She's been trying a new tactic, almost as if by ignoring her problems, she hopes they'll fade away on their own. She seems to be betting on the idea that if she pretends long enough, maybe one day she'll wake up and find those issues have lost their grip on her.

“I don’t know Leigh, the whole thing’s weird,” Drew says, scrunching up his face a bit.

“It’s not like I’m trying to make a friend or enemy out of her,” Leigh replies with a shrug. “I’m just using her services as a doctor, and she’s getting paid for it. That’s all there is to it.”

“Oh, so that’s why you need your old job back. She’s draining your purse,” he says, smirking as he adds, “Bitch.”

“You don’t have to call her that,” Leigh chides, though the corner of her mouth twitches in amusement. Deep down, she understands the twisted satisfaction in disliking someone without having to justify it.

“The funniest thing that can happen is if you two actually end up being friends,” Drew quips, picking up an accidental curly from Leigh’s plate.

Leigh finds that scenario hard to imagine, almost impossible. She doesn’t think she can be friends with someone Matt liked more than her.

Leigh is hunched over her laptop, with sheets of paper and colorful markers spread out on the table, meticulously designing missing dog posters for Visitor.

Jules, leaning against the doorframe with a mug of coffee in hand, watches Leigh for a moment before speaking up. “You know, you should've done that the second you decided to take Visitor in.”

Leigh doesn't look up from her screen. “His leg needed to be taken care of first,” she reasons.

Jules rolls her eyes, pushing off from the doorframe to come closer. “And? How did it go at the clinic?”

Leigh pauses, then lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I already told you about the tests Visitor had to go through. They said he’ll be fine.”

“I mean with the doctor, not the patient,” Jules clarifies with a smirk.

There's a beat of silence before Leigh quips, “No cat fights happened, I promise,” her eyes going back to her laptop.

“Any chance she knocked off a bit of the bill?” Jules asks, moving to sit behind Leigh to take a peek of her work. It looks like an 8th grader’s art project, but she bites back any criticisms.

“Nope.”

“Told you she’s a bitch,” Jules murmurs under her breath.

“It's not like anyone's doing charity work these days, especially not in this economy,” Leigh argues weakly.

“Yeah, right. Like she needs your money, Leigh. Veterinarians are loaded, if you didn’t know.”

“If you say so.”

Jules decides to drop the subject, and Leigh can hear her shuffling and thinking behind her.

“Hey, there's something I've been wanting to ask you. Don't get mad, okay?”

“Prefacing like that? I'm bracing myself to be utterly scandalized,” Leigh says before smiling and sneaking a glance at Jules.

“Great, you’re cracking jokes again. That’s a good sign,” Jules deadpans but a second later, she’s smiling too.

“Ask away,” Leigh prods.

Jules takes a deep breath, and then:

“Do you think you’re ready to meet someone new?”

Leigh suddenly stops, her fingers just hanging there above the keyboard, unsure of what to do next. What’s the protocol here? If three months is usually the cooling period after a break-up before one can start dating other people, then what's the deal when it's about a husband who's not only passed away but was also cheating? How does that work?

Before Leigh can come up with an answer, she realizes she's already saying no.

Jules groans. “Come on, it's just a double date. It'll be fun. You and me and—”

“I’m really not in the mood to meet other people, Jules.”

Jules cuts in, laying it on thick. “Leigh, seriously, when was the last time you went out and had a little fun? You're practically turning into a recluse. I won't stand by and watch my sister morph into the neighborhood's infamous dog lady.”

“Dog lady? Really?”

“I'm just saying, it's either try something new or start knitting dog sweaters for fun. Your choice.”

Jules can be a real pest sometimes; it’s an endearing quality except when they seem ready to go for each other's throats.

“You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?” Leigh rests her chin on her hand, seriously considering the invitation for a second. “I don’t know how to meet people, Jules. I stopped meeting people when I met Matt. He was my entire world, you know?”

Jules softens, throwing her arms around Leigh’s shoulders. “I know. And I wouldn't push if I didn't think it could be good for you. Plus, I promise, if it's awful, I'll personally escort you out and we can ditch them for ice cream. How's that?”

Leigh senses that Jules won't give up until she gets a yes, so she decides to concede just this time and get it over with.

“Okay, okay, you win. I'll go on your stupid double date. But if this ends in disaster, you're buying me the biggest tub of ice cream you can find,” Leigh says, shrugging her sister off her.

Jules pumps her fist in victory. “Deal! You won't regret this, Leigh. And who knows? It might actually be fun.”

The double date goes surprisingly smoothly, except for the occasional touches coming from her date. To be fair, they are typical for a date and are executed with respect. However, for some reason, Leigh finds herself unusually conscious of every physical contact, making her anxious to move things along and call it a night.

As they step out of the restaurant, Leigh mentally scrambles to remember her date's name. She's bracing for the goodbyes, ready to retreat into the comfort of her room, when Tommy, Jules' girlfriend, suggests they cap the night off at a new bar. It turns out Leigh's date has an investment in the place. He jumps at the suggestion, clearly eager to flaunt this detail, perhaps hoping to impress her.

He does earn a sincere, “That’s cool,” from Leigh, just before she slides into the backseat of his car. Tommy quickly calls dibs on the front seat, leaving the siblings sitting next to each other in the back.

The new bar clearly wants to be the town’s next hotspot, but it seems to be trying too hard. It's got this odd vibe where you're not sure if you should be dancing or just looking around, wondering what it really wants you to do. But Leigh agreed to this, and she won’t embarrass Jules by ditching.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

She stiffens a bit as he draws near, the heat of Patrick's breath—Jules had reminded her of his name during the car ride—making her uncomfortably aware of how close he is. She shifts, trying to put a polite distance between them without seeming too obvious about it. “Um, just a gin and tonic, please,” she says.

She practically sighs in relief as Patrick heads off to order, her eyes darting around the bar. The 90s R&B background gets her head bopping, but all she’s thinking about is her couch and an episode of Parks and Recreation waiting for her at home. Jules and Tommy are in their own little world, giggling and looking all cozy. Leigh never thought she could feel like a third wheel on a double date.

Patrick is taking his time, and when Leigh cranes her neck to peer over the bar, she catches him striking up a conversation with a blonde. Her eyes narrow into slits as she watches, both of them obviously charmed by the other as Patrick laughs at something she said, enjoying himself in a way he hadn’t all night.

Leigh feels a prick of irritation. Sure, she hasn’t been giving him the time of his life, but they’re still on a date. Isn’t there some unwritten rule about not flirting with other people when you're supposed to be with someone?

She waits a bit longer, hoping Patrick would remember he was supposed to be getting her a drink and come back. However, he hasn't moved an inch from his spot and is even passing Leigh's drink to the woman as they keep chatting. Leigh’s mind races. She knows she isn’t into Patrick, has been giving him nothing but the bare minimum, yet she can't shake off the feeling of being slighted. It's not like she wanted his undivided attention, but this... this just seems rude.

She catches Jules looking at her, a questioning eyebrow raised. Leigh just shrugs, not sure how to explain the jumble of feelings she's experiencing without sounding petty or jealous.

When Patrick finally comes back with her drink, the mood has already turned sour for Leigh. She musters a polite smile, accepts the gin and tonic with a thank you, but then heads to the bar on her own without saying anything more. At this point, she's indifferent to what Patrick, Tommy, or Jules might think or say of her; she's finished playing nice for the day.

Leigh slams her gin and tonic like it's water, the sting barely registering. She signals for another without missing a beat and strangers start sliding over drinks with cheeky grins. She toasts to nothing, to no one, letting the conversations slip away before they can get even one word out.

By drink number six—or was it seven?—everything's spinning, laughter too loud, lights too bright. Leigh’s clinging to the bar for dear life when she thinks she sees you. But as quickly as the figure appears, it's lost again, leaving her questioning her ability to handle her alcohol. Back in her college days, Leigh could hold her liquor like a champ, thanks to endless nights of partying. But now, staring down at her drink, she realizes she might've overestimated her current tolerance. The alcohol hits harder than she remembers, making her head swim more than she'd like to admit. It's been a while since she's gone this hard, and her body isn't shy about reminding her.

The worst part of it though is why, of all the faces her mind could conjure up, it's choosing yours.

Just as she tries to shake off the bizarre vision, your face appears again, this time on the dance floor, writhing in a sea of thick, sweating bodies. You're dancing closely with a man, and it’s—

It’s Matt.

Leigh blinks rapidly, attempting to dispel the hallucination because it's impossible; Matt is dead—this can't be real.

But the image of you and Matt refuses to go away. She continues to see the way your grind against him, the way you caress his face as you pull it further into your neck. Anger surges through her, hot and uncontrollable, and before she knows it, her last shot of tequila crashes to the floor. Before the bartender or anyone else can even figure out what's happening, Leigh storms through the crowd, pushing her way to what she believes is you and her husband, and shoves the couple hard. The moment she does it, the fog in her brain finally clears.

She saw wrong. They’re just a random couple, looking as shocked as she feels mortified.

Humiliated and more drunk than she's willing to admit, Leigh doesn't stick around to apologize. Tears start to well up as she pushes through the crowd, dodging empty faces while Jules' calls fade into the background. She shoves through the last of the mob, bursts through the doors into the night, and freedom feels just a breath away. But that breath catches, twists into a violent churn in her gut, and she can barely stagger a few desperate steps away from the entrance before her knees are on the cold pavement, and she’s spilling out onto the ground in front of her. A few groans of disgusts from the people around her doesn’t register as she succumbs to the consequences of her indulgence. Shortly after, she remembers why she’s cut back on alcohol, apart from the fact that Matt abhors it, turns him off more than anything.

“Leigh?”

The voice is familiar, even if she’s heard it only a few times. Her head's spinning as she looks up, the chilly air slapping her face after the stuffiness of the club. She blinks, trying to clear the blur of tears and the aftereffects of one too many drinks, squinting at the figure stepping out from under the streetlights.

Your face, more clearly now under the lamp post is kind of sobering her up a bit.

So, were you actually there in the club, or is Leigh so haunted by thoughts of you and Matt—thoughts she's tried so hard to ignore and bury—that she managed to conjure you as a way to finally confront her true feelings about the entire situation? It’s always the battles with herself she never wins.

“Hey, you alright?” you ask, lowering yourself to get a better look at her but keeping back a bit—just enough space for her to catch her breath or in case she needs to throw up again.

Leigh doesn't respond, doesn't even seem to see you're there. You rummage through your crossbody bag, pulling out some wet wipes and offering them to her. She still doesn't look up, but grabs what you’re offering with a little force.

She proceeds to wipe her mouth and then her entire face as you continue talking, words tumbling out in a nervous stream.

“I saw you back there, in the club. I wasn't sure if I should come up to you, you know, with everything that's happened... with me being... well, the person I am in all of this,” you explain softly. “And then I saw what happened, how upset you got. Sorry I followed you here, I…I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Leigh abruptly gets to her feet, and you instinctively step back, giving her more room than probably needed.

“Why?” Leigh fires at you, her tone so icy it almost makes you regret coming after her. You're taken aback, eyebrows scrunching up in confusion.

Why what?

“Why do you even care?” she clarifies, eyeing you as if you're the densest person on the planet.

You grasp for something, anything that sounds like you're not just here out of guilt. “Anyone who knows you would be worried,” you say before you can think twice about what it could mean.

Leigh's laugh is sharp, cutting. “You don't know me,” she throws back.

“Yeah, I don’t,” you mumble to yourself. You wish you did, so you could fix this.

Leigh’s anger doesn’t let up. “You know what I think? You're playing the good Samaritan to scrub off your guilt. But not knowing Matt was married? That's on you. I bet you never asked too many questions because you wanted him to be Mr. Perfect—single, ready to mingle, the dream guy.”

Opening your mouth to argue, you find yourself at a loss. Leigh’s not entirely wrong. With Matt, you were in a bubble, caught up in the thrill of meeting someone who seemed so right, so honest. You clung to his every word, wanting to believe in this image of him you'd built up.

The truth is, you never wanted to meet Leigh Shaw; you wanted to believe Matt's only fault was how he ended things with you, by disappearing.

But before you can admit to all of that, Leigh is already storming off. You think about chasing after her, but she spins around so fast at your footsteps, shooting you a threatening look and a low, “Stop following me,” that nails you to the ground.

You keep staring at the spot she disappeared from, long after she's gone, wondering why Matt felt the need to find love elsewhere.

Leigh goes home, but not to an empty house. The second she opens the door, Visitor bounds into her arms, full of wiggles and wet nose kisses. Her mom's off somewhere, doing who knows what—Leigh's stopped trying to figure out where or why. Meanwhile, her phone buzzes with a string of voicemails from Jules, but Leigh's not in the mood to dive into those just yet. She decides they can wait till morning, along with the other missed calls and unread messages from strangers, asking for more information on Visitor.

For now, she peels off her socks and pants, leaving them scattered carelessly up the stairs before passing out on her bed.

Visitor’s follow-up check-up rolls around way too quickly for comfort. The moment Leigh steps through the clinic door with the dog in tow, you can practically cut the tension with a knife. Leigh's trying to keep it together, but her attempts at civility are imbued with a coldness that can’t be ignored.

With only a small ‘good morning’ from you and a nod from Leigh, you start the consultation, knowing you’d be doing her a favor if you just get right to it.

“How's Visitor been eating?” you ask as you work your stethoscope.

“He eats fine,” Leigh drawls.

You nod, jotting down a note before moving on, “And his activity levels? Any changes there?”

Leigh’s response comes laced with sarcasm.

“Oh, he's just peachy. Running marathons every morning.”

You clear your throat, trying to rein in your mounting annoyance at her childish behavior. “I'm just trying to get a complete picture,” you say.

But Leigh's not having any of it. Her comments grow sharper, her patience thinning, and it's clear she's more interested in taking jabs at you than discussing her dog's health.

Her last sarcastic remark has you drawing the line. “Leigh, you can be upset with me all you want outside of this clinic, but I won't tolerate disrespect while I'm trying to do my job,” you say evenly. “You're welcome to find another vet if you can't keep this professional. I have every right to refuse service if this continues. It's not what I want, but I'm not about to let you treat me any less professionally.”

Leigh goes quiet, yet she keeps her eyes locked on yours, decidedly not backing down. Then, after a tense moment, she mutters a single word, “Sorry.” It's not much, but it's something, and you decide to take it and move on.

“You mentioned something about a blood sample?” Leigh says, steering the conversation back to the reason she came in, and you're all for following her lead on this.

“Yeah, we need to check if his platelets are up and his infections are down, see if the meds are doing their job,” you explain. Then, veering a bit from standard procedure, you add, “Since this is a follow-up visit, I'm going to cut the lab test price in half for you.”

The discount evidently lifts her mood. It's not a perfect truce, but it's enough to get through the examination without any more barbs.

A while later, you're back with Visitor's CBC results in hand. “The infection's gone down, but it's still borderline,” you report, showing her the numbers. “We'll need to keep him on the medication for another week. And I'm adding some multivitamins and a specific diet to his regimen.”

You scribble down the details, then note at the bottom of the pad about the discount—not just for the lab test, but for the prescriptions too.

Leigh takes the paper, scanning the details before her eyes finally meet yours. “Thank you,” she says, her voice softer than it's been.

“You’re welcome,” you reply with a smile before going back to your notebook, looking deep in thought.

Leigh feels like you're back to your usual, friendly self. Yet she thinks she prefers the more raw, unfiltered version of you. The version that called her out earlier. These days, she's starving for that kind of honesty. Because having her as your client can’t be all that pleasurable. She's aware of how challenging she's been, and the straightforwardness somehow makes her feel more understood, more seen.

She wishes people would stop seeing her as Leigh: the one with the dead husband.

Then, out of nowhere, she asks, “When did you start working here?”

It's a seemingly insignificant question, yet coming from Leigh, it prompts you to close your notebook and focus entirely on her.

“I—”

“Because a year ago, I remember meeting a different doctor,” Leigh adds, absentmindedly running her fingers through Visitor’s coarse hair as he sleeps on her lap.

“You’ve been here before?”

It’s a painful memory—one that still sometimes brings tears to her eyes whenever it crosses her mind. Back then, the clinic bore a different name, and she and Matt had come together to say goodbye to Rogue.

“I have when it was still called Palm Coast,” she says.

You nod, understanding the context now. “Yeah, that was before my time. I bought this clinic on a whim after spending a few years practicing in Dubai.”

While most would latch onto the tidbit about your intriguing career history, Leigh zeros in on something else entirely, asking directly, “When did Matt start coming here?”

You shift uncomfortably at her question, and Leigh immediately regrets pushing too hard. She’s about to backtrack when you halt her apologies. “It’s okay. I’m open to talking about it, just not here,” you suggest. “How about over coffee?”

Leigh hesitates, then says, “Okay, let me just text my boss that I won't be able to lead the yoga class this morning.”

“It doesn’t have to be now. Tomorrow works,” you say.

Realizing her assumption, Leigh’s cheeks color slightly. “What time?”

Now it's your turn to feel a bit awkward. “Would 7 work? It's the only time I have before the clinic opens.”

“In the morning?” Leigh says again, making sure she heard you right.

You nod sheepishly in reply.

“Or we could maybe—”

“No, it's okay,” Leigh interrupts quickly. She's usually up before sunrise anyway; the only change would be trimming her morning run a bit. And for a one-time chat to get the answers she's after, she figures she can make such a small sacrifice.

–

“Are you sure you want to return Visitor to his real family?”

True to form, it's Jules who breaks the two-day-long sibling spat. It's usually her who tries to smooth things over with an apology, even on days when Leigh isn't exactly the easiest person to deal with. Her therapist keeps telling her not to always be the one to buckle, especially when she's the one who's been hurt, that Leigh should be the one to step up and make things right for a change.

But here she is, reaching out first, just like always—because waiting for Leigh to make the first move feels like waiting for snow in July.

“Oh, so you’re talking to me again?” Leigh says as if she's gearing up for another round of conflict rather than welcoming peace.

Jules ignores her and continues, “Have you actually tried to find Visitor's owners, or have you just kinda... kept him because it feels good to have him around?”

“So what if it feels good to have a dog who loves you and is loyal to you?”

Jules shakes her head in a condescending manner, which only serves to irritate Leigh further. As soon as her popcorn is done, she heads out of the kitchen, flops onto the couch, flips on the TV, and kicks her feet up on the coffee table. Jules follows her, opting to stand next to the TV, poised to yank the plug out if necessary.

“Leigh, you do understand that taking care of a dog isn't something to take lightly, right?” Jules starts, but she breaks off when the dog in question trots over, tail wagging, trying to coax Jules into picking him up.

Leigh acts like she hasn't heard a word, her eyes glued to the TV screen.

“I thought you'd learned something from what happened with Rogue—”

That hits a nerve. Leigh's quick to fire back, “Oh, and jumping into a serious relationship is super responsible, right? Especially when staying sober is part of the deal.”

Right after the words leave her mouth, Leigh regrets them deeply. She's painfully aware of Jules' long battle with alcoholism, a struggle that began in college and required more than a couple of tries before Jules could claim any sort of victory over her addiction. Leigh knows it's still a sore subject for Jules, still fighting her demons, making her comment unfairly harsh.

Though the retaliation didn’t come out of nowhere. Leigh caught Jules at the club, discreetly sipping a drink she swore off, and chose to keep quiet then to avoid causing a scene in front of Tommy. She had plans to bring it up later, but then her own slip-up with drinking, bailing on her date, and the fallout with Jules spiraled into one of their nastiest rows in a long while.

“Jules, I’m sorr—”

“Just save it, Leigh.”

Jules heads for the door, her hand clenched tight, barely hanging onto her emotions. Leigh feels the situation slipping further downhill, and she can't just stand back and watch things crumble even more. She's about to chase after Jules when the doorbell rings, stopping both of them cold.

But Jules doesn’t even bother with the door; instead, she veers off, storming upstairs with that telltale slam of her bedroom door echoing down. Leigh sighs, stuck in the aftermath, while Visitor starts barking at the door. Dragging her feet, Leigh heads over to open it, half-expecting another problem but hoping for a distraction.

Leigh definitely wasn't expecting Danny, and seeing him there, she gets the sinking feeling that this storm swirling around her isn’t going to blow over just yet.

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

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se4son-of-the-witch · 4 months

Text

white ferrari - chris sturniolo

a/n: please the amount of courage it is taking for me to post this is embarrassing 😓 this is lowkey shit, so please bare with me. also i was listening to frank ocean while writing, hence the title.

chris x fem reader !

Tears dried on your cheek as you looked out the window of the minivan. This would be the last time you would be riding in it. The car where you would sing along to Mac Miller with Matt and Chris, go on late-night McDonald's runs, or needed a ride to hang out with Chris.

Matt was currently taking you home. Today was probably one of the worst days of your life. After some thinking, you and Chris decided it would be best for the two of you to go your separate ways. With his YouTube career kicking off, you wanted him to have as many opportunities as possible. With that being said, he told you they had found a house in LA.

Tears couldn't help but spill from your eyes as you replayed those talks of breaking up in your head. It absolutely shattered your heart, but you wanted what was best for Chris and his brothers. You knew it was going to be the most painful decision of your life, as he was your first love.

You rested your head on the window, looking out at the stars. Due to the silence in the car, you had the perfect opportunity to think. Your mind began to drift off, thinking about you and Chris' relationship.

the first time you met chris...

It was freshman year. You and Nick had become friends after having history class together. Today you were finally going over to his house to hang out. You knew about Matt and Chris, as you had seen them around school and Nick told you about them.

However, when you got to Nick’s house, you didn't expect to meet your future boyfriend. You remember it clear as day. When you walked in, Chris had been sitting on the couch, drinking a Pepsi. He had been on his phone, but he looked up when he heard you walk in.

"Nick’s friend right? I’m Chris," he greeted with a grin.

You returned the smile. "Yeah, I’m y/n. Nice to meet you."

From the moment you laid eyes on him you thought he was cute. Little did you know he felt the same way.

the day he asked you out....

It was about a year after you had met Chris. He had been planning this moment for a while. The two of you were hanging out, eating ice cream. The whole night you could tell something was off. He wasn't his normal self. Instead, he was acting nervous, like it was your first time hanging out.

"Chris, what's going on? You seem so...anxious," you asked, taking a bite of your ice cream.

He looked up at you, making short eye contact. "It’s just..." He thought for a moment. "We obviously have a thing for each other, and I really want it to be something, something official." A smile spread across your face. You had been waiting for this moment for a few weeks. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

You swear your heart could burst. "Of course I will, Chris." After those words, you swore you could see the weight being lifted off his shoulders.

"Thank God, I probably would've run into traffic if you rejected me," he joked.

The rest of the night he wore a smile on his face. He was so happy he finally made you his girl.

the night of senior prom...

The thing you remembered the most about this night was the look in Chris' eyes when you came down the stairs. The sparkle in his eye showed how much he adored you.

You picked out a blue dress to match what he was wearing, and of course, your mom wanted to get pictures of the two of you. Chris suggested you do the iconic prom pose. He wrapped his arms around your waist, giving his biggest smile. You couldn't help but smile and melt into his touch.

As you and Alahna danced with each other, you couldn't help but hear Chris' laugh. He was sitting down, watching as you danced with Alahna. The look in his eyes as he watched you made you want to melt into the floor.

That was also the same night Chris learned how to slow dance. You had somehow convinced him to dance with you. His hands gripped onto your waist, your arms wrapping around his neck. The two of you slowly swayed side to side, enjoying each other's warmth. Kisses were occasionally exchanged, which made the two of you laugh.

the first time chris had come home after being in la...

Chris had been in LA for a little over two weeks and you were missing him like crazy. You had Facetimed pretty much every day, but you needed to see him in person.

As you waited at the gate, you couldn't help but pace with excitement. The moment your eyes met the triplets, your heart began to race. You had missed them terribly.

Chris ran over to you, immediately engulfing you in a hug. Your arms wrapped around his back, tightening the hug. He rocked you back and forth, pressing a kiss to your head. As you pulled away, your eyes couldn't help but meet his. They were glossy and full of love. He leaned in, connecting his lips with yours.

After a minute, you guys pulled away, both wearing a smile. You turned around to meet Matt and Nick, wrapping your arms around both of them. Smiles were evident on everyone's faces, happy to be reunited.

As those sweet memories crossed your mind you couldn't help but cry out. Matt’s heart broke at the sound of your sobs. He rested a hand on your knee, giving it an assuring squeeze.

As he pulled into your driveway one last time, you finally took your eyes away from the window. You met Matt’s gaze. You noticed his eyes began to gloss over, which made your heartbreak. You had grown to become very close with Matt over the years, so it was like double heartbreak.

Matt walked behind you as you made your way to your front door. You stuck your key in the door, twisting it. Before you pushed open the door, your arms found their way around Matt. His arms wrapped around you, your head resting on his chest.

The two of you stood like that for a few minutes. Tears continued to fall from your face, sniffles occasionally coming from your nose. You could hear Matt also sniffling from above you. As you pulled away, you wiped your tears.

"Well," you breathed out, "thank you so much for everything, Matt. I love you," you said shakily. He squeezed your shoulder one last time before he let you go inside.

Your heart completely shattered as you closed the door. The realization had just hit you full force. You were closing one of the most important chapters in your life, but then again, you would do anything for Chris to be happy.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris x reader #chris sturniolo x reader

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brightbertalt · 11 months

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Just the thought of requesting a Hobie x reader gets constantly hit on and receiving tons of gifts including chocolates but regardless she rejects them cuz she’s with Hobie just a cute thought I had😅💙

love this!!! i can relate bc im so hot and sexy and cool 😎 and I hope u love this!!!

warnings - creeps bein creepy!

thanks! but…

you sat in your room, devouring a box of chocolates and some mcdonalds fries like no tomorrow. you remembered the situations that led to this earlier today-

“hey, uhm, here!”

the man said, pushing the box out in front of you, along with a card. he seemed very nervous.

“uh..have a good day! bye!”

before you could ask questions, he speed-walked away. you should be better at reacting to this. it’s been like the 3rd time today. you didn’t know what it was about you, you thought you looked like a perfectly average person. what could it be about you?

“sorry! i..uh..have a boyfriend..”

later that night, you decided to go get some fast food. nothing can satisfy a craving like greasy, cheap food. after you ordered you waited to the side, texting your boyfriend.

7:32pm

where u at hun

7:33pm

at mickey d’s u want anything?

7:33pm

contributing to the corporate machine?

7:35pm

yeah bc im fucking hungry

7:36pm

ill be there in 5

after you got your food, since hobie decided that he was gonna be there now, you waited. jesus, hopefully no one was gonna-

“hey sweetheart, how about you come back to my place and hang out?”

oh jesus christ. why does this always happen to you? seriously, this town had a problem with creeps. you walked out of the joint, starting to walk back to your apartment.

“hey hun-“

“oh my fucking god you better get the hell away from me or I swear to god!”

“hun, calm down.”

finally, it was a random creep. it was your creepy boyfriend. you two walked back to your apartment, the conversation mostly consisted of you ranting about your day and how this town isn’t friendly to women.

“I just don’t understand! it feels like I just get bombarded by every creep in this city! why?”

“cuz you’re beautiful. and i’ll beat the fuck out of ‘em if you want.”

“i’d like that actually.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #spider man: across the spider verse #hobie brown #spiderman headcanon #spiderpunk x reader #hobart brown #hobie brown x reader #spiderpunk #spider punk

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boatboysrowout · 1 year

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i am So Very Interested in the burger king vs mcdonalds au if you're willing to share more 👁️👁️

i'm so glad you asked

it's all grian's fault, of course. 'it'll be great if all my friends got a summer job around the same place!' he said. 'it'll be fun hanging out on our lunch breaks!' he said. 'this is a genius idea, nothing will go wrong!' he said.

it goes wrong in less than a day.

it all starts with scar's job application getting rejected from burger king. he takes this very personally, as the man who interviews him is grian's friend who had just been hired the day before, and scar had been assured he would get an easy in. ren, however, didn't like how many questions scar was asking about their ice cream machine and where their security cameras were placed.

so out scar goes, sulking his way through a successful interview to work at the white castle down the road, joining bdubs and cleo. the rest of grians friends end up scattered in shops around the two restaurants with varying degrees of satisfaction with their summer jobs.

grian, as he is wont to do, waffles around a bit before committing to a job. he's pretty sure he's going to join bigb at the library, but before he decides, he goes to pay scar a visit to make sure he's still not sulking about the burger king fiasco.

that, too, is a mistake.

grian doesn't know what happened. he swears he just meant to stop in and say hi. and maybe play a little prank! just a funny little joke! only he didn't realize how much hair spray bdubs uses and how flammable that made his hair, and really, how could grian have known that the second after he fled the scene of his crime, scar would walk in at the exact wrong moment holding a lighter, making him look like the guiltiest motherfucker on earth?

it's absolutely not his fault.

but.

now scar is out of a job again, and he's gotten it in his head that the only way to get his revenge on ren is to work at the mcdonalds across the street from the burger king and, to quote scar, "make him regret not taking my offer." and listen. this is the third job scar's had in two days. it kind of feels a little bit like grian's responsibility to make sure he doesn't get fired from this one too. but it'll be fine. what else could go wrong?

so much. so, so much.

scar almost immediately goes off the rails. he creates his own customer rewards program in which he refuses to serve a customer if they don't pledge their undying loyalty to the mcdonalds in exchange for scar certified McReputation points. this somehow is remarkably successful despite grain's repeated warnings that this is a scam- scar pulls some strings and grian is forced into kitchen duty after he tries to warn one too many customers. martyn and ren catch word of this and try institute a similar program, albeit to a much less successful degree. scar, however, cannot let that stand.

grian also cannot let that stand, but this is more due to martyn coming over every day during his lunch break and annoying grian by telling increasingly convoluted jokes all ending with a punchline relating to the mcdonald's broken ice cream machine.

so that afternoon grian and scar pay the burger king a visit. scar goes up to the front counter and gives ren and martyn the longest sales pitch of his life, something about cereal, and while they're distracted grain climbs through the drive through window and smashes their ice cream machine with a baseball bat.

that's the beginning of the end.

ren takes the attack way too personally. he gets naked, makes martyn crown him with a shitty cardboard crown, dubs himself the burger king, and declares war on the mcdonalds.

he and martyn set out to recruit for their army amongst the rest of their friends in the area to varying degrees of success. they first go to visit joel in his art shop, but quickly decide to leave after the first thing they hear upon walking in is a conversation in the back room in which someone appears to be blackmailing joel over something in the basement.

they decide to try impulse and tango down at the arcade, and both of them are so confused by ren's sales pitch they just agree to make him go away (they do the same thing when scar and grian visit them a few hours later).

ren and martyn's visit to the white castle is the worst yet. instead of walking in and recruiting bdubs and cleo with their impassioned speech and thirst for justice, the burger king and his hand walk into an active warzone.

there's smoke everywhere. bdubs is screaming. martyn swears he hears a gun go off. cleo is cackling. someone runs past them entirely engulfed in flames. as ren and martyn make a hasty retreat etho cheerfully greets them from his seat on a bench outside the building, tinkering with something that looks suspiciously like a pipe bomb.

they decide to take a break from recruiting after that.

meanwhile, scar and grian have been busy. they've recruited jimmy and scott from the florists down the road to launch a yelp smear campaign against the burger king, tanking them from a respectable 3.8 stars to 1 star in an afternoon. to a normal human being, this would mean nothing, but they text a screenshot of this to martyn and ren with the caption 'this u?'

martyn and ren have never once reacted to anything normally or proportionality in their life.

skizz, one of their regulars, also takes great offense to this. he insists that this is a devastating blow against the burger king's honor, and vows to get revenge.

no one's sure exactly how he does it, but within an hour he manages to trace one of the bad reviews back to jimmy and promptly doxes him, getting him fired due to the content of his surprisingly popular google+ account.

scar and grian, after laughing hysterically for an hour over the fact that jimmy was a google+ influencer, continue their reign of terror over the burger king by taking a selfie of them next to the burger king drive through menu, which they somehow have relocated to the roof of the mcdonalds.

it's the last straw for ren.

decked out in a red cape made of the burger king curtains and armed with a spatula and the fury of a thousands suns, ren marches across the street to the mcdonalds and challenges scar and grian to a winner-takes-all duel.

a crowd begins to gather, with nearly everybody grian knows save for the people involved in what has been dubbed the white castle war, forming a loose arch behind ren and martyn as they begin to chant for a fight.

grian and scar, who came outside to see what all the commotion was about, both predictably panic at the sight of two men in capes charging towards them backed by a crowd chanting for blood. grian tries to claw his way back up the roof while scar, possessed by the spirit of apollo, does the only thing he can and chucks a potato at ren's head.

that potato hits ren square in the forehead and knocks him out cold.

the crowd goes silent.

martyn, thinking ren is dead, drops to his knees and cradles his unconscious body close to his chest and dramatically confesses his everlasting love, vowing to never leave ren's side and to never stop spreading the tale of ren's 'grey long and strong' bits.

grian, upon witnessing this, realizes to his abject horror that he also has gay feelings for his manager.

he has no idea what to do with these feelings, and the crowd is still chanting fight, and he's experienced a lot of stress and unexpected emotions in the last five minutes, so he really can't be blamed when he turns on his heel and punches scar in the face.

scar, surprised but absolutely willing to go along with it, punches grian back, and they begin beating the shit out of each other in the most pathetic fist fight a mcdonalds parking lot has ever witnessed.

meanwhile, there's police cars and fire trucks with sirens on speeding down the road past them, and someone in the crowd realizes 'oh shit are those all going to the white castle?'

so the crowd immediately abandons the world's worst fight to go see what the hell has been going down in the white castle.

it takes a bit, but, with martyn still confessing his love and sobbing over ren's unconscious body, grian finally manages to land a lucky hit and knocks scar out, sending him crumpling to the ground. for the second time that day, grian realizes with horror what he's done, and frantically tries to run to get a medic only to trip over scar's unconscious body and knock himself out as well.

The headline of the local newspaper the next morning reads as follows:

...anyone wanna ask me about my last life mall au

#this is the new dumbest thing ive ever written #anyway thanks for asking. so sorry to inflict this on you #i had to cut so many scenes from this bc it was just too long so if there's any characters or scenes youre curious about hmu #more specifically: Ask Me About The White Castle Pipe Bomb C Plot #shoutout to lew for helping me plot this out. ill never forget u #third life #desert duo #renchanting #grian #gtws #renthedog #martyn inthelittlewood #cats words

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octuscle · 8 months

Note

Hey man, would you believe I was laid off recently and I really need a job. I went for an interview at McDonald’s and got rejected! They said I wouldn’t a good fit because I was smart and “could do better”. Well, I really need that job, so can you help me out?

Well then, my dear! If I were you, I might have asked if I could have gotten you some cool, high-paying job that matches your qualifications. But if you really want to have this job… Your next interview is in two hours. Let's see if things work out better then.

You play excitedly with your cell phone. Actually, you have a pretty old device. But suddenly you're holding the latest model in your hands. A pal organized it for you. Let's say: It must have fallen off a truck. Anyway, you don't want to be ashamed of cheap stuff. You just have the cool stuff. A cousin brought you the Palm Angels shirt from Antalya. Almost as real as the Louis Vuitton hip bag. The apps on your phone are blurring. News, learning and business apps disappear. Instead, you'll find all the usual social networks and lots of games. While you were reading the New York Times, you're now watching TikTok videos. To the delight of those around you, without a headset.

Someone asks you to turn down the sound. Actually you wanted to say "Oh, of course, excuse me". Instead, you answer "Hey, do you want a punch in the face or what?" Hehehe, totally a weakling. Your body, on the other hand, becomes more wiry and muscular. Could be even better, but you just hang out with your friends too much instead of being in the gym.

To really improve your chances, I'll give you a migration background. Your phone rings. It's your pal Aslan. You talk about who you fucked yesterday. Your accent is getting heavier. In the end you speak Turkish, now and then with a bit of English in it. Damn, English is very difficult. And shit, your job interview is in five minutes!

You were too late. You filled out your questionnaire full of spelling mistakes. And the tasks are really complicated. With lots of rules and regulations. But you got the job! First shift tonight. Enough time to celebrate the success with your bruhs with a shisha!

Great pic by @kiffarab

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #race change #male transformation #muscle transformation

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coralcatsea · 19 days

Note

what do alfred and arthur have in common? I think Alfred is more like Francis

-They're silly. Alfred more obviously so, but Arthur is as well. They both put on cat ears to 'prank' Japan and have random little races with each other just because. Hima himself said he can't decide if Arthur is a serious person or not.

-They're animal lovers. Arthur adopted a cat, named him Larry, and spoiled him. Alfred is literally depicted hugging a bunch of animals (including a gator) that the presidents had as pets. And he has a whale.

-Both grew up mainly alone. Arthur spent a lot of his childhood alone, so he assumes it's normal and tells Alfred he will be fine by himself, too. Arthur ends up away taking care of his own nation duties most of the time, and Alfred is shown just kind of doing things by himself.

-They have weird taste in food. Arthur's is either bland or burnt (though he's gotten better) while Alfred has all those neon cakes. Arthur also loves McDonald's and that cheesy American food he tried in the courtroom strips. They both love sweets as well.

-They like to tease. Arthur told Alfred with a big smirk that he might be a snakeman for Halloween, and Alfred is scared of snakes. They also lightheartedly teased each other over the phone about their political problems. Once when they were camping/spying at night, Alfred tried to tease Arthur about how the atmosphere felt like 'bloodthirsty monsters' were about to come out of nowhere. Arthur said if he were a monster, he'd avoid Alfred, and Alfred winked and said, "Well, it can get pretty dangerous around me!"

-They both like seeing each other in questionable/skimpy outfits, such as the Robin costume, a Rio Carnivale outfit, and Alfred's April Fool's outfit.

-They're both competitive. There's the whole Halloween competition they always have, and then there was that random race that I mentioned earlier.

-They're interested in old coins, as depicted in that strip about Arthur showing Alfred an old coin he found.

-They have a hard time being honest, and hide their vulnerability since they're sensitive to rejection. Alfred is tentative to admit how much Arthur means to him, like when Arthur was dying, or when he rejected Arthur's offer of friendship – despite very obviously wanting to be his friend given how much he goes out of his way to find excuses to hang out. In turn, Alfred's rejections make Arthur put up walls and come up with excuses of his own when he does things for Alfred, such as giving him food.

-They like showing off/impressing the other. Again, the coin Arthur excitedly showed Alfred. There were multiple times Alfred showed off during the Industrial Revolution, and then when Arthur was giving Alfred a tour of his country, he started texting his magical friends to come over the second Alfred expressed interest in wanting to see something fantastical.

-They're prideful. This goes along with the two points made above.

-The attention they give each other is mutual. Here's a whole post dedicated to the topic.

-Both love Halloween and scary things. They try to scare each other, Arthur has a tendency to sing creepy songs and likes ghost stories, and Alfred likes watching scary films and playing scary games even if they freak him out.

-Both love steampunk. Arthur got really excited when he found out Alfred shared this interest.

-They both have unusual friends. Tony, the whale, Flying Mint Bunny, and other magical creatures.

-They both like fantasy. Arthur watches fantasy movies and Alfred mentioned wanting to see fantastical things on his tour of England.

-They both like romanticism. Arthur is said to become a romanticist before he goes to bed and Alfred expressed an interest in romanticism on his tour of England.

-They both have experience as isolated countries. Arthur has his "Splendid Isolation" and the U.S. has spent a lot of time being isolationist as well.

-They're both intelligent. Arthur is described as sharp-witted and creative in his bio. Alfred is also creative, interested in archaeology, and is actually capable of reading the atmosphere, he just chooses whether or not to do so based on the situation.

-They value each other's opinions. England takes America's advice on how to improve his products, and America prompts England to give his plan a critique despite being sensitive to criticism. Also, Alfred wouldn't be sensitive to Arthur's criticism if he didn't care about his opinion.

-They like to please each other. Arthur often gives Alfred food, like ice cream and chocolate bars. In Hetalia Fantasia, Alfred planned and created an entire dungeon for months, only invited Arthur, and offered the prize of raising his stats extremely high if he won.

#hetalia #hws #hws england #hws america #ukus #answered asks #hetalia canon #hetalia manga #aph america #aph england #aph #usuk #usukus

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sirfrogsworth · 9 months

Text

Around 9pm, after the storm passed, I tried popping out to get some McDonald's. A quick 10 minute trip to get some pre-birthday nuggets.

When I got there it was pitch black. No power. The Steak n' Shake next door had power though. But I couldn't remember their menu and had rehearsed my McDonald's order. Less anxiety if you rehearse. So I check the GPS, there is another McDonald's 2 miles away.

Because it is America and of course we have one every 2 miles.

I drive over there, pitch black again. So I decided to go to the Jack in the Box down the street from my home. I get there and pull behind a car already ordering. The drive-thru speaker is broken and sounds like a voice going through a distortion pedal. In fact, I know some musicians who would probably pay handsomely for that speaker as an interesting vocal effect.

The guy started ordering stuff and the distorted disembodied voice kept telling him "Uh, we don't have that." He ordered a Sprite, she said "Uh, we have orange juice." I was going to order a Sprite with strawberry in it. So that was off my list. After 5 minutes of him trying to order things they actually had, he finished his order complete with 3 orange juices.

So, his Vitamin C is covered for a while.

I quickly rehearse my updated order and pull forward for my encounter with the distorted disembodied voice. She asked for my order and I loudly and clearly state my 3 simple items. She responds, "2 tacos and what now?" I loudly and clearly state my 2 simple items. "Would you like a combo? We only have orange juice." I reject the orange juice and the combo. "So you want 2 tacos and what again?"

You might understand why I don't frequent this establishment and prefer the powerless McDonald's.

I drive up to the window and pay. The now embodied non-distorted voice tells me to pull to the front and park. The parking lot is full and someone made the interesting decision to park, not in the disabled spot, but in the expanded wheelchair area *next* to the disabled spot.

Which meant they took up 3 spaces at once.

I wasn't even mad, I thought that was impressive.

Thankfully someone left soon after and I pulled in. They brought out my order almost immediately. Which made me wonder why they even made me park in the front. I could have waited 2 minutes and gotten my order at the window.

Whatever.

I still wanted a drink, but thankfully the Jack in the Box was connected to a giant gas station. So I went in there and they had a broader selection than orange juice. I found a Strawberry Fanta and headed to the register. I noticed a very depressed man shaking his head. All I heard was the employee saying, "I'm sorry we don't do that here." And then he looks like he is on the verge of tears, "I coulda swore you did." I then saw a wrinkled checkbook that had seen better days in his hand. I'm pretty sure he wanted to write the gas station a check in exchange for cash. I don't know why he thought that might work, but I'm guessing he was desperate. I felt sorry for him as he moped away. I paid for my Fanta and headed home.

And that was my 40 minute trip to two McDonald's, a Jack in the Box with only orange juice, and a gas station.

Also, I am officially 42 now.

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okkalo · 1 year

Text

ditched

karasu x reader

genre(s): exes to lovers, fluff

warnings: i used princess once </3 i wanted to be called princess ok

part 1 here

this is so bad i am so sorry i will rethink my whole life and figure out where i went wrong and never make something as bad ever again.

the walk to mcdonald’s was filled with catch-up conversations. him talking about his time at blue lock, and you talking about your finished school year and how you met the said “douchebag” that ditched you.

it was weird, the so-familiar walk without the familiar feeling of swinging each other’s hands back and forth. it was instead replaced with occasional and intentional bumping into one another, both of you still longing for some sort of touch.

when you both finally reached mcdonald’s you suddenly realized the difference between your dress and the building you were about to go in. suddenly embarrassed when thinking about the weird looks you’ll get you gave karasu a push inside, hoping he would go in without you. he only stopped and gave you a weird look when you weren’t moving. he saw you look down at your outfit while holding an embarrassed gaze, and that’s when he didn’t need words to know.

“i can’t be the only good lookin’ one goin’ in,” he stated in a soft voice, knowing to be delicate with your embarrassment.

“they’re gonna think i’m weird for coming like this,” you only fought back, hand scrunching the material of your outfit. he only shook his head, bringing himself closer and laying a hand on your upper arm.

“they’re gonna think yer the most amazin’ thing they’ve ever seen,” he declared, lowering his face so his eyes could meet your down casted ones. you didn’t mention how your heart had beat so achingly. he didn’t need words for it either, he saw it all through the blush on your face.

“you—.”

“‘m so sure,” he answered, already knowing what you were going to ask. he knew so much of you. it only made your heart ache more, missing the joyride of dating him.

you could only offer a smile, one which he found sadness in. he didn’t say anything about it. he only slid his hand to your lower arm, not going farther as he was scared of you retreating at the old feeling of his hand in yours. it didn’t matter though, you still adjusted yourself so his hand fell into yours. he hid his smile while pulling you into the restaurant.

he took the initiative of ordering, only having to ask if you wanted your usual. after placing the order you both sat down, which consisted of karasu staring at you while you did so. freaked out from his prominent gaze you furrowed your brows, asking a small “what?”.

“this whole thing just feels so…,” suddenly realizing what he had said he got shy, his blue eyes finally falling off of you.

“familiar?” you finished, feeling the sad reminiscence in your heart.

“yeah,” he whispered, scared to continue the conversation. there was a moment of silence between you both, one full of thought. “y’know you don’t deserve that douchebag guy,” he finally broke the silence with a mutter, eyes meeting yours as he rested his cheek on the knuckles of his hand.

you could only give an airy laugh, your gaze fleeting to a window, effectively avoiding his blue orbs. “yeah, i know.”

and there was another moment of silence, one where neither one knew what to say. the call of your order number rang, breaking the awkward tension as he got up, signaling that he would go get it. you could only sigh when left alone, wanting to say so much to him but afraid he wouldn’t feel the same anymore.

you both didn’t say anything when you were eating either, the silence continuing. it was only when you both had finished and were already halfway back to your house when you finally spoke up.

“i miss you,” you whisper, fear of rejection taking over in that second. his eyes widened as he looked at your face that was looking away from his. he definitely heard it.

“what?” he still had to ask, wanting to make sure it was true.

“it’s fine if you don’t miss me or anything i guess—i just—.” you jumbled, eyes flying everywhere but to his face.

“y/n do ya have any idea how much i’ve missed ya? us?”he guides your face to look at his, both of his hands touching your cheeks. “i still have one of yer shirts at my house because i couldn’t let ya go.” his confession had your heart swelling, a smile making its way on your face as you continued to look at him in the eyes.

“you were gonna steal from me?” you teased, cheeks heating up.

“yeah, it was one of yer favorites too,” he chuckled, hands loosening on your face as they retreated to push the hair out of your face.

“what a jerk move,” you gave him a light slap on the chest. he only gave another chuckle at the impact, not affected by the hit whatsoever. your eyes fell to his lips, something you’ve missed especially. would it be too much to ask for right now?

he quickly took notice of your eye positioning, his signature smirk finally making its way onto his lips. “missed me that much?”

you could only roll your eyes and push away from him. “not anymore,” you stated, ignoring the thoughts that screamed otherwise in your head.

to your luck, karasu wasn’t fond of letting you go so quickly. he caught your fleeting hand and pulled you back to his possession, lips finding each other through the movements. going against your earlier statement you easily melted into the kiss. you positioned your arms around his neck, letting your fingertips scratch at the skin before his gelled hair. you’ve learned not to run your fingers through his sticky and hard hair.

his hands in comparison fell to different places. one reached for your cheek, the other reached for your back. the kiss went on until you were both breathless, both of you putting all the emotion you felt into the kiss. it took a second to catch breath, karasu breaking silence through your soft pants, “i’m no rebound though, right?”

you giggled, hands making their ways to his cheeks as you let your eyes meet his once again. “you’re the real-deal. just don’t do the same thing the other guy did.”

“does this mean i can also talk more shit about him?” he questioned, smirking at the sight of your soft facial expression that showed so much love for him.

“you’ve already been talking shit about him, tabito,” you rolled your eyes and let your body flee from his. you looked down at your shoes, then back up at him with pouty eyes, knowing he already caught on to your discomfort.

“words, princess,” he could only deepen his smirk at your eye roll.

“my feet hurt, my sweet boyfriend who should totally give me a piggy back ride,” you hurried your speech at the suggestion you gave him, smiling stretching on your face at his chuckle.

“one more kiss,” he didn’t give an option, already sealing his lips in yours for a kiss. you indulged, pushing him away before either of you could get breathless again. “a little more,” he tried to go back in, you however rejected it with a push on his shoulder.

“when you take me home we can kiss all you want,” he only chuckled and gave a shrug before exposing his back to you as he got into a squat.

the rest of the walk home consisted of him saying more insults to the guy who had ditched you. “i would never do that to ya,” he would also add on after every insult. once you got home he also asked you out once again, not wanting to be one of those guys who never do—you complain about them all the time. and he sure held you to the kisses you promised him on the way back.

maybe you were glad you got ditched today.

unedited thanks for reading!

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock #bllk #bllk imagines #blue lock imagines #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #blue lock drabbles #bllk drabbles #blue lock karasu #bllk karasu #karasu tabito #tabito karasu #tabito karasu x reader #karasu x reader #karasu

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where-theres-smoak-2 · 6 months

Text

Loki Mid-Season Trailer Breakdown

SPOILERS!

So I just watched the mid-season trailer and there were some interesting shots in there that I want to talk about, I've also looked back at some of the footage from previous trailers that were released, so this is going to be a kind of breakdown/theory post on what I think is going to be happening in the last two episodes.

I've already said in a previous post that I think Loki will timeslip away right as the loom explodes and then go around recruiting the gang together and I think from this trailer that is still the most likely scenario.

We get this shot in previous trailer of Loki time-slipping to the Mcdonalds Sylvie works at:

I think this might be linked to the behind the scenes images of Loki and Sylvie outside the Mcdonalds. I also think at first she will reject Loki and walk away just like she did in episode 2. We get some shots in this trailer of Sylvie listening to a record and we know that record spaghettifies from other trailers. So I think after dismissing Loki's concerns, Sylvie goes home to listen to her record and then the world literally starts disintegrating around her, she'll go find Loki and that's when they'll have the conversation in the bar about what Loki really wants and then Loki will take her back to the TVA.

We also see Loki talking to Mobius in the Jet Ski shop trying to tell him that the TVA is gone, of course Mobius has no idea what he is talking about.

There is also this shot that shows the whole gang in what I think is a recreational room of some kind in the TVA:

From the clothes they are wearing it looks like this is right after Loki recruits them and they are still in their timeline getups. I did notice that OB isn't in his usual TVA uniform so it looks like we might find out what his life on the timeline was too, I am really excited to see what all of their lives were like in the timeline and we do get a few more clues in this new mid-season trailer.

In both this trailer and previous ones there was a shot of Casey in an underground tunnel of some kind but in this trailer we got this shot just before we are shown Casey:

So actually it looks like Casey was in some kind of prison or labour camp, I am wondering if the shot of him in the underground tunnel is him attempting a prison break.

We also get alot more information about Mobius' life on the timeline and it looks like from this shot:

Where you can see kid's bikes, a basketball hoop and other toys. There's also a sheet rope hanging out the window as if a rebellious teen has snuck out. So it looks like Mobius has a family, with kids. Honestly this makes me so sad, like I kind of suspected back in season 1 when Loki said Mobius could have a family on the timeline that he probably did, but actually seeing it is going to be a gut punch, it just shows how tragic it is that these people were all stolen from their lives. They weren't just taken away from their jobs or their homes but also from their families and loved ones. I don't know there is something about a father being taken away from their kids that just gets me.

But it did get me wondering, if he has kids then its possible, even likely, that he also has a partner. We now know that TVA Mobius' love of Jet Ski's comes from his job on the timeline where he worked as a Jet Ski salesman. The other thing we know he loves is pie. So what if the reason why he loves pie so much is because his partner used to like to bake and would always make him a pie to come home from work to. I can just see him sitting around the dinner table with his family enjoying a homemade pie. And now I'm sad again.

Anyway moving on. Something else I think is going to happen is a time loop of the events of the last episode where they are going to keep trying the scenario over and over until they get it right. There are a few shots that make me think this, one is where we are back at the scene where OB has made the model and is explaining the plan only this time OB asks Loki how much he knows, there is also a shot of two Loki's in the same place, so I think time-slipping Loki is going to tell past Loki what is going to happen to Victor and the Loom and then plan-making Loki is going to remember the conversation as it happens like OB did when Loki spoke to the past version of him and that caused present OB to remember in real time, if that makes sense. Another clue that Loki is going to try and get a different outcome to ep 4's events is there is another shot where Loki is talking to OB, (can't remember if its in this trailer or one of the previous ones) where Loki asks OB what they could have done differently, as they are in the Loom Room at the time I think this might be where they attempted it again but it still failed so Loki is asking OB how it might be fixed if they do it again and then he'll go back and relay that information to past versions again.

Unfortunately for Victor I think he is going to be spaghettified a few more times. There is this shot where we see him get spaghettified from a different angle:

what's interesting about this shot though is that for some reason he isn't wearing the helmet yet and he hasn't yet picked up the device thingy, through put multiplier? Or something like that, anyway it begs the question, why are the doors already open when Victor clearly isn't ready yet?

We also see Loki talking to presumably Victor through a microphone telling him what he needs to do, which is again interesting because first off why is it Loki directing Victor and not OB? Unless Loki is using all the information from all the failed attempts he's witnessed to try and get Victor through it maybe? But also we see that Victor has trouble pushing the green button, at one point he is pounding on it trying to get it to activate. It's hard to see in this screenshot but it looks like Victor begins to spaghettify again whilst trying to push that button:

I think that he will spaghettify before he manages to push the button and that is what will lead to this scene where we see Loki on the loom's walkway:

I think the reason why he isn't wearing the suit is because Victor was already wearing it and it got spaghettified along with him. The reason why Loki isn't carrying the through put multiplier is because it is already at the end of the walkway, after Victor dies, again, I think Loki decides to sacrifice himself to get to the end of the walkway and push the button himself. Although to be clear I don't think Loki is going to die, something will come along and save him. You can see bits of black coming off of him, but I don't think that's him beginning to spaghettify and think its similar to what was happening to Mobius suit in ep 1 with the temporal radiation aging it away, I think Loki's clothes are being aged away.

Another shot that I found really interesting was a simple one but I think it holds alot of meaning to it and its these two:

It shows the word 'believe but then the word flickers and when it does you get a quick shot of the word 'lie'. So who is lying, what are they lying about? It could be in reference to the lie the TVA workers were told about their former lives on the timeline but I feel like it might be something else. The lie told to the TVA workers is something we already learnt in season 1 so I would assume this is referencing some other lie. I don't really have any guesses to be honest, it could have something to do with HWR, but I am curious to see if this does connect to the last couple of episodes at all. I would love to hear other peoples theories if anyone has any.

We also get some interesting shots of Sylkie in this trailer. I actually think we might get some repeats of their scenes too. There is this shot of them in another trailer in what appears to be the same recreational room the whole gang were in above:

I'll be honest when I first saw this clip, with the way Sylvie slowly moves closer and closer to him I did wonder if this is going to turn into a kiss scene, it's just giving me that vibe, of course that could be my shipper googles clouding my vision. But I do think this moment between them is one that we are going to see at least twice and the reason why is because of this shot in the mid-season trailer that shows this room but in its spaghetti form:

Loki is holding up his hand and to me it kind of looks like he might be counting, like he knows what is going to happen next and begins counting down to it. So I wouldn't be surprised if he gets to the end of that countdown and we find ourselves back at the beginning of that scene.

Another scene that I think might possibly be repeated is the pie room scene between them. We have this shot in this trailer where Loki is going into the room:

We can't see anyone else in the room but what makes me think it might possibly be a repeat of the sylki pie room scene is that in ep 4 when Loki says 'we are gods' it is a wide shot, yet in the trailers it is a close up shot when he says the line. It could just be a case of they decided to use a different shot for that moment, but there does also seem to be this theme of time loops and things repeating so I'm taking any scene that is from a slightly different angle or distance as a potential repeat scene.

Ok so that's everything I've got for the trailer. But I do want to make a quick prediction on what I think might happen to all our characters in the end.

I think ultimately it will end up being Loki and Sylvie working together to run the new TVA. I think they hinted at this when they had HWR make that offer for them to run it back in 1x6. I think them actually ending up running it would bring it full circle, they would end up as the benevolent rulers as HWR put it, but they would have done it their way and not HWR's way. It would also fit into the whole we are gods conversation.

I think Mobius might possibly end up going back to his timeline and getting his life back with his family. As much as I love the friendship between him and Loki I do think that would be the best ending for Mobius, but I would want it to be his choice and I don't want it to be a case of his mind is wiped. As to whether its even possible for the TVA workers to return to their timelines, I think it might be. We never got confirmation on whether the timelines they were taken from were pruned after they were taken. My theory is that once they took them instead of pruning the timelines they instead wiped the memories of everyone who knew them, as if they never existed to start with, in which case that could be undone and they could potentially go back to the moment they were taken. But who knows, I guess we'll see. Even if Mobius does go back to his timeline I could see him coming back in future projects and helping Loki out with any problems that show up. I don't think Mobius having his happy ever after on the timeline with his family necessarily has to mean the end of the Loki and Mobius' bromance.

Casey I think might end up choosing to stay with the TVA and maybe he'll get a promotion. I just don't think his life was very good from the clips from the trailers and so he might decide he is better off staying and helping build the TVA into something good.

Another person I think might end up staying is B-15. Although we know from 1x5 when Sylvie showed B-15 her life on the timeline, B-15 said she was happy I could see her choosing to sacrifice that life in order to help more people by protecting the timelines. She would become this kind of opposite of Brad who was willing to sacrifice his colleagues and values for that perfect timeline life, she'd do the opposite and sacrifice her life on the timeline because she knows she can make a difference in the TVA.

I really don't know about OB as we still don't seem to know too much about his past or his life on the timeline. So I think its anybody's guess there.

I suspect Ravonna, Brad and Miss Minutes will all meet their end come the series finale. It's possible they might get a redemption but I just don't really see it happening at this point.

But yeah those are my thoughts on the midseason trailer. I'm even more excited for the last couple of episodes and can't wait to see where its all going to go.

#loki #loki series #sylki #loki season 2 spoilers

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