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hwaightme · 4 months

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With you

(masterlist) (taglist)

🫂 pairing: bf!seonghwa x gn!reader 🫂 genre: comfort, healing from hurt, established long-term relationship, fluff 🫂 summary: even when it feels like the world is crashing down, seonghwa was, is and will be with you. 🫂 wordcount: 2.3k total 🫂 warnings/tags: not edited, implied work challenges, clutter, focus, negative self-perception, crying, negative self-talk, catastrophising, physical/mental health, hugs, sharing struggles, unconditional love, supporting loved ones in darkness, feeling overwhelmed, love does not have a limit or price 🫂 taglist: at the bottom of the fic 🫂 a/n: this one was in the drafts, and now completed in a flurry, perhaps having waited for its time. hope you find comfort in this, and have love and your safe space. any notes, reblogs, comments are always appreciated. much love.

Sometimes, people said it was “not their day” - much like a sudden downpour. Sometimes, they could even say that it was “not their week” - much like a rainy season. For you, well, for you it was starting to turn into “not your life” - a perpetual cacophony of droplets pelting down and taking you with them. Perhaps when you were a child you did not pay much attention to your habits and your natural pitfalls, but as you entered adulthood and launched yourself headfirst into the corporate workforce to play the role of a diligent office worker earning your share and volunteered to take more and more responsibilities in every aspect of life outside of nine to five, cursed quirks were becoming harder and harder to ignore, or rather, to hide.

And this was exactly why you had found yourself in the darkness of your room, wanting to be abandoned by the world, staring at the ceiling and only seeing your mistakes and what had to be overreactions that were accumulating into a colossus faster than a snowball rolling down a hill. Nothing was right, and every single time, you were the one to blame. You couldn’t even change out of your work clothes into what, in your happier times, you called your favourite pyjamas - maybe it was because you were afraid to ruin them too. A rational thought? No. But it somehow ended up making more sense than the bingo card of emotional rollercoaster-inducing nightmares that kept on being filled out.

You did not want to count the minutes, possibly hours that you spent suspended in your own dread and misery. The time must have been considerable, since you could hear the turning of a key, and the slow opening of the front door to welcome none other than the subject of one of your present flavours of despair. Anticipating disaster, you curled up into a ball on the cold, now messy bed, and tried your best to force any tears away. Sleeves rubbing at wet cheeks and eyes, you did not want your boyfriend to see you like this. Weak, helpless, broken. Worn down into nothing more than the clumsy disappointment with medical bills and chaotic thought processes you actually have been all along. What a tragic ‘big reveal’. Absorbing everything around you and spilling out everything brewing within - you should have trusted those who had told you that you would make anyone and everyone run away. Who would want someone who couldn’t sort out their own messes before making another? Who would be able to stand someone who could barely last a day before ruining a piece of clothing, losing or breaking something, and on the better days almost guaranteeing a stain in the oddest place or some kind of trail of a sloppy existence? How could anyone rely on you when you could not even sort out your own noise?

With a trembling lip, you watched scenarios flash before your sore eyes of how Seonghwa would undoubtedly hate you. And when you heard a sigh travel from the corridor and crash against your eardrums, you knew that at the end of the day, all those people who had been saying the same thing over, and over, and over again to you were right. Until knuckles were starting to turn white you clutched at the material of the throw that had been lying on top of the sheets - without a doubt a protective measure, and here you were, ruining things. Never in anyone’s plans, you were an elephant in a porcelain shop. An elephant who should be put far, far away from anything human. An insensitive crybaby who both physically and mentally represented discord. You couldn’t even-

“Y/N, how many times did I tell you to not leave your shoes at the-”

Here. It. Was. The end. It had to be. It had to be the grand finale to what sliver of happiness you had left in your life. The little bit of festive cheer was already starting to evaporate, you could sense it. Soon, he would utter the words you had imagined many times. Soon, you would be alone and lonely. Soon, you would be where you were supposed to be according to what others established you deserved. You couldn’t breathe, with your back turned to the door, you could only sense your boyfriend’s presence, and catch the hint of a shadow falling over your frail, exhausted form.

“-Y/N?”

You did not dare answer, no matter how sweet, or how supposedly concerned Seonghwa sounded. He could be coaxing you out of your cave to scold you, or better yet, recite all the words you despised, but had grown used to hearing. The only thing on your mind was the thousand things you managed to ‘achieve’ today. One of them included those shoes.

“Hey… talk to me,” voice more gentle, barely above a whisper, floats across the room and practically caresses your head. You couldn’t move. He would be disappointed even more if you were to do anything. You should pretend you were just a pile of laundry, maybe then it would all stop and you wouldn’t be out here losing buttons, breaking baubles and scratching up perfectly good heels.

You sensed a dip on the bed. A warm presence. Your boyfriend scooted closer to you until you could feel him leaning over towards you, his chest hovering just above your side. The most impossible feat in the world was to hide yourself from him, but you could not help but try with all your might. A shiver jolted over your body despite you still being in a woollen sweater, resulting in a familiar, loving hand finding purchase on your upper arm. The thumb traced abstract shapes in a soothing motion, and soon enough, you were being turned a little ways backwards. Face to face with fear, you felt the tears that had stalled in a panic threatening to spill over once again.

“Have you… have you been crying?” despite being in the semi-darkness, the glistening trails on your cheeks must have given you away. One peck, another delivered by Seonghwa’s plush lips while a soft hand positioned itself on the side of your face, preventing you from hiding yourself, “...oh baby please, tell me, what happened?”

Your eyes bore into his, not dissimilar to a deer caught in the headlights, as though you had been spotted committing a crime. While you had been in a relationship with a man who you swore was an angel for a considerable amount of time, so substantial in fact that you had a shared lease under both of your names like proper adults sometimes decided to do, there was one thing that you could not bear to do - burden him with your troubles. You could not allow yourself to complain, instead choosing to bottle up all the miniature disasters into one catastrophic potion, waiting until it bubbles over and only then crawling towards salvation in the form of a long shower where no one could hear you cry. It had to be you who was wrong, anyways. It was always you. Even in things that were meant to be outside of your control, you felt guilty, repeating this to yourself until illusion became fact.

It was always you who had forgotten to take something out to defrost or had not checked the mail again. Always you who had not put some abstract item away, or you did but not in the right place. Always you who had not found the energy or the time to clean something or to water the plants. It was you and your family and your friends who had to untie Gordian knots, and you were the weakling who cried, and cried and cried while others seemed to be able to stand tall and face any challenge. In the inevitable times of a storm, be it your own or another’s you were the thin and hollow piece of straw that was bent in the wind and all the previous beauty crumbled to join the rotting ground. Your inner voice was loud and hurtful, blockading you from believing in anything else except the fact that you could not handle a simple twenty four hours. A tiny piece of news, a tiny little change be it in schedule or tone, a little hurdle all had the capability to ruin you and make you fall, leading you to how you were now. Did you try to manage? Of course you did, always. Was it enough? Never.

“Hug?” There it was. An offer that could never be refused. Perhaps this was the last ever time you would be allowed to come so close to the love of your life. Heart to heart, the delightful, comforting scent of vanilla being the only thing on the senses.

With a quick gesture, Seonghwa encouraged you to roll over completely, and lift yourself so he could wrap his arms around you, as though sheltering you from a storm. His chin nestled into the crook of your neck, and he tightened his embrace until you had no choice but to give into the comfort. Tired body and mind, unwinding at his touch, falling apart only to be rebuilt again, better, brighter, warmer. The long-awaited spring. Legs folded, you wriggled to close whatever space was left between your bodies, grabbing a fistful of his black turtleneck sweater as though to confirm that this wonderful man was real. Indeed, he was. More than real. As real as the kiss he planted on your cheek. As real as the reassurance that poured from his soul without any words uttered. Well, none except:

“Let’s walk through it, okay?”

Your head - fuzzy from the overflowing tears and emotional haze. Your eyes, puffed up and reddened. And even then, Seonghwa was looking at you as though you were the one to hang the moon and the stars. How could you dare disappoint him and bring him down by being such a disaster? You could feel another burst of terror and despair welling up and threatening to spill over, and it appeared that your boyfriend did too, for the speed with which he pressed you impossibly close to himself was beyond your comprehension. It was as if he was trying to squeeze every bit of pain out of you, sorry that you had to feel what you were feeling, sorry that he could not take it away.

“I’m with you, Y/N. I’m always with you…” soft whispers - sharp swords on your dark consciousness, slashing at the demons that had been rearing their ugly heads again and again for however long. You had stopped counting after a couple weeks, pretending that they could be kept under control. Again, how wrong you were.

He was neat. Seonghwa was borderline pedantic at times, but you were convinced that that was the exact reason why the walls of your home had not come down yet. But, if it meant that you would be calmer, and you could see more sunshine in your inner world, he would let you cry into every single sweater, every single shirt, and would never dare let you go. If there was one thing he was infuriated by, was by whatever or whoever had ingrained in you that hiding was the same as powering through.

“I’m done, Seonghwa… I’m so tired…” you sobbed into the warmth of his chest, allowing for everything you had been holding back to flow through and out of you.

“We’re together, so we will make it through. Through everything. Whatever happens, happens so that the future can happen. We will power through it,” he repeated the words like a mantra, aware of the turmoil that he had to combat to get to you, but was going to never give up trying.

“I feel… so small…”

“We can do it,” he cut you off, planting another velvety peck on your head before rocking gently side to side, running a hand over and over again down your back.

“So… so small…” the words disappeared, swallowed by an indescribable void that came with the onset of fatigue.

“I love you so much, Y/N. You hear me?” How could he? This was a question you would never be able to answer, but you thanked every part of the universe for giving such a blessing to you.

“I- I love you so… so much too…”

“So you and I, right now, we will lie right here, breathe, and then put all of the little pieces in order okay?”

“O-okay.”

“We share everything. Mhm?”

“Everything…”

A silence. Pangs of fatigue and worry about everything under the sun were not yet abating, but were becoming easier to manage as you focused on Seonghwa’s steady breathing, and the rhythmic thrum of his golden heart. You pulled away, admiring every part of him, not wanting to focus on anything else. You drifted into a trance, sinking deeper and deeper into his adoring gaze, unbroken. His hands found yours, thumbs tracing your skin in that same lulling way. You watched his lips as they let another miracle wash over you:

“I am so happy that I am with you.”“Even-”

“Especially. We. Yeah? We. And because we are ‘we’, we will make it through everything.”

The words echoed in your mind as you gave the love of your life a tiny smile. Your person. The one who was always on your team, even when you tried to delude yourself into thinking the opposite. He was here. With you. Through all the downs, through all the ups. When you know what is happening and when you need a little more time to figure things out. You and Seonghwa are here and will be here. Together.

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thank you for reading. please do consider leaving a reblog if you enjoyed!

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mylittleredgirl · 1 month

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i know some of you have been pressing your faces to the glass waiting for me to see this one in particular SO i saw "the nurses" the other night and am still thinking about it!!

i love love love it when characters get pushed to a point where you can almost see their childhood selves pop out, like are they even talking about what's happening right now? or are their 12-year-old hearts just screaming?? i love that margaret's outburst is both irrational (the hostile work environment is coming from inside the house; i was yelling at my tv "baby it's your fault!!!") and so so honest.

[this turned into a bit of a character thesis, so not only is there a readmore, there will also be a reblog soon with the rest of the post because i maxed out the image limit] [edit: part ii now in the reblogs!]

this whole time, margaret has treated her subordinates with a heavy hand because she thinks it's the right and fair thing to do. the rules say this is how it works!

she maintains a high standard of excellence in brutal circumstances, but she's also reactive, moody, and unforgiving. she's often shown on the edge of losing control and authority, she inflames situations by overreacting, and the thing she punishes most egregiously is disrespect (toward frank, toward the army, toward herself). she intentionally underlines the distance between herself and the other nurses at every turn.

from season 3 "there's nothing like a nurse": [all IDs in alt]

really, everything she thinks and does comes from a place of "they're not supposed to like me," but the childish part of her that is completely unable to see her own behavior is confused and hurt because "i'm just doing my job so why don’t they like me???"

it's her job to maintain discipline, but especially here in 4077-land, she doesn't have to lead with the whip. henry was beloved because he was an overly permissive clown, which will never be her speed, but colonel potter has all the same training as she does. he's loved and respected as the Good Regular Army Guy because he leads with discernment and mutual respect.

it's easier for him. he's more experienced, he's respected and supported from above and below, and he has a calm temperament — which isn't nothing.

from season 4 "the interview":

whether she's aware of this as a problem or not, we at home can see how margaret's inability to control her emotional reactivity causes her as much grief as her inability to control other people.

if she were capable of laughing off small slights, hawkeye and trapper wouldn't have used her as a chew toy so much, and henry might have taken her real concerns more seriously if they weren't lost in the noise of daily fits, you know? she rarely started it, so i'm not blaming her for the hostile chaos circus of seasons 1-3, but i am saying she would have had a better time if she knew how to take a few deep breaths.

this description from the script, after the near-brawl in the nurses' tent in act one, is basically her character thesis statement:

and here, when she's reacting fully emotionally, the truth comes out! the reason that she won't be flexible and show compassion to the nurses isn't because of the rules, but because they're mean to her!!

that's obviously a very bad place to lead from. she has enormous institutional power over them, including controlling their freedom of movement, but she feels like all the other girls in school are hanging out together and they hate her. because they are! and they do! the fight in act one boils over when they make fun of her hair, and that sent all of them back to middle school.

and in many ways, that's where margaret's emotional maturity is stuck (which is, i think, why i find her so endearing). she can't see herself. she knows they don't like her, trust her, or want her around, but she doesn't understand how she dug this hole herself, or how to get out of it.

to add insult to jealous injury, one of the nurses (mary jo, who gets between margaret and baker to stop the fight and takes care of the others in different ways) is margaret's age, and the others look to her as their chosen leader and personal support.

and i'm sure margaret had NO IDEA this was the messy truth until she heard it come out of her mouth.

and her emotionally breaking on the "one lousy cup of coffee" in particular…

i wonder, how often does some version of that first tent scene happen? does she deliver their assignments every night? she walks in already defensive, they immediately stop laughing, and then... she either finds a reason to scold them or they ice her out until she leaves. (and they probably start laughing again as soon as she does!)

from her perspective, when she arrived for the dreaded sleepover and they turned out the lights the minute she walked in, it's like they cancelled the nightly coffee klatch just to avoid spending one social minute with her.

i also think the nurses are right when they assumed that she wouldn't have accepted an invitation to hang out with them (and might even have snapped at them for being inappropriate for asking). she doesn't cross that emotional line, even when she should — she didn't know gaynor was spiraling after losing so many patients in a row, and didn't respond compassionately when she learned.

has she ever invited them for coffee or a friendly chat? no.

...... but her circumstances have recently changed.

[reblog with the rest of it is here!]

#margaret houlihan #mash #mashblogging #margaret is a holy hot mess and i love her sooooo much

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oliviaswrldd · 3 months

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𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 - 𝟏𝟎𝟎% 𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐒

I just can't stand it. I shouldn't be bothered because i know what i know and i don't need outside confirmations.

But seeing bloggers doing "experiments" with subliminals which ARE GUARANTANED and you'll enter void with them... It triggering me that there's so many bloggers which don't know what they're talking about. Or maybe they think they know.

I putted this big caption to bring your attention because it's another important thing to say.

Maybe i should just get off of tumblr or just stop reading too many posts lol...

With this subliminal you will enter the void state instantly

This subliminal is filled with all good affirmations, you'll enter the void state after listen to this

Listen to this subliminal 10x per day and reprogram your subconscious mind in order to enter the void

What the fuck?

This is so ridiculous.

Maybe i am overreacting but people are crazy over these subliminals like it's something sort of magical power which give you anything.

No. The only person who can make you enter the void, shift etc. is you. YOU and only YOU. Understand that you don't need anything and anyone to achieve what you want.

I wanted to reblog one post about "void experiment" and comment it but this girl turned off this option so i decided to make my own post in generally. And i won't say who do i mean because it doesn't matter. There's so many people with such ideas.

Post where bloggers telling you they'll manifest for you is just a BULLSHIT!

Maybe they have good intentions but if they're offer it to you they just don't know how loa works... And it's funny when some of them putting #nondualism (i'm not into it but i know what it is)

And even if it works after when they "manifested for you" it's just because you assumed that it will work. But it still comes from YOU. You could do it on your own. You can do it on your own.

STOP GIVING YOUR POWER TO OTHERS!!

#shiftblr #reality shifting #shifting #law of assumption #loa tumblr #void state #desired reality #dr #loa #oliviaswrldd #manifestation #manifesting

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sourholland · 6 days

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based off of taylor swift’s song style

a/n → well i bet some people didn’t expect this story to be updated again, however here i am and here it is. this is chapter 4. what mostly inspired me to try and finish this series is the continuous love i have received through it. there were a lot of people who told me how much they enjoy it and who am i to deny them. however i know that it’s been a year since i’ve updated this so if you want off of the taglist because of disinterest, please let me know!!! same goes for wanting to be on the taglist, just lmk 🩵

summary → he’s the quarterback of the cincinnati bengals, a worldwide heartthrob with an ego the size of lake erie—but does he have the heart to match it? you’re the bengals newest cheerleader, desperate to prove how much you deserve your spot on the team. it doesn’t take much to catch the eye of joe burrow, however that isn’t necessarily a good thing when you’re told that any romantic relations between cheerleaders and players is strictly prohibited.

warnings → strong language, nsfw content - oral sex

word count → 3.4k

reblog and leave some comments if you enjoy!!!

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter 4

“He’s fucking obsessed with you,” Sydney reasoned with you, listening to you finally debrief everything that had gone on between you and Joe over the last few weeks. “If you seriously start with all of this self-sabotage bullshit, I’m gonna kill you.”

Lena sat criss cross on the floor, silent and turning over the information you had given her carefully. Sydney was sitting on the couch beside you, knees pulled up to her chest as she spooned more ice cream into her mouth. It had been days since you slept over at Joe’s and besides a few text conversations and fleeting glances at the stadium, nothing more had happened between the two of you.

“She’s right,” Lena finally chimed in, her mass of curls held up in a claw clip she’d stolen from you during freshman year. “He’s obsessed.”

With a roll of your eyes, you turned over dramatically and buried your face into the throw pillow on your couch and screamed into it. If he was so obsessed, why hadn’t he called? Maybe because you completely overreacted after seeing one text on his phone like a psycho bitch, you thought to yourself begrudgingly. He probably thought you were crazy and territorial over guys you weren’t even with.

“I think I ruined it when I left the bar,” you sighed, considering screaming into the pillow again like a child.

“Oh my god, shut up. Men are so simple and literally do not care about stuff like that, I’m telling you. If he told you he let it go, he let it go. There’s no reason to overthink it,” Sydney assured you with a half-full mouth of chocolate ice cream. “Do you remember when I was fucking with Josh sophomore year and found out he was still hooking up with that one girl on the lacrosse team? Lily or whatever the fuck her name was–whatever, not the point–but do you remember when I deadass asked the front desk of our dorm building for a pair of scissors and walked a mile to where his car was parked and slashed three of his tires. Yeah, well he still hits me up. Men do not give a fuck.”

Lena had begun clutching her stomach in fits of laughter, rolling onto her back and shaking her head with tears prickling the corners of her eyes. You clapped a hand over your mouth, kicking Sydney and recalling how feral the three of you had been during your freshman and sophomore year. Moments like these made you wish the three of you were already living together again, as you had the prior three years. Well, Sydney shared a suite with you and Lena sophomore year and the three of you got an apartment junior year. After you told your parents that you planned to stay in Cincinnati after graduation, they knew you would need a place and gave you your graduation present early–a down payment on an apartment and your first month's rent.

Cheering with the Bengals and substitute teaching on the side allowed you to save a little, but most of your money went towards bills. Lena and Sydney were planning to move in and split the cost three ways as soon as your prior lease was up. They had agreed to take on your portion of rent when you moved out of your previous apartment two months ago, knowing they wouldn’t have to put any money away for the down payment when they did move in with you. They still had about three weeks left until the lease was up, but you had all spent weeks packing up the other apartment slowly but surely. There were enough rooms for each of you to get your own, one was just significantly smaller than the other two. Lena had volunteered to take the space immediately, claiming she didn’t mind the lack of closet space or squeaky door.

Lena never had it in her to mind anything like that, she always just brushed it off and said it didn’t bother her one bit. She told you she was just excited to live with her two sisters, making you cry on the spot and tell her how much you appreciated her. Sydney would have taken the small room, she just wouldn’t have been happy about it and somehow both you and Lena knew she would find closet space one way or another.

“I can’t wait for Joe Burrow to be sitting in my kitchen,” said Lena, letting Sydney spoon ice cream into her mouth now. “Or what about when you guys are fucking–”

“Lena!” You took the pillow you had been yelling into and pressed it into your flaming cheeks.

“Okay wait, answer honestly and don’t be modest. How big?” she swallowed, clasping her hands together in front of her, ready to inch them apart. “Tell me when to stop.”

“You’re both insufferable!”

Lena, however, only continued to move her hands apart from each other with wide eyes when you still hadn’t said to stop. She hit the solid length, you nearly wheezed the word out with tears freely streaming down your face as all three of you clutched your abdomens in hysterics and girlish giggles.

“Do you need a third or what?” Sydney joked, already having pulled Joe’s Instagram up to stalk for the millionth time.

“Obviously,” you gave her a playful once over and winked, sending the three of you into fits of laughter again.

⋆------------⋆

Practices leading up to the next preseason game against the Giants were brutal. Coaches were through with putting up with excuses and mistakes, leaving most of you on the team crying by the end of the night. When they wanted you to suffer, you suffered. Some of the senior girls who had been cheering with the team for a few years tried their best to ease the anxieties of the less-veteraned girls.

Everything hurt, all the time. Your back and legs mostly, but the soreness in your thighs and glutes made even warmups painful.

“Y/N!” Coach Traci’s voice bellowed. “What are you doing with your arms? How many times have I told you that if you can’t get this, I’m moving you back for our sideline dance sequences so you’re less visible?”

“Multiple times,” your voice came out as a little more than an embarrassed squeak. “I’m sorry, Coach.”

“Don’t be sorry, be better.”

You had to get your mind straight, shaking off the criticism and putting everything into the next time you ran the dance. Coach Traci nodded at you, the only acknowledgement of improvement that you would get for tonight. After the shitshow that was the Cardinals game, you knew better than to balk or disrespect anyone during practices. Everyone was strung out and tired, it was during a water break when you realized Joe was perched in his usual spot, headphones around his neck and running through some easy sprints.

Good fucking god, had he heard your scolding? The thought brought you back to high school, the feeling of getting a question blatantly wrong in front of your crush or being reprimanded in front of the class for talking too loudly during a lesson. That same flutter of uneasiness left you feeling uncomfortable within your own skin, distracted again but pushing the thoughts aside in order not to repeat the whole embarrassing ordeal.

Joe was doing his absolute best job of casually sitting in on as many cheer practices as possible. The last thing he wanted was to cause trouble for either of you, but he would have been lying if he said he wasn’t using the fact that he is who he is to do his workouts wherever he wanted around the facility without a second glance from anyone. There were very few people meandering around, telling Joe what to do. With his injury, he was just now getting back into light conditioning and drill work so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to remain at the stadium to workout after practice had ended. He was watching from the sidelines most practices, occasionally being able to do a few workouts and passing the football around while everyone ran plays.

He would take advantage of the opportunity to watch you while it was the most inconspicuous.

Practice unsurprisingly went late. Joe had disappeared back inside at some point, to finally go home you assumed. Once you were heaving and your body felt like pure jelly, you were finally allowed to go and grab your things and head in to shower. There were two text messages from Joe, delivered fifteen minutes prior.

Joe: Text me when you’re done

Joe: Actually do you wanna do what you gotta do and meet me in our locker room??

This boy is genuinely idiotic if he thinks you’re just waltzing into the team locker room, facility still far from emptied out. You ignored the messages until you got into your own locker room, sitting on a bench and shaking your head at his idea once again. Joe had absolutely nothing to lose here, that much was obvious from the start. You were a completely different story, though.

Y/N: Joe omg

Y/N: There are cameras everywhereeeeeeeee

Y/N: Can you just call me later?

Joe: No

Joe: Just go around the long way, don’t take the hall Emily’s office is on and come around from the other side.

When you didn’t respond right away, he texted again.

Joe: The security camera isn’t facing the door, it’s facing who comes down that main hallway

Joe: I swear no one is gonna see you, the cameras will literally only get you taking a different hallway to walk out of the building and we can leave out of different doors

Y/N: You’re actually insane

Y/N: How do you even know what ways the camera faces???

Joe: I just walked out of the locker room and looked

Joe: I basically walked the whole thing, everyone went home

Joe: Obviously not your team but yk what I mean, your coaches office is on the complete other side of the building

Y/N: Go home, Joe :)

Joe: Please

Your thumbs hovered over the letters ‘N’ and ‘O’, but there was a part of you that couldn’t deny how excited the idea of seeing him again made you. The sneaking around had your gut twisting in a way that had all of your rational thoughts going right out the door. You’re pathetic, you told yourself as you glanced over your shoulder to make sure no one watched you type your next message.

Y/N: You need to see me so bad that you’re saying please?

Joe: Desperately

Y/N: Oh you’re good lmao

Joe: So I’ll see you in fifteen

Liking the message, you put your head in your hands for a moment and huffed a laugh as you finally turned on the shower and stripped yourself of the now sweaty practice clothes. Most of the girls showered at home after night practices, so only a few remained readying to leave. You took your time, double shampooing and ensuring as many people as possible had departed from the practice facility.

“Good night, girl!” Carolina called out, walking out the door and leaving only you.

“Night, Carol!”

With shaky breaths, you brushed your wet hair once again and looked into the mirror. You had no makeup on and wore shorts and a Bengals hoodie now, which did nothing for your confidence as you walked out of the locker room with your bag in hand and cast your eyes downward. In your attempts to look unsuspicious, you took the long back hallway that wrapped around the inside of the stadium. There was the muffled sound of the janitors' speakers, but they were far from where you were and each office and support center looked desolate and left for the night.

The door to the players’ locker room was slightly ajar, leaving you to glance around again and double check Joe’s camera assessment. He was right, there was a camera on the end of the hallway, but it faced the opposite direction and caught whoever took the main entrance inside of this part of the building. Quickly, you slipped into the much nicer locker room and shut the door behind you.

“That was twenty-five minutes,” Joe’s voice sounded from behind you.

“This is a stupid idea,” you cast him a playfully annoyed glance and locked the door behind you, turning to find him in shorts and a black T-shirt. “You’re a really bad influence, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told,” he walked towards you with such ease that you wouldn’t have believed he was just bed-ridden from surgery. His fingers found the hem of your hoodie, smirking down at you in his usual arrogantly charming manner. “I’m still glad you came, though. Even if I compromise your moral judgment so badly.”

He is so fucking hot, you thought as he continued fiddling with your sweatshirt. How is it possible to have this much sex appeal? How is it humanly possible for anyone to resist a look like his? Your entire body was on fire, swallowing hard and wondering once again how you wound up here with him.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed. “I know I keep saying that and you’re probably sick of it. It’s true, though.”

The pads of his thumb and index finger brushed your bare torso, the circular motion leaving you breathing a bit heavier. His touch was less feverish than usual, more gentle and fleeting like he wanted you to know how much he wanted you. Hardly blinking, you let the tense silence guide you towards him in a way that left you practically flush against each other. Joe’s breathing hitched, giving you those sultry bedroom eyes and stupid smirk.

This time it was you who could no longer resist, kissing him softly as if to say that you, too, could not stop thinking of him. He slid his arms around your lower back, allowing you to wrap yours around his neck. Your back arched slightly at the long kiss, his right hand lowering to grab your ass and squeeze. He somehow maneuvered the two of you farther into the locker room between open-mouth, breathy kisses. Your back collided with the wall to the right of the sequence of open lockers, his mouth on your neck and biting gently at the skin of your collarbone.

He pulled your hoodie off, throwing it somewhere behind him. Your fingers found his hair, tugging as he marked your chest up ravenously. A problem for later, you pushed the thought away and let your head roll to the side as he palmed both of your breasts through the fabric of your sports bra, occasionally leaving a hum of pleasure against the soft skin between your breasts. He kissed down your stomach and held you roughly by one hip, sinking to his knees looking up at you asking permission.

“Did you know this was going to happen when you texted me?” You teased, still holding onto him by his hair.

“When I texted you,” he started, letting out a breathy chuckle. “I prayed to god that this would happen, but I figured you were gonna tell me to fuck off.”

With a playful shove of his head, you looked away with blazing skin and blown pupils. Joe pulled down your shorts in one quick motion, running his hands down your hips and thighs with a lustful expression. He kissed you over the fabric of your underwear, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. There was no denying the arousal dripping from you, wetting your panties, leaving Joe to raise an eyebrow and flash you an egotistical grin. A breathy moan escaped you and he stopped, causing a near-whimper to come from you.

“Quiet, baby,” he chided softly, “I need you to be quiet or we’re both fucked.”

The fact that he had called you baby was something to dissect tomorrow, you only inhaled sharply at his words. He looked up at you again with hair falling over his forehead, “can you be quiet for me?”

If he kept looking at you like that, you would do just about anything for him. You gave him a nod and he kneaded the flesh of your thigh now, finally pulling your underwear down and discarding them carelessly. He wrapped your right leg around his shoulder, on his knees before you.

“Can’t say that I’m complaining at this sight, right where you belong,” you whispered, cheekily.

“You’re hilarious,” he rolled his eyes and pinched your backside. “I’m on my knees for you anytime, just say the word.”

He didn’t give you even a second to respond, tonguing you with such desperation that your toes curled the second he put his mouth on you. Your slick had already coated his mouth and chin, his tongue running between your folds as his nose brushed the bundle of nerves. You struggled to keep quiet, eyes squeezing shut as you rocked your hips into his mouth and relished in each breathy moan that escaped him and reverberated against your center.

His thumb went to your clit, rubbing feverishly at the bud and watching you turn to putty in his hands. Your legs began to shake violently, wondering how much longer you could stand the tight coiling in your belly. One of your hands remained in his hair, the other gripped the hard wall for any semblance of steadying as he devoured you.

He grunted against you, picking up his pace and letting his hands explore as you bit back each and every sound you wished to make. He steadied you as you came undone, panting and unable to move or see. Stars clouded your vision, black spots causing you to close your eyes and breathe for a moment as you regained feeling of your body again.

The handle of the door shook, someone was trying to get in.

“Fuck,” you whispered at Joe, who was already carefully dropping your leg and reaching back to grab your shorts and hoodie.

You slid the shorts on, throwing the hoodie over your head and letting Joe silently lead you farther back into the locker room where the showers were. He gave you a look that said to sit tight and make no noise. He didn’t look nearly as nervous as you, legs still gelatin and causing you to have to lean back against the wall to ensure your balance.

“Anyone in there?” A man’s voice sounded, muffled slightly from the distance now between you and the door.

“Yeah!” Joe called out as casually as possible, he sauntered over to the door and flicked the lock and opened it. A janitor stood before him, cart beside him to clean. “Hey, Phil. I stayed late tonight, I don’t know why I locked the door. Must’ve been a reflex.”

Phil nodded slowly, he looked into the locker room and saw it all emptied out. Joe rubbed the back of his neck, swallowing and waiting for the man to say something. Phil only coughed and averted his eyes when he saw the lilac underwear balled up on the floor. He met Joe’s eyes and muttered that he’d come back around once he left, but not to be more than ten more minutes. Joe gave him a gracious thanks and sighed in relief as the man retreated down the hallway and brought his cart into another room, shutting the door behind him and turning his radio up considerably louder than he’d ever heard him play it.

“You can come out now,” he said, turning around and seeing the panties on the ground. He had no clue if Phil had seen them, but he also had no doubt that Phil was no busybody or gossip at his ripe age of at least seventy.

“Do I get to keep these?” He asked as you came out from the showers, holding them up and smirking.

“Did I or did I not say that this was a stupid idea?”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

once again, let me know to be taken off of or added to the taglist

taglist - @humannoodlesoup @nikkisimps @teasandcrumpets @chmpgnnlace @hummusxx @rivivie @madsblogsstuff @nngkay @raeofsunshine629 @siutforjjmaybank @alternativemadchen @ryiamarie @ohreggieboy @coldheartedmar @obsessed-fan-alert @buckystwilight @dessxoxsworld @manic-pixie-bitch2 @hallecarey1 @heyitskay-21 @joselyn001 @stylesyourmine @toterry @countryday @adventuremood @blu3jeanbaby @sriusun @mikeyspinkcup @kittyhorror777 @riverdalexvixens @hornyforherbert @nhlbabes @unsaidjaelinrose @joselyn001 @littlelou22

#joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow smut #joe burrow imagines #joe shiesty #joe burrow angst #joe burrow x yn #joe burrow blurb #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow fic

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hcuyk · 9 months

Text

SYNOPSIS : changmin loves you. the happier ending to kidult

PAIRING : daycareworker!changmin x genderneutral!reader

GENRES : established relationship, daycare au, angst, fluff, features the boyz as children

WARNINGS : mentions of car accident and child neglect

TEASER WORD COUNT : 329

ESTIMATED WORD COUNT : 7-10k

ESTIMATED RELEASE DATE : within the next week. i lied its coming out when i get time cause why tf is my college doing sm

TAGLIST : @stealanity @yourjaylaks @wooyoung-a @kimaya2209 @armysantiny @changminurheart @moonieric @sunfics @deputyjuyeon @simpforsunwoo @nyujjan @i6swoo @karsohn @nilesig @twentysixofmays @changmin-wrlds @mavericsohn @lisori @nanamioo @enhacolor @kyswoo @sunwoahkim @jaerisdiction @yunkiwii @ja4hyvn @choielyssa @crazywittysassy @yenart @sleepymoon27 @st1ngrayz — lmk if you want to be added!

A/N : to all the patient people who stuck with me for two years and waited for this very moment. i never thought this was going to happen, but here we are. jeonghan's teaser will release twelve hours from now

K. COLLECTION [J.CM] ONE | TWO

Tears began to stream down your face, unable to hold them back, and you were thankful Changmin missed it, but when you heard him apologize, you turned around and snapped at him.

“What the hell do you even want?”

“I want to talk to you.”

“You had two weeks to talk to me!” you yelled, fighting the loudness of the rain. The stream of tears ran faster down your cheeks as you brought a hand to your forehead, shielding the rain from getting into your eyes.

“I tried!”

“By knocking on my door for an hour straight at two in the fucking morning?! You could’ve called! You have a key!”

“Well it’s not like you tried either—”

“I got hit by a car!” you screamed, storming towards him as the sky reflected your mood. The thunder was just as loud as the pounding in your heart, and the rain poured just as much as your tears. You pushed Changmin, and behind him you saw a crack of lightning. Your vision started to blur as you didn’t hold back your sobs, wanting to show him the pain he’d inflicted on you ever since he left.

“I got hit by a car, Changmin! What about you? Were you hit by a car?! A truck? Perhaps a plane?” You forced out a manic laugh before continuing. “Wait, no, don’t tell me. Let me guess,-”

“Y/N—”

“-mauled by a bear?”

“I can explain-”

“Tell me I’m goddamn overreacting.” You took a step forward, and instead of pushing him again, you stared, making him look at the pain he created. “Tell me I’m overreacting, Jichang. Look me in my eyes and say it loud and clear.”

“I knew you’d be there for me.”

“I missed you, I needed you-”

“I know.”

“The day I lose you is the day I lose myself.”

“I don’t want you to wake up and realize I’m not the one for you. I don’t want that for us.”

it isn't a vae fic if there isn't angst Y'ALL AREN'T ESCAPING 👹👹 if i take longer than a week with this fic, i'll post a second (happier) teaser

it's been two years guys!! i'll be surprised if anyone sees this at all. if you do, please reblog and share, or even give me some support/hype in the comments. i want everyone who wanted a happy ending to see this <3

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abbyromanoff · 1 year

Note

omg i love kate bishop and there isn’t a lot of stuff on her could you do something fluffy with her? like maybe she returns from a mission with clint and when she gets home they’re both so happy to be back together again and reader is so relieved she’s okay and it’s just fluffy and soft and then have soft sex? bonus if kate could be g!p cause whew🥵

First time for everything

Pairings: g!p Kate Bishop x reader

Summary: The two of you share a nice relaxing evening until it ends with sloppy make outs and a first time for something new

Word count: 1,594

Warnings: fluff, smut, blowjobs, Kate is g!p (has a penis) if you don’t like it just don’t read

No one has permission to steal, copyright, or reblog my work as their own!!

Checking your phone for the hundredth time you looked to see if Kate texted you back. You’ve messaged her twenty three times over the past two hours, some may say you’re overreacting but when your girlfriend hasn’t responded to a single one of them and is on a mission you have a reason to be worried. Hearing the door to your apartment open you jumped on the couch and ran over to greet your girlfriend. Before she could even fully walk into the building your arms were wrapped around her in a hug. She returned it with a squeeze to your body that lifted you off of your feet, something her dad always did before he passed away.

“Looks like someone missed me.” She said as she put you down, laughing along the way.

“Of course I missed you! I sent you many texts and yet you didn’t respond to a single one I was so worried.” You said as you lightly slapped her shoulder and gave her a pout.

“Oh crap, I’m sorry my phone died a few hours ago when I was about to text you.” She looked truly sorry and you almost felt bad for her.

“Kate what did I tell you about charging your phone? Why do you think I bought you that portable charger?” You ended with a chuckle and you both walked into the kitchen to have the pizza you ordered twenty minutes ago. You were lucky she got here when she did or else it would’ve been a cold pizza night. You both settled onto the couch as you turned on the most recent episode of the show you two binge together.

“I seriously can’t believe it took them that long to get together I mean have you seen the way they look at one another? They’re clearly in love and now this random guy wants to take that away and he’s not even good looking like it’s an obvious answer.” You rambled on about a love triangle between three characters in the show as Kate stared at you with love in her eyes. When you finally finished your small debate you looked over to see if Kate had an opinion only to see her still staring at you.

“What are you looking at?” You asked with a teasing smirk.

“Just admiring the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.” She says, smiling as the way you blush.

“Oh?” “Mhm. And I’m just thinking about how lucky I am to be their girlfriend.”

“Well they sound pretty amazing.” You say, flattered by all of her kind words. You don’t know what you did to deserve someone as nice and beautiful as her, yet she wonders the same about you.

She nods along with your words, “They are. They have the most amazing smile and is probably the nicest person you’ll ever meet. They’re always worried about other people, I mean they could literally be bleeding to death but they’ll always make sure you’re okay first. And let me tell you, they have the nicest ass you’ll ever see.” You broke into a fit of giggles at her last sentence. She joined you and the two of you sat there laughing on the couch with nothing but the tv lighting up the room. Once the two of you calmed down you stared into one another’s eyes.

Kate continued with what she was saying before, “And, I love them so much.”

“I think I should meet this lucky partner of yours.” You wondered if this is how she described you to everyone, especially Clint or Yelena. Even if you didn’t know it, she would go on rambles about you to Clint who was just trying to get the mission done. Even if she was taking a guy down she would talk into the ear piece about you. Clint didn’t understand how she never ran out of things to say, but as he said she’s got a case of young love.

“Hmmm, I don’t know, you might end up falling in love with them too.” She said as you pulled her into a kiss, savoring the feeling of her lips on your own. You both made out for a few minutes, taking occasional breaks to breathe and then going back to one another’s lips. You felt her hand shyly going under your shirt and playing with the back of your bra. You broke apart from the kiss to take of your shirt, letting her also take off your bra. She admired your chest, leaning in to take one in her mouth until she stopped,

“Can I?” She always asked permission before she did something to you, saying she always needed consent. You nodded and she dove in, taking your nipple in her mouth. You let out a content sigh as she focused on pleasing you. Taking her hair in your hands you gave her a light massage and lightly scratched at her scalp, she let out a moan with her mouth still full of you. You moved one of your hands down to her sweatpants and cupped her bulge through the pants. Once she finished toying with one breast she moved onto the other, sucking and licking all over. You laid her down and pulled down her bottoms finding Christmas boxers underneath.

“Really?” You laughed, “What? They’re cute don’t you think?” You rolled your eyes playfully and went to take off her shirt as well.

“They’re absolutely adorable Katey.” It was a nickname you often called her. She’d act like she hated it but you saw the red on her cheeks whenever you said the title. Pulling off her Christmas sweater you noticed that she lacked a bra seeming as when she got home she changed into more comfortable clothing. You started to lightly grind on her crotch, making contact with her confined cock beneath her boxers. You leaned down and sloppily made out with each other while you guys’ hands roamed around the others body. You leaned back to look at her, now seemingly nervous.

“Do you remember that thing you wanted to try out?” You asked her, trying not to say the actual word as you were too embarrassed.

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that.” She said truthfully. There has been many things she has wanted to try that you haven’t got to yet. When you both met she was still a virgin and when you two had your first time she discovered multiple things she wanted to do with you.

“You know like,” you let out a sigh before continuing, “How you said you’ve always wanted to see what a blowjob felt like?” The both of you were pretty ‘vanilla’, never really trying out considerably kinky stuff but instead sticking to her fucking your pussy. You both were too nervous to bring things like this up but you wanted to try it.

“Yeah?” “Well, would you want me to give you one?” You were hoping she’d say yes so this wouldn’t have to be even more awkward. When she gave an excited nod you leaned down to her boxers, giving a light kiss to her bulge. Her hips jerked when your lips made contact with her dick, even through the boxers she could feel almost a tingling sensation. Dragging down her undergarment you grabbed her cock in your hand and slowly jerked her off watching how she reacted to it. When seeing her throw her head back you knew to take the next step and wrapped your lips around the head. All she felt was warmth wrap around her tip, you continued to jerk her off to make up for rest of her cock that wasn’t in your mouth. You started to take a bit more of her length down your throat as her hips thrusted side to side overwhelmed with pleasure. She didn’t know where to put her hands so she awkwardly placed them on your head, making you gag as she accidentally pushed you to take more. She was immediately apologizing and taking her hands off of your head but you released her from your mouth to inform her that you were fine. When she got the okay to guide you on her length she started to bring you up and down slowly. Fearing that she’d hurt you again she didn’t make you take much but when you went down further on your own command she almost exploded on the spot. She gained the confidence and made you go down on her even when you gagged. She soon couldn’t take it anymore and came in your mouth without warning. You swallowed it all and went back up to look at her.

“Shit I’m sorry I didn’t mean to cum that fast. I was going to warn you but it just happened.” “Shh, it’s okay. I liked it, but the question is did you like it?” You said the last part a little lower hoping she did in fact enjoy it and you weren’t doing anything wrong.

“Are you really asking me that? That was the best thing ever! Well besides when I fuck your pussy I mean that is definitely the best thing but-“ you cut off her rambling with a kiss that she melted into. She leaned her head on yours when you both broke apart, ‘I love you’s’ were whispered into one another as you both sat in comfortable silence. She leaned back a bit to look you in the eyes still slightly panting,

“Can I fuck your pussy now?”

#kate bishop #kate bishop x gender neutral reader #kate bishop x you #kate bishop x reader #smut #kate bishop smut #kate bishop fluff #anon ask

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everlastlady · 7 months

Text

𝐌𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮.

✰ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Hello! My little heroes, villains, and civilians. Another Miguel O 'Hara post. If you enjoyed this story then my request box is open. You can support me by blazing, commenting, hearts, or reblogging. Don't forget to eat, drink water, and take your medicine. Also support your local fan fiction writers! If you want to be on the Miguel tag list then let me know. Also I wrote this because I suffer from seizures so this is a comfort story and hopefully it comforts those who suffer from seizures.

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: (Name) suffers from seizures and their lovely boyfriend Miguel does his best to help their partner. He cares for (Name) and wants to make sure they are always safe. Always keeping an eye on them and having Lyla watched them while he's gone, he is always prepared when you have a seizure.

〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎

♡ Miguel met you at a coffee shop, the two of you ordered the same drink which striked up a conversation. The two discussed which coffees you both loved and hated. Miguel loved the little laugh you did here and there. Something about you made him smile. Miguel listened to you talk about your favorite bands and singers. Your favorite colors and how you enjoy a nice book while it rains. Miguel had to go but you two exchanged numbers.

♡ The two of you would text every night. Miguel would lay in bed in his blue and red boxers while texting you, letting out chuckles at the funny gifs and memes you would send. Lyla would have to remind him to sleep and then have to wake him up in the morning because he was over sleeping. You and Miguel never stopped texting, always telling each other about your day, venting to each other, or sometimes phone calls.

♡ But one day you didn't text Miguel and that worried him. You never miss a texting session with him. Maybe you were busy and he was just overreacting. So he went to bed that night but the next morning no calls or text none of those funny cat memes you sent him. He hoped that he didn't do anything to upset you. So he called your number but no answer, this made Miguel panic. So he had Lyla track your location by using your phone number.

♡ " Oh, you aren't going to like this Miguel, (Name) is in the hospital... " Lyla said looking worried. Just the word hospital made Miguel rush out the door as Lyla gave him the location of the hospital. Miguel went to the front desk he had to lie and say that he was your husband and has been worried about you. Miguel was told your hospital room and went there. Miguel saw you laying in the bed and watching TV, you saw Miguel in your doorway and sat up surprised. " Miguel? " You spoke in a tired tone.

♡ " Mi querida, estaba preocupado, what happened? " Miguel sat on your bed and took your hand into his and gave it a gentle squeeze. You bite your lip and sighed, guess it was time to tell him and you hoped that he wouldn't see you differently. " I had a real bad seizure at work I had falling when grabbing something for a customer and hit my head, had another seizure on the way here... " You looked away as Miguel's brown eyes widened. " Why didn't you tell me that you have seizures!? " He placed his hand on your cheek. You explained to Miguel that you didn't want him to look at you different as some disease or a fragile flower. " (Name), I know about seizures and I know that what you have isn't a disease and even though you have seizures I won't treat as some fragile flower, I'll watch you closely, protect, and check on you but I won't treat you like some fragile little flower. I care about you, I was scared and worried. " Miguel hugged you.

♡ Miguel sat with you as the two of you talked. You told Miguel that you had been having seizures since you were a kid how people made fun of you growing up and treated your condition like a virus that could spread or how some people treated you like a fragile flower. You told him about the medicine you took and what triggered you seizures, and how you relaxed after having one. Miguel made a mental note of everything. He wanted to be there for you. After you were released from the hospital Miguel took you home. He liked your cozy apartment it really reflected your personality.

♡ Miguel stayed around since he wanted to make sure you were okay, so he stood outside your bathroom while you took a shower and when you were getting dressed. He cooked a nice meal for you. He even did some house work, normally you didn't really want someone doing these things for you especially after having a seizure but Miguel doing it made you smile, so you laid in bed eating while Miguel cleaned your living room and kitchen.

♡ After a while Miguel laid in the bed with you as the two of you watched a movie on Netflix. Miguel didn't mind that you cuddled up to him since you were his best friend. Miguel would look down to see your eyes on the TV enjoying the movie. Sometimes Miguel would rest his arm on your leg or hip. Which his touches made you blush. The two of you would shift into different positions and soon you had your head on his chest and Miguel had his arms wrapped around you. Miguel looked down at you but this time your eyes weren't on the film but were on him. The two of you stared at each other for a couple of seconds before kissing.

♡ " Te amo " Miguel mumbles against your soft lips. The two of you pulled apart and smiled. Miguel held you close, this felt right and he didn't want to let you go so he asked you out on a date which you accepted. Miguel wanted this date to be perfect so he spent days trying to plan it, even asked Jess and Peter for help; which Jess and Peter were surprised that big scary Miguel found someone but they were glad to see him happy and not work himself to death or bury his emotions so they helped even Hobie was going to play a part.

♡ The date was today and right now, you looked in the mirror and admired the outfit you choose for the date and hoped Miguel liked it. Speaking of Miguel when he arrived to pick you up, he brought you flowers and a basket of your favorite snacks. Miguel took you on a rooftop date, he made your favorite meal and dessert. The fairy lights were beautiful. " I hope you love it my luz. " Miguel kissed your cheek and pulled out your chair. He pushed in your seat. You looked over to see a tall man dressed in black ripped jeans and a band t-shirt. He was playing a sweet melody on his guitar. " That's Hobie, he's a uh co-worker and is doing a favor by playing for us. " Miguel said as he pours you a glass of your favorite beverage.

✰ The date went as planned. You and Miguel talked, ate, danced, and shared a few kisses. Jess and Peter watched from a far and took care of any crime so that Miguel wouldn't have to leave or have the date ruined. You didn't know he was Spiderman and he was scared to tell you. He didn't want you scared or see him differently. After the date, Miguel took you home and you laid in bed giggling and feeling all sorts of emotions. Miguel himself was happy the date went well. Lyla herself teased Miguel all night.

✰ Eventually you moved in Miguel which made him happy because he could make sure that you whenever you had a seizure him or Lyla was around. Though whenever he talked about Lyla, he would explain that it just a security system so you never saw Lyla. Miguel would pick up your medicine or remind you to take it every morning and night. He would keep your stress levels low and whenever he was away at the society, he had Lyla keep him update on your health levels and track every pill you took.

✰ Part 2: (Name) finds out Miguel is Spiderman?

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x you #miguel spiderman #headcanons #headcanon #creative writing #writers #writer #my writing #writing #everlasting writes🪻

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earth616variant · 1 year

Text

language! | s.r

summary | As someone who came in a much different era, you are still adjusting to the new practices. Including, hearing curse words everywhere in the compound.

pairing/s | steve rogers x reader, avengers x reader

word count | 1388

genres | humor/crack, very small fluff, time travel au

note | another drabble for the send-off. i really enjoyed writing this. let me know your thoughts! reblogs and feedback are appreciated.

main masterlist | series masterlist

It was a late Thursday night. You were in the living room, reading a novel you bought with Steve and Wanda days ago. Peter was also in the room. He was sitting on the carpeted ground next to the center table in front of you, doing some kind of presentation for his class and you don’t really understand it. It has something to do with his accessible, small computer. A laptop! You remembered he called it that.

It was pretty peaceful and quiet. The only sound that can be heard is the kid’s fingers typing on the keyboard and the soft, cool blows of the air conditioner. You were finishing a chapter of this book when you heard a…

“Oh, fuck.”

Instantly, you turned your head up from the book. Peter paused too. You two turned your heads in the direction of where that curse came from. That’s when you see the culprit.

“Steve!”

The First Avenger, who’s holding a tray of drinks, looked up at you.His eyebrows furrowed together as he asked, “What?”

“Can you please watch your language? There is a kid in here.” you scolded him in a very serious and offended tone.

Both Steve and Peter moved their eyes around the room, looking for the kid you were pertaining to.

“What kid?” he replied, both curious and defensive.

You lift a finger, pointing to the other person in the room, “Peter’s here. Adults don’t curse around minors. Apologize to him.”

Hearing that, both Peter’s eyebrows raised.

“What? No– Dr. Y/N, it’s fine–”

“No, that was inappropriate.”

Considering your era, Steve definitely understands your slight disappointment with the language he just used. It was less socially acceptable in the 40s to swear. He remembered scolding Tony before because of the same thing when he was still adjusting to this century. So Steve sighed,

“I’m sorry.”

“I-It’s no problem, Cap.” Peter stutters, surprised that the older man really apologized.

You only nodded at that, “Anyways, I’m going to my room. Good night, boys.”

You were yawning as you walked away Steve stood there dumbfoundedly with the tray of drinks. Peter just watched him, waiting for him to do something. The drinks were hot chocolate that he was supposed to offer to you and the younger hero. But since you left already, Steve looked back at Peter.

“Hot choco?”

“Strawberries?”

“No, thanks.”

That morning, you seemed a bit distant to Steve and everyone can notice it. No one knows why but Peter has an idea although he thought it was not a big deal. You also thought that maybe it’s not a big deal. But you had a hard time sleeping last night, thinking about everything that changed at this time. Swearing and a lot more things seem normal here. You wondered if you can adapt to it as you felt like an alien wandering in this new world you’re in. Admittedly, you thought that maybe you overreacted with Steve’s language. You felt guilty as you were the one who was new here, yet you still apply whatever customs you have from the 40s to him. You don’t know if you should apologize or what.

Steve quietly placed a cup of coffee next to your bowl. But you were too occupied in your head, you didn’t notice it. You stood to get yourself a glass of orange juice and Steve never looked so dejected. The other people watched silently until Tony snapped his fingers, making everyone look at him.

“Okay, what is going on?”

He was moving his eyes from you to Steve when he asked that. Your eyebrow raised while Steve stayed quiet.

The younger Stark continued, “Y/N is clearly ignoring you and you are obviously trying to be extra nice to her this morning. What happened?”

“I’m not ignoring him!” you unintentionally exclaimed.

Natasha smirked. Sam snickers with Peter while you hear Bucky chuckle lowly, shaking his head. You turned your head to Steve, “Am I?”

You were really unaware. That’s when you see his expression that says a lot: dispirited and unsure. Suddenly, another voice spoke.

“Cap cursed last night.”

Everyone turned their heads to Peter who was munching on the cookies you made the other night. It was stocked in the refrigerator.

“What?” Bruce asked since he thought he heard something else. Just like everyone in the room.

But Steve already justified himself, “It was accidental. I stubbed my toe on the corner of the counter while I was trying to do something nice.”

“What did he say? What did he say?” Tony grinned like a kid. He loved to have something new to tease Steve with.

“Peter, no,” Steve told him sternly. You were still standing with your orange juice, crossing your arm. At this point, you don’t care if he would say it since it seems normal here.

“Peter, yes.”

It was Sam who added more fuel to the fire, earning a glare from Steve. The youngest stood there in the spotlight as everyone waited for him to answer. He finished putting the Tupperware of cookies in his backpack before replying,

“He dropped the f-bomb.”

A series of laughs and amused oh’s followed. You just stood there, confused, while Steve looked down at his oatmeal.

“I’m going to school. Bye, everyone. Thanks for the cookies, doc!” Peter walked out, waving his hand.

Breakfast went on with Tony picking on Steve. You later learned from Natasha that their leader used to have a habit of telling everyone language if they say a swear word. Somehow, the weight on your shoulder lightened when you heard that story.

“So, does that means you hate dirty talks?” Tony brought up with his pancakes almost done. Pepper failed to shush him as she didn’t expect to hear that.

You tilted your head quizically, “Dirty… talks? What is that?”

Dirty talks? What does it mean? Is it a form of teasing? Bullying?

Steve stood up from his seat, putting his bowl on the sink. “You know what? It’s early in the morning. Let’s not talk about that.”

You followed behind him, placing yours too. “What? Why? What does it mean, Steve?”

His jaw clenched and you can see his cheeks slowly showing a tint of pink. He meets your eyes for a quick second before looking away. Everyone in the room is silent too. Don’t they know what it means? You wondered.

“Yeah, Cap. Tell Dr. Y/N about it.” Tony spoke with what seemed like a mocking tone.

“Shut up, Stark.”

Steve held your hand and dragged you away from the kitchen while you remained baffled.

Just days later, you were baking another batch of cookies with Peter waiting on the kitchen counter as your personal food taster. The other are out for their own mission, including Steve, while a few were taking a rest in their respective rooms. The Spider-kid, you heard it is what Sam calls him, was grinning and clapping on his seat like a seal as you two heard the sound of the oven.

You were too excited that you only reached for one oven mitten, thinking you can get the hot baking tray with a single hand. But just when one of the cookies looks like it’s going to slide out of the tray, you instinctively pushed it back with your bare finger. Immediately feeling the burn on your skin, you dropped the tray— thankfully on the kitchen island.

“Fuckshit!” you exclaimed before you put that finger in your lips as if that would help.

You were still recovering from the shock and hurt when you notices Peter’s surprised stare and blushed cheeks. As you realized what just happened, you slowly put down your fingers. The boy can see your jaw gaping as your eyes widened before hiding your face in your hands. He was having a blast, holding his stomach as he laughed.

“You–”

Before he can finish any sentence he was going to say, you shushed him off.

“You heard nothing, kid!” you spoke as you point your index finger at him. You cannot stop yourself from smiling as you tell him that. “I’ll continue feeding you my baked goods if you say heard nothing.”

Peter grinned, stifling a laugh, “I… heard nothing, Doctor Y/N.”

That’s how an accomplice was born.

THE SEND-OFF TAGLIST

@supraveng @sunflower-golden-vol6 @curi0usc4t @caitlyn-who @bitchy-bi-trash @stilltoomuchafangirl @matisse556 @ladybug05 @sunwoahkim @meanttobea @j69confessional2 @thenyxsky @swthxrry @justab-eautifulmess @7minutes-tomidnight @curlycarley @thefalconandthewinterwidowshield @wisepenguin @shatfairy @coffeeshub @stillthatbetch @cosmicgirls-things @sabrinaselina55 @mediocre-m @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @mrsjaderogers @themerc-with-a-mouth @slutdreams @royalwritersoftheuniverses @yunloyal @avengersinitiative2012 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @madnessinwrighting @lilizia @saintmagx @evanswife1918 @saranghaey @animegirlgeeky @t-stark35 @ameliabs-world @seijaelee

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@rosedpetal

#steve rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers angst #1940s steve #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers au #steve rogers series #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers time travel au #avengers x reader #avengers fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans fic #chris evans angst #chris evans fluff #the send off steve rogers

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drconstellation · 4 months

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First-Order Archangels

Part 2: Foils of War

This post follows on from Part 1: Maybe You'll See An Archangel

In Part 1 of this meta we looked at some parallels between Gabriel and Crowley that were being shown to us in S2. This time we are going to focus on the differences, as well as some parallels between their partners, Beelzebub and Aziraphale.

A foil is a character who contrasts with the protagonist, to highlight or differentiate certain qualities between the characters. Crowley and Gabriel do this because they have come from essentially the same place, and share some story elements, but they still end up in different places.

Lets start with their first meeting in S2.

There's a couple of things about this scene worth noting. The first is Crowley's reaction. In my honest opinion, this is seems a a bit of an overreaction, even considering what happened during the body swap scenes. The reaction is more about something that happened to Crowley himself, not to Aziraphale, and my guess is its something to do with Crowley's Fall. But what exactly happened at that point, I can't say.

The second is the white bust. It does look like it is passing some kind of judgment on Gabriel there, and they are perfectly aligned in the shot-blocking, just as they were aligned over Crowley's shoulders before he turned around and saw Gabriel in the GIF above. (Yep. Go back and take a close look - Gabriel sits on Crowley's right shoulder, and the bust sits right on his left.)

I talked about what it represented here in Part 1 of Gabriel as a Shoulder Angel: S2 Study

This bust is identified in the meta A. Z. Fell & Co. bookshop and its statues by @youryurigoddess as the Head of the Victorious Athlete. The op applies an interpretation in context to Aziraphale but seeing how we get Gabriel posed next to it twice, perhaps we should have a closer look at what it might be trying to tell us about this angel as well. The op says: "The presented athlete is victorious because he’s the epitome of the Platonic Triad of higher Forms: Truth, Beauty, and Excellence, understood in the wider context of the Greek Aretē."

Arete is a nebulous concept, and while it meant one thing in the earlier post it is trying to convey a slightly different message here. Its about combining a number of qualities to live up to your best potential of excellence. Such a person would be displaying the highest levels of strength, courage and wit. Having been confronted with Gabriel unexpectedly, Crowley has just lost his wits and courage - for a moment, at least.

Gabriel, still stripped down and presented to us in a basic, classical style of robing, is dealing with one of the other aspects of arete. "See, told you I looked like a Gabriel," he says, standing on the angelic right-side. Truth is virtue, truth is knowledge, and in arete virtue is knowledge as well.

In vino veritas means "In wine, there is truth." It refers to the fact that people under the influence of alcohol tend to speak without filters.

We've already talked about one meaning for the red horse on the wine bottle Crowley obtains to do some thinking with once he's hit with Nina's comment about people's love lives in S2E5. Yes, everything on that table right there is about love. But if you read all the reblogs on that post-thread, a number of people also mention that red horses are connected to War (as in the third Horseperson of the Apocalypse that didn't happen - their horse, if they had one, is supposed to be red.)

Firstly, the date on the bottle impossibly old for reality (believe me, you will not find a bottle that old in a little cafe like that, not matter where you are) so it is more likely a fictional date to refer us to the year before WWII started, the last peaceful year for most people before widespread war broke out (hmm, a bit of foreshadowing there, maybe?)

Secondly, and more importantly, Crowley pauses to pick up the bottle with the passionate red horse of War* on it to take it with him when he goes to talk to Gabriel.

Oh, I'm not here to make peace, Crowley declares as he enters the room - look at the way he turns the label to face Gabriel as he enters - I'm here to do battle. Isn't that what you wanted, Gabriel?

(If you go back to the scene blocking for the following sequence, you'll notice that Crowley starts on the right-side, the side of Heaven, that wants to re-start and hopefully win the War, but Gabriel, who has changed his mind, is more on Crowley's usual left-side now, wanting peace instead.)

In S1 Gabriel was the one all for starting, or more rather, continuing a war that was never concluded, but now seems to be backing away from that, and Crowley just can't work it out.

The recording of the trial in Heaven gives some explanation as to why, but not the whole reason for Gabriel's back-down on war.

He is removed from the office of Supreme Archangel for the reason of "[refusing] to exercise your celestial authority." I'll come back to this shortly.

On the other hand Crowley will fight on the spot if required but would rather avoid a prolonged war if at all possible. And he doesn't hesitate to lay down his own authority to achieve that. Astonishingly, no one in the bookshop disputes this, and he quickly takes control of the gathered celestial councils.

CROWLEY: Nobody's at war. You idiots sent an idiot to lead a gang of idiots to attack a bookshop. Those idiots there want their Archangel back so they can fire him.

Then:

MICHAEL: [clears throat]If it is to be war… CROWLEY: No, no, no, no, no war. Aziraphale, let's sort this out. Where's the cardboard box?

Crowley gets Gabriel back to his true self, rescues the mortal humans from being turned in pillars of salt, asks Aziraphale to take over from him as he leads Maggie and Nina outside, and kindly remembers to retrieve Mr Brown from wherever he was being held in Hell (he was not killed, Neil commented on a tumblr post he was merely taken to Hell and held in a cell overnight; Crowley just retrieved him from that hell hole.)

(OK, so I had something else here at first but discussion on another post at the time of writing has led me to delete it. The main aim of my argument was to show that Crowley naturally took control of the room to avert war before the Metatron showed up - and no one disputed or objected to it.)

The word "authority" is used multiple times in Ep.6, so there is some emphasis on it being important. Once the demons left, and it was just the angels talking, Michael tried to take over:

MICHAEL: I am authorized to remove the name of anyone who helped Gabriel from the Book of Life. You will never have existed, Aziraphale. In the absence of Gabriel, I am the Supreme Archangel. URIEL: Duty officer.

It wasn't the first time Michael tried to claim the position of Supreme Archangel on their own - with Uriel pushing back - and it brought to mind the famous saying "Power tends to corrupt; absolute power corrupts absolutely." I like to check the exact wording of well-known sayings such as this, because they tend to get misquoted, and I know I myself misremember them, so I was interested to find out the context behind its origin, because I think it offers an insight into one of the cut minisodes for S2 - the one that would have been set in the Vatican. The writer of said quote, Lord Acton, was making a comment on how historians should judge the abuse of power by past rulers, especially popes. Unchecked power tends to lead to abuse of said power. The Metatron arrives to put a check on Michael's grasp on power, but who's keeping a check on the Metatron if God is not talking to anyone at the moment?

Control is something Gabriel feels he has never had, even though he is nominally in charge.

BEELZEBUB: Well, you didn't win. GABRIEL: Tell me about it. Everyone in Heaven is all like, "Well, you're the commander-in-chief, can't you just make the war happen anyway?" Like, I make the rules. BEELZEBUB: [scoffs] That's exactly what my lot said. GABRIEL: Well, it's good to know there's someone who understands. Thank you. It's a pity we'll never speak again.

In S1 when Aziraphale asks Gabriel who summons the Four Horsepeople for the Apocalypse, he doesn't know, and doesn't really seem too phased about it either, as long it happens. And there are a few other times in S1 he just seems to be going with the flow as well.

The trial was probably the first time Gabriel ever got to say "no" to anybody, and ironically he was exercising his celestial authority, even though he was accused of not doing so. Up until then, he'd always been more of a yes-man.

GABRIEL: I told you you could ask. However, I am the only First-Order archangel in the room, or, you know, the Universe, so I'm not gonna answer so much. But you feel free to knock yourself out with all the asking. Anyway, Armageddon the Sequel, that's a nah.

And there is Gabriel also saying no to answering questions!

One thing I've often wondered - can Gabriel's trial offer us a look back at what happened to Crowley before his Fall?

Something, some link between Gabriel and Crowley, is implied when Gabriel states he is the only First-Order Archangel in the room. I'm not just talking about the prince of Heaven comment, but Crowley could have been put through a similar trial before his Fall and shown similar defiance? Who would dare say no to the Metatron?

Crowley has nearly always been ready to say no when necessary, since the very beginning. He said no to killing children, he said no to taking up a Duke of Hell position (so far 😉) and he said no to Armageddon, amongst other things.

The scene down in Hell with the two thrones in S2E1, where Beelzebub offers Crowley "anything [his] nasty little heart desires" has a lot of parallels with the Metatron's offer to Aziraphale and is jam-packed full of other good stuff, but I'm just going to pick out a couple of aspects here, because I promised some Beelzebub-Aziraphale parallels.

One is the implication that Crowley was an equal to Beelzebub when they were both angels when Crowley responds to the threat about the Book of Life.

The two of them sitting together, side by side, reinforces this impression of them being equals of some kind. And just as Beelzebub is an Aziraphale parallel, so Aziraphale is Crowley's equal as well - in the present day. (They're a team, a group of the two of them, an Us.)

But what about when Beelzebub gets up to face Crowley, and leaves the other throne vacant? Hmm.

So we know the second throne was supposed to be for Gabriel, who never arrived. During the course of the series it gets pushed to one side, then disappears altogether, and Beelzebub appears on a cushioned white and gold chair reminiscent of Aziraphale's chair by his desk (see below.)

Ah, on second thoughts, I'm going to leave the rest of what I was going to say here for another meta (sorry!) because it pertains more to speculation about Crowley and Aziraphale in S3. Let's move on...

BEELZEBUB: Do you ever think, wouldn't it just be nice if someone told you what a good job you're doing?

@vidavalor already covered most of this parallel here, but while Aziraphale has Crowley to fall back on, and Crowley is happy to oblige with a few words of - lets not call it a "praise kink," isn't the love language term Words of Affirmation? - now Aziraphale is not reporting to Heaven, Beelzebub hasn't. Well, Demon Josh really isn't the appropriate person to be delivering that, anyway! And part of the problem lies with the next item to be discussed. I'm wondering if Gabriel is going to need to a bit of work in that department.

We need to have a talk about the following exchange between Beelzebub and Shax towards the end of S2E4:

BEELZEBUB: Can you enter the bookshop, without permission? SHAX: Not technically, no. But give me a legion of Hell's finest troops and see what I can do. It's a chance I've been waiting for, Lord Beelzebub. To be clear, you are hereby authorizing me to storm the angel's bookshop, sending wave after wave of demons to besiege it until it falls and capture the Archangel, destroying anything and everything that stands in our way? BEELZEBUB: No. I am not authorizing you to do that. SHAX: Oh. BEELZEBUB: I am commanding you to do it. I want you there, Shax. On the ground. Bravely leading the attack into the bookshop, leading the army of the damned.

I've already mentioned that there is a bit of emphasis on the word "authorize" and "authority" in places in S2, and this is one of them. But here it has a particular context. You need to ask what the difference is between commanding someone and authorizing someone, and it turns out there is a significant difference in meaning. (No, it doesn't mean pulling out a hand-written permit from your back pocket ...)

An authorization is mere official permission for something, but a command is a directive that implies there is a hierarchy in place, and the one giving the command is the one in authority who expects compliance. This was Beelzebub reminding Shax where her place was.

Later, Aziraphale takes command of the bookshop...well, somebody has to. Or, if you don't agree its here, perhaps it will be in S3. He's definitely not at the top of either hierarchy here but this is his domain.

I think I will wrap up this meta with one last example - the two parallels reaching out for their significant others.

There are probably a few more examples that could be discussed, if enough come up in discussion I'll do another post. Otherwise, I hope you enjoyed this look from a different angel - er, angle.

"Enemies, as well as lovers, come to resemble each other over a period of time." - Sydney J. Harris

*There have a been comments lately on other posts linking Nanny Ashtoresh's name with the ancient goddess Astarte, a goddess of both Love and War, amongst other things.

This meta is part of a series on Gabriel

Gabriel as a Shoulder Angel: S1 Study

S2 Study Part 1: Ep.1 The Arrival and Ep. 2 The Clue

S2 Study Part 2: Ep.3 I Know Where I'm Going and Ep. 5 The Ball

S2 Study Part 3: Ep.6 Every Day

First-Order Archangels Part 1: Maybe You'll See An Archangel

First-Order Archangels Part 3: Seeing Eye to Eye

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #good omens analysis #crowley #gabriel #aziraphale #beelzebub #shax #michael #the metatron #red horse or war #so glad to finish this one #been nearly six weeks to get it all out

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hot-take-tournament · 7 months

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HOT TAKE TOURNAMENT!

PRELIMINARY #203

Enjoy a coriander-themed poll this pea plantin' season!

Submission 686

The cilantro soap gene doesnt exist, people are just being dramatic

look the nature of cilantro is that it does taste just a little bit like soap, and some people are just really losing their minds about it and overreacting. I really think there is no gene that makes cilantro taste different, we all taste it the same and instead should divide ourselves by those of us who are willing to learn to enjoy the herb with all its faults and those who will instead blame it on inferior genetics. People who swear up and down that it doesn't taste like soap at all are lying to themselves. We all know deep down it tastes a bit like soap but in a good way.

Cilantro is coriander.

Anyway, propaganda is always encouraged!

And remember to reblog your favourite polls for exposure!

#hot take tournament #tumblr poll #tumblr tournament #tumblr bracket #tournament poll #cilantro #coriander #pea plantin' season #food #cooking #hot take food #hot take #unpopular opinion

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mcytblr-archive · 1 month

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Early MCYTblr Interviews: georgeeehd

today's interviewee is reese/georgeeehd/lmanburg/tommyofcolor! dreamlying member, mcytblr og, and the person who discovered that dream wasn't registered to vote. below is a transcript of questions and answers!

Q: What was your experience in wider MCYTblr?

A: I don’t have much experience with wider mcytblr. Maybe I used to reblog Grian stuff on my main blog, before all this DSMP shit. There wasn’t much of a Dream community when I started posting, much less one for DreamNotFound (surprisingly, Dreamnap was the popular ship of the two early on????? so bizarre to me), so I dug out my microcosm immediately. There was never a wider myctblr for me.

Q: What was your experience in critblr/dreamlying specifically?

A: The notion that dreamlying is the spawn of critblr is interesting to me, because I agree with you now, but I wouldn’t have at the time. Critblr was a tumblr community. Dreamlying was a friend group, predating critblr. I considered myself dteamblr for a really long time— I never felt aligned with the critblr movement because that was always Jason’s territory, really. I don’t mention it to nitpick or to scold, but like, I’m into this archiving thing, too, so I wanted to opine on how we label these groups. Maybe there should be a distinction made between what we considered ourselves vs. what we actually were.

My experience in proto-critblr was pretty cushy because it was all mine. Me and my contemporaries had a following, we were respected, we had smart things to say, we were funny, established, etc. Think, “The School of Athens.” I definitely grew a bit of an ego with how popular I was, which I’m sure will come across in this interview, haha.

At times I felt a little unchallenged, like people were only agreeing with me not because I was right, but because I was saying anything at all. At the same time, I was incredibly defensive and insecure, so the little pushback I might have gotten would bother me terribly. I was probably overreactive and mean. I was fifteen then, and I’m nineteen now, so there’s lots of things I would’ve handled differently, if I could.

In terms of my experience with dreamlying, I like what Ozzie had to say. We were all just very, very good friends. There’s not much else to it. In my first discord server, “dream lying” was a hidden messaging channel where we could critique Dream Team freely. “Dream lying” was supposed to parody the phrase “dream truthing.” So we were basically this tiny little secret society, at the start. There was no way we wouldn’t have hit it off.

Q: Are there any events that stand out to you?

A: A lot. Too many. Some are more personally relevant than historically relevant, and I don’t really know where to draw the line. The voter registration fiasco was a big one, but there were other smaller things… I was always in some fuckin’ controversy or another! The magic 8 ball says, Ask again later.

Q: Was being in MCYTblr an overall positive or negative experience for you?

A: Undoubtedly positive! I don’t even know where to start with this question. I met a lot of wonderful people that I still keep in contact with today, right? But beyond that, I feel like being in this community helped me grow a lot, like, personally. I was thinking and writing a lot. I learned so, so much, about people, about the internet, about fandom, about myself. It was such an expansive experience.

I guess I should mention that my time with mcytblr was incredibly stressful. My involvement in the fandom weighed heavily on my mental health. I felt very watched, and I still do. At my worst, I was hospitalized. (I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t mention my mcyt-induced mental hospital stint in my mcyt interview.) None of that really moves me, though, ‘cause it was all just part of the experience, and I find it all pretty funny, looking back.

Q: A few people have mentioned the account mcyttruth in relation to you, specifically around a callout post. What happened there? [I had misremembered-- I meant to ask this to Jason lmanburg, not Reese lmanburg.]

A: The mcyttruth callout wasn’t about me, but my discord server, dteamblr 2. I was not as involved here— at this point, critblr was in full bloom, and this server was like a rendezvous for people who liked dreamlying and modcord blogs (modcord was another friend group, like dreamlying, but critblr-based).

Regarding that callout specifically, I don’t know. Probably, there were too many r-slurs, too many jokes about hating Ranboo, the usual. There were a lot of callouts (for me or for people I was friends with), and I never really took them seriously. I mean, honestly, the url “mcyttruth” alone is derivative. Do you know how many times I’ve read the words “mcyt” and “truth”? Everything about this is a blur to me.

Q: I suppose I would ask-- given the current events surrounding many of the creators who were popular in 2020/2021, do you feel that dreamlying has been vindicated in their criticisms of creators?

A: Yes, but I would have said yes in 2020, because who these people are was as obvious to me then as it is now. Our criticisms weren’t like, headcanons that we made up to be mean, they were plain old observations. Wilbur was openly mentally ill, creepy, and generally dismissive of other people. Not to say that there aren’t good things about him either, but, of course this is the kind of guy to make his girlfriend clean up after him. There’s a million cautionary tales about guitar stringers with floppy hair under a beanie, whiny song lyrics, and a masturbatory approach to self-loathing.

Dream’s not this person anymore, so that’s not why I bring it up, but think back to when his old Reddit account was exposed for being active on r/The_Donald. That was everything we were ever talking about! That was Dream being exactly who he was— a young white man from Florida. I love Dream, always have, always will. Acknowledging that he is/was a whole person with flaws and unsavory politics, I think, is truer fanhood than the idolization everyone puts him through.

You use the word “vindicated” to acknowledge that we were heavily criticized ourselves. Most of that was on the basis of privacy— you know, whether or not it’s okay to speculate on people’s personal lives. It doesn’t matter that we were “right” so often, that we still are, and always will be, because people will focus more on the original sin of having speculated in the first place.

I used to love vindication because it made me feel smart, like I could see things that no one else could. Now it just makes me sad. I don’t think it has anything to do with smarts, nor would I care if it did. I think people just don’t let themselves think that far. You know, “I don’t want to make assumptions,” “It’s none of my business,” “It’s not that deep,” etc. Maybe there’s no instinct to look deeper at all. It really just makes me sad.

Q: Is there anything else you'd like to add/have archived?

A: I’d like to ask everybody to stay critical. The hivemind response to recent events have shown me that this fandom remains as shallow, unthinking, conformative, elementary… as it was four years ago.

Thank you for conducting these interviews in the first place. It's nice hearing everyone’s voices again.

#early mcytblr interviews #Volume 13 #georgeeehd

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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 11 months

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I really hate to drop and run, but I’ve posted the latest update just before I step away from fandom.

It might be a couple days, it might be a couple months. I’m not sure. I’ve been receiving some anons that, as a general consensus, are telling me that I was a bully for addressing the content stealing because I have a bigger platform and the other person isn’t a native English speaker. My job was brought into it in a way I was uncomfortable with, and I was told rather rudely that it’s not anyone else’s problem that I choose to spend as much time as I do making content (which, weirdly, I don’t think I’ve ever complained about, per se). I’m being told I am a bitch, a cunt, that I should k*ll myself, that the whole thing was an overreaction, that I was wrong to call the other person out. I’m being told that all I do is stir drama, that my life must suck because I’m such an attention-seeking slut, that I’ve lied about both plagiarism cases and that I attack everyone I’m threatened by. I’m being told in anons, and even in reblogs, that I have nothing to complain about and that the other individual was justified in their behaviour. According to these anons, I’m a liar, I’m toxic, I’m the reason fandom is so awful right now, I’m a narcissist, and I should leave the fandom.

Okay, then.

I came with receipts. Even my call-out post was polite. I did not call this person out until they were rude to me and indicated they were unwilling to resolve this issue. I do not believe I should be subject to criticism and abuse for defending my work. Sure, perhaps “all fanfiction is plagiarism”, but in some instances, my work was literally taken from within mere days of posting, and in the SAME fandom for the SAME root pairing. This is not coincidental. This is not something I ever thought I would be demonised for being upset by.

I refuse to allow myself to be degraded and gaslit into minimising a problem created by another user, and mocked for having feelings over that. I was polite to this person. I was kind to this person. They proceeded to insult me, and so, with no further recourse, I took the situation public as I was recommended to do so by my fellow writers. I have never lied about this - I did publically post it when my attempt at private mediation failed. My intention was to force their hand. It worked. Is this kind? No, of course not. Was I aggressive? Yes, perhaps. But these are the wrong questions to ask.

See - why do I have to tolerate being treated unfairly? Why do I have to bite my tongue and lay down so others can walk all over me? Why is it that the fact that people follow me means I am not allowed to ever voice my upset about the manner in which I am being misused? I don’t understand - are all plagiarism call-outs “starting drama” now? I’m particularly upset by this. I do not bait drama, and I do not start shit for the fun of it. I guess there are those who think I should’ve just let them continue; after all, it’s only fanfiction. Not a big deal, right?

I was polite. Until I wasn’t. I did get angry when, after being confronted by all this, they doubled down, making several manipulative posts about me across platforms and blocking me from my right to respond. I’ll apologise for the tone, and I regret posting links to their crossposts - which I did take down not long after posting them, though this is perhaps redundant now - but I am not sorry for being angry. I am allowed to be angry. Maybe it’s “just fanfiction” and I “don’t own any of this stuff anyway”, but it’s my writing, my hours, my research, and my enjoyment that’s being cheapened by all this.

To those of you who have a problem with this and with me - at least do me the courtesy of letting me know you think I suck so that I (or my friend, who I will be giving some measure of access to my account) can block you back. I don’t want you being part of my space if I decide to return, and nor do I have to live up to everyone’s simultaneous expectations of me. I feel powerless after being told so many times that I don’t have the right to protect my hard work. I’m sorry you’re disappointed in me, but I don’t have any obligation to act the way you - a bystander, who has no idea how much I’ve worked on my writing and how much happiness it has brought me - deem it morally correct to do so.

So, I’m done with fandom and with writing.

For now at least, that is. I’m sad and drained and I no longer enjoy being part of an environment where I am being attacked for something I didn’t start. My passion has been obliterated. My joy sucked away. I feel alone. And this person has continued to make mocking commentary about me on their Wattpad account after reactivating, showing no signs of stopping anytime soon. I’m done.

I’ll be turning off anons for at least a while, even if I feel ready to come back tomorrow. I probably won’t be responding or posting or even really checking in that often, because just the sight of Tumblr is making me anxious and unhappy at the moment.

I do hope I’ll see you soon. If not - thank you. Thank you for being part of this journey. I love you all for being in my life, even if it wasn’t for long.

Bye xxx

#em gets personal sometimes #em writes stuff sometimes personal #personal updates

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