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dizzydennis · 1 year

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I need to get this off my chest.

I’ve been vocal about the IDW/Ian Flynn haters in the past. In fact, they’re the entire reason why I mostly left this platform. But it never ends. Whether it’s on tumblr or twitter or even in twitch chats, it never ends!

Don’t you get tired? Just go somewhere else? Just ignore the comics. The argument always comes up of “We can’t ignore it, they’ll ruining Sonic.” You can. You absolutely can!

I very much hate the Animal Crossing series now despite having liked it in the past. You don’t see me constantly writing essays about how bad it is. You don’t see me hating on every bit of news that comes out with it.

Comic books are a monthly narrative. They’re a medium very different from video games. I understand that people want Sonic to be a particular way. I do too, if I’m being honest. But I’m also aware that it’s a different interpretation as has been Archie Sonic, Movie Sonic, Fleetway Sonic, X Sonic, Underground Sonic, and so on. Sonic always changes based on the medium and interpretation. Heck, he changes between games. Sonic being “chatty” in the comics is a different interpretation and part of the entire medium of comic books. It’s how reading works.

I’m not going to claim that IDW or Ian Flynn are perfect. Is Sonic too morally righteous in the comics? Yes. Is Shadow written as an edgelord and against his growth from the game canon? Yes. Does Eggman lacking any back-up plans seem idiotic? Yes. Have the stories gotten a bit too repetitive with them constantly going to the Eggperial City? Yes. Is this something worth exploding over every month? NO!

All media is going to have things that aren’t perfect. You’re allowed to dislike it, but where is the line drawn in how much you need to vent about it?

The reason I want to write this post is how the “opinions” against the comics and Flynn have gotten to this unavoidable, venomous point. I’ve seen haters say how they’re excited to see the IDW sales fall so the comics eventually get canceled. How they want to take this particular faction of the Sonic fandom and dissolve it. I ask this genuinely: What is wrong with you!? Just because you dislike a particular part of a series means you want it destroyed even for those who enjoy it? Grow up. It’s selfish, mean, and just not what fandom is supposed to be about. The insults, the name-calling, the mob mentality, and everything coming out of this negative side of the fandom is really, really gross.

I’ve seen many haters always say that there are IDW-lovers who have also bullied, name-called, and even sent death threats. Now, I have never seen these myself besides retaliating against the haters who go too far. But I have never ever seen death threats over this (it could have been to previous writers and I may be mistaken). Now, I am stating it right here that just because I didn’t see these posts doesn’t mean they don’t exist. If they do, I obviously do not condone that behavior. It is awful! But I also see the haters bringing up these examples to justify any action they take. I’ve lost track of how many times it’s been brought up. First off, you know (if the posts do exist) that it’s a couple of bad apples amongst plenty of normal fans. But it’s brought up so often that I wonder... is it still a legitimate justification for how you’re acting? Even if it was one bad post, how much mileage can you get out of that? Does it still legitimize how you’ve been currently talking about others? Does it make your bullying fair? Your words do hurt and they do get to the ears of those you’re talking about.

And about Ian Flynn. You all need to stop. No, Ian Flynn is not perfect. No, I don’t think his Bumblekast things help a lot; in fact, it muddies a lot of the waters. But it’s a stupid podcast on the side... just ignore it. You do that with what’s actually written in the comic already. However you feel about him, Ian Flynn has contributed a lot to Sonic through Archie, IDW, and the games.

But there’s such a hatred for anything Ian Flynn puts his name on. I have a former friend who hated Sonic Frontiers before it came out simply because Ian Flynn was attached to it. The moment they heard he was the head writer, they wrote the game off. I am 100% sure that no matter how Frontiers or the story within it turned out, they would have disliked it. Just because Ian Flynn was in the end credits. The insults thrown at Ian Flynn, the artists, and writers of the IDW comics are inexcusable. If he has two characters even share a panel, you call it shipbaiting. If two female characters have a fight, you claim it’s written by a sexist man. If a villain is killed off-screen or turns out to be alive, you complain. This last point is exactly how a monthly, serialized story works. I don’t know if you’re unfamiliar with comic books outside of Sonic, but this is how the medium just is. Said villain gets killed and you shout foul about how the one “queer” character was killed. How the writers are homophobic for “leading readers on” and then killing him. There have been racists posts about the fandom praising Flynn over Japanese writers. You make posts ranting and raving how Nite and Don being a gay couple is bad because they’re “nothing characters” and then you post about how Don abandoned Nite... despite the fact that literally ONE PAGE LATER, he comes back to essentially die with his boyfriend.

It makes me wonder if the haters actually READ the comics or if they scan, decide they don’t like something, and then get angry. Sonic is a comic series under mandates and rules, especially after everything that went down with Archie. No, I’m not saying these mandates are excuses for poor characterization or writing, but it does somewhat explain why certain characters are handled in certain ways. The IDW comic writers are people with the freedom to take the characters in certain directions. That’s all. They’re creators working hard.

The defenses you all set up to lean back on Pontac and Graff is also bewildering. Now, if you love the “Meta Era” of games then that’s totally fine. I honestly don’t care which games you like. But retroactively praising the writing of games like Sonic Lost World and Sonic Forces is odd. Yes, Pontac and Graff are human beings and don’t deserve the massive hate and mistreatment they’ve been dealt. But their work is rightfully criticized. We went through over a decade of poor writing and canon being completely screwed up. But some of you will defend them because Eggman said he’d strangle a zeti or that the way he said the sun would crush the heroes justified so much in Forces. Why are you willing to die on this hill? For four games? For four games that have objectively more lighthearted and cookie cutter plots?

I’m not perfect in this. For a while, when Sonic Forces came out. I would make post after post about it. After a couple of months, I realized that I simply hated the game and I was harming the experience of people who liked it. I made an apology and I stopped. I still hate Sonic Forces. It’s still my most hated Sonic game, but you don’t see me reacting to the Infinite mini figure getting announced by making weeks of posts saying how badly he was written.

Just get over it. Move on. Stop hating on the aspects of a thing you’re supposed to be a fan of. Aren’t you miserable? Sonic the Hedgehog has been such a positive influence on my life. Sonic has inspired me, gotten me through bad times, and has introduced me to some of the best people I have ever met.

Why stick around and constantly surround yourself with such negativity? Again, I don’t hang around Animal Crossing things anymore and I’m personally better off for it. You’re in a fandom, but are you even fans anymore? You’ll hate everything that comes out simply because a particular writer is attached or because you’ve decided the comics have betrayed your headcanons. It’s gotten to the point where the IDW Haters really have become a joke. People see what you’re saying and it’s affecting the perception of the fandom. Moreover, you’re actively ruining the experience for fans around you and are voicing that you hope it fails.

That’s not what being part of a fandom is about. I am so, so, so tired of seeing negativity about the comics and Ian Flynn. Again, honest opinions are fine and I want people to feel how they feel. Their feelings should be valid. But having your opinions and becoming toxic to the point that you’re notorious for it... is just too much.

I love Sonic as I am sure many other fans do. Hell, there’s definitely love for Sonic with the IDW-haters as well; you wouldn’t feel so passionately about the blue blur if you didn’t care. But just take some perspective and realize what this is doing.

I had a good friend once who I thought would be somebody I could always relate to for good and bad. This friend would get angry if I didn’t agree to certain comments about Dr. Eggman and would be upset if I didn’t reply in a certain way to certain posts. It was like walking on egg shells. It came to a point where I needed to separate myself from that person. They became constantly toxic about all things modern Sonic. It made me feel depressed and guilty just to enjoy the series that I love. Toxicity is something that just corrodes you to the pit of your soul if it goes too deep. I miss this friend, but I don’t think I can ever truly be friends with them that way again. It affects me so often to this day.

Please, feel how you feel about Sonic comics, movies, games, whatever. Just realize how much your distaste for something is affecting you, your friendships, and others. I can’t stand this kind of drama anymore. I just want to love Sonic and want people to love Sonic as well. That’s what fandom is supposed to be about.

#Sonic the Hedgehog #Sonic comics #IDW Sonic #Ian Flynn #fans don't look

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neon-junkie · 2 years

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Why can’t this be Love? - Chpt.9

Summary: You’ve never really fit in, despite trying, despite being on the cheerleading team, despite awkwardly socialising with the popular crowd. It’s not for you - these people aren’t for you. Yet, you don’t know how to escape! Do you continue following a dead end? Or finally break away?

The answer is made for you after your ‘date,’ a boy on the basketball team, bails on you, and uninvites you from some stupid basketball after party. Whatever, that’s fine. But what’s not fine is the agonisingly long walk home. Oh, in the dark, late at night!

However, your saviour finds you, and not only does he save you from walking home alone, but the conflicting feelings that you’ve spent the last few years with.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Cheerleader Reader

Reader Description: Reader is female and uses she/her pronouns. Not much detail is given about her appearance, other than she wears heavy eyeliner, and is clearly an outcast that is trying to fit in.

Word count: 2k

Tags: Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Slow burn, Awkward flirting, Drinking, Angst, Comfort, Generic High School Bullying, Denial of feelings, Feelings realisation.

[Chapter 1] [Read on AO3] [Chapter 10]

Notes: Sorry for the small delay in posting. I've been ill recently with ??? a virus ??? food poisoning ??? babygirl I have no idea, but I'm mostly back to full health!! This is a somewhat short chapter to build up to another juicy one >:3 Also, thank y'all for all the love and support!! I'm really happy to hear that I'm writing Eddie in character. I re-watched S4 whilst I was ill, so that's helped me get into his vibe even more. Also, that boy totally has ADHD, and I love that because omgsammeeee!!!

Chapter 9 - Fury

Swinging your backpack over your shoulder, you finally leave the house, storming around the corner to where Eddie's van is parked, waiting to carpool you to school. The grip on your shoulder straps are tighter than they've ever been, burning the fabric into ash as rage and fury consume your body.

Grounded - really? Fucking hell, how old do they think you are? Twelve?!

Eddie can sense your frustration as he notices you stomping over. He rolls the window down and calls out, "everything okay, Princess?"

"You're not going to believe this," you scoff, and climb up into his van, accidentally closing the passenger door rather aggressively.

Eddie doesn't seem to mind, too fixated on your current mood. He turns the music down and awaits your rant, which is visually bubbling over through your expression, bursting at the seems.

"I'm grounded," you scoff. Your eyes widen in bewilderment, in pure shock that they have the audacity to attempt such a thing! You turn and look at Eddie, ready to begin your unruly vent, when the sight of a bruise on his face causes your thoughts to sway far off track. "Eddie, your eye-" you point out.

"-It's fine, Princess," Eddie scoffs with a light wave of his hand. "I'm sure Jason's balls look much worse."

With a soft laugh, you reach across and place your fingertips beneath Eddie's chin. He allows you to tilt his head, analysing the blotches and light swelling just above his cheek bone from where Jason punched him the night prior. It's far tamer than you imagined, and can hopefully be covered up by his wild curls and choppy bangs.

Hopefully.

"Did you put ice on it?" you question, moving your hand away.

"Peas, Sweetheart. Ice is a luxury that this man cannot afford," he grins. Eddie's expression relaxes as he gestures to you whilst asking, "So, uh, back to the main plot line here?"

"...oh, yeah! I'm grounded," you scoff, returning to your previous enraged state.

"Grounded?" Eddie repeats with a raised brow and an uncertain laugh, as if he didn't hear your words right. "As in, mommy and daddy said you can't hang out with your friends tonight?"

"Exactly!" you practically screech, your hand flailing with frustration. "I am old enough to drive, and own a property, but they still think I'm groundable?!"

Eddie lets out a nervous chuckle, soaking in the situation. Shit, at least he has a minor advantage to practically living alone, forever ungroundable, let alone untameable! "Why?" Eddie ponders. "What happened?"

You take in a deeeeep breath, your eyes fluttering shut as you inhale, only for them to finally open once you've exhaled. Your bunched up fists flex out, and you rest them on your thighs as you attempt to steady your anger. "Where do I begin?" you say with a fake laugh, acting all sweet and innocent.

"So, my grandparents came over last night after school, and my parents told me to come home early that morning so I could see them. Well, I obviously missed that," you sigh, gritting your teeth as you speak.

Eddie remains silent, waiting for you to lead up to the breaking point...

"My grandparents didn't mind, but my parents did! And to make things worse, the School called, and informed them about the little altercation that I got into..." you mock, putting a babyish tone on through your exaggerated words.

"Shit," Eddie curses under his breath. His hand comes up to rub his face, and only now do you realise that the faint thumping sound in the background is Eddie's foot subconsciously tapping against the floor.

"Yeah, shit indeed," you nod. "They made it clear that they're 'not mad at me,'" you explain with hand quotation marks, "but I did 'assault a girl,' which is the main reason why I need to be 'punished.'"

"Assault? Punished?!" Eddie scoffs, feeling nothing but empathy and rage. He shifts about in his seat, and takes in a swift deep breath, calming his nerves before he can consider storming back into your house and cursing your parents out. "Britney started on you, babe. Do your parents-"

"-yeah, they know exactly what happened," you interrupt, knowing exactly what Eddie was about to ask. "But they said I should have 'walked away.'" you explain with another set of hand quotation marks, and a mocking tone.

Eddie sucks in another deep breath as his fingers strum against the steering wheel, processing your wild turn of events... and it's barely 7am! "Walked away, huh?" Eddie ponders with a slow nod. "I don't mean to be rude, but uh... aren't your parents a little out of touch?"

"You're tellin' me," you groan. "I mean, my dad did try to argue that I was only defending myself, but my mom is the ruler of the household..."

"Ah," Eddie nods. "As much as I love non-traditional values, it seems that this hasn't been in your favour."

"Yep," you throw your hands up into the air in frustration, although you're no longer seeing red after venting to Eddie. Who knows? Maybe you'll replace Miss Kelly with Eddie, seeing as he's somehow calmed your anger faster than she ever has - as much as you like her!

Another deep sigh trails from your lips, and once you're somewhat perked up, you question his little joke, "non-traditional values?"

"Yeah, you know," Eddie explains with a wave of his hand. "The woman stays at home to cook and clean, whilst the man goes out to earn money, and fuck other women on the side. That kind of shit," he shrugs, and decides that it's time to get a move on. His van rumbles to life, and Eddie's hand finds the clutch as he begins the pesky journey to school.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head in the progress. "So, you'd be fine swapping roles? Cooking and cleaning whilst I go out and make all the cash?"

Eddie snickers with you, "you haven't seen the state of my trailer, Sweetheart."

"You're right," you nod, dreading to think of the unruly mess that his trailer must be in. Well, his uncle's trailer. Surely his Uncle isn't as much of a bum? Eddie, however, looks like the type to live in piles of clutter.

Maybe he'd tidy up, just for you?

"I was... uh," Eddie pauses, and pretends to focus on the road, shifting in his seat. "...I was going to invite you over later, but I guess mommy and daddy don't want you hangin' around with bad boys?"

"Eddie Munson," you chuckle, "you are far from a bad boy!"

Eddie clutches his chest in shock as his mouth gapes open, ever-so-offended at your words! "I'm not a bad boy?" he scoffs. "B-but... my taste in music? And my Satanic style? And I even grew my hair out?!"

The anger that was bubbling in your veins has settled down, and warmth swells up in your chest as you burst out into laugher. "See!" you point. "You are such a sap, Eddie!"

"You think so?" Eddie questions as he raises his brow. He grins when you nod in agreement, and lets out a theatrical sigh. "Phew! That's the image I was aiming for!"

Again and again, you find yourself laughing along with Eddie Munson, Hawkins lead Satanist, the man that brings fear to all with his puppy dog eyes and cheesy smile. How anyone can portray him as a devil is beyond you. Yet, they don't know the real Eddie, or Eddie at all!

Once your laughter has calmed down, Eddie speaks up again. "Seriously, I was going to ask you ou- over! I was going to ask you to come over tonight," Eddie sheepishly chuckles, and mumbles something under his breath about not being awake yet.

"I can't tonight," you shrug, pursing your lips in annoyance.

Eddie ponders as he slows his van down, pulling up to the School's drive away. "Ten points per student?" he questions, vaguely gesturing to the students walking on the path.

"Twenty if they're in our year," you giggle back.

Eddie wickedly grins as he notices a certain someone walking up the path, and rather than doing everybody a favour by running her over, he, instead, honks his horn. Britney, that bitch, jumps higher than the moon at the sudden noise, and tears begin flowing from your eyes as both of you burst into laughter.

Britney knows damn well who's just scared her soul out of her body, (if she even has one,) seeing as Eddie's van is well recognisable. An angry scream can be heard in the distance, "freaks!" which only makes you and Eddie laugh harder.

Parking is a challenge, considering Eddie can barely see through his glossy vision, even after multiple attempts of wiping away his laughter-induced tears. Finally, the engine falls silent, and his curls bounce as he turns to look at you.

"You could sneak out," Eddie wildly states.

You scoff at his suggestion, "not a chance. Have you met my parents?"

"Not yet," Eddie mutters under his breath. His leg begins subconsciously bouncing, and Eddie's fingertips find his rings as he fidgets with them. "How about I sneak in, then?"

Again, you scoff. This isn't a movie, or one of his silly D&D campaigns. A plan like that would never work! There's not a chance that Eddie can sneak in, and if he somehow manages it, he'll be discovered within seconds, seeing as you can't control your laughter around him!

"Still not a chance, Eddie," you sigh, wishing it were possible.

"Your window faces the front of the house, doesn't it?" Eddie queries.

Your eyes narrow suspiciously, "how do you know that?"

Eddie waves his hand through the air as he brushes you off, "I like to watch you sleep, but that's besides the point. There's a flower fence below your window, and little do you know, I'm Hawkins champion at flower fence climbing," Eddie proudly states, and gestures to his unmistakable flower fence climbing build. Clearly he was made for a challenge like this!

Your hands meet your face, and a deep groan escapes your lips as you question Eddie's little game plan. "It's doable," you agree, "but if we're caught, then my parents will turn you into Hawkins most wanted man."

"I'm, uh, pretty certain that I also have that achievement," Eddie says with a wink. "But I'm only going to break in if you want me to."

Your hands cross your chess as you play every scenario out in your mind. Eddie is vaguely likely to be caught climbing the fence, but what concerns you the most is how loud you two are when together. You're constant giggling messes, who struggle to keep the noise down, even more so when tension is running high.

You're bound to get caught, but then again, what if you don't get caught?

What if Eddie romantically sneaks into your bedroom, and spends the night monging out with you?

Do you really want to take the risk?

"Fine," you sigh in agreement. "But I won't be able to bail you out of prison when you get caught."

Eddie shrugs, his curls bouncing with the movement, "That's fine, just visit me from time to time!"

With that, and the sound of the School bell ringing, Eddie springs out of his van, and rushes around to assist you out of the passenger's side. As you take Eddie's hand, climbing down from the totally-not-steep step, Eddie asks, "Does six work for you?"

"My family has dinner at six," you groan.

"Seven?" Eddie suggests.

"Seven, it is."

Tag list: @bubblegumcat229 @buckys2thicc @livthelonleyfish @bubblebuttwade @sergeantbuckybarnes @kik51199 @preciousbabypeter @rosaline-black @boundtomyfate @be-the-spark-bitch @summerofsnowflakesfics @fi-chanwrites @reveller-upon-opium @official-clint-barton @clzt4 @chipster-21 @dragon-ash13 @carliuxima @eddiemattress

If you would like to be added to the tag list, then please drop me a message!

#why cant this be love #strangerwriting #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #f!reader #st #stranger things s4 #stranger things 4 #st4 #eddie munson x female reader #eddie the banished #fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

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vanderwoodlings · 6 months

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20 questions game for fic writers

Tagged by @strideofpride tysm <3

1. How many works do you have on ao3? 92! That is… more than I expected. Gonna have to do something special when I hit a hundred I think

2. What’s your total ao3 word count? 239,532

3. What fandoms do you write for? Mostly GG and DC Comics, but I’ve done a little of a lot of things. Still currently working on HOTD on a tertiary level, I guess

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? après le déluge, moi (post-film fic for The Batman (2022)); Here’s the part where I make a joke about roses, right? (Batfam fluff); maybe i’m just breaking free (took the apprentice arc from the Teen Titans cartoon, mix-and-matched with Winter Soldier, threw it all into the comicsverse); like a weird, murdery uncle you don’t invite to thanksgiving (batfam & rogues) and Paradigm Shift (Damian Wayne adjusting to Wayne Manor, part of a larger au)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yep! Unless it’s very flat out hate, I’ll give it a shot. I like talking to people who leave more in depth ones, and it makes me happy to even get little compliments, so I try to say thank you.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Hm… load-bearing (the ventfic about Eric getting vented at) is pretty heavy, and so is steal my reflection (what do you see?) (some reactions to Inside)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Maybe the park au (single parents Dan and Blair meet watching their kids at the park)?

8. Do you get hate on fics? It’s happened before, yeah. Not fun

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind? Nope

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve ever written? Sometimes! The only one I’ve published is stage name (crossover where Jason Grace is Aaron Hotchner’s nephew)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not as far as I know

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? It’d be cool, and I’ve gotten some awesome related/inspired works, but no

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? A few times, yeah—mostly with my sibling (on here @darngosh-it and ao3 as DarnGoshit)

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? ,,,,,there are lots. First one that comes to mind, though, is a pre-series blairserena piece

16. What are your writing strengths? Atmosphere, I think. I’ve been told a few times that my writing has a very distinctive Vibe

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I always feel like my characters don’t exist in physical space. They’re talking heads a lot of the time

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I mean look. If you’re wrong it’s embarrassing, and if you’re making your readers scroll to the end of the chapter it’s annoying and hard to read. Generally, writing in the same language and indicating that it’s not somehow is gonna be better

19. First fandom you ever wrote for? I believe somewhere there is still a composition book with Narnia fanfic from when I was twelve

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written? I’m gonna cheat and give three in the form of talking about the thing that canon doesn’t talk about

Tagging: @mysteriesofloves, @blairwaldcrf, and anyone else who might think these look fun!

#tag games #original nonsense #this is a writing tag

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tea-with-evan-and-me · 1 year

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Hey. I saw your post about gftwd wanting revenge, and I feel like I have to say something because this situation is so out of hand. You can read this or you can tell me to fuck off, but I want this off my chest and you should know what’s happening. It’s gonna be long, but sorry. I was a follower of her original account from very early on and one of her ''Discord girls'' who she became tight with. I’m ashamed to say that I went along with the questionable things she said and did because I lowkey felt flattered she was my friend and shared stuff with me she didn’t post on her blog, like Evan’s Amazon profile and his Airbnb profile. This was before he privated them and only a few of us had that info back then and I never saw it talked about on here or anywhere else like Twitter. She is not a mentally stable person, she seriously got consumed with Frances before and now she is consumed with your blog and followers. She never deleted Discord, at least not her own account because we had a private DM chat going that went on even after she archived her other blog.. yes, archived. It’s not deleted. Ever since your blog appeared she has made no secret of absolutely loathing you, mostly because her former followers went over to vent to you and she blames you for anons attacking her over Frances, because you said she slut shamed her. She feels humiliated by the situation and mad that now she only has a handful of followers since you ‘’made’’ her delete. When she remade her blog she made some post about having been in the hospital for treatment and that wasn’t even true. She is hellbent on getting revenge, and she is doing everything she can to dox you. She is always talking about an uncle she has who works in cyber-security and I think she really believes she can track people down and make them pay in some sort of way. For all her talk of IP addresses and legal action, she has told me that the only info she has is based on visits to her page so she doesn’t actually know for certain who is individually sending each ask. But she has said she has your IG profile (IDK if that’s true) and that she feels like you’ve wronged her so severely she is willing to lie in order to ruin your reputation in the way she feels you ruined hers. This includes spoofing IP addresses and doctoring screenshots/photos, which she asked ME to do because she knows I do a bit of photo editing and graphic design (not for bad sh*t, legitimately). I didn’t do it. That was the last straw. I told her I feel like this isn’t necessary and that it’s better to move on and never post about this situation again so people will forget, to just be the bigger person in this situation and take the high road.. but she doesn’t plan to do that. When I told her I feel like this has gone way too far and that I can’t support doing this stuff she just blocked me on Discord. If you post this she’ll see it and obviously know who it is but I don’t give a sh*t anymore. I deleted my own Tumblr a while back due to mental health concerns and the amount of time I was spending here and I think she needs to do the same for her OWN good. I regret ever visiting her page and involving myself in any way. I wasn’t even a huge stan of Evan’s, I was just curious and went down the rabbit hole. I’m deleting this app off my phone so even if she decides to make a post calling me out and threatening to sue me I won’t be here to see it. Peace.

well, here we go :) i really have very little else i can say about this situation, other than... well, you know. this is not anywhere even in the ball park of normal and acceptable behavior. and i already knew that someone on here was stalking my IG page because i received an anonymous ask about it a couple of weeks back (march 7). i guessed it was her, because i don't know who else would care enough to do something creepy like that. you would have to make an effort to connect a cartoony AI generated photo of me i posted on here to an IG profile following people associated with evan. i do not post anything fandom related on my IG profile so it's not like you would just stumble upon it like whoopsie i think that's tweam. i privated my page and got a request right after from a nondescript profile and deleted it. for someone who has spent the last several weeks proclaiming they are not a bully, but rather, the bullied.. this behavior is mighty strange. oh well. the fact remains, you cannot control what other people do. but i sincerely hope that she seeks help and stops posting about my blog, sending me anonymous threats, and now i guess attempting to doxx me! oh what fun it is to be on tumblr in 2023.

i'm going to bed. this shit seems exhausting to me, i can't imagine how much mental energy it takes up to be hyper-focused on being hateful when you can literally just do anything else and be better spending your precious time. i'll resume my regular evan peters gossip tomorrow as time permits. or maybe gftwd will show up at my front door with a chainsaw or some shit lmfao goodnight.

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awakeshedreams · 3 years

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sugar and spice ( 1 )

pairing : resident bad boy!jjk x model student!reader

setting : highschool!au x stepbrother!au

summary :

a messy highschool!au x stepbrother!au where model student reader who has quite a few dirty little secrets sees her world take an unexpected turn when her mother comes home one day with an engagement announcement, to the father of none other than the school's resident bad boy.... Jeon Jungkook.

genre : smut, for laughs, kinda pornish, slow burn with collosaly overwhelming sexual tension

rating: soft m ( for now ) due to adult content

warnings : unconventional relationship of sexual nature, tropes and clichès, teenagers partaking in porn-esque activities, made up things with made up people happening in a made up world, don't like don't read XD

wordcount : 2.3K

a/n : i've been fighting in a long standing war and I have lost. the man known as jeon jungkook had his foot on my neck for years and today, I have finally submitted to my fate and surrendered to his reign.

yes. after a hundred years, i'm writing again. specifically, writing for bts. particularly, writing for jungkook. its been a long time coming.

life just took over and I transitioned into an adult and kind of grew out of the state of mind I was in before. but. sigh. jeon jungkook has been tormenting me the whole time. it was only a matter of time before i relapsed honestly.

so here I am again. in mind, body and spirit, a different person from who I was before but still the same in the sense that with the way bts have my whole heart, jk will always be the demon in the corner of my room that I invite to bed for a cuddle even though it's (probably really) not good for me.

do not misconstrue. I love him more than I can say. but. sigh. he has me in a chokehold, loves. please try to understand where I'm coming from.

anyways, enough with this ranting. you all came here for the nitty gritty so let me not hold you hostage with my dilemma rambling any longer. here's to the first bts fic i've posted in literal years. introducing- sugar and spice.

1 2

Unless they told someone, no one would have been able to guess it.

At school they were complete strangers.

She was the nice head girl with a clean record, all smiles and straight A’s. He was the mysterious bad boy with a track record, all tatted up with bruised knuckles.

She wore plaid skirts with neat pleads in them and pastel sweaters with bows at the collar. He wore jeans with rips in them and leather jackets with studs.

They couldn't have been any more different.

As far as anyone was concerned, they existed on two extreme ends of a vast spectrum.

What they didn't know was that they shared a dirty little secret.

You were a girl with many dirty secrets.

For instance, you used to sell nudes online. It was a side hustle you did.

Not because you needed money.

Your mom was a renowned doctor so there was more than enough of that in your life.

Not because you needed validation from people online either.

Even without the constant compliments and the praises you knew you were visually blessed with a pretty face and a nice body too.

All things considered, you simply thought you had a nice pair of tits and you took pictures of them sometimes.

Posting the shots you snapped online came much later when you heard about this website where people were getting paid crazy money for posting racy things.

‘It’s just so degrading…’ It was one of your friends, June, who sneered, pretty nose scrunched up. She fixed her long ponytail and rolled her brown eyes while looking in the mirror at her locker. ‘Who would do such a thing, am I right?’

She said this, but June was the girl who has slept with more boys than she could count on her two hands. And those were the ones she told you about.

Like every other time, you said nothing. Even when it carried on to lunch with the rest.

‘Pretty desperate if you ask me.’ Mei the stellar track runner shrugged casually as she stretched her limbs like routine.

‘Where are their parents?’ Nina the library nerd shook her head in disapproval as she fixed her glasses so it sat right on the bridge of her nose.

‘Um… I don’t think it’s … appropriate… to talk about ….’ Kiko the one who always carried a cross and bible around mumbled into her sleeve.

All your friends spoke of it in derision and repulsion of course. This was a school for proper children so they were proper girls. At least they were supposed to be.

Regardless the conversation sparked a curiosity in you.

So you made an account and uploaded your first picture. Nothing bizarre. Just your tits in a pretty lace bra.

You made sure to keep your face out of the frame because that was the smart thing to do and you were nothing if not the smartest student in school.

In all honesty, you weren’t expecting anything out of it. In fact, in between work with student council and tutoring your juniors with finals right around the corner, you even forgot about it for an entire month.

It was by a complete whim that you decided to open the app while you’d been unwinding at your desk following a tedious day at school.

To say you were amused by the response you found waiting for you would have be a grave understatement.

You were staring at the four figure digit that now sat in your bank account.

Reading through the comment section was even more interesting.

There were all sorts of people there who had all sorts of things to say. Ranging from honestly sweet to downright dirty.

You had never been brought to tears laughing in her life before until then.

It was just so funny to see people misbehave and lose their minds over a pair of tits.

From then on it just sort of became a thing.

But that wasn't the worse of your secrets.

You were making a name for yourself on the crude web months later.

The next step was naturally to move from making taking pictures to making videos. Since you was already in too deep you didn’t see why not.

So you upgraded and opened another account. An amateur one where your touched yourself for an audience.

You were no prude.

You might have never been touched by a boy before but you had touched yourself plenty times. Stress and frustration came hand in hand with being head girl. Since you couldn’t quite vent it out at the annoying troublemakers at school, this was your second best option.

Third was watching porn, but that was mostly when you were extremely bored.

But that wasn’t where that little endeavor ended.

Later on it became a lot more risqué.

It all started when your mom hit you with a marriage announcement.

She met a guy on her business trip who she really liked and she was convinced he was the one.

Your mom had a tragic history of being a bad judge of character.

You’ve had this conversation at least five times since you became old enough to understand that boys and girls who were just friends didn’t kiss and sleep with each other.

Most times, it felt like she was doing it because she thought you needed a dad around.

You might have once, when you were younger and your mom was too busy with work to be there. But she worked from home these days and you were soo busy with school to worry about things like that.

This time it was like she was doing it for her. You were glad.

Your mom looked genuinely happy when she spoke about this guy.

Who were you to get in the way?

She spent almost the whole weekend in the kitchen. It was the longest you’ve seen her in there in your entire life.

She was excited for the dinner on Sunday.

Mr Jeon was the name of the chosen man.

He was coming over with his kid. A son, his only family. His wife passed away years ago.

You wore the dress your mom picked out for you, something cream in color and off the shoulders that brushed your knees. She looked pretty in her champagne dress. It was different from the office slacks and loose blouses you were used to seeing her in.

You stood by her at the door while the guests came through.

Lifting your head from a polite bow, you found herself staring straight into an achingly familiar pair of glinting dark eyes and went completely still.

‘Sweetie,' Your mother said sounding delighted, a soft hand on your stiff shoulder. 'This is Mr Jeon and his son Jungkook.’

Ah. Fuck.

‘Jeon dear, this is my daughter. Isn’t she lovely?’

Dinner was a mild affair, with small talk and the occasional clinking of cutlery on fine china.

From the outside looking in, you probably looked the picture perfect family already.

Only if no-one looked close enough.

Arms crossed, tongue in cheek. Your discomfort could be detected from miles away.

The two adults were oblivious.

The dark eyed boy with the slightest wave to his nape touching, brow grazing, ear covering onyx hair sat across you though; he took note of this with a passing glance and wordlessly returned to his food.

Jeon Jungkook had a countenance that betrayed his reputation.

Even though you’ve never talked, you knew plenty about him and you were sure he knew a lot about you too.

You went to the same school.

Dressed as he was in a crisp white dress shirt buttoned at the wrist and dark tailored pants with a fine belt on, it might have been hard to tell what kind of person he really was.

You lifted her gaze from your plate to look study him wordlessly, idly twisting the noodles with your fork.

People either called him the black sheep or the dark cloud but for you, Jeon Jungkook was the school’s resident lone wolf.

He smoked in the secluded areas on campus, sometimes playing his guitar. Beat up people who got on his nerves, sometimes using his guitar. Slept in class the rare times he was there, many times on his guitar.

Being his senior, you had never seen any of any of that for yourself. But you received plenty reports weekly to come to a sound conclusion.

There was no way people hated him enough to join hands in solidarity and make this all up.

It was quite the contrary actually. He had an alarming number of fans.

On the surface level you couldn’t see why. Most times you saw him, he looked bored out his mind and honestly, intimidating.

Maybe it was the tattoos. Or the ripped skinny jeans. Or the leather jackets with studs.

Maybe it was the domineering height and fit frame and structured face.

Maybe it was the intense dark eyes or the silky ruffled hair.

Even then, you failed to see the irresistible appeal in him. All those things that made him up only added to his unapproachable aura.

Bottom line was, he was bad news.

You didn’t want to be a spoil sport.

But how much of a thug your mom’s boyfriend’s son was shouldn’t be something that would make her like him less.

They were both their own people. Right ?

It was just that you just didn’t want her to be shocked and devastated if something happened later. When it happened.

Yet it seemed the serious conversation would have to wait.

After dinner your mom suggested you head to the living room to chat over wine and cheese.

You stayed back to do take out the dishes.

Earlier, your mom had stood to do it instead at first.

‘Don’t bother with that, dear.’ She reached for the plates in your hands. ‘Let me do it.’

‘It’s okay, mom.’ You smiled a little. ‘This is your night. I’ll meet you in the living room.’

'Sweetie...' Your mom looked close to tears. ‘But there’s so much of it…’

‘Jungkook,’ his father's voice had cut through the moment. He was a serious man in a crisp suit with a stoic countenance. His voice was just naturally authoritarian without him trying ‘Give her a hand.’

Jungkook stood, almost robotically.

‘It’s fine.’ You said. Politely. Nicely. Tightly. ‘I can handle this much.’

You left without another word.

That had been moments ago and now you were done with cleaning.

You stood at living room entrance for a while, taking in the scene.

The two adults were exchanging moon eyes and whispering in each other’s ears at the love seat.

Jungkook was sitting on a solo seat, but he was on his phone, completely unbothered by what was happening.

Your mom seemed to think it was the perfect time to pull out the photo album right then and there upon seeing you.

It was embarrassing but at least you knew you didn’t have to worry about the pictures spreading at school.

Jungkook was looking, picking up a picture occasionally to rove over, but he wasn’t the type to do that.

He also wasn’t the type to stare but you felt his glance shifting to you and lingering multiple times.

Once, you caught his eyes and he just stared at you across the coffee table wordlessly with a curious tilt to his head, idly flipping a picture of you dressed as a knight in glitter shining armor for Halloween at eight in his hands.

Honestly, it was starting to get annoying.

But you endured. For your mom’s sake.

Your alarm went off at exactly ten.

As subtly as you could, you excused yourself with an apology to the guests, saying you weren't really feeling well.

In hindsight you probably should have used a better excuse.

Your mom was notorious when it came to worrying, especially when it comes to your health.

Also, you probably should’ve locked the door before undressing just for good measure since people were over.

But in the moment, you were too busy setting your camera up where you were kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed to be concerned about that.

That day you were testing out a new toy.

Distractedly, you took note of a couple of people asking you if that was your boyfriend’s shirt you had lifted over your tits.

You ignored them.

Couldn’t a girl own an oversized tee without getting any flack?

Trivial comments like that aside, a good majority of the audience are fawning over how wet you were and how perfect you bouncing tits look being played with.

Your head fell back and your eyes fluttered shut.

You were sitting there, knees raised to your chest and legs splayed, your gushing pussy in full display where the toy was stuffed deep into her tightness, vibrating pleasantly.

‘I’m close…’ you mumbled throatily, squeezing your tits and pinching your stiff nipples in between your moving fingers. You moved your hips move faster, feeling the toy buzz against fluttering walls. You took a hand off one of your tits to rub at your engorged clit. ‘Fuckfuckfuck…’

Deep in your high, you didn’t hear the door open and close with a foreboding click.

You only heard your name being called by a deep, smooth voice through the heady haze.

Instantly you stilled.

When you snapped your head to look over her shoulder Jungkook was there, hands in his pockets, leaning against your doorframe with his sleeves drawn up to his elbows, muscle roped, inked skin on full display.

When he tilted his head to the side a little, appraisively, you dared to say as a quaking chill ran down your spine and your entire body felt like it was about to burst into flames, a bit of his hair fell over his face.

His eyes were like two black in the dark as he took you in, dragging his gaze up and down your exposed body languidly.

In the back of your mind, you wished the ground would part and swallow you whole.

‘Your mom,' he starts, capturing your attention wholly, dark gaze finally flickering to your face, his voice suddenly lower, hoarser. ‘She sent me over to check on you.’

It took you a moment to realize where you were, who you were, who he was.

It was like a bucket of cold water had been dropped over your head.

Jeon Jungkook, the school's resident trouble maker, soon to be your step brother, just walked in on you fingering yourself in in front of a recording camera.

Well. Yeah.

You gulped.

You were royally fucked.

depending on the response I get I might ( most probably will ) delete this. not because I'm ashamed of my work. because I'm embarrassed of myself. I really swore to never write again and here I am. sigh. yes, I have seen my previous works and noticed just how terrible they were and this is a big reason why. so sorry for putting you through that. a million apologies.

also, that's right. I have adopted a new style which might not be to everyone's liking. another reason why.

anyways, if you liked this filth ( i know it seems mild but I can tell you it's very likely gonna get worse ) please idk uh... fuck this isn't ao3. hm.

like and drop by in the ask box if you liked it and want to see more. it makes me happy. its like serotonin fuel to me.

have a nice day. see you next time ( maybe ). stay fresh. yeah. 💜💜.

#bangtan #bts #bts angst #bts fluff #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts smut #bts au #jeon jungkook #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts high school au #jungkook high school au

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monsterenergysimp · 4 years

Text

Permanence

corpse husband x fem!reader

summary: you meet corpse on a stream and you’re surprised when he reaches out to you

warnings: cursing, mentions of tattooing

word count: 1.9k

notes: This is proof read but could have missed some stuff. This is my first corpse fic and my first time writing fanfic since I posted that super cringey book on wattpad when I was like 12 or something. I’d appreciate feed back so please reach out to me :)

main blog @itsmysleepover

read part 2 here!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You were cleaning up your station so you can get home and stream. You loved your day job as a tattoo artist but you also really enjoyed streaming. It started as a way to promote yourself as an artist and the shop you worked at but it eventually became a really fun way to destress at the end of the week (or day if you were really itching to stream). “Hey Y/N was that your last client?” your boss, KC, asked as she walked to the front of the shop and put new flash drawings on the walls.

“Yes ma’am!” You said back excitedly. You finished cleaning your station and tossed your black gloves in the trash. “And you can’t trick me into staying and taking walk-ins,” you joked with her. She rolled her eyes and walked back into her office “It was one time,” she said as you slid on your jacket. As you walked out your phone buzzed in your pocket and you checked to see who had texted you. It was a message from Sean asking if you were free to play Among Us with him and some other streamers. You replied that you were on your way home right now and totally down. You were excited to see who was playing this time around since their Among Us streams are super entertaining and have gotten really popular.

On your way back you tweeted and posted to your Instagram story that you’d be streaming soon and set up all your stuff once you made it home. After a few minutes, you had a couple of thousand people watching. You entered the discord chat and Sean spoke up. “Everyone this is Y/N she’s sensitive so be gentle.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you guys and I’m not gentle, I'm ruthless,” You say into your mic and notice the chat calling you a liar. Everyone was in the lobby waiting for the game to start. “You sound way too sweet to be ruthless,” Corpse said. The countdown started and you were imposter with Charlie.

“This should be fun,” you told the stream. Yout tried playing strategically but after such a long shift your brain was mush. You saw Poki in nav and killed her then vented into shields. Not long after the body was reported and you were sure you were going to get voted out or at least sussed.

“Where was the body?” Felix asked. “Nav and I didn’t see anyone near there so whoever is imposter must have vented,” Corpse responded. Felix spoke up again. “I think I saw Y/N walk that way and I haven’t seen her since.”

Shit, shit, shit shit. “I’m in shield right now so-” you said trying to defend yourself but Charlie spoke up. “I was doing tasks with her earlier and I saw her walk into shields so she’s safe but I’m still not sure about Rae.” Everyone discussed a bit more and some people, including Corpse, voted for you but Rae got the majority vote and was ejected. You released your breath and kept playing being extra careful.

“Okay, guys that was super close. Corpse knows and is out to get me,” you said to the chat. You were eventually voted off but one round later victory was written across your screen with your ghost and Charlie’s avatar. “Good game guys,” Corpse said.

“I told you guys I was ruthless!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You sat at your station doing nothing because a client had canceled a four-hour session. You were listening to music and sketching some stuff but you were bored out of your mind and you didn’t want to leave in case you got a walk-in. The music got quiet as you received a twitter notification saying someone had messaged you. You reached for your phone and saw you had gotten a dm from Corpse.

C: hey :)

You didn’t know what to respond. You were mostly confused as to why he decided to message you out of the blue. Did he want something? But what would he want?

Y: Hii! This is sudden

C: was i bothering you?

shit sorry!

Y: Youre fine I wasn’t doing anything rn

C: how has your day been

i dont usually do stuff like this

Y: Im glad you did im doing better now I was so bored

C: what were you doing that was so terrible

Y: NOTHING! thats the problem :(

C: im sure youll find something to do

You stared at his message. Unsure what to respond.

Y: Im gonna give myself a tattoo

C: what?

NO!

You tossed the needles you used for your tattoo into the sharps box. “Oh my god you didn’t,” KC said. She noticed the wrap on your calve from the tattoo you just gave yourself out of boredom. “It’s not my fault I didn’t have anything else to do!” You said trying to defend yourself. She sighed and just shook her head. “Just go home business is slow today.” It was raining so the shop probably wasn’t going to get a walk-in anyway and you didn’t have any more clients for the day. It was only 2 pm but you drove home and after making lunch for yourself decided to stream. You weren’t expecting too many people so it was bound to be super chill. Your leg felt sore reminding you of the tattoo. You snapped a quick pic of the fresh jack-o-lantern on the side of your calve and messaged it to Corpse.

Y: [image] it came out nice!

C: thats super cool actually

i was concerned why you would just give yourself a tattoo but i found your instagram and youre super talented

Y: Thank you!

For some reason, it felt strange to just have that be the end of your response.

Y: Im about to start streaming if you wanted to watch

[link]

C: ill be watching ;)

What’s that supposed to mean?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You sat in your apartment watching tv, hand lost in a bag of Doritos, and scrolling through twitter. You had stopped paying attention to the anime playing on the screen since you’ve watched it a hundred times and knew you wouldn’t miss anything. It was Saturday and you usually take those days off. Take the time to do chores or meet up with some friends but today you felt like not doing any of those things. As you continue your endless scroll (not helping the twitter addiction you told yourself you’d try to get a handle on) you got a message from Corpse.

C: wanna talk?

You looked down at the message unsure of how to answer. It was a simple yes or no and the obvious answer was yes. You and Corpse had started talking more regularly. You still didn’t have each other’s phone numbers but it was fine. Your conversations weren’t too big-- just you sending him memes, tiktoks, and telling him how much you liked the songs he would drop. Or him complimenting a tattoo you did. Sometimes he’d message you during streams telling you funny stuff his fans would say in the chat and you’d do the same. You learned a bit about each other but nothing too deep or serious. Like how you two lived a few cities away and you both really liked Donnie Darko. When Sean first invited you to that game out of everyone else there you were most excited to meet Corpse. He’s just so sweet and funny. Of course, you’d love to talk to him but you were also itching to talk to him and the last thing you’d ever want to do was make him uncomfortable.

Y: Yeah id love to talk

Here goes nothing.

Y: Wanna facetime or something?

No pressure or anything it could even be a regular call

I think facetime is just my default lol

You sent those last two messages quickly after you had sent the first. You wished you could know what he was thinking. It was killing you to think you had turned him off from talking to you completely. You put your phone down on the couch and went to wash your hand of Dorito dust. When you got back from the kitchen you turned off the tv and tossed yourself onto the couch.

Still no message.

Why am I so fucking stupid?

Just as you were standing up to stretch from sitting on the couch all day your phone buzzed. You reached for it fast and looked to see that it was him. You became super excited still not even knowing what the message said. It could have told you to never talk to him again for all you knew.

C: sure lets facetime

xxx-xxx-xxxx

You had his phone number. You added him to your small but growing contact list and called. You sat on your couch waiting for a response when he finally picked up the screen was black. It didn’t upset you; you kind of expected it and didn’t care what he had to do to make himself more comfortable during this call.

“Hey,” he said. His voice was raspier than usual.

“Did you just wake up?” You asked and looked at the time. It was about a little past noon and you had only eaten Doritos all day. Shit, you should probably make a decent meal.

“Not that long ago but yeah,” he responded and giggled. That giggle.

“Well, I’ve eaten nothing but Doritos all day while rewatching Ouran High School Host Club, so you’re welcome to join me as I make myself something to eat.”

“Sounds like fun; what are we eating?”

“I don’t know yet,” You said as you stood up and made your way to the kitchen. You opened the pantry and looked. You noticed a can of diced tomatoes and reached for it then checked the expiration date. It was still good. On your counter were some onions and garlic. “How about some tomato soup?”

“Sounds delicious.” you smiled at Corpse and your phone screen not knowing if he was also looking at his screen or not. “You’re really pretty-- you know that?”

“Thanks, but you don’t have to--”

“I’ve already told you what an incredible artist you are so many times I bet you’re tired of hearing it, but you already know what a talented artist you are.”

“That is very kind of you Corpse,” you said to him bashfully as you chopped the onion and opened the can of tomatoes. “But once again you don’t have to reach so far to compliment me.”

“I’m not reaching you are talented and beautiful and--”

“I thought I was pretty.” You could hear him chuckle with a smile on his face. “You’re both,” he said. You could feel your face getting warm from blushing.

“Fuck you you’re making me blush. My face is all hot and stuff.”

He laughed at how flustered you got. “That’s the cutest thing ever.”

You didn’t know how to respond so you just put some olive oil in a pot and tossed in your onions. It became silent but it was a comfortable silence. You turned the stove on and watched the flame for a few seconds. “If it was dark we could pretend we were together and having a bonfire or something,” you said to the phone as you turned the camera to show him the flame (still not 100 percent sure if he was looking at you or not).

“I’ll put it on the list of things to do when you visit me someday.”

#corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband imagines #corpse husband x y/n #youtubers #caffeinated ramblings

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rantrambles · 3 years

Text

Ever get so upset you make a Tumblr account to vent?

I haven’t even listened to The Penumbra Podcast yet but it’s on my list because it’s insanely popular and the cosplays I’ve seen are hot as hell (A+ to all the cosplayers I’ve seen you’ve done great work). Now, with the recent news surrounding the podcast, I’ll wait till it’s done if I ever do get into it. I’m Asian and part of the LGBT community but I’m not nonbinary so I can’t say much about the trans represention in the art but I wanted to add my two cents on the matter as a person of color and someone examining the situation from the outside. Also, before I get deeply into it, I’m not the only person of color with opinions on this matter so if people have their own frustrations and criticism with the racism in The Penumbra Podcast and/or the new artist they hired, definitely listen to them too. These are my own personal opinions, and I’m sure other people will disagree and that’s fine. We’re all going to have different views on this so bear that in mind. Also, feel free to correct me or add anything if I’ve missed some information. Here’s a great breakdown of the whole situation for those that don’t know what happened. Finally, I was very hesitant to post this, but I felt it was important because I make a statement at the end on how race should be presented in a podcast format so if you are interested in making a podcast and want to have a diverse range of characters, please skip to the end to read those thoughts.

I’ll start off by saying, I’m not even that upset with the new artist that The Penumbra Podcast hired. I know that statement alone is controversial but I don't personally know them, and I’m not going to judge who they are as a person by a few pieces of art they’ve made. They are the least of the problems that I have here. Since the announcement and the backlash, I’ve been scrolling through the artist’s Instagram account and I can tell why people find the designs offensive, but I’m also comparing the designs to the artist’s other work, and I honestly believe that’s just their style. They’ve exaggerated the features of just about every character they’ve made, regardless of race or gender. From what I’ve seen the sharp angles and overly round curves in the anatomy that make some of the character’s features more jarring are how they prefer to draw. I’m sure they’re capable of drawing more realistic proportions but for the most part they’re art aims to call attention, be bold, and create distinguished features. Not inherently a bad thing on its own.

And yeah I’d understand the issue if this were a scenario where the artist heard how these characters acted in the podcast and thought “hey, obviously this character is a black woman because they are super strong and therefore must have big muscles, no other woman could look like that” or “hey, this character has to be Asian because they act super seductive sometimes better draw them as such.” But from my understanding the race was already decided by previous official artists and a general description of the characters were already generated by the audience, similar to how The Magnus Archives leaned towards drawing scrawny Jon with black, greying hair and dark skin. The new artists couldn’t really change those features even if those features aren’t described in canon because a depiction that strayed too far from popular fandom interpretation would make the character’s unrecognizable to the fanbase.

I think the reason this became such a big issue for most people is because the new Penumbra artist used their exaggerated art style when making these characters and people of color and nonbinary folks already see themselves drawn as these exaggerated caricatures all the time (with those images being used to further discriminate against them). I’m sure the artist didn’t mean for their art to be offensive, but that of course doesn’t change how it was received.

According to some, the poses and expressions the artists chose did not fully represent the characters entirely and only served to further perpetuate harmful stereotypes, and I’ll have to take their word for it because I still haven’t listened to the podcast so I have no idea how the characters act. But again much of the criticism is based on the one line-up and doing a deeper dive into the artist’s work I managed to find artwork that was much less offensive. Here some art where Vespa is depicted in a non-violent pose and one where Vespa is in a threatening pose but not an overly violent one. Here is Peter drawn in a non-seductive pose. Hopefully, the artist truly does keep the criticisms in mind as they work on the new official art. I’m just not the type of person that wants to get the pitchforks out and cause this particular person to lose a job they seemed really excited about over their old character line-up, especially when that person is also part of a marginalized group.

Again, that’s just my opinion on that particular artist. Those who are offended by their art are still valid in how they feel, and the artist should absolutely take their criticism to heart to better how they represent the characters.

What I’m more upset about is that I think The Penumbra Podcast should never have released official art for their characters in the first place and that’s their mistake that they refuse to own up about. They have made it clear that the story was never meant to portray characters of colors, a fact emphasized by the fact they hired mostly white actors from the start. They only started releasing art of the characters to get a profit. And the thing is they know what they did was wrong. All I had to do was search Penumbra Podcast racism and there is a note on their website saying that they archived some old official art.

“We have discontinued all Penumbra merchandise that uses the original character designs, and in the meantime, any profits on the sales of that merchandise will go to the For The Gworls project. We also realize that the depiction of these characters as POC, while not appropriate for us to use in our marketing and merchandise, has nonetheless become personally meaningful to many POC listeners. For that reason, and because we do not wish to distance ourselves from our mistake, we are keeping these images on our website for archival purposes. Though we do want to make it clear that many of the main/featured voice actors are white and that we did not write the characters to represent any specific POC experience, you are, as always, free to imagine these characters in any way that you like.”

I went to their shop and they still sell posters and pins with the character’s faces on them, but they are donating it to a good cause so hopefully that stays the same. However, I still find it a little uncomfortable that they are still selling character merch and have plans to continue selling character merch. They have no right to dissuade the fans that already found representation in the characters, but they also have no right to profit off the representation that was built, regardless if they made the story.

Let’s compare this to another piece of popular media. I love Avatar the Last Airbender and, I liked the ATLA voice actors just fine but there should have been more people of color doing voice acting behind the screen too. The voice actors for that show were mainly white too, however, the creators knew that they would be making poc characters. That’s what makes the difference. Did they still choose to go with mostly white voice actors? Yes. Could they have done better and pay more people of color? Also yes. But I’m not as furious at them because they did their research on the cultures they were basing the ATLA world off of and intentionally gave us a show where Asians could see characters that looked like them represented on the screen. The Penumbra Podcast did not do any of that. Again, they openly admitted that it was never their intention to make the character’s people of color when they made the podcast so that goes to show no research was made to properly represent specific cultures. The color of the character’s skin in their official designs therefore became more of aesthetic choice rather than representation, and it wasn’t even their aesthetic choice to begin with!

Race isn’t a color you can just throw onto the character because you feel like it. So I want this to be a lesson to anyone that wants to make a podcast: if you want to include poc characters please do some research into the cultures you plan to represent the way you would with any other form of media. Just because the audience can’t see the characters and just because it’s harder to smoothly introduce the character’s appearance doesn’t mean you’re allowed to be lazy on how you present the characters. Do research before you start writing the first episode and take the time to hire poc actors. Hiring poc actors is actually the least that can be done to show representation. Also, since the audience cannot visually see the race of the characters on a podcast and it can’t typically be described the way you would in a book, you’ll have to be creative. It’s not my job to say how, but my suggestions would be, before the fans come up with their own image of the character, you need to establish race in the first few episodes or release character profiles on a website so that the fans know you canonically intended the characters to be of a certain race even if you aren’t able to mention it in the actual podcast. If you are unwilling to do any of these then the best route is to avoid stating race at all and allow the audience to build their own representation into your form of media. However, once this happens, you are not allowed to profit off popular fan interpretations. You lose all rights to create official art or images of the characters. You cannot use “we have a diverse cast of characters” when you market your story. It doesn’t matter whether you created the content or not, you did not create the representation for those minority groups.

It’s one thing for fans to build their own inclusivity into a form of art like a podcast, but it’s another thing for the creators who never worked to make the representation happen to take advantage of the representation that the listeners built for themselves. Thank you for attending my TedTalk.

#the penumbra podcast #podcast #race #the magnus archives #diversity in podcasts #diversity #tpp #tpp fanart

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littleoddwriter · 3 years

Text

Heavy Heart | Roman Sionis x Male!Reader

Another Vent Fic, sorry. This time with Arrowverse!Roman Sionis (Batwoman Season 2), though. The episodes still aren’t out here, but I think I’ve seen enough Clips to at least get his voice and feel right. Sorry if not (in case anyone even ends up reading this).

summary; You’re struggling with personal issues, regarding your interpersonal relationships. Roman unexpectedly shows up at your doorstep and you have a heart-to-heart.

notes; Male!Reader; Reader has Borderline Personality Disorder; Favourite Person (FP); Rejection; Abandonment Issues; Spiralling; Mild Dissociation; Self-Harm (Scratching and Cutting); Blood; Hurt/Comfort; Unexpected Visit; Love Confessions; Soft Kisses; Hugs; Little Dialogue.

It’s only been a couple of months, since you and Roman have started dating. Honestly, you’d never expected it to happen at all. You’ve been his assistant at Janus Cosmetics for over two years at that point, while you’ve been silently crushing on him the entire time. So to say that you were ecstatic about the fact that he liked you, too, would’ve been an understatement.

Naturally, as it always happened, Roman has become your new Favourite Person all too quickly and crushingly. Of course, at this point in your still blooming relationship you couldn’t care less, because you were happy, you were on top of the world when you only thought about him and the way he kissed you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

Still, in the back of your mind, this tiny voice kept reminding you that every time you’ve had an FP in your life, it didn’t end well; and it never lasted very long – a year tops, maybe. So, you were cautious, like you always were. You were hyper aware of everything you said and did around him; how often you texted him; how fast you responded to him; how many gifts you made for him and how much time passed in-between them. All so you wouldn’t fuck it up by being too much or too little. You were desperately trying to find this golden balance between it all.

The last time you had a Favourite Person wasn’t too long ago, actually. They had still been it when Roman has asked you on your first date with him. But not even a week afterwards, they had suddenly stopped responding to your texts and ignored you. They had never tried to contact you again and you were far too afraid and anxious to do it on your own accord after too much time has passed already. After all, you had already convinced yourself that they had lost interest in you and hated your guts all of a sudden.

Of course, you had tried to forget about them, which was made a little easier by the fact that your entire focus was on one Roman Sionis. Still, it didn’t prevent you from thinking about this supposed friend at least once a day, if not more, and wondering where it had gone wrong and if the same would happen with Roman very soon. It was bound to happen after all, and since this particular friendship had ended so very suddenly after not even four months, you could only fear how long your relationship with Roman would last.

Every single day, you tried your damnedest not to ponder too much and let anxiety overtake your body. Instead, you attempted to just focus on Roman and how much you loved him, which was a whole lot and far too much, to the point where it caused your chest to hurt. Often times, you wondered if it would be acceptable of you to already say those three particular words to him, or if that would ruin everything. You were incredibly uncertain, and he never seemed as though he was going to say them any time soon. Either way, you forced yourself to be patient and not fuck everything up again.

The fact that Roman had asked you out, even though he very much knew about your BPD diagnosis had shocked you to your core, but it somewhat calmed you down to know that it wasn’t a secret between you two (you had even checked in with him if he really knew upon his question). Still, you often wondered if he was truly aware of how much baggage you had on your shoulders and just how exhausting it could be to be in a relationship with a person who had this particular disorder – not only for you, but for him as well.

As the months have stretched on with barely an incident between you two, you had allowed yourself to get a tiny bit more comfortable. Whether or not you should regret it was beyond you, when your best friends have suddenly ceased to respond to your texts and more and more people around you have seemed to ignore you. At first you’ve given it all some time and tried not to jump to conclusions, because you knew they were all busy with their own lives and weren’t always in the mood to talk or text – and you respected that, you knew exactly what that was like.

But as two days have turned into four and essentially a whole week, you couldn’t help yourself anymore.

Feelings of utter loneliness and rejection overcame you in waves. You’ve been short of crying every couple of minutes; your chest hurt so much; your skin felt so tight – you desperately wanted to claw it off.

Then, you started to isolate yourself more and more. At work, you acted mostly normal, just like always – putting on this mask of being fine and a good worker – when in reality, your entire world was falling apart piece by piece.

None of it went past Roman, of course, he was way too perceptive for that. But when he asked you what was wrong, you deflected the question and said that it wasn’t important, it would be okay in a few hours or days anyway.

That wasn’t the case, though.

It didn’t get better at all. The feelings just wouldn’t go away. Every time you looked at your phone and saw all the unanswered messages you’d sent out to people weeks and months ago made your heart heavy and your chest tighten painfully. The more time passed, the worse it got.

Eventually, you also just couldn’t help wondering about Roman and doubting his interest in you. Was he truly interested in you at all? Would he have enough of you soon? Would he drop you gently or harshly? Would you even still have a job when he did? Fuck, it certainly wasn’t the best idea to date your boss, was it?

As you sat at your desk at home, preparing Roman’s schedule for the next week, your phone suddenly pinged. Immediately you took it into your hands to see if it was Roman – he was the only one who you were talking to at all anymore, after all. But then you saw that it was your previous Favourite Person, the one right before Roman. They had reacted to something you had posted on social media. They had commented on it as though they hadn’t suddenly stopped talking to you months ago.

As soon as you saw it, your eyes burned with tears that suddenly pricked them, your heart clenched so painfully and your skin was crawling. You were hurt and confused. It was all too much.

Just half an hour before that you had exchanged a few texts with an acquaintance you had on social media, which was as unfulfilling as it always had been. They clearly didn’t care about you, since they would never once truly ask how you were feeling, but in fact only talked about themselves and their life’s struggles. You were nothing but a tool for them to vent their worries to without an ounce of care in what you had to say in the least. It was a role you’d been very much used to, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

So, naturally all of this was a lot for you to process – too much, really – and you felt so many negative emotions all at once. They were crushing you. You were in agony.

As the urge to hurt yourself to relieve the emotional pain and exchange it with a temporary physical one overcome you, you forced yourself to take a few deep breaths and distract yourself first, before you did something you would later regret.

Unfortunately, it only lasted for a few minutes at a time, as the urge became bigger and your anguish stronger.

Only a few hours later, you decided to shower and as soon as you got dressed, you couldn’t even think twice before your fingernails met your neck’s skin and scratched it open. You stared at yourself in the mirror as your hands just kept on moving, all across your neck and collarbones, scratching away intensely until it was bright red, irritated and bleeding.

For a moment, you inspected the fresh wounds.

It still wasn’t enough.

You quickly disinfected the irritated, scratched-open areas and then proceeded to take out the small blade you kept in the drawer below your bathroom sink. Then, you pressed it against your inner forearm and drew a small, deep line with it, causing blood to well up instantly as sharp pain shot through you. You set the blade down and squeezed around your wound, forcing out more blood. You desperately needed to see it flow out of you.

A few seconds passed and you took the blade back into your hand and rested it a few inches below your fresh cut.

You hesitated.

Shaking your head, you put it back into the drawer and instead nursed your still bleeding wound.

After all, you’ve already done more than enough damage.

The loud and sudden ringing of your doorbell startled you and you quickly, but quietly, walked towards your apartment door to look through the peephole. Roman stood in front of your door.

Were you supposed to meet him and you forgot amidst all the pain you’ve been in?

Nervously, you opened the door and smiled at him. It hurt to smile. You could only guess how strained it must have looked, not to forget the angry red and mildly bleeding wounds on your neck that you had no way of hiding, then.

“Roman, wh- what are you doing here? Sorry, uh, come in first, maybe,” you stammered out your awkward greeting, stepping to the side to let Roman into your apartment, while your heart violently hammered against your rib cage.

“I’m sorry for suddenly coming by, but I’ve actually been in the area and thought I could pay you a little visit. I missed you,” he replied as he walked past you and hung his coat on the hook on the wall, “Besides, I tried to let you know by sending you a text, but I suppose you were busy showering by the looks of it.”

“Oh- yeah. Yes, sorry. It’s okay, though. I missed you, too. I’m glad to see you,” you responded softly, nervously looking around the room and avoiding his eyes.

Suddenly his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close, your bodies flush against one another. His left arm travelled up and around when he cupped your cheek with his hand and gently stroked his thumb over it, before he leaned in to kiss you on the lips. You were entirely too overwhelmed and still a little beside yourself, but you reciprocated the chaste kiss automatically and put your arms around his shoulders.

When he broke the kiss, he looked you over. You could feel the shame crawling beneath your skin, making you feel far too hot.

“I didn’t catch you at a good time, did I?” he inquired quietly, grazing his fingers over the wounds on your neck so very lightly so as not to hurt you more.

Because of how tight your throat felt, you could only shake your head and avert your gaze.

Roman heaved a deep sigh and kissed your forehead softly, “It’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to hide from me,” he murmured against your brow, “May I ask what’s caused this?”

Hesitating, you opened and closed your mouth a couple of times, so short of crying again, as you thought about whether or not it would scare him off if you told him the truth. In the end, you nodded, though.

“Let’s sit down first, please. Can I get you something to drink?” you said brokenly, daring to look at him for a second.

“Water, please.”

Quickly, you walked into the kitchen and got Roman a glass of water, while he sat down on your couch in the living room. Your hand was shaking when you passed him the glass and he looked at you with such a soft expression that it took your breath away.

Why wasn’t he up and running already?

When you sat down next to him, he set the glass down on the table in front of you two and put his arm around you, once more pulling you close against him. Your sides pressed together and you allowed yourself to rest your head against his shoulder.

“You can tell me as much or as little as you want, okay, my sweet boy?” he told you softly and kissed your temple shortly.

Nodding, you inhaled deeply and exhaled a shuddery breath. Then, you started to tell him everything that’s been going on lately and how much it all hurt. Sometime into your explanation the tears that have burned your eyes started to flow and run down your reddened face, leaving painful streaks behind. All the while, Roman was quietly shushing you and rubbing your upper arm soothingly, and peppering gentle kisses on the top of your head.

When you were done talking, you squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your entire body into Roman’s side in an attempt to both vanish and be close to him one last time, before he would leave you (at least that was what you’ve expected to happen anyway).

Instead, Roman wrapped his other arm around you as well and embraced you tightly, lovingly.

“I’m not going to leave you, baby. I’m not going anywhere. It angers me to know how much pain people have caused you in your life, especially as of late, but I won’t be one of them, alright?” he assured you and kissed your temple once more. “I love you, Y/N.”

Stopping to breathe altogether, you could barely believe what you’ve just heard.

Despite your disbelief, you choked out a quiet “I love you, too, Roman. So much”.

The issues that caused you so much pain in the first place may not have been solved with it, but you felt a little more secure in your relationship with Roman now, at least. That way, you could now quiet down these nagging thoughts in the back of your mind that kept telling you that he was going to drop you any second.

Sighing deeply, you relaxed a little and wrapped your arms around Roman’s middle as you pressed your face into his chest.

For the time being, you could pretend that everything was going to be alright.

#tw self harm #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #roman sionis #roman sionis x male reader #roman sionis fanfiction #black mask #black mask fanfiction #peter outerbridge #cw batwoman #batwoman roman sionis #arrowverse #arrowverse roman sionis

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desertno3 · 3 years

Text

everything comes back to you (sean wallace x fem!reader)

Sean Wallace is the love of your life and had been ever since you were both sixteen. This is why, in the aftermath of his father’s murder, you do everything you can to make sure no one lays a hand him.

5.4k words.

A/N: To think this all came from me watching this scene of Joe from Volume (2012) and thought… I need to write about bb Sean. There’s also this post which is mostly what was in my head when I wrote this. Also, I was going to say Sean being soft around the people he loves is my own personal headcanon but like… it is actual canon, lmao. It’s so easy to forget because the man is cold most of the time. Anyway, I clearly have too many thoughts about this character. Enjoy. (also formatting on tumblr is shit so if you want to read this with the formatting I intended, head over here to AO3)

prologue.

“What the hell are you up to?” Sean demands as he watches you bustle around your shared bedroom, effectively turning it upside down as you stuff your belongings into a travel bag.

“Business,” You say, hardly pausing to look at him.

“Business?” He scoffs like he doesn’t believe you. You don’t blame him. Finn died mere days ago and every day since then you’d been acting strange. Between consoling Sean and helping the Wallace family with the funeral arrangements, you’d been answering calls at random hours of the day and going off to meetings even though nearly all business operations under the Wallace Corporation had been halted. Sean had been too caught up in everything to question it but now that you’d just told him that you were flying off to god knows where for alleged business, he was suspicious.

“You know something, don’t you?”

You don’t reply.

“Tell me.”

When you remain silent, you see his jaw clench in anger but that’s not what makes your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. What gets to you is the hurt you can see in his eyes, hurt that his fiancé of all people is keeping things from him. You know it’s unfair to be doing this to him right now but you had no choice.

You walk up to him, taking his face in your hands.

“You just have to trust me on this, Sean,” You say softly. “Please.”

“I can’t trust anyone right now, y/n.” He says it like a plea. He needs you to be the one person he can trust one hundred percent, wants to be able to put you apart from the rest of the world who seemingly had it out for his family right now. He can’t do that when you’re acting like this.

The statement doesn’t hurt you in the slightest. You understand where he’s coming from, understand why he can’t even trust you, but still, you wish he did.

“You can always trust me,” You tell him but you know it won’t be enough. That’s confirmed when his gaze goes steely and he pries your hands from his cheeks.

“If you step out that door, don’t bother coming home.”

You step back like you’d been burned by the ultimatum. “Sean, don’t-”

He shakes his head.

“Whatever you’re doing, I hope it’s worth it.”

_________________________________________________

one.

“It’s just so annoying, you know?” You huff, falling back onto Sean’s bed and pressing the heels of your palms into your eyelids. You’re sixteen and in the throes of teen angst, irritated by the confines of your parents’ demands regarding what you currently could and couldn’t do at that age.

“Yeah, I know,” Sean replies in solidarity from where he stands near the window.

You let out a sigh, the anger that was bubbling in your chest starting to dissipate now that you’d finished venting about it.

You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you don’t realise Sean has moved from his spot across the room to the bed beside you. The mattress dips a little as he sits and slowly lies back so he’s parallel to you.

You move your hands away from your eyes and your heart jolts when you crane your neck to look at him and realise how close he is.

“Thanks for listening to my ranting,” You murmur, starting to feel guilty that you’d come over to hang out only for it to end up being just him listening to your tirade.

He lets out a small chuckle. “Anytime.”

You smile gratefully, your heart rate accelerating as you continue to stare into his eyes. God, you like him so much. You have for a while now. As he inches closer, and you don’t know whether it’s deliberate on his part or not, you wonder what it would be like if you just kissed him right there.

“Y/n…” He says hesitantly, his gaze flicking down to your lips for a fraction of a second. “Can I-”

“Ooooh, Sean and y/n,” Billy sing-songs obnoxiously from the doorway - the doorway that both you and Sean had forgotten was wide open.

Sean leaps up from the bed and growls at his brother, who continues to tease him unfazed.

“Fuck off, Billy!”

He slams the door shut and everything descends into silence once more. You sit up and watch as Sean remains at the door, his shoulders tense. You get up and make your way over to him, feeling bolder than you ever have in your life.

“Sean,” You say softly, grabbing his attention.

He turns to you, the look in his eyes hesitant, and you use that opportunity to press your lips to his. You pull away just as quickly, gauging his reaction, but then he pulls you towards him again and this time the kiss is deeper, needier. Your hands steady yourself against his chest as his own move up to cup your jaw.

You’re both breathless when you pull away, sporting matching shy smiles as you look at each other.

“I really like you, y/n,” Sean confesses and your heart feels like it could burst.

“I really like you, too, Sean.”

When you and Sean get accepted into different universities, it worries you more than you let on. It would be the furthest away you’d ever lived from him and you were worried about what that meant for you both. You’d spent your last years of high school falling deeper and deeper in love with him and you weren’t ready to let him go. Not now, not ever.

“Hey,” He murmurs, noticing you’d spaced out again. “What’s wrong?”

You shrug it off but he’s not buying it. He shifts on the couch so that he’s sitting facing you and takes your hands in his.

"Talk to me.”

You end up telling him everything. How you don’t like that you’re not going to be able to see him as often as you do now, how you’re worried that the distance might put a strain on the relationship, how you really, really don’t like the idea of breaking up with him.

You half expect him to brush it off or to tell you that you’ve got nothing to worry about but he doesn’t.

“I don’t like it either,” He admits. “It’s going to be awful being so far away from you but it’s only a couple of years, yeah? We can do that. And then I’ll start working for my dad and you’ll start working for some cool startup and we can move into a flat in London. You and me.”

While your boyfriend’s vision of your future together warms your heart, you’re still hung up on the ‘couple of years’ you were going to be a good distance from each other.

“Babe,” He says, bringing your attention back to him. “We’re going to be okay.”

You nod, finally relenting and agreeing with him. There was no point in letting yourself get eaten alive with worry, not when he clearly loved you just as much as you loved him. It was going to be okay.

“I love you,” You tell him and he smiles, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

“I love you too.”

Sean’s vision of the future wasn’t too far off. You manage to secure a flat just before you both graduate and by the end of the summer, you’d moved in. Sean starts working immediately alongside Alex at the Wallace Corporation and you spend about eight months working for a new tech startup on the other side of London before Finn Wallace offers you a job. It goes over with Sean just as well as you expected it would - which was not well at all.

“Are you really going to throw away everything you’ve worked hard for? To be my dad’s fucking assistant?”

You sigh in exasperation. “I’m not throwing away anything, Sean! Do you think I’m that stupid? I’m going to use more of what I learned at uni as Finn’s assistant than I am now at that fucking sad excuse for startup and you know it!”

Sean knows you’re miserable where you currently work so you don’t know why he’s so against this.

“You don’t want me working with you, is that it?”

He sighs, palms pressing against his eyelids in frustration.

“No,” He says eventually. “No, it’s not that. It’s just… I don’t want my dad having a hold on the both of us. You’re supposed to be free from all the Wallace Corporation shit, out doing your own thing.”

Oh.

You step towards him and he instinctively wraps his arms around your waist. You press a light kiss to his lips, your fingers ghosting over the facial hair he had recently started sporting.

“Sorry to tell you this, Sean, but your dad’s had a hold on the both of us the moment we started dating. Maybe even before that. I’m sure if he didn’t approve of me, I would’ve been out of your life a long time ago.”

Sean grumbles at the realisation but he knows it's true.

You lovingly run your thumb over his cheek. "Nothing in London is out of Finn Wallace's reach."

You’re not a fool. You know Finn offered you this job for a very specific reason. If you were going to continue being with Sean, and at this point, everyone knew that was absolutely going to be the case, you were going to have to know how the company worked. And you weren’t against it. If Sean was to be the CEO one day, you refused to be the kind of wife who was oblivious to their husband’s dealings.

Gone is the youthful innocence of the lanky boy you fell in love with when you were sixteen. Sean is filled out and a lot more serious, trying to be more than what he is for his father’s sake. You suppose you're the same, too. It's not easy, being primed to eventually take over a multi-million dollar organisation (connected to an insidious underground one to boot) and Finn put just as much pressure on you as he did his son.

“It’s not my blood,” You mumble when Sean walks into the bathroom to find you soaking in the tub, the water around you a deep red. “Mostly.”

Wordlessly, he comes over and drains it before filling it back up with fresh water. You don’t move as he does so, still shaken and borderline catatonic from having just killed somebody for the first time. Sean doesn’t have to ask, he can just tell that’s what you’ve come back from. As he silently washes the blood from your skin, you look over to see his lips set in a tight line. You know he’s mad. Not at you. At his father, maybe. But there’s nothing he can do now. There’s no going back from this.

Everyone thinks you’re the power couple of the Wallace Corporation, steely and unfeeling, and you suppose in many ways you are but you also know that in other ways, you’re still the teenagers you were before, still completely and utterly smitten with one another.

“Hey,” Sean greets you, kissing your cheek before pulling out a chair and sitting beside you in the empty boardroom.

You look at him in surprise as he starts digging into some pre-packaged salad. “Hi. What are you doing?”

“Thought I’d have lunch with you.”

“It’s three in the afternoon.”

“The meeting ran overtime.”

You give him a sympathetic look and he rolls his eyes. “It’s fine. C’mere.”

You shuffle closer to him and let him tuck you under one arm while he forked salad into his mouth with the other.

“What have you been up to, hm?”

You let out an exhale, resting your head against his shoulder. “Meetings, same as you.”

You’re interrupted when Alex pops his head in with an apologetic look on his face, knowing he was disrupting a rare moment between you and Sean. Usually, the both of you would be so busy you’d only see each other in passing at work.

“Finn’s looking for you, y/n,” He tells you before disappearing again.

You sigh, getting up but not before kissing Sean on the cheek.

“I’ll see you at home.”

“Mm, see you.” He mumbles, swallowing his mouthful of salad before his hand shoots out to grab your wrist. “Wait, give me a proper kiss.”

You smile and comply, laughing when Sean pulls you back in for another and another.

“I have to go, Sean!”

“Alright, alright,” He says, letting you go. “I’ll see you later.”

"What's all this?" Sean asks when he comes home one night to find you in the kitchen looking like you’re in the middle of making a more elaborate dinner than usual.

"Just something to celebrate you finishing up that contract," You say, smiling when his arms circle your waist and his lips press a kiss to your cheek. "I was also thinking now that the contract's done, you've got all the time in the world to fuck me."

You all but squeal when he picks you up and carries you to the bedroom without a second thought.

"The food, Sean!"

"The food can wait," He murmurs, dropping you onto the bed. You giggle when he moves to hover above you, his lips brushing against yours. "I've got to take care of my fiancé first."

It’s those memories of your relationship with Sean that flood your mind as you lean against the brick wall of a Soho back alley, the hand pressing against the wound on your side not doing much to stop the blood seeping from your body faster than you would like.

Dread had filled you the moment you heard about Finn’s death and it had less to do with what happened to him and everything to do with the man you were engaged to, the one who was set to take over the company in his father’s wake. Despite Sean being the clear successor to the business, you knew Finn’s death would still leave a power vacuum in both London’s corporate and criminal worlds. You knew people would be out for Sean, trying to off him so that they could step up and take Finn’s place. And so, since the day Finn had died, you’d done everything you could to ensure Sean wouldn’t be harmed. Even after Sean’s heartbreaking ultimatum, you’d left and had been all over the country and London trying to stop the people that needed to be stopped. This last job you’d just carried out would have been it. It would have sealed the deal and would have kept Sean safe for good. Too bad you were probably going to die because of it.

You wince as your back slides further down the wall, your legs giving out and leaving you to drop unceremoniously onto the concrete. Each inhale felt like a billion knives entering your side and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

It was worth it, you think to yourself. It’s the last thought you have before your eyelids get too heavy to keep open, Sean’s last words to you echoing back in your mind. It may have cost you your life but was worth it if it meant you’d just ensured Sean would keep his for a long while.

_________________________________________________

two.

Despite the number of people crammed into your hospital room, the only sound to be heard is the steady beeping of the machines that had been attached to you. It had been a hell of a night for all of them and one that wasn’t over yet. Jacqueline’s frantic call to Sean about seeing you get wheeled into emergency surgery had cut short the tense discussion the Wallaces and Dumanis were having around the dining table. Sean had all but sped to the hospital, everyone else trailing behind him. Despite everything that had just been revealed to him that night, it all became secondary in comparison to the fact that Jacqueline had told him you were practically dying.

Everyone but Sean looks up when Ed steps back into the room, shoving his phone into his pocket.

“That was Jevan,” Ed announces to all of them. “Things have changed.”

“What things?” Marian asks, the tone in her voice still bitter. It’s a wonder neither she nor Sean have kicked the Dumanis out of the room but it was because there was still so much to be discussed - especially now that you were back in the picture and what happened to you remained unclear.

“The investors now want to keep Sean alive.”

A silence settles over the room at Ed’s revelation. It was mere hours ago that Alex had revealed it was the investors who wanted Sean dead.

“She knew,” Sean mutters, finally speaking up. His eyes raking over your nearly-lifeless face as you lay unconscious on the hospital bed and his mind thinks back to the last conversation he had with you. Business, you had told him then. Now, he had no doubt you had something to do with the investors’ most recent decision. “She knew they wanted me dead.”

“How?” It’s Alex who asks, vocalising the same thought Sean had been turning over and over in his mind. “How did she know where to find them? Who to talk to?”

No one has an answer. The machines beep steadily, filling in the silence until Ed sighs, a realisation dawning on him.

“Finn,” He states like that alone makes the answer clear. “She would’ve known through Finn. Think about it. When she was his assistant, he made her go with him to nearly every meeting he had.”

Everyone in the room was aware of the latter, of course. It was part of your job. It had even been a point of contention between Sean and his father at one point, why you were let in on meetings that he should’ve been in on too if he was going to take over the company one day. "She’s just there to make the coffee, son," Finn had laughed but that wasn’t true in the slightest. You were the one who took down the minutes, noted down anything of importance, kept tabs on any and all of Finn’s dealings with everybody. That was your job and through it, you ended up knowing more about the business than anyone else and you didn’t even realise it. You didn’t realise just how much you knew, how much knowledge you could use as leverage, as blackmail, until Sean’s life was on the line.

After Finn died, you did wonder whether he knew what he was setting you up for when he hired you, wondered if he always knew Sean would eventually need protecting and knew that you would do it without hesitation if you had the capability to do so.

It’s Ed, here in the hospital room, who comes to the realisation that he absolutely did.

“She knows more about Finn’s dealings with the investors than all of us in this room combined,” He continues. “Because he never actually needed her to be his assistant. He needed her to be someone who would know how to talk to them. To protect the company and its successor from them if need be.”

“Successor?” Marian asks. “You mean Sean?”

Ed nods and everyone jumps as Sean suddenly throws his fist against the bedside table in anger before whirling on the older man.

“You knew about this,” He seethes. “You knew he was doing this and you just let it happen.”

“I didn’t know this was his reasoning behind it, Sean, I promise you. But it makes sense. As his son, protecting you was a priority. Through her, Finn made sure you’d be kept safe.”

"Fuck that.” Sean spits in anger. “Fuck that. She's a priority too. You hear me? She needs to be kept safe too because if she's not alive I may as well be fucking dead."

_________________________________________________

three.

“I should’ve fucking realised that’s what she was up to. I should’ve fucking known,” Sean mutters as he looks at you, still lying there unconscious. “She risked everything for me.”

“Are you surprised?” Marian asks him. It’s just the two of them in the room now.

She, for one, isn’t surprised in the slightest. Having known you most of your life, she knew you had it in you. Maybe Finn saw that too, since it was what he ended up priming you for.

Sean sighs. He’s not surprised either. What he mostly feels is anger - at his late father for putting you in that position to begin with - and shame. He’s ashamed that while you were bending over backwards to try and keep him alive, he was doing fuck all for you. He'd even broken your fucking heart in the process. He’d regretted it the second you’d left the flat but he couldn’t get into contact with you afterwards. Either you’d changed your number or you weren’t answering his calls. He’d even hired a fucking private investigator to find out where you’d gone and what you were up to but they hadn’t come back with anything solid enough that could lead him to you. It was like you’d disappeared off the face of the earth.

"She paid you off,” Sean says bluntly the moment the PI enters the hospital room. It’s not a question. After everything that had surfaced in the last twenty-four hours, it clicked into Sean’s mind the reason the private investigator couldn’t find anything on you.

"She did,” They confirm.

Sean swears under his breath. He curses that fact that you were too good at this and curses the fact that it was probably Finn that taught you how, the same way Finn taught him. He should’ve fought harder to stop you from accepting his dad’s job offer. All those years ago.

“She paid me off,” The PI says. "But that doesn’t mean I didn't do my job."

Sean is handed a folder full of notes on your movements and a flash drive full of photos they’d snapped from a distance.

"You are a very lucky man, Sean Wallace. To have someone like her in your life."

_________________________________________________

four.

To say you’re surprised when you open your eyes to a sterile hospital room is an understatement. You were so sure you had no chance of getting out of that alley alive. Still groggy, you briefly wonder if it was the investors who managed to get you here in time - the strange puppet masters that they were - but your train of thought is halted when you realise Sean’s sister is in the room with you, sitting beside your hospital bed.

“About time you woke up,” Jacqueline says softly, a kind smile on her face. “How’re you feeling?”

Her question brings your attention to the relentless ache you feel all over your body.

“Like shit.”

She hums. “Well, you’re lucky you aren’t dead. You gave us all a scare getting wheeled in here the way you did.”

You shift a little, trying to get yourself in a position that would ease the pain somewhat. “How’s Sean?”

Jacqueline has to stop herself from rolling her eyes because of course that’s what’s on your mind right now. You coming back from the verge of death asking about Sean ran in a similar vein to the way Sean had been adamant about not leaving the hospital since you’d been admitted. Like two peas in a pod, she thinks. Always have been.

“He’s just out in the hall, actually,” She informs you. “On the phone to mum. He’s not going to be pleased he wasn’t here when you woke up.”

“But he’s okay?” You ask her.

“He’s okay.”

You let out the breath you didn’t realise you were holding, your head sinking further into the pillow.

“Good,” You say, shutting your eyes in relief. “That’s good.”

Only a few seconds pass before you hear the door open and shut and a heart-achingly familiar voice break the silence.

“How is she?”

Again, Jacqueline has to keep herself from rolling her eyes. Her brother would always ask that same question every time he returned to the room, no matter if he was gone for an hour or for just a couple of minutes. At least this time, she was glad to give him an answer other than ‘she’s the same as she was when you left’.

“She’s awake.”

Your eyelids flutter open and your heart jumps when your gaze lands on Sean.

“I’ll leave you both to it,” Jacqueline smiles when she looks between her brother and yourself. She comes over and rests her hand on yours. “I’m really glad you’re alive, y/n.”

You give her a grateful smile and watch her leave before your eyes flicker back to the man standing at the door. He looks healthy, you note to yourself. Exhausted, but healthy.

“Sean,” You whisper, breaking the silence.

“Hey,” He says softly, approaching your bedside. You slowly sit up and tears start to pool in your eyes at the sight of him here, so close to you. Safe and alive. He notices and reaches out to wipe away the stray tears that had rolled down your cheeks.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” He murmurs and you have to hold back a sob.

"I did it for you, Sean," You can barely get the sentence out, your voice catching as you start to get choked up by emotion. "Everything I did-"

"I know," He says, cupping your face tenderly. His eyes are glassy too. "I know."

“I couldn’t let them hurt you. I couldn’t-”

You stop as your tears start to flow uncontrollably. You’d kept so much of your emotions at bay as you dealt with everything and now that it was all done, they were spilling over in waves. He gently pulls you into his embrace as you cry, mindful of your injuries. One hand strokes your hair comfortingly as you cling to him, soaking the front of his shirt with your tears. You keep muttering apologies into his chest and he has to tell you to stop because you have nothing to be sorry for. He should be the one apologising, he thinks. No matter what he does for you for the rest of his life nothing would come close enough in magnitude to what you’d just done for him.

You sniffle as your sobs finally start to subside but you don’t let go of him just yet.

“I want to come home, Sean,” You say quietly, your cheek still pressed against his chest.

“You are home,” He assures you, his arms affectionately squeezing you ever so slightly. "You're here with me. You're already home."

_________________________________________________

epilogue.

Sean barely leaves your side while you recover - not for business, not for anything.

“The company needs you, Sean.”

He shakes his head. “Alex has it covered. You need me.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Believe me, I know. But still. In sickness and in health, right?”

You snort. “We’re not married yet.”

His arms wrap around your waist.

“But we will be,” He murmurs. “I would’ve married you a long time ago if I had it my way.”

“My mother would’ve murdered you.”

Sean chuckles, all too aware of it.

It was about a year and a half into your university lives that Sean decided he genuinely wanted to marry you and, of course, he had run it by your mother.

“I’ll give you my blessing, Sean,” She had told him. “But only if you promise me you’ll give it a few years until you propose.”

“Just trust me on this, okay?” She said after Sean had frowned and asked her why. “I know you love her and I know she loves you but there’s no need to rush.”

Sean had agreed reluctantly but now, years later, he understands where she was coming from. At the time, he had naively been sure there was nothing the two of you couldn’t handle. You’d both handled being at different universities so well, after all. Now, he cringes at the fact that that was his metric but he figures he couldn’t blame himself. At that age, he definitely never anticipated having to deal with all the shit life had thrown at you both in the last few months alone. He’s somewhat grateful your mum told him to wait because now, after everything, he’s more sure than he ever was about the fact that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

You’re finally back home, in your own bed, lying on your back because it’s the only comfortable way you can lay down with all your stitches and injuries yet to fully heal. You turn your head to look at Sean and you smile. He’s on his back as well, the both of you craning your necks awkwardly to look at each other.

“What?” He asks.

“This is very familiar.”

He snorts, knowing exactly what you’re referring to. He props himself up on his elbow and looks down at you.

“At least this time I’m not scared to do this.”

Your eyelids flutter close as he leans down to press his lips to yours. You reciprocate, leaning up to deepen the kiss before pain shoots up your side, making you hiss.

“Sorry,” He murmurs, pulling away.

“It’s fine, just the stitches.”

His thumb grazes over your cheek. “Rest.”

He smiles at the way you huff. You never did like staying still.

You let out a content sigh, sinking back in your office chair. It had felt like a lifetime since you’d been in here and finally being back felt like you were putting in the final piece in the puzzle. It was the last thing you needed to feel like everything was starting to go back to normal.

A knock on the door grabs your attention, Sean popping in to check on you. “You ready?”

You nod, gingerly getting up and following him to the boardroom for the family meeting.

“So you know Alex and I have been talking,” Sean says to you once everyone had filed in and taken their seats. “About what will be best for the business going forward.”

You nod.

“Things have settled down and we’ve managed to broker temporary agreements with everyone to keep them in line. However, we need to guarantee they won’t act out in the future. So we need someone heading the company who they will listen to, someone who they trust. Alex wants to continue doing the finances and I’m better off sticking to making the buildings so… we were wondering if you would be the CEO.”

Your expression goes slack in shock. “What?”

“We’ve run it by Ed and mum and they agree, too. You’re our best bet.”

You look between everyone in the room, bewildered. “Why?”

“Because you know more about dealing with the investors and shareholders than any of us,” Alex says. “You saw first-hand how Finn did his business with them, something me and Sean rarely did. And they not only know you personally but they trust you, too.”

“Y/n,” Ed pipes up. “Whether he did it deliberately or not, Finn taught you everything he knew about the most important part of running this corporation. Alex knows finance and sales, Sean knows property and asset management but you? He specifically taught you how to bargain. And bargaining and making deals is part of what keeps the Wallace Corporation on top.”

“All our shareholders, the investors, they’ll be okay with this?” You ask.

Ed gives you a look, “You tell us.”

The weight of the responsibility hits you in full force but you’re surprised when you don’t feel scared. You feel sure. They were all right, you’d been doing this already.

You nod. “They will be.”

And it’s not a threat so much as it’s just pure confidence on your part. You knew their strengths, their weaknesses, you knew you would be able to keep them in line with your words, either finding mutual ground or using certain things as leverage to get what the company needed. You could bargain with them the same way you’d bargained for Sean’s life. You could do this.

You meet Sean’s eyes across the boardroom table and he smiles at you, pride blooming in his chest at the thought of his girl, the one he had fallen head-over-heels for at sixteen, being the CEO of his dad’s company. You smile in return. God, you loved him. Your entire world, your whole heart, belonged to him. And his to you. It always had been, and it always would be.

_________________________________________________

End notes: The first kiss setting in one. I took straight from Volume, lol, and then two. is set after that meeting scene at the end of Episode 7 of Gangs but I’ve taken some liberties with that meeting and diverged from canon right before Ed tells them Finn never wanted Sean near the business because Sean’s reaction to that hurts my heart. So that’s not a thing in my fic world. Anyway! Too many thoughts about this show. Let me know if you enjoyed this fic!

#sean wallace x reader #gangs of london fanfiction #*writing #sean wallace #gangs of london #sean wallace fic #sean wallace imagine #gangs of london fic #sean wallace fanfic

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thirstybtsthoughts · 3 years

Note

So I'm curious how many asks do you get and do you answer all of them?

Hi!

This ask has reminded me to do that FAQ post that I keep forgetting about 🥺.

So, short answer is that these days (as the followers keep coming) I get more asks than I can answer 😭.

Long answer is that I used to be able to answer almost every ask (I wouldn't answer inappropriate or repetitive ones). I made a point of trying to answer them all because I feel like I owe it to you guys as you take the time to interact with me and share your thoughts so nicely. I'm so thankful for this space and I love receiving each and every ask 🥰. Also, back then I wasn't working and didn't have any major commitments so I had time to be here and read/answer everything.

Now however, the followers keep coming (hello new followers!) and the asks, though not a massively unbearable amount, are a little too many for me to be able to answer every single one.

It actually pains me when I don't have time to answer, because naturally I hate letting people down, I genuinely want to listen to everything you all have to say and I want to be a person who is here for you in troubling times.

However, I am merely one person, I work two jobs, have family commitments, have family troubles, have mental health troubles, try to have a social life (though mostly non existent), am looking for a hubby (yes, in my culture it's how it works) and spends time on other hobbies/activities. Time is too short in every case 😭

The thing is, reading, taking a moment to appreciate (bc damn do y'all send some good thirst 🥵), and answering an ask takes longer than it may seem. Especially if it's a long one 🥺. I can't and don't want to just rush through them all and bang them out quickly.

I also hate having to close my inbox because I want you to be able to drop in anytime you want, if its to vent, thirst, ask for help, anything at all 🥰.

I'm so so so sorry if you've sent something that hasn't been answered (yet). I do have quite a lot to read and answer right now. Sometimes I feel like I'm wasting my time answering older asks, as alot of them are about what that person is feeling in the moment, and by the time I get to it they may no longer care, but then again I feel bad if I left it completely, so maybe responding is better than not responding at all.

This is getting long lol but I have alot to say. As this blog has been running for a couple of years now, and new followers continue to drop in, please note that there are topics that have been discussed in depth before. Recently, I keep getting alot of asks talking about these same things and I know it's not your fault as you don't know, but I do end up repeating myself alot 🥺. So if anyone is even reading this far, please go to my masterlist or advice section incase what you're looking for is there.

To those who tell me to stop sexualising the guys. No. I won't. And your asks just end up getting deleted. So there's no point wasting your energy.

To those who just drop a tiktok/instagram/twitter link and say nothing else. It's no fun, at least tell me what you thought of it or how it makes you feel.

To those who make requests for fics... I so badly want to write everything you want, like really truly want to. I have so many ideas myself too. But again there's just no time 😭😭😭. Also I do need to be in a good mindset for it, which just doesn't happen these days. I usually save your requests for the future incase I need inspiration and end up being able to write it.

About today... there were quite alot of asks about Jungkook's piercing and it got too much for me that I had to just answer what I could, I did get frustrated and leave for a while. Whatever, I’m human. It just got so repetitive. If it's already been said, I don't need 20 asks all saying the exact same 😩.

One more thing. I'm sorry that I can't reply to your comments on posts. This is a secondary blog and tumblr won't let me respond to comments using this blog 😭. But I do see each and every one of them and massively appreciate them! We’re all here to help each other and thirst with each other over these seven men, so yessss let’s make it the warmest, safest space for every single person!

Ultimately, I don't want anyone to feel like they've been ignored. I truly read every single ask even if I don’t answer them all.

Oh my goddd I’m so sorry this got so long 😭. I really need to do a FAQ 😭.

I love and appreciate each and every one of you 🥺💜. Please stay here with me in our little void of the internet for as long as you can 🥰. I get attached to you all so fast 😭

#I feel like this is so negative and I really don’t want it to be #just trying to explain a little about it all #anon #asks

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oblivionbladetd · 3 years

Text

Lily Orchard’s 100 writing tips break down my sanity 31-40

It depends on the story being told, it really does. Though I can’t fully disagree, mostly because a story does need to be told, and if the story is about a few characters in a world, this is completely fair. If the story is about the world, go ham, worldbuild your heart out.

You do need a vessel to explore the world you’ve made so this is a bit of a no duh, but is worth saying.

This is calling out something specific I just know it. Either way it’s not fantastic advice, though I suppose making a protagonist as dull as cardboard and the antogonist a force of raw show-stealing charisma may not be in your best interest.... So I guess just chalk it up as Lily hates early 90′s action shows and Hazbin. I don’t know or really care.

Uhh, no. It depends on the story being told. I’d dignify the point more, but I feel like this is just SU salt and where I can agree it wasn’t the best there, it can and has been done better elsewhere.

Not writing advice, it’s business advice and isn’t good there either.... Where did you get this lil factoid Lily? People can do both, people do both. To pull a lily I’ll just say in complete confidence she found it behind her tonsils after fruitlessly searching her whole digestive system bottom to top for it.

Why was it not part of rule 2 then?... People do like that, it adds that little bit of tension that makes the show worth keeping up with, as low stakes as it is... I’ve read Poke-madhouse. That severe lack of any lasting conflict hurts it a lot. but that’s both a different can of worms and not directly related to the point so moving on...

Okay I don’t know what gay reylo is, but the she-ra drop... actually what the fuck really is this really saying? As a tip from me if you are writing anything and have tabs of tvtropes open, you’re doing it wrong.

This is not a writing tip, it is a vague ass callout post. and that is about as far as I am willing to touch this one.

Please missuss Lily, may I have some writing advice? Seriously this is just venting and I am having a hard time pulling anything from it. This is just fan ship wars and shit... I guess don’t write an abusive relationship as a good thing? Sure, good ‘nough.

Okay this just isn’t writing advice and no shit Sherlock? Nothing to glean here to further writing, block assholes, golly gee...

Almost halfway there...

#lily orchard

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cuinawen · 3 years

Text

Being Obvious

A Clint Barton/Bella Swan one shot

3175 words

Bella has a crush, Natasha thinks it’s a little obvious but Clint needs a nudge in the right direction before he’ll make a move

Warnings: language, suggestive themes

~*~0~*~

The chime of the elevator sounded, echoing just slightly across the open space and Clint froze for a split second before something akin to panic hit. Not that he would ever admit that he panicked about anything… ever.

He’d been in the middle of setting up for his latest prank, which would be ruined if he was caught in the act, so without a thought he hopped up onto the counter and pulled himself up into a large air vent, carefully closing the grate behind him.

It took only a few seconds, so by the time he could hear a familiar laugh he was out of sight, no trace left that he’d been there.

It wasn’t the first time he’d used these vents as a means of traversing the tower (which was how he’d known this particular grate was unscrewed already), so shifting as quietly as he could, he settled in to wait and watch until the room was empty again, a small grin forming as he saw his two favourite women enter the room.

“I mean really,” Natasha bemoaned, a wry grin on her face as she referenced a recent incident with a former S.H.I.E.L.D agent, “Is it really so hard to find a guy that won’t damn near wet himself just because he accidentally saw me nude, all I was doing was having a quick shower. Honestly, he reacted worse than Steve did that one time.”

“Steve? You mean Cap? Nooo,” Bella gaped, her eyes shining with amusement.

“Yep, he got all red and did that ‘looking anywhere but you’ thing that he does. I wasn’t even completely bare,” Natasha smirked, “I told him that was the only time he’d ever get away with calling me ma’am.”

Clint watched silently from the vent as Bella descended into laughter, suddenly feeling like he maybe shouldn’t be listening in to this conversation. As much as he loved that Natasha had unusually taken a liking to the shy woman since she’d started with the team as their medic, and unofficial lab manager under Bruce, her attempts to draw Bella out of her shell sometimes made him a little unsettled.

He had a hard enough time keeping Bella from straying into his thoughts at the best of times.

She was tiny and cute, adorably awkward, made him laugh, and had the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen. She made his inner Neanderthal want to just drag her off to his room so he could keep her all to himself while he did things with her that you didn’t discuss in polite company.

Of course, he wasn’t about to actually tell her that. Rejection would be one thing, but there was no way he wanted to make things awkward for the team if she didn’t feel anything for him; and as good as he usually was at reading people, he just didn’t know when it came to her.

Bella snickered as she snapped a fresh pod into the coffee machine and hit the button waiting for it to start up.

“So, what about you?” Natasha asked suddenly, making her blink in surprise.

“Me? No, no one’s been seeing me naked.” Bella grinned, making Natasha snort inelegantly.

“I think that’s the problem,” She cackled, bumping Bella lightly with her elbow, “What about finding you a guy?”

The sudden rosy blush that spread from Bella’s cheeks right down her chest took Clint by surprise, and he was surprised neither of the women appeared to have heard him fidgeting uncomfortably in the metal vent as he wondered just how far down that blush actually went.

If he’d been paying closer attention he might have seen the tiny spark of awareness that flickered across Natasha’s face.

“So… there is a guy you want then,” She pressed, giving Bella her best faux intimidating stare.

Bella’s face felt like it was absolutely flaming as she looked at the older woman, trying to think of any way to get out of this line of questioning.

“It’s Clint isn’t it?” Natasha asked bluntly, already knowing the answer and grinning when Bella twitched, “Don’t even try to deny it, you know you want him as your own personal Cupid.”

The dry amused tone plus the bizarre imagery had Bella laughing in spite of herself.

“Okay, okay,” She finally admitted sheepishly, “Yeah… I mean, it’s just his smile, and the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs…and oh god, those arms.”

“Not to mention he’s got a really fine ass.” Natasha leaned forward with a grin her voice low and conspiratorial, and then chuckled when Bella’s eyes widened comically, “What? Just because I don’t see him that way, doesn’t mean I don’t have eyes.”

Clint honestly wasn’t sure whether to blush or preen like a peacock at their words as he vaguely heard Bella humming in agreement while Nat laughed delightedly.

Well, now I know. A slow grin spread across his face, though it quickly creased into a frown as the conversation below him continued.

“Doesn’t matter,” Bella was smiling, though to a trained ear the sadness was clear in her voice, “I’m not sure he even notices I exist half the time.”

“Oh pfft, he notices,” Natasha disputed with a smirk, “And if he doesn’t make a move then he’s an idiot.”

Their travel mugs now filled with steaming coffee, both women turned to leave the kitchen, but not before Natasha turned slightly and looked right at the cover disguising the vent where Clint was perched, raising her eyebrows.

Of course, she knew I was here the whole time, Clint thought with a flash of wry amusement, damn woman knows everything.

His prank completely forgotten for the time being, he slid from his hiding place and scratched his head thoughtfully, frowning slightly at the stray cobweb that clung to the strands of hair under his fingers.

He needed a shower, and then he needed to think about seducing a tiny medic.

~*~0~*~

Bella had been completely serious when she’d admitted to Nat that she had a bit of a thing for the dirty-blond archer. In fact, she’d had a crush on him since she’d first met him, and it had made patching him up post-mission just a little awkward for her the few times he’d needed her to.

He’d put her at ease just by being himself though, cracking jokes and making her smile as she tended to him and whoever else might need it.

Natasha had been the first member of the team to invite Bella for coffee, taking a liking to the shy medic who had nerves of steel when it came to her job. Not many people could stand their ground against Tony, or be around Bruce without giving him fearful looks.

Then gradually she’d spent more and more time with the rest of the team, eventually being able to call them all friends. Even Thor, who’d intimidated the hell out of her the first time she’d been there for one of his visits until she realised he was a big softy when it came to the people he cared about.

The only person who was able to make her nervous now was Clint, though she wasn’t planning on admitting that. It didn’t help that something had changed recently, he was acting differently around her.

She had even asked Natasha if she’d mentioned anything to Clint about their conversation in the kitchen a couple of weeks before, but the former spy had just smirked and sworn up and down that she hadn’t said a word.

He just kept going sending panty dropping smiles her way, leaving her with a tingly warm feeling that made her heart stutter and her thighs clench each time it happened. It was getting harder to act normally around him.

Glancing across the room, Bella’s eyes automatically found him, and she inhaled sharply watching him tilt a beer bottle to his lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. Oh god, he’s hot.

The team had come back that day from successfully clearing a Hydra base with no injuries, and while Jarvis was sifting through the mountains of files they had acquired Tony had decided they should have a small celebration.

Unusually for Tony, he’d kept it small and not too extravagant. It was mostly just the team and any of their partners, plus a few people from the tower that they were close to, so it was pretty casual, especially now it was getting quite late. Everyone was there just letting their hair down and relaxing for a while.

“Watch it; you’ve got a little drool.”

Bella jumped and turned to half-heartedly swat at the laughing redhead who easily dodged her.

“You’re getting a bit obvious girl,” Natasha grinned, “And for that matter, so is he.”

“Huh? No way, he just likes to flirt a little,” Bella protested, trying not to get her hopes up despite the warm feeling Natasha’s words were giving her.

“I swear, you’re an idiot, a loveable idiot,” She rolled her eyes fondly, deciding to give her friends a helping hand, “Do you see him looking at anyone else like he’s wishing he could strip them naked with his eyes? He wants you. Trust me, I know Clint.”

“But…” Bella faltered, her wide eyes showing her vulnerability. There’s no way.

Somehow understanding what she was thinking, Natasha sighed and patted Bella’s arm lightly before turning to walk away, tossing one last comment over her shoulder.

“Trust me… and just so you know, he’s not a one night kind of guy.”

Bella swallowed heavily then took a sip of the beer she was holding to combat her suddenly dry mouth.

Somehow Clint had picked that exact moment to catch her eye, giving her the exact ‘naked wishes’ look Nat had described, and though she knew there was no way he could have heard what Nat had been saying Bella couldn’t help the blush that spread across her cheeks.

Clint’s lips quirked into a half smile, his eyebrows rising slightly as he looked across the room at the short brunette who was blushing prettily. Not for the first time, he wondered where that blush would spread to and he couldn’t resist a wink and a slow smirk around the top of the bottle as he drank.

Bella was glad Nat had gone to flirt with Bruce, who was endearingly oblivious as usual. At least she wasn’t there to witness Bella faltering as she tried not to give any outward signs of the effect he was having on her.

~*~0~*~

She was dying. She really was going to spontaneously combust and die.

All because of the man currently sat with his arm around her, his thumb lightly tracing back and forth over a small strip of exposed skin near her hip where her shirt had ridden up slightly.

The party had wound down and the core team were grouped together on the sofas off to the side of the room, drinking and laughing. Bella had switched to soda after a couple of beers, knowing she was a lightweight but was still enjoying herself.

Somehow she’d ended up squashed next to Clint on the sofa, and she wasn’t sure which was worse; the heated looks across the room or the tingling warmth down her side where she was pressed against him.

Then he had shifted suddenly, moving his arm so that it rested behind her instead of in between them, making Bella’s eyes shoot to his face. To her surprise, she’d found him looking down at her with an easy grin, his arm curling around her.

Somehow he was reducing her to a gooey mess, doing something that could still be considered innocent, while being able to appear completely focused on the conversation around them. Damn secret super assassin training.

She was terrible at hiding her emotions. In fact, right now she was sure it was written all over her face that she wanted nothing more than to be utterly ruined in all the best ways by the man next to her.

Judging by the slightly smug grin on Natasha’s face it appeared that assumption was correct, and Bella wondered if the only reason Tony hadn’t said anything was because he currently appeared to be very distracted by a tipsy Pepper.

Finally reaching her breaking point and feeling in desperate need of either a cold shower or some serious alone time, Bella carefully got up and excused herself, quickly saying goodnight to the group and completely missing the significant look Nat gave Clint.

Clint smirked at the look Nat gave him as she mouthed the words go get your girl. Her meddling was as amusing as it was beneficial. Few people would ever guess just how soft-hearted she was deep down when it came to the people she cared about.

Giving her a subtle mock-salute, he got up and followed behind Bella ignoring the curious glances he got from a few of the others.

She was leaning against the wall waiting for the elevator when he caught up to her, and the look somewhere between startled and shy and hopeful that crossed her face absolutely melted him.

Before he could second guess himself, he was standing right in front of her. Their bodies close enough that each inhale of breath made her chest push up against his almost teasingly.

Bracing one hand against the wall next to her head, Clint lightly cupped her neck with the other, his thumb resting on her cheek. He could feel her heart thumping, racing under his fingertips and it made him grin slightly.

“Am I making you nervous, little swan?”

His voice was low and sultry, stirring up a wave of desire that crashed through her as he stroked his thumb across her cheek, his body pressing deliciously against hers.

The small needy sound that bubbled up from her throat would have embarrassed her, if Clint wasn’t now pressing her tighter to the wall, his hands running almost possessively down her sides and over her hips.

“Feels like we’ve been dancing around each other, but if you don’t want this, say the word now,” He murmured, his lips brushing her ear as he leaned down to speak.

A literal shiver ran from her head to her feet at the look he was giving her and Bella had to shake her head slightly to clear enough to give him the reply he was clearly waiting for.

“What word would that be?” She breathed meeting his gaze steadily, a slightly cheeky smile lighting up her face, “I don’t want to say it by accident.”

“Fuck woman,” Clint groaned, “What you do to me.”

The sudden kiss was gentle but no less intense for it, and Bella’s eyes nearly rolled in her head at the feel and taste of him.

A small squeak escaped her as one of his hands tangled in her hair and cupped the back of her head while the other landed far less innocuously on her ass.

“Too much?” Clint murmured against her lips.

“No… definitely no,” Bella replied, a faint blush lighting her cheeks even as she fisted her small hand in the front of his shirt in an effort to prevent him from moving away.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” Clint grinned teasingly, backing away and sliding a hand down her arm to entangle his fingers with hers.

“Where we’re going, though, is away from this corridor. Unless you particularly want Tony to find us here, nosy bastard that he is.”

Bella giggled, squeezing his fingers lightly and reverting to his last name like they usually did when they were joking with each other.

“You trying to get me alone, Barton?”

“I’ve already managed to get you alone sweetheart, what I’m trying to do now is stop myself from just throwing you over my shoulder and taking you to my bed caveman style.”

Another one of those head to foot shivers. She was certain that Clint had noticed it this time too, judging by the amused glint in his eyes.

The slight strained tremor of his hand belied his teasing humour though, and Bella realised he hadn’t exactly been joking.

The small soft sound that left her throat was the last straw for Clint and the tension finally snapped when he turned and headed for the lift without another word, gently tugging Bella along with him.

Bella was quiet while he requested Jarvis to take them to his floor, his husky voice doing things to her insides.

Neither of them said anything else as the doors opened and he led her a little way down the corridor. Feeling sure her heart was pounding loudly enough for Clint to hear it, Bella watched him open his door, her heart actually stuttering then at the smile he gave her.

The room was neat unsurprisingly, with a large TV and a comfy looking couch with a thick blanket folded over the back of it. One wall held several bows, quivers full of arrows and a wide array of other weapons and just to the side of it there was a short workbench nearby, a bow and several tools resting on top of it.

On the other side of the room there was a small kitchenette area and in the wall between that and his work area them there were two doors leading to a bathroom and bedroom. The door to the latter was slightly open and a warm glow came from a lamp, illuminating the room softly.

Her gaze fell on his large neatly made bed and that light dusting of red spread across her cheeks again, prompting Clint to gently brush his knuckles down the flushed skin, enjoying the way her breathing hitched at his touch.

“Blushing again?” He grinned, “What exactly were you thinking to blush like that just from looking at my bed?”

“As if you don’t know Barton,” Bella snorted softly.

“You really need to go back to calling me Clint,” He murmured in reply, “Because it’s just gonna just sound really odd if you scream Barton once I’m between your thighs.”

“Oh,” Bella didn’t have time to gape at him for long.

It took little more than a second for him to pull her against his chest, his head ducking to kiss her thoroughly while she was dimly aware of moving backwards until her legs hit the edge of his bed.

“Don’t forget, just say the word little swan.” Clint broke the kiss and looked at her seriously.

“If you’re planning on being between my thighs shouldn’t you be calling me by my name?” She was aiming for teasing, but the words came out more breathless sounding than anything.

“Okay, Bella.”

The way he said her name should be illegal Bella thought, and she pushed up on her toes to kiss him again, moaning softly when his hand twisted in her hair, holding her against his lips.

Her last coherent thought was that she really was going to spontaneously combust.

~*~Fin~*~

Notes:

My first attempt at Marvel, so be gentle please lol

Big thanks to Harley (Harleen Frances Quinzel) this probably wouldn’t have been finished without you

I don’t have a beta so any mistakes are my own

I may add a second part to this, depending on interest and whether I can get my nerve up to actually write a lemon again lol

Have previously published this fic & others under the name Cuinawen on FFnet & AO3, as well as on Wordpress

#fanfic #marvel fanfiction #clint barton fanfiction #bella swan #clint barton/bella swan #marvel/twilight #avengers fluff #avengers fanfiction #clint barton needs love

3 notes · View notes

steppedoffaflight · 4 years

Text

Van has just come back to the land of the living, rubbing his eyes groggily as you enter the room.

“Shit,” He croaks, “I meant to get up before you. Wanted to surprise you.”

“Don’t be silly,” You brush him off, but secretly you’re pleased that he remembered. He’d been talking about it all week, sure, but you wouldn’t blame him if it slipped his mind first thing in the morning.

“Happy birthday,” He grins as you hand him his warm mug of coffee. He takes it right into his hands, unbothered by the heat, and immediately takes a sip. Three years into your relationship you no longer openly cringe at him trying to blister his tongue every morning.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” You retort with a grin, climbing back into the warmth of your bed.

based on the prompt: Hi! Can I request a fic in which readers bday is valentines day and she spends the day with Van❤️

A/N: This probably went in a different direction than you meant it, but I hope you like it! Also I’m completely in love with this universe, and if anyone would like to read more of it feel free to let me know!

Word count: ~4.5k

As soon as your alarm goes off, you dread getting out of bed.

February in New York is as cold as can be, and as usual the frigid air has seeped in through the exposed brick walls of your apartment. Your first act of the morning is barely allowing one of your arms to emerge from the warm bubble of your comforter and sheets, your hand reaching blindly to turn the bedside lamp on.

Your second order of business is forcing yourself to peel away the warm, soft layers of protection from the rest of your body, your skin breaking out in goosebumps as you slowly get your feet off of the side of the bed, your toes landing in the plush rug your bed rests on. You take another deep breath before you manage to stand yourself up, stepping off of the rug and onto the chilly hardwood floors as you start to stumble out of the bedroom.

You scowl at Van as you go. He’s nestled happily next to your empty space on the bed, deeply asleep and oblivious to the torment you were being subjected to.

Your shared apartment relies mostly on natural light, so preparing coffee on early morning workdays means you’ve learned to navigate the space in near-complete darkness. The kitchen light nearly blinds you when you flip the switch, your eyes unprepared for the burst of brightness.

Van’s put the coffee filters one shelf higher in the cabinet than you can comfortably reach, and you groan as you hoist yourself up on your very tiptoes, barely able to grasp them with the tips of your fingers. But you manage, and soon the coffee maker is starting to sputter, warming up in preparation to make a pot for the two of you.

You head across the room to the thermostat, satisfied when it reacts to you changing the settings by coming to life, the vents creaking as lukewarm air starts to blow from them.

You head into the living room, then, tugging open the curtains that are covering the big window. It reveals the same city you’ve been staring at all winter; gray skies and dirty, slushy snow.

Once you’ve used the bathroom the coffee is ready, and you pour two mugs before heading back into the bedroom.

Van has just come back to the land of the living, rubbing his eyes groggily as you enter the room.

“Shit,” He croaks, “I meant to get up before you. Wanted to surprise you.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” You retort with a grin, climbing back into the warmth of your bed.

Your text messaging threads and Facebook wall are already full of messages from friends and family wishing you a good year. The rest of your feed is dedicated to Valentine’s Day, everyone and their uncle making long, sappy posts about their significant others, complete with a spread of photos. You’ve never made one for Van before out of respect for his hatred of social media, but this year it might be fun to join in with the tradition. You’ll have to ask him about it later.

Van’s set his coffee on his nightstand, wrapping his arms around your midsection. “How do you feel?” He asks, before burying his face in your stomach.

“Older,” You laugh, setting your phone aside. You pet his hair with the hand not holding your coffee. “Like I don’t wanna go to work today.”

“Don’t go,” He pleads, his voice muffled in your shirt. “Call off.”

It’s his go-to line almost every morning. You roll your eyes.

“It’s not that simple,” You tell him, as if you haven’t a hundred times before. “Plus, you’ll be at the studio all day, so it won’t even be worth it!”

“You can come to the studio with me!” He begs, right on cue.

“Shush,” You shut him down. “I’ll have plenty of time in the summer to drop by the studio.”

It’s hard to imagine that summer will ever exist, given the ice and snow that’s covered every inch of New York for months, but the thought of it still excites you. You’ll finally be getting a much-needed break from work, the band will be done working on this album, and you and Van will have nothing but quality time to spend with each other. The thought of it brightens up your day, as if the July sunshine has somehow magically transported here today.

After coffee you’ve got to force yourself to get ready for work. A few friends from your office have already wished you happy birthday this morning on Facebook, so you’re sure you’ll have people constantly stopping by your office to give you their well-wishes. You sift through a few outfits, feeling more self conscious than you have in months.

You end up tugging on a sweater dress that clings tight to your skin. It almost feels like it’s suffocating you, but when you step out of the walk-in closet Van’s eyes almost bug out of his head.

“Do you like this?” You ask him, your voice betraying your uncertainty.

“Love it,” Van nods before taking a glug of his coffee. “Proper sexy.”

You glare at him. “It’s so tight. I feel like a fucking balloon.”

Van rolls his eyes. “You can say it, doesn’t make it true.”

You head back into the closet in a huff, but Van’s approval means you leave the dress on. You pair it with a loose cardigan so that every single contour of your body isn’t clearly visible, and after deciding you look decent you struggle to roll on a pair of thick stockings and a tall pair of boots, preparing to keep yourself warm on the walk to work.

You share the bathroom with Van as you fix your hair and makeup and he shaves in preparation for his own day, and then he’s helping you into your warm wool coat, giving you a quick goodbye kiss before you head out.

Your thick layers of clothing make your buttoned coat feel like it’s squeezing you, so before you’ve gotten very far from your building’s front door you’ve already decided to unbutton it. It’s not windy today, and during your walk to the office you work up a bit of a sweat, so overall today is going better than usual.

As predicted, people stop by all morning and into the afternoon to wish you a happy birthday and gush about their Valentine’s Day plans. When they ask you what you’re doing to celebrate in return, you try not to be bothered by the way all of their faces fall when you tell them that you and Van have nothing special going on, just a quiet night in.

You run behind schedule all day from interruptions, and by the time you’re heading out into the snow to head back home you’re frustrated, trying to mentally calculate everything you’ll have to get done when you get back to the office on Monday to make up for your lackluster performance today.

“Christ!”

You jump when Van’s voice materializes behind you, and you turn on your heels to see he was leaning on the brick near the door, rushing to catch up with you, a cigarette burning between his fingers.

“You didn’t even recognize me!” He laughs in disbelief, the steam of his breath floating into the air.

“People smoke there all the time!” You laugh, happily taking his hand when he holds it out for you. You two start the walk home. “Good day in the studio?”

“Oh, it was class. I feel like I’m writing better than I ever have.”

You beam at the profile of his face, watching the nippy evening wind carry his exhaled smoke away. “Oh really,” You tease, “Why?”

Van’s been happier ever since you two relocated from LA to New York, but with the way things have been going so well between you two he’s been even happier, an extra pep in his step everywhere he goes. Everyday he looks like he’s on the brink of proposing. You’d be lying if you hadn’t sort of had your hopes up for today being the day.

“The summer,” He grins. “Can’t fucking wait.”

He’s lazily swinging your hands between you two, and you watch your hand move back and forth in his before you sigh.

“Give me a hit of that,” You insist, reaching out for his cigarette with your free hand. Van looks appalled, plucking it from his mouth to hold it on the other side of his body.

“You quit!”

“I’m not gonna start again over one hit,” You roll your eyes. “Not with you keeping me so fucking accountable.”

Van doesn’t look convinced, and you scoff.

“It’s my birthday! And fucking Valentine’s Day! Don’t you love me, like, at all?”

At this Van narrows his eyes. “Oh, quit,” He mumbles, but then silently passes over the cigarette.

You close your eyes at the taste of your first hit in months. God, you miss smoking so much. “Happy birthday to me,” You joke when you finally let the smoke out of your lungs, stealing another quick hit before you pass it back to him. “You know, you’re gonna have to quit soon.”

Van shakes his head on his next inhale. “Don’t think I can, honest,” He tells you on his exhale. “But I’m gonna give it a hell of a try.”

You snort, and you two fall into a comfortable silence the rest of the way.

Van doesn’t let go of your hand until the elevator arrives on your floor and he has to let go to unlock the door for you, ushering you inside.

“Oh my God,” You laugh when you see the inside of the apartment, which Van’s decorated with red, white, and pink streamers. “I’m not cleaning all of this up.”

“Course not,” Van laughs, tenderly touching your lower back as he heads into the kitchen. “Come open gifts.”

“I didn’t even ask for anything!” You protest. “Besides that new pillow. If you didn’t get me that, I’m pissed.”

Van throws his head back, laughing as you two come through the doorway into the kitchen. There’s a birthday cake sitting happily on the island, which Van has poked a billion candles into.

“I feel like there’s more than 25 here,” You try to count them with your eyes.

“Nope, 25 exactly,” Van grins, presenting you with your first gift. “I can’t take credit for this one, it’s from Bob.”

As soon as you pick it up you know exactly what it is, the wrapping crinkling around the edges of a picture frame, the glass panel cool through the paper. Van leans on his elbows across the kitchen island from you, a knowing grin across his face.

“Is this what I think it is?” You’re hesitant to get excited, starting to rip the wrapping paper away from the corners. “Holy fucking shit,” You gasp as the photo is revealed.

It’s a photo of you and Van in black and white, standing in front of the living room window. The contrast of the bright white lighting of the window against your dark bodies showcases both of your silhouettes. Bob must’ve taken it when you two weren’t paying attention, because you’re both laughing about something. Van’s hand is absentmindedly resting on your baby bump, which is showing up prominently in this photo.

“This is so gorgeous,” You murmur, unable to stop the tears that spring to your eyes. Bob had just been over last week to take these; you hadn’t expected him to have them developed and ready so soon considering the boys were extremely busy right now. You’re just getting settled into your second trimester, and although it seemed a bit premature for photos Van was adamant about capturing your newly blossoming stomach.

“I didn’t realize I already have such a bump,” You sniffle, still admiring the photo. Despite the fact it’s your maternity shoot your eyes are glued to Van, looking so content and joyful.

“Me either!” Van exclaims, rounding the corner now to admire the photo with you. “It’s gotten bigger this week, too.”

“I know,” You sigh, reminded of the way your sweater dress has been squeezing you all day. “Speaking of, let me change into something comfy.” Van holds his hands out for the frame, and you pass it over to him. “Can we hang that up tonight?”

“Your wish is my command,” Van jokes as you head into the bedroom, quickly changing out of your work attire and into one of Van’s baggy t-shirts and pair of leggings. You instantly feel more like yourself now that you’re out of your stuffy office clothes that make you feel like you’re middle-aged.

You’re much happier as you bounce back into the kitchen. “What else do you have for me?”

Van carefully places the photo down on the counter, heading back to the other side of the island and leaning down. When he stands up his arms are full with the pregnancy pillow you’ve been begging for now that your stomach is starting to weigh enough to make sleeping uncomfortable.

“My pillow!” You clap your hands together in excitement, reaching over to squish it. “It’s so soft. It better be as good as the reviews say.”

“It better be,” Van laughs as you take the pillow into your arms, trying to get a feel for the shape of it. “It cost a fortune.”

“Oh, shut up,” You tease, narrowing your eyes at him. He laughs, unable to keep a straight face. Van McCann? Worrying about finances? As if.

“Is this everything?” You ask, hauling your pregnancy pillow into the bedroom before returning.

“Well, I’ve got another one for ya, but I had to run it by you first.” Van is drumming his fingers on the countertop. You grab a knife from the knife block, playfully giving his ass a squeeze as you tug your birthday cake towards you, ready to slice into it.

“You can’t eat that yet!” Van protests, momentarily distracted.

“Why not?” You ask, as you lick strawberry icing off of the finger you’d swiped over the piping on the edge. “You know I always crave Salty’s!”

Salty-n-Sweet Bakery, two blocks away and right on your route to and from work, has become your favorite place to splurge on a cupcake or a danish during your pregnancy. You know Van’s paid a premium price for this cake, and you’re eager to see if it was worth the money.

“You haven’t even blown out the candles!” He grabs your wrist as you make to dig your steak knife into the flawless icing, undeterred by his argument. “It’s bad luck!”

“I don’t think it is,” You roll your eyes but surrender, setting the knife down. “Anyway, what were you running by me again?”

“What I was saying,” He glares at you playfully as he continues, “Is that I thought we’d use your two weeks vacation time and fly south so we can visit your family for a week, and then we can fly across the pond and see mine.”

“No fucking way!” You exclaim, birthday cake forgotten. “When?”

Van shrugs. “Whenever you wanna call off! Within the next couple’a weeks, ideally.”

You’re already imagining your parent’s face when you tell them you’re coming to visit. Since you and Van have told them the big news your mom has been calling you almost everyday for updates, eager to dispense the wisdom that only other child-carrying women can provide. You know it’s hard for them, what with their only child fleeing the state, but you hadn’t planned to see them until after the baby was born, so Van’s gift is the best surprise.

You know Mary’s been worried about you too. You’ve heard Van reassuring her that everything is moving along smoothly during their late night phone calls.

“I’ll check the schedule on Monday,” You promise, wrapping your arms around Van’s neck and leaning up on your toes to give him a kiss. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“I love you,” Van replies when you stop punctuating each thank you with a kiss. “Happy Valentine’s birthday.”

You snort at that title, and Van reaches into his back pocket for his phone.

“You wanna order dinner now? I was thinking we’d do that Chinese place you love.”

Your mouth practically waters as you head to the drawer in the kitchen where you keep the menus, tugging the one for the restaurant out. “You actually love me,” You joke, already pondering what you’ll order. “I actually feel so bad I don’t have anything for you.”

That’s the agreement; You tend to go overboard for Christmas, splurging on Van with a custom-built electric guitar, too many pairs of black socks, and embroidered scarves for him and his family, and in return you are not allowed to buy him anything for Valentine’s Day, so that you are allowed to enjoy your own birthday without the stress of finding the perfect gift for him a second time per year.

“You’ve got something for me!” Van pokes at your tummy. “Best gift I could ask for.”

“Aw, quit,” You laugh, but Van’s palm flattens against your skin, warm and reassuring, and you rest your own hand on top of his.

“I still haven’t felt him kick,” Van frowns when he finally pulls his hand away, reaching for his phone to start placing your order.

“Don’t call it a him when you don’t even know!” Your hand is still resting against your bump. “And I’m still early along, it only happens sometimes.”

“You want me to DoorDash it?”

You think about it for a second. “Nah. Let’s walk.”

Once the order’s placed you two get a head start on leaving. With only Van’s thin t-shirt on your coat can actually button, and after Van pulls his long, gray coat (your favorite of his) over his own shoulders you two head out, holding hands like always.

There’s foot traffic in LA, but not like this. The businesses are more spaced out there, so you’re required to at least make a partial drive in order to get somewhere by foot. But here it’s nice to have everything so close to your apartment, and to have the opportunity to stroll around with Van. Especially in the evening, when all of the lights of the city are twinkling.

You two are quiet, simply enjoying each other’s company, when a mother pushes a baby bundled up in a stroller past you two. “I was thinking…” You start, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Do you care if I post that photo on Facebook?”

“The photo Bob took?” Van asks, and when you nod he shrugs. “You mean like, tell everybody? Sure, but wouldn’t you rather wait for him to develop the rest?”

He’s got a point. You’re sure Bob has a ton of other gorgeous photos of you two. “I dunno,” You still sigh. “I mean, I can post the rest when Bob gets around to them. But I can see people at work starting to be able to tell. And everyone was acting like it was so pitiful we weren’t doing something crazy tonight! It’d be nice if they knew why we’ve been enjoying our quiet alone time so much.”

“And we’ve already held off so long,” You point out.

For the first week after that pregnancy test, when Van came home from the studio to find you pacing around the apartment like a madwoman, it had remained a secret between the two of you. It was a tiring week filled with early work mornings and late nights, the conversations between the two of you within the darkness of your bedroom stretching on for hours. Your voices quietly pondering if you two were ready to bring a real life human into this world, if your careers would allow it, or if you were better off scheduling an appointment at the local clinic. But by the end of the week the idea of starting a family was equally as exciting as it was terrifying, and so the decision was finally made.

But first pregnancies are at such a high risk of miscarriage, and you two didn’t want to get your families worked up over nothing. Both only children, the expectation of a grandchild from both sets of parents was not something to be toyed with. You two held off for another week or so, waiting with baited breath for blood in your underwear, or for your doctor to reveal this was all smoke and mirrors. But instead your ultrasound revealed a heartbeat, steady and strong, and you two finally called your families to spill the beans.

Van told the boys when they bugged him about being glued to his phone, asking you for constant updates when they had a few performances in the UK during your first trimester. And that’s how things have remained, but now you’re ready to share the news.

“I know,” Van beams, squeezing your hand. “I didn’t know we had it in us.”

“We?” You laugh. “Which abandoned social media page were you going to post on?”

Van throws his head back laughing, the breeze ruffling his hair. “Christ. Instagram, maybe?”

You snort.

“I’m serious!” Van’s voice climbs in pitch. “If I’ve ever had a reason to log on to that godforsaken app again, this is it.”

“Shouldn’t you warn your team first? They’ll probably have a heart attack getting the notification.”

Van shrugs, looking mischievous and carefree and every other reason you fell in love with him.

The Chinese food is even better than the last two times you’ve had it, you and Van joking through the entire meal that the chef was on his A-game today. And then you blow out your candles and each help yourself to a slice of cake with buttercream that melts in your mouth before retiring to the couch, bloated and happy.

It’s not long before you’re gripping the armrest of the couch, on your hands and knees atop the cushions while Van fucks the shit out of you from behind. Pregnancy hormones have only made everything feel more intense, and the sound of Van slipping in and out of you is unbearably noisy.

“That’s too much,” You grit out when Van gets a hand between your legs, his fingers trying to circle your clit. Any other day his fingers would be necessary to come, but today you can feel your orgasm building from lower down, deeper inside of you, and you know as long as Van doesn’t stop you’ll come from that alone.

“Oh, fuck,” Van laughs in disbelief, and you hear the leather of the couch rustle as Van wipes his fingers against the back of the sofa. “You’re soaked.”

“I know,” You groan in annoyance, pushing your hips back harder so that Van’s next thrust is twice as hard. The sensation has you crying out, your fingers aching from gripping the armrest so hard. Van’s rhythm falters for a second time, and you make a displeased noise in return. “Harder, babe, c’mon.”

“Woman, I’m giving you all I’ve got.” Van’s out of breath. “I’m about to bust.”

“C’mon, baby, c’mon,” You plead with him, your eyes squeezing shut as he has another burst of energy, his hands roughly grabbing your waist so that he can control the pace better. You know that Van’s still trying to figure out what to do with this version of you in the bedroom, more demanding and particular and forced into doggy style by your round belly, and if you think about it too hard you might laugh through your bleary state. To his credit, he’s handling the nightmare you’ve become amazingly well. So well, in fact, that the pressure that’s been building between your legs finally implodes, sending you into a fit of swearing and screaming Van’s name so loud you’re positive the neighboring apartments can hear.

Van shudders into his orgasm right after yours is complete, his chest hair tickling your back as he slumps forward, letting you support his weight until he’s finished, pulling out as he still twitches with aftershocks.

“Oh my God,” You gasp as you flop into a sitting position, your thighs soaked with a mix of sweat and come. Your stomach rises and falls in jagged zig-zags while you catch your breath, and you pat it like you might pat a dog that’s sitting for a treat. You feel a bit sorry that there’s another person that’s going to be witnessing all the sex you and Van will be having for another five months, but you’re even happier that Van still treats you like normal Y/N, and not just an oven cooking up his firstborn. “That was so fucking good.”

“You’re mental,” Van grins. He sees you smiling down at your bump, and leans forward to give your stomach his own pat. “Sorry, lad.”

“You don’t know if it’s a lad!” You cry for the millionth time.

“Speaking it into existence,” Van brushes you off as he lights a cigarette for his usual post-sex smoke.

You reach out for a hit, the craving crashing into you full force. And Van shouldn’t let you, but he does, affectionately rolling his eyes as he passes his cigarette over again for the second time.

“Do I really have to quit?” You whine when you pass it back, itching for your own. “I’m sure it’s not a huge deal.”

Van shakes his head. “Benji showed me tons of studies on it.”

You slump into the couch, exhausted and sated. “I’m too tired to take a shower.”

“C’mon,” Van nudges you. “I’ll wash your hair for you.”

Clean and warm from your shower, you doze off immediately after you and Van slip into bed, preparing to watch some TV. When you wake up two episodes later, Van’s nose is buried in his phone.

“Told ya,” He smirks, shoving his screen right into your face. You have to blink the sleep out of your eyes before you understand what you’re looking at; an Instagram post with Bob’s photo of you two.

Buzzing to announce we’re expecting a little one this July, Van’s caption reads. Can’t wait xx

#van mccann #catfish and the bottlemen #van mccann fic #vanfic #van mccann fanfiction #catb #I call this universe the #new york babyverse

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