#I'm so sorry I check the inbox like once every two years

[jo-harrington]

so teeth? really?

Anon...yeah teeth? I'm weird, I'm here for the weirdos.

I've decided recently that I'm going to be a certain actor who shall only be named in the tags arch nemesis. If there's no one out there talking about his false teeth and his stained nails and his disgusting capitalist tendencies, it means I'm dead.

So in honor of a certain someone who'll only be named in the tags 30th birthday, please enjoy the sequel to this weird RPF.

Pairing: Disgusting 30-year old capitalist B-lister who's lucking out on his career x CorporateBadass!Fem!Reader

TW: RPF, Smut, jealousy, a little angst, a little degradation, and he's gross

Tagging @courtingchaos @deathbecomesthem @dr-aculaaa and @tomtomslongdong @bettyfrommars because you liked my games last time.

18+ WEIRDOS ENJOY! NORMIES STAY OUT.

It came in an email.

It always did.

Forwarded from your work email to your personal email, then forwarded onto his with several question marks. No phone numbers, no WhatsApp. An occasional GChat if you had trouble compromising over different time zones. But generally, your interactions were limited to a familiar face in an unfamiliar place; not casual conversation during normal, every day life.

You joked once, in an Uber on the way to the airport as you were fixing your disheveled clothes after a quickie before check-out, that you might as well sync your google calendars and that…seemed pretty appealing to him, if only someone else didn’t handle his calendar for him.

“Must be nice,” you joked. “Big important star with an assistant.”

“It’s one of my manager’s assistant,” he argued. “And you have an assistant too.”

“It’s an admin for the department. And they only book the travel. They don’t manage individual calendars. Sorry I’m a peasant dragging my cadaver up the corporate ladder.”

Regardless, he woke up to your email one morning—some remnant of your personality from a former life—at the top of his inbox with the word “London???” above an itinerary for two weeks of franchise meetings and property tours around the city he called home.

His city. No coincidences, no “accidental” run-ins at LAX or JFK that the two of you bent in your favor. You were coming for to him. During a week that he otherwise had no plans.

He acted on impulse. Perhaps a little desperately. Especially considering how little he knew you.

“If you want, you can just stay here. I have plenty of room. You’ll have your space. Pretend it’s a VRBO for the week.”

Realization hit him once he hit send. Dread.

Invite you to stay at his house, a house that he was just settling in to being a home. Where all of his things were, where he had pictures of family and friends.

His house.

Where he was someone and not no one.

He hoped that you would realize the impropriety—as improper as it could be after he’d stuck his cock in you more times than he could count at this point—and be the more level-headed of the two of you, as you usually were, and decline the offer.

It took 48 hours for you to respond. 

He thought that meant he was in the clear.

Until your reply blipped in his inbox between emails containing sides for self tapes and negotiations for his next potential public appearance.

“Great, thanks. I won’t take up too much space. I’ll barely be there.”

Followed by the airplane emoji and the sleep emoji.

He got irrationally angry for a moment.

How could you do this? How could you cross this boundary? Partial anonymity…that’s what you both agreed on and here you were…suddenly reneging on that agreement. 

Invading his space.

Only you weren’t invading, he invited you in.

Invited you to know Joe a little more than you knew Joseph.

And he could know you too. 

He missed getting to know people; he chose not to know people. He knew enough people.

Now he’d get the chance to get to know you.

You’d be here in a week.

And suddenly you were.

Not an email away. Just there.

You sent him a WhatsApp from the car—a necessity now that you’d be with him for a prolonged time—double checking his street. Then suddenly you were ringing the bell.

He went over the mental to-do list that he’d made ahead of your arrival—schedule planned so he’d be available if you wanted or needed him anything, the cleaning service came through, groceries were delivered, and he’d even got flowers for your room…just a nice little thing he thought of—and then he opened the door.

It had been awkward, the initial greeting.

It wasn’t like your typical hotel room rendezvous. It wasn’t straight to business. You both just stood there staring.

“Consider me a vampire,” you joked, slightly jet lagged and weary since you had gone to meetings straight away after you’d landed. “I need to be invited to come in.”

“Of course,” he stepped to the side to let you in. “Make yourself at home.”

You let him carry your suitcase and shoulder your backpack as he led you straight to the guest room. Then you touched his cheek fondly, thanked him…and promptly shut the door in his face so you could sleep.

Well…he at least thought he was going to get something more than that.

But he didn’t get much more than that. For almost an entire week.

At first it was fine. You were busy, and so was he.

He made (ordered) breakfast for the two of you for the first morning. You grabbed tea and a biscuit (“when in Rome…yes I know…but this was part of the Roman Empire so…No I thought it was funny Joseph ok see you later then”) and ordered an Uber to make it to your first walkthrough of the day. He had a copy of your schedule in his email, made sure to run his errands, make his appointments, and hang out with friends while you were busy so he could be there when it was time for you to return at the end of the day. Only to get another peck on the cheek and be thoroughly ignored as you trudged off to bed.

He felt a little bad. He knew those days where they just never seemed to end; come back to wherever he’d been put up only to check his phone and pass out. 

Then he’d hear you around midnight, waking up from a dead sleep and tapping away at your keyboard. Sending communication to your boss or your team or whoever else back home. He didn’t know if you knew he was awake, or if you would venture out of the guest room to find him or get a drink…something. But you never did. Didn’t roam around, didn’t even chat him on WhatsApp; you just clicked away until the clicking stopped and you passed out again.

That’s when he got annoyed.

Because he’d been patient enough; he waited. Waited for something for those first few days. Some kind of sign that you were here with him. He’d sit and watch the telly, pick something from netflix or YouTube, read a book waiting for you to say more than hello to him when he opened the door for you. Have a conversation with him. Something! Sure that wasn’t really how the two of you operated, but even when he still had a roommate and they lived a very separate schedule there was at least a “hey mate, how’d the day go” and it gnawed at his insides that you couldn’t even be bothered.

Who were you? Just some no one, playing at possibly having an executive position one day. 

And who was he? He was Joseph Quinn. Eddie fucking Munson, as much as he loathed it. He had people screaming for him, screaming his name. You even screamed his name from time to time. 

Just not now.

Was he even going to get to fuck you at the end of this torture? Probably not. You’d be off to Heathrow to catch your flight back home with a simple peck on the cheek and a pat on the head.

“Good boy Joseph, letting me stay in your guest room, thank you for the red carpet treatment.”

So after three days of radio silence, he stopped playing such a gracious host. You insisted that you weren’t even there? He would act like you weren’t.

He stopped living his life around your schedule, left you a spare key so he wouldn’t have to make a fool of himself and open the door for you. Got dinner with his friends, drinks with some people his manager wanted him to meet, all on his own time. 

He did exactly what did, he ignored you.

And that’s what got your attention, or so it seemed.

He saw you “in the wild” a bit more. You and your American lean against the bar at the pub he frequented, wine glass in hand as you chatted with someone in a suit; he decided he’d rather get a beer somewhere else that night. Came home late from a friend’s party on Friday to find you in the kitchen, with a sandwich, going over some contract. You waved at him, maybe a hello or to get him to join you, but he just walked away. Woke up late the next morning to find you actually sitting on his couch with coffee in one hand and phone in another. Your eyes brightened a little when you saw him.

“Morning! I have an appointment at 1, but…dinner?” You asked. “I’m getting so sick of cateri—“

“M’busy,” he cut you off. He didn’t like the way you just nodded, just pressed your lips together accepted it. The way his plans meant nothing. Still, you were out here. Instead of in your room…or just gone.

“Maybe tomorrow night?” He offered, a little more gently.

“Sounds good.” He smiled. “I’ll put it on my calendar.” And the smile went away again, and so did he.

You put him on your calendar like another business appointment; he shouldn’t have felt bad about it, it’s what you always did when you met up in one city or another…but he did. Because this wasn’t “make a run-in happen” this was a meal with the person whose house you were living in for two weeks.

He probably should have asked someone if he was overreacting—probably should have asked you to be honest—but who could he ask? His friends didn’t know about you; they gave him enough shit about his current situation as it was, let alone some American airport fling. Couldn’t exactly tell his manager, they’d have you in to sign an NDA or something; all of the times he planned his travel around “running into you,” he just said it was meeting up with a friend.

So let the feeling stew in his head all day. He came home late again Saturday night to avoid you, and stayed out the entire day Sunday, missing the time you’d made for him on your calendar. Good riddance.

Until he rolled in at 1am, well on his way back to sober after a night out, to find you sitting on his couch, some YouTube chef on the telly, Diet Coke in hand, and his takeaway box of leftovers from dinner the night before on the coffee table.

“That was mine,” he accused. No greeting, just fire as he walked over and looked at the remnants of his gnocchi carbonara.

“It was really tasty,” you nodded.

“I know, because it was mine.” He scoffed and crossed his arm over his chest. “You know if you were really hungry, there’s plenty of other food in the kitchen. Or you could’ve gotten a sausage roll or something. Ever heard of Uber Eats?”

“No I ate your pasta because you told me once that you don’t eat leftovers but you always felt bad that they’d just go in the garbage at the restaurant,” you explained calmly. A little too calmly. “Instead they’d just go in the garbage here. So I enjoyed your scraps, cold, like a peasant, oh King Joseph, most conceited and decadent of all. Because you forgot we had plans for dinner.”

“S’that what we had? Plans?”

“Yeah, I blocked off time for you and everything.”

“Talk about most conceited,” he grabbed the takeaway box and started walking towards the kitchen to dispose of it and this conversation, but you were hot on his heels.

“Excuse me what was that?”

“You heard me, conceited,” he threw the box in the bin and then turned back towards you. “Lemme pencil you in on my calendar, Joe. Dinner, Sunday, 8 o’clock does that work?” He mimed holding a notebook and jotting down the appointment. 

“Have you lost your mind? That’s what I need to do if I want ten minutes to myself, let alone a whole dinner. You know I didn’t even put sleep on my calendar for this trip?”

“Lemme not even say good morning because I have a call I need to get on Joe, thanks for the biscuits.”

“Did you miss the entire point of me being in London when I sent you my itinerary? Or did you think this was just me coming to fuck you for two weeks?”

“Maybe not the whole two weeks,” he sneered at you. “But even a how was your day would have been nicer than being treated like the hotel manager.”

“At least the hotel staff cleans shit up,” you scoffed at him. “You know I went out for drinks the other night, went to that pub you told me about, because we finally figured out a contract and I spilled wine on myself. Came back here to throw it in the wash only to find the machine full of dirty clothes. That was really fun to see your stained and faded tighty whiteys at the top of the load. Were you just waiting for the maid service to come back to start the wash for you? You’re so famous now that can’t even hit the damn button yourself?”

The next scathing remark stopped dead on his tongue at that, and then he felt the shame build up.

But only for a moment, because before he knew it, you were crossing the distance and smashing your mouth to his. It was a quick play for control as usual, neither of you caring that you’d just butt heads because the real winner would be whoever could succeed at your little game first; he was in such a mood, such a state, that he actually tried to put up a fight, wanting to get you to cry out for him like he’d been wanting all week. Wanting to be wanted, needed.

He pulled away to remove the bridge from his mouth, mindful of the complaint you’d made about kissing him last time you’d met up, and you did something unexpectedly delicious.

“You rich rat,” you growled at him as you tugged his shirt free of his waistband with one hand and started working his belt loose with the other. “You better be wearing clean underwear right now so help me god.”

And damn if he didn’t get hard just from your words alone. 

The aggressive snap of his belt hitting the tile floor also helped.

“They should be,” he grinned cheekily and pulled your sleep shirt over your head. “Agnetha did a load before you got here.”

“You’re pathetic.” You worked the buttons of his shirt as quickly as you could. “How much is this shirt? ’S it dry-clean only? Does she take your dry cleaning in too? Bring it back and make sure it’s folded nicely only for you to shove everything in the drawer anyway. Like the useless boy you are.”

Yeah that was doing it for him.

“She washes the sheets too.” He dropped to his knees before you now as you leant against the counter, fully intent on pleasing you right here in the kitchen. “Changed them right before you got here. Shouldn’t be any more questionable stains.”

“Useless,” you hissed at him but ran a hand softly through his curls as he kissed along your abdomen and peeled your leggings down your legs. “Utterly useless.”

The thing about you though was your self-restraint, your discipline. You didn’t like to lose; you’d deprive yourself of things to get some advantage over your adversaries—usually corporate adversaries—and come out on top. And you made that very well known in the bedroom too when this little game got started. You’d gotten him to cum easily the first time you slept together and then used him to chase your own pleasure, commanding his mouth and tongue here and fingers there. 

Just like you were doing now. No moans, just little hitches in your breathing as you steered his head and used the leg you’d thrown over his shoulder to bring him deeper into your center. 

When you got close to completion, you used the upper hand again to push him away and you both descended together. His trousers and pants shoved down to his knees with his shirt bunched up under his head so he wouldn’t be sore from smacking it against the tile when you sunk down onto him. And when he felt the delicious squeeze of your cunt, he couldn’t help himself from throwing his head back; good for you to have the foresight. 

He had the foresight too though. He knew your moves, they made him see the light of God, seductress that you were. You told him your secret once as you basked in the afterglow when you’d rendered him particularly speechless.

“Spell the word coconut.”

“C-o-c--“

“No, I spell the word coconut. As I’m on top. Read it in a magazine or something during my last layover.”

And he could feel it now, predict it. Feel the motion of your hips, around and around and up and down and squeeze.

He couldn’t tell just by looking at your face, he had to feel it; close his eyes and feel the tempestuous slide of you over him, bringing him higher.

Maybe he would win the game tonight?

He wasn’t one to lose either; he could be competitive just like you. In fact, he was excellent at manipulating a situation in his favor. School, money, life. And with you he’d won enough times to know it could be done. You’d made him feel so…meaningless over the past week—even if he’d misunderstood and overreacted—that a win would be even better than the pleasure itself.

You pried one of his hands off your hip where it was clinging for dear life and directed him to play with your clit so you didn’t have to. For a moment, he lifted his head and watched his own nicotine-stained nails and your prettily manicured ones mingle against the engorged and glistening junction of your sex, and where any other time it would have him groaning at the sight, he couldn’t help but notice how disgusting his hands looked in comparison to your own. For a moment the confidence faltered.

When had he last washed them? Maybe you were right, he was gross and pathetic…

But then you moaned, and from his point of view It looked like it even surprised you even. You stuttered in your pace and your eyes went a little wide. 

He felt all the doubt leave him. 

He would win tonight…

He took advantage, used his leverage, to turn the tables. To sit upright and guide you to take his spot; you couldn’t even protest before he pistoned into you, before his fingered took an unrelenting pace on your clit.

He could spell coconut too, and he did. He would tell you all about it after his victory. Boast over using your own tricks against you.

You watched him with unblinking eyes as your nails dug into his bicep and shoulder, as you bit your lip so hard he was sure you’d bite right through it, and you kept the little whine that emanated from your throat as soft as you possibly could. Still, he could hear it through the desperate, wet sounds of your fucking.

He closed his eyes and focused on the finish line, focused on keeping the tension of his mounting pleasure back as he could feel you grip tighter and begin to spasm around him. He needed to win, it would be glorious.

“Joe,” you moaned, and he thought it was over. But there, underneath the neediness, lay the condescension, the obvious upper hand. “Can you hurry up? I have a call at 7am”

He came, seconds before you did. Collapsed against you and spilled inside of you before you found your own release.

On his kitchen floor, spent, laughing together, basking in the ridiculous pleasure found in the presence of one another, another game came to an end.

And he might have lost, but in the end, did he really lose?

Happy Birthday asshole. I'm following you into 30 in 10 months with a vengeance.

No love lost, The better Jo(e) </3

[copperphysics106]

Which hunter do u think is the best choice to be the dad that stepped up for jack

Omg I'm so sorry it's been a few days I didn't check my inbox-- however I HAVE ANSWERS. So sorry, I wasn't ignoring this, just haven't had much time to respond.

I have a few selections that make sense (erm to me anyway):

Cabot: I think in a scenario where the hunters survive, or at least some do, Cabot would have taken Jack under his wing! He's already got Dad-energy, although Jack is..... very disrespectful regarding his daughter. in that one convo at least. I think that during hunts Cabot would be very hands off regarding Jack, he knows he can handle himself, BUT if things go to shit and he gets hurt he would be going Full Dad Mode. This is probably the better choices for the dad that stepped up . Plus Bucket can be an annoyed mother, serving Jack terrible food that he hates, creating a wonderful and diverse environment in which Bucket threatens to poison his food and Jack tells him he's going to, idk, do something insane, like rip out his rank rajat core and put it in an actual bucket every morning at breakfast! 😁

Slim: Dad that stepped up? MORE LIKE DADS THAT STEPPED UP! Slim and Crow taking Jack and Emet under their wing is like one of my biggest, most thought about headcanons! So Slim is a lot like a brother to Jack, BUT I feel like there's some Dad energy too? Like his dragonfly joke is great but also so dad-jokey. I actually have an AU-half canon type fic that has been sitting in my drafts for like. Two years. Never finished it but I've thought about these Four A Lot. I think Crow and Slim would only begrudgingly look after Jack at first, but once things on Shear go to shit and everyone is dying, I think they'd pull out of there and bring Jack with them, or maybe it can happen at the end if they all happen to survive, they'll live on Shear and slowly recover from the shared trauma together. Yay! I feel like Slim would've felt a lot for Jack once Ida died, like... he'd probably feel responsible too bc he wasn't on the planet while it happened and is also already kind of looking after Jack and has listened to Jack vent/joke about how absent Ida has been from his life,and when Ida dies, Jack is still devastated, I mean she is still his mother and his feelings about her are complicated*. Anyway, that's that one.

Emet: So this one is a bit more situational and AU-ey. I have a AU where, it's still set on Shear, Jack is abandoned as a baby/young kid, Emet breaks out of his programming somewhat while on a rescue mission a-la Wall-E style and stumbles across him while he is trying to escape from being shut down. He adopts Jack, raises him best he can, when Jack is old enough he starts experimenting on Emet mostly for fun, Emet doesn't mind so much. In this AU a lot of the Hunters live on Shear (though, obviously, they're not Hunters) and Emet runs into Cabot and Bucket a lot, they dislike Emet looking after a child by himself. Emet avoids them a lot. Then, when the Monsters come to Shear, Jack starts equipping Emet with the same weapons and the DC (btw, DC hates that RC is so Dadbot coded, but does actually care for Jack in his own way that is kinda weirdly sweet). Then the game happens as semi-normally as it does.

Sooo... best choice? I think the best choice is probably Cabot and Bucket, I feel like Cabot knows what he's doing x'D But my favourite is probably still Slim and Crow bc I think their brotherly dynamic with Jack and Emet is fun. One thing is for sure: Ida definitely isn't the Dad that stepped up, she isn't even the mum that stepped up. All of the choices I mentioned would do a better job than she did probably.

*Jack's feelings regarding Ida as a parent. Mathew Colville referenced this conversation from Indiana Jones concerning it:

Indiana Jones : It was just the two of us, Dad. That was a lonely way to grow up, lonely for both of us. I can remember the last time we had a drink together; I had a milkshake. But we didn't talk; we've never talked. If you'd been an average and regular father, like all of my friends' dads, you would've understood. Professor Henry Jones : I was a wonderful father. Indiana Jones : Yeah, how? Professor Henry Jones : Did I ever tell you to eat up, go to bed, wash your ears, or do your homework? No. I respected your privacy, and I taught you self-reliance. Indiana Jones : What you taught me is that I was less important to you than people who've been dead for 500 years in another country. And I learned it so well, that we've hardly spoken for 20 years. Professor Henry Jones : You left just as you were becoming interesting. [He closes his diary] Professor Henry Jones : Okay, I'm here now. So what do you want to talk about? [Indy finds himself at a loss for words] Indiana Jones : I… I can't think of… anything. [Henry looks baffled] Professor Henry Jones : Then what are you complaining about? We have work to do.

[eveenstar]

MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS SPOILERS, PROCEED WITH CAUTION!

𝔒𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝔪𝔢, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔲𝔰 || 𝔖𝔦𝔫𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔖𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢 𝔵 𝔣𝔢𝔪!𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯||

𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑃𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝑖𝑖: 𝑊𝐻𝐴𝑇 𝐼 𝑅𝐸𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: It is Stephen's turn to search the library for spells to return to their universe, leaving (Y/N) alone with the Sinister Strange. They end up having a conversation about "old times."

𝔗𝔞𝔤𝔰/𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: Cursing

𝔗𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱: (Comment/Reblog/Use my inbox if you wish to be tagged!) @jimin-sii @ghost-lantern @dopeqff @dragonqueen89 @weirdhorrorenthusiast @justsomecreaturewandering @fadedeuphoria @yuugenmomo @slut-for-matt-murdock @sonnensplitter @isasv @catherinewind05 @thewestcoasts @sanctumsanctorumshenanigans @nancy-thompsons @kuboshu1 @mylovelyreblogs @uncle-eggy @sweet0pia-uwu @severuined @dishwasher666 @andrewswifes-blog

ɑ/ɳ: I must let you all know that I have been reading every single comment and I appreciate you guys SO MUCH!!! It's a wonderful feeling waking up in the morning to read the walls of comments under the chapters ❤ A huge thank you <3 P.S: I feel like this chapter is all over the place and I'm not proud of it, I'm very sorry!

"Alright Stephen," (Y/N) cracked her fingers and neck in an attempted to release the discomfort in her muscles. "You're up."

Doctor Strange was sitting in the couch meditating while Sinister Strange was by one of the windows, gazing outside - in (Y/N)'s mind they looked like two territorial cats on the edge of attacking each other. Stephen opened his eyes, first looking at the other Strange - as if to check if he was still there - and then back to her.

He quirked his eyebrow. "Are you sure?" The sorceress nodded, "Maybe you should search harder. "

Dumbfounded, (Y/N) stared at him in silence before crossing her arms. She knew the reason for his strange - no pun intended - behaviour, Stephen had made it clear he did not want her alone with his dark counter-part. But (Y/N) was a grown woman who had spent the rest of the day studying and she had more than enough with his paranoia.

"Stephen, I spent the last 7 hours in the library. You better move your ass from that couch before I kick it." The heroic sorcerer raised his eyebrows as if challenging her. Sinister Strange's shoulders shook lightly. "The only thing close enough were some books about time manipulation and time travel."

While the two sorcerers discussed it - more like Stephen trying to convince (Y/N) to keep searching, they missed Sinister Strange's slight head turn after the young sorcereress mentioned the books she found.

"Be careful, please." Their eyes met. It had been so long since Stephen's eyes carried vulnerable emotions in their reflection - once, (Y/N) used to drown herself in the warm waters of his gaze -, emotions that he had swore to hide away from the universe.

(Y/N) winked, a comforting smile spreading on her features. "You know me."

Stephen sighed and made his way to the library with great hesitance, "That's why I'm worried."

The atmosphere was lifted once the two sorcerers weren't in each other's presence. (Y/N) aspired loudly and dramatically fell onto the couch - the dust hovered in the air but that didn't matter, she was thankful she finally had a place to rest.

Once settled, (Y/N) let her mind wander. So much had changed in the last six years, ever since The Blip, and ever since she...was gone for five years. Still, of course, it felt like it happened yesterday - she remembered her disappointment in Stephen after he gave the stone to Thanos, and the disturbing peace she felt when she was 'dying' - at least she wouldn't be here to see the aftermath.

"Stephen?" The sorcerer turned around to look at (Y/N). In this reality, it was not him who was snapped, it was his companion-in-magic. "What did you do?"

"I'm sorry." He wished he could disappear as well, the haunted yet grave look on her face was enough to make his stomach twirl in regret. "There was no other way."

The sorceress hissed at the memory - She believed in putting the greater good above others lives, but in her mind, there was a limit not to crossed. Even if they got everyone back, tried to bring normality to the world, it had a cost. Of course, everything had a cost.

And that cost was heavy on her shoulders.

"Those books I found," Strange remained stoic by the window, "We don't have them back in our universe. Where did you get them?"

"In a library." Now, the sorcerer turned to her with a cryptic smirk playing on his lips. (Y/N) quirked her eyebrow and crossed her arms.

"Why are you studying about time manipulation and time travel...Strange?" A sting of fear made her second-guess her choice of conversation when the sinister sorcerer stood tall in front of her - she didn't even see him coming!

Sinister Strange slowly lifted her chin up to look at him - he had been so eager to feel her, to know that this wasn't another hallucination of his fractured mind. The sorcerer bored his gaze on hers, that trademark look that he has with his piercing blue eyes, and immediately followed by a crooked smile.

"It is not polite to interrogate the host, now is it?" (Y/N) could almost see the amusement behind his eyes, and his actions made her heart beat faster that she could feel it on her head - but defiant, she got up to level up with him as best as she could. This was not the time to let her feelings get in the way, he was still Stephen Strange after all.

"We're not your enemies."

Strange hummed and shook his head, "No, you are not." He cut her short before (Y/N) could reply, "My apologies." Strange took a step back, allowing her some space, "It has been a long time since I had...proper interactions with someone."

The sorceress could understand the feeling, somewhat, or at least she tried to. It had not been easy adjusting to normal life after being gone for five years. "I get it, I really do." She laughed to ease off the tension, "You try being gone for five years and adapt to life afterwards."

Now it was Sinister Strange's turn to feel confused - and of course, (Y/N) could tell by the curious yet surprised look on his (often emotionless) face that the Blip had not occurred here.

"What...What happened?" His voice, too, sounded softener. "Did you..." Strange couldn't even bring himself to finish the sentence. Did she die and her Stephen brought her back? Without any consequences? How?!

"Well, technically, yes, but then Bruce brought everyone back." A saddened look befell on her eyes, "But sadly that did not affect those who died during those five years."

There was silence, but a comforting one. It was like he was giving her time, and space, to feel her emotions and let them all out for him to see.

"Thanos used the Infinity Stones to kill half of the universe, all thanks to Stephen who gave him the last stone." (Y/N) sighed. "I'm sorry, you would've probably done the same thing."

"I would not." Strange narrowed his eyes as if he took offense to that.

Despite being the same person, having the same genes, Strange was proving himself to be...a different man than her Stephen was. (Y/N) did not know if she should be frightened or not.

She couldn't help but look outside.

"So is this what happened...?" It was more of a loud thought than a question, "You didn't give Thanos the time stone and...this was the result."

The sorceress did not expect an answer this time - Her theory was making perfect sense in her mind. The fog surrounding the distorted buildings in the distance gave her a sensation of deja vu, or maybe an impeding doom? She could no longer tell the difference.

Strange remained silent as he watched her.

"There is a..." Stumbling on his words, the sorcerer cleared his throat. "You can use your bedroom upstairs. You clearly need a shower and a change of clothes." (Y/N) stared back at him with widen eyes, "And try to get some sleep."

"Thank you," Gods, she could hug him right then if she didn't feel like it'd be evading his bubble, "Thank you so much!" Even if she couldn't hug him, she sure as hell could run upstairs like there was no tomorrow.

With her scene done, there came another character to the stage that was the Sanctum.

Hidden in the shadows, the heroic Doctor Strange was witness to his sinister counter-part interaction with his protégé - He was ready to defend them both if Sinister Strange attacked, but that was not the case, just yet - and once the protagonist was no longer in sight, all facade was put aside. The sinister doctor locked eyes with Stephen and unlike (Y/N), he saw a reflection of death and destruction behind his mirror.

[godlesssuggestions]

i stopped considering myself a christian coming up on a decade ago, but when i think about religion i still can't shake the idea that xtianity is correct and that my disbelief can't prevent it from being real even if i can see all the logical contradictions and bullshit. this is frankly terrifying to me because the xtian god is morally repugnant. do you/your followers have any thoughts or advice on getting out of this trench of unwanted belief?

i just love when tumblr doesn't notify me to asks and i'm just supposed to stumble on them when i remember to check my inbox. so sorry for the 2 months wait on this answer.

this is just my own experience and i'd love to hear followers' experiences as well.

anyway, something that has helped me, especially in the past few years, is searching for my own truth. i believe there is no absolute truth because each person in existence has experienced events in their lives in different ways, and no two people have identical experiences. this goes against the christian belief that anyone can be "saved." our life and events that make it up are shaped by our genetic make-up, upbringing, and often subconscious biases that have developed over time due to the people who we surround ourselves with, the media, propaganda, societal values, etc. this is a very long-winded way to begin to explain: i have tried my very hardest to see things from more than one or two different perspectives, because no two people believe exactly the same thing.

there are some things i believe to be true that others' don't, and really in the long run, that's okay. you are accomplishing so much in both searching for your truth and sending this very ask because you are acknowledging that you are aware that your thoughts on your old god and biases exist, and these thoughts are not necessarily what you truly believe. i would be so much more concerned about someone who actually believed what you said is a correct mindset to live in without knowing it is, using your phrase here, morally repugnant. your choice to reach out about this conflict within yourself means that you are not like the followers of the xtian god. you acknowledge that your subconscious is not what you believe.

your beliefs were and are already changing as soon as you sent this. by reaching out to someone to see if anyone also experienced this, you are beginning to let go of your mindset you once believed to be true.

going back to searching for my personal truth: i use the term "truth" even though i don't believe there is one right answer that everyone should know (because no one in all of existence knows what everyone else knows, which ultimately shape our own truths). to get rid of biases directly, you would have to try and understand everyone's personal truth, and you would get nowhere because knowing every detail about everyones life, upbringing, beliefs and where they began, etc., is impossible.

all to say, this is just what i believe to be true in my own experience.

what you can begin to do is focus on your own beliefs, one of the only things you can change directly. you cannot change what others believe, but you can change what they experience to shape those beliefs. in that same vein, you cannot know everything that has shaped your beliefs and why, but you can work to change what, deep down, you know is untrue.

i encourage you to expand your horizons. get to know all different kinds of people. research and learn. listen to people talk about what they believe to be true, take all this information (which in itself can be a subconscious task), and form your own truth. soon, your beliefs and experiences will form new ones that may not feel like they fit, but they make up who you are. who you are is not stagnant and never was. you are able to change your beliefs, and by acknowledging that, you are already changing these beliefs.

i hope this makes sense and that sharing my own thoughts and experience provide at least a little bit of comfort and validation to you. i again apologize for not seeing or responding to this message until now. i wish you and everyone struggling with this all the best on your search for the truth.

[batarangsoundsdumb]

guess fucking what? my inbox is so fucking full right now i'm unloading all of this shit in one post.

For the 11th gotham memes: gothamites react to bruce being jacked in a tiktok he made with kids, like super yoked, ripped as hell

fucking hilarious thanks. i think i did it in one meme post, but i genuinely don't remember which one

i dunno which of the batfam would do this but one time i was sleeping over at a friends house and ended up on the floor bc the bed was so very small and i just stayed there because the rug was soft

that's a drunk jason move i don't know what to tell you

tim and jason are "i listen to pop punk" solidarity. whenever jason highjacks the batmobile theyll go on long ass car rides blaring mcr and paramore and then never talk about it again

as they should!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! tim: no jason it's my turn using the aux cord i gotta put on my jams jason: don't you dare put on weird shit tim: don't worry, you're gonna love this *plays fearless (taylor's version)

hear me out hear me out, red hood stans 🤝 nightwing stans t h i g h s

holy shit yes.

SNL au: Bruce breaks character when pretending to superman and says something like "I'm not superman! You've seen his gps!! It's from 2001!!!" @sabeanybabe

superman flies past the snl building the next day just to say 'actually it's from 2005, i'm not a heathen'

does your back hurt from carrying the batfam fandom

it hurts more from the exotic rock collection i keep in my backpack, but thanks for the concern.

I love your posts by why would you always leave the best parts in the tags?

as a treat for the people that check the tags ;) (and also because i'm committed to the short post aesthetic)

somehow your playlist was everything i never knew i needed. i mean it. this is my new favorite playlist.

and don't you dare get a new favourite playlist!

babe ur stoner tim playlist is exactly too perfect, earth is literally blessed by ur existence

babe thanks so much! i love my stoner tim playlist because it's just my usual playlist but people think it's an artistic choice that i put taylor swift and britney spears in there, when it's just what i unironically like listening to

JANDKSKDK BILLY RAY CYRUS ON THE STONER TIM PLAYLIST I LOVE IT IT

again it's not even an ironic choice, i know every single word and i genuinely like the song

The last chapter of Fundamentals of Casework has me crying at work. Thanks I love it @dudelookitsalesbian

oh babe, i'm sorry, but also, not sorry i love chapter 4 so much it's my lovechild with the 'mental illness' tag

soooo....stumbled on your tumblr by some stroke of fate??? read your DC fanfic first. which is PHENOMENAL btw. then found all the batmemes; the funniest thing EVER bc everyone forgets about regular old gothamites. kept scrolling and your blog pops up as recommended. clicked on the ao3 for shits and giggles and waddaya know?!?!? it's YOU!!! you're LEGEND!!!! ever seen that meme? it's a video of a cat that got into a baseball field and the two announcers get really invested in his escape attempt and start giving a play by play of the cat instead of the game. memeable moment: "GREAT stuff from the Cat!!!"

i seriously think about this ask every single day and it's so fucking funny to me that i've never seen the meme you're referencing, but i still find myself going 'GREAT stuff from the Cat!!!' whenever i see something funny. but wow i'm glad you liked this steaming pile of garbage

Fav dc character overall? And fav batfamily character?

don't ask me to pick between the loves of my life, but i can tell you i've cried about every single batfamily member and also wally west (my beloved)

What's your opinion on fans having a problem with batfam being "too big"? And some even claim that batfam is just "Bruce Alfred Dick Damian" and the rest of them are just "friends and allies" (source: reddit) Personally, I like batfam because of this reason but idk

stupid. a family can never be too big. i'm not that big a fan of like huge batfam stuff with everybody from every single universe, because as much as it's funny for bruce to have like 30 kids, it just feels a little too OOC for me.

This is the best tag I've seen involving the batfam, thanks for thinking of it

This is canon now @nctxrejects

lmao yeah i think at that point alfred has had to sit through like at least a dozen coming out talks and just has a pride flag collection in the attic that he pulls out whenever a kid comes out

idk why batfam hits different as compared to any other superhero family

bc it's found family and usually the other superhero families are almost all genetically related in one way or another

I don't know if you watch the umbrella academy but I saw your last post about batcest and saw the similarities. But the thing is (although I think it's weird) in TUA, they addressed it by saying "they were raised as weapons, not siblings" or something along those lines, which is simply not the case with batfam.

yeah i watched tua but i also thought it was ridiculous and they still treated each other as siblings so i didn't like the luthor/allison thing, and am glad they stopped doing that shit bc it fucking sucked.

Hot take: Batcest shippers are the same people who believe adopted siblings are not actual siblings

smoking hot take: batcest shippers are the people who watch 'my sister got stuck in the washing machine' porn

Duke was adopted by Bruce?

not technically no, but do i, tumblr user batarangsoundsdumb, look like i care?

True story but I had to change my freaking name because it used to be "Damien" and most people would go "OH LIKE DAMIAN WAYNE" like please I'm just tryna live

true story, but i don't actually think of damian when i hear the name damian, literally the first thing that pops up is damian darkh like bruh what?

apparently dc comics company supported comic stores by giving out new titles and stuff during the beginning of the pandemic to help them run and I just think that's wholesome

ah yeah that's so fucking cool, still don't like dc, the company, because this world is a capitalist hellhole and we're all owned by warner brothers or disney with no in between.

ayo looking at tumblr head canons and finding out bruce is actually a terrible father is a punch in the gut

lmao yes, in like 50% of comics bruce is a terrible father and it gives me whiplash

oooh I just saw the jason todd vs winter soldier post and the real question is: batman vs iron man

while iron man has like hundreds of cases of armor, batman could throw out an emp and have the guy dropping out of the sky in 2 seconds.

dickfast = fastdick = quickdick = quickie

magnum hot take

hey bata(?) just thought I'd let you know I have copied the obnoxious emoji and Billy Ray post for use on simping men going forth

thank you 😘🌷 (@spacebarsidecar)

why would you do that to your followers???? i get why i did it, but why would you???

what is scarecrow made the nightwing funko pop himself, like those diy-ers that paint over other ones

oh god no, horrible take, horrible take, that's a disgusting thought oh no

I see your HC that Bruce and Oliver fucked and raise you this: Dick and Roy ALSO fucked

yes they did and it was a horrible moment for jason to find out dick has fucked both of his best friends

"at this rate bruce adds like 1 child to his family every decade or so" Duke is introduced in 2013, Damian as Damian, not as an unnamed child, in 2006. And he is already 14 years old, Robins rarely remain Robins after 16 😬 It looks like a new Robin and Batkid will appear in a couple of years

i mean i can't wait? but somebody will probably die first tho, we're due for another major character death. my money's on either cass or duke this time.

BRO you're so right all of your Bruce's ex headcanons are amazing but they aren't ships, that's kinda wild. Like I don't want any peeks into how their relationship was I just want to see everyone make fun of them

lmao YES it's just i love bruce being a slut, like good for him.

I am in love with your posts your honour thank you

omg thanks are we like,, gonna kiss now?

The justice league needs to have a meeting to discuss how many of their members/partners have slept with bruce. Because through a combination of cannon & fannon (if DC wasn’t homophobic) we have AT LEAST: 1) clark 2) lois 3) oliver 4) dinah 5) john

Thats not counting villains or random civilians @dudelookitsalesbian

yes yes yes, they'll have a yearly meeting about how many of their collective exes could be out for revenge and batman's list just keeps getting longer.

tim was like "i'm drake now" and everyone was like ahh so your fursona is a dragon and tim was like pffffft no. ducks.

and what about it?

when steph's fighting livewire and she zaps her with lighting and nothing happens and then they both just. stand there awkwardly for a second and talk. yeah i couldn't stop laughing at that batgirl steph is the BEST

oh yeah that was fucking hilarious and i think it would be so cool and sexy of dc to give steph a little comic series,,, as a treat

Hi I absolutely adore all of yours "Bruce and Oliver very badly pretending they didn't fuck each other" memes

lmao i do too

I need you to know that “Bruce Wayne had frosted tips” is one of my favorite Bruce takes of all time it’s so galaxy brained. you’re right and you should say it

he also painted his hair blonde once when he was travelling and in conclusion, this is why he's being blackmailed by the gotham gazette.

you know my thing about gordon being branded as the only good cop in gotham is its a load of shit like arguably he's a good person and not working to screw people over or anything but the fact that he also works w. batman makes him a shit cop. like yea batman is better than the mob but its still illegal its still an abuse of power he just not making bank

babe, all cops are bad cops. (but yeah youre absolutely right, working with vigilantes makes you a shit cop, but also working against vigilantes just makes you an asshole cop yanno?)

ruh roh i think i’m about to add “so not yeehaw” every time i don’t like something

that's a very good vocabulary upgrade

somehow i feel like steph already knew. like babs obviously knew but i feel like bruce got high/drunk in front of steph and started telling his boarding school stories and steph was just like “oh you fucked up i’m never gonna forget this”

steph and bruce have weird uncle/rebellious niece dynamic and they just hang out sometimes and bruce will be like 'i once broke my arm when i tripped over a hedge when i was drunk so oliver drove me to the hospital on an electric scooter' and steph will just have to sit there with that knowledge in her head.

Hello I just wanted to tell you you are So right in all your steph opinions bc she is, in fact amazing and I think that's very sexy of you. Ps. Your Bruce/Oliver fic is hilarious

babe, thank you so much and yes steph is amazing and i love her and she deserves the world and she's the best member of the batfam hands down. also thanks

In Supersons we see a couple of kids that are implied to be Damian and Jon's children and the boy has laser eyes and can fly, so I asume he's not adopted. The girl, who calls Bruce grandpa, can also fly, btw. So it's canon (probably by accident) that Jon can have kids and he must have married one of Bruce's kids. (I'm hoping for Damian, mostly because any other of his children would be waaaaaaaaaaaaay too old.) @artemisa97

lmao that was probably an accident seeing as jon is a 17 year old superhero in the year 3000 (by the jonas brothers)

You know, I'm a die hard fan of your memes, but I gotta say one thing: if Gothamites actually took gas mask everywhere with them, then the Scarecrow would just be a weird dude in a weird costume, and not a villain oh so scary. DC really should just takes notes from you.

bold of you to assume there's no gothamite anti-maskers

How does it feel being the funniest person on this app?

horrible, next question.

I can't listen to Green Day or Billy Joel without thinking of your post about how Bruce got arrested at a Billy Joel concert @nightwings-kid

yeah that's your mistake, i on the other hand can't enjoy billy joel without thinking about the glee rendition of 'uptown girl'

I've FINALLY been watching the Batman animated series and I gotta say, after watching "the gray ghost" I am CONVINCED that Batman is a closeted super hero geek who was 100% freaking out the first time he met Superman and is just REALLY good at hiding it.

superman: so what do you do in your free time? batman, thinking about the superman fanfiction he's writing on the batcomputer: i have no free time

bruce and oliver be like boyfriends to co-workers 401k (do the justice leagues get 401ks??? not that bruce and ollie would need them, but-)

lmao yes just 400 thousand words of bruce realising 'oh dip oliver is such a fucking dumbass' (also i don't know what a 401 k is but i assume they don't?)

Gothamites would totally boo superman as he saves Gotham while batman is out. @meenje

he's like 'okay think about that next time you want to be saved from an alien octopus'

I just took long break from dc comics and I come back to see ric grayson ??

i think it's very cool and sexy of dc to see dick and just think 'you know what? let's just give him a traumatic brain injury' and then didn't develop his character in any real way

SPEAKING OF RIC GRAYSON, gothamites making confused memes out of ric grayson is much needed

'dick grayson is my taxi driver? can anyone explain what the fuck happened he looks like an italian plumber?'

i hate to say it but batfam are def "marvel characters" in that sense they are characters who are human but become superheroes unlike most dc characters who are gods trying to be human maybe this is why I like batfam

fair enough

[thiserichann]

cookies and cream - lee jeno

reader x jeno

genre: smut, strangers to fuck buddies, humor if you squint hard enough

word count: 4k-ish

warnings: recklessness (she met with a stranger online, don’t do it kids) excessive lying, 18+ scenes that includes: oral (f receiving) face riding, soft dom!jeno?

This is merely a work of fiction and is not meant to hurt the image of Jeno and NCT. Again, don’t be as reckless as OP. This was just a fantasy of mine that I’ve been dying to get out of my system.

Holy fuck.

That's the only word that you've managed to utter when you decided to check your messages that morning.

You got bored in the middle of the class and decided to sneak a peek on your phone to pass the time. The class is recorded anyways so you can always just go back to the parts of the lessons that you've missed.

But holy fuck.

You never expected to see THAT so early in the morning.

"Miss Y/N?"

You snapped back to reality and stopped malfunctioning for a second when somebody called your name. Everyone including your professor remained quiet and all eyes are on you.

"Oh. Sir what’s the question again?"

You answered nervously as you tried to review your notes and backtrack on what he is discussing a few moments ago.

"I see that you're distracted in the middle of my class again. Mind sharing what you're occupied with?"

"Uhm. I was watching KPOP fancams, sir."

"Fancams won't get you into law school, Miss Y/N. Phones off please."

You tucked your phone back to your pocket and never picked it up again since. The professor started blabbering again but no information is being retained on your head. It stayed that way at your other classes.

You wished you were looking at some KPOP fancams earlier. You’ve watched fancams at class before and got away with it unscathed.

Oh no. It was a goddamn dick pic.

A good one, too.

It was from a guy that you met in a kink site a few days ago. You created the account out of boredom and expected nothing to come out from it. It’s all the flirting and sexting without all the unnecessary commitment

It only took you a few minutes to set up an account. For some privacy, you made a random birthdate and a random nickname, because like hell would you share your real information to these people. You also picked a racy picture of a lady that looked a bit like you and passed it off as your own.

Within minutes, your inbox is flooded with messages. Most of them, however, are from men who are old enough to be your father.

Well, you were bored, so you entertained everyone and then went on back to your boring, vanilla life. A few political history and theory books later, you went back to see which ones messaged you on the site.

And that's where you've met him.

The most gorgeous piece of meat alive.

He seems like a nice guy. He introduced himself as LJ and your age aren’t that far off from each other. LJ is the only one who actually engaged in conversation besides "want to fuck?" or "are you horny?"

As soon as you started messaging back and forth, you scrolled on his profile to see what he looks like. The only thing is, his profile looked a whole lot like those high fashion male underwear photoshoots.

It was an array topless pictures (presumably his, you just can’t be bothered to check if it is actually his). It featured his sculpted abs and biceps, cropped up all the way to his full lips. Despite not seeing his whole face, you knew very well that he’s a hunk. To say you were intrigued is an understatement.

Since then, you've been talking back and forth through Snapchat (your secret one because you're not stupid) and sent him actual pictures of yourself, completely omitting the face. You took one from your bed, your bathtub, and probably every part of your house that you felt is sexy enough to be included on the pics.

You can't tell him if it's him or the repressed sexual urges finally manifesting itself after more than a year of not getting laid, but every text to and from him made your heart race. It was something that you looked forward to every hour everyday.

Hours went by that you totally forgot leaving him on read. You climbed up to your bed to rest your back to the headboard and opened your unread messages.

You: Hey svlr. School stuff.

  He opened the chat and started typing right away.

  LJ: Oh good. I thought I did something wrong to upset you.

You: Not at all. I loved the pic by the way. It literally knocked my socks off.

LJ: Just the socks?

You: You can take the rest of it off yourself ;)

You scoffed. The flirty banter has always been there ever since you started talking but nothing really came out of it.

LJ: If only I could :(

You: I know. Covid’s a bitch.

You set your phone aside for a second to go to the bathroom. On your way, you picked up some snacks at the fridge and sat back down to your bed, only to find your phone blowing up.

LJ: If you're down maybe we could meet

LJ: It's totally fine if you don't want to

LJ: I just made it weird, didn't I?

LJ: I'm so sorry I brought it up in the first place

LJ: I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable

LJ: Hello?

LJ: I'm really sorry

You: Chill. I'm right here

You: I just went to the bathroom

LJ: Oh

You: I'd be lying if I said I don't want to meet you as well

You: Well... I wouldn't write off the idea

You: But with the Covid

LJ: Thoughts?

You: I don't think it's a great idea

The screen says Seen right at the bottom but it took him a couple more minutes before finally replying.

LJ: I understand

LJ: But in case you change your mind, I'll leave the time and place up to you

LJ: I’ll take care of the rest

LJ: Deal?

You: I'll sleep on it.

You: Speaking of sleep, I gotta go. Morning class.

LJ: Okay. I guess this is good night then

You didn't, in fact, talk to him the day after.

You'd be lying if you said that you didn't want to see him and his abs in real life. But as someone who overthinks a lot, you just can't shake off the risk.

You: Good night. Talk to you tomorrow.

What if he's not really the guy in the pics? Or he’s psycho in real life? What if he's infected the virus?

You sighed.

Why must some global pandemic ruin your sex life?

You waited until the end of the day before you finally replied to LJ. The last thing that he texted was a brief good morning from earlier in the day and nothing else. He’s actually a pretty sweet guy, totally not worth ghosting, and you actually liked talking to him as a friend that you can share your sentiments with.

With your guilt finally eating you up, you took a break from your assigned readings and sat back at your bed to rest for the day. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a minute, thinking of something to say to him. It took you a few tries before finally hitting the send button.

You: So, I thought about it

LJ: And?

You: I need to know I can trust you

LJ: Okay. How?

You: I don’t know. Send me a proof that you’re real. Get tested?

You: Is that fine with you?

Within a split second, he sent his reply.

He actually did it.

You couldn’t believe it but he actually did it.

LJ: Consider it done.

He got tested for physical, including the virus test, and passed with flying colors. He even sent you a vid of him inside a medical clinic.

He just sent the uncensored results this morning where you can clearly see his real name.

Lee Jeno.

LJ.

Seems legit.

Well, the uncreative nickname shouldn’t matter now because the results meant only one thing.

You’re gonna have to push through with your promise.

You got ready around noon that day. You can’t remember the last time that you actually got ready to meet someone that’s not a delivery guy or a relative passing on something to your family.

As someone who overthinks a lot, you actually got everything covered. You picked a place near a restaurant to eat. The police station is just a few blocks away just in case something happens, and right in front of a library…

“Where’re are you off to?”

You raised your backpack to show to your mother.

“I’m off to the library. I needed to get these renewed. Maybe pick up a novel or two.”

She looks at you from head to toe, eyeing that incredibly loose hoodie, faded denim jeans, some worn out sneakers that looked like it’s supposed to be thrown away years ago and a medical mask that covers about ¾ of your bare face. It’s just your usual attire whenever you go out for errands.

She just nodded and went back to watching her favorite soap opera.

“It’s nice that you’re out of your room for once. Take some cookies from the kitchen so you’ll have something to eat in case you get hungry.”

… as an alibi to get away from your strict parents.

As soon as you left the door and made sure that you’re out of sight, you found the nearest public toilet and grabbed a whole other outfit from your backpack. The hoodie is replaced by a white, ruffled see-through blouse and you ditched the jeans for a tight skirt that’s at least four inches above your knees. You tousled your hair a little bit and put on some powder and tiny hint of lipstick before putting your facemask back on again.

It’s been a while since you’ve done an elaborate scheme like this. Your skills got a little bit rusty, but they always work.

Sometimes you wonder if you’re really meant to be lawyer or a criminal instead.

You stepped out of the toilet and blended right back into society.

Now all you have to do is find wherever the hell LJ is.

Jeno sat anxiously as he waited for you right inside the café. He’s on his fourth cup of coffee but it didn’t do anything to calm his nerves down (geez I wonder why).

You: I’m almost at the café.

He’s been staring at his phone the whole time. Once he received your message, which is a pic of you in the bathroom after the outfit change, he almost choked on his drink.

This message sent him on a panic as he turned his camera on to see how he looked. He did some minor adjustments to his hair and he wiped off his eyeglasses clean with the sleeves of his hoodie (which did nothing for him by the way) and then casually sat down and played it off cool like he hasn’t been waiting for you for over an hour.

On your perspective, you walked inside the café and looked around for LJ. Fortunately, there was only guy inside the café, twiddling with his phone on his hands and as he kept on peeking through the glass windows as if he’s looking for someone.

From afar, he actually looked really cute. His appearance, a shy, nerdy dude with glasses, looked way off from the fuckboy image that you expected him to have in reference to the messages that you’ve been getting from him.

It’s always the quiet ones that are kinky. You should know, you are one.

You walked over to his table and tapped his shoulders to get his attention.

He froze for a moment before he finally managed to turn around and face you.

“You’re actually here.”

“I know. I’m just as surprised as you are.”

tap tap tap tap

The room is so quiet that the only thing you can hear is the sound of your heels tapping against the tiled floor. You can say that that is one of your observable annoying habits tapping your foot on the floor when you're a nervous wreck.

Sighing in retaliation, you removed your hoodie, fanning yourself as you tried to relax and get comfy on the hotel couch (which should be comfortable enough since you paid a shit ton of money on that room), switching the TV on to get your mind off of things. The lackluster array of shitty sitcoms didn’t distract you at all, but it instead reminded you of the reasons why you’re in that room in the first place.

Having nothing to do to pass the time, you paced back and forth in the room, finally sitting down once you realized that it looks way worse than you just tapping your foot. You folded your arms right across your chest, looking at the watch from time to time but the hands of the clock seem to be moving slower the more you stare at it.

Quarantine started almost a year ago and it's been very hard for you. Sexually. It's been almost a year since you've been touched by a man and you’re more than ready to jump on anyone’s dick at any this point,

Too bad that that dick is taking his sweet time in the bathroom.

tap tap tap tap

Your foot found its rhythm once again, only this time, you’re not nervous anymore. Your patience is wearing thin.

As if summoned by the constant tapping, the guy comes out of the bathroom, just casually drying himself while wearing nothing but the towel dangerously hanging on his waist and a boyish smile on his lips.

No biggie.

"Hey."

Suddenly, you’re not tapping anymore.

Head empty, just thoughts of a hot guy patting down a towel all over his toned body.

“I hope I didn’t make you wait for too long.”

He spoke, tossing aside the towel on his hands on the sofa, finally giving you a full view of him and all his glory.

You must admit, you’re skeptical at first. The guy that’s been sending you faceless thirst traps just days ago, telling you how he’d fuck you senseless looked a lot different from the guy who entered the hotel room just a moment ago.

He came in wearing those black oversized hoodies that did a great job in hiding his best features. His hair was a bit long for your taste, covering half of his face while the face mask hid the other.

But this man right here in front you, he’s Adonis.

You unconsciously bit your lower lip, earning a chuckle from the guy.

“I’m guessing that you’d like to start now?”

You nodded, the tension and awkwardness rendering you unable to speak.

He smiles as he takes the remote from you, turning off the television because the main show is about to start.

You started to tense up again, eyes wide as you realized that he’s now right beside you, wrapping his arms around you as soon as he sat down. He leans over, soft lips coming into contact with your exposed neck and shoulders, landing small pecks all over.

You sat there breathless as he slowly ran his fingers to the side of your thighs, tracing circles at it while giving small, reassuring kisses on your neck and shoulders. It’s as if he’s asking you for your consent, waiting for you to open up to him before he makes a move.

He got his answer when you turned around to face him, running your fingers into his cheeks before cupping his face, your lips finally touching his. He moved in the same pace as earlier, slow and calculating. You got a bit impatient once again, biting his lower lips gently to let him know that he can do more.

He grabbed you by the waist and successfully placed you on top of him. The kiss got even more sloppy as you ran your hands through nape, then into his soft locks. His hands travelled once again, finger running through legs again, stopping as soon as he reached the hem of your skirt, flipping it up to reveal the thin lace material that barely covered your core. You took that as initiative to remove the towel on his waist and grinded against his growing member, the friction and heat enough to earn a groan out of him.

He held your waist once again, firmly this time, halting your movement completely.

You broke away from the kiss, staring him in the eyes to read his face.

“Something wrong?”

“Hold tight.”

You were about to ask about what hold tight mean, but your arms cling unto him involuntarily as he lifts the both of you out of the sofa.

Jeno laid you gently in the bed, making sure not to break eye contact as he does so. He looked like he's about to eat you alive, which is enough to send flush to your cheeks.

“I would’ve loved to bend you over that sofa, but I think it’s just proper that our first time will be on the bed.”

"God. You're beautiful."

He then ran his fingers towards the thin fabric of your blouse, feeling every part of your torso like he's memorizing every detail of it. His hands then travelled in your chest, squeezing the swell of your breasts on each hand, fingers shaking as he does so. It felt like an artist admiring his delicate work of art.

He situated himself between your legs, taking a moment to admire you first before doing anything else.

He started to run his hand on your cleavage and stopped on the uppermost button of your blouse, taking his time to remove all of them and placing a kisses at the exposed skin. After all of the buttons are taken care of, you lifted your body up and slid off the fabric. Your black lacy bra finally made its appearance. You took the liberty of taking that off too, as slow and as you possibly can.

 Jeno just stared at your body in awe, breathing heavily as his eyes scanned your naked glory.

 "Gorgeous."

He said under this breath before leaning down to claim your lips once again. You're turned on by how much attention he's giving your body now. You're usually loud in bed but his gestures are making you bashful. You've never felt this beautiful before.

You can feel his hands trembling as it travels all over your body, his kisses getting even more needy. There was moans of satisfaction every time he would lick your lips. Jeno was kissing you like you were oxygen and he needed to breath.

His hands travelled south, running across your thigh and your now aching core. You're about to remove your skirt and underwear but he stopped your hands midway.

"Keep it."

He took your hands away from your skirt and placed them just above your head.

"Just sit there and relax baby. Let me treat you."

You did just like he told you and gave him full control of your body.

"Good girl."

His lips brushed your ears, whispering sweet nothings about how beautiful you are under him. His kisses then went down to your neck, using his tongue and teeth, marking everything he can get his mouth on with his saliva. Meanwhile, his hands finally touched you down there, massaging your still clothed wetness.

His middle and index finger felt your slit, moving it in swift motion in search for your clit.

"Oh my god. That's it."

You gasped as his fingers finally hit the right spot, tossing your head back as his fingers made circles at your bundle or nerves.

You opened your legs more, leaning on your arms on your back, head tossed back and eyes closed as you feel your impending orgasm.

He dipped his hand inside your underwear and collected some of your essence with his fingers. The mental picture of him licking his fingers deliciously is enough to get you off for weeks.

It didn't take long before he took your panties off and his ducked his head down. He opened your legs once again and licked one long stripe on your core, making sure to taste all of you. You sat there and watch as he hungrily takes all of you in his mouth, acting like your pussy is a full course meal and he's been starving for years.

Within moments, you've become a moaning, toe curled mess. You ran your fingers to his blonde hair, guiding him on how to move his tongue and fingers on you. At one point, he bit some of your sensitive skin, making you scream a string of curses under your breath.

"Stop stop stop."

You grab a fistful of his hair and he paused from what he was doing. You pushed him gently away from you, leaving him staring at you confusedly. The confusion didn't last long when you flipped your current position, you're now on top.

"Can I ride your face?"

At this point, you're bold and horny enough to use your words and ask him. He just nodded, sliding himself from underneath you and went back to eating you like a champ. You grabbed his hands and placed them across your chest, squeezing your breasts to send him a message. He was quick to pick up and followed suit, pinching your nipples right in between fingers while your ride his face to orgasm.

"Shit. I'm coming..."

  You writhed from above him as you come undone. Your body felt cold all over. Your eyes are ringing, feeling dizzy as you almost passed out while you bucked your hips a few more times to milk your release.

You didn’t have time to recover when you heard your phone ringing from outside. Your legs felt a little shaky and you almost tumbled and hit your head in the wall if Jeno didn’t help you get up. You  sat down on the floor, butt-ass naked as you frantically searched for your phone from under all of your stuff before you finally pressed the answer button.

“Yes mom?”

“Where have you been? Your father’s been looking for you at the library. He’s picking you up on your way home.”

You buried your head on the couch to shake off the buzzing feeling on your head. You placed a pillow on your body while you searched for your discarded clothes all over the hotel room.

“Oh yeah. I went to the café and got something to eat. Tell Dad I’ll meet him outside the library.”

“Okay sweetie. Can you pick up some groceries on your way back? I’ll text you the list.”

“Yeah mom. Bye.”

You breathe a sigh of relief as you started putting on the outfit that you wore when you left home.

“Where are you going?”

Jeno reluctantly got dressed as well, his shy demeanor came back as soon as he wore his glasses and fixed his hair.

“I got to go, Jeno. I’m sorry that I’m leaving in such a bad time…”

You went over to him and placed a sweet kiss on his lips.

“I promise to make it up to you next time, okay? I’d love to meet you again.”

You grabbed a paper bag from your backpack and handed it to him, waving as you bolted out the door.

After fixing his things, he sat down for a moment and took a quick peek inside the package that you left him.

It was a ziplock bag of full of cookies and a whole other treat.

You left him your two-piece lace lingerie.

To be continued.

[lizzylucky]

•Masterpost (Incomplete)•

Contents Below The Cut: About Me, Other Blogs I Run, Fandoms, Blorbos, Tag List (TBD), Other Media Platforms (TBD)

[Cut-Insert appears to be missing from Mobile? Will be fixed on Computer]

:readmore:

About Me (sorry, 'tis a lot):

Hi! My name is Elizabeth. I have many (MANY) nicknames, but the one I usually go by online is Lizzy.

I am a heterosexual, cis-gendered female, who prefers she/her pronouns. I'll be 22 on June 1st this year ('22)!

I'm an aspiring... Everything, really. Author/Actor/Poet/Artist/Animator/Singer/Interior Architect/Dancer?/Seamstress/Pet Keeper..... I just love to create and share!!

I consider myself an ally. I'm not perfect, not a reliable source of LGBT+ info, and have lots to learn. Regardless, I will NEVER judge you for your gender, sexual orientation, attraction, age, gender, race, circumstance, or opinion. I also will never force MY perceptions on you. I will ALWAYS respect your preferred pronouns to the best of my ability, and will always respect your opinions even when I disagree You are safe to be yourself with me, and if I ever do or say something harmful or misinformative, you have my permission, nay, my encouragement, to call me out, educate me, ask I delete or alter something, or contact me privately. I will do everything I can to be a neutral grounds, and all inclusive; THIS IS A PROMISE.

I am neurodivergent and mentally ill; diagnosed with Autism and Acute Anxiety, have had two medical professionals agree I have Clinical Depression, ADHD, OCD, and PTSD, and I personally believe I have Executive Function Disorder, too. Again, I'm not a perfect source of information, but I'm knowledgeable enough; and open-minded. To reiterate, if you have any of these or similar, YOU ARE SAFE HERE. You can stim, vent, rant or info dump; I will be THRILLED to be a part or listen; because this is exactly what I am like in real life. You never have to apologize for anything "weird" or "quirky", or for "being depressing", or having a lot to say or repeatedly interacting or flooding my inbox or always focusing on the same topics- Never.

Other Blogs I run:

Lizart Central, @lizart-central This is where you can find ALL my art. And just art! It's a semi-new-ish blog, so it won't have art older than a couple years. Take a look!

The Story Of Officially, @thestoryof-officially This started as a 365 writing prompts challenge. I decided to try doing it every year, too, but never once completed the challenge. It's been inactive for a while, but I intent to pick it back up again soon.

Perler Pattern Mania, @moonstonedragon This blog is purposed entirely to perler bead patterns and projects! It is... VERY old, and has been inactive for a long time. There's not tons of content, but feel free to check it out!

Fandoms

Cartoons -- Ninjago, She-Ra, DuckTales, Danny Phantom, Gravity Falls, My Little Pony, Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure, Tales of Arcadia, Avatar The Last Airbender, The Dragon Prince, Big Mouth/Human Resources, Invader Zim, Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, Far-Fetched

Anime -- Digimon Adventure/02/Tri, Avatar: The Last Airbender, Miraculous Ladybug, Ghost Hunt, This Art Club Has A Problem/There's A Problem With This Art Club, Ouran High School Host Club

Shows -- Dr Who, Supernatural, The Haunting of Hill House, The Haunting of Bly Manor, Agent Carter, DareDevil, Agents of Shield, Jessica Jones, Loki

Movies -- Almost everything Disney, Marvel, DreamWorks, Pixar; also love Harry Potter (please note that I no longer make purchases related to or share/create/interact with content for this series). Soft spots for: Encanto, The Bad Guys, The Ice Age Series, Invader Zim: Enter the Florpus, Coraline, Corpse Bride

Web Comics -- LINKED UNIVERSE LINKED UNIVERSE LINKED UNIVERSE LINKED UNIVERSE, Room of Swords, Lore Olympus, Castle Swimmer, Not Even Bones

Video Games -- Legend of Zelda Series, Harvest Moon: The Tale of Two Towns, Sonic and All-stars Racing Transformed, Mario Kart, Luigi's Mansion

I can promise you there are a LOT I haven't even mentioned, feel free to ask about it!

(Current) Blorbos

FOUR FROM LINKED UNIVERSE. FOUR. FOUR FOUR FOUR FOUR!!!!!! THE BOY. HERO OF THE FOUR SWORD. HERO OF MEN/LIGHT/MINISH/ETC. FOURRRRRRRRRRFHDDJCHDICHKSKSHSO

Mr Wolf (The Bad Guys)

Danny Phantom (Duh)

Loki (MCU)

Zane (Ninjago)

Adrien Agreste (Miraculous Ladybug)

Princess Luna (MLP)

Hades,Persephone (Lore Olympus)

Gyrus (Room of Swords)

Tag List -- TBD

Other Media Platforms -- TBD

[kissinginkitchens]

You Bring Me Home — Chapter One: Flightless Bird, American Mouth

a/n: I've been working on this story for mooonths now and I'm so excited to finally share it with the world! It's heavily inspired by Harry's Behind the Album mini doc, except I changed the setting to Hawai'i because I've personally spent some time there and as they say, write what you know! YBMH takes place in the period between One Direction's hiatus and Harry's first album/tour, but with that being said, this is entirely a work of fiction and some events don't follow the true timeline. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my little story, I hope you love it as much as I do! It will be updated every Friday at 5 PM PST. My inbox is open, so feel free to talk to me once you've finished reading! I'd love to hear from you :) Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai'i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 5.5k

May, 2016

Harry watches LAX get smaller through the airplane window and visualizes all of his worries stuck at the terminal gate, their magnitude also diminishing as he takes flight. He sinks lower in his seat and skims through playlists on his phone when a nagging feeling at the back of his mind pulls his attention away from the screen. Looking up from the song choices, he spots a cell phone quickly lowered from his line of vision and a girl with flushed cheeks who quickly averts her gaze. Harry shoots a tight-lipped smile in her direction and goes back to his phone with a sigh. The days when he could roam the streets freely without fear of recognition—or worse, harassment—feel like an entirely different lifetime. He sometimes imagines that he’ll wake up back in his childhood bed as if the past five years had all been a dream, but he never does. In fact, his privacy and anonymity seem to dwindle with each minute of radio play that One Direction receives. It’s a bittersweet pill to swallow, but one he hopes will go down easier with some time in the Hawaiian sun.

His close friend and new manager, Jeff Azoff, had suggested the vacation as soon as the band privately agreed to take a hiatus.

“You’ll go home for a few weeks,” his voice had crackled through the speakers of Harry’s phone. “Visit your mom and Gem, lay low for a while until the smoke blows over,”

Harry mulled it over in his mind, eyes flickering over the rolling landscape outside of the tour bus window.

“Then what?”

“Then you go for a little vacation. The label offered to cover a house in Hawaii so you can start working on the album,”

“Alone?”

Jeff chuckled lightly on the other end before responding. “I mean, if that’s what you want,”

“No,” Harry corrected. “You and Tom should come. Mitch and Bhasker, too,”

“The dream team,”

“And there’ll be a studio there?”

“Yes,” Jeff started, almost hesitant. “But I don’t want you to think about that too much,”

“But you said the label—"

“I also said vacation. Look, Rob said ‘it will all happen in due time,' did he not?”

Harry twisted the rose ring around his finger, tracing over the silver petals and thinking back to his conversation with the CEO of Sony Music, Rob Stringer. Upon the proposal of his debut solo album, Rob had told him that the most important ingredient for a successful debut would be patience. The singer had agreed in the moment, but every day not spent in the studio felt like a test he hadn’t studied hard enough for.

“Yeah.”

“So you take the free vacation,” Jeff suggested. “You go out, live, get some writing material. Maybe mess around with some tunes. And then we come back to L.A. and get to work. But until then, I just want you to focus on taking it easy.”

So take it easy he had. Or at least he had tried to when he was back home in England. Harry quickly grew restless after what felt like the millionth awkward conversation with past friends and acquaintances, all of which eventually led to the topic of One Direction and it’s unexpected hiatus. After one month at home, his mind and journal were full of ideas for songs, things that he wanted to say before he lost his nerve. One night as he tossed and turned in bed, he shot Jeff a text, just two words that would kick off a three month getaway to the Big Island of Hawai'i:

I’m ready.

********

“Sounds great, I'll go put in your order.” Alani offers sweetly, trying not to overdo it with the customer service voice. After waiting on the family at her designated table, she heads back to the kitchen and finds her younger sister, Pua, crouched in the corner taking what appears to be a serious phone call.

“I don’t know, I just saw it!” Her sister cries in a hushed tone. “Where do you think he’s going?”

“Is everything okay?” Alani cuts in with concern.

Pua whispers into the speaker before bringing the phone to her shoulder.

“Harry Styles was just spotted on a plane this morning,”

“Who?”

“The guy from One Direction,” her sister explains with a hint of irritation in her voice. “The band who sings that song you secretly like, ‘Fireproof,'”

Alani vaguely recalls the melody, but she waits expectantly for Pua to elaborate. “And this is news because…”

“Because the band just broke up, so where could he possibly be going?”

"The unemployment office?”

Pua rolls her eyes and returns to her phone call while Alani envelops her in a tight hug.

“I’m just kidding!” Alani apologizes, squeezing tighter despite her sister’s attempts to break free. “I’m sure he’ll be living off of royalty checks until he’s, like, eighty,”

“Get off me, freak!” Pua cries out, finally breaking the embrace.

Alani clutches her chest and pulls out an invisible knife. “Ouch. I’m telling Harry you said that,”

“This is exactly why I don’t tell you things.” the younger sister huffs, storming out of the kitchen through the employee entrance where Alani’s best friend, Maleah, has just arrived.

“Looks like someone forgot to eat their Cheerios today,” she remarks, tying her curls into a high ponytail.

Alani shrugs and leans against the counter. “She’s going through something. Just discovered that boys in pop bands are, in fact, just regular boys.”

“Poor thing,” Maleah frowns. “We all have to learn eventually.”

********

The sky is a blend of cotton candy pink and burnt orange when Alani returns home from the café with a strawberry smoothie in tow. She empties the mailbox and sorts through the various bills and advertisements, but her stomach drops when she sees a familiar return address label. After a quick greeting to her excited dog who waits at the door, Alani bolts up the stairs and quietly shuts the bedroom door behind her. Breathe, she reminds herself before tearing into the envelope and discarding it onto the wooden floor.

Dear Ms. Hale,

We are very grateful to have received your submission to Rolling Stone magazine. However, we regret to inform you—

She doesn’t read the rest, slumping to the floor in defeat. The sixth rejection letter from Rolling Stone lies crumpled at Alani’s feet and she kicks it across the room with a frustrated grunt. She had worked for over two months perfecting her analysis of Joni Mitchell’s Big Yellow Taxi and its allusions to the environmental impact of urban development in Hawaii. As part of her initial research, Alani had even traveled to both the Royal Hawaiian hotel in Honolulu, which is the famous Pink Hotel mentioned in the song, and Foster Botanical Garden that Mitchell referred to as “the tree museum.” She was certain that her effort and persistence would result in at least a consideration. The second third time's the charm! Maleah had joked watching Alani submit the piece. Six articles in the span of two years, each one facing the same rejection despite the increased effort Alani had put in over time. The fact that the rejection letter hadn’t changed over the course of the two years brings an incredulous smile to her face, and her stomach turns when she considers that the editors probably hadn’t even read her work, anyway. All that effort, she thinks to herself, all that time, for nothing.

“It will take time,” her favorite professor, Dr. Hudson, had reassured her three months after the Joni Mitchell article was submitted. “Every great writer faced countless rejection until that one piece. Yours will come. Keep your eyes open and your pen ready.”

Alani sighs and lifts herself off the floor, choosing to crawl into her unmade bed instead of slumping onto the hardwood. She hears a soft scratching at the door before her King Charles Spaniel, Freddie, pads into the room.

“Come here, bubs,” Alani whispers. He obeys and burrows into the duvet, giving her temple a gentle lick before nuzzling into the nape of her neck.

“You still love me, right?” she asks, voice cracking. “Even if I’m a failure?”

Freddie sniffs her ear in response.

********

“Right,” Harry says, his tongue peeking from the corner of his mouth as he reads the map. “No, left, sorry,”

“Do you actually know how to read a map?” Jeff teases, correcting the turn.

Harry pouts in response, his brows furrowing. “In my defense, we’re literally in the middle of fucking nowhere,”

“There are worse places to be,” Mitch pipes up from the back seat. “England, for example, where they say things like ‘litchrally’,”

“Very well said, Mitchell,” Jeff Bhasker adds with a fake British accent of his own.

Harry turns to his friends in the back seat with a finger pointed like an agitated mother. “If you lot don’t shut up, I’m gonna lead us to a volcano and push you in,”

“Where are we even going? I forgot,” Tom complains.

“To get food,” his manager responds from the driver’s seat. “I think,”

“Why can’t we just stop there?” Mitch asks pointing to a café pulling up on their right.

Jeff merges into the turning lane quickly without a second thought. “Good enough for me, I’m starving.”

“Sorry, H.” Mitch pats his friend on the shoulder.

Harry scoffs. “You’re the one who wanted poke.”

The Aloha Nui Loa Café is much more spacious than the exterior suggests, yet it still feels cozy. The walls are painted sage green and adorned with various local art pieces, as described by the plaques that accompany them. A skylight fills the center of the room with plenty of warm lighting, leaving the space along the walls in a bit more shade for an intimate feel. In one corner, a hanging disco ball leaves freckles of sparkling light along the walls where the sunlight hits, making the whole image very idyllic in Harry’s mind. As if he couldn’t enjoy the setting more, he hears the beginning of an Otis Redding song that he’s had stuck in his head drift through the restaurant speakers.

“Welcome in!” a voice calls, which pulls him from his survey of the room. His head whips to the source—a girl around his age with wavy, dark hair and honey skin. “For here or to go?”

Harry takes a hesitant step up to the counter. “For here,”

She smiles warmly and pulls some menus from under the counter. “How many in your party?”

“Five.”

“Great, follow me.”

Harry and his friends follow the waitress to the corner of the room under the disco ball and take their seats at the round table.

“My name is Alani,” she introduces herself, setting the menus down. “I’ll be serving you today. Can I get you started with some drinks?”

Harry continues scanning the restaurant while his group orders. His eyes land on the shirt that Alani is wearing, a white tee with the words “Enjoy Health, Eat Your Honey” in blue lettering that surrounds a picture of a cartoon bee.

“Harry,” Jeff says gently, catching his drifting attention.

The singer turns to his manager, who nods to Alani waiting with a pen pressed to her notepad. Harry feels a rush of embarrassment creep across his cheeks and he clears his throat to cover it.

“Just water,” he says, eyes glued to the menu. “Thanks.”

“You got it.” Alani nods, flashing a toothy grin at the rest of the group before turning back to the kitchen. Harry. Her mind repeats, finding a hint of familiarity, though she doesn’t know why.

When Alani arrives at the drink station, she finds her sister staring at her, mouth agape, while Maleah unsuccessfully conceals her laughter.

“What?” she questions, checking herself for any embarrassing stains or smells.

“You were—and he—” Pua stammers. “He was—and then he—”

“That’s Harry Styles,” Maleah translates, her voice hushed as she peers over her friend's shoulder.

Alani turns to steal a glance at the table she just seated, but Pua and Maleah latch onto her and shake their heads frantically.

“Don’t look!” her sister hisses.

Alani smirks, amused at their reactions. “No shit. That’s One Direction?”

Maleah snorts, clasping a hand over her mouth as Pua huffs. “No, dumbass! It’s just Harry. I don’t know who the other guys are,”

“But the blonde guy? That’s not—?”

“No!” Pua and Maleah giggle in unison.

“Okay, geez,” Alani relents. She manages to steal a quick glance at the table over her shoulder, immediately searching for Harry. Her eyes scan over the long, curly hair kept out of his face by a pair of white sunglasses that she had seen on Kurt Cobain once. All of his features are sharp and striking, from his pointed nose and defined jawline to the bright blue eyes. Or maybe they were grey? Alani wonders, trying to remember the exact shade. He doesn’t look anything like the fresh-faced teeny bopper she’d had in mind, the one from a music video her sister had shown her a long time ago. She would have never guessed that the What Makes You Beautiful singer had so much dark ink trailing down his bicep and forearm, though her knowledge of One Direction was very limited.

“What did he order?” Pua questions, her eyes wide.

Alani quickly snaps back to reality and resumes filling the drinks. “A water,”

“Oh my god,” Maleah swoons. “I’m never drinking anything else ever again,”

“I didn’t even know you liked him,” Alani teases with an eyebrow raised.

Maleah sneaks another peek at the table and catches her lower lip between her teeth. “I mean, I didn’t really think so either but look at him. What a fucking dream,”

Harry was objectively handsome, this Alani could admit, but she personally didn’t see the appeal and had a strong feeling that he was just like every other male celebrity. The fact that he hadn’t even bothered to make eye contact with her only served as further proof of what she knew to be true.

“Okay, well, your dreamboat is waiting for his water. So excuse me,” Alani winks, making her way back to the table.

The singer spots Alani returning out of the corner of his eye and the sight of her causes a strange flutter in the pit of his stomach that makes him want to duck for cover. Instead, he pulls his phone from his back pocket and pretends to be occupied with something on the screen.

“Okay,” she greets, setting the drink tray down. “I have a Blue Hawaii, a Mango Mama, two Loco Cocos, and a water,”

The group graciously accepts their drinks with a chorus of “thank you," but the only one under Alani’s scrutiny is Harry. He still doesn’t meet her almond eyes, and though she figured he wouldn’t, she can’t help the inkling of disappointment that washes over her. After taking their meal orders, Alani heads back to the kitchen, checking on her other customers along the way. Harry’s eyes follow her and he observes the way customers light up at her presence, indulging her conversation with laughter. He watches as she lingers by the jukebox in one corner of the room, a detail he had missed in his initial scan, and waits anxiously to see what song she chooses. Baby I’m-a Want You begins softly and Harry feels the corner of his lip curl ever so slightly. Good choice, he thinks.

********

“He’s still here,” Pua muses, peering through the tiny window in the kitchen door. It had been nearly two hours and the five men were still seated around their table cracking jokes and doing a lot of talking with their hands.

Alani doesn’t look up from her bowl of sliced kiwis, offering a hum in response. “And what do you want me to do about that?”

“Nothing,” Pua shoots back. “Don’t bother him,”

“What kind of girls do you think he’s into?” Maleah asks, attempting to peek through the window.

Alani shrugs, bored of the conversation and of thinking about Harry. “I don’t know, but I’ll bet he’s a real sucker for the ones who stalk him while he’s eating,”

“How does he make eating a salad look hot?”

“Can we talk about something else now?” Alani whines, poking holes in a lone kiwi with her fork.

Pua tosses a wet dish rag in her sister’s direction and cheers when it lands in her face. “Go see if he wants more water, he looks thirsty.”

“I already refilled it,” Alani defends. “Twenty minutes ago. I’ve refilled it a hundred times, I’m surprised he hasn’t peed his pants.”

I’m gonna piss myself. Harry thinks, his right leg bouncing to distract himself. He really wasn’t all that thirsty, but he couldn’t stop himself from finishing each glass of water that Alani placed in front of him. He really wasn’t all that thirsty, but he couldn’t stop himself from finishing each glass of water that Alani placed in front of him. Like clockwork, she would return to fill his glass almost as soon as the last drop had been drained, and so what began as a little experiment slowly turned into a bladder hazard. But if the trend was to be trusted, she would be back any minute and he wasn’t going to miss it; afterall, there were only so many ways to casually linger in a small café without making it weird. Unable to bear it any longer, he heads to the restroom and hopes that Alani doesn’t clear their table before he has a chance to see her again.

Harry pads down the back hallway with his eyes cast down at the floor, which proves to be a mistake when he walks directly into another person.

“Sorry!” they both apologize quickly, Harry’s palm taking purchase on the other person’s upper arm.

“I wasn’t paying attention,” he offers, finally meeting the dark, mocha eyes already looking back at him.

Alani presses her lips into a tight smile. “Me either,”

Harry’s heartbeat picks up when he realizes it’s her, and he isn’t aware of how close they’re standing until he detects the faint scent of kiwi on her breath. He takes a step back and rakes a hand through his hair.

“So I guess I’ll just—”

“Yeah, sure.”

Green. Alani notes to herself. His eyes are green.

********

Shortly after Harry returned from the restroom, him and his friends settled their bill and headed out. Alani cleared their table and her eyes nearly fell out of her head when she saw the hefty tip left behind. The word mahalo was also left behind on the receipt, underlined twice, and she wondered if it was his handwriting.

Later that night, she settled into bed with her laptop and hesitantly typed his name into Google. As she expected, countless articles about the split of One Direction emerged, most of them speculating what was next for each member. To her surprise, however, Harry’s name seemed to be mentioned more than his fellow bandmates as various sources labeled him “the next Justin Timberlake” and rising star of the group. Upon further investigation, she learned that the demand for information about the elusive Harry Styles was high, especially concerning any possible solo music. No news had yet been confirmed by Styles himself, nor anyone claiming to represent him, but she still wondered if his presence in Hawaii had anything to do with a possible solo project. Almost as soon as she thought it, Alani dismissed the theory in favor of the idea that he was most likely just taking a vacation. And from the buzz that she saw surrounding the news about One Direction, she couldn’t blame him.

The more Alani read, the more she wanted to know, and something deep down told her that his was a story worth telling. Of course, the only problem was that she had hardly talked to him, and there were only so many things she could say about the fifteen glasses of water he downed. There was no way of knowing if she would ever see him again, either, or if he was merely stopping in Hilo on his way to another island or somewhere else entirely. Alani sighed, thinking back to her most recent rejection from Rolling Stone. She knew that there was no possible way she would ever see or talk to Harry ever again, and even if she did, why would he bare his entire soul to a stranger? Still, she let her mind wander through the possibility.

Dear Ms. Hale, the letter would read, we are very grateful to have received your submission to Rolling Stone magazine and are pleased to inform you that your piece on Harry Styles will be featured in next month’s issue. Additionally, we would be honored to have you on staff, effective immediately.

It was far-fetched, Alani knew this, but she dozed off that night with endless ideas swimming in her head.

********

By the third day after his visit, the only trace of Harry is in Alani’s search history. She would have completely forgotten about him if it weren’t for her sister’s constant reminiscing and multiple attempts to rename the house salad to the “Harry Special.” As a result, a part of Alani’s thoughts periodically linger back to that day and the subsequent hours spent on Google that she’d rationalized as research instead of stalking. Somehow the knowledge that she’ll never see him again only adds fuel to the questions still burning in her mind, but a customer clearing their throat while she sorts menus below the hostess podium interrupts her thoughts.

“Welcome in!” She calls, standing. “What can I—”

She stops in her tracks, unable to believe her eyes. Harry blinks and waits for her to continue.

“What can I get started for you?” Alani tries again, hoping that he hadn’t noticed her shock. Luckily for her, Harry had been too focused on choosing his next words to register her mistake.

“What’s in the Honu smoothie?” he asks, mentally kicking himself for asking such a stupid question when the menu just inches above her head clearly spells it out.

Alani hums, thinking back to the times she had made the smoothie herself. “Kiwis, spinach, mango, avocado, and a hint of lime,”

“I’ll take one of those,” Harry says, reaching for his wallet.

Alani punches in the order with trembling fingers and nods. “For here or to go?”

“To go,”

Disappointment fills her chest. Sure, she hadn’t planned on seeing him ever again, but the fact that she did felt like a sign. If she wanted to take the chance, she’d have to do it fast.

“Anything else?” she asks, weighing her options while he skims the menu.

“No thanks.”

Alani makes the smoothie quickly, head spinning. She had spent most of the night after their initial meeting planning out exactly the type of questions she hoped to ask him and what kind of article she would write. She was used to writing about what she knew—artists and music she’d admired for years— but she figured that starting fresh with someone she hardly knew would be a good challenge. Not to mention that it seemed like just the thing Rolling Stone would jump for. Alani finally works up the courage as she finishes his smoothie, but when she returns to hand it to him and hopefully strike up a conversation, his ear is pressed to his cell phone. She holds out the drink and he graciously accepts, giving her a small nod as a “thank you” and rushing out of the restaurant.

Two days later he returns and is seated at the counter, typing away on his phone. Alani feels both a rush of optimism and annoyance at the universe for dangling his presence so unexpectedly. She starts heading over to him, but Maleah cuts in.

“Trade me?” she proposes, eyes wide.

Alani blinks. “Oh, I would but I—”

“Please,” her best friend pouts. “I’m leaving to see my grandparents in stupid California for two months. Who knows when I’ll get the chance to see him again?”

Alani sighs, but gives in, reluctantly exchanging Harry for the family of four seated by the window. A strange feeling settles into the pit of his stomach when he sees that she heads in the opposite direction after a hushed conversation with another waitress. He doesn’t know why she traded him for a different customer, but he takes the hint.

A week goes by without another sighting of Harry and Alani has permanently taken on the role of greeting hostess in hopes of seeing him again. Her heartbeat temporarily speeds up when she sees a long haired customer approach the door, but her spirits quickly fall when the face doesn’t match his.

Another week brings another disappointing realization that Harry might be gone for good. One rainy morning when the restaurant is quiet and only two customers huddle together in a booth near the back, Alani hunches over the hostess podium and doodles on a stray receipt— a sunflower, a crescent moon, and two hearts. The bell above the door jingles but she doesn’t look up, too absorbed in her scribbles.

“Do you serve coffee?”

The familiar accented voice stops Alani’s pen dead in its tracks. She lifts her eyes first to confirm, and then straightens up when she sees that her ears haven’t deceived her.

“Yes,” she swallows.

“Great. I’ll take it to go,”

She slightly deflates, but Harry thinks he’s reading too much into it.

“Actually,” he corrects anyway, just in case he isn’t. “I think I’ll stay for a while,”

Alani flashes a warm smile and nods in the direction of the counter. “Right this way,”

Harry sheds his windbreaker onto the back of the seat, revealing a black and white Rolling Stones t-shirt that makes Alani’s blood pressure rise. A sign, she thinks.

“What do you want in your coffee?” she questions carefully.

“Nothing,” he responds, shaking out his damp hair gently. “Or actually, uh, butter...if you have some,”

Alani blinks, not sure if she’d heard correctly or if there had been some transatlantic miscommunication.

“Butter?”

“Yeah,”

“Like the—”

“Spread, yeah,” Harry confirms. “It’s weird, I know,”

She lets out a light-hearted laugh and nods. “It’s a...unique request,”

“I thought the same thing at first,” Harry confides. “It’s not bad, actually. But maybe I’ve just been in L.A. for too long.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

She offers a polite smile and heads to the kitchen where the cook and two other waiters talk amongst each other. Alani is grateful that the restaurant is slow this morning because she knows that it means minimal interruptions to her time with Harry. To ensure this, though, she asks one of the other waiters to cover the podium and returns to Harry with his coffee.

“One butter coffee, free of judgement,” the waitress announces, setting it down.

Harry grins softly, stirring the drink with the spoon Alani provided. “You can judge, it’s alright,”

“I just wanna know why,”

The coffee had been part of a fad diet while on tour in order to boost Harry’s energy on stage and stay trim for the hundreds of photo-ops he would be a part of. He doesn’t know how to communicate all of this to Alani, however, not sure how much she knows about that part of him, so he shrugs and tells a simplified version of the truth.

“I read about this trend a while back, it's called bulletproof coffee. Supposed to get your energy up and I needed it for my job,”

“Which is…” Alani trails off, downplaying the knowledge that she had acquired from Google.

“I make music,” is all Harry says and he takes a sip of the drink to avoid elaborating.

“Anything I would have heard?”

He swallows hard and listens to the faint rumbling of thunder outside before replying. “Possibly,”

“Try me,” Alani challenges.

He narrows his eyes and takes another sip of coffee. “Why don’t you tell me something about yourself first?”

“What do you wanna know?”

Everything, Harry responds internally, though he reigns it in. “How you got into waitressing,”

Alani sighs, resting her elbows on the counter across from him. “There’s not much to tell, it’s a family business. What I really wanna do is write,”

“Music?”

“Articles. I’m studying Journalism at UH,”

Harry hums in response, filing the detail away in the back of his mind. “Sounds interesting. You ever publish anything?”

“Not yet,” Alani shakes her head gently, toying with the sleeves of her green University of Hawaii crewneck. “Hopefully soon, though,”

Harry racks his brain for something else to say, but before he can, Alani speaks up again.

“Is it my turn to ask something now?”

He offers a curt nod and stirs his coffee.

“What kind of music do you write?”

Harry chooses to be vague again. “Different stuff. Pop, usually. Been messing with some classic rock, though,”

“Explains the shirt,”

He peers down at the design on his tee and agrees. “Yeah, I guess so,”

“Do you like it?” Alani asks, her eyes begging to make contact with his again. “Writing music, I mean,”

“Yeah,” Harry confirms, tapping his spoon against the rim of the mug. “I really do,”

Alani’s heart pounds. This is her chance, a moment to finally secure her breakthrough piece. She doesn’t know how to approach it, so she opts to dive right in without looking back. The worst he can say is no.

“Can I ask you something else?”

“That’s cheating,” Harry teases lightly. “It's my turn,”

She pouts playfully, but obliges. “Fire away,”

Harry doesn’t know which question to ask first, but when he glances down at the crescent moon inked on her wrist, he decides to start there.

“What’s with the moon tattoo?”

Alani isn’t sure what she expected him to ask and wonders what purpose such a detail could possibly serve him, but she answers anyway.

“Oh, well,” she begins, tracing her index finger over the outline. “It’s kinda the meaning of my full name. It’s Mahealani, Hawaiian for ‘heavenly moon,'”

Fitting, Harry comments to himself. Every detail he learns about her makes him want to learn that much more, from her favorite foods to the last thing she thinks about before falling asleep. Studying her expectant eyes, he suddenly remembers that it’s his turn to respond.

“That’s cool,” is all he says.

Alani doesn’t know what to make of the faraway look in his eye, but she decides to pose her most burning question while he appears to be in good spirits.

“I know this is gonna sound totally out of the blue,” she starts, working past the lump in her throat. “But when you mentioned how you write music, I was just reminded of this assignment I’m working on in my class,”

Harry waits for her to continue, nursing his now lukewarm coffee.

“I’m supposed to write a piece about someone who I don’t know that well,” she continues. “You know, to practice our interviewing skills. And, well, I was just kind of wondering if you might be interested in helping me out—being the subject, I mean,”

Alani had every intention of telling Harry the truth, about how she really planned to submit the article to Rolling Stone in hopes of securing an internship before her college graduation next Spring. But as she started speaking, she quickly realized how it would come off: a complete stranger asking for personal information to submit to a well-known publication. She knew that there was a chance he would shut down and never return, so she lowered the stakes and hoped that this route would be less risky. Was it ethical? Alani hadn’t decided yet, but she would work out the details later. After six failed articles and two years of rejection, she saw a ray of hope and wasn’t going to let it slip away.

Harry ponders her offer for a moment, which confirms that she had recognized him. Normally he would be off-put by such a request, and to a certain extent he is, but there is something sincere in her voice that he trusts deep down. Before he agrees, however, he decides to fish around a bit to test her reaction.

“You know who I am,” he says gently. “Don’t you?”

Alani’s heart drops into the pit of her stomach, not sure what to say next. She hopes with every fiber of her being that she hasn’t upset him, or worse, ruined her chances, so she decides to offer some truth to throw him off her scent.

“My sister recognized you,” she explains. “That day you came in with your friends. I thought they were your bandmates at first,”

This lets Harry know that she isn’t a total stalker, which is comforting, but he wouldn’t have been minded if she were a fan simply engaging in conversation.

“Oh,” he laughs weakly.

“I totally understand if you say no,” Alani offers quickly, trying to smooth things over. “I just thought it was worth a shot. And that it might be more interesting than interviewing our produce guy,”

Harry decides to give her one last scan for any sign of insincerity. He’d always felt that his gut instinct was strong and it hadn’t led him astray thus far.

“An interview?” he clarifies.

“Just one,” Alani promises. “An hour, tops. And you can proofread all of it once I’ve finished, too.”

Harry waits a beat, already knowing his reply, but he wants to see how she will react to his silence. She doesn’t budge, almond eyes set and determined.

“Okay.”

next chapter

[sweet-symphony0]

Legacy: Epilogue

Author's Note: well...we've reached the end. We made it. I also found out today is World Teachers Day, so what could be a more fitting day to finish. I've been putting off writing this because I didn't want it to end. Not even sure I'm ready to say goodbye to this. It'll be weird, not having this to write for every Tuesday, but this has been amazing. Love this story, love these twins, love you guys. This fandom is pretty great and I'm so happy I got to share this with all of you. Thank you. My inbox is open if you want to come chat all things Legacy with me (please do, send me prompts/asks, I’m not ready to let go). ♥️🖤

Previous Chapter

Tags: @the-real-ramimalekpeen @xmxisxforxmaybe @laminy @hah0106 @ramilicious @ramimedley​​​ @edteche2 @txmel @sassystrawberryk @moon-stars-soul

---

The nominations came out in early January the following year, four months after the film's release, after its run in theatres and when it eventually hit Netflix. After all the press tours had been finished, after the night of the premiere, when everyone had gotten spectacularly drunk. Three months after Sami's students had stopped pestering him with questions, whispering about him when they saw him in the hallways, having seen the film for themselves. Three months after his own colleagues had stopped asking him millions of questions, half-joking (or not, Sami couldn't tell) that they were annoyed they hadn't made it into the film.

He was deep into teaching his fourth period when he heard his phone starting to ring, and he ignored it, continuing his review for midterms. But even as the ringing ended, another call was happening, texts were coming in, and Sami stopped to wonder what was happening that was so important, and then mentally told himself the period was almost over and wait until then. That was until his neighbor, a fellow English teacher, knocked on his door and peeked in, smiling in excitement.

"Sorry, sorry, I know you're teaching-but I just had come congratulate you, I just saw the news-"

Sami blinked. What news? "Sorry?"

Her face dropped. "Oh, you don't know?"

"Know what?"

"Know that-" She gestured vaguely and then looked around the room, keenly aware of every student watching. "Golden Globe nominations came out today. Your brother is nominated."

"What?"

Sami dropped the marker he was holding as his jaw dropped, not even registering when his kids started cheering. Rushing to get his phone, he knew he wouldn't be teaching for the rest of the period, not when there was only ten minutes left and he couldn't focus. Sure enough, when he dug it out of his bag, he had nineteen text messages, four missed calls, and two emails. He scrolled the missed calls first, seeing one from Jasmine and his mother respectively, then their texts they'd sent when he hadn't answered. He sorted through till he found the link someone had sent of the nominations, clicking it and scrolling Vanity Fair's website till he came to the "Best Actor-Drama" category. Sure enough, there was Rami Malek-Raised Ambition nestled in between Oscar Isaac-Salivation and Joaquin Phoenix-Lovers like Us.

Sami stared, a slow grin spreading across his features, and he looked up at his coworker, and now at his other colleagues who'd joined, standing at the door. His grin broadened when they started clapping, and the kids joined, and Sami couldn't help but laugh in amazement.

"Shit, how am I supposed to teach now?!"

---

Rami was woken up by the sound of his phone ringing. Fumbling for it as he stuck his arm out from under the covers, he checked the caller ID briefly before answering it. "Hello...?"

Sam's voice was too bright. "Oh, did I wake you?"

"...Yes?"

"Well, I'm calling with good news, which seeing how you've been sleeping, you probably haven't heard."

"Good news?" Rami propped himself up on one elbow, mussing his hair once he caught sight of his unruly bed head. "What news?"

"Nominations came out today for the globes. We're nominated."

Rami blinked and put his phone on speaker, going to scroll through his messages now, all of them congratulating him on the news. Finding a full list from his agents, he found his name, staring in shock. It was his sixth time being nominated, and the feeling never got old.

"Holy shit."

"Congrats man," Sam was saying as Rami scrolled through the rest of the list, seeing if anyone else was nominated. "You deserve it."

"Thanks," Rami smiled then, the feeling of elation starting to creep in. "What else did we get?"

"Best cinematography, and best picture. Three nominations is solid."

"No best screenplay? Or director? I'm suing. Bullshit."

"Yeah well, you can sue out of your own pocket, I don't have that kind of money. I'll go broke." Rami laughed and Sam joined in, the euphoria setting in now.

"Three nominations," Rami mused, grinning. "Not bad for our little indie feature."

"No, it's amazing! You should be proud. Go find Sami, celebrate for me."

"Will do," Rami beamed, already moving to his brother's contact to text him. "I'll talk to you later, alright? Fucking hell, go us!"

Sam laughed, after discussing plans to chat again in the evening, Rami hung up, scrolling through his texts, answering each of the well wishes he'd received before he went to call his mother, beaming at the elation in her voice, tearing up alongside her when he heard her voice crack. Next were his agents, his management, his whole team, and after chatting with them for an hour, screaming into the phone and blowing their eardrums out, Sami finally responded:

"We did it. Holy fuck we're nominated. I can't believe this"

Rami laughed, flopping back onto his pillows again as he typed out a response.

"Come over for dinner. Grading can wait one night."

Sami showed up later that night with a bottle of Clase Azul Reposado in hand, wasting no time in cracking it open and pouring it into the two shot glasses Rami laid out upon seeing what Sami had brought with him. Recapping the bottle, he picked his glass up, clinking it carefully against the one Rami held.

"Fuck yeah," was all Rami said before he downed his in a smooth swallow, both wincing and relishing the burn that hit as it slid down his throat. "That's good."

"It is," Sami nodded, looking unfazed by the burn. "I'd forgotten about this bottle, I think you bought it for me."

"Probably."

"Want another?" When Rami laughed and nodded, Sami grinned, pouring them each another glass. "Maybe we should take six."

"What the fuck? Do you want to die? Is that your plan for celebrating?"

"What?" Sami grinned widely. "It's your sixth time nominated, one for each time. It's perfect." Rami went silent, unable to tell if he was serious, and then it looked like he was contemplating it, and Sami snorted. "Dude, I'm kidding. No, I don't want us to die, mom would bring us back to kill us again. I'm not dealing with that."

Rami laughed, but he poured them another shot this time. "She would. Alright fine, three each. That still makes six and that works."

"Cheater," Sami quipped, but he took a lime wedge anyway. "Alright. Cheers." And he tipped the glass back, bringing the lime to his lips, Rami watching with some fascination, marveling how Sami still took tequila shots like they were nothing after all these years. And as he followed suit, he wished, not for the first time, he held his brother's talent. He might like tequila as much as anyone else in Los Angeles, Sami included, but that certainly didn't mean he harbored the same finesse Sami held.

Sliding the glass away, he shook his head slightly to clear it. "Alright, I'm good. That'll fuck me up enough."

"Yep," Sami hiccuped, and then grinned at him. "Now I need food, I still have work tomorrow."

"Right," Rami sprang out of his seat, reaching for the takeout he'd picked up earlier, hearing his phone ringing on the table. "Can you see who that is? It's probably Sam, he said hi."

Sami meandered to the table, smiling when he saw the caller ID, pressing answer as he held the phone up for the FaceTime call. "It's not. It's someone better."

"You're not the twin I called," Jasmine's voice floated through the room, and Sami laughed, walking back to where Rami was heating up food. "I'll take it though."

"You better take it," Sami laughed, looking at her with an incredulous expression. "We all know I'm the better twin."

"Debatable," Rami called over, and he glanced at the screen, smiling at his sister. "Hey, Jazzy."

"Shut up, it is not."

"You're not the one with six Golden Globe nominations-"

"You wouldn't have the sixth if not for me, asshat-"

"Okay," Jasmine cut in, an exasperated expression on her face already. "God, both of you together are annoying sometimes. Rami, congratulations!"

"Thank you," Rami beamed, laughing a little easier now that the tequila was setting in. "I can't believe it. It hasn't sunk in yet."

"You deserve it! I'm excited for you," Jasmine smiled. "It's probably the start to many more."

Rami blushed, heating up another dish for the taco bar he was laying out. "You don't know that."

"I don't, but I'm probably right." And she laughed at the expression on Rami's face, smiling. "Anyway, mom says hi, sends her love, she called right?"

"Yeah, she called," Rami nodded. "This morning. I'll stop by tomorrow."

"Great. Alright, I gotta go, just wanted to say hey. Night guys."

"Night," they chorused, two near identical grins, before hanging up, and Rami placed the phone back down, getting back to work on dinner.

"How's it feel?"

Rami took a minute, mulling it over for the right word. "Surreal, I'd say. This whole thing, it's just wild."

Sami clapped his shoulder. "Better suit up then, since it's not over. Literally." And he grinned when Rami snorted, and then laughed more when Rami sighed, an air of exasperation in his tone.

"That was awful."

---

It didn't matter how many red carpets Rami stood on, how many premieres or award shows he attended, he was sure he would never get used to the flashing lights of cameras in his face. He'd learned over the years, how to smooth out his expression, pose, look good for cameras, dress in ways that helped, but it never got much easier. And the Globes, even with it's laid back manner, was no different.

The Beverly Hilton was packed with reporters, executives, and nominees by the time their limo arrived, and before they'd even all stepped out of the car, Rami could hear people calling his name. He led his family towards the center where the nominees were walking, and while he knew there was a rule as to where family was allowed, he ignored it, up until he got told otherwise.

More posing, more smiling, more interviews, and Rami could feel the excitement settling in, clearing away the nerves as he sought out his favorite reporters on the carpet. It was easy this time, getting to talk about Sami and his profession more than he ever had. He'd never had any difficulty in gushing about Sami, and this time was no different.

By the time they were ushered inside, to their table, champagne glasses in hand, they were all in high spirits, and as Rami took a seat between Sami and Jasmine, he waved to Sam and Emmy sitting across from them. The Golden Globes were a favorite among attendees in Hollywood, due to the fact that there were tables rather than auditorium seating, food along with drinks, and everyone chatted during the commercial breaks. It was as much of a networking event as it was an award show, one that proved to be useful considering Rami had landed three roles alone from this night before.

As the lights dimmed and people took their seats, they watched and waited with baited breath, as each category was called out, applauding for each nominee and winner that was called. They all straightened in anticipation as Best Cinematography was announced, and Rami's eyes found Sam's quickly, cheering as Todd's name was called as a nominee, but that feeling swiftly dissipated into disappointment when it wasn't Todd who was called, but Christopher Doyle instead.

Down the categories they went, as the night got longer, and people got steadily drunker, Rami thought idly that he always forgot, as he drank his third glass of champagne, just how long the Golden Globes were. And finally, when they reached the Best Actor in a Drama-Film category, Rami gripped the edge of the tablecloth so tight he was white-knuckled. The names were announced, running through each one, and a clip from the film for each nominee, and when his own name was announced, "Rami Malek: Raised Ambition," he let out an exhale he didn't even realize he was holding, beaming when Sami grinned at him proudly. They turned their gazes to the screen that was flashing a scene of the film, watching as Rami launched into a monologue, and Rami was fully aware of every camera in the room being on him.

He'd come into this award season not expecting to be nominated, much less win. This was a smaller feature, and yes, it was Sam's production with Lionsgate, so it wasn't nothing. But he hadn't expected it to make award buzz, and remembered staring at the invitation with his name on it in awe when he got it in the mail. He remembered the way he and Sami got drunk that night nominations were announced, and how they had too much tequila, and then made the horrible decision to break out the whiskey too, and then eventually later, much later, passed a vape back and forth between them on the balcony, breathing in the chilly January air. He remembered waking up the next morning with a hangover, but all of that vanishing when he remembered the reason why.

This film hadn't been made for any type of accolade, or recognition, at least not for him. It was a celebration of what he considered to be something pivotal in education, and more importantly, a celebration of his twin, and that was special enough to be proud of. And getting to do it with people he cared about, people like Sam and Amie, who knew him for who he was, getting to work with them every day, was just the icing on top. Whatever happened, being nominated for this was an honor in of itself, and he fully wasn't expecting to win, not against the competition he had. He didn't even have a speech prepared, despite his agent's urging to, but he hadn't seen the need.

So it came as a complete shock to him when his name was called, people looking at him and standing, clapping in his direction.

It took him a moment to register it, his attention drawn to Jasmine screaming and leaping up, nearly knocking over her glass in excitement, and it was then that Sami was pulling him to his feet, hugging him and screaming in his ear, "get up there!"

And Rami beamed, hugging back, shaking his head in amazement, kissing his mother on the cheek, squeezing Amie's hand as he passed, and then he was making his way up the stairs in Emma Stone's direction. Kissing her cheek and taking both the statue and envelope from her, he gazed out at the standing ovation he was getting, suddenly finding himself at a loss for words.

"I...uh..." Rami exhaled, smiling when people cheered again, internally cursing himself for not listening to his team. "I know people say they don't have speeches prepared, but I really didn't. I..I was not expecting this, not with Joaquin right there." There were a few chuckles, and Joaquin winked at him, grinning. "First off, uh...thank you to HFPA for this, and to be nominated amongst these fine actors is a real privilege, and not one I take lightly. I have to thank our producers, Michael Gilbert and Lionsgate, Sam Esmail, our brilliant director, you're stuck with me for life, man, sorry to break it to you." Sam laughed, pointing in his direction, and for a brief moment, Rami caught sight of Yariv Milchin in the crowd, and he felt inwardly smug seeing the expression of distaste Yariv wore.

It fueled him as he grinned, continuing, "my agents, my team, thank you to everyone; the entire cast and crew of this amazing film, all of you who worked so tirelessly on this. Listen, we made a...a heartfelt film on what it means to be passionate, and help others find their passions, and the importance of raising each other up so we can collectively raise the next generation, and I think that's an incredible message. I think it's...an evergreen story, we all have had a teacher in our lives who have influenced us, shaped us to be who we are, and some of them were our earliest supporters; teachers are-they're the backbones of our society, and this film just goes to show the heart and dedication of what it takes to be part of that every day, and I couldn't be more proud to have made it with such an extraordinary group of people."

He took a beat as there was more applauding, shifting his gaze to the table his family was sat, all watching with proud, enamored expressions. "And finally, I have to thank my family, my mom-" More cheering, and Rami could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins. "My, sister, of course my brother, Sami-" he had to raise his voice because the room exploded, and Rami could feel the tears building, the lump in his throat growing as his voice cracked. "Listen, they say to not ever meet your heroes, and sometimes if you're lucky, you get to meet them, but if you're really lucky, you're born with them. And I got that in Sami, and how fortunate am I, because there's no one better. You've been by my side since the beginning, and now we got to do this, which is more than I could have ever dreamed, so-"

Rami's voice wavered, his vision blurred as he locked eyes with Sami's identical blue ones, equally misty-eyed. "Sami...Sami, I love you, this is for you, this is because of you, so get up here."

---

[elliewritessometimes]

hi! i have Returned™ with a prompt from the lovely @notsomightymightytiger that has been sat in my inbox for well over two months oops im sorry-

the prompts relate to a hospital au and a sick/injury fic and i hope this is okay!!! love you kiera <3

tw: hospitals, injury, sickness it's all fairly minor though there's nothing at all graphic but do be careful take care lovelies

-

Eva Sanchez, in all her eleven year old glory, was more than used to hospitals. Sometimes, old people (in her mind, anyone over the age of 27) would be "so awfully sad" over the weeks she'd spent in a ward. But, to Eva, it was kind of normal. It wasn't exactly fun, but it was her life and she was fine with it.

Tonight, she couldn't sleep.

Earlier, this kid probably about Eva's age had come in, all bruised circles under eyes and rude words towards the nurses. Eva had listened over the gentle chatter of her own grandmother as the dark-haired girl had spoken in a voice filled with hurt to a tall couple who must have been her parents. If she strained her ears over the buzzing of a children's ward, she could hear the angry whispers between the adults and child, before this sour-mouthed, lonely patient had been left alone overnight, refusing comfort from Eva's favourite nurses. Eva felt like she should have been repulsed by this outwardly spiteful girl, but instead she was only curious, sneaking glances at her between curtains as though her eyes were magnetised to theirs.

She was pretty.

Eva liked their eyes.

For once, the ward was quiet. Eva's mother slept in a tiny put-up bed beside hers and once again her drowsy but not yet sleepy mind was focused on the angry patient from earlier. She wondered if their parents had come back or if she was still alone across the room.

Maybe she was a little delirious, or still suffering the after effects of her earlier treatment, but Eva found herself desperately struggling out from bed, pulling a blanket down with her and shuffling as quietly as possible across the ward to the other girl's bed. It was naughty and against all the rules, but Eva knew that if she wanted to sleep tonight, she had to know that the kid was okay.

She slipped past the curtain, trying to be as quiet as possible. Obviously, that didn't work.

"Hello."

Eva jumped, spinning around to see as her target leant up in bed, a hand steadying her head. "Hi, sorry, I- I just wanted to check- I mean, I don't even know you, but- I thought-"

She stopped rambling, taking a breath before beginning again. "I'm Eva."

"Kate." The girl - Kate - raised her eyebrows. "Who are you?"

"I'm on the ward too. I saw you arrive." Eva's feet were getting cold.

"Oh. You were watching me," said Kate, filterless.

"Yeah, your parents seemed kinda mad," Eva replied, also filterless. "I came over 'cause I was a bit worried."

"I'm fine."

Eva's heart dropped. She'd expected to feel a little more wanted. With a sigh, she turned to go back to bed. "Oh. Okay, then. Bye."

She tiptoed away, just closing Kate's curtain again when - "Wait! Eva, no, come back!" Kate's voice was a hushed shout. Eva spun around, narrowing her eyes until they continued. "I didn't mean go."

"Oh." Eva paused at the curtain, narrowing her eyes. Her head span a little, maybe from illness, maybe from the sudden change in attitude from Kate. "Okay."

"Sorry."

"Are you okay?"

Kate only nodded.

Still leaning a little on the curtain, Eva decided to change the subject, "Why were your parents so mean?"

Kate shrugged. "They got mad because I got a concussion. Apparently, it's my fault that this girl at gymnastics made me jump so I slipped and bashed my head in." They rubbed their head where they'd hit it, wincing a little before shaking it off to continue. "My brother says our parents just suck anyway. And he should know 'cause he's sixteen."

Eva nodded sagely; sixteen was almost an adult. She thought that she would know everything there was to know when she was sixteen.

"Anyway," Kate continued speaking. Apparently she was chatty once you got her going. Eva liked this about them - it was nice to not have to be the one doing all the talking. "Why are you here?"

"I'm sick." Eva didn't expand on it, overtaken with tiredness suddenly. "I'm here a lot."

Kate squinted suspiciously at her. "Oh. Fair enough." The squinting increased, enough so Eva could see the wheels turning in their head. Eva almost turned and left to prevent the inevitable questioning. Shockingly, it didn't come. Instead, Kate got slowly out of bed, padding across the floor to put a hand at Eva's elbow. "You're shaking."

Eva's brain short-circuited over Kate's acceptance and lack of inquiry. She opened her mouth to protest, before closing it again and taking a breath. She was, in fact, shivering. "You know when you've been awake for so long that every time you yawn, you start shaking?" She waited for Kate to nod. "That's me right now."

Kate smiled, slipping their hand into hers. "Come on." Together, they slowly made their way over to Kate's bed, slipping under the covers.

Eva yawned, prompting another roll of shivers, subconsciously tightening her grasp on Kate's hand as she did so. Trying not to put too much pressure on her sore head, Kate tilted their head towards the other girl. "This is weird."

"Yeah." Happily content that her worries from earlier were unfounded, Eva really wanted to go to sleep now. She fought to keep her eyes open, grinning when Kate giggled.

"You're so tired!" Kate obviously wasn't.

"Mhm."

"Don't go to sleep yet. You can't come over here, wake me up, get in my bed, and then go straight to sleep." She could hear them pout. "That's unfair." Eva hummed a vague response. "I'm gonna be here for all of tomorrow according to the doctor and you're here all the time, so tell me something that'll make it better."

Eva blinked open one eye. "Okay. Sure." She thought for a while. "I have these tiger toys called Giles and Corey. My tía got them for me when I first got sick to remind me to eat and drink enough." Closing her eye again, she gestured in the direction of her bed. "The ginger one is Giles, he reminds me to drink water in case I forget. The other one, the black one, is Corey-" She was cut off by a yawn.

Kate grinned sleepily. "That's so cool. I think you're cool."

"Thanks." Eva shoved her face deeper into the pillow to hide her smile. "You're cool too."

"What does Corey do?" Despite their head injury and earlier angry demeanor, Kate was surprisingly animated over these two cuddly toys. "Oooh! Does he have superpowers??? Can they fly?"

Eva laughed, "No... Corey just reminds me to eat my meals."

"Wow." Eva's yawn caught up to Kate. "You gotta show me them tomorrow." She closed her eyes along with Eva, still holding her hand under the duvet. "My parents are gonna see that I can have a concussion and still be fabulous."

"Hell yeah, you can." Shivering still, Eva shuffled closer. "We're gonna be the most fabulous friends ever."

[husbandhoshi]

SMILING AND KICKING MY FEET RN ☹️☹️ you’re so sweet. sobbinf.

i had a lazy day today! a whole lazy weekend, if i’m being honest….. shhh — and that makes sense, your roomies kinda waking you up, but hopefully things will start to work themselves out and you’ll adjust! and i’ll definitely be in your inbox crying about how much i love it when your vernon f2l au comes out heheh

well… it’s mostly ancient history, mythology and theology, various religions, as well as a little(!) bit of linguistics! linguistics and ancient linguistics are things that i’d love to learn more about but i wouldn’t really know where to start if that makes sense?? the same thing goes for theoretical physics and astrophysics. but i don’t think i’d be able to go through with actually learning more about those and really understanding them because i Hate the math side of physics. but the scientific and philosophical sides?? oh hell yeah, got me Creamin if you start talking to me about how you never know what could happen if you got swallowed by a black hole [i cannot believe that is a sentence i just typed…] so i more like watching documentaries and stuff on youtube about those two rather than like… taking classes on it if that makes sense??? oh! and i know quite a bit about psychology ^^

another one of my main interests that i actually do know a lot about are sexology and kink! i’m not a part of any local kink community, but i do know a Lot about the online kink community [not fanfic, but like people who are big into kink in their local communities or kink education]!! i spent my early-mid teenage years teaching my friends different things that they were curious about when it comes to kink or sex or whatever and lowkey [but not really] became the unofficial sexologist of my friend group back in the day 😅😅 let’s just say i have more paraphilia memorized than i probably should… this is so unrelated to you but sometimes that’s why i can’t read certain fanfics or get confused with certain aspects of smut is because i’ll read something or hear someone talk about something and think “okay so apparently the smut community’s definition of [kink term] is drastically different than the definition created by the outside kink community which is kinda weird but okay” like i Cannot imagine some writers trying to have a conversation about kink with like a dungeon owner or something… which isn’t necessarily a bad thing and i’m definitely not trying to bash any writer or the smut community as a whole!!!! it’s just interesting to see the difference between the two sides of the culture(?) or communities i guess ^^

okay moving on because this ask is getting way too long… i talk too much oh em gee i’m so sorry i promise i didn’t mean for these to get so long — uhh movie genres! i’m not a huge romance or romcom person, but i do love horror and thriller, drama, suspense, comedies, light-hearted stuff, i can’t really think of what to say but i trust you!!! i’m sure i’ll like anything you recommend :D as for cooking and baking, they both will always stress me out to an extent but i do like both! i can’t say i like one more than the other, though :0 and i definitely love takeout every once in a while too, but shhh

sounds like i’ll be checking in, then! my asks aren’t usually this long but things got a little out of hand as you can see… i ramble too much. oopsies. i love love love talkin to you!! you’re such a sweetheart and thank you so much for letting me flood your inbox! mwah <3 - angel anon

a lazy weekend sounds great! honestly, we should all have more lazy weekends, we all deserve them! and thank u for the fic love <3

and SHUSH that's a lot of topics that all sound sooooo cool. i personally don't know a whole lot about ancient history but i think it's so interesting! i'm a big museum whore so i bet you probably know a lot about everything there! and YES, i only know a little bit about astrophysics and theoretical physics, but it's always been such a fascinating topic to me because of how sexy and smart it sounds?? and one of my roomies is a psych major it all sounds so cool! please share some of your favorite facts about these!!! i would love to learn a little bit about them!

as for learning abt the online kink community, that definitely sounds like a unique experience & with how Bad sex ed is, honestly, good for you! and i don't think you're bashing the smut community by being honest if ppl are kind of missing the mark. i think it's completely valid & i feel like on here a lot of ppl say stuff that isn't very true anyway.

movies--you're in luck because i'm a huge horror/thriller fan! my all time favorite horror movie is black swan which is gay and scary (but if a little bit of body horror makes you uncomfy, please skip!). a more tame version is perfect blue, which is an animated film & also very good! as for other dramatic/suspenseful movies that really roped me in, i would say if you want something that draws on your interest in linguistics, i think arrival is perfect--it's a little scary, but it's mostly a suspense/drama that is a really exciting and thought-provoking movie. also the two main characters are a linguist and a physicist and that sounds exactly up your alley! and ok fair about cooking and baking both being stressful bc i have definitely had breakdowns doing both LMAO

and please don't apologize for talking too much! i love hearing what you have to say and you shouldn't have to feel like you're rambling :) i love talking to you too & i hope you have a good night :)

[bigskydreaming]

Continuing on that observation because I forgot to add this part, as a gen z I'm glad you understand that we or young people don't invent new ways to be evil, but it's not completely true. You aren't seeing new forms of online abuse in every platform, I doubt second hand information is going into details as well. Also the fact that you are a white man, there are things being said and done to poc in various online communities that I don't expect you to be privy to. Harassing fans of color and poc media has become a lot more common and normalized which parts of the fandom at large will never see. I don't know if anon did all of the thinking before saying "gen z bad" but they're not completely wrong looking at the kind of mass bullying behavior literal kids are exhibiting. They are learning from or being encouraged by older people but that shouldn't take the focus away from them to blame only the older people.

And my ask regarding Barbara, you assumed I hadn't thought about if my disdain for the character could have come from ableism. I had tho, granted you couldn't have known that and it was surely a possibility, so I'm not saying I'm mad about it, I was at that time a little bit. But you could perhaps give your anons a little more credit sometimes. Sometimes people know what they're talking about, you don't need to explain other possibilities to them each time.

Once again, sorry if this came off as very rude I just needed to share that observation and among many other instances these two were really highlights and kept bothering me. My issue with Barbara goes in a different direction than anything to do with her appearance and I've personally faced online abuse from people younger than me in ways that technologically, even politically, wasn't possible or as easy a few years ago, so you can maybe see why...

Please keep in mind that whatever context you have for yourself or your ask when you come into my inbox on anon......I have none of that. You have an awareness of yourself relative to whatever you asked me. I literally only know an anon by the words they put into my inbox and nothing else.

Also please keep in mind that every anon I answer, I do so in the larger context of my own interactions with tumblr overall. I have a lot of precedent with things I say being taken out of context, misrepresented or even just me not conveying myself as well as I like.

So the combination of those two things is that a) I literally just don't KNOW what any anon does or doesn't know and b) If I'm going to answer an anon, I tend to want to answer as fully and clearly as possible.

I can understand it coming across as being talked down to, so I'll work on that, but I would ask people to remember the above and keep that in context too when weighing my responses.....am I actually being condescending in every case, or does it simply feel that way because I'm including stuff you already know in my response? And if its the latter, is THAT something I COULD know about you without knowing who you are or you as a person and not just a paragraph sent in anonymously?

I'd rather be safe than sorry, and so from my POV since there's no harm in somebody seeing someone cover information they already know as PART of their overall answer or response, like, there's no reason for me not to include whatever I think is relevant and just expect readers to decide for themselves what about my response, if anything, is helpful, and like....just ignore the rest, y'know?

Also, just for the record, I am ADHD and I save my medication for when I'm working or writing or have stuff I absolutely need to get done, which doesn't include my usual blogging. So I'm usually posting while not on my ADHD meds at all, hence the rambling tendencies and the length. Another aspect of ADHD that doesn't get talked about much ime is we tend to over-explain, part out of just excitement/interest in whatever it is that has our attention, and also in part because we're used to people not necessarily following the leaps our minds take when jumping around rather than proceeding in an orderly thought pattern.....so, part of why I break things down so incrementally is I literally just don't know where my way of looking at things diverges from the way neurotypical thinking views things, so I want to draw as detailed a map as possible in order to ensure the most people possible can follow my thought process, just in case.

(And again see, this is something you might already know, and hell, you could have ADHD yourself, I just literally have no way of knowing that so rather than just mention it and be like "oh and also I have ADHD and so that's something to keep in mind" I'd rather explain WHY I feel that's particularly relevant to your question, since I'm kinda like, why not answer as fully as I have the spoons for? People can stop reading at any time if I go on too long. Its fine).

As for the specific asks you're referencing - my response to the gen z anon was not meant to convey that the sort of things you're describing don't occur among gen z, so sorry for giving that impression. Its actually the opposite of my point, which was simply that I don't think its a generational thing, or that anything is gained by treating it as a generational thing. This kind of behavior exists in gen z, yes, but it also existed before gen z. Its not gen z SPECIFIC, or limited to just that generation. That's all.

And the other ask, the one you made about Barbara - to be honest, I don't have anyway of knowing for sure which one you meant, and there are a couple it could have been, but if its the one I THINK you're referencing, I believe you asked how to stop people from assuming you dislike Barbara for reasons rooted in ableism when its because of other things? If that's the one, then I mean, the thing is....I DID answer your question, in as much as anyone could. I addressed the perceptions other people might have of your stance there, but basically - there IS no way to ever ensure people take you at your word or any kind of guarantee you can present your POV in a way that won't be misrepresented or misunderstood. So ultimately, I just had no real useful advice for that?

And so I expanded into the only thing I think anyone CAN control, aka their own thoughts and words, and suggested that you just double check to be sure of your own possible biases that others might read into your words without you being aware you were putting them in there. That wasn't meant as an insult or to suggest you hadn't already examined yourself for possible ableism - it was simply saying it never hurts to check again, y'know? We don't always catch everything every time we do a self-review, and internal biases are inherently tricky to pick up on ourselves. And it just loops back into the fact that I really had no way to know what you had and hadn't already considered, you're essentially a blank cipher to me....and in my experience, a lot of people are a lot more ableist than they realize.

And this isn't an insult either! It applies to me and I'M physically disabled! I'm constantly to this day unpacking new realizations about how I still have more ableist views and opinions than even I realize, even after about five years of living with chronic pain, vertigo, nerve issues and associated problems stemming from only half a working mouth lol. I'm not trying to insult people by asking them to just do what I do every day and just like....make sure I'm not the problem when other people have a problem with me. Because sometimes, even after reflecting as fully and genuinely as I can, I think they're still wrong! I don't have to agree with their conclusions! But that doesn't mean that they're never right.

And for the record, I do think its still worth examining on your end, because I don't love that you said your issues with Barbara have nothing to do with her appearance, when we're talking about ableism specifically. It very well could be just a poor word choice on your part and not a reflection of your actual views, but it could also be a suggestion that you tend to think of physical disability as something that's limited to there being a visual sign of, and there's a lot of invisible symptoms and changes to the ways a disabled person interacts with society and society with them that don't alter a disabled person's appearance in anyway...and many of these things are the exact stuff a lot of unacknowledged ableism revolves around.

So I'd like to give you and other anons more credit and the benefit of the doubt and assume you know what you're talking about and don't need things broken down as much as I tend to break them down to - but keep in mind I don't OWE you that, and its a lot to ask someone to take you on faith when you've already made the conscious choice to present yourself to them anonymously, and deliberately limit how much a person even CAN know about you before answering, when you have an equal opportunity to present yourself by name, allowing someone the full context afforded by your blog, that they can use to familiarize themselves with you and what you likely do or don't know before answering. I don't think its entirely reasonable to anonymize YOURSELF and then expect people to still give you the benefit of the doubt.

Especially when not giving you the benefit of the doubt only really results in me over-explaining something you don't think you need explained in certain ways or in as much depth. Its not hurting anyone, and you're not going to be the only one reading this response and maybe that over-explanation ISN'T something other people know and it could still be of use to someone else, y'know?

But lastly, please keep in mind that you came to me, and I just answered in the way that made the most sense to me. If that didn't work for you or wasn't what you're looking for, that's fine, but like. You knew way more about me going into this interaction than I could possibly know about you, and assuming good faith of you and your interest in my response and giving you as much of a response as I did in the first place, let alone now, IS giving you the benefit of the doubt in the sense that I'm assuming you can find some way in which these responses are of use to you.

And if not, like....just don't send me more asks? LOL. I kinda feel like you just didn't expect the answer you got, and that's sitting weirdly with you. Which I get, to be honest, but I don't particularly think that's a me problem, because that has nothing to do with anything I can control.

I can only give the answer that occurs to me when I read and think about an ask. I can't guarantee it'll ever be the answer the asker actually WANTS.

[irwinkitten]

do we get soft little princess content any time soon?? i'm missing dad!ash and his little princess

this has been sat in my inbox for like, weeks. i’m so sorry i’m this disaster who cant keep up with thingshowever for the first time in well over a year, i finally got that little princess update because i re-read it and i’m soft for my babies. warnings: sugary sweet fluffword count: 1.2kish. it’s a small one lmao 

masterlist for the little princess series

masterlist for all my writing

part twenty three

-

Landing back in LA felt like chaos personified, especially after the extended honeymoon the two of you had, but neither of you realised it was what you needed.

-

Lay next to Ashton, his body practically glowing in that post sex haze you were both in, you found yourself thanking whatever deity put him in your life.

“Baby?” Ashton’s eyes were watching you, his body shifting and you matched his movement, lay facing him. His arms pulled you closer, a kiss to your neck, leaving you with a soft smile as you hummed in appreciation.

“Just thinking.” 

“What about?” His eyes were curious now and you hesitated. But it felt right, at least, to talk. But not with your husband-god you still couldn’t believe that-looking so delicious lay next to you.

So you shifted your leg over his hip, pushing yourself to straddle him, a strangled moan escaping his lips as you rolled your hips against his, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips.

“In the morning. I think another round is in order.” 

The following morning had you both showered and in light clothes. You’d cooked breakfast and finally decided it was time to talk.

“You ready to hear what I was thinking about last night? Other than having you in every way possible?” The tease brought a blush to his cheeks with a smirk before he nodded.

“Honestly, part of my mind was stuck on the baby we lost. How difficult it had been for all of us. You especially.”

He frowned but didn’t interrupt as he held his arms open to you, and you took the silent invitation, settling in his lap as his arms wrapped around you tightly.

“What brought this on baby?” 

“I didn’t realise how sad we were till I saw your smile when I met you at the altar. The smile you had when our little girl realised that her daddy loved her just as much as she loves him and that you wanted her too. And last night, god it felt like when we were first dating all over again.” The giggle that escaped you as his lips found your neck, trying to pull your skin from his reach.

“All mine.” He muttered, making you laugh.

“Alright caveman. But everything we went through, I couldn’t see how sad you were, and I’m sorry. It was your baby too and my only reaction was like I was the only one suffering.” Ashton shook his head almost immediately.

“You had to feel every moment of that. I wasn’t expecting you to get over it, love. But we’ve got time on our side.” His voice was reassuring and soft and you couldn’t stop the smile from overtaking your lips.

“How about we spend longer out here? I’d feel bad asking your mum to keep our little girl for a month-” 

“It’s our honeymoon. We’ve got a village to help raise her and I think we needed to get away from everyone to really accept the recovery from losing the baby. I don’t think anyone is going to begrudge us this time together. I’ll talk to Luke and see if he can take our little miss for the last couple of weeks, that way it’s not all on my mum. And she’ll already be home when we get back.” 

“Sounds like a plan. Now Mister Irwin, there is a private pool with a view to die for and you’re wearing far too many clothes.” The coy smile you gave him as you made your way off his lap, had him smirking in return.

“I could say the same about you, Mrs Irwin.” You laughed as you shed your own clothes, stepping out to the secluded area as you heard Ashton’s footsteps join you.

-

The chaos that surrounded LA made you groan as the two of you collected your luggage, both of you having gained some colour to your skin in the Hawaiian heat.

“Is Luke meeting us home or here?” You questioned as Ashton checked his phone.

“Home. He doesn’t want to bring her out into the chaos we’re going to cause with the paps.” You snorted at that before you made your way to the pick up point. 

“Are we waiting for an Uber or-?”

“Taxi service for the Irwin’s.” Your head snapped around from Ashton to the source of the voice, grinning when you found Calum stood next to his car.

“Cal!” He laughed as he greeted you with a warm hug, giving the same treatment to Ashton before helping you both get your bags into the car.

“A little princess of yours wanted to hold a welcome home party. We kept the guest list to bare minimum because apparently she only wanted her favourite Uncles to be there as well as Shay. However, Shay is currently away for the weekend with Marc and so you get to deal with all of us.” You couldn’t resist giving Calum a deadpan look, waiting patiently before he laughed.

“It is just the three of us there and she did want to have a party for you both, but she then realised that it meant sharing you both and she’s missed you both too much to share at the moment.” Calum’s second explanation made your heart ache.

It’d been the longest you’d ever been away from her. Ashton had to stop you from facetiming her daily because he knew it would drive you insane. But it also gave him a chance to stop acting on his own urges to facetime daily to check in and see her. 

“I’ve loved this time away, but I genuinely don’t think I could leave her for that long again.” You shared a grin with Ashton once you were both in the car and Calum was pulling away from the airport.

“We fully don’t expect to see either of you at all this week because she will monopolise your time and we may or may not have been encouraging it. She’s really missed you guys.”

The rest of the car journey was filled with details of the flight, and the check in attendants amusement at how you didn’t even flinch at her saying that you both needed to pay the extra luggage fee. It was worth it in your eyes and it meant that your little girl got spoiled too.

When you got home, you’d managed to get the suitcases by the stairs before an excited scream came from the garden.

And then she was in your arms, the collision of her body into yours sending you stumbling back a little bit as she held onto you tightly.

“Nice to see that her old dad doesn’t even get the scream of delight.” Ashton teased, and it took her a second before she pulled away and wrapped herself around Ashton, not even caring at how he still picked her up despite the fact that she was getting bigger.

“Missed you too princess.” He murmured softly and your arms wrapped around both of them. 

Despite the honeymoon, she was what you’d missed the most.

It took the three of you a moment to finally pull away. You were unwilling to let go of her, but you finally moved and headed out to the back, grateful for Calum to give the three of you that moment in privacy. 

Ashton followed and your little girl hung onto him which made the other three laugh.

“Pay up. I know my niece well.” Luke crowed in amusement and you laughed as both Calum and Michael handed him some notes.

“C’mon little bird, you let me down!” Michael whined, but she merely stuck her tongue out as she rearranged herself when Ashton sat down, keeping herself firmly in his lap, but her hand had reached out for you.

You smiled as you took the spot next to Ashton, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Your mommy’s missed you baby. I know you told us everything you did with your nana and uncle lu, but fancy telling your dad and I properly now? I want to hear everything you did on the zoo trip.” 

“But you went on a bigger holiday!” She protested, a pout on her lips.

“Yeah mom and dad. You went on a bigger holiday so you’ve gotta tell us all about it.” Michael teased, wiggling his eyebrows at you both.

You shot him a dirty look which earned a round of laughter from the boys and you sighed as your daughter stared at you in confusion.

“Your uncle Mikey is being silly, princess. So what do you want to know about our trip? Because your daddy and I did so much, and we’re definitely going to take you back so you get to experience some of the stuff we did!” 

This seemed to be the right thing to say as her stern glare that had been directed at Michael shifted to a look of pure excitement and joy.

“Really? Oh please, what did you do that we’re gonna do?” 

Ashton grinned as he launched into the first story of many, the sun sinking into the ground slowly as she listened with rapt attention, the look of awe never once leaving her face.

It felt good to be home again.

[warningimmental]

You made your choice. It's not to be a mother so....... Congratulations you're free!!!. Your Wish came true.

Yes this is public so people can see.#TRUTH

***See below as im not repeating again and again.***

My side of life.

P.s

Yeah I'll be fine. I always am in the end.

( Heres what needs to be said and has been said so not to repeat myself. From in PMs )

Sad thing is she knows ill forgive her just like I forgave dad and EVERYONE and EVERYTHING else. I care so no one else has to. I'm the one who picked up the pieces of everything but was tormented daily. She wonders why I was the way I was it was due to parenting and fobbing me off to anyone who would take me.

Anne and Bob should of kept me. They couldn't have kids they could of had me though. (neighbours I adopted as grandparents no blood but love ) My father was a shit most of my life my mother was everyones mother bar mine. They kept me quite with gadgets and as long as I went to school fed and watered job done.

Favourite quote was "it's your fault" and dads was "your making me ill"

Christ for someone who knows everyone elses business she never saw what was happening to her own daughter.

29 years im done. Sick of being a leighton.

I said Stockholm syndrome I loved my captives just happened to be the people I called mum and dad....

I still love them both but what I was "known as normal" was not remotely normal.

Eg. I was appendicitis and born 8 months in mum had no clue and I was "hiding" behind her ribs. It's medically impossible.

Not to mention lived in New York every other year from age of 6 months till I was 13. Dad would take me over and over and over mum came ONCE for my 13th.

I have no memories of New York. It's kind of a huge thing and place to have been wiped out of a memory.

Now im clear-minded im having pseudoseizures because my subconscious doesn't want me to remember what happened.

What mother would let a new born or toddler a child that can't speak fly to the other side of the world to only be with men. My dad and my fucked up uncle who sends stuff to "favourite" niece

I've tried so hard to get better and it's not even my family who acknowledged it.

There's so much you don't know.

She used to have me go in the house before her in case dad had killed himself so id find him first from the ages of 7 onwards. When dad past I went behind the curtain first. So I kept the is see him first. On 29th April 2018

I was always on eggshells she would say people die of lack of breath so EVERY NIGHT id check on mum and dad every hour. She would hold her breath to screw with me. Then say im not dead go to bed.

The house was toxic. For once in my life im actually sane.

She is not who you think she is.

If I've lost my mind it's because my environment sucked. I'm finally out. Sober can think clear and don't harm because I don't have to deal with the toxicity that I dealt with ALL my life.

If I told you everything you wouldn't believe me. Which is fine know one does because but it's true.

Always ask why or what causes someone to go off the rails and self destruct. I never felt safe, I was always told I was a mistake and everything was my fault. As long as I kept the family secrets mum was happy.

Dad was toxic. Mum the same. She wants drama so I finally said enough.

When I say mum knows everything I mean she saw it all and NEVER had it stop or put me safe. I can finally talk now dad is gone. I could write every TRUTH down and write a book. People would wonder how the hell did this girl cope and live to tell. I lived because I care about everything and everyone else. But im done now.

I doubt you'd believe me if im honest. My inbox is full of people defending her and my dad. If only they knew. its been a long time coming but im finally speaking out.

I know people don't understand but I don't want to burden with it. If You like my mum and dad id rather I let you keep the illusion. I know it's out there now that's enough.

If you want to see my life keep reading otherwise STOP HERE.

I'm fine and im safe finally. I just needed more as a child than fear of what should of been my safe place a home.

I don't want us to be strangers to the people who read this and thin sarahs lost it.

I don't want to cause a riff, I just couldn't not say it finally. Mum says always go to counselling but I couldn't. I couldn't tell anyone the truth about dad or mum. Or the truth on why I had to have a very intrusive operation due to assault by 3 at Halloween party. Mum now knows that. Dad was arrested for hitting the wrong lad. Dad and mum would have gone down for murder if I spoke out.

On the other hand there was also my home life in general. I was made to stay quiet about having a revolving door of strangers. Huge boozy parties after a night out. Mum and me being treat like muck on a shoe.

A abusive uncle who would have me and my cusion be "kissing cusions" .Every night when I was 15 to 26 I drank took sleeping pills and hid away in my room self destructive harm anything so not to deal.

I look like wolferrines attacked me because of the arguments or threats. Mum couldnt leave the house quick enough. I gave up on a career to care for my dad but I was always looked down on.

****** golden girl. left was I was guilt tripped saying "your still dads girl you won't leave me" while dad would cry. Every night.

Mum swears I was an appendicitis 8 months in term. I'd be handed to anyone and everyone. Every year or every other from birth id end up in america. Mum would say her holidays where when me and dad would leave. From 6 months old id always go back and forth to New York. I couldnt talk yet "apparently" begged to go with dad.

Mum would say after blazing rows im leaving.

Then just walk out the door. I was left with a highly angry father and confused were mum had gone and if she would come back for me. I'd stay up all night waiting. I'd hide crying and scream in a pillow so not to be to loud so dad didn't shout.

I was told my face doesn't fit. My nick name was ferret face or panda. I would hurt my self so not to hurt others. I wanted and trained to be a counsellor so one to understand what I did wrong and two and most importantly to be there for the people who needed support.

I went to rehab to be identified when found so my parents wouldn't have to. If it wasn't for craig I doubt if be here.

Craig saved my life. Mum has always put others before me or ignored it so it didn't exist.

Important in here (ears) none important (over your head)

I was terrified everyday of my life. I loved and do love my parents it's just I can't stay quite any longer.

Money or game consoles chocolate sweets where hush money. Dad would buy crates of spirits and beer and supple my / his pills so I was always foggy minded.

I'm finally sober clean and harm free my mind is the most composed it ever been.

No one knows what goes on behind closed doors.

Mum is a star and has a heart of gold to others but from age 7 onwards everyone else came first.

I pride my self on protecting, comforting trying to be there and support everyone, hell even risked my life enough times to save some. because I never had it. No one to fight for me protect me.

I wanted parents love encouragement happy I archived or even tried. But it never came.

Even my graduation was ruined.

I wasn't allowed to get a job they made me be sick and have PTSD mum still to this day loves to make me jump. I have terrifying nightmares.

I'd hear conversations no child should hear because they either didn't notice I was there or care. When ***** killed him self when *** did when dad tried and I was left with a random man being told "your dads took to many sweets"

The same man who later tried it on with me sending dirty pictures or dads other "mates" who would try there luck. I gained a shit ton of weight 21 stone so NO guy would come near me because the strangers who would come to the house used to try and feel me up or perv if door was unlocked as I was a kid.

She saw everything but wouldn't believe it. Or me. I phone our ***** one night years ago because she said I could and she yelled at me because she had work. I was silently screaming for help.

It was only at dads funeral she saw and realised and was so genuinely sorry for not believing me the night I phoned.

I wish every single thing I've said and keep telling was a lie but it's not it's 25/26 years of fear.

I'm 29 now. For the first time in my life im not on eggshells. I have a safe home. I can lock the door and not fear.

I wish these were lies I swear!!!!! I do but there not.

Yet NO ONE will even consider it's the TRUTH.

[underthemoon-and-stars]

Are you willing to write a Stucky with a child that has Cystic Fibrosis? If so, can it be a domestic fluff? Like Bucky finds the kid and they remind him of Pre-serum Steve so he and Bucky take them in. Thank you if you can. (I'm sorry just want to see a CF character in a fandom I love)

Hi dear!! I was very nervous to write this as I wasn't very aware of the symptoms of CF. I went on a lot of medical sites and I think I have the information right? If not I am so so sorry and I will redo it!! Also I'm going to make their child a daughter but feel free to switch up the pronouns!  -Selenophile

Cystic fibrosis is a genetic condition, which means that it is something you are born with. Cystic fibrosis is known to cause your lungs to produce extra-thick, sticky mucus. This mucus builds up and clogs your airways. Side effects include persistent cough with phlegm, postnasal drip, wheezing, shortness of breath, inability to exercise, as well as poor growth and low body weight despite a good appetite.

Y/N reads the doctors note every day. When she was younger, she didn't understand one word of it. At two years of age she would hand over the card to the family that had high hopes of adopting a little girl. They would usually leave without her. Her housemother, Mrs. Hamilton, always played it off as a different type of superhero form the comic books. Not a lot of adults want superhero babies. It was so easy to believe that. Now she’s 18. She getting released into the real world Luckily, her friend offered her house just till she can find a college to stay at.  Y/N had to learn the hard way that adults don't want a sick kid.

“Hey kiddo” Mrs. Hamilton said, her tone soft like silk.  “You read that dumb note everyday. It means nothing.”

“It apparently does. No adult wanted me in my 18 years of being here.” Y/N retaliated. 

“Don't think about that. They didn't deserve you anyway.” 

Y/N sighed and picked up her tote bags. “I’ll miss your kindness, Mrs. Hamilton.”

“You have my number if you need me.” 

“I know”

They shared a long tender hug. Y/N pulled away once she felt a little tickle in her throat. The tickle sadly turned into a whole fit. 

“Hey, if you ever need me to pay for your Bronchodilators, please text me. I don't mind.”

“Of course Mrs. Hamilton. Ill see you around.”

And with that, Y/N made her way down the stairs. This place, so familiar, was now going to be apart of her past. She remembers running all around with her “brothers”. Patiently eating dinner with her “sisters” was the best. Even exploring the world with their gender-fluid and non-binary siblings was so exciting. Mrs. Hamilton and her always had the best talks. Mr. Hamilton helped with her homework. So, so many memories from this place. She’ll miss it.

The outside world was so much different now that Y/N was out on her own. She took her meds this morning, so that once gross, pollen-infested air didn't even bother her anymore. Her brave feet carried her away from the place she used to call home. The first order of business before heading to her house of 2 months though, get some lunch. Wendy’s has a pretty amazing salad and it was only 2 blocks down. Lucky for her, 2 blocks was her walking limit. Off she went.

That's where Bucky and Steve were enjoying a lovely lunch as well. Steve had a hamburger, and Bucky had some chicken nuggets.

“Alright dear” Steve said “Check Wendy's off your list”

“Already did. I think its pretty good! Not my favorite though.” Bucky replied happily. 

The newly-founded couple have been going to one fast food place a week to introduce Bucky to different types. Any fast food restaurant one could think of, they're going. It was a mix of a date and bringing Bucky up to modern times. It was good for them.

“Bucky, all you get is chicken nuggets you should branch out.” 

“Leave me aloneeee I love my chicken nuggets”

They giggled together, and returned to eating. That's when Y/N walked through the door. She was already panting. Not even realizing, she passed the two men who would change her life. 

Y/N stood patiently, waiting to order. Bucky watched her. Her small, skinny stature reminded him so much of young Steve. Even the way she panted after walking in. Steve would do the same.

“Who are you looking at my love?” Steve questioned.

“Oh, the girl on line. She reminds me so much of you. Skinny, Small, I heard her panting. Look she's coughing now too. What was it called?”

Steve turns around and smiles “Bucky she's cute but what's your point?”

Bucky jumped up “I'm gonna talk to her!”

“That's cute love but please come back id like to enjoy our date before our next mission”

The long-haired man nodded, skipping happily over to Y/N. Just as he was approaching though, an older man came behind her and snatched her wallet. Bucky was ready to pounce, but Y/N was first to it. She was so weak, so she flung right off with a simple push of the man.

“Hey doll, you alright?” He asked softly. 

She nodded weakly, already shaking. Steve rushed out the door to follow the man.

“That's my boyfriend, he’ll get your wallet. Why don't you sit with us? I’ll get your lunch! What would you like?”

Y/N looked up at him. “I-I” she took a minute to wheeze out a cough “T-that's too kind of y-you.”

“Please its my pleasure! what would you like?”

Y/N tells him a simple Caesar Salad. He happily picks her up, along with her stuff. Bucky told her where she was sitting, and she made her way.

This is so weird. Y/N thinks to herself. She takes a seat regardless through, watching the tall blonde walk towards the shorter brunette. She sees her wallet and feels at ease. 

“She’s either a runaway or an orphan whos turned 18. We need to take her in” Bucky whispered into his ear. 

“Or she's just heading off to college? I cant put a girl a risk” Steve whispered back. 

“Please Steve. She reminds me so much of you. She cant survive out here one her medication runs out. And to be honest? She seems like she has a low dosage the way she's still wheezing and coughing like that.”

“One day James. If she changes my mind in one day, we can keep her”

Bucky happily kissed Steve's cheek. He carefully grabbed the salad and took it to the girl. 

They ate together rather happily. The couple learned her name was Y/N. She’s and 18 year old girl who just came out of the system, just like Bucky hypothesized. To sum up her condition , she showed them the note - which was only kept for nostalgic purposes - which made Steve feel connected to her more. 

“So no one adopted you because you have Cystic Fibrosis?” Bucky asked

“No one wants a sick kid”

Steve sympathized. “I used to have CF too. Once I got the super solider serum I never had to deal with it again. I understand where you come from though. Being constantly underweight and small, also no matter how hard you try you cant become better at exercise. I get it.”

Bucky took Steve’s hand and kissed his cheek. Y/N smiled, continuing to eat her salad. She didn't even question the fact that he was Captain America, she understands how it feels to be bombarded with questions. 

They managed to convince Y/N to stay for the night. She fought them on it, telling them they were being way too nice for a girl who was about to ruin their night. Bucky continued to tell her to shush it, while Steve was having a change of heart.

It was a good night. They watched TV together, enjoyed a lovely home cooked dinner, talked some more about each other and even played some old timey board games. Y/N had the time of her life. No way on Earth would she do this with any other adult who offered her help. Since Steve had a similar experience and Bucky helping him through said experience, it gave Y?N the confidence to take the offer. She never regretted it

That one day became one week. That one week became one month. The one month became a year. Steve and Bucky were there every step of the way. Convincing to ask the little web slinger Peter Parker out to prom, taking said prom pictures, helping Y/N with homework, taking her on cool adventures. The day of her high school  graduation they gave her the gift of a car. She gave them the official title of Dad. When the papers for official guardianship were clear, it was the happiest day of the trio’s life. 

Now, its the night before Y/N goes to college. Her bags were packed. Her small, cozy bedroom looked so vacant now. Her dads were cuddled up on the couch.

“Got any room for a jellybean?” She asked softly. 

“Yes we do! Always!” Bucky cheered happily,splitting apart from Steve. The small girl jumped in, which was a big mistake since she was already taking deeper breaths. 

“Did your school accommodate for your CF?” Steve asked, giving her a big fat kiss on her cheek.

With a giggle, she replied “Yeah dad, They put me in the closest dorm to the classroom. They also put me on the lower floor on the dorm building. AND Peter said he was gonna help me out.”

“You and Peter are too cute, I'm happy he takes interest in you”

“Thanks Dad 2″

Y/N leaned right into her dad 2 where she was scooped under the chilly metal. Steve got up, moving to the fleshier side of his husband. Yes, in the year Y/N lived with them, they finally got themselves together and got married. Y/N was Bucky’s maid of honor, and she joined in on the couples first dance. 

They watched the stupid soap opera that was on late at night. all three of them couldn't even keep up with what was happening.

“Dads, I love you” Y/N blurted out. 

“Woah kid, you better catch your breath, because we love you too.” Bucky responded as Steve reached over, playing with the girls hair. Her happy giggled gave Steve and Bucky the message: they changed this girls world.

Send all requests to the Inbox!!💌

[va-faen-culo]

RANT PT 1:Tbh nothing will ever top the OG for me but I love each remakes' take on diff teen culture. BUT. Noorh*lm remakes will top anything the OG has ever done. No idea why Noorhe*lm stans relate to our dislike to our love for Evak. Uh... Idk maybe because out of all the main relationships in show, Evak was the second most relatable and healthy (after Yousana)? And I'm saying that as straight person, not a fucking fangirl. Lemme tell you why...

(I’m gonna y’all know now this is going to be long, but anon is spilling some hot ass tea and every part is worth reading)

RANT PT 2: Evak is liked because the nature of their situation was believable and something any relationship could go through. Mental illness and its stigmas? I’ve dealt w/ that, even had my own prejudices like Isak due to my own experiences of witnessing it. Eva’s insecurity and mistrust? I never cheated but I know exactly shitty breaking a friendship makes you feel. Sana’s identity crisis through religion and her defensive mechanism? Spot on..

“ I’m saying that as straight person, not a fucking fangirl“ I really love that you brought this up, because there is definitely a problem in this fandom with invalidating the opinions of anyone who is not queer. The story of Even and Isak was able to touch many people and so many ways and the way it was portrayed was incredibly realistic, along with the storylines of seasons 1 and 4. Disliking Noorhelm is not a problem of “uwu where are my gays” it is a problem of “so we’re just not going to address how toxic this is”

RANT PT 3: Most teenagers will go through some sort of self-questioning and priority check. I was raised with two cultures growing up; my ethnic and the dominant one. Growing up around a culture since childhood but not really fitting in, be it by race or religion or sexuality. Now, to Noorh*lm. What exactly did I learn? That asking someone out until they agree is… cute? That changing the cold and cool person isn’t actually emotionally taxing or damaging and that you should go for it? Fuck that 

!!! I have also experienced conflicts with my race/culture and the society i live in, and that feeling of not fitting in really struck close to home with season 4. (and parts of season 3 and 1) Noora’s story reinforced shitty tropes, such as “persistence always perseveres” and “changing people is easy with the power of love” and i think “fuck that” is a pretty solid reaction to seeing Julie glorify these toxic tropes

RANT PT 4: Is getting with the rich popular guy actually universal? Y'know that relatable moment when you’re at his party but end up sleeping at his place and strumming the guitar while he makes cocoa for you? No? Thought everyone went through that?? I learned nothing from that season and their relationship in the rest that came after it. No, I won’t even tolerate what happened to Noora and Niko. I’ll appreciate Josefina’s amazing portrayal of what trauma looks like but the conclusion made me cry

Are you telling me you haven’t experienced all these things??  (Also I will admit I bawled like a baby watching Josefinas portrayal of that situation but it wasn’t enough to save the season) 

RANT PT 5: I admire Julie Andem but I honestly thought that parts of it came from a personal place had made her cloudy in the ending. I cannot and will never believe that Noora fully recovered after that mishap or able to fully accept any intimate advances without showing any signs of trauma. It doesn’t matter if it was true or not, she still woke up exposed next to him and he saw and captured it and threatened her. And she was fine the moment Mari, who was also drunk, SAYS nothing happened??

I do not know much about trauma so I am glad someone else was thrown off by her lack of hesitance in entering an intimate relationship so quickly after such an intense event

RANT PT 6: Finally, the ending. No better way to conclude the static and unlikeable nature of this couple than to end it with William jokingly driving away from Noora, leaving her to be devastated once again, only to say it was jokes. Holy shit?? This couple sounds batshit toxic.They don’t communicate for half a year, William gets another girl and Noora is still hopeful. Then its resolved by… leaving her friends worried and ditching responsibilities?

THAT SHIT WAS FUCKING WHACK FFJSFDJSJNSJ. I was so glad when he left and then he had the audacity to come back, and then Noora comes back after a year of him neglecting her and it was like ‘hallelujah she’s come to her senses!’ and then HOMEBOY COMES BACK and she goes running back into his arms like it nothing. I want to bang my head into a wall just thinking off it.

RANT PT 7: I guess someone that’s been in a toxic relationship could relate? But what was the point of this couple? Joneva was important because slut-shaming and unhealthy women dynamics was/is still a thing to talk about. Evak was important because bury your gay trope and stereotyping gay people was/is still a thing. Yousana was/is important for teens dealing with religious discrimination and how it affects your relationships and your behaviour. These were all commentaries but still hit home.

I think my biggest problem was that Julie never addressed that their relationship was toxic. Season 2 could have delivered such an important message about how unhealthy that type of relationship is, but instead she makes it seem like they are some sort of match made in heaven. So much potential man…

RANT PT 8: Noorh*lm was not a commentary, because it was definitely a toxic relationship that had a happy ending anyways. I honestly love Skam but season 2 is hellish for me to go through, knowing what they’re like throughout all the season. I don’t mind the characters, but I want the remakes to surpass the OG with this one. Show us a realistic and likable straight couple to prove you don’t have to be toxic no matter how good-looking the couple may look. I’m sorry for bombarding you. Thank you.

Preach!! I’m really crossing my fingers for the remakes to learn from Julie’s mistakes!

Honestly anon you have really made my entire week. I completely agree with all the points you have made and I am so glad you felt comfortable unloading in my inbox! You’re officially the queen of season 2 call-outs, and I’d love to talk to you off anon and also to hear your thoughts in the future as more versions of season 2 come out! Have a wonderful day, and I hope getting this off your chest was as rewarding for you as it was for me