#I've gone off on a bit of a tangent

[jessieren]

I was trying to rack my brains for what to post for Thursday Thursday and then this beauty appeared on my dash

Thank you @magnificentgardenerdinosaur

notmoreflippingelves requested: favorite familial relationship in endeavour - the thursdays (+ their adopted son morse)

- there’s one rule in this house… - where do we leave work? - on the hall stand, by the front door.

[infiniteseriesofhalfways]

there's something very satisfying about finishing a book in one day. this morning i knew nothing about you and now ive lived this whole thing with you. idk. it's interesting.

[all-of-your-mercy]

sounds like an occasion........................... where i need to have a crisis :thinking emoji:

[gilbertscurls]

holaa i got request that like 7 mins vids of chris and reader being in love but they are bsf like some fan did vid showing moments chris and reader do that shows their love to eachother

hope you like it!! <3

also, i think i've seen a similar story somewhere, so credits to the original

7 Minutes of Chris and Y/N Being in Love ➵ Chris Sturniolo

You stumbled upon the video late one night, alone in your room with the glow of your phone casting soft shadows across the walls. It was titled “7 Minutes of Chris and Y/N Being in Love But Not Admitting It”, posted by one of the Sturniolo Triplets’ most dedicated fans. Curious, you clicked on it, not quite ready for the trip down memory lane.

The video started with a soft piano tune, and each moment was introduced by a little title. You held your breath as the first clip began.

1. “The Hoodie Thing”

The video opened with a scene from a casual vlog, probably from a random day where the four of you had just been hanging out. The camera was set up on the counter, capturing Chris as he talked animatedly about something or another. In the middle of his story, he looked over and spotted you wrapped up in his hoodie. You saw his mouth twitch in that familiar way as he tried to keep his composure, but his cheeks betrayed him, turning just a bit pink.

“Is that mine?” he asked, pretending to be annoyed, though the sparkle in his eyes told a different story.

You shrugged, smiling as you hugged the hoodie tighter. “You left it here. Finders, keepers.”

The fan had zoomed in on his face just then, catching the soft expression he wore as he looked at you, that look he always gave when he thought you weren’t watching.

2. “The Arm Thing”

The next clip was from one of their prank videos, where Nick had decided to try scaring you by hiding behind the door. The plan went off without a hitch; you’d jumped in fright, letting out a little squeal. The moment Chris heard it, he stepped in close, putting an arm around your shoulders, almost instinctively, like a protective reflex.

“Are you okay?” he asked, not even giving Nick the satisfaction of a laugh.

You laughed, brushing it off, but Chris kept his arm around you for the rest of the video. The fan had added a heart overlay on that moment, making it all the more obvious to anyone watching that this wasn’t just a casual gesture. It was his way of telling you, without words, that he’d always be there to protect you.

3. “The Way He Looks At Her”

This cutscene played moments from several videos stitched together: every time Chris’s gaze lingered on you a little longer than necessary, his eyes softening, or the way his face would light up whenever you walked into the room.

One clip was from a road trip vlog where Nick had asked you a question, and you’d gone off on a tangent, laughing at your own story. The fan had slowed down the footage as Chris watched you, his smile widening with every word you spoke. They’d even added text overlay: Look at the way he smiles at her.

And there it was—that undeniable, heart-melting look that said so much more than words ever could.

4. “The Hand Thing”

The screen faded to another clip, this time from a Q&A the triplets had done with you sitting behind Chris. He’d been laughing at something Matt said, his hand reaching back to rest on yours almost absentmindedly. You’d barely registered it, but the fans clearly had, picking up on the way his fingers subtly intertwined with yours.

At one point, you noticed and looked down, a slight blush coloring your cheeks. But Chris didn’t pull away; he just squeezed your hand gently, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

The fan had zoomed in here, highlighting the way his thumb rubbed small circles on your hand, creating a moment that had clearly been noticed by everyone but you two.

5. “Little Things He Remembers”

This section showed clips where Chris would mention something small about you, things you didn’t even realize he’d picked up on. In one of the videos, you’d talked about a favorite candy that you hadn’t had in years, and a month later, in a different video, Chris had surprised you with it.

Your face had lit up, and the fan had looped Chris’s shy smile when he saw your reaction. Then came another clip from a Christmas gift exchange vlog, where he’d somehow known exactly what to get you—a rare vinyl record you’d been looking for forever.

As you hugged him in gratitude, the fan captioned it: he remembers the little things.

6. “The Almost Kiss”

This was the clip that made you catch your breath. It was from a few weeks back, a late night when you and Chris had been filming a random vlog in his room. He’d been teasing you about something, and you’d leaned in to swat his shoulder, both of you laughing.

But then there was that moment—a pause—where your faces were just inches apart, his gaze locked on yours, and everything had gone quiet. You could almost feel the unspoken words hanging in the air, the what if.

The fan had zoomed in, adding a soft overlay to heighten the tension, and you watched yourself look up at him, eyes wide, both of you caught in that heart-stopping second. His face had softened, and he’d opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, but then he’d pulled away, laughing to break the tension.

The screen faded to black as the fan added one final caption: maybe one day.

You stared at the end screen, your heart racing. You’d felt all those moments before, lingering on the edges of your friendship with Chris, but seeing them compiled like this left you breathless. Your mind raced back to that last clip, to the almost kiss. What would have happened if he hadn’t laughed it off? If you hadn’t pulled away?

Just as you were lost in thought, your phone buzzed with a text from Chris.

Chris: Yo, did you see this vid someone made of us? LMAO they really think we’re in love or something 😂

You felt a rush of nerves, unsure of how to respond.

You: Haha yeah, just saw it… it’s kinda cute though, don’t you think?

There was a pause, longer than usual, and you held your breath, waiting.

Chris: Yeah… kinda cute.

Chris: Listen, about that one clip… you know the one I’m talking about, right?

You: Yeah. I know.

Chris: What if I said I wasn’t just acting for the camera?

Your heart skipped a beat. You could almost picture him, staring down at his phone, wondering if he’d said too much. But something told you it was time to finally say the words that had been on the tip of your tongue for years.

You: Then I’d say… me neither.

It was a simple exchange, a confession years in the making, and yet somehow, that was all it took.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash

[supreme-leader-stoat]

Where does "turn the other cheek" leave Christians in terms of self-defense?

Alright, so, big asterisk up front: we've been arguing about this among ourselves for about two millennia and it shows no signs of stopping. A Quaker is liable to give you a much different answer than a raised-Baptist.

First, some context. The "turn the other cheek" verse is specifically part of the Sermon on the Mount, where Jesus takes Old Testament law and raises the ante. The law says not to murder, He tells them not to let their anger overtake and control them to begin with. The law says not to commit adultery, He says not to even look at people with lustful intentions (this is the poke out your eye, cut off your hand passage). The law says that a man divorcing his wife has to give her the legal protections of a certificate of divorce, He says that anything short of cheating isn't valid grounds for divorce to begin with (this has a lot to do with the protections or lack thereof for unmarried women at the time, but that's a whole tangent I won't go into here). The law says to keep your oaths, He says to be such a straightforward and honest person that you don't even need to give your oath to begin with. And so on.

Now, with all that in mind; "turn the other cheek" is Him upping the ante on the segment of Mosaic law that literally gives us the phrase "an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth." It was half legal prescription on the just punishments for certain crimes, and half laying down the rules and restrictions of what constituted acceptable proportionate retaliation. If someone punches you, you can punch him back. Someone kills your brother, you can execute him. What you can't do is go and slaughter his entire family, because that's how you get blood feuds, and that doesn't end well for anybody.

Looking at it from that angle, "turn the other cheek" is a commandment against retaliation and vengeance, and this is the interpretation I've grown up around most of my life. Someone hits you and you've got the opportunity to walk away, then you take your lumps and go, and you don't stew and think about what you're gonna do to get back at him the next time you see him.

Active and immediate self-preservation is another matter. To the best of my knowledge, there is no clear prohibition in the Bible against such actions; even "he who lives by the sword shall die by the sword" is immediately followed by "Do you think that I cannot appeal to my Father, and he will at once send me more than twelve legions of angels? But how then should the Scriptures be fulfilled, that it must be so?" The rebuke isn't for acting in the defense of others, it's for getting trigger-happy when Jesus isn't in any true (immediate) danger and because it's ultimately a pointless fight; Jesus has to go to the cross.

If you'll pardon an older example, let's take a look at Esther Chapter 8. King Ahasuerus gives the Jews leave to form militias to protect themselves and their property against the lynch mobs that would be attacking them as part of Haman's genocide plot, and this is presented to us as an inherently just and sensible course of action.

So, to answer the original question, I don't believe that there's anything wrong with Christians practicing self-defense, "turn the other cheek" notwithstanding.

But.

There's one more thorny patch to consider in this whole argument, and that's the one bit of Matthew 5 that comes after "turn the other cheek": "Love your enemy, and pray for those who persecute you." The safety that Christians enjoy in the modern west is an anomaly both geographically and historically. Christianity is, at its very root, a religion of martyrs. Many and maybe even most of those martyrs have gone to their deaths, if not willingly, then at least peaceably. It's worth noting that we don't tell the story of Stephen, who made a valiant last stand against the mob that tried to stone him. We tell the story of Stephen the martyr. "Lord, do not hold this sin against them."

Honestly, I don't know that I'd have the courage to die like they did. If there's someone who's trying to hurt you, trying to hurt your family, I won't be the one to look you in the eyes and say you have to stand down; I'm already well aware of the decision I'd make in that situation. But from the moment we accept eternal life, our old lives here on Earth are forfeit. Any time that could be taken from us with our death is on loan to begin with. A hypothetical attacker in a self-defense situation isn't guaranteed that same benefit. They might very well have far, far more to lose than we do.

I don't believe Christians are forbidden self-defense, but I think we are expected to weigh the costs.

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch. 2

Jason Todd x Chubby! Reader (fem)

A/N: Wow, I was not expecting that kind of reaction! Thank you to everyone who's interacted with chapter 1; I've had a rough week and you all made my day! I wasn't planning on posting chapter 2 until I was a bit further along with ch 3, but I just can't find it in me to say no to ya'll!

Chapter Selection

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, hurt (no comfort) (yet), will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings (chapter specific): chapter includes a brief scene of attempted assault (which will be labeled for those who'd rather skip it) angst, gun violence, some negative self-talk

words: 1.8k

Jason's first call came at exactly 2:05pm the next day. When I picked up I was immediately greeted by his voice seemingly from the other side of a very large room; “seriously, guys! I'll call, I'll call!”

“Too late!” Dick shouted, clearly holding the phone. “Hello! This is Dick, calling on behalf of my idiot brother, Jason! We met at the cafe yesterday?”

I could hear Jason shouting at someone, but it was muffled like he was under something. “Right … So are you going to put Jason on, or…?”

“Well, Jaybird is under the impression that calling a girl the next day is ‘desperate’ and ‘off-putting’, so we've taken up a poll at the house, and surprise surprise; we need a tiebreaker. Your thoughts?”

Before I could respond I heard muffled grunting; someone in the background shouted “no! Get him!” which was immediately followed by a yelp from Dick as Jason growled a bit;

“Give me that!” A door slammed, and all the other voices were gone, replaced by Jason's gentle, almost shy voice; “... Um … hi … still think this is normal sibling behavior?”

I giggled; “... Starting to veer away from normal now. But it's sweet, they obviously really care about you. And for the record - you can call the poll on the side of ‘it’s not desperate or off-putting'; I gave you my phone number, surely I expected you to use it, right?”

“... O- oh, yeah I guess that makes sense … So yeah, I'm using it. … Hi.”

“Hi~”

After that, I spoke to Jason in some capacity or another most every day. Turned out he was a night owl too. Apparently he worked most nights, so, after I assured him that a text wouldn't wake me, he started preemptively sending me a good morning text around 3 or 4am, so it was the first thing I saw when I woke up.

I loved how he could go off on an impassioned tangent; getting him all worked up over literature was especially cute. He did have a tendency to backpedal after a particularly passionate rant, no matter how many times I pointed out that I liked hearing him so excited. We also kept trying to arrange a day to get together, preferably without his brothers hovering this time, but his work schedule was so hectic that we kept having to postpone.

It seemed a bit unlikely, but I started to wonder if I had been right in the first place; that it was all some really elaborate prank. It certainly wouldn't be the first time an attractive man had played with my heart like that, though it would be the first time one had bought me anything before pulling the rug out from under me… 

Nearly a month into our texting relationship, Jason went radio silent for several days. No warning, just gone. I didn't want to be clingy, but I was a bit worried. He had been so attentive until this, what if something was wrong and I was out here thinking the worst about him?

On day 5 without a response I picked up a late shift at work, hoping to distract myself from the whole thing. It didn't work though, and I ended up trudging home at 2am blasting loud, angry music through my headphones. I was frustrated, and confused, and careless. I didn't notice the man behind me until his hand was around my wrist.

 ❌❌❌ -skip point- ❌❌❌

The world moved in slow motion as I was pulled into the alley. The man's mouth was moving, but I just heard a staticy ring. I tasted copper, and everything was too dark. Things didn't snap back into focus until I felt the rough brick slam against my back and I screamed, shoving against him.

All at once, everything was moving too fast; he was grabbing, I was punching and kicking, my voice was cracking. A second felt like an eternity, I couldn't even hazard a guess how long the fight actually took. But all at once it ended; with a loud, sharp sound that left me frozen in place and my ears ringing, the man collapsed in front of me. Red bloomed across his unmoving chest, and all I could do was stare.

❌❌❌ -end skip point- ❌❌❌

Large, leather clad hands gently touched my shoulders, bringing me back into my body. I slowly looked up, blinking. I immediately recognized the masked man who had come to my aid; Red Hood had made quite the name for himself in his time as a mob boss. I heard something droning on, but couldn't focus on any specific details over the sound of my own heartbeat still pounding in my ears. It took him gingerly sliding my headphones off for me to realize the noise I was hearing was just the next song on my angry playlist.

“Miss? Can you hear me now?” there was an electric quality to his voice. I vaguely wondered why more Masks didn't use voice modulators; it seemed more practical than the standard vigilante eye coverings… 

I slowly nodded. “... Y- … yeah?”

The red helmet nodded once, “did he hurt you?”

I looked down at myself, frowning a bit. My shirt was grimed up from the struggle, and I could feel the cold night air on the back of my thighs; my pants had ripped when I tried to kick the man off me. A shaky breath turned into a sob as I gasped, looking up again.

A million thoughts ran through my head at once. I wanted to scream, to curse, anything! But all I managed was a whimpered; “... Th- these were my favorite pants …”

“... Well, your boyfriend will just have to get you a new pair. Let … let me get you home, yeah?” I flinched as he reached toward me again, a gloved finger gently wiping away my tears. He offered me his hand, easing me out of the alley like a frightened stray cat.

I followed without complaint, turning my music off. “... No boyfriend …”

“A friend then? Someone who'll take care of you.” Red Hood led me to a motorcycle. He unzipped a bag on the back, and held out a red flannel shirt.

A watery giggle slipped out of my mouth and I shakily took it, tying it around my waist. “... I don't even know anymore…” 

“Don't know?”

“Well, I was talking to a guy, but … I think he ghosted me.”

“No!” I jumped at the sudden volume and insistent tone, looking up at him awkwardly.

“... No?”

“I … I just mean … a pretty girl like you's not gonna get ghosted. If he hasn't texted back in a few days there's gotta be a reason.”

I looked away, squirming awkwardly. Did an ex-crime lord turned vigilante really just call me pretty? “... Y- … I … what?”

He was silent for a long moment. I got the distinct impression that he was staring at me, but with the helmet on it was hard to tell. “... We should get you home.”

Next thing I knew, I was holding Red Hood's helmet. I hesitantly looked up as he turned, catching just a glimpse of one of those domino masks the other local vigilantes wore. He moved his bag and swung one leg over the seat of his bike, turning back to stare at me expectantly. The prospect of letting the Red Hood know where I lived didn't seem like the smartest idea, but I was definitely not going to walk home alone after all that. So I slid the helmet on and carefully climbed behind him, placing my feet where he indicated. As I arranged the flannel between my bare thighs and the seat it occurred to me how unexpectedly kind it was of him to offer it. I knew he had been spotted working with the Bats lately, but just because they had accepted him didn’t mean he was a boy scout all of a sudden...

Of course, now that I was on his bike I was faced with the rather pressing concern of where to put my hands. I didn’t exactly have handle bars, and I doubted he was going to drive slow enough that I could stay upright; I would have to lean against him. I took a deep, steadying breath, and placed my hands on his shoulders. Hood froze a bit, and after a moment he reached behind himself to grasp my elbows. He gently pulled me to wrap my arms around his waist.

 “It's actually safest this way. Interlock your fingers, and lean with me on turns.” His voice was so much nicer without the helmet distorting it, even if he was doing a truly terrible Batman impression. 

“... O- ok…” I clung to him, feeling my entire body heat up. I wasn't sure how much of that was because I was blushing and how much was because the Red Hood was apparently a living space heater, but either way I was glad he couldn't see my face. I told him how to get to my apartment, and we sped off.

The roar of the engine and the wind whipping past mercifully drowned out anything we could have hoped to say to each other. I shut my eyes just for a moment, trying not to cry again, and suddenly Hood’s hand was trapping mine against his stomach. “... Hey, this it?”

I jolted slightly, looking up at the familiar building. I nodded, slowly extracted myself from his grip, and slid back onto solid ground. He held a hand up to stop me as I started to remove the borrowed flannel.

“Keep it.”

I blinked slowly, having trouble processing what he said. “... But … it’s your shirt … how will I give it back to you?”

He chuckled softly; “it’s just a shirt.”

I didn’t have the energy to argue the matter any further. I slipped his helmet off, holding it out to him.

“Thank you … I can't believe I let this happen…”

He frowned deeply at that, and his voice shifted a bit from a fake-Batman voice into an actually deep, grumpy tone; “you didn't let anything happen.”

“I'm usually so much more observant, if I had just been paying attention…”

“He would have changed tactics. You did nothing wrong. I don't want you thinking otherwise, got it?”

I sniffled softly, looking down at my shoes. “... I … God, I didn't even have my keys in my hand… I was taught better…”

“And I was taught not to kill. Shit happens.”

I blinked a bit, unable to stop the laugh that bubbled up. “… I … I guess so. … Th- Thank you … for everything.”

He nodded once before putting his helmet back on. Before I could step away, he reached out to touch my hand again. “Hey. You did everything right, ok? You drew attention, and you kept him off until I got there. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Got it?”

I nodded slowly, stepping back a bit. “… ok.”

“Good. Now, get inside.” He waited there, watching me. Only after the building's front door was closed and locked did I hear his motorcycle speed away.

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika

Taglist: @jawdropforkpop

(If you would like to be added to the taglist feel free to let me know!)

[house-of-lovin]

legally binded - 3

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. ♣ prev part | next part

Chapter 3: Movie Premieres, SNL and Quarrels

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: dual!pov, famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of hard substances, intoxication, mature language, real people (do not read if any of these makes you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: Otherwise known as the One in New York. What do you guys think about R and Jenna's dynamic so far? 👀 (taking a break for a few days/maybe a week after I post this, I think I've kept you all fed for a bit while I'm gone lol, in the meantime, send asks I'll try to answer all of them!😋)

Word Count: 6.4k+

“You get on that plane and I’ll drop you as a client.” Jake’s voice rings out from your work phone. 

“What the fuck, Jake, are you serious?!” You seethe, practically red in the face. 

You have been on the phone with Jake for the last hour – Liv refuses to pick up your calls after you blew up the group chat, rehashing your argument with Jenna. Desperately pleading to fly back home because you couldn’t stand being in the same city as the actress, at the moment. 

You couldn't even think about her words without it making your blood boil.

“Fuck yeah, I’m serious. Do you know what time it is here?”

Glancing at the clock it read 3:46 A.M. EST, you roll your eyes. “It’s just past midnight in L.A. You won’t die if you don’t get eight hours of sleep.”

“Be quiet. I don’t wanna hear another word from you.” He nearly shouts and you imagine that one vein popping through his forehead. You liked to stare at it when Jake goes off on his shouting tangents at you. 

He never notices that you're not paying attention.

“Maybe we should get Liv on the phone or maybe Sarah?” Link glances at you worriedly.

He hates seeing you so riled up, so he often played the middle-man with your quarrels against Jake and Liv.

“Liv says she doesn’t wanna hear it. Sarah says forget it and I’m saying, I’m not fucking around this time Y/N, this is your last chance. I’m over your shit.” He hangs up the phone, leaving the line dead.

You jump face-first into the stiff bed, groaning loudly.

“Looks like you’re outta luck.” He pats you back, leaving you to sulk alone as he shuts the door. “Try to get some sleep.”

There was no way you ended up in this situation. 

You guess, it was fair to acknowledge your recent streak of bad behaviour. First, it was tame — ignoring your phone, running away to party, getting mixed in the wrong crowds – eventually, Link had to start dragging you out of bed by the legs (sometimes kicking and screaming) just to make it in time for a gig.

You’re not sure when all of this started. All you knew is that you were so tired. You just wanted one second to breathe; to feel like that young child again, with hopes and dreams. But no, someone was always hovering over your shoulder ready to drag you away to another event you could care less about. 

You close your eyes, allowing the jetlag and exhaustion to set in as your body moulds into the mattress.

– 

The next day, you find yourself standing in front of Jenna’s hotel room. The large double door looks menacing and faintly, you can already hear a bustle on the other side. You really didn’t want to knock but you know what was on the line so you swallow your pride and raise a fist to knock. 

But before you can knock, the door is opening revealing a girl, with dirty blonde hair bearing a semblance to a certain actress. “Oh, hi!”

“Hello.” You greet warmly.

“I’m Aliyah. Jenna’s younger sister.” She holds her free hand out.

You shake her hand, “Nice to meet you, I’m–”

“I know who you are.” She smiled then laughed, “Everyone knows who you are.”

You chuckled, shyly nodding. “I guess.”

“Are you two done?” Jenna suddenly appears, yanking the door wider so you can see her. Her makeup complements her well; the green bustier two-piece looked expertly crafted just for her; and the way her hair fell in soft waves framed her face nicely. 

“Hi…” You say a little vacant-sounding.

You don’t say anything else.

From the corner of your eye, you see her sister’s raised brow but you think you’re imagining it because you can’t keep your gaze off of Jenna. The actress raises her brow at you, impatient.

“What did you need?” She asks.

“Uh—I wanted to talk, about last night."

Jenna watches you momentarily before rolling her eyes; pulling you inside with a rough yank. “Get inside before someone sees you — Aliyah close the door.”

You stumble, still a little dazed but the smaller girl’s nails are gripping your arm painfully making you snap out of it.

“Ow, ow, ow.” You whisper, not inattentive to the multiple people scattered around the large room.

“Guys, this is Y/N.” She ignored your complaints and pulled you past the foyer into the living room – her entire team had taken refuge in the room to get the star ready for a day of press interviews.

Various echoes of your name and greetings are sent back to you but you certainly don’t miss the awkward tension in the room started by your sudden presence. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, I can just go.” You point behind you.

“Nonsense.” An older woman that looked kinda like the actress waves off. “It’s great to have you here, Miss L/N. Jenna was just talking about you.”

“Oh please, just Y/N is fine.” Shaking your head bashfully, briefly wondering what she could be telling her family and team about what kind of person you are.

“I’m Jenna’s mom. That’s her dad, her other sister Mia, and her brother Markus.” She points and you try to keep up with the names of the people she’s throwing at you; Jenna’s family and team included.

“It’s so great to meet you all. It’s not hard to see that Jenna is so loved.” You say sincerely.

“We try our best.” Her dad says looking appreciative of your words. You smile at everyone and it seems to ease a bit of the tension in the room.

You didn’t see Jenna rolling her eyes again (her favourite to do around you) disregarding the encounter; she hides the surprise she feels from your genuine compliment.

Last night's argument with you, still burning in her brain.

“What did you want to say?" She says a little bluntly.

Watching as everyone turns to go back to what they were doing, you look down at Jenna. “Um… I wanted to apologize for last night. And call a truce, maybe over dinner?

She looks surprised not expecting you to be the first one to give in. “Oh…”

“Yeah…”

“I appreciate it.” Jenna cuts in, “I’m sorry too… a truce sounds good. Sarah got mad at me too, for what it's worth. She even said I was whining.”

Jenna jokes, dropping her walls a bit.

You rub a hand on the back of your neck, chuckling, “Good to know.”

“I can’t do dinner though.” She shuts her eyes as if remembering something. 

“Oh, that’s okay. Maybe another time.”

“Or maybe… you can be my date to the Scream cast dinner?” She offers, looking a little hopeful.

“Are you sure?” You chew your lip. Ignoring the word date.

“Yeah! Totally, you can meet everyone, it’ll be great. Not to throw anyone under the bus but they’ve been trying to meet you.” She says sheepishly.

You laugh, dropping your walls just a tad. “Sure I’ll be there.”

She smiles warmly, satisfied with your answer. “Yeah, it’ll be great. I guarantee there’ll be paparazzi, so it’ll be good for publicity. They’ve been hounding me since I landed, my dad nearly pushed a guy in the airport. I couldn’t even walk to the door by myself at the SNL dinner cast party.”

You lose a bit of the smile but Jenna doesn’t see, laughing at her memory of the paparazzi. You blink around, making sure no one saw you, it might give them the wrong idea. “Uh, yeah sure. I’m good with whatever.”

“Okay, cool.” She shoots a thumb up, walking away from you. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“Mhmm.” You smile, waving goodbye to everyone and booting it out the door. 

Unsure where the tension in your chest is coming from you swiftly walk to the elevator; aggressively tapping the button as if the elevator would come faster that way. And practically throwing yourself in the metal box as soon as it opens.

You miss the entire pandemonium that implodes in the room when you leave.

“Holy shit?” Mia exclaims.

“Language.” Her mom chastises. 

“No, holy shit, indeed. Jenna oh my god what did you do to that poor girl?” Aliyah walks past Jenna to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. 

“What are you talking about?” She looks at her sisters confused.

Mia’s rolling her eyes, standing up from the couch. “Did you not see the way she was looking at you?”

“No? How was she looking at me?” She turns to her mom who had a hint of a smile on her lips as if she knew something. Jenna was starting to feel left out. 

“She likes you, Jen.” Her brother speaks up, not even bothering to look up from his phone. 

“What? You guys are crazy. We barely know each other.” Jenna starts shaking her head furiously, turning to Enrique, her stylist and close friend. “Enrique, tell them they’re being crazy.”

But he shrugs, sharing that same Cheshire grin her mom had. “God, not you too.” She clamps her eyes shut with her hands.

“Hey! Watch the eyes!” Her makeup artist warns. 

“Dad?” She drops her hands, pleading at the silent man, who, she knows is listening. Why do Dads do that thing where they let everyone argue, only stepping in when the Mom asks for backup. 

He remains in character – staying silent.

“You guys don’t know what you’re talking about. She was literally here for five seconds. How could you possibly think she likes me from that.” Jenna turns to everyone else.

“I don’t know, Jen. The eyes never lie.” Mia says, privy to the way your smile fell when Jenna mentioned being spotted for publicity tonight. 

“I’m– I’m late for interviews, I need to go,” Jenna mutters, grabbing her purse and walking to the door. 

–

“This is gonna blow up.” Your producer says from beside you. 

“I don’t know. I still think it’s missing something.” You sigh, sliding the headphones off as you slump onto the plush leather seats. 

You sneaked off to the studio not too far from the hotel in lower Manhattan. See you would have told Link or anyone really, but you were trying to be discreet. And Link is one ‘ol snitch and the personal fun police. 

It seems after your fight with Jenna, Jake and Liv put you under strict instructions not to leave the hotel unless accompanied by someone from your team. 

You’re not a fucking child. You don’t need a babysitter. So here you are, with your producer in the studio trying to record this damn song you’ve been stuck on for three months.

“Maybe it’s time to scrap the song then.” He offers. “It’s never gonna be done before Coachella.”

Immediately you are shaking your head. No, this song is special, you can feel it. If only you can get your head out of your own ass long enough to find the damn words. 

“No, just– just put it on hold. Let’s work on something else.”

He sighs, clicking the screen to pull up another file. “Your call.”

The buzzing of your phone against the wooden table echoes into the silence that grew as you waited. “Ah fuck.”

Reaching over, you grab the phone and are bombarded by a flurry of texts and missed calls. 

Some from Jenna, some from your bodyguard and driver, most from Link.

Jenna’s is the first one you click.

The phone rings three times before it gets picked up. Muffled, loud voices are all you hear at first before she eventually speaks up, “Hello?”

“Hey, I am so–”

“Where the hell are you? You’re ten minutes late. We’re all waiting for you.” Her tone is sharp and snipped. 

You had fucked up.

“Fuck… I’m sorry, I’ll be right there– there was…. uh.” You stand, gathering your jacket and silently bidding your producer goodbye as he looks on confused. “There was a lot of traffic. I am so sorry, I’m trying to make it as fast as I can.”

She sighs through the phone, “It’s…fine. Just get here as soon as you can, please.”

A little white lie never killed anybody.

You make it to the restaurant in record time. Pushing through the paparazzi camping outside the restaurant doors. Do they have no shame? Clearly not as they shout Jenna’s name at you; asking if you were there to see her, trying to get their piece of the scoop. Thankfully, the security guard had seen you and personally ushered you to the cast‘s table. Someone must have informed them that you were coming.

You’re still blinking away the spots in your vision from the camera flashes when you feel an arm pulling you down to sit. 

“What took you so long?”Jenna asked assertively, scanning you.

“I told you. Traffic.” You plaster a smile at all the eyes on you, subtly shrugging Jenna’s arm off yours with a little bit of attitude.

You don’t miss her clenched jaw. Plastering a smile in front of her costars who were trying their best not to gawk at you. "Well, where were you then? No one could get a hold of you, we were worried."

You tried your hardest to school your genuine surprise at her worry. "Sorry. I was working. My phone was off."

“Hi! I’m Melissa, it’s so nice to meet you, I’m a big fan.” A brunette extends her hand from across the long table – interrupting Jenna before she can say anything else.

You make the usual greetings, introducing yourself to Jenna’s costars and colleagues. You felt a bit like a trophy wife if you were being honest. Like eye candy on her arm, serving only to make her look good. Upon that realization, you feel a little flushed. You’re not sure why, that is the whole point of this whole thing. 

Her castmates have been sending you two knowing eyes over dinner — giving Jenna inconspicuous smirks and smug grins as if you couldn’t see. You keep your head down after the pleasantries are over and the main courses are brought out. 

Grateful, you don’t have to talk about your upcoming projects any longer.

“What’s wrong?” You nudge her elbow, noticing how she was pushing away some pieces of food on her plate. 

“I don’t like apples.” She mutters. 

You can’t fight the smile that creeps on your lips but you don’t tease. “Just push them off to the side and I’ll eat it.”

She looks at you. “You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s no big deal.” You shrug taking a sip of your wine. 

“That doesn’t gross you out or anything? I know some people are weird about that sort of thing.” Jenna explains. 

“Dude, I’ll eat your apples, chill.” You laugh.

“Okay, thanks…” She mumbles, still looking at you but you turn, talking to Mason and his girlfriend.

Jenna feels a nudge on her side. “What?” 

“You two are cute.” Jasmin smirks. “And Y/N L/N? Not a bad catch at all.”

“Stop.” Jenna blushes. Unsure if she feels uncomfortable that some of her close and respected friends believe this lie so easily.

–

“Hey, give them some space!” The security guard shouts as the paparazzi come rushing toward the door as soon as the cast steps out. 

You were standing in the lobby waiting for Jenna. “Shit…” You hear her mutter, watching as she searches for something in her bag. 

“What’s up?” You ask.

“I forgot my sunglasses in my room. The flashes hurt my eyes.” She frowns. Wordlessly, you fish the pair you stashed in your jacket. 

“Here, wear mine.” You hold the glasses out, watching as she just stares at it. Rolling your eyes, you push it toward her. “Dude, just take it.”

“Thanks…” She mumbles, sliding them up her hair. 

You walk ahead of her, holding the door open as everyone trickles out. You’re regretting giving Jenna your only sunglasses cause the flashes are bright and it’s making your eyes water.

“Go ahead,” You usher, only leaving once everyone’s gone ahead of you. You trail behind ignoring the various men with large cameras chasing you as you walk down the sidewalk. 

“Y/N over here, please! Just one photo.”

“Y/N, just one photo of you and Jenna, please!” 

“What do you have to say about Vegas?”

You ignore them keeping your head down trying not to fall behind. 

“Where’s Y/N?” You hear over the sea of nameless faces. 

“Right here.” You say, sliding in beside her.

You miss the subtle sigh of relief she lets out.

“You can’t just walk behind everyone like that.” She grits, frustratedly.

"I tried to keep up." You mumbled like a scolded husband.

The shouting increases when you stand beside one another; practically rendering you blind with all the flashes. “Dammit.” 

You place an hand on her back, pushing her forward. “Put on the sunglasses and walk.”

“Y/N, please over here. Jenna!” The shouting is constant and blurs altogether all at the same time. 

“Ow.” You feel Jenna tumble when someone bumps her side causing her to bump harshly against you. Firmly, you grab her arm to preventing her from falling and pushed back against the crowd to check on her.

“Are you okay?” you ask worriedly as she fixes the lopsided glasses. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

“Hey. Watch it–” You grit at the closest person holding a camera. “It wasn’t me.”

The man insists, still shamelessly snapping flashes directly into your face and you begin to grow angry, slapping the camera out of his hands. “I said fucking watch it, asshole.”

You glare for a brief moment as the shouting gets impossibly louder. Knowing if you didn’t pull Jenna out of this, chaos would ensue. You link hands and drag her through the crowd, briskly walking to her castmates who shared looks of concern.

“Are you okay?” You ask, still walking but now barricaded by security and her friends.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I promise.” She squeezes your hand but then sighs, “You shouldn’t have done that.”

You scoff, “Are you serious? That guy pushed you.” 

“It was an accident and you kinda overreacted.” She whispers lowly. 

You clench your jaw, dropping her hand — Not wanting to blow up in front of her colleagues, you walk swiftly ahead.

You don’t talk even when you are both side-by-side being driven back to the hotel. Her driver has the partition up halfway but you see the nosy glances he keeps making at the rearview mirror as you and Jenna sit in silence; acutely aware to the growing tension between you and the actress.

You refuse to speak, just looking out the window as other cars pass by on the street. 

“Are you done ignoring me now?” She speaks up but you still don’t want to talk. “Seriously?”

“Y/N all he did was push me. A little shove, that’s all. I’m okay. What’s not okay is the phone call you know we’re going to get from Liv and Sarah about that guy’s camera.”

“He deserved it.” You mumble through the palm holding your head up. 

“I’m not saying he didn’t but you can’t just be aggressive to paparazzi like that. It’s exactly what they want.” She reasons, turning to you. Hoping you’ll finally look at her. 

“I know…”

“Look at me, please?” She places a hand on your arm.

You turn, keeping your face impassive.

She sends you a shy smile then laughed. “I mean it though, thank you for having my back. My Dad is gonna think this whole thing is hilarious.”

“Why?” You can’t help but join in.

“He’s a cop, so he’s a little protective. He’s been waiting to shove away a pap for the longest time. He’s gonna be so mad you beat him to it.” 

You laugh imagining her father’s reaction. 

–

“You haven’t seen Scream? Not even the original?” Jenna turns bewildered like it was the most blasphemous thing she’s ever heard. You were in her hotel suite, watching movies. For some reason, Jenna invited you over to her room after being dropped off at the hotel. “How? You’re an actress.”

You couldn’t think of a good reason to say no so you accepted.

“Yeah, sorry. Jeez. Way to sound like a film snob. I didn’t know there was a checklist of movies to watch before becoming an actor.” You snort reaching for more popcorn from the bowl beside you. 

“Shut up.” She hits you with the remote. “How have you not seen any of the Scream movies? You’re literally going to my premiere tomorrow.”

You hold up your hands in surrender, throwing a couple of kernels in your mouth. “Sorry, they’re not really my cup of tea.”

She rolls her eyes, snatching some popcorn from your hand, ignoring your protests. “Oh sorry, I forgot we have an action star in our midst.”

It was your turn to hit her arm, “Shut it. I just mean… I haven’t found the time to sit and watch them. They’re not exactly short films.”

“You’re in the MCU and Dune. Don’t talk to me about long movies.”

“Touché…” You can’t beat her there. They are ridiculously long movies. Probably why you’ve only ever seen them during premiere night and never again. “Well, put one on then. Let’s see what all the hype is about.”

She grins scrambling for the remote. “You’re on.”

You wait for her to pull up the Scream catalogue, chuckling at her visible excitement.

“Hey, why did you become an actress? and singer while we’re at it, Miss Grammy winner.” She nudges your shoulder.

You snort, shoving her lazily. “Shut up… Do you want the press interview answer or the real one?”

She raises a brow, immediately deciding. “The real one.”

You nod, feeling like she would say that.

“My mom... She was a rising star in the 80s but something happened and she never got to live out her dreams. When she had me she put me through all of the arts. I bumped and failed with most of them but acting and singing kinda stuck… I guess she saw those were the only two things I could stand so she pushed and pushed, it led to Jake discovering me and here we are.”

Jenna stays silent processing your story, she doesn’t miss the slight solemness your tone had taken. "Why do I feel like there's more to it than that?"

You chuckle, licking your lips. "Caught me... it's why I don't talk to my parents anymore."

"Oh..."

"Yeah. As soon as I turned eighteen I cut ties with them. She got too controlling, wanting money, wanting autonomy over my career so I took Link with me and moved to L.A. and did it on my own. I think... at some point acting became a spite thing with me because of her.

“Spite?” Jenna asks?

“Yeah… it was all I’ve ever known for a long time until I started making music. Probably the only time I’ve ever felt sure about a decision.”

"Oh..." Jenna finds herself saying again.

"Uh–sorry. I didn't mean to make it weird. We can just forget about it." You curl into yourself, tugging the blanket to your lap.

Jenna blinks, feeling dumb that she's made you think her silence is a bad thing.

"No..." She grabs your wrist. "Thank you for sharing with me."

You look into her eyes, feeling a bit small at her kind eyes. You know it's not out of pity but you couldn't help but want to close up again.

Pulling your hand away from her grip, you cough. "Of course, we're friends now."

"Oh, are we?" Jenna ignores the drop in her chest when you pulled away like that. “Okay, what’s the press answer then?”

“That I watched the movie Cabaret when I was younger and wanted to be like Liza Minelli.” You admit.

Jenna scoffs, “That’s literally my answer.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah except, it’s Dakota Fanning in Man on Fire.”

You chuckle, “doesn’t Denzel die in that one?”

“Yeah and what about it?” She raised a brow.

"But see, don’t fight it we’re meant to be friends... we even share the same answer."

"Shut up, dummy. Every actor has some sort of answer like that.”

Eventually, the two of you start a marathon of the Scream franchise. Which in hindsight, is kind of a bad idea seeing as it was way past midnight and the other actress still has a long week ahead of her. It seems like the events of the day catch up to her cause you feel a head slipping on your shoulder; distracting your focus halfway through Scream 3.

Jenna had fallen asleep with her head on your shoulder. You fight the urge to tense up not wanting to wake her up. She looked like she needed the rest and you relate more than anyone to her exhaustion. 

“Jenna…” You lightly tap, “You fell asleep, you need to go to bed.”

She grumbles, whining in her slumber. You feels your cheeks warm when she unconsciously moves to snuggle closer to you, throwing an arm over your waist.

Fuck.

Really?

God, I am not your strongest soldier. 

“Jen, seriously. Wake up.” You shake her arm.

“What?” She complains, her words muffled by your collarbone.

“You need to go to bed.”

The feeling of her soft lashes brushing against the material of your shirt as she blinks sends a shiver down your spine. “Oh…”

Jenna mumbles mortified. Quickly pushing herself off of you, unable to look you in the eyes. “Sorry.”

You don't mention how she might have punched your stomach and that you were desperately trying not to cough.

“S’okay…” You shake your head softly. You couldn't help but notice the way her hair fell over her eyes messily. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” She asks once she regains her senses, waking up from her short slumber.

Something tells Jenna she won’t be sleeping with how fast her heart is pounding; uncertain as to where her sudden anxiety is coming from. 

“Yeah… I’ll be waiting for you inside.” You stand gathering your belongings.

“Wait, you’re not walking the carpet with me?” Jenna pulled a face.

You raise a brow, “No? At least, I wasn't told I had to. They just said I had to show up.”

“Oh… okay.” She nods then sighed, long and profound.

You continue to raise a brow but don’t say anything. Not wanting to push her. You remember the last time you guys fought and are immediately turned off. No thanks, not trying to open that can of worms.

“Okay. Goodnight then.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” She leans against the door.

Her premiere is a success. After borderline shoving you inside a tinted Cadillac, Link brushes your vintage Prada gown down; making sure you are in tip-top movie-star shape. You don’t walk the carpet, instead heading straight inside – making headlines. 

Your every damn move is a headline these days.

Silently thanking whatever God was out there that you didn’t because the way your jaw dropped when you see Jenna was downright embarrassing. Your reaction would surely have been a running piece if cameras were around.

Your managers would love it though.

Link had to forcefully elbow your side as Jenna walks up to greet you. 

“Wow…” You manage to say. “You look stunning Jenna.”

Jenna was glad for the dim lights in the theatre, “Thanks.” She blushes, casting her eyes down.

“You look great too.” She scans you up and down, suddenly feeling warm under her gape. 

Maybe it was the way her makeup is done or the deconstructed tuxedo for a dress that she had on tonight but she looked more mature, intimidating? Like she could throw you around a little and you’d just gladly ask her to do it again.

Wait, what?

“Thanks… Link and I should head to our seats but I just wanted to congratulate you. This is seriously amazing.” You express sincerely.

Jenna flushes more, waving you off with a huff and a lazy hand. “Please.”

“Seriously!”

Link coughs loudly, interrupting the bubble you and Jenna found yourselves in. “Okay, someone’s a little impatient. We better go.”

A hand reaches out, grabbing you. “Do you wanna, maybe, I don’t know. Sit beside me?”

You turn, surprised. “Oh? What about Enrique?” You glance at her stylist standing just behind her pretending like he wasn’t listening; fiddling on his phone. 

“I’m sure he won’t mind switching to sit with Link, right Enrique?” She turns, asking her friend.

He grins widely, “Nope. All good with me!”

“Perfect!” She smiles at you, still grabbing your arm. 

“We’ll be down there!” Jenna calls out to Link and Enrique linking your fingers out of nowhere as you walk to beside her costars.

You still don’t say anything when Jenna wraps herself around you when you make it to your seats, waving as people cheer with a large smile before pulling you to sit down. 

Only then did she pull herself away, “sorry about that.”

“All good.” You mumble after realizing what happened; turning to face the large screen.

Perfect photo op.

“Hey is that sharpie on your dress?”

“Yes.” She sighs.

The rest of the night goes off without a hitch but you can’t stop the growing unpleasantness in your chest. You decide to brush it off and save face for Jenna’s night. Your sulking and feelings can wait in the privacy of your own four walls and definitely not at a high-profile movie premiere.

By the time you found yourself at the NBC building in a random dressing room at the SNL studio, waiting for Jenna’s monologue you forget all about it. You lay lazily on a stiff and most likely old couch, scrolling through your phone. 

A knock on the door has you pulling off your headphones. “Come in.”

“Hey Y/N.” A head peaks in making you sit up briskly. “Aliyah, hey. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just uh– Jenna’s asking for you.” She sends a sheepish smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling.

“Oh,” Your head perks up. “Is she okay?” You question, following the smaller girl past hallways that all looked the same; trying not to bump into the various stagehands buzzing around. 

“Yeah, yeah, she’s kinda freaking out, though and… we can’t get her to calm down.” You both stop at a closed door. 

“Oh… why me?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“Uh… okay she didn’t exactly say you but I saw your episode and you were hilarious and who better to talk her down than someone who’s done it before.” She flashes a large grin before opening the door and shoving you inside.

The room is empty save for Jenna dressed in a short-legged suit. You force yourself to blink, reminding yourself that you are on a time crunch.

“Jenna.”

She snaps her head at your voice, and a noticeable tremble in her fingers is the first thing you see. “What–what are you doing here? I thought you’d be in your seat by now.”

“Your sister asked me to come.” You admit, walking forward.

“I’m fine. Go to your seat, I’ll see you after the show.” She turns her back to you, looking over sheets of paper with multi-coloured inked notes scribbled on every open space.

“Take a deep breath for me, Jenna.” You walk closer, slowly bringing the hand tightly clutching her notes down. The bones in her fingers relax as she drops the paper. She doesn’t say anything when you don’t disconnect your hands. 

You find yourself standing much closer to her.

“Take a deep breath.” You repeat.

Jenna closes her eyes, inhaling a long, deep and audible breath in then out. She clutches your fingers as she does so, unconsciously leaning back against you to ground her bubbling anxiety. 

She stays in your hold with her back against your chest: a death grip on your fingers. Your swipe a thumb over the skin of her hand. “It’ll be okay…”

“Thanks…” Jenna looks into your eyes, taking one last deep breath.

Briefly, you hold her gaze feeling tepid under the intense look in her eyes. You can’t tell what they're saying but for some reason, the way her dark pupils seemed softer under the fluorescent lights had you under a spell.

And for a fleeting second, you thought she was leaning in closer to you — eyes flickering to your lips.

“Don’t mention it.” You drop her hand immediately, taking wide steps back.

Not liking the way her eyes flickered down.

You don’t like what that could possibly mean.

Jenna’s turning rapidly, pretending not to notice as you take sizable steps away from her. “What did my sister say?”

You laugh, shoving your hands in your jacket. “That she liked my SNL episode and thought someone who’s done it before can talk you down.”

“Talk me down?” She scrunches her nose.

“Don’t shoot the messenger.” You shrug.

“Your episode was okay.” Jenna turns away to face a mirror, brushing away her bangs.

You take the bait, glad she wasn’t trembling anymore. “Okay? I got the whole cast to break, it’s considered a classic. It was nominated for an Emmy that year.”

“It didn’t win though.”

You scoff playfully, “I’m leaving. You clearly don’t need my help anymore.”

She laughs obnoxiously as you stomp out of her dressing room. “Wait.”

You stop just before you open the door. “Yeah?”

“Thank you… for talking me down.” She tucks a hair backs, a little shy.

The small smile creeping on your face is hard to subdue. “Don’t mention it. Now, go. You’re gonna kill it.” You wink, exiting the dressing room.

“She’s all good.” You tell her team.

“That’s it? She hasn’t calmed down all day, it takes you – what, five minutes?” Enrique crosses his arms. Jenna’s mom smirks, patting his back then walked past him and into the room as the rest of her family slowly trickled in; her sisters staring at you intensely.

“Uh sorry?” You blush furiously, walking off in the other direction to find your seat.

Jenna kills it, but that was never a surprise. You can tell she’s nervous throughout her monologue but after Fred Armisen does his bit – from beside you, which had been a pleasant surprise. She begins to grow confident, feeling pleased with your embarrassment when the camera pans to you and Fred.

You’d get her back for that. Making a mental note to cook up a special revenge plan, just for her.

Eventually, she falls into the role naturally. Nailing her punchlines perfectly, working the crowd like an expert, and exquisitely performing her skits. It’s a shock to you when you overhear someone behind you say she’s never done live stage work before.

She's so natural at it.

It's a privilege to watch her perform.

You nearly die when she changes into a red suit as she introduces the musical guest of the night.

Actually, you begin to slide off your seat when she comes out in a pinstripe suit — a reference to the Addams family you overheard in passing.

When credits roll and the ‘LIVE’ sign turns off. You remain in your seat. Unsure if you are just admiring her or if it’s ‘cause your legs no longer functioned. You can’t fight that admiration as it grows when you see how supportive her family is as they cheer her on and celebrate this win as one unit. 

You smile, wishing you can relate. At least some people had that in their lives.

A part of you thinks it makes the whole world’s difference, having a support system like that. But you would never know.

Silently, you slip out the stage doors and back to the random dressing room you’ve decided to take refuge in. 

You narrowly miss Jenna trying to find you through the masses; her smile dropping a bit when she realizes you’re gone.

– 

You don’t get a chance to personally congratulate Jenna because Link was bursting into the dressing room — after complaining about trying to find you for ten minutes. Rambling on how you’re needed back in Los Angeles and there was no time to say goodbye.

When you catch the other actress it’s by pure stroke of luck. You're going through checkout at the hotel, waiting for Link to do all the work as you wait behind him. 

You feel slightly guilty that you're just leaving without warning.

You should send Jenna a text, right? But would she even care if you left so suddenly? She did want you out of the city just a few days ago.

But then, you two literally just, might’ve, maybe, almost kissed/shared a moment in her dressing room, so who knows what you should do at this point.

You feel a migraine forming at the base of your skull, the longer you thought about the other actress.

“Y/N?” A voice breaks your self-deprecating thoughts. You turn to see Jenna with her team and family trailing beside her.

Jenna’s smile falls when she sees your bags. Her family walks ahead but you certainly don’t miss their curious eyes as she stops in front of you.

“Where are you going?” Her eyes keep flickering between you and your bags.

Link avoids her sharp, accusing eyes.

“Back to L.A. sorry I was just about to send you a text, actually.” You confessed, a little ashamed. 

It felt like you got caught doing something you shouldn’t be doing… like when you lie to your long-time partner about the real reason why you want some time apart.

“A text?” She raises an unamused brow not liking your answer.

“Yeah, Jake wants me back in L.A. Uh– sorry, was I supposed to tell you?” You ask, a bit confused.

“Tell me?” She scoffs, face dropping. “Yeah, you’re supposed to tell me. I was going to invite you to dinner to celebrate with my family and the SNL cast tonight. But you weren’t even in the audience anymore by the time I finished.”

“Sorry… I thought you’d want to celebrate with your family.” You shrug lamely, torn between feeling guilty and confused at her reaction to the news of your sudden departure.

She made it feel like you were trying to escape.

“Well, I thought–” 

She cuts herself off with a huff then looked back as her family waits for her by the elevator.

“Thought what?”

As if remembering she was still out in a very public setting, after hosting one of the most recognizable programs in America; Jenna blinks out of it. Shoving her feelings down.

“Nothing. Have a safe flight back to L.A. I’ll see you in a few days… or weeks” She mumbles with an edginess to her words, walking away before you can say anything else.

“Tough break, buddy.” Link pats a comforting hand on your shoulder as you were rendered speechless. Unsure if you should chase her down and apologize.

Damn can she walk fast in those heels.

But, why would you be apologizing for having to do your job?

But the way her brow creased like she was actually upset caused an unpleasant drop in your chest. Not enjoying how she was upset and that it seemed like it was all your fault. You? Nah. Maybe she’s still dealing with other stuff and is just taking it out on you. 

It wouldn’t be the first time.

“What. Just. Happened.” You turn, aggressively snatching your card from the hotel worker who definitely enjoyed the show.

“Are you blind?” He scoffs then walks away from you.

“What do you mean? Link… what do you mean?” 

-

taglist is closed (if your @ can't be tagged it will be removed, DM me to fix it.)

:)

@alexkolax @ladey @jjsmaybank20 @werewoofrobinbuckley @chealsib @fanboy7794 @la-douleur-ne-finit-jamais @zelload @natashadeservedmoree @orang3-ish @jennasslut @friedryes @canyonyodeler @nahnahnahwhatt @be-missed @jjuncidio @fearstreetsoloyouandurmom @oksana-moods @theirishmanronan @r-ude @wokethefuxkup @bandaidss @skate-to-breathee @user173781 @frasersgf @natblidaclexa @justafoolinlove @bring-mecoffee @slu7her @haughtsauce21 @wheesunsangel @cyberexpertalienspy-blog @jennaortegasfootrest @zaza11sblog @omega-horus @heroofdeath11 @selluequestrian @justalittledissociation @imaloserbby @catswag22 @sorexhera @smjmgko @acutenobody @raven-ss @canceldevvi @sweetaimu @rockwyn @rwndsana @cheesybacon1 @cvluswnt @secretbackrooms @vixen1006 @zhasmindoesntknow @namesduntmatter @ulicebld @rozmrazaradelfinow @icarly23 @cartierdreamx

[cuntrygirlcallista]

you need him? i could be him

mattheo riddle x reader

Why you should break up with your boyfriend (and get back with Mattheo)

When you and Mattheo broke up, it was civil, an agreement between you both that you were better off as friends, at least for the time being...

This all began when you started dating a French transfer student who was sorted into Hufflepuff—a choice that, in Mattheo's opinion, just wasn't right for you, for obvious reasons, of course.

1. You didn’t even know if you liked him

"Are you sure you like him?" Mattheo inquired, tilting his head while glancing over at the boy walking toward you. "Matty." you warn in a blank tone. He turned towards you, raising an eyebrow. "Don’t look at me like that. You do this every time I’m interested in someone." "Do what?" "Give me reasons not to, and I refuse to let you do it this time." The conversation ended abruptly as your new little transfer student made his way over, shooting a quick “hello” to Mattheo to be polite and asking to walk you to your next class. Mattheo just scoffed inwardly as the two of you walked away. He knows you, and he knew if you really liked frenchy, you wouldn’t care what he had to say.

2. The both of you had nothing in common

Yes, sometimes opposites do attract, but in Mattheo's opinion, the two of you just weren't an ideal match. You enjoyed small amounts of PDA, like hand-holding and quick pecks—simple gestures that brought you joy. However, your boyfriend despised any public displays of affection, creating a noticeable contrast between your preferences. While you excelled as a diligent student, you also relished in the thrill of partying, letting loose, and embracing moments of pure fun, a lifestyle that clashed with your boyfriend's more reserved nature.

"I don’t understand why you're so upset," you said, frustration evident in your voice. "I don’t understand you at all," your boyfriend replied, packing up his things and leaving your dorm room. All you did was ask to reschedule your weekly study date because you’d promised Pansy you’d go with her to Draco’s party. The two of you could study any other time. Expecting your boyfriend to be a little upset due to losing time spent with you, instead, he went on a tangent about how unserious you are about your academics and even mentioned he wasn’t sure how the two of you were even dating because of how “different” you were.

and Mattheo had to agree.

3. He was too jealous, for example

It was a generally nice day at Hogwarts. The school year was winding down, the weather was pleasant, and you were studying with your boyfriend in the courtyard, surrounded by books and snacks on a blanket. You glance up from your books upon hearing the familiar voices of your favorite Slytherin boys. Draco, Mattheo, Theo, and Blaise emerge from Quidditch practice, looking a bit worse for wear but in good spirits, teasing each other. Pansy follows behind them. Spotting you, they hurry over, eager to talk to you. Amidst laughter and half-finished stories, you learn that Mattheo narrowly avoided a bludger to the head in practice and fell off his broom while dodging it. "Matty, perhaps I could offer you a basic broom skills lesson. I've been assisting the first years, and I'd be happy to help you," you playfully tease.

He flips you off, but instead of responding to your teasing, he asks, "Where's your little boyfriend gone off to?" You scan the courtyard, puzzled by his absence. Unbeknownst to you, Mattheo had been observing closely. He noticed the immediate stiffening of your boyfriend's face when the group approached and the sneer he gave when you affectionately called him “Matty” in your normal, all too sweet tone. Eventually, Mattheo observed your boyfriend getting up and walking away, seemingly conceding to your friends.

4. He couldn’t compete with Mattheo

Everyone in your close circle recognized that Mattheo was the perfect match for you, and eventually, your boyfriend came to the same realization.

He observed the softness in your eyes when you looked at Mattheo, how you would relax upon hearing his voice, and the laughter-filled conversations that defined your interactions, with Mattheo always striving to keep you smiling. How you’d scold Draco for mockingly calling your boyfriend “frenchy” but when Mattheo did it, it would conveniently go unheard.

The final straw was witnessing how quickly you rushed to Mattheo's side after the two fought. As the Slytherin boy stood victorious over the fallen figure of your boyfriend, it was Mattheo's well-being that concerned you the most. While your boyfriend lay beaten on the ground, Mattheo's bruised knuckles seemed of little consequence, yet it was his welfare that captured your utmost attention.

Kneeling beside Mattheo, you overlooked the Slytherin boy's smirk, attentively inspecting his bruised knuckles with worry as he reassured you of his well-being, telling everyone involved where your loyalty resided—always with Mattheo.

Though unspoken it was unmistakably clear who your heart had long belonged to from the very beginning.

@cuntrygirlcallista

[angellayercake]

Can i ask for 10 🥺❤?

Secondo or/and Cardi with close secretary/helper reader who just gives them cheek/forehead kisses every morning and for goodnight without thinking much about it. And papas with crush on them ara just blushing °\\\° with dumb 'im not sure if they're into me'

🤣🤣🤣🤣

It has taken me a while but here you go my dear. You gave me some fantastic inspiration the other day so I've gone on bit of a tangent. I hope you enjoy it! Love yooou 🐇🐇

‘There you go Papa. All fixed for you,’ you smile up at him catching him off guard as always. He nodded at the sibling knelt down before him doing his very best to keep his composure. It wasn’t just the fact that someone was so close to being in a position he knew he would very much enjoy under other circumstances. Nor that he had been going through what his brother had not stopped referring to as a spell dryer than the sahara desert. No, it was this particular sibling that was causing all the problems.

You who had faded into the background of his life until recently. Someone who was an integral but often unnoticed member of the Ministry. To say you just fixed things would do your work a disservice but it seemed whenever there was a problem there you were, smiling and whistling and mending what was broken. Including the heart of this grumpy old man it would seem, not that he would admit it out loud. As he watched you slide the drawer in and out with no problem, the drawer he may have been slamming particularly hard recently in the hope it would get stuck, he thought back to when this had started. And it had started with Snowbell.  

‘No no Papa this will not do!’ The Cardinal tutted, stroking his moustache and frowning at the sight before him. ‘I would never let my rats live in such a small cage and they are much smaller than Snowbell.’ Secondo looked between Copia, the cage that was currently taking up the corner of his office and the ball of white fluff that was sitting quietly on his desk. When, in a moment of weakness, he had admitted to his youngest brother that at times he had felt lonely he hadn’t realised it would become Copia’s mission to fix it for him. The next day he had found himself dragged to the nearest pet store and forced to survey the critters on display as Copia prattled about his rats. He had been humouring him, he had thought until his eyes had fallen on the little white rabbit curled up by itself.

‘Si! This is the one,’ Copia called to the shop assistant gesturing to the enclosure in front of them. ‘We will take this one my friend!’ Before Secondo could utter a word he took in his brother’s beaming face and gave in with a sigh. This was happening whether he liked it or not. 

As Copia was on the phone summoning the person that could fix all their problems Secondo sat at his desk looking at his new pet. She stared back at him, beady black eyes calm in spite of being in an unfamiliar place and all the commotion coming from the other side of the room. 

‘Hello,’ he said quietly, offering his gloved hand for her to inspect. He had no idea what to do with the creature, really not having had a chance to peruse the pile of books Copia had insisted they buy along with everything the shop assistant had suggested they would need to care for her. She stretched her head forward, ears perked up curiously, whiskers twitching as she scented him out, and after a few moments hopping forward until he was able to rest his large hand over her. Slowly he rubbed her head with his thumb and watched her eyes drift close and her ears flop down in contentment. As he watched this lonely little rabbit basque in his affection he felt something in him soften, which is when the door to his office opened and in you walked.  

He hadn’t been able to take in a word of what was being said about Snowbell’s new home he had been mesmerised. You were captivating with an air of quiet confidence that filled the room and he could see the strength in the way you moved. You were chatting away with Copia taking measurements and discussing who knows what details when Snowbell had hopped into his arms stealing both of their attention away from their project. 

‘Ah fratello, she has already seen through your grumpy facade eh?’ He nudges you with his elbow but you are too busy looking up and down between his usual stoic face and the little rabbit he is now cradling.

‘I hear rabbits are very good judges of character, Cardinal,’ you tease. You weren’t scared of him? He would admit himself that the root of his loneliness problem was his grumpy demeanour and ‘resting face of stronzo’ as Terzo liked to call it. It wasn't that he lacked for bedroom partners, he was often spoiled for choice, but he did lack good company anywhere else. And he was growing tired of one off encounters he wanted someone who liked, maybe even loved him. A stirring in his arms brought him out of his less than happy thoughts. ‘What’s her name?’ He could get lost in your kind eyes and he does in fact as he tries to answer the question he was asked.

‘I … well,’ he stutters before giving himself a shake. What is the matter with him? No one had ever been able to reduce him to stuttering. He clears his throat before trying again. ‘It is Snowbell.’ The inquisitive little thing perks up as he holds her up for you to see, looking so small in his cupped hands. You let the rabbit sniff at your fingers just as he did, only reaching to scratch gently between her ears after gaining her approval. Her ears sink back to their relaxed position as she accepts the attention 

‘Snowbell you said?’ you question leaning across his desk to give her the attention she deserves. ‘She is terribly sweet, I can see why you picked her.’ you continue with a genuine smile that he can’t look away from. ‘Well I better get to work so we can make sure this little lady has the perfect home.’ You turn away but pause, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to Snowbell's head, holding his gaze as you do. He has never been so thankful for his Papal paints before as he feels his cheeks uncharacteristically heat up as they turn and leave his office. ‘Papa, Cardinal.’ 

‘Farewell! Now Papa…’ Copia, oblivious to the unspoken exchange, had continued his running commentary of upgrades Snowbell would need but all Secondo could think about is if he would ever get a kiss of his own. 

And so he had gone from not even knowing of your existence to you in and out of his office every few days asking his opinion on all types of things and bringing hand made pieces of what was looking to become a palace for his new companion. He hadn’t admitted it to Copia yet but it did really seem like his idea was working. He had someone to care for now and even someone to talk to now, even if little Snowbell didn’t have much to say in return. It took just over two weeks for the cage to be completed, the grand opening attended by the talented creator themselves, Snowbell of course, himself, Copia, and Terzo. He couldn’t help the frown that grew when his brother waltzed into his office just in time, it was probably Copia who let it slip.

‘Secondo you sfigato!’ He entered with a shout. ‘I hear I have a niece and you have been keeping her from me?’ He looks around in his ridiculous flamboyant way and his frown only deepens when you giggle at his antics. Snowbell, the niece he thinks with an eye roll, is sitting in your arms. As you had worked so hard to build her new home he thought it only right that you get to let her in for the first time. Which means Terzo makes a bee line for you as soon as he notices. ‘So this is the cutie I have been missing out on eh?’ He asks with a smirk. ‘And then this is the rabbit.’ He lifts his eyebrows in a way he is sure he thinks is charming and he can’t help his scoff of indignation. Terzo manages to pull his attention away from the only person in the room he is able to flirt with and slings his arm around his older brother. 

‘My apologies fratello, please continue,’ he says in his exaggerated earnest way that has even Copia rolling his eyes. ‘This day is about you and of course Snowbell.’ 

‘Si,’ Copia interrupts before he can continue. ‘And it is time for her to see her new home. 

Secondo nods his agreement, giving you a small smile as you step forward to the open door and set Snowbell inside. She looks around the space before venturing forward, sniffing at the air. She hops in and around some of the toys inside before heading straight for her food bowl and staying put. The four of you stand watching for a while longer before realising that she has finished her exploration for now.  

‘Well that was a bit of an anticlimax,’ Terzo says at last with a sigh. ‘She clearly did not inherit the Emeritus talent for drama. Oh well.’

‘Shut up cazzone, Snowbell likes it very much I am sure.’ He can see you are a bit disappointed by the reaction and he would do anything to make you smile again. As you look up at him with a smile he realises that you no longer have reason to come to his office. The thought sends a shoot of pain through his chest and he panics knowing he needs to find a way to make sure you come back. ‘You should come and visit.’ He says abruptly, calling not just your attention but both his brothers as well. ‘Snowbell I mean, she will miss you.’ 

‘I will, of course, if Snowbell will miss me.’ You look down before looking back up at him through your eyelashes and his mouth goes dry. You turn to leave stepping backwards towards the door so you can hold his gaze. ‘Bye Snowbell, bye Papa.’ 

‘Good bye,’ he manages to say as he sees his brothers sharing a look out of the corner of his eye. When he is sure you are gone he doesn’t even bother to look at them, instead turning to the cage that now takes up the entirety of the wall. ‘Shut up and get out you two.’ For the first time in a long time they actually do as he says and leave him be, even shutting the door behind them. Snowbell had finally finished her meal coming up to sniff his fingers as he toyed with the bars. ‘Oh Snowbell,’ he whispers as he tickles her soft nose. ‘What is happening to me?’  

You are as good as your word, coming to visit Snowbell, but it is not enough. He gets brief glimpses of you in the halls but you always seem so busy. He would hate to be a burden. One day though inspiration drops from the sky on him, or at least from a high shelf. He is looking for a book to help with some latin translations and piles books out of the way so he can find the title when the bookshelf suddenly breaks away with an almighty crash. Typically this type of event would inspire kicking and cursing, but instead a grin pulls over his face. He has an excellent reason to get you here now. You come and fix it with all your skill far too quickly and then you are gone again before he can even build up the courage to talk to you properly. The next time it is a draughty window frame, then the squeaky door hinges and now here he is having deliberately broken the drawer of his desk to get you here. 

He has been staring too long he thinks, but he can’t look away, every time you stay a little bit longer, speak a little bit more but this time he is going to ask you to stay,or at least to come back later, for dinner or drinks or something. He opens his mouth to speak but his office door is slammed open and the last person he wants to see right now is standing in the doorway. Terzo looks around quickly noticing where Secondo’s eyes are trained and slaps his hand over his eyes with a gasp. 

‘Ugh brother if you are going to have siblings under your desk, at least put a sock on the door.’ he grumbles with disgust but doesn't bother to leave

‘Or you could not burst in,’ Secondo replies through gritted teeth. He was so close he was going to wring his brother's neck as soon as he got the chance. 

‘It’s only me Papa,’ you laugh as you pop up from behind the desk. Terzo looks between you and him back and forth with an entirely too smug look on his face but thankfully says nothing else. He pulls out one of the chairs next to Secondo’s desk slouching down as soon as he sits and folding his hands across his chest. ‘I will leave you both to it then,’ you say as you collect up your tools and head for the door, giving him one last sweet smile before leaving. 

‘What do you want then Terzo? ' he asks dejectedly, leaning back into his own chair. His brother levels him with one of his usual smug smirks and he is tempted to punch it for ruining his chance, that is until he next speaks.  

‘Why don’t you ask them to help you break the desk first next time, si?’ He sits there in shock for a moment as so many different feelings run through him. Predominantly though he is annoyed that his brother had figured him out so easily and then he hears a giggle from the door and his blood runs cold. 

‘Sorry to interrupt, but I forgot my screwdriver.’ You point to where it sits on the desk with the hand that isn’t covering your mouth but he can see the pink glow of your cheeks just above. He is frozen to the spot so Terzo reaches across and hands it over with a smirk. ‘But maybe I could come back for a screw next time,’ you laugh from behind your hand. Terzo barks out a laugh and he just sits there mouth open in shock as you take your screwdriver and flee. 

‘Well go after them then,’ Terzo says, snapping him out of his daze. He jumps out of his chair knocking it to the floor in his haste and scaring poor Snowbell if the sounds from her cage are anything to go by, hoping to find you before you get too far. He spots you just as you turn the corner out of the Clergy wing so he picks up speed not wanting to shout and draw too much attention.

‘Wait, por favore,’ he calls when he finally catches up to you. ‘What about tonight?’ You turn slowly, surprised that he has finally got the courage up to ask you but you look at him questioningly. ‘Not for a screw,’ he corrects, still trying to catch his breath from his rush. ‘Well maybe, I mean. Dinner first?’ He takes a deep breath so he can actually get his words out but you already look so happy, although he hopes you aren’t just laughing at him. ‘Would you join me and Snowbell for dinner? Tonight?’ He tries again, hoping that he isn’t about to make a fool of himself. 

‘I would love to have dinner with you Papa.’ There is such an obvious affection glowing in your eyes he doesn’t know how he hasn’t seen it before. ‘And Snowbell of course.’ You lean towards him, your hand drifting up to cup his cheek so you can guide him towards you. The kiss you press to his cheek is so soft but he feels incredibly content and desperate for more at almost the same time. You pull away far too soon but he can’t be annoyed about getting to see your happy smile again. ‘I will see you tonight.’ You say as you leave him there standing in the hall like a lovesick fool. Yes, tonight he thinks and he can’t wait.

[not-the-living-ghost]

Favorite episode from dbd?

My favorite episode is probably Episode 7. It's just such an emotional rollercoaster, from start to finish. There's the staircase scene, the Simon scene, the flashback to when Charles first met Edwin, and so, so much more.

The acting in this episode absolutely blew me away — specifically George Rexstrew's performance as Edwin — and the scriptwriting was absolutely phenomenal.

The cinematography was breathtaking and incredibly clever. I loved the way that they shot the different scenes in Hell, angling and twisting the camera to evoke whatever emotion was intended. There were so many different nuances and details that were added into this one episode — so much so that I'd probably have to make a post about about each one separately.

One scene in this episode that I think is thoroughly underappreciated is the scene with Simon and Edwin. This scene meant so much to me, as a queer person, especially as someone who's gone through a crap ton of internalized homophobia (although I can't say I've sacrificed any of my classmates to a demon over it). Seeing something like that portrayed in media in a way that was so real and raw was insanely meaningful to me.

I feel like this small subplot of the show perfectly represents how the show blends fantasy and reality. Dead Boy Detectives is a supernatural show with supernatural characters. The main characters are ghosts, their friend is a psychic, and they're constantly under the threat of an evil witch. However, the show tackles so many real life issues (issues such as homophobia, racism, and domestic violence), and they do it with a level of grace that perfectly balances fiction and reality. The Simon scene perfectly demonstrates this.

I also appreciated the way that the showriters went about dealing with Simon's internalized homophobia. Generally speaking, when people suggest that homophobes themselves are likely queer, they mean it as a joke, or an insult. "You're homophobic, so you must be gay," and they'll simply laugh at the disgusted reaction — which is, in it of itself, simply another provocation of homophobia. Dead Boy Detectives, however, went at this from a different angle. Because yes, homophobes themselves can be queer — internalized homophobia does not discriminate, ironically enough — but Dead Boy Detectives took this narrative and flipped it on its head. They took the common trope of the homophobe being secretly in the closet, and further delved into what that truly meant for everyone involved. They explored the destructive reality of internalized homophobia for someone like Simon without, at the same time, undermining the struggle and torment that Edwin was put through. And the fact that they did all of this in the span of just 10 minutes is absolutely mindboggling to me.

Episode 7 had a little bit of everything, and I loved it so so much <33

This post ended up being three paragraphs longer than I expected, and I went off on a bit of a tangent there, but this was fun to write 😭😭

[wildissylupus]

Ok I want to talk about Genji seeing Cassidy as a brother because I do think this has importance to Genji's arc. Specifically in Genji's journey in forgiving Hanzo and him realizing that not only Hanzo, but Cassidy too, have gone through a lot more then Genji himself realized at the time.

Let's start off with Hanzo, now it's no secret that Hanzo and Genji weren't close, especially later in life, but something I think is forgotten is that Genji was very unaware of what Hanzo was doing, how he felt and what he was going through. We see this in a few of their interactions;

Genji and Hazno, though they came from the same family, are from two very different worlds. Even after the amount of help Genji has gotten, when it comes to Hanzo he still seems to struggle a bit with understanding certain aspects of their past.

And though we don't see this shown at it's extreme with Hanzo, we do see it with Cassidy;

The first quote shows us that at the time Genji didn't really understand why Cassidy was upset, and when given an explanation (though simplified) he still didn't really empathize. Then the second one needs a bit more digging, see the first time we see Cassidy smoking in canon is in the Retribution after the Oslo attack and presumably after Liao death. After a traumatic incident. Now this may seem inconsequential but here's the thing, we see Cassidy and Genji banter in Retribution and we also see other characters be mentioned, so why would Genji not make a quip about Cassidy smoking if he had done it for awhile, or at the very least not mention at any point that Angela wanted him to stop.

To me the second quote from Storm Rising is Genji talking about a more recent development, or at the very least Cassidy smoking more frequently after Retribution (I don't blame him).

Now this isn't to blame Genji, during his time with both Hanzo and Cassidy he was going through his own issues, but it is important to note because Genji probably only realized what Cassidy was going through while he was with Zenyatta. Which would have lead him to think about other things he missed. Like the presure that Hanzo was under, the things about Hanzo that he missed before.

This point is even furthered by Genji seeing Cassidy as a brother because imagine the guilt he felt?

Imagine realizing you made the same mistake twice but with the second time you don't hold that same anger towards the person?

It also seems that Genji never really showed how much Cassidy really meant to him back during the first Overwatch. We also see that Genji takes a similar tone with Cassidy as he does with Hanzo, except with Cassidy it isn't just a short conversation but Genji seemingly wanting to help Cassidy deal with some of his issues and rectifying the mistake Genji made in the past.

And I honestly like the contrast this gives to the dynamic presented between Genji and Hanzo. From what I've found Genji and Hanzo only really have quick two line interactions, not only that but there more statements then Genji trying to help Hanzo through his issues.

And honestly I like this more then the common take of Genji being the one to help Hanzo through his issues, because Genji shouldn't have to. Yes Genji didn't notice the pain Hanzo was in, but Hanzo tried to kill Genji. It shouldn't be Genji's responsibility to help Hanzo. It's honestly why I like that Hanzo and Kiriko are being paired up more, Hanzo still does need someone to help him and it can't really be anyone new to him, so Kiriko is probably the best option.

Any way that's a little tangent from me today!

[al-the-remix]

Random fandom thoughts/feelings

The reblog button is turned off on this post but I think it's another incredibly important one to be thinking about. I enjoy their framing of how the profit economy of other social media sites has been bleeding into fandom spaces on both tumblr, and like this post focuses on, Ao3. It's something that I've been noticing more and more and it really rubs me the wrong way and I feel like OP's post words it perfectly in a way I've been struggling to express.

This sort of connects the previous post I reblogged on the topic talking about how fandom is not a good in road for becoming internet famous.

A facet of this that's really bamboozled me recently is that I feel like i've been seeing more and more of is the idea that a singular person has a right to call "dibs" on a specific piece of media. Which is honestly totally fucking wild to me and if I'm being totally frank kind of dumb.

Every single one of us who interacts with fandom and by extent and IP is flirting with copy right law, the consequences of which everyone should be extremely familiar with by now with the fall of LJ and various lawsuits by authors, dmca notices, etc.

We have all heard the adage "there's no such thing as an original idea"; the idea that everything we create is the amalgamation of all the things that influence us, good and bad.

This is totally normal and good, actually.

For example, if I and another person both watch a TV show, see a production photograph that we really like and decide to draw it and post them one after the other it would be considered extremely bad behaviour to then turn around and make a big stink about how someone else had the gall to turn around and draw the same thing that I did. We can all look at a picture, video, lyrics to a song, become inspired and create something wildly different based on our tastes and influences--but we also are equally, if not more so, likely to create something nearly identical to our peers, especially in a fandom space where ideas are concentrated and we are all consuming each other's thoughts, opinions, and creations. More than once I've come up with an idea for a fic or a drawing that someone else had had a nearly identical execution of without us communicating or viewing each other's work. That's just the way the human brain works, we're hard wired to make connections in a fairly similar way.

You do not have a right to call dibs on any one photograph, clip of video, song lyrics or any other bit of media you might consume.

This stands for artists, writers, gif makers, AMV creators, and any other way you choose to express your love of fandom creatively.

If you are really hard pressed to focus on the numbers and work at being ~influential~ the burden is on you to distinguish yourself creatively.

There's a reason why not being able to see follower counts is so important to the way fandom and tumblr functions. The concept of ~small creators~ and ~big creators~ or BNF or whatever are all burdens you place on yourselves. No one is taking anything away from you by engaging with the same bit of media you are in a similar way. We all have a right to express ourselves creatively and emotionally through any snippet of media that sparks our interest. You do not get to "own it" just because you happened to pump something out first. There are no creative "dibs". This isn't even some sort of "fandom" etiquette thing that has gone thus unspoken. It's a strange possessive thing that I've seen crop up more and more as the idea of being a capital "C" Creator brain rots people's minds and atrophies their ability to be creative.

Sort of on a tangent, but I have a bunch of other personal random thoughts about how this push to be prolific stagnates fandom, but these are more complicated for me and I'm not as clear on how I want to express them. On one had I am completely on board with the "there is no such thing as cringe" mindset and that everyone has a right to create whatever super indulgent thing they want to without having to suffer people being snobby about it. But, on the other hand I feel very strongly that the cycle of people seeing one trope or characterization being repeated repeated over and over and gaining popularity, reading only that--writing only that--leading others to also only consume that, really stymies creativity and makes it harder to grow the fandom if people that are trying to enter aren't into That One Thing, while also ostracizing people who are already in the fandom that aren't into That One Thing. I strongly believe that people's tastes are at least 70% just what they're exposed to, and obviously not everyone is going to be into whatever weird niche concept they're exposed to through fandom, but the more they are the more opportunity they have to expand that horizon. I don't know how many times I've gotten a version of the "I wasn't sure I would like this but I gave it a shot and it turns out I really love it!" and how good that feels and how much I wish other people were emboldened to do the same instead of being so wrapped up in how their work may or may not be received.

This is mostly a subjective thing though, so it's less cut and dry. Like for example, I really struggle with engaging with transgender fic despite being transgender myself because of the way most AFAB fic is written to the point where I avoid it now almost entirely. Which, frankly, really fucking sucks but also I will be the first person to fight for other's ability to write transgender characters wether they appeal my personal feelings and taste or not.

Anyway, this is one of the reasons I'm so protective of fandom community events, especially ones that employ aspects of the fandom gift economy such as exchanges. There are one of the few wholly un self-centred places left where the focus is on gifting someone something they will love and giving back to the fandom at large by flooding it with art and opportunities appreciation and engagement with each other. It is not supposed to be an opportunity for you to think about yourself and "getting something good" in return or using it a convenient deadline. It also offers you an opportunity to engage with fic tropes and genres that you've never considered writing or reading before.

TL;DR if you've found yourself recently squabbling over how many notes your gifs, art, writing, etc. has been getting compared to other people instead of focusing on forging community ties and your own creative expression, I'm sorry to say you're doing it wrong.

[dual-cetacean]

"Arthur Pendragon, the newly crowned King of Britton, is weary of the new life he leads. The battle that solidified his rule drained him of his vigour, and he aches to be carefree once more as he was as a mere squire. He treks into the Dark Woods to unwind from a stressful exchange of power. Unaware that this moonlit night would forever change his life."

Heyo! Here I am with the poll winner from last week (and a few more days)! It's Sonadow hours (Arthlot? I don't know their ship name, but it's King Arthur/Lancelot)

You can find the backstory for this fic under "Keep reading," as I go off on a tangent about its historyfic.

Please enjoy!

This fic is older than all of my other sonic fics. I am not kidding; I've had this draft lying around in my backlog for so long that I have screenshots of its layout and how I was supposed to present this on AO3. The date is September 2023, but my document files say December 2022. Since I usually type fics together in one document before deciding it can have its own document, so it is even older than that. This was supposed to be up ages ago, but I never found the courage and got swept away by the excitement of Sonic Prime. Even though I call myself a recent Sonic fan, that's not true. I grew up with Sonic X and read Sonic fan fiction on Fanfiction.net. (Oh, where has the time gone.)

Bit of a trigger warning for incest and statutory rape. As in mentioned, nothing is talked about graphically.

Now, while I am very particular about using canon as a guideline and knowing the source material like the back of my hand, this is one of my works where I will not do that. A lot of fucked up shit happens in the original compiled story of L' Morte d'Arthur (The Death of King Arthur). I will explain further in the ending notes of the fic, but for one, Arthur is aged up to 19 years old. As in the original legends, he is just called young, which is very vague. He is rewarded sex by a tavern woman for winning the battle, but it is implied she is much older than him. His age is unknown, but an opposing king calls him a beardless boy playing at being a king, and while there are plenty of men who grow a beard well into their adulthood or never, the implication of Arthur's youth and inexperience with life makes me deeply uneasy. So obviously, none of that shit is in here. Canon or not, fanfiction is here to have fun, and I won't write what makes my skin crawl.

I put this on the poll, not knowing if people would want to read this. But seeing as the poll was held on Tumblr, I should not have been surprised that it won by a landslide. I had forgotten how popular this niche ship is within the Sonadow community. And hey, I'm not complaining! I'm all too happy to share this. I read Sonadow since I was a teen, and Lansoni was a guilty pleasure of mine. I am all too happy to add to the collection! Although it is not really Lansoni as it is Sonic as King Arthur, and not actually Sonic being isikai-ed.

I am probably going to go on a SATBK binge after this. It is so weirdly nostalgic for me.

[teddy06writes]

Much Ado About Nothing

Alfie Solomons x fem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of drinking,

Premise: It's a Much Ado About Nothing AU, with Alfie as Benedick and Reader as Beatrice

Useful links: click here for a plot summary of the play, here for access to a version w/David Tennant and Katherine Tate, here for a proshot of a production at the Globe, and here for a wonderful video essay that discusses the plot and has a very insightful tangent about Judaism in Shakespeare.

{I've got a lot going on right now what with the production I'm in being in tech, plus even if I'm doing a simplified version of this, it's still quite a bit of work to go through the script bit by bit, I've decided that I'm going to just release the bit that I have done, and then if people really want more I'll do it in parts}

{Most dialogue is either directly quoted or paraphrased directly from the original text}

It was a beautiful day in the seaside town of Margate, and for the first time in years, you and your family were finally able to enjoy it. The war had been over for months, and with the arrival of spring, it felt like the world was finally alive again.

You were out lounging on the veranda with your cousin Esme, and her friend Ada, enjoying the fresh air when you heard footsteps coming down the gravel driveway. Esme sat up, in her deck chair, "Are we expecting company?"

"I didn't think so." You frowned.

Ada was already at the railing, peering around to try and make out who it was, "I don't recognize him- but he is wearing an army uniform!"

Esme let out a squeal, all but jumping up out of her chair and rushing over to look over Ada's shoulder. You let out a groan, reaching for your drink.

It only took a few moments for your uncle, Johnny Dogs to come bursting out onto the veranda, a letter in hand, and followed closely by Polly and the messenger Ada had seen, "I've learned, in this letter, that Tommy Shelby and his unit are coming to Margate, this very night!"

Esme let out another squeal, quickly chattering away to Ada, filling her in on the events of the Unit's last stop in Margate just before the war.

"He was very near by this," The messenger offered, "They were just getting into town when I left them."

Johnny Dogs nodded, "And how many gentlemen did you lose in this- action?"

"Our unit seems to oppose the rest of the war: we lost few of sort and none of name." The messenger said proudly. This prompted another little burst of excitement from Esme.

"A victory is twice itself when the achievers return home in full number."

Johnny aimed a pointed look at her, reading a bit more from the letter, "It says here, that Tommy has bestowed much honor on his younger brother John."

You chuckled as Esme went bright red, practically glaring back across the veranda with the look of someone caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"Much deserved on his part, and equally remembered by the Sergeant Major. He bore himself beyond the promise of his age, doing, in the figure of a lamb, the feats of a lion. He has indeed better bettered expectation than you must expect me to tell you." The messenger excepted the drink offered to him.

You pulled yourself up out of your chair, "I pray you, has signor Mountanto returned from the war, or no?"

The messenger turned to you with a frown, "I know none by that name, Lady."

"My cousin means that Captain Solomons from Camden town." Esme spoke up, glad the attention was finally gone from her and her crush.

"Oh, he's returned and as pleasant as ever."

You let off a scoff, "I pray you, how many has he killed and eaten in this war? How many has he killed, for I have sworn to eat all his killing."

"Niece, you tax Mr. Solomons too much." Johnny Dogs scolded.

Polly chuckled from where she'd taken up your empty chair, "But he'll meet with you, I have no doubt."

The messenger still focused on you, "He has done good service in the war, lady."

You raised an eyebrow, "You had stale food, and he helped you eat it. He's a very brave eater. He has good stomach for it."

"And a good soldier, too, Lady."

"And a good soldier to a lady," You shot back, "But what is he too a lord?"

"A lord to a lord, a man to a man, stuffed with all honorable virtues."

"It is so indeed," You nodded, punctuating your words with a sip from your drink, "He is no less than a stuffed man. but for the stuffing- well, we are all mortal."

"You must not mistake my niece, sir," Johnny Dogs interrupted, quickly explaining, "There is a kind of merry war between Mr. Solomons and her: they never meet but there is a skirmish of wit between them."

You groaned, "He learns nothing by that!"

"It's true enough." Ada teased.

You crossed to the rail of the veranda, leaning back against it, "In our last conflict, four of his five wits went halting off, and now the whole man is governed with one. So that if he have wit enough to keep him warm, it marks the difference between he and his horse. It is all the wealth he has left, to be known for a reasonable creature."

The messenger let out a laugh, "Truly?"

"Aye," You nodded, "Tell me, who is his companion now? He has a new sworn brother each month."

"Is it possible?"

"Very easily possible, he wears his faith like the fashion of his hat- it always changes with the next block."

"I see, Lady. The gentlemen is not in your books." The messenger nodded as if he finally understood.

"No, and if he were I would burn the whole library." You nodded in a agreement, "But truly, who is his companion? Is there no young man who make voyage to the devil with him?"

"He's mostly in the company of the younger Shelby brother: John." And as he gestured back toward Esme, who blushed again, you had to hand it to the messenger: he was a quick learner.

"Oh lord," You groaned, "He will hang upon him like a disease. Alife is sooner caught than the pestilence and the taker always runs mad. God help young John, if he has caught the Solomons it will cost him much to be cured of it."

The messenger chuckled, "I will hold friends with you lady."

You grinned, reaching out to clink your glass to his, "Do, good friend."

"And you'll never run mad niece?" Your uncle asked.

"No, not till a hot january." You quipped.

Before anyone else could retort, the sound of gravel crunch under tires filled the air, and Johnny Dogs was leading the way off the veranda and around the side of the house to meet the new guests.

There in the driveway, your little party was met with the grimmer one of Mr. Shelby. Thomas himself was leading the way towards the house from the cars, flanked by the others as he called, "Johnny Dogs, you've come to meet your trouble. You know the fashion of the world is to avoid cost, yet you encounter it."

Johnny Dogs let out a barking laugh, "Never came trouble to my house in the likeness of you and your good men. For trouble being gone, comfort remains and when you leave- sorrow abides and happiness leaves with you."

"You brace your charge too willingly." Still, Tommy allowed himself to be dragged into his hug. When they seperated, Tommy caught sight of the rest of the party, "Ah, then this your daughter, Esme."

"Her mother has many times told me so."

Finally disentangling himself from the ruckus being made by the soldiers now that they were out of Tommy's orders, Alfie appear at his side, "Were you in doubt sir, that you asked her?"

"Ah, Mr. Solomons, no, for then you were only a child." Johnny said, slapping him on the back.

"You have it full Alfie, and we can tell what kind of man you are for it," Tommy, turned making his way back to Esme, "Surely the lady fathers herself. Be happy lady, for you are like an honorable father."

"If Johnny Dogs be her father, then she would not have his head on her shoulders for all of Margate!" Alfie laughed, but the group had already moved away, as Tommy caught up with the rest of the household.

From where you had found a perch against the side of the house you sighed, "It's a wonder you will still be talking, Alfie. Nobody marks you."

"What-" Alfie slowly turned on his heel, taking in the sight of you, lounging in the sun, "My dear Lady Disdain- are you yet living?"

You smirked, raising your glass towards him mockingly, "Is it possible disdain should die when she has such food to feed on as Alfie Solomons? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if you come in her presence."

"Then is courtesy a turncoat. But, it is certain I am loved of all ladies, only you excepting," He wagged a finger in your direction, "and I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart- for truly, I love none."

"A dear happiness to women!" You cheered, pushing off the wall to stalk closer to him. "They would else have been troubled by a horrid suitor. I thank god and my cold blood that I am of your humor for that, I would rather hear a dog bark at a crow than a man swear that he loves me."

Alfie barked out a laugh, pointing a finger your direction, "God keep your ladyship in that frame of mind! So some gentleman or other can escape a scratched face!"

"Scratching could not make it worse, if it were such a face as yours."

"Well, you are a rare parrot teacher!" Alfie scoffed.

Your face suddenly felt hot, and you scrambled to retort, "Well better a bird of my tongue than a beast of yours!"

"I would my horse had the speed of your tongue and so a good continuer. But keep your way, in god's name, I am done." He all but waved you away, turning to follow as the rest of the company began to make their way into the house.

You sat for a long moment, watching him disappear, before shaking your head and making your way back around towards the veranda, muttering, "You always end with a jade's trick. I know you of old."

[goodnightoilcountry]

don't overthink when you could be loving me - sebastian aho (a sneakpeek !)

a/n: for months on end i've had so many fic ideas floating around in my head but just haven't put aside the time to properly flesh them out (wips list incoming !). it's been a battle trying to pick which one to start with but i've recently gone on a tangent of just exclusively seeking out canes fics and there's a bit of a drought in that area. so here's something new! (this sneak peek is also to keep me accountable lol)

summary: your inadvertent friendship with some of the canes players was not something you advertised in your day-to-day life. but an evening of friday night drinks changes that when you find yourself trapped in the same bar with your new co-workers and one love-struck sebastian aho who’s determined to make it known that you’re spoken for… well, tentatively that is. 

posted here: don't over think when you could be loving me

❂⁑❂⁑❂⁑❂⁑❂⁑❂⁑❂⁑❂⁑❂⁑❂⁑❂⁑❂⁑❂⁑❂⁑❂⁑❂⁑❂⁑❂⁑❂⁑❂⁑❂⁑❂⁑❂⁑❂⁑❂⁑❂⁑

You won’t lie - you weren’t always a big believer in keeping your personal life and work life separate. 

Despite the numerous warnings about how “your co-workers aren’t your friends”, you couldn’t help but become close to them no matter where you went. You’ve always felt like you’ve lucked out in that department.

The moment when your luck seemed to wear out was at your old office.

It didn’t start off any different than your previous roles. Everyone was cordial when you joined the team, you’d attend a few casual after-work drinks to not come off standoff-ish, and then a work dinner or event would eventually roll around where free-flowing drinks were guaranteed to loosen up everybody’s lips, including yours. 

It’s not like you would run around advertising the fact that you were family friends with Seth Jarvis growing up. But hockey culture was thriving in Raleigh and conversations couldn't pass without a mention of the Canes thrown into the mix. And more often than not, you were happy to pass on any unused tickets that Seth had reserved in your name every year. 

Of course, the first round of tickets, generally no one questions where they came from. But by the fourth round, who would believe that you just accidentally bought expensive seats not knowing you already had plans? 

So, it would eventually come to light that you knew the Canes more than just their names and the responses you would receive usually followed the same pattern. You’d get the looks of amazement and disbelief, followed by thirty minutes of inquisitioning, and then the excitement of the news would eventually fade before moving on to something salacious that had happened earlier that week. 

With this set of co-workers though, the news of your affiliation was volatile.

Suddenly, your tickets weren’t viewed as a generous offering but rather as a right. People in different departments whom you had never met started taking you out for lunches with a casual mention of how they hadn’t ever been to a live game; your boss expected you to give them up for the sake of appeasing potential clients; girls would invite you out with the hopes of them showing up to wherever you were. 

You resigned after four months. 

So when you signed your letter of offer for your new role, you made a silent promise to yourself to keep that portion of your life separate. So, you distanced yourself. 

Seth had noticed. He had known that you would occasionally give up your tickets when you knew you weren’t able to make a game. But as more and more weeks had passed, he had maybe seen your seats filled twice. Once by a few of your closest girlfriends and the other was when your parents had come to town for a long weekend. 

Outings with him and the team became infrequent as you declined to attend any sort of public event that would bear the risk of you being caught out by your new colleagues. And when you were eventually questioned why, you simply excused that your new job had you locked down. 

The second person to notice your increasing absence was Sebastian. 

Since Seth’s rookie days, you had been, on more than several occasions, his plus one to team events. And over the years, you had gotten to know some of the younger members who were able to keep up with Seth’s redbull-fueled energy. That included Sebastian. 

The first time you had actually properly spoken to him was at a Canes charity gala. Seth and KK had been swept into a conversation by a few board members, leaving you to quietly people watch from your assigned seat. 

“Refill?” 

You turned to find Sebastian with an arm extended out; a glass of champagne delicately sat between his fingers. You returned a gracious smile as he sat down in Seth’s seat. 

“You manage to avoid the noise fest?” you lightly poked, looking over at Seth where Andrei and Jack were now caught. 

He let out a laugh and shook his head while looking down, “I’ve definitely done my fair share of the sucking up.”

“You didn’t feel like joining your boyfriend?” 

You choked on your drink as soon as the assumption left his mouth. You couldn’t help but begin laughing as you coughed up a response, “Oh my god, no. Seth and I grew up together back home. Our parents were close friends.” 

His face flushed red at the revelation. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed because you’ve come to a few of these things with him before and you’re at our games a lot,” he tried to reason as he rubbed the back of his neck to ease the embarrassment. 

You shook your head with the same amused look donned across your face, “he’s really never mentioned that we grew up together as kids?”

“I’m sure he’s mentioned it but it’s hard to catch everything he says. He talks… a lot.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle at the blunt statement. 

You had found it easy to talk to Sebastian. The conversation flowed seamlessly, from the standard questioning of each other’s jobs to the shared ache of missing home. Before you knew it, Seth had returned with a sheepish look on his face; apologetic for his disappearance but not missing the flash of disappointment across his teammate’s face when you said goodnight. 

After that, the trajectory of your relationship with Sebastian had shifted into something more. Sure, you both became friends, growing comfortable in the presence of one another. But as time went on you couldn’t help but feel like the line between you two would occasionally go hazy; blurring completely on a big night out following a hard-fought win.

[kurosstuff]

I love your writing. Is it okay if I request Vampire!Emily x fem!angel reader headcanons? (or whatever you would like to write). Like reader helping her out with the difficulties being a vampire, being willing to help her with anything she needs. (If not, I just think Emily as a vampire is adorable. She'd feel so bad if she had to drink from her partner)

from 🪽 wing anon (idk if we do the emoji anon thing here)

IM- THANJ YOU IM GPAD YOU LIKE IT♡ THAT MEANS SO MUCH- Also I'm sorry for being radio silent

OMG- THATS Q GOOD IDEA JUST- Emily super nervous as hell too-

Oh yeah I do emoji anons here! Just tell em what you want and I'll do it♡♡

Warning(s) blood, vampire stuff, fluff!(?) Blood drinking(not descriptive really, I wanted it more of a fluffy thing. SHORT drabble

Short drabble i.. never wrote for Emily bur! I hope you enjoy it tell me if I got her erll? Honestly idk

Vampire! Emily x f!Angel!reader SHORT drabble: hungry

It took a month to figure out what was wrong with Emily. How odd she's been - how fidgety she'd been with you. Just that familiar flush on her face as she wants to ask something of you. But each time she chickened making up some excuse before rushing off once again

"Would you stop it? What is it dear?" You finally spoke yo after the third attempt of her coming up to you "if you have something to say go ahead. I'll listen! What is it?" Turning to her fully watching the familiar golden flush once she was "caught" again. How her wings flapped slowly in thought-

Humming, you stared as she opened and closed her mouth, unsure how to even ASK you whatever it was on her mind. Frowning you crossed your arms in thought. Fidgety.. nervous refusing to meet your eyes.. that guilty look?

Blinking it all clicked- making you feel guilty for how long shr must have gone. How you didn't pick up on it as quickly as you should have. Sighing softly you stood up moving close to your girlfriend- your mate

"Your hungry. Aren't you Emily?"

Watching her freeze unable to meet your eyes once you spoke of her hunger made you smile softly. Seems you were correct

"Y..yes, I am hungry i- I ran out of the bags! The shipment well- it's late won't be here for another-" and yet again began her rambles. Her attempt at making sense of why she didn't drink her "special drink"(what she'd prefer to call it) knowing how important it is to ensure she's fed.

Vampires are dangerous after all. No matter who it is. Even more dangerous is a starved one.

"My love.. I've told you~ I don't mind you feeding off of me~ I'll gladly allow it" you spoke softly cutting her off from her tangent. Knowing she won't stop until she tires herself out from how guilty she is.

She always felt guilty feeding off of anyone. Especially you- her lover. So her outright(not really.. attempting to) ask you for permission? She must be starving.

"Are you... sure?" She whispered softly moving to hold your hands kissing your knuckles softly frowning her eyes glowed brighter then usual. Clearly starving. With a comforting tug you pulled her close tilting your head for her to see your bare neck. A slow grumble escaped her as it always did when she got like this.

The warning sound

"Go on~ eat~ have your fill~" you purred softly. And like that. In a flash she was on you- making you hiss softly as she began to feed. Not even warning. You frowned- how long had she gone if she didn't do her usual? The kiss- the comforting words. But just bit down to feed. Rubbing her shoulders softly you hummed smiling softly as she pulled you even closer as if attempting to devore you through her body.

You weren't sure how long you were their for. How long she fed. How much she took. When you woke up, Emily was back to normal. Rushing around your shared bedroom. Looking for anything rambling "-I told you! If I get too much, tell me-!" Smiling you sat up ignoring g the ache in your neck. Knowjng from the off feeling she bandaged you up

"Darling?"

"I would stop! Would have helped! Oh lord, oh lord, I took too much -" rushing to make a fort like thing around you. With the pillows, she found before yelping seeing you up fully "oh.....oh my love.. are you ok? What do you need? Food? Water? What I'll get it for you!"

Slolwy, you held her hands softly, kissing her palms. "..for now I'd like to cuddle you~ my mate~", watching her wings poof up before nodding flushed getting into the bed curling into you softly "I'm ok. I promise.. just rest now ok? Rest.." you whispering softly kissing the top of her head gently