#a lot of ooc is just people projecting. that's the truth

[quidfree]

Your katsuki, shouto and todobaku pet peeves respectively (If you like reading them too)? And my sincere thanks for providing such precious gems called your fics 💖

honestly i don't read much bnha fic or even that much fic in general bc i'm usually too busy writing it. and when i do read fic it's for weird very niche/dead fandoms or pairings i feel like lol.

but my pet peeves are always just any measure of OOC, with differing levels of tolerance for certain choices. let me see what's some questionable stuff i've come across uhhh

katsuki:

aggro sexy dom daddy vibe... especially when it involves any kind of pet names. no this guy would not be calling anyone 'baby girl'. he is not a tiktok mafia au trend.

on the other end of the spectrum, complete soft baby blushy tsundere. he told midoriya to jump off a roof bc he had no future in middle school okay he is... not that.

either way too dramatically brooding/'emo' or completely lacking self awareness. bonjour nuance

also just get his friendships right please. you should be able to make him part of a solid friend group without it feeling like a completely different person. like i think he'd be a very good friend down the line but that doesn't mean i can see him being #goofy besties with everyone.

shouto:

well similar to above either making him too cutesy soft and fragile (todoroki shouto? certified bad motherfucker todoroki shouto? backtalks cops and throws people out of arenas via icebergs? nah) or making him just like. extremely bland stoic. he has a personality y'all.

trying too hard to make him like.. #relatable or sassy is also always a bit too obvious. like if it sounds like a joke someone on tiktok would made realistically shouto would not be making it yk. 'it's the trauma for meeee' i don't think so....

gotta strike the right balance for the family drama. it's bad for him but he's also really emotionally resilient.

todobaku:

when they're not funny/don't banter. have you met these mfs their every interaction is comedy gold.

like just OOC in general!!!!!! relationship content tends to warp either or both characters to fit a trope instead of bending a trope to fit the characters, which is just a waste. if it's not fundamentally a relationship of equals instead of one strong/one needy chara i'm not interested and that's that.

them having very... 'basic' relationship dynamics where they're netflix romcom vibes and have like normal dating progression. first of all adapt romance to the people involved, but also i just do not believe that like. todoroki would be out there texting anyone 'baby ily sm <3333' yk what i mean.

either party being angst central dramatics for the other person to sentimentally ~fix~ as if they don't share the vast bulk of their trauma / have similarly stoic ways of dealing with angst. i'm all for h/c but not melodrama. especially don't enjoy when people add random shit to canon to justify drama like sexual abuse. just not for me

this isn't even about todobaku specifically but i've never seen a good ABO fic in my life. and i do say 'see' because i admittedly tend to not get past the descriptions.

ok that's all i can think of off the top of my head. but please feel free to tell me about the worst ones you've encountered i love to hear people's horror stories.

[gothcsz]

Motive | Pornstar!Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | Part 3 of Unscripted Desire | ~10k wc | Series Masterlist | gif cred | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Another chaotic shoot... but at least it's in Malibu?

Tags: more plot keeps sneaking into the porn, angst, frankie has entered the villa, jealous!javi, reader stands on business, it's a porn set other people are also fucking, masturbation on camera (m), dirty talk, lots of cursing (f bombs my beloved), an attempt at a blowjob, javier can't get it up, a dash of misogyny, author projects her ooc thoughts about problematic age gaps in the porn industry, no use of y/n, reader has a degree in film production, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: me nervous that part 3 isn't going to live up to the hype? more likely than you think! 🙂‍↕️ this fic is taking on a brain of its own and i'm just along for the ride, baby! for my just the tip stans— i'm sorry but i'm going to have to edge you until part 4 *crowd boos and i'm dragged off stage* i was going to wait to post this, but i really wanted to get it out because i'm so damn proud of it lowkey, lol, so i hope you all like it 🖤 let a bitch know what ya think! also, shoutout to my pookie @persephone-girl for reading over this 💋 love u mamas

Your phone’s shrill ring pierces through the haze of sleep, and you groan in frustration, burying your face deeper into the pillow.

The comforter is pulled tight over your head, shielding you from the annoyingly bright sunlight filtering through your window. Your hand shoots out, fumbling blindly across the bedside table until your fingers finally close around the receiver. 

“What?” you grumble, voice thick with sleep and muffled beneath your sheets.

“There she is! My beautiful, talented camerawoman. Have I ever told you how much I appreciate what you do?” Robbie’s overly cheerful voice blares through the phone, so you pull it back from your ear slightly, wincing.

“Why are you calling me this early in the morning?” you snap, already regretting picking up.

“Early? It’s almost noon—”

“What do you want, Robbie?” You cut him off, not in the mood for small talk, especially since last night’s bar shift ran past four in the morning. You were hoping to sleep through most of the day, recovering in your bed with no interruptions. Clearly, that plan has gone out the window.

“Look, I’ve got a big shoot happening in Malibu today and I’m short-staffed. I could really use your magic touch behind the camera.”

“No.”

 “C’mon,” he drags the word out, “I’ll make sure you’re well compensated for working on your day off.”

You rub your eyes, the remnants of sleep still clinging to you. “How much?”

He tosses out a number, and despite your best effort to remain indifferent, your eyes widen. Damn. That’s more than decent money.

“Malibu’s all the way across town,” you point out, “I won’t make it there in time if I take the bus. And a taxi? That’ll cost me a fortune.”

“Don’t worry about that. Your ride’s outside waiting for you.”

You blink, confused, and get out of bed, dragging the corded phone with you as you move toward the bay window. You pull the curtain back just enough to peer down at the busy street below.

Sure enough, Steve is there, leaning casually against his Jeep with sunglasses on, a cigarette between his lips. The second he spots you looking down, he grins like the cheshire cat and waves.

“Seriously?” you mutter to Robbie, flipping Steve off with a half-hearted smile. “And what if I’d said no?”

“We both know you wouldn’t have.”

After a few more quick exchanges, you hang up, glancing once more at your ride through the window before turning to rush and get yourself ready for the day ahead.

Truth be told, you’re still not fully awake, your body moving on autopilot as you shuffle through your morning (midday) routine.

It’s been ages since you’ve been to the beach— especially one as nice as Malibu’s. The thought of it softens the blow of losing your rest day. You tell yourself you’ll make the best of it, turning this unexpected workday into something that benefits you, too.

After shooting wraps, you’ll indulge in a quiet evening by the shore, sinking your toes into the warm sand with a good book in hand. No rush to head back. This time, you’ll gladly take a taxi if it means getting some peace seaside.

With that plan in mind, you dress for the day accordingly. Your halter-style bathing suit doubles as a cute top, the color complimenting your skin, while your favorite denim shorts sit comfortably over your bikini bottoms.

You pack a few essentials into your beach bag and make sure to grab your camera bag as well. Once you’ve double-checked that everything’s packed, you make your way downstairs, feeling a bit more awake now.

Steve catches sight of you approaching and flashes a dramatic grin, straightening up like he’s about to chauffeur royalty.

“Your chariot awaits,” he announces with an exaggerated flourish, swinging the passenger door open.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the bemused laugh that escapes your lips. “God, you’re ridiculous,” you mutter, shaking your head as you climb into the seat, tossing your beach bag onto the floor.

He shuts the door behind you with a smirk. “Ridiculous? I prefer charmingly dedicated to my craft.” He hops into the driver’s side, flicking the cigarette away before starting the car.

You snort at his self-satisfaction, leaning back against the seat and putting on the seatbelt. 

“Malibu, huh? How the fuck did he manage to swing that?”

He chuckles, one hand lazily draped over the wheel, the other tapping out a rhythm on his knee. “He didn’t tell me much either— just asked me to stop by and pick you up on my way.”

That makes sense. Robbie’s always been a bit scatterbrained, occasionally running around like he’s managing a multi-million-dollar empire when, in reality, he’s holding it together with duct tape and half-assed enthusiasm.

The drive is surprisingly fun, Steve’s constant jokes keeping your spirits high. He always manages to make you laugh, which is why you tolerate his quirks. 

“I’m pretty sure Javi’s going to be there,” he says, almost too nonchalantly, meaning he’s in the mood to be messy.

You keep your gaze focused on the coastline, watching as palm trees blur past. The wind from the open windows has you squinting momentarily, but it can’t cool the sudden heat spreading through your body. 

“It’s not going to be weird seeing him, right?” He presses and you finally turn to face him, moving your sunglasses to the top of your head.

“Why would it be weird?” you ask, the challenge clear in your voice.

He shoots you a look, brows raised and lips quirked in that irritating way of his. “Oh, I dunno. Maybe ‘cause of the whole flirtin’ with you during the middle of a scene thing? Or, y’know, the elevator incident�� which, by the way, what the fuck even happened there?” He glances at you, curiosity practically oozing out of him.

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, but you can’t stop the way your thighs rub together at the memory. 

Javier’s mouth... God. “None of your damn business.”

“Don’t tell me you fucked him.”

You laugh, loudly, the sound bordering on forced. “Absolutely not.”

He shoots you that okay, sure look, and you groan internally.

Steve’s like a dog with a bone when he gets curious, and you know he’s not going to let this go until you give him something. You sigh, deciding to indulge him— partially. 

“He was being an asshole,” you start, and he immediately interjects with, “Nothing new there,” causing both of you to share a laugh at Javier’s expense.

You shake your head, returning your sunglasses to the bridge of your nose. “No, seriously. He was pushing my buttons, being his usual peacock self. I don’t even know how it escalated, but one moment we’re arguing, and the next... he’s got his tongue in my pussy.”

Steve chokes on his own spit at your bluntness. He’s heard and seen much worse on set, yet your confession has him all tripped up. 

“So, you did fuck him?”

You roll your eyes again, shifting in your seat as the horny flashbacks hit you all at once— Javier’s lips wrapped around your clit, the perfect rhythm of his tongue, his fingers.

You shove those thoughts away, focusing on the road ahead, annoyed at both Javier and Steve now. “Getting head isn’t fucking. It’s, like, third base. And anyway, I made it clear— that’s all he was getting from me. I’m not about to waste my time rolling around in bed with him.”

He gives you a look— a knowing look— and you scoff, shaking your head. “What now?” 

“Nothing. You’re just the first person I’ve heard say that about him.”

“Someone’s gotta humble his ass,” you mutter, though the words feel heavier than they should. You try to act like you’ve put Javier out of your mind, like that moment was nothing but a blip in your life, but deep down, you know it’s not that simple.

You’ve never met anyone like him, and the fact that he can elicit such reactions from you pisses you off so bad.

As the coastline stretches out in front of you, Malibu drawing closer with every mile, you can’t help but wonder if seeing Javier today will be as easy as you’re pretending it will be.

The mansion is far more extravagant than anything you could have imagined. Its grand facade, with towering columns and ivy crawling up the sides, feels like something out of a movie set, and for a second, you almost forget why you’re here.

But then, as soon as you step past the threshold, you hear it— echoing from deep within the house are the unmistakable sounds of exaggerated moans, grunts, and the rhythmic thump of bodies meeting.

You adjust the strap of your camera bag on your shoulder, your beach bag abandoned in Steve’s car. As you step further into the foyer, Robbie appears, that infamous smirk plastered on his face.

“Long way from home, aren’t you, Dorothy?” he jokes, taking in your wide-eyed amusement as you scan the expensive decor— the towering glass chandelier overhead, the marble floors gleaming beneath your feet, the floor-to-ceiling windows.

You can’t help but be a little impressed. 

But of course, he’s there to give you shit about it. You turn your wide-eyed gaze into a glare, bringing your attention to him. “So funny. You should quit your current sleazy day job and take up another sleazy one— stand up,” you reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

He just grins, unbothered by your sharp tone. “You’re always a joy to work with. No wonder Javi asked for you specifically.”

Your entire demeanor shifts viscerally and you curse yourself for it mentally, caught completely off guard. “Wait, what? Javier asked for me?”

He shrugs, indifferent to your confusion. “Yeah. He’s set for a solo shoot upstairs in one of the bathrooms before he’s on with...” He snaps his fingers, trying to remember. “...Mariella. Real pretty girl, it’s her first on-camera gig today.”

The world blurs a little as your mind zeroes in on that one bit of information: Javier asked for you. And not just for any shoot— a solo one. You blink, shaking your head to clear the fog. “I’m sorry, can we go back to the part where I was summoned here by someone who isn’t my boss?”

“Oh yeah, he made a real fuss about it. Sent away the other guy we had lined up for the shoot. Told me he wouldn’t do it unless you were behind the camera. Even offered to pay out of his own pocket just to get you here. It’s the only reason we’re paying you as much as I promised over the phone.”

Your stomach twists and you can feel your face settling into a deep frown, the kind that pulls some of your mood down with it. So that’s why he dangled such a big paycheck in front of you this morning.

After the elevator incident (as Steve has so eloquently named it), after the intense heat of his mouth on you, the way he had you— he said he’d leave you alone. He was supposed to respect the boundaries you set, but here he is, yanking you back into his orbit. 

You can already picture him upstairs, lounging in one of those stupidly lavish bathrooms, probably smirking that damn smirk of his, waiting for you.

You try to squash down the way your pulse quickens at the thought, the lingering memory of his fingers digging into your hips, his tongue working between your thighs, is beckoning you into temptation again.

“Fucking great,” you mutter, more to yourself than your boss. You have half a mind to storm up those stairs, find the pornstar, and give him a piece of your mind before marching right back out to spend your day on the beach— free of drama and distractions and him.

But the reality is, you’re being paid nearly three times what you’d normally make on a gig like this. It’s enough to drown out the temptation to walk away, however satisfying that would be.

You’re an adult. You’ve dealt with worse. You can handle this.

Robbie gives you a sidelong glance, clearly sensing your hesitation. “You’re not backing out, are you?”

With a sigh, you force a smile and shake your head. “As good as it’d feel to leave, no, I’m not. I’ll be up in a sec.”

Relief flashes across his face, and he gives you a few pointers before rushing off into this maze of a house.

You linger for a second longer, taking a deep breath to shake off the nerves. Come on. Get it together. After a final mental pep talk, you head toward the grand staircase that winds up to the second floor. 

The sight that greets you at the top of the stairs stops you in your tracks: Lexxie is splayed out on her back atop some console table, currently getting the life fucked out of her. The visual is chaotic but nothing new. You’ve seen it a hundred times before. 

A guy with a scruffy beard and a beat-up baseball cap stands behind the camera, looking more bored than impressed, barely watching as the two stars go at it.

You lean against the nearby railing, your voice cutting through their heavy breaths and grunts. “Guess your marriage to Javier didn’t last very long,” you tease from off camera, referencing the honeymoon shoot.

The star’s eyes snap open at the sound of your voice, and she flashes you a playful, almost sweet smile in between heavy breaths. “Kinda regretting stepping out on him—oh, fuck.” Her snappy comeback dissolves into a breathy moan as the guy currently rearranging her on the table pushes her legs up to her chest, hitting just the right spot. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to ruin your shot,” you say, throwing a glance at the cameraman, knowing how annoying it can be when someone messes with your focus.

He waves it off with a lazy shrug. “It’s not ruined. Honestly, I would’ve quit filming ten minutes ago. It’s starting to drag. I’m impressed they’re still going.”

You let out a small laugh, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, they’ve got stamina like you wouldn’t believe. Makes me feel lazy in bed sometimes, but then I remember how unrealistic this shit actually is.”

He chuckles, scratching at his jaw. “Should make it an Olympic sport. Bet we’d bring home gold.”

“Pretty sure that already exists and it happens in the Olympic Village.” You smirk, finally peeling your eyes away from the couple to look at him properly.

He’s cute in that disheveled, stray-dog kind of way. His curls poke out from under a worn baseball cap, his beard patchy, and his clothes rumpled, like he just rolled out of bed and threw on the first thing he could find. He fits in perfectly with the kind of guys you’d expect on a porn crew.

Earning a genuine laugh from him, he extends a hand. “I’m Frankie.”

You shake it, offering your name in return. “I’m also part of the crew. About to go shoot a scene in the master bathroom.” You explain, noticing how his grip lingers just a little, his smile playful and easy. You feel a bit of warmth rush to your cheeks, and he’s about to say something when—

“Oh fuck, I’m about to cum!” Lexxie’s voice is piercing, loud and breathless, pulling your attention back to the scene.

You shake your head, stifling a laugh. “Well, that’s my cue,” you mutter, stepping out before you get too caught up flirting with him.

“Nice meeting you,” he says before dismounting the camera, moving in closer to capture the so-called money shot.

Cute. Too cute. It’s almost enough to make you forget about the man you’re about to see.

You push open the door to the room Javier’s in, and the sight of him has you doing a double take.

He’s standing in the middle of the room with nothing but a white towel hanging dangerously low on his hips, his defined Adonis belt drawing your eyes in a way you hate to admit.

His toned, brown torso glistens with the thinnest layer of sweat, the sunlight pouring into the room making him look like he’s glowing.

You need to toughen up, and in order to do so, you have to bitch at him. It’s the only way to keep that lustful cavewoman instinct away.

“You’re a piece of work,” is what you settle on, making sure to let your tone really punctuate how annoyed you are by the stunt he pulled today.

The second his eyes lock onto yours, amusement flickers behind them, as if he’s been waiting for this confrontation.

He quirks a brow, lips curving into a lazy smile. “¿De que hablas nena—?”

“What happened to ‘if you don’t want me anymore, I’ll leave you alone’? Was that something you said just to lower my guard? To get me to give you what you want?” You cut him off, keeping your distance even as you notice him inching closer.

Your eyes are daggers as they bore into him, and for a brief second, you hope he feels at least some of the fire burning in your chest. But if he’s affected, he doesn’t show it. He is frustratingly calm, like he’s above it all.

“You gave me no indication that you didn’t want me anymore.” His voice is casual, almost patronizing.

You groan as you throw your hands up in exasperation. “I literally said, ‘Hope you got your fix because it’s never happening again.’ What the fuck else do I have to say or do to get you off my back?”

Silence settles between you two as you stand there staring each other down. He’s unreadable, watching you with an intensity that makes your skin tingle.

“Well?” you demand, impatient.

“In my defense— it didn’t sound very convincing.” You stare at him incredulously before turning on your heel. Hell no. He can keep his money and his bullshit. You’re not doing this.

But just as your fingers graze the doorknob, his voice sharpens with a hint of panic, calling your name.

“Wait, look,” he starts, running a hand through his hair, “I’m not trying to start anything. I just thought—” he pauses, searching for the right words. “I’d feel more comfortable if you were behind the camera during this shoot. Not the other guy Robbie brought in.”

Frankie? He seems so harmless, and besides, Javier’s never had an issue with whoever’s in the room when he’s filming, so why is it a problem now?

However, his tone does sound sincere. You turn to face him again, narrowing your eyes and refusing to let your guard down. “This better not be another one of your tricks, Javier. If you’re doing this to try and get into my pants—”

He almost grins, but catches himself just in time, clearly biting back a remark. You can see it in the way his mouth twitches, and you know exactly what he’s thinking. Already have, his brown eyes seem to say. But he holds his tongue, offering a faint nod instead. 

“I promise. No tricks. Just a professional shoot. That’s it.”

You give him one last warning glance before sighing. “Fine. But I’m telling you, Javier—”

“I know, I know,” he interrupts, holding up his hands. “I get it and please stop calling me Javier.”

You arch a brow. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but everyone calls me Javi.”

Ugh, whatever. “Okay, fine, Javi. Just show me where I’m supposed to set up.” 

He bites back another grin and motions you with a flick of his head, and with the weird tension simmering, you follow him toward the ensuite bathroom. The door creaks open, revealing an elaborate setup, and you pause in the doorway, eyes widening.

It’s surprisingly... beautiful.

In front of a massive window that overlooks the sprawling blue ocean outside, there’s a porcelain clawfoot bathtub filled with what looks like a milk bath. Various colored flower petals float delicately on the surface, scattered in an almost artful arrangement.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Well, damn. This actually looks nice.” This bathroom is bigger than your entire apartment.

Javier notices your reaction and leans against the doorframe to the connecting walk in closet, arms crossed over his bare chest, a smirk playing on his lips. “Catering to the female gaze,” he says with a cocky shrug, “At least, that’s what my agent told me. Seems like I’m very popular among the ladies.”

The way he says it makes you want to smack him upside the head. He’s pushing your buttons again in the most subtle way, and you hate how good he is at it.

“Cute,” you reply dryly, walking past him to set your camera bag down on the large counter.

As you begin to unpack and set up, you can feel his eyes on you, watching your every move, lingering on the exposed skin of your back then dripping down to your legs.

It kind of feels good to have him ogling you like this. The whole look but don’t touch thing is really doing it for you, more than you’d care to admit. There’s a certain power in keeping him wanting, yet also forcing the distance.

“It’s not just about the ladies, you know. I actually want this to be good. I trust you to make it look that way.”

You glance over at him. His playful arrogance has slightly faded, shaded in by the genuine want to make this feel more than just some raunchy scene.

“I’m not a director, I just film it,” you remind him, adjusting the camera lens as you try to play it off. “So just do whatever you think is right. Robbie gave me some pointers, but it wasn’t much.”

“Still,” he presses, “there’s some finesse to what you do.”

At least he’s aware of that. “Let’s just get this over with,” you say, deflecting the compliment.

You finish setting up the camera, adjusting the tripod to get the perfect angle. It’s important to capture the full picturesque scene to begin with— the soft light spilling in through the window, the sparkling blue ocean in the background.

You clear your throat, “Okay, I’m all set for whenever you’re ready.”

Javier moves casually as he unwraps the white towel from around his waist. His cock, already half-hard, demands your attention, but you force yourself to look away. You rub your lips together then lick at them unconsciously, trying to focus on anything other than his naked body.

“Got plans after this?” he asks as though he’s asking you about the weather.

You blink at the normalcy of the question “Just going to hang out by the beach,” you reply plainly, trying to keep your focus on the camera and not on his crotch.

It almost feels strange talking to him like this, without the usual teasing or sexual tension-laden bickering.

“Sounds fun,” he says as he steps into the tub, the water sloshing around him. “Real nice out here. The weather is perfect for it today.”

You watch as he settles in, the milky water rising around his body, and for a moment, you’re completely mesmerized.

The scene in front of you looks like something out of a romantic painting, and it hits you how undeniably beautiful he looks. His skin, a warm golden brown, contrasts perfectly with the creamy white of the bath, and the colorful flower petals floating on the surface make the whole thing look like a dream.

He leans back, the water just kissing his chest, and you catch yourself imagining what a soft, hazy vignette filter would do to the shot, how it would add an enchanting glow to an already intimate scene.

You shake your head slightly, snapping yourself out of the reverie. You’re supposed to be filming him jerking off, not admiring the aesthetics like this is some fine art shoot. But fuck, it’s hard to separate the two when the visuals are this damn good.

Javier, of course, senses your brief distraction. He watches you, eyes thoughtful as he stretches out, letting the water ripple around him. He doesn’t say anything, but there’s a slight smirk playing on his lips, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

You take a deep breath, trying to focus on the task at hand, despite the heat pooling between your thighs. “Is there a clear direction for this scene, or are you just improvising?”

“I’m just winging it,” his voice is a rich, velvet drawl, a little rough from all the smoking he does. “No dirty talk. They want my natural noises to be the main focus… amongst other things.” He cocks his head to the side, one arm coming up to rub at the back of his neck.

Heat blooms low in your belly, shooting straight to your cunt at the sight. The way his bicep flexes, the muscles shifting smoothly beneath that taut, sun-kissed skin, showcasing just how defined he is while still looking so maddeningly soft. 

Calm down, girl, you silently reprimand your pussy. She’s fucking purring right now.

You clear your throat and give him a nod, signaling him to begin. Stepping behind the camera, you focus through the lens, grateful for the distance.

Javier moves slowly. His head tips back against the edge of the tub, eyes falling closed, the soft curve of his lashes fanning out like shadows against his skin. One hand trails down, lingering at the hollow of his collarbones. The movements are unhurried, almost reverent, as though he’s savoring the feel of his own skin.

The intimate build-up draws you in, despite your best efforts to remain detached.

You unmount the camera from its tripod after a few moments, stepping closer to him, framing the shot tight around his chest, the slow glide of his hand along his torso. You can’t help but notice the pounding of your heart, each beat mirroring the steady, throbbing pulse at your clit. 

The sight of him— relaxed, fully in his element, bathed in the soft glow of light— stirs that fucking feeling deep within you.

It’s not just desire, though that’s certainly there. It’s the maddening awareness of how sensual, how magnetic this man is. And even though you try to tell yourself you’d feel the same about any other attractive man in his place, you know that’d be a damn lie.

Javier’s hand moves lower, ghosting over the ridges of his soft stomach. His other hand trails slowly through the water, sending gentle ripples through the milky bath. You swallow hard and focus the lens on his face— the slight parting of his pouty pink lips beneath his trimmed mustache that you just now realize has a small patch right above his cupid’s bow.

Even his imperfections are attractive.

The flushed skin of his cock makes an appearance, his thick, swollen head breaking the surface of the water with each subtle movement, teasing you and the camera. The way it peeks through, the slick tip glistening in the milky bath, almost feels like a taunt— winking at you.

Doing as you’re supposed to, you adjust the lens to zoom in on the way his cock flirts with the surface.

If you were anyone else, one of his usual co-stars maybe, you’d lean down and give it a few kitten licks. You’d tease the sensitive crown with your tongue, circling the tip before letting it slide past your lips— just enough to drive him wild.

Your tongue twitches at the thought.

A soft groan escapes his lips as he gets closer to where he’s aching to touch. It’s as if he can read your mind, as if he knows you’re imagining the feel of his cock in your mouth, the taste of his salty skin, the way he’d twitch against your tongue as you tease him until he begs for more.

Maybe he’s picturing your lips wrapped around him, too.

You bite down on your lower lip, forcing yourself to stay quiet, to stay focused, even though your body is betraying you. The mess in your panties, the way your nipples stiffen beneath your bathing suit top— everything about this moment is dangerous.

Then finally, his fist wraps around his cock, a soft slosh of water accompanying the motion. The eroticism of the scene— paired with the proximity, the memory of those hands on you— ignites that annoying need deep inside.

He strokes himself slowly, eyes still closed as though lost in the pleasure of it all. You focus the camera on his hand, on the way it moves with purpose, his thumb brushing over the head of his cock, slick with precum.

His groans start to fill the air, and your own body reacts, hips shifting slightly as you try to ignore pressure at your cunt.

“Still with me?” His voice cuts through the silence, raspy and knowing, eyes fluttering open to look at you.

Oh. Have they always been this golden?

“Yeah,” you’re proud of yourself for keeping your voice steady.

Javier’s body is pure, unfiltered sin in motion. As you move around the bathtub to capture every angle, you can’t help but admire him. His muscles shift with every slow pump of his hand, the sinewy lines of his arms and torso rippling just beneath the milky water.

His stomach contracts with each exhale, drawing your gaze lower to the faint trail of hair leading down to his cock, which you catch glimpses of when his hips buck up inadvertently.

His breathing grows heavier, his pouty bottom lip caught between his teeth, brows furrowing in concentration as his pleasure builds. It’s mesmerizing, the way his face contorts, his expressions almost too intimate, too personal for the lens. But you can’t tear your eyes— or the camera— away.

His fist moves with such confidence, touching himself with an unhurried rhythm that only a man used to his own pleasure can manage. Every time his thumb glides over the tip of his cock, a heavier grunt rumbles in his throat and it’s so hot.

You’re too focused on capturing every inch of him that it almost catches you off guard when he begins to speak.

“Wish it was your pretty hand around me right now, baby.” His voice is husky, laced with want, and the words hit you like a punch to the gut.

You blink rapidly, heart stalling in your chest as the camera wavers slightly in your hands. “Javier,” you sigh, his name slipping from your lips before you can stop yourself.

“Fuck, I know, but shit—” His words are more ragged now, spoken between heavy breaths. “You’re all I can think about still. You stay in my mind, muñeca. Can’t get you out.”

Even though every rational part of you knows you should stop him, should leave or at least say something to shut him up, you don’t.

You don’t run, you don’t protest. You just... let it happen.

“Talk to me, please.”

“I-I—” The words get stuck in your throat, “I can’t. I’ll ruin the shoot.” Why is that your priority right now?

“You won’t.”

The way he says it chips at the walls you've built around yourself.

“What do I even say?”

“Anything,” there he goes again, using that tone that makes him sound like he’s begging.

So, you say what you’ve been thinking of since he got into this damn tub. “Your cock is so pretty, Javi.” You purr, throwing all caution to the wind, lying to yourself that this means nothing.

The effect is immediate. He groans, a deep sound from his chest, and his hand moves faster over his shaft, the slickness of the water amplifying the movement. “Fuck,” he says, his breathing now erratic, “say it again.”

Your gaze flicks down and it’s mesmerizing watching the way his body responds to his own touch, but it’s the fact that he’s unraveling in front of you that leaves your mouth dry.

“Such a pretty cock, Javi,” you repeat, voice steadier this time, growing bolder with each passing second. Every flex and contraction of his body feeds the arousal pulsing in you. “I bet it would feel perfect sliding down my throat, hitting the back of it until I’m choking on you.”

All those hours spent listening to cheesy porn dialogue are finally paying off.

His head falls back, exposing the strong column of his neck, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. A guttural groan escapes him as the image of what you just said sets in. His other hand moves down to cup his heavy, swollen balls, the water around him rocking more violently now as he starts to lose himself in the fantasy.

“Shit… I’m close,” he growls, voice breaking with need, the words barely coherent. “Keep talking to me, fuck…”

You lean in slightly, the camera momentarily forgotten. “You want to come for me?” Your whisper is dripping with lust, the idea of him falling apart because of you making your pussy ache. “You want to make a mess? Pretend I’m kneeling right here, my mouth open and waiting for you to fill it, warm and wet just for you?”

You’ve seen him come so many times, watched him fill too many cunts with his spend and paint different parts of their pretty bodies— but none of it compares to the sight before you.

The way his body jerks in response tells you everything you need to know. His grip tightens on the edge of the tub, knuckles going white as he pumps faster, rougher, pushing himself toward the brink. His hips start lifting out of the water with every thrust into his own hand, chasing that final release.

“Fuck, yes…,” he groans, voice strangled, barely holding it together. His eyes squeeze shut, every muscle in his body tensing, going rigid as he falls over the edge.

His bilingual expletives cut off into a long, drawn-out moan as his cock twitches, thick ropes of cum spilling out in messy spurts, splattering against his fist, swirling into the milky bathwater. The petals float lazily across the surface, some clinging to his skin, as the evidence of his release drifts around him.

You stand there, heart pounding, frozen as your brain tries to catch up with your pussy.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, fumbling with the camera as you stop the recording. You quickly move to pack everything up and try your damndest not to look at him.

“Wait, don’t—” Javier’s voice is still hoarse, but there’s a touch of urgency to it now, breaking through the post-orgasm haze. You hear the water sloshing violently behind you as he moves, and you know he’s getting out of the tub. “Just… hang on.”

“No. I-I gotta go,” you stammer, your hands frantically packing up the camera, the lens cap slipping through your fingers. You try to grab it, but your nerves are shot and it fumbles. Thankfully, it doesn’t take damage. You’d hate to hear Robbie bitch at you for breaking the brand-new camera.

Just get out of here is the only thought running through your mind. Every time you’re around him lately, you end up a confused, horny, exasperated mess, and you can’t handle it anymore.

“Hey—wait!” Javier slips as he tries to step out of the tub, nearly falling as he reaches for you, his wet feet squeaking against the floor. You turn just in time to see him catch himself, water dripping from his body, his skin still flushed from what just happened.

“What the hell?” You shoot him a look, “You’re gonna break your neck trying to stop me from leaving—”

“I wasn’t—fuck, just let me talk for a second.” He runs a hand through his soaked hair, water dripping down his neck, over the curve of his shoulders, and you hate how even now, you’re distracted by how good he looks. He reaches for the towel and loosely wraps it around his waist. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“Neither did I,” you snap, stuffing your gear into your bag, not caring how haphazardly it’s packed. “This— this isn’t what I signed up for. I’m here to work, remember? Not… whatever the fuck that was.”

He steps closer, reaching for your arm, but you yank it away before he can touch you. The last thing you need is his hands on you right now, reminding you of everything you shouldn’t want.

“You think I don’t know that?” His voice softens, but there’s a frustration beneath it, like he’s grappling with the same confusion you are. “I wasn’t trying to mess with you, okay? I just… I don’t know what the hell is happening between us either.”

You stop, finally meeting his gaze. There’s something in his eyes that pulls at the part of you that’s freakishly tethered to him, but you can’t let that get to you now. Not when everything feels so damn complicated.

“Javier, this—” You struggle for words, shaking your head. “This can’t keep happening. I can’t—” You pause, your breath catching. I can’t have you. “I don’t want you,” you correct yourself.

His jaw clenches, muscles ticking under the strain. “Stop bullshitting me,” he growls, eyes narrowing.

“I’m not,” you shoot back, but it comes out too quickly, too rehearsed.

“You’re lying through your fuckin’ teeth, and it’s pathetic. What is so wrong with giving me a chance?” He keeps circling back to this— chances.

One thing about him, he knows how to trigger a fucking migraine. 

“Everything!” The word bursts out of you like a confession. “Everything about this is wrong. It’s why I’ve been trying to stay away since day one, but you’re so— ugh!” You throw your hands up, exasperated, the bathroom suddenly feeling too small and claustrophobic. He’s got you spinning in circles, tying you up in knots, and you can’t think straight around him.

Without a second thought, you turn to leave, your feet moving as if you’re fucking levitating. So what if you’ve made a habit of running away from him? You don’t owe him shit.

“Nena—” Desperation laces his voice and that stupid nickname makes your skin curl. “I don’t want you to leave like this.”

“Well, too bad,” you snap over your shoulder. “I’m leaving so you can’t sweet-talk me into anything.” The slam of the door echoes behind you, a final punctuation to your statement.

As you step out into the hallway, the distant sounds of people fucking filter through the air, kind of grounding you back to the real world.

You can’t keep working with him, not if every interaction is going to end like this. You make a mental note to talk to Robbie after today’s shoot. No more Peña.

The day drags on, the tension from earlier still lingering, but now, sitting outside on the shaded patio, you feel a small reprieve.

A half-eaten sandwich rests before you on the table, your eyes lazily tracing the lines of the zero-edge pool that blends into the horizon. The soft rustle of palm trees swaying in the gentle breeze lulls you into a sense of temporary peace. You glance around, taking in the pristine luxury surrounding you. Rich people really have it made, you think, marveling at the extravagance of someone else’s life.

The spat with Javier lingers but you’ve done your best to ignore it by keeping busy. The other shoots happening in the house have kept you distracted, but you know what’s coming: the last scene of the day— with him— and the new girl, Mariella. A small sigh escapes your lips as you sink deeper into the patio chair, absolutely dreading it.

Your tranquility is shattered when you feel a presence nearby. Already anticipating another confrontation with Javier, you steel yourself and don’t even bother looking up before snapping, “Oh my god, can you just leave me alone—”

The words get jammed in your throat as your eyes land on Frankie, not Javier. He stands there, looking taken aback, a paper bag in one hand and an awkward smile tugging at his lips. You instantly feel like a bitch.

“Shit— sorry,” you stammer, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I thought you were someone else.”

Frankie lets out a small chuckle, brown eyes softening as he rubs the back of his neck. “No worries, I can leave if you want—”

“No, no,” you say quickly, waving him off. “Please, stay. I didn’t mean to be snappy.”

He hesitates for a moment before motioning to the empty chair across from you. “Mind if I sit?”

You shake your head, and he lowers himself into the seat, setting his lunch down. The small talk starts easily, flowing naturally as you both munch on your food. He tells you about his daughter, a proud smile on his face as he recounts how she’s the light of his life. Then he goes on about how his friends call him Catfish because of some dumb inside joke, and also the fact that he’s a retired pilot. It somehow doesn’t surprise you— the career fits him.

“How do you go from flying helicopters to shooting porn?” you ask, the question half serious, half teasing as you lean back in your chair, eyes hidden behind your sunglasses.

Frankie raises an eyebrow and smirks, clearly amused. “Shit happens,” he says with a shrug. “How do you go from having a film production degree to spending your days staring at tits and ass?”

A wry smile tugs at your lips. You tilt your head, pausing for effect. “... Shit happens,” you echo, the irony not lost on either of you.

He snorts, taking a slow sip of his water, the sound of his laughter rolling into the lazy afternoon air. You can’t help but steal a glance from behind your shades, your gaze wandering over his rugged features.

There’s something about the way the sun hits him just right, casting a golden glow over his tanned skin. You swallow, feeling a subtle pull in your chest, an unexpected attraction. He’s not flashy, not like the other guys you’re used to working with— there’s an unspoken confidence in his ease, a solidness that makes you want to keep looking.

“So… who’d you think I was? Just then?” He asks, adjusting his cap.

You try not to let your small smile falter. “Oh, just an annoying coworker.”

“Ah, the kind who shows up at the worst times, huh?”

“Exactly,” you reply with a laugh, “You know the type.”

Frankie leans in just slightly, lowering his voice. “Well, I’m glad I’m not that guy.” There’s a flicker of flirtation in his tone, his eyes lingering a beat too long. “But if you ever need someone to… keep him under control, you just let me know. Got the remedy for that right here.” 

He exaggeratedly flexes his biceps, and the snug t-shirt he’s wearing pulls taut around his arms, highlighting their impressive size.

You can’t help but admire the view— he’s really fun to look at, all charming smiles and playful confidence.

“I might just take you up on that, actually,” you reply, matching his energy with a teasing smile of your own. “I could definitely use someone who knows how to handle things.”

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his pink lips. “I’m more than equipped for that, trust me.”

For a second, it feels like the two of you are in your own little world— until, of course, it comes crashing down.

A voice cuts through the moment like a knife. “We’re ready for the last scene.”

You turn to see Javier standing there, arms crossed, jaw tight, his gaze flicking between you and Frankie. His entire posture screams annoyance.

“And who are you?” Frankie retorts, squinting one eye against the harsh sunlight, playful defiance dancing in his tone.

Javier doesn’t seem to like that response at all. “I’m ready to get this shit done with,” he snaps, and you narrow your eyes, practically shooting daggers at him.

Frankie clears his throat, sizing up Javier’s bristling energy. “Right.”

You catch the word presumido slip from his lips— the Spanish insult that has you exhaling a light laugh through your nose, because he’s so spot on and he doesn’t even know it.

Both of you stand, Frankie gathering the remnants of your lunch. “If you’d like some company down by the beach later, I’ll still be around,” he adds smoothly, sliding the proposition in there as casually as if he were just suggesting grabbing coffee. You almost don’t mind him crashing your solo date.

“I’ll let you know,” you reply, pushing your chair in. “It would be great to not have to take the taxi back, but I was willing to do it for a nice afternoon by the water.” You can feel Javier’s possessive stare burning into you from across the way.

Frankie, absolutely unbothered, leans in closer, a charming grin on his face. “Here’s my number if you need that ride.” A pen appears out of nowhere, and he scribbles down his digits on a clean corner of his napkin, tearing it off with an effortless confidence before handing it to you.

“Definitely,” you say with a flirty smile, tucking the napkin into your pocket, feeling a thrill against the scowling presence of the spectator watching from the sliding glass door 

Frankie branches off to use the restroom and you push past Javier, no intention of speaking to him until—

“If you spent less time flirting with the crew and more time focusing on your job, we’d be finished by now.”

You can practically taste his jealousy.

You stop in your tracks, turning to face him, your patience running thin. “Really, Javi? You’re jealous of Frankie? That’s what this is about? Did our last conversation not put shit in perspective for you?”

He steps closer, eyes hard, voice low. “Jealous? Of him?” He scoffs, but the tension in his jaw betrays him. “I just don’t appreciate having to wait because you’re too busy cozying up to someone else. Especially someone who looks like they just got picked up off the side of the road.”

“And you wonder why I don’t like you.” Is all you can say, brushing past him yet again, his presence looming heavy as you head toward the living room where the last scene is set to be shot.

The moment Robbie goes on with his usual pre-shoot rundown, your attention shifts to the newbie Mariella immediately, drowning out his usual spiel.

The girl— and she is a girl, no matter what the paperwork says— looks painfully young. Her cropped tee hugging her braless chest, barely keeping her breasts from spilling out, and those flimsy pajama shorts riding high on her thighs. It’s the kind of outfit that makes you uneasy— one you’ve seen too many times in this industry, designed to play into the fantasies of men who want their women to look barely legal.

You bite the inside of your cheek, the sour taste of frustration building in the back of your throat. This is the part of the job that gnaws at you— the undercurrent of exploitation that no one acknowledges.

You’re not naive, you know exactly what sells in porn. You know what these people want to watch, what they get off on. The younger, the better. 

Still, it doesn’t make it any easier to stomach when you’re standing on set, watching it play out in real time.

Just as Mariella positions herself, preparing for the camera to roll, you can’t stop yourself. The words come out before you can think to censor them. “How old are you?”

Suddenly, everyone’s attention shifts to you. Robbie. Steve. Frankie. Even Javier, who’s lounging in the corner, waiting for his moment to shine. They all freeze, the casual banter dying off as your question lingers in the air. Mariella blinks, looking around as if unsure who you’re even talking to.

“I—I turned twenty last week.”

Your expression hardens, and the disapproval is written all over your face. “She’s not even old enough to drink, and you’re having her fuck Javier?” Your eyes cut to Robbie, who’s staring at you like you’ve just sprouted another head.

The silence stretches for a beat too long before he scoffs, shaking his head like you’re being ridiculous. “I don’t pay you to hear your opinions on shit,” he snaps, clearly irritated. “Just sit there and record the damn thing.”

Your eyes roll hard enough that it almost hurts. “You’re all a bunch of perverts.”

Poor Frankie catches a stray with that one. It’s like everything is grating on you in ways it usually doesn’t. Normally, you can shove it down and keep your head low because, at the end of the day, you’re just here for the paycheck.

“Perverts pay your bills, sweetheart,” Robbie throws back, all nonchalant. What’s worse is that he’s right.

Moments like this make you wonder how long you can keep doing this without losing a part of yourself in the process.

You look around at the other three men, none of them stepping up to say anything in your defense. Useless.

You shouldn’t be surprised, but it stings. Even Javier, usually quick with a sarcastic quip or biting comment, says nothing. He just sits there, stuffing out a cigarette that’s magically appeared between his lips.

It feels like a betrayal, even though you know better than to expect any different.

And Mariella? She’s clearly distracted, caught up in the magnetic pull Javier has over people. The way she’s looking at him with that starstruck, wide-eyed awe only makes it worse. You can see it in her expression, the way her gaze flickers over him like she’s already imagining how it’s going to feel when he fucks her. Thinking with her pussy instead of having common sense.

You recognize it because you were just in her exact position, drawn into that same orbit. You find empathy for her, but not the other motherfuckers.

The room descends into awkward silence, as if everyone’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. But you’re not in the mood for a full-blown argument, so you shut down, slumping into the chair behind your camera with your arms crossed tightly over your chest. 

You know it’s only a matter of time before all these feelings you’ve been aggressively pushing down come back up and make you snap, but for now, you continue to force it all away.

You’re assigned to shoot the stoic, wide shots while Frankie’s in charge of the close-ups, and honestly? You’re relieved. The last thing you need is to be up close, watching this trash unfold.

The scene starts with the typical, raunchy premise: Dad pays babysitter with his cock! It explains Mariella’s barely-there outfit and the cluttered coffee table with school notebooks, setting the scene.

Then there’s Javier who looks the part too; dressed in dark blue slacks, a typical white collared shirt with a few buttons popped open to give that I’m stressed, come take care of me vibe.

He’s the picture of temptation, and it’s obvious Mariella’s already in the clouds.

The filming begins and they share that cheesy, erotic dialogue and lustful touches. You feel yourself sink further into the chair, silently counting down the minutes until you’re decompressing by the beach.

She sinks to her knees before him, her doe eyes looking up at him with that practiced innocence they all seem to perfect so quickly. She reaches for the buttons on his slacks, her delicate fingers fumbling just a little before she pulls down the zipper and tugs at the waistband. She nuzzles her face against his thigh, brushing her lips against his skin, and finally pulls out his cock. Even soft, it’s still an impressive size— but it’s definitely not how this was supposed to go.

“Well, are you going to suck it or just stare at it?” Javier snaps, his tone cutting through the air with an edge that feels too sharp, too real. It doesn’t sound like the crudeness that’s meant to spice up the scene.

His hand shoots out and tangles in her hair, yanking her closer. He’s rougher than usual, harsher, as he forces her mouth onto him.

She wraps her lips around his head, suckling softly at first, then taking him deeper into her mouth. She’s trying to do her job, playing the part of the eager babysitter, but something’s off.

Javier’s head tilts back, eyes squeezed shut, but it’s not the usual look of pleasure that crosses his face. It’s more like he’s concentrating, forcing himself to feel something that isn’t there.

You can’t help it— your eyes flick around the room, looking at the rest of the crew. No one seems to be noticing what you’re seeing, their eyes all honed in on the action in front of them.

But you’re catching the small details like you always do.

After a few more moments, it’s clear that it’s not happening. Javier lets out a frustrated curse, pulling out of her mouth with an audible, wet pop. “Fuck—just, give me a second,” he grumbles, stepping back. Mariella wipes the saliva from her lips with the back of her hand, looking up at him with a mix of confusion and hesitation.

You take that as your cue. Reaching over, you stop the recording, your finger hesitating on the button for only a moment before pressing it. Frankie does the same, Steve lowers his mic and pulls his headset off.

Javier runs a hand through his hair, his eyes darting to the floor, like he’s trying to avoid looking at anyone directly. “I just need a minute,” he says again, but it’s more to himself than to anyone else.

Your gaze lingers on him for a second longer than you intend, and your mind flashes back to earlier, to the way he was with you. The memory is sharp and clear, the contrast striking. He’d come undone for you without hesitation, without needing any coaxing or forcing. Just words. But now, with Mariella kneeling in front of him, offering herself up like a gift, he’s struggling. 

“How long will this minute take? We gotta be outta here soon so get it up before I get one of these two to take your place.”

Javier scoffs, dismissive, “Tape wouldn’t fucking sell.”

“Well one featuring a soft dick won’t either,” comes the retort, and the two of them start their back-and-forth bickering.

You rub at your temples, trying to ease the pressure building behind your eyes. This has to be some weird-ass dream; it sure as hell feels like it. Maybe you’re still in bed, blissfully sleeping until three in the afternoon.

Javier storms off and Steve puts his equipment down. “I’ll go talk to him.”

Robbie just waves him away. “Take five,” he mutters to the rest of you, going in the opposite direction. This is such a mess, and poor Mariella remains on her knees, picking at her cuticles. 

“Please get up and sit on the couch. You look pathetic,” you say to her, not cruelly but bluntly. It’s not her fault, but the sight of her there is making you itch. She complies like a chastised child. 

Frankie drops down beside you, letting out a breath that mirrors your own. “These things usually go like this?” He takes his hat off, ruffling his hair before putting it back on.

“No,” shit has just been weird amongst this group for weeks now. “Burnout is inevitable, I guess.” You’re not about to sit there and shit-talk Javier, despite everything. You might have a mountain of complicated feelings when it comes to him, but you won’t kick him while he’s down.

Before Frankie can respond, Robbie comes barreling back into the room, his face flushed with anger. His eyes lock onto you, and you can see the accusation in them before he even opens his mouth.

“This is your fault,” he spits out, voice sharp, acidic. “All that shit you were talking earlier— now he’s fucking broken.”

You narrow your eyes, standing your ground. “Excuse me?” you snap, incredulous. “I was making a valid point. How the hell is it my fault that he grew a conscience?”

“Y’know,” he starts, his words dripping with the kind of vile, misogynistic shit that makes your blood boil. “You’d do me more good in front of the camera. Have somethin’ shoved up in there to keep you fucking quiet.”

The reaction is immediate. You shoot up from your seat so fast the chair scrapes against the floor, the sound sharp and angry, mirroring how you feel. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Frankie stands too, his face hardening as he takes a step in front of you, finally coming to your defense. “Watch it,”  he warns, and it feels like the whole situation could explode into something much worse.

Robbie, of course, just sneers “What? You gonna defend her? She’s been a pain in my ass for weeks—”

“I’m done.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can think them through, but they feel right. 

You’re tired— so damn tired— of this whole mess. Of dealing with assholes like Robbie and Javier who think they can get away with saying whatever they want. “I quit.” 

Your boss’s mouth opens as if he’s about to say something else, but you cut him off with a cutting glare. “I’m not going to sit here and listen to you treat me like shit because your precious Javier can’t get his dick hard. Go fuck yourself, Robbie.”

You don’t wait for a response. You turn on your heel and head for the door, your heart pounding in your chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You’ll double up on shifts at the bar or go back to waiting tables like you did throughout college. Whatever keeps you away from this bullshit. 

As you stride down the hallway toward the entrance, you pass Javier and Steve. Javier’s face is stormy, brows knitted together as if he’s still reeling from whatever heated discussion they just had. 

The moment he spots you, his expression shifts. There’s a flicker of surprise, maybe even concern.

“Where are you going?” Steve asks.

You yank the heavy, probably expensive for no reason, front door open, the sound echoing through the hallway. “I just quit,” you snap, voice sharp as glass. “See you never.”

🏷️ : @almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @libre-sol . @cherrysugarx . @goodvibesonly421 .

finally started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out. muchas gracias mis putitas (gn) (endearingly) 🖤

[zykamiliah]

Tell me about Shen Yuan's mental gymnastics

oh boy where do i start

there are various sides to sy's mental gymnastics:

-his sexuality, that directly correlates to his feelings for binghe; we know how he projects his desire for lbh into the Women/Wives characters, he is in complete denial and actively suppressing his own sexuality, for quite a while and even before he transmigrated, since he has some "skeletons in his closet" in regards to past crushes. he frames his feelings for lbh and his responses during sex as submitting to lbh's charm and "technique" as if to imply he doesn't really have a choice or is being convinced into loving and having sex with lbh, which is one of the biggest misunderstandings for readers in the whole novel. for him admitting that he likes gay sex is tremendously embarrassing, and a consequence from being raised in a homophobic/queerphobic culture.

-his self-image, not in the sense that insecure or lacks confidence, but in that he perceives himself as inconsequential-- he doesn't expect much to come from his good actions except maybe that people will spare his life (lbh, lqg) and instead weighs his bad actions as worse than they are. even if he doesn't think about it a lot, he expects lbh to hate him and kill him for pushing him into the endless abyss, yet doesn't take into the equation everything else he did as a shizun for lbh and the other qjp disciples. this probably comes from his fandom-agreed third child syndrome, in that as such he grew up thinking his actions don't have any impact in the people around him (not taking into account the impact of his death in hua yue city, for example, in lbh and his martial siblings and disciples); related to that, is the part where he doesn't ever talk about his own accomplishments because he thinks that's too cringe or something, so he's always downplaying himself and the stuff he does, like being a good damn teacher, and liking it! he describes himself as a lazy guy who just wants to lead a no-effort life but that's what he actually wants or does; he's always doing something post-transmigration and if fact gets antsy and restless when he's forced to stay inside doing nothing

also related to him downplaying his good actions, is that he sketches himself as a selfish person when his actions completely contradict that characterization.

he also downplays or completely hides from the narration how much being cool matters to him lol he wants to distract the reader and himself from the fact that he's not an easygoing person, who will take anything life gives him; no, no, that man taught his disciples about payback; he gets reeaally pissed off when mbj dismisses his cultivation at the immortal alliance conference. i've talked about how he projects on shen jiu here to go around those feelings .

overall he's unreliable when talking about himself and you have to look at everything he says really carefully and contrast it with his actual actions to understand what's real and what's a lie.

and one of my favorites: he tells us he's pretending at being a lofty immortal cultivator, when in truth the transmigration has allowed him to become the best version of himself (ok there's still room for improvement but he's getting there!) the moment the OOC was off, and later when he's in the mushroom body, he thinks of himself as shen qingqiu all the time, going so far as to put finding a folding fan as a top priority, saving people just because he was around, and being unable to let cqm disciples be in danger to the detriment of his own survival. he tries to sell you a picture of himself where he's pragmatic and selfish and self-serving, but in truth, despite having a bad temper and sometimes resorting to anger as a coping mechanism (the tsundere allegations are true), he's a big softie and unconditional when it comes to the people he cares about.

[astrok1dz]

Was sneaking through the John doe tag n found your account 👀 I really like your writing! Hope you don't mind me spam liking a bit!

I don't see anywhere if requests are open, unless I'm dumb lmao, so feel free to just toss this if they're closed

Could I request John Doe with an affectionate reader, who likes to rant to him about their interests, but always feels like they're annoying him after cause growing up they never had anyone listen to them ramble

Thank you, regardless if you do this or not, and have a great day! ❤

A/n: OMG YES I FORGOT TO SAY THAT REQUESTS ARE OPEN- also ur request is personally so relatable omfg. that being said.

Doe with an affectionate S/O!

cws: mentions of insecurities(?, pure fluff, not proofread, may be OOC(??

Doe will listen to you talk about anything.

I mean. ANYTHING.

You could talk about cockroaches for an hour for all he cares. The fact that it’s YOU talking and that you chose to talk to him? He’s melting.

But, you’re insecure, and John is too im love to not be oblivious.

He’s a little dense when it comes to this.

Sometimes he’ll listen to you talk too much and he’ll look like he’s not paying attention

But it’s the opposite!! He’s registering everything!! He’s just quiet cuz he doesn’t want to interrupt! He’ll burst into words and affection as soon as you finish ranting

You talk to him about this and how it makes you feel. You feel like you’re a chore or burden to listen to, and that you don’t want that to be the case. Especially not with him.

He will reassure you oh so desperately

“You just- stay so quiet… I don’t wanna bother you with all my ranting. I-I- I do all of the talking and maybe you’re fed up with it and-”

He stares at you in SHOCK. Pure, raw, SHOCK. Is this what he caused? A slight pain hits right through him, to have caused you this stress.

“Oh no no no my love! I love listening to you, your voice is so lovely and everything you say is so interesting, I swear swear swear swear swear!”

He will proceed to recite everything you said back to him. Even if you tell him you believe him. From then on he started commenting and getting more and more involved in the rants you had rather than just nodding quietly.

“I’m so sorry I caused you this stress, I’m so so sorry!”

You hug him, almost tearing up, because he’s just so worried about your well-being and he actually loves listening to you? He starts showing it much better and much more often too, and you just have to stop yourself from crying when he makes little additions to your rants.

“… and then she said the exact same thing I did! So why was it all wrong when I said it? I mean- the fuck is her deal?!”

“Right? She doesn’t own the truth. She sounds so annoying, love. You want me to do something about it…?!”

Your mouth hangs open for a little bit, before gaining back your composure, heart swelling in your chest.

“Just take me out to eat, will you, Doe?”

“Of course!”

I think a lot of people jump right to the gory and killing part when they learn that Doe will do anything for You, when it can also be something as simple as learning how to be a better partner for you.

TYSM FOR THE REQUEST!!! I LOVED WRITING (and projecting onto) THIS!! <3

Tags:

[bedeliainwonderland]

hey k, a little birdie told me you wanted the question :)

Do you think Hannibal was in love with Alana and Bedelia? The same way he was in love with Will? Or how do you see Hannibal's relationship with Alana and Bedelia compared to his intense love for Will?

😘❤️ aww thank you, you didn’t have to send it haha. I was just being overdramatic because I am annoyed.

But since you asked… *adjusts glasses and takes a sip of pink g&t, Lidl’s finest* WARNING: VERY LONG, read at own risk 💀

Soooo, let’s start by saying that Hannibal “loves” a lot of people. He loved Jack, he loved Abigail. In his own way, of course, and it’s not such a good thing to be loved by him. Can prove quite fatal. Not one of these 3 relationships are alike for many reasons. It’s like comparing apples, oranges and dog food.

Alana: Hannibal was absolutely fond of her and loved her in a way. She was a strong and intelligent woman and Hannibal has a thing for strong women, starting from his aunt (a thing that’s NEVER discussed by the fandom). Their connection was limited for obvious reasons: Hannibal could have never showed her his true self, she would have never accepted him for who he was. She wasn’t like him. When she asked if she could have ever understood him and he said no, it was actually a rare moment of truth from him. Yes, their romance was a form of a distraction, very useful for Hannibal, but he treated her well. Whether that excuses the lies and the deception, it’s up to everyone’s personal judgment. (I would have still slept with him 😏)

Will: *sighs* I am obviously not a fan, mainly because of the fandom and how the show turned into a bad fanfic by season 3 (because the creator loved being worshipped by a small group of people and ignored plot coherency in a process). Does Hannibal love Will? Yes. Does he love him in the way the fandom claims? Absolutely not. Will and his empathy are such a perfect thing for Hannibal. He’s a narcissist and what he loves most is himself. Will and his “gift” makes him an ideal clean slate Hannibal can project himself onto. He doesn’t care for Will on a personal level. He loves him the way one loves a favourite book or other object. You love it and you don’t want anyone else to have it, but you don’t expect the book to return your feelings. I imagine Hannibal had several other “projects” before Will, but no one them were so “pliant” to Hannibal’s tricks. Plus Will’s push back made Hannibal more and more obsessive. Would taking Will and Abigail to Europe work? Absolutely not, because again, Hannibal has never considered their own feelings. He has never considered them as persons. It would have blown up in his face and he would have probably killed them both (unless they escaped somehow). My biggest issue with the show is that Hannibal would have never forgiven Will his betrayal (or anyone else’s for that matter). Mizumono was a perfect break up with all his “relationships”. And don’t give me the “Hannibal loved Will so much he forgive him”. No, it was a creator’s choice to cater to the fandom and very OOC.

Bedelia: my biggest pet peeve is when people say she was “Will’s substitute”. Bitch please… if you must consider this in those terms, Will was the substitute. But you shouldn’t because those relationships have nothing in common. But the “brides of Frankensteeeein”?? I hear you scream. That was just Bedelia having fun toying with Will (and actually it was fan service…). She has never felt jealous about his relationship with Hannibal (she did find him a loose cannon though and was wary of what he might do to her). I once did a full on breakdown on their relationship throughout the episodes and wish I could find it again (search option here is… ughh). I will try to keep it short this time. Bedelia’s presence in Hannibal’s life is unique. When we meet Bedelia for the first time, it is being said that they have known each other for years at this point. Longer than anyone ever!! Hannibal is not a creature that keeps people around. So there’s something about Bedelia that makes her special. He is clearly enamoured by her and it’s an ongoing thing. If he “loved” her and then stopped, he would have killed her. What makes Bedelia special is that she is the only person that Hannibal treats like, well, a person. She is the only one on his “level”, the only one he respects. And it’s the respect that makes this so important. Hannibal has zero respect for anyone else, most people are just possible meat to him. He doesn’t respect Will or Abigail. It’s like Bedelia is a little pedestal above all others in Hannibal’s mind. But most importantly, she KNOWS. We don’t know how much she knows at the time of season 1, but she knows enough. Enough to know what he is. And she is not afraid or repulsed. Quite the contrary. And Hannibal senses she is like him, that’s why he sends her a wounded bird to kill. She does, proving him right, yet is not ready to embrace her dark side. Hannibal is: fine, I’ll wait. Again proving how special she is to him. She warns him, he doesn’t listen, she leaves, he lets her! But he wanted to kill heeer… no, he wanted to see if she was were really gone and if she had betrayed him (he’s fixated on betrayal in general). She didn’t, she left him a gift, once again proving how well she knows him and telling him they’ll meet again. Both his romance with Alana and his plan to get away with his “projects” only started AFTER she left. Bedelia wasn’t a plan B, she was plan A but she left. Let’s skip an essay on Florence since this is already ridiculously long, just a few points. Fandom’s obsession with pointing out that he only talked about Will: yeah, because FAN SERVICE, we had like 4 conversations between them, out of hundreds that would have taken place. Literally ALL the characters talk only about them. It has zero relevance to their relationship. The writers weren’t interested in developing any other storyline. But even so, we still got more than enough to see how much they meant to each other. Dimmond’s death: Hannibal literally (oops again that word) gives her an out. She could have left and he would have not followed. But she stayed and this was a moment when Hannibal realized he fucked up. His reckless behaviour has already ruined their life in Florence and now he finally see that Bedelia accepts him fully, like no one else ever did (NO, WILL DOESN’T). Things reach their boiling point, she patches him up (lovingly) and sends him away. And he ACCEPTS it! Even more so, he promises to support her story. This is HUGE, Hannibal has only cared about telling his own story and plotting his own way, and here he is like sure babe, I will say whether you want me to say. If that doesn’t make Bedelia a queen of his heart, I don’t know what does. Finally, contrary to what fandom says, Bedelia has NEVER betrayed Hannibal. She has covered for him and she has tried to help him. Bedelia is the only person who understands Hannibal. She is quite like him (same interests, same tastes) Hannibal never wanted and would never hurt or kill her. He feels protective of her, after all.

I ran out of space. If you got this far, I kiss you on the forehead 💋 thank you for reading!

[doodlegirl1998]

I'm writing a new fic, and people are all like "Inko would throw Aizawa out the window!" and other things, and I'm just over here like, "no she wouldn't. She literally wouldn't."

Where the hell did this fanon treated as canon interpretation of Inko as this Mighty Super Mom come from?

Hi @nutzgunray-lvt 👋,

I think the 'Inko is a super mum' common fandom trope comes from a few places:

They see Inko care about and obviously love Izuku so that makes people think that she's this awesome mum and look over her mistakes.

Izuku loves her and doesn't fault her for anything which makes her look better in the fandoms eyes (this is obviously the case for Bakugou too.)

The fandom can be very black and white in their perceptions of characters. This is the case for fandoms in general but especially ones geared at younger audiences like MHA.

Projection - In some cases, people have had awesome single mums in their lives and see a lot of similarity in their mums to Inko which elevates her character higher than what she is in canon to them.

To conclude this is why I think 'Super Mum' Inko is so popular in fanfics, there's also some stories that get defensive of her and elevate her due to the many stories where she is either dead or OOC levels of abusive.

But the truth is more grey - Inko is imperfect. She has failed Izuku in not defending him from his bullies, she is emotionally neglectful and relies on him too much for her own emotional support yet she also loves him and cares about him deeply. Ironically enough, that could make for an interesting set up for growth of a flawed parental figure - yet Hori wastes her and has her 'just there' not doing anything most of the time apart from crying from worry.

[witchspeka]

I was kind of surprised to find out that quite a few people thought Reigen was OOC at the beggining of the separation arc

LIKE we already knew he had the tendency to be kind of an asshole plus he never had a lot of consideration for Mobs schedule/free time

He also wasn't used to Mob standing up for himself or insisting on things

Him saying all of that hurtful stuff was a result of his flaws being highlited, I don't think it defines him as a character nor do I think its a basis for how he acts in general

But it's important to acknowledge he had the capacity to say all of that and imo it just made him feel more human

He has flaws, he messes up, he hurts people

Idk I just dislike it when people try to either find him excuses for That Scene or claim its OOC

Reigen is used to Mob being at his beck and call, never having any friends or hobbies

He still has yet to get used to the fact that Mob has changed and grown, to him he's still the naive kid that got roped into a cult a few weeks ago and who always relies on him for advice

On top of that, it becomes pretty obvious later on that Reigen is straight up projecting onto him

Reigen doesnt have any real friends, he's lonely and the "friends" he does have just want to use him

Mob used to be like him, and until that moment he keeps believing that's the truth

So Reigen is shocked by the change in status quo, that Mob stands up for himself, because he's said all of that nasty stuff thinking it'll be water under the bridge by the time tommorow rolled around

When he's being mean, he doesn't think he'll face any immediate consequences for his actions

Just because he's a good person and usually the mature/reliable adult doesn't mean he can't drop the ball once in a while

I like it when characters fuck up and have to grow, it's one of the reasons why I like mp100 so much, its a central theme in the show after all

Let Reigen make mistakes too, man

[liminevator]

⚠️ ~ WATCH YOUR STEP - MIND THE GAP ~ ⚠️

[You are now entering the Liminevator, we hope you enjoy your stay]

(Info under the read more)

Hello hello and welcome! This is a blog for a little side project I ( @nnugatoryextravagance ) have been working on that's tangentially connected to my primary oc project.

The Liminevator is a machine that was built by a man named Professor Katzehund Schrödinger, that was originally intended to be for having a safe way to find out the truth about the strange reported phenomena of people slipping from this reality into another with no way to return, not only was this found to be absolutely real but of course something also went horrifically wrong in line with it's creator's declining mental faculties, as a result The Liminevator we now know was born, a dubiously self aware machine that has become its own little divot in the unstable framework of the Crafengoverse and has made getting lost outside of reality easier than ever before, once you enter the doors to the lobby, weather on purpose or by mistake, you'll only be left with two directions left to go: up, or down. Watch your step and mind the gap as you head inside, we hope you'll enjoy your stay, you have an eternity to settle into after all.

-- -- --

This intro post will also serve as a sorta guide for how this blog works

First, there's the levels system for how the floors are categorized

Second, there's a list of basic terminology thats used a lot

Third, there's what the tags are for (don't worry, there aren't too many):

"💔 - Characters" - This tag is for posts about the different denizens located within the bounds of The Liminevator

"🛗 - Floors" - This tag is, well, for posts that're about the floors of The Liminevator

"⚠️ - Anomalies" - This is a blanket tag is for the various animals(?) and things and such found around most floors, whether or not they're just harmless critters or violent beasts is further distinguished by:

"🐾 - Friends" - For anomalies that are safe for denizens or are helpful in some way

"🦴 - Foes" - For violent anomalies that cause active harm to denizens

"🧀 - Fiends" - For anomalies that don't neatly fall into the Friends or Foes categories

"🪄 - Objects" - A tag usually paired with the above three to specify anomalies that don't show enough signs of vitality to be a sort of animal or are very blatantly just an anomalous object of sorts

"💊 - Other Phenomena" - File entries that don't quite fit other categories, wether it be things like illnesses, denizen biology, elevator events, metaphysical phenomena, anything really

--- [Media tags] ---

"📖 - Stories" - a tag for short stories about the elevator denizens (that isn't part of a database entry) either by me or others

"🍿 - Etc" - Miscellaneous posts

"🎨 - Art" - and a tag for any art (that isnt part of a database entry) either by me or others

And thats all of them for now, I may add more tags as I need them but :]

(For the sake of filtering, tags for certain common triggers of things will be formatted like [bad thing] tw)

-- -- --

OOC: (One more important note and a bit more of a personal anecdote about this project, while most of it is primarily my usual worldbuilding shenanigans given a silly twist, many aspects of The Liminevator exist as a way for me to come to terms with the multitudes trauma I've experienced (most obviously with the elevator denizens themselves of course, even sometimes through how I got the characters to begin with), hell this whole thing was born not long after an event with a now ex partner that left me deeply re-traumatized and I have been using it to help me recover from that and distract from ongoing issues, like my health and etc.)

(There will be heavy themes of unreality, occasional unsettling imagery or descriptions, characters with mentions of disturbing events in their past, characters doing awful things to eachother thanks to the perceived idea of zero consequences, and whathaveyou. Everything I ever mention will be tagged accordingly however so don't worry, but if I do mess up please let me know and I will rectify it asap. All I can hope for is maybe this project might be able to help someone like me out there too <:] or at least inspire someone to do something cool)

[A little addendum, yes the project was obviously inspired by the game Regretevator, but it's not based on it, this idea was rattling in my head for a long time and was inspired by a buncha other things too- I just wanted to make that a bit clearer just in case because I've already been asked about it]

[destiny-in-the-universe]

Project Zero: The Guide

I decided to ping you since you were curious- @thesoundofmadness

Alright, so this is how the universe works-

Something highly important to the lore is hero districts. Now I'm sure you're sitting here wondering, what the hell are these? Well, my good reader, I am glad you've asked! Or were thinking about it lol-

When it comes to hero districts, these are locations around the world which are home to some of the local superheroes - hence the name, hero district. It's quite straightforward once you think about it, but there's a little more to it than that. The districts have a foundation behind them; either historical evidence that predates a current hero (think Norrisville for instance) or were 'created' overtime by the sudden appearance of a hero (this means Danny Phantom-).

Typically, a hero district will keep to themselves; interactions with another district are rare and few between, mostly for the sake of following old customs. No one knows why they exist, but it was considered an act of ill will to interfere with another district's problems- especially when some of them involved literal magic and didn't want other people finding out about it. Though in context of the lore, well, this is going to change. A lot sooner than one might think-

Now obviously, things might be limited via a roleplay blog and especially on tumblr but the difference is: we're trying to have fun here! Trust me, there will be more that will happen behind the scenes.

So now that I've explained hero districts, let's explain what the hell is Project Zero. Honestly, the name hit me out of nowhere buuuttt, the truth is- calling it a project isn't accidental either. The whole thing comes from this... organization which has become interested in creating an elite team of heroes to handle threats that occur nationwide and not just within a specific district.

This is going to have flaws- it wouldn't be a multi-fandom superhero verse without this factor. Due to the pattern that most, if not all, the heroes are literal teenagers... expect conflict. I'm still trying to decide who the main villain will be, or if this is going to come with episodic features and slowly build into something else and trust me, it will get interesting no matter what path we decide to take.

You will see canon villains, but I don't think this needs to be said.

Now that we've got some key information out of the way, let's get to the fun part!

Under-the-Cut Information

~ So far, the confirmed fandoms are RC9GN (by yours truly lol-), Danny Phantom, Ben 10, and... Rwby? At least according to myself and @oceandirtcountryn (i am so sorry for the constant pings oof)

~ Certain districts are a bit... cagey about how much other cities and/or districts know about them so keep this in mind! I'd honestly prefer you run this by me if you want to have preexisting connections but I promise I'm pretty lenient

~ This is strictly speaking for animation and cartoons with a theme about superheroes. Something like say, Brooklyn 99 wouldn't be in this but I think that speaks for itself

~ If your intention is to be a collaborator, then I do prefer you're either helping me build on lore or have your own ask/roleplay blogs!

~ Also seriously, feel free to age up the characters a little bit? Like, I'd prefer the main heroes remain teenagers for, well, obvious reasons

~ The crossover might be a little more... mature? This does not mean NSFW; what this means is that do expect more serious themes that make the shows more complex than they were originally presented as-

~ This entire crossover is headcanon friendly, and has certain aspects of rewritten lore so, do with this what you will for now!

Rules I Wanted to Discuss

I do have to ask that if an active roleplay is happening, please do not reblog unless you're one of the roleplayers- it gets confusing for me. likes are fine, but please don't reblog with OOC comments (this goes for non-players)

Obviously, no NSFW. This is not the place for that- like I could, but that wouldn't be very fun-

I will not be taking fanart requests. I cannot draw to save my life, so do not do this; now if somehow we get large enough to have fanart made for the blog, go right ahead! I don't expect it to, but I won't stop you-

I'm going to steal someone's kneecaps if my collaborators are made uncomfortable

My blog, at least, won't be spoiler-free. The shows have been finished for a long time, so-

More rules will be posted on the official blog and unfortunately, it will not be finished tonight- I have to get up early, and this pup is not prepared. I'll still be around tumblr for a little while longer, but grrr enjoy this! That's it for now!

[solomons-poison]

Hiiii! For the writers truth & dare ask game -🔪🦷🏜️ please?

Hello hello! Thanks for sending in~

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Hmmmm. Often times, the weird things I research aren't for writing at all but just for my own curiosity, my writing needs are pretty basic unfortunately. Maaaaybe nuances on kinks and idioms specific to a culture????? Ancient hair care treatments???? That's really about it, when it comes to writing subjects

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

I am unfortunately Master of Struggling so I don't think I have any good advice or life hacks. Probably best thing is, as someone with memory issues and short attention span thanks to my ADD, write things down as soon as you think of them. If you go "Oh I'm sure I'll remember this later", just know that that is the devil talking. If you can't write it down, make a song about it. Whatever you can do to keep it fresh in your mind.

If we're talking about writing life hacks, I'd say this: if there's an idea you want to write but don't have the energy to write out complex paragraphs or not sure how to start it, I would start with bullet points. There's a lot to think about when writing such as dialogue and emotions and the hook, but if you can't remember all of what you wanted to discuss to begin with, then it doesn't really matter. A bullet list of your main ideas/thoughts will help you so much when you want to tackle the project in full.

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

I love comments about the emotions people feel when they read my stuff, particularly if it's relating to an emotion that I was trying to portray in the story 🥺 like people saying they can feel the heartache, or the love between characters, etc.

Also, I know it's a heavily debated topic and is up to each individual how they feel about it, but I personally really like when someone feels I portrayed a character accurate to their source. Like I understand that what I write will always be OOC by technicality, cause I'm not the creator of said character. But I want my reader to be able to imagine this scenario happening in canon, I want them to be able to get immersed in the story better rather than feel like they're reading about someone else.

[sebastianshaw]

I decided to do the questions *I* want from THIS FANTASTIC X-MEN ASK MEME by @katatonicimpression​ instead of reblogging it, because I know which ones I want to answer/have an answer for and which ones I don’t, so here’s a bunch of X-opinions! 2. The best thing about the Krakoa era is....? Absolutely having characters together that would just otherwise never interact, or never interact in a non-battle context. It’s such fantastic fuel for dynamics and development that could probably not happen in any other setting. This is added to with the “bringing people back” aspect, which I also really like, for the same reason---it makes for stories and interactions that just couldn’t be done in anything else before.  6. What's the funniest retcon? Shinobi’s paternity. I hate it, yeah, but it’s also so hilarious because Duggan wanted SO BAD to remove all Shaw’s connections that he for real fucking wrote Shaw, whom he otherwise really wants to demonize, as choosing to take on a child as his that he knew very well might not be at all. Like. No. No, that’s so wrong it’s actually FUNNY. It’s stupid and I dislike it for a lot of reasons, but it’s also just HILARIOUS. It could be he was trying to give Shaw some kind of complexity, and while I do think he did make an attempt with that in other issues, here I think it’s more that Duggan seems to think it’s “boys vs girls” with his cast and Shaw, being our sexist villain, would always help another man out (which, ok, it is Harry, but) I also cannot prove this or base it on anything, but I really truly believe that he wanted to put in that Shaw’s actually impotent or infertile, and just wasn’t allowed to. It seems like his brand of “feminist” dudebro writing that shoots down evil sexist men using....sexism, like when Kate calls him a bitch, which is cool when she does it but bad when he does it, because it’s not using the term “bitch” is sexist, it’s just who uses it! Just like how his Emma is a “feminist” who uses a ton of gendered insults in the second issue to refer to some hypothetical woman she thinks Shaw is sleeping with.  But yeah, the one time he writes Shaw being anything other than a strawman, it’s still THE MOST WILDLY OOC THING POSSIBLE and I just have to laugh at that point. Runners up: - Sinister was originally intended to be the projection or creation of a mutant child, albeit an immortal one, who couldn’t grow up “So he built himself an agent in a sense, which was Mister Sinister, that was, in effect, the rationale behind Sinister's rather—for want of a better word—childish or kid-like appearance. The costume... the look... the face... it's what would scare a child.” (quote from C.laremont) And then they don’t use that, so it’s “he looks like this because he’s literally just that flamboyant and ridiculously over the top” I mean yeah that’s not technically the reason for the white skin and all, but it’s funny.  - The first backstory we get from Emma is in G.eneration X where she tells the kids her parents placed her in an institution when she started “hearing voices” from her budding telepathy. She implies she was sexually assaulted by the guards until her psychic powers increased enough to make one carry her out...and she burned the place down behind her. We learn later through her backstory series that this isn’t what happened at all, even if it was likely intended as the truth at the time. You can mush them together I guess, and I think a lot of people do, but if she was indeed lying, then that means that. . .she stole her brother Christian’s horribly traumatic story (being put in an asylum by their parents), then decided to add in some rape implications for drama, all for a story she is telling TO TEENAGERS ON CHRISTMAS EVE . And if it was the truth? It means she also BURNED ALL THE OTHER INNOCENT INMATES TO DEATH WITH ZERO THOUGHTS OR REGRET.  So either option is so horrible it’s actually hilarious to me.  8. 🔪 to your throat, Rob Liefeld or Greg Land? I hate Land, but I will say he drew one of the best Shaws (it’s the one in my sidebar!) and his art isn’t as immediately ugly as Liefield’s is. . . but I give t to Liefeld because firstly, HE DOESN’T TRACE PORN, and secondly, his brand of bad is also just funnier. Like come on the pouches and guns and tiny feet are funny, Land’s porn traces are just gross. I also just feel his art is more sincere, I guess. Like it took TIME to put 80 billion lines on everyone’s face and a million pouches and all that weaponry. I don’t think it looks good but I can at least respect the effort. 15. Which x-parent is the worst parent? Harness. I’m not talking about Harness. You can look her up. But since no one else will bring up Harness, I’m bringing up Harness. 16. Who has the kinkiest powers? (No explanation required) Benedict Kine. Of course he was in Shinobi’s Inner Circle, even if they didn’t get along. it actually perpetually shocks me he wasn’t designed by Claremont but I guess he’d be written very differently if he was 17 Favourite villain team? OG Hellions. They were the first dead D-list baddies I ever got fixated on, way back when I was about 13 years old. They’re really not villainous at all, making what happened to them so much more tragic, and they had some very interesting personalities and dynamics with each other and the heroes. If I had to pick some REAL villains, it would of course be the Hellfire Club, followed by the Upstarts, I like pretty much all the Upstarts to varying degrees. Yes, even Fitzroy--I hated him as a child because he killed the Hellions, but now I actually like him quite well and am more just frustrated his backstory with his future’s Emma (his motive for the massacre) was never expanded. I think he’s an example of how I learned to view characters not as real people who need to be hated and punished for the things they did bad, and more as tools who did their job in the story badly, or well, or COULD have done better in the right hands (like him and a lot of my favs) Of course there’s still a lot of “seeing them as a person” to me too, it’s why I also can’t stand certain villains because they’ve just crossed a particular line for me, but I think generally I take a position between then two, hence my fondness for absolutely ROTTEN people in particuliar!

[sasukesun]

Hi- I'm the anon who used iruka and Naruto as an example haha. I did not finish writing and I did not write well 💀💀💀

Yes, I was referring narusasu fandom, or sns (for convenience I say ns). in the time that I have been in ns fandom, 60-70% of posts/accounts are from sasuke.

Now, regarding iruka and Naruto. I know itachi (as brother and character) is more relevant, they have more panels, etc. while iruka is there to give support and be a father figure. I didn't mean that the relationship of iruka and naruto should be analyzed with the same weight. I mean that when talking about bonds, iruka is forgotten or not taken into account. I've seen people say “iruka was just the first, it's really not important” “kakashi was the real father” and all this when they referring to bonds that aren't sasuke.

(now I'm using translator, sorry if there are errors)

sorry i’m still not sure if you mean people who are strictly narusasu or the overall sns fandom. because sns fandom has always cared more about naruto than sasuke. there are popular blogs that have tons of notes talking about how people don’t talk about naruto’s trauma enough and only focuses on sasuke’s when that’s far from the truth, especially when they have never cared about sasuke’s trauma and only use him to validate naruto, who they self insert into (but in a very ooc version). there’s a lot of veiled sasuke hate in this fandom, besides the fact that sasuke’s been called a whiny emo boy for who knows how long. now about iruka… well i think people that say this are just projecting because they prefer kakashi and haven’t been paying attention, since naruto himself always emphasises iruka and sasuke’s importance

[doctor-glitterbomb]

OOC: So who is Glit? (Headcanons <3)

So in case it's not fully clear, in my AU, Glit, Howlback and Ravage are siblings. There were originally twelve siblings, and they were built to operate in cat & bird pairs: Ravage and Laserbeak, Nightstalker and Buzzsaw, Howlback and Garboil, Glit and Squawktalk, Stripes and Sundor, and Pounce and Wingspan. Each pair had its own colour scheme. They were all intended for pre-war Cybertronian black ops. The birds are fast, can see far far away, and can plug into your system and steal your information easily. They don't interact with other mecha as much as the cats do.

The cats were trained to be not just deadly spies and assassins, but also for psyops, including seduction, friendly interrogation and entertainment. As beastformers they were disposable, but in their root modes they looked like other small bipedal robots (like Minimus or Cheetor) with beast-like features. Those who were forced to become cassettes were locked in their beast modes until that was reversed.

This project was defunded, and they were all supposed to be terminated, but they weren't, because the people who made them sold them under the table as slaves to get their investment back.

Ravage and Laserbeak and Buzzsaw and Nightstalker (the latter of whom died) were bought up by Senator Ratbat, Pounce and Wingspan disappeared into the Warworlds, Howlback and Garboil were bought up by Iaconian Metaforensics (they learned to be cops from Prowl), and Stripes worked in the Censor's office with Sundor where they made friends with Blaster, which is why they chose the Autobots.

But this is about Glit. Glit and Squawktalk were bought by a noble Vosni house and sent to accompany their unconventional medic daughter Pharma in Iacon as servants and bodyguards.

It was Pharma's conjunx Ratchet who noticed that Glit had the capability to become a medic, made sure he passed the Ambus Test, and trained him--he wasn't very employable in the greater world, but he worked beside Ratchet in the Dead End clinic where he reconnected with Ravage and met Drift and Soundwave.

Anyhow, if you know the whole Glit story, you know that he became the best of the Decepticon medics, the kindest and most impartial--and yet, IDW shows him working at Decepticon death camp Grindcore, which was managed by Tarn before he was Tarn.

Megatron and Glit had issues even in Kiss Players because Glit will heal anyone and cares more for how much help a patient might need than their rank. So it was Megatron who sent him to work there as a punishment--if he wanted to heal Autobots and aliens, he could do it there. This is how Glit acquired a lot of information about the worst war crimes, an addiction to drinking high-grade and alcohol, and also a shit ton of frozen sparks that he 'liberated'.

Glit eventually let the Autobots into Grindcore but he absconded rather than take a red badge; he still remembers what the system they were trying to defend was like and doesn't believe a peaceful reform was possible.

Anyhow he fled to Earth where he thought he would be safe, and he was for a while. He married a bar hostess in Kyoto and learned to sing enka music. Helped her with raising her kids, and everything else. Sang in bars. Did a little furry porn on the side with her. Whatever he could do until he got his medical licence back.

Then Megatron took over the planet, oops. Rosanna heard Glit singing and that's how he ended up in her "interspecies friendship" band rather than turned over to the DJD.

Shortly before the end of the war his wife Naoko died, leaving him a mess. While Soundwave made him the Chief Medical Officer of Sanctuary Station (and Chair of the Truth and Reconciliation Committee), and while he did have a medical licence in Japan, he still maintains his OnlyFans site, where he gets a respectable stream of income from former Kiss Players fans, furries and robotfuckers.

And in his thread with Fortress Maximus, he's gone to Luna-1 to help him and Cerebros restore the Tebris VII survivors using the domestication reversal protocol developed by Spinister, because he may be an entertainer and a denizen of the 'mizu-shoubai' (and has no shame about it!) but he is also still one of the best Decepticon medics in the galaxy.

[shallowrambles]

What is your favorite episode or saying from Supernatual

Over time, the lines that have stuck with me are Dean's and Cas's words about trying to get better/be better.

I think Cas's was something like: "You can start being good anytime." and Dean's (to Jack) was "Every day we have to believe we can get better."

I have come to love Optimism for the showcase of Dean's growth away from the fear-clinging in particular.

To Jack, he says: "It's not about being right. You're gonna make mistakes."

And I LOVE that.

///

Sorry I get...rambley when I'm sick:

Since I got here, I notice in fandom that there's a lot of "specialist talk," where ppl identify themselves as an X-girl brand themselves as stuff like: "I'm an understander, I'm a Ph.D is <special topic> and I'm literally always right about my analyses."

And well. I think it was maybe ilarual or angelsdean or maybe even queermania that put it best: SPN is a revolving door where each character goes through periods where they enjoy the moral high ground.

(And I know I've said this a couple times, BUT if I ever go on any of my blogs professing to be "right" or "an understander", please please please shoot me. I'm either already dead or someone is impersonating me.)

The truth is, no one is "right" all the time, in the story or the analysis. All the mains say hurtful things. They all engage in defense mechanisms that hurt others. They all horribly overreach for power, and that reaching for power tends to have multiple, sometimes even competing motives:

(1) For Sam, he wants to be strong to do all this "good guy” stuff, but he also loves the power itself; his tendency to dissociate and sunder his emotions (like *Rowena) can manifest in callous pragmatism. (2) Dean wants to take out the threats, and so many of his arcs are about torturing too! Which is about the revenge power fantasy, of "being the one to dole out the suffering for one (see: Dean in hell, Demon Dean). Dean is neurotically rigid at times because he so desperately wants to keep you safe. (Mary and Dean’s convo in Exodus comes to mind.) (3) Cas wanted to be a "just" God, to put beloved humanity first, but he also really really really wants to punish, becoming authoritarian, demanding adoration, love, etc as reward for his good deeds. Those good deeds ranged from real political threats to thought crimes and run-on-the-mill hypocrisy, often lurching into overly severe punishments.

And Jack ofc, has arcs that echo and represent all three: doomed child that might need to be executed, sacrificial soldier-child, and disconnected heir to the throne/"God."

///

SPN does a pretty good job showing flawed men, and though the flaws of characters like Lisa ("doormat tendencies and people as projects") and Amelia (“currently having a great big OOC freakout/nervous breakdown"), Jo (“become a hero to fill the void of the loss of her father”) are present in small doses, it goes even harder with characters like Amara and Mary! I love love love that no one is an ideal.

So when I talk about it, know that I favor it because it represents how real relationships tend to generate and change. When an ideal exists, it's usually positioned as a fantasy or juxtaposed with a character's psychological wound/big freakout in response to a stressor. (Yes, I think even Sam from season 8 is having a Big Freakout. An "OOC" Nervous Breakdown, if you will. It happens. When Sam goes hard into hunting or gets back into hunting, he tends to overcorrect. He doesn’t wanna “choke again.”)

And Mary Mary Mary…my love. Mary's whole arc was, "I'm not just a mother," because it's trying to make the point that archetypes, even in writing, are just simplified boxes, and we have to step back sometimes and reminds ourselves of that.

///

I feel like the back-half of SPN and especially SPNwin is about loss, closure, and trying to see each other as the flawed selves that we really are. “I wanted you to see that the real Mary was better than (the ideal).”

I feel like sometimes we can veer into distinctly Chuck-coded territory when we pretend we are always right or don't change our minds about a topic OR don't entertain both the least charitable and the most charitable viewpoints.

I've come to realize that I can hold several viewpoints at once, including "Dean as neurotic-controlling villain / Sam as callous-pragmatic villain / Cas as grandiose-idealistic villain," shadowlines. It’s about the anxiety underlying worst self / best self.

Which is pretty cool.

[apostlc-a]

i’m very thankful for my ship partners for one thing that might sound stupid but: there’s more kinds of relationships than romantic ones, and they aren’t any less important, and i am genuinely thankful that i still get to write so many dynamics with him despite him being greyromantic and thus most likely not in that way in love.

[takiarte]

LONG POST!

And sorry for the English mistakes. ▶Léelo en Español aquí◀

A lot of time has passed in my angry hiatus caused by the Tumblr purge. Imagine it was like that: you're starting to do more 3rotic art and counting with THIS site to share it, but from one day to another, BOOM, bye-bye the opportunity. I still feel so betrayed, and more because in 2019-2020 I started a whole project (called Ambrosia, you will see it). See, this fanart of mine represents it all 😂 Before my hiatus here, I was very active as a player and fanartist in Mystic Messenger fandom. Yes, I said "I was".

I consider it important to make all points clear about this, because I have so many already old fanarts to upload about Mystic Messenger, and that doesn't mean I'm still on it. I'm even waiting for a moment when I have the animus to continue a lot of unfinished pieces, but I simply lost my love. Yes, the worst thing that can happen to you 😫 I lost my love for Mystic Messenger and for my favorite character, Saeran. Although that doesn't mean I don't love the memories I created in that fandom, with the game when I enjoyed it, with the beautiful fan arts I saw and artists I meet, and doesn't mean he's not my favorite anymore. He is. This is not the fault of the fandom nor the character's... but CHERITZ's fault.

So you are gonna see me uploading a lot of old art.

Almost FOUR YEARS of old art. And a lot of it (until 2020) is MysticMessenger related. I want to have this post as a reply to the question "Are you going to continue making MM-related things?" And the truth is, no. I may continue unfinished old things (as Ambrosia WIPs waiting for me), or share old things I still don't share, but I doubt I make something new (outside of, for example, commissions).

So...

WHY I LOST MY LOVE for Mystic Messenger?

Here comes the truth. This is all related to Saeran After Ending, so, WARNING!

⚠ SPOILERS, SPOILERS EVERYWHERE ⚠

I'm gonna put a list of Twitter links with numbers that show my reaction when I just played it. The rest of the text is below ⬇

0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18.

(Also, look at this wonderful fanart that also describes my feelings -and that artist also felt betrayed by that AE-)

And here come the 101 reasons why. Angriness advertence! 🤬

As a veteran fan, I think I'm not the only one that wanted the Saeran route to be about Unknown since the start. ANYWAY, I didn't dislike the Ray/Suit!Saeran scheme, but the existence of Another Story opens new plot holes (especially related to how much time Saeran has "hated" Saeyoung, when did V and Rika really "adopted" them (what's their age?), since when Rika started the Mint eye thing, etc). With Saeran AE, they had a BIG OPPORTUNITY of closing a lot of these plot holes. But they didn't.

One of the main reasons I was disappointed is the OOC attitude of the characters, SAERAN INCLUDED (OOC = out of character). I'm not the only fan that felt as if the Cheritz creative writers changed and were all ignoring the character's personalities.

MC is treated as if she is a goddess, she fixes everything (while she is doing NOTHING more than be present). She is praised so much it gave me cringe. I also disliked the reply options we had.

Saeran FORGIVING his father after he almost killed him, is something really, REALLY inconceivable for me. It was the most ridiculous and toxic thing. Are you saying to me that a character that was in mentally ill chaos 'cause of the hate, just goes and forgives one of the persons that ruined his life the most??? NO. PLZ, NO. Yeah, forgiving is a healthy thing to do, but, you are NOT obliged to forgive a person that ruined your life. Just a little research of real-life people psychology explains that clearly.

The psychological accuracy failed, definitely. Saeran had a little of PSTD scenes, but not enough. He was now all bright and "I love you".

Speaking of the "I love you", I felt cloyed. I started to feel as if all was mere fanservice, very empty of the power of that words. He started to say it too much it lost its grace.

Oh, "THE POWER OF LOVE CURES IT ALL". Sorry, but I hate they used that excuse to fix everything. It was a lame shortcut to sum up the plot.

MC is just useless. And what made me most angry is that we are MC. The responses were so... ugh.

Rika, RIKA. She came out unscathed of ALL WHAT SHE DID. And the twin's father too. And I CAN'T FORGIVE THAT. I wanted JUSTICE.

The abuse of the twins during all the days of the AfterEnding was excessive in my opinion. GOOD ENDING? That felt like A NIGHTMARE for me.

The reunion between Saeran and Saeyoung was really disappointing. I wanted a process for them, I wanted to see Saeran progressively forgiving Saeyoung. Learning the truth, processing it, and DECIDING. Not it all happening in the middle of chaos where they were almost ENSLAVED.

Saeran was reckless, it hadn't sense. Where did all his security go? Where did went all that he learned while escaping prison as Magenta? He is supposed to have his personality finally unified, so he has the Suit!Saeran side in him... then, why does he refuse to fight that much? Why did he saw not forgiving as such a BAD thing?

The entire AE is like very dangerous and toxic advice that sounds like "you have to forgive your family because it's your family, it doesn't matter if they ruined your life and attempted to ERASE YOU FROM EXISTENCE since your whole birth". Do you know how many people end up in therapy with anxiety and depression or worst things because of a dysfunctional family? The messages Cheritz sent with MM as a game were (in general) good... until this happened.

Cheritz repeated again the formula of "the counterpart of the route is the enemy" with the V attitude. Although, I never thought of V as a good person.

For real, the only, ONLY things I enjoyed of the AE are that they showed V's true nature (I started to despise him very much in AnotherStory... it was sad for Jumin) and Vanderwood being very cool.

The writing repeats again and again what happened until it gets boring.

I WAS HOPPING Cheritz would remedy what they did in Secret endings, where they put therapy as if it was THE WORST THING in the world for Saeran. I was HOPING to see Saeran (and also Saeyoung) taking therapy and having finally a mentally healthy life. BUT NO, LET'S FIX IT ALL WITH THE POWER OF LOVE WUJUUU

Well. I know I spoke so much more with a friend on Whatsapp but it's gonna be impossible to find all that, and I think I said the most important points already. IT'S A LOT and could be more, I’m sure.

Trying to make me think better of this AE it's a lost cause, don’t even try it. It's been a time, and the strength of my disappointment was big enough.

Hope you get the point of why I was taken to such an extreme. If you are capable of still enjoying MM with the Saeran AE and all, good for you. But for me, it’s not.

Since then, it was never the same again for me. But anyway, I still have good memories and that is not gonna change. And I have so much to share with you. Step by step reviving this blog!