#and over all it felt like no matter how silly the plot got it genuinely mattered to them and had weight?

[jennycalendar]

descending into deadlochposting on main i don't even care. this show is SO GOOD. i think the thing that really stuck with me throughout every episode is how committed it is to not fucking up women, and especially women of color, just to have a Plot Point + for Emotional Resonance!!! every woman on this show gets an ending that feels earned. (and yes that does include margaret carruthers.) there is just so much love woven into this narrative but they still manage to capture the grim miserable reality of patriarchy without EVER reducing a female character we care about to a Murder Victim or having her horrifically brutalized as an ending!!!! like holy shit, guys, it's actually fucking possible! you can create horror blended perfectly with humor and never actually fuck women over!!!

and yeah actually as a woc it felt really fucking good to watch a show where i got to see women of color (aleyna and tammy and sharelle and miranda and faye my beloved <333) just thrive and be silly and stupid and terrible and also lovable. and also, oh my god, revolutionary, NOT GET MURDERED, even though this is literally a fckin murder show!!! i said to my dad like midway through the series that i just got this sense the show understood how goddamn hard it is to watch television sometimes waiting for that character you love, who looks like you and has life experiences that resonate with you, to get killed, or to be treated like she's not important, and how dedicated it is to not just killing off women for shock value. every woman in this show mattered and had meaning and dimension.

because seriously, SO MANY INCREDIBLE WOMEN!!! abby with her perfect little haircut driving off into the sunset saying Of Course She Knows She's Right About Forensics. aleyna and her husband, her whole heart!!!! vanessa who in a lesser show would have been reduced to The Bad Woman, The Bigot, but we are shown how she has been abused and mistreated by men and how that's so informed her perspective + her genuine love for her son! sharelle who lays down the hard truths, who calls them out -- "all this civility but no fucking community" !!! miranda who learns that she doesn't want blood money from a woman who looks down on her cousin! tammy who is literally just all about that footy club the entire time even as men are being murdered and that's honestly so real of her. skye o'dwyer who perfectly captures that Emotionally Unavailable Dad energy except she's a lesbian and i love her. nadiyah who is Trying Her Best :) And Gritting Her Teeth About It :) faye who has no god damn patience for margaret carruthers and all kinds of blunt determined love for her niece and her daughter. vic who throws herself under the bus because she's just so determined to protect anyone she can after the women in this town protected her and kept her secret for so long!!! cath who parents her emotions and is definitely relentless in her guilting but also so relentless in her love. MARGARET CARRUTHERS WHO EXEMPLIFIES SHITTY RICH WHITE WOMAN. and of fucking course, the legends, the buddy-cop duo of all time, dulcie and eddie, who are just perpetually going around like this

except it's not even working because eddie chewed the leash off.

favorite show of the year by far. so so happy about it. rotating it joyfully in my brain for the next week, probably longer.

[whatsa-bi-as]

I Like It

situationship!Han Jisung x gn!reader

plot; you wonder how Jisung feels about you

genre; fluff, angst, questioning

warnings; none I think, please let me know if I've missed any

word count; 0.6k

proofread; @hyuukais was a massive help with this one! Once again made me giggle with some of the things they've said! Go check them out!

networks; @kflixnet and @k-labels

You hadn’t known Jisung very long but there was something about him that was comforting. He was sweet, kind, funny, everything that makes you want to spend time around someone Jisung had.

You quickly became friends, sharing ideas and music, going out for drinks and sharing laughs. It was joyful. That happiness was constant, you would go to his place to watch TV, even if you didn’t like what he was watching, his company was more than enough to make up for it.

Falling for him was easy, as you got closer to him it was impossible not to. The noise of the TV fading into the background as you two laughed. He would mess up your hair to stop you falling asleep only to fix it minutes later saying how soft it was while he did it.

Then one night, while you two were cuddled up, you started to bicker like you usually would. To try and win you moved away, refusing to curl back next to him, and he said

“Fine then. Stay over there, but I bet you’ll come back before I do.”

You were far too stubborn to give into that silly comment so you stayed as you were. Laying next to him barely moving, watching the screen even though you were completely clueless as to what was happening in the storyline. You were hyper aware of his every move, the way you could feel him staring at you as he waited for you to break.

It couldn’t have been more than two minutes before he had his arms wrapped around you again, his head against your neck mumbling about how he lost. It was adorable, you were screwed.

This happened again and again. He would give you countless compliments, kiss your forehead, hold you when you needed it, no questions asked. He would wait to walk you home, come to see you when you needed it most, but it was all so confusing.

This was all while he was barely responding to your texts, but, when he did, he replied with compliments. It was all so confusing you wanted to scream.

You didn’t know what this was. Did any of it mean anything to him? You weren’t together,so long reply times, or no reply at all, couldn’t get you mad but it hurt, that was undeniable.

You told some of your friends about it but most of their replies were that it was cute. You couldn’t really disagree with that but you felt like you were going to scream. Does he like you? It was obvious he was attracted to you but what about genuine feelings?

Every time you felt like the feelings you had for him were fading they would come back with force. He would fall asleep across from you as you read a book, put his hand in your hair like a reflex when you placed your head against him. You could have sworn you were going mad.

You knew that you’d have to tell him eventually. A straight answer would help, but the fear that this would all end held you back. As confusing as it was, it felt good. It was nice to be complimented and held, and when you were in his arms those worries about what you were didn’t matter.

You had no clue what you were or where it was going but my god was it good to be a part of. Eventually you would have to face the consequences of how you were feeling but for now? You were content with seeing where it would lead. This game could go on for eternity and you’d be okay with that.

[yuri-is-online]

Hi Yuri! I hope you are doing well<333 I really enjoy reading your writing and I am always more fond of reading the little octatrio fish gang! I dont really know how this usually works because I never send in any asks at all nor do I see your rules list or anything but if you dont mind I would like to make a request<3

A mc who finds an out of tune and old piano and fondly remembers that they used to play piano back in their world. And perhaps Azul hears in on this and despite the piano being old and out of tune, it is rather beautiful how you play it because of how imperfect the notes are being played out. (SORRY I WAS LISTENING TO FALLEN DOWN AND THE FEELINGS WERE JUST SURGING AND THE BRAINROT WAS TOO MUCH)

You dont have to force yourself or anything! Please take care and dont feel too pressured! <3

The Most Romantic of All Arts (Azul Ashengrotto x Yuu)

Hello dear friend and I am doing quite well thank you! I'm pleased you like my writing; the octotrio is what finally cracked my resolve to check out Twisted Wonderland and put FGO on the back burner so I suppose I shouldn't beat myself up too much for writing about them so much. I am sorry I caused you stress with my lack of rules, I don't usually send requests or asks myself, so I felt really bad to have frightened you. Not too sure if this will end up being what you had in mind, it got away from me a bit.

Also when you say Fallen Down, you do mean the Undertale soundtrack piece right? It's a soothing song I listened to it while I was plotting this to try and get into a similar headspace.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, header taken from the painting Spirit by George Roux (1885) which I found on this wordpres blog article I took the title from, it's a neat painting, Azul learning to find beauty and love in imperfections is important to me ok? Other works can be found on my masterlist here.

Sometimes you wonder if Ramshakle is sentient. The old building has more rooms than you know what to do with, and lovely as the ghosts are they don't fully remember what they were used for, if they remembered in the first place. But still there was something about those rooms that seemed to love you; he guest room almost built itself up around you, the kitchen had only needed some basic repairs before it was ready to help play host again, and no matter where a fire place was found it was always eager to burst to life and warm you and Grim.

It does not have the same love for Azul, he'd complained as much when you talked about just what it was he wanted with the building after the events of his overblot had cooled between you.

"It's got a graveyard in front of it, though?" That really had been the crux of your whole argument. It was hard to be annoyed with his laugh when it sounded so nice, the genuine amusement a refreshing difference to his previous performitive indifference.

"Yes," he muses, sipping at his real before he continues, "I'm not bothered by that much, ghosts and grave ships aren't uncommon sights under the sea, but I always forget how unusual humans think they are."

"There's a lot of superstitions about places where people are buried." You mean it as an explanation, but it brings an odd look to Azul's face, like there's an emotion bubbling beneath his surface he doesn't want to acknowledge but is too strong to suppress. It settles over you both, as you try to focus on drinking your tea while your host seems content to let his grow cold.

"Well, I suppose it's a good thing that ruin isn't really sentient." He sounds almost bitter, disappointed in how long he has let his drink cool you decide as he reaches for the pot and warms it with some fresh tea. "Otherwise, I'd accuse it of trying to keep you."

It's a silly thought, but the sight of this latest discovery really does have you wondering. You are supposed to be in that wonderfully accommodating kitchen making snacks for when Azul decides to "coincidentally drop by" later this evening to "go over the Lounge's expenses" in your guest room. On a Tuesday. When it was almost guaranteed business would be slow enough to keep anyone from wondering too hard about where he'd gone or the twins from being too upset about running things. But instead of "just wanting to try" a new recipe, you are here, tucked in a room just a bit further down the hall from the guest room watching Grim give his best impression of Ace after completing a magic trick. Because stars know he has never seen any other magicians.

"TA-DA!" He puts both of his paws out to really sell the piano at the window. "See, I told you I had a great surprise!"

"I'm sorry for not believing you." You say and try not to laugh with just how much more proud that seems to make him. "But where did you find this? Or how I guess, unless you moved it?"

"Nah." He shakes his head before remembering he's supposed to be the "great" Grim. "I mean I could have! But I'm just so cool I managed to find a piano here already, so all I had to do was clean it up instead! You're welcome henchuman." You scratch just behind his ears and politely ignore his purrs as you examine the piano and its bench. They're old, likely just as ancient as everything else in the dormitory and likely extremely, achingly out of tune. But the mere sight of it makes your fingers itch, and Grim barely has to whine "Well ain't you gonna play somethin'?" Before you're at the bench, experimentally pressing the keys to try and sound out something.

Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are-

You hum it rather than sing, irrationally worried Grim will somehow figure out it's a lullaby and complain that you're babying him instead of cutely dancing along with the music like it's one of the cassettes Deuce let you borrow. He cheers for another, and you oblige, letting your muscle memory carry you as far as it can as you try searching your brain for just what it was you wanted most to hear from yourself after all this time being unable to play.

And missing the click of a heavy door down the hall in the effort.

Azul hears nothing at first, and though it does disappoint, it does not bother him. He's had a long day, one about to be made longer still by the grey zone already draping itself around his thoughts as he shrugs his blazer off to his shoulders while en route to the Ramshackle guest room. He pauses, for what he tells himself is only going to be second, at the kitchen door and is left unrewarded for his detour.

You aren't there: and that does bother him somewhat, even if it should not if his pretext is to be believed. These visits were too commonplace to be random, but maybe you'd made plans, deciding not to look past his excuses for the evening. Maybe you were asleep, tired of the day or just plain tired of him. But there is a kettle sat on it's base, mercifully not on just yet, but two mugs and the pour over cone set next to as if it was expecting company. The nerves remain knotted in his stomach, though the cause shifts towards something more welcome.

So you do have a mug purposefully set aside and designated just for him, and is that a little recpie card with notes on coffee taped to that tin? These things should worry him, the picture he snaps and immediately hides in a folder should be for a purpose. But it's separate from those ones, labeled something inane and barely full with how careful he is to have his longing remain unseen. He wonders, briefly if it would be an intrusion to make the drinks himself. If it would reveal to much to show outright he knows the way you take yours instead of just saying it in time with your order, but knows that would not be the exact issue here. He is a guest, and guests limit themselves to the halls and that room he forces himself, with haste that would be noticeable if you were there to see it, back down the hall and back towards the guest room. Azul has work to do, he can content himself with the warmth the mental image the cups on the counter produces until something forces him to pause at a door once more. The piano is old, droning out a tune that is unpolished and rusty from the player's lack of practice but filled with such a specific sort of joy it has him actually running towards it.

You sit at the bench, a serious look of determination on your face so unlike the usual Yuu it can't help but be cute. Grim sleeps contentedly on your lap as you continue searching for the threads of melody still trapped inside your head from years of only occasionally reluctant practice. It's an unfamiliar tune in composition, but not in feel. There's words to this song, maybe not in the form of lyrics, but there all the same for him to stumble even closer to as he comes to a halting stop just behind you and the music ends in a surprised crash as you whip your head around to see him.

"Azul!"

"Very sorry to interrupt." He holds up both hands in surrender, composure only just maintained as you check to see Grim still asleep and laugh nervously. "I didn't know you could play."

"Can't really." You say somewhat bitterly and more confidence comes to Azul as a slight plan froms in his mind. "I'm really out of practice ugh. I know it shouldn't annoy me! But with how everything's been since I showed up, it's just not been on my mi- Oh hello?"

Azul fully removes his jacket and sets it on a side table close to where he had been satanding, moving to sit on the bench next to you. He has enough mercy not to loosen his tie or do anything else scandalous, but the close examination he gives to the keys could have fooled you. "Pity it's so out of tune, this is a nice piano."

"I know right! I'm really happy Grim found it." You resist the urge to poke his cheeks some and Azul lightly, trying not to too openly relish in your surprise reaches one arm around your back to place his hands into a similar position as you had been earlier, tucking you close to his side.

"May I?" He's smug. Too smug it's robbing you of sanity.

"What's it going to cost?" You try too hard not to sound like you're flailing as you look to see your question hasn't even phased him at all.

"Oh normally I wouldn't dream of charging for a performance," he clearly lies "but it's been such a long day I wouldn't say no to a cup of coffee." And he's off, music only marred by the off key of the piano in a clearly purposeful display of talent meant to sear itself into your mind enough that you don't think about his request too long. You and he are from two different worlds, but he knows that music has a way of gapping that if the stories of the mermaid princess told him anything at all. So when he purposefully slows the song at its end, he knows you know, that tricky smile he swore once he'd always hate kicking his heartbeat up again as you lean fully against his shoulder.

"Beautiful." You say, not bothering to give the compliment direction as he can't help but agree. "We should play together next time."

"I-" You pick yourself up and what he wants to say slows when you pick up his jacket for him and hold out a hand. Later, he all to easily decides. Later, without Grim and with specific time set purposefully aside so you know just how much it matters. "I would like that. You'll have to show me the songs that you can remember from your world." And he takes your hand just to soothe some of the ache, trying and failing not to show just how happy he is when you keep it.

[ppupkit]

how are you doing after the last 3 episodes of arcane

full spoilers for act 3 , long rant ahead ( sorry ദ്ദി (ᵒ̴̶̷᷄﹏ᵒ̴̶̷᷅) ). apologies if this is incoherent i ended up pulling an all nighter to watch act 3 and have had a busy few couple of days so i am a very gleeby little maddie atm..

i'm mostly upset and angry about it because it was just handled so poorly... like it was genuinely so ( ._. )"" i've talked about it elsewhere but i don't even really know what to say. i'm so upset about the way they sidelined the important character arcs and actual plot for timebomb sillies and a goofy over the top mel arc that was extremely rushed and didn't even bring the closure it was meant to about her dad and all of that. also 90% of the act being jayvik and it completely ignoring isha , sevika , and for the most part jinx , caitlyn , and vi... it's so disheartening i'm honestly not taking it well i feel just sort of upset and overall down. arcane has meant so much to me and it feels like all of the characters who i love so much just didn't even matter like i went on this journey with them all for nothing. there's so much more i could and would like to say but this is already getting long and i just feel an overwhelming amount of negative emotions at the moment. i'm going to continue making content for arcane ( mostly focusing around maddie , maddiecait , and maddiecaitvi because autism goes crazy ) but i might need a day or two to gather my thoughts and process everything. this act was super disappointing in every way. like i love mel and for the whole rest of the season was curious about her arc but it went from 0 to 100 so fast and was so campy it just didn't even feel like arcane. i think it's so insane that sevika didn't even speak once and that isha wasn't even mentioned like i just can't get past that. also they rushed caitvi's relationship so badly like we needed to see caitlyn's arc fully wrapped up with her coming to terms with all that she'd done , taking responsibility and apologizing to vi. we didn't get any of that though which is baffling to me..... also the implication of vi being a cop , sevika being on the council , vi just brushing over jinx's death ? it's so out of character. also with maddie , i have mixed feelings. i was hoping she'd do something big and i think i can definitely get behind the idea of her being a spy but it just doesn't line up with what was shown onscreen ? it felt like a major copout idk. i have many maddiecait and maddiecaitvi thoughts that i'll post on my main having to do with it but i'm just REALLY wishing we got to see more of maddie behind the scenes and that she got to be more fleshed out onscreen and not just through implications. like i like timebomb they're cute and all but episode 7 just felt so pointless and wasted like we could've used that time to actually be able to flesh out maddie or focus more on caitlyn / caitvi or on jinx and isha. i just don't see the point at all of that episode and i can't get past them just pretending isha never existed in favor of having a cute little timebomb au episode. : \

[melanated-writersblock]

OMGP Prologue

For those of you that actually appreciate some sort of plot😩🍸

For as long as you’ve known him, Toji Fushiguro has never been one to back down from a challenge. He’s always going out of his way to prove you wrong and it only got more frequent after you two got together. So when you made a passing joke about how Toji wouldn’t be able to survive the infamous No Nut November, he took that shit to heart.

And the challenge was set.

But it’s not like he was just doing it for the sake of novelty, there was a reward. You and Toji made a pact that if he completed No Nut November SUCCESSFULLY, then when the clock stuck 12 midnight on December 1st, he could have you. Whenever he wanted. However he wanted. You offered up more days, in case he’d need breaks. But he insisted, saying he only needed one. And when you two shook on it, Toji smiled, because he knew he’d win.

The month was long, and obviously it was a pain not being able to touch him and him touch you. The sexual tension that radiated off of the both of you when lounging in opposite sides of your apartment felt stronger than any cursed energy a sorcerer could possibly harness. It was almost concerning. Finally, November 30th came.

2:30 PM.

There was a certain…peace…that fell over the apartment, all day. You knew Toji was around, because you could hear his footsteps and movements when he went to do stuff….but it seemed like he was purposely avoiding you. Matter of fact, you KNEW he was avoiding you!

7:45 PM.

You were in the kitchen making dinner and needed something from an overhead cabinet above the stove, and SOMEONE decided to conveniently place it further back than you could manage. Toji watched you from the living room couch as you bent over the stove slightly, reaching as far back into the cabinet as you could for garlic salt that genuinely shouldn’t have been there. He studied the way the hem of your shorts rode up your ass cheeks and got caught between your thighs. He wanted to be between them so badly. He NEEDED to. He wanted to see you struggle for a bit, before he could put you out of your misery. At least in the only way that was allowed, for now. “Stop, before you hurt yourself. I got it.” You hadn’t even processed that Toji was already behind you when he leaned over you to grab the seasoning salt. Oh god he was so close. He smelled good, he FELT good, big and firm, like he’d gotten impossibly stronger or something. It made you wonder how many poor sorcerers had to suffer because of this silly little bet. His abs pressed against the folds of your clothed back, and maybe you were just that feral, but you swore on your soul you could feel his hardness right against your ass. You didn’t dare look him in the eyes…unless you were ready to throw your 30 day streak down the fucking drain. He knew what he was doing to you, and he enjoyed that it was working. Toji handed the spice to you, smiling to himself before walking off. You finally stopped holding your breath, and went back to cooking.

9:26PM.

Time was tormenting you both. You took your 2nd cold shower of the day and it didn’t help a damn thing. Toji flipped through channels to try to distract himself from even looking in the direction of the bathroom in your shared bedroom.

10:32 PM.

Toji poured a glass of water in the kitchen, and you watched from behind your phone screen on the couch as he drank, and droplets of water trickled down his chin…down his neck…down to his fitted SavagexFenty shirt that you actually regret buying for him right about now. This man had the actual BALLS to LOOK AT YOU while this was happening. Your eyes stayed locked on each other while he came back to sit on the other couch across the room. He was almost at the finish line.

11: 45 PM.

You laid in bed, dozing off. You decided to turn in after you felt like the tension between you and Toji started to die down. In and out of sleep, your eyes lazily swayed between the clock on your nightstand and the cracked bedroom door where faint light from the living room TV reflected on it. Everything was so peaceful that you hadn’t even noticed your clock inching towards 11:58 PM. You close your eyes for a mere few seconds, opening them to see Toji removing his shirt as he walks through the bedroom door tossing it off to the side as he walks towards you, undoing his sweatpants with a devilish smile.

It’s officially midnight. December 1st is here. And you’re in for a long day.

December 1st

[dreamerwriternstargazer]

I slept in today

My stomach hurts a lot less. I’m not feeling so sick and I am hungry

Yesterday was… is… too much still, I can’t wrap my head around it

I’m not having bad dreams exactly but I’m not having good ones and the dreams are… disorienting

So I’m going to continue watching Doctor Who with my friend today ^_^ we watched Aslyum of the Daleks and she REALLY enjoyed it said she really liked the silliness and sarcasm of 11 and Clara’s dynamic and the plot twist got her

She also really liked Amy and Rory

And I specifically asked if we could continue today it’s only meant to be Fridays but I need the distraction and she was really interested and I think she wants to help me, so she said yes ^_^

So… Snowmen today

I want to study, but I’m also…. My brain’s just broken and I could barely concentrate on Doctor Who yesterday. So I’m just gonna ride this out. If I find at some points I feel ready to or interested in studying I will, but I’m at like… barely able to function settings

And I’m scared because, this is obviously putting me back a bit in work and studies. But also, I think my dadi’ammi genuinely needs regular help and visits and how can I do that if… if I’m not functioning for days after a visit? I want to help.

Suddenly my struggle before of having to visit randomly seems like nothing, at least it wasn’t regular

I don’t want to have to say ‘I can’t help/visit’ either. I could, my mum worries it’s too much for me but I refuse I can’t… admit it cripples me that much

I’ll figure this out I just need to process. Too much yesterday to process

I think one thing I did figure out though. Me getting worse in the past year? It’s the isolation.

I would still pick this over lying and faking it and my boundaries being crossed. But I understand now why I put it off so long, confronting him, I understand why I’ve become so much more paranoid and depressed. Because I knew this would happen, I knew I’d be treated as an outcast from the family. And I can joke on the good days and I genuinely… I know that I’d rather be an outcast than to continue on knowing the kind of people I’m surrounded by, and pretending it wouldn’t be true for me.

Because sooner or later the dream ends right? It needed to for Oswin

But it’s torturous realising. Realising you are trapped by the Daleks and surrounded by them, and all along you thought you were doing okay. It’s torturous and infuriating and painful realising you aren’t anything to them, all of them.

The dream feels nice, soothing, like nothing bad could really happen.

But it already did. They were already… this. But it hurts to finally feel it and see it.

And there’s so many factors to how I’m struggling more, it’s also true that I’m doing a lot better in some ways. I’m not really isolated, I have just dropped the fake family and I need to build a real one. It just so happens that the injuries I’m suffering are making it so so so hard to connect again.

Oswin still won though ^_^ torture and all.

She wasn’t a Dalek even after their attempts at a full conversion

Even after the dream fell away.

She still beat them.

This post is messy I apologise my mind is still…. Basically incoherent

It made me smile bitterly when we were talking when I noticed my aunt, pointing out all the stuff I had to in childhood, validating me. Like oh you dealt with so much more than just teen hormones you took care of the house and stuff

It felt condescending. And blind to all I’ve dealt with in reality. I didn’t just mother my siblings I older sister-d the rest of you lot, only you keep punishing me for it. Anyway it doesn’t matter because I won’t anymore

*shakes head and buries my face into pillows*

I’m… I’m really dissociated now and I feel like I can’t feel. Or make sense of anything. I can’t even comfort myself or calm myself it’s like I can’t grasp at any of it

It’ll pass. It’ll pass Insha’Allah

I’m not completely shut down I can write this… yesterday I felt too destroyed to… talk much.

So it’s passing.

[thescrapbookingscientist]

Bimonthly Media Roundup

- Wind Breaker (Anime) - Not gonna lie, I mainly picked this up because I saw this dude's (Togame's) character design in an AMV and went "All right, let's see what this is all about then". This first season has big Sk8 energy, a silly and wholesome little show about homo-erotic dudes taking their underground hobbies way too seriously. I mean that as a compliment of course, This was fun, and made me laugh quite a bit both on a genuine level and a "what is even happening boys please your all like 15 it's not that dramatic I promise" way. I do appreciate how wholesome it is with it's "a community looks after and supports each other message" and how comically put upon and cute the wet cat of a protagonist is, though occasionally the worldbuilding can get a little too silly to be honest. I mean. Does this school have any classes, or teachers, or adults in general? If the protagonist was abandoned by everyone to the point where he has no contacts in his phone, where is he getting the money to live? Why is all crime committed by or solved by gangs of roaming highschoolers? Whatever, to be honest it's not like any of that actually matters as the show is a bit self aware of it's own fantasy in a "We know it's silly, just roll with it and you'll have fun" way, which I respect. I do think it could stand to flesh out the main cast a bit more and some of the conflicts got pretty ridiculous, but the fight choreography and protagonist where fun and the mood was nice, it's a good popcorn show for people who like it's genre.

- The Weakest Tamer Began a Journey to Pick Up Trash (Anime) - This was cute enough, though didn't have a lot too it. Kinda felt like a lesser version of Campfire Cooking where the cutesy protagonist befriends a rare slime and big powerful mammal then travels around a fantasy world making peoples lives better, but Campfire Cooking had good food, a faster pace, and a more substantial dynamic between the leads which is honestly really lacking here. The ending of the season was also quite strange, given there really wasn't any reason the protagonist should keep traveling other than that the story would be over if she did. Also uh slavery is a casual part of this universe which doesn't seem to bother the lead at all? Okay? I don't mean to rag on this show, it really is quite cute, I like the animation and the lead and her little slime friend, it just really needs to pick up the pace or introduce some more substantial characters for her to play off of if it wants to keep my interest.

- MSG: The Witch From Mercury (Anime) - Welp, I have a lot of mixed feelings on this one, as overall I think it is quite a good show, but on a personal level I had difficulty finishing it. This was mostly my fault to be honest, I don't usually watch TV alone and when I do it never gets my full attention (multitasking as the default), which was a pretty big mistake with a lore heavy show like this that I didn't have an English dub access too. I kept missing essential plot elements, either by my own fault or because they were never explained all that well in the beginning, so by the end I was pretty lost on what exactly was happening and what any of the characters motivations even where, lots of people just yelling and fighting while shouting sci-fi buzzwords. I take full responsibility for this as if I had been paying full attention I likely would have been pretty engaged, as I do like the idea of the protagonists having to deal with corporate politics intersecting with actual human welfare as a central plot point, as well as finding both Suletta and and Miorine to be solid characters with a really sweet and compelling relationship, but I just couldn't bring myself to get invested when I had no idea what the stakes where. Maybe I'll do a rewatch of this with a friend and see it as the masterpiece everyone else does, but for now I appreciate the yuri but could care less about the robots. Oh, also shout out to overall body/racial diversity and character design in general, that was very good too.

- The Apothecary Diaries (Manga) - Gave in and caught up on the manga rather than waiting for the anime, which I don't regret cause boy is it an interesting and bingeable series. In an effort to keep brief, everything I said about the anime still stands here, MaoMao is a fantastic protagonist, Her relationship with Jinshi is fun and her connections with the courtesans are interesting, The setting is great as are the individual mysteries, it's just a fun series all around. Weird thing about this series though is that my friend and I where both reading it yet contradicting each other, only to find out that there are two separate versions of the manga floating around, each one a different artist depicting the same novel. Very strange, though it seems like it would be fun to do a comparison between the two.

- Scavengers Reign (TV) - Only 2 episodes in so far but very cool art and weird creatures, very messed up vibes, I'm liking it.

- When the Third Wheel Strikes Back (Webcomic) - Caught up with Season 2, which has a new artsyle. On the whole the art is definitely better, the backgrounds, clothing variety, magic effects, and overall framing of the panels has improved, but I will say I rather liked the softer, more rounded look of a lot of the people in the old style, particularly the lead. Plot wise I'm liking the faster pace and look into Jesse's relatives that season 2 is offering, as well as more quality time with the 3 leads together.

- Yellowjackets (TV) - We'll save the survivalist lesbian cannibalism show for next time, but uh the mystery has been pretty cool with this one.

- Dungeon Meshi (Manga) - Yup Yup.

- Genshin Impact (Video Game) - Yup.

Listening To: Dial Drunk by Chloe Breez, Rule #18 - Lion by Fish in a Birdcage, Let Me Love You by Alex Goot, The Killing Kind by Marianas Trench, Hear You Me by Jimmy Eat World, Feeling Good and Stick Season by Reinaeiry, Break My Heart by Hey Violet, Could Have Been Me by The Struts, The Main Character by Will Wood, Rabbit Heart by Florence + The Machine, Bittersweet by Panic! At The Disco, HOT TO GO! By Chappell Roan, Tongues and Teeth by The Crane Wives, Taste and Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter.

[nectardaddy]

Thirteen Years [Porco Galliard x reader] 18

** Trigger Warning: blood, death, very graphic descriptions, mentions of war, ptsd, disassociation, very very dark scenarios/scenes/and imagery.

Please take care of yourselves while reading here on out, if you need a break take a break. Things will get very heavy.

Note: creative liberties will be taken from here on out, the main plot stays the same but minor details are changed for the sake of this story

Strap in for this. It's long and very, very dark.

"What the hell do you mean I can't sit with them?" You questioned loudly, and quite rudely, to the Marleyan soldier in front of you. "He's my fiancé, why the fuck does my arm band matter right now??" You prodded more, crossing your arms over your chest with determination. "Ask him yourself, Mr. I Hate Eldians!" Porco and the other Honorary Marleyans looked over to your voice, the others looking at him in worry as soon as they realized it was you.

"Galliard!" The soldier called out to the blonde who stared warily at you. "Control your filthy pet, or I'll have to get rid of it!" He got up quickly, nearly tripping over Pieck as he crossed in front of her to get over to where you were.

"Filthy pet?!" You yelled, "so high and mighty you are huh? That stick is so far up your-" Porco quickly took your arm and pulled you away gently from the uniformed man before you could continue, though you wished he hadn't. "We're engaged, why the hell does it matter that I don't have a red armband yet?" You groveled. His steps were frantic as he desperately tried to get you as far away from where they sat as possible, knowing your temper would only get you into trouble.

"(Y/n), please," the man said gently. "I know it's frustrating, believe me, but the arm bands matter to them. Please, control your temper," he pleaded. "He'll shoot you without a second thought at the rate you're going, so please."

Taking in a deep breath through your nose and letting it out through your mouth, you felt your anger leave you bit by bit. "I just wanted to sit with you," you whispered. "It's not fair I have to sit without you, just because of a silly armband." You realized his steps slowed until he finally stopped and looked over at you with a sad smile. There was a grief in his eyes that was apparent to you, which made your heart sink and guilt wash over you. You probably frightened him greatly from how you were speaking to a Marleyan soldier, he of all people knew how ruthless they could be. "I'm sorry."

"I know it's not fair to you, but I promise I'll come find you as soon as this stupid thing is over," he reassured. A genuine smile pulled onto his lips after a moment, "it's alright. Just, please, never do that again, I nearly had a heart attack," he admitted. "Thank god the man called for me instead of taking matters into his own hands," he breathed out before finally pulled you into a hug. His hold was strong, thinking any less and you would drift away from him, but it was brief. "I have to get back, if I'm gone too long they'll start to question." With only a quiet nod, you looked at him with a small smile, "please, stay out of trouble. I can't leave unless I'm told to."

"Ok, ok, I'll save the fights for when you're with me," you mused with a chuckle. "Now go, I'll feel even worse if you get in trouble over me." He gave your hand a final squeeze before walking back, watching as he left with a sad smile on your face. "Stupid Marleyans," you grumbled under your breath before turning. Looking around to see where you were supposed to sit, and sighed upon seeing it. A tightly packed horde of people huddled together as far away from the stage as possible, "of course," you mumbled.

Shoving your hands in your pockets, you let out another sigh. No way in hell you were managing to get in there, so finding the closest building adjacent to the horde- you leaned. Minutes that felt like hours passed before anything of stature happened. Though most around you found Willy Tybur mesmerizing, you felt yourself being quite bored as you stood there. But your attention was pulled by a different soldier who passed you, seemingly all looking the same you wouldn't have taken another look if it wasn't for the three he had in tow. Your lover gave you a wary look and gave a small shake of his head. Getting the "don't follow or you might get shot" message loud and clear, you stayed put.

Rolling your eyes, minutes continued to creep by, and your attention was piqued by people gasping around you. You weren't paying attention at all, losing yourself within your own mind as a means to try to make time go faster. But in the very moment, you wished you had been, but you knew something was wrong. A line of soldiers ran in front of you and your stomach dropped upon the hushed words of, 'find them!' You quickly turned the corner and left, you knew better than to stay and watch panic unfold if something truly was wrong. Something you remembered from your candidate training was to never stay longer in a bad situation unless you had to. Even if your intuition was wrong, you'd rather jump ship now than drown in the shipwreck.

Oh how correct your intuition had been, being as a loud screech and a terrible crumbling rang in your ears as soon as you turned. You didn't dare turn back, fighting your curiosity as your pace to a run. Your heart rate sky rocketed, thinking to yourself you could feel it in your throat as you ran. You soon realized others had the same idea as you began to be pushed and shoved out of others way. A sickly feeling of fear washed over you, and the screeching sound from seconds ago echoed in your ears again. "It's the island Titan!"

Your breathing stopped upon the revelation someone had yelled beyond you, and all became slow motion as you continued to run. The island devils were here, in Liberio? Why? Did they know we were declaring war? Did Porco know they were here? You hadn't noticed someone had shoved you hard, hadn't noticed you went tumbling to the ground, hadn't noticed how people kicked and bound over you, hadn't noticed the blood that trickled from you knees and elbow, hadn't noticed your body was moving in complete autopilot to crawl to the nearest alley. Nor the two soldiers there, looking around just as baffled as everyone else, but only noticed when a shot rang out and killed one of them dead. "Fuck-" you breathed as reality slammed into with force. You watched as the other soldier locked eyes with you before running in the opposite direction, swallowing hard as you were left alone with a corpse.

You pressed yourself against the wall and took a shaky breath, your mind racing until all went blank. What was there to think, really, in this situation? Thinking it was a dream, you pinched your leg hard but whimpered knowing you couldn't wake up from real life. Taking a deep breath, you tried to calm yourself, think rationally. 'I was a candidate for awhile, what the fuck did they tell me to do?' You thought to yourself, swallowing and closing your eyes as you thought of an answer. Survive.

Mindlessly getting up, and letting fear utterly consume you, you grabbed the gun off the soldier who lie just before you. Shakily cocking it to check for bullets, then slinging it over your arm by the strap. Grabbing the bag of bullets from the dead man as well, you felt nauseous. "Pull yourself together, (Y/n)," you breathed. But nonetheless, you turned to heave, letting your stomach contents splatter on the ground next to you. 

Breathing deeply once you heaved, you closed your eyes. Fear racing through your every fiber of being only making your nausea worse, you tried to disassociate yourself - something Marleyans taught young Warrior candidates early as to combat recklessness. Finally breathing out and reopening your eyes, you found yourself in a trance like state. Feeling your body move on its own in order to save yourself, as if watching yourself from above rather than your own eyes.

A strange wizzing from above made you tense, and you aimed and fired, mindlessly pulling the trigger as you were taught years ago. Frightening yourself as you so easily pulled the trigger without a second thought, pulling you from your disassociate state quickly. "Shit, shit, shit," you yelled to yourself and frantically looked around for somewhere to hide. Finding a door meters front of you, you sprinted and yanked on the handle. Pulling the door open and slamming it behind you, you heaved your back against the door.

"What the fuck?" You yelled to no one in particular, screaming and yelling curses as you finally felt yourself unravel. Over your own deteriorating mind, you hadn't heard the other loud voices in the room. But jerked into consciousness as the door behind you swung open, losing your balance at the force it took to barge in. A man in black and grey stood over you, your heart thumping wildly in your throat as you scrambled for the gun you had before falling. Mind blank and world in slow motion yet again, you grabbed the gun as he lifted a weapon you had never seen above you. Without aiming, without even looking you fired as soon as your finger met the trigger.

A sickly crack made your ears ring, and the splatter of blood hitting you in the face made your stomach drop in horror. "Oh my god," you whispered. "Oh my god, I killed him. . ."

"(Y/n)! Fucking christ please answer, for the love of god are you ok?" But the voice feel on deaf ears as you stared off to the man who laid dead before you. Only snapping back to reality once other Eldians stood in front of the open door, though you couldn't tell how long that had been. You recognized them, and completely unraveled at the sight of a familiar face within your terror. Letting out a sob you never knew you were even capable of.

"Oh fuck. . ." One of the man stated, assessing the scence in front of him. The other swiftly closing the door behind them from more unwanted attention. One of the men had to all but pry the gun out of your hands as you clung onto it, pleading with you that you were alright. Unbeknownst to you, the others made their way further inside and called out into a deep hole within the floor.

Snapping your watery, blurred eyes towards the men, you took in a deep breath. "Who is this?" You asked angerly through tears, "and why the fuck did he try to kill me?" Your shattered mind kept shifting from horror to anger, grabbing the gun you stole from the dead soldier out of the hands of the Eldian in front of you.

"An island devil," he replied softly, answering honestly seeing as your mind was completely disheveled.

Your knuckles paled at how hard you gripped the gun in your hands, fingers losing feeling as you moved with anger. You knew what you were doing now, no longer running on autopilot but completely out of your own free will - running off of adrenaline, fear, and anger. Hot tears streamed down your face as you lifted the gun over you, ramming the butt of it into the already deceased man. "I hate you!" You screamed as you lifted the gun only to throw it back down again, over and over, hearing the cracking of bones and splatter of blood fill your ears. "You, stupid, stupid, island devils! You've ruined everything!"

The men watched in horror at your anger; they knew the terrors of war but even this was too raw for them to let continue. But they stayed, too stuck in their own fear to even dare stop you on your rampage. There was no greater fear than a person scorned. Blood and tears dripped down your face and your arms ached, but you only stopped upon feeling a hand grab your arm. Whipping around, gun still in hand, you pointed it at the person who grabbed you.

The blonde's arms shot up as the muzzle of the gun pointed directly at his face, swallowing harshly. "(Y/n)," he whispered. The young woman next to him looked at you with panic and worry, her eyes flicking between the gun and you. Both of them took in your disheveled state in absolute terror. You eyes were wild, and your clothes were torn and splattered with crimson, the crimson color even dripping down your face from the sheer amount on you. "Put the gun down, dear, it's alright."

"Did you fucking know they would be here?" You asked harshly, surprising even yourself that you hadn't lowered the gun. The anger you felt was greater than anything you felt, a rage you were certain you had never felt before.

"No." Pieck whispered in response, seeing as Porco only stared at the gun pointed at him by his own lover. Dropping the gun at such a simple word, you sucked in a deep breath. Panting as if you were holding your breath the whole time, you felt strong arms around you as tears continued to stream down your cheeks.

"I'm sorry," you choked out, "oh god, I'm so sorry." You cried as you finally found the will to hug the man back.

[charlesmoffat]

PART ONE

It is 1:50 in the morning and about an hour ago I just downloaded a random audiobook to help me sleep. After listening to the first 3 chapters I made the following conclusion:

The author doesn't know how to write action scenes.

The action sequence in chapter 3 was just... bad. Horribly bad.

I am not going to mention who the author/book is, but suffice to say this person obviously hasn't studied how to write a good (or even a decent) action scene. It was just clunky and over the top, as if the author had watched too many cheaply made action films and had never read any books where the author is genuinely good at writing action.

Nor was this the first time in the audiobook when I thought something was off.

There was a scene back in chapter 1 where an underling entered a room and the dialogue felt clunky with characters speaking in a manner that nobody would ever talk like in real life.

And then there's the matter of the 'contrived romance', which I am going to describe as the author just assuming that certain things are romantic, but in reality they're not and instead make me (the reader) feel as if they are rushing through the romance bits just for the sake of lip service of claiming that this is a romantic book, when I now suspect that it is not.

It is more like a hot mess pretending to be a fantasy/romance.

After listening to the first 3 chapters I turned the audiobook off, turned on a lamp so I could see, and proceeded to make the following meme:

And no, I am not listening to an erotica audiobook, although I kinda wish I was because maybe it would be written better than the hot mess I downloaded.

What I managed to find by downloading a random audiobook was:

An author who sucks at writing dialogue.

An author who sucks at writing action scenes.

An author who sucks at writing romance.

Now, I should say that it is possible for a romantic fantasy author to suck at 1 or 2 of these things and still make a halfway enjoyable book, but if they suck at all 3 then it is just unforgivable.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how to write a negative book review without ever mentioning the name of the book or the author.

PART TWO

So now it's 4 AM and I am still thinking about this.

If someone is writing a romance book, and that is supposedly their forte, then you would expect the romance bits to be well written and not just poorly written lip service.

And if it is just a lip service romance and the action/adventure fantasy is the main plot then you would expect the action scenes to be well written.

Except neither of these things are well written. They're just poorly done and shows a lack of finesse by the author. Like they didn't even care to try.

Okay fine, the romance bits and the action are poorly written.... What about the other parts?

Well, the dialogue is unrealistic dribble...

And the descriptions in the books are so short I don't even know what ANY of the characters even look like, let alone buildings, landscapes or anything else.

And the plot is generic. Nothing special.

In short, there's no redeeming features about the book*.

* Well, not exactly. The voice actor narrating the audiobook version did a surprisingly good impression of Sean Connery when performing the voice of a minor character. But that is literally the only redeeming quality and it isn't something that the author can brag about because it is just the voice actor choosing to make a character sound like a celebrity and has nothing to do with the author.

And what boggles my mind is that this particular audiobook is available in a library via the app Libby (this is not an advertisement, I am just mentioning what app I use to get free audiobooks using my library card). So somehow this audiobook got made and put into a library database, even though the story is horrible.

What silly person thought it was a book worth putting in a library?

How low are the standards of some readers that they would a lip service romance/fantasy that is so poorly written?

Seriously, an AI could write a better book.

Maybe this is one of the unseen benefits of AI. Artificial Intelligence will flood the market with poorly written stories and authors who write poorly written trash will find that they either need to improve their skills or change careers.

Anyway, time to try to sleep again...

[lilgynt]

This cole season better hit bc I’ll be real with y’all season 11 and 12 just ain’t it ://///

[newhumantype]

this is weird but i saw your tags on an old post abt darryl and white josh from cxg "#their breakup leaves a bad fucking taste in my mouth#i could go off about cxg's lazy self-righteous and hypocritical treatment of romantic narratives#but i won't :)" and listen i would LOVE to hear

not weird at all! hope you like essay-length responses lmao.

the tl;dr is that i feel like the anti-narrative ethos driving the latter half of craxy ex-girlfriend was extremely unsuccessful and made the show kind of eat its own arm off.

"life doesn't make narrative sense" is a great message, and I do see where they were going with it and how it applies to rebecca's life. however, the problem is that, no matter how much the show switched up traditional storytelling methods, cxg began as and remained a fictional serialized television show with its own defined narrative.

take darryl and white josh's breakup. i fully believe that if people had felt as neutral about darryl x whiJo as they did about, say, heather x hector, they would've been endgame lol. but since fans shipped them and wanted them to stay together, the writers had them break up to make sure that they knew that "life doesn't make narrative sense." A really well-written and beloved romantic couple was unrealistic, but couples like heather and hector (i don't mean to pick on them because i like them fine!) and, far worse, darryl and the woman he met at the end of the show, ARE realistic specifically because they aren't fun or narratively well-developed?

the last season is even worse. they spent 17 EPISODES (some of my favorite shows barely have 17 episodes total) actively trying their hardest to entice the audience to take a "side" regarding rebecca's romantic life with the clear intention of going "psych" at the end. I can't help but feel that they must have wanted 1) people to genuinely pick a side so they could sucker punch them with their message at the end, AND/OR 2) make people feel silly for ever having picked a side previously.

that all just feels so disingenuous to me because, over the years, the show really made the connections between rebecca and each of her boyfriends seem (to varying degrees) genuine at certain times, so for them to then be like "lol isn't this whole tv show romance thing a ridiculous notion?" feels like a bit of a reductive take, you know? I really liked rebecca's boyfriends as characters, i became invested in them and their journeys. i was never invested in shipping her with any of them, but would it really be so bad if someone was? after all, they literally wrote them as genuine love interests.

plus there were just sooo many missed opportunities in that last season. I didn't particularly enjoy seeing the guys manipulated into rebecca-obsessed robots who would do anything to earn her love to serve the season arc. instead, imagine if the writers had pulled a bojack horseman and started focusing on josh and nathaniel (and other characters) moving on from her and having their own stories. what if we'd seen Josh meet/fall for his girlfriend or seen nathaniel starting out at the zoo?

Why make everything in a season be about romance when the ultimate message is that romance isn't everything? why tell us using this really silly love quadrangle plot when they could have just shown us?

and don't even get me started on greg. i want to preface this next statement with the caveat that i admittedly watched cxg years after it finished airing. by myself. and didn't discuss it with anyone. so maybe it's just me. however, from the first second greg came back in s4, i got extremely strong vibes that the writers felt he was the best romantic fit for rebecca. every scene he was in just seemed to have more weight to it, and he was the one who'd done the most to work on himself of the three guys. and there's just something so hypocritical about making such a strong point about her not picking someone only to - in my opinion - quite prominently hint at her best/most likely choice while also refusing to definitively make that choice. like if you're going to say that it was never about the individual guys but about rebecca choosing herself, don't show a preference for one of them! and if you have a preference for one because he's bettered himself/matured more than the others, be brave enough to come out and say so directly!

this comes back to the narrative thing. i believe they didn't want to take a side on her romantic life not only because they wanted to end with her choosing herself (which is a really nice message that fits well with the show overall) but also because no matter which one they picked, some fans would be happy. some group of people would have a cute, idyllic romantic story with the happy ending they'd always wanted. and that would directly go against the "life doesn't make narrative sense" ethos. because they felt that anything with a clean narrative - like a fan favorite couple being endgame - would defy this notion, they simply couldn't do it.

this is why i say they ate their own arm off. they created interesting characters and stories only to eventually unceremoniously snuff them out out or take a bizarre left turn with them rather than take them to an interesting and organic place. it really felt like the writers came to interpret "life doesn't make narrative sense" as "only the least developed and worst written narratives make sense", which made for a frustrating and ultimately unsatisfying viewing experience.

[ry0chann]

Prompt 1 from angst and 7 from fluff for connie

#1 — "It would be better if you stayed away from me."

#7 — “How mad would you be if I kissed you?”

WARNINGS: gn!reader, angst to fluff (sort of but not really), slightly suggestive, fwb realtionship, Connie is kind of an ass and ooc

WORD COUNT: 0.7k

NOTES: basically Connie screwed you over by leading you on but it doesn’t matter bc you like him. that's the plot lmao

send me prompts!! | m.list

You knew you shouldn't have told him how you felt, yet you did anyway. Why? Did you think he'd reciprocate your feelings? What a silly assumption to make, knowing this entire arrangement was his idea in the first place. He made it very clear what his intentions were, it'd be a waste of time to try and find more out of the relationship.

It was your fault for catching feelings. You said you wouldn't, and you did. You couldn't help it — he acted like he loved you, treated you like you were his everything. And now, he stands before you with the biggest shit-eating grin, chuckling at the fact that you told him you liked him.

"That's a joke right?" he asks, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

Your face heats up in embarrassment, your eyes falling from his.

"It's not..." you murmur, "Just thought I'd tell you, but I'm realizing I shouldn't have..."

He's quiet for a moment, processing your confession. Whether or not he actually felt something other than sexual attraction towards you was unclear — maybe he did, maybe he didn't. He had been experimenting with the idea a little, getting more intimate by kissing you and what not. Though maybe all of that gave you the wrong impression. Here you were telling him you stupidly caught feelings, all because he treated you the way he would his partner.

"Guess it'd be better if you stayed away from me then." He suddenly blurts, monotonically.

You're taken aback, confused as to why he'd suggest something like that. You didn't want that, even if it would hurt you more to stay with him in whatever you'd call this complicated relationship.

"What would that even accomplish?" you question.

He shrugs, not even confident in his words. He simply suggested it, that didn't mean he meant it.

"Dunno, but don't think I'm gonna stop calling you just because you got a crush on me."

The way he was looking at you somehow suggested he was unbothered by all this. You thought he'd care a little more, would at least talk things out or enlighten you on how he felt. But he didn't. He didn't care, didn't feel the same — wouldn't feel the same.

His eyes scan your form, ignoring the way your face contorts into something of a frown. Connie was only here today because you had "plans," then you decided to kill the vibe by pouring your heart out. He didn't seem turned off though, still staring at you like he wanted to rip your clothes off.

"Connie..." you sigh, "Maybe you're right. About uh, about us staying away from each other."

He pouts but it's not genuine. "Awe don't be like that. We'll figure it out, alright?"

You didn't believe him. Chances are, he didn't want to figure things out. You assume he'd want to continue the way things are and hope that your growing feelings magically disappear. If things continued the way they are, it'd only result in the opposite of what he wanted. Your feelings would only get stronger and that'd only complicate things more.

Connie takes hold of your hands, entwining his fingers with yours. He leans in a little, smirking like the little shit he is.

"How mad would you be if I kissed you?" he asks in a soft whisper.

Now really wasn't the time, you weren't in the mood. Still, feeling his hands in yours, being so close to him, having his lips inches from yours — he was tempting, extremely fucking tempting, and you were mentally kicking yourself for even considering giving in.

"I'd be pissed." you mumble, in a tone that suggested your words weren't entirely truthful.

He hums, impulsively kissing you anyway. You don't stop him though, in fact, you indulge. Your eyes flutter shut and you tilt your head to kiss him properly. His hands are quick to move to your waist, pulling you closer.

You had a feeling the conversation you started earlier wouldn't lead anywhere, this heated kiss only proving you right. It didn't help that you let your desires overpower any logical decision you could've made, not that any of that mattered anymore. He was intoxicating, it was impossible to deny him.

Going any further would end up being a mistake, you knew that. It wouldn't do your complicated feelings any favors, nor would it convince him to bother understanding you. But for now, you'd enjoy it. You'd let him handle you however he wanted, just like he always did, because in all honesty, you liked it.

[cyndavilachase]

I’m Looking Forward Now 💖Thank you and good bye

So, it’s been a little over a week since Steven Universe Future ended… 

I’ve been hesitant to write this, honestly, but I’m tired of holding myself back from properly expressing myself in fear of appearing overly invested in the media I consume, even in private. Writing helps me organize my thoughts and feelings, and I feel like these thoughts in particular may resonate with many, so I want to share them. I want to talk about what Steven Universe has done for me personally, both as an artist, and as a person.

I’ve been around since the day the first episode of the original series aired. I actually remember when Steven Universe was just a logo on Wikipedia’s “List of Upcoming Cartoon Network Shows” list, back when I was a freshman in high school. It piqued my interest, but when commercials finally dropped for it, I thought it was going to be bad because of the way marketing handled introducing Steven as a likeable character. There was still something about it that made me want to give it a chance though, so I went online and watched the pilot before the first episode's release. I was hooked immediately. I knew I was going to love it, and I did. I fell so absolutely in love with Steven as a character, and the world that he and the gems lived in. I became obsessed. I was always so excited for new episodes to come out. Little did I know what else it would do for me as I went through my adolescence alongside it.

As the show progressed, it was evident that what I wanted out of a western animated childrens’ cartoon was finally coming into fruition: this show was becoming serialized. There was continuity, there was plot, there was character development-- it was getting deep. It was pushing the groundwork that Adventure Time laid out even further (thank you, Adventure Time).  

I will give credit where credit is due: earlier western childrens’ cartoons I grew up with like Hey Arnold, and Rugrats, among others, also touched on heavy topics, but Steven Universe was able to take similar ideas (and even more complex ones, concerning mental health and relationships) and expand on them outside of contained episodes and/or short arcs. These themes, which were a part of the show’s overarching story, spanned across its entirety. Continuity was rampant. 

What did this mean? It meant kids cartoons didn’t have to be silly and fun all the time and characters weren’t just actors playing a part in 11-minute skits. Steven and the gems would remember things that happened to them, and it affected them and how they would function and play a part in their story. This was a huge deal to me as a teenager. I always wanted the cartoons I grew up with featuring kid characters to feel more. In my own work, I often felt discouraged when combining a fun, cutesy western art style with themes as dark or layered as anime would cover. I always thought it had to be one or the other because an audience wouldn’t take a combination of the two seriously enough, based on discussions I had with classmates, friends, and online analysis I read at the time. Steven Universe proved to me otherwise. This show was opening the door for future cartoons exploring in-depth, adult concepts. I felt so seen as a kid, and was inspired to stick with what I love doing.

I was actually very worried about the show’s survival. It was in fact immensely underrated and the fandom was miniscule. Then in 2014, JailBreak dropped, and it’s popularity exploded. Part of it was because of the complex plot and the themes it was covering like I mentioned, but also because of its representation. 

I remember when fandom theorized that Garnet was a fusion due to grand, tragic reasons. Turns out, she’s simply a metaphor for a very loving w|w relationship. This was huge. I cannot stress how important it is that we continue to normalize healthy canon queer relationships in childens’ media, and Steven Universe finally was the first to do that proper. Introducing these themes offers the chance for a kid to sit there and ask themselves, “Why is this demonized by so many people?” I asked myself exactly that. Ruby and Sapphire were my cartoon LGBT rep. They were the first LGBT couple I ever ecstatically drew fanart of. I was dealing with a lot of internalized homophobia at the time, and they showed me that I was allowed to love women and feel normal about it. The process of overcoming this was a long one, but they played a part in my very first steps into becoming comfortable with my sexuality. I could go on and on about it’s representation in general-- how it breaks the mold when it comes to showcasing a diverse set of characters in design, in casting, and in breaking gender roles. It’s focus on love and empathy. Steven himself is a big boy, but he's the protagonist, and the show never once makes fun of his weight, or any other bigger characters for that matter. It wasn’t hard to see why the fandom had grown so large.

Fandom was always a joy for me. It was a hobby I picked up when I was in middle school, like many of us here did. I would always cater my experience to fun, and fun only. I only started getting more deeply involved in SU’s fandom when I had just turned into an adult. During the summer of 2016, between my first and second year of college, I drew for the show almost every day non-stop when the Summer of Steven event was going on and posted them online. This was a form of practice for me in order to become not just more comfortable with experimenting with my art, but also to meet new artists, make new friends, and learn to interact with strangers without fear. I dealt with a ton of anxiety when I was in high school. When I was a senior applying to art school for animation, I decided I was going to overcome that anxiety. I made plans to take baby steps to improve myself over the course of my 4 years of college. Joining the fandom, while unforeseen, was definitely a part of that process. I started feeling more confident in sharing my ideas, even if they were fan-made. I fell in love with storyboarding after that summer, when I took my first storyboarding class, and genuinely felt like I was actually getting somewhere with all of this. I remember finally coming to a point in my classes where I could pitch and not feel hopelessly insecure about it. I was opening up more to my friends and peers. 

But this process, unfortunately, came to a screeching halt. 

My life completely, utterly crumbled under me in the Fall of 2017 due to a series of blows in my personal life that happened in the span of just a couple weeks. My mental health and sense of identity were completely destroyed. All of that confidence I had worked for-- completely ruined. I was alone. I nearly died. My stay at college was extended to 4 and half years, instead of the 4 I had intended. I lost my love for animation-- making it, and watching it. I could no longer watch Steven Universe with the same love I had for it beforehand. It’s a terrible thing, trying to give your attention to something you don’t love anymore, and wanting so desperately to love again. I dropped so many things I loved in my life, including the fandom.

Healing was a long and complicated road. I continued to watch the show all the way up until Change Your Mind aired in the beginning of 2019, and while I still felt empty, that was definitely a turning point for me with it’s encapsulation of self-love. I was hoping James Baxter would get to work on Steven Universe since he guest-animated on Adventure Time, and it was incredible seeing that wish actually come true. The movie came out and while I enjoyed it and thought highly of it, I was still having issues letting myself genuinely love things again, old and new. It was especially difficult because cartoons were my solace as a kid, when things got rough at home. I remember feeling sad because the show ended, and not getting the chance to love it again like I used to while it was still going.

By the time Steven Universe Future was announced, I was finally coming around. I was genuinely starting to feel excitement for art and animation again. I wasn’t expecting there to be a whole new epilogue series, but happily ever after, there we were! Prickly Pear aired, and the implications it left in terms of where the story was going did it. I was finally ready to let myself take the dive back into fandom in January of this year. My art blew up, something I wasn’t expecting considering my 2-year hiatus. Following this, I was invited into a discord server containing some of the biggest writers, artists, editors, and analysts in the fandom. I had no idea there were so many talented people in the fandom, some already with degrees, some getting their degrees-- creating stuff for it on the side just for fun. The amount of passion and productivity level here is insane, and so is the amount of discussion that has come out of it.

I didn’t realize it at first, but it was actually helping me gain back the courage to share ideas. I lost my confidence in pitching while I was taking the time to heal, and graduating meant there would no longer be a classroom setting I could practice in. This group helped immensely. 

I have made so many friends through this wonderful series, and I have so many fond memories talking to like-minded creatives, getting feedback and a myriad of sources for inspiration, as well as all of the memes and jokes and weekly theorizations that came about as we all waited on the edges of our seats for episodes to air. I needed this so badly, I needed to get back in touch with my roots, when I would go absolutely hog-wild over a cartoon I loved with people who loved it as much I did. Future has been a blessing for me in this way. I graduated feeling like I was back at square-one, but now I feel like I’m on my way again.

It’s 2020 and while I’m doing great right now, I am honestly still recovering from the total exhaustion that followed after graduating a few months ago, and finally leaving the campus where my life fell apart behind. Needless to say, watching Future was like looking into a mirror. Watching one of my favorite characters of all time-- one that grew up with me-- go through so many of the same things I went through not too long ago was absolutely insane to watch unfold. It’s such an important thing too, to show a character go through the process of breaking down over trauma and all the nasty things that come with it, and to have them go on the road to healing. Steven got that therapy. He wasn’t blamed. The gems were called out. The finale was everything I could have ever hoped for. The catharsis I experienced watching it was out of this world.

As I continue my own healing journey, I will always look up to the storyboard artists, revisionists, and designers that I have been following over these past 7 years, as well as the new ones introduced in Future. It's been such a joy watching these artists release their promo art for episodes, talk about their experiences working on the show, and post the work they've done for it alongside episodes airing.

Thank you Rebecca Sugar, the Crewniverse, and the fans, for making this such a truly wonderful and unique experience. Thank you for reminding me that I am, and always will be, an artist, a cartoonist, and a fan. Thank you, my followers, for the overwhelmingly positive response to my artwork. I have had so much fun interacting and discussing the show with you all again over these past few months. Steven Universe and it’s fandom will always have a special place in my heart, and it will always be a classic that I will return to for comfort and inspiration for decades to come. I am sad that the cartoon renaissance is over, but so many doors have been opened thanks to this show. I am so, so excited to see what this show will inspire in the future, and I hope one day I get the opportunity to be a part of that. 

Goodbye Steven, thank you for everything. I wish you healing, and I wish Rebecca and the team a well-deserved rest. ♥️

-Cynthia D.

[dream-to-be-frog]

hello just watched kate (2021) and. thoughts. spoilers ahead, of course.

things about kate (2021) that make me go ????:

mew is super pretty but. why is she a random white girl in japan.

moreover, why are she and her handler (henceforth known as haymitch because hunger games) both in japan !

it just. does not seem like the story needed to be in japan. it feels like they chose japan for vibez only. oh, there’s cool technology stuff and bright colors! that sure would look nice on screen! we can do some fun weird fetishizy implications about asians while we are at it hehe🤪

like 30 mins into the film @scrambld-egg was like “why’s it always the yazuka?” and like. YEAH. this could have happened in russia or be italian mafia or literally any kind of organized crime anywhere because of how absolutely little relevance it has to the plot.

why is kijima’s brother even a target? why him specifically? what did he do bestey

what does their “crime syndicate” even do? what kind of illegalities do they get into? did anyone even consider this

did anyone consider any of this plot, frankly. like i have to ask.

we all knew haymitch (varrick) was working against her after she suggested retiring and like. that kind of plot twist is fun and all but GOD would it kill y’all to make it more ... something ? dramatic, personal, thought-through ?

like. yeah he is selfish and cruel and obviously groomed her from a time she was vulnerable and a literal fucking child to be his little killer but WHY is he like this. we do not get any backstory for him, even a little.

similarly, what changed for renji that made him so willing to turn his back on family. we kind of see something in that he thinks he can do better than kijima and he got power hungry but for a group that supposedly cares about family he sure was willing to massacre his.

in fact, kijima even said something about how western poisonous mindsets overtook renji and made him turn his back on family and just. okay but for why

it’s just a Lot to kill a child, especially a niece or whatever she was to him. silly

we know kate was trained to be a killer since being literal Baby but like. i wanted to see more flashbacks that made her solidify her implicit trust in haymitch.

i am begging why the FUCK is she even in japan it does not seem like she travels much

for that matter, if she IS the kind of assassin who travels a lot (i miss villanelle at least she fucking made sense), they literally never mention it. they literally do not talk about her life experiences aside from freaky haymitch being a weirdo awful man.

to recap: did she travel for her murder work? if yes, why not say so. if no, why the FUCK is she in japan of all places.

how can you have a story in japan about a woman and make her white

and then have her massacre a bunch of asian men for no reason that we know. i didn’t even know to hate them i just felt bad and there is something unsettling (as an article i found articulated better than i could as i watched) about watching her mindlessly murder a bunch of poc.

like i get the reason why ani was obsessed with kate because she lost everyone and new mother figure saved her life but like

why does kate care so much? if it’s guilt, aside from her quitting because she can’t get over osaka, we don’t see any of her conflict.

i’m just. kind of bitter because the premise and the characters have SO MUCH POTENTIAL but the absolute lack of plot is devastating

and like. i can appreciate a good action movie with zero plot + blood and vibes only but the way that kate started made me genuinely be like oh wow! they sure have a lot to work with i hope they develop things!

things that kate (2021) could have done better to truly live up to all of it’s incredible potential; a list:

listen the actress is super pretty (she reminds me of renfri from the witcher and i would DIE for renfri) but like. she should have been half-japanese.

when ani tells kate “we’re the same” .... girl help that would he SO MUCH FUCKING BETTER if kate was half japanese.... kate would literally see herself in ani, a half-japanese girl who is forced to grow up too soon with too much violence around her.... the parallels between the lives they could lead and have lead would be so much cooler....

and it would goddamn explain why the FUCK she was in japan oh my god it is just so seems white savioury even though kate doesn’t play the hero and like

a flashback scene (NOT a flash of one) where she was younger and haymitch was coaching her and something goes wrong and you see that weird freaky deaky bond demonstrating her implicit trust in him.

how can you have ani LITERALLY SAY “i’m the last person you’ll ever get to know. are you sure you don’t want to know me? that’s sad, kate. that’s sad.” AND LITERALLY NEVER HAVE KATE LEARN MORE ABOUT HER

like they made kate fall asleep like IMMEDIATELY after, so everything she could have learned about ani was said to her when she was passed out. and it made the scene where ani takes selfies with her kinda weird because there is not that much emotional impact

similarly her death was anticlimactic? i like when action movies have anticlimactic deaths but those deaths usually have some emotional impact and. this was so hollow besties

it just is such a shame because the cinematography was BRILLIANT and again there was. SO MUCH POTENTIAL for a movie to MEAN something

there were a couple of metal lines too, but those seemed hollow as well. “i’m dying. i have to finish... i have to finish something.” could have been SO GOOD. “my life was never mine. until now.” (this one may not be verbatim i cannot remember exactly) could have been SO GOOD. the basic premise was all there... she was regaining control of her life hours before her death, the poetry is all there, just BEGGING to mean something. but it doesn’t, in the end. it doesn’t mean much at all.

some action movies are good for nothing but blood and i can respect that. but when a story is TRYING to have a point but misses in delivering... that’s when i get upset. i love mindless shit but if you want me to care, fucking make me care, kings!!!!

that is all.

anyway. thoughts?

[13atoms]

Deep Focus: Chapter 1 [Tom Hiddleston x Reader]

Summary: Tom’s a successful porn director with a romantic streak which proves very popular with his female audience. His resident porn actress and business partner has been with him through thick and thin, the two of them growing completely inseparable, even as her own career starts taking off.

But working in such close proximity is intense, and burgeoning feelings threaten to complicate their professional relationship.

Mature, smut, porn director!AU, ethical porn production discussion, porn-star-and-coworker!reader. Friends to lovers, slow-ish burn. [7.7k]

________________________________________________________

There was such a style to everything Tom wrote, everything he directed. A sincere passion that you suspected was always meant to be used elsewhere. You wondered if his craftsmanship was ever appreciated, on the other side of the screen, as strangers got hot and bothered watching each meticulously designed frame of his vision come to life.

Sure, it was porn. But Tom directed it like he could win an Oscar for ‘hot lifeguard pounded poolside’. This was his livelihood, his passion, and it was a damn shame he wasn’t award-season eligible.

The names would make you wince, as you saw them uploaded to the site, thumbnails and previews drawing in viewers by the million with their shots of heaving bodies and glistening sweat. Tom never called the videos such crass things. Not in his scripts. You would get copies titled ‘Romantic Night In’ or ‘Office Love Affair.’ He was a fan of sugar-coating what would be inside those innocuous white pages, a veneer of respectability which Tom insisted upon, regardless of how obvious the true nature of the videos was. But once the videos were sold, it was out of his hands. Your face contorted mid-faux-orgasm would be plastered across the site, and everyone involved would try and forget what happened.

Ignore the comments.

Keep moving.

You often wondered how Tom wound up in this place, with his sharply tailored suits and polished shoes, eloquent and educated, his words almost poetic as he directed mid-budget porn in hotel rooms and his studio day-in, day-out.

Then again, he never seemed particularly bothered by it. He gave each shoot his full attention, his full boundless enthusiasm and all the professionalism he could muster. You wondered how he balanced it, sometimes, the creative drive to press on with trying to be creative and shoehorn romance into films knowing that, ultimately, it was porn.

He had interviewed you like a real director might, talking about your life and experience and ambitions, almost apologetic when he had finally choked out ‘could you undress’, barely glancing at your naked form before he hired you as his first employee.

You asked him early on, while watching him try and assemble a fake restaurant-date set in the studio, complete with faux windows and an extra playing a waiter, why he bothered when three-minutes of good quality fucking footage would make him the same amount of money. He’d given you a strange smile, the wrinkles beginning to appear at the corners of his eyes, and shrugged.

“I make what I’d like to see.”

The words haunted you later, as your rather attractive co-star bent you over the white-cloth covered dining table and you allowed mewls and groans to escape your mouth without a second thought. Trying to avoid the muted blue of Tom’s eyes behind the cameraman.

Despite your reservations when you first started to work for him, Tom had won you over. His gentler, more romantic approach to pornography had a loyal following. Both of your pseudonyms garnered huge numbers of views across various platforms, and Tom was keen to cultivate a collection of female-friendly porn. Against all the odds, it was working.

And you loved working with him. He was a great director, and inspired writer, and a genuinely brilliant boss. He made sure you saw royalties, good pay, that everyone you worked with was screened and tested, always keeping you safe. Always.

Each time he called a wrap, passing you a robe and offering a meek congratulations on your performance, you found yourself more and more pleased you had wound up working with him.

“You really do have a talent,” he’d told you one day, distracting you as you discussed a new script in his office.

You were sat opposite him, Tom’s glasses perched on his head as he watched you read, your feet resting against the leg of his desk. You’d come in to your shared workspace to try some costumes out, to discuss new scenes, still recovering from a thoroughly exhausting shoot the day before. There were still light bruises around your wrists, and you caught Tom glancing at them worriedly each time your long-sleeved shirt slipped.

“I love that you’re such an actor,” he continued, hands tapping the desk as he spoke, “like, a real actor.”

Your eyes drifted across the script, scanning it with your bottom lip between your teeth. He always appreciated your input, wanting the ‘female fantasy’ in a lot of his work, and he’d timidly shown you some ‘student-professor’ script he’d been working on. He was like that, embarrassed in a way which you wouldn’t expect from a man with his considerable experience in adult entertainment. He was assertive, certain, even stern where it counted. But with just the two of you together, dancing around what was sexy and what wasn’t, he seemed desperate to avoid saying anything you might perceive as too ‘crude’.

“What do you mean?” you’d chuckled, still flicking through the first draft.

He only entrusted you with such early versions of his work – but that made sense. Your careers were symbiotic, tied to one another with an unspoken pact. He directed everything you were in, and you were in everything he directed.

It made sense.

“You don’t just… I don’t know. You never make my scripts seem silly. Or cheesy. You… you really try and make them feel real. I could write anything, and you’ll deliver the lines well. I was overseeing auditions earlier and... I just kept thinking none of them were you. I think you might be the best in the business.”

You rolled your eyes, offering him a disbelieving smirk, and he scoffed.

“I’m serious! I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The weight of his words settled heavy in your chest, and you turned back to the script, frowning as you flicked through the loose-leaf pages. Tom fidgeted behind his desk, unhappy with losing your attention, but you ignored him.

“Here. If you want the fantasy to be believable, I think he needs to lock the office door. Make a show of it, you know. Cover my mouth,” you comment dismissively. Tom already has as pen in his hand, making notes. “It could be hot, maybe ‘Don’t make a sound or you can’t cum’, something like that. As if there’s other students in the corridor outside.”

Nodding, Tom dutifully wrote down your words, mouth slightly open in realisation as he listened.

“Don’t make a sound…” Tom repeated, and you felt yourself blush.

“Not… not that exactly,” you backtracked, “you’re the real writer! I just think, there needs to be some build up. A remind of the power dynamic. Him going straight to oral is a bit… fast. That could happen in any old plot, you know?”

You felt his eyes on you, looking up from the paper to spot Tom leaning back in his chair, a distant smile on his face.

“You really are the best,” he praised, “that’s great. I’ll do rewrites tonight.”

For a moment, you let his words hang heavy in the air. Then you blinked back at him, a slight frown pinching your forehead at his strange mood. He was calm, for once. Tom was usually a ball of enthusiasm, and you wondered if your dismissal of his words earlier had done something to hamper his spirit.

“It’s always easier to critique,” you dismissed, “I love the script, it’s great. I really think it’ll be good. Hot. Maybe I can wear a Britneyschool girl costume, or something?”

He frowned a little, pinching the bridge of his nose at the thought.

“No, weird. We’re going for University student, just��� a nice pair of jeans or something.”

“Don’t they wear suits where you went, posh boy?” you teased, loving how it riled him up. “I’ll try and dress like a smart person.”

“You are smart, don’t give me that.”

You rolled your eyes, loving how you managed to fluster him, putting the script back on his cluttered desk as you reached for your bag. This was how your meetings always went, a few hours of notes, some teasing, and a hasty retreat once Tom told you the next shoot day you had to attend. You still had a few hours of social media to do for the last video you’d shot together, notes from Tom, and you lamented the sight of the sun setting outside of your shared office. You’d hoped for at least a bit of natural light today.

“I’m serious, you are!” Tom asserted, and you ignored him purposely as you shut down your laptop, preparing to take it home.

“Yeah, I know, whatever. Don’t work too late!”

“Rich coming from you,” he sighed, “it really doesn’t matter if we send that last edit late.”

“It matters to me! I’d quite like to get paid this week, you know?”

Tom sighed. The two of you tried to produce a couple of videos a week – one for Tom’s site and another to sell to a third party. It didn’t leave either of you with much free time, both of you left in the tiny office at all hours as you worked to keep up with demand.

“Very true. But I’d rather you got some sleep, you know I can help if you’re short on money,” he offered, shuffling papers on his own desk.

He was always quick to jump to an offer to help, and you tried to ignore the fondness spreading through your chest at his eagerness to look out for you. That gentle protectiveness which coursed through Tom was enough to make you melt.

He was one in a million, that was for sure.

“I’m fine, Tom. Thank you though, I’ll ask, if, y’know –”

“Do! Any time. Actually…”

Tom cut himself off, typing something into his phone, and your pocket buzzed with a notification.

“Get yourself a nice dinner.”

You checked your phone to see a transfer from Tom. It wasn’t a crazy amount, but too much for just dinner, and you huffed performatively as he grinned at you.

“No! Don’t be ridiculous –”

He barely made more than you, and you were certainly doing perfectly comfortably.

“Royalties are really good this month. That old break-up sex video is trending again, apparently.”

You smothered a smile. It was hate-fucking, as you’d told Tom a hundred times. That was the title. You could still remember the look on his face the day you’d filmed it, his twitchiness, the unknown male actor who had slightly scared both of you with his sheer size as he stepped into the studio. The male star had fucked you like you’d broken his heart, hands on your neck and hips bruising yours as he pounded into you, and you’d be a little alarmed at how little you had needed to act in his domineering presence. He’d been muscular and tall and assertive, almost injuring you with his enthusiasm, and the shoot had ended with you a sweaty mess, struggling to walk, eyes watery.

You had ached from the moment Tom helped you up from the bed, a protective body between you and your costar as you watched the man collect his clothes and his paycheck. The footage had been great, you’d watched Tom edit it, but it had been your first taste of Tom’s protectiveness. The actor had never returned, and Tom had bought a hot water bottle for the office, pressing it into your lap as he brought tea for the pair of you, loathing how you winced as you moved.

He’d taken you out for dinner that night to celebrate a good edit, but you knew the real reason. That neither of you wanted the other to be alone. It had been a lovely evening, a restaurant then a bar, without a break in laughing conversation the entire night. It hadn’t been a date, but if it had been a date, it would’ve been the nicest date you’d ever been on. In those moments, you wondered if Tom was really cut out for the industry. If you were.

As much as Tom hated the film, it was hot. It had propelled your studio into the spotlight, and it paid a significant chunk of your rent.

“Thank you,” you smiled to him, wracking your mind for anything else that needed discussing before you headed home.

Maybe you’d get takeaway. That would be nice.

Tom cleared his throat.

“What are we shooting tomorrow, by the way?”

You looked up at his words, frowning a little at the realisation you hadn’t been given a script yet. It was unlike him, to be so unprepared. Usually everything was organised weeks in advance. With a glance at the shadows under his eyes, you decided not to tease him about it.

“We’re shooting tomorrow?”

“This week… we’ve only got one video. I was just thinking something simple, I haven’t called a costar yet, but we don’t have to if you don’t want to –”

It was your paycheck on the line as much as Tom’s, and you wondered how the hell you’d forgotten.

“Do we have a camera crew?” you frowned.

“No, not yet. I can call though. Or I could just do it myself, if we’re not doing anything too complicated?”

You thought for a moment, leaning against the open doorframe as Tom started to pack up his own desk, nimble fingers tapping across his keyboard.

“Solo?” you suggested, stifling a laugh as Tom blinked and tilted his head to face you.

“I missed that, love?”

“Solo. Like ‘hot female solo’ or something?”

He smiled slightly, closing his laptop lid.

“That’ll do well, I’m sure. Do we need anything costume-wise? Props?”

Toys. He meant toys. You smiled at his refusal to call a spade a damn spade.

“I’m sure we can find everything here. It’ll be nice to do a simple shoot for a change,” you enthused, holding the door for Tom as he moved to turn off the lights, lingering nearby as he locked up the office.

“Yeah. Single-shot, no camera-man either.”

“Cheap,” you sighed, as though it was the sexiest thing in the world.

You did the books, and avoiding having any more costs this month sounded great.

“Yeah,” Tom smiled, falling into step beside you as the two of you left the warehouse studio.

He looked ready to say something else, but changed his mind. For a second the two you stood by the exit, words trapped beneath your closed lips as the early evening air enveloped you.

“Do you need a lift home?” Tom finally offered.

“No. No, I’m good. Thank you.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, yeah. Usual time. Twelve?”

“Perfect.”

He reached an arm out, ready for you to walk into his embrace, and you froze. The moment was over as soon as it started, his arm retracted, and you could only stare. His hand found the curls at the back of his head, scratching there, a blush dusting his cheeks in the harsh fluorescent lights of the car park. You could kick yourself as you watched the bob of his Adam’s apple, the clench of his jaw. He felt awkward. You contemplated hugging him, but the moment had passed. Instead you rocked on your heels for a second, before turning to leave.

“Bye, Tom!”

“‘Night! Look after yourself, don’t forget dinner. I’ll see you – ”

He cut himself off as you walked too far away, and you could have kicked yourself for the sadness in his final syllable. You sighed as your feet fell against the pavement, your whole walk home haunted by the awkward shuffle of Tom’s hands as he went to hug you goodbye.

*

You were surprised by how difficult it was to brush off that awkward memory. As you ordered and ate dinner, you were reminded of Tom with every bite, that he’d snuck aside part of the company’s petty cash budget to give you dinner. That both of you had gone home, separately, to separate empty houses and empty beds.

Had he wanted to go for drinks? Wanted company? You had come to accept a long time ago that the man was your closest friend. He would be the person you called in an emergency, a shoulder to cry on. You liked to think he’d lean on you the same way.

Despite that, you spent limited time together outside of a professional context. You never met up on weekends, or casually called. Of course you didn’t. He made a career out of seeing you naked, watching you fake orgasms for other men. As you readied yourself for the day, you reminded yourself that of course, he would be nice to his only full-time, very lucrative actress. To his business partner.

As you’d queued up the company’s social media posts the night before, you could only think of Tom behind the camera, orchestrating each photo and clip you uploaded.

You couldn’t help the grin which split your face as you walked into the studio, bag flung over your shoulder, overpacked with everything you thought you could possibly need. Tom greeted you, emerging from his office with a smile.

Before you could overthink it, you walked into his arms, giving him very little choice in the matter as you greeted him with a hug. In his surprise you felt his body stiffen, his arms slowly wrapping around you, and you were momentarily gobsmacked by the muscular form he seemed to hide behind those suits.

He was a little more dressed down today, smart black jeans and a button-up white shirt, unruly hair sticking up like it did when he forgot to brush it. He looked better than yesterday, like he’d had a good night’s sleep.

“Good morning,” he chuckled, bemusement clear in his voice.

You pulled back from the hug, a little embarrassed at the affection until you saw the smile stretching across his face, reaching his eyes. Suddenly the previous night, worrying you had inadvertently rejected him, seemed to be erased.

“Morning! What have you got for me?”

The studio space was cleaned, but empty. The camera stood in the corner as Tom lead you further into the room, his office door open to the side of it, and you frowned at the emptiness of the space.

There were tape marks on the floor where sets were usually assembled, conspicuous without the usual hive of activity buzzing around some piece of furniture you would be thrown onto or fucked against. There was nothing.

“I didn’t know what you wanted to do,” Tom was saying, his gentle voice booming in the empty space, “we don’t have a script or anything so… I’ll leave it to you.”

You bit your lip.

It was more freedom than you were used to, less direction, less to build the fantasy where you could forget you were ultimately in a warehouse with just your business partner. It was… nothing. Tom said your name quietly, and you nodded, stepping back to assess the space.

“I’m just thinking,” you reassured him.

Had the studio always been this quiet? You tried to remember a shoot day where it had been this silent, this calm, without the stress of lighting people or cameramen or scripts being thrown around. You could hear every step Tom took as he walked towards the camera, the wheel-mounted tripod creaking as he moved it across the floor, checking batteries and SD cards while you stood in place, your bag still hanging from one shoulder.

Noticing your frozen stance Tom frowned across at you, nothing but gentle concern in his blue eyes and the fine lines around them.

“I was thinking something kind of minimal, maybe cosy?” he offered, “Maybe an armchair? Something like that?”

You thought about it for a moment, crossing to the corner of the room to finally set down your bag.

He was finally getting into ‘director mode’, growing more energetic by the second.

“I’m thinking we just frame it on you, no distraction. Single take, if we can.”

You nodded silently as he crossed to the storage cupboard he’s overeagerly labelled a ‘props department’. It was stacked high with fabric and furniture and lingerie, tubs of various exotic sex toys near the door. Tom stepped straight past them.

There was a mattress in the props room, materials to build a bed, and you pondered on the idea for a moment.

“We could keep it really simple, maybe?” you suggested, “Find a warm background. Or just use white. Try and get one twenty minute shot, or something.”

You reached for lube without thought, collecting the near-empty bottle of body oil beside it too, as you perused the options in front of you.

“Remind me to buy more of that,” Tom mused, sparing a glance to the bottles in your arms before standing beside you to peruse the options.

You nodded silently, your free hand rifling through bagged silicone toys, slightly in a daze as you picked out a few options. There was a slight blush dusted across Tom’s high cheekbones as he turned to see your arms full of dildos. You smiled as it took him a second to find words, and wondered how the hell he’d chosen to start a porn studio in the first place.

“Colour co-ordinated,” he commented, and you smiled, picking out yet another pink toy from the pile.

“Naturally,” you smiled, “I think that’s everything? Could we drag a mattress and pillows out?”

He nodded silently, already moving to manoeuvre the double mattress leaning against a wall in the props room. You rolled your eyes before helping, knowing he was being a gentleman, or whatever he called it. You called it putting his back out.

He rejected your help, so you grabbed as many pillows as you could, following him back into the main studio, privately smiling at the dramatic grunts he made trying to move the mattress. He tossed it to the ground with a grunt, shoving it into the corner of the room, before pausing again.

You dropped everything down on to it, toys, lube, pillows and all.

And then both of you waited.

It was so strangely intimate, just the two of you in the room, the strange nature of your relationship weighing heavy after last night’s miscommunication. Suddenly there was nothing you wanted to do less than take your clothes off.

“White sheets?”

“Hm?” you hadn’t processed what Tom said, too wrapped up in your own world, frowning down at the bare mattress.

“I was thinking white sheets.”

“Oh, uh, yeah.”

He was off, assigned another task, and you almost envied his distraction as you slowly sorted the pillows how you wanted, gathered the toys absentmindedly. Before Tom came back from the props closet you made yourself scarce, catching sight of his slim outline through the doorway. Facing away from you as he rummaged.

In the single bathroom of the studio you cleaned anything that would be going inside of you, avoiding your reflection, trying to shake off the odd nervousness coursing through your veins.

Why? It had been years since you felt this way before a shoot. Before you’d met Tom, even. Sure, shoots could be exciting, exhilarating, intimidating, but this self-consciousness, this self-doubt… it had come from nowhere.

You pressed your forehead to the mirror, closing your eyes, breathing deeply. The tap running sounded like a waterfall, the silicone under your fingers felt alien, the air almost claustrophobic as you wondered what the hell was wrong with you.

Tom was done making the bed when you got back, frowning at his phone until he heard you re-enter the studio space, quick to look up and see if you were happy with his set. You felt hyper-aware of him, of every movement he made, a clean towel and toys cradled in one arm as you took in the space. It was a simple premise, just a clean fitted sheet pillows in a corner, a clear space for you in the middle. You knew it would look good on screen. You knew this was an easy job.

You felt sick to your stomach.

“Do you want to face the camera? Or kind of, not acknowledge it?” Tom asked, speaking again as you forgot to reply, too caught up in your own mind. “Maybe if you ignore it that’s more… voyeuristic?”

“Sounds good,” you responded, kneeling to prepare your space. This was autopilot, your day job. You could do this.

“Right.”

He sounded a little put out by your response, but moved the camera anyway, switching to a knee-height tripod. You stood, stepped back to give him space, and frowning at the sudden headrush. You blinked, catching yourself staring at the flex of his arms as he moved the heavy equipment. You didn’t realise how long you had been staring into space until Tom called your name a second time, crossing into your personal space.

“Are you okay?”

Tom’s voice was so soft you wanted to cry, fingers hovering beside your bicep, his gentle eyes demanding for you to meet them, daring for you to lie while his face is so close to yours.

Somehow, the guilt of his worry made you feel worse.

“No, I’m…I’m being stupid. Sorry, just tired.”

“Did you not sleep well?”

“No, I, uh, I slept fine. I’m not sure. Just not really feeling it.”

His face fell, but you knew he wasn’t disappointed in you. He thought he’d done something wrong. Immediately you were talking, doing anything you could to soften his guilt.

“It’s my job, though. I can do it. This is great Tom, I think it’ll be a good shoot.”

“Sweetheart –”

You sighed, eyes falling to the mattress, before forcing a smile.

“Let’s get this over with!”

He looked like he wanted to argue with you, but you forced yourself to move, pulled your feet from the floor with far more effort than it ought to take. There was some comfort in rummaging through your own bag, that piece of home, something private from the studio. You found the vibrator you’d brought, a pink bullet you used almost exclusively at home, fully charged that morning. Behind you, Tom snorted in amusement.

“Nothing here is ever charged,” you shrugged off his stare, knowing damn well you didn’t have to explain yourself.

You wanted to explain anyway though. Just in case, Tom thought anything he did wasn’t enough. He seemed perfectly fine with the criticism, though you knew he was making a mental note. He always did, then you had something to say.

Trying not to make a big deal out of it, you stripped to your underwear, folding your clothes neatly and being careful not to show any self-consciousness in your posture. You’d never been ashamed or embarrassed before now, and you weren’t about to start. Even if it was just you, and a very well, fully dressed Tom. Vibrator clutched in your fingers, you finally sat on the damn mattress.

He was the other side of the camera now, somehow both distant and a few feet away. You found yourself staring at your body in the monitor, just watching. Tom’s voice broke you out of yet another daze, and you wanted to pinch yourself. Why couldn’t you do it today?

“We don’t have to do this today, if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s okay I just… I forget it’s just us sometimes, you know? There’s such a production and so many people and at the end of the day…”

Tom smiled, a relief on his face that told you he had been feeling it too. That this was weird.

“I know what you mean. If you’re uncomfortable…”

“Just give me a second to warm up, we need to make something, after all.”

You stretched, not really sure why, moving a little around the nook Tom had created, shuffling pillows and practicing where you wanted to lie back, watching a monitor as Tom played with a soft lighting, twisting and turning to find the most flattering angles you could.

As he shuffled things around, Tom nodded to the spread of toys you’d set out. You’d added your vibrator to the pink line up, perfectly organised on the white towel.

“Do you want those in shot?”

You shrugged.

“Might be hot?”

He nodded silently. You moved the toys in to the frame, trying to blink away the cloud which had settled in your mind. The world felt foggy, your arms like they were moving through treacle, and you knew Tom had noticed.

As he prepared two directional microphones, you tried not to feel claustrophobic. The audio from the microphone he was pointing towards your pussy would be almost grotesque, and you fought not to shuffle further from it as you imagined Tom listening later, headphones in, as he balanced the levels between your moans and the wet sounds of you fucking yourself.

Fuck.

Why was this so different to a regular shoot?

You’d done solo shoots before. With Tom. And half-a-dozen other crew, you reminded yourself.

You caught sight of his curls above the monitor, face serious as he set everything up.

“Speak?”

“Testing, testing,” you spouted off nonsense until he offered you a thumbs up, happy with the audio.

Then there was nothing else to do.

He stood, looming over the equipment. And you looming over you.

“What’s the plan?” he asked, smiling at your frown. “You’re in charge here, I’m just the camera guy.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing he was trying to put you at ease.

“You’re the director,” you reminded him, knowing how he preened himself under the title.

You were impressed that his eyes had only roamed down your body once as he took in the shoot, glancing at the indulgent layout of toys, double checking the monitor, one headphone in. He had that stance he always adopted when he was directing, and you knew it was his favourite moment in any of this. The moment everything was pinned on him.

It happened so quickly you almost missed the moment he knelt down, blinking in surprise as his face remerged at your level beside the camera.

“Then my direction is: enjoy yourself. Forget I’m here. Let’s show them something real.”

He must have seen your shock, because it made him smile.

“Real?” you questioned, and he nodded firmly.

“I’m serious.”

For a beat, both of you were silent, his eyes meeting yours over the body of the camera.

“If you can,” he offered, “I understand it’s not always…”

You interrupted him with a hand, smiling your understanding of what he was saying, and dismissing it in one motion. The silence dragged on, and you decided to push this forwards. If you were done by lunch, Tom would probably insist on taking you somewhere nice.

“I don’t know if I should use – ” you ghosted a finger across the biggest toy, worrying a bottom lip between your teeth, “Simplicity might be key.”

“Do what you want, darling. What feels good.”

You nodded mutely, and for just a second you saw doubt flicker across his face. This was new territory, and even you weren’t sure if this was a step too far.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah. If I’m… actually… it might take a while. Let me know if I’m taking too long.”

“Take as long as you need, darling. I’ve got nowhere to be.”

Tilting your head at him a little, you realised abruptly just how intimate this was. Moreover, that you wanted it anyway. That you were about to make him watch you cum. Make him hear you, smell you. He couldn’t touch, but he could watch.

And that was enough for you to perform.

Tom gave you a countdown, red lights peppered your field of view, and he was recording. He had taken a seat on the floor behind the camera set up, one headphone in to monitor audio, waiting.

You stayed sat up, back arched a little as your hands began to caress you own body, keeping on eye on the monitor while your face was out of the shot. You rubbed along your thighs, across your stomach, teasing at the lace of your bra and the elastic of your underwear each time you passed them, trailing your fingertips. It didn’t really feel like anything, doing this to yourself, but you knew to tease the camera. Tom would cut out anything too slow.

Your gaze remained firmly on the screen as you began to make your touches firmer, more deliberate, dragging lines into your skin and flirting with the camera. You admired the soft skin of your breasts as you started to shift your bra, enjoying the stiffening of your nipples in the monitor until –

The screen went black, and you immediately glanced at Tom, frowning as you lost the visual of yourself. He met your questioning gaze sternly, eyebrows furrowed, and you remembered his direction.

“Enjoy yourself.”

With nothing left to look at you closed your eyes, feeling the blood rushing to the surface of your skin, the sensitivity of your breasts as your fingers idly danced across them. You shoved your bra down unthinkingly, wanting to feel more, rubbing at the heaviness of your breasts and wincing as you enjoyed the pleasure and pain of pinching at your nipples, teasing them to attention. You glanced your nails across them, feeling it in your core. You didn’t want to wait anymore. Fuck the cameras.

It was hard to let to, to stop the delicious feeling of your fingers on your own breasts, but you forced yourself to free one hand, shoving off the bra, desperate to feel yourself without it. You knew you were grimacing, it wouldn’t be sexy, but you didn’t care. That was Tom’s problem.

You needed to touch yourself.

One hand reached below the waistband of your underwear, seeking out your clit, guided by a familiar ache. It was all you could focus on, your other hand forgotten, cupping your breast, the sensation vague and lost as your fingers found your clit. The sensation overwhelmed you as you shifted the hood, your body beginning to produce wetness. The room was a little cold, the air relieving against the heat of your bare skin, making your nipples peak as you leant back into the nest of pillows behind you.

You felt your stomach tense, a bolt of electricity tensing the muscles up and down your body as you brushed across your clit a little too hard. Your middle finger probed your pussy experimentally, slipping inside of you, quickly joined by a second as you played with the wetness there.

One, two, three pumps of your fingers inside you was enough for you to gasp, your eyes still closed against the bright lights as focused on nothing but feeling. No more fucking around.

You reached for your vibrator, hand knocking against the thick silicone toy lined up beside it, writhing as you pressed it against the fabric covering your clit. You cycled through the settings as fast as you could, still desperate for more stimulation.

More. It was on the highest setting. You wanted more.

Without moving the vibrator you shoved your underwear off, huffing as you kicked them away, not caring where they landed. The tip of the toy nudged against your clit exquisitely, and you froze.

There.

There.

You thought about Tom watching you. The hot blood coursing through your body, the line up of toys just waiting to be shoved inside of you. The sensitivity of you clit as you held it against that perfect point. The air against your dripping, aching pussy. The muscles starting to clench, the rhythm of your body. Building, building, you didn’t fight the feeling.

This was what you wanted.

That warm familiarity of the vibrator on your clit, the runaway train of your thoughts, it was enough to drive you over the edge. You hadn’t realised the keening, groaning noises you were making until you heard them, pleasure leaving your lips as an afterthought.

You felt empty.

Blindly you reached out, sticky fingers finding the shaft of a toy you wanted, a smaller one you could take right now. A dollop of lube in the palm of your hand was all it would take, a few pumps of the toy enough to coat it, the excess lubricant smeared on the sheets. You didn’t care. Not your problem.

Without conscious thought, you were still rubbing yourself, two fingers absently making circles against your clit as you fidgeted to be able to take the dildo. You didn’t bother preparing yourself anymore. You were wet enough, and you wanted the stretch.

Needed it.

Needed to feel full.

You shoved the toy into yourself, gritted teeth and your spare hand grasping at your breast, giving the nipple a sharp pinch to interrupt the overwhelming feeling of that silicone pushing inside of you. Your walls were stretched open, a gasp reaching your ears as you felt a nudge against your cervix.

It wasn’t enough. You felt wild, desperate, as you sloppily pulled the toy from yourself and shoved it back in, clenching down and still needing more.

Your fingers found a larger toy, arousal and lubricant smearing across your body as you discarded the dildo which you had just been fucking yourself with, leaving it somewhere on the mattress, forgotten in favour of the bigger option. It was thick. Maybe, in your right mind, you wouldn’t have considered it. But instead you coated it in lube, squirting the clear liquid on to the tip and rubbing it down the toy, focusing on nothing but the need pulsing through your pelvis.

On the emptiness inside you, begging, pleading to be filled. It hurt, how much you wanted to be stretched out, to feel something pounding into you. You felt animalistic, desperate for anything. The last of your conscious thought was occupied by the need in your clit, the demand for friction, and you just didn’t have enough hands. It was impossible to think. When you finally sank down on the fake cock, leaning back, legs apart, gaze focused on nothing but your own swollen pussy, it was a relief. You gasped, then sighed, pushing another inch of the toy inside you. You felt stretched already, split in half, but you kept going. With each thrust, you took the silicone further inside of you until you felt the dull ache of the toy going too far.

Finally, that emptiness felt sated, and you stayed still, too stuffed to risk moving and too blissed out to care.

But you needed more.

Each bear down made the toy threaten to shift, and you didn’t have the brain power to thrust and pay attention to your aching clit. You moved gingerly, grabbing a pillow to straddle, holding the toy inside you as you hunted for your vibrator.

You couldn’t even lean too far to reach it, you were so full it ached. And it was delicious.

With the smooth plastic finally in your hand you leant back, ready to bring yourself to another orgasm. With a blink, you realised there was a tear tracking its way down your cheek, and you smiled to yourself.

And then you accidentally looked forwards. Your eyes met Tom’s. The camera. The lights. The switched off monitor.

You wanted to cry.

He was watching you directly, with those sharp blue eyes, one finger resting along his jawline, his usual calculating, wide stance replaced with one knee hugged to his chest as he sat on the concrete floor. He was watching you.

You. Stuffed full, straddling a pillow on the bed Tom had fucking made, covered in a mix of lube and your own arousal. That strange feeling from earlier came back full force.

God. He had seen you actually come. Without acting or cheesy lines or clever angles to hide the worst of your O-face. You could pretend to come, tell your male co-stars what a good time you’d had, follow direction, anything. But this was too real. And it was just you and Tom. In the corner of a huge studio, bright lights and cameras and –

Had he called cut? You wouldn’t have heard. Did he realise you’d lost control? That you had forgotten you were supposed to be acting and been so desperate and –

“You’re doing amazing.”

You smiled at him weakly, gasping as the toy inside you nudged your cervix as you fidgeted. You didn’t realise that you were awaiting direction until he spoke.

“Another one?”

His voice was a little throatier than usual, though you supposed he’d been quiet for a while. His eyes kept drifting from your face, and you wondered if he felt as uncomfortable as you did.

You nodded silently, closing your eyes, listening to the increasing pitch of the vibrator as you turned it up to its maximum setting.

The minutes stretched on as your orgasm built, little raises and falls of your hips accompanying that insistent buzz of your favourite vibrator, the toy inside you starting to ache as it stretched you apart. It was impossible to forget that Tom was watching you now. That his piercing gaze was on you. As a matter of professionalism, you tried to avoid looking up. You ignored the camera, fucked your body in the way you knew it would respond to, only half-faking it as you came a second time.

You moaned and groaned and gave the camera an indulgent few seconds of overstimulation, the vibrator pushed against your clit to make you writhe and shake. You pulled yourself off the dildo in a mess of arousal, played with yourself, showing off how stretched out you were.

Fingers swirling in the arousal inside of you, you sighed in relief when Tom called, “cut.”

Dropping the toy, you pulled your legs together, ignoring him for a second as you took deep breaths. Taking stock of your body, the residual pleasure and pain and stickiness. A lot of stickiness.

Tom took pity on you, shifting a softbox so you had a clear path out of the corner you were hemmed into.

“Go and have a shower,” he told you, the most softly-spoken command you’d ever heard.

Nonetheless, you followed orders. On weak legs, you indulged in as long as shower as you dared, cleaning up and then just… waiting. Trying to avoid the real world. When you finally opened the door, wrapped in a robe, you found your clothes folded outside. Tom was nowhere to be seen, but you thanked the universe for him anyway.

When you re-emerged you were fully dressed and feeling a lot more like yourself again. And, actually, quite proud of yourself. Tom’s busyness told you everything had been recorded properly, equipment moved and the mattress bare, leant against the wall.

“All good?” you asked, more to announce your presence than anything. He stopped moving, offering you a gentle smile.

“Perfect! I think it’ll be great. Do you want to go get lunch somewhere? To celebrate?”

Predictable as anything. The thought made your heart swell with fondness for him, his head tilt and excitement, his strange place here.

“I think I’ll just go home,” you tried to smile apologetically, but you could still feel the ache inside you, the dull oversensitivity of your clit against your underwear.

The embarrassment and excitement fighting in the fit of your stomach.

Tom nodded, clear understanding on his face. He held the door for you on the way out.

“Are you coming in tomorrow?” he asked, quietly, like you might run off if he asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you then.”

*

Your bedroom fell silent as the vibrator stopped, the battery finally flat. You whined in disappointment, desperate for another orgasm. Your fingers replaced it instantly, rubbing, desperately pulling more wetness from the arousal weeping from you, but you were too oversensitive.

Panting, vision blurry, your thighs aching, you blinked away tears. You glanced at the nightstand. Tom hadn’t text you.

*

When you woke up the next morning your phone was dead. You’d forgotten to charge it last night, and leaving it in your room to charge offered a strangely peaceful morning. You had a few hours before you would be expected at the studio, and no work to do before then.

You indulged in spending time getting ready for the day, making a decent breakfast, doing a few chores you’d been putting off.

Processing what had happened yesterday.

In the clear light of day, you wondered if you ought to be embarrassed for the way you’d completely lost yourself at the shoot. The more you thought about it, the more you thought about it, the more you rationalised at you’d just followed Tom’s direction. Done what he’d asked. It had been intense, for sure, but you’d done what he’d asked. If anything you regretted the moment he’d had to speak, losing your nerve. You hoped he didn’t want pick-up shots today, you weren’t sure your body could take any more.

You thought about the night before, clearing up the scattered clothes and charging the vibrator you’d left strewn beside your bed, more ashamed of the images which had been conjured by your overactive imagination in the late-night privacy of your bedroom. You hated that everything you imagined was involved blue eyes. Distinctive curls. Pulling buttons from smart shirts and kissing along sharp cheekbones. Poor Tom. He didn’t need you overstepping that mark. And yet when you had closed your eyes, imagined you were under those lights again, all you could imagine was Tom. His creative gaze. Listening to the smoothness his voice leant to everything he said as he instructed you even more intimately than usual.

As you switched your phone back on, you forced the thoughts from your mind. They couldn’t follow you to the studio. The two of you had built something good. Something successful. The studio was doing well, you were both saving money away for the future, building your brands. You couldn’t screw that up now by imagining him like that. He trusted you. You trusted each other. Relied on one another.

You wondered if he ever fucked other actresses.

[xlostinobsessionsx]

An Unforgettable New Year’s Eve | Charlie Gillespie - 1/3

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x fem! Reader

Warning: none

Word Count: 2,213

Plot: (Y/N) doesn’t want to go to the new years eve party where her ex would be with his new girlfriend. Sadly, she promised her best friend she’d go. But instead of letting her wallow in self pity, Charlie makes it his mission to give her a new years eve she will never forget, which makes her ask herself one question: Can you fall in love in just one night?

A/N: A big thanks goes to @bass-ic-deaky and @a-tomb-with-a-view for proof-reading this part. I don’t know what I would do without you!

I wish you all the best for the next year! May 2021 be better than this year.

Masterlist

Normally (Y/N) loved the holidays. She loved dressing up for Halloween and going to parties with her friends. She loved seeing her family on Thanksgiving, eating turkey and telling them what made her feel thankful. She loved decorating the Christmas tree and singing christmas carols. She loved celebrating the beginning of each new year...well, normally she did. This New Year’s Eve was going to be quite different. Her friend Colin was throwing a party in his big loft like he did every year, and normally that would be alright. (Y/N) loved traditions, and celebrating New Years Eve at Colin's place felt like a tradition by now. A tradition she had always attended with Noah. But this year she would go by herself. Of course (best friend's name Maya, her best friend, would come with her but it wasn’t the same. Once they got the party Maya would probably disappear into the celebrating crowd, leaving (Y/N) to fend for herself. In any case, her friends decided that it would be better for (Y/N) not to drink during this New Years Eve Party. “It just ends messy when you drink and already feel miserable.” Maya tried to explain to her. (Y/N) would’ve preferred to just stay at home all by herself in all honesty but her best friend was against her plans.“The company will do you good.” Maya argued until (Y/N) had agreed to go with her. 

“Someone will also have to make sure that you get home safely.” (Y/N) shrugged, trying to persuade herself that going to the party might be a good idea. She would just go to keep an eye on Maya all night long. That alone would be enough for a distraction.

However, it turned out that was easier said than done. Her friend immediately grabbed herself a drink and joined the crowd on the packed dance floor. (Y/N), on the other hand, got herself some water. Her gaze drifted through the crowd from each drunk partygoer to the next. She spotted Colin who was standing in front of one of the big big paintings, which decorated his loft. He seemed to be chatting animatedly about it to a couple standing next to him, who, even from across the room, were obviously sloshed from how they swayed from side to side, and it was only 7:23pm. A laugh cut through the music, pounding from the large DJ speakers. It didn’t ever matter how loud a room could be, she’d always hear that laugh no matter what. That’s when her gaze landed on him, wearing one of those silly New Year’s Eve party hats. The shirt he was wearing, that had been a gift from her for their last anniversary. He had broken it off with her a few weeks later, right before Thanksgiving, leaving his seat empty during family dinner. 

(Y/N) could still remember their conversation. It seemed like it was forever embedded in her mind. “I can’t do this anymore!” He had said while packing his belongings he had left at her place. 

“Why?” She sobbed, trying to get a hold of him, trying to get him to look at her, but he had shrugged her off. 

“It just won’t work between us. Not for the long run at least, we’re too different.” He had said nonchalantly. 

“But...how? Why?!” She whimpered “A few weeks ago you talked about us moving in together for god’s sake!” She had grabbed him by his arm forcing him to turn around to look at her. The look on his face had changed. 

He looked sorry for her. Why was he taking pity on her? “I met someone else.”

And this particular ‘someone else’ was standing next to him, with Noah’s strong arm wrapped around her waist pulling her close. Her golden wavy hair fell elegantly over her shoulders as she stood there with her stupid perfect makeup and stupid perfect dress. The tears began to form in (Y/N) eyes again. Not here, she told herself and took a deep breath, trying desperately to steady herself. (Y/N) had promised to herself that they would not ruin this party for her, she had promised Maya she’d have fun and that would try to do that now. Like trying to keep an eye on Maya, that turned out to be easier said than done. That’s why (Y/N) found herself in a corner of the room, sitting on a bench and staring at her cup with a blank expression on her face.

“Either you just really hate New Years Eve parties or someone’s here you don’t like that much.” (Y/N) turned her head to look at the brunette guy who had sat down next to her a few minutes prior. She hadn’t paid him any mind, she went about her business and he with his. Like most of the guests, he was wearing funny glasses and a party hat. His curly brunette hair hung to his shoulders and his hazel eyes sparkled happily at her. She was grateful to him for trying to save her evening, but her desire for company was waning by the second. 

(Y/N) sighed looking back down at her lap. “It’s alright, don’t worry about it.” She tried to shrug him off to wallow in her self-pity once again. 

“Doesn’t look like it’s alright. Maybe you need a drink?” He suggested. 

She slowly shook her head “I can’t. I promised my friend I’d bring her home safely.” (Y/N) pointed to her best friend, who at the moment tried to drink as much as she could out of a beer funnel. 

Charlie chuckled at the sight. “Well she’s a messy drunk, isn’t she.” 

“Also...I’ve heard you only should drink when you’re in a good mood.” She mumbled, not knowing if the guy next to her was even able to hear her over the loud music. 

“And you aren’t in a good mood because…?” He treaded carefully. 

(Y/N) sighed as she looked up to the guy next to her. His eyes were gazing at her, a friendly look glinting in them, not intrusive like she had expected it would’ve been. More honest and seemingly genuinely interested in making her feel better. “I don’t wanna pull you down with me.” She answered truthfully. 

The guy chuckled “You won’t, I promise. It’s gonna be my mission to pull your mood up no matter what.” 

This made her smile. “I’m sure you’d have a better night if you spent it with someone else.” 

“Well, I know most people here but I like to make new friends. It’s like this saying: Always start a new year with new friends.” He smiled brightly. 

(Y/N) chuckled “I’m pretty sure it’s not a saying.” 

He laughed slightly “Well it might not be one but it made you smile. So one step closer to making this a better night for you….uh…” He looked at her expectantly. 

“(Y/N).” She replied with a wide smile. 

“One step closer to make this night better for you, (Y/N), way better.” He said as he held his hand towards (Y/N) for her to shake. 

“I’m Charlie, by the way.” He introduced himself. She took his hand and slightly shook it. His hand nearly entirely engulfed hers and felt warm around hers. “Now that we’re on a first name basis, you should really tell me who put you in such a foul mood.” He took a sip from his cup and looked at her curiously. 

(Y/N) sighed. Her gaze fell to a tall guy standing in a group of people. “You see him?” She pointed slightly at the guy. “That’s my ex. We were both invited to this party when we were still a couple.” she explained “But then he broke up with me for the blonde girl standing next to him. Obviously, for whatever reason I still thought it would be an excellent idea to come here because we’re in the same circle of friends. I didn’t think for a second he would bring her.” She spat with a bitter look on her face. 

“And now instead of partying you’re just sitting here all sad?” Charlie asked. 

(Y/N) nodded “As I said, I promised my friend I’d bring her home safely and I wouldn’t be able to if I were drunk. Also I promised before I knew how the night would turn out for me. Believe me whenI say I really regret this choice.”

Charlie frowned. Suddenly an idea came to mind. “What if I told you I have a plan for how this night could turn out good for you?” 

(Y/N) snorted. “How?” 

“Let’s get out of here. I know some really good places. They’re incredible on New Year’s Eve!” He suggested, smiling and his eyes shining brightly. 

“I can’t. I promised Maya...” She started but Charlie interrupted her.

“...That you get her home safely. I know, I know. We’ll be back by midnight. That could be at least 4-5 hours full of adventures!” He emptied his cup with one big sip and stood up. “Come on!” he rose from his spot holding his hand out towards her.

She eyed him suspiciously. “For all I know you could pull me into an alley once we leave this building, stab me and run away while I bleed to death” 

The guy next to her chuckled. “Nah, don’t worry about that. I only do that on the first tuesday of the month. Come on, it’ll be fun!” He looked at her with his best puppy dog eyes, which behind the glasses made him look ridiculous. 

(Y/N) playfully rolled her eyes “Fine! But we have to be back by midnight.” She took his hand and stood up. They wove their way through the crowd before (Y/N) pulled on his arm. “Wait, I should tell my friend that I’m coming back.” She made her way towards her friend, who was rocking her soul out to ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ on the dance floor. (Y/N) slightly touched her shoulder to get her attention 

“(Y/N)!” Her friend screamed her name. “There you are! Let’s party!” 

(Y/N) chuckled “I’m going to leave for a few hours but I promise I’ll be back before midnight.” 

Maya’s eyes went wide when her gaze landed on the guy behind her best friend. “Oh, oh I get it. Of course. Don’t worry about me.” She pushed (Y/N) towards Charlie “Just you know...stay safe, if you know what I mean.” She winked at both of them. 

(Y/N) felt her cheeks heating up. She chuckled slightly and nodded “Alright fine, and you my dear don’t drink too much!”

“You know I’m really bad at keeping promises.” Maya winked at her. 

(Y/N) laughed and nodded as she turned to Charlie. “Shall we?” She asked him. 

Charlie took her hand again and gave it a light squeeze. “Yeah, let’s go!” The cold December air hit them like a bus as soon as they made their way outside. (Y/N) expected them to go to the subway station but instead Charlie pulled her towards a red motorcycle. “Have you ever been on a motorcycle?” He asked her as he fetched a second helmet out from under the seat holding it out for her. 

Hesitantly, she took the helmet from him as she shook her head “No, and you might’ve also had a little too much to drink to still be able to drive.” 

Charlie laughed “Well, honestly I was looking out for one of my friends too, so I wasn’t drinking either.” (Y/N) looked at him suspiciously as he put on the other helmet. He held his hands up in defense. “I swear, you can even smell my breath if-” 

“That won’t be necessary!” (Y/N) exclaimed, which made the guy in front of her chuckle. She eyed the helmet before she put it on. “Is this how it goes on?” She asked him with a brow raised in confusion. 

“Wait, let me help you.” Charlie took a step towards her. Slowly, he pulled her hair away, which had fallen into her sight. “Can’t have your helmet falling off.” 

Her eyes drifted up to meet his, which sparkled brightly in the moonlight. She felt her hands getting a little bit sweaty. It must’ve been because of the thought of riding a motorcycle for the first time and not because of this cute guy in front of her, she tried to tell herself. Her thoughts were interrupted by his soft voice, “Now it’s good.” He smiled at her. “All secure and ready for an adventure. Shall we?” He asked and made an invitational gesture towards his bike.

(Y/N) took a deep breath and nodded. Charlie climbed onto the bike putting up the kick stand before nodding at her to get on behind her. “Hold onto my waist. Tightly. I promise I’ll drive carefully.”

She nodded and nervously put his arms around his torso. She could feel the heat radiating from his body in front of her, it was quite soothing actually. She pressed into him a bit more….for safety, she told herself. Charlie started the engine. “Ready?” 

“As I’ll ever be.” 

He chuckled softly. “Excellent, hold on tight now.” Slowly, the wheels underneath them started to move and brought them away from the party. From stupid ex-boyfriends. From a dull new years eve party. “We’re going on an adventure.”