#apparently tumblr mobile displays

[underwhelmingalchemist]

So apparently the version of the "Isn't It Bromantic" interview that gets passed around isn't the full thing

So after seeing a tumblr post I can't find, about two and half hours of intensive internet digging, and one purchase from a sketchy second-hand site later (full story under the cut, I promise it's interesting, but also long), I got the physical magazine and scanned it

So here you go: the full "Isn't It Bromantic?" TV guide interview with Robert Sean Leonard and Hugh Laurie

Feel free to repost wherever you want- I want people to be able to find the full thing

SO, as for how I found it:

I saw this tumblr post forever ago that I can't find anymore because tumblr is just Like That with a cropped screenshot of an interview with Hugh Laurie and Robert Sean Leonard. In the interview, they're asked about the "bromance" between their two characters. Leonard makes an annoyed comment about how "everyone [is] obsessed with homosexuality", followed by the interview apologizing and Laurie immediately jumping in with, "No, no, let's talk about it. Wilson and House have an unusual relationship so you have to explore…" and the screenshot cuts off there. Cue funny comment from the OP about the interaction, roll credits.

Except, as these things tend to do, it ended up becoming a bit of a brain worm, and I wanted to find it again. But I couldn't find the tumblr post. I looked absolutely everywhere, and in the process of looking everywhere, I found what I thought was the original interview- a blog post with the full quote from the actor. I didn't think too much about it, I figured it was just a short quote given to a popular blog in 2008. There's a magazine cover above it, but I don't think too much about it, because I'm focusing on the quotes in the article instead of the rest of it.

So I send screenshots to a couple friends to make jokes, and it probably should have died there.

However, late at night I end up thinking about that interview again, because of course I did. I start to think about how it's weirdly formatted for, what I assumed at first reading, was just an entertainment news blog reaching out for comment and getting a response. So I pull up the screenshots of the article (because weirdly enough, the old-ass blog only loads on mobile) and look at it again.

This is when I realize that this isn't an original piece from a blog interviewing these two after reaching out for comment. This is a blog post quoting and commenting on a full interview from a magazine, which I had originally thought had just been the inspiration for the piece.

So naturally, I go looking for the magazine.

Luckily, the name of the magazine is displayed on the cover, and so is the title of its main piece. This should be easy to find, right?

Wrong.

This is an interview in a physical magazine. From 2008. October 13th, 2008, to be exact.

I know this exact date because searching the article title and magazine name leads me to an archive on the TV Guide website.

Of covers.

And nothing but covers.

I spend like forty-five minutes searching everywhere I can think of on the web. Internet Archive, the TV Guide website, any search result that comes up when I search any combination of the words "House" "Interview" "Bromantic" "Bromance" "TV Guide" "Archive" etc. Over and over, all that's coming up are that original blog post and the cover from the official gallery.

The only things I could find online were:

The cover and date of the issue on the TV Guide website

The original blog post that was screenshotted in the original tumblr post

Another blog post that had a much shorter version of the quote, references something Leonard says from later in the article, and makes a comment on the nature of his reaction to the term "bromance"

An entry on Leonard's IMDB page's "interview" list mentioning it in title only

And:

5. A single listing for the issue on what seemed to be a second-hand site that looked like it hadn't had its UI updated since the mid 2000's, with a listing with no date or additional information besides what issue it is.

This is the only listing anywhere. I checked every other second-hand site I could think of, and then some that only came up through google searches. There's not a single listing for that issue on any of them. There were plenty of listings of TV guide magazines, including one that seemed promising because it included issues from that year, but it was missing all of October.

It seemed like the only listing for this issue on the entire internet was this one copy on this one obscure website. For all I know, this was listed in 2008 and abandoned, and just never got marked inactive. It could also be a complete scam.

A few quick google searches show that that website seemed to be legit, albeit a bit loose on quality control (which makes sense, this website seemed like the kind of thing you'd have to use the Way Back Machine to access). It also had an option to pay via PayPal, which meant I could file a chargeback if need be.

It was $11.50 when you include shipping.

So at about half past midnight, I bought the listing.

Naturally, about an hour later, I manage to actually find a scan of the interview. I had to follow a link in the comments of a post on FanPop, taking me to an old wordpress blog, and I'm sitting in front of the damn interview at last.

But something doesn't make sense. Why would their cover story only be two pages of text that aren't even full pages, and why would it cut off so strangely? There was no concluding sentence or paragraph, even though it started with a fairly long lead-in. It also led right up to the edge of the page, which felt like there should be more to it. There were more images in the interview than text, and the fact that there are so many of them and they clearly did a whole photoshoot indicated that they had them on hand for a while. The silly string one, for instance, I imagine probably had to require a couple takes, which means cleaning off Wilson's hair and face, adjusting makeup, etc. for it. Meanwhile, the conversation itself seems like it could have taken ten minutes total. I could have been totally wrong and that was where the article ended, but I couldn't shake the feeling that there might be more.

So I hold tight. A couple days pass with no update, and then the PayPal purchase gets updated with a tracking number. Promising, but it could still be a scam. Whether or not I get the actual magazine becomes a source of anxiety for the next week.

Until today, when I get told it was delivered. And when I opened the envelope it was sent in: there it was.

When I tell you I was happy stimming in my bedroom just holding the damn issue in my own hands... And then opening it and finding out that I was right, there was a missing page... I was elated. I still am, just typing this.

So I spent half an hour getting my scanner to work, and I give you the above issues.

Like I said above, feel free to repost however and wherever you want. I want all this to mean something.

In the meantime, I have two more House-themed TV Guide magazines coming to try and get articles from.

[pricegouge]

Fatted Rabbit Part Four on AO3

Contents

Bearshifter!Price x reader | explicit

John's eyes shift around the small distillery office, as if he somehow missed Simon lurking behind the door (he may have. Silent as the grave, that one) before he gives into the urge to tap the number at the top of his screen, letting his touch linger as he adds the contact. Even this - even just this - makes his tongue feel heavy in his mouth, his palms big and clumsy. He wants to lick his phone, is pissed when he can't smell her. It feels like snuffling for mushrooms and finding only arid dust and dirt. It is so much more than he had even just an hour ago, but it is not enough.

Note: a lot of this chapter is texting which I struggled to format on Tumblr's goddawful limited HTML. I've opted to display them as chats, but because Reader chapters are second person, I didn't want John's texts to appear as if they are coming from 'you.' So apparently he has himself saved on his phone as 'Price.' Bear with me. Do definitely recommend reading on AO3, it just looks a little better. okay anyway, hope you enjoy!

Unknown Number

Unknown number: Good morning. Thanks for last night, I had a lot of fun!

Unknown number: Also, wanted to ask, as a seasonal local and therefore, I assume, an expert in local fauna, would you say this bear is insanely big or is that normal?

John smirks at the attached photo of himself, docile and friendly as he stares blankly back at the camera; big stupid animal eyes deceptively sweet. It had been hard to behave in that form, but it had been a cold night and he'd wanted to be sure she wasn't frozen stiff in her pathetic little den. He was coming to hate that thing, simultaneously teasing him with its threateningly mobile nature and infuriatingly abysmal quality. He wanted to bring her back to his own den, bury her in thick, warm blankets. Maybe tie her to the posts so he could sleep easy knowing she wasn't going to slip away the moment he closed his eyes. But he couldn't (yet), so he stalks her in his animal form and tells himself it's for her own good and he's satisfied with that.

But now.

Now.

John's eyes shift around the small distillery office, as if he somehow missed Simon lurking behind the door (he may have. Silent as the grave, that one) before he gives into the urge to tap the number at the top of his screen, letting his touch linger as he adds the contact. Even this - even just this - makes his tongue feel heavy in his mouth, his palms big and clumsy. He wants to lick his phone, is pissed when he can't smell her. It feels like snuffling for mushrooms and finding only arid dust and dirt. It is so much more than he had even just an hour ago, but it is not enough.

Bunny: Also is it normal that it just chilled in the parking lot all morning, or should I maybe be worried it's rabid?

Price: Never seen a grizzly that close before so I'm not sure, but I think that's a big one! That's awesome.

Probably not rabid. Some of them have gotten a little too comfortable with humans. Good thing you were in your car, though!

And then, because he's greedy:

Price: Hiking this morning?

Bunny: Well, not anymore 😂

John is antsy, whole body restless. He wants to shift into his other form, or maybe pull a tooth out of his head. He's not hard, but the urge to stroke his cock is there regardless, an ingrained stress relief that won't help him here, he knows. Not without her, at least.

Bunny: What are you up to today?

He wants to spend all day deciding if he likes her better as a fleshlight or a chew toy. Unfortunately…

Price: Interviews all morning and then meeting with a potential vendor later. Boring shite.

Price: You?

Bunny: Probably just reading or something. Boring shit.

He imagines her cozied up in her cute little den: soft, worn quilts and a soft, warm girl. He wants to crawl in with her, change the chemical makeup of the very air until she has to breath him in, too; let her deal with the torture of his scent same as he's done for her. His fingers are heavy on his screen again. He hopes she's kept his coaster. He hopes he's tainting her phone. He hopes the aggression with which he's digging his big greedy claws into her life is enough to make her stay.

Price: Sounds lovely.

Price: Trade you?

Bunny: Haha! Sure, I can definitely handle vendor meetings. No problem.

Price: Cute thing like you, I'm sure you'd be a natural.

Bunny: Well if that's all it takes, I'm sure you'll do great 😉

John can't help the happy chuff that escapes him. It's not an entirely human sound but he doesn't particularly care if Simon is lurking right this moment.

Price: Thanks, honey.

Price: What are you doing tomorrow?

Bunny: Hmm. Don't know. You tell me?

Price: Let's square up, yeah? Get you that coffee.

Price: There's a place over on Nucleus that's pretty good.

Bunny: Sounds great! What time?

Price: Early okay? I'll have to be back to work by 1400

Bunny: Sure. 10?

Price: See you then, bunny.

He finds Simon in the brewery. John held off investing in the equipment for years, refusing to tank the 141 just because Americans thought IPAs were good beers. Blessedly, the last year or so had shown people coming to their senses, ordering porters, lagers, and shandies more often than not. Simon had been elated (or rather, quite stoic but the mask had raised about a half inch on his face which meant the cheeks underneath were slightly dimpled) and had been obsessively perfecting a house ale ever since.

"Need you to take the lunch shift tomorrow." John would feel bad for the last minute schedule change if it were anyone else, but Simon doesn't really have a life outside of work or the gym, so he can deal.

As predicted, Simon just nods in acceptance. "Coffee?"

"Affirm. Also want you to sit in on the barkeep interview."

That gets a rise. "Why?"

"Distracted," John shrugs.

Simon's sigh is a full body thing. "This better not become a normal thing."

"I'll keep it in mind. Thirteen hundred, corner booth reservation." John may take some small pleasure in the other man's grunt of acknowledgement.

***

John hires the first three interviewees on the spot. One's a wait staff vet who he's confident can handle her own on the floor. The other two are young but seem competent and need to start their careers somewhere. Between them and his returning staff, he feels confident in the floor team but with Gaz back in uni, he needs a new barkeep which could make or break their season. They'll get tourists either way, but John prides himself on being one of the few seasonal shops that attracts a fair amount of locals which he knows he owes to Gaz's amiable and experienced presence. Without him, John's anxious to pick a suitable replacement, especially if he'll be busy wooing a mate all season.

He's prescreened a fair few, but only scheduled two interviews. He's hoping he'll be able to call the other lady tonight to tell her no need. It's a dick move but he's busy. Besides, she's very professional and he's confident she'll get another position soon - she's just a little too serious for his place.

Simon comes in through the kitchen and slides into the booth ahead of schedule. John is still waiting by the entry to let the man in when he shows up. The two men nod in greeting.

"Wot's the bloke's name, then?" Simon asks after a few moments.

"John MacTavish. Said to call him Soap."

"That's stupid." A pause while Simon's fingers thud against his phone screen. "'e a Scott?"

John isn't sure how Simon can always find people's social media, given he doesn't have any of his own. "Problem?"

"Not so long as he speaks the King's. How'd you manage to find another Brit anyway?"

"At this point I think they're finding me."

As if on queue, John spots the man in question ambling down the sidewalk. He's larger than John had expected, not quite as tall as John himself but decently muscled. Sharp blue eyes and a confident, charming grin. And a fucking mohawk of all things. His first instinct, oddly, is to keep this man away from his bunny, but close on its heels is the urge to make Simon deal with this smarmy bastard every day and he can't quite fight the grin creeping onto his face as he unlocks the door for the man.

Thankfully, Soap seems to take it for a welcoming smile, which he returns brightly as he extends a hand in greeting. "Price, I assume? Good to meet ye."

"Likewise, always nice to put a face to a name." John locks the door behind them again and ushers Soap to the big booth with a practiced, 'Please, step into my office.'

Simon, predictably, does not rise to greet the interviewee, instead choosing to stare Soap down balefully without so much as a nod of acknowledgement.

"Soap, my head brewer, Simon. Simon, this is John MacTavish."

To John's surprise - and, apparently, more so to Simon's surprise (which is a whole new surprise in itself because Simon is never caught off guard) - Soap slides into the opposite booth and extends his hand to Simon in one smooth move, face the very image of 'I see what you're doing here but I'm not entertaining it so play nice.'

Simon continues to stare for a beat longer, two, before accepting Soap's hand in a singular, gruff, suitably manly shake. When they separate, Soap is grinning like an idiot as he informs Simon about his preferred nickname.

"Not calling you that."

Soap shrugs, completely unaffected. "Well, 'bout to get real confusin' in here, then," he smiles at John.

"No worries, he calls me captain."

"Only when you've earned it." Despite the words, the insult is clear enough that even Soap smirks conspiratorially, eager to be let in on the joke.

John allows some more banter. It's useful in that it draws both the other men out of their respective shells. Simon becomes ever so slightly more professional, while Soap becomes quite a bit less. It's good, though, to see him relaxed in this space. This is the side that John had wanted to see, considering this is the side the customers would be dealing with. It's a good fit, and he's already feeling confident in his choice when they move onto drink choices. He knows he's got his man when Simon nods exactly once at an answer regarding crawfish of all things.

There's more handshakes, promises to be in touch. John locks up behind Soap and turns to find Simon staring after the man. "Well?"

Simon shrugs. "'e'll do."

John nods, eyes his right hand man critically. He knows Simon well enough to spot the difference between natural and affected stoicism. "We planning on selling crawfish this year?"

Simon shrugs again. An obvious tell; the man doesn't make inefficient movements more than twice an hour. "Wanted to stump him." John waits for him to elaborate, a venture he would lose any other day but… "'e's solid."

Well. He'd hoped the Scott would rile Simon's temper, but this might be better.

"Settled, then. I'll have him start next week."

Whether or not this pleases Simon, he doesn't say, simply turns and walks back out through the kitchen. Sighing, John checks the time and is glad to find he's running right on schedule, but upset there are no text notifications. It's probably unreasonable considering she only just gave him her number this morning, but good mates check in on each other and the lack of questions about his interviews leaves him a bit bereft. Still, he follows her lead and pockets his phone without sending any prompts of his own. It's difficult to keep his human suit on whenever she's involved, but he doesn't want to scare her away so he'll behave, even if it makes him want to eat a whole beehive, stingers and all.

***

The trip out to Whitefish is easy enough. John drives the company van to look more professional, but the smell bothers him and he's slightly agitated the whole meeting. The woman doesn't seem to mind. He's fairly certain she's flirting. It would probably be in his best interest to return fire a bit, but the thought makes his stomach roll and his teeth clench. In the end it doesn't really matter. They set up a small supply and she asks if he'd be interested in them featuring one of the blends in a house special. Bourbon ginger with orange. Very basic but the blend she chooses for it isn't right and it's a struggle not to bite her head off over it. He gives his input and she accepts which appeases him, but as he's leaving she winks and asks if he'd like to stay and give the drink a taste test. The rumbling noise he makes at that is a growl, technically, but he plays it off like a groan. Which isn't much better, probably, but at least it's human.

"No thanks. Gotta make it back for the dinner rush."

"Your place, then?" She's smirking, proud of herself. She smells like cleaning supplies.

It's out before he can think about it, "Sure, if you'd like to meet the missus."

The vendor splutters, surreptitiously inspects his hand. "I - I'm so sorry, I didn't realize -."

"Unofficial," Price quickly recovers. "Still committed." Christ, they haven't even been on a date yet, he needs to get his bloody act together.

"Well. She's a very lucky woman," the vendor simpers and John tries not to snort as he collects his things. Yeah, lucky rabbit, caught in his jowls while he assesses exactly how hard he can squeeze without losing her.

Attempting a warm smile, John thanks her for her time and hurries out the door. In the van, he checks his phone and scowls when his rabbit still hasn't initiated a conversation. He can't help it this time, shoots her something about the meeting with the vendor going well but he'd still rather have traded places. He doesn't take it personally when she doesn't respond right away, and then very much does take it personally when she still hasn't responded by the time he returns to the bar. He's surprised to find it open, Simon scowling at him from behind the counter. "You're late," the man accuses and John just smirks at him.

"And you still opened on time?" Simon doesn't react. Unfortunately, the alone time seems to have done him good. Still, John tries a little harder because he's antsy and wants a rise out of someone. "Angling for a good review?"

Not even so much as a 'well someone has to care about this place.' Damn.

"You staying on in the kitchen or heading out?"

"Seen enough of this place," Simon grumbles and slips out the back.

John spends a long boring shift talking with a pair of locals about fishing. He doesn't really go fishing in this form, but he knows his fair share about where to find what fish. It's the quiet sort of night he would have savored even just a few weeks ago, but every hour that goes by without a response from his rabbit has him growing more and more restless. He's not worried about her deciding to hike even with that bear around, of course, but there are plenty of other fates that could have befallen her. Poor rabbit, alone in the woods. Even her den was a dangerous thing, prone to crashes and gas poisoning depending on how she kept it heated. Or worse, if she kept it heated. He swears to all that's holy if he ends up losing her to hypothermia even though he's big and furry and feverish and right bloody here, he's going to lose it.

It's late when she finally deigns to respond. Like, 2300 late. He can't decide if he's more relieved or annoyed so he chooses to be excited instead.

Bunny

Price: For the record, I did win over the vendor.

Price: Still wish I could've been doing boring shite like reading all day.

Bunny: I never doubted you

Bunny: Howd the interview go?

Price: Good. Got some new waitstaff. Happy with the bartender.

Price: How'd not-hiking go?

Bunny: Boring as predicted. Put a good dent in this blanket though!

She sends a photo of a beautiful crocheted blanket, the rows zigzagging in a strange psychedelic pattern which is toned down by the easy earthy tones she's chosen.

Good mate, staying warm. Now all she needs is someone to snuggle up with.

Price: You made that?

Price: That's brilliant.

Bunny: Thank you! 😁

Bunny: I'm about to go cuddle up under it though so goodnight! Glad everything went well today

Bunny: I'll see you tomorrow

Price: Sleep well honey.

Next>>

[uchiha-gaeshi]

heyy i saw your so many queued posts and was wondering can you explain it please? or maybe do you have posts that kinda explaining that? i'm kinda new here on tumblr and I already searched it on google still I'm confused. thanks in advance btw!

Tumblr's Queue

I think there might be a post somewhere on this site explaining the queue, but I haven't been able to locate it yet.

Basically, the "queue" is where your scheduled posts go. How do you schedule a post? When you're about to post or reblog, to the right of the "Post" button you'll see a dropdown menu. Once you click on the dropdown icon, you will see options for adding the post to the queue, scheduling the post for a specific time and date, saving the post in your drafts, etc.

Both scheduled posts and queued posts end up in your blog's "queue" (and keep in mind that if you have multiple blogs, each blog has its own queue, drafts etc.), but queued post are posted automatically based on your queue settings (which I will get to soon). Scheduled posts are posted at the time you specified (e.g. 30 July 2026 at 17:00).

Beware though, because if you're anything like me, you'll start putting *all* your posts into the queue until one day you realize that you can no longer queue a post or schedule it to be posted at a certain time, but you can post/reblog it as usual. Why? It's most likely because you have exceeded 1 000 posts in the queue, and apparently that's too much for Tumblr.

Where to find the queue (On Desktop)

From the dashboard landing page, click on the "Account" option on the left hand sidebar.

From there, click on the blog of your choice (some people might have more, some people might have just one blog).

You will see the "Queue" option on the right-hand sidebar (again, make sure that this is for the right blog. Don't make the mistake of putting your horny posting on your sfw blog. I learned this...... from a friend.)

And now, you can view all of your queued/scheduled posts here. From the top of the page (highlighted in red below), you can control when and how often the queue publishes posts (for queued posts only, scheduled posts are published on a specific date). You can also shuffle queued posts (randomizes the order posts appear), or pause your queue.

Within the queue, you can manually change the order of queue postings by 1) sending posts to the top of the queue by clicking the upward arrow icon (circled in red)

2) or by clicking and holding the four dots icon (idk what to call it) and dragging the post to the position you want it to be in. On mobile, there is a similar process for sending posts to the top of the queue, and changing the order of posts is a bit easier since there is another icon that moves the post up/down one step.

One note of caution: if you don't have infinite scroll toggled on (this controls how posts are displayed both on your dashboard and in your drafts/queue), you can only move posts to the top of the specific page you are on. If you want post #326 to become post #1, you must turn on infinite scroll to do so. This applies both for mobile and desktop.

When to use the queue

The thing with Tumblr is that there aren't really any rules with how you manage your blog. Whether you have a tag for every post, or whether you post/reblog 100 times a day or just once a month, or whether to have one blog where you just dump everything or 50 blogs for every fleeting hyperfixation, it's all up to you. When it comes to using the queue, from what I've seen, some users have it on when they're stepping away from the site for a bit just to have something on their blog. This can be as frequently as 40 times a day, or as infrequently as once a day. Many people, even if they don't use the queue as much, do schedule posts for certain days. For example, if I see fanart for Izuna's birthday (which is 10 February btw) in like August, I can schedule that post for 10 February 05:00 in my timezone (or if most of your mutuals are in Europe, CET I guess). On mobile at least, the limit is 31 December 2038.

I started using the queue after seeing a Tumblr post somewhere (I can't locate it because I was on lurker mode at the time) that said that you should use it to not "overwhelm people's dashboards." Now, I've figured out that if you spend a lot of time on here, it's either overwhelming people's dashboards or overwhelming your own damn queue (and drafts when the queue is too pussy to take a mere 1 000 posts). Do what feels right for you and your overly sensitive queue and draft space (this is me dissing Tumblr as a site, not the users), and that might change over time as you get a feel for this site and maybe some of the norms in the spaces you find yourself in. And maybe you find different things work for different blogs. Some poeple have general stuff posted frequently on one blog (usually the "main" or "personal" blog), while they have a few posts scattered here and there for like their art blog.

I hope this post has helped you (and anyone else scratching their head at this) better understand how the queue works. If you have more specific questions, feel free to ask, and I'll try my best to answer :)

[sonicenvy]

So I was poking around through my followers list and I noticed that there are a few of you who have no title, no profile picture, no custom site and no bio who do have enough likes to make me think you might be a real person and not a bot. If you are indeed a real person, please read this post.

If I click on you and your blog looks like this:

you look like a bot, yes even if you have a substantial amount of likes.

It is very easy to make yourself look human, and because I'm feeling helpful and chatty today, I'm going to show you how to do that, with screenshots. I even went on this site in safari where I don't have dashboardunfucker set up to take these screenshots, so you know I'm feeling good today.

Step 1:

In your sidebar go to "account" highlighted in blue below:

Step 2:

Select your blog in the drop down. (There are a bunch of blogs on mine because I have multiple junk side blogs.) For the purpose of this exercise I made a brand new blank one called imtotallyabot56789.

Step 3:

Go to "blog settings" in the right hand sidebar. This will take you to a new page.

Step 4:

On that new page, select "edit appearance".

Step 5:

Get to editing! I've highlighted for you the 4 most important things you need to change to not be a bot.

Those things are:

your icon

your header

your title & bio

you banner/bio colors

Some notes:

Your banner can be a .gif, a .png or a .jpg. It is best at a 16:9 ratio. I can't remember how big mine was, but a little bit bigger is better so that it displays decently on desktop and on mobile.

Your icon/profile picture should be a square. I think it displays at 128x128, but I don't know for sure. Use a bigger image than that though. Mine is apparently 886x886 at 72 ppi. Don't pick a photo of yourself unless there's something interesting about it (ie: you're in cosplay or something) because a regularass photo of a person looks like a bot as well. If you don't know what to pick, you can head over to picrew and use an icon generator there to create an icon. There are a lot of fun options. If you want to design your own and don't have photoshop or something like that, check out photopea which is an in browser photoshop clone. Have fun with this -- pick a character you like or a pretty image. Like whatever you want just don't stick with the default one. Use either a jpg or a png.

Your title doesn't have to be that deep. Or descriptive. A lot of people use lines from books, music, poetry, tv or movies for theirs. Mine is related to Elizabeth Warren ("Nevertheless She Persisted"). I've previously used "Death Cannot Stop True Love" and "This could be a little more sonic"

Your bio also doesn't have to be long or, like describe anything super detailed about you. The beauty of tumblr dot hell is that it is one of the more anonymous social media sites out on the internet. You could literally just put something like "Fandom Lurker". Just have something.

The banner/bio colors just change the color of the border around your header image/icon "background" and the accent color.

Step 6:

Some additional basic (optional) things to do:

Enable "Custom Theme". This gives you an actual website rather than the dumb little tumblr dot com/blog/yourblognamehere thing that you get by default. The advantages to having an actual yourblognamehere dot tumblr dot com website are numerous. I made a whole post about that with instructions on how to do that. (note that the screenshots in that post were made before the tumblr layout change that was tumblr staff copying twitter's homework). A big benefit to having your own site is that it is easier to find tagged posts on a site because the default search that tumblr has on the /blog/yourblognamehere thing is hot flaming garbage and pulls posts that don't have that tag whilst also missing ones that do. with a yourblognamehere dot tumblr dot com site you can simply go to yourblognamehere(dot)tumblr(dot)com/tagged/mycooltag and see all the tagged posts. Dooo this. you know you want to doooo this.

2. Open your ask box and turn off tumblr affiliate links. Asks can be fun. They can also be terrible. You can always turn them off later if you decide that people are being mean to you. Personally I have not had that problem in the 12 years I've been here. Maybe it's just the relative obscurity of this blog? who knows. glad for that though.

3. Add some featured tags.

This is a newer setting but I think it's fun. If you make posts (or reblog lots of posts) you can add a few tags that you use very often to this as little shortcuts for people visiting your blog.

Whew! That's all for today folks! Thanks for coming to my tumblr how to for newbies talk. I'll probably post another tumblr for newbies chat at some point.

with love and light,

💚 your local internet crazy lady slash tumblr oldtimer

Be kind to yourself and someone else today!

[lytefoot]

@staff What fresh hell is this?

Apparently this is some clever mobile mode, but it triggers because I have my display scaled up. If I set the zoom on the Tumblr main page to 90% it goes back to its previous semi-usable configuration.

Maybe make the responsive design actually query aspect ratio, rather than just using width as a shorthand? I'm on desktop (i.e. a landscape screen--a stupidly wide screen in fact) and should be getting the toolbar designed to take up horizontal real estate.

[masterjedilenawrites]

AHH Lena ive got a problem!! so i think my blog got hacked into???? but theres nothing diffrent/changed so im not sure but it i was looking at stuff and it says i was "active" at some place ive never been to? but the thing is that weekend i had traveled and somewhat close (like to the neighboring state but it was on the other side away from me) and im not sure if it could just be a glitch? but im still quite worried. i mean i just changed my password but it says it was active recently and i dont know what to do and i dont want to delete my blog (its super small anyways so it wouldnt matter tho)

Don’t panic friend! I’ve got some ideas for you based on some research I’ve done.

(Also apologies for any typos, i’m typing this out on mobile in a waiting room lol)

So, i hadn’t heard of this “active sessions” section of Tumblr before, but quickly found it on the web version under account settings. According to Tumblr’s FAQs, this shows any log ins/access sessions to your Tumblr account by browser, and includes location info, to help you keep your account secure.

Looking at mine, I recognized various devices I’ve used over the past several months, with the locations as my home town. Two logs stood out to me though. 1 - my current session (marked as “current” in green) says my location is in a different part of the state. Odd, but could be due to having a new phone? 2 - apparently a session back in April came from a completely different state. Very odd right?

If i’d come across this back in April, i probably would’ve freaked out like you anon. But the fact it happened 3 months ago (and i haven’t noticed any unusual activity on my account), i couldn’t help but wonder how accurate these locations are…

Hence a research rabbit hole about IP addresses. You’ll notice underneath the city/state display is a string of numbers. This is the IP address of the browser’s network connection. There are several free websites where you can search that IP address and get a much more accurate location… Apparently, IP addresses may not always be accurate due to the geolocation databases they run through. So at the time of that connection, my location was displaying as one place when I was really somewhere else. But when I search that IP address now, it shows my current and accurate location.

I’ve also experienced odd location issues in other areas… like when I access Netflix from a new device and it sends a confirmation email, it usually has the city wrong.

So… this is what I did to look into the odd location activity on my account and i’m comfortable saying it was a IP address geolocation error. It’s possible that’s what you’re seeing on your account too.

If not… next step i would recommend is to double check the email address you have on the account. If someone actually hacked your account, that would be one of the first things they’d change in order to keep access. Really look at the address because sometimes they’ll try to throw you off by making a similar email but with like an added dot, or an extra letter that you wouldn’t catch at first glance. You can change it back to your own address in addition to changing your password.

Those are my two main ideas. I’m not an expert in these things but that’s where i would start, especially if you’re not seeing any suspicious activity on your account. Anyone else with ideas or experience here, feel free to chime in!

[lacefuneral]

oh hey I discovered something really fucked up about Tumblr themes.

so. I have a modification in my CSS that is set to not display whatever my pinned post is set to on mobile. And this is because my theme is very old and the format doesn't match Tumblr's current post format in terms of image embedding. and it looks very yucky when you view my blog on desktop.

(also I have a sidebar, which has a bio. which, fun fact, is NOT connected to my mobile bio. something i did on purpose for the same reason. it conveys the same basic information but without all of the emojis and unicode art and shit. it's formatted to look good for That Sidebar Specifically.)

and I just assumed, that this would not affect my desktop archive. Because surely,  that is something entirely unconnected to my theme. that is something that Tumblr hardcoded like other parts of their website, that I should not be able to modify.

WRONG! apparently, hiding a post on my own blog with CSS also hides them in my archive. and I know this because I have multiple posts that are  tagged with #pinned. But NONE of them appear when i search for them in my archive. Which I don't think should be allowed????

now, the posts still exist. And I'm able to pull up some of them on mobile despite how terrible mobile searches work. And if the posts exist outside of my blog, such as in a public Tumblr search or public Tumblr tag, they can be recovered.  This happened yesterday, when I was unable to recover my own pinned post on desktop, but my friend was able to find it because ze searched the name of one of my sideblogs in public Tumblr search.

anyway. That's crazy. And it really shows that this website is ductaped together.

now, I don't want to submit any kind of report about this. Because I'm worried that they'll patch the ability for me to hide posts on my desktop theme. And I really don't want them to do that because I am very happy with my configuration that the blinkies are a mobile-only phenomenon.

but like. i still wanted to tell this as an anecdote because. what the fuck

[awiola]

Normal update, summer XXIII

RNG said to write the year in roman so here it is.

September is upon us so it's time for an update. I think I'll make them a seasonal[?] thing so there's actually enough to write about.

Let's start with failures ✨

My great, glorious and magnificient sunofes game with scifi elements is postponed indefinitely. I had some ideas but wasn't sure how to continue during certain moments so it's shelved for now. I still find the idea cool, or at least relaxing, so it's going to be finished eventually.

The spooktober idea has changed. Though I suppose that's not considered a failure? I realised that it's too big to create in a month and combining it with mushroom jam would feel kind of forced so it's also temporarily shelved. I'll talk about the new project later.

It came to my attention that most of my web builds don't display properly on mobile and require [not so] minor gui adjustments. I plan to take care of that this year if possible and also finish properly whatever project had some elements missing [like a CG, for example].

That's it for failures, time for other stuff.

Mushroom jam has officially started today.

It lasts three months so there's still time to join even after spooktober and such. As of writing this post, 236 people have joined so maybe we'll get 50 entries if it goes well.

Next year we'll have Insect (Adjacent) jam, lasting probably two months and starting around late summer. The exact date is tbd. Same with the jam's page so no link for now.

Current game stuff

[Apparently tumblr's html does not allow h3, interesting... ]

Other [secret] projects are going more or less as before, though I joined yet another one as a cg artist because I have absolutely no self restraint. It's not for a jam, though, so I can be prety chill with it. Can't really share the details yet but it's about ace teens. Look forward to it[?].

As I mentioned before, the spooktober project has changed. And separated so I'm also making something for mushroom jam later. Mushroom Game is still undecided but there's a strong chance it might be hanahaki inspired. But who knows, it could still change. I have three main contenders, might gain even more...

Spooktober Game is planned to be a surrealist dark comedy scifi [but unfunny cause I'm not funny]. How much it'll fit the genre - who knows. I'll definitely try.

I'm solo devving in case something went wrong; the character designs, however, were done by someone else as I can't decide on the general graphic design. I read a book on that so hopefully it helps me create better ui than before.

Plot wise it's inspired by many things but the structure is more like that of Liar Liar, Lily's day off or Pervert&Yandere. Basically save at every choice. I'll also prepare a handy flowchart for anyone interested as I'm using it to plan stuff anyway and name labels. The whole thing is supposed to be at least somewhat significantly chaotic but as usual, I ended up adding too many grounded[?] elements? Stuff that makes it less surrealist than I planned... I think it might actually change into a time loop story, even... Well, we'll see. I'll get a fun tester to see if it's okay or should be scrapped and rewritten.

Besides that... There's stuff I won't mention yet in case it never happened but I may or may not have some projects prepared for the future~~ But that's for the future.

Over.

[red-taileddolphin]

how the fuck did you type an interrobang on the G post

I’ve got a scant few special characters saved as shortcuts on my phone, but the real answer is you can just copy paste any of them from google. Unicode has some real funky characters that basically every screen can display, and some of them are even famous here in tumblr, like the sinhalese amogus or dick hieroglyphic. Here are some special characters I have shortcutted:

Interrobang ‽: yeah this one’s a good one. my shortcut for this is literally ?! so to get them separate I have to manually tell it not to autocorrect it

Shrug ¯\_(ツ)_/¯: I use shrugg as my shortcut and let me tell you NO emoji can get across this emotion. sometimes you just gotta ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Lenny face ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°): you know it, you love it, my shortcut is degdeg thanks to that one tumblr post where someone used a screenreader on the face

Special comma ‚: okay now we’re getting spicy. so tumblr doesn’t let you put commas in tags, right? it separates the tag when you type on on mobile and on both mobile and desktop all commas you type in the tags disappear. But they only specifically check for The Comma, unicode U+002C. But as mentioned unicode has some specific as hell characters, like the small comma or raised comma. I believe I use the small comma, accessed with my shortcut commma.

Bonus round: boii is a link to my longest yeah boi ever, goodshit is that copypasta with all the emojis, and eyee is for judging people ,’:-|. apparently I also have shwa saved in case I need a ə? alright

[homesception]

May 31, 2013 - part 1: wherein Lobac eats a cookie.

To be fair, it has been like two hundred years since my last update.  That’s a pretty good nap.  Just means I’m all the more rested to work on new stuff, right?  I mean, I need to keep a spritely pace up if I still plan on catching up to Lobac’s liveblog before said liveblog catches up to the comic.  Which for sure is still an actual thing at all, and not a bit of exclusive humor between friends.

Last time Lobac was getting into some theory crafting and analysis of the classpect system.  I didn’t have much to say about that at the time, particularly not much that wouldn’t qualify as spoilers, so iirc I was mostly just responding with random thoughts and video links, half of which are dead now.  There was a bit left over looking at the troll’s perster names, which was also good stuff, but lacking anything coherent to say about it, I’ll just gloss past the rest of that post, apart from:

Lobac said:

Thank you all for sticking around °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

As if you could ever get rid of me.  ~{@PQ}~

Moving on, we rejoin the comic with PM visiting the Black Queen to retrieve the mysterious GREEN PACKAGE, which had been impounded by agents of the Black Court as a result of a traffic violation.  The Black Queen cuts an imposing figure, and Lobac is, of course, duly imposed.

later, Lobac said:

Are those… tentacles ( ´ _ ｀) I thought only the imps were affected by the prototypings?

OH SHIT OH SHIT THAT LOOKS SO COOL HOT DAMN (゜▽゜) Wowow look at her joints! Look at all the carapace-y stuff going on there!

These days, Lobac’s soft spot for this particular sort of shiny, black, possibly betentacled monster-type aesthetic is well documented.  I’m pretty sure she would have loved the black queen’s design even if it wasn’t just objectively cool as hell, but that certainly doesn’t hurt.  I’m kind of sad that we never got a proper fight scene out of this particular version of her.

That’s not a spoiler is it?  I’m pretty sure that’s not a spoiler.

Yeah, the random objects the kids threw in the general directions of their seizuresprites are directly affecting the final boss. NOTHING COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG HERE EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE

I don’t see the problem here.  Nothing the kids could possibly put in those sprites could be at all unsettling or dangerous.

haa haa.  hee hee.  hoo hoo.

Her face is so weird though It’s Jaspers-shaped, and her eyes are constantly narrowed, I can’t even tell whether it’s in distaste or amusement

Why not both?

Andrew sure is proud of that hand’s close-up She’s not even dramatically pointing she’s literally just saying “yeah I dunno anything about that kinda shit you best go down there and ask my pretty princess, I mean, subordinate”

It is a pretty great hand, honestly.  I think this particular image gets called back to a few more times yet.

Yeah Rose! You go and fulfill your as of yet unclear vaguely Seering-related destiny

Yeah, Rose!  Get on that, maybe!

ROSE NO YOU ARE 13 THAT IS GONNA TASTE AWFUL TO YOU Heh I legitimately don’t know whether her mom would be proud of or disappointed in her if she could see her now Is this an act of defiance or emulation Just silly teenage antics, probably, but I’d like to think she misses her

Rooooooose Rose nooooooooooooooooo （ ´ω｀） Ehehe I love how the artstyle turns super silly to reflect how upset/surprised she is

These two panels constitute one of the most iconic funny moments in the comic.  It works really well.  Shoot, I should have done the post topper-edit based on these, huh?  Oh, well.  The one I already did took like four hours, mostly due to my extreme rustiness, so I’m not going back now.

Otherwise, I also like to think of Rose missing her mom here.  Maybe not admitting it to herself, but still.  I also still ascribe to the “everything Mom ever did was 110% unironic, Rose made up the whole passive aggressive conflict between them in her head, her mom wasn’t passive agressive she was just a bonkers drunk rich lady” headcannon that I think I spoke about ages ago in this very liveblog.

Anyway, yeah, this is both a hilarious joke and a fantastic little character moment for Rose.  Another contributing factor to Rose being my big early favorite with a seemingly insurmountable head start in the ‘best character’ race.

Actually, lately, since the end of the comic, she’s been gaining ground again for me?  I mean, one of the trolls definitely surpassed her for most of my Homestuck fan life, but... eh, whatever.  There’s no way I can getting into how my feelings about those characters developed over the comics life without being way more spoilery than even I’ve already been, so that kind of talk will have to wait for later.  Even if later means ‘years from now’ or ‘never’.

BOO FUCKING YAH, IT’S THE WHITE QUEEN Or Windswept Questant, for now She’s also as of yet uncorrupted by the kids’ silly sprite shenanigans

Lobac had been waiting for this reveal for a while, I think.

PM: Command John to put the carved tablet into a pyxis.

You follow the command telling you to command John to put the carved tablet in the pyxis and type, “John, put the carved tablet into the pyxis.” You successfully do that, and he successfully does that too. Everyone is friendly and cooperative.

Ah yes, you so rarely get this kind of friendly cooperation from narrators these days

It was a rather uncommonly tidy sequence, for this comic.

Shit I just remembered those typing hands we saw when trying to name Jack, the reader is like a physically present entity??? Maybe???

What prompted this thought?  The earlier black queen hand image hanging in your head, then a bit about narrators entering text, and that old bit just pops up?  It’s cool how brains work, making intuitive connections and all that.

What if we eventually zoom out to reveal a human exile commanding everyone. We’ve only been watching that human mess around up until now. The real story begins when they just suddenly go “whelp that was kinda fun. gotta look for food tho” at an incredibly dramatic moment.They turn away from the console.  And then we watch them slump through the desert for thousands of pages and their journey of introspective self-discovery is the actual story. Yes.

Shit, Lobac just predicted the whole narrative!  No point in continuing this liveblog, I guess.  “[#P%]t

Well, obviously this means that WV has an uncanny knack for distances and PM has one for sounds AR can probably track down crimes by their scent He’s like McGruff the Crime Dog, but a little less fluffy

I used to love McGruff the Crime Dog.  Until I grew up and realized he was a tool of THE MAN.

dear gOD SHE REALLY IS PUTTING JACK IN DRESSES (*≧▽≦)ﾉｼ He and Slick are basically the same person, right? Oh man he is gonna stab the shit out of her one of these days

~{%|%}~

Jack Noir, more like JACK NO. NO YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE OUT THERE MURDERING PEOPLE AND FROLICKING THROUGH THE STREETS WITH YOUR ASSHOLE CREW. WHAT ARE YOU DOING THIS IS PATHETIC o(`д´ ｡)

I’d say this is a “be careful what you wish for” moment, but I think Lobac knew exactly what she was doing here.

Ticket? Oh, this thing. Ha, ha, look at that, you are holding a ticket. How did that get in your hand? It belongs on the desk with the others. No, you are not here to pay a parking ticket. You explain to the frightening man that you are here to pick up that green parcel.

GIVE ME A C! GIVE ME A U! GIVE ME A T AND I AND E! sheeEEEE’S A CUTIE!!!!

Honestly, they’re all cuties.  the cuteness of the entire cast, even the villains mostly, in both visual depiction and personality, really is a big selling point of the whole comic.

There was a time when I wasn’t super into cute things.  I was never viscerally opposed to cuteness, never when through a virulently anti-girly-stuff phase, but these days I’m MUCH more into things being cute.  I just like cute characters!  Sure, I like things that are somber and spooky, but the best is when they’re somber and spooky AND super cute!

Like, Hollow Knight.  That whole game is like exactly my favorite aesthetic these days.  Sad and morose and dark and adorable.

But more often than not homestuck still comes pretty close to that ideal.  You just want to hug the shit out of all of these doofuses, a few stab wounds here or there be damned.  Speaking of stab wounds...

WHOOPS TENSION. THIS IS NOT WHAT I MEANT. I DO NOT ACTUALLY WANT YOU TO START KILLING PEOPLE OK

Maybe Lobac didn’t know what she was asking for earlier.

Wait, the crowns, what the fuck, he wants her to KILL THE KING AND QUEEN??? SHE’S JUST A MAIL LADY ヾ(´･-･｀)ノ”

How does he even know she’s desperate enough to kill people just to get one package?

The PARCEL MISTRESS departs with her mission of double agency. You wonder if she’ll actually be so foolish as to attempt to uphold her end of the lopsided bargain. You make a policy of handing out a REGISWORD and a HITLIST to just about everyone who enters your office. But you never think anyone’s actually going to GO THROUGH with it. 

What a phenomenal asshole That explains that

pretty much.  As for the box itself...

Yeeeeah you’re not actually gonna show me so, go ahead, taunt me, get it over with

PFFFFPFPFPFPFFF WHAT SOMETHING COMPLETELY RIDICULOUS APPARENTLY? NOT AS RIDICULOUS AS HIS FACE THO. Magnificent asshole cutie

Hahah, \[&P%]/

Anyway, at this point the action cuts back to the kids, and that seems a good a time as any to take a break.  I could just save this as a draft and finish the rest of lobac’s post later?  I mean, then I wouldn’t have to take extra time for another panel edit?  But I kind of want to post something now, so I guess well do this one in parts again.  part 2 scheduled for, let’s be ambitious and say may 2022

How did I ever use to have the time for this blogging shit?  I’ve been working on this for like six hours, and only got like a third of the way through one update?  I guess I was just younger then.

I’m so old now.  Time just gets away from me.

And my back hurts all the time.

[harwinsgirl]

The White Sheep - Harwin Strong X Reader

You are the second born daughter of King Viserys, often referred to as the White Sheep, as you are too pure to be reminiscent of the black and red colors of your family. You fall in love with your personal guard, Harwin Strong. But when he rejects you, you seek to mend your broken heart in the streets of Kings Landing.

(This is the first fic I’m posting on tumblr! Apologies if the formatting is wacky because I’m on mobile! Hope you like it! Angst with a happy ending because I’m a sucker for it, also slight violence/creepy assholes are mentioned)

The evening had been a long one. A feast, followed by rounds of drinking and dancing, welcomed esteemed guests to Kings Landing. Many of them had hoped to grab either yours or your older sister Rhaenyra’s attention. After all, being one of the daughters of the ailing king who had no sons to offer his realm, it became apparent that one of you would rule the Seven Kingdoms one day, at least for a time. Men salivated at the thought of the wealth and prosperity that would be promised by your hand in marriage. All who tried to win your hearts failed miserably, each attempt fizzling out quicker than the one before it as the two of you grew weary of the men vying for your time. You gave up long before your sister and you tried not to note the look of disappointment on your father’s face when you asked for your personal guard, Ser Harwin, to escort you to your chambers. He certainly did not believe the lie you fed him about having caught a chill from the night air, but after several goblets of wine, the king could not have argued if he wanted to. At least not articulately.

Usually you and your knight would discuss the suitors (and all of their shortcomings) in much detail on the walk back into the castle. There would be laughter and giggles and you would fall into a similar stride before you bid each other goodnight. Sometimes he would even sneak in for a nightcap, enjoying a drink or two and spending time conversing with you until the early hours of the morning. However, this time was different.

This event felt more serious to you. There were men that spoke to you with a tone that was entirely too comfortable, as if they expected that you would accept a proposal if it were offered. They knew certain things that you liked, or didn’t. It was clear that someone was feeding them information in an attempt to make you feel more at ease in their presence. Your father wanted you married, and you couldn’t deny him much longer. But deep down you knew that you didn’t want to marry any of the lords on display tonight. The brazen ones, the old lords with aging hair or the young ones full of bravado and unchecked confidence, the ones who couldn’t hide their interest in the jewels you wore, and even the ones who seemed perfectly nice and proper.

You wanted to marry your knight.

Ser Harwin.

Your feelings for him were strong and they always had been. The day you two became introduced was seared into your memory. Curly brown hair that fell above his shoulders, deep cerulean eyes, a voice as gentle as honey but at the same time rough like the sand. You were transfixed. But if he were simply just handsome, your feelings might have been fleeting, chased away by thoughts of your respective duties. But Harwin was so much more than his looks. He was charming and he had a quick wit about him. Aside from your sister, you rarely had the pleasure of interacting with someone who wasn’t afraid of showing you their true personality, and Harwin was always his authentic self. He was courteous and kind but also lively, full of quips and quiet barbs that never failed to make you laugh. Your personal guard soon became your dearest friend and confidant, and your love only grew deeper from there.

You had been described as the white sheep of your family. Typically one would say black, but you were always described as pure and chaste, the traditional black and red colors of your family not matching your nature. Even your fury had a quietness to it. Having a fiery firstborn sister like Rhaenyra meant that you were hardly noticed or mentioned as an afterthought. Which hardly bothered you, as the freedom your sister so badly craved was almost second nature to you. Although still bound by duty and shackled by royalty, you were afforded much more privacy, whether you chose to hide in the expanse of a library or the greens of the gardens. There was a comfort in aloneness, but there were times where it was too much to bear, where it started to creep into the territory of being forgotten. But Harwin chased away any feelings of loneliness simply by being in the room with you. He made you feel seen, appreciated, even loved.

“We have arrived, princess.” Harwin said quietly, breaking you from your thoughts. Something was off about him too. He hadn’t said a word the whole way back to your room. You didn’t know if you should take comfort in that or not.

“So we have.” You felt a sudden rush of adrenaline course through you, like a flash of fire in your belly. He had to know how you felt. And if not now, then when? Time to talk of these matters was beginning to dwindle, and you knew it. “Would you join me for a moment, Ser Harwin?”

He hesitated. There was a playfulness between you two that he had to come to expect. If things were still truly lighthearted in nature, you wouldn’t have had to ask. You would’ve grabbed him by the arm and dragged him inside already. The first time you had done so he was rightfully alarmed, squabbling about the indecency of it all, but it became such a regular occurrence that he began to just shake his head and take his place in one of the tufted arm chairs that adorned your room.

“The hour has grown late. You should retire soon, princess.” He said gently.

“Please ser,” your voice was heavy and thick with emotion, “I must talk with you.”

Harwin sighed and made a motion for you to enter first. He closed the door behind the two of you and stood in front of it.

The fire inside you started to die, washed away with waves of dread. You didn’t know how to broach the subject, and so you stood there awkwardly, wringing your hands until you mustered the courage to speak. “My father wishes for me to marry.”

Harwin nodded in agreement. “Every man wishes to see his daughter contented with marriage. You knew this day would come. Your father has more at stake compared to others in this same situation. Of course he’s going to try and introduce you to suitors, princess.”

“I do not wish to marry them. I do not love them.”

“My lady-“

“I love you, Ser Harwin.”

Harwin’s expression was unreadable. He had never looked so serious, at least in your presence. You watched him swallow and clear his throat, shifting uncomfortably against the door. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before flashing you a small smile. “You flatter me, princess.”

It wasn’t the reaction you were hoping for, but you were undeterred. “I do not intend flatter you ser. I only speak the truth. I love you, Harwin Strong. I want to be your wife.” You approached him and took one of his gloved hands, placing it against your cheek as you looked up at him. He let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes again as he stroked your cheek softly. You leaned into his touch and took another step closer, only to be met with him pulling his hand back to place it gingerly on your shoulder, holding you in place.

“My princess, I’m afraid you may be confusing love with infatuation.” Harwin spoke barley above a whisper. His expression was pained, which did nothing to ease the sensation of your heart breaking. “You are so young. There are men who are more suited to be your partner than me. You’ll come to understand this.”

“Very well ser. I thank you for your time and honesty,” you said politely, a fake smile plastered over your face. Of course he didn’t love you. Why hadn’t you seen it before? You were too young, too inexperienced for a man like him. He thought nothing more of you than a silly girl with a crush. Worse, he probably only thought of you as a job, a chore, a burden. All of those memories of his company that once brought you great happiness were tainted with the thought of him counting down the minutes until he could leave. You would not waste his time any longer, you decided.

“The hour has grown late, as you said. I shall bid you goodnight.” You turned and faced the fireplace, hot tears streaming down your face. You bit down on your lip to swallow a sharp cry that threatened to spill forth. Despite your best efforts, Harwin knew immediately how upset you were. He took a step closer to you and began to speak again.

“Princess-“

“Goodnight, Ser Harwin.” You said coldly, not turning to look at him.

You heard the sound of Harwin’s armor clinking softly as he bowed. The creak of the door signaled his exit. Only then did you collapse onto the floor and let out a sob that wracked your whole body. Tears continued to spill until no more could come forth. Your eyes felt heavy, and soon sleep overcame you.

You refused to be seen by your handmaidens the next morning. You also refused breakfast. The only good thing about this affliction of the heart was that it gave credence to your “chill of the night” excuse that you gave your father the evening before.

You did not leave your room the entire day.

When the day had waned and night was beginning to fall, someone knocked on the door and inquired about dinner. Your stomach rumbled at the thought but your appetite immediately soured at the thought of Harwin being outside the door. You declined dinner as well.

Your sister insisted on a maester being sent in to examine you but you managed to charm your way out of that as well. You just wanted to be alone.

You walked over to your window at one point and took in a view of the kingdom as it lit up the dark.

Harwin had practically implied that you were too inexperienced to be his woman. That you were a spoiled, privileged princess that did not know anything of the real world.

That was going to change, tonight.

You sent word for one of your handmaidens to see you at once. You gnawed at your fingernails as the moments passed until finally you heard a small timid knock at your door. You practically pulled her inside by her arm, closing the door quickly in case your knight was waiting outside.

“My lady, we have been worried about you today.” The handmaiden spoke softly. “Are you ill? Can I send for anything for you?”

“I just need your clothes.” You said quickly, trying to ease the confused look on her face with a dismissive wave. “I promise I will take good care of them. I will give you one of my jeweled necklaces as a thank you. This means a lot to me.”

Excited by the promise of your jewelry, the young girl nodded furiously and started to disrobe. You gave her one of your nightdresses to change into and told her to wait several moments before returning to her quarters. After she left, you took great care into tucking your hair into the white cap that she had left you. It amazed you that once you had hidden your signature Targaryen locks and changed your dress that you went from Princess of Dragonstone to handmaiden, all except for the hint of lilac in your eyes.

Your sister had taught you how to escape from the Red Keep before, and even though it had been years, you weaved through the damp tunnels expertly. Once you were outside the main gates, you paused. This was the farthest you had ever gotten before. Rhaenyra was much more adventurous than you, and after she failed to persuade you to join her, she would take off anyway. You admired her fearlessness as you watched her disappear down the road until she was out of sight. You would always wait for her to return, curled up in a cloak as the night air nipped at you. She never chided you for not coming. If anything, when she would come back she would reward you with some little trinket, joking that you were the better of the two and you deserved something for it.

Your sister would have an entire evening of freedom and exhilaration, and you would choose the comfort of the steps of your home, every time.

Not this time.

You hurriedly rushed down the same road your sister took all those years ago, your fears and doubts biting at your insides until you reached the outskirts of Kings Landing. The darkness of night ebbed away with torches and lanterns that were lit in the city streets. You were amazed at how many people were up at the late hour. Men and women drinking, laughing, crowding the roads as they made their way towards taverns and street shows. Vendors offering cooked meats and shoddy jewelry. Drunkards spitting and coughing up their wine, couples intertwined and dancing as bards filled the night air with love songs. It was all too much, too fast, but you were determined to drink it up. Hesitant, you were light on your feet as you took in all of the sights as fast as you could, maneuvering through different alleys as you continued your journey. The farther away you were from home, the better you began to feel. A caged princess, finally experiencing life. Gone were the thoughts of a dutiful, handsome knight who wanted nothing to do with you, banished by the adrenaline of new sights and sounds. You rounded a corner and found yourself in an alleyway that seemed far less lit than the others you came from.

“A handmaiden? A bit surprising to see one of you out and about, aren’t you supposed to stay inside the Red Keep at all times?” You froze, turning to find the owner of the low, ominous voice. A man, who couldn’t be that much older than you, was leaning against a back wall, most of his form still shrouded in darkness.

“Excuse me sir?” You said, internally wincing at how meek you sounded.

“You’re a servant. You’re supposed to stay put, in case you need to serve.” He pushed himself off of the wall and made his way over to you. The first thing you noticed about him was his smell, his breath reeked of ale. Still, the way he approached you was similar to a wolf stalking it’s prey, and you began to feel fear pooling in the pit of your stomach. You hadn’t thought to bring a weapon.

“I’ve seen a few of you out before during the day, fetching things for your ladies. But what could you be doing out in the city during an hour so late? You must’ve snuck out, haven’t you?” He snaked one hand around your waist, drumming his fingers against the velvet skirt of your gown.

“Leave me alone, ser. I have places to be.” You said firmly.

“Insolent. I pity you though, such a pretty little thing without anyone to protect her. I’ll make sure you get home safe, in exchange for your company for the rest of the night.” He smirked, tightening his grip on you. Frantically, you turned your head to look for any passerby to scream for. Immediately sensing your distress, his hand gripped your neck tightly in attempt to silence you before you could try.

“Brat. I’ll remind you what it means to serve.” He snarled.

A quick flash of silver appeared before your eyes before you heard the soft squelch of flesh. Scarlet blood splattered against the white cream fabric of your corset. The man’s hand had been sliced clean off with a sword. He let out the loudest howl you had ever heard as he collapsed back onto the dirt. Quickly, you turned to face the man who attacked him and your blood ran cold. Harwin Strong was wiping his sword clean with a cloth, glaring down at the sniveling man with the burning hatred of a thousand suns. You had never seen this blind fury from him before. You stood rooted to the spot, partly in fear from what would happen next.

“I would say unhand the lady, but I took the liberty of doing that for you.” Harwin spat at him, taking your arm forcefully. “You are lucky no more will come from this, rapist. If the lady wasn’t present, you would have a lot more to lose.”

Harwin’s grip on you was painful but you were too scared to do anything more than follow him as he weaved his way through the crowds, signaling his approach with a grunt to warn others to move out of his way. You earned a couple of a looks from different folk, some of them murmuring about what trouble you must be in for a white cloak to have apprehended you. You tried your best to hide under your bonnet and keep your eyes focused on the road ahead of you. Your night of freedom had nearly cost you your virtue and you were in a significant amount of trouble, should Harwin choose to rat you out to your father.

The sounds of the city began to dwindle as the two of you started to get closer to the castle walls. Harwin had yet to acknowledge you, save the vice grip he continued to have on your arm. Timidly, you began to test the waters. You tapped on his shoulder and waited for him to turn around, to no avail.

You cleared your throat. “Harwin?”

“We are not speaking.” Was his reply.

“What?”

“I said no speaking. I am so angry with you that I do not trust my words.” He said plainly, almost indifferently. Anger started to bubble inside you.

Why the hell was he angry with you? He made it abundantly clear that he did not return your affections. You had spent the entire day pouring over your time together, and each memory led to the realization that you were the instigator. You asked him to be your guard. You asked for his company. You pulled him into your chambers for more time with him, and he used to object to it before giving in to your whims. You were blind to it before, but it was evident that you had essentially held the man hostage in your life. And you wanted no more of it.

“Angry with me? Why? What I do in my own time is no business of yours-“

“Except that it is!” He roared. I am your knight, your sworn protector, and you left the safety of the Keep! How the hell is that not my business?”

Your eyes widened.

You had forgotten to send your letter.

“I am so sorry ser,” you said timidly. Your eyes were cast down, so you didn’t notice the way he flinched at your formality and the softness of your voice. “It slipped my mind this day, I genuinely was not feeling well. I had written a letter to my father, asking for you to be absolved of this role.”

Stunned, Harwin could only watch as your wrought your hands together with nervousness. “Please do not be angry. I did not write anything that would implicate that you did not perform your duties well. In fact, I asked if you could be promoted to the Commander of the City Watch. You would be an excellent commander, even now I can see how well you can handle the brutishness of the city. It would mean a higher wage and nicer quarters as well.” You stopped and looked at him in the eyes. “I only want good things for you, Ser Harwin. Many thanks for taking such good care of me these years. Gods know that you are due for a promotion after all this time in a position you never asked for, nor wanted. I should’ve vouched for you a lot sooner, and spared you from my company.”

“I decline.” He said, firmly.

“I must insist,” you said, smiling sadly. “Again, I am sorry I did not realize sooner.”

“Realize what, may I ask, princess?” Harwin said with an exasperated sigh.

“That you detest me.” You said, cocking your head to the side with confusion. Then you righted yourself, as you had another epiphany. “I know why you are upset.”

“Wha-“

“You are slighted because I am a woman and I am deciding your future, is that not correct? If you do not need my letter-“

“No more talking.” Harwin said bristly. He took your arm and took you off the path towards the Red Keep, which you could see looming in the distance. He led you through a dense thicket, pushing at branches as he made his way to a small creek that bubbled past calmly. It seemed like he knew this area and had been here before. To your surprise, he placed both hands on your shoulder to keep you steady before dropping to his knees in front of you.

“First, my lady, please do not ever insinuate again that I would ever take offense at a woman acting in my interest. A woman brought me into this world. I have nothing but respect for your kind, and I would’ve hoped that you knew that of my character.”

Before you could speak, he took both of your hands in his and squeezed gently, a silent plea for you to let him finish. “I know that what I said last night has planted seeds of doubt in your mind. And for that, I am sorry. What I said was not a rejection, or a dismissal, despite what you may have felt. In good conscience, when I thought about the differences of our statuses, and what I could offer you, I deemed it was best to gently remove myself from your consideration. I could not imagine that being the heir to Harrenhal was enough to persuade your father into taking me as a son-in-law. I wanted to save both of us the anguish of being told we could not love each other.”

He looked down momentarily, only to meet with your eyes again, tears starting to form as he spoke with thick emotion. “But by the gods, was I wrong. I hate myself for implying that your love for me could be fleeting. The sounds of your crying pricked at my heart and I wanted nothing more than to hold you in my arms. Knowing that I had done that to you, it still wounds me, even now.”

He sniffled and shook his head slightly, casting aside the tears that fell. You were still absolutely bewildered by this encounter. Harwin had shared many sides of himself that you were certain many were not as fortunate to see, but you had never seen him so emotional. You had surely never seen him cry.

He cleared his throat and continued again once he regained composure. “When I first came to the estate, I knew I wanted purpose, in whatever form that it came in. But in my short time in Kings Landing, I had already begun to detest it. The nobles were stuffy and the townsfolk deplorable, in a general sense. I was surrounded by so much filth. I found small pockets to escape in, such as this one, and I found beauty in them, but I was not tasked with defending a creek. But I knew I could do my job well enough, no matter the circumstances.”

“And then I met you. The tamest Targaryen. The quiet beauty. Very obviously overlooked, and I could tell in a sense that you enjoyed that. But the way your eyes met mine, that first day we met, it was like you were asking me to know you, and instantly it felt like I had. I don’t think you know this, but I asked to be your guard before you requested it.”

The look on your face confirmed that for him, and he continued. “I knew instantly I had found my purpose. To guard the rarest gem. To keep you safe, to love you in all the ways I could. Listening to you recite poetry and bringing you small plates when you grew hungry. Guiding you to your chambers after long nights. You were absolutely divine and I swore to defend you no matter what.”

“Do you think me a child, Ser Harwin?” You asked quietly. His words were as sweet as cherry wine, but you also worried that perhaps his love was not romantic, but more born from duty and respect. You were after all, the white sheep, and it would make sense for a man as honorable as Harwin to be drawn to you, only to become devoted to your protection.

Harwin smiled and brought one of your hands to kiss it. “Not in the slightest my lady. There’s a difference between being demure and innocent and being naive. You are no child, you are no fool. I only refused your offer because I thought you deserved better. Never because I doubted your conviction. In my attempt to be gentle, I made you feel so low about yourself. Again, I am sorry.”

“What do we do now?” You said softly, staring back into his deep blue eyes. “You do not want to join the city watch, but you do not want my hand-“

“My dearest love, I have rambled on for far too long, because the reason I am on my knees is to ask for your hand.” Harwin said plainly. You let out a small gasp as Harwin produced a small ring, embedded with a white gem in the center.

“Targaryen red never suited you my love, I hope a diamond will suffice.” He said with a grin.

“You are asking me to be your wife?” You said, a hint of incredulousness in your voice.

“Yes my dear lady. Exactly as you said. I am asking you. Your opinion matters most. I will deal with our fathers after the fact, but this is and should be your decision. It may take convincing but ultimately I do believe your father loves you enough to ensure your happiness. I just may need to bring you along to sing my praises.” Harwin held up the ring to you again. “Please, my greatest love. Honor me by allowing me to be your husband. Forgive me for being a fool and denying you. I swear to be yours and only yours for as long as I live.”

You nodded and extended your hand for him, allowing him to slide the ring onto your finger. When you let out a small, happy giggle, a huge grin washed over his face as he stood up and lifted you in his arms, spinning you around as he held you close. His lips were upon yours in an instant, flooding you with a feeling of warmth as he pressed kiss after kiss to your lips, leaving them red and tender.

“I have the most beautiful lady wife in the seven kingdoms!” He practically howled.

When he put you down, his smile faded into a tight line. “Who is also in a world of trouble, sneaking off into the city. That is the first and only time you pull a stunt like that. You will never cause me such grief again.”

“I am sorry, lord husband.” You said wrapping your arms around him and resting against his chest.

“You mustn’t look at me with those big beautiful eyes. I forget my anger when you look at me like that.” He said quietly, his fingers cradling your face.

“You’ve told me your weakness, Harwin. Now that is your mistake.” You said with a grin. He peered down at you and pressed his forehead to yours.

“I’m beginning to suspect you are not as pure as you present yourself, dear lady of mine.”

“I never was.”

[thecassadilla]

Hi Cass! I'd love to read #3 "I think I love you" for kristanna. Regards 😘

Hi, Angie!!! I really hope you like this fic!!! 🥰 It’s a modern au. I apologize if the formatting is wonky, I had to post this using tumblr mobile. Special thanks to @tamorasky for helping me with this one!!

3. “I think I love you.” Send me a prompt!

The first time Anna told Kristoff that she loved him was on their third date.

He’d just returned to the table she had been saving for them at the local hamburger joint, setting down a tray of burgers and fries and milkshakes in the space in front of her for them to gorge themselves on. Anna had been talking about how hungry she was since he’d picked her up, and apparently, finally setting eyes on the tray of food had been enough for her to proclaim her affections for him.

“I think I love you,” she said, beaming at him with sparkling eyes.

Kristoff was completely taken aback by how easily the words slipped out of her mouth, barely able to focus on anything other than his shaking hands and racing mind and whether or not he should say it back to her. Even though the thought of Anna telling him that she loved him was enough to make his heart drum like a heavy metal rock song, there were two problems. The first was that they’d only been on three official dates and he knew there was no way she could already be in love with him. The second, which was directly tied to the first, was the possibility that she was actually talking about the food and not about him - as soon as she’d taken the first bite of her cheeseburger, she seemed to completely forget about what she’d said, instead talking about how good the food was and how she waited all day for this moment.

But Kristoff didn’t forget. How could he?

The next time she said something similar wasn’t too long after the burger joint incident, but it involved a completely different set of circumstances. He had been expecting to spend a boring evening at home by himself, but his mood was instantly brightened when his phone started ringing and he saw Anna’s name displayed across the screen. With a smile, he answered the phone, only for Anna’s voice to urgently come through the speaker before he could even say “hello.”

“Kristoff, it’s an emergency!”

Less than an hour later, he found himself standing in the feminine hygiene products aisle of the grocery store, completely overwhelmed by all the options on the shelf. Nervously, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Anna, hoping she’d be able to point him in the right direction.

“I’m really out of my realm of expertise here,” he chuckled nervously. “Which ones do you need?”

“Just the regular kind.”

His eyes scanned over the shelves. “Um...what does regular mean?”

“Like...regular!” was her unhelpful answer. “Just get the pink box that says ‘regular’ on it.”

“There are a lot of pink boxes.”

“It’s on the bottom shelf, usually.”

He squatted down, squinting at the tiny font before finally locating the one she seemed to be talking about - or so he hoped. “Okay, I got it. Do you need anything else?”

“Midol,” she answered quickly. “And chocolate ice cream!”

“Got it.”

“You’re the best!”

After gathering the rest of the items she needed and garnering a look of sympathy from the cashier in the checkout lane, he set off to Anna’s house. Before he could knock on her front door, but with his hand poised and ready to, it swung open.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Anna exclaimed, grabbing the plastic shopping bag from his hand and rising up on her toes to pepper kisses over his face. “I love you!”

Kristoff blushed. “Oh, I -”

But in a flash, she was running towards the bathroom, calling to him from over her shoulder. “I owe you one!”

And in an instant, his heart had plummeted to the pit of his stomach.

A bit of time passed before another L-word incident occurred. One late night phone call and a drive to a nightclub later, and Anna was sitting in the passenger seat of his truck, drunk out of her mind after a night out with her girlfriends.

“Tonight was so fun,” Anna slurred. “I had the best time ever.”

Kristoff chuckled, tearing his eyes away from the road for a moment to peer over at her. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, but it’s so much better now that I’m with you,” she said, a high-pitched giggle escaping her lips as she placed a hand on his bicep. “You’re my favorite person.”

“Am I?” he asked, unable to hide his growing smile.

“Uh huh. Whenever I’m around you, the butterflies in my belly don’t stop fluttering and I think…” she trailed off, hiccuping. “I think that means that I love you.”

Kristoff swerved the truck at her confession, instantly grateful that there was no one else on the road at that hour and that an accident had been avoided. Though he was unsure of what to say, opened his mouth to respond, only to be cut off by Anna continuing.

In a way, he was glad that she hadn’t given him the opportunity to respond because he didn’t know what exactly he’d respond with, but the thought lingered in his head. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to tell her that he felt the same way - that he felt the butterflies, too, and that he loved her - but the words died in his throat. She continued chatting throughout the duration of the drive, and when he finally pulled up to his apartment complex, they both climbed out of the car.

“Can you carry me?” she whimpered, raising her arms slightly and not moving from where she was standing by the car door. “My feet hurt.”

“Of course.”

He walked over and in one swift motion, swept her off of her feet and cradled her in his arms. She rested her head against his chest, clutching the fabric of his t-shirt as he carried her towards his apartment. Though it was a bit of a struggle to get the door open, he managed to get them both inside safely before heading straight for the bedroom.

“Kristoff?” Anna whispered.

He peered down at her. “Hmm?”

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Any time.”

“You’re so good to me.”

“You’re good to me, too,” Kristoff smiled. As gently as he could, he laid her on the bed, pushing back the sheets before sliding her high heels off of her feet. “Is that better?”

A relieved grin spread across her lips as she glanced up at him through hooded eyes. “Much better.”

“Good.” He pulled the sheets over her body before ducking down to brush her bangs out of her eyes and press a kiss to her forehead. “Try to get some sleep, okay?”

“Mmhmm,” she nodded, already close to dozing off.

He returned to his full height, smiling down at her sleeping form before turning on his heel to switch off the light.

“Kristoff?” Anna mumbled.

He peered over his shoulder just in time to catch her eyes slowly blinking open. “Yeah?”

“I love you.”

But before Kristoff could say anything back to her, her eyes closed again and she settled against the pillow. A yearning, aching feeling began to spread in his chest, knowing full well that she wouldn’t remember saying that in the morning. And though he didn’t say it out loud, the only words repeating in his brain were I love you too.

As he got himself ready for bed a little while later, he tried to rationalize every time she’d said the words “love” and “you” in the same sentence. She was drunk. It was an emergency. She was starving. Maybe she doesn’t mean it. Maybe she just says it to everyone. Maybe I’m just overthinking it.

With a sigh, Kristoff climbed into bed next to her and stared at the ceiling until his eyes finally became too tired to stay awake anymore.

Unsurprisingly, he woke up before her the next morning. She had migrated in her sleep, moving impossible close to him, one of her legs sprawled over his and her arm strewn across his chest. He laid there, unmoving, until she finally began to stir and squinted her eyes at him. Kristoff smiled. “Good morning, sunshine.”

Anna groaned, burying her face into the pillow.

“How are you feeling?”

“Gross,” she answered, her voice muffled by the pillow. After a moment, she turned to face him. “My head is pounding.”

“Let me get you some aspirin and make you some breakfast. You’ll feel better if we get some food in you.” Kristoff moved to push himself up off the mattress, but Anna pulled him back down.

“No, just…” she trailed off, nuzzling her face against his chest. “Stay here and snuggle with me.”

“Okay.” He settled back down, wrapping his arms around her and stroking her hair with his hand.

“Thank you for always being there for me.” She angled her head upwards so she could meet his gaze. “I really don’t know what I would do without you.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “I don’t know what I would do without you, either.”

“I just want you to know that I meant what I said last night,” Anna murmured.

Kristoff furrowed his eyebrows, slightly confused by what she was referring to. “What did you say?”

“I said that I love you,” she answered. “I did say it, right? I didn’t just dream it?”

“Oh. Oh.” His eyebrows shot up as he finally understood what she meant, a rush of adrenaline shooting through his veins. “You...you did.”

“Oh, okay.” She furrowed her brows for a fraction of a second. “Good.”

“I, um…” he trailed off, swallowing thickly. “I wasn’t sure if you just said it because of the alcohol o-or because you were half-asleep. I didn’t think you would remember saying it, honestly.”

“Oh...yeah, no. I mean, I was drunk and half-asleep, but I did mean it.” Anna huffed a small laugh, her eyes crinkling in the corners as she added, “I’ve meant it every time I said it. I love you, Kristoff.”

“I love you, too,” Kristoff breathed, barely able to contain the smile spreading over his lips. “I love you so much.”

And as their lips met amidst a flurry of giggles, all the doubt disappeared and all was right with the world.

[pandalandalopalis]

DEVIL MAY CRY WOLF - MATT MURDOCK X MUTANT READER MASTERLIST

[Updated December 11, 2023]

The first time you jumped, it was 2014 and you were nine years old. You were in the back of your parents’ car — then you were in New York, standing on the street … and it was 1992.

The second time you jumped, it was 1998 and you were fifteen years old. You were heading back home to Saint Agnes after school had ended — and then you were knee-deep in snow, in Russia, in 1970. Outside a Red Room facility.

The third time you jumped, you were twenty-five and had spent ten years training as a Red Room agent. Ten years training your body to use your mutation. Jumping in space was easy — jumping in time was not. But you did it. After ten years, you did it. Now you have to live with the trauma.

Five years later, killing is still the only thing you know how to do, and the only thing you do best. In 2016, a vigilante named Daredevil stops you from killing a man who attacked you. He tells you that you can do better. You think maybe he’s right. But in 2017, Matt Murdock is in the darkest place in his life. When you show up to save him, he’s not exactly grateful. And when he finds out that you’re the best friend he grew up with in Saint Agnes that disappeared almost 20 years ago — things get even more complicated.

You’ll have to drag Matt out of the dark while being jaw-deep in it yourself. And you’ll have to try your best to do better — when Matt is trying his best to do worse.

THIS SERIES IS RATED MATURE FOR DARK THEMES INCLUDING VIOLENCE, SUBSTANCE ABUSE (DRUGS AND ALCOHOL), MENTIONS OF RAPE, AND MENTIONS OF SUICIDE.

This series uses formatting for effect. In order to fully experience the story, it is recommended that you do not read it on the tumblr mobile app.

Also apparently tumblr fucking removes spacing if you read the story on your dashboard rather than directly on my blog. Spacing is important to the story. For the full effect, it’s recommended that you read it directly on my blog rather than on your dashboard.

Create to writeyourmindaway for creating the divider I use for this story!

[Read it on AO3]

[Playlist]

[Edit]

[Gifset] [Gifset 2] [Gifset 3] [Gifset by buriedhatchetcominguplavender]

Part 1

Prologue

Chapter One: Frank Castle

Chapter Two: We Only See Each Other At Funerals

Chapter Three: Red-Tinted Mirrors

Chapter Four: This Doesn’t Mean I Care

Chapter Five: Promises, Promises

Chapter Six: Copycat

Chapter Seven: To Kill or Not To Kill

Chapter Eight: Take My Hand

Part 2

Chapter Nine: The Plan

Chapter Ten: Jigsaw

Chapter Eleven: Masks

Chapter Twelve: The Past and the Future have You Cornered (Are You Afraid? Are You Afraid?)

Chapter Thirteen: Blind Trust // Heavy Lies the Head that Knows the Avengers

Chapter Fourteen: Words Said in a Vigilante’s Shower

Chapter Fifteen: The Telepath

Chapter Sixteen: Wolf, Interrupted

Chapter Seventeen Coming Soon!

Chapter Eighteen: Tony’s Party Coming Soon!

(Chapter title previews are subject to change.)

(Note on Timing under the cut)

A Note on Timing: The Reader in this story (I have nicknamed her Wolf to separate her from my other xReader story) is a time-traveller. I recognize that sometimes this will make things confusing, especially the difference between what time period she’s in and how much time has passed for her specifically. In order to help with this, there are headers at the beginning of sections of the story that take place in different times or have a time skip (unless they’ve been omitted for story reasons). The time period (and place) will be displayed in bold, such as New York, 2015, New York, November 2017, New York, May 2017 -- but if there is a time skip that is the passing of time for Wolf herself, it will be displayed in bold and italics, such as Five Years (Give or Take) Later. The difference is that while the last scene may have taken place in New York, 2015, the Five Years Later does not mean that the next scene takes place in 2020, but rather that it has been five years chronologically for Wolf. I will include the time period underneath the time skip. So even though the last scene took place New York, 2015, the time period under Five Years Later is New York, 2016. Hope this makes sense! I know it can get confusing, so feel free to message if you have any questions!

[girlprince-of-the-sexbots]

ok so I've updated my blog description now cause apparently it's been invisible on mobile the whole time??

like

the description editor allows you to use html (and by extension, css), which means you can make your bio look like this:

but for some reason, tumblr won't display it outside of your desktop page, so, on mobile (or on /blog/view pages) it just looks like this:

which is far from the optimal result.

so uh yeah I changed it now.

[crusherthedoctor]

Out all the eggman boys he pilots for battle and what not like the egg dragoon or death egg robot, what are some of your favorites? And do you have any ideas you wish he would employ in the future?

It should be mentioned that, being the Eggman fanboy that I am, I love many of them, even the simplest or shittiest ones (ie: Egg Dealer), because the aesthetic of Eggman's style really appeals to me, and the way his machines can range from goofy to intimidating, or both simultaneously, can be seen as an extension of how versatile the doctor himself is.

Still, I do have my favourites. Most of them are the ones you'd expect, but here goes:

Well you gotta start with the classic, don't you? The first of Eggman's king-sized monuments to his own visage, and more than deserving of its iconic reputation.

This one's a fan favourite when it comes to his smaller scale Egg Mobile attachments, and it's easy to understand why. It's an undeniably brilliant design that doesn't have any obvious weaknesses for armchair intellectuals to point and go "Why does this video game boss have that? That's stupid, IQ of 300 my ass, I'm such a clever internet person, please give me all your praise".

The Death Egg Robot may be the one everyone knows, but the Great Eggman Robo is the one we all strive for. Both phases of the fight may be straightforward, but the scale of the behemoth cements the tense atmosphere, and it happens to be smack dab in the middle of arguably the greatest finale in a Sonic game, which is as wonderful as it is in part due to Eggman never, ever giving up.

A more unconventional choice here. There may not be much to these two fights in particular, but I just really like the general concept of Eggman taking ancient statues or other such structures, and weaponizing them. It's a nice spin on his usual motif of converting Mother Nature to his own preference, as well as defacing ancient histories and legacies for the sake of his own.

Both of Eggman's final mechs in SA1 are awesome. The Egg Viper is a really cool design and gave birth to a certain meme, and the Egg Walker marked the climax of one of Eggman's best moments and one of Tails' best moments.

Speaking of Egg Walkers, I like this one too. Yeah, it's no secret that I don't like how Eggman - the guy known for making all sorts of crazy crafts - is stuck in one tiny thing for a whole game's duration (even though I'm aware it's for gameplay's sake, but still), but on its own merits, the Walker itself is still cool in my book.

Putting them together because they're more or less the same mech. Nothing special here, I just think they're cool "modern" interpretations of the Death Egg Robot-style humanoid mech. And yes, I know Eggman technically didn't pilot the Egg Emperor in Heroes... but he did in Generations 3DS, so get it up yee.

Another one you knew was coming. Don't we all love the Egg Dragoon? So do Sonic Team, it seems. The Dragoon is one bad mothafucka, and the way Generations added to it by incoporating an Egg Viper tail and the Egg Wyvern's wings made it even more badass. Unleashed may not be one of my favourite games in the series, but I'm thankful that it gave me this winner right here.

These two don't really have much in common (aside from the colour blue), but I put them together because thanks for nothing, Tumblr image limits.

Anyway, I've always felt the Egg Wizard deserved more recognition. The design is interesting in itself and keeps to the nautical theming of Rush Adventure, but what REALLY makes it stand out is the way it uses the power of the Jeweled Scepter, and how we get to see some crazy magic that you don't often get from Eggman robots. Like giant dragon heads made of lava, for example. And the fight is plenty enjoyable too.

As for the Time Eater, it may not have gotten much if any story to its own nature, which is a shame, but at least we got a nice clockwork motif out of it, and the way it jitters gives the impression that it's trying desperately to fight back against Eggman's control, but can't. And speaking of, Eggman FINALLY controlling a monster successfully is worth celebrating... unless you forgot like Ian Flynn apparently did, since Worlds Collide claimed he lost control of it. Typical Flynnanigans, eh?

I'm absolutely in love with the idea of Eggman being crafty enough to store a second mech inside the first one in the event of the latter's defeat. It's the perfect way to cap off Eggman's consistent display of brilliance and foresight in Forces. The designs themselves are pretty sweet, with the first one taking cues from Alfred Molina Dr. Octopus, and the second one being an eerie mess of wires and tentacles, as if it were the "heart" of the first mech. And say what you want about the so-so execution of the fight itself, but the sound design that went into it is seriously overlooked.

Just a shame they're collectively known as just Death Egg Robot, seeing how they don't have anything in common with the actual Death Egg Robot. Neither of them are even fought aboard the Death Egg. They deserve a more unique name IMO, but ah well.

Other examples I really like but couldn't use images for because of Tumblr being Tumblr:

- The Final Zone/Egg Pistons from Sonic 1, cause even though it may be smaller scale than the Death Egg Robot, I like the unique scenario of the room itself being your opponent. The final bosses of Sonic 1 and 2 on Master System have a similar appeal.

- Brass Eggman from the 2013 Sonic 2, because weaponizing an organ of all things is perfect for a man of Eggman's pride and swagger.

- The Egg Totem from Advance 2. No special reason for this one, I just like the simple yet effective design.

- The Gachapandora from Mania, because it's a great way to pay tribute to some older Eggman contraptions, and it suits his manchild personality to a tee.

- The Phantom Egg from Mania (again), because even though it looks like a romper suit mixed with a Pokeball, I really dig the concept of Eggman using a suit of robo-armor to go mano a mano, which this boss comes close to doing, if not entirely.

- The Klepto Mobile from Mania (three time's the charm), because a literal rush job still being able to go toe-to-toe with Phantom King is both incredible and hilarious at the same time. Even Eggman's shittiest efforts are his best! Is there no limit to this man's brilliance???

- Metal Robotnik/Black Eggman/Brak Eggman/Bruh Eggman from the OVA and Sonic Robo Blast 2. I don't know what the doc was thinking when he decided to give a robot based on himself some dragon wings and a spiked mohawk, but I'm glad he went through with it. The final fight with Metal Sonic may be the one everyone talks about (understandably so, it's an awesome scene), but the battle with Bruh Eggman is great too.

- The Eggpod from the movie. As far as translating the doctor's style into live action goes, it's a worthy first attempt, and it's understandable that they didn't go for something bigger since they probably want to save that for the sequel, so as to organically raise the stakes (wink wink, nudge nudge). It also reminds me of the Egg Hornet from SA1. I don't know if that was intentional, but it's something I appreciate all the same.

[chris-evans-indian-fanfic]

Longing

Chapter 1

Description: Chris Evans becomes obsessed with you when he realises he can't have you. Eager to be with you in some form or the other, he starts writing fanfiction, where both of you are passionately in love with each other. But what happens when his imagination starts to merge with his reality in his subconsciousness?

Warnings: This entire mini-series will contain smut, bad language and angst. ONLY PROCEED IF YOU ARE 18+

This first chapter is inspired by the GIF below from @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18 's ShamelessHoesForChris writing challenge. Click here to know more

A/N: I do not know Chris Evans personally. This fic is a work of imagination and should only be used as such. It doesn't comment on Chris or anybody else personally. It is also not meant to destroy his reputation or paint him in a bad light. I admire the guy and he really seems like a genuinely nice person. Again, I repeat, THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION SO TREAT IT AS SUCH!

A/N 2: I did search quite a lot on the internet and didn't come across a fic like this. Which makes me nervous and also kind of excited that I get to do something unique? Please please give me your criticism and feedback on this! Would love to hear your thoughts.

A/N 3: I have used a few big words throughout the series because this fic is from Chris' POV and we all know that he's a bit of a wordsmith 😅 I had never even heard these words before in my life. So please let me know if I have used them in an incorrect manner. 

My Main Masterlist

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but Tumblr and AO3, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

…

The best thing about shooting Defending Jacob? Chris got to stay in his house in Boston. The worst part about working on the set? He was currently stuck in a room engulfed in hot, angry flames of fire. The fire had abruptly started due to a short circuit and spread across the set in the blink of an eye. Coughing, Chris doubled down on the floor, his breathing becoming more laboured with each second. 

The smoke stung his eyes as he looked around for a fire extinguisher. He tried calling for help, but only small grunts managed to escape his lips. Just as he was on the verge of losing consciousness, he heard a voice. Your voice.

"Is anyone here?" you called out, your voice faint in his ears. "Hello?" 

Chris tried to shout again, but only sank further towards the floor.

Luckily, you opened the door of his room and found his almost crumpled body on the ground. Using the fire extinguisher, you managed to douse as many flames as you could, while also covering Chris with a thick blanket. As the room was still filled with smoke, you pressed a wet towel on his face, asking him to breathe through his nose. 

Slowly, you managed to drag him out of the room and into the corridor, the fire reduced to embers in most places thanks to your fire extinguisher. Chris being a heavy man, you tried your best to support his weight as much as you could, your body almost stooping to form a right angle.

Just as you thought you might be in the clear, you heard a crack from above. Looking up, you realised that the ceiling was about to cave in and so, on impulse, you pushed Chris out of the way, as portions of the false ceiling fell on you, knocking you unconscious. 

Chris, in his state, vaguely realised what happened, before he lost his balance and fell to the ground a few feet away from you, his left arm stretched towards your limp body, as if reaching out.

Sirens of the firetruck and the ambulance filled the heavy air. A deep groan escaped his lips as he attempted to crawl towards you, a failed effort. Where did it all go so wrong? he thought. I was supposed to be the one to save you angel! You should be falling in love with me!! And break-up with your good for nothing fiancé! 

Overwhelmed with emotions, Chris started drifting off to sleep, your name leaving his lips in the form of a desperate whisper.

🔥

8 MONTHS AGO

Chris met you for the first time at the table read for Defending Jacob. You didn't strike him as anyone special. Being the Junior Assistant Scriptwriter for the series, you were just in the room as a formality. It was your job to jot down the minutes of the meeting, and have the parts of the script marked which were supposed to be changed slightly. 

You managed to stay invisible for more such meetings. An introvert by nature, you kept to yourself even when the shooting started. 

It was in the Week 4 of the shooting when Chris actually started to notice you. He realised you were always absent from his house parties, never stayed around on the set for after-work shenanigans and, you never hung out with any of your crew-mates for a drink.

What really drove his attention towards you were your random acts of kindness. He once saw you feeding a homeless man in the alley behind the set. Unknown to you, it was where Chris often hid from his cast and crew to smoke. 

Then there was the bit with setting up of a mobile blood donation camp on the set, which was completely your idea. He had also seen you distribute fliers for animal adoption centres and NGOs who fought for climate preservation.

You always made sure everyone on the set ate before you did, and the ones who couldn't due to work, you were sure to help them and share their load so they could have lunch.

But one particular incident made him see that you were no ordinary woman. 

It was a particularly tough day on the set. They were shooting the 35-second sex scene between him and Michelle. While these scenes looked easy on the screen, they always made Chris feel uneasy about himself. "What if my body is not upto the mark?" , "I don't want to hurt Michelle in any way" , "God I hope I don't touch her inappropriately by mistake" and more such troubling thoughts clawed at his mind. After the scene finally ended, he felt the lustful eyes of the crew feasting on him, admiring his body on display. 

He hurried towards his van, avoiding to look at anyone, until his eyes met yours for a total of 5 seconds. He expected to see the same smirk to be reflected in your eyes as everyone else's. Instead, he saw a completely different emotion. He saw sadness, sympathy, and most importantly, recognition of his discomfort etched on your face.

After that, Chris started to keep a close eye on you. You always wore comfortable clothes, with loads of pockets. Yet somehow, they always fit you well. He also noticed that you always got your own lunch, refusing to eat the food available on the set. 

A few days after filming the sex scene, he decided to try to speak with you. Palms sweaty, he headed towards you and gently said your name. 

"Hi," he said, and stopped. 

"Hello Mr Evans," you greeted him back, a little surprised that he knew your name. 

He continued to look at you, bright cerulean eyes bearing into yours, apparently lost. You blinked twice, unfazed, and a little uncomfortable, "Can I help you sir?"

Chris shook his head slightly. He was so used to women fawning all over him, that your utter lack of excitement on seeing him deterred him a bit. 

He cleared his throat, a little flustered, *Ahem yeah… I wanted to ask… something… karaoke!" he managed to mumble, "It's karaoke night at my house. Tomorrow. Will you come? At night?"

"Umm… No Mr Evans. I am sorry I will not be able to make it," you politely declined while taking a small step back.

"Oh. Uhh… well we can have it any other night if you want," he cleared his throat again, sweat starting to gather on his forehead as he noticed your movement, "You never visit any of my house-parties."

You smiled a bit, "I like to go home early. I want to spend as much time as I can with my fiancé and my cat."

Chris raised his eyebrows at that revelation, "Fiancé? I… I don't see a ring."

"That's because there isn't one," your smile widened as you pulled the chain around your neck and revealed a locket. It was an intricately carved sunflower locket, with small, delicate curls nestled inside the petals. 

Chris glanced at it with disdain. It looked hand-made, cheap, "Is that… is it made from clay?"

"Yes Mr Evans," you beamed at the locket, admiring it with love and pride, "My fiancé is a potter and he made this himself. It took him over 6 hours just to carve all the petals. But he still made it because he knows how much I love sunflowers."

"So he's too poor to give you an appropriate ring?" Chris snapped at you. 

Offended, you looked at him in shock and anger as he continued. "You deserve someone who can afford to give you an expensive engagement ring. Not some cheap craft project."

You grit your teeth at his comment, "Unlike some people, I don't look at the price of the gifts, I look at their value. While this," you held the locket in front of his eyes, "is worthless for you, it is priceless for me."

You placed the locket back inside your shirt and walked away. Chris stood rooted at the spot, biting his cheek hollow. He hadn't meant to drive you away. He had just wanted you to see him as a prospective partner. 

As he turned towards his trailer, an idea popped into his head.

🔥

Next Friday saw you and your fiancé walk into the bowling alley. The production house had organised a "Bring Your Partner to Work Day" and you both were excited to step out of your routine lives. 

A few people on the set recognised your fiancé Aiden from his YouTube channel. Kenneth, an Assistant Set Designer, drooled over him, "Maaahhnnn! I love your pottery videos! They are so calming dude. How do you make them so relaxing?"

The ever shy and soft-spoken Aiden gushed at the compliment, turning a shade of red which you always found adorable. Aiden was almost the same height as you, with a lean figure and a kind, freckled face. Your friends always told you that Aiden's looks were nothing to brag about, but you disagreed. Because for you, this man was the most handsomest, cutest and sexiest person in the world. 

And you knew he felt the same way about you. That's why, even after being together for almost 5 years now, you two still looked at each other with heart eyes.

As the party progressed, you made sure to avoid Chris, and so far, you were successful. That was until he softly said your name. 

With dread in your stomach, you and Aiden turned around to face the man. Aiden knew of your previous encounter with Chris, and tried to square his shoulders as much as possible, but Chris' towering physique and personality literally made it impossible for Aiden to appear tough.

You gave Chris a curt nod and received a sweet smile in response. 

"I believe I owe you an apology," he confessed, "I am sorry. My behavior that day was inexcusable." He paused for reaction, but looking at your hesitant faces, he continued, "It was quite a hectic day on the set and I guess I took it all out on you," he looked towards you, "You know I am capricious by nature. It takes me some time to become gregarious. But," he raised his hands in the air, "I repeat, the way I acted was inexcusable. I am sorry."

He extended his arm towards Aiden, "You are a porter I believe."

"Potter, sir," Aiden corrected while shaking his hand and introducing himself.

You bit your tongue, knowing that Chris was mocking you with his false apology. 

He invited Megan to join the conversation, "Megan loves handmade ceramics. Maybe she would be interested in your work."

Introductions were made again, and as the conversation pursued, it arrived at the topic of your marriage.

"Have you guys decided on a date yet?" asked Megan as Chris looked at you. 

"We are planning to get married as soon as the shooting ends for DJ," you smiled.

"Oh really? Wow that's… unusual," Megan tried her best to hide her surprise.

"We don't know exactly when will the shooting end," Chris said with a frown on his face.

"That's not an issue Mr Evans. We are actually planning to get married at the courthouse," revealed Aiden.

"You know if money is an issue then we would be more than happy to help you guys out," Chris offered in a sincere tone. 

"Oh no no Mr Evans. Money isn't an issue," you clarified, "We have decided to donate the money we had intended to spend on the wedding."

"But thank you so much for the generous offer, we really appreciate it," Aiden added with a sincere smile.

"You know a lot of couples are doing that nowadays. It's a trend I believe," Megan commented, "Where are you going to make the donation?"

"The local orphanage where I grew up. We both love kids and, it just seemed to be the perfect choice," Aiden beamed at you. 

You mirrored his expression while Chris scowled. "I think everybody should get the wedding of their dreams, and you" he stated, pointing towards you, "deserve much more than a courthouse wedding. Don't you want to get married in a beautiful church? Walk down the aisle in a gorgeous white gown? And get married to a man who can actually fulfill your wishes and desires?"

Squaring your shoulders, you looked at Chris dead in the eye, "I am marrying the man of my dreams Mr Evans. The wedding ceremony doesn't matter to me. What does matter is the beautiful life we will begin together. Now if you will excuse us," you linked your arm with Aiden's, "we need to leave."

Chris watched you leave as Megan tried to distract him with something else. Tonight did not go the way he had anticipated.

He left the party shortly after you, directly heading for his home. Standing under the cold shower, he tried to reason with himself. He was acting out of character. There was no reason for his behavior. You had made it ample clear that you loved your fiancé and that nobody in the world could sway you.

Then why was he so hell-bent on claiming you as his?

Because she's perfect for you, a voice answered him. 

Yeah, but she belongs to someone else, he argued.

So what?, the voice urged, Fight for her. You saw her wimp of a fiancé. You can break him into two pieces without breaking a sweat. She is made for you. Just you, and nobody else.

"I… Just… No," Chris stammered loudly as he shook his head, trying to get rid of the voice in his mind.

He tried to meditate, but it didn't work. Dodger too, was unable to distract him. Even his books on self-help and mental health were of no use.

As a last resort, he opened his laptop, but his fingers halted at the search bar, the cursor blinking back at him.

He was too tempted to search for you again. The last time he had Googled you, he had been satisfied with the results. You often volunteered with a few NGOs, coordinated multiple donation drives, visited orphanages and taught underprivileged children. His heart had melted at a particular photograph- you were holding an 8-month-old girl in your arms, while looking over a painting drawn by a 4-year-old boy as the child looked up at you with a toothy smile. 

It reminded him of everything he wanted to have, but still couldn't. 

He closed his eyes and started kneading his forehead with his palms. Everybody he knew always only had the best things about him. Right from Scarlett to Mark to Olivia to every fucking person he had ever worked with, everybody said he deserved to have a loving wife, a stable family. 

And yet, here he was, on a Friday night, home alone with a beer bottle, on the verge of anxiety. 

Was it just anxiety though?

Who the fuck is Aiden and why does he deserve to be with her? the voice in his head was back.

They love each other, they want to get married, Chris reasoned.

He doesn't hold a candle next to you, the voice persisted, People love money more than they love others. She will come to you. But you need to let her know you are available. You need to take her to-

"No," Chris interrupted the voice loudly, "No. This is unhealthy. No."

Reaching for his phone, he searched for his therapist's number, when the voice chuckled, You really think a shrink is going to help you with this? Eh? They are only going to ask you to fuck another pussy, or read more books. And I will be damned before you touch another book about trees. 

Chris shook his head again, but in vain. Unable to find the number in his contacts, he turned to Google for the second time that night and started searching for therapists in his area. The voice tut-ted, Yeah, as if the psycho doctor is going to shut their trap about Chris Evans crying over a girl.

Chris almost crushed his bottle in frustration. He couldn't let the voice take over. Not now. Not after working his ass off to get where wanted in his career. Taking a deep breath, he looked at the screen again and came across the headline- "Why Do People Write Fanfiction?" The word fanfiction seemed vaguely familiar to him. He was going to ignore the article and scroll downwards, but the brief underneath the headline made him stop- …mostly, people write fanfiction to stay in touch with the characters they love," says leading Psychologist Andrea Williams.

Intrigued, he opened the article and started reading. Then he opened another, and another and by the time he was done, he had read 6-7 articles on the concept of fanfiction and what it entailed.

Sighing, he opened a new word document. He was reluctant to type a letter, let alone a whole fictional story. He had tried everything and yet, you chose to occupy a rent-free space in his mind. 

Now all he needed was a reference.

He minimised the document, and opened a new tab on his browser. His hesitant fingers typed the words - Chris Evans Fanfiction - into the search bar, and he instantly winced.

Millions of search results were displayed before him, and as he read the descriptions of each one of them, he realised that 99% of these stories were porn. There was no sugar-coating it. On the 5th page of the search results, he luckily found a story sans the erotica. It was a cute one-shot about him going on a first date with the reader. He read it with squinted eyes, afraid that a sex scene might jump out of the blue, but luckily, nothing of the sort happened. 

Chris liked reading it. It was an innocent story filled with romance. 

But the only problem? It was written from the reader's point of view. He checked a few others, and realised they were all written from the women's perspective, not his.

He sat back in his chair, turning his head such that he was looking at the ceiling, contemplating his options. 

You want her, the voice whispered.

Reluctantly, he typed the first word that came to his mind. Your name. 

Chris rested his chin on his palm, wondering where to start. If this were fiction, would tonight have gone different? Would you have visited his house for karaoke that night? 

Tapping his fingers on the desk, he bit his tongue in thought. Thinking it was better to start at the beginning, he started typing from his POV-

The first time I saw her I thought she was pretty. I saw her during meetings and the shooting. Then one day I saw her giving food to a homeless man-

Deleting his words, Chris shook his head. This was insane! Right? You were a real human being and it was unethical of him to write this! He needed to learn to handle his feelings. 

If you don't have the balls to fight for her, then be with her in the stories you write. Grow a spine Evans, whispered the insulting voice.

Hesitating, he tried to write another paragraph, which ended up getting deleted. 

Try again, the voice coaxed him. Pour your heart into this. Write better. 

Taking a sip of the beer, Chris started typing again-

It was lunchtime when I saw her arranging some equipment on the table. Her back was facing me as I carefully approached her, afraid to startle her. I breathed in her scent, light, floral and fresh, before whispering her name.

She turned around, a bit surprised to see me, but she smiled nevertheless. Oh gosh her smile. I had seen her smile a few times on the set, but in person, it took my breath away. 

"Hi," I managed to greet her shyly. She matched my response.

"I was wondering if you would like to sing karaoke with me? There's a karaoke party tonight at my house if you would like to come," I asked her hopefully.

Her expression turned remorseful as she apologised, "I cannot come Mr Evans. My fiancé won't let me."

Imagine my surprise when I found out about her fiancé. "I didn't know about your fiancé. Why won't he let you come?" I asked her, concerned as she started sniffing a bit.

"He's… he's very strict Mr Evans. He doesn't like it when I go out with my fri-friends or co-workers," she shared between her light sobs.

My heart broke into pieces on hearing her confession. I had often noticed her taciturn behaviour on the set, but I had no idea about the reason behind it.

I raised my hands to cup her face. I was itching to wipe her tears with my lips, but instead, I used my thumbs. 

"I want to help you. Please let me," I requested.

"Nobody can help me Mr Evans. I am stuck with a monster." She pulled a chain from underneath her shirt and I got a glimpse at the marks on her neck. "Aiden gave me this chain and locket instead of an engagement ring. He said it will be better than a ring. And now he-" she started sobbing harder. I pulled her into my chest, running my right hand through her hair as my left hand soothed her back.

"And now he uses it as a leash," my angel whispered, horrified, "he says I do not deserve a ring."

I hugged her tighter and thankfully, she buried her face in my chest, "You are no longer stuck with him. Are you listening to me?" I bent my face to bring my lips near her ears, "I will make sure that you are free of him."

She shook her head, reluctantly pulling away from me, "No Mr Evans. I cannot-"

"Yes you can," I interrupted her. "You are going to come to my house for karaoke tonight. Message Aiden right now, and tell him that I will be dropping you home. Okay?"

After some coaxing, she agreed. I held her close as she typed out the message, her hands shaking around her mobile phone. Finally she clicked on the SEND button.

I brushed a kiss on her forehead, "Wait for me in the back alley after the shoot, okay? I will pick you up from there."

She nodded gratefully in response.

I couldn't wait for the shoot to be over that day. In my eagerness, I even messed up a few takes, mumbling over my lines like an idiot. But eventually, I got through the day. 

I was excited when I picked her up after the shoot. I could see she was nervous and maybe a little bit scared, but she still entered my car anyway. So I made small talk with her and tried to put her mind at ease.

Finally, when we reached my house, she was in awe. 

"This is the most beautiful house I have ever seen Mr Evans," she gasped as I led her inside, "I don't think I have ever seen anything like it before!"

I chuckled, "I am happy you like it. It… it just feels empty sometimes, you know? I find loneliness ubiquitous in this house."

You looked at her puzzled expression and smiled. "Ubi-what was that word Mr Evans?" 

"Ubiquitous," I replied, "it means something that is present and is found everywhere."

"Ahh okay," she nodded, "thank you for teaching me."

"I will accept your gratitude only on one condition."

She tilted her head ever so slightly, "And what would that be Mr Evans?"

I smiled as I slightly bent down and held her hand, "You need to start calling me Christopher."

Visibly flustered, my angel looked down at her feet. "I-I can't Mr Evans," she said in a low voice.

"Why can't you?"

"I respect you too much sir," she confessed.

"Hey," I gently nudged her forehead with mine, "I want you to say my name. Please?" 

I stared into her eyes as she met mine. God.

There was something about her eyes that was absolutely riveting. The depth of her eyes pulled me in towards her as I read the plethora of emotions hidden within them. Her gaze searched my face for malice, deceit, but only found love and trust in return.

I slowly cupped her face as her breath hitched in her chest. I could feel my own heart race. Bringing my face as close as I could to hers, I whispered, the distance between our lips fast closing, "Please."

She parted her lips ever so slightly. I felt her warm breath on mine as she obliged, "Christopher."

I closed my eyes as I heard the most melodious symphony, my name draped in her sweet voice.

I dipped my head to kiss her, feel the shape of her lips, but she stepped back.

"I-I am st-still engaged Chris-Christopher," she stammered.

I straightened myself, my hands no longer cupping her face, "I understand. I am sorry. Would you like-"

Before I could finish, a car honked outside. While I was curious at the intrusion, her eyes widened with fear. 

"That's him," she gasped, "Aiden is here. He found me."

"How is that possible?"

"He has a location app installed on my phone through which he tracks my location," she revealed, visibly shaking at the thought of greeting her fiancé.

"Stay here. You will be safe inside. Let me handle him," I said, squeezing her shoulders.

I walked out of the house and towards the car. The vehicle didn't look in good shape, it's owner even more so.

Aiden manually rolled down his window and spat on the ground. Fumes of cheep alcohol and stale cigarette smoke escaped through the window. "Where is she?" he hollered.

"That's not your concern anymore. She's breaking up with you," I crossed my arms and stood facing him. "If you know what's good for you, you will leave her alone and stay out of her life."

Aiden exited the car at that threat, the door of the vehicle rattled as he opened it. "She said that?" he scoffed, "Color me surprised, I thought the little mouse had no fight left in her. Bring her out here. I want to hear," he wriggled a finger at me, "whatever the fuck you are saying from her own fucking mouth."

"Not going to happen Aiden. You followed her here against her own wishes. Now scoot off before I call the cops," I warned.

"You think I will be scared of some Hollywood prick who shits diamonds?" he sneered. 

"No. But you should be scared of the law. You are currently harassing the owner of this private property, not to mention you have clearly abused your girlfriend mentally, emotionally and physically. So be sensible," I took a step towards him, "and fuck off."

"STOP," she shouted as she trusted towards us. She stood in front of me, as if to guard me from her monster of a fiancé, "Please don't hurt him. I will come with you. Just let him be," she pleaded with him as he smirked. 

Before he could react, I pulled her behind me, making sure my body was shielding her from Aiden.

"She's a gold-digging bitch. You stay away from her," he pointed at me as he tried to reach her. 

I pushed him away once and kept my hand on his weak, thin torso. Turning my head, I asked her for the last time, "Are you sure you want to go with him? I can save you. I will protect you, provide for you and keep you happy!" I urged her.

She looked at me with hope and helplessness. Slowly, she glanced at Aiden who looked like he was ready to commit murder. Sobbing uncontrollably, she removed the chain with the sunflower locket and threw it at his feet. 

"Leave me alone," she managed to mumble at him.

Furious, Aiden growled and tried to pounce at her. Fortunately, I intervened on time and punched his sorry excuse of a face into the ground. 

She gasped as Aiden fell with a thud. Embarrassed, he slowly got up and dusted himself, muttering under his breath as he sat inside his wreck of a car. 

"Don't bother coming back to gather your stuff! I am burning it all tonight you cock-sucking bitch!" and with that outburst, Aiden was finally gone.

She was sobbing and shaking uncontrollably at what had just transpired. I wrapped her in my arms to let her know she was safe. Within moments, I felt her ease into my body. 

I closed my eyes and smiled, my nose buried into her hair. My angel was safe. My angel was mine.

Chris blinked his eyes as he re-read his story. He already felt a whole lot lighter, his anxiety at ease, and mind exhausted. Clicking on SAVE, he finished the last of his beer and went to sleep, hoping that this was the end to his problems. Little did he know about the horrors that awaited him, behind the door he had just opened by writing that fictional story.

__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__

Permanent tag: @donutloverxo

Chris Evans and his characters taglist: @onetwo3000

This story: @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @carpediemm-18

(If you guys don't want to be tagged in this, just let me know. No hard feelings 😊)

Taglists are open! Just comment, send an ask or a message!