#but I’ve scrolled pretty far into the tag and there are only like 5 real posts

[helioptilie]

A friend bought me The Empyrean series to read, and I’m kinda disappointed that the fan base seems to be exclusively on BookTok

All that’s left is incorrect quotes and AI art :(

[xpeachesncream]

lowkey (jjk) | 02.

⦿ boo’d up in the daytime

⦿ mackin’ & hangin’ in the nighttime

↳ series masterlist

summary: in order to pass organic chemistry and pay off your car damages from an accident, all you have to do is help the nerd, jeon jungkook, with a few things: pretend to be his girlfriend and teach him the ways of dating.

pairing: popular!reader x nerd!jjk

genre: college au, fake dating au, friends (with benefits?) to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 3.2k

warnings: cussing, implied sexual content/mature language, kissy-kissy koo, mentions of a boner, mention of sex and cum, seokjin’s still toxic

note: posting this chapter a little early since it’s butter weekend, plus the last part of liquid courage should be up sat/sun. still sticking to my schedule in my faq though, srry loves! i’ll do my best to update as soon as i can. 💗

tags: @taegularities​ @jimidol​ @miinoongi​ @bluesharksandfish​ @ggukkieland​ @unicornbabylover​ @thebeebi​ @preciouschimine​ @ladyartemesia​ @moonchild1​ @jikookiekosmos​ @marcoazz2​ @kootaes​ @wearenot7withu​ @codeinebelle​ @bigbootyjoonie​ @thisartemisnevermisses​ @maichiverse​ @ppeachyttae​ @fairysunooo​ @secretlycrazyhummingbird​ @yukiehyukie​

"I heard you were in an accident last night, babe. Are you okay? I'm so sorry I got mad at you yesterday." Seokjin comes towards you, cupping your face to look at every inch, every detail. You move away from his hold, backing up to give yourself some space.

"Seokjin, I told you to stop calling me that. Jesus. I'm fine. Don't need you to check up on me."

"Are you really gonna keep that up? I said I was sorry."

"Okay, and? I heard you."

"Really, that's it? Y/N, why are you being like this? What's the real reason?" He follows after you as you make your way to the library. To say Seokjin was persistent is an understatement— he was persistent for the wrong reasons. Like, keeping you close so he had you to fall on when things went wrong with another chick, his safety net.

"Because this is done, I don't know how many times I have to tell you. I'm tired of you doing this so, please. Just go." You slightly turn towards him as you climb up the stairs.

"I wanna work this out with you. Don't push me away. Let me help." You don't respond. He watches as you adjust your bag strap and wave at Jungkook. Seokjin chuckles and grabs your wrist gently, making Jungkook suddenly hop on defense as he balls his fists. Like he could do shit. Seokjin would probably wreck his ass with those broad shoulders.

Still. He hated how much of an asshole he was to you.

"Wait, what the fuck?" Seokjin laughs his rare, deep laugh that he uses when he's caught off guard. "You're hanging out with nerds, now?"

"And if I was, that would be none of your business." You snatch your arm away while glaring at him. You shake your head and continue walking towards Jungkook, relieved Seokjin finally left you alone today. Probably off to tell Namjoon, Yoongi and his friends how much of a bitch you've been and that you actually left him to hang out with a nerd.

Sunmi knows you're being tutored. However if that wasn't the case, she would question you, but she never take their side on shit. She remained loyal to you, and always supported you through whatever. That's why she's remained your bestfriend until this day. The senior chicks Seokjin and them hung around with though? Questionable. As long as Sunmi was by your side and you by hers, you both didn't care much for getting close to them.

"Hey, sorry you had to see that." You say as you sigh and set your bag down alongside of you on the long table.

"It's alright." Jungkook replies softly. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. Thanks." You give him a tiny, tightlipped smile. "So, should we get right into tutoring, or should we talk about the details of our deal? I have all afternoon." Luckily, it was quite loud in the loud section of the library. No one cared much to listen in to your secret deal with Jungkook, nor did anyone care because it was Jungkook.

"I do too. I guess, whatever works for you?"

"Let's get this tutoring over with first then iron out the rest." He nods.

"Sure." He pulls out his notebook. "Tell me, what are you struggling with?"

"Everything." He does a small head tilt.

"I doubt that. I'm sure you understand some things."

"No, you don't understand Jungkook. I'm legit drowning. I don't know what I'm doing wrong or where I'm lacking." Jungkook simply looks at you, lips pressed together before he nods. You're not lacking anywhere, he thinks. You're really not. The subject is just shitty and the spawn of the devil.

"That's okay. Well, can I go over some basics? Throw in some tips?"

"Yes, please. Lead the way. I need you." You chuckled, but it makes the heat rush to his cheeks. He hopes you don't catch the rosy tint creeping up on them, so he instantly grabs at the whiteboard near your table and starts to go over the very beginning, the very basics of this semester's OChem class. Maybe a bit from last semester, but last semester wasn't entirely that bad compared to this one.

He didn't expect you to be all that engaged for some reason, but he should have known you'd ask questions left and right, taking the black whiteboard marker from his hand to practice what you've learned with him watching and guiding you from your side. You were always focused, always so determined. You were incredibly smart. Incredibly beautiful.

Honestly, Jungkook go on for days.

The both of you hadn't realized it was nearing close to 5PM and neither of you had really eaten much since lunch. You sit, feeling pretty good about your first session with Jungkook. You feel a little bad having kept him for so long over OChem, realizing you still had things to iron out with him.

[sunmi] 4:34pm: hey babe, not gonna be leaving for a bit. i forgot i had to work on this psych project with jennie. you okay with leaving around 6/7?

"Crap."

"What's the matter?" Jungkook glances at you as you continue to stare at your phone and scroll away.

"Sunmi isn't leaving until later. I'll probably be stuck here for a little longer after you leave." You put your phone down, now resting your chin against your palm, nails slightly digging into your cheek.

"I-I can give you a ride, if you'd like? Plus, we still need to talk.. about stuff." He shyly says.

"Jungkook, that's too much to ask for."

"It's really not a big deal. How far do you live from campus?"

"Maybe a 10 minute drive, the next exit off the freeway." He shrugs.

"I'm going in that direction too."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. We can just talk on the way home."

"Would you be willing to stop by for dinner? We can talk then. Maybe it can be considered our 'first date.'" You joke with a small giggle.

"Oh, sure. Yeah." He gives off a tiny, nervous laugh. "Where did you have in mind?"

"Can we get.. hm—" You hum. "Fire Wings? Down the street?" He almost feels intoxicated watching how your eyes gleam under the light, how they brighten and widen when you mention food. You were cute, and you didn't even know it.

"Only if you tell me what flavors you get." He tries to get smart, which makes you laugh. He made you laugh.

"Is this judgment day? Gonna see if you should call quits on our deal before it even starts?"

"Maybe." He goes along with it.

"Okay. Garlic Parmesan and Dragon." You pack up your things before shooting him a look.

"Okay, solid flavors." He nods. "I guess we can continue on."

"You're funny." You giggle as you both throw your bags onto your backs. You stay in your position until Jungkook comes to your side so you can walk by him. You don't know much about him, but he has a soft demeanor and he makes you feel comfortable. You had only seen him a couple of times across campus, not really noticing him much in class either. You feel a little bad knowing you didn't even try being that he sat behind you, but better late than never I guess? Maybe there was a reason for all of this happening. The way he tutored you today was insane, too— he was super smart, but broke it down perfectly, was patient. He was patient.

No wonder Dr. K loved his ass.

"What about you?" You picked up the conversation.

"I usually go for a dry rub and Garlic Parmesan."

"I haven't tried any dry rubs."

"You can try one of mine later."

"Okay." You suddenly remember to shoot Sunmi a text before she comes looking for you everywhere on campus. Jungkook stays silent beside you, allowing you to do your thing without being too overbearing or nosy.

But, he honestly can't help but glance a few times.

[y/n] 5:11pm: sorry just saw this, hitching a ride with my tutor. don't worry about me! ty ily, have fun working on your project.

[sunmi] 5:13pm: tutor, as in jeon jungkook?

[y/n] 5:15pm: yeah, he offered.

[sunmi] 5:16pm: okay, that was nice of him. if he tries anything tho i'll beat his ass. text me when u get home?

[y/n] 5:17pm: don't worry about him, he won't lol i will.

[sunmi] 5:18pm: kk love u b

"Sorry." You say, tucking your phone into your pocket. "Had to text Sunmi."

"That's okay. You two are really close, right?"

"Yeah, since high school."

"Cool." At this point, Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok are coming out of the café at the same you two are passing.

"What about you, where are your friends?"

"Um." He sighs, trying to avoid his friends obnoxiously waving and calling him from the distance. You glance over from behind his figure, chuckling a little bit. "That's them."

"Cute. You all are really close, too?"

"Ya, I've known Jimin the longest though." You smile and wave at them, causing them to gasp and whisper amongst each other with huge smiles on their faces.

"I'll need to meet them if we're gonna do this thing for real. Do they know?"

"Yeah kinda."

"That's okay. We should probably work on keeping it between us though." He nods.

"Okay, but. Can we save meeting them for later? They're a bit.. much." You smile.

"Sure."

"D-do I have to meet Sunmi?" You nod.

"If you wanna make this believable, yeah."

"She's kinda scary."

"Jungkook, she's not gonna bite your head off. She just has that look, but I promise she's sweet." That look, that resting bitch face. Really, you could be biased because it's Sunmi. She really only had issues if she felt disrespected. Other than that, she meant well. Same with you— you've been accused of being intimidating and having the same look but you don't mean any harm by it.

"Okay." Jungkook unlocks his black 2016 Honda Civic and pops his bag in the trunk. You do the same, while Jungkook goes to open the passenger door for you.

"Thanks." You smile sweetly at him. He climbs into his seat, hitting the button to start the car and sighs. The music in the background starts to play, and it sounds mellow, soothing— like it came straight out of a fairytale. His eyes widen as he rushes to lower the volume before shyly looking at you.

"Sorry."

"What, no. Don't be. What is this?"

"A Final Fantasy lofi mix." He begins to drive off as you turn the volume back up.

"It's nice. Pretty relaxing."

"Ya, it's nice to listen to after a long day." He pushes his glasses up at the light.

"Do you have family here?" He nods.

"I do. My mom and dad live about an hour away. I'm the only child. What about you?"

"Same. They're probably 30 minutes up north."

"Do you live alone?"

"Yeah, I live in a studio. It's actually my coworker's. She bought the space to rent it out. She lets me rent it for pretty cheap though."

"That's nice."

"You?"

"I live with Jimin. Our parents are close."

"What about your other friends?"

"Hoseok is dorming, and Taehyung would rather live back home with his family and commute. He's close to them. He'll crash at ours or Hoseok's from time to time."

"Are you close to your family?" He nods as he turns into the plaza lot.

"I suppose, yes. I'm just really quiet overall, so they think it's hard to read me sometimes." He parks and you watch as he shuts the car off with the same button. "You?"

"Yeah, I'm really close to my mom. Dad, a little questionable."

"Why, if I may ask?" He comes to open your door again, causing you to give him a small smile.

"He, um. Just got into some stuff." He watches as your body tenses while you fiddle with your fingers waiting in line.

"It's okay, don't think about it. I won't ask again."

"It's okay, Jungkook. Really. Maybe another time?" You look up at him and he nods. He stands way taller than you, almost at Seokjin's height, if not the same. He likes to wear baggy, dark clothing and doesn't do much to fix or style his hair.

He's simple, but in a good way.

You both order your food with Jungkook going first so he can grab a table afterwards. Before he could pay though, you offer to cover him for dinner as your way of thanking him for driving you home. You make your way over to the table he snags, Jungkook silently sitting at the high table with his legs pressed together and his hands clasped tightly on his lap.

"You okay?"

"Ya, why?"

"You look tense."

"Sorry. It's not everyday I have dinner with Y/N." You smile.

"Stop, relax." You watch as he slightly eases up. "So, this deal." He nods. "A month?"

"Yeah, I suppose."

"We have to convince people it's real or else people will know something weird is going on." You look at his hand, now resting on the table. "You're gonna have to hold my hand and kiss me, you know?" He swallows the lump in his throat. Shit, he thinks. Don't know if I can actually pull this off?

A kiss?! Fuck.

"Y-yeah."

"When was your last relationship, Jungkook?"

"8th grade." Your eyes widen.

"O-oh, now I see."

"What's that supposed to mean? It's terrible, I know but I—"

"No, no, no. You're good. It's totally okay, it doesn't matter. I'll just have to teach you to make it look realistic and not.. awkward." You perk up again. "Not saying that you are though, okay."

"I know."

"So, are you.."

"Am I..?" He cocks hid head to the side in confusion.

"Like.."

"Just ask Y/N."

"Are you a virgin?"

"I don't know." You furrow your brows.

"Huh?"

"Look, this is gonna sound really embarrassing and I don't know if I'm even ready to tell my fake girlfriend about it."

"Just say it. We have to know things about each other." He sighs.

"I— ugh." He groans. "I did it with my girlfriend at the time. Or I guess my ex because we had broken up and this was sometime during freshmen year in high school and she came onto me out of nowhere at a mutual friend's pool party. But it was weird because we were just hormonal kids and I was just curious so I slipped myself into her only to slip back out right after because—" He's rambling, but you're doing your best to keep up.

"Because?"

"I-I, ugh. Y/N." He shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Are you really gonna make me say it?"

"Jungkook." You lean a bit to try and catch eye contact.

"I came right away." He says just as the worker puts down your food and takes the number from your table.

"Ohhhhhhh." You say as you nod slowly. "Okay."

"You can just run now." His head hangs low as he slowly slides his chicken over in front of him, causing you to chuckle.

"I'm not going anywhere. It's okay. Stop that."

"It's pathetic."

"No. Besides, I know you'll get better overall, and you'll find someone who will rock with you till the end. We'll work on this."

"Thanks." He says, feeling comfortable around you. You were quick to reassure him and smile at him, he felt himself melting in his seat. Yeah, you were too good for Seokjin.

"You'll have to come to parties with me. Club events. Events in general. It won't look right if I'm always going without you."

"Okay. Can I bring my friends?"

"Sure." He nods. "What do you do in your free time?"

"Play video games and listen to music. Read comics, manga. Build lego sets with the guys."

"Cute." You smile.

"You?"

"Hang out with Sunmi, or just watch movies on my own at my place. Read. Eat by myself. Explore by myself. I value my alone time."

"It's nice." Jungkook's familiar with it. Even if he had his friends around, he truly liked being in his own peace when allowed. "What about outside of the public eye?"

"Hm?" You hum.

"Do we hang out?"

"Yeah we can." You nod.

"Cool." He smiles.

"Is my car gonna be a lot of work for you?"

"Don't worry about it, it'll be good soon. Just might take a bit cause I need some parts to make it look brand new again."

"I really can't thank you enough." He shrugs.

"Only trying to help my girlfriend out." He boldly says, causing you to laugh.

"Confidence is peeking through already, are you sure you need me?" You joke. The rest of the evening, you continue to talk to Jungkook about pretty surface level shit— what you like, dislike, overall experience in high school and college so far. It was a nice, harmless conversation, one where you were starting to see how warmhearted Jungkook really was. How real and laid back.

None of the shit in Seokjin's group. It was refreshing, a breath of fresh air.

Once dinner had finally finished, Jungkook was on his way to drop you off. He had parked in an empty guest spot, offering to walk you up just to be sure. At the door, he took a peek at how clean your studio was, mainly soft colors of white and cream taking over, with plants scattered around your living room area. The hallway in was sandwiched between your kitchen area and another wall, Jungkook assuming your bed was on the opposite side of it. He awkwardly stands at the door, afraid of overstepping.

"Well, goodnight Y/N. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Hey, wait." You smile and come close to him. He swallows, his mouth suddenly feeling dry when he feels your breasts press against his chest. "First lesson— give me a kiss."

"Right now?"

"Jeon Jungkook, we're doing this tomorrow. People are gonna have to see this at least once while we're together." He nods and presses a quick kiss against your cheek. "Not bad, but a little longer?" He complies and presses another kiss, leaving his pillowy lips against your cheek for a little longer before pulling away. "Perfect. Now here." You point at your lips before crossing your arms.

"Y/N, I—"

"Don't be afraid, just do it. I won't kick you in the balls or anything."

"It's not that. I just don't think I'm a great at this stuff."

"Okay." You tippytoe and gently grab his jaw while you lean towards his face. "Just relax, okay? Don't think too much of it." He stays silent, doe eyes constantly on you as you continue to inch forward.

Sparks. Just sparks everywhere for Jungkook.

He feels your soft lips against his and he relaxes, moreso because he feels like he's lost all senses being this close to you. Taking in your scent. Kissing you.

"There." He stands still, still trying to process the kiss. "Not bad. We'll get better over time, but at least that looks believable. Just—" You put his hands down as they were about to fall onto your hips during the kiss, but they fell short. "Let it happen and hold me, okay?" You smile. "Night Jungkook."

"N-night." He stutters as he watches you close the door. "Fuck." He whispers to himself when he realizes he's now sporting a boner. "Jungkook, what the fuck is this?!" He continues to whisper to himself as he waddles down your hallway.

[get-shiggy-with-it]

Ch. 2

Shigaraki Birthday Celebration! 18+ MINORS DNI

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x fem!reader 

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: reader is marked fem cause Tomura is a little sexist and hates you cause you’re a woman, no pronouns, incel!shiggy, collage au/no quirks, tomura is an asshole, gratuitous swearing, like so much, shiggy has a dirty mouth, mentions of shigs being anxious, brief male masturbation, tags will be added for smut in the next two parts

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6

Summary: In which studying is done, unwilling connections are made, and Tomura thinks about the way you smell a totally normal amount. 

AO3 mirror

Taglist: @dillybuggg​ (just shoot me an ask if you want to be tagged!

Tomura hadn’t stopped staring at his phone since he left the apartment. It was second nature by now—head down at a nearly ninety degree angle, hoodie pulled up to hide hair he hadn’t bothered to comb in weeks, and phone out, held just far enough away that he could see the pavement behind the screen. 

He’d found that people tended to naturally avoid him this way and he didn’t have to risk accidentally making eye contact. It was still a bit nerve wracking to venture into buildings he didn’t expressly have to for classes, so he was still hesitant to make the voyage from his apartment to the library.  But he’d made the mistake of mentioning plans to his roommate and the bastard wouldn’t leave him alone about it afterwards until he was practically shoved out with the door locked behind him. 

He was half tempted to make up some excuse last minute and go hide out at the only cafe on campus he could tolerate, but Tomura knew he was just delaying the inevitable. Biting the bullet now would help to not prolong his suffering. 

Your text thread glared up at him in stark white on blue as he pushed past a crowd of students by the library entrance and flashed his ID to the attendant. 

Group Project Bitch:

— hey I got us a room on the third floor, all the way in the back

—text me when you’re here I’ll wave you in, it’s kinda hard to find T-T

                                                                                                     sounds good— 

He shot off a quick text to you that he was hoping on the elevator. The other two guys in the lift may have given him a dirty look for only going up to the third floor, but Tomura sure as hell wasn’t going to risk the physical exertion of stares when just the thought being stuck in a small room alone with you for god knows how long already had him sweating. 

When he stepped out, you were leaned against one of the 90s-green shelves, scrolling aimlessly through your phone. He panicked momentarily, thinking he’d have to get your attention cause just walking up without saying anything would be weird right? 

He wasn’t sure. 

He didn’t do shit like this. 

Thankfully, you looked up at the chime of the lift and waved him over. His red sneakers squeaked as they scuffed the linoleum floors and he already regretted choosing his tighter fitting pair of sweats. The tapered legs that hugged his ankles and thin calves rubbed against his skin and stung the raw patches. 

“Hey, thanks for coming,” you said softly and he nodded, following as you began to weave through the stacks. “Sorry it was short notice, graduation’s coming up so I'm swamped with meetings.”

“It’s fine, I didn’t have anything going on.” 

He cringed internally at the way his voice cracked, trying to keep the usual rasp to a minimum. His roommate said it was from the innumerable hours he spent shouting at his monitor or on discord, which was probably true but to you he was sure he just sounded like a fucking teenager. 

“Cool, I’ve been set up for awhile so feel free to move some stuff,” you talked a bit louder now that you’d both stepped into the study room and shut the door. 

Tomura looked around. You’d snagged one of the nicer ones at least, with the big monitors he could cast his screen onto and those comfy chairs he liked but could never beat anyone too on the lower floors. 

You were right, there was shit all over the big table at the center of the room. Notes and printed out readings with highlights galore and sticky notes littering the pages were scattered all over. What a show off. You probably tossed all this stuff out so he’d think you were actually intelligent or some shit. 

Kicking a pile off of the nearest plush armchair, Tomura took a seat and pulled his laptop out. There was a jack in the middle of the table and you plugged yours in to cast onto the big monitor. 

You made a fucking power point for him. 

This couldn’t be real. 

“So I know I ran some stuff by you in class but essentially I was thinking we make like a simple Twine type thing using the rhetorical argument Swift is making…” 

You started rambling again and Tomura almost immediately tuned you out. His eyes drifted between the rough outline you were flicking through on the board and the laptop you had your nose buried in. 

It was covered in stickers, pretty obviously stereotypical for someone as obsessed with being ‘cool’ as you clearly were. But as he scanned through the various old meme phrases and aesthetic shit, he caught a couple of game references he recognized and a panel cutout from one of his favorite manga. 

He almost fell into your trap for a moment, feeling a rush at the prospect of someone—much less a chick—being into his main hyperfixations. 

But it was quickly crushed under everything his years trolling subreddits had taught him. People like you didn’t actually have interests beyond the attention and dick it got them. Plus that manga was pretty popular anyway, you probably didn’t even read it, just thought the line was funny or made you sound quirky. That had to be why you felt the need to drop it in your first texts. 

“What do you think?” you asked, making good on your new habit of startling the hell out of him. 

Tomura blinked, gaze instinctively turning to you but the blatant way you stared made his mouth turn to sand paper, so he looked resolutely back at the color-coded bullet points on the screen. 

“Look’s fine,” he mumbled. 

The more he glanced over it, the more it actually did look fine. A bit more than fine, really, which pissed him off even more. The little choose-your-own debate style story was not a terrible way to make fucking Whatever Swift interesting and it kinda looked like you’d bothered to google some simple coding which gave him a better idea of what you were looking for. 

It was...good. 

And that so fucking annoying. 

Well, he wasn’t sure if annoying was the right word for it, but the proposal coupled with your apparent lack of disgust at working with him made his face hot and that only ever happened otherwise when his roommate left the dishes out for weeks or when some newb on his server fucked up their raids. 

Then, you had the audacity to plop down in the chair next to him and— 

“You can tell me to fuck off if you want,” you began, shuffling in the chair to cross your legs on the cushion, “but I was hoping you’d be willing to show me how you do some of the coding stuff? I tried on my own, but I have literally no clue what I’m doing.” 

He could smell you again, like the whole fucking health and beauty aisle at the grocery store. When he turned his head a bit to look at you around the curtain of his hair, you were crooked—back against the armrest and facing him. 

“Why do you want to know?” he asked, sounding a bit less rude than he would have liked to. 

You just fucking stared right at him though, didn’t wrinkle your nose at how greasy his roots were or how he was wearing the same hoodies as yesterday. 

“I’ve always been interested in it, but my program is kinda stressful and I don’t have much free time so I never learned,” you offered and for once Tomura found he didn’t feel his skin crawl under your unwavering gaze. 

The dry, cracked area around his eyes burned though as sweat beaded on his forehead and he quickly wiped at his face with a loose sweatshirt sleeve. The garment hung off his shoulders, bought a size too big that he never ended up growing into. 

“What’s your major?” 

He found the words slipped easily from him. It was the quintessential question you asked of anyone in college when you met, but he’d never been interested in the answer before. 

You babbled a bit about your specific area of study and your voice was surprisingly not as infuriating as he remembered it being before. It was softer, he thought, than when you were soapboxing in class about the sexist implications of old as fuck poetry—it had a less grating quality and was almost pleasing to the ear. 

Or Tomura would have said that if he thought you deserved the compliment. 

But, obviously you didn’t. 

So he didn’t. 

He just pretended to care about what you were saying and didn’t hang onto every word at all. Actually he was more enraptured in the way your lips moved when you talked. You used your hands a lot too, but his eyes were ensnared on the way your mouth quirked and dipped, at the occasional flash of your tongue between strong teeth. When he leaned in a bit, he could smell your breath too: fruity gum and the remnants of whatever you were always drinking in that loud as fuck cup. He wondered now what exactly it was, so he could buy it and get a better idea of what you mouth might taste—

Nope. 

No, see this was exactly what he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about. How were you doing this to him? What a fucking slut. 

Tomura steeled his nerves as you started explaining the extracurriculars you did on the side. 

“My roommate freshman year actually started a gaming club and so I’ve gotten more into that over the years,” you explained, pointing at the stickers on your laptop case. 

“Are you talking about The League?” 

“Yeah, I didn’t know if you’d heard of it,” you shrugged.  

He knew of the gaming club on campus. He’d thought about joining when he enrolled but the allure of anonymity online gaming provided was too strong. Plus his discord server didn’t have annoying weekly meetings. 

The thought of you, up late and illuminated by the blue light of a tv screen, tucked away in one of the basement rooms in the media building was...strange. It also prompted an array of new images—you in those fucking cat ear headsets, seated in his lap as he trashed you in Mario Kart which was even stranger. 

Tomura had to physically shake his head to dislodge the thought. 

“Uh, we should probably work on this right?” he cringed at the way his voice cracked compared to your own, smooth tone. 

You should narrate those fucking sleepy time mediation things. His roommate used to hide wireless speakers in his room and blast those when Tomura stayed up too late. It was annoying as shit then, but if it was you talking, he probably wouldn’t have minded so much. 

Or no, no he would definitely mind. 

Yes. It would have been worse if anything. 

“Oh shit, you right. It’s been like two hours.” 

He glanced down at his laptop and saw that it had, indeed, been two hours since he got there. He’d willingly spoken to you for two goddamn hours. It felt like no time had passed at all, but the sun was definitely setting, the overhead fluorescent bulbs taking over as the main light source in the room. 

Weird. 

So you settled back in your chair, typing away like you always did, but the sound wasn’t nearly as frustrating as before. Occasionally, you’d glance over his shoulder and ask questions about what he was working on, but mostly the two of you settled into a comfortable silence. 

This pattern continued for the next few weeks. As the weather warmed, you began to show a bit more skin. He never worked up the nerve to comment on the thick expanse of bare thigh that tapered off nicely into your calf, or the curve of your arms not hidden behind knit sweaters—hell even your fucking shoulders were hard not to look at. 

Maybe all those high school dress codes weren’t actually so full of shit after all. Cause he was definitely distracted by the way your neck swooped into the exposed skin of your shoulder and down your back on more than one occasion.

Did all girls know that? Was it some kind of massive conspiracy to crumble the patriarchy or some crap to go flashing bare shoulders everywhere? 

Regardless if you really were trying to hypnotize him into liking you, Tomura stayed resolutely in his monochrome, long sleeved attire, and if you noticed the behavior you never said a word. 

Never said a word about his allergy ridden skin, peeling lips or scarred throat. Never commented on his terrible posture or said his eyes were creepy. Even when he’d occasionally toss a negative remark your way, you never retaliated maliciously. Just brushed him off with a jovial ‘don’t be a dick’ and a playful, but hard slap to his chest or the back of his head. 

The two of you always met in the same, secluded room on the third floor. You’d talk with him in class sometimes or shoot him texts about random bits of inspiration or a late night game memes, but for the most part, your conversations were confined to that room. He found he preferred the study room ‘you’ best. You weren’t as stiff. There was more of a solidity to you, like he’d seen when you told off that Kai bastard. 

It...grew on him. 

He was irrationally anxious that there would be a time when you couldn’t secure this particular room—with it’s big monitor and comfy chairs and less annoying ‘you’—but he’d been reassured after your third work session. 

Someone had knocked softly at the thick, wooden door and a head of wild, bright pink hair peaked around the crack. 

“Sup bro,” the intruder quipped, as they stepped fully into the room. 

“Hey, Spinner,” you mumbled back, looking up momentarily from the essay portion of your presentation before going back to typing. 

Spinner had seemed to notice him at that point and offered a small wave in his direction. “Oh hey, sorry, thought you were alone,” he said quickly. 

“Nah, this is Tomura,” you said, glancing up again and jerking your thumb in his direction. 

Tomura nodded and tugged at his hoodie strings to stop from scratching under the newcomer’s gaze. He’d gotten used to you, but other people still made him a bit nervous. 

“Nice to meet you,” Spinner had a nice smile, bright and flashy when he spoke. He leaned against the door and crossed his arms, looking around the room. “You got the nice one, huh. How’d you manage that?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” you half closed your laptop and stretched a bit. “Jin was working the front desk, so I’ve just been bribing him with vending machine snacks.” 

“He hasn’t gotten himself fired yet?” Spinner laughed incredulously, but not unkindly. 

“Surprisingly not, but he’s completely corrupt now,” you were picking at the cuticle of your thumb and Tomura fixated on the way the skin split off at the nail. Just like his. “A couple packs of chips and a Monster and I get the most bitchin study room whenever I want.” 

“Damn,” Spinner chuckled again and Tomura really wished that he’d leave already. He was beginning to feel himself fading into the upholstery as the conversation left him in the dust. The divergence of your attention away from him or the project was even more annoying that you were. “Well, are you coming to The League meeting tonight? We’re busting out a Smash tournament.” 

“That’s tonight?” you asked, eyes perking up but sliding subtly in Tomura’s direction. “Sorry, I think Tomura and I are gonna be working on this project for a while longer and I’m kinda burnt out. But next time, yeah?”

Spinner rolled his eyes but nodded and kicked off the wall. “That’s not very sexy of you,” he chided and waved a hand in parting. “Gonna work yourself directly into the fucking grave.” 

“Jokes on you, I welcome death.” 

You buried yourself in the screen again and Tomura actually felt a bit grateful for you ending the conversation before he got too painfully awkward. 

But Spinner stopped before he left, looking Tomura up and down from the frayed strings of his black hoodie to the tips of his worn red sneakers. 

“Nice to meet you, man,” he said with a wide grin. “Feel free to tag along next time if you want, we always need more players.” 

The door clicked softly shut behind him and Tomura relaxed back into the silence.

He did end up tagging along—though he spent most of the time hanging off your heels like a lost puppy—to the next meeting of your gaming club and the one after that. Frustratingly enough, he learned that your interests did also extend into skills as you almost bested him in a few rounds Smash. Your profile, lit only by the flashing screen lights, was even more striking outside of his imagined imitations. 

So much so that it found its way into his head late at night when he was too tired to log onto his server. So much so that it had his cock growing firm and tenting his grey sweats without even the visual aid of his go to porn clips. So much so that sometimes, he felt inclined to do something about the throbbing between his legs. So much so that he thought about the way you picked the skin by your fingers. How it looked like his. How your hand might feel like his but softer. Smoother around the edges. With your sweet voice whispering in his ear, making him whine and pant and spill white ropes of release onto his stomach. 

But it was only because you were hot. 

And you were practically begging for him to jack off to the thought of you with those outfits and liking all the shit he liked and noticing when he shrunk away from conversations or including him in them when he started to feel that awful sense of fading into the background. 

Yeah. 

Everybody jerks it sometimes to their group project partners if their ass is nice enough. 

Right?

[the-resurrection-3d]

(@maskwasii​ wanted me to post this despite, ironically, it all being shit I’ve told him before. Regardless.)

Something that I’ve been thinking about for awhile and might as well post while I’m waiting for the sleeping pills to kick in:

It really feels like the great irony of shipping drama is that it pushes out the people who would take this shit seriously. By “this” I mean darkfic topics like rape, incest, pedophilia, and so on. Because let’s be real with ourselves: regardless of your opinion on “dead dove” content, the majority of people who make that content don’t fucking care what you have to say. Nothing you can say is new to them, most of them are perfectly comfortable with remaking twice, thrice, even 5+ times after being mass-reported, and as far as ao3 goes, that site’s rules are intentionally designed to make removing someone else’s work as hard as possible.

A lot of people say they’re just against “romanticizing”/ “fetishizing” that type of content, which is fine on its surface, but there really isn’t any consistent metric for what “romanticizing” actually means outside of just pointing at shameless porn and going “don’t do that.” I remember once scrolling through an anti’s blog, seeing a typical post about how they’re only against romanticization, and then ~two posts down was a callout for someone for having edgy OCs. No context whatsoever into the actual story’s lore or how the author seems to want said OCs to be viewed-- the OCs themselves are bad people/have bad kinks, therefore this blogger must be shunned and publicly shamed. Again: hate stuff like rape/non-con kink all you want, but let’s imagine, for a moment, that Alberto had a genuine rape kink in “the grammar of violence” series instead of intrusive thoughts -- that type of presentation, where we’re meant to feel sorry for Alberto due to his urges (”””urges”””), is in a completely different universe from how I handle the same urges in Nick. 

When a work does not have an obvious sexual element, they stumble. The best example of this is how they’ll insist that murder can’t be romanticized, even though many books, shows, and films not only justify but aestheticize their protagonists' murders, fully intending for us as consumers to derive some amount of pleasure from watching the protagonists kill people (often in very drawn-out, spectacular ways).

It’s thus undeniable that many antis, knowingly or not, conflate “having X in your content” with “romanticizing X” -- take that one popular post that’s just a bunch of screenshots of the number of works tagged with “underage” on ao3 and decrying all of it as “child porn.” If you’ve ever earnestly written about csa trauma and tagged your fic with “underage” and/or “explicit” to try and keep your readers safe, no you didn’t, you’ve written CP. 

Why would anyone bother trying to write a serious story under these conditions? 

I know I joke a lot about how trying to put actual effort into your fanfics is a waste of time (except it’s not a joke because it’s true and I’m only here because I’m Asterion trapped in the labyrinth of my own autism), but seriously. Even showing support for these creators leaves many people feeling at risk, which removes pretty much the only thing fanfic is good for, aka that community element. 

I’ve mentioned this before here and there, but I’ve had multiple people come to me asking for help on their stories because they wanted to avoid “romanticizing” something fucked up, and every time, they have only a vague idea of what that would actually mean. I’m not trying to shit on them for this, because it’s not their fault, but these are the writers I’m talking about -- they have anxiety over the hypothetical backlash they could receive before the act of writing has even begun. 

Anxiety in art can be productive, such as when it motivates a creator to research experiences or cultures they don’t have firsthand experience with, but how can someone do that research when the guidelines don’t exist? “Don’t write porn.” Okay.... but I’ve seen fan-art of Luca doing stretches called “horny.” (Yet also somehow cartoon Beetlejuice calling a 13-year-old girl “babes” and getting jealous when she pays attention to other guys is just him “acting like an uncle.”) Furthermore, sometimes the only way to handle your trauma is to write through it, in all the gorey details. Sometimes that means writing a graphic rape scene, writing an unhappy ending, or writing “trauma porn” (keeping in mind, of course, that I’ve seen people’s fucking memoirs called trauma porn solely because they didn’t bend over backwards to make the reader feel comfortable).

Fandoms are just so fucking vile not only to survivors, but to people who want to earnestly and respectfully explore topics relevant to those survivors. The kinksters don’t care, as we’ve already established, and the people who don’t do any research or put in any thought at all will also continue just spewing their bullshit, because they lack the self-awareness to even realize that they’re doing so. I know a lot of dead dove creators are also survivors and are using their shit to cope, so don’t get me wrong, I don’t think their content is an issue in and of itself-- but again, let’s be real, most of them know that their content isn’t saying anything meaningful about trauma or the systems that enable it, nor are they trying to. The coping, that exploration, is within the process and not the product.

But some survivors need it to be in the product. Some survivors are unable to make art, or are not yet ready to make art about their trauma, but would benefit from consuming others’. So, while I don’t think having kinky dead dove art is an inherent issue, it's an issue when that type of content ends up dominating the creative marketplace, because as much as the creators themselves are soothed by it, a lot of other survivors are alienated. Both of these responses are valid. But I just think it’s a meme and half how, given everything I’ve seen, antis seem to be doing the most damage towards the kinds of content they always say they’ve made an exception for. 

[nikibogwater]

A Needlessly Intense Analysis of Hisirdoux Casperan

I’ve been religiously stalking the Tales of Arcadia tag since the day Wizards dropped, and I have not seen a single person utter so much as a pip of complaint in regards to Douxie as a character (and rightly so. The boy is a gift from the heavens sent to give us succor in these dark times AND IF YOU ARE MEAN TO HIM I WILL FIND YOU AND--). I’ve seen plenty of people who didn’t like the show in general, but interestingly enough, they all included something to the effect of “But Douxie was cool. I liked Douxie.” somewhere in their critiques. I’ve been running amuck in fandom culture for a long time now, and I don’t think I can impress upon you how utterly amazing it is for a character to be so completely and unanimously loved. 

This was originally going to be an outrageously long academic essay exploring the possible reasons why everybody loves Douxie so much (because I’m a sucker for intense character analysis), but after doing about one month of research and 2 hours worth of analyzing, I realized that the answer was pretty simple:

The biggest reason we love Douxie is because he loves. Unconditionally, and with his whole heart. Douxie takes a genuine, unselfish interest in the well-being of everyone he comes into contact with, not just the people he has established relationships with. Yes, we love his British flair, his brief moments of cockiness that somehow never come across as truly rude, his goth-esque character design, but those aren’t the parts of him that are universally appealing. I suspect that the reason we’re all so immensely fond of this magic lad simply boils down to the fact that he’s the kind of person who would be fond of us, immediately and without question, if he existed in the real world. That’s the short version of it. The long, slightly fangirly version was placed under the cut in order to avoid clogging your queue. Those of you with an uncanny interest in character analysis may keep reading, and the others may keep scrolling. I wish both kinds of people a very nice day. ❤

We get a really great first look at Douxie’s empathetic nature in Season 2, episode 8 of 3Below (”Luug’s Day Out”), and this is before he’s even been established as a main character. In this scene, Aja runs past him, very obviously in distress, calling for her lost “dog.” Douxie (who as far as we know has never actually met Aja) drops what he’s doing and investigates the situation. There’s no ulterior motive here, no established relationship in place that would motivate his concern for her, he just sees this distressed girl running down the street and immediately stops what he’s doing to check on her. He even looks genuinely apologetic when he tells her he’s on the clock and can’t leave the bookstore to help her look for Luug.

(image is cruddy because getting screenshots is a nightmare, but you get the idea). The fact that Douxie is genuinely concerned about Aja’s situation without even knowing her personally speaks to a deeply embedded sense of kindness that goes beyond your typical sense of duty, honor, or “it’s just the right thing to do.” 

Another great indicator of Douxie’s proclivity for unconditional love is the way he is uncommonly quick to show affection and emotional vulnerability. For example, look at his body language as he grabs Claire’s shoulders in episode 2 of Wizards (”History in the Making”) (again, cruddy image, I’m sorry, but it’s enough to serve my purpose here:)

He doesn’t have an intimate friendship with Claire yet at this point. Heck, they’ve barely been occupying the same space for more than an hour. But the moment he sees she’s in distress (and about to launch herself into trouble), he reaches out and gently takes her by the shoulder and the arm. Emphasis on the gently. Douxie isn’t only concerned with keeping her out of harm’s way (otherwise he would’ve just grabbed her by the arm). He wants to offer her real comfort. He’s placing himself between her and the source of her distress, making sure she can see his face (an indication of emotional openness), and speaking very calmly. (Fun fact, I am also a sucker for analyzing body language). And he does this constantly throughout the show. He reaches out to people, both emotionally and physically, regardless of how much or how little history they have between them. Because he wants to comfort and protect--not for any self-serving reasons, just for the sake of comforting and protecting. 

And don’t even get me started on how absolutely devastated he is when he discovers Jim is dying. Douxie doesn’t know Jim personally. Jim is just “The Trollhunter and the Best Tipper in Arcadia Oaks.” Beyond that, Douxie doesn’t have much of a relationship with Jim (I suspect that he did in the original draft, but Netflix is a filthy suppressor of artistic expression and only allowed for 10 episodes, so this is the canon we have to work with). And yet the news that going back to the future will result in Jim’s death visibly upsets him--and not in a distant “Oh no, this person is dying. That sucks” kind of way but in a “This person is dying. This person is dying. I have to find a way to fix this. I can’t let this happen” kind of way. Douxie’s near super-human sense of empathy is so incredibly endearing. We all know the frustration of wanting someone to understand and sympathize with our struggles, only to be met with confusion or indifference. The fact that Douxie cares so much so fast and is so ready to offer comfort and support is so amazingly appealing, it’s honestly a marvel that we don’t have even more Casperan Stans in the fandom than we already do.

So for those of you who sat through all of that, thank you for indulging me. And yes, it was originally going to be 5 times longer and very academic. But hopefully this is a good enough explanation for why my blog went completely off the rails and careening into nothing but various Love For Douxie posts. Would love for this to become something of a discussion (Maybe I’m completely wrong, and the reason you love Douxie all boils down to that dashing black hoodie and nothing else), but I’m aware that this is a very niche interest, and the fandom has been on the quiet side lately. Regardless, thank you again for listening to my blather, and remember to be kind and respectful out there. Make our boy Doux proud.

[s-creations]

In Sickness, In Health Chapter 5 - Broken Arm

Fandom: DuckTales 2017 / The Three Caballeros             Rating: General Audience             Relationships/Pairings:  José Carioca/Donald Duck/Panchito Pistoles     Additional Tags: getting sick, being cared for, mental health, injury, sore throat, common cold, chicken pox, broken bones, whooping cough, taking care of others.

Part of a Series Called: We’re the Three- Sorry, Six Caballeros!

Author’s Note: This chapter is self titled with what's about to happen. But please keep in mind this contains talk of broken bones. If I need to put further tags/warnings on this story, please let me know!

“Dewey, I’m serious, get down!” Huey frantically called.

 “Sorry, can’t hear you. Too high up and doing amazing!” Dewey called back as he reached for the next level of branches. 

 “Dewey!” 

 “Let it go dude,” Louie commented as he scrolled through his phone. Leaning up against the same tree that Dewey was currently climbing. “You’re not getting him down from there. Just let nature take its course.”

 While Huey glared at Louie, Dewey was continuing his trek up the tall tree. Humming his theme song (version 236) while he reached for another branch. His plan for the day was to reach the top of the tallest tree in the backyard so he could see across the bay. To hopefully see across it, maybe even see the entire world and what it had to offer. Maybe he could even find some place interesting enough to visit! Some place close!

 Ah, he was so eager! He couldn’t wait to find out what the rest of the world looked like. Entire body shaking with eagerness, Dewey moved a bit too quickly...

 He lost his footing first. Webbed foot slipped and Dewey quickly reached out to try and grab something for support. Only for his hand to grab at air. The branch just a bit too far out of reach. 

 It was as if time stood still for a moment. Dewey got a brief thought of ‘Huh...maybe this wasn’t the best idea.’ before he began to properly fall. It was strangely exhilarating to hear the wind rushing around him. Sort of like flying. Except the opposite. Because he was, in fact, falling. So this was worse.

 Dewey hit the ground hard, Huey shrieking while Louie let out a cry of ‘Holy Cow!’ as they rushed over. The triplet dressed in blue sat up slowly. Looking around, dazed, but otherwise felt fine. 

 “What were you thinking! You could have been killed!” Huey huffed. Fear being replaced by anger as he glared down at his brother.

 “I was thinking how cool it would be to see the view from the top of that tree. But I guess it wasn’t meant to be for the moment. Oh well, I’ll try again tomorrow-”

 Dewey let out a yelp of pain when he tried to put weight on his arm. Pain shooting through it, the duckling swearing he was about to pass out from it. Taking a deep breath to keep himself awake, Dewey looked down at said arm. Which was clearly broken. Sticking out at a weird angle, but nothing else seemed ‘wrong’.

 “I broke my arm.”

 “WHAT?”

 “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s broken. Check it.” Dewey casually commented holding up the mentioned limb. Louie looked close to vomiting while Huey turned very pale. 

 “Oh… Okay. Um, Louie, can you get Uncle Donald?” The youngest triplet nodded and dashed back towards the house, happy to not see the arm. Huey, on his part, bent down to examine the damage as best he could. “Ah...so… I don’t think I’m supposed to touch it. But it looks so bad!”

 “Dude, it doesn’t hurt. Just breathe and leave it alone.” Truth be told, Dewey wasn’t really sure why he wasn’t panicking. Maybe it was because everyone else was already freaking out. But, it was probably the fact that, since it didn’t hurt, Dewey wasn’t too worried.

 “Dewey!” 

 Ah, someone else to worry about him.

 “Hi Uncle Donald!” Dewey beamed while being faced with a panicked duck. 

 Donald looked prepared to start pulling out his feathers in panic. “Okay, okay, Dewey, how are you feeling?”

 “Pretty good, all things considered.”

 “Okay, can you walk? We need to get you to the car.” 

 “Sure...I’ll just need help getting up.”

 Dewey was more than patient as the rest of the family rushed around him. Helping him into the car, getting the seatbelt on, making sure he was okay before they set off. A quick trip to the emergency room later and Dewey now had a sweet cast and a story to share with his other two uncles. 

 “This is so cool! Benny had one of his arms in a cast too and he got people to sign it. Do you think I could do that too?” Dewey looked up at Donald, freehand knocking on the hardened plaster. 

 “Of course. You can start carrying some sharpies when you’re at school. Just as long as you don't make everything messy and you don’t distract the class.” Donald commented, finally relaxed now that everything was taken care of.

 At first, Dewey was honestly thrilled to have his cast. It was like getting a fancy new piece of armor in a video game. Wanting to constantly show it off. Happily retelling his adventure with so much gusto to whomever would hear him. It was great. 

 Until it wasn’t.

 The first issue was how uncomfortable the cast was becoming. It was heavy and clunky. He couldn’t sleep because the cast was just dead weight. His arm started becoming both itchy and sweaty. Hot and bothersome with no solution as to how it was supposed to be fixed. 

 The second issue was that there was no one else to tell the story to. All his classmates knew. All his neighbors knew. And, even if his uncles would listen to him, Dewey knew they were becoming bored by the story. The once great armor was now dragging him down. 

 The last issue was that he couldn’t do anything. Uncle Donald made it clear that Dewey wasn’t going to do anything with the cast on. Not that the duckling paid that warning too much attention. Until he realized that the cast was preventing Dewey from, quite literally, doing anything. He couldn’t grab anything. Couldn’t put pressure on it in any way. Hold anything. It was basically a useless arm. 

 “At least you have some time to work on your homework.” Huey offered weakly. Which was only met with an unamused glare. 

 Dewey was becoming so bored. 

 He was currently situated on the sofa during one afternoon. Eyes barely open, barely focused, as he ‘watched’ the television. Dewey wasn’t fully taken in what he was looking at. He was also pretty sure there was a string of drool sliding out from the side of his mouth.

 “Well, don’t you look charming.”

 Dewey merely rolled his head to the side to look over towards Donald. “Hello…”

 “Hello to you too.” The older duck walked over, claiming an empty seat next to the blue dressed triplet. “I see you’ve moved your pity party from the bedroom to the living room.”

 “Not pity.” Dewey weakly argued back.

 “No? Then what are you doing?”

 “Bored?”

 “Ah, I see. Nothing like being sad for yourself.”

 “There’s nothing I can to with my stupid arm is it’s stupid cast.” Dewey huffed weakly. 

 “You’ve done nothing but watch t.v. since you’ve gotten that cast. Why don’t you try doing something new?”

 “Broken arm, can’t do anything.”

 Donald rolled his eyes. “You’re not in a full body cast, you can still move. And your dominant hand is still ‘free’. I don’t mean trying to climb something new. Why not find a new hobby? Read a book, go take a walk, something.”

 “All sounds boring.”

 Letting out a slow breath, Donald took a new approach. “Well, I have something you might be interested in.”

 “Doubt it.” Even with a heavy sigh of boredom, Dewey still followed his uncle.

 They entered a small side room at the back of the house. One filled with mainly boxes and other unneeded odds and ends. They passed the stacked boxes, going towards the sole window. Where an artist easel had been set up. Paints and other tools cluttering a small rolling cart that had been pushed against the wall. 

 “What is this?” Dewey asked as he looked over the pile of paint tubes. 

 “My get away, if you will. When I want a break from everything, I come here and just paint. Just...put on some music and paint.”

 “I’ve never seen you paint before…”

 “Well, I did just start,” Donald commented, taking a seat in front of the easel. “I was told it would help me relax.”

 “So, are you telling me to start painting?” Dewey asked. 

 “Sort of.” Reaching into a large bag that was propped up against the wall as well, Donald pulled out two items. A small sketchbook and a mechanical pencil. “You have an active imagination. Why don’t you try giving your words some pictures?”

 Dewey was skeptical at first. When starting, it was frustrating. Nothing was looking right and it was maddening to try and figure out what something was supposed to look like. Seeing it in his head to transfer it onto paper was difficult. 

 Tio José swooped in to save the day. When Dewey crumpled up another failure. The parrot was more than happy to give his expertise on how to start off a drawing. Getting the basic shapes, proportions, how to look at the whole and the parts of an object, how drawing from real life can help draw from the imagination. After that, there was no stopping him.

 Even with the cast on, it didn’t stop him. If anything Dewey started using it as a weight to keep the loose paper still. The rest of the recovery melted away. The blue cladded duckling happily returned to school with a fully healed arm and a number of handcrafted books to share. 

[always-ascending]

Tagged by: @ewan-mcgregor  (dammit, you tagged some of my most often tag for these things people, so thank you again 😂) and @paulwalkerr . Thank you! Tagging: @henricavyll  @tennant  @carricfisher​  @mikaeled   @acecroft if you haven’t already done it, and with no obligations, as always.

1: Why did you choose your url? I was thinking about how bizarre this site actually is, in that everyone is so anonymous and we really know nothing about the bloggers, making assumptions based on images they post and reblog. It made me think of various statements from villains in films about how society judged them and/or made them what they are. The difference being, what people think of my scrollblr has no effect on my life in the real world.  2: Any side blogs? Uuughh, don’t make me go there... I’m only going to list the ones I created or was a co-founder of where I’m still regularly active, and not ones I inherited from friends who left or am just a member of: @sci-fi-gifs @classicfilmblr @televisiongifs @retrotvblr @fruitblr Some very old personal fandom sideblogs I occasionally still post to: @professorlupins @thenyoustoleme @fyeahkennethbranagh 3: How long have you been on tumblr? On and off since fall of 2008. There have been numerous hiatuses, some lasting years. 4: Do you have a queue tag? For my primary? Eh, sort of. I don’t consider being tagged obligatory - it just means I’ll check out your post. Mostly I queue close mutuals who tag me to groups and/or sideblogs that their post is great for, and not my primary. I took it down for years and it only recently went back up. My old account overwhelmed me, so we’ll see how it goes. So far, it’s not bad since most of the groups have their own tracked tags and this primary is pretty low key. Anyone reading this shouldn’t take this personally, since almost everyone on here uses it now, but I think it’s a stupid tumblr trend that a lot of people wield like some sort of popularity badge. I either like something or I don’t, and it doesn’t matter if it came off my tag or my dash. No one is ever going to click on that “tagged” tag. I find it insulting, like, do you really like my post, are you just wanting to make yourself look popular, is this a show of people who owe you, a note of posts you really don’t like and are separating them from your actual posts with this tag? I don’t get it.  5: Why did you start your blog in the first place? Some friends talked me into making an account on here, and I couldn’t figure out what the purpose of the site was. I scanned all of my vintage photos and film stills and when there were no more, was like, ok, I’m done! I didn’t realize tumblr would delete blogs for inactivity, so that blog is no more. 😂 6: Why did you choose your icon/pfp? I wanted to make something different and I love editing free use clipart and graphics. Cat woman is fun, and fit the URL. 7: Why did you choose your header? I don’t have a header. 8: What’s your post with the most notes? I don’t really pay attention anymore once something isn’t recent. I did notice not too long ago there are 3 old ones on sideblogs/my old account that are still floating around close in notes: Galavant abc, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, and a Harry Potter one. 9: How many mutuals do you have? Most of whom I follow are mutuals. 10: How many followers do you have? On this primary, very few. 11: How many people do you follow? 176 12: Have you ever made a shitposts? Not true shitposts. Sometimes I’ll make a humor set on something I don’t like, but also on things I do like. Viewers assumption on which it is. 13: How often do you use tumblr each day? I’m not on every day, but currently I check my messages and tag most days. 14: Did you ever have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won? Nah, no fights or arguments. I’ve come across a few people with their heads up their arses with some weird demands that I didn’t comply to and think, “I don’t want to deal with you, nutter URL whom I know nothing about.” Does that mean I won? 15: How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts? I don’t reblog them. 16: Do you like tag games? As long as they’re not incredibly stupid or fishing for personal information, yeah. It keeps things fun on here, and I think reminds us that there’s an actual person behind what is otherwise a nameless scroll of images. Sometimes it takes me a bit to do the ones where I have to make gifs. 17: Do you like ask games? Same as 16. 18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous? I don’t think about it. I follow people with common interests and a sense of humor. I could care less about blog popularity. 19: Do you have a crush on a mutual? All of my mutuals are awesome.

[kitkatopinions]

Accidentally deleted my Tyrian and Watts asks while I was trying to fix a mistake so... Sorry about that, everyone! Here they are! Tyrian and Watts for the RWBY character asks!

Let’s do Tyrian first, because I have less to say about him, I feel like.

My top three ships for the character

Tyrian/Watts. Dysfunctional villainous romance of the century, no one knows how they’ve managed to make it to their tenth anniversary without killing each other, including them. Tyrian/Salem is my second top ship for him. Major Bellatrix/Voldy vibes with this one, but I could see it. Tyrian/Hazel is my third ship for lack of options. Does this one make sense? No. But I can at least see Tyrian being super flirty and Hazel being endlessly tired, but never really stopping it. (Also I hate Hazel so much lol.)

My three least favorite ships for the character

Tyrian/Qrow sucks for me. Like... I kinda feel like two people fighting each other just gets shippers, which is fine and totally understandable. But for me, Tyrian poisoning Qrow and almost killing him and calling his beloved niece a bitch and then killing Clover is a big no from me, dog. On that note! Tyrian/Clover is also one big no from me, since Clover murdered him. And Tyrian/Ozpin is another really big no from me. Tyrian and his crazy Salem worship can stay five hundred and fifty feet away from my son.

My biggest criticism for the character

They went a little too much on the crazy in the fourth and fifth season and it made him feel annoying. Like, I don’t mind the Bellatrix vibes, but I do mind the movie version Bellatrix vibes, sometimes. It just got kinda annoying. I wish his crazy was always more on the dangerous side and less on the kooky side, but that’s just personal opinions.

My favorite thing about the character

The way people are so uncomfortable around him. Whenever Tyrian talks to Emerald or Mercury, he’s honestly freaky. Like both me and the characters are waiting for him to snap. That’s a great quality in a villain that we’re meant to hate or love to hate. He has a real presence and it’s enjoyable.

A headcanon I have about them

Tyrian doesn’t often try to act normal, but he can, and he’s got a great ‘respectable, cool guy’ act that’s actually a little reminiscent of Qrow or Clover. He’s even passed himself as a Huntsman here and there.

What I would change about them if I was making a re-write

More involvement in volumes 4 and 5, and I’d treat him a bit more seriously and make him a bit more dangerous. Maybe I’d have him wound a member of Team RNJR in his attack as well as poison Qrow (maybe give Jaune a reason to unlock his semblance in season 4 and in response to the pain of a member of his team. Also, his ‘Tyrian purple’ color should be more than just the color of his eyes. Like, how come so many RWBY characters season 4 and onward have such boring colors? I’d give Tyrian some strong purple and pink.

What I I think of their character allusion and what (if anything) I would change about it

Tyrian alludes to the animal fable ‘the Scorpion and the Frog,’ and that’s... really in name only, I think. A part of me wants to give them some kind of points for having Qrow work with him against Clover, only for Tyrian to kill Clover, which lines up with his ‘its just my nature’ scorpion stinging the frog so that they’ll both drown and die. But they didn’t mean for Qrow to really be wrong! They didn’t mean for the lesson to be ‘Qrow shouldn’t have trusted the poisonous villain’ it was ‘wowza does Qrow’s semblance hurt him. :( Too bad Clover got himself killed.’ Which makes the whole allusion kind of suck.

Now for Watts, the single best villain in my opinion.

My top three ships for the character

Tyrian/Watts. See above. This ship would be a dysfunctional mess, but it’d be a wild ride. Watts/Villain!Ironwood. I kind of hate this ship when it’s ‘fallen hero turned villain’ Ironwood. But if he actually had been written as a secret villain or obviously headed that way from the start, I can see him and Watts also being a dysfunctional mess of a wild ride ship, only with way more ‘evil power couple’ vibes than Tyrian and Watts would have. Also my favorite version of this features Watts having been the one to build Penny (maybe by stealing the plans from Pietro) and him and Ironwood raising a still bright and cheerful, still innocent and trusting, villain Penny who will attack to kill with a smile on her face and a ‘it was nice meeting you!’ And this is very weird and niche but Watts/Evil Stepsister (specifically the one with the sharp bangs and highlights.) Someone sent me an ask saying the Evil Stepmother and stepsisters should’ve been connected to Salem and gotten Cinder involved and I totally agree with this. I then started envisioning a world where the step sisters competed with Cinder and all three of them were raised in Salem’s circle. In this version of things, I could totally picture one of the step sisters having a romantic tension driven connection with Watts and the two of them subtly flirting sometimes (and bonding over their mutual hatred of Cinder.) I picked the sister with bangs for no real reason except that I like her look more.

My three least favorite ships for the character

Watts/Cinder. Watts thinks of her like a bratty little girl, and Cinder kills him. Watts/Lionheart. Kinda really hate this one because of how clearly Lionheart was terrified of him. Just a bit uncomfortable for me to see that in a relationship. Watts/Hero!Ironwood or Watts/HeroTurnedVillain/Ironwood. Sorry, but Ironwood in canon got such a bad, bad portrayal in season 8 and the end of season 7, and I just can’t help but blame Watts for quite a bit of it. I only like them as a ship if Ironwood is an antagonist from the start.

My biggest criticism for the character

They shouldn’t have killed him! He was one of Salem’s best followers and one of the best villains and it was such a big mistake to kill literally one of the only actual loyal followers. It threw off any character development for Cinder and it was a big mistake. I really wanted the Cinder / Watts / Neo team up to keep going! I’m so disappointed it got thrown away.

My favorite thing about the character

Watts is an entitled, petty bastard, and I think that’s so good for a villain that isn’t meant to be social commentary (because tbh, RWBY never should’ve tried to be social commentary.) Watts isn’t sympathetic, he’s an Atlas born and raised guy in a three piece suit, he’s posh, he’s upset because he wasn’t given exactly what he wanted. Most of the villains in RWBY are either victims of abuse, systemic oppression, or poverty, and that’s... Not fun in a show that’s never handled social commentary well and is about magical girls destroying Voldemort/Satan with the power of friendship (Ruby literally never says anything about Faunus rights iirc.) Watts is refreshing because he’s exactly the type of villain that you can expect in a show like what RWBY should’ve been, and he flourishes as that. Why would we be sympathetic to Watts when he’s just doing this all because he wasn’t picked first for his tech? Why would we feel soured towards conflicts with Watts and Team RWBY? He’s just a petty bastard being evil because he was snubbed. Why would we be frustrated that incredibly significant problems are being shoved to the side with Watts? He’s a fun villain, he’s not meant to be more, he’s not meant to make you emotionally invested only to then be gutted for it. You can hate to love him without it feeling bad. Maybe that’s why he’s just my favorite non-kid villain (other than Roman.)

A headcanon I have about them

Watts has been trying to build his own AI robot like Penny, in his spare time. He wanted it to be done in time to become a Maiden, but it wasn’t, and Salem gave that slot to Cinder and got after Watts for not contributing enough. He of course thought this was deeply unfair (especially after being made to contribute a lot to Cinder’s Beacon success without getting any credit for it.) And this just fueled his hatred of Cinder, his hatred of Pietro and Ironwood, and by extension, his hatred of Penny.

What I would change about them if I was making a re-write

I would keep him freaking alive and keep up the pair up he had going on with Cinder and Neo! But also I’d increase his relationships with Emerald, Mercury, Tyrian, Hazel... Just some more Salem’s Inner Circle moments to flesh out their characters. Other than that, I wouldn’t change much. He’s a pretty good character.

What I I think of their character allusion and what (if anything) I would change about it

Okay, I’ve talked about his character allusion in a very long post awhile ago, but I’m not scrolling down that far to tag it. To sum it up... I hate his allusion. XD I loved the Sherlock Holmes books and read most of them, and I didn’t realize he was supposed to allude to John Watson until I read someone else’s post saying so, and I started freaking out about how awful it was. Watts has so little in common with Watson, he’s essentially the anti-Watson. Which basically means he’s Sherlock Holmes, the opposite of Watson in almost every way, up to and including freaking faking his death which is one of the most iconic Sherlock Holmes thing ever. Watts is everything Sherlock Holmes is on his worst days, arrogant, callous, consumed with his projects, petty, smug, over the top - as well as being hyper intelligent and a genius who often just gets passed over. He has rivalries with his colleagues like Holmes did. And like I said, he faked his death, only to reveal himself to an old friend later on the cusp of carrying out a scheme. He’s evil Holmes! He has nothing to do with John Watson - caring, humble, down to earth, not brilliant like his friend but content to be ordinary and special because of his emotional depth and devoted heart, medical former doctor who spends quite a lot of time chronicling the successes of someone else because he’s content to live in the background. Don’t get me wrong, a ‘Watson’ character who is evil could work - Watson himself indulged in crime for the sake of Holmes sometimes in the original works and if he worshipped Salem or one of her followers and did everything for her while still being a more humble, more friendly, not brilliant person he could be good - but Watts is not that person. Even the gimmicks Watts is given are stupid and don’t make it obvious he’s Watson. Boy’s got a moustache and a revolver and they thought that’d be enough. Idk why they thought 'we’ll make him Watson’ when he’s clearly a Holmes! Also, he’s supposed to be ‘Watson if he’d met Moriarty instead of Holmes,’ and to that I say boo! Watson wouldn’t turn into a super genius just because he meets a different mastermind!

...That’s summing up my feelings, yeah. Because I have so many feelings about his warped, weird character allusion. If I was changing it, I’d just make him Holmes like I think he was clearly supposed to be.

[nikxation]

Fic Writer Interview

I was tagged by @endae <3 I throw this under a Read More since it's a little long.

How many works do you have on AO3?

23 (wow that's so much more than I had thought)

What’s your total word count on AO3

215,893 jesus fucking c-

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Marvel, Miraculous Ladybug, Gravity Falls, Danny Phantom, Star Wars So 5. 5 fandoms

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Top to Bottom: Premiere Night With a Large Popcorn and a Side of Eye-Rolling (Miraculous Ladybug), Tactility (Star Wars/Mandalorian), Tell Him (Gravity Falls), A Matter of Time (Gravity Falls), Catharsis (Gravity Falls).

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to. I think I've only ever not responded to a couple comments, and that's because they either 1) came from a non-registered user, so I knew they wouldn't see my response, or 2) it was just a "Kudos" comment or something along those lines that I appreciated but maybe didn't have the time or drive to respond to. But all comments are appreciated, and I do respond to the majority of them. I like engaging with my readers and letting them know I appreciate them sharing their thoughts about my work.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I mean I straight-up kill Stan in Their End, so that'd probably be up there for that reason. But I still think Tell Him had a certain level of foreboding to it that made it pretty angsty (and as popular as it apparently was).

Do you write crossovers? If so, what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever written?

I don't write crossovers, haven't really found a plot for one that's excited me yet.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I... don't think so... Not that I can think of right off the bat.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I have not, but I am... not as opposed to it as I used to be. I still don't think I ever will, but I blame my current affinity for pretty helmeted Star Wars men for the fact that I'm not vehemently opposed anymore. But again, not sure I ever would, but will clarify that if I ever wrote it, it would not be posted through this blog/account because this blog is non-explicit, I would make a side account for it.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yeah! DaraDjinn (don't know why Tumblr isn't letting me tag her) translated a couple of my GF fics to French a while back! Catharsis, Scars, and I Dreamt of Fire! Was super psyched when she asked me if she could do it!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have not.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I'm not very big on ships at the moment (aside from reader insert stuff, obviously, haha), but way back in the day, I really liked FrostIron (Loki x Tony Stark). It was one hell of a dynamic and really popular. Stucky (Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes) was a close second.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I'm not gonna say A Matter of Time, I'm not gonna say it and put those words out into the ether because I want to finish it I'm just trapped in Star Wars hell right now, but I'm also well aware of what happens when I latch onto a new hyperfixation, I can't maintain two of them, and I hate that because I really wanna finish AMoT and I know there are a lot of you out there that want me to finish it tooooooooo.

What are your writing strengths?

The two things people compliment me on all the time are the flow of my writing and my characterization. I personally love my writing flow, so I'm super glad when other people seem to like it too. When it comes to writing in-character, it's always a big fear of mine, but then I get comments of people gushing over how in-character things are, so that's reassuring and validating af.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I have one hell of a time with anything action-y (which is why... I don't write it a lot, haha). Fast-paced motion is really hard for me to nail down, especially when I like to hammer down details, so the necessity to get through things fast while still maintaining a clear picture of what's happening??? Difficult af.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I think it completely depends on the situation, both in the fic and in real life. With respect to the fic, if you're writing dialogue in another language, it better be 100% in-character and not awkward. Like, too often you see people dropping in other languages either to use as petnames or to have a "oh oops sorry I accidentally switched languages" which gets... very near that unrealistic trope and can sometimes even come across as fetishizing??? So, like, it better be in-character and within reason. Bear in mind that if you're writing in another language, you better have a translation readily accessible, probably in notes (which, is still annoying because either you have to scroll down to see what they said, or you have to just keep reading not knowing... which, if you're not supposed to know, then alright I guess, but if it's a full conversation that you're supposed to be in-the-know on, it's annoying). With respect to your real-life situation, if it's a language you are personally not fluent in, you better be finding someone who is to run things by them. You can really ostracize your readers and take them out of your story if they speak the language and you say something taboo or blatantly incorrect because you just used Google translate. So, have someone who knows the language double-check your stuff, make sure it all reads correctly. TL;DR: Be tasteful and smart if you really feel the need to do it. Remember you're putting more work on the readers, so it better be worth it. And make sure you have someone check your work if you're not fluent in the language.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Pokemon, back in like 3rd or 4th grade.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written?

I'm still proud of Catharsis, it was my first real delve into very introspective writing and flow, and it's a way of writing that I really enjoy slipping into every once in a while now. Also a lot of really nice descriptions and metaphors and motifs that I'm still very happy with to this day. More recently, I'm proud of Tactility, more for what it did for me rather than the fic itself. Well, I mean, I'm proud of the fic, it was my first delve into the Mando fandom and it got a lot of positive reception, it was exactly what I wanted it to be and came out exactly how I wanted it, especially in the short timeframe that I wrote it. But I'm just... very happy that I did it because writing reader inserts always felt very taboo for me. I've actually written a few before, all of them PG and very tame for different fandoms, but I've always just been... too nervous to post them? And this was the first one I actually felt comfortable posting and wanted to put out there, and it sort-of let me feel more comfortable with it and encouraged me to keep doing it, which I'm happy about because writing reader insert fics is so fun and I'm glad I feel comfortable enough to enjoy it openly now.

Uhhh I'll tag @bunniesofsteel @anistarrose @3hobbitsinatrenchcoat and anyone else who wants to do it, you can say I tagged you :)

[leviathanswingman]

love is a losing game, chapter 5: at the doctor’s office

Lucifer was sitting on an uncomfortable plastic chair in the waiting room of the doctor's office, clad in what could only be described as a mediocre attempt at a disguise. He had swapped his pristine waistcoat and dress shirt combination out for an oversized black hoodie he had borrowed from Beelzebub without asking beforehand. His face was partially covered with a face mask, more so to hide his identity than prevent his fellow demons from catching whatever seemed to be ailing him. After all, Lucifer was a well known face in the devildom. Landing on the front page of some overrated gossip magazine was the last thing he needed at the moment, especially since he had conveniently failed to mention his visit to the doctor's office to anyone who knew him. It would be quite bothersome if they found out from a not so well meaning third party, so the safest option was for him to remain in disguise Lucifer pulled the heavy hood a bit further down to his face as he took note of the other people in the waiting room. Of course, Lucifer had chosen the perfect time to have a scheduled doctor's appointment. The room was packed to the brim with sniffling demons of all ages. There was a little D running around, apparently trying to win the award for most annoying toddler to walk hell. Lucifer massaged the bridge of his nose and let out a deep breath of air. The stuffed waiting room felt suffocating and the overlapping scents of different strong perfumes, stale coffee and disinfectant  did nothing for the headache that had been pestering Lucifer ever since he'd returned home from the club with a drunk Asmodeus in tow. Lucifer started to shake his left leg up and down in what could be misinterpreted as a nervous tic, but was actually nothing more than proof of his current impatience. The demon sitting next to him tried multiple times to engage him in polite but nonsensical small talk as Lucifer scrolled through his DDD, trying to look as bored and unapproachable as possible. He was annoyed to see that his tactic did not work out whatsoever. The demon next to him was apparently hell-bent on making a new friend at the doctor's office. Lucifer crossed his arms in front of his chest and suppressed an annoyed groan. The close proximity to this other demon did nothing to soothe his terrible nausea. However, since the waiting room was packed already Lucifer had no choice but to remain in his seat and put up with it. Although in the beginning Lucifer did find a certain kind of interest in seeing the way people interacted with him, thinking he was regular demon, he had quickly found himself bothered by the lack of respect even faster. He just wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible and then be left alone. The universe however seemed to have different plans for him. Just as the ever so adamant demon pulled out their very own DDD to show Lucifer a picture of some brat he had taken in,the doctor's assistant peeked her head through the door, her pretty curls bouncing with the slightest of movements, and nodded towards Lucifer. To his luck, she had apparently remembered Lucifer's request to not be called by name to keep his identity a secret from the public eye. After all, Lucifer was not the most common of names in the devildom. Lucifer removed himself from the waiting room as quickly as possible before the demon that had been bothering him for the past half an hour could say one word more, or even worse, ask for his number. Without looking back even once Lucifer followed the secretary who was already leading him towards the doctor's examination room. „Terribly sorry for the long wait, but as you can see we're swamped right now. The practice down the street got closed because the doctor's wife found out her husband was cheating on her, so she ripped off his right hand. An eye for an eye, you know? A real tragedy though,“ she chattered on as Lucifer stepped into the empty examination room. „Not for him, but for the wife of course.“ „Most certainly,“ Lucifer answered stiffly, a bit taken aback by the situation, hoping the conversation was over now. He wasn't sure what sort of answer the assistant expected from him after this conversational bomb she had dropped ever so casually. She hovered in the doorway for another moment. „The doctor should be with you in a second, honey.“ She closed the door behind herself as she left in a pace far too comfortable considering the state of the practice. Lucifer stared at the door for a moment, perplexed. To have another demon address him so casually despite knowing damn well who he was. That woman certainly feared nothing and no one. Although normally Lucifer would feel offended, right now he found himself somewhat amused by this woman's strangely laid-back behaviour. He slipped back his hood, pulled down the face mask and sat down on the chair opposite the doctor's desk. Now finally by himself again, he took notice of how the nausea gradually subsided again until it had simmered down to nothing more than a dark, buzzing premonition in the back of his mind. A few minutes later the door opened with a soft clack and Lucifer made sure not to turn around until he heard it close again. The doctor, a tall demon with impressive horns and an almost weirdly symmetrical face, approached him with confident steps and shook his hand quickly after he had stood up. It was a good, strong handshake and Lucifer couldn't help but nod in approval. „Welcome, Lucifer,“ she greeted before walking around the table and dropping down onto the chair, motioning towards Lucifer to do the same. „So what brings you here? I see your brothers come here all the time, yet I don't think I've treated you more than three times ever since I started working here. Are you maybe a bit of an iatrophobe?“ Lucifer pushed his hair back before starting to speak. For some reason, today he found himself surrounded by infuriatingly talkative people. „I do not have Iatrophobia. I refuse to go to the doctor for something as simple as a cold. If I can cure it myself I will do so, which is why you see me less often than my brothers. I do not see any problems with that.“ The doctor simply watched Lucifer as he answered her question. „Interesting,“ she nodded. „So what can I help you with?“ Lucifer took a deep breath. Technically, he still had time to leave the doctor's office to deal with whatever this was by himself. He was Lucifer the Morning Star, he did not need anyone. Yet despite these strong feelings of aversion that were boiling inside of him, Lucifer knew that he needed to do  the correct thing right now. Lashing out out of a misplaced feeling of overwhelming arrogance was not the kind of behaviour that Lucifer could display proudly. So rather reluctantly, he forced himself to relax his shoulders and lean back. After all, knowing what exactly was wrong with him was already a step towards improvement. „Since Saturday morning I have been experiencing strange bursts of nausea. They seem to differ in intensity depending on the situation, but in the worst case I have had until now I ended up having to rest on the floor for a quarter-hour. I assume you understand that I cannot afford to have side effects like these. They are disruptive and unpleasant and keep me from doing my job to my best abilities.” The doctor nodded as she propped her chin up with one hand. „Any other symptoms?“ „Aside from headaches and migraines, no, but I have been getting these for ages so I am quite certain that they are in no way related to the nausea.“ „Alright. I will take your blood and run it through the system, so we should know more in a second.“ At the doctor's request Lucifer moved over to the surgery couch and rolled up the sleeve of his hoodie. He watched her closely as she disinfected her hands, put on gloves and gathered the appliances she needed to draw his blood. Lucifer stared at the needle as it was routinely pushed into the sensitive skin at the crook of his elbow, followed by dark red blood quickly filling up the vial of an empty syringe. When she was done the doctor pressed soft cotton against the little red puncture wound and suddenly yelled out loud. „Sweetheart!“ Lucifer refrained from rubbing his temples. „Next time I would prefer a warning, alright?“ he said rather pointedly. The door opened and as Lucifer's head snapped around to see who had entered, he recognized the assistant from before. „Yes, Miss Doctor?“ The doctor simply extended her arm and shook the vial of blood. The doctor's assistant seemed to understand her without any words and simply grabbed the vial before leaving the room again. „Got it!“ Lucifer turned back around to his doctor and noticed a small smile sneaking up on her face. „My wife,“ she explained before turning back around to her patient. „Let's get your physical over with while Preta gets the results of your blood work. Please remove your clothes.“ Lucifer did as he was asked to. As the doctor whose name tag read 'Naamah' in bold, black letters, carefully examined his body the room was filled with silence. Naamah turned to Lucifer's backside and suddenly halted for a short moment before finishing the exam. „You can put your clothes back on.“ Lucifer pulled his hoodie back over his head as the door opened once again and the doctor's assistant, Preta, hurried over to her wife, handing her several sheets of paper. „Thank you, darling.“ “You're welcome!” She left again and Lucifer watched the doctor closely as she flipped through page after page. While she scanned through the last sheet of paper however, her eyebrows furrowed bit by bit. „So?“ Lucifer asked almost impatiently. Naamah put down the papers and sat down on her chair again, then picked up the last sheet of paper one more time to reread it. „Alright. I think I see the problem here,“ she finally said. „I have one more question for you, just so we can rule out anything else.“ Lucifer crossed his arms in front of his chest. The faster he got all of this over with the better. „Have you had any significant romantic or sexual relations in the past week?“ The world seemed to stop for several seconds as Lucifer stared at the woman in front of him. He had expected any sort of uncomfortable question, but this... „I hardly see how this could be of importance to you,“ he answered harshly. There was no reason for a medical professional to ask him this specific question. Or rather, there simply shouldn't be a reason for his doctor to ask him a question ever so private in nature, not when his sole symptom was debilitating nausea. „Answer the question, please.“ He had already stepped over his own shadow and dragged himself to the doctor with his problems, so Lucifer accepted defeat and rubbed his temple with two fingers as he answered. „Yes, I have had sexual relations in the past week. You are inquiring about this because?“ Naamah folded her hands together and leaned slightly forward. „Multiple partners or a singular partner?“ „One person. Only one person.“ The doctor nodded her head as if Lucifer had just confirmed her suspicions. She lifted her head and looked at Lucifer directly. „I'm just going to give it to you straight. It's very rare to happen, but it seems that you have formed a bond without you nor your partner knowing.“ Lucifer simply stared at her for several moments. „What are you talking about?“ „It seems like the reason for your side effects is that you have become mates with your partner, but neither of you have been aware of it. Your body is showing withdrawal symptoms. Headaches, dizziness, nausea, poor concentration, heightened irritability. As I said, this doesn't happen often, but it's definitely not unheard of.“ The world stopped turning right then and there. This was what Lucifer had feared the most. Not only were his symptoms serious and acknowledged, they were undeniably tied to Diavolo. Although a part of him refused to even consider the possibility of what the doctor had just told him, an even bigger part inside of him knew she had to be right. He didn't want her to be right. This was the kind of truth that he happily refused to believe in because there was no way for him to accept it just like that. „You must be wrong.“ Naamah shook her head and pointed at Lucifer himself. „I understand that you can't believe me that easily, so please go over to the mirror and take off your shirt so you can see for yourself.“ Lucifer walked over to the mirror with almost robotic movements and took of his hoodie once again. „Turn around and look at your neck please.“ Lucifer did as he was told and upon raking his neck, he saw a truth he simply could not deny. Right there, on the nape of his neck, where days before had been a dark purple hickey, was now a pale, yet definitely noticeable sigil forming with delicate dark red strokes. Shocked, Lucifer slowly reached up and let shaking fingers run over the fresh sigil. He felt neither bumps nor edges, but instead noticed how his skin tickled in an almost coy fashion upon contact. This could not be his life. There was no way. Perhaps all of this was nothing more than an intricate lucid nightmare, it had to be. „Lucifer?“ His head snapped back to Naamah. For once, he found himself at a loss for words. How would he ever be able to explain this situation? Lucifer stared at his reflection and noted dark circles and tired eyes.   „Does he need to know?“ The doctor sighed as she returned to her chair. „Technically, no. I would strongly advise you to tell him though. The fact that you have developed withdrawal symptoms already tells me that were the one to accept the mark first. Your partner might not experience symptoms at all, but the sigil will appear on his skin as well.“ Without wanting to, his hand shot back up to the nape of his neck. There was no way he could just accept all of that. „You must be mistaken. I can tell you, there is no way i could have formed a bond in the span of one single night,“ Lucifer forced out and the doctor sighed. “It is impossible.” „I know this is hard to accept, but this does happen from time to time. Your symptoms will only become less intense if you go and clear things up with your partner. Until then I can prescribe you suppressants which will help with the nausea and the headaches, but keep in mind that they are not an eternal solution. You can safely take them for a month if you stretch it out, but not longer than that, do you understand me?“ Staring straight ahead for several seconds, Lucifer found his mind adrift, far away from the clean doctor's office his physical form was sitting in at the moment. The universe really seemed to have it out for him. How could he have been so foolish to just abandon his beliefs in the heat of the moment in exchange for what? A romantic night with Diavolo, Lord Diavolo, his superior and friend of decades upon decades? This was the universe's way of punishing him for daring to be arrogant enough to assume that his actions wouldn't have consequences. If anything, he should know better than any other demon walking in hell that every single one of your actions had consequences. With all of the many mistakes he had ever made, this one might have been the most stupid one. Because usually, Lucifer knew better. He had refused to look at Diavolo as anything more than his lord and his superior for so long exactly because he knew better. He knew for a fact that some things were too good to be true. Those kind of things were generally followed by great misfortune. And now, Lucifer had to deal with the repercussions, had to deal with the punishment for allowing himself to follow his emotions instead of relying on cold, brash logistics. „Lucifer?“ He snapped out of his train of thought and hurriedly put his hoodie back on. „Of course. What were you saying about suppressants before?“ Naamah narrowed her eyes, but did her job without mentioning anything else that could possibly push Lucifer's boundaries. After all, she was a doctor and her job was to make sure her patients were correctly informed and cared for. She simply had to trust that they would follow her words.

Twenty minutes later, Lucifer left the office, a freshly printed prescription sheet weighing heavily in the back pocket of his trousers. On his way back to the house of lamentation he picked up the suppressants and stared at them for a good minute. He hated the sight of them, hated what they were implying. The back of his neck tickled tauntingly as he threw the orange pill bottle back into the white plastic bag, applying much more force than needed before he continued his way back home. He could've taken the bus back to the house of lamentation, but somehow, Lucifer felt restless and unhinged. So instead of a 10 minute ride he took on 45 minutes of walking instead, hoping that it would give him enough time to  calm down, keep his face and portray the meticulous big brother again as if nothing of significance had happened. It turned out that in the end, taking a 45 minute walk hadn't helped much with the disarranged state of his mind. Lucifer entered the house of lamentation and let the doors slam shut behind him. On the way up to his room he passed no one but Mammon, who simply stared at him in a confused manner for several moments,but didn't utter any words to his big brother, which admittedly, was a good thing. Lucifer wasn't all too sure how he would have reacted if Mammon had dared to approach him. The doors to his room slammed shut behind him and Lucifer threw the white plastic bag onto his bed before going after it and pulling out the orange pill bottle. He popped it open and shook out one singular little pill, turning it around between his thumb and pointer before swallowing it dry. Lucifer let himself drop down onto his bed, not even bothering to switch Beel's sweater out with his usual waistcoat and dress shirt combination. He simply laid there and stared at the ceiling. He knew he should be coming up with a plan by now, thinking about all possible outcomes and most agreeable endings, but after having found out that he had formed a mating bond with Diavolo, in the middle of a one night stand of all things, Lucifer had to take a moment to breathe. He had to take a breather to simply come to terms with all of it. Just as he was about to get up again the ringing of his DDD filled the silence. Lucifer retrieved it from the hoodie's kangaroo pocket and stared at the screen in aggravated defeat. It was Lord Diavolo. He gathered himself and fixed his hair before accepting the call, letting his professional persona take over. He was Lucifer the Morning Star and he would be damned if he let something as simple as a misplaced mating bond destroy the life he had built up ever so diligently. Without any hesitation Lucifer picked up the call as he took note of the way his body filled with nausea in the span of mere seconds. „Diavolo. What can I assist you with?“

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4,  Chapter 6 , Chapter 7, Chapter 8,  Chapter 9, Chapter 10

[loveofafangirl]

20 Questions Tag Game

Thank you for tagging me @the-soot-sprite 💖

Rules: make a new post and share your answers.

1. Why did you choose your url?

Because I am a fangirl who loves a lot of things. I had many sideblogs and then made this as an everything blog... but I’ve since made more sideblogs. 🤦‍♀️ I need a time out.

2. Any sideblogs? If you do, name them and say why you have them.

I have way too many to possibly even try to explain. Just put me in Tumblr jail. I should probably be banned from ever making another one.

3. How long have you been on tumblr?

OMG so long... This blog is apparently 9 years old. WTF.  I did not know that. Now I’m questioning why I’m still here. I’ve been sucked in. Send help. My original main is over 11 years old...clearly I need help or time out.

4. Do you have a queue tag?

Nope. I’m too lazy for that. 

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

I love fandoms. I love creating and enjoying other people’s creations. My IRL friends do not so I found new friends with similar interests. I also love getting lost in the blackhole that is tumblr. 

6. Why did you choose your icon?

Dancing Zemo is my jam! It is one of my favorite commissions.

7. Why did you choose your header?

The Falcon Captain America & The Winter Soldier White Wolf is my favorite thing currently. As is my sweet Zemo. I’m absolutely in love with the cute cheeb images I commissioned from the talented @weetlebeetle so I had to make them my icon and header

8. What’s your post with the most notes?

Fanfiction: “I’ve Got You” Baron Zemo x Reader

Gifset: Good Omens/Ineffable Husbands “Heart Eyes Appreciation”

I also have a Pretty Little Liars rant that apparently has 1,500 notes, but I’m not linking that though LOL (It was right before I gave up on the show. Apparently I had some thoughts... well questions that tore the plot apart.)

9. How many mutuals do you have?

No idea at all

10. How many followers do you have?

On this one blog or all together? Because that’s too many blogs to figure out ha

11. How many people do you follow?

I honestly don’t know... I have more than one main and follow different fandoms/blogs on different accounts (again, just put me in Tumblr time out or send help)

12. Have you ever made a shitpost?

Not lately, but yes.

13. How often do you use tumblr each day?

Not as often as I used to just because real life, but far too much time. Mindless scrolling is a wonderful pastime.

14. Have you ever had a fight/argument with another blog? Who won?

No. That’s way too much work. No drama llama!

15. How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

Reblog what you want. But if you like something, reblog it. Likes don’t help content producers spread their work, only reblogs do. So if you enjoy something and want more of that content, then please support the creator by reblogging. It means the world. Plus who doesn’t want to enjoy new content?

16. Do you like tag games?

Yes, they are good distractions and help me avoid writing. Procrastination at its finest.

17. Do you like ask games?

I do, but I don’t typically get asks. 

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

It really depends on the fandom and that fandom’s size. So it’s an objective concept. And unfortunately there are some people that get too caught up on it and then you get the big blog vs little blog fights and just no. No drama! Everyone create and be happy.  ❤️ 

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

Not unless Zemo is a secret tumblr mutual 😉 

20. Tags?

Feel free to ignore if you are not interested

@animnerd, @charistory, @arizemo, @daniel-bruhhl

[hippychick006]

Misha’s cult follower’s entire argument is celebrities should be “using their platform” [for politics] and in this way, Misha is better because he is “doing more” than Jared.  I just… 

Anyway, time once again to look at some cold, hard, facts which I wouldn’t be doing if Misha’s stans would just leave Jared the fuck alone. Seriously, you can consider Misha to be God himself and I don’t give a single fuck, but trash Jared using lies on his social media and you get my attention. 

Putting this under a cut for those blessed amongst you that appear to be able to exist in a bubble of nirvana to just scroll on by.

Firstly, and most importantly, it’s not about “using your platform”, it’s about  ‘understanding your audience’ and using your platform effectively. To this end, let’s look at Twitter platform only as an example, because I’m lazy and have other things to do and it’s where I’ve seen most of the noise.

Misha:

Misha had not ever posted using BlackLivesMatter hashtag prior to George Floyd’s death (on 25th May).  

On 27th May, Misha retweeted a Huff Post news article and got 13.1k likes, 2.2k retweets and 317 comments. It did not use the BLM hashtag.   He added a comment “How many more black men must die in America before we do something?” (But didn’t offer any suggestions on what he was doing or what anyone else should do). Slacktivism at its finest.  His next immediate tweet was about Gish.

His next post about BLM was 28th May, which co-incidentally (or not depending on if you’ve been watching Collins closely), was the top trending day for the BLM hashtag.  This was the tweet:

Again, nothing of substance, other than using the hashtag, which was still trending, though the tweet did generate 31.4k likes, 8k retweets and 650 comments.

His next post was on 29th May, photo op with the kids about having hard conversations with them – you mean you weren’t teaching them about this stuff before Mish? Anyway, that post still didn’t have anything of substance but once again used the trending hashtag.

On May 30th, he tweeted about the Live event featuring POC activists. This event replaced a previously arranged Gish event which even Misha knows he’d have been trashed for if it had went ahead as planned. All 3: Misha, Jensen and Danneel posted exactly the same pre-organised message for the live event, instead of individualising it. I personally thought that was very tacky (sorry).  This tweet got 5.1k likes, 723 retweets and 120 comments. It was not tagged BlackLivesMatter which was already falling in the trending topics.  He retweeted a further 10+ tweets about the riots on that day.

On May 30th, Gish had their 1-day event, one item on the list was raising money for NAACP legal defence and education fund.

On 31st May, he tweeted about Gish raising $151k for NAACP legal defence and education fund as part of the Gish 1-day event.  He posted another few tweets about the live event the previous day and the riots.

On 1st June, he retweeted Obama’s thoughts.  Another 5 tweets about the riots

Anyway, I got bored as his entire twitter feed is US political, despite most of his fans being outside US.  Fast forward about a 100 or so like-minded posts (honestly, the depths I swim in to pull these together…) to… 26th June where Misha posted about the second live conversation, this tweet got 2.7k likes, 311 retweets and 56 comments.

 Jared:

Jared’s last post before his BLM post was 14th May.  Unlike Misha, his social media is primarily for his professional working life (as is the case with most celebrities who want to continue a career in acting, as opposed to Misha who appears to have accepted his career in television is all but over and is setting himself up to go back into politics).

Jared had not ever posted using BlackLivesMatter hashtag prior to George Floyd’s death.  

29th May was Jared’s first post.  He provided a link to a document containing further links on how to be a better ally. He stated clearly what his position was.  This tweet was liked by 43k people, 1.7k retweets and 269 comments.  On the same day, he retweeted a Randy Orton tweet making it clear that he stood with BLM (as opposed to ALM).

1st June he retweeted Obama’s post with a comment. This retweet got 23.7k likes, 3.2k retweets and 421 comments

19th June, he retweeted Obama’s post about June Nineteenth

21st June, he cross posted his Instagram post about Father’s Day using the hashtag Black Lives Matter.  He got 19.6k likes, 2.7k retweets and 638 comments.

 Jensen:

Jensen’s last post before his BLM post was 19th May and was about FBBC.  Again, unlike Misha, his social media is primarily for his professional working life and separate business interests.

Jensen had not ever posted using BlackLivesMatter hashtag prior to George Floyd’s death.  

Jensen posted on 30th May using the exact same wording as Misha and Danneel regarding the live event. This tweet got 10.3k likes, 1.2k retweets and 298 comments.  He did not use the BLM hashtag

On 1st June, he retweeted Jane Elliot video that got 18k likes, 3.5k retweets and 375 comments.  Also on 1st June, he tweeted a link to Ways to Help and used the BlackLivesMatter hashtag.  This got 18k likes, 4.5k retweets and 574 comments.

On June 26th, he linked to Misha’s post about the second live session and got 19.9k likes, 1.9k retweets and 321 comments.

 So, what is any of this telling us?

The data is telling us that Jared’s few tweets reached and resonated with far more people on his platform than either of Jensen’s or Misha’s did. The data is also telling me that Misha’s constant tweeting is diluting the message and switching people off, his last tweet on it was 2.7k likes, pretty much his die hard fanbase and are not achieving anything positive.  In fact, his platform are doing more harm than good at this point with how they’ve gone after allys.   Jared’s few tweets struck the right note for his particular audience. Any more and they’d be switching off in droves (not really an effective use of platform).

In addition, though it looks like Misha is being more proactive with arranging the live events, I’d personally question the success given less than 0.0033% of Jensen and Misha’s combined platforms tuned in to watch the last event live.  And those that did watch live, appeared to be more interested in getting ship content than in the actual message - so much so that Jensen had to make a video on IG telling them to look and listen.  

Gish does get credit for raising $150k in charity in 24 hours, but I wouldn’t put them on a higher pedestal for it, Doing charity doesn’t give a free pass to be an asshole (particularly one that misuses Pride).

Just stop with the lies and the trashing of a decent man in order to feel better about the guy you like. Particularly when there are real assholes that pretend masturbating to 11 year old girls ffs.  It’s senseless, go ahead and like Misha, but accept there’s a lot in fandom that don’t and some are going to blog about it in their own private spaces. Feel free to do the same with Jared but be more respectful and keep it away from his space. That’s all anyone is asking for. 

[the-13th-rose]

Why I'm "neutral" on the Great Shipping Debate

(LONG ASF and kinda disorganized because I wrote it at 2 am)

Do whatever you want with this post. Scroll past without reading, reblog it, get mad at me over it, unfollow, block, whatever. I don’t care. Just understand that I’m not required to entertain your counterpoints just as you’re not required to entertain mine.

I don't put myself on either side of the great shipping debate because I just don't think it matters as much as people on both sides think it does. And also because I've seen both sides take their respective arguments to absurd degrees. You've got "antis" claiming a relationship between a 30-year-old and a 40-year-old is pedophilia, and on the other hand, you've got "proshippers" acting like they're being oppressed when people talk about what makes them uncomfortable. There's reasonable people on both sides and good points on both sides but I'd never fully ally myself with either because of the nutcases that for the most part aren't disowned by the rest of their groups.

I honestly think writing callout posts and reporting people who create skeevy fictional content is like crying wolf, it takes resources, time, and energy away from the search for the people who produce and consume the Real Deal (which I will always believe is at least a thousand times worse to create or consume than any fictional imitation of it)

YET. People who create and/or consume fictional skeevy content should not be exempt from criticism. No one ever truly should be, that's how you get things like echo chambers and, I dunno, dictatorships. I don't think telling someone to kill themselves is acceptable behavior, but I have to wonder why people who enjoy content others find highly triggering are often so thin-skinned. You'd think they'd be able to handle more criticism than the average internet-user, and maybe at one point this was the case, but recently it seems like these people can't even handle the thought of someone being made uncomfortable by their work. I feel like if you're going to make that sort of thing, and make it your whole online personality, you ought to be willing to deal with the fallout. I am, as a writer who doesn't even dabble in most dark subject matter beyond the standard death and injury seen in vanilla content, prepared to deal with the potential fallout of people Not Liking That, so considering you're prepared to write things that will upset far more people, why aren't you?

Ultimately I hate internet conflict these days, so I don't engage in debate with these people and I don't bust into their inboxes to tell them they offended me, because frankly I don't think they care (and honestly I don't really think they HAVE to), and I'm never in the mood to deal with the argument that would almost definitely ensue. But I do find myself going "that's weird as hell bro" before blocking. Personally, I think if you want to tell these people they're weird, or speak about it on your own blog with no intent to actually reach them, you're not a terrible person. You're not a mean nasty "anti" for being uncomfortable in your own space. And frankly I don't think these people need protection in the same way that actual marginalized people do. Sorry, but being into loli girls doesn't make you a marginalized person. If you want to do that sort of thing, fine I guess, but don't act like the poor helpless victim when people feel uncomfortable around you.

People shouldn't be literally beaten to death for wearing ahegao hoodies in public, but there's absolutely nothing wrong with asking them to leave an event or space (or to change their clothes) if it's upsetting enough people. People shouldn't be told to kill themselves because they get off to 600-year-old anime girls who look 5, but there's nothing wrong with telling them to cut that shit out or leave your server. If you allow literally everyone into a space, eventually you'll be left with only the least pleasant, because they'll wind up driving everyone else away. Sometimes it's just better for everyone if certain people leave a space and create their own. And that goes for everything, not just skeevy fictional stuff.

That being said, the solution is never to outright ban certain topics, because that just results in things being posted without tags or warnings, which often makes things even worse than they would have been without a ban. (Just look at this website's laughably bad handling of an nsfw ban, for example. You've still got people posting nsfw content, just without tags or proper warnings now. Oh and bots. Lots and lots of bots posting links that will definitely give you a virus, steal your financial and/or account information, or both.) The fact is respectable content creators know to properly tag and warn their potential audiences, so banning content from being properly tagged just winds up getting rid of the respectable ones.

Long-winded stream-of-consciousness rant aside, these are my fundamental thoughts on the Great Shipping Debate. I am not going to pin this, I am not going to tag it so people on either side can find me and tell me why I'm wrong and also a horrible person for not Taking A Side. I'm just gonna put it out there and let it be. Liberal use of the block button is your greatest tool in comfort and safety. Use it without remorse. It's not like a report, anyway, all it does is prevent either of you from having to interact. And that's pretty cool in my book.

[clairecrive]

“Let’s stay home”| Quarantine AU

As promised here chapter 5. I’ve made it long to apologize about posting it late. Again, I’m sorry. However, I hope you enjoy it. As always if you have any ideas or things you’d like to see happen, let me know! Next chapter, someone will make a cameo, who do you think will be?

Tag list: @deaflikehawkeye, @mollybegger-blog, @of-love-and-of-the-sea, @br0ck-eddie, @fandom--0verdose, @evelynshelby, @shadow-of-wonder, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @sopxhiea, @fuseburner (let me know if you wanna be added)

If you lost a chapter: Masterpost

Chapter 5 - “Concert”

"Oh my god, yes, yes, yes!" Her loud scream of enthusiasm was heard throughout the house alarming its guests.

"What? What's going on?!" Tommy ran out of his room out of concern regarding her screech, thinking the worst.

"What the bloody hell is going on here?" Came Alfie's annoyed grunt as he got up from the chair he was sitting on with the help of his cane. Being cooped up in the house all day wasn't helping his sciatica at all.

But Emma didn't grace either of them with an answer. Instead, she simply jumped off her bed while calling her friend on Facetime, completely clueless of the worried men that were standing outside her room waiting to know what was going on.

Squirming on her feet, failing at staying still, Emma sported a huge smile on her face while she waited for her friend to connect. Half expecting to see Bane's face popping up on the screen, Alfie thought about leaving, not wanting to repeat the other day's situation but contrary to his expectation, a female face appeared on the screen. Adjusting his position against the door so that he was more comfortable, he now was genuinely curious. It was the first time that Emma talked with a female friend. He had even begun to think that she didn't have any.

"Jen, have you heard?" She excitedly asked her friend that seemed none the wiser.

"Emma, it's literally 8 am here. You're lucky I even answered you."

"Well then, I'm about to make your day ten times better. Check the message I've sent you on Telegram."

"Can't you just tell me?" Jen's tired voice complained

"That's not fun, I'm building the suspense." Emma firmly explained waiting for Jen to do as she said.

"What do you think is going on?" Tommy asked Alfie.

"I've no idea mate. No idea." Alfie simply said, scrolling his shoulders while not removing his eyes from Emma's form.

After a couple of seconds of silence, which saw Emma grinning like a fool and Tommy and Alfie simply standing there like some clueless bodyguards, Jen's squeal brought Emma's smile only to widen while Tommy and Alfie were startled, the former losing his balance while the latter lost his grip on his cane. What the hell...

"Thank all the gods in Olympus, they've blessed us!" Jen's face reappeared on the screen now mirroring Emma's expression.

"I'm so happy Jen, you've got no idea. I really thought they were just going to refund us."

"I told you, you had to be positive about this! You never listen to me, you pessimistic bitch." Jen sassed making Alfie's eyebrows shot up and Tommy's lips to pout.

"Can you, for the love of God, tell us what's going on?" Alfie's voice prevented Emma to respond, making her finally aware of their presence in her room.

"Oh, hello boys." She simply greeted him not understanding their worried stance. When they gave her an allusive look she finally explained with a big smile.

"Harry's concert got rescheduled."

"And that's what got ya screamin like a fucking banshee?" Alfie grumbled

"Other concerts have been simply cancelled and the tickets refunded. This way we still get to see him." Now fully facing them, she elaborated.

"Fucking hell." Alfie simply muttered under his breath leaving the room. She turned to Tommy but her confusion only grew.

"Next time I hear you screaming, you better be dying." He said before leaving as well.

As confused as ever, her face resembled the question mark which made Jen laugh.

"Ugh, men," Emma joked.

"While we're on the subject, how's the living together thing going?" Jen noisily asked wiggling her eyebrows making Emma know that she was here for the tea.

"It's going well actually. So far, at least. They've been surprisingly helpful so I'm not complaining."

"You're stuck with three handsome, mouth-watering men and that's all you're going to tell me?"

"I know they're attractive Jen but nothing is going to happen. We're friends."

"If I were you, I'd walk naked all the time and hide their clothes so that they'd also have to be naked all the time. You'll see how something will happen then." Jen shared her absurd plan topping it with a suggestive wink.

"You're missing Nik, eh?" Emma affirmed more than asked knowing very well that being away from her boyfriend was really taking its toll on Jennifer.

"You've no idea. This is going to be pretty tough, not going to lie. There's only so much we can do on video chat and of course, it's not like the real thing." Her friend complained, making it very clear why she was missing her boyfriend so much. If there was something that Jennifer wasn't, it's certainly being smooth. She's the kind of person that's very upfront about things, whatever they are.

"I can imagine." Was Emma's attempt at being sympathetic. Her relationship with sex was really different, however, she could understand Jen's problem. If she had a boyfriend whom she loved as much as Jen loved Nick, maybe she'd miss the connection that comes with sex too.

"I'm here, terribly horny and suffering for this quarantine and you're standing there surrounded by dicks and you won't take advantage of it!" Jennifer loudly complained, getting cruder and cruder and Emma couldn't help but scrunch her face in horror at her friend's choice of words.

"My god Jen, get a grip on yourself girl," Emma jokingly reprimanded her, " You should have come here when I invited you then."

"Unfortunately for me, I'm awfully loyal and Nick's dick is the only one that I want. But I know that you'd have been delighted by my presence, you don't have to pretend."

"Oh damn, you got me. My life is empty without you." Emma indulged her. It wasn't completely false, she did miss the girl a lot.

"I know, I know. Listen, babe, I've gotta go, Nick's calling me. I'll talk to you later and please, think about what I've told you, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, bye Jen." Emma willingly ignored her last statement and ended the call with a nostalgic smile.

Emma was fully aware of how unconventional most of her relationships were. She never really thought about them that way, it was always people's reaction to them that made her realize how strange to an outsider might look. But to be fair, however unorthodox her relationships may seem, they were all based on mutual respect and honesty. When people asked her if it was true that she and Tommy were just friends, Emma would always be puzzled by their astonishment. Yes, they had been together. So what? Some people work better as friends. And yes, Emma wasn't blind, Tommy was sexy af but while she could admit it without shame she would also be lying if she said that she thought of being with him. Been there, done that. It didn't work so she moved on. As did he, there was an understanding between them.

Alfie was a totally different thing.

They had started off as friends but both of them felt that there was more. That there could be more. And in fact, there was. They tried it out and it was working just fine until her job cut in and ruined everything. She had to leave. And neither of them were too sure of a long-distance relationship. Alfie respected her decision, he knew how important her job was for her, how ambitious she was. But breaking up was inevitable. And so they did.

However, since there really was mutual respect and affection between them, they kept in touch. Sure, it wasn't the same thing and both of them had had different partners in the meantime, but they always found their way back to each other.

So, when it came to them, friends was a reductive word but it was better than to explain their whole relationship to some stranger every time. They would better fit under the heading "it's complicated" but a global pandemic wasn't the right time to deal with this situation and finally label their relationship. Emma knew that that was why she was ignoring Alfie's jealous remarks and Jenn's proposal. Things were already difficult, neither of them needed them to be even more complicated.

Days went on like this then: Tommy and Alfie that would bicker from time to time, always because Alfie would provoke him in some way; Eddie would jump in and either fuel their discussion or would spend his time tormenting Emma. He was surprisingly helpful though. He would go out and go shopping for necessities claiming that it was impossible for him to get infected, he would help her clean up and take care of the house. As long as he lent a hand as he was doing, Emma wouldn't complain about him pestering her. Emma and Bane would still video call every other day to keep in touch but he was unexpectedly evasive when it came to his whereabouts.

Everything was going fine. Emma knew that she was one of those who had it good, that's why she couldn't find it in herself to complain about this whole situation. However, if she could speak freely, she'd have to admit that her mood was progressively getting worse. She tried to keep a routine to keep her busy but the truth was that she was finding it harder and harder to get out of bed and do things, with each passing day.

She still tried though. Because she had taken a commitment with the other guys and had chores to do, but also because of her job. And most importantly she didn't want anyone to know that she was feeling so blue. Emma was one of those people that prefer to deal with their problems by themselves and shy away from any kind of attention when they're going through something.

Up until this day, end of week two in lockdown, she had pulled it through. For whatever reason though, this day had hit her harder than any other. Maybe it was because of the article she was supposed to write. It was about self-love, how important it is and what are the different ways one could take care of themself quarantine edition. The topic wasn't weird perse, Emma wrote frequently about this kind of stuff, it was just that she felt like a scam writing it. How could she write about self-love and ways in which people could make themselves happy, especially in these difficult times, when she was the first one who was miserably failing in doing so?

Yes, it was definitely this the reason for her sulking.

She was lying on her bed facing the ceiling with her head dangling at the end of it trying to find a way around this article that she had to write. Caught up in her thoughts, she didn't realize that the door of her room was open and that anyone passing through could see.

"Em?" Tommy's voice anchored her to reality and made her eyes snap open. However, she remained in her weird position, not bothered to lift up nor to answering him.

"What are you doing?" He walked further into the room but didn't get too close to her.

"Thinking." Emma just mumbled, scooping a little further so that her head wasn't hanging anymore. Nodding, Tommy got close to her now, and lied down beside her but facing the other way.

The reason why Emma and Tommy had stayed friends after they had hooked up, was because before that night they had actually hung out a lot. Emma was writing a piece on the tournament he was taking part in, Sparta, and had heard about him and his brother. In order to actually write the article, Emma had to speak with both of them. She didn't expect to get along so well with both of them. Not that Tommy was that much of a talker when they first met. Only a few short answers here and there and the occasional joke. However, Emma knew a little of his backstory and had also the impression that there was more to him than met the eye. He was hurt. Emma had no doubt about that. And just like her, when he was hurt talking to people was the last thing she wanted.

After coming to that realisation, dealing with Tommy became easier. He gradually opened up to her, even if it was only a little, and they got along really well. In some way, they were alike. And once you've found a soul similar to yours you tend to keep it close.

With time Tommy had learnt to read Emma just like she did with him during their first time together and come to the understanding that when Emma closed off like this, she was hurting.

He didn't say anything. He just laid there, next to her. Held her hand letting her know that he was there for her but leaving her the time to open up if she wanted to that is.

"Right, what's goin on in here?" Alfie's voice startled them both but while Tommy rolled his eyes, a little annoyed by his interruption, Emma reluctantly smiled at his antics. Sometimes, she wondered why he was so amusing to her and then realized the warmth and comfort that he brought her along with his annoying ways.

Pushing her head so that she was looking at him upside down, she smiled when she saw him standing there with his hands on his hip like an angry lady.

"Could you please stop pouting and come here and cuddle with us?"

Everyone knew that Emma was an affectionate friend. But for her to be so outspoken about it and asking for affection? It was a red sign and Alfie recognized it. So stop pouting he did and made Tommy scoop so that he could lay on her other side, holding her hand.

Their sweet cuddling session would be short because Eddie would soon be coming back from the grocery store but they all enjoyed while it lasted. Sometimes, Emma realized, the best self-love tip was simply being surrounded by our loved ones.

[mytrashs-blog]

Movie Star

Pairing: BFF! Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: Angst, SO MUCH ANGST, swearing, Tom being an asshole, there’s a mention of an injury...

Summary: Tom is your best friend, but fame can change a lot of things.

Word Count: 2,609 (Probably the longest one piece I’ve done)

A/N: So! This is an entry for @unholyhaz and @spidey-waffles11 #marvellouswafflescelebration writing challenge. I am actually quite proud of this baby and how freaking painful it is. I was having a hard time with the prompt because I kept wanting to write it the same way it happened in the movie, so yeah, I’m very happy with this. Enjoy! (Please if you do like it, reblog it so it can be read by more and more people).

Part two

(This pic doesn’t belong to me, I took it off google, but I did edit it a little)

You never thought your friendship with Tom would end up like this. Ruined. Potentially forever, and the worst part is that you can’t even be mad about it. He’s been dreaming about becoming big in the movie industry since you were like 7 and dancing ballet at the studio everyday, so him getting big should be something to be happy about, right?

Only it isn’t. And not because he’s always busy and barely even texts back, not even because he never has time to hang out anymore, nor is it because he seems to always be in the other side of the world either filming another damn Marvel movie or any other movie, or promoting his work. No, all of those reasons were not enough to wreck your friendship. What finally did it was the fact that he became so full of himself that you couldn’t stand hearing him talking when you did get to see him. He’s kind of an asshole now.

So you snapped. You were out in a pub with him, Harrison, the twins and a couple of your friends, Tom was telling you about how unacceptable it was that his manager tried to get him, to spend a night in LA in a 4 star hotel instead of a 5 star or a damn Airbnb apartment, how he was tired of this neglecting behaviour from a person that eats from the 5% of his paycheck, and you lost it.

You may be bestfriends with this guy, but you definetely didn’t have the same economical status, and you have to work a normal job like everybody else, you don’t get 5 star hotels ever, for gods sake you don’t even get to travel that often, the only time you’ve been out of the country was when Tom took you to Atlanta to do some reshoots back when the first Spider-Man happened, so you made well sure to tell him he was behaving like a brat, posh and whiny rich kid. And he didn’t like it, so he called you a jealous uptight bitch that’s bitter because an ankle injury killed off her career, which was a low blow. So you stormed out of the place.

It was a pretty public scene and there were a few videos from different angles of nearby tables at the pub and a few pictures of both of you screaming at each other, and of you getting out of the place while fuming, and of Tom getting his car a driving off while visibly pissed. It’s been the story of the moment (at least in your life). All your social media was full of Tom’s fans calling you a fake friend, a bitch, a brat, whore, slut… some even sent death threats, which was a bit disturbing, but not surprising.

Of course Tom wasn’t helping at all either, he stopped following you, but didn’t block you so you could see him liking all the rude messages directed to you, and he was being very very vocal about the importance of having real friends and how loyalty is a very important thing and how he had to learn that the hard way very recently. So yeah, like a whiny rich boy.

You were scrolling down instagram, trying to focus on something else, but the notifications were still blowing with comments and tags on rude posts, so decided enough was enough and you started an Instagram Live, not even 1 minute in and you already had a handful of people watching and commenting snake emojis and very strong language words, but you ignored it as you started talking.

“Hello everyone, thanks for all the lovely wishes, I apreciate them a lot, you don’t wanna know. So, I’m here because, since I don’t go around doing interviews for a job, I have to find an outlet to let out my side of the story, because all stories have more than one side and one shouldn’t decide on a side unless you’ve heard all sides of it- the story, I mean.

Tom and I became best friends since day one of us meeting, that was 16 years ago, we were always inseparable and I always knew I had someone to rely on and he had someone to rely on in me. Pretty strong bond. I always knew he wanted to be an actor, the best actor he could be, and I always knew he would make it, because he’s always been so incredibly talented and dedicated and he was very determined, so when he finally got his big chance being casted as Spider-Man I was the first one to celebrate him. As his fame and recognition started growing, he started hanging out with a lot more celebrities and he started picking up on personality traits that aren’t that cool, but at the beggining it was so minimal that I’d just ignore it.

By the time he was filming Far from Home, I think, he was a full on movie star. Every place we’d go, a few cameras would follow and fans would show up, and he loved putting on a show for everyone, to the point where he’d ignore anyone that’s with him. But that’s no the worst part. I can forgive him for having an ego, we all have one, some are bigger than others and that’s cool, but what’s not cool is being condescending to the people who work with or for you. I dont’t believe in people from first or second class, for me everyone is equal and everyone’s work is just as dignified and worthy as anyone else’s, that’s why I finally lost my respect for Tom, because he started treating people that don’t have the same level of privilege as him like they’re less than him. That’s not the way we were raised, those are not the values that my best friend has and I know it’s all because of all the media attention he has.

You all give everything to him in a silver platter, so he now became a bratty movie star, another self centered celebrity that feels entitled. So congratulations. You have created a celebrity, but you have wrecked a human being inside. And I don’t feel like I deserved to be attacked this way for not wanting to put up with being belittled and treated like a peasant. Thanks.”

You finished the live and you broke crying, of course. It hurts to know that your best friend is no longer, that you’re never gonna have all those amazing midnight adventures. Like when you escaped from your houses at 15 to go to that crazy party all the school was attending but your mothers wouldn’t let you go. You remember how you got drunk after just one or two beers and ended up walking and giggling back home at 3am. You were in so much trouble the next day.

Or when he got casted as Peter Parker and you were so happy that you spent the whole night laying in his bed talking about all the hard work you both had done to make your dreams come true. That night he told you how he was proud of you for working so hard on your dancing career and how you were his favourite dancer ever. And you told him that you always knew he’d make it. You promised each other to always be there for the other.

He was the first to arrive to the hospital when you had the accident onstage that ended your career, he held you on those long nights when you’d cry and cry, he was there when you were angry at the world for not letting you have your dream. He helped through everything and never left your side until you were back on your feet and you had a new plan for your life.

He’s not here now though. He’s the one holding the gun on your back and you were the one that threw the first punch. You feel guilty. You ruined everything. You should’ve told him that he shouldn’t behave that way. Of all people, it should’ve been you holding his feet on the ground, and now it all went to shit because of you. It’s all your fault and maybe you do deserve the furious fans and the creepy reporters jumping on you every now and then, and maybe you deserve all those messages because maybe you were a fake friend.

You really don’t have the evergy to get out of bed for the days that followed. It could’ve been just two days, or a week, maybe even months for all you knew; but you stayed in bed, you would cry, eat and sleep and nothing more. Your phone was in some unknown place of your house, you hadn’t even attempted to find it and maybe it ran out of battery long ago, but who cares? definetely not you. You were walking around in your pajamas, looking for ice cream in your freezer or maybe some chocolate bars, or chips… or whatever came to view first, but you were interrupted by the ring of your doorbell and then a knock on your door, you thought about ignoring it, but then they knocked again so you brought yourself to the door and opened it.

You froze when you saw Tom on the other side of your door, looking probably just as destroyed as you do, red puffy eyes, messy hair, he was wearing sweatpants and an old shirt, an unusual look since now he’s always trying to look his absolute best. This guy in front of you resembled your best friend since childhood more than any of the high fashion versions of Tom, but it still ached in your heart that he was in this state in your front door unannounced.

“Tom… w-what are you doing h-here?”

“I uh… read a rumor and I needed to see it wasn’t true.”

“What?” You suddenly feel your blood boiling. The only reason he came was because of some rumor he read, he doesn’t regret anything, he doesn’t miss you, he just wants to see if some stupid rumor is true. You go to close the door in his face but he pushes the door.

“You wanna know what it was? Y/N listen to me, please!” You try to push harder, but he’s way stronger than you are so you give in and let him in, but the frown never leaves your face and you cross your arms over your chest.

“I’m listening.” You really don’t want to get your guard down, but the way Tom is looking at you right now makes it really hard. He looks at you the way one looks at a youth treasure you found after years of longing. The way you look at a flower that grows against all odds in the middle of a desserted field. And it’s making you feel very aware of him. You notice how the bags under his eyes are deeper than ever, his skin doesn’t look as flawless and polished as it did the last time you saw him, you can even see some spots around his forehead, you notice how he’s still unable to tame that eyebrow and how they also look a little unplucked, you can also see the tarce of a beard, the kind that tells you that maybe he didn’t shave this morning and even the day before that, and his hair is not only messier but it’s also longer. And it’s grounding to see him look so human, vulnerable and real right in front of you.

“There were some rumors going around that you might’ve… that you maybe… y-you had..”  For some reason he was unable to look you in the eye, and every time he tried to speak he’d take a small step closer to you. “That you maybe had… comitted… suicide…”

You froze where you stood, and maybe your jaw fell slack, and maybe you even stopped breathing, where the fuck did he read that? What the actual fuck are people saying? your blood started boiling with rage, not even at Tom anymore, but at the world, why does everyone suddenly feel entitled to say those terrible things and why? Because you haven’t been on social media in a long time? People seriously need to understand that other people exist outside the internet and the have lives outside social media.

“I seriously hate people. Well… here I am, alive and well, is that everything?” you ask as you raise a brow, expecting him to say something else, but he looks at you taken a back, he’s at a loss of words because he was expecting this to fix things.

“Umh… yeah?”

“Okay then, I’ll walk you to the door.” You say flatly and start making your way back to your front door.

“Y/N wait… I do need to say something else” He grabs you by the wrist and turns you around, you end up mere inches away from him, his hand still holding you. His gaze roams all over your face, he looks down at your lips while licking his, but then he looks up to your eyes. “I’m sorry. About everything. I was a dick, and maybe I am an idiot for realizing I don’t want to lose you until I read those terrible things and it hurt as hell to even imagine a world without you in it. I don’t want to live the rest of my life without your surprise texts when I’m away filming, or your weird gif replies, or our film nights and crazy getaways. You’re the best friend that I have. And I love you, Y/N. I really, really do, and I’m sorry it took me so long to admit that to you.” If this had happened a few months ago, you would have kissed him already. You loved him for such a long time, it almost hurt you, you had all those feelings for him stored inside you and at times it felt like they couldn’t fit anymore and you’d just explode, but that changed. You changed. And so did he.

“I accept your apology, Tom.” you took a long pause before speaking again, and you could see in Tom’s eyes that it was killing him to wait, every second feeling longer than the previous, until you spoke again. “But it’s gonna take a lot more than that to fix our friendship. I’m sorry I don’t share your feelings, but I received death threats over twitter, so many hate comments coming to me everyday… and you were liking them, encouraging people to keep attacking me! You expect me to just forget about that and act like it never happened? And you expect me to just throw myself at your arms and live happily ever after? It really doesn’t work like that, Tom. You have to go now.” He stayed looking at you for a moment, and you could see the heartbreak in his eyes, but your own heart was breaking aswell. Maybe you could fix this, but it would take more than this, and right now you could not see him in your apartment.

“Please leave Tom” Your voice was just a pleading whisper at this point, but Tom did let go of your wrist and you sighed when you felt the cold breeze hit the skin where his hand had been. He walked past you and opened the door, taking one last look at you as one single tear fell from your eyes. And the door closed.

---

Tagging a few people that might be interested so it doesn’t flop :)

@caeruleum-in-caritate-lupus, @softstarkk, @peterparkerbabyy, @dottirose, @legit-fandom-trash, @carostar2020, @appreciating-chase-brody, @mvmakki @madmadmilk @hollandrecs @starksparker @sunshinehollandd

[dayasbun]

Fame - Angus Cloud (6)

Summary- a luckily timed audition leads to you falling for your new and unexpected co-star.

Warnings- okay HI welcome to my first multi chapter series woah?! this is actually so exciting for me like wow especially since angus doesn’t have any fics yet im just really really excited- so warnings! smut for sure, bad words, lotsa fluff, angst- everything in one basically. here comes a ride and I hope you enjoy :)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 {reading now}

-

“Okay! So all we’re doing today is the makeout scene, sound good?”

You and Angus nodded, both sitting on the poster bed with cameras surrounding you.

“What did I do?” He muttered to you for the tenth time that afternoon, and just like the other nine times, you didn't respond. Just hours before, Z had properly informed you of Angus’s secret girlfriend, someone he clearly had a thing with-but made sure to tell you nothing of.

THAT MORNING...

“Z!” You rushed over to her, your eyes wide as Storm came up beside you two.

“You have to film in an hour don’t you?” Zendaya questioned, quickly pulling out her phone. You nodded giving Storm a quick smile.

“Yeah, and you already know what I have to film-”

“Mmmmm right, you gotta make out with Angus, trust me we know. Everybodys talking about it, they won’t let us on set to watch y’all though, we tried.”

“I can’t stand you two,” You laughed shaking your head “Anyway, you know why I’m here. What you find out about Angus? That you texted me about last night? And make it quick, I gotta go to hair and makeup in a bit.”

“I’m debating if we should tell you before or after you film your scenes…”

“You basically already told her Ms. Blabbermouth, so just tell her the full thing.” Storm said to Z with a shrug.

“I am not a blabbermouth! I think its just right that she knows!”

“Then tell me Daya, come on!”

“Okay, okay. So my social media is set up so that when someone is following me I can see who follows them that I also follow without even clicking on- this doesn’t make sense, anyway! This girl followed me and the only person following her that I also follow was Angus. I didn’t think much of it, shes public so I wanted to check out her pictures cuz I was bored. She doesn’t have that many followers, but this girl is hot. Like I’m not even gay and she’s fine as hell, that’s why I was going through her pictures because she was just so gorg-”

“She’s pretty, I get it, can we move on?”

“Oh- Sorry. So yeah, I’m scrolling and I get to this picture of her on some man’s lap right? You cant see his face or anything, and there’s no tag. This was posted last month by the way. So there’s no tag or caption, but guess who commented?!”

“Wild guess, Angus?”

“Exactly! And guess what he said?”

“I don’t have time or patience for guessing right now-”

“He commented- and I quote, ‘Baby I miss you, sit on my lap again’ with those nasty thirst trap emojis! So I’m like wait a minute! And I’m going through her pictures now for a whole other reason. I find out they been dating since 2017 and she has a million pictures with him on her page all booed up but get a load of this- she literally never tags him. She always tags this other guy named Steve.”

You let out a huff and crossed your arms. “That’s fucked up. Real fucked up.”

“Yeah, I kn-”

“But I am not going to let it affect me today. I have to make out with him either way for our scene, so being petty isn’t necessary. I’m going to go on that damn set, and I won’t say a single word to him unless it’s on the fucking script!”

NOW...

“And...action!”

Angus let out a long sigh before jumping into the scene for the seventh time. You could tell it was bothering him why you were suddenly giving him the cold shoulder due to it affecting his performance as being Fez. You wanted to feel bad, but who just decides it’s cute to lead practical double lives? You tried to move the topic out of your mind so you wouldn't feel completely livid again and focused on the scene in front of you.

“Don’t do that girl, you got me fucked up.”

“Don’t do what? This?” You bit your lip and moved closer to him.

“You just tryna get some today ain't you?”

“I've been trying to get some since when I came back last week, Fez. But I’m glad you finally decided to notice.”

“Lemme gives you some then, come ‘ere.”

You got onto his lap wrapping your legs around his waist, just like you had the night before. You looked into his eyes and you felt your heart melt, and at this point, you didn't know if you were in character or if this was just you.

But then you remembered you were most likely the side chick.

Your facial expression hardened a bit, not enough for the cameras to pick it up, but you knew Angus noticed. Before he could ask you what was wrong or what he did for the eleventh time and ruin the scene, you pressed your lips to his and kissed him deep.

“Fuck baby...” he groaned into your mouth, his hands working their way up and under your shirt to cup your breasts. Once his large hands reached them, he gave them a nice squeeze causing your breath to hitch as you bounced a little.

Yeah, sure you were mad at him right now...but you loved that shit.

You grinned a bit wrapping your arms around his neck and pushing him down onto the bed. “You want me Fez?” You moaned out in a breathy tone, pulling your shirt over your head.

“Fuck yeah I want you girl, take this shit off for me.”

As you slowly unclipped your bra, you specifically remembered that at this point in the script he was to say ‘Jess’, not girl. But of course, the one-time {yesterday} you wanted him to say girl he had to say Jes-

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by a sudden “Cut!” from the crew. Letting out a breath you got off of Angus’s lap and clipped your bra. “Good stuff guys, we need Daya and Hunter next so if you see ‘em remind them its time for their scenes in about thirty minutes.”

You nodded putting your shirt back on, and trying to rush off of the set before Angus could catch up to you- but you failed.

“Aye,” he said walking by you “What's good?”

You shrugged. “I don’t really know what's good.”

“Why you acting like this, all different and shit. It’s on god starting to weird me out, what's the dealio wit’ you?”

“Just fuck off.”

Angus raised a brow and stopped walking. Thinking you finally had gotten him to leave you alone, you slowly walked to your trailer but ran into Jacob on the way.

“Hey!” You said softly. You hadn't exchanged many words with him over the time you'd been filming, but every time you had, he had been sweet and polite. The run down with Jacob was that he was talented and cute...that's about all you knew.

The conversation between you and Jacob was brief but pure. He asked you some questions about filming and you told him about how much you loved his performance in the show. Soon enough he reached his trailer and you two parted ways, leaving you alone as you walked to yours.

You stayed more focused on your phone that your surroundings, leading to you not realizing that Angus wasn't far behind you. As soon as you stopped walking and leaned against the side of your trailer, you felt someone in front of you. Looking up from your phone your eyes widened, why the fuck was he still here?

“Angus what the fu-”

“So you think you can talk to me like that?”

Suddenly feeling shy, your voice and confidence lowered. “I was playing...”

“And you think you can just flirt with anybody and everybody?”

“What are you-”

“Imma tells you something, so imma need you to listen to me real clear.”

You swallowed and nodded, looking up at him.

“Ion think you know this yet so imma let you know.” He placed his thumb on your cheek. “You mine, got it? Not Jacobs, not anybody fucking elses, mine.”

You almost couldn't believe the words you were hearin-

“Uh, Y/N, you good?” Jacob asked you. Quickly snapping out of it you nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine thanks.” What a hell of an imagination you had. You took a quick glance behind you and saw no one at all. Letting out a sigh you said goodbye to Jacob and walked into your trailer. As soon as you closed the door you heard a ding that was specially set for your male costar.

Angus☁️: come to my trailer. now.

and why should i do that?

Angus☁️: now Y/N im not fuckin around

im busy

Angus☁️: busy my fucking ass im fr

alr but don't expect me to stay.

Angus☁️ read at 1:34 PM

And even though you didn't quite know what was up yet, just from the texts you could tell that Angus was not happy.

-

taglist:

@nikkixostan @melaninmarvel @celiajrs @siriuslycollins @patientplum @babygurlbarnes