#but i got really motivated to make this first

[dollfacefantasy]

clark kent x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, car sex, mating press a/n: ummm yeah i need him so bad it makes me ill <3

for as long as you'd known clark, you'd never known him to lose his temper. he was forever-patient, your boyfriend. understanding to almost a frustrating degree. especially with you, his little love.

he was already pretty easy to get along with, but on the rare occasion you did have issues, clark seemed to have a natural instinct for deescalating you. he never raised his voice, never spoke an unkind word about you, never gave you a look harsher than what could be described as stern.

all it took to calm you down was a glimpse of his natural puppy-dog eyes and pretty plush lips. his thick arms would circle around you and hold you to his chest. he'd sway back and forth with you a little, a small smile on his face as you melted into the embrace. whatever semblance of tension or irritation that had been bubbling up easily dissolved into a puddle between the two of your bodies.

so, all that to say, you didn't really believe clark possessed any kind of rough edge or combative instinct. despite his large stature, you couldn't really picture him ever being rough.

that was until tonight.

you and clark had planned to drop by some event at the talon, but your sweet boyfriend had warned you earlier that he found out there'd probably be some trouble there later. some potentially dangerous situation that he wanted you avoiding at all costs. it was for your safety. he just wanted you to stay home where he wouldn't be worried while him and chloe investigated.

but did you listen to him? of course not. you went anyways, not in the mood to listen to his vague explanations as to how he even discovered this information in the first place. you put on a cute little dress with some new shoes you bought specifically for the night and took off.

unfortunately for you, clark had turned out to be right. not even thirty minutes after you arrived, chaos broke out. people flew through walls and glass shattered everywhere, all because of some guy who looked like his body could stretch and bend like a rubberband. it totally sucked. but none of that was even the worst part. you survived the craziness of whatever that person's problem was. the real danger came when the dust settled and you saw clark across the room staring at you.

he looked pissed.

he was at your side in an instant, but closing the distance didn't soften him any. it kind of did the opposite since up close he could see a bloody scrape stretching across your cheekbone.

you could see he was worried first and foremost, but behind that concerned top coat a fire burned. as soon as your small wound had been tended to, his long fingers clasped around your bicep. he pulled you to your feet and all but dragged you out of the coffee shop.

"clark i-" you started in an attempt to explain yourself.

"save it," he said, voice as cold as you'd ever heard it, "i asked you for one thing. that's it. stay home for your own good. don't come out here and pointlessly risk your life."

"it wasn't that bad," you defend weakly.

"but why even take the chance?" he asked with true exasperation, "i shouldn't need to convince you that your safety is more important than whatever they had going on tonight."

he didn't continue the lecture beyond that. just walked with a clenched jaw and motivated stare in the direction of his truck. like always, he opened the door for you when you got there. though this time, he practically scooped you up and dumped you into the car.

he was silent as he drove, fingers tight around the steering wheel. you could practically feel the frustration rolling off of him. the urge to lash out for once was near spilling over. he pulled the car over, and you figured you were really in for it. in a way you were right, just not how you thought.

clark didn't bother yelling, didn't try to start a fight. he glared at you for a few silent seconds before leaning across the seats and crashing his lips against yours. he kissed you like he wanted to steal the breath from your lungs.

after a blur of clothing being shifted around and positioning body parts awkwardly in the confined space, you found yourself in the meanest mating press of your life.

you were folded in half beneath all of clark's weight. the points of your new heels scraped up the truck's ceiling while your knees squished against your chest. little squeaks and whines slipped their way out of you as his tip battered against your cervix. he was so deep you swore you could feel your insides rearranging to make room for him.

"clarkkkk," you mewled before biting your lip, desperately searching for some way to ground yourself. one set of your fingers gripped strands of his dark hair while the other held a fist of his flannel.

"what, baby?" he panted. for once, clark wasn't fawning over you between thrusts. he wasn't cooing or praising you for taking him so well. instead, he had his face against your neck and his hands wrapped around your waist, bucking into your dripping heat with enough force to rock the car.

you tried to force out words to convey what you were thinking. too big. too much. so deep. harder. faster. none of those made it though. only choked moans and then a sharp squeal when he rolled his hips and struck that extra-sensitive sweet spot inside you.

"someone's gonna see if they drive by," you whimpered, squirming underneath him.

"maybe you should hold still then and let me finish, huh?" he grunted, "no one's gonna see. everyone's in town dealing with the mess from tonight. the one i told you was gonna happen."

"i didn't think-"

"i know you didn't," he interrupted, "didn't use that pretty little head at all, did you?"

words of defense eluded you right now, his nonstop thrusts keeping your mind cloudy. instead you chose to whine, your lip quivering he rolled his hips deeper yet again.

"oh yeah?" he asked, as if you'd said something coherent.

you opened your mouth again to speak, to really argue back this time, but you were cut off by your own desperate cry when his hands tugged you closer and speared you even further on his cock. you could feel him grinning against your neck at the noise.

"i know, baby. i know you're sorry. you don't have to explain. thinking's too hard for you right now, yeah?" he cooed, his tone bordering on mocking.

your pout got more severe but so did the needy sounds escaping your mouth. you felt those long fangs of his scrape against your throat. his tongue then glided across the area, making you shudder.

"clark-" you tried to say something else, but he cut you off. he raised his head up and kissed you deep again, swallowing the words right from your mouth. when he pulled back for air, he rested his sweaty forehead against yours.

"you can be such a brat," he breathed, "so much whining even though i know you love this."

the truck creaked as his movements continued to jostle it. you felt his breath fanning across your face and watched as his eyes fluttered shut. you knew he was getting close, but so were you. your cunt squeezed around him rhythmically, coaxing him too the edge along with you.

"you gonna cum, baby?" he finally muttered against your lips.

you nodded eagerly, more than ready to release. it only took a few more hard thrusts to get you there, and clark followed along no problem. in the afterglow, he laid on top of you for a minute or so, trapping you in a cage of searing body heat.

when he finally did sit up, the two of you fixed your clothes and stretched your limbs. he looked over at you with more tenderness. your boyfriend's gentle temperament had seemingly returned with the relief his peak brought.

he cupped your jaw with his fingers, looking over that cut on your face. leaning in, he gave it a small kiss before starting up the car again.

"i'm just trying to look out for you, you know? just... please listen next time. i don't know what i'd do if you got hurt. you had me worried sick."

"i will. i'm sorry i scared you," you replied softly. your eyes studied the loving look in his eyes and the way his features seemed so at peace now that all his adrenaline was out of his system.

you grabbed his hand across the seats and traced little patterns on his knuckles for the drive home. he let you play with his fingers but shot you a glance.

"i'm serious. next time you get involved with something like that i won't let you off so easy," he teased.

you smiled and nodded, wanting to put his mind at ease. though in the back of your mind, a small part of you considered trying again some time, just to see what "not so easy" looked like to him.

[gremlinwithacause]

You should have known better. It’s not the first time you’ve been ditched, but it might be the last. Huh. 

You make good money on your work. You’re nothing noble or special. You’re just damn good at your job. Fighting and killing come second hand. You could blame it on your parents. Blame it on working at a slaughterhouse. Blame it on getting picked on and having to fight for yourself. Blame it on needing cash to live. The details don’t matter all that much. You’re a good fighter and a better killer. Someone told you that your need to survive made you different. You don’t think so and you’re tired of hearing it. 

It’s not just the shady folks that hire you. You get plenty of employers of good standing. The adventurers aren’t special. A set in a line of many that want extra hands or extra cannon fodder. You tend to be lucky enough to be the former. You’ve ended up in jail more than once for people like this. Your wealthier employers tend to bail you out. You were valuable enough for the extra investment. Worth more alive, and all that. So you’ve been around a few dozen times. 

Being ditched in the field isn’t new but being half dead is. 

You should have seen it on their faces. You should have known better. They didn’t want you there, but someone thought they needed you. It makes sense they ditched you once the boss went down. 

But damn. They didn’t even watch it happen. Straight for the loot, huh? On some level you respect it, on the other level you’re bleeding out and you can only watch them run away. Not even a one liner? A spit on your body? A single piece of gold thrown on your body and a good “there’s your payment, you filthy animal.” 

Huh. Maybe you deserve it. You never messed with theatrics. Why would you get any? 

Things are fading in and out. Blood loss is always a pain to deal with. It would be easier to let go, you think. You still put pressure on the wound in your stomach and side and breathe through the pain. It’d be insulting if you just let yourself keel over, right? No, you’re just scared. 

“Guess we’re both expendable, huh?” 

You don’t have it in you to startle. The boss that you were damn sure was dead is not that. Alive enough to banter with you. It’s more than you offered anyone. What a sweetheart. 

“Dunno,” you say. “Never really thought of it.”

It makes sense. You’re not a hero. What were the chances of you actually out-living adventurers like the ones that ditched you here? You’re worth more alive, but when is the investment no longer worth it?

“‘S funny,” the boss says. Chatty, you think. What can you do but humor them? “Didn’t think heroes would leave their own behind.” 

“I was hired,” you say. 

“Really?” 

They laugh. Then cough and choke on blood or their own spit. You wait for them to finish their cackling, and then continue to wait for the end. 

“They're always picky with their heroes, huh?” 

Oh boy, the pronoun game. 

“Don’t care,” you say. May whatever higher power there is forgive your temper as you’re dying. “It’s work.” 

“Ah. You’re one of those,” they say. Like they know you. Ugh. You want to finish the job. “I always liked those. Basic motivations are the best. Nothing to second guess.” 

You roll your eyes. You’ve heard it all before. What is it worth now? 

“I tried the whole leader thing,” they say. “Good worshippers are hard to find, you know?”

You don’t. You won’t. 

“Sounds more like a cult.” “Eh. Same thing,” they dismiss. 

“What were you even the god of?” you snap. You can’t help it. This guy wasn’t any more special than you--that is: not.

“Anything I could get my hands on,” they say. “I wasn’t picky. Got enough of something that I became this, though.”

A boss. A few tiers above the usual monsters that you can find, always locked up in some kind of home base. 

“So were you a god or not?”

“No, never got that far. Wouldn’t have lost to you if I did.”

“Sure. Lie to yourself.”

They laugh again, “I like that. Confidence like that is usually up on some pedestal. Good on you.” 

“Yeah. Did me a lot of good.” 

“Did you enough,” they say. “You’re not new at this, must have been going for a while.”

“It’s work,” you repeat. It’s always work. It’s to survive. 

“You want a new job?” they ask. 

You lift your head enough to look over at them. They’re flat on their back. Your spear is still in their chest. It’s what’s keeping them from bleeding out. You know better than to leave the weapon in, but you were distracted by the whole dying thing. 

It’s getting harder to keep the pressure on your wound. Your hands are getting weaker. You’re getting weaker. You’re surprised you’re still awake. And what is this guy talking about? …You’ll indulge it. What else are you going to do? 

“Contract?” you ask. 

“Sure,” they say. 

A silver contract appears in front of you, something you don’t see too often. The consequences on silvers are serious, most people just do physical ones or bronzes. 

You squint to make sense of the blurring letters. 

“Follower? Really? What, are you still trying to form that cult?” you snort. It hurts and you dig your fingers into your skin. You don’t even feel it. 

“Good clerics are hard to find,” they say.

“Hah, and your lucky cleric is about to kick the bucket,” you say. “Sucks to be you.”

“Read it.” 

“Sorry. It gets hard to read with blood in your eyes.” 

“You live. You worship me.” 

You grimace. Sounds like a hassle. But… the idea of continuing to live is like candy. What else is there to do? It’s work.

You sign. 

You’re a mercenary hired by adventurers to defeat the boss. After the battle, they loot the treasure and abandon you wounded. The defeated boss crawls over and says, “Guess we’re both expendable, huh?”

[sungbeams]

WIP DUMP

okay so this is lowkey inspired by @jayparked posting about her wips a bit ago (check them out here she's crazy talented and i can't wait to read them all) and since i've been struggling with writing recently i thought maybe sharing some of my wips could help. also biggest thanks to snail for helping me with the synopses for some of these and listening to me stress over the banners and everything

if you want to talk to me about any of them or wanna get tagged pls don't hesitate to send asks or comment on this post, i'd love to talk about them some more🥺❤️

MIDNIGHT IN MILAN — lhs

⟡ ┆ featuring. heeseung x fem!reader

⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, established relationship, idol AU (both heeseung and yn)

⟡ ┆ warnings. semi-public sex, unprotected sex, mirror sex, mild choking, creampie, fingering, tiniest hint of degradation (he calls her a slut like once), one singular spank, some hair pulling, not really any aftercare

⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 6k

they say love makes you do stupid things...surely fucking your boyfriend in the bathroom at the prada after party when your relationship isn't even public and neither of you can afford a dating scandal isn't that stupid, right?

(i'm well aware the hype around tipsy heeseung has already died down but i started writing this immediately after the pics dropped and then got hit by writers block so i'm dedicated to finish this)

!! more under the cut !!

HE HATES ME, HE HATES ME NOT — psh

⟡ ┆ featuring. sunghoon x fem!reader

⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, enemies to lovers, coworker AU, miscommunication (ikik), lowkey past fuckboi sunghoon

⟡ ┆ warnings. hate sex, semi-public sex (in an archive room?), protected and unprotected sex (there's several smut scenes), choking, spanking, degradation, praise kink, oral (m. and f. receiving), handjob, fingering, manhandling, overstimulation, dacryphilia, spit kink

⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 20k

park sunghoon hates you, and you hate him. it hadn't always been like that, when you first joined the company he works at he was friendly, a real gentleman, but over time of working together he turns cold, sometimes even downright mean, and you cannot for the life of you figure out what caused the sudden change in his behavior. however, things between you change yet again when you 'accidentally' get locked in your offices archive room.

HOME IS WHEREVER YOU ARE — lhs

⟡ ┆ featuring. heeseung x fem!reader

⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, college!au, friends to lovers

⟡ ┆ warnings. there's some talks of depression as well as unhealthy coping mechanism so be aware of that pls, protected sex (be proud of me okay), oral (f. and m. receiving), vanilla af, neither of them are virgins or inexperienced but they just having sex for the first time together after realizing they've been in love with each other for years :')

⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 14k

"distance makes the heart grow fonder." is no longer just a cliche saying. heeseung decided to follow his dreams, but doing so lead him to a different city, leaving you behind. no other friends, no hobbies to keep yourself busy, and no motivation to keep going, the only thing keeping you on some sort of routine is attending your college classes that your parents force you to go to. just when you're about to officially quit and give up, heeseung shows up out of nowhere and manages to pull you out of your slump, upturning your whole friendship in the process.

NATURAL REMEDY — pjs

⟡ ┆ featuring. jay x fem!reader

⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, physical therapist!reader, patient!jay, probably hipaa violations idk just don't do this irl basically

⟡ ┆ warnings. unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), body worship (jay receiving bc he deserves someone to tell him or handsome he is), handjob, lots of oil, lowkey massage kink idek what to call this??

⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 5k

when jay hurts his knee while goofing around with his friends, his doctor recommends rest and physical therapy. lucky for him, your office is just around the corner, just that neither of you can make good on the ordered rest by doctor.

HEALTHY COMPETITION — lhs + sjy

⟡ ┆ featuring. heeseung x fem!reader x jake

⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, college au, non-idol au, and they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates), no romance just fucking

⟡ ┆ warnings. basically no plot, threesome (duh), protected and unprotected sex, anal, double penetration, spanking, oral (m. and f. receiving), multiple rounds, manhandling, they make it a competition to see who can make her moan the loudest...

⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 9k

your roommates bickering should be nothing but white noise to you at this point, but when they both rope you into their little argument of who fucks better things take an interesting turn and a welcomed distraction from studying is provided.

SNEAKY LINK — sjy

⟡ ┆ featuring. jake x fem!reader

⟡ ┆ genre and tropes. MDNI 18+ ONLY, smut, uni AU, frat boy jake (i'm sorry), friends with benefits but no one knows, alcohol consumption (they're not drunk and both consenting !!)

⟡ ┆ warnings. unprotected sex (it's a theme for me atp, don't do this irl pls), dry humping, fingering (it's jake come on now), kinda rushed sex ig, does it count as exhibitionism when they fuck in a spare bedroom idk, oral (f. receiving), breast play

⟡ ┆ estimated word count. 4k

frat parties usually weren't your thing, but when your best friend invites you (with the intention to be her wingwoman) you're not one to let her down. that is until you run into jake, whom you've been fooling around with without anyone knowing ...

© sungbeams — all rights reserved. i do not give permission to copy, repost, modify or translate my works.

[letstrip13]

m.s - nsfw alphabet

inspired by @sturniolobsessed !!!

read the chris version here <3

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A - AFTERCARE (what are they like after sex?)

he’s so so so so sweet about it. of course he makes sure you’re okay and you have everything you need, but what he looks forward to the most are the cuddles after. he loves falling asleep skin to skin with you, his arms wrapped around your body and his face in the crook of your neck. also, he is 100% the boyfriend who will carry you to the bathroom to pee after sex if he makes you unable to walk right.

B - BODY PART (their favourite body part of theirs and their partner’s?)

he loves every inch of you but it would be a tough decision between your tits, your lips, and your thighs. he loves touching your tits, not even in a sexual way half the time. he just likes having them in his hands. as for your lips, he loves kissing them, loves the feeling of them trailing kisses up and down his neck, loves the way they look wrapped around his cock. + he loves having his hand on your thigh as he drives, always squeezing it or rubbing it. his favourite body parts of his are his arms and back. he loves the way you adore his tattoos, always touching them and tracing them. he loves wrapping his arms around you. as for his back, he loves the way you scratch it up during sex.

C - CUM (anything to do with cum.)

his favourite place to do it is inside you. he loves filling you up and watching it drip out of you after he pulls out.

D - DIRTY SECRET (what is a dirty secret of theirs?)

he secretly lurks on tumblr from time to time to sort of get advice on things to do/say during sex. unbeknownst to you, it does help. but he tries to keep it minimal, only doing it when he feels he's really stuck in a rut now since he doesn't want you getting suspicious of anything. but he did it more when you first started sleeping together, wanting to impress you. his tumblr days are pretty much over now but it's still hiding where he needs it just in case.

E - EXPERIENCE (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he is not one to put himself out there so his body count before you was probably zero. but like chris, he's a fast learner when it comes to pleasing you.

F - FAVOURITE POSITION (self explanatory.)

missionary because he loves being as close to you as possible and loves seeing your face. sometimes, he'll put your legs over his shoulders to get even deeper. a close second is cowgirl with his hands on your thighs or hips and your tits within easy reach for his mouth or hands.

G - GOOFY (are they serious or goofy in the moment?)

he's completely serious in the moment but will crack jokes after.

H - HAIR (how well trimmed are they? does the carpet match the drapes?)

same as chris, keeps it clean and trimmed but doesn't shave it all.

I - INTIMACY (how intimate are they in the moment?)

very intimate and in the moment. he loves to savour every second with you.

J - JERKING OFF (masturbation.)

he's definitely the type to have ‘accidentally’ ended up with a pair of your panties after they ‘got mixed up in the laundry.’ for the most part, he'll just go to you when he's horny so he doesn't have much use for it anyways.

K - KINKS (what kinks do they have?)

he for sure has a breeding kink with the way he loves cumming inside you and filling you up. he also has a cockwarming kink; he can never get enough of the way he stuffs you so full. he'll stay in you, perfectly still, for as long as you'll let him.

L - LOCATION (favourite place(s) to do it?)

since missionary is his favourite position, his go-to is either his or your bed. but he's always up for car sex with you.

M - MOTIVATION (what gets them going?)

kissing his neck and playing with his hair. also you matching his energy when he gets an attitude and giving him one right back just does something to him.

N - NO (things they are not open to in bed.)

like chris, he does not want you anywhere near his ass.

O - ORAL (are they good at it? do they like giving or receiving more?)

matt the munch is all that needs to be said. but he's a sucker (no pun intended) for receiving. his favourite thing is when you let him take full control, holding your hair back for you as he fucks your throat.

P - PACE (fast and rough? or slow and sensual?)

it depends but he's more of a slow and sensual kind of man. sometimes he'll mix them and fuck you rough but at a slower pace. the way he'll thrust like that drives both of you insane.

Q - QUICKIE (their opinion on quickies and how often you have them.)

he prefers to take his time with you. given a choice, he will always go the long route with lots of teasing and foreplay. but he will never say no to a quickie in his car or if he's horny before either of you need to be somewhere.

R - RISK (are they willing to take risks?)

he likes to play it safe and stay in his comfort zone but if you have ideas, he's pretty open to them.

S - STAMINA (how many rounds can they go? how long do they last?)

much like chris, he can go a good two or three rounds but he tries to drag it out as long as he can.

T - TOYS (do they own toys? if so, which ones?)

same as chris. he doesn't own any, but if you have a vibrator, he's more than happy to use it on you. he'll love to tease you and overstimulate you with it. maybe he might even let you try it on him just to experiment.

U - UNFAIR (do they like to tease?)

the rings, the tongue thing, the pink slutty waist shirt, the glasses, the stubble !!! he's a slut and he knows it. he teases you to no end whether it's subtle like those things or whether he's bringing you close to cumming then denying you the release over and over again.

V - VOLUME (how loud are they? do they grunt, moan, whimper, etc?)

he's quiet yet vocal if that makes sense. he does it all: groans, moans, grunts, even whimpers and whines but he's not super loud about it. unless he really can't control himself which is more often than he means to. so it's a good balance between the two.

W - WILD CARD (a random headcannon.)

his biggest sex dream/fantasy is to have you suck him off while he's driving but he won't bring it up because he's afraid of crashing.

X - X-RAY (what's going on under their clothes?)

he's like seven inches as well but not as girthy as chris is.

Y - YEARNING (how high is their sex drive?)

he gets horny a lot but he's good at hiding it until you're alone.

Z - ZZZ (how fast do they fall asleep after?)

no matter how tired he is, he will fight to stay awake until he knows you're asleep. after that, he's out like a light.

------------------------୨୧------------------------

author's note: check out this post! + last chance to join the writing comp

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[that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction]

Sometimes I think Merlin and Arthur started the sacrificing each other to save each other shit too soon into the series.

Then I remember this scene exists.

(Screenshot from S1E2 - Valiant of Merlin bringing the snake head from the enchanted shield to Arthur to warn him that he’s in danger.)

They moved quickly, but they have a damn good reason for it. I honestly can’t say I blame them.

Merlin learned two things about his destiny with Arthur from this episode:

The first is that Arthur will listen when it matters, but his father’s influence runs deep. Arthur cares more about people’s opinion of him than anything else because he’s been groomed his entire life to become the future king, and Uther is tyrannical in his power so he believes that his is the only way to rule. Arthur picked up bad habits, so while he’s still young and learning what kind of man and leader he wants to be, he could still go either way and Merlin can’t yet trust him to always make the best decisions. (Proved in S1E3 when he enlists Morgana to talk to Arthur about the Afank)

The second thing is that Arthur believes in the systems that Merlin knows to be broken, so he learns it’s better to come to Arthur with results rather than warnings, because Arthur believes the systems in place can help, even in situations where they’d be more of a liability.

Both points are then enforced through season 1 and reinforced by Merlin himself in season 2 onwards.

Arthur learned that Merlin is loyal and honest to a fault, but because of the lifelong grooming as royalty and someone who’s supposed to be “above all others” - as proven when Uther says “his life isn’t worthless, it’s worth less than yours” to Arthur in S1E4 when he denies Arthur a group of men to take to save Merlin - it takes a while for it to really sink in that someone can be loyal and genuinely like him without ulterior motive, and when he finally does recognise that Merlin’s devotion is genuinely sincere, he pushes Merlin away (S2E1) in an attempt to keep himself from getting too close and then hurt by what his father would call his own naivety, rather than just admitting that sometimes people are just bad people who do bad things.

He then subconsciously or not learns that Merlin not being by his side is bad so he keeps him around but at a distance with walls built to protect himself. I can go more into that another time. Uther scapegoats Arthur for a lot, and even acknowledges that he’s a bad parent a few times but never does anything to change the behaviour so his apologies aren’t worth shit. Add that to the genocidal tyranny, and you’ve got a fascinating character who somehow isn’t the main villain of the story. I hate him, he should go play hop scotch on quick sand, but damn is he interesting from a writing/analytical standpoint.

So, yeah, they moved from “if anyone wants to kill him, they can go right ahead. I’ll give them a hand” (-Merlin S1E1) to “…Certain death. Few who have crossed the mountains in search of the Mortaeus Flower have made it back alive” “Sounds like fun” (-Gaius and Arthur S1E4) pretty quickly, but it makes sense when you think about why they moved that quickly with context of how they interact and their (assumed) past experiences.

[spdrvyn]

YOU'RE HERE, THAT'S THE THING — [ wc: 1.7k. college au. fluff-ish? ] nothing cute about uni life. nothing to romanticize about pulling off all-nighters. unless... ?

now that i think about this is the first miguel fic i've written that's not adjacent with spiderverse canon world-building wise 🤔 also kinda silly of me to write a college fic when i'm not even in college so be warned i'll sound probably like a dumbass but hope you guys enjoy anyway!

7:23PM in the evening. Twenty hours until your essay was due.

The blonded hues of the setting sun reflected onto your laptop’s screen, currently open with a completely blank Google Document and nary a draft or outline in sight. As the ice in your half-empty coffee had almost thoroughly melted, you realized that you were completely fucked.

Originally, there was a study group that you were intended on joining somewhere at the start of the week. Hell, you guys shared Notion calendars and made an entire group chat. Only when you courageously sent a message last night asking for a rain check on the plans, you were left on read and down one-hundred dignity points.

That’s how you ended up here, waiting for the adrenaline from the impending deadline to set in. The condensation from your drink wets your palm uncomfortably as you take a sad, bitter sip. Someone could be writing a story about your defeat, writing a ten-page analysis about it, and submitting it at least three days before the deadline like a normal person with a sense of urgency.

When you shut your laptop and concede to the pressure, Miguel walks in to your shared dorm. With thick textbooks and an open backpack slung over one of his shoulders, he pauses at the sight of you. “I thought you’d be out.”

The reminder that your group abandoned you sours your mood even more, you tersely reply: “They ghosted me.”

“Oh,” Miguel tries to sound sympathetic, but it’s obvious that he’s also struggling with a final of some kind with how he ushers all of his belongings to the table you’re currently occupying. He’s told you before that he rarely ever joins study groups, which makes sense. You’ve noticed he’s self-reliant and efficient to an almost terrifying degree when it comes to his academics, awake at ungodly hours of the night to pinch the highest grade that there is. If anything, it’s more likely that he’ll offer to tutor other people.

“What’s on your roster for tonight? I’ve got an essay,” You swiftly put on your document tab again, motivated by how he’s already flipping through his books and copying down notes on his tablet. God, you wished you could just start studying like that.

“Final tomorrow, haven’t started reviewing yet. I basically spent the last two days at the lab for my other final.” He’s writing at a speed that should be considered superhuman, all while he’s answering your pesky questions.

You don’t want to move to another spot, because it would seem rude. Not like his presence is unwelcome, his studiousness just makes you really, really envious. Also the fact that both of you are majoring in completely different subjects.

Majoring in Arts in Literature, while he majors in Genetic Engineering can cause difficulty whenever explaining plans to each other. Miguel puts in the effort to not confuse you with the STEM jargon while you try not to ramble about your current readings and explaining your interpretations of them to someone else instead of writing them down on paper to, you know, submit.

Either way, it hasn’t caused any big miscommunications with being so different and all. You hope he doesn’t mind you beginning to working with him too, as you shyly type a thesis statement into your assignment. Another sip of your coffee, sounds of Miguel scrawling, and you think you may be ready to take this assignment head-on.

~

12:40AM into the night. Fifteen hours until your essay is due.

Shockingly enough, you were able to finish three pages out of five. The grammar so far is probably going to drag you down by fifteen points and you usually send it to your friends to proofread, but it clearly isn’t an option given what time of the day it is right now. It’s still a lot better than the end you saw for yourself when you were left dangling on the edge of failure by your study group.

The caffeine had completely worn off by now, and your coffee had been drained somewhere around an hour ago. When that happens, you usually start to get antsy and it’s even harder to keep the momentum going and when that happens, you take a break and go for a walk or something.

Which is what you’re about to do, as you stand up, but you realize that Miguel is sitting still as a statue in front of one of his books and his eyes scan the words on the page, over and over again. You can’t tell if he’s also losing focus or if he’s knee-deep in focus.

“Miguel,” He sighs when you call his name and the noise makes you wince, fearing that you’ve upset him. “Uhm, I’m going to take a walk. Do you wanna come with?”

It’s an offer that you thought for sure he wasn’t going to take.

What you don’t expect however is for him to slam his reading shut, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of his nose before getting up from his seat. With a huff of, “Sure.”

“Oh- we can go for a coffee run if that’s what you want. I don’t think I can sleep tonight.”

“Ok. Me neither.”

“Great, that’s- that’s great.”

~

Both of you stew in the (semi) comfortable silence as you make the trek from your dorm room and out to the expanse of the campus.

You realize how brisk a walk can become with Miguel considering how abnormally tall he is. Granted, you recognize his subtle effort to slow down for you when he notices how winded you got after only five minutes on the way to the gas station.

It’s a new height that you’ve reached with him, not like you never wanted to grow closer with him or anything. He is your roommate after all, so it only makes sense. Although despite your love for reading that has fender-bendered into a Literature degree in the making, you were never too great at reading people. Miguel is one of the hardest people to read considering his outward stoicism, and both of you being naturally introverted didn’t help at all.

Still, this was the perfect time in your life to make new friends and life-lasting connections. Besides you would also consider yourself pretty pathetic if you wouldn’t be able to make a new one out of your roommate, A.K.A someone who is confined to a room with you for a whole school year. Literally no other choice but to do so.

You wonder if he feels the same way too, but asking each other of your first impressions is a conversation that is really only befitting for people that have been together for years. A status that you have no idea that you’ll ever achieve with him someday.

Though you are quickly broken out of your kind of depressing spiral when Miguel opens the door to the store for you, with a muttered ‘thank you’ you behold the fluorescent lights and hint of smoke. The walk to the coffee machine is instinctive, and you pluck a bag of spicy chips from the shelf on the way. Miguel follows suit, only he picks a bag of pretzels and a pack of gum.

The dispenser chokes out a splatter of coffee into your plastic cup and you flinch at the noise, Miguel spares you a glance but goes back to fidgeting with the pointed edges of his pretzel bag.

“So, what’s your final about?” It’s a stupid question being completely transparent, but fuck it. You’re bored, and the silence only gets more uncomfortable the longer both of you keep quiet.

“Genetic inheritance, the traits passed down from a parent onto a child. That kind of thing,” He muses. “And you?”

“Oh, Les Miserables essay. Five pages total.”

“Long book, and long film.”

Your cup is nearly on the tip of overflowing so you quickly slide it out and put one under for Miguel. “Yeah, I had to do a re-read because it’s been a while. I only finished around two days ago and I started it again at the beginning of the month.”

He gives you an honest chuckle, you take it and you think you’ll remember the sound forever. “One of my, uh, friends sat me down to watch the movie. Fell asleep halfway through, but I do remember it being decent in the parts that I was awake.”

“Well if I can find a totally legal recording of the stage play, maybe that would pique your interest more.”

When you look up at him, he smiles and it might be the happiest you’ve seen him ever since becoming acquainted with each other. It’s not a lot, but you feel over the moon over a small talk about your stupid essay.

…Your stupid essay!

You cut the moment short by haphazardly closing the lids on both of your coffees, you hand it to Miguel who starts to emanate your hurried energy and the walk back to your dorm is very swift.

~

Morning. Some time before your essay is due.

That is what you can assume anyway, the sun is back and its rays peek at you from the gaps in the blinds. Your hair is a frazzled mess as you lift your head off of the pillow which is perched up against the armrest on the sofa, the blanket on top of you shifts, and this was also… definitely not where you fell asleep last night.

You were expecting neck and back pain, along with a mild headache once you woke up. As you came to the sloppy completion of your work, you called it a night, slammed your laptop shut, and decided to just sleep right then and there. Doing your night routine and getting into bed would simply be too much time and work when you probably wouldn’t even be getting that much rest anyway.

There’s a fresh glass of water on the coffee table and a sticky note from Miguel, who you could only assume was the one who put you here.

‘Had to head out early for my exam. Good luck with your essay, there’s food on the counter.’

You slump back into your makeshift bed and pull out your phone from your back pocket, there’s still seven hours until your essay is due and you only need around two for revisions.

Maybe you could sleep in just a little longer, dream about conversations that will never happen, cafe dates that never come to be. But after last night, rather earlier this morning, those odds shift in your favor.

[myrtlebranch1019]

Why Davrin is my favourite companion in DA:TV.

With characters like Neve and Emmrich in the game—both of whom are well-written and fall under my favorite character archetypes—it was surprising to find Davrin climbing into the number one spot on my list. For starters, I’ve never been particularly invested in the Grey Warden storyline outside of Origins and my Hero of Ferelden. I don’t typically gravitate toward Grey Warden romances either. All things considered, I would’ve expected Davrin to rank lower for me, certainly not first. But I always try to keep an open mind about characters, even if I’m not initially drawn to their subplots. Surprisingly, not only did Davrin become my favorite, but the Grey Wardens turned out to be the only faction whose writing I genuinely enjoyed.

Why Davrin stood out to me

Let’s start with what made me connect with Davrin specifically, because at the end of the day, preference is deeply subjective, and relatability is often a key factor. Nonetheless, I do feel Davrin's writing doesn’t get enough credit for how realistic his arc is. Everything we learn about his past points to him being the classic "small-town misfit" (in his case, a Dalish clan misfit) who wanted to break free of his bubble. Growing up, I had a similar mindset. I believed there had to be more to life than seeing the same faces, hearing the same perspectives, and following the same predetermined path.

In one conversation, Davrin mentions how his clan felt rejected by his decision to leave. That resonated with me, but what struck me more was the subtlety in how this rejection was portrayed. In my experience, the person who leaves often carries the weight of perceived rejection far longer than the community they leave behind, which typically moves on. This nuance was reflected in Davrin’s journey—how that sense of rejection motivated him to pursue his path without looking back. It’s a mix of choice and pride, and it’s telling that he only becomes eager to reconnect with his clan near the end of the game, after he’s accomplished what he wanted.

Then there’s the moment of failure that every person faces when they leave behind everything they know—when the unknown turns out to be far more brutal than anticipated. Davrin doesn’t shy away from this, admitting that he “got his ass kicked” and went broke. That particular conversation during his first personal quest hit close to home for me. As a Dalish elf, Davrin likely faced additional obstacles, such as the pervasive discrimination elves endure in this universe. His banter with Bellara (easily missed but incredibly insightful) sheds light on those early days of hardship: how he came to appreciate the things he’d once taken for granted, how he desperately sought purpose to make all his struggles worthwhile.

What I appreciated most was how realistic and difficult his journey felt. He didn’t simply leave his clan and immediately flourish; he had to mold himself into who he wanted to be, enduring setbacks and moments of doubt along the way. Leaving wasn’t painted as an objectively good or bad decision—it was a necessary step for his self-discovery. It also wasn’t framed as a critique of Dalish culture, which I found refreshing given BioWare’s frequent criticism of the Dalish. Davrin wasn’t used as a narrative tool to disparage their way of life; instead, his story highlights that he didn’t fit in and needed to explore a different path. Which is why he is the perfect character to decide the future of the Griffons, whether they will follow tradition or the road less travelled. (By the way, I felt the moment lost its impact when the final decision was left to Rook. I firmly believe that Davrin should have been the one to make the ultimate choice, with the outcome influenced by prior conversations.)

Additionally, while the stoic warrior archetype isn’t typically my cup of tea. (For example, while Blackwall is a complex and well-written character, I never really connected with him). With Davrin, I enjoyed that the stoicism is tempered by his snarky sense of humor, boldness, fiery passion and a softer, nurturing side that emerges in his relationship with Assan. Beneath these layers, there are moments in the game when his dialogue hints at deeper fears and vulnerabilities. His line about Wardens having an “expiration date” stood out to me, overall, the post-Weisshaupt conversation is a fascinating moment that deserves more attention. While the game resolves it quickly, there’s something poignant about how Davrin’s overwhelming need to belong and have a purpose makes him the quintessential "army dreamer." This aspect of his character—the drive to prove himself and tie his self-worth to a cause and subsequently an accomplishment is subtle and easy to miss beneath the more heroic motivation to protect others, but it’s still there.

For the Adventurous Misfits

I could write much more about Davrin (and probably will in future posts), but ultimately, he’s my favorite because he represents the adventurous misfits. He’s for the ones who leave their safety bubble only to get brutally punched in the face by life. For those who tie their self-worth to their achievements and set impossible standards for themselves. Anyone who tries to avoid caring, because they’re only capable of caring too much. And lastly, for those who despite everything, refuse to give up. Davrin’s journey is one of self-discovery, resilience, and growth, and it's a story that feels both deeply personal and universally relatable.

[ghostlycod]

Saw your post about asks, and I feel in the same boat, so I thought if it's okay, I'd send you an ask. I've just flattered through your page, and I love your style.

1) Finding the perfect gift for any of the 141 members for Christmas.

2) Secretly placing mistletoe somewhere on base for Ghost to find.

Your writes are amazing, glad I found you! X

[[Thank you, babes!!!! Ah! Hi!

this is so relevant for me rn because I’m currently struggling to find my boyfriend the perfect Christmas gift lol]]

ghost - your first thought is to get him more masks, but everyone always gets him more masks. no, it should be something special. something personal. you don’t realize that for him, you’ve already given him the best gift: a Christmas that he doesn’t have to spend alone. a Christmas that he gets to spend with someone who really loves him. a Christmas that quiet and peaceful, with no yelling voices or thrown objects. a Christmas that’s warm and loving, with sneaky mistletoe kisses in the randomest of places and cozy socks. you’ve already given him exactly what he wanted and needed, anything else you get him is just a bonus.

price - seeing you enjoy the gifts he got you just to spoil you is enough for him. he doesn’t want anything else- no really, love. just wanna see you happy. but a nice case for his favorite vintage gun in his collection wouldn’t be too bad, or his favorite very nice cologne that always makes you want to bury your nose in his shirts and burn the scent on the inside your nostrils, or an expensive watch since that’s always his go-to accessory when dressing up

gaz - whatever he gets you is always so nice, always exactly what you needed, that it puts so much pressure on what to get him. he has to absolutely love it, just like you love whatever he gets you. box tickets to his favorite sporting event is up there for one of the best gifts he could be given, but I personally am a “gaz loves self care” truther. I think his guilty pleasure is skin care, a face mask every now and again (and a facial on you every now and again), and he likes very nice, soft lounge clothes to relax in when he’s at home. any of that kind of stuff would be great, but if you got him a couple’s spa day/massage gift certificate he would be over the moon.

soap - loves a joke gift. you could get him the sweetest, most personalized thing that you put so much time and energy and love into, and he would love it!! but he also would quickly forget about it and become obsessed with the pet treat launcher that you got as a joke gift. watching your very food-motivated dog/cat skid across the floor of your shared flat as they chase treats launched at high speed from the device in his hands is, frankly, hilarious. he will be doing that all day. best gift ever.

and I’ll just say it: any and every one of these guys would not complain about opening a box of lingerie from you on Christmas morning. especially if they get to see you model it for them, like, right now.

[[and thank you so much again for this request!!!]]

[multi-fandomsfreak]

Heya! I was wondering if you could make a lil fanfic of shadow the hedgehog and mobian!reader

where the reader has a fascination with death and everything morbid due to seeing and being in lots of tragedies and shadow is mostly unaware of this but finally starts noticing the reader’s obsessive like fascination with death and wants to confront them about it

Shadow With A Mobian!Reader Who Has A Fascination With Death

Hey there! Thanks for the ask!

Sorry it took kinda long to do this. Honestly kind of lost motivation to write stuff lately but I think it’s coming back. I don’t know. Regardless, I hope you like it.

Pronouns: Not Mentioned

Warning: ⚠️Mentions Of Death + Suicide (Not Actually Committing But Talks About Wanting To) + Spoilers For Shadow’s Backstory⚠️

Requested: Yes/No

Characters: Shadow + Mention Of Maria

Proofread: ❌

Credits: Art by CoffeeBearSama on Twitter/X + Banner by salintvll (Edited by me) on Pinterest

———————————

- Honestly at first Shadow never noticed or asked about your obsession when it comes to death. He’s quite the loner so he doesn’t really indulge in anyone or their personal interests. That’s just what he’s like. Not that he’s completely dismissive of any of your interests, it's just his response to you telling him or him hearing about it is just ‘okay’. Maybe you could persuade him to join in but it may take a while but he does partake in it.

- Though eventually he does notice your interest in death. He might have heard it from someone else, maybe from you or he just so happened to discover it himself. At first admittedly he was a bit put off by it not outright it’s just he’s never really seen someone even remotely interested in death unless they’re willingly want to experience it. And to be honest even before he discovers how obsessed you were with it he’s still a little concerned that you want to end yourself so he decides to keep a close eye on you in case you actually do want to end yourself.

- However, his worry does become way worse when he slowly discovers how obsessed you actually were with it. He started to notice how you talked about it. The fact you were talking about it so casually, talking in depth about it makes him more concerned than when he discovered it. In his own way he’s genuinely worried about you. I feel like this kind of evolved from what happened to Maria that he feels compelled to make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else especially if he’s somewhat close with you.

- When he does confront you about it you may have to spend most of your time convincing him that you're okay. Honestly with the way you're talking about it he’s thinking you genuinely want to end yourself and he doesn’t want that. To him you’ve still got a lot to live for and you shouldn’t cut it short. It probably took a while for him to be convinced that you were alright. You’d probably have to explain how you gained interest in it, more specifically the shit you had to go through which made you like this.

- When you do tell him about the horrible tragedies that’s when it hits him about your obsessive fascination with death. Now he understands why you're like this. He does feel bad for you for experiencing the things you did and thinks that it must be a coping mechanism for you in a way. Even with you convincing him that it's genuinely an interest nothing more he’d still be concerned for you and tell you that if you ever need to talk he’d be there for you and listen to what you need to say.

- I do kind of feel like Shadow would be kind of interested in a way. Not like how you are, I have a feeling it’s mostly for confirmation or reassurance. It’s not that big of a surprise that he’s greatly affected by the death of Maria, someone who he’s undoubtedly the closest with. Even if a lot of time has gone by since it deep down even if he doesn’t want to admit it he still wishes that she was still alive and misses her greatly. With your interest in death he may go up to you and ask about it. He really would like your opinion about it though at first not going in that great detail about it. Even though he claims he is not interested in it he kind of wants confirmation that she’d be alright and is proud of him.

- Oddly enough, having these talks with you is very comforting for him. He finds himself being more calm about his feelings when it comes to death himself. I think the fact that he doesn’t have to bottle them up like he usually does and is free to just let it out. As soon as he’s done ranting he can feel himself just relax as he thanks you for letting him talk about it. He likes having these moments with you and he really appreciates you listening to him and the other way round.

———————————

[alpaca-clouds]

Arcane & Disability - From the Perspective of a Sensitivity Reader

Alright. I promised this a month ago, but just did not get around, because university and work were all too stressful. But still, it is a topic that keeps to be on my mind, after the end of Arcane season 2. While season 2 was a mess in general, when it comes to pacing and characters and dialogues, to me – a disabled person – one of the biggest issues really is how the series treats disability. This was already a problem in season 1, but because of the bad pacing and the fact that a lot of characters clearly did not get as many scenes as it was intended at first, making this issue worse.

So, before someone asks, who am I to judge this: While my main job is in IT, I usually do at least one book or other project in sensitivity reading per month. I just rely on the IT job to know I have a constant income, if I do not manage to get a SR-job for once. But yes, it is part of my real-life job to critique writers on this kind of stuff.

So, let me talk about the disabilities in Arcane – and what is the issue there. I will go through different characters for this.

Spoilers for season 2, obviously.

Zaun and the Chem Lords

Let me start with something that mainly is in the background. We do see the Chem Lords once in season 1 and once in season 2 – though there for a prolonged scene. And a lot of them are disabled in some way and most of them are disfigured in some way. We also do see some of the “normal people” in Zaun, who are often disabled – using some sort of prothesis – and also often disfigured. And while, sure, the show portrays it as part of the tragedy that Zaun is so exploited that there are so many people who are very disabled, but at the same time the Chem Lords are not at all portrayed in a sympathetic light, and even those background characters of Zaun (like the woman, who lost her child to Jayce and Vi) are not exactly treated sympathetically.

Before anything else, we need to establish one important thing about disability in this show: Pretty much all disabilities in this movie are acquired disabilities. Which is fair. By far most people IRL who are disabled do acquire their disability during the course of their life. Through sickness, through accidents, and also through simply aging. However, there is some issue to the fact that we see very little in terms of variety to the disabilities.

Sure, you could argue, that technically Arcane has more disabilities, than pretty much any other western media project – and you would be right. But let’s face it here: The bar is on the ground – if not underground.

But the main issue is, that for the most part the Chem Lords and a lot of those minor disabled roles in the movie are not at all portrayed sympathetically. The Chem Lords are just minor cannon fodder background villains, while the background characters are also mainly villains. Sure, I have seen a lot of fans a bit more sympathy for their motivations. But in the show? Well, we mainly see how they attack main characters and almost kill them.

This could work, mind you – if we had a counter example of good disabled characters. But that is not quite the show that we got. For the most part.

Sevika

If season 2 had not been the mess that it was, Sevika probably would be the one counter example to all of this. While in season 1 she mainly is just “the goon” for Silco and we get very, very little in terms of motivation for her, season 2 (or rather what was probably originally multiple other seasons) clearly at some point had a character arc in mind for her. Even as it was, we did learn a bit more about her motivation and such.

While I had originally just taken Sevika mainly as someone who was working for Silco, because it was the most promising opportunity for her (given there are not a lot of chances in Zaun). Not because of some ideology.

But Season 2 proofed me wrong, there. We learn not much about Sevika here, but we learn that she actually was with Silco out of conviction that what Silco was ultimately doing was making Zaun better. She understood that Zaun needed a leader figure and she thought that Silco was possibly the best leader they could have had. Now that Silco is dead, she tries to prop up Jinx as the new leader, because she understands that this is needed.

Given the place that Sevika ends up in – as a councilor for Zaun – I am gonna assume there was some version of this (one with more seasons) where Sevika had gotten an arc, this would have been more of a focus. Her learning that instead of popping up someone else as a figurehead, she had to be the one to lead people. However, we clearly did not get that version of the story.

Still, I am possibly going to argue that the fact that she did not get this arc, is less connected to her being a clearly disabled character, and more to her being not a champion in the game so far. So generally speaking, I would still argue that despite it all, she is the one disabled character in this show, who I think is generally portrayed the most favorable.

Silco

I know, some people will now ask: “How the fuck is Silco disabled.” But for once, yes, he uses a cane at times, but also, he has a facial deformity, which is in fact counted under the disability umbrella. While technically speaking a facial deformity does not always stop people from being capable of working, the discrimination of people with facial deformities has to do a lot with the favoring of healthy bodies, and how this is connected to beauty norms.

And Silco… Well, how to put this best? From what is there in season 2, I am going to assume that there was a version of this, where there had been more time to tell the story, and we would have gotten a more sympathetic portrayal of Silco, where we went more into his motivation. Season 2 does hint at the fact that indeed, Zaun under Silco was a lot more stable than in any alternate scenario, and that Silco did in fact really try to make life better for the most possible people. But that is it: It very much hints at it, but never fully goes into it.

We know this is all bound to the lady who was the mother to Vi and Powder, but how we never get explained. And yeah, this is an issue. While I do not think that originally Silco really fell into the typical trope of “person has a facial deformity to signify their evil” (something that shows up in a lot of media – including Disney movies and a ton of James Bond movies), the fact that we never really go deep into his background and motivation, he somewhat falls into the trope here. And that really just because probably all the stuff that went into him as a character was just cut for time. And yeah, fuck. It is a big issue here. If the rest of the show was not as messy as it was, it would be less so – but given the state this show is in and the way the other disabled characters are portrayed… Oh boy, this is a problem.

Singed

I actually thought a lot about whether to put Singed in here. Because yes, he clearly is disabled and has deformities. But also, in the version of the show we got, he almost feel like a footnote of a character. However, I decided to at least go quickly into him, because again: You cannot put in most disabled characters as villains, and then make someone who is very, very responsible for a lot of the bad stuff that happens in this show and make him disabled as well. And yes, I get that Singed is disabled in the game, and that he is a somewhat bad character in the game as well. But that does not undo the harm this does within the narrative of the show. And you need to understand that. While yes, you can argue that his end goal (reviving his daughter) can be considered as somewhat sympathetic, it is not addressed enough to make him a complex and nuanced character. And again, he very much is responsible for many of the bad things that happen.

Jinx

Okay, let us talk about Jinx. She is the character, who I had the biggest problem in season 1 with – and season 2 did not really make it better. Because yes – until loosing her finger in season 2, generally her disability is her mental illness that clearly is chronic and unlikely to ever fully get away. And this is a big, big issue.

Because Jinx’s mental illness is from about the same line of mental illnesses that villains in the Batman comics have. Like sure, we can argue that there are some aspects in there of some sort of Borderline, PTSD, Dissociative Identity Disorder, and such. But for the most part her mental illness exists mainly to be edgy, and weird, and strange – much like Harley Quinn’s and the Joker’s disability. We know that those two characters were major influences on Jinx.

And look, I will admit, that Harley Quinn is a character I do generally enjoy. But that does not change that yeah, Harley like Jinx is a bad character in terms in representing actually mentally ill people. Because the focus of the character is to be weird, and cool, and somewhat entertaining. While yes, some of the symptoms that Jinx is showing are based on symptoms of real mental illnesses, as mentioned above, the way she is experiencing them is mainly there to be nice in a visual and entertaining kind of way. And that is… Well, it is an issue. Especially given that her mental illness mainly does also show in her violent tendencies.

Don’t get me wrong: I have known people with some of the diagnosis that one could probably read into what we see in her, and some of those people were in fact quite violent. At times only verbally, but in some cases they would also have a hair trigger before they would start and try to shove and punch people. So yes, this part is not technically speaking a thing that is unrealistic.

However, if someone was going to hand me a book, where the one character, who very clearly is written with a mental illness is depicted as a sort of maniac, who is part supervillain, and part manic pixie dream girl, that mainly exists and is the depicted the way she is to cater to a presumed straight male audience. That really is an issue.

Nothing that I can say about Jinx is exclusive to Jinx or Arcane in the grand scheme of things. A lot of these tropes are around for decades now. But that does not make them less harmful. On the contrary. They are actually worse because of it, as this kinda will play into the confirmation bias of people, who do not have to deal with mentally ill people very often. And I wish those tropes would die.

Sure, we can argue the fact that at the very least Jinx is portrayed in a somewhat more positive manner (just as Harley Quinn is these days), is at least a tiny step forward. But it is still not a good way of portraying this. Just not the worst way anymore.

And of course then there is the fact that for now she actually dies in the end of the show, just as pretty much most disabled characters in this show do. And that… is just not a good look.

Isha

Oh boy. Isha is something that came out of nowhere and really was one of the main reasons of me wanting to write this thing. Isha is mute. And here a little bit about muteness in real life: Most mute people are deaf-mute. So they are mute, because they were born without the ability to hear properly, and hence never learn how to pronounce properly, despite technically having a voice box. People who can hear and are mute – like Isha – probably are mute because of some mental illness. Some people go mute because of trauma, some neurodivergent people are non-verbal (so they don’t speak) or can be non-verbal under stress. (I fall under this, at times. I do have days on which I just cannot properly speak.)

With Isha we never learn why she does not speak. She just doesn’t. She shows up, attached herself to Jinx, and then is basically Jinx’s own Manic Pixie Dream Girl, just in the “little sister” way, rather than the “romantic” way. She mainly exists just to bring Jinx back into functioning enough that she can partake in the rest of the plot. And once she has archived that, well… She dies. Again, like almost all disabled characters in this show fucking do. She is merely a plot device.

And again, given some of the hints that are dropped, I do assume there was at some point more to her story. But we did not get that version of this story. The version we got? Well, she is the mute manic pixie dream girl, who gracefully offs herself once her plot function has been fulfilled. And this more than anything to me is so fucking egregious. If she was not disabled this was already bad enough, but given she is disabled? This is fucking horrible – especially again in the context of a show where most disabled characters die.

Basically what the show tells me – a disabled person – is that my main worth as a person is to die for ablebodied people. Thanks Arcane, needed to hear that. Great job. Hope y’all are proud for creating this show.

Viktor

Lastly there is Viktor. And mind you, there was a moment in this where I had some hope for his arc in terms of disability representation. Because while I will usually rage a lot about “healing disabilities” in fantasy and scifi media, his case was one where it was understandable. He was not trying to heal himself because he so desperately did not want to be disabled anymore, but because his never properly defined sickness, that was responsible for his disability, was degenerative, and he was going to die very early without a cure. And even with that in mind, once something bad happened because of it – when Sky died – he stopped it, because he realized it was too dangerous. While I had some minor notes of how this was handled in season 1, I thought it was fairly good.

And in the beginning of season 2 I actually kinda liked it too. It was not him who chose the healing, but Jayce. And once Viktor woke up from his coma after the magic healing, his first reaction was to be angry with Jayce about it. Partly because of the danger he understood, but partly also because Jayce violated Viktor’s bodily autonomy. I liked that. It was good.

However, it only went downhill from there. Because whatever anger Viktor had from that moment on, it was gone. Sure, you can argue with Viktor’s actions how much of it came from the core/the hextech/the arcane, and how much came from him. But never the less: He quickly is fine with being healed, and then becomes a sort of villain. And also goes ahead to heal other people of their illnesses and disabilities. Some of them consensually, which is somewhat fine though again for the aforementioned reasons of the eugenic implications of the “healing the disabled” trope has, but in some cases also non-consensually. And that is just… not good.

And then, in the bloody finale, he is kinda the final boss. He, the disabled person. Sure, Ambessa is the leader of the fascists, but Viktor is kinda the final boss.

Sure, I could say something about it being nice to have a clearly queer disabled character. But you know what? All of that pales against the fact that in the end of it all, Viktor has to be sacrificed for the happy end for the ablebodied people.

You know, in some other version of events I would have liked the fact that Jayce does acquire a disability in those last few episodes. While it is not quite clear whether this disability is gonna be chronic or not, it does not matter, because he, too, gets sacrificed. Guess he is no longer as valuable given that he is disabled now. Or at least that is the feeling that comes up.

Conclusion

Look, here is the thing: None of the characters in question are written in a way that is so egregious that if it was just this one example it would be a problem. And hey, some part of me is like: “Hey, at least there are multiple disabled characters,” given that this is still fairly rare in western media. (I am currently getting spoiled by Japanese shows. Ranking of Kings, Sign of Affection and so on are doing a much better job at portraying disability.) But given that most of these characters are villains or end up as villains on the long run, and most of them end up dead? Yeah, fuck Arcane. You do not get points for depicting disabilities in a way that clearly communicates that actually the lives of disabled people are less worthy than those of ablebodied people.

Look, whatever you have been told about Sensitivity Reading: Like editors in book publishing, Sensitivity Readers have little power. All we can do is say: “Hey, this is some really unfortunate implication here. Maybe you should change that.” But authors and publishers can absolutely ignore our feedback. Talking with other sensitivity readers there were a couple of examples where all the feedback was ignored.

I do not know whether Arcane had a Sensitivity Reader who gave feedback on the depiction of disabled people in this show. But I am going to assume if there was, they were very probably ignored. Because yeah, I am sorry. This is just overall not good.

Yes, this show has more disabled characters than most western shows. But again: If those characters are mainly villains, and mainly die by the end of the show… Yeah, sorry, Arcane, you do not get a gold star for including them. In fact, given how the characters are shown, frankly, I would probably have preferred it if the characters had not been disabled in the first place.

[perseephoneee]

secret santa [ficmas day 12] [stiles stilinski x afab!reader]

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ ficmas 2024

@mayfieldss: Since you're extending ficmas may I request stiles stilinski and secret santa plssssss

author's note: my boyfriend said that if teen wolf had modern slang it would be one of the worst things he'd ever watch

playlist:

buy me presents -- sabrina carpenter

christmas caller -- beach bunny

santa, can't you hear me -- kelly clarkson & ariana grande

"Why did Lydia think this was a good idea?" Stiles groaned, opening the 'Secret Santa email.' Scott was sitting on his bed doing homework while Stiles debated the merits of ignoring the email. 

"Because she says this is cheaper than us all having to get gifts for each other."

Stiles ignored that comment and opened the email to receive his assignment. He could think of a few different ideas for the various people in his life. Scott was easy; they were best friends. Isaac could get an embroidered scarf that said, 'I'm bitter for no reason.' Derek could get a new personality, although Stiles didn't know how much that would cost. 

He watched the wheel spin on the automated Secret Santa email, and against his best wishes, he got your name. 

"No, no, no," Stiles kept trying to refresh the page, hoping for a different answer. Scott looked up in personality, getting off the bed to see his screen. He started laughing when he saw your name. 

"You're screwed."

"This is awful!" Stiles spun around in his chair. "I can't get the girl I like a gift; she's going to hate it."

"Probably."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're not helpful?" Stiles looked at Scott, raising his brow. Scott patted him on the shoulder. Stiles hit his shoulder, and it quickly devolved into a wrestling match with Stiles in a headlock and Scott getting kicked in the face. Sheriff Stilinski entered a second later. He took one look at the scene and left a second later. 

After Stiles lost in wrestling, they ended up at the mall. They agreed that it was the most likely place to find a gift. Scott had to shop for Isaac, which Stiles was weirdly envying at this moment. 

"Okay, we're going to split up. Meet in an hour at the food court."

"For food?"

"Yes," Stiles sighed. "And to check progress."

"But also for food?" Scott questioned. "I've been craving a corndog."

"Scott, I need you to lock in," Stiles groaned. He had been staring out at the bright expanse of the mall and was already developing a migraine. "We have a mission."

"You have a mission," Scott nudged Stiles with his shoulder. "I'm doing fine."

"I really hate you," Stiles muttered as Scott took off towards whatever he smelled. Likely a pretzel. He was strangely food-motivated. 

Stiles checked out Bath and Body Works first, but after feeling like he would pass out from the smells, he elected to leave. He wandered into a Brandy Melville and got offended by the sizing (or lack thereof). He then sat on a bench outside the darkest clothing store he'd ever seen. Just as Stiles wished for divine intervention, Lydia came into sight. She beelined over to him immediately. 

"Do I want to know why you're here?" she asked, arms crossed. Stiles squinted up at her.

"Because of your stupid Secret Santa and my stupid assignment," Stiles said, sinking further into his bench. Lydia sat down next to him. 

"You got Y/N, didn't you?"

"How–"

"I know things," Lydia pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Stiles glared at her. She crossed her legs, looking over at Stiles. "I'm going to help you because you make me sad."

"Thanks."

"What have you thought of so far?"

Stiles pondered for a second.

"A sexy candle."

"Okay, I'm going to say no to that immediately," Lydia opened her purse, grabbed out a lipgloss, and reapplied it. Stiles had no idea why she needed to reapply it. "Let's go look around at a few places."

Stiles wished for Scott in that moment. Scott didn't stress him out to no end. Lydia dragged him to eleven different stores and shot down almost all of his ideas. He was ready to quit, move to a different state, and change his name in order to avoid disappointing you at Secret Santa. You were too important to him to disappoint. Right as Stiles' legs started hurting, he saw one store that gave him pause. 

"I'm going in there," Stiles announced, ignoring Lydia's protests. It was a traditional gift store with various accessories, gag gifts, home decor, and more. He avoided the seasonal aisle and the stupid kitchen towels with quotes on them to make a beeline for the kids' section, specifically the stuffed animal section. 

He saw a floppy Snoopy and pulled it off the top shelf. Stiles showed Lydia. 

"What do you think?" Stiles asked. He was out of breath from his quick run into the store. "She loves Snoopy; she mentions it whenever there's a Snoopy thing."

Lydia smiled, taking the Snoopy from him. She gave it a few squishes for good measure. 

"It's perfect; nice job, Stiles."

"Thank you," Stiles beamed. He tossed the Snoopy back and forth between his hands. "Who did you get for Secret Santa?"

"Derek."

"Just get him a new personality."

"I hope you know that both you and Y/N said that," Lydia rolled her eyes. Stiles grinned, moving to the cash register to buy his Snoopy. He paid a little extra to get it wrapped (he can't wrap it for his life) and skipped out of the store. Stiles pulled out his phone to check the time, guessing he should probably be catching back up with Scott. He, of course, ran into you at that exact moment. 

Literally ran into it. 

"Hey, Stiles," you laughed, catching him by the shoulders. His cheeks burned red as he saw who it was. 

"Hey!" he grimaced. "What are you doing here?"

"Probably the same as you, Secret Santa shopping," you shrugged. He liked whatever you did with your hair today. However, Stiles has always loved whatever you did. You eyed the bag in his hand. "Did you get something already?"

"Yeah…I had help from Lydia," Stiles scratched the back of his neck. 

"I'll see you around, Stilinski," you punched his shoulder, running off to who knows where. Stiles was still frozen in place a second later. He shook himself out of his stupor, immediately running to the food court to look for Scott. 

~

Scott and Stiles showed up in matching ugly Christmas sweaters to Lydia's Secret Santa party. They were very proud that they found not one but two of them at Goodwill and felt it was a theme to show up in. Lydia was not amused. 

She almost refused to let them in. 

Stiles was excited to see that you were already there. You had on sparkly tights and a sweater dress, and Stiles was once again struck by the thought that you were the prettiest girl in the room. He suddenly felt very stupid in his sweater. You took notice as he approached. 

"Oh, that's hilarious," you laughed, reading his top. It had all the reindeer decorating the tree on top of each other, saying 'Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, on top of Vixen.'

"That's what I thought. Lydia disagrees," Stiles sat down next to you. You curled up your legs underneath you. 

"Lydia is stressed about the party."

"She throws the best parties; why is she stressed?" Stiles saw a platter of cookies out on the coffee table and took one for himself. He offered you half. 

"Probably because you have to constantly be stressed to throw the best parties." You accepted half of his cookie.

"Touche."

Stiles was gleeful that he could talk to you until the present reveals started. Everyone else showed up, and at forty-five minutes past the hour, Lydia called everyone to attention to exchange gifts. Suddenly, Stiles felt very nervous. 

It was easy for him to get caught up in everyone else's excitement and forget about his own doom, so when he received his gift (some nice plaid shirts from Allison), he got all clammy as he handed you yours. Your eyes lit up as you saw the bag. 

"I knew it was for me," you whispered, recognizing the bag from the mall. Stiles shrugged, wringing his hands. You unwrapped it carefully and then let out a squeal of delight as you saw the Snoopy. Stiles let out a sigh of relief. 

"I know you love Snoopy."

"Not just any Snoopy, Joe Cool Snoopy," you grinned, hugging the plush to your chest. "He's really cool."

"That's why they call him Joe Cool," Stiles answered. Lydia gave him a subtle nod from the other side of the room. Everyone else got to open their gifts, which is when Lydia brought out the champagne she stole from her Mom's stash. Very quickly, everyone got a pleasant buzz that only made the conversation louder. You nudged Stiles and gestured towards the kitchen, Snoopy still in hand. He followed after you. 

You launched yourself at him as soon as you got in the kitchen. 

"The gift is perfect," you mumbled, voice blocked by his shirt. Stiles thought you smelled like peppermint. You pulled away to look at him. "Thank you."

"A-Anything for you," Stiles stuttered, struck by how close you guys were. You didn't seem to notice or mind. 

"I have a gift for you."

"You didn't get me in Secret Santa," Stiles asked, confused. You just shook your head. 

"A gift of my own volition."

You leaned up and kissed him, lips still tasting of champagne. Stiles could do nothing but melt into you. He was dumbstruck when you parted. 

"Merry Christmas, Stiles," you hummed. Stiles grinned, kissing you again. 

"Merry Christmas, Y/N."

[nislost]

unvirgin | chapter 6

warnings: suggestive, people being mean again

(written + smau)

you’re driving back to your apartment after you finished your class. you have 2 hours to get ready and you need to look good. you quickly jump in the shower to shave and take off all that school stench off of you.

after two hours you check how you look in the mirror and you feel good. wearing the two piece outfit your friends voted on that consisted of a tight miniskirt that matched the cropped jacket you had and platform heels because who are you without your heels?

you rush out the door and make your way to the library after you notice you’re 5 minutes late. at least you’ll be fashionably late! you walk into the library searching for the black haired boy and when you do you smile walking your way over. tapping jeno on his shoulder he turns around startled.

“sorry i’m late” you whisper giving him an apologetic smile. “i-it’s fine don’t worry” he whispers before clearing his voice his eyes looking everywhere but you. you giggle at his nervous state before sitting in the empty seat next to him. you noticed he looked good really good…why? well he’s wearing the number 1 kitty cat defeater. gray sweatpants and a matching hoodie.

“so what did you need help with?” jeno asks softly not to bother others around. “everything” you groan “i swear math is my worst enemy” he chuckles at your words. “okay let���s start from the beginning of the topic we’re currently learning” he says as he takes out a stack of textbooks from his bag causing your jaw to drop.

your reaction makes him giggle which in return causes you to pout. “stop laughing at my pain” you mutter. you prepare mentally and physically for the time you’ll be spending here.

30 minutes in your brain is hurting and you’re completely frustrated. you begin working on a problem jeno gave you until your ears pick up a conversation behind you “omg did you see y/n with jeno?” one voice says “omg yeah i bet she’s trying to get into his pants” the other voice replies with a giggle. you can’t blame them you have a reputation, but it doesn’t give them the right to talk about you like that. “she’s such a fucking slut. poor jeno” the first voice says.

jeno notices your mood change and the conversation behind him. “i heard she fucked the principal and that’s why she’s here” they just kept going. they were wrong the reason you even got into this university was because you (kinda) tried in high school. don’t get you wrong you never studied or anything you just did the bare minimum and that got you a 3.4 gpa.

your friends wondered what happened since then and it’s just because you lost motivation and wanted to have more fun, but look where that landed you. you get up from your seat causing jeno to look at you confused and worried. you give him a smile “i’ll be right back” you state before you walking over to where those girls were.

seeing you in front of them made them shocked “what? you can talk shit about me behind my back why not in my face” you raise your brow waiting for them to respond. they just look at each other before one of them finally speaks up. “w-well it’s not like we’re wrong! look at yourself you dress like a prostitute” she spits out. the other girl taps her friend and points somewhere behind you. you turn around confused and see jeno.

“what’s going on here?” he asks. both the girls in front of you begin to stutter “n-nothing” “nothing at all! we’re just talking about how much we love y/n’s outfit” you roll your eyes at their words. jeno just hums in response before grabbing your arm and taking you back to your table. “anyways let’s continue our tutoring. don’t let anyone distract you.” he says giving you back your pencil.

you sigh before continuing solving the equations given.

2 hours pass and you’ve grown tired. “do you think we can stop for today?” you ask letting out a yawn. jeno chuckles before nodding. “oh i forgot to ask earlier but what would you want in return for you helping me? money, food or something else? i’m okay with doing anything” you turn to him. jeno ponders seeing if there is anything you could possibly help or do for him.

“can- no never mind that’s too embarrassing to ask for” he says blushing and looking away. this interests you a lot and makes you wonder. “just ask i already said id do anything” you say softly somewhat implying something. “i-i can’t” he stutters his nervousness makes you grin. you place a hand on his thigh to “comfort” him and it causes him to flinch. “jeno you can tell me” you pout tilting your head. he looks at the hand on his thigh then up at you.

“i have no experience…in you know” he mutters because you could hardly hear him you lean in closer “repeat what you said louder” he looks at you all flustered which makes something purr and it’s definitely not your pet cat at home. “can you h-help me um” he groans “take your time baby” you giggle. his ears perk up at the nickname you didn’t even realize you said.

“can you um unvirgin me?” he says softly looking at you with a vulnerable expression. you can’t help but giggle “unvirgin? seriously?” he looks at you embarrassed. “jeno are you sure? wouldn’t you want to save something like that for someone special?” you giggle again “i have no experience and everyone around our age has at least done it once and all my friends tease me” he looks at you with a pleading gaze.

“fine. i’ll unvirgin you, but only if i pass a math test. just so that’ll give you time to think this through” you stand up. jeno quickly nods before standing up as well and walking you to your car. “u-uh ill text you about our next session” he stutters slightly which makes him want to punch himself. you nod before driving off.

previous / next

taglist: @jenoleeaesthetic @yukisroom97 @4yunogf @iloveyou200 @antifrggile @t-102 @n0hyuck @cigarettesafterjae @bellymellyyyy @dudekiss3r @puzzlepiece-mp3 @nctdreamchaser @snoopyjimin @taeeflwrr @whothefvckami @minkyuncutie @sungsgirl @sunghoonsgfreal @toroufriteh @cookydream @flamingi @purrzitas @grassbutneo

[clairedaring]

Hi! I saw that you've read Euthanasia, and I had a question after watching episode 7 of Spare Me Your Mercy. I'm curious about the framing of Boss' death and what space the novel gives to tease out the complexities of euthanasia and disability? As a disabled watcher, I come to discussions of euthanasia outside terminal illness quite wary. Though I'm certainly coming from a Western context where euthanasia and disability is a very sensitive topic and the conversation might look pretty different in Thailand. The framing in the show felt at the very least rushed in terms of building any nuance into the conversation so far, so I'm curious if and how the novel explores the complexities of this.

Hi Shane 💖

To be honest I think that the series is doing far better in terms of show the complexities than the books in terms of euthanasia (i know, unbelievable but bare with me for a second here friend).

So.... the biggest difference the series has made so far is changing the roles between Somsak and Boss. In the book, Somsak was the main culprit and Boss was his accomplice in the way that Boss/Boze also idolises Kan and his ideals -> Somsak convinced Boss to join him in his quest to euthanise patients.

And if you ask what Doctor Somsak's motivation is? There isn't more to it as much as he believes in the same thing as Kan and Kan coming to the hospital is now a future scapegoat for him.

In the novel, Kan also deliberately euthanised/murdered Dr. Somsak when he was in the hospital after they were both injured in their gun fight (similar to what happened to Boss) (pinging @waitmyturtles who may be interested to know that novel!Kan wasn't just a morally grey ass, he really did fuck up there and genuinely did not deserve to end up with Wasan where they left them in the first novel).

But there wasn't a dramatic conversation between them like how Boss asked Kan to do kill him. No, like novel!Kan straight up murdered Somsak to keep him from telling everyone his secret (granted it was his only murder and he did go to prison for it but yeah still novel!Kan was... something else).

So in this sense I think the series has already done much better with the topic of euthanasia, opening up more sides to the debates whereas the novel only touches upon euthanasia in a very surface level way to move forward with its the murder mystery plot.

It's doing it very clumsily for sure but for instance I like that Boss's background story represented how his mother got caregiver burnout and in a country where public healthcare is not as developed and there aren't much welfare or support schemes for people living in rural areas, it's not uncommon to see this seemingly selfish thinking from people around terminally ill/permanently disabled people. It's selfish and inherently discriminatory but it's a raw representation of the painfully ugly mindset people may harbour but will never say it out loud in public.

I'm in no way defending this series by the way, I'm simply saying that if you're looking for more nuances and complexities on the topic of euthanasia in the novels, they're definitely not going to offer that. I would say that the novels offer more complexities in the development of the relationship between Kan and Wasan because it's constructed in a way that's much more believable for reader audience.

The series... I think EP.7 tried a little too much with incorporating assisted suicide into euthanasia which is only going to make it much more controversial.

I hope these little novel spoilers help and answer some of your questions. I really can't offer anything from the novels in terms of disability because it wasn't even mentioned once ಥ_ಥ

[lightningant]

There's a lot of fluff about how Harry shows no sign of trauma from his upbringing but maybe it's because I was neglected and often spoken of as extremely well-adjusted, but to me Harry seems to be a pretty natural response to a combination of neglect and a stable upbringing? He's not like. Traumatized. But a lot of people just develop maladaptive habits from these circumstances. Like:

Dissociative tendencies. I know this one is not intentional, but he shows constant lack of focus which interferes with his schooling and will often just space out and stare at things. This is used as a device to point the reader towards plot relevant items and turn them from irrelevant details, but it is something he does.

Harry does not actually distrust adults outright at first! He goes to teachers for help! But he tends to disrespect them, and struggles to think of adults as figures of authority the moment they slip up. Hagrid's bumbling chaos, Quirrell's nerves, Snape beefing with an 11-year-old, McGonagall not taking his Very Real Concerns seriously, Vernon's bluster, these are moments Harry discards their authority - that child thought McGonagall was going to burn him at the stake at first, but was barely shaken by her later. And it makes sense! You are a powerless child, you are looked down on, but the "consequences" you face are things you got used to and feel are normal, so you take strength from being unafraid of punishment.

A lot of fluff is made about abuse victims and independence because yeah, obviously, but I do think a lot of his savior/martyr complex is egged on by his servile role; he lived his entire life apart from the Dursleys, but they relied on him. To be crude, when someone shits the bed he puts it in the washer. And I do think he takes satisfaction in being the best man for the job, and I do think that can breed a whole host of mental problems that will lead you to a fated suicide duel with a Dark Lord

The books are mean-spirited in general, but he learned a lot of the fundamentals on engaging with the world from the Dursleys. He's pretty consistently petty and vindictive! And I genuinely believe Harry is, personally, as a character, fatphobic (in addition to the doylist text being fatphobic), because it was something Dudley gets criticized for and thus something that proves Dudley isn't infallible, and he would have definitely fixated on it and felt comfortable doing so, because that's just how the Dursleys talk about people.

For that matter, he is in general stifled by the inner lives of others - he's somehow the most socially stunted person in a trio with Hermoine in it. He is at all times deeply uncomfortable by the thought that other people have feelings and motivations, and reifies people with strong, clear roles in his life, and a lot of his development is realizing there are people behind those roles. I stand by the fact that Harry naming a child after Snape is a symptom of unaddressed mental illness.

This boy is so unbelievably susceptible to mania. I'll acknowledge a lot of his behaviour is teenage bull-headedness but the way the extremes of "I need to be doing something Now" and catastrophizing only gets worse...You know when he's 30 he's going to get prescribed mood stabilizers

And these are all things that can spiral into really toxic and self-destructive behaviour, which we know because that's what happens in the books. I think part of pushing his trauma in fanfiction is accepting that sometimes when someone is traumatized they develop an awful personality instead of PTSD.

(You may now reread this entire post and think about Tom Riddle.)

[splonk-fox]

Ya know, with the hindsight I have now, I think I know why I grew so attached to The Chosen One's character, and that's primarily because he basically falls into none of the cliches that Alan's other villains do.

Alan seems to have a problem when it comes to writing compelling antagonists. With The Dark Lord he was incredibly flat and essentially served as little more than a plot device that is only interesting because of how fans have interpretated his character.

With King Orange and Victim, both of their motives boil down to "someone died, now I'm mad"

Purple sort of breaks this, as his motive is more tied to wanting his father to be proud of him, his mother being dead just so happening to be a part of that.

With Chosen though? None of that is really present. He didn't experience some horrible tragedy that lead to him going off the deep end. He started off that way and carved a slow path to redemption from there. Sure I guess you could argue a big push for his redemption was the Dark Lord's actions, but that kind of makes him an inverse of the typical norm. Normally it's the negative influence that leads to the bad guy becoming bad, but in Chosen's case, it's Dark's negative influence that allows him to turn around for the better.

It feels a lot more grounded and realistic. Chosen's redemption doesn't happen instantly, he doesn't turn on Dark immediately, even now his actions still haunt him. To have a character who's depth doesn't rely on one of their loved ones dying as a plot device is incredibly refreshing, and it makes me wish we got to see more of that.

TLDR; Chosen still has one of the best character arcs in the entire Animator vs. Animation series despite him being one of the first to have one.

[inkk-tv]

[ ꜰᴏᴏᴛʙᴀʟʟ ᴘᴜʙ ɢᴏʟꜰ : ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ]

Admittedly, it's only when she's standing in the park across from the first pub that she realises exactly what she's gotten herself into. "This feels unfair." "Aw, come on Luce," Arthur says with half a smile, swapping his t-shirt for their team kit. "Have a bit of faith."

in which: Lucy is reluctantly recruited into Chris' pub golf video at the last minute, but it turns out to be very worth it.

4.7k words [ masterlist ]

[oc x arthurtv x chrismd] [warnings: excessive drinking, sexual inudendos]

There’s a certain risk that comes with renting an office in a building full of youtubers. Mainly being ambushed in the kitchen by a camera for a reaction or her two cents on whatever challenge video was underway is not an uncommon occurrence. Although, being fully roped into a video is never too far out of the realm of possibility. 

Luckily, there’s only one person with the gaul to break into her office, and that’s Chris. 

It’s been affectionately nicknamed, ‘the fishbowl’.

Sitting right on the hallway's bend, with two walls and a giant door of nothing but glass that means anyone who steps out the lift can see right into her office. Hence the name. Once she showed up to find someone had stuck fish and bubble stickers all over the windows- she’s pretty sure it was Sam, who does all her captioning, but she’s never gotten him to confess it.

It’s a pretty decent workspace despite the lack of privacy. Lucy’s desk is off to one side, and the three desks for her London-based employees are in a little cluster to the right of it. Only Shelly, the head editor and Lucy had been in today, but it’s nearing five pm and Shelly had headed off about twenty minutes prior, so it’s just Lucy hauled up alone working on a script as she hides from the rest of the building.

Chris invites himself in. As always. For some reason, the wall of glass just doesn’t present the same barrier to him as it does to everyone else. 

She glances up as the door hinges open, the soundproofing scraps against the carpet before closing with a soft click. There’s something a little frantic in his expression- not exactly panic, but stress maybe- and he’s got a white monster energy can that's dripping condensation in one hand and a takeaway bag from the fish and chip shop two blocks over that uses the perfect amount of salt, in the other.

Lucy is no fool. She knows a bribe when she sees one. "No."

All the tension leaks from his shoulders as Chris heaves a defeated sigh, falling back onto the two seater couch just inside the door. "But I haven't even asked yet."

"But you brought me an incentive." She points out and Chris leans over to thunk the can down on the corner of her desk he could reach. Lucy scrunches her nose up at the ring of water that settles underneath it. "You didn't even do that last time and that involved having footballs booted at me for three hours."

Objectively, Lucy has fun on the ChrisMD channel. She’d always been an active person and while the dreams of being a professional athlete did not work out for her like many others, she does still like sports, especially if they’re team based. Chris’s videos are perhaps the most fun variant of them she’s experienced since quitting her Sunday league team back in uni. 

But Lucy drew a hard line in the sand after the break up.

The problem with having fun on Chris’ videos, is that somewhere along the line, wires got a bit crossed. Lucy isn’t really all too sure when it happened, but she remembers realising. Looking at Chris, and realising she fancied him. It was four months before, and she spent all of it agonising over every conversation they had, kicking herself for liking a taken man, beating herself up over every word or glance as the guilt of it all ate away at her. 

Then he was single and the biggest motivator for Lucy to shut her fucking mouth and stomp down her feelings, she got a little worried things would run away from her. She wasn’t keen to make a mess of things, in private or on the internet, so she took a step back. 

It does help that in her last appearance on the ChrisMD channel, she took a particularly solid shot from Simon Minter to the stomach during the World Cup Ball video. A few days later, Lucy's flatmate had bullied her into going to A and E where they found out she’d managed to acquire a cracked rib. 

Simon- bless him- still apologises every time she runs into him. 

Lucy doesn’t know how to thank him for giving her a reasonable excuse to avoid Chris for an extended period of time.

"You had fun." Chris points out with a roll of his eyes, unpacking the takeaway bag to set two boxes on the coffee table in front of him, opening one and digging into a calamari meal.

"And a broken bone."

Another sigh. "This isn't goal keeping."

Lucy's hands still over her keyboard, little cursor blinking on page is of what was going to be a 12 page script. She huffs a breath, telling herself that she will at least hear the man out. 

It was a stupid thing really, fancying him. It’s probably one of those prolonged exposure things, she spent so much time with him that things got blurry in her mind. But the controlled exposure has been working. No more nights out if he was going and no one on one hang outs for the past few months have really helped her get a handle on things. Make the lines of platonic and romantic a little clearer in her head. 

Even if he’s grown a beard that looks annoyingly good on him. She’s allowed to appreciate it without fancying him. Or at least, that’s how she tries to tell her flatmate. 

Lucy had put measures in place, a little bit of distance to get over her puppy crush and they had been working. 

The little bubbliness she used to get has been smothered in the past few months. They’d done Chip’s karting race together just fine and she’s been significantly more invested in the occasional hinge date she secures. Lucy’s building her way up towards nights out again, knowing that he’ll be there and trusting her mouth to not run away from her. Maybe filming with him would be good- keeping her contained to the version of herself that the internet is allowed to see, the version that never fancied one of her coworkers. 

When she pushes her chair out from the desk and turns to level Chris with a look, considering it for a few long moments before sighing and looking up to the ceiling, already regretting what she hasn't agreed to yet. There's a smile on Chris' face - he knows he's won. Apparently, Ciaran Carlin managed to snag himself a case of food poisoning the day of Chris' 'pub golf' shoot ("thought you did football content" - "Its football themed.") so they were down one whole player. Hence why Chris was there, a few moments from dropping to his knees to beg. 

Lucy is, admittedly an outlier amongst the office. At least in terms of content creation. It's actually the Fellas Studio building, but those who invested in the business to help the boys get it up and running, like Chris and Lucy, have their own office space inside. She makes video essays with the occasional social commentary video mixed in - a far cry from Chris' football challenges or the min-maxing style of videos that seems to have taken over the platform in the last few years.

So their friendship has stayed mostly off camera, as she doesn’t often have people on her main channel, posting occasional vlogs on her second channel but he’s only ever made the cut once or twice. The most the internet knows of Lucy Bell and Chris Dixon is that he’s roped her into a few football challenges over the years. 

When it comes to Chris’s channel, Lucy does make for a good feature. She’s just tipped over four million subscribers in the last few months, with almost a completely different audience, so it brings in a lot of new viewers. She’s not half bad at football either, a few years playing football in uni meant she could keep up with most of the UK YouTube scene if Chris begged nicely enough. 

"Alright, but it’s an extra twenty quid for each time you bite me." 

The biting gets her every time. She’s always had a bit of a thing for it, teeth marks and hickeys. It’s a condition that Lucy adds to save her own sanity more than anything.

See, there’s something about Chris when he’s drunk that just makes the man want to bite. Sink his teeth into whichever friend is closest after a pint or two. Doesn’t matter where, hand arm or neck- he’s even gone for her ear once. He’s not handsy per-say, because none of it was sexual really, but it couldn’t be called clingy either because he got way too mean.  

Cuteness aggression seems to fit the bill. But no matter what someone was to call it, the fact is, Chris gets his teeth out when he’s drinking.

Maybe charging him for it will be enough to remind him not to.

Chris grins. "Done." 

Turns out, the pub golf ‘night-out’ she had been lured into starts at one pm. 

Admittedly, it's only when she's standing in the park across from the first pub that she realises exactly what she's gotten herself into. "This feels unfair."

The line up was clearly in no way designed for fairness. With the 'English team' consisting of Lucy, Chris and Arthur-TV, going against the 'German Team' of Stephen Tries, Bambino Becky and Harry Wroetoshaw.

Now Lucy isn’t a lightweight- at least not proportionally. For a woman of five five, she could hold her drink. But Chris Dixon on the other hand, who was the same height, most definitely was a lightweight. There was not a whole lot of faith to be put in their alcohol tolerance.

"Aw, come on Luce," Arthur says, swapping his t-shirt for their team kit. "Have a bit of faith."

She ducks her head to hide the quick frown that flashes over her face. There’s only two people who call her ‘Luce’ and that’s Chris and her flatmate, Spencer. It’s obvious where he’s picked it up from and the thought of Chris chatting about her to one of his friends with such familiarity is enough to make her stomach flutter. Today was not going to be good. 

Lucy's met Arthur before, in passing. At parties or events, seen him at the office once or twice when he'd presumedly come to film with someone. He’s good friends with George and Arthur Hill too. She knows him and Chris have been mates since school, and that he's one of the most frequent victims of the ChrisMD channel. Miraculously, she's never ended up on a set with him before.

She hopes he holds his drink well.

"A little hard to have faith when Becky and Harry are gonna drink us under the table." She says, thumbing at the team jersey she’s been given.

It’s soft, more so than she expected. 

Football has never much been Lucy’s thing. She was on a team during her uni years, but that was more social than competitive. She owns a couple of kits, her old uni jersey that was mainly a work shirt and the Brighton Jersey her brother bought her for Christmas one year- Lucy makes sure to wear it whenever she watches a game. But that’s about the extent of it, she’s never had much reason to go buy an official kit. 

But apparently for the football-ification of pub golf, team jerseys were a must. 

The tag says it’s their away kit from the 1990 world cup and the fabric is so abrasively red, Lucy feels like a stop sign when she pulls it on. It doesn’t help that it was originally bought for Ciaran, so it’s two sizes too large. Sadly it completely tanks her outfit, the black skater skirt and platform mary-janes with lacy white socks had gone so much better with the cosy white knit sweater she’d started the day in, but it does sort of work. Even if it makes her look like a pick-me girl. 

The collar slips about on her shoulders and Lucy pulls the collar about a little, trying to make it sit properly, which apparently, Chris takes as an invitation. 

He comes up from behind and drapes his arms over her shoulders- not exactly unusual behaviour from him, but it does typically take a few more drinks. There’s not even a moment of hesitation before Chris sinks his teeth into the meat of her shoulder, biting down. Not hard enough to hurt exactly, more like a pinch. 

She doesn’t yelp but grunts a little, swatting at his hair to duck out of his grip. When he backs off, there’s a dark semi-circle on the jersey, highlighting where he’d bitten at the material. “Right. That’s twenty quid then.”

Chris blinks, then rolls his eyes. “What? No, come one. We haven’t even started filming yet.”

He’s smiling though, watching as Lucy digs a black marker out of her purse and bites the lid off to draw a thick line on the inside of her right forearm. “A deal is a deal, Chris.”

“We’ll if we’re keeping track like that, someone else has to be in charge of the pen.” He plucks it from her fingers and Lucy goes to swipe it back but he pulls it up high above both their heads. 

She could snatch it back. They’re about the same height; every time someone whips out a tape measure they end up with a different answer to who is taller, so it always depends on the shoes. Today, she’s even wearing platforms with more than enough heel to beat out Chris' white air forces but Lucy’s not sacrificing a single sliver of her dignity to jump for the marker. 

Perhaps realising that she’s not taking the bait, he holds it out to Arthur instead, who has been watching them with a raised eyebrow. “What’s this then?”

“Lucy agreed to be in the video, if I paid her twenty pounds each time I bit her.” Chris says, looking a little proud of himself for some reason, as if wrangling her into a video was some sort of impressive feat. “But I don’t trust her to not just draw a bunch of lines.”

“Damn. That’s smart, you’ll make a couple hundred quid today, easy.” Arthur plucks the marker out of Chris’ fingers and looks at it a little funny. “Will you give me twenty every time you bite me?”

The marker is tucked away into the pocket of his shorts with a grin. 

“You were coming no matter what.”

“With you looking like that, damn right I was.” Arthur holds his hand up for a high-five, probably more of a reflex than anything. Chris doesn't go for it, but Lucy does, swinging up to her tiptoes, to clap her palm against his.

“Come on,” He grins at Lucy, keeping their hands clasped for a few seconds with the momentum and it has her feeling a little better about the afternoon ahead.

One of the film crew, Sam she thinks his name is, waves Lucy over to mic her up. They make their way through the ‘before game interviews’, with the warning they will be spliced with the aftermath that was to be recorded at the last pub.

"Are you going to enjoy today?" Chris pokes the mic against the tip of her nose and Lucy scrunches it up a little at the feeling of scratchy foam.

"Considering I was bribed to be here, no." She plays the reluctant friend well, but they both know she’d been happy to help Chris out in his time of crisis and that she probably wouldn’t end up chasing him up about the money she was supposedly charging him per bite.

The first two holes (“It’s Goal, Luce. Use the right terminology.”) left their team with a rather bleak outlook.

Lucy’s played enough drinking games in her life to be able to down a pint in one go, so that isn’t a problem. She chugs the IPA, so while it’s down in one, Lucy is left with a bitter taste in her mouth, complaining to the table that if she was forced to drink beer, it should at least be lager. Arthur and Chris both down theirs in one, but are cautioned for shit jokes and chose to do a shot each instead of taking the additional points. 

The second pub is no hands, white sambuca shots, but they get a bench so it’s not much hassle to lean down and get her lips around the glass rim and knock it back.

But when they’re done, and Arthur’s wandered off, her, Chris and Harry pounce on his backpack to turn it inside out. It makes her feel like she’s back in secondary playing silly pranks when someone leaves their bag unattended. Tragically he comes back with the news that he’s thrown up. Twice. There’s an attempt to blame the McDonalds wrap he’d scranned a bit too quickly but Calfreezey is not a forgiving referee and they are penalised three points, leaving them at seven as Chris has failed to down his shot in one. 

“We are not winning that dominos pizza.” Arthur whines, frowning down at his inside out bag.

Lucy holds her hands out, an unspoken gesture that he accepts with a smile and starts piling his belongings into her hands. “Cheer up Mr.Television. I’ll Deliveroo one to the last pub.”

“And ruin Chris’ incentive? Where’s your competitive spirit Miss Bell?” He quips back, grabbing a fist full of his bag’s canvas and turning it back out the right way, shoving his pencil case and jacket back into it. 

There’s an instinct to roll her eyes at the last name but fair is fair. She did sort of do it to him first. “I think winning for us is already a lost cause. Becky and Harry can outdrink us all.”

Arthur zips his bag up and swings it over his shoulders, heading for the door but glancing back at her as he speaks. “Not Stephen?”

“He’s more of a mascot I think.” Lucy muses, skipping up to his side and out the door as he holds it with one hand. “Like Chris.”

“Fair enough, they are the two lightweights.” He says, jutting his chin out to where Chris and Stephen were squabbling a good hundred metres up the footpath. “You seem a bit better at handling the beers than Chris to be honest.”

She can’t quite stop the way her nose scrunches at the memories of parties and chundering in bushes out the front of train stations. Lucy hisses through her teeth. “Yeah, I had a few too many nights out in Uni. Spiked my tolerance.”

There’s this little quirk of Arthur’s head, like he’s a curious cat that’s been offered a toy mouse to play with. “I didn’t know you went to uni, what did you study?”

“Journalism. Hence the video essays- if you know what kind of videos I do.”

“Not to brag, but I'm kind of subscribed.” He puts on a little bit of a voice, an impression of the typical ‘nice guy’ when he says it with an exaggerated roll of the eyes that earns a smile.

“Really?” This time it’s Lucy who’s tilting her head, peering up at him a little from under the few loose strands of hair that hang over her forehead and it makes Arthur sort of sheepish. 

“Oh yeah,” He pulls out his phone and opens the youtube app. She’s in his subscriptions tab, along the top bar even. “I really like the rage bait one. And the one about the barbie movies.” 

“You actually watch my videos?” He must do. The rage bait one was recent but Lucy’s deep-dive into the animated barbie movies of the early two-thousands was from her uni days, buried under six years of more recent uploads. 

“Yeah, they’re good. Informative, funny.”

Lucy blushes. “Flattery gets you everywhere, Arthur. I’ll check out your channel after today, promise.”

“It’s not much, a lot of reality TV content- hence the name. I started with Airline freakouts and ended up with ninety-day fiancé.” He holds out his phone for her to take with his own channel pulled up. 

She flicks though, and it is admittedly a lot of ninety-day fiancé, but when she flicks the ‘popular’ filter on, some of the thumbnails look kind of familiar. “Wait, like the old ‘Airline UK’ show? I used to watch some of those.”

Arthur grins. “Really?”

“Yeah, just compilations of the passengers screaming at the easy jet desk.” 

There’s a mental note to watch them when she gets home (pr depending on how drunk she ends up, tomorrow) and see if they’re familiar. 

It happens every now and then, watching a video then realising years later you’ve just met the person who made it. A couple of months after meeting George Clarkey at the gym she realised she’d watched him chase a beep around his garage on tiktok a year earlier.

“Maybe you saw some of mine.” Arthur offers a little shyly, as if he’s nervous about suggesting it. “They did decent numbers. It’s how I got started with youtube.”

“Yeah?”

He hums in agreement. “Needed something to pay the bills in Uni and youtube ended up being way more fun than Law.”

Lucy can’t help the judgemental tone that sneaks into her voice. “You studied Law?”

“Don’t sound so surprised.” He scoffs with a smile.

“No you’re just nicer than all the other law students I met while in Uni. Most of them were right pricks.”

Especially the one she’d dated in second year. He’d been good at first, but after a couple of pints he was anyone's. The guy played up on her all the time and it wasn’t until he tried hitting on the first year who’d just moved into Lucy’s student Accommodation that she finally called it off. 

After that, all the law students who tried to chat her up at the Uni bars left a bitter taste in her mouth. 

Not Arthur though. He isn’t quite a law student, she supposes, he’s a youtuber and Lucy does get on well with most of the UK scene. They were a good bunch and any of the dickheads were pretty easy to weed out- there is a couple she fully avoids, simply because she couldn’t be arsed putting up with them. Lucy scribbles Arthur’s name on the mental list of people she wouldn’t mind chatting to at the next party. 

He’s got decent chat, certainly better than some of the dull people she’s put up with out of politeness and when he smiles, it’s a flash of pearly white. Teeth that all line up perfect- save for his pointed canines. She could stand to see it a bit more often, carve out some space for it in her chest amongst the fluttering of butterflies. “Flattery gets you everywhere, Luce.”

“Hurry up you two, stop dawdling!” Chris shouts from out the front of pub number three. 

They wave him off with a few jeered ‘yeah, yeah’s but do pick up the pace a little. 

“I meant to ask earlier,” Arthur says. “Want to put your purse in my bag? it looks like it’s bothering you.”

Her purse has been bothering her. It was the one she’d taken into the office and was more for fashion than function, a little black leather crossbody bag that she’s had over one shoulder so it doesn't make her boobs look weird on camera. It’s only really got her phone, earbuds and keys in it. She’s been keeping it at her hip with one hand but it’s getting tiring. “Yeah, thanks Arthur.” 

He tucks it away gently, with much more care than he’d had with his own portable charger and pencil case a few minutes earlier. Arthur’s sweeter than she expected. 

Not many of the youtube boys were sweet. Nice, friendly even, but part of being amongst them meant she could take the banter and hard hitting. Catch hurled comments that strangers would say border on cruel with her bleeding hands and hurl them back. There’s an added layer, being a woman online appearing on channels with a male dominated audience. A thick oily sheen that taints the comments of collab videos. 

But Lucy has managed to find the youtubers she could stomach, some of which she spends more time with than others. George is her gym buddy, even if he’s been slacking lately. Will lacks enough of a social life that he tends to rot in the office just as late as she does so they always end up ordering Deliveroo and shit talking for an extra hour or two. She doesn’t mind the occasional pint with Harry or Tobi either. They’re all sweet, but sweet enough that it's threatening to make her blush? Well, only Chris made that far. 

Lucy tucks that thought away and settles into the seat at the end of the table, tapping the toes of her shoes together idly as the production team set up go-pros and camera angles.

Pub number three was goalie rules. Six seconds to down a pint and it had to be done with keeper gloves. 

All six sets set on the table are Large and it looks utterly ridiculous when they all don the gloves. Black and green leathery material that’s oddly padded on the inside, it feels weird enough that it sort of captivates her for a few moments, the new sensation against her hands. Lucy keeps balling her fists up then splaying her fingers again, listening to the scrunch of them before pressing her hands flat against the table to feel the padding compress and spring back up slightly when she released the pressure. 

Arthur has a similar reaction, although he just starts running his hands over everything. From the wooden table to his own legs. Down Lucy’s right forearm where it rests on the table, over Chris’s head. The latter of which, he does so much that it actually gets a reaction, which Lucy is starting to think most of Arthur’s oddities don’t.

“Stop rubbing my head!” Chris squeaks, ducking away from Arthur’s widespread palms that are messing up his quiff. “Rub the head I want to be rubbed!”

Lucy snorts into her keeper glove when Chris gestures rudely to his crotch and Stephen goes to kick it from under the table. 

Thankfully, before things can devolve into more dick jokes, a member of Chris’s team brings over a tray of pints. 

Lucy and Arthur both get it down in one, but Chris fails- laughing after about an inch and having to set the drink down. Easy to say, no one is impressed and he earns them a yellow card for time wasting.

“How have you done worse than the females?” Arthur jokes, setting Chris’ still half full glass between Lucy and Becky’s empty ones. 

“We’ll take ourselves back to the kitchen.” Becky declares, raising a hand for a high five that Arthur meets- an assurance that it’s all jokes- before leaning in to stage whisper to Lucy. “There might be pints in there.”

Despite England's mostly good performance, Calfreezy once again proves that he’s out to get them as he issues two yellows and a red card. Lucy and Chris take the penalty shots- tequila upon request- and there’s three points added to their tally as well. 

It burns the back of her mouth and stings against her tongue. Whichever production member had fetched their shots did not return with the curiosity of a chaser. Still, it’s easier to down than a pint so Lucy takes what she can get. 

Although, everyone seems to be under the impression that it’s going to finish her. Probably because she keels over coughing after getting it down. It’s the closest Lucy’s come to spitting out a drink all afternoon, which is saying something considering the IPA at the first pub was utter shit. 

Her reaction has Steven so confident in his team’s performance that he starts demanding forfeits, anything from shots of the winners choice to public spankings in ‘piccadilly square’.

While Lucy focuses on not tripping over the drag of her platform shoes, the taste of tequila lingers on her tongue and haunts her all the way to the next pub. 

[ masterlist ] [ part two, coming soon... ]

ink note: and we are underway! thanks so much for reading! feel free to send asks about the fic or check out the notes at the bottom of Lucy's masterlist to see how this fic is going to develop.

[ if you would like to be added to the fic's tag list, let me know in an ask and you'll be tagged when each chapter goes up :) ]