#i have like a million other things to do why am i adding more to the pile

[tapwater118]

cw: blood, gore (i guess), cannibaIism

this idea came to me in a dream, and i had to get it down on the canvas

saw except she’s like a cannibaI butcher/chef who harvests her friends’ bodies and then bakes them into her delicious treats.

she also tricks her friends into eating them because?? i haven’t decided yet. maybe she is just a bit messed up in the head

why saw? idk, ask my sleeping self. (unconscious fear garden inspirations probably. these pointy ladies always doin weird shit)

yeah

individuals under here

[andypantsx3]

LOADS OF FUN : TODOROKI x READER

SUMMARY: After moving into your first apartment together, Shouto seems more amorous than ever. You're not sure why—but when he comes home to you doing a load of laundry, more than your clothes are about to get tumbled. TAGS/WARNINGS: nsft (18+ only, minors please dni!), pro hero au, gn + afab reader, established relationship, fluff, emotional sex, table sex, cunnilingus, the shouto domesticity kink agenda goes absolutely crazy in this one lol (2.8k) NOTES: This piece is part of my pretty boy summer Shouto x Reader collab! Please go check out the other incredible fics people have written over the course of the summer; you will absolutely die over how good they are. This fic was also made possible through donations to the Fics for Gaza project. I cannot thank everyone who donated to one of the charities enough, as well as those who organized, reblogged, discussed, and got the word out. Lastly, I am so grateful for your immeasurable patience with me as I take time between fics to manage my workload, I hope I'm not too out of practice here lol. In summary: thank you, thank you, a million times thank you.

The sound of the door opening was hidden in the thump and glug of the washing machine starting its spin cycle.

Halfway across the house, you were oblivious—you had the clean laundry spread out on the kitchen table, hunting through the pile trying to match one of Shouto’s socks to another that seemed to have vanished into that mysterious void which opens somewhere between the laundry basket and the dryer. One of his shirts was half-folded over your shoulder, abandoned in favor of the sock search.

The rest of your things were still mostly tangled together on the table, warm and fresh and cottony, the few shirts you’d already folded sagging off the kitchen chairs.

It still gave you a little thrill—even several weeks after you’d moved in together—to see Shouto’s things twined up with yours—his enormous socks dwarfing yours, your sweaters clinging to the occasional piece of his hero suit that hadn’t seen enough action to need his agency’s industrial cleaners.

It all added to your sense of satisfaction with your afternoon—a frosty weekend day you’d spent cozy indoors, moving slowly and leisurely through some chores. A pot of soup simmered on the stove, and your favorite playlist worked itself through in lazy loops. Shouto was due off his rotation soon, and you hummed contentedly to yourself, entertaining pleased little fantasies of curling up with him for the rest of the weekend.

Which of course is when something moved in the corner of your eye. Your hum sawed up into a strangled screech, and you whipped around, flailing. Shouto’s sock launched itself full force at the intruder before you even registered you’d thrown it. In your shock, your leg caught against the table and you went stumbling—

—right into a pair of warm hands that caught you about the waist.

Your hands were on the man’s shoulders to push him off before you realized you recognized the touch—and that you’d caught sight of a distinct mop of scarlet and white hair as you’d whipped around.

“Shouto! Again?” you scolded reflexively, even as your heartbeat stuttered out of its wild kick into high gear. You tipped your head back to stare your boyfriend in the face, shoulders slumping in relief, letting him take some of your weight.

Shouto peered down at you, that tiny scrunch between his brows that indicated concern. “Are you alright, love?”

Your heartbeat pounded thunderously in your chest. “I’m—fine. But my god we need to get you a bell. I almost peed.”

Shouto’s mouth shifted minutely into something that might not have registered in anyone else’s face but was most definitely a regretful downturn on his. He looked even more unfairly beautiful than when he’d left you this morning—a little flushed and windswept from the unseasonable cold, that full mouth pink and pretty.

Your mind flicked momentarily off and back on like a circuit breaker, the way it always did when you had to process Shouto.

You’d understood he was once-in-a-generation levels of beautiful before you’d even met him, his face staring up at you from the glossy pages of various tabloids over the years. But in person, even after years of knowing him and several more dating him, Shouto’s appearance still managed to cross all the wires in a person’s brain. His features were an incomprehensible blend of aloof and elegant, sensual and warm—like a cold masterpiece of a marble sculpture had suddenly found himself with a consciousness and human desires and miles of warm skin.

“I did not mean to startle you,” he said, his voice low and warm. He sounded sincerely regretful.

You knew he hadn’t meant to—you’d long suspected his silent tread was habitually ingrained in him from years of hero work. And, in your most private and ungenerous thoughts, you suspected from years of making himself unobtrusive in his father’s home. The thought sat sour in your mouth, like a slice of pickled lemon.

You resisted making an equally sour face, shoving the thought away to make space for the reflexive flush of pleasure seeing Shouto always brought you.

“Welcome home, Sho,” you said instead, smiling up at him. Shouto’s hands moved on your waist, sliding gently beneath the hem of your tee-shirt to rest on the skin there.

He was still in his hero uniform, and as usual you felt a little goofy in comparison, in nothing but a tee and a well-loved pair of fraying sweatpants, which were this afternoon decorated with little flecks of soup from a brush with the pot.

But Shouto’s eyes were warm where they rested on you, and that perfect mouth crept back into a contented set. His long fingers smoothed over your skin as he watched you, thumb brushing your hip. He did not look like he found you at all goofy.

In fact, as his eyes dropped down to your ankles, slowly dragging back up to your face, you rather thought he looked a little appreciative. He even took a rather ungentlemanly step back, still holding you, to better take in the whole picture. His eyes wandered over the swell of your hip, the lines of the shirt against your chest, before darting to his own shirt, still folded over your shoulder.

His fingers flexed tellingly on your waist, and those heterochromatic eyes were both a little bit darker as they flicked back to yours.

His obvious regard made you feel warm. You shifted on your feet, shuffling.

“I was just—doing laundry,” you said for something to say, your mouth feeling kind of dry. Something about him always made you feel sort of shy and light-headed, even after all this time together. “And I made soup. I was thinking we could eat on the couch and watch one of those horrendous old All Might films?”

Shouto’s eyes darted to the stove, then beside you to the pile of your laundry, lingering for a long minute. His long lashes dipped, almost fluttering as his gaze traced over the tangle of your things together. His eyes flicked back to you. He was still for just a moment, watching you assessingly.

And then all of a sudden the world spun in front of your eyes. The hands at your waist lifted you clean off your feet, and you let out a startled “oof!” as you found yourself laid out in the pile of laundry on the table, sheets and sweaters bunching beneath you.

Shouto moved over you, stepping between your spread thighs, right at the edge of the table.

“You have no idea,” he intoned in a deep, delicious tone that went right down your spine, “what it is to come home to you like this.”

You wondered at that, feeling a strange combination of confusion and flattery, when Shouto’s mouth descended onto yours. His mouth was soft and sweet and insistent and absolutely perfect. The table groaned as he laid some of his weight out over you, pinning you into the laundry as he kissed you.

Your fingers clutched at him immediately, curling in his silky-soft hair, cupping his face to yours. One of Shouto’s own hands shifted to your thigh, holding you against him as he pressed himself harder into you.

You heard yourself making little gasps of appreciation as Shouto’s mouth moved down to your neck, laving hot kisses down your throat. You reveled in the feeling of him over you, broad and strong, his shoulders blocking the glow of the overhead light, casting shadows over you.

He’d been a lot like this lately, ever since you’d moved in together. He’d been adequately amorous before, of course, and blessed with a pro hero’s strength and unflagging stamina. But a few weeks after you’d moved in together you’d actually decided you needed to reactivate your gym membership given the amount of incredibly athletic sex you were suddenly having over almost every surface in the house.

One of the only spots yet to be touched was the table though, which Shouto seemed determined to rectify at this very moment.

He pulled back from you, his mouth flush from your kisses, looking a little entranced as he stepped out from between your thighs. You made a little noise at the loss of weight and heat over you, but Shouto caught the fabric of your sweatpants, gently but determinedly tugging them off of you. Your underwear was tossed right over one broad shoulder as Shouto went to his knees, and then his mouth was right back on you.

A wave of wild heat licked up your stomach at the noise of appreciation he made before sealing his mouth over you, strong fingers clutching your thighs to keep them apart.

“Oh my god!” you said, pleasure zinging right up your spine with the first lave of his tongue over you. “Shouto!”

Shouto let out a deep, pleased hum, two long fingers sinking into you embarrassingly easily as he worked your clit with his mouth. Your back arched and you could feel your clothing shift with you, Shouto’s shirt balling up under your shoulder blade, still half-draped over your shoulder.

“Oh, oh!” you heard yourself saying as your fingers twisted in the clothing, shuddering with every lick and suck of Shouto’s perfect, amazing, talented mouth.

He worked you with the expertise of long, dedicated practice—everything about him calculated to drive you insane. One moment he was excruciatingly soft, mouth slack and the touch of his tongue as fleeting and light as the brush of a butterfly’s wing. Then the next he was sucking relentlessly, teasing firmly with the tip of his tongue as his fingers played with you.

Your first climax hit you mortifyingly quickly, and Shouto seemed to know it before you did. His grip tightened on you, holding you down as you bucked against his mouth. Shouto looked more than a little smug as he got to his feet again, unbelting himself and laying back out over you.

He kissed you some more, the taste of yourself always a sort of shock to your system. But Shouto never seemed to mind, and if anything only seemed hungrier for you, mouth pulling at yours like he meant to devour you.

You felt the touch of his hand between your thighs as he lined himself up, then sank into you easily, groaning appreciatively like he’d just sunk into a hot bath. He bit carefully at your neck, one large hand pressing your stomach down to keep you pinned against the edge of the table where he wanted you.

“I always want to come home to you like this,” he intoned into the skin of your neck, his mouth sucking dizzying patterns into your skin. “Always.”

You could barely think past the slide of him inside you, thick and full and blissfully exquisite. He really was the most perfect man on earth, and he always felt like it too.

You barely managed to blink your eyes open to watch him, trying to catch his meaning in his face. Shouto watched you back, those blue and grey pinned on you like he couldn’t bear to look away from you as he moved inside you.

“You—” you panted out, trying to cling to the thoughts threatening to wiggle out of your grip. “What do you—? Of course you’ll always come home to me.”

Shouto bucked into you harder, the slap of his hip against the bottom of your thigh echoing loudly over the burble of soup on the stove. His eyelashes fluttered, mouth softening, and a realization struck you almost dizzy.

Oh, he really liked that.

You suppressed a wave of giddiness, charmed and helplessly pleased that he seemed to like the idea so much. Was that why he’d been so especially ardent this past month? Was it really because you’d moved in together?

Shouto’s arm hooked under one of your legs, drawing it up firmly over his shoulder so he could press even further inside of you. He looked so good like that that you nearly lost the thread of your thoughts, especially when his next thrust felt like that. Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head.

“Ah!” escaped you. “Fuck, Shouto. Like that, please!”

Shouto’s thumb pressed down on your still-sensitive clit and he had to dig the fingers of his other hand into the flesh of your leg to keep you from bucking him right out of you with the way you squirmed. Sweet fucking gods he was unreal.

Shouto fucked you harder, the sound of your skin slapping together obscene in the quiet of the kitchen.

You tried again, struggling to watch his reaction with the way you wanted to throw your head back and babble nonsense instead.

“You’ll always come home to me,” you repeated, gratified when Shouto’s grip on you tightened, a soft sound escaping him. “You want me right here for you?”

“Ah—yes, love,” Shouto panted, staring down at you again. He looked like he knew what you were doing but didn’t care. “Yes,” he hissed.

“Just like this?” you prompted, trying not to slur the edges of your speech when he gave another particularly mind-bending thrust of his hips. His chest rose and fell heavily and he looked a little wild-eyed, gazing down at you.

“Like this, for me,” he said. “In my home, in our home—”

You could hear the table squeal and groan with the force of his next thrust, and then you had to grip the sides of it to steady yourself as he fucked you, looking blissful. Your nails scrabbled at the edges of the table, caught in between a million sensations—the glorious fullness of Shouto inside you, the gentle grind of his thumb against your clit, the way he looked all flushed and beautiful and panting and wanting—

You squeezed your eyes shut, too overcome with the sight of him to look at him anymore, but it was no use. Your entire body trembled as you came, and Shouto let out a low swear at the way you clenched up around him, hunching over you and pressing himself so impossibly hard against you as he came too.

He slumped down against you, weighing you into the soft-smelling cotton of the laundry you were now definitely going to have to rewash. You could feel his chest rise and fall as he panted, his breath tickling the skin under your ear. He left an unbearably soft, sweet kiss just under the lobe, at odds with the near-wild way he’d just been fucking you.

You warmed, petting through his hair with a helpless affection.

“Well now I know what time I should always do our laundry,” you said.

Shouto huffed into your neck, but you could feel a tiny smile curve his mouth.

“It is not just that,” he said, but did not elaborate for some minutes until you elbowed him gently. He peeled himself off of you just enough to look down into your face. “It is the thought of our life together. Our clothes piled together. You in the home we chose and we made…” he said, trailing off.

But you thought you got the sentiment. It was about how easy it was, how uncomplicated. A safe place to come home to, no expectations, just soup and a pile of sweet-smelling laundry and someone happy to see you. It was something far away from what he'd grown up thinking a home was, possibly something he’d thought he’d never have—something you were determined to make him realize now that he always would.

You let your fingers pull through his hair again, smiling up at him. “I am going to have to do our laundry again, though,” you teased. “In case that interests you.”

And despite what he’d just said, Shouto did in fact look a little too interested. You watched his mismatched gaze trail over to the closet that opened onto the washer and dryer. A contemplative look snuck across his handsome face, carefully curling the corner of that plush mouth.

“There is another place we have not yet broken in,” he said slowly, voice dipping low. He looked down at you with an earnest expression completely in contrast to what he was suggesting.

You couldn’t help but laugh, and that was all the permission he needed to pull you up, gathering you up in his arms and layering a fat handful of laundry on top of you. His belt buckle rattled loosely beneath you where he'd barely done it up in his haste, and you laughed harder when he turned off the stove as you passed it.

Though it turned out to be a needed precaution—as neither of you found yourselves free to sit down to dinner for several hours yet.

[bunnys-kisses]

Hi bunnyy, can I please have a blueberry muffin with a hard lemonade for Lando?💕

the bakery menu

want to submit your own order? the follow to the main post above! i am still accepting orders! these paws are rolling out the dough as we speak! as for this one,

blueberry muffins ("i don't think it'll fit.") + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour) served by lando norris (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, big cock!lando, possessive behavior, missionary, sweet sex, mechanic!reader

"i don't think it'll fit, lando." you swallowed.

"shh, shh, shh." he said as he rubbed his cock up against your achy slit, "it'll fit. the more you tense up, the less it'll fit. so, relax." then flashed you a smile.

you swallowed, "please don't bruise me, norris."

he leaned in and kissed you on the cheek ever so gently, "i would never. the last thing i want is for my mechanic to not do her job."

this all started because you took a job with mercedes, leaving poor lando all by himself at mclaren (he really wasn't alone). you were his favourite mechanic, you made his car purr like a kitten and hug the curves of the track just right.

so it broke his heart that you just upped and left him. how could you!

after you left, lando made is known that you were still his mechanic. he added the possessive pronoun to your job title, even though on your resume it said that your employment with mclaren ended two months ago.

it was an event for staff that some of the drivers attended, lando included. it was for the smaller awards throughout the season for things like mechanics and other support staff. it was an excuse to let loose before the second leg of the season.

a driver was only as strong as his support team, so many of the drivers came to support their teams! but lando was glaring daggers into the back of toto wolff's head for stealing away his mechanic.

how dare he! lando had barely seen you since your departure from the team two months ago. you had been so busy getting into the groove of mercedes that it felt like you totally forgot about him and your time on his team!

after the dinner, it came time for the actual partying. while that means most got into the harder alcohol, it gave lando the chance to get closer to you.

he seated himself beside you at the table and when you looked over, he slung his arm across the back of your chair. he smiled at you, "there is my favourite mechanic."

you lit up at the sight of lando and pulled him into a tight hug. he swore you made a gleeful noise at the sight of him, which only stroked his ego.

maybe he was a little too hard on you. maybe you did miss him quite a bit. when you pulled away, you held him by the shoulders and looked into his eyes.

"oh my god, lando!" you said, your smile big as you let go of him, "i've been seeing your messages, but i've just been so busy lately! i'm so, so, so sorry!"

aw, he really couldn't be that mad at you. you were just so painfully cute that it was like being mad at a puppy for chewing up some socks.

lando smiled back at you and wiped some of the dinner you had off your cheek, "still a messy eater as always, huh?"

you blushed a little, "oh shut up, lans." you laughed and playfully pushed his chest which caused him to grab your hands and keep them on him. you said, "i have missed you though!"

then why did you leave me, he thought.

he offered to get you another glass of wine so the two of you would keep talking. he wanted to hear all about mercedes. in reality he wanted to see where mercedes was failing in comparison to mclaren that he could convince you to come back.

your voice was music to his ears as you rambled about the other team. you hardly noticed lando's hand on your thigh until he gave it a hearty squeeze. your eyes went wide, "lans!"

he chuckled and leaned in closer to you, "i missed you. i really missed you. team's not the same without you." i'm not the same without you.

"oh! don't be silly! the new mechanic that you guys got is like a million times better than me! don't make me blush!"

all he wanted to do was make you blush. he wanted to see if it went all way down. then again he wondered how hot he'd be in the face when he was between your legs.

but he made that a reality a lot sooner than he expected.

apparently you really missed him. and you felt that you missed out on your chance to be with him. but you also were plagued with self-doubt that he'd even be into you. but lando covered up that anxiety with a hot kiss at the table before you were leading him by the hand to your hotel room with key card in your other hand.

your hotel was quaint, cute in a way as he started to get you undressed. his lips would find safety on your hated skin, his cock was heavy in his pants before he took them off.

you got up onto the bed and pulled him for some soft kisses. he melted against you, loving the feeling of you. he can't believe you missed him. it made something strange curl in his gut as he got between your legs.

"how much did you miss me?" he asked as he rubbed his hard cock against your slick pussy, "did you think about me all the time?"

you nodded, "i did lando, all the time. i felt so bad when i couldn't reply. i was worried you'd hate me." you gave a small pout.

he felt a shiver run through him, "oh, no, no, no. i could never hate you. you're my favourite!!" you blushed and covered your face. but lando took your hands away and leaned in for another kiss as he dribbling pre-cum against your pussy lips, "it's true." he said.

"lans."

he chuckled as he threatened to push his cock into you. he could feel the heat rise in his body. his heart was racing it did during a race.

"what if it doesn't fit." you said once more.

"trust me, alright? just the way i trusted you on the grid. right?" he said, almost begged. he needed this, he needed you.

you nodded, "of course." you braced for impact, but tried to keep yourself relax as he slid his cock into you. the stretch felt intense for a moment before it started to feel good.

"i'd never hurt you." he said as he planted both hands on either side of you and rutted against you. you wrapped those strong legs around him. his words were a promise as he moved against you.

"i'm sorry i didn't try to do anything sooner."

"aw, don't be. you just didn't want to ruin our jobs. i understand. i guess now that you're working for the other team, now we can do this as much as we want." he laughed.

the sex between you was almost sweet. lando peppered your face with kisses as he rocked against you. you felt so good around his cock, like two puzzle pieces.

"you feel so good."

"thank you, lans."

"i missed you every day on the grid. i got a little jealous when i'd see you working on the cars. you always looked better in orange." he admitted.

"i always thought i looked like a cheez-it."

lando kissed your lips and held onto the covers under you. his lips trailed across your skin before he said, "no, no. you looked amazing in it."

you held onto his shoulder tightly as you moved against him. it wasn't rough sex, but it wasn't too gentle either. regardless it really felt nice. it was a steady pace that allowed pleasure through your body.

the kisses your shared were wet and sweet. you could feel lando's praise of you through his lips. you held onto him. part of you wished you had done this sooner.

lando on the other hand wanted his mechanic back, he wanted you in the orange coveralls and always excited to see the cars. he just thought that you were painfully cute in the garage.

you once told him that working on a car of that caliber was a like working on a high tech puzzle, and it made the job exciting. to see your hard work (and the hard work of your former co-workers) on the track was amazing!

and lando wanted to make you proud on the track! put that hard work into action. you two worked hand in hand, and now you were tumbling in the sheets together.

you felt near to your climax and held onto him tightly. you kissed at the apples of his cheeks and moved against him, "you're amazing, lans."

he held tightly onto the covers, or else he was going to dig his hands into his hips. he picked up the pace a little bit more and captured your lips in another kiss.

you cupped his face and let him rut against you. you clenched around him and moaned into the kiss as you climaxed. you held onto the driver as he continued to thrust against you.

"shit." you moaned as you relaxed on the bed and clutched onto the white hotel sheets. you looked up at lando and smiled.

that only egged him to keep going. and the sight of your sweet face allowed him to finish inside of you. with a few heavy thrusts and he finished in a huff.

it led to more kissing, his arms wrapped around you. he whispered praises you could barely hear against your skin as you both soaked in the feeling of post-orgasmic bliss.

"you're perfect." he exhaled.

"i missed you, lans."

you get comfortable under the covers of the bed and could feel lando moving around to get comfortable as well. he laid next to you and felt comfort in your warmth.

as he laid with you, tangled up in the hotel room sheets. his nose in your hair with your head on his chest. maybe he'd find a way to get his little mechanic back, make sure she's really appreciated this time. <3

[drunkkenobi]

Hi bb, ty for the prompt to write my thoughts!

So I can't get on tumblr at work anymore unless I go outside to get good signal on my phone so I have only been privy to what's going on here today from friends on discord. So maybe I'm missing some nuance or the what my mutuals think and I apologize in advance for that but I'm going to speak plainly.

This is the only way Watcher is going to survive.

The view counts have been steady through Mystery Files season 2 but they aren't, like, astronomical. A video with a million views nets a channel between $10,000 - $30,000. Guys. That's nothing for Watcher. They have to pay each of their 25+ employees a salary with insurance and benefits and for everything else their channel requires. Steven said in the video today that a season of Ghost Files costs hundreds of thousands of dollars. I don't think everyone is hearing that part and understanding how much money that is, especially compared to many other YouTubers they watch. I'm not an expert on other YouTubers but I look at the Sims people I watch. They are successful with views in the hundred k range because they are a company of one. Themselves and maybe paying a freelancer to help edit their videos. For one person, the stakes are lower and the potential for profit is higher! Especially for gamers that are filming in their homes. YouTubers like this, making niche content on the cheap, are who is going to make it in YouTube now.

Watcher is none of those things. They have, from day one, wanted to make high quality unscripted content. All of their shows are shows. They aren't just "Ryan and Shane do [thing]" or "Steven eats [whatever]". They are shows, like ones you see on cable TV or any streamer. And shows are not cheap. Unscripted is cheaper, sure, than scripted. But that doesn't mean cheap. Especially not with the sheer production value we've seen on all their shows, in particular Ghost Files (hundreds of thousands of dollars). That is how much something like Ghost Adventures costs, which is on Travel Channel, an actual TV network that puts up all those costs.

So. That's why Watcher has to pivot to survive.

I think it's a great idea, personally. And yes, I am in a position where I can financially afford it no problem, which I know is a privilege! I am very lucky in that regard. And I understand that many people are upset they won't see the boys as easily on YouTube anymore. That is valid! But they have openly said they are totally fine with password sharing and I think that's a great way to cut down on costs for some folks. Also right now there's a great deal on the yearly sub for early subscribers. $40 for a year is cheaper than any streaming service and it doesn't go to anyone other than Watcher.

I understand that people feel hurt and blindsided, but I think Watcher is also feeling this too. They have been so excited about this and being able to make whatever they want without having to worry about sponsors and now they're mostly seeing anger directed their way. Especially at Steven. Steven is not rich. You know who's rich? David Zaslav, a man who is single-handedly ruining Warner Brothers and making himself a billionaire while he's at it. THAT is the kind of person we should be directing our anger at streaming prices and quality of the media landscape at. Not one small business that is just trying to survive so they can continue paying their employees.

And one more thing. I've seen folks saying they'd rather watch more ads than pay and while I get that, that's not going to help Watcher make what they want. YouTube famously demonetizes videos with swears which is why I can't watch a video with DRAG QUEENS without every other line being bleeped and Watcher has been so good about not bleeping their content because they know we would hate it. And YouTube does this because of advertisers. Advertisers only want to appeal to the most broad of audiences so that means not supporting anything slightly left of center. Having to deal with ads sucks from the creator perspective and does not help them in the long run.

Anyway, this is all a bit rambling, but these are my thoughts on WatcherTV. I'm extremely excited to subscribe and make them make more Weird Wonderful World. I hope to see you all there.

[srjlvr]

WEVERSE CRUSH !

YOUR favorite hobby after a busy schedule is going on weverse and trying to get jungwon’s(your classmates) attention so bad! what happens when it does actually happen? you get excited of course! but what happens when you get a reply from him every day?

OR in which you caught jungwon’s attention with your posts on weverse and now, regardless of his tight schedule and millions of fans who’s trying to get his attention, he’s only searching for your posts every day.

PAIRING idol!jungwon X idol&fan!femreader

GENER fluff , a bit of angst , comfort , type of classmates to lovers(?) but they’re basically strangers on weverse !

WARNINGS vv cringy i think , mentions of stress , awful humor and pick up lines ! (pls lmk if i missed something)

WC 4.9k+ (the longest i’ve written ever!)

NOTE this is to all of the fans that never got noticed by jungwon on weverse but do get a lot of spams💔 n e ways pls like this i worked hard on this☹️🤞🏻

NOT PROOFREAD!!

wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍 : 10:20PM jungwon! i had a busy schedule today but thinking about you always made me feel better🤍

“trying again?” one of your group mates glanced at you staring at your phone, “i’m just sharing how my day was” you shrugged.

“he’s got like millions of posts, you know that too” she chuckled, “instead of being online in your own group’s weverse you’re going online on your fan account”

“i’m online everyday you’re just overreacting” you rolled your eyes.

“why don’t you just talk to him in class? didn’t you say you both were classmates?” she pat your head.

you shook your head, “it’s not that easy, we’re both barely attending to class because of our busy schedule, and we basically stopped talking after a while”

“it’s the only way i can interact with him—at least hope so? idk”

“and what if he does notice you?” she suddenly asked, “what are you going to do then?”

“probably faint”

“you’re acting like a real fan right now”

“what do you mean acting? i am a real fan”

“no you’re not, you’re just crushing over him and don’t know how to properly confess so you’re using this app and hoping to get noticed” your other group mate barged in your conversation.

“i mean, you both are classmates but you’re always so desperate to grab his attention on weverse, what’s the point of that?” she added.

“it kinda like became my usual thing to do, before i log into our weverse i log into enhypen and leave a post there” you shrugged, “it’s one of my favorite things to do”

“you’re hopelessly in love” they both teased you.

“good morning!” you greet your classmates. your schedule was clean for the whole week so you decided were forced to go back to school.

your friends greeted you back and you sat at your desk.

“morning” jungwon mumbled as he entered the class.

it was a rare sight, jungwon’s never usually at school. his schedule is way busier than yours and considering the fact that you show up to school once a month, it was quite surprising to see jungwon’s presence.

“morning” you greeted back and he went to his seat at the corner of the class.

you missed him. you actually did. having a crush is more than just thinking about someone 24/7, it’s also about missing him.

jungwon is your role model, he had always been. being classmates for more than four years together, he helped you getting into the company you wanted and encouraged you to stay until you debut.

you went through all of this because of him and yet, both of you rarely even talk.

jungwon couldn’t quite explain why, perhaps it’s your pretty eyes that he gets lost while staring at them, or was it your smile that always ( no matter when ! ) lights up the world, his world.

he found himself getting all shy and closed up being around you, call it cheesy but jungwon just can’t stop thinking about you and missing you.

he tends to come to school more often these days, some might think he’s just trying to catch up with school, but truth is, he’s searching for you every day, to see you and your smile.

you sat at the front line while jungwon sat at the corner, which makes it easier for him to stare at you without you even noticing.

“should i ask him to eat lunch with us today?” you whispered to your seatmate and she nodded.

“i just don’t know—“ “morning! finally y/n we get to see you!” the teacher got in class and cut you.

after class you gathered all your stuffs quickly but stopped when you felt a figure standing in front of you,

“hey um” you coughed, “jungwon, i’m jungwon-“ he cut you off.

you froze, a bit taken aback, “no i know-“ “oh! oh right” he nodded.

“i was wondering if you’d like to grab some-“

“hey y/n! let’s go to the cafeteria!” your friends called you and you instantly frowned, “i can’t, something urgent came up and i need to go”

they nodded and left, you then turned to jungwon, “what did you want to-“ “it’s okay, never mind about that” he quickly mumbled and left.

wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍 : 11:34PM jungwon! i had school today but i had to leave early today because something urgent came up ): i missed lunch with someone i really adore and im really sad):

“hey jay! check this out” jungwon showed jay his phone. “what’s wrong?” jay asked after reading the post.

“it seems so weird! it happened to me today at school too” he coughed, “with y/n”

“y/n again? you never stop talking about her” niki joined in.

jungwon sighed, “i can’t stop thinking about her, it’s like she’s living in my mind rent free”

jay pat jungwon’s shoulder, he can see how sad is friend is and how difficult things are for him.

↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: you’ll always have tomorrow to spend together!

“OH MY GOD” you froze, looking at your phone for a few good minutes until your group mates came in rushing, “ARE YOU OKAY?”

one of them held a pan in her hand, ready to attack any stalker.

“it’s-“ you tried to speak, “it’s-“

“just give me the phone!” another one grabbed your phone and looked through it.

she sighed when she realized what was happening, “really y/n?”

“what is it?”

the curious cats followed her and peeked into her phone, they all sighed when they saw what is this all about.

“i was about to experience a heart attack!! we don’t do those things y/n!”

“no but you don’t understand!”

“yang jungwon just replied to me!” you walked back and forth around the room.

“i need you to sit down and calm down!” the leader held your shoulders and dropped you on the couch, “it happened once and it probably won’t happen again, i’m really happy for you”

“if you don’t get noticed by him at school at least you got noticed by him on weverse”

“BURNNN” they all shout and giggled.

you know they were joking, your groupmates became your family in a blink of an eye. they take a good care of you, and worry about you 24/7, like good old sisters.

but what they like to do the most is to tease you, which you find very annoying, but they just find it really cute.

“i’m definitely going to keep an eye on her” jungwon said to jay who was sitting next to him, “i have no choice but to trust your instincts now” he replied.

“how was your schedule yesterday?” your classmate asked you the next day.

you laid your head on your desk and groaned, “it was pretty tiring most of the time”

they pat your head and let you off, without having any other distractions—you fell asleep.

“morn-” jungwon got into the classroom and noticed your sleeping figure.

he smiled to himself, finding you so cute and adorable with your head all smashed over your desk and your slow breaths that made him think you were choking there for a second.

“what are you looking at?” his friend put his hand over jungwon’s shoulder, “nothing, i was just thinking about something”

“y/n wake up!” you heard someone whispering. you slowly opened your eyes and was welcomed by your friends all gathered around you with a big smile, “what is it?” you uttered.

“someone got you this drink” one of your friends held out your favorite drink, “you slept through all the periods, it’s lunch time already”

you looked at your phone and gasped, “why did no one wake me up?”

“we tried, you just were in deep sleep”

“thank you for the drink, did you happen to see who that was?” you curiously looked at the drink as your friends shrugged, “we all went out to get our lunch”

wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍 : 6:08PM something really weird happened today at school! someone bought me my favorite drink and put it on my desk! do you think i should look for that person?

“look!!” jungwon, who was active on weverse suddenly noticed the post, “it’s the same person from yesterday”

jay sat next to him and peeked at jungwon’s phone, “why? did you buy y/n her favorite drink today without her knowing?” he giggled but stopped when he noticed jungwon started blushing, “you can’t be serious”

↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: go search for that person!!

↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: i wish you good luck🤍

“AGAIN??” you shout, you sat on the couch with your groupmates and made them all jump when you shout.

“again?” they sighed, “WAIT WHAT?”

you showed them your phone with jungwon’s replies and they all joined you to the shouts.

“you know what they say!” one of them said, “third time a charm!” the rest of you completed the sentence and giggled.

“i’m going to be full honest now,” another one said, “i don’t think there is going to be a third time”

“you never know!”

the next day you got notified that your “schedule-free” week was a complete lie.

“what do you mean i can’t go to school this week? you told me i’m free!” your argued your manager.

“some photoshoots and sponsors came up, i’m sorry it’s like that” she pat your shoulder.

“how am i going to see jungwon again?” you asked your group leader.

if there’s one thing she’s good at, it’s probably to listen and give advices, that’s why you find yourself always laying your head on her lap and venting out your concerns.

“it’s not like you’ve seen him a lot before” she said, “right?”

“no but it was different this time! i was actually ready to talk to him about everything”

“what do you mean everything?”

“i don’t know i—“ you sighed, “my feelings? the way i feel whenever i look at him? everything”

“you do realize that it’d probably be weird to confess to someone you rarely talk to, right?”

“i hate that you’re right” you rolled your eyes, “i was actually ready to befriend him, to get closer to him”

“you’re so boring y/n! you should be more bold!”

“what do you expect me to do?”

“show him that you’re interested in him without being too weird and confessing your feelings” she smirked.

“but how?”

“do you know how to rizz up someone?”

wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍 : 11:39AM jungwon! aside from stealing hearts, what do you do?

“are you serious with me right now? why did you post that!” you shout at your leader who was busy laughing her ass off, “is that what you meant by being bold?”

“that is how you rizz up people now!”

↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: do you normally flirt with people so easily?

“OH MY GOD??” you dropped your phone and your friend froze, “don’t tell me he replied” she gasped.

“ALMOST INSTANTLY” you nodded and kneeled to get your now broken phone.

“NO WAY” she laughed, “third time a charm!”

↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: but other than stealing hearts i think about you🤍

“slap me right now” you smacked your hand over your forehead, “okay” she slapped you.

“why would you do that?”

“you asked for it!”

on the other side, jungwon was giggling at his phone, staring at it for a few good minutes, that was until heeseung took his phone away.

“hey! give it back” jungwon tried to take his now stolen phone back but heeseung was too strong,

“i saw you smiling at your phone so i thought you were texting someone,” heeseung sighed and returned jungwon’s phone, “but weverse, really?”

jungwon shrugged, “i’m just replying to fans, they’re cute”

heeseung shook his head in return, “it’s not ‘fans’ you’re talking to, it’s only one specific fan you’re replying to”

“i’ve been replying to other fans too”

“that’s what you’d like to think”

heeseung was right, jungwon does only reply to the person he said he’d keep an eye on, which is totally fine, but at what cost?

“fans are starting to think you’re dating that person secretly, you should be careful” heeseung sighed.

“you’re right, that person just interests me” jungwon replied, “i have this weird feeling it might be y/n”

“y/n? why would she be on our weverse page?” heeseung tilt his head, “doesn’t she have her own group’s weverse page to go through?”

“yeah, but some posts of her really reminds me of situations that occurred between us,” jungwon nodded, “look, a few days ago she posted something that was really similar to what happened at school!”

heeseung took jungwon’s phone again to look through the suspicious account, “let’s just keep an eye on this account”

“that’s what i’ve been trying to say!”

wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍 : 11:45AM jungwon i was so surprised when i got a reply from you and dropped my phone💔 it’s broken now!!

“that’s—“ jungwon gasped, “that’s not what i meant to happen with my response”

heeseung just giggled, “i mean who wouldn’t be surprised to get a reply from their favorite idol?”

jungwon nodded and slowly tapped his reply.

↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: haha i’d be surprised if i were you too!!

↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: how will i ever be able to repay you?

“now it just feels like he’s flirting back with me” you chuckled.

“you caught jungwon’s attention y/n!” your leader giggled, “notice how he’s always replying to you almost instantly? it’s as if he’s waiting to see your posts”

you shook your hand, “no way! why would jungwon wait for me to be online?”

“that my friend,” she put her hand on your shoulder, “is up to you to figure that out”

the next day you begged your manager to cancel your schedule, with the excuse of, “i have exams coming up and i need to catch up, do you want to see me fail?”

and it actually worked!

today you’re going to see jungwon and talk to him, no matter what!

you arrived at school and sat by your usual seat, putting your broken phone on the desk and laying your head over your hands next to it.

you slowly drifted to sleep, school is too boring on the morning anyway!

as jungwon entered the class he first looked over your direction, of course he would.

he smiled to himself, he always does when he looks at you.

he then noticed your phone that was right next to you, it was smashed and broken, as if it was dropped.

jungwon gasped, he opened his phone and entered weverse, searching the account he’s been keeping an eye on, and that was it.

a dropped and now broken phone, it’s a match!

he took a picture of your broken phone and went back to his seat to text his members about the shocking news.

‘it’s definitely her’ he sent the text and added the picture of your broken phone.

‘i don’t think so, just because of a broken phone?’ jay responded.

‘yes! she said yesterday that her phone was dropped and got broken’ jungwon replied.

‘it might be a coincidence’ heeseung claimed.

jungwon was about to text them back but had to turn off the phone once the teacher entered the class.

first break of the day was a good opportunity to talk to jungwon. you woke up in the middle of the second period and thought about ways to approach him.

you searched for him in the class, eyes scanning every place until you landed on his seat, of course, that’s how he usually spends his first break. in his usual seat, with a snack in one hand and in the other he’s holding his phone and scrolling through social media.

you got up, suddenly feeling bold enough to make steps towards his seat.

“hey jungwon” you let out.

he froze for a second, then turning off his phone and putting away his snack, “oh, hey y/n”

“heyyyyy” you said again.

“hey?” he questioned.

“uhm” you coughed, “sorry”

“it’s okay, is there something wrong?”

“no no!” you shook your hand, “i was just wondering”

you was about to continue but your phone buzzed, you got a notification.

“your phone’s broken” he pointed out.

shit, you thought. “yeah” you giggled, “i uh—“

“i dropped it after my members decided to pull a scary prank on me” good one.

he nodded and chuckled, “so?”

“so,” you cleared your throat, “i was wondering if you’d like to start over again”

finally!! you cheered.

“i mean, you’ve helped me a lot through my trainee days and encouraged me to achieve my dreams but we stopped talking after i debuted and i really feel like—“ you spoke too fast and jungwon cut you off, “i’d really like that”

“really?” you asked and he nodded, “really”

wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍 : 8:50PM i asked my crush if he’d like to get to know each other again today!! he’s a person that really helped me through tough times and always encouraged me! we were good friends back then but stopped talking after a while, i really thought he was angry at me for some reason, but i couldn’t stop having feelings for him, so i made the first step today and he actually agreed!! im so happy!!

“you did WHAT?” your group leader asked you.

“i did it, i asked if he’d like to get to know each other aga-“

“oh im so proud of you my child” she hugged you tightly and pecked your forehead, “you’re all grown up now”

↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: well,

↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: i’m sure he wasn’t angry with you at all!

↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: im happy that you two are starting all over again, who knows, maybe he feels the same about you ;)

“got you y/n” jungwon giggled.

“why don’t you just talk with her about it?” jake put his hand over jungwon’s shoulders as he stared at his phone.

“it’s difficult” jungwon frowned, “do i just go like ‘oh hey! i know you have a weverse account and i know your user, i have feelings for you too so let’s date’?”

“yeah!” jake nodded and jungwon groaned, “you’re no help”

“so? tell us everything” your members sat you on the couch while they surrounded you with some curious eyes.

“about?”

“about what happened at school!”

“i went to jungwon, asked him if he’d like to start over again, he said he’d love to, so we went together to get some lunch and talked about everything we missed, it was real fun honestly really recommend you to do that too—“

“did you confess, or not” they all asked.

“no why would i confess so soon”

they all sighed, “no drama, no fun!”

you rolled your eyes, “can we at least eat something now?”

wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍 : 9:27PM i don’t think he feels the same, but it was really fun to spend the day together with him, his company has always made me feel warm and comfortable.

↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: im more than happy to hear that! first breaks are always so fun when you spend them with a person you like ^-^

you tilt your head in confusion, showing your phone to your members, “look at that”

they all read your post and his reply, “what’s so weird about it?”

“i never said i spent the first break together with him”

“DO YOU THINK HE KNOWS?” you freaked out, “OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD” you held your head, moving back and forth around the room.

“y/n calm down!!” your leader said, “maybe he just assumed it was the first break since it’s the first time of the day you get to spend with other people!”

“you’re right,” you breathed in, calming yourself down, “thank you”

next day you went back in track, your manager told you the next time you’d be showing up to school would be only on exams and maybe next month.

your schedule became busier than before, you barely had time to breath. going back and forth, from a phothshoot to an interview then practice and more.

you were drained and overworked, your phone hasn’t been touched ever since the last day you showed up at school, which means—you haven’t showed up on weverse a few weeks already.

you’d see jungwon only when you arrive to school to take exams, but then disappear right away after you finish them.

“waiting for a new update again?” sunghoon asked jungwon who was staring at his phone and refreshing the page every minute, “yeah” he replied.

“she’s always online around these hours” he added.

“have you seen her at school?” sunghoon asked, jungwon froze for a second, thinking about the last time you showed up at school, “only when there’s an exam we need to take”

“maybe she’s just having a busy schedule,” sunghoon shrugged, “you’re barely online when you have a tight schedule”

“right” jungwon nodded, “but i wonder if she’s doing well” he sighed and closed his phone.

the past days has been awful to you. you slowly felt yourself vanishing, like a lifeless soul walking around.

your groupmates always looks after you worriedly, you’d barely even talk to anyone.

“y/n what about eating something?” your leader asked you, “no i’m okay, i ate just a few minutes ago” you smiled.

that was a total lie, you simply didn’t feel like eating lately.

slowly but surely you stared at your phone, five minutes won’t hurt, right?

wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍 : 12:57PM haven’t been active lately and i miss being here and interacting with you jungwon! i don’t think i’ll be able to be active again so i’m here to say that you should take good care of yourself, eat your meals in time and rest when you need to.🤍 your health always comes first!!

you sighed and turned off your phone.

jungwon, who was busy staring at his phone and waiting for a new update suddenly jumped in his chair.

“finally”

↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: im sorry to hear that, is everything okay?

↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: i’ll make sure to take care of myself as long as you take care of yourself too 🤍

he replied immediately, as if he’s the one getting a notification from you each time you post something—when it’s supposed to be the opposite.

“jungwon we’ve recently found out that you’re suffering from that illness,” niki pat jungwon’s head,

“what is it?”

“the ‘weverse crush’ illness” niki laughed and jungwon sighed.

“you can’t stop refreshing the page to see a new post from her!” jay claimed, “and you’re replying so fast whenever she does post something” jake added.

“you should just get her phone number and text her” heeseung shrugged.

“but im not sure it’s her” jungwon turned off his phone.

“all clues points at her, it’s worth a shot” sunghoon nodded.

the next day you were forced to go back to school, your school principal complained about the fact that you’ve been missing most of your classes and nearly failing in all of them.

so it’s settled, you’ll be going to school for a month sharp, without any useless inconveniences.

first day of school after a while of not being there felt like a nightmare.

you looked at the school building with horror, yet, you felt a bit excited to see jungwon again.

you took your usual seat, put your earphones in and listened to your favorite song.

when jungwon entered the class, he was surprised to see you sitting there and staring at one point of the class.

he knocked on your desk and you zoomed out, “oh, hey” you smiled weakly.

something definitely happened while you were gone, “hey, it’s good to see you again”

the teacher entered the class right away and jungwon ran to his seat.

at lunch, you stayed in your desk, excusing yourself from your friends and going back to your books to read and study.

jungwon frowned, he has to do something about it.

he went to the cafeteria and got your favorite snack, he knows it’s your favorite, he remembers.

you were so focused on your study book to notice jungwon’s figure next to you.

“knock knock?” he questioned and you looked at him, making eye contact for a few seconds before looking away.

“hey again” you closed your book and focused on him.

“i got it for you” he handed you your favorite snack with a wide grin on his face.

“thank you”

silence. it was so quiet that you could even hear the birds outside.

“is everything okay?” he suddenly asked.

“huh?”

“oh yes, everything’s amazing” you smiled.

“we both know you’re lying”

turns out you were a bad liar after all.

“i’m not going to force you to speak,” he pat your shoulder, “but i’m here for you”

those words, were enough to break you down.

you felt comfort around him, you felt everything you feel around someone you’re in love with, you felt warm, welcomed and understood.

so you told him everything, from A to Z.

jungwon is known as his group’s no.1 comforter, and he’s now your personal no.1 comforter as well.

he knew the exact words to say to you and how to make you feel better.

right when you finished crying he told you a joke, and now you were shedding tears out of laughter.

“thank you” you looked at him with comfort.

“anytime” he chuckled and stole your snack, “you’re not crying anymore so i’ll just take that and save it for myself”

you rolled your eyes and kept messing around until it was time for another class.

wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍 : 8:30PM i had the best day ever today! i saw my favorite person ever at school today, after a long time i haven’t been able to see him! i also cried in front of him (was so embarrassing) but he comforted me so well, i think i’m falling in love all over again.

↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: see!! lunch time can be so fun when you’re with a person you like too!!

↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: i hope you’ll be able to spend more time together in the future!!

“he definitely knows” you freaked out.

“even if he does,” your leader clapped, “what’s so wrong about it?”

“what if he doesn’t like me back?”

“he does”

“how do you know that?”

“because i just do!” she sighed, “otherwise he wouldn’t reply to you so instantly as if he waits for your posts every day”

“you’re right” you nodded.

“but what if he does it just so he could laugh at me with his members?”

“not a chance” she groaned, “stop overthinking so much and just talk to him about it!”

“so um,” the next day, you dragged jungwon out of the classroom as soon as he entered.

you had to talk about it before the rest of the day continues.

“you have weverse right…?” you suddenly asked, “oh my god that was so stupid of me of course you do you’re an idol and—“

“i know it’s you” he cut you off.

“what?”

“isn’t that what you wanted to ask me?” he tilt his head, “i know it’s you” he repeated.

“and,” you wanted to continue but couldn’t find the words.

“i like you too” he suddenly confessed.

“wha—“

you were about to respond but he cut you off with a peck on your lips, “i said i like you too”

you looked at him, making eye contact for a few good minutes, both of your cheeks are now as red as a tomato,

and as you looked at his pretty face, you could notice how red his ears became.

“for how long?” you asked,

“ever since we started talking” he smiled, “your pretty smile, your beautiful eyes and breathtaking smile, everything about you just made me think about you all day”

“then why—“ “i couldn’t talk to you after you debuted, i was so scared it might hurt your image, and i couldn’t always find the right words to talk to you,” he looked down,

“i didn’t want to look like a loser in front of you” he kicked the air like a little child.

“jungwon” you smiled, “looking like a loser isn’t something to be ashamed of” you giggled.

“i like you, in any form or any shape or whatever!” you joked and hugged him tightly.

“would you like to go on a date with me today right after school?” he suddenly asked.

“so bold of you” you teased, pecking the tip of his nose, “but yes, i’d love to go on a date with you”

“can i finally call you mine?” he held your hand.

“of course” you pecked his lips,

“don’t get confused when you’re replying to me on weverse!”

••• copyright © srjlvr all rights are reserved.

[pierregazly]

a diamond's gotta shine ꨄ lance stroll smau

lance stroll x fem!reader

pic credit: pinterest

i know lance is daddy's money through and through (and i love a nepo baby sorry), but he is so 'my love language is gift giving so i'm going to spoil my girlfriend with everything i can' boyfriend material so here's that basically

yourusername

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lance_stroll

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lance_stroll spent the last 2 years with her shoes in my hands after nights out, hoping for a hundred more

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yourusername all i asked for was a picture, and he decided to give me 2 years of his life and his heart. i'll love you til my lungs give out.

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username all she asked for was a PICTURE 😭 and he gave her his heart 😭 and she'll love him til her lungs give out 😭

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lance_stroll yeehaw

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username this is such a look... are we sure this man isn't from alberta

yourusername i will save all the horses if it means i get to ride this cowboy

username y/n.... estebanocon there are children on this app

username i was literally waiting for that y/n comment... these two are disgustingly unhinged

yourusername has added a story

liked by lance_stroll, chloestroll, and others

replies

lance_stroll why didn't you post the pic of both of us in the bath :(

yourusername i wasn't trying to traumatize your family my love lance_stroll u posted that you're going to 'ride this cowboy' but a pic of me in the bath is too much?

yourusername

tagged lance_stroll

liked by lance_stroll, scottyjames31, chloestroll, and 102,340 others

yourusername do you think i get to meet emily in paris or am i stuck with lance

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lance_stroll i just bought you that croissant and coffee and this is what i get as thanks????

yourusername i am so obsessed w u im sorry my favourite cowboy 🥺

username this is so wholesome lance is so boyfriend coded im crying

username y/n is literally living her best life ever i want to be her so bad

scottyjames31 i just know all of these photos were taken at least 75 times

yourusername mind ur own business scotty

lance_stroll and yourusername

liked by chloestroll, estebanocon, mickschumacher and 2,304,550 others

lance_stroll watching you walk down the aisle will make me the luckiest man alive

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estebanocon did you pay her to say yes?? congratulations you two 🥂

chloestroll even though i helped plan this entire thing i STILL cried on the phone. so happy for you both!!

username this man bought her like 5k worth of goodies and then put a RING that's probably worth my yearly salary on her finger??? god has chosen his favourite

yourusername im so lucky to be the one you've chosen to spend the rest of your life with. je t'aime 💗

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@leclercdream @myescapefromthislife @leclerces

i didnt tag anyone that specifically requested in the replies to be tagged for 'to live for the hope of it all' and all its parts (mostly bc idk how taglists work and i dont wanna bother yall), so if you'd like to be on my taglist for everything please send me a quick ask/dm (or u can just reply and say you'd like to be tagged for everything)! thank you for all the love

[inbloomwriting]

Everything to me - Chapter 2

Chapter two - Blueberry & Kidney Bean

Chapter 1

Plot: Jamie Tartt is a lot of things: professional footballer, the island's top scorer .... sexually, extremly handsome. But one thing he never saw himself as was a dad. Too bad he has to deal with the consequences of his own actions. This fic follows reader and Jamie as they navigate life and turn from practially strangers to parents. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Pregnancy, swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, slight mention of sexual intimacy (nothing graphic), strained/toxic parental relationship Notes: 5.6k words. I do not have a set uploading schedule. Please bear with me as I work on this story. I know hardly anything about pregnancy, all my information comes from google. I tagged everyone who asked me to do it when I posted part 1. Please let me know if you want to be taken off or added to the taglist. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

The store smells like dust and cardboard and old carpet. It's not necessarily a bad smell, it just doesn't live up to her memories.

She remembers the perpetual scent of menthol cigarettes and some kind of cheap men's perfume wafting through the air. The store used to smell like her dad and now it doesn't. And that just makes it all even more real.

Boxes upon boxes litter the room, filled with records. Some older, some newer. Guitars adorn one wall while the others are covered in posters from tours that happened long ago, some even before she was born.

There is something comforting about being here. It’s like stepping back into the past. Long nights watching Dad and his friends play their guitars after store-closing. Discovering new bands whenever a new shipment of records came in. And yes - she is the first to admit that in her younger years, she mostly chose the records by how cool the cover looked. 

It’s also memories of Dad getting caught up in the after-hours jam sessions and forgetting about her dance recital and that one time he threw a guitar at the window out of anger that a shipment of records got lost. It took him months to get the window replaced. She could probably still trace exactly where the crack used to be. 

Being here is very reminiscent in all the good and bad ways. But it’s a warped version of the past. One that’s laced with all the knowledge she has now. Like a movie that you’ve seen a million times.

“I don’t think pregnant women are supposed to be doing that!” 

Jamie’s voice cuts through the nostalgia-induced fog like a sunbeam through the clouds. And it also gives her a little heart attack as the only sound filling the room up until now had been her moving around and the soft tunes of an Eric Clapton record playing in the background.

“Jesus fuck! You scared me. I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to startle pregnant women either and give them heart attacks.” 

He looks at her with those big expressive eyes of his and a comically overdone pout on his lips. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. But seriously give me that.” 

He’s so quick to take the box of records from her hands (Y/N) hardly has time to process what’s going on. 

Quite honestly, his worry is a bit misplaced here but she appreciates the sentiment even if he might be a little overly cautious at that moment. It feels nice to be cared for. 

“You know I’m pregnant, not sick, right? I can carry stuff.” 

“Yeah but why would you if you got me carrying it for you?” 

He has a point, she has to give him that. 

“Fair enough. Those go over there in the corner please.” 

Jamie follows her order without hesitation and, after setting the box down in its designated place, his eyes dart across the room and light up with childlike wonder and curiosity.

“This used to be your dad’s place, yeah? It looks really neat with all them posters and shit. Like stepping into an old person’s mind but like a cool old person that buys you alcohol when you’re 15 and lets you watch horror movies when your mum said no.” 

Of all the adjectives in the world, (Y/N) wouldn’t ever think of using the word “cool” to describe her dad. He was creative and fun and eccentric and stubborn — but cool? 

Then again he was her dad and no one ever likes to think of their own parents as cool. Oh god, will their kid think she’s uncool?! 

“Uh yeah, the shop and the apartment right above us. He owned it, now I do. I’m trying to get it all fixed up and ready to be sold.”

“What? Why?” 

There is something to be said about Jamie’s face and his absolute inability to mask his emotions. Everything he thinks and feels is mirrored twice as vividly on his face. He’s all furrowed brows and pouty lips. 

“I mean — it’s a record store. People don’t really buy records anymore. Be honest, when was the last time you bought one instead of just streaming the music?” 

“Like two weeks ago.” 

“Fuck off, no you didn’t!” 

“Uh — yeah, I did. Olivia Rodrigo if you must know.” 

A soft giggle falls from (Y/N)’s lips. How fitting for Jamie to buy an album full of teenage angst. 

“Well, you’re one of very few people though. In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have to sell. I’d keep it open. Instead of selling instruments, it’d turn that part of the shop into a little stage with a coffee counter or a bar. Host open mic nights and shine a spotlight on undiscovered artists. But the world isn’t perfect and there is no way I can afford to turn that vision into reality so really there’s no use in letting myself get too caught up in it.” 

There is pity in his eyes and she hates it. She doesn’t want pity, not his or anyone else’s. Has seen enough of it, especially lately. If she had received just one more “Sorry for your loss” card in the mail from relatives she hadn’t seen in decades, she probably would’ve stabbed a fork in her own eye. Pity does no good to no one. 

“Anyway, Jamie. Not that I don’t enjoy hanging out with you, it’s kind of necessary if we want to get this whole beings-friends-thing right, but uh — what are you doing here?” 

“Jesus, can’t a guy just come around to say hi to his baby? “ 

She thinks the way he says the word “Baby” in his thick accent is surprisingly and undeniably adorable. As if it ends in an “eh” instead of a “y”.

“By the way, they’re as big as a blueberry now.” 

And the way he’s keeping track of the baby's growth gets her right in the heart. For some reason, this seems to come so naturally to him when it all still feels weird and foreign and surreal to her. As if it were happening to someone else and she’s just a mere spectator. The idea that something as small as a blueberry will one day turn into a proper baby, a child, a teenager … a whole ass adult - is so wild to her. Almost incomprehensible. A person with their own feelings and dreams and personality. (Y/N) wonders if at any point in this pregnancy, she'll wake up and it'll all just make sense or if that only comes once she's holding the baby in her arms.

“That's cute. Doesn't answer my question though. What brings you here?”

A shadow of something flickers across Jamie’s face. Something unreadable and unfamiliar. Something that makes (Y/N) feel a sense of dread bubbling up in her stomach.

“I uh — I can’t do this.”

And there it is. That unfamiliar shadow is now a metaphorical atom bomb, a mushroom cloud of all that could have been and won’t be.

“Oh okay. I mean no, not okay. This sucks actually. You said you wanted to be part of the baby’s life and now you’re bailing? That’s a shit move, Jamie. You’re a right prick for pulling that crap.” 

“What? Oh no!” his eyes widen as the realization sets in. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Well then what did you mean? Cause you’re truly giving me a heart attack right now. Second one for today. You really need to start working on your conversation starters.” 

She had given him the chance to opt out of being a dad, to not be a part of the baby’s life. It seemed like the right thing to do and, foolishly, (Y/N) had believed that she’d be okay with him doing just that. In this very moment though, she feels everything but okay. The idea of Jamie changing his mind is terrifying. 

Sometimes you don’t realize just how much you need something — or someone until you’re faced with the possibility of losing them.

“I mean, I can’t do this alone. I need to tell someone. All I keep thinking about is the baby and I feel like I am going to explode any second now. I know we can’t tell everyone yet ‘cause of — well you know, things going wrong and stuff. But I need to tell someone. You got to tell Rebecca and your mum, I think it’s only fair I get to tell two people as well, yeah?”

A sense of relief floods her. Starts in her toes and fills her all the way to the top of her head. He wants this — wants the baby. It’s not just her in this. It’s nice to know you have someone in your corner. It’s also scary. Because he deserves to know just whose team he’s on. And being vulnerable fucking sucks. 

“Jamie, that’s fine. Absolutely you can tell your mum.” 

“And Simon? You got two people so — “

“I didn’t though.” 

“Uh yes, you did. I know you told Rebecca.” 

“That’s right.”

“And your mum too”.

The silence that follows his words is deafening. Being vulnerable means also admitting guilt. It means owning up to all of your mistakes. Though we are not the sum of our mistakes, they are what help shape the person we become. And (Y/N) really doesn’t think they make her a very good one.

“And your mum too?” 

More silence.

“You didn’t tell your mum? Why not? “

To his credit, Jamie looks truly surprised and confused. There is no judgment there, just absolute bewilderment and that signature softness that rounds out his features and settles in his eyes whenever Jamie talks to her about something serious. Granted they’ve not had that many conversations but she hopes that softness stays. She hopes that maybe their baby can have those soft, gentle eyes too.

“I’m not sure. I think I’m scared. My mum and I have a — complicated relationship. I disappoint her, she judges me. You know, the usual.” 

“You think she’ll be disappointed because we're having a baby? Is it because of me?”

(Y/N) shrugs, breaking eye contact and fixing her gaze on the old grey carpet with the ugly 90s pattern. What if those soft eyes can look straight through her, see all the ugly parts and the insecurities? That’s too scary for now. Too much too soon.

“No, it has nothing to do with you. Think she’ll just be disappointed I didn’t get pregnant according to the timeline she dreamed up for my life when I was like 2 years old. Had it all planned out for me and I never stuck to it.” 

Jamie is quiet for a moment but (Y/N) doesn’t dare to look back up at him. She can’t deal with any more pity.

“Well if you want to practice telling a mum, we can start with mine.”

“Huh?” 

“You can come to Manchester with me if you want. To tell my mum. We’ll have one mum down then, makes it easier to do it a second time. It’s science.” 

Jamie has the fascinating quality of making you believe in his words just by being so undeniably charming and because he believes in them himself. He makes it look easy when it is everything but.

“And if things don’t go well with your mum at least you’ll know you have at least one mum you can rely on, even if it’s not your own. She raised me pretty much by herself so she knows a thing or two about babies and parenting and stuff.” 

The mocking raise of (Y/N)’s right eyebrow doesn’t go unnoticed by Jamie who opens his lips to a silent gasp and clutches his chest with an overly dramatic gesture. 

“What? You saying I didn’t turn out perfectly?”

“No,” she laughs, a lightness festering in her chest. Like the first rays of sunshine after a cold winter that never seemed to end. Like a glass of wine after a long day at work. Like your favorite song on the radio at the exact moment you need it most. “I think you turned out exactly the way you were supposed to.” 

“Thanks,” Jamie says with that cheeky smile playing on his lips that makes him look a little younger than he actually is. Then he dares to wink at her and it’s a little annoying but also insanely charming. “Not sure you meant it as a compliment but I am taking it. Now when are you free for a trip up to Manchester?” 

(Y/N)’s been on a lot of road trips around the country when she was younger. She’s even spent a whole summer traveling Europe, partially by train but most of the time was spent stuffed in a Fiat Punto with 3 of her friends and all their luggage. It was stuffy, it was chaotic and it was immensely fun. None of those road trips ever involved a shiny black Aston Martin Rapide though. 

Or a famous footballer dressed in the ugliest lime green sweater (Y/N) has ever seen. 

“That’s all the luggage you got?” Jamie questions as he moves the black shades off of his eyes and sets them on the top of his head, holding back some of his hair. It shouldn’t work so well but it does. 

“I mean, we’re only staying for a night right? Why? Should I have brought more? How much did you pack?” 

He glances at her, then towards the car, and back at her. A sheepish look crosses his face before being replaced by his childlike cheekiness. “That’s confidential. Don’t worry about it, yeah?” 

“I got my ginger lollies, that’s all that matters really.” 

“You feeling alright?” 

“Mh, I’m good. Just pregnant.” 

His eyes drop down to her stomach for just a second before he nods his head in what (Y/N) can only describe as a mix of pride and satisfaction. “Yeah, you are.” 

That’s new. Well not new-new but it hasn’t happened since the day of the funeral. That tingly feeling in her stomach that has fuck all to do with the baby and everything with how the baby got there. Yes, Jamie is hot and (Y/N) is the first to admit as much but there has been so much stress and chaos and she hardly had time to think about anything but surviving and making sure not to completely lose herself in bad visions of what-ifs that her brain has had no time to process any feelings of arousal or lust. That look he just gave her though, that one made her remember it for just a second.

“You sure you’re alright?” 

Jamie’s voice shakes her from her daydream and brings her back to the real world, her eyes focusing back on the obscene car parked in front of her tiny apartment building looking so insanely out of place.

“Uh yes, I’m fine. I just — sometimes I forget that you’re famous.” 

Jamie regards her for a moment before shrugging his shoulder and grabbing the bag from her hands. “I don’t. It’s fun. Now come on, let’s goooooo.” 

His voice is dipped in excitement and there’s a bounce in his step. If this is how the prospect of seeing his mother makes him feel and behave, she must be one lovely woman. Whenever (Y/N) thinks of her own mother her chest fills with tiny metaphorical icicles. Sharp and rough and painful. It’s all regret and judgment and disapproval. It’s “You gained weight”, “you look tired”, and “You should really look into getting a new job”. Daggers disguised as roses. Stabs right to the heart in the name of being honest. “I just care about you, because I love you, because I am your mother!” 

If there is one thing (Y/N) knows for sure, it’s that she will never ever find the need to resort to criticism and thinly veiled malice in order to show her child that she cares. They will know. Every single day. Because she’ll make sure to show them. Every single day in all the big and tiny ways a person can show their love. 

“Kidney Bean?”

“Kidney Bean. And apparently, the baby is sprouting webbed fingers and toes right now. Oh, and it’s starting to move!” 

“Can you feel that?” 

“No, not yet.” 

“It’s mental. Last week she was the size of a blueberry and now she’s a kidney bean. Kid’s growing up too fast.” 

It’s true. There is so much happening all at once and it’s almost impossible to really process it all. Suddenly there is a tiny spark of a human inside her. Not really a baby yet but a baby to her. And it's moving and developing and changing every second of every day. Fucking insane.

“Wait … you said she. You think it’s a girl?”

Maybe it’s the sunlight casting a glow through the windshield but (Y/N) is almost certain she can just about make out a blush dusting Jamie’s cheeks. 

“Dunno.”

“Jamie Tartt, do you want to be a girl dad?” 

He glances at (Y/N) through the corner of his eyes for just a moment but it’s enough for her to see the sincerity in him. This is something he’s thought about before. Learning new things about Jamie is fascinating.

“Ah,  it’s stupid, really. It’s — It’s dumb or whatever.” 

“No, come on, don't go shy on me now. Tell me.” 

He takes a deep breath. A moment passes then another. There is no rush. Sometimes silly thoughts are the result of harsh truths. 

“Told you my dad was a prick. Like the biggest piece of shit walking this earth, yeah? And I knew that all my life. Thing is I still tried to impress him. I just — I wanted him to like me so badly. Just felt wrong that me own dad didn’t care about me and that made me angry. And I kept that anger inside me for so long. Sometimes when I think about the baby and the future I am scared that if I have a son that anger will jump over to him. Like maybe all Tartt men are cursed or some shit like that. But if I had a little girl maybe that would make it easier for me to be a good dad. I don’t mind either way, obviously, but the idea of having a son scares me.” 

It’s the most vulnerable he’s been with her so far and by the way he clenches his jaw and grabs onto the steering wheel just a little tighter, (Y/N) can tell this isn’t easy on him. It means a lot that he shares this part of him with her anyway. It feels like they are actually becoming friends. So opening up to him in return is only half as horrifying. 

“When I was a kid, maybe 11 or 12, I wrote a short story for school and I won an award. They did this big ceremony thing where the 3 finalists got to read their stories out loud for an audience and then receive their prizes. My mum didn’t show up, not sure if it was because she stayed longer at the office and didn’t care enough to leave on time or if she just didn’t feel like getting out of the house. Point is, she wasn’t there. When I came home that night I was sad, obviously, and I was also pissed. Because why the fuck couldn’t she take one night off to come see me succeed at something even if it wasn’t something she deemed worthy of praise. 

So I yelled at her and I’m sure I said some hurtful things. But I was so devastated and angry and I needed an outlet for once. She called me ungrateful but I was used to that, she always called me ungrateful. Then she looked at me with that look of absolute resignation and malice and she said that she hopes I have a daughter like me one day and that she makes me realize how hard it is to love me. 

When I think of the baby, sometimes I see a little girl too. One that I will love so much she never has to doubt it for a single second. And I will also prove my mother wrong. Because it will be so easy to love my little girl and it would’ve been so easy to love me, her little girl.” 

It’s the first time she’s ever said those words out loud. Truly, (Y/N) had not expected for them to come out in an Aston Martin, on the way to meet her baby’s father’s mother but life doesn’t seem to care for plans very much these days.

Softly, as if to not startle her, Jamie places his hand on hers, squeezing gently.

“I think your mum is a right bitch.” 

“Thanks. I think your dad is a huge asshole.” 

“We’re gonna be better than them, right?” 

It’s not really a question. It’s more of a promise.

“We will. I know it.”

His hand doesn’t leave hers for a good long while. 

The nerves don’t hit her until they pull up to the quaint little house with the white front. There’s a rose bush to the side and some kids playing football just across the way. The nerves don’t hit her until Jamie puts the car in park but when they do, they hit her like a freight train.

“Woah, you alright?” 

“Huh?” 

“You look all pale and like you’ve seen a ghost or something. Do you have to puke?”

A chuckle falls from her lips at the absurdity of it all. In all honesty, she’s not met a lot of parents yet but the few she did meet were parents of actual partners. People she had been dating for a while. It was a natural progression of steps. This is all wrong and sideways and topsy-turvy. You’re supposed to meet the mum first and then get pregnant. 

Again with the life and the plans. 

“I’m fucking nervous.” 

“Hah,” Jamie laughs. The audacity of this guy. “You’re nervous to meet my mum? Why? She’s an angel.”

“Do you not know how intimidating that is? Like, if she was shit I wouldn’t care but she sounds wonderful and I want her to like me. No, I need her to like me. Desperately. And I can only imagine what she thinks of me already. Some floozy who gets knocked up and really just wants your money.” 

Before she even fully realizes what’s happening, (Y/N) feels Jamie’s hands on her cheeks, framing her face in warmth.

“Calm down, please. I promise it’ll be alright. My mum will love you, I know it. Probably more than she loves me. Actually no that’s a lie, but she will love you and she will love our baby. Promise.”

“She’s not gonna judge me for — you know. Getting pregnant even though we’re not dating or anything.” 

“My mum was married to my dad, worst person on planet Earth. Don’t think she’s in any position to judge you. It’ll be alright, trust me.” 

She hardly knows this man and yet she can’t help but do just that. Trust him.

The first thing (Y/N) notices about Georgie is her smile. A smile that is so familiar because it looks exactly like Jamie’s smile. Warm and radiant and true. A part of (Y/N) hopes that their baby inherits that same smile. Partially because it’s a really good smile and partially because maybe that could help Jamie realize that he is more than the sum of his father’s problems and mistakes. He is all his mother’s boy.

“Oh, I missed you, my baby.” 

Georgie wraps her arms around Jamie’s middle, getting swallowed by his frame for a moment. There’s no denying that part of (Y/N)’s heart breaks a little seeing how loving of a relationship these two have and wondering where she and her own mother went wrong.

And as it so happens with so many kids that have never been loved quite the way they deserved, (Y/N) can’t help but search for the problem in herself. 

“Yeah sorry for not visiting earlier. You know how it is with training and stuff.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I know my boy is busy being a star.” 

The words hold a slight mocking, never mean but in the way that only people who are close can tease each other. You know every word comes laced with deep affection, with pride, with love.

“And it’s so nice to meet you too. I’m Georgie.” 

It takes a second for (Y/N) to realize that Jamie’s mum is now talking to her directly.

“I uh — oh thank you. Nice to meet you too, I’m (Y/N).” 

Georgie smells like mint chewing gum and floral perfume as she pulls (Y/N) into a hug. She’s soft and gentle and it’s been the first hug from a mother (Y/N) has received in quite some time.

“Sorry, didn’t even ask if you’re a hugger.”

“Oh that’s alright, don’t worry about it.” 

She’s not a hugger, never really was, but there is something about Georgie granting her some affection that isn’t all that bad. Maybe their kid can have at least one grandmother who cares and who isn’t completely disgusted by the idea of showing any kind of positive emotions.

“Jamie never brings girlfriends around so I’m a bit out of my element here if I’m being honest.” 

“Mum we’re not — she’s not.” Jamie takes a big breath before starting again “(Y/N) and I are friends, yeah? Told you about it on the phone.” 

“Right, right. Well, you don’t bring around a lot of friends either so same difference, really. Now come inside will you, I’m sure we got a lot to catch up on.”

Oh if only she knew how true that sentiment really is.

There are pictures of Jamie staring back at (Y/N) from every corner of the house and Georgie leads them through the hallway and towards the kitchen. Every wall and every shelf holds a memory of him at one point in his life. Gap toothed with a football in hand smiling, surrounded by a field of tulips arm wrapped around his mother’s shoulder, his teenage self smoldering at the camera with an even more questionable haircut than the one he is sporting right now. Oh to be loved in a way that every past version of you is being remembered.

As they reach the kitchen a sweet scent fills the room when a man clad in an apron turns around and faces them with a huge smile playing on his face. He has a dorky kind of charm to him that immediately puts you at ease. Maybe it’s just the frilly apron, maybe it’s the big oven gloves, maybe it’s the smile. Either way, (Y/N) thinks that if they take the news well, her kid might have truly lucked out on one side of the grandparents department. 

“Jamie, welcome home.” 

“Hi Simon, thanks, mate. Glad to be back. This is (Y/N).” 

“The friend, right.” Simon says and shoots Georgie a look that neither of them misses. Subtlety doesn’t seem to be one of his best qualities. “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you too. It smells amazing in here.” 

“I found this new recipe for honey blondies. Not sure if they'll be any good but I guess we'll find out. If you guys want to go have a seat, I'll come bring them over.”

“Actually,” Jamie speaks up while nervously fiddling with his hands. “I was hoping we could have a talk before we do anything else. There’s something I need to tell you both.” 

Imagining the hypothetical scenario of telling your mum you’re having a baby and actually doing it really are two completely different things it seems. Gone is all of Jamie’s confidence and replaced with a whole lot of anxiety. 

“You're worrying me, Jamie. What has you acting so serious? Did you get someone pregnant or something?”

Georgie's words are followed by a thick awkward silence. It's heavy and suffocating and it makes (Y/N) feel uneasy in both her heart and her head.

It doesn't take long for Jamie’s parents to realize what his silence means. Everything communicated by not saying a single word.

“Oh, fuck.”

And there's nothing to add to Georgie's reaction. It's the exact same one (Y/N) had when she first saw those faint blue lines.

Of all the possible outcomes and ways this day could’ve gone, (Y/N) had not expected to find herself staring at not only a curly-haired Roy Kent but also come face to face with two very persuasive arguments belonging to no other than Keeley fucking Jones. 

“This is surreal.” 

The posters stare back at her all crinkled paper and bleached ink, as if to mock her silently. 

“Ah, well I told them to redecorate when I moved out, think they just haven’t gotten around to it yet.” 

A light dusting of pink settles on the apples of Jamie’s cheeks as well as the tips of his ears. This man can’t hide his emotions for the life of him. It’s quite adorable really. 

“Do they know?” 

“Does who know?” 

“Roy and Keeley. Do they know you have their pictures up in your room?”

“Well no and It’s not my room anymore, is it? ‘S not like I have ‘em hanging at home. Put these up ages ago.” 

A giggle slips through (Y/N)’s lips at his desperate attempt to talk himself out of this situation. 

“It’s okay, Jamie. I won’t tell.” 

“There’s nothing to tell, alright?” he responds in mock offense before sitting down on his childhood bed next to (Y/N). “Just liked boobs and football and those two were the best those fields had to offer, yeah? Can’t really blame me.” 

“Not much has changed has it?”

He shrugs his shoulders in response “Nah. Still like boobs and football but no way I’d put up a poster of granddad’s ugly mug nowadays.”

From the few times they talked about his job, including his teammates and coaches, (Y/N) was able to gather that Jamie’s relationship with Roy is something special. Odd, but special. Maybe that’s what happens when you end up working with your childhood idol. Either way, no matter how much shit he likes to talk about him, it’s clear that Jamie respects and admires Roy a great deal still.

“And uh — and Keeley?” 

“What about her?” 

“Is she — are you — how are things?” 

She still remembers that crestfallen look on his face on the day of the funeral. That infinite sadness in his eyes. She hadn’t put two and two together at that moment but later that night it all clicked. Keeley was the woman he was in love with, the woman who did not love him back. And while (Y/N) knows that she and Jamie are only bound together by happenstance and fate — if one chooses to believe in that, and that there is nothing romantic about their situation, it does sting a little to know that the man you’re having a baby with is in love with someone else.

“We’re good. We’re friends, think that’s all we’ll ever be. Her and Roy, they’re happy and I don’t want to ruin it for either of them. Keeley and I just were not right together.” 

“And you’re okay with that?” 

He nods his head, a small smile playing on his lips “Yeah, I’m alright with it. If I hadn’t made a fool of myself at the funeral then you and I wouldn’t have — you know, and then we wouldn’t be having a baby. Little Kidney Bean.” 

“That’s true. Your mum seemed excited.” 

“Hah, sorry about her. She can be intense.” 

Intense might be the understatement of the century. It took her approximately 2.3 seconds to get over the initial shock of the announcement and really process it before Georgie let out a scream of pure excitement and joy and wrapped both Jamie and (Y/N) up in her arms. She didn’t fully let go for a good 20 minutes. It was intense. It was also phenomenal.

“Don’t apologize. I am so glad she took it so well, Simon too. At least now I’ll have the certainty that my baby will have one set of loving grandparents at least.” 

“Hey,” Jamie says and nudges her shoulder with his “We’ll sort out telling your mum next, okay. I’m sure it’ll go better than you think. And if not we can always call up my mum for some more hugs and a pep talk. Whatever happens, you won’t have to do it alone. I promise.” 

For what is probably the first time in her life (Y/N) lets herself believe that there truly is someone else having her back, undisputedly and all the way. It’s unfamiliar. It’s a little scary. It’s also wonderful.

“Thanks, Jamie. I appreciate it, I really do. Think so far we’re doing alright, huh?” 

“I’d say so. Two sexy parents and a little Kidney Bean.” 

Their laughter echoes through Jamie’s childhood bedroom for quite a while longer until at some point it stills and gives room to soft breathing and quiet snores. The bed isn’t meant for two grown adults and really Jamie truly meant to sleep on the couch but somewhere between talks of baby clothes and childhood memories, eyes grew heavy and tired, and soon enough both of them are fast asleep.

Just them and their little Kidney Bean 

— and a curly-haired Roy Kent 

— and Keeley’s boobs.

taglist (@ me if you want to be taken off or added): @captainfrisbee - @scaramou - @mischiefmanaged71 - @rexorangecouny - @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog - @tweasley20 - @dreamtrydoforkinggood - @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo - @heletsmelovehim - @snubug - @katdahlali - @oldglitterstory - @lalla-04p - @aiyaiy

[genericpuff]

Webtoon Canvas is pay-to-win now, I guess.

DISCLAIMER: All of the series I show here is for the sake of comparing statistics and criticizing Webtoons' Super Likes system. I have nothing personal against these series or their creators and I do not want anyone to get the impression that I am encouraging any sort of action against these creators. The following rant is merely my own observations and opinions concerning Webtoons itself as a platform.

I found out today that Webtoon has implemented a Super Likes ranking board.

This does exactly what it sounds like - it ranks Canvas series based on how many Super Likes they have. Whether or not this ranking board is on a weekly rotation (like the Originals rankings) or just overall, I don't know, but something immediately felt off with this system and it took very little time at all to realize what was really going on here.

When you actually click on the series listed here, it'll tell you how many Super Likes they've accrued overall. The first thing that made me raise an eyebrow was the fact that the Super Likes listed in the ranking boards isn't the same as what's listed in the comics' landing pages, but I chalked that up to a simple delay on WT's end as I can assume the ranking board doesn't refresh at pace with whatever Super Likes are coming in.

But the real red flag was this:

Limitless : Untold is a series with 1,657 followers and seems to get an average of 35-45 likes per episode.

But it somehow has 1,715 Super Likes?

Anyone who's run a Patreon, Ko-Fi, Ad Revenue, or any other sort of revenue-based system with their content will probably realize how that doesn't add up. The reality is that regardless of how many readers / followers you have, only a small fraction of them will actually spend money on your work or to support you. Not every person reading an Originals series is FastPassing. Not every person reading a webcomic is supporting the creator on Patreon. This ratio is even apparent outside of income-based statistics - for example, not every person who follows will read new updates each week and hit the like button (which is why you can have a comic with 1700 followers that only gets a few hundred views and a handful of likes per update). This ratio can be influenced by all sorts of different things, but one thing that doesn't typically happen is for the ratio to flip itself in this fashion.

To put it bluntly: how can a comic with a high of 45 likes in the past 3 months possibly accrue 1,715 Super Likes since it was launched just last week? You've probably already come to the conclusion on your own, but for those who haven't: there's very strong evidence to suggest that creators are buying their own Super Likes to get on this ranking board.

That's assuming the worst of this, though - after all, maybe some of these creators just have super supportive friends who are tossing them a ton of Super Likes? It costs $1 for 5 of them, in this example the amount of Super Likes comes out to approximately $343 (assuming my math is right lmao) which isn't massive amounts of money but it's, again, still really impressive for a comic with only 40 likes on average.

Bu Limitless : Untold isn't the only one in the rankings board that's like this. In fact, the top three spots are occupied by webtoons with the same tilted ratio.

But then, suddenly, after those top three positions, the following webtoons Super Likes totals that make a LOT more sense and reflect the usual ratio more accurately:

The Little Trashmaid, one of the most popular Canvas webtoons of all time and the first one to hit the 1 million subscriber mark in the Canvas section has only accrued 355 Super Likes so far... and you seriously want me to believe a comic like Limitless : Untold with only 0.08% of its readership is somehow genuinely earning five times the amount of Super Likes?

I want to make it clear yet again that I have nothing against the series that have managed to break the system in their own favor. None of this is meant to "slam" them or judge their work or anything of the sort, I'm simply comparing the numbers here and coming to a very reasonable conclusion as someone who's well aware of how ratios like this tend to work in webcomics and content creation. It's just not feasible for the top three comics in the Super Likes ranking boards to organically earn that many Super Likes relative to the sizes of their audiences, especially when compared to the bigger comics that are only pulling in a fraction of that amount. The ratios of Super Likes : actual likes for those bigger comics actually looks reasonable and expected, the ratios for the smaller comics that are sitting at the top are not.

If anything, Webtoons has created a broken system and these creators are simply using that system to their advantage. And I'm not necessarily going to fault them for that because I can get wanting to do whatever it takes to get eyes on your work.

But it does raise the question of what kind of system Webtoons has cultivated here - a system where creators are resorting to Super Liking their own episodes to bump themselves up in the leaderboards.

And before anyone asks me how I can be so sure that these creators are Super Liking their own works - I literally opted into the Super Likes system myself and proceeded to Super Like one of my own episodes.

(this is like the one helpful thing with my work still being on WT even though I'm not updating there anymore, it lets me test shit like this LOL)

So yes, this is a thing that creators can do and it would certainly explain the massive discrepancy in the ratio of Super Likes : regular likes for these smaller series.

This is literally pay-to-win. And who do we have to blame for this? Webtoons, full stop. Not only for implementing a ranking board for an optional monetization service while still allowing creators to use that monetization system to support themselves as a way to climb up that ranking board, but for creating this gross psychological dependency on the platform as the "only way" to build an audience, to the point that people are now paying Webtoons out of their own pocket just to have their thumbnail visible in a ranking board and maybe get some extra views (and 49% of their money back if they hit that $100 threshold). And on top of all that, further putting on the pressure of competition and 'exclusivity' among many budding creators who are doing what they do for free and for fun. Why are creators now being forced to compete in a metric that's solely determined by how much expendable income their own audience has?

Sure, at least this means creators can get themselves into a ranking board by their own power unlike the other categories that are hand-picked by Webtoons and / or determined by daily stats, but at what cost? The literal financial hit of paying for advertising with extra steps, and the ethical dilemma of essentially paying for potential views with microtransactions. This is no better than paying bots on Instagram to follow your profile and inflate your worth to those who aren't following you. None of it is real, it will not legitimize your work to throw money at Webtoons just to have your thumbnail visible in a ranking board. These are microtransactions meant to benefit Webtoons, not you, the creator.

[mediumgayitalian]

“Oh, gods.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Oh, gods.”

Nico scowls, wrenching just eyes away from Will’s poorly-covered grin and shaking shoulders.

It’s not that bad. It isn’t.

Sure, the complete lack of lighting except Greek fire torches makes the cabin look like a little piece of the Underworld, right here on the surface. But that’s comforting. Honestly. Nico knows the Underworld. It’s — familiar.

And, yeah. It would, probably, be pertinent to have some furniture, or something. At least somewhere for him to store his clothes, because he has more than one set of those now, and maybe a shelf, or something. And, admittedly, the obsidian altar could take up a little less space than it currently does.

But it’s not that bad.

“Are those. Coffin shaped beds.”

The tone of Will’s voice is unlike he’s ever heard it. He turns back to face him, slowly, and finds him biting his fist, hard, every muscle of his body tense as live wire.

“I was twelve godsdamn years old,” Nico snaps. “Forgive me if interior design wasn’t my passion.”

Solace loses it.

In his defense, not that Nico is too worried about defending him, he does appear to try very hard to not lose it. When the first giggle slips out of his lips, he clamps his jaw shut tighter. When his whole body begins to shake with the force of repressing his laughter, he curls inward, as if making himself smaller might reduce the chance of a lapse in control.

But then he glances back inside and looks, really looks, at the dreary, stone walls, the lone skeletons standing guard, and the plush, teakwood black coffin bunk beds, and he collapses to the floor.

“I’m going to open a chasm beneath you,” Nico threatens. “You are going to fall and crack your spine into a million pieces on the bank of the Styx, rotting there with every other forgotten hope.”

“You are a Black Parade lyric personified,” Will wheezes.

Nico doesn’t know what that means, so he kicks him. Unfortunately, he only laughs harder.

“I mean it, Solace. It’s a long way down to the Underworld. You will spend the entire fall petrified with the knowledge that nothing can save you.”

For added effect, Nico makes the floor under the medic’s body shake, makes the tip of a skeleton hand peek out from the earth.

Ironically, this stops Will’s laughter, but not for the reason Nico was aiming for.

“Hey!” A bright blue flipflop-clad foot darts out and collides With Nico’s ankle, sending him sprawling. “I said no spooky magic for the next two months! Put that skeleton away!”

“Fuck off, Solace! It’s barely half a bone! You are so annoying!”

“That’s my specialty.” Will pushes himself upright. He waits until Nico sits up, too, so he can catch his eye before his face splits into a dazzling grin. Actual sparkles seem to flicker beside his face. “And you are ever so easy to annoy.”

Nico stares, unimpressed.

“Anyways.” Will coughs. “You can’t stay here, Neeks —”

“Don’t call me that.”

“— it’s straight-up too depressing.” He peers inside. “It’s also cold, and, like…borderline unliveable? So. As your doctor, I can’t allow it.”

“You’re a medic,” Nico says, raising an eyebrow, “first of all, not a doctor. Second of all, you can’t tell me what to do. Third of all — where am I supposed to sleep? The woods?”

“Hm. Good question.”

Will gets to his feet, brushing the dirt off his shorts and offering Nico a hand. After a second of hesitation, he takes it, allowing Will to haul him up.

“C’mon!”

Nico snatches his hand away, face burning. (Gods. Why does Will have to be so…touchy-feely? And why does it always do weird things to Nico’s stomach?) But it hardly takes a look over Will’s shoulder before Nico’s feet are following after him, without his permission.

“Where are we going?”

“Well, my dad’s kind of a hoe,” Will says matter-of-factly. Nico chokes. Will’s grin widens. “And our cabin was built with that in mind. I know we’ve got an extra bunk or two for ya. Hurry up!”

This…cannot be allowed. Nico doesn’t have a ton of Camp Half-Blood experience, or anything, but as far as he knows, Hermes is the only cabin that can really do that. He doesn’t want to incur the wrath of Apollo, or whatever, by staying in his cabin uninvited.

Well. Will’s inviting him, technically. And there’s a confidence to his offer, like maybe this isn’t the first time he’s done it.

“What if I don’t want to live in your stupid sunshine-y cabin,” Nico grumbles, trying to cover up his nerves. “Holding hands and singing about how much I love being alive isn’t really my cup of tea.”

Will snorts. “Oh, di Angelo,” he says dramatically, shaking his head, “you are in for a world of discovery. Welcome to the Cabin Apollo. Take your shoes off at the door and remember that Kayla bites.”

———

Living in the Apollo cabin is strange.

Four days in, and Nico is only just starting to get used to it. He’s not entirely unused to sharing space with people — he’s had two sisters — but the Apollo kids argue like they enjoy doing it. One minute, Will and Kayla will be screaming at each other at the top of their lungs about touching each other’s shit, then they’re teaming up to pull Gracie off Yan’s face for the exact same argument, only now they offer sage advice on respecting boundaries and compromising. It’s bizarre.

(Austin is pretty chill, actually. Nico has noticed him starting quite a few fights — it was he, in fact, who moved Will’s shit and then gracefully framed Kayla — but he has a very powerful eyebrow raise and a very powerful image as Unproblematic. He has quickly become Nico’s favourite.)

He’s only just barely beginning to understand how they work together, and the struggle comes in because everything is so chaotic. When Nico spent time with Hazel in New Rome, she was in the barracks. He never really had to worry about squabbling over counter space in the bathroom with her, because she had her own little toiletry caddie like everyone else, and bathrooms were public. With Bianca — well. There’s no one alive who knows this about her, but she was bossy. She was sweet and wonderful and self-sacrificing and brave and kind and the centre of Nico’s life, but by the gods, did she take her authority as a big sister seriously. She ordered Nico around all the time. He never had to worry much about when he would have the chance to use the bathroom they shared at the Lotus, or who got the T.V. remote, or who go to sit on the bus instead of standing, because he was not the one deciding. He could stick his tongue out and whine all he wanted, but she was boss. He knew that.

The Apollo kids are not like that.

As well as Nico can figure, it’s kind of a free-for-all. You want first shower? Either wake up the earliest — a strategy only Will every manages to employ with any success — or manage to jab an elbow in someone’s rib and sprint. You want whoever’s humming to shut the hell up so you can sleep? Make sure your threats are quick and believable, or just straight up start throwing shit until they finally stop. You want the coveted middle of the bench spot at breakfast? Well, tough shit on that one, actually. Nico has yet to make that one happen for himself.

He won’t admit it, but he has kind of learned to enjoy it. It’s annoying, and the Apollo siblings do indeed sing at all hours of the day (although the content usually skews more towards diss tracks and delighted insults, if not straight-up curses), and it is so godsdamn bright in there, seriously, is it a gimmick or what, but there’s something to be said about the fact that he’s so surrounded by people and chaos that he hasn’t even had the chance to feel lonely. Not even at night, panting to himself after a nasty nightmare, because all it takes is a particularly loud snore from Will one bunk down to remember where he is. To remember that he’s safe — by demigod standards, at least.

But, still.

He kind of misses his privacy.

“Will,” he whispers urgently, on his fifteenth day of rooming with the Apollo weirdos.

The medic hums noncommittally, attention very focused on the test tube in front of him. Nico has been fighting the urge to try and launch a piece of dust inside it for forty minutes, just to make him explode.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Sounds good, Nico.”

Nico narrows his eyes. “You’re ignoring me.”

“Uh-huh. Agreed.”

“I can say anything I want right now.”

“Sure. Maybe double check with Austin.”

“…I’m going to put a colony of ants in your pillowcase.”

“Good idea.”

“Then I’m going to douse your hair products in gasoline and set them aflame.”

“Baller.”

“After that I’m gonna read your super secret diary to the entirety of camp at singalong tonight.”

“You betcha.”

“And then I’m going to shadow travel to Russia.”

Will blinks, frowning. “Hey, no shadow-travelling. What’s this I hear about shadow-travelling?”

Nico rolls his eyes. “Nothing, stupid. You were just ignoring me.”

Will smiles guiltily. “Aw, I’m sorry, Neeks. Got focused on this. I’m finished in twenty, then I’m all yours?”

“…Don’t call me Neeks,” Nico grumbles, furious with himself for how quick he’s relented under wide blue puppy-dog eyes.

“Sorry, Neeks.”

Huffing at Will’s quiet laughter, Nico slides off the nurse’s station counter and wanders around the empty infirmary. Things have luckily finally cooled down in here, nearly three weeks after the end of the Giant War. Some of the exhaustion has faded from Will’s features now that he’s had time to sleep properly.

Not that Nico has noticed, or anything.

“Okay,” Will says a few minutes later, holding his hands up protectively in front of his geeky little setup. “I just gotta do this last step, so long as I calculated it right, it should be fine…” He squeezes a drop of something into the liquid bubbling over the burner, freezing immediately. One, two, three seconds pass and nothing happens, so Will relaxes, sighing in relief and turning to face Nico fully. “Okay, we’re good. What was it you wanted to —”

The text tube contents explode in his face, dousing him in slimey green goo.

Nico bursts out laughing.

“Great,” Will says darkly, swiping the stuff from his eyes. “The one day I don’t wear goggles. Great.”

Nico gasps, sides aching. “Oh my gods —”

“Feel free to help, di Angelo.”

“— you look like a cartoon! Your face!”

It takes Will twelve cloths and seven whole minutes to clean himself and the nurse’s station off of the goo. Nico cackles at him the whole time, and tastefully does not mention the many globs of goo that remain caked in his hair.

“Whenever you’re done.”

Will is very, very bad at being stern when he doesn’t really mean it. And he doesn’t really mean it now, because every time he tries to glare at Nico, his mouth twitches.

“I’m good,” Nico finally wheezes, forcing his face back to normal. “I’m good, I’m good.”

He very pointedly does not look at Will’s hair.

“Dick,” Will huffs, fondness bleeding into his tone. “What did you want?”

He must notice the change in tone at his asking, because he clears the bench fully, hoisting himself on top of it and patting the spot next to him. Nico hesitates for half a second, then crawls up, sitting criss cross applesauce, knees touching.

“I need to move back to my cabin,” he manages, finally.

Will’s face betrays no judgement or emotion. “Oh?”

“Yes.” He picks at a loose thread in his jeans. “I need — space.”

The thread loosens, allowing Nico to tug on it. A hole begins to unravel along the seam as he pulls and pulls and pulls. He stops himself before it gets too wide, tearing the thread off and winding it around his fingers.

“I can tell everyone to tone it down,” Will offers softly, eyebrows creased. “We’ll be more quiet, we’ll —”

Nico places a hand on his knee, cutting off his sentence. “It’s not about that, I promise. You guys have been great.”

A wounded look still pulls at Will’s strong features, as much as he visibly tries to pull his face back to something more supportive. “It’s not?”

“No, no. It’s just —” He frowns, trying to articulate the tangled mess of his thoughts. “I have my own cabin.”

“So?”

“And I can’t stay in yours forever.”

“I mean, you could.”

“Chiron’s been giving me looks, Will.”

“So what! I’ll — write you a doctor’s note, or something!”

Nico snorts. “A doctor’s note letting me sleep in your cabin?”

Will nods fervently, although he seems to acknowledge the ridiculousness of his suggestion, if the grin on his face is any indication. “Yes! For medical reasons, you know.” He mimes writing. “‘Patient’s cabin is dank and sad. To avoid bouts of misery, patient must sleep in the presence of the coolest and best and prettiest and most uplifting people in camp.’”

“Hm. Not sure Chiron’s gonna buy that last part. Not sure I buy that last part, actually.”

“Hey.”

Nico dodges Will’s shove, chuckling.

“Seriously, though, Will. This was never a long term solution, right?”

“I know. You’re cabin just — sucks so bad, man. No offense.”

“I take great offense to that, actually. My cabin is art.”

“Sure, Eddie Cullen.”

“I don’t know who that is, so that’s a horrible insult.”

“Travesty, honestly.”

Outside the open infirmary windows, Nico can hear distant, triumphant screaming, laughter, and the clang of metal. Today’s a good day. The weather’s balmier than usual, for late August, and some of the gloom that’s hung over everyone’s head for the bast few weeks seems to have lifted.

“You can’t go back to your cabin like it is,” Will says into the silence, startling Nico, “but —” he grins when Nico begins to protest, holding up his hand. “We can definitely change it up.”

He slides off the bench, botching his landing and almost sprawling on the floor. He holds a dramatic hand out to Nico when he rights himself. Nico ignores it, rolling his eyes and getting to his feet by himself.

“C’mon,” Will says, grabbing his hand anyway. Sparks shoot up Nico’s arm. “We need to go ask Chiron for the van keys and approximately five hundred dollars.”

———

Three hours is too fucking long to be in a vehicle. Especially when Will is driving, because all he does is play nonstop country music and let everybody cut in front of him.

“I’m driving us back,” Nico informs him as they (finally) get out of the stupid van, snatching the keys from his hands.

Will shrugs. “Sure.”

Nico had expected more of a fight, honestly. But he supposes neither of them are legally allowed to drive, age-wise, and besides, Nico technically has seventy years of driving experience on Will.

(…The Lotus had a racetrack.

Nico was very, very good at it.)

“What is this place, anyway?”

“This place,” Will says grandly, throwing an arm over his shoulders, “is essentially the mortal version of the Labyrinth, minus, you know, the soul-sucking terror.”

“Okay. All that’s telling me is that you have horrible ideas and we should leave immediately.”

Will rolls his eyes. “It’s a furniture store.”

“Well, then —” he punches Will’s shoulder, huffing when he only laughs. “Say that, then!”

“But then what would I do with all the drama in my heart?”

“Choke on it, hopefully!”

Ikea is weird.

Since Will did not tell him what the plan was, he didn’t draw up any plans. Luckily, Will has the dimensions of his cabin — although where he got them, Nico does not ask — so they spend an hour or so in the cafe drawing out a plan.

“You need more than two beds, Neeks.”

“Uh, no I don’t. Unless my father has something very important to announce to me, I need a bed for me, and a bed for Hazel.”

“What if I want to sleep over?”

“You can sleep on the porch.”

Mostly, they wander around the sets. Nico isn’t really sure what he wants his cabin to look like — he has to remind himself that yes, actually, he cares about the space he’ll be spending at least the next three years of his life in. It’s a startling reality, to have control over his own space. He must’ve had some say in his childhood bedroom, but he has no memory of it. He spent the most time in his and Bianca’s room at the Lotus, but that was already furnished when they got there, and besides, it only felt like they were there for less than a year. It always felt like a hotel room, never his room. Westminster was no different. His room in his father’s palace had already been designed, too. In fact he’d based his cabin on it.

What does Nico want his bedroom to look like, without someone else deciding for him?

“I’m not getting a fucking Lightning McQueen bed, Solace.”

“But it would be so sick! And look — it’s got little cubbies!”

“I’m going to ditch you, and shadow travel back to camp,” Nico threatens. “And I have the van keys, so you’ll be stuck here for real.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Will looks at him sternly, hands on hips. “No shadow travelling for you, Death Breath. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t fade into nothing on my watch.”

“I’m joking,” Nico says, exasperated, but cannot deny the warmth that fills him up at Will’s concern.

In the end, he decides on a pretty normal bed. It’s bigger than Will’s bunk (“Or anyone else’s bed,” Will grumbles, “you lucky asshole.”), but not ridiculously designed. He picks a similar size for Hazel, only the frame is white, not black, and the bedspread that comes with it is a soft, coral pink that he knows she will like.

“Wanna see if they’ve got a Mythomagic bedspread for yours?” Will teases.

That would be the coolest thing ever in the entire world, Nico thinks, and is so embarrassed that he shoves Will, shrieking, into a giant basket of pillows for making him think it.

“Obviously I don’t want that.”

“You are such a turd! I’ll get you, di Angelo!”

He does not. Nico is way too sneaky for him, and after the fifth time Nico manages to give him the slip, he gives up, sulking in a display for a bedroom of a nine year old girl.

“Fitting,” Nico teases, gesturing to the princess wallpaper. “You drama queen.”

“Buzz off.”

Next, they look for furniture. It’s pretty easy — Nico doesn’t need much, and he’s not too concern with cut or style or anything. He quickly picks out two dressers, one to match Hazel’s bed frame, and one to match his, and then a couple bookshelves.

Four hours into their trip, Nico is exhausted. They have a three hour drive ahead of them, they’ve been out all day, and he wants to go home.

But Will stops him before they go get all the boxes for their furniture.

“This is still pretty bare bones,” he says quietly, then grins at his own accidental pun. Nico shoots him a venomous look, warning him against making it more obvious, and for once he actually listens. “You know, we’re still under budget. We’ve got around $200 left — we can get a motel, stay the night, then we don’t have to drive back right away. And tomorrow, maybe we can check out some other stores, look for smaller decorations and stuff. And if we don’t have to drive back tonight, we’ve maybe got another hour in here, if you wanted to get a couple more pieces.”

Nico opens his mouth to refuse — that’s way too much effort to spend on one person’s cabin, c’mon — then pauses, thinking about it.

Chiron hadn’t even thought about it before handing them the money. Will had barely gotten the words out before he’d started counting out the bills.

“I want you to make a home here,” the centaur had said, touching his hand. There was a pain in his kind eyes, stopping any protests. “I made a mistake, Nico, the first time you came here. In another life, you felt welcome enough to stay the whole time. Take what you need.”

What does he need? What does home look like, to him?

“There was a beanbag chair, in our room at the Lotus,” he says, pushing the words past the lump in his throat. “Me and Bianca used to fight over it.” His voice shakes. A tear gathers at the corner of his eye, and he blinks it back. “It wasn’t real fighting. When I called mercy she’d — scoop me up and throw me on it and squish in after me, and we’d sit together and play video games. Or read. She liked to read.”

Will squeezes his trembling hands. “We can get a beanbag chair.”

“And I — don’t like the blackout curtains. The dark makes me think of — the pit.”

“Okay. They sell lotsa lamps here, too. Might be nicer than the Greek fire.”

Nico nods. There’s — more, far more ideas, now, flooding his brain; Hazel crowding over him on a rug-covered floor, shrieking as he teases her about Frank; a desk tucked in the corner where Will sits, mouthing along to his textbooks as Nico sharpens his sword; Jason running his fingers along rows of books on a big, cluttered shelf; Reyna with her fist curled around her mouth, studying a chess board across from him, hair shining under the natural light from the window.

He can have that. He can have that.

Thankfully, all their stuff fits in the back of the van. Despite his insistence earlier, Nico hands Will the keys, and he drives around until he finds a shitty motel with a vacancy sign flashing out front. He pulls into the farthest corner of the parking lot, killing the engine, then waits.

“You okay?”

Nico shrugs. “I’m…not sure.”

“That’s okay,” Will assures, pressing a fleeting touch to his shoulder. Nico grabs his wrist before he moves away, tugging down his hand and linking their fingers together.

For once, it doesn’t make him feel all sparky. The warmth of Will’s hands is grounding, and so is the gentle squeeze, the smile he feels pointed in his direction.

“C’mon. Let’s check in and sleep, huh?”

Nico’s exhaustion compounds in the walk from the car to the lobby, so by the time Will is speaking quietly to the host, he’s half asleep, leaning on Will’s shoulder. He vaguely feels it when Will shifts his weight, sliding a hand around his waist to hold him better. He blinks and they’re standing in front of a door.

“Almost there, Death Boy,” he murmurs. “Hold on a sec.”

It takes him six separate tries to make the keycard work. He gets huffy when Nico snickers tiredly at him.

“Finally, yeesh.”

He guides Nico in, dropping the backpack he brought somewhere near the door. As soon as the bed is within Nico’s sights, he makes a beeline, barely remembering to shuck his shoes and jacket.

“Please do not sleep in your jeans.”

“Mmmfuck off,” Nico groans, already sliding under the covers. He’ll regret it in the morning, but whatever.

“Goober.” Callused hands brush through his hair, resting lightly on his forehead. “Goodnight, Nico.”

Nico’s out before he can even think to respond.

———

He wakes up, in the middle of the night, scream caught in his throat and heart pounding in his ears. The air smells like smoke and fear. The rushing of the Phlegethon is so loud it’s overpowering.

A loud snore knocks him back to reality.

Crawling desperately towards the source of the sound, he hangs over the bed, eyes adjusting rapidly to the dark to see a curled lump on the floor, head resting on his own hands. A quick glance behind him confirms the other half of the bed has been left untouched.

“Stupid,” he mumbles, tiny smile chasing away the last of his fear.

He tugs the blankets off the mattress, pulls off the two pillows, and joins his dumbass, selfless friend on the floor.

———

“Question,” Will asks, swallowing the last of their disgustingly delicious greasefest of a breakfast. “Were you alive when Walmart was invented?”

“I was alive before your great grandmother was.”

“No, I mean — were you out and kickin’. Have you strolled the endless aisles of corporate soullessness, basking in the wonder of American overconsumerism?”

“…You’re such a weird, particular person.”

Will looks delighted. “You’re a Walmart newbie!”

He pulls into the dead, cracked parking lot way too happily for this hour in the morning. Nico would even say he takes the nearest exit to get to the store gleefully. He is embarrassed for him.

Walmart is…underwhelming.

As stupid as it is, Will had hyped it up so much that Nico was almost a little excited. It just looked like any other basic superstore. Will, for whatever reason, seemed delighted by that fact.

“I do not like this store,” he explained when Nico asked, expression not matching his words, “it just means so very much to me that you are joining me in the misery of having experienced it.”

They spend more time than they mean to just dicking around. At one point they nearly get thrown out by management, because Will finds a pair of NERF guns that some child dug out of its packaging and no words need to be spoken. They gear up and scamper off, hunting each other through fluorescent-lights hell.

“Please just get your shit and leave,” says the very tired looking manager, and they have the good gall to at least appear embarrassed as they mumble, “Yes, ma’am.”

It doesn’t take long when they have their head on straight. They get some fairy lights, a couple cool posters, dorky little trinkets that Nico probably doesn’t need, per se, but what was he supposed to do, leave the little plastic crow skeleton behind?

Unlikely.

With his own money, Will buys several cans of paint and a CD. He explains neither of these purchases. The look on his face gets steadily more infuriating as they make their way through the line, and Nico really, truly considers leaving him behind.

The purchase of the CD becomes very obvious very quickly. Even though Nico is driving, and therefore Nico should get music control, Will pouts and pleads until Nico gives in and lets him play his stupid country album. He justifies his decision in his own brain by noticing the radiance of Will’s smile as he belts out the words, badly, at the top of his lungs. He then spends the rest of the drive back to camp convincing himself not to be embarrassed for having said thoughts.

They get back to camp about lunch time, and Will destroys any attempt for a subtle reentry by whistling the second they cross the property line.

“Austin! Kayla!” he hollers, making Nico jump. “Come help us unload!”

“We coulda done it ourselves,” Nico grumbles.

Will pats his head condescendingly. “It has been twenty-four long, long hours since I’ve bosses my siblings around, Neeks. I need this.”

It does go by quite a bit quicker with Austin and Kayla’s help. Lou Ellen, Cecil, Yan, and Gracie come to help, too, but Gracie’s too little to carry much more than a small desk lamp. Instead, they lay down the biggest box — Nico’s bed frame — and let her climb on top of it, carrying her like she’s a queen atop a throne back to Nico’s cabin. She has the time of her life, giggling to herself like a madwoman.

By the time everything’s unloaded, a couple hours have passed, and the Hades cabin looks like a clusterfuck.

“Maybe you stay in Apollo a couple more nights,” Will suggests.

“Might have to,” Nico agrees. Will looks inordinately pleased with himself.

All in all, it takes about two days to disassemble the old furniture, get rid of it, and start putting together the new stuff. Will helps for most of it, but he has a few shifts in the infirmary, so Nico ends up trying to do a fair bit on his own.

“May the wrath of Zeus come down upon this fucking piece of shit, no good, poorly designed garbage-looking idiotic mother fuc —”

“Maybe time for a break from furniture assembling?” suggests a voice, accompanied by a quick knock in the open door. Will leans on the doorframe, grinning, box propped up on his hip.

“Will, thank the gods,” Nico sighs, relieved. He angrily shakes a tool in his direction. “Allen wrenches are fucking useless. I’m three seconds away from throwing this through the window.”

“Definitely time for a switch, then.”

Will’s smile is wide and crinkles his eyes. He’s got dimples, too, Nico is now noticing, and then very rapidly un-noticing then because gods above that is a dangerous path.

“Did you and Rachel get into another prank war?” he asks, praying the flush on his cheeks goes away.

Will glances down at his paint-spattered clothes. “Nah, this is just my painting outfit. Why ruin more than one set of clothes, you know?” He sets down the box in the middle of the room, then heads for the half-built furniture sprawled all throughout the cabin, tugging it all towards the middle. Nico inches towards the box, curious, and finds it full of dozens of paint cans and brushes, including the ones he got at Walmart.

“I didn’t know you painted.”

He flashes another grin in Nico’s direction. This one has a little mischief to it, a little teasing. His stomach swoops.

“Gotta have at least one artistic talent or my dad would disown me. Help me tape down this tarp, will you?”

It takes them twenty minutes to prep the room, protecting the floor and the furniture. Once everything is ready, Will jogs over to the CD player he gave Nico a few days ago, flicking through the stack of CDs and choosing one at random. Soft opera music begins to float around the cabin.

“Okay,” he begins, clapping his hands, “first we need a base coat. Get the white paint and the rollers.”

It takes them the rest of the day, painting until dinner, then waiting past sunset for it to dry. Nico follows Will back to his cabin that night — he wouldn’t let him sleep around the paint fumes — and the two of them return the next morning, re-donning their paint-spattered clothes. Will braids his hair, this time, tucking the little pigtails behind a kerchief. It makes Nico smile every time he looks at him.

As much as he’s in painting clothes, Nico doesn’t really do much of the painting. He stays in the centre of the room, half assembling furniture, half watching Will bring his walls to life with more colours than he’s ever seen in one place.

Will doesn’t ask what Nico wants him to paint in his murals. Instead, Nico watches as the streets of Venice begin to unfold on one of the walls, bright and blue and exactly as he remembers, even though he knows for a fact Will has never been. The shining fruit of his stepmother’s garden is next, with a notable absence of the pomegranate tree, and then the hills of New Rome, the sunflower field in rural New York Nico used to visit, the Chinese mountainscape from the first big shadow travelling jump he ever made. Even the poplar forests of the Underworld, looking much kinder and livelier in Will’s rendition than in real life, with Mrs. O’Leary and Cerberus chasing each other through the flickering leaves. Beautiful, colourful, breathtaking scenes; Nico’s favourite places, Nico’s many homes.

“I get a lot of dreams,” Will admits, dragging a smear of rich purple near the ceiling. “You’re in a lot of them. These are the places you’re smiling, the most.”

“They’re beautiful, Will.” Nico’s throat is drier than any desert he’s ever been to. “Gods, they’re more beautiful here than they are in real life.”

“Liar,” Will teases, although his smile is shy.

Nico has never seen him smile like that. He’s seen a lot more of Will in these past few days, actually; his softness, his kindness, his love.

He has only knows Will for a little over a month, he thinks. But Will loves him. That much is obvious.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

His eyes are still trained on his work. He is on his tiptoes on a step stool, one leg extended precariously, tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth. The curve of his brush is careful, meticulous. Only the best for his friends, for Nico. That’s Will.

“Hey,” Nico says again, more urgently. He steps forward, wrapping his fingers around his wrist.

“Just a sec, Neeks, as soon as I’m done we can —”

Nico pulls until he loses his balance, falling into Nico’s arms. He stares into wide, blue blue eyes, for one second, two, then presses their lips together. Will’s squeak of surprise is swallowed by his mouth, hands sliding up his arms to cup his face, tilting his head to the side.

“Oh,” he sighs, eyelashes ticking Nico’s cheeks as they flutter close. “Oh.”

He melts into Nico’s hold. There’s a thunk and a crinkle as his paintbrush falls from his loose fingers, splattering onto the tarp, and paint-wet hands tangle into his hair. Nico finds he doesn’t mind.

“You love me,” he murmurs in between breaths, lips brushing Will’s with every word.

“Yes,” Will breathes. He kisses Nico again, and again. “A lot.”

“Good.” He’s not sure if it’s the paint fumes making him lightheaded, or the odd, slightly uncomfortable position, or the intoxicating, delirious feel of Will’s warm skin. He’s not sure if he cares. “Good.”

It’s not quite an I-love-you-too. The words won’t form on his tongue, so instead he tightens his hold, sending them that way, and presses closer, closer, closer.

Will smiles into the kiss.

He understands just fine.

[poltxrgxist]

The Water is Fine (hsr isekai fic)

Dan Heng x Reader x Blade

Pt.1/???

CW/TW for series *more will be added eventually* - Gore, Murder, Blade, Typical HSR violence, description of medical treatments/injuries, Typical Demon Slayer violence, Canon but also not canon, Eventual Smut so MDNI 18+

A/N - got a little silly and decided to indulge myself in a poly relationship with RenHeng. Also had to mix the two main fandoms I’m in. This was also finished on an airplane so like, no proofreading done yet.

Expect grammar/spelling errors due to my dyslexia.

WC - 1715 - Crossposted to Ao3

A girl sat quietly on a roof, gazing out at the sunrise. It was a relatively quiet night in the butterfly mansion, she didn’t even notice the girl with pink and green hair coming up from behind her til they spoke, “Is something on your mind?”

The other girl startled had quickly turned to look at the source of the voice, her body visibly relaxed once she recognized the girl. “Oh. Mitsuri, how are you feeling?”

“I’m doing fine, I’m more worried about you (Y/N) you haven’t given yourself a break since…” Mitsuri seemed hesitant, unsure if it was the best idea to continue with her words, worried about how it’d affect the other girl seeing as it was still a fresh wound.

“I know I haven’t… however it’s been a quiet night so I suppose it’s been a quiet night which has been sorta of a break.” (Y/N) responded briefly as she turned back to look at the horizon.

“Then why do you look so glum?” Mitsuri asked as she took a seat next to her.

“Just thinking about stuff,” She responded, her gaze unmoving, Mitsuri seemed to frown at this response but looked at sunrise alongside (Y/N).

“Do you want to share what you’re thinking about?” Mitsuri inquired softly, trying not to stress her out too much.

(Y/N) inhaled softly before letting out a breathy sigh, “Do you think there are other worlds out there? A reality where the world isn’t terrorized by demons… a world free of Kibutsuji or a world where things are completely different than here.”

Mitsuri didn’t respond immediately, just closing her eyes before letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Maybe… if there are different realities or worlds I do hope we get the world free of demons. What made you bring this up?”

(Y/N) shrugged, “I don’t know I’ve just been reading a lot of things and there has been a theory of alternative universes.. some people think people can be pulled into these worlds without warning.”

Mitsuri hummed softly, “You say that like you want to be pulled into a different universe.”

“Wha-? Of course not! Someone has to take care of the butterfly mansion.” (Y/N) was appalled by Mitsuri’s accusation even if it wasn’t meant with any ill intention.

“I’m just messing with you, you already have your worlds with how much you daydream.” She teased as she playfully nudged (Y/N).

(Y/N)’s face flushed a rosy hue as she looked away due to embarrassment. Her gaze landed on the small piece of a jade pendant she wore on her uniform belt. “I can’t help but fantasize about the history of this jade pendant I have.”

“I don’t blame you. It looks like a piece of a whole pendant, I wonder how many pieces are left and if other people have the missing parts.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, “Are you sure you don’t fantasize about it more than I do?”

“Hey, don’t blame me! Who wouldn’t be curious about the history of this mysterious pendant? Ever since you told me about when I started teaching you love breathing, I just am dying to know the history since you also have no idea.” Mitsuri giggled as she briefly glanced at the jade pendant on (Y/N)’s belt.

“Logically speaking though it likely doesn’t have a cool history, it’s probably just an old pendant that has been in my family and it just broke over time. Also speaking of love breathing, I know I’ve said this a million times now but thank you for teaching me it. It feels nice to have a breathing style that suits my body.”

Mitsuri rolled her eyes, “It’s nothing, you picked up so quickly like you were the one who made the style!”

“It was because I had a great teacher.” (Y/N) snickered as she reached up and poked Mitsuri’s nose with a playful smirk. She then looked back at the sunrise and yawned.

“Why don’t you head to bed? I can keep watch, besides I don’t have any missions.” Mitsuri nudged (Y/N) gently to convince her to go to sleep.

“Don’t you have a region to patrol though?” (Y/N) asked after blinking a few times to clear the watery eyes from yawning.

“Nope. Giyuu agreed to cover it for me since it’s so close to his region that he patrols. Besides the master wants me to keep an eye on you, to make sure you don’t do anything harmful to yourself.”

(Y/N) was about to remark that she would be fine and that she wasn’t tired but had yawned again instead. She let out a sigh of defeat after yawning before standing up, “Alright, fine I’ll go to bed.” She bowed her head, exchanging a good night with Mitsuri. She then jumped off the roof and headed into the butterfly mansion. Her steps are quiet to avoid making noise to wake up any patients who may be sleeping.

She quietly pushed open the door to her room, stepping inside. She walked over to her vanity, getting ready to take out her butterfly hair clip. She then spotted a strange black crystal with golden undertones to it. (Y/N) blinked a few times in confusion, “Huh…? I didn’t put this here..” She murmured to herself as she reached out to pick it up.

She paused when she felt a strange energy coming off it. It felt hot, yet not enough to cause burns on the skin. She wasn’t sure if she should grab it, but she wanted to see if it had a tag saying who it was from. She assumed one of the girls had left it as a gift but it certainly didn’t seem like something that they’d get her. She looked around her vanity, to see if there was a note nearby. She let out a breath as she stepped back, “No note… just a strange crystal on my vanity that I didn’t put there… just everyday things..”

She ran a hand through her hair, moving some of her hair out of her face. “Alright… what's the worst thing that could happen? It might just be feeling like that because I haven’t slept all night.” She was desperately trying to reason with herself, trying to find any sort of logic that she could. However, she couldn’t find anything that seemed logical in this situation.

She shook her head and just grabbed the crystal. She didn’t even get to process what had happened when she got blinded by a bright light. When the bright light subsided, it was cold, like the winter air clinging to her body. But then she heard voices which caused her to open her eyes. Wincing at the bright light, she gave her eyes a moment to adjust before she looked around.

Tensing up when she noticed five people looking at her. She tensed up, instinctively placing her hand on the hilt of her sword, she was about to speak before the woman with long gray hair spoke, her weapon aimed at her, “Name yourself.”

(Y/N) tensed up, she didn’t understand what they were saying, it was a foreign language, well it was foreign at least to her. She tilted her head before speaking, hoping they’d understand her, “I.. I’m sorry. What did you say?”

The people standing before her shared confused glances with eachother. The pink haired girl looked at the male, saying something, “Dan Heng you’re smart, do you know what she said?”

The male looked shocked for a brief moment before quickly regaining her composure. “No, I don’t. However, it might be easier if we bring her to Belobog so she can write something so we can translate on our phones.”

The two gray haired girls nodded her head, while the black haired girl spoke, “But what should we do about Cocolia? Do we tell the people that she died?”

While four of them talked amongst themselves Dan Heng approached (Y/N) holding a hand out. She instinctively placed her hand on the hilt of her sword, eyeing the male suspiciously. He looked familiar but she couldn’t figure out why, but she assumed he looked similar to a slayer she saw. The male noticed her holding the hilt of her sword, he retracted his hand, holding both hands up to show he meant no harm. She blinked a few times, lessing the tension in her body, still being extremely cautious and wary. Dan Heng visibly relaxed before lowering his arms and extending a hand towards her.

(Y/N) very hesitantly took the extended hand, allowing the male to help her up to her feet. She didn’t let go as the male led her over to the group. She watched as they talked amongst themselves, while she held the male’s hand. The pink haired girl seemed to notice and smirked at the male, grabbing what (Y/N) could only assume was a camera. It looked different then what she remembered they looked like but she assumed technology was a lot different here then Japan. The male narrowed his eyes, “March…”

The pink haired girl giggled, “Please! It’s the most action you’ll ever get with a girl.”

“No. We can’t even ask if she’s okay with taking a photo because she doesn’t understand us.” Dan Heng shook his head, not even going to respond the remark March had made. “Anyways, have you guys decided what we’re going to do?”

“I will be telling people that mother sacrificed herself to rid of the stellaron. It’s best if they don’t know what actually happened.” Bronya spoke, the others didn’t give much of a reaction.

“I suppose our sudden guest will be handled by the astral express, huh?” March asked, placing a hand on her hip.

Bronya nodded, “I figured it would be best as she did appear after the energy from the stellaron overwhelmed my mother’s body.”

Dan Heng nodded, “When we return I’ll send a message to Mr. Yang and Himeko.” The group exchanged a few more words with each other before they began walking. (Y/N) continued to hold Dan Heng’s hand as she didn’t want to get lost and wasn’t the best at navigating snowy terrain.

[sgiandubh]

Last minute Swifties

Contrary to what many thought and some posted, I do think the OL cast's Taylor Swift experience was a last minute promo idea, very much monitored by *** and Tall Ships. I was wrong about minder/security guy (still, eerie...) and I never have a problem publicly admitting it. But quite unlikely I am wrong about this one. And sorry for the length, but you know how I am when I am looking for something, right?

Let's unpack: cast thanked the 'organizers' (and minders, really) in very specific terms, leaving NO much doubt:

Louisa McCulloch. Remember this name, we shall meet her in one hot minute. So thank you Louisa and Maril for organizing this: ask yourselves why did Maril, who (as far as I know) is based in the US, have to come to Edinburgh just for the gig. Damage control, perhaps?

And Sophie S., with a remarkable choice of words:

'Thank you ***, TS and her team for making it happen'. In my book, this means a strong, common effort to secure the box last minute. Because 'making it happen' means exactly that: 'need to do everything you can to facilitate it'.

Clearly Skelton, who is a Swiftie in her own right, was particularly appreciative of the efforts it took to ensure everyone could attend the concert. If that were a long planned event, her enthusiasm would have been more temperate, I think. 'Adding more Swifties to the clan' - LOL, Sophie, you mean S and C had no idea of the lyrics and were unable to sing along with you, John Bell, Izzy and Co (I keep forgetting their names and I like them a lot, in the show)? People of my generation are already too damn old for Taylor S. And this different sort of music might be more of S's real preference: otherwise why post it in his stories, as if to say ' TS is a different thing altogether'?

James. A Manchester rock band, formed in 1982, popular in the Nineties. I see no lies: he was clear 'JAMMF is a Swiftie'. And we are, after all, Children of the Nineties, not TS's crowd. And yes, I knew S was into the same kind of music as I was, in the Nineties (he seems to have stayed put, right there, unlike me, LOL):

Anyways, back to the mysterious woman up and front on three pictures in a row, that got many speculating. Nope, that was not Wendy, the MUA and S's bestie:

Once...

... Twice...

... Three times a lady:

Her name is Louisa McCulloch, née Radcliffe and she is the one S thanked, along with Maril (see above). It was a bit hard finding her, because her IG account is private. But I found her alright on Facebook, and then LinkedIn (of course):

Based in Lockerbie, Scotland. 20 years experience as a media publicist:

Worked with *** and Tall Ships since Season 3, after a short stint as Head of Publicity at the Paramount Pictures London Office. Got promoted from Unit Publicist to Publicist during COVID, for Season 6. So yes, she is the one who made it happen, locally, on what I think was a quite short notice.

Attention successfully diverted. Impeccable timing and giving a younger crowd what it wants. Trying to capitalize on TS's huge Instagram fan base: 283 million followers (wow! I had no fucking idea she was so huge). A win-win situation for just about everyone and an elegant way out from sordid waters:

And it worked. Lost among the hundred of thousands of likes and comments, look who's jumping on the bandwagon:

Sharon Stone. With a Blue Check and her 3.9 million Instagram fanbase. A Nineties deity, need I remind you (this blogger spotted her during the Berlinale 2007, while I was going out for drinks, blissfully unaware we were all staying at The Adlon, LOL)?

They mutually follow each other on Insta, by the way. I wonder why *urv did not pounce on that one. I feel robbed, for once, of a wonderful fanfic.

[Later edit] Several comments take on this person without a proper justification. I am editing this post to remind you she is only responsible for the implementation (in Scotland) of decisions taken elsewhere (in the United States of America). She is NOT a decision maker and as Publicist, was probably responsible for the local implementation of a hasty decision to attend an event (secure VIP box at Murrayfield, sell content to the local press). The direct contact with TS's team was, very likely, Maril and upwards, in the hierarchy. In all fairness, she has nothing to do with a billboard spotted in Los Angeles, USA - nothing of the sort in Europe. I am all for taxing, but let's tax people who are really RESPONSIBLE: she is just a very well paid underling. Thank you all, I am sure you understand fairness can only add to our credibility as a group.

[esoteric-joke]

Interview with Brooklyn_Babylon

(#Interview3)

Welcome to the next interview of the Dear Writer Project. This Sunday I’m here with Gina (twopoppies here on Tumblr). Thank you so much for participating and supporting my project. It was a pleasure to interview you.

Gina about her writing process, her inspirations and what she finds most challenging about writing:

What does your writing process look like?

Oh, you're going to call me out right from the get-go, huh? LOL! My writing process is that I am a complete pantser. I hate outlining and I'm not good at it (probably why I hate it). I generally get inspired by something visual and then build a story around that. The difficulty is that often, there's a concept, but there's no real story to tell. Or, I can't quite flesh it out enough to make it worth writing. But when something connects, I go bother India (indiaalphawhiskey on Tumblr) who is my beta/BFF/cheerleader and we'll talk through the story idea.

She's super helpful in terms of pushing me to think it through enough that I can write a very basic outline of what needs to happen to get from A to B. Then, I wing it. LOL!

What does writing mean to you?

From the time I was a kid, I've always been involved in doing something artistic--from fine art, to costume design, to writing, etc. I've just always needed some way to express myself, creatively. It took me a long time to get comfortable writing fiction because there are a few people in my family who are highly respected authors, and I felt I needed something of my own to sink my teeth into. But now that I've started, I realize how much I do love it (even when I hate it), and how much it allows me to dig deep into my own thoughts and emotions and be more self-aware. Beyond that, I think I'm at my most comfortable when I feel I'm helpful/supportive/nurturing. I used to write non-fiction that gave me that outlet. It's interesting that I can see those aspects in my fiction writing, as well.

Do you know before you start writing if an idea is going to become a oneshot or a longer fic?

I can generally tell if there's enough of a story to make it a chaptered fic. Sometimes the chapters just separate naturally.

Like, in An Invincible Summer, the story unfolded so that each chapter was a different month. But I had a basic idea of how I wanted the story to progress over that time period. I think, for the most part, I let the story dictate how it's going to flow.

You don’t write (or publish) as regularly as some other writers in the fandom. Why is that and would you like to write/publish more in the future?

Part of the reason is that I have a really busy life outside of the fandom (and writing). I also don't like to write just to fill up space. And I don't want to publish anything I don't think is the best I'm capable of at that moment.

On top of that, I'm just not one of those people who has a million stories in my head. I'm very visually stimulated and there are long periods of time where I just don't feel inspired. I also second-guess myself a lot and often end up shelving my WIPs. And... even when I'm inspired, I tend to write slowly. I like to take time to make sure I'm really saying what I want to say in the best way I can. I want to grow and challenge myself with each story I publish. I just don't see a point in doing it without that sort of intention.

On which of your stories did you write the longest?

I think An Invincible Summer probably took the longest. But it was also one of the easiest for me to write because the story just wrote itself in some ways. I had a much clearer picture from the start of how things were going to unfold. At the same time, there were moments that just happened as I wrote that ended up shifting the story from what I'd originally planned.

I recently went back and re-wrote that fic, adding another 10K to flesh it out better. I'm so much happier with it (even though I loved it before), but I haven't published the updated version on AO3. Not sure whether I will.

Which of your stories came together the fastest?

The first one (Whoever, However). But it's also only 9K. Harry dropped that Beauty Papers spread and my brain exploded. The story was all there. I think Hike Up Your Skirt was probably the next quickest (again, it's not terribly long), but that one I originally wrote for the Anonymous Unicorns collection so there was a lot of freedom in getting to write anything I wanted without fear of judgment. If I could only harness that, I'd be able to bang them out!

What fic of yours was the hardest to write?

I think Literally Making Love.

It was an unusual premise, in that it's about a robot and a human falling in love, but I really struggled with whether I should make it "more" than a love story. It felt like it deserved to be "more", or that it should have more about how AI changes the world and a conversation about loneliness and the way the world contributes to that. So I kept feeling like I wasn't going down the right path with what I was writing, but India reminded me that there's just as much value in a lighthearted story as there is in "serious" writing. We all know the joy of sinking into a comfort fic, or kicking our feet at something really sweet and happy. So I let Literally Making Love be what it wanted to be and I was ultimately super proud of it. And, in the end, I think I did a good job of dealing with the ethical issues, even though I didn't make that the center of the fic.

What inspires you most while writing?

Visuals to begin with. I tend to get inspired by photos or a piece of art. Sometimes song lyrics. But visuals keep me going so I make moodboards for myself and I find quotes or pictures on Tumblr that feel like they belong to the story. I think all of my fics have a link to an inspiration tag on my blog.

And then talking through things with India.

It's so helpful to have someone who gets what you're shooting for and who has the same sense of what makes for good writing. So I'll brainstorm with her when I'm stuck or give her sections to see if it's reading the way I want it to... It keeps me going.

I don't know how writers do it all by themselves. There are times when I've read something so many times that I can't even tell if it's any good. And I do the same for her... helping her get through her writing challenges or brainstorming her projects also makes me a better writer.

In the notes of Literally Making Love you mentioned a 9 month long writers block. What helped you out of it?

Truly it was just that piece of fan art I linked in the note at the start. I'd never seen that artist's work before and this drawing of Louis building an unfinished Harry ended up on my dash and I said, "Well, I'd read the hell out of that." Sadly, no one else was going to write it for me, so I had to do it myself.

While talking about this, I pointed out that I searched a few tags of this particular trope after I finished reading Literally Making Love and couldn’t find more than a handful of fics, which I was surprised by.

Gina thinks people are put off by the idea even if there are so many ways to handle it that could make for a beautiful story.

What do you find most challenging about writing?

I was about to say finding a title, but then I realized that I only had trouble with that in two of the five I wrote.

Hmm. Honestly, I think the most difficult thing for me to write are arguments/fights.

I tend to be really passive-aggressive when I argue, and that doesn't make for very good reading. So I really have to work at crafting a back-and-forth that feels natural but also packs enough of a punch for the scene to work. In An Invincible Summer, the argument scene was pretty pivotal, and one of my betas at the time made me re-write it three times before she signed off on it.

Is there anything you can tell me about future projects you’re planning?

I'm working on another historical fic at the moment. It's slow burn and longer than anything I've written before. So that's a challenge. It's set in the 1880s between the Belle Epoch debauchery and decadence of Paris, and Victorian London's rigid social structure and moral conservatism. Basically, Harry is a French ballet dancer turned sex worker/courtesan. Louis is a British aristocrat whose father has sent him off to Paris to get "the gay" out of his system before he has to marry. There are some twists and turns, and I'm having a lot of fun trying to keep things sexy and exciting for a modern reader while still being true to the time period.

I still don't have a title, and I'm still working on a brief description to sum it up. But... I'm about 60K in and I'm having fun.

When I told Gina that that sounds like you’d have to but lot of research into it, she said:

So much research! But I actually love that part. I get really into the nitty gritty and look up everything. For example, did you know the ice cream cone wasn't invented until 1896 (although not patented until 1903)? LOL! I had to change a scene I was writing because all of a sudden, I thought, "Did they have ice cream then? How did they keep it cold? How did they eat it?" I honestly hate reading something when little details are wrong. It totally pulls me out of a story.

For the next part of the interview, I asked Gina a few questions about her works in particular.

Gina about her favourite scene she wrote, her experience with writing before writing fanfics and being inspired by her own family’s history:

What work of yours is your personal favourite?

Hm. I think Literally Making Love is my favorite because it's the most unique concept, and I'm really proud of some of the writing in that one.

Hike Up Your Skirt is, I think, my most popular one. But that's not surprising because it's complete filth.

Do you have a favourite scene that you wrote?

There's a scene in Literally Making Love when they're walking the dog through the woods, and they're talking about the concept of being lonely, and Harry realizes he's the only one in the world who can understand anything he's experienced. I just really loved how that scene came together. To me it's very visual, and it's got that kind of poetic, dreamy feeling to it that I love to find in fics (and am forever trying to emulate, but I think that might be the only time I've succeeded so far).

I told Gina that this was a scene that definitely made me think about the concept of being all alone with an experience. Here’s what she said about that:

I like moments in a story that make you stop and think about more than just the story you're reading. I think these days, we can much more easily connect with others who can understand most of our experiences very deeply. Although, I imagine if you were the only highly advanced AI robot in the world, you might have some experiences no one else has had to grapple with.

Is there a work of yours that was planned to go completely different than it came out in the end?

There are definitely moments within the stories that I never planned on, and they changed some aspects of how the story ultimately came together.

For example, in An Invincible Summer, the idea for Harry to hold on to memories by getting a camera popped out of nowhere.

In Literally Making Love, the scene of Louis painting Harry's tattoos over his scars came in a dream and that meant I added the aspect of Harry's body dysmorphia. So, little things for sure.

Whoever, However was your first fic you published. Did you write in any form before that?

I did.

I wrote non-fiction for a bunch of magazines and online outlets. I've also ghostwritten three books.

Beyond that, no. Just lengthy blog posts about two gay boybanders.

What were your inspirations for gathered on wings?

There was a photo of Louis in some sort of haphazardly layered jackets and standing in front of these graffitied walls, and it had this caption, saying that he looked like a PhD candidate at the Sorbonne. That was how the idea started.

I had wanted to write a teacher/student fic without the creepy aspect of grooming and inappropriate conduct, and somehow my comment led to Harry having been his intern and them meeting again years later.

Then, the research on all the modern art and the high-end art world informed the rest of the story.

You didn’t go much into detail how successful Harry’s art got after ‘Comrade’ recommended his art for an exhibition at the Marlborough Gallery. Was that the push Harry’s work needed to get the attention it deserved?

It was.

He'd been relying on sugar daddies to pay his way and to give him the connections to patrons. But Comrade vouching for him opened the doors to him being able to do it independently. It's that feeling of, "If I could just get my foot in the door, I could show them what I can do."

That was his foot in the door.

Gathered on wings was my first attempt at writing a chaptered fic, and there was a huge learning curve. There are parts of it I really like and parts I sometimes want to go back and re-write.

Do you think Louis’ identity in gathered on wings always stayed hidden even after they got engaged (and eventually married)?

I like to imagine that as Harry became more widely known, people became interested in his partner. And Louis would then decide to reveal his identity with a new installation that they collaborated on.

Staying hidden when your partner is famous is probably a hard thing to do.

I think so. Especially if you're in the same field. In a way, it mirrors the idea of the two of them coming out at some point.

You said in the notes for An Invincible Summer that it’s inspired by your grandfather’s life. Was that your only inspiration for the story?

It's what set the scene. Other than that, I knew I wanted to write about writing and seeing yourself in a book or feeling understood by someone you never met but who's somehow written about you and your life. The concept of feeling really "seen" is something that shows up again and again for me.

You didn’t go into any detail about Harry’s relationship with his adoptive parents after he left at the end of An Invincible Summer, even though his mother tried to support him as much as she could when he had to leave. Do you think they held contact after Harry was forced to leave or if he/they even went back as a part of H & L’s adventures?

I think Harry managed to stay in touch with his mother secretly and to eventually reunite with his sisters.

When I rewrote the story, I changed the middle sister to a brother to show another way that Harry was treated differently. So I imagine Big Jim and the little brother digging their heels in and acting like he never existed. But Harry and Louis eventually had a beautiful and extensive found family.

The end of Hike Up your Skirt (And Show Your World To Me) is pretty much open. How do you think their relationship progressed and do you think they have a chance of having a normal (as in no power imbalance or manipulation) relationship?

Mmm. I actually started writing a second part from Harry's POV where you see that Harry is also playing a game to get Louis to fall for him. I see their relationship becoming a 24/7 Dom/Sub life. I think they're both way too kinky and maybe a little too depraved to have a "normal" relationship.

Are any of your original characters inspired by people you know in your day-to-day life?

No, actually. LOL! Very simple answer. They're all just figments of my imagination.

A lot of other writers in the fandom have difficulties or are just a little uncomfortable with writing smut. That doesn’t seem to be the case for you. Why’s that?

HAHAHAHA! No, I think it’s actually the easiest part for me to write. I’m not sure why. I don’t have a lot of hang ups around sex, so maybe that helps. And I love the idea of character development through intimate scenes.

How did you come up with the idea for your fic rec masterpost here on Tumblr and how did all of that start?

I think it just started because someone asked if I could recommend some fics in a particular category (If I remember correctly, it might have been dystopian fics). And I had too much time on my hands, so I decided to make a header and write little blurbs about why I liked each one I was suggesting.

Somehow that turned into a deluge of people asking for different things and, for whatever reason, I had the time at that moment. So I made rec after rec.

At some point it was annoying that people kept asking for the same things, so I just made an alphabetical masterpost.

Is there a specific trope or genre you’d like to read more of?

Oh, that's a good question. It's so much easier to tell you what I don't like.

Honestly, to me, it's really more about the writing than about the trope or genre. But I do really like a good enemies-to-lovers fic, and if you can write a new twist on a fake relationship, I'm all in.

Do you somehow track the fics you’ve read? And if you do, can you give me a rough number of how many you’ve read?

So, I only bookmark fics I've really loved. Obviously some I love more than others, but I currently have 655 fics bookmarked.

I've been reading in this fandom for 11 years. Some I won't have read all the way through, but counting those, I'm sure I've literally read thousands.

I've gone through periods where I've just got a lot more free time at one point or another. And when I entered the fandom in 2013 there were literally so many terrific fics I didn't know where to start.

And every time you turned around there was another. It was very addicting.

Are you reading anything right now? If not, what was the last thing you’ve read?

I have a hard time reading when I'm actively writing, so nothing really recent.

The last fic I read that I really liked was Danger I Can't Hide by CelticSky. It's actually a WWII fic but set on the airbase where H is a pilot and Louis is a mechanic. It's just so well written and so well researched. Highly recommend.

For the next part of the interview, Gina answered some personal questions about her experiences in the fandom.

Since when are you in the fandom and what made you become a fan?

Since November 2013.

I took my daughter (who was 6 at the time) to see This Is Us. Did a little research to make sure this boy band was appropriate for her and then fell in love with them. We ended up seeing the movie three times, then bought it and watched it at home. She was a Niall girl.

She was my concert buddy for a while. One Direction at the Rose Bowl in 2014 was her first concert.

The weirdest comment you got?

Oh, I get some doozies on Tumblr.

I think one of my favorites was from years ago when I used to do a lot of NSFW fan art. I got an anonymous message from someone claiming to be Harry's lawyer and they were demanding I delete all of my fan art of Harry. HAHAHAHA! Like an attorney would send an anon. Or even ask for something like that. I still laugh when I think about that one.

Harry or Louis?

It's very hard to choose because they're both amazing. I'm a Harry girl from way back. But I obviously love and support Louis, too.

Harry just really inspires me in so many ways. And his music is more my speed.

Your favourite Harry era and your favourite Louis era?

Oh, that's hard. I think Harry's recent era (Harry's House) might be my favorite because he seemed so happy and so self-assured and confident in who he is as a person. He looked fantastic too. Other eras are special to me because of what was going on with the fandom at the time, or because I liked the way he dressed or whatever, but in terms of just enjoying him, I'd have to say this last tour.

Louis is a little more difficult for me because I've had a really hard time with his image over this last tour and his doubling down on babygate. I'm very happy he says he's really happy and proud of his album/tour, but if I had to pick my favorite I feel like he looked the healthiest and most at ease during MITAM promo. Oh, he looked great during his Walls promo, too.

Your favourite movie with H?

My Policeman. It was a bit uneven, but he really blew me away in some of his scenes. He understood that character inside and out.

Your favourite writer(s) in the fandom?

I actually have so many that I like, although many aren’t in our fandom anymore.

It might be easier to link you to a Favorite Authors rec I made a while ago.

What are your absolute favourite fics in the fandom?

I’m going to make it easy on myself again and link you to a Favourite Fics rec.

Is there a fic that is not necessarily your favourite but still always kind of stuck in your head ?

There are fics that aren’t necessarily the most groundbreaking or complex, but something about them makes me keep coming back to re-read. Don't kill me, but... My Favorite Re-Reads.

I wanted to give you a favorite out of that list, but as I scrolled I was like, oh wait, that one! No, that one! So... sorry, you get them all.

What makes you want to stop reading something?

Hm. So many things, honestly.

Writing where people try too hard to be poetic, continuous spelling and grammar mistakes, miscommunication as the only tension, no tension at all, characterizations that make no sense to me, fics that go on and on and on with no attempt at editing, kid fics, etc. I really have very few squicks, but bad writing is hard for me to ignore (I know "bad" is subjective, so I hope no one takes offense at that... just because I don't like it doesn't mean others don't love it).

Your favourite song at the moment?

Chappell Roan is stuck in my head lately. So, I'll say Casual (although Pink Pony Club is a bop).

Your favourite season?

Fall. Absolutely. SO fucking sick of summer.

The most unusual thing that inspired you?

LOL! I'd have to say the Vintage "Sleaze" novel that inspired Hike Up Your Skirt. It was called "Horizontal Secretary".

Who would you most like to read an interview from?

Well, I'm obviously going to say India because I think she's a great writer. But she's also so well-spoken and interesting.

I'd love to read an interview with CelticSky because I loved Danger I Can't Hide so much and I don't know them since they're on Twitter!

Lastly I asked Gina to give every work of hers a colour. Here’s the outcome of that:

Whoever, However -- yellow

Whoever, However is yellow, because when I think about it, I picture the warm, yellow shade of the wood paneling of the room they filmed in.

gathered on wings -- blue

I’m not sure why gathered on wings is blue in my head. Maybe it’s just because that’s the main color of the mood board I made.

An Invincible Summer -- green

An Invincible Summer is green because the rural Georgia setting became one of the characters of the fic. When I think about it, I see the sprawling farm, the rampant kudzu, blueberry fields, lunch under the oak trees… it just feels green to me.

Literally Making Love -- red

Literally Making Love is red because so much of the story is about what it means to be human and even though Harry’s heart isn’t “real” at some point he says to Louis, “Sometimes I feel like you made my heart too small because it doesn’t hold everything I feel for you. I feel it overflowing everywhere.” Or, maybe it’s because it has “Love” in the title. LOL!

Hike Up Your Skirt (And Show Your World To Me) -- purple

I don’t know. The first thought that came to me was purple because I pictured Harry’s character with love bite bruises.

A huge thank you to Gina again. Thank you for being so open and honest while answering my questions. I had the best time talking to you and was so invested in every work of yours.

[rubra-wav]

Why So Blue? Vox x Reader

[ Part 1 - A Like Morning Unlike Others ]

A/N: I have a kind of loose idea of where I'm maybe taking this one, but I am very much open to any suggestions.

People asked to be tagged in what was going to be part 2 to the oneshot. My ideas changed a bit with this tho, and it's being rewritten as a fic from the start - sorry if this isn't what you really had in mind w that request 😭

[ Taglist ] @gigglesandshits @serendipitous-fernweh @valentinosbabycakes @ seriouslyaverage (won't let me @ ???)

[ part 2 ] >>

Cw: SFW, Gn!Reader, slight staticmoth reference

The morning you first showed up was like any other for the Video Star.

As always, Vox awoke at 7:00 am on the dot, staring at the ceiling for a couple of seconds as his system warmed up properly for the day ahead.

After the 'sleep' cleared from his mind, he sat up and then climbed from his bed to quickly change before swiping his phone off his nightstand as he walked to the personal kitchen in his part of the building (he had it installed so he didnt have to see his colleagues before his persona was up to snuff) and began scrolling through his emails.

He opted for those from Carmine rather than Velvette or Valentino.

It was frankly too fucking early to deal with whatever bullshit they were yelling about on seemingly all of his socials in his mind. (a decision he'd come to regret rather soon)

Last night's hangover still clung to him, but he pushed through it. He was rather happy all things considered. Carmine's email confirmed that she was on board with partnering up for personal surveillance systems without much questioning, thankfully.

He was about to get even fucking richer.

He grinned widely at the prospect as he leisurely made his coffee - black, naturally - fantasising about how he'd be able to spy on hell's citizens even more with them literally installing surveillance cameras into their own homes for security purposes.

Those poor, desperate idiots practically exploit themselves!

Vox chuckled at the thought, humming as he walked in the direction of his broadcast room, scrolling to look over the email Carmine sent once again to fully understand all agreements. To try to see what he'd be able to push her into doing potentially.

The hatch to his lair broadcast room opened loudly and closed just as loudly behind him as his footfalls echoed in the silent room against the cold tiles.

Vox didn't look up once as he made his way to his seat.

He didn't need to.

He knew where everything was in here as nobody else was ever in here. And if they were?

Well, those demons wouldn't be 'employed' much longer, we'll say that.

His seat squeaked as he sat on it, sipping his coffee as he swiped through some more notifications.

He glanced at his monitor momentarily as he took a deep sip of coffee that would gross anyone else out, then promptly choked on it, gracelessly spitting some onto his keyboard and lap.

He felt truly chilled to the bone for the first time in a long while.

Wide, red eyes watched in horror as a very drunk version of himself from last night met him. In the video, he was shaking his hips from where he stood on a bar while singing (he assumed) shittily if his memory served right.

The video was muted from where it played on the screen of every monitor in his room, but he expected it.

His frozen present self watched himself in the video as drunk Vox stumbled and then proceeded to topple off-camera to the ground.

His instant assumption was that Valentino or Velvette had posted it online, but that was quickly off the cards when he noticed that not only were both of them watching him while laughing with no phones in their hands, but it was posted from his own fucking Sinstagram account.

It already had over a million likes, and it'd been up for only an hour at this point. His colleagues wrote surprised comments underneath, asking if he meant to post it. Valentino adding that Vox looked cute in it either way.

He could feel his fear and anger rising, loud zaps of electricity emitting from him already as his claws dug into either armrest of his desk chair, leaving long scratch marks on them which exposed the padding within.

Then he read the bottom caption of the looped post of himself and fully lost it.

'For someone who talks so big about being ahead technologically, it was awfully easy to hack old Boxy here.'

Vox lets out a loud, enraged yell, slamming his fist on his desk, promptly causing himself to Bluescreen and knocking out much of Pentagram's electricity in the process despite not being plugged into his set-up.

-

On the other side of the city, you laugh loudly as you watch the press conference where the Tech demon overlord fought to clean up his image.

It began just a few minutes after you were exposed to Vox's rage in the form of your lights shutting off.

It didn't affect your setup, of course. A certain someone you knew had helped you craft it, and it ran on a different server.

While others were still waiting for their shit to get back in order after Vox stopped plastering his rather strained grin on every screen, you were watching the press conference in one window while admiring how quickly his men raced to try and patch up the code you'd gotten through last time in another.

Of course, it hardly would do anything for you the next time around you decided to clown on him.

You shifted into a cross-legged position on the floor, glancing between the mess of old and new monitors surrounding you all interlocking with equally messy and tangled cables.

You passively wondered if anyone had been killed during all this, expecting yes, but not paying much attention to it. You couldn't do anything about what he decided to pull in response to your attacks.

Anything for your entertainment.

You cracked your fingers loudly as you began to prepare for the next bag of shit you'd be leaving on his doorstep.

Snickering with a smile, you watched his hypnosis ability activate, manipulating everyone watching outside of your own eyes.

They would forget this, but you wouldn't. And neither would Vox. You'd make sure all of them remembered you eventually.

Snorts and giggles echoed out in the silence of your small, shitty apartment as you mulled over all the things you had planned for the next few months.

Jesus christ, this would be fun.

Yeah, this reader isn't a good person either. They just wanna fuck around with Vox as much as they can and don't care much who becomes cannon fodder in the process.

I was considering also writing pt. 2 into this as well, but I figured that I would do this as just a taster for this series starting for the first post. Pt. 2 will be soon 🙏

Why So blue Masterlist (not much here yet obv)

Main Masterlist

[zahri-melitor]

I am thinking again about how much 'timelines don't exist, canon isn't real, the comics don't keep track so why should I' annoys me, and it's like:-

Generally this is not true, if you're talking about a particular timeline. Pre-Crisis from the Bronze Age onwards is largely coherent, taken as a whole. Post-Crisis is pretty coherent. New 52's problems largely relate to 'what happened prior to #1' more than outright timeline contradictions in the stories between 2011-2016. Rebirth and Infinite Frontier has become more difficult, given that titles reference each other less frequently, but within a title it remains coherent.

Many of the most bumpy timeline issues are when you transition from one canon to another (particularly with regards to titles that got away with running 'across' the reboot, such as NTT or Batwoman or Batman Inc). That's an artefact of reboots giving some titles special leeway as the retcons happened.

What people are usually complaining about is 'something got retconned' rather than 'the books don't know what order events happened in'. Situations like 'explain Donna Troy's backstory' doesn't have a timeline issue; it has a retcon issue in that she now has multiple mutually exclusive backstories to deal with the fact that NTT was allowed to run across COIE while Diana got rebooted, and so on.

There are in fact situations with timeline issues but usually those are in regards to 'untangle the order events happened in during an Event' not big periods of time. Explaining the order of events in Batman RIP and Final Crisis is something that has timeline issues, in terms of 'when did Bruce disappear from Gotham in respect of Final Crisis' and 'when did Talia arrive with Damian' and so on. However, there's no issues with the relationship of 'did these events happen before or after Batman RIP and Final Crisis'. That in itself is clear. Trying to put DC One Million issues in order is a timeline issue. Whether a story took place before or after DC One Million is mostly a case of looking at the issue number.

And adding all of this up: the reason I tend not to have a lot of respect for 'teeheehee DC doesn't care about canon so why should I' in a fic is that whenever people just decide to ignore things and make three things that happened in three separate decades happen simultaneously, they ALSO don't bother to spend any time looking at how this changed events. You know what? I don't care if you want to make Tim 14 for when Jason returns to Gotham. Go right ahead. But if you're going to do that, can you acknowledge you're writing a canon divergence AU and at least GESTURE to which events that ACTUALLY happened when Tim was 14 just got derailed because Jason is back. (Like Underworld Unleashed. You want even more angst/chaos from Bruce? Have Jason turn back up in Gotham immediately after UU)

[tavolgisvist]

Allen Klein is a businessman. He has had dealings with a guy called Tony Calder who worked as a partner for Andrew Oldham. The three of them managed the affairs of the Rolling Stones. Oldham & Calder left the Stones scene, but Klein stayed. … Tony has something on his mind that is why he is taking me to work in his Morgan. He says: ‘Allen Klein says you are in his way. Allen says you are blocking him from meeting the Beatles and doing business with them.’ I am amazed. I say, ‘I never give Allen Klein a thought from one year to the next. What is the guy talking about, me being in his way?’ … So I tell Tony if Klein thinks I am in his way, and as I’m not in his way, I’d better show the guy I’m not, by moving out of the way anyone else who might be in his way. I tell Tony to tell Klein I am (a) not in his way, and (b) if anyon I tell Tony to tell Klein to call. I go into work at Apple and I see Peter Brown, Brian’s old pal, mine, the Beatles, Apple’s and so on. Peter knows many things. I say, ‘Allen Klein wants to meet the Beatles.’ ‘Does he ever,’ says Peter. I ask: ‘Is there anyone in his way?’ Peter says, ‘Only the Beatles.’ He explains Brian didn’t like Klein and the Beatles had never heard anything about him that attracted them either. … I say there is this guy Klein who badly wants to see them. John says yeah, Klein’s been trying to reach him but he won’t take the call. I do some hype for Klein and say he is a strange cat, hated by some of the people who met him and also by some of the people who have only heard of him. George says, ‘he sounds really nice’, and I say that if they want someone to run their money scene then Klein may be the man. But I also say they had better look at him very hard and ask around Jagger and Donovan and the others he handles. I mean really check Klein out. But see him too. See him face to face. John says OK, I’ll see him and the others rhubarb a bit and that’s the lunch over. I call Les Perrin and tell him tell Klein to call and Klein does and then he flies over really fast, like yesterday. He meets John, they talk all night and boy do they dig each other. John comes into the office and says, ‘Don’t care about the others, don’t give a shit … but I’m having Klein, he can have all of my stuff and get it sorted out.’ John says there is too much fear around, everyone must stop being frightened, everything is going to be fantastic, like Klein is going to be the genie of the lamp. Paul, George and Ringo get to meet Klein and he begins to act as if he is half-hired but maybe not. He says he will save Northern Songs from the wicked Lew Grade. He says he will buy NEMS Enterprises. He says he will take EMI to the cleaners. In the end he doesn’t save Northern Songs and he doesn’t buy NEMS Enterprises, but takes EMI and Capitol to the cleaners and to hell and back… …

It is 1970. Paul still doesn’t like Klein but John digs him more than ever and George digs him more than that and Ringo doesn’t mind him. Paul? He is so uptight about Klein he only leaves the Beatles, that’s all. Klein and me meet the press and TV and all that; together we sit on a sofa and talk about Paul. Mr Klein, why doesn’t Paul like you? Mr Taylor, why doesn’t Paul like Mr Klein? I don’t know, don’t ask me, man, don’t ask me. Paul releases his album and Klein releases the Beatles’ album and they both make a million and Klein has had Phil Spector remix Paul’s song ‘The Long and Winding Road’, adding a women’s choir and some violins etc. Paul thinks this is the shittiest thing anyone has ever done to him and that is saying something, but Klein laughs up his silk sleeve and releases ‘Long and Winding Road’ as a single anyway and still with Phil’s new arrangement. Up there in Scotland, Paul McCartney, one of the four owners of Apple, the company formed to give total freedom, artistic control, to struggling performers and writers, wonders what went wrong, when even he can’t control his own work. I am wondering too. Everyone is wondering. But Klein isn’t wondering. He knows, he knows. …

Money is pouring into Apple so I guess you could say that Allen Klein straightened Apple out as the Beatles wanted it. The only thing is … where is Apple and where are the Beatles? If you find out, please let me know, I haven’t seen them in a long time. The way I see it, Klein is really bringing a whole lot of people down, including me sometimes and I have a deal which keeps me at home writing stuff like this so what am I whining about? Well, being as how I brought Klein to Apple, by making sure the way was clear, I owe someone, somewhere something, that’s for sure. What is it and what have I done? Our Apple is all chewed up. It is the most ungroovy place I ever knew and I have to say it, we have all let it happen, all of us, but me, I told Tony Calder to tell Klein to call and if I am going to make any more mistakes about Allen Klein, then let it be writing this, let it be.

(Derek Taylor, As Time Goes By, 1973)

(Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI)

[qqueenofhades]

JSYK the OP of the Crab Day post is a self-identified conservative Christian. Can't speak to anything she may have done or said, but I do know that Crab Day wouldn't actually fix Tumblr - the site is running a 30mil *deficit,* which is different from debt. All Crab Day would do would be telling staff that their current policies get users to send them more money, which doesn't actually change anything. Corporations change only when their business strategy is losing the shareholders money.

Gotta be honest, my friend, I'm... not sure what you're trying to do here? Warn me that the original post was made by a Problematic Person (tm) and therefore that must mean it's all wrong, or.... what?

We know that Tumblr badly needs money, because they have told us that and openly admitted that the unpopular new changes were spurred by a need for increasing revenue. I logged on just now on desktop and got a suggestion that I could purchase an ad-free browsing subscription to help support the hellsite (which is the word they used, because they have very much embraced the joke). I have in fact already bought an ad-free subscription, both because I like the product Tumblr provides and want to keep using it in its current form, and because it makes my mobile experience immeasurably nicer. I am well aware that especially in this era of social media sites dropping like flies, the continued existence of a platform that is 30-million-dollars underwater (however you want to split hairs about exactly how) is not a guarantee. And we all complain about Tumblr, but we have all been here a long time (me, uh, over 10 years), we have a solid community, there's no other alternative that's really ever come up or gotten the same kind of uptake, and if it went under, we would be uh, screwed.

Tumblr is kind of a mess, it's the antithesis of every social media site, and it doesn't (for now) have the crap that makes The Artist Formerly Known As Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram so utterly unusable, or if it does, you can (mostly) turn it off. That's why we all like it and why, even if we are resolutely anti-capitalist gremlins who resist being marketed to with every fiber of our being, it doesn't change the fact that servers, staff, and all the rest cost real human-people money which the site, by their own frank admission, is struggling to raise. Even if staff does often make crappy updates, they generally at least TRY to listen to us and include a feature to make it optional or roll it back, unlike certain unnamed idiot billionaires. Their mockery of other social media sites can sometimes be a little much, but for now, Tumblr is pretty much the last place on the internet that does what it does, and I like it that way. If it went under and took my blog of 10+ years and all my friends with it, I would be incredibly sad.

That being the case, and basic financial realities being what they are, encouraging people to toss a few bucks at a TOTALLY OPTIONAL and fun gimmick that increases functionality for a product we like is actually not a bad thing. TumblrMart has crabs, checkmarks, Ea-Nasir merchandise (seriously), ad-free browsing, etc., and if our choice is voluntarily supporting the site through fun (and again, OPTIONAL) purchases versus having us all be involuntarily subject to some horrible data-scraping mechanism or forced off altogether because they couldn't keep the lights on, that is fine with me. Nobody is making anybody do or buy anything. But if you like the product Tumblr provides and want a fun material way to show your appreciation, then I don't think it's some Great Transgression to participate in that.