#it's coming out in November and I WILL pick it up off the new books shelf to flip to the last page

[clonerightsagenda]

It started with that dead guy next door book but there has been a huge boom in 'book titles that make me think the love interest will be some type of Creature but it's just a boring dude who owns a small business or whatever. but there's also a Creature. peripherally.' *Chuck Tingle voice* Not pounded in the ass by the undead entity haunting my home because a) they are incorporeal and b) they are not the love interest probably because they're incorporeal and everyone wants their romance novels to be [spicy/insert whatever juvenile term we're using this week instead of just saying it has sex in it]. False advertising and cowardice.

[my-castles-crumbling]

ideal - November 17 - jegulus - @stag-microfic - word count: 577

"Well...it's not ideal," Sirius said, pinching his lips together and staring at the small hotel room.

Regulus let out a snort.

'Not ideal' was an understatement. The room had two queen-sized beds, one bathroom, and zero sense of privacy. This was what he got for letting Sirius book the room.

James, however, seemed to be in good spirits. "It's just for one night," he said bracingly, smiling at all of them. "We'll continue on in the morning, no harm done!"

"Right," Remus nodded, though he looked far less optimistic. "So...how will we do this?"

"I'm with Moony," Sirius said immediately, frowning at the suggestion that anything else would ever happen.

But that meant that Regulus and James...Regulus refused to make eye contact with anyone.

"Is...everyone okay with that?" Remus asked, always the pragmatic one.

"Sure!" James chirped.

Regulus only grunted.

He was the last in the bathroom, and he spent the entire time trying to give himself a pep talk. It was one night. He could keep himself together for one night. He'd been doing fine not giving his feelings away for the entire road trip thus far, it didn't matter that they would be sharing a bed. He would be fine. He could do this.

So he put on his pajamas and went back into the room, finding everyone already in bed and the lights off. Slipping under the covers, he sighed with relief to see that James's back was turned, and be busied himself with scrolling through his phone, trying to calm his racing thoughts. It worked decently well.

Until James rolled over, his hand accidentally coming into contact with the single sliver of bare skin at Regulus's waist. Completely unprepared for the contact, he let out a whimper of surprise.

He felt James freeze. Heard his breath pick up behind him. He squeezed his eyes shut in mortification and begged himself to calm the fuck down and regulate his own damn breathing because how embarrassing could he be?

Until James murmured, "Reg?" And a hand purposely skated over his hip, causing goosebumps to burst over his flesh.

"Fuck," he whispered, biting over his lip to keep from groaning loudly. "James." And he new he sounded wrecked, he knew there was no way he could pretend he wasn't affected by the hand on his hip and the body behind him exuding heat, but he hoped James would just leave it.

Until an arm moved to completely curl around his waist, James's perfect chest pressing forward into his back as he felt himself pulled backward into the heat of his embrace.

"Please tell me you're as glad this happened as I am," James whispered into his ear, his breath hot and his hand tracing lines over Regulus's bare stomach.

He couldn't resist. Turning around in the arms he'd been imagining around him for years, he gazed into hazel eyes and murmured, "It depends. Do you...want it to happen again?" His heart felt like it would burst from his chest as he asked, the anxiety making him almost lightheaded. They couldn't go back from this, he realized.

But James only smiled. "I want this to happen every night, Reg."

Their first kiss was sweet. The chaste pressing of lips together before they pulled apart, grinning happily. It was all that could happen, given the circumstances. But they fell asleep in each other's arms, knowing more would happen very soon. They had all the time in the world.

[pitchsidestories]

the grinch II Laura Freigang x Reader

masterlist | word count: 1661

summary: Laura's in a festive mood already, reader isn’t, but maybe a visit at the Christmas market in Frankfurt can change that.

author's note: dear readers, we hope you'll like the black cat x golden retriever dynamic in this oneshot.💕

Your Friday nights were sacred to you.

While other people went out, you waited all week to stay inside and cozy up on your couch. After long hours at work, it was the perfect way to relax.

You let yourself fall onto the sofa, pulling your feet in under yourself and grabbing the remote.

It was just you, the movie you were about to pick out and… your girlfriend hanging up Christmas lights right above the TV.

You silently glared at her back but she continued adjusting the decorations while singing to herself: “All I want for Christmas is youuuuu, baby!”

She turned towards you, pretending to hold microphone in one hand and pointing at you with the other.

You blinked at her, forcing yourself to not grab the nearest pillow and throw it at her: “What is wrong with you? It’s way too early for that!”

It was still November and you were pretty grateful for that. You weren’t the biggest fan of Christmas. In contrast to your girlfriend who shook her head with a patient smile: “Nope. The first Christmas markets are open in Frankfurt and you and me will go there tonight with my team.“

The urge to smack a pillow in her face grew with every word but you stayed strong.

“No.“, you said simply but determined.

Laura sat next to you on the sofa, blinking at you with innocent eyes: “Come on, Liebling. You work so hard, you deserve to enjoy yourself from time to time too.“

“I wanted to enjoy myself by staying in and watching Netflix.“, you groaned.

“Please join us.“ She gave you her best puppy eyes and pulled her lips into a little pout.

It was cute but you really didn’t want to go.

You sighed: “Why? I don’t even like Christmas.“

“Liebling, the girls would love to see you again. And I love to brag about my amazing, talented girl.“, Laura grinned, coming closer and closer until her nose touched your neck. She carefully placed a kiss to your jaw.

You rolled your eyes and pushed her off: “You can’t sweet-talk me into going.“

Finally, she gave in and pushed herself off the sofa: “Okay, fine. I’ll get ready then.“

“Wait… you’re going alone?”, you asked.

“I won’t force you to come with me.“, Laura shrugged before heading to the bedroom.

You knew exactly what that meant. You could either let her go alone or you had to join her. So essentially she did force you.

“God, I hate you.“, you groaned as you finally turned off the TV and got up.

“No, you love me.“, Laura replied through the closed door.

“You’re lucky I do.“, you grumbled while you slipped into your warmest clothes.

When Laura returned in her puffer jacket and saw you pull on your boots, she asked excitedly: “Does that mean you’ll join us?”

“Do I have a choice?”, you sighed.

“I mean you do but…“, the rest of her reply was muted by the thick scarf she wrapped around herself in that moment.

You shrugged into your winter coat and reluctantly ushered her out of your shared apartment: “Don’t. Just go already, I don’t have all night.“

The scent of roasted almonds, cinnamon and gingerbread was the first thing you both noticed once you entered the Christmas market. The old townhouses including the town hall were looking like pieces of a winter children’s book and yet the Frankfurt skyline was shining in the background.

The mix of old and new was always there and something your girlfriend found so exciting she tried to capture it with her camera. For a second you tried to see the scenery through her blue eyes which sparkled like the fairy lights surrounding her.

With a big smile on her face, she waved at her teammates. “Hi girls!”

“Hey, you two.”, Sara grinned.

“You already got mulled wine without us?!”, Laura exclaimed.

“Don’t worry, we got some for you two.”, Barbara reassured the striker.

“Thanks, Baba.”, you replied, thankful for the hot drink warming your cold hands.

“You’re welcome.”, the Austrian replied.

“The Misses Grinch here didn’t want to leave the house at first, can you believe that?”, your girlfriend asked teasingly.

“And miss out on the Christmas market?”, Sophia shook her head in disbelief.

Grumpily you thought to yourself, wait until you all have 9 to 5 jobs.

“Yes, she said it’s too early to be in the mood for Christmas.”, Laura went on smirking.

“It’s.”, you protested.

“No, it’s never too early for that.”, Sara disagreed lifting her dog Peanut who was wearing a sweater with Christmas trees printed on it.

“Of course it’s.”, you grumbled. It was November, no one in the office you worked was in the festive mood because there was still too much work at the end of the year to do.

“Lau, you were right, your girlfriend is the grinch.”, Nicole observed amusedly.

“I told you.”, Laura answered.

“More Glühwein?”, Barbara offered.

“Please.”, you muttered, glad for the alcohol as well as for the warm company which you wouldn’t admit it to your girlfriend. The Austrian and you were the one getting the drinks for everyone, so you had missed a bit of the conversation. You couldn’t believe your ears what you heard next.

“Oh, my girl invests into women’s sport now by the way.”, Laura told her teammates in a proud tone.

“That’s great!”, Sara commented enthusiastically.

All the eyes of the football players were now on you, their attention made you blush even harder.

“Yeah, I mean it’s something different to my usual investments.”, you responded nervously.

“You’re making the right decision. Women’s sport is booming everywhere.”, Barbara promised.

“I still need her help for my side projects though.”, Laura winked at you before leaning into you. Even though they took a lot of her and your time, first the photo book and then her own clothing line. She was the creative head, and you were the one turning her ideas into actual products which could be sold and profitable.

“Yes, I’ll be there for that. But can we maybe stop talking about work?”, you requested.

“Of course. I’m just so proud of you.”, your girlfriend beamed at you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Oh.”

“Cuties.”, Elisa hummed.

Was this the true spirit of Christmas or did the mulled wine finally kicked in?

Suddenly acutely aware of your girlfriends’ teammates watching, you cleared your throat and announced: “I’ll come to your game on Sunday by the way.“

“You will?”, Laura grinned excitedly.

“Yes, babe.“, you confirmed with a single nod.

“That’s amazing!”

Her lips were suddenly on yours, kissing longingly. You could taste sting of alcohol from the mulled wine on her breath.

You pulled away with heated cheeks: “I promised you that I would come to your next game.“

“What about another hat-trick, Laura? To celebrate her making an appearance.“, Sara joked, elbowing her teammate in the side.

“We’ll see. I will try my best.“, Laura winked.

You laughed lightly: “No pressure.“

“I’ll score at least one for you.“, she promised happily.

You stifled a laugh. Apparently the mulled wine had already gotten to her. “That’s very sweet of you.“

“While we’re at sweet… Do you want some chocolate covered strawberries?“, Laura smoothly changed the topic.

Only the thought of them, almost made you drool. You might not like Christmas markets but you had a weakness for the variety of chocolate fruits they sell there.

“I do. You know I love them.“

Laura smiled mischievously: “I do know what.“

“We should get some and then we need to go home before you are fully drunk.“, you joked, pointing at the mug she was holding.

Laura looked at you with raised eyebrows: “I’m not drunk, you’re drunk.“

“Uhu sure, love.“, you rolled your eyes, even though you couldn’t deny that you felt the alcohol.

“Just admit that you both had too much and go!”, Sara interrupted jokingly.

“Incredibly rude, Sara!”, Laura protested but her teammate just retorted with a casual shrug.

“It’s the truth.“

“Let’s just get the strawberries and leave, Lau. Bye, girls.“ You took Lauras hand and dragged her along as you waved goodbye to the rest of her team.

“Bye, see you on Sunday!”, Barbara called after you.

With your chocolate strawberries and some almonds for Laura, you went back home. With a sigh of relief, you kicked off your shoes and hung up your jacket.

“And? Wasn’t that bad after all, right Liebling?”

“It was… okay.“, you shrugged.

“Only okay?!”, Laura echoed, pretending to be offended.

You let yourself fall onto your spot on the sofa that you only reluctantly left earlier that evening.

“Well, it wasn’t as bad without you here.“, you admitted slowly.

A satisfied smile appeared on your girlfriends face: “I take that as a compliment.“

“You can.“

Sitting down next to you, she quickly kissed your cheek: “Thanks for coming with me. I had a lot of fun.“

“I could tell. You loved the Christmas market.“, you grinned back at her.

“Yes but don’t worry, I’ll always love you more.“, she winked.

You silently shook your head about her until Laura suddenly bursted into another Christmas song: “I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need…“

Groaning, you let your head fall back: “Lau, I love you and I enjoyed the Christmas market tonight but it’s still way too early!”

Laura blinked at you innocently: “Says who?”

“Me!”

“Then stop me from singing.“, she teased.

“Come here.“ Without hesitation, you pulled her in for a passionate kiss that was enough to take Lauras breath away.

Maybe you didn’t like Christmas as much as Laura, but you loved the way her eyes lit up at the sight of the Christmas lights and how her nose and cheeks turned pink from the cold. Maybe she was worth visiting overcrowded Christmas markets and listening to stupid Christmas songs in November.

if you enjoyed this story reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated !

Christmas/Winter Oneshots

[ellaa-writes]

konig and the reader are roommates; best friends with a slight attraction to each other. reader decides to go out clubbing with some girlfriends, showing off her tight dress to konig before leaving— which ultimately arouses him hardly ;))

konig let’s his dick get the best of him and goes through the readers pantie drawer (#pantiekink) and goes back to his room, jerking himself off to the reader’s panties.. and boom reader comes back early and catches him.

(show your post about writers block, though you could execute this idea perfectly)

So sorry this took so long to write. This ask was sent back in November. I got a little carried away while writing this. Love this prompt so much! Thank you for sending it in and hope you enjoy :) (not proofread) PART 2

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After a long week of writing essays, listening while your professors drone on and on and spending every waking second studying or working your part time job. Simply to say you were beat and exhausted. Wanting nothing more than to stay in, catch up on some z's and possible a few episodes of your new favourite show.

But atlas you received a last minute text from your BFF.

I'm picking you up at 8, better look cute.

Throwing yourself back on your bed, letting out a loud huff. Knowing damn well you won't be able to say no to her. A soft knock against the frame of the door brought your attention back to reality.

He was tall, brooding and all to yummy, as your friends say. Your roommate König stood in the doorway, taking up all the space. His head reaching right to the top of the frame.

"Hey, didn't here you come in." you said sitting up. You kicked your shoes off and began typing back your response.

"Got plans?" he inquired. Leaning into the frame, crossing his over his chest. Making every muscle tighten and bulge just how you like it.

"Hmm, Kate's dragging me to some bar most likely." you replied to him. "I better get ready now, knowing her she'll show up early." it wasn't a surprise that your friend group loved to show up at your place. They all loved to sit around and ogle your roommate.

After answering an ad in the university student paper, you found yourself being shown around a decently sized 2 bedroom apartment only a block away from campus. It was too good to be true and too good to pass up. The landlord explaining that the first room was already rented out. You didn't mind sharing with a male, he seemed more than tidy. And you needed away from the awful university dorm rooms.

First meeting König, that was one for the books. After hauling your belongings up the 3 flights of stairs. Of course the elevator would break the day your were moving in. Struggling to get the key in the door, only to be greeted by a 6'7 and 270 lbs man standing bare cheated in the kitchen. You damn nearly fell over. Needing a moment to catch your breath.

Kate went on and on for weeks about him. Telling you if you didn't make a move she will. You had to remind her she had a long term boyfriend and you were seeing someone at the time, which soon fizzled out.

"I don't understand why you never say no to her." he tried to rationalize. You pushed passed him on your way to the shared bathroom.

"It's better today yes than listen to her complain." you told him back. Shutting the door before he could say anymore.

You took a quick shower, making sure to shave every nook and cranny. Layering yourself in body butter and making sure to spritz extra perfume. You choose to leave your hair straight, and simple makeup.

Tapping your foot against the aged wood floor, having a hard time decided between a short tight black dress or to go more casual in shorts and a cute top.

"Go with the dress." König voice reached you from your door. Startling you out of your thought, causing you to drop the dress onto the floor. König walked right in, bending down to the floor and retrieving the skimpy black dress. Still on his knees he held it up for you to grab, his head was so close to your core which was now pulsing with desire. You cheeks were flushed as you snatched it out of his grasp.

"Thanks.." you said hesitantly, turning away from him. He left you in silence, closing the door on his way out. You pulled out matching pair of lace lingerie, the ones you buried deep in your dresser. A gift from Kate, you've never worn them so todays that day you do.

You took a deep breath before stepping out into the shared common area, König's attention was on the football (American soccer) game. The click of your heels drawing his attention away. You stood their, twirling your fingers around. Shrinking under his lustful gaze. König cleared his throat, adjusting himself in his pants.

"How do I look?" you asked bashfully, the heat of your blush rising up from chest and across your face. "You look...." he was lost for words, the way the dress hugged every curve. "You look beautiful." he stood from his seat, the fabric over his crotch pulling tight against his throbbing cock. He knew he shouldn't be having these thoughts about you.

But he couldn't help himself. From the moment he set eyes on you, he was entranced.

"Give me a little spin." he commanded. Taking two long strides, taking your hand into his and giving you a little twirl. The giggle that came out of your mouth went straight to his cock.

Bzzz BZZZZZZ

The apartment buzzer rang through the space, pulling yourself away you rushed to the com system. "I'll be right down." you yelled through it. Hearing a mixture of garble coming from the other end.

"I'll probably be home late, if not I might crash at Kate's. I'll try not to wake you." the words rushed out of you as you ran around grabbing the last minute items before shuffling out the door.

König didn't get a goodbye in, or a have fun. The pit of jealously boiling up in his stomach stopped him. He watched from the livingroom as you bundled into Kate's car, watching the tail lights disappear down the street. He turned his attention back to his football game. But he couldn't focus, the ache of his cock kept plaguing his thoughts.

Usually he reserved himself to either his or the shower. But he couldn't help himself, pulling out his throbbing cock. It was already hard as a rock, the tip angry and leaking just a bit. The first few strokes had him holding his breath. He needed more, abandoning his spot on the couch, dick exposed to the air. He found himself in your room. It was smaller than his, everything was messily thrown around. He made his way right to your panties drawer, digging in the back to find the black lace panties you hid.

He came back empty handed, the thought of you wearing them under the dress had his cock leaking down the front of his pants, making a mess. He settled on a satin pair, purple in color with a small rose in the front.

Seating himself back on the couch, panties wrapped tight around his member. Stroking himself with you panties, using his knuckles to muffle out his wonton moans. He was too focused on the duty at hand. He didn't hear the door unlocking and the soft click of your heals.

You walked down the hall towards the shared living area, seeing König still on the couch. Pulling the straps of your heels off you let the loudly clank to the floor. You were a little iratated but also thankful that the night didn't go as planned.

König's head shot around, eyes wide in horror to seeing you standing behind him. If you didn't know better, it was like you caught him in the middle of something. The closer you got, you understood why.

Konig had your favourite pair of panties in his fist. His leaking tip poking out the top, as fast as it happened he through a pillow over his lap to block your view.

Stumbling backwards you rushed out some apologies. Babbling on about giving him some space.

König didn't want space at all, he wanted you. His hungry eyes watching has the hem of your dress rose up your thighs, just about exposing you ass. He stood quickly, following you into your room.

"I'm so sorry." you kept repeating. The heat of the embrassment flushed on your face. König stood there, cock out as he tried to get you to look at him.

"OMG!" you screamed, quickly averting your eyes. "Doll look at me." he tried to get you to face him but you couldn't. "Can you please put it away at least." he found your question amusing. "Why? Does it scare you?" he asked back. You scoffed at him, but deep down it did just a little.

Yes you've seen a handful of cocks before but none of them compared to König's.

"No." you said quietly.

"Why don't you touch it a bit, it won't bite." he took a small step towards you. Your stained panties still in his hand.

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LMFAO ok he got a little pervy at the end. I kinda want to make a part two now.

[esotericpluto]

what will the rest of 2024 bring you

from left to right; intuitively choose the pile you feel more connected to. To make it easier, you can take a deep breathe, close your eyes and ask for guidance to your deities or guides. These are all general messages, so just take what resonates and leave what doesn't. This reading is timeless. If it resonates, feedback is always appreciated and motivates to keep doing pick a card readings. You can donate here.

pile 1

for who chose this pile, I see some solitude, but not in the way that you will feel lonely. You will overjoy yourself in this alone time, you will use it to improve yourself, to work on your desired skills, to work on your projects. Where there is this positive self-isolation, there is also a will to thrive and succeed. A moment to keep things to yourself only until after you succeed and complete your plans.

This will ultimately protect you and I see finances increasing for you soon, to the point some of you will be achieving a new milestone with this money, maybe buying a house or a new car. For some of you it could even be starting to plan the trip of your dreams.

I feel like some of you might have a friend you will have to be very careful about. I would recommend you to cut them off or stop talking to them around in September. This person I feel like won't be truly happy about your achievements and will be secretly jealous and envious, to the point it could translate into sending the evil eye to you. Please be careful and protect yourself.

I also feel like you might try some new foods you will truly enjoy and I also think you will be able to go to some restaurants you always had on your go-to list. I feel this happening in November/December.

I am not seeing much regarding love, so I feel like the situation might not change for most of you. If it does change for somenof you, it will be a positive change, like meeting someone new but that I feel like you will be unsure about them due to fears of getting hurt.

I also see someone with books, so I definitely recommend you to start reading or at least read more than you currently do. I also see you might take some free online courses and you are being highly advised and guided to do so, it will benefit you a lot! If you plan on going back to studying in university or similar, then it seems like it is a very good path for you to take this year!

pile 2

I feel some sadness and heaviness in this pile, which seems to come from the loss of someone or something, but mostly someone. It could be something that has happened or still will this year. I see this being something that lingers in you for quite a bit, but you will find ways to deal with it and pick yourself up, which will eventually lead to your healing. Remember to be kind and compassionate with yourself.

In this time, i see you focusing on self-care (or this might be the recommendation of your guides), I recommend taking breaks for yourself, giving yourself love, relaxing, pampering yourself, even attending therapy just to have a healthy place to vent out at (I know some people might be scared of therapists, but I feel like 99.5% of you will definitely end up with a really good therapist, your intuition will definitely help you in this case).

I do also see your intuition being extremely heightened for the rest of this year and I see you really understand the extension it goes to, unlike you have seen it before. It will also help you understand yourself and even certain situations better. This will definitely help you with self-love and self-confidence a lot and will help you coming out of your shell.

I do see most of the year being kept to yourself mostly, which will be the best for you to focus on yourself. I also see you picking up on some new hobbies and I feel like for some you, maybe in 2025, these hobbies could become something more like a side business or even main business.

You will gain more trust in yourself and I see you also taking care of your inner child. I feel like with your inner child the work won't be 100% complete this year, but you will have a 90% proggress and feel better than you have.

The message here seems clear, most of our lives we spend in hurry but this remaining half of year is for you to rest, to stop, to listen and to be in the present, with yourself as company. This seems what is needed for you to enjoy your own company truly, to no longer be scared of being alone.

pile 3

If you've had family quarrels recently, I feel like you will be able to distance yourself from that sooner or later this year. This to some of you may signify a newfounded independence from your family and being able to truly make it on your own.

If you are wondering on whether you should take a new job offer/position or start a business, it is definitely a yes. I do see this business flourishing this year. Same for those who have already started their own business, the second half of this year promises success and abundance. You might even be able to start affording a lot of things you previously could not. It will feel like a true recompensation after years of endurance and suffering for various reasons. It feels like those days are over, except for the occasional annoyance/bad days.

I do see some dates for those who are still single. You might be on dating apps and I see you will be going on a few casual dates. With some of them, there might be some kisses exchanges, but I don't see it becoming more than that (unless you want of course), until the very ending of this year, in which I feel like you will fall in love.

For people who are in a serious relationship, this is good news. I see some hardships, especially if financial, being over for good. You will be able to start a new chapter.

If one of you gets an invitation to gamble, I highly advise to decline it at all costs, as it won't have a good outcome. If your partner has some sort of gambling addiction, then I think you will have enough and leave them this year, because you won't settle for that financial ruin and you should not. So in this case, you will also have your financial harships done for and start a new, happier chapter.

Some of you, especially already married couples or couples who have been living together for a longer time, might actually start a family this year in an unplanned or half-planned way. I feel like it will be a slightly scary experience, but if you decide to move forward with it, I feel like you will handle things swiftly and be unexpectedly happy.

Make sure to eat healthy and take care if yourself. I see some of you starting to going to the gym or pilates classes and actually putting your mind to having a slightly healthier lifestyle.

[bbjobo]

Hello hi it’s me, your resident entertainment PR enthusiast. I simply need to talk about the sequel announcement. This is all speculation, but I work in entertainment-adjacent communications and once convinced a household name celebrity to stay at my event to do select press interviews when his wife was going to go into labor at literally any minute, so I like to think I've got a pretty good sense of all of this.

So buckle in, because I'm about how actually fantastic this rollout was, because I’d wager they’ve been planning this since the premiere. 

RWRB came out truly smack-dab in the middle of the actors' strike. We all know just how much press we must have missed out on, because the strike started before promo would have kicked off in earnest. And when it was finally over in November, the actors are potentially out of contract for promotion, and that’s not even taking into consideration that the holidays are coming up and the six weeks from American Thanksgiving to New Year’s is truly a black hole of press. So this little movie has to rely almost entirely on fan reaction and word of mouth to hit because they’re so limited in what they can do for promo. And it IS a hit! Records are broken! Comments for an extended version (which, ok Matthew we get it, does not exist) and a sequel start almost immediately.

The marketing team makes the most of what they’ve got: they’re keeping up the official character accounts, they’re dropping deleted scenes and BTS. We get cornettos! The fireside scene! Bloopers! Notably absent? Brownstone Thanksgiving. We’ve seen BTS photos of it, we know it exists. Thanksgiving 2023 would have been a great time to drop it, but they don’t. This is the approximate point at which my own personal sequel speculation began. After the strike ends, the posting pace slows considerably but it’s still consistent. It’s just enough to keep it in your mind but not enough to be like “why are you still posting this much about it?” And this continues into 2024.

On the contracting side, conversations were likely actively happening at this point. I wouldn’t be surprised if negotiations picked up literally as soon as the strike ended. The producers would have had that time to get Matthew and Casey back on board and be fully prepped and ready to move on to contracting actors the minute they could. It’d be a shot in the dark to try to guess when these were finalized, but at some point between November 9 and May 9, yeah, they’re in.

But whew, Nicholas is booked and BUSY. Mary & George drops internationally March 5, The Idea of You closes SXSW on March 17, two weeks later M&G starts airing in the US and Canada, and a month after that, TIOY is available for streaming (and limited theatrical release, which is another whole post), and in between all those premieres, he’s everywhere. He’s criss-crossing the country (and tbh the Atlantic Ocean) for all of these appearances, truly going non-stop. The pacing of the premieres makes it nearly impossible to squeeze in another project announcement, and if they had, it would have been a bigger part of every interview he did after, which is something his own team would be working to balance. Plus between TIOY and RWRB, Prime would have been pitching stories against themselves. Better to let him finish out his other promotional appearances and then switch over.

At the same time, we’ve got awards and red carpet season starting. At nearly every red carpet appearance not for their own projects, both Taylor and Nick are asked about a sequel. If an interviewer is given enough time, they ask about a sequel. Sure, fans comment about a sequel on every vaguely rwrb social post from an official account, but the press asking about a sequel felt like a lot to me. Everyone always gave the same vague answer, that they’d be up for it if the story is right, that they don’t know but would be happy to. (Except one time, Nick does slip up and give an answer that feels a little more definitive here where he says “conversations are being had” all the way back in late February/early March). Press are asking the question so consistently that it felt like if it wasn’t happening, PR teams would have put the sequel on the do not ask list.

Then Prime starts actually ramping up on a FYC campaign for the movie. I'm gonna be honest, I was so surprised. It's a rom com, the odds of a rom com getting any sort of awards recognition is so slim, but I thought, "ok, sure, use FYC as a way to get the promo boost they need for an announcement of whatever's coming next." And then I looked up and Variety has picked it as the winner in the best television movie category, which is blowing my mind. The other categories they're submitting in are stacked and I think a nomination beyond television movie will be a long shot, but again, it's big for it to even be considered. And if they're being talked about, that means Prime's gotta put out a great showing for their FYC campaign.

Which brings us to this week. We start off on Monday with Nick at the Met Gala referring to Uma as his mother-in-law. Incredible. Love it. Wednesday and Thursday are a one-two punch of a FYC event and fan event, and the gang’s all here. At the FYC, we get the industry side of things: new portraits and interviews with Deadline, process talk, etc. Because this little rom com is actually doing pretty well and beating the odds? Knowing what we know now, the PR teams spent this week pre-briefing the press on the sequel announcement. Notable (at least to my knowledge) the sequel question doesn't get asked at the FYC event. Because the press already knows it's coming.

Now, on to yesterday. They do a fan screening and Q&A, and they literally roll out the red carpet. Nine months after the premiere and exactly six months after the strike ended, they get the gang back together with fans of the movie, who they relied on so heavily during the strike to help make the movie a success. The tagline on the screen’s giant promo image has been updated to specifically thank fans for “making history with us.” The moderator for the Q&A is the same person who interviewed Taylor and Nick at the beginning of FYC campaign season, their first joint interview since GQ (right? pretty sure. it's all a blur tbh). And at the end of the Q&A, minutes before 12 AM ET, when the embargo on the press release would have lifted, they make the announcement not to press, but to the fans. The fans who loved the book, who watched it over and over, who spread the word about the movie to help make it one of Prime’s top three rom coms OF ALL TIME.

It’s just… an absolute masterclass in how to execute a major announcement that embraces the fans in a time where fandom and interaction between creators and fans can be an absolute minefield. Prime saw the opportunity to lean into the fannishness of it all and they took it and it was a slam dunk.

So where do we go from here? IDK but here’s some unconnected thoughts in list form like Alex would want.

The book’s 5th anniversary is next Wednesday, the 14th.

Casey’s been posting about working on [redacted] for months at this point, which is almost certainly the screenplay

Nick mentioned needing to be back in the UK for filming soon

They would probably like to release this in US election off-cycle years, so that means 2025 or 2027 (and 2027 is too far away). 2026 would be less bad since it’s a midterm election, but still.

Filming could reasonably start sooner rather than later, and even without an unfinished script

I guess we’re back on content watch for blond hair and BTS pictures

[starlightkyeom]

as wild and untamable as the sea | l.c (teaser)

pairing: greek god!chan x reincarnated sea nymph!f!reader genre: angst, smut | (very minor) reincarnation, fantasy, greek gods!au rating: explicit, minors DNI (for full fic, nothing in this teaser) word count: 850 for the teaser (TBD on full fic, prob 10k+) warnings: none for the teaser (full fic: explicit smut, past unhealthy relationships, plays with greek mythology, etc) post date: november 16th (hopefully)

summary: Chan remembers everything. Every little thing that's happened to him since his days as one of the twelve olympians. Poseidon to be exact. Even though he tries not to think about it now that he's living in modern times running a sad little aquarium, some memories are more vivid than others. Then, you stumble into his life and he can't explain the draw. You can't seem to figure out how this man is keeping an aquarium like this running when it seems like it's not that busy. Something about him really seems to put you off, despite the fact that he seems drawn to you. None of it makes any sense...until you start to remember.

a/n: this is for the 13 Gods of Olympus collab that @beomcoups & @wooahaeproductions have been tirelessly working on. thank you so much for hosting this! it's been fun (even if it's a challenge) to get lost in an entirely different world.

if you want to be tagged when i post, leave a comment or join my taglist here

Another day, another dollar. 

Wasn’t that what the humans said about another day spent working at some mindless job? Despite all the years he’s spent blending into their world, Chan still doesn’t really understand the humans. Doesn’t really understand why they put up with so many things they seemingly hate. Doesn’t really understand why they waste their short lives on something that makes them miserable. But, in fairness to the humans, Chan has also never had to worry about the trivial things that come along with working like money, possessions, or a home. When you’re one of the original gods of Olympus and life is seemingly infinite, money isn’t really an issue. 

That’s who Chan was in another lifetime: Poseidon. The God of the Sea, among other things. At least, until Olympus fell. A painful thought that he usually tries to push from his mind.

In the early days after Olympus fell, Chan still went through life acknowledging who he was. He leveraged his powers for favors or for payment. He used his control of the water and everything in it to get him what he needed. But, the years went by and the Olympians became the stuff of myth. Of stories. The kind of characters that you read about in books. Only the most eccentric members of society continue to worship the Olympians as if they’re real. Which they are, Chan reminds himself. Or, they were. As the faith faded, so did the Olympians’ belief in restoring themselves to full power. One by one, they gave up the task of finding a way back until it was only Chan and Zeus left. Two of the brightest minds of Olympus. Even they had to admit their own defeat. 

Which leads to the present day. Chan has taken on a new persona, for the…well, he’s lost track of what number this one is. He’s just thankful for his ability to shapeshift into someone new whenever he needs to. Takes a new name every time, too. At first, he tried to keep in touch with his siblings and the other Olympians. That, too, fades over time. It’s been at least a century since he’s spoken to any of them. Though, occasionally, he’ll catch wind of something through the chattering of local sea creatures. Something that says at least some of them are still out there.

Chan sighs. There’s really no reason for him to be wandering down memory lane in this way. He thinks, not for the first time, that maybe he needs to pick a different cover job. One that will keep his mind a little more occupied. The reality is, though, he’s tried nearly everything he could think of over the centuries. Changing professions is a frequent occurrence when he doesn’t want to let his body show too many signs of age. Not that he minds, it’s just that people start to ask too many questions about how he’s handling things someone “his age” shouldn’t be able to handle. In the end, working with sea life has always been the best. And this set up, where he’s running a smaller aquarium off of some long forgotten boardwalk in an area that doesn’t get much traffic, is also great. It isn’t even that Chan doesn’t like being around people. He finds humans entertaining in most senses. It’s just that nothing in this life is permanent for him. He’s not going to fall in love and grow old with someone. Best to just keep things at arm’s length. 

Most days are more or less the same and Chan works the majority of them. On the rare days off, he’s not far away since his little house is within walking distance of both the aquarium, the boardwalk it’s on, and the water. He trusts the limited staff that he has because he pays them well. Better than any other similar business, but he values loyalty. And they don’t seem to question how he’s able to make things work. That is largely due to the anonymous donors that make monthly contributions to the aquarium. Really, it’s just Chan funneling money that he’s earned over his many years on Earth so that he can keep a business afloat. Nobody seems to have anything to say. Beyond the staff not asking questions, they are all very good at their jobs. It makes life easier for Chan that way because he doesn’t have to micromanage them. Everyone knows what they’re supposed to do and will only ask questions if they hit an actual block. No, the aquarium runs very smoothly. It just doesn’t get a lot of business.

Since every day kind of blends together, Chan almost never realizes as days or weeks or even months pass by. He’s in a sort of autopilot where he also knows what he has to do and just does it without question. It’s just rinse and repeat day in and day out. 

Until it’s not. Until the first day that he notices you in his small, out of the way little aquarium. Until the day that everything starts to change.

[hellsquills]

Some timeline details for the Drafted AU

Drafted AU: a Gravity Falls AU in which Stan didn't break the perpetual motion machine and, instead of kicking him out, Filbrick sent him to Vietnam. Stan runs away. You can read more in this post.

The canon timeline would look something like this:

1969: Stan doesn't break the perpetual motion machine.

He's very sad and frustrated about his brother leaving. Instead of breaking into the school, they have a heated argument in the swings, in which Stan and Ford scream at each other until their true worries come to light: Stan is scared of his brother not having a good enough reason to come back home, and Ford is scared of not being up to their parents' (Filbrick) standards and forever being “the freak”. They talk it out as best as two 17-year-olds can, and they end up hugging and crying. They promise to always stick together, no matter what. They go home with a bond stronger than ever.

Ford leaves for uni in September.

1972: Stan is drafted.

It's been three years since Stanford left. Every once in a while, at least once a week, he calls home to catch up. He's drowning in work and classes, but he's as happy as he's ever been.

Stan is... managing. He picks up some work here and there, helping his dad in the shop, fixing some cars in the local garage and whatnot. Filbrick is not impressed though, and it gets worse when Ford sends part of his grant money. His son is so successful that he makes money just off reading books? And what's his extra kid doing? Not bringing home any money, that's for sure. More like living off his parents, for free, in their house, and eating their food. And so, he does the obvious thing; making Stan's life miserable until he decides to leave the house himself. Caryn doesn't see things the same way as he does, and she's spoiling this leech of a son they have.

One day, around November 1971, the third Vietnam draft lottery is held. Stan had managed to avoid being called for the last two (a friend of one of his dad's friends had some connections), but this time Filbrick makes sure he is called to take the test.

Stan calls his brother in a panic, and they both decide that the best and only course of action is that Stan pretends to be unable to do the physical tests. I'll expand on this in the future, I think, but basically the recruiters call his bluff and threaten to send him to prison if he doesn't cooperate. Stan gives up and passes the test with flying colors.

Stan goes back home knowing fully well he's fucked. He waits for the response. In January 1972, he receives the confirmation. The next day, in the middle of the night, he's out of the house.

1971: Introducing: Fiddleford.

Ford meets Fiddleford in a congress he attends in 1971, in which he gives a presentation on his most recent interest: the supernatural world and the multiverse. When the time for questions begins, all of them are about his perpetual motion machine. He's happy he's recognized by it, but he feels like no one listened to him and his new project. That is, until a lanky blond guy around his age comes up to the microphone and asks a question about a theory based on his. Ford is immediately taken aback by it, and asks the guy when did he come up with it. The guy simply answers that he just put two and two together while he was explaining, and it just occurred to him. Ford, who looks like he just took a peek into deep space, says into the mic: "Meet me in the room H at break".

The pure nerd energy these two emitted in the following two hours could fuel the San Diego Comic Con until California is underwater. They missed the rest of the congress and just kept talking and talking, one-upping each other's theories and finishing each other's equations. The connection is immediate, and they agree to stay in contact while they do their respective degrees.

A couple of years later, thanks to Ford's insistence, Fiddleford applies for a full scholarship at West Coast Tech. The university grants it, and his whole family is incredibly proud. Fiddleford finishes his Bachelor at Backupsmore University and moves in with Ford. They start living together on campus in 1974.

1972–1979: Stan on the run, Ford in uni.

This is basically the canon timeline redux. Stan runs away from the military service and the police altogether. He's still homeless and Ford-levels of paranoid. He doesn't contact his family in fear they'll have to pay the price for his mistakes. He doesn't call either. He doesn't leave the country, although he does come very close in '79. There are LOADS of backstory in this period, but the main point is that he's still a criminal, but much more discreet: no tricking people with faulty products, he doesn't want the authorities to know his location by putting up ads, but he does a bunch of illegal deals, betting, and drugs.

Ford is in uni and, as predicted, he's still working his ass off. He attends every single congress he can, takes as many classes as he can legally take and is overall the same maniac nerd he is in canon. Part of it is still wanting to be the absolute best student at all times, but also because he's genuinely enjoying it. The only difference here is that he also makes time to look for his lost twin, which keeps him somewhat grounded. He also has Fiddleford with him, and he helps a lot.

Ford still calls home around once a week, but he resents his dad because he knows Filbrick had something to do with Satan's draft. As time goes by, he's less and less scared of him and more upset, until he tells him to go to hell. He feels the freest he's ever been. He thinks about Stan and how proud he would've been of him for being the one who stood up to their father for once.

1979: Stan arrives in Tennessee

He arrives at the beginning of summer, around mid-June. He just escaped from a particularly tough situation, so he's trying to lay as low as possible; therefore, he hides in Tennessee, as this state shares a border with many others and it'd be easier to elude whoever is looking for him. That's also why he goes straight for the small towns, instead of the cities.

He's exhausted and broker than he's been in a while. He goes to a small town and orders something small, enough to fuel him for a few more hours. The waitress takes pity on him and serves him a bigger plate on the house. Stan could cry.

Fiddleford just finished his finals, and just as he does every summer, he comes back home to help his family on the farm. That's why he's home when he meets Stan, and not in uni.

Ford spends his summer at West Coast Tech, living on campus and doing extracurricular internships.

1979-82: Life at the McGucket's and the move to Gravity Falls

Stan lives with the McGuckets for two years, although he only lives with Fiddleford during holidays and summers (since he doesn't get married in this AU, he spends some more time studying in uni and working on his own projects). He bonds A LOT with them, and they love having him around.

In 1981, Ford finally receives a big grant to study the supernatural, and he decides to build a house in a town in Oregon called Gravity Falls. He immediately asks Stan and Fiddleford to live with him and to help him in his investigations, if they want to.

Seeing as it is a secluded area (and because he misses his brother like crazy), Stan accepts. So does Fiddleford.

???? - Fiddlestan

When is Fiddlestan established in this AU? Who falls first (and who falls harder)? When does Ford find out? Does he help any of them out? Does Fidds' family know? Your call, honestly.

[if you share your ideas i'll kiss your forehead]

I'm torn between them falling in love in the holidays and then pining through the phone while they're away, being an established couple before they move to Gravity Falls or getting together while they're there. Either way it's teeth-rotting fluff, I can tell you that much.

[radsoldier]

Runaway

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x fem!reader

Summary: you end up in a city you hate but maybe the company makes it worth the while.

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: none?

a/n: this is my first time writting for Jenna and english is not my first language so keep that in mind <3

It was 4am and you were stranded at the airport. your flight was delayed due to a raging storm and you decided to stay the night instead of booking a room. you were used to airports by now anyway.

Your job required you to travel a lot. You were a firefighter and you also worked as a volunteer with the IFRA (International Fire and Rescue Association) so yes, you spent a lot of time wandering around airports.

You were training some mexican units and the weather was horribly hot, so as soon as the job was finished you found yourself desperate to find a way back home. You knew there would be no direct flights from Mexico to Iceland in fucking November so you settled for a connecting flight via New York.

That's how you ended up slouched over a small table questioning every decision you ever made.

You knew the weather in Iceland, you weren't born there but it was the place you proudly called home. So you knew this storm could either be over in a few hours or block all the flights for at least a week. You didn't like that thought though.

You looked around and saw a large group of people walking towards some free seats near you so you made the smart decision of getting up and gathering your small suitcase and the book you were reading. You were not in the mood for chatting with strangers and you felt the need to move your legs anyway so you plugged your headphones in and started walking with no direction in mind. You found a much quieter and less crowded corner and you unconsciously sped up in hopes to get there before someone could spot the couple of empty chairs under some burnt lights. You were lost in your thoughts and inmersed in the music until someone bumped into your side, throwing you off balance and making you drop your book. You turned around to see a small figure crouching over and picking up your book.

"I'm sorry" it was a beautiful voice.

She looked at you and smiled and you just froze.

"Sylvia Plath, huh?" she smiled and your eyes became fixated in the small dimples on her cheeks.

You just nodded, somehow keeping a sense of calmness in your words when you spoke.

"Would say it's my toxic trait but I like to think it's more like my biggest flex."

She laughed and you found yourself unable to look away from her.

"I'm Jenna" she simply said, extending her hand.

"I know" you answered meeting her hand in a soft handshake. "I'm Y/N."

She just smiled, not breaking eye contact.

"It's a beautiful name" she said, disentangling your hands. "Now, Y/N, please tell me we can share that secluded corner for awhile?" she sounded a little desperate despite the playful tone and the lingering smile.

You motioned for her to go ahead and she took a couple steps forward before looking back at you.

"You coming?" her smile made you feel warm inside.

You followed her and sat in one of the chairs, ready to pull your phone out and go back to your playlist.

"There you go" Jenna said handing you the book. "Did you get here too soon too?"

You frowned at her shaking your head.

"My flight was delayed" you answered. "When's yours supposed to take off?"

"In a couple of hours" she said tiredly.

You couldn't help but laugh, earning a fierce glare from Jenna. "She looks cute" you thought.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" you said, still laughing a little.

"No, you're not" she retorted with a smile. "So… Where are you flying, Y/N?" She asked curious.

"Iceland" you said with a happy sigh. " But seems like the weather doesn't like my plans."

"Sure" she snorted. "Iceland seems like an amazing destination, though. Business or pleasure?"

"Neither" you said "well, for pleasure I guess."

She looked at you with a weird look, like she was trying to decipher some kind of mystery.

You cleared your throat and tried to explain.

"I live there. Well, at least when I'm not working or on a mission. I usually go visit whenever I have a few days off."

"A mission?" she said, as if it was the only thing she heard.

"Yeah, well" you touched the back of your neck, unsure. "I'm a firefighter so sometimes we volunteer to go on training or rescue missions."

"Really?" she said, her eyes shinning with a strange glimmer in them.

You nodded, not knowing what to say.

"And you live in Iceland? Whoah" she gestured with her hands while mouting the word "mindblowing".

You had to laugh at that.

"Yeah, but I spend most of the year working on England or traveling, you know" you explained.

She nodded at that.

"Seems like your full of surprises, Y/N" she smiled at you.

You checked the time on your phone only to be met with a notification saying "CANCELLED FLIGHT 18-705".

"Fuck" you cursed under your breath. "They cancelled my flight."

Jenna looked at you serious but didn't say anything until she saw you getting up from the chair.

"Where are you going?" she asked scrunching her face.

"It's almost 6am, I'm getting you to your boarding gate and then I'm calling a friend to see if I can crash at her place" you explained with a smile.

Without saying anything she got up aswell and checked her phone for the info she needed then she started walking toward the gate without much thought.

Until some guy grabbed her arm and started screaming about how he got so lucky to run into THE Jenna Ortega. Her face was showing clear signs of discomfort and… pain? Was the guy hurting her? You inmediately stepped toward them and took his wrist in your hand and with just enough force you made him let go of her.

He wasn't happy, the looks he was giving you made it clear but he wouldn't try anything by the slight fear in his eyes.

"Maybe you should try asking first next time" you said coldly before leading Jenna away from him.

She was quiet and wouldn't look at you and you wondered if she was maybe angry because of what you did?

"I'm sorry, I was out of place but he seemed like a bit too much" you started, smiling tentatively. "I'm really so…"

"Don't be" she cut you off, still not looking at you. "He took me by surprise" she admitted. "Thank you" she continued lifting her face to look at you with some sense of… fondness?

She seemed genuinely grateful and you couldn't shake the feeling that accompained the thought of this kind of situation happening to her everyday.

"It was nothing" you said shrugging it off.

You continued walking toward her boarding gate in a comfortable silence.

"This is me" she said with a nervous smile.

"Be safe" you said. "Have a nice flight, Jenna."

You turned to leave but her voice made you stop.

"Wait" you turned again, now facing her. "Thank you, Y/N."

You smiled at her starting to walk backwards as people you assumed wanted to board the very same plane started filling the space and when you could no longer see her you turned fully determined to find the exit and then call Gio to ask for a ride and a couch to crash on.

Meanwhile, Jenna got seated on the plane when a thought came into her mind.

She forgot to ask for your phone number!!

[rosalindbeatrice]

Thought I'd dust off this 10-year-old Tumblr and invite A03 readers and any Bob Dylan fans to keep up with my writing here. Other unrelated content to maybe be added, maybe not. I really struggle with personal writing. I always think of it as looking at one's own excrement and then inviting others to gawk too. It feels strange and gross to write a blog and expect others to be interested in it. RE: The Patient. Part VI is in progress. I got blocked in late October--or maybe that's just a grand way of saying "busy." I have a personal life into which I'm forever cramming little interests in side projects, and then it was November 5, 2024, and then of course the unthinkable happened again, which I suppose makes it thinkable. And maybe that's why it wasn't as devastating this time around. I used the occasion to disconnect from the political news cycle and continue a recent left turn into poetry, which I haven't written in 15 odd years or so. Actually Bob Dylan was the reason for my foray back into it. I saw him live in September and was quite moved by the experience. I got to thinking about his legacy, all the interpretations and expectations people put on his lyrics and performances and public endeavors throughout the years, and the disappointment it seemed like 5/6 of the audience that night felt over the fact he's not attempting to play recognizable versions of his songs. Which is ridiculous, because you can go back to 1966 and he wasn't attempting to replicate the recorded versions. It seems ridiculous that anyone should expect an 83-year-old to try to mimic a 25-year-old. So a poem came pouring out and I sent out it for publication. I secretly hope it will be so good that the editors will have no choice to select it. I'm also realistic, since I've gotten my first rejections the past couple months. That's one of my other behind-the-scenes projects. I'm shopping around a book to an agent (not fiction) and I've gotten three or four rejections so far, and I'm just letting it "bake" for now, just like I've been letting The Patient bake, but more on that in a moment.

In November, Bob tweeted: "Saw Nick Cave in Paris recently at the Accor Arena and I was really struck by that song Joy where he sings ‘We’ve all had too much sorrow, now it the time for joy.' I was thinking to myself, yeah that’s about right.” I read Cave's response, and particularly loved this:

I did indeed feel it was a time for joy rather than sorrow. There had been such an excess of despair and desperation around the election, and one couldn’t help but ask when it was that politics became everything.

The world had grown thoroughly disenchanted, and its feverish obsession with politics and its leaders had thrown up so many palisades that had prevented us from experiencing the presence of anything remotely like the spirit, the sacred, or the transcendent – that holy place where joy resides.

While I abhor the lazy line of thinking (and I'm not at all suggesting this is where Cave is coming from) that "both sides are at fault/just as bad/to blame" and have no intention of disengaging from politics, at least locally, Bob and Cave's reflections had me reflecting. Life is so short. Music, poetry, writing, and nature make it worth living. There's something to be said for tuning out of the hateful noise and tuning into those things, at least for select periods. So I wrote poetry and I drank in music and I finished the book I started that night at Bob's concert, Susan Hill's Strange Meeting. I'd never heard of Hill before but had picked up my 1970s paperback copy at a "donate what you can" book sale earlier that day because it was slim enough to carry around. This chance purchase ended up being my favorite book of the year. Not only is Hill an amazing writer, the whole experience of the book was just gutting. I realized midway through that it's a love story. There are no overt overtones of queerness, although I suppose you could read the book that way if you wanted. I kept thinking about the characters days after I read it. I've just bought three or four more of her books. So to get back to The Patient, I haven't written partly because I've been busy in my personal life and partly because I've been directing my creative energies elsewhere. I'd be lying if I didn't acknowledge I was stuck on the story, though. I know how it ends, but I couldn't see the footpath there. It didn't bother me overtly. I don't know if I really believe in writer's block, at least for me. I've learned that I go through periods of fallowness and periods of intense growth. I was letting it percolate before I started pushing it along with pomodoros. At some point today, though, I started chewing over Bob and Joyce again, and things clicked. I know fan fiction is "only" fan fiction, but I still take it seriously. I want to do right by the characters.* They just weren't talking to me lately. I know what Joyce wants and what she thinks so wants, and I know what Bob thinks he wants and he's afraid of, but I didn't know what happens in the meantime. So anyway, I'm about 4k words into the chapter with 5k to 6k to go. Estimated completion date is January. The overachiever in me wanted to finish it before the Chalamet film was released yesterday, partly because I didn't want anyone to think the story had been influenced by the film, but the part of me that's gone to therapy said, 'Slow down and chill the fuck out.' I haven't seen the Chalamet film, but I'm cautiously optimistic. I might go catch it on Monday or Tuesday. I don't find Chalamet much of a heartthrob. It's the elder millennial in me I think. Also the me that just detests pop culture. I saw him in Little Women and completely forgot he'd been in it. The more checked out I am from pop culture the better. Anyway, enjoy this photo of Bob by the pool ca. 1965 that I stole off the Internet. You can find The Patient here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55283422?view_full_work=true

*Make no mistake, Joyce and Bob are characters. I have no pretense that I know Bob Dylan. I can make educated guesses about Bob Dylan. Plus writing is just fun, doubly so with real musical artists and writers because they're so multilayered. There's a lot of material to work with, but you get to fill in the interstitials too.

[anotherfcknschlattsimp]

baby brother!Charlie getting wood late at night and coming to wake you up for help because hes just so horny for you its pathetic and he doesnt know what else to do with himself

oh how i love you brother!Charlie

im french kissing your brain pookie <3

hey, ignore that it's mid-november, here's a halloween post

genderfucked reader, im indecisive

cw: somno, incest (WAHOO), dubcon but everyone's fine with everything, of course one of my first works back is part of the sibcon charlie au (as far as i know, created by @moistcl1tikal-ao3 )

he couldnt stop looking at you all night, your cute little whore-for-halloween costume hugging you just perfectly. but he had to save those thoughts and memories for later!

except later did not happen, he crashed as soon as he laid down on his bed after the parties and events you dragged him to so you could show off your cute, nerdy lil bro

so, naturally, he woke up about 2 hours later with the hardest boner of his life the month. all because he kept dreaming of getting to touch you under your booty shorts

poor boy was still too tired to wanna deal with it though! so he tried to go back to sleep, deal with it in the morning, but he couldnt get comfy or stop thinking about your head between his legs

plan a failed, time for plan b: choke the chicken

he tried so hard, looked up all his favorite pornos, his favorite pictures of you, a pair of stolen panties, he pulled out all the stops :/ and it just made him ache and throb more for you

so final plan, the riskiest plan, wake you up and beg on his goddamn knees that you aren't too grumpy

he knew you werent the nicest person ever when you got woken up, especially when somewhat hungover, so he tread with caution

even got a towel, pillow, snack, and bottle of water for you :(

busts out every petname in the book when he tries to shake you awake

"sissy.. sis? brother?? dearest sibling??? bubba???? 🤨 you alive motherfucker???" the shaking picked up speed and intensity, no longer worried about you being mad, just half convinced you passed away in your sleep

"geddafuqouddaherecharlee" you mutter, smacking him away but still rolling over for him to join you, thinking he had a nightmare or something

charlie slid into bed behind you, careful to not make any sudden moves, worried he'd say or do the wrong thing and ruin his chances of getting some tonight

he talked to you sweetly, gently, with purpose, he was making amazing points

"i dunno if i'm allowed to ask or if only you get to initiate but i'll do all your chores for a month if you help me out here..."

he waited

nothing happened

you were out COLD

so time for his impromptu new final plan: beg for forgiveness not permission. he tries to rationalize it! you've never rejected his advances before, you're insatiable, this is probably something your into! maybe just being in your bed and surrounded by the smell of you can help him get there

so he stole some lube from your bedside table

it was so absurdly cold that he of course made a very manly sound (screamed like a mouse would) and jumped a bit, enough to wake you up again

so you turn to charlie, terrified because what the fuck was your little brother possibly experiencing to shatter everyone's eardrums at 2:33am

and you catch him, cock in one hand, other hand covering his mouth to avoid making more noise, but you already caught him slick-handed. and if you weren't so exhausted you would absolutely jump his bones in an instant, but the hangover was already kicking in so while seeing your younger brother trying to jerk off to you in your own bed would usually light a bonfire in your gut, this was more like a backyard fire pit sized one

so, being the amazing older sibling you are, you chuckle and coo at him, inching your hand towards the one on his cock

"awww my poor baby brother cant get off without me?" you fake a pout as your hand finds its way to cupping his balls, massaging gently

"pleasepleaseplease, need you so bad, needed you-needed you all night" he begs and involuntarily bucks his hips into your hand, eyes glued shut and hands fisted in your sheets, overcome with pleasure

he doesn't see or i guess hear or feel you shifting to be closer to his dick, or he just doesn't acknowledge it

but he sure notices when you grab the base and flick your tongue over the tip

"you're too cute" is the last thing he hears before being overrun by pure ecstasy as he finally cums when you take him fully down your throat, thank yous pouring out of his pink, bitten lips

his hands fly to hold your head in place, you let him until you start gagging

he lets go and starts profusely apologizing and thanking you

"you can make it up to me if you want.." you say seductively as you lay on your back and spread your knees just enough to get the point across

@th3-circus @xoxoave @jschladderall @manticore-fangs

im not dead which is shocking to everyone im pretty sure.. anyway here ya go <3

[lynzine]

NaNoWriMo Alternatives

If you know what's happening (and has happened last year with NaNo) I want to offer some alternatives that people are working on to keep the event while ditching the organization.

@novella-november

I may reblog this post as I learn more but there are two right off the bat!

If you don't know why I feel the need to advocate for alternatives I will be getting into the second issue (not the triggering scandal last year) below the break.

(Long story short: On top of last year's scandal... they now have an AI sponsor. Which is a big red flag for me and feels like they are looking for content to train their AIs on as well as new consumers. What better place than thousands of unpublished novelists working on completing a novel in a month?)

(PS If you reblog... I don't need details of last year's scandal... please.)

-

Hi everyone, if you've been with me for a while you might know I'm a fan fo NaNoWriMo... The event, no longer the organization. I was wary... but willing to see how new policies and restructuring shook out after the major scandal last year (if you aren't aware, I won't be going into the details here, but you may find them triggering).

It's this second issue that I feel that I can actually speak on... Because NaNoWriMo has a new sponsor... and that sponsor is AI.

When I first heard that NaNo was okay with AI, I was wary but... not too upset. After all, NaNo's big thing for a long time was just "Just write" basically however you had too, whatever tools you need. I know that there are AIs designed to aid with grammar and clarity. And that seemed... if not fine, than understandable. NaNo (for me) is a major source of motivation and I could completely understand why NaNo wouldn't want wins invalidated because they used some kind of AI to help them along. Then I found out that NaNo picked up an AI sponsor and that completely changed the story for me. It went from the people NaNo served... to supporting one of the organizations that might be ripping off writers.

As I've said in the notes of my fics when I reluctantly took steps to protect my work from AIs like ChatGPT, putting my work in an AI is essentially monetizing my work without reimbursing me and other writers and undercutting jobs in writing that people like me truly want. I don't know what this sponsor's actual AI is like. But it is a massive red flag that they are sponsoring an organization that's focused on an event that generates thousands of potential books to train their AI on.

NaNo's official stance is "We also want to be clear in our belief that the categorical condemnation of Artificial Intelligence has classist and ableist undertones, and that questions around the use of AI tie to questions around privilege." NaNo is experiencing a lot of backlash.

I will be hoping that one of the alternatives are up and running come November.

[nowoyas]

Legs Spreadable Arrangements (NSFW)

M.list (Edible Arrangements) - M.list (General) - Read on Ao3

A/N: hey do those of you reading EA right now want a spinoff that's Not Doing That right now? here, on me. I don't remember writing this but I'm glad for the chance to use my EA after dark banner again! if you're not an EA reader, you don't need to be to read this! it works as a standalone just fine.

Summary: You dream sometimes, too.

Warnings/notes: this is just smut. I'm not gonna "under 18 dni" y'all but if you ARE under 18 I don't want to hear about it. LOTS of biting, bloodplay, afab reader, dubiously dubcon, a bit of aphrodisiacs coming into play. vampire!Izuku x reader. this is a spinoff of Edible Arrangements and takes place after EA 28, but reading EA is not necessary to understand or enjoy this spinoff. this is also a companion piece to Almost Wet. As with Almost Wet, you do not need to read this to understand and appreciate the greater EA fic!

Word count: ~2200 words

“Um, [n-name]?”

You pick up your nose from your book. You’d been glancing over its pages, over and over again, processing not a single word of it. You’re not sure when Izuku entered the library, but he’s here now, looking at you with lip caught between his teeth. Immediately, you notice the thirsty look in his eyes. “Need something, Izu?”

“Well… um…”

You smile, set aside your book. He comes to sit on the opposite side of the library’s new couch—a recent addition, though you can’t remember when Izuku bought it to begin with. It’s nice, though, the texture lovely against your skin as you find your one spare moment this November to just read something. “Come on, spit it out.”

“I’m… I need another drink,” he blurts.

You blink slowly, tilting your head. “Another? I just fed you last night.”

“Yes, but... I’m just… please, [name]. I’m so thirsty.” He’s leaning closer, and you’re adjusting to it, turning to face him. He’s not even lying, not even the faintest hint of a glow to him as he pleads for even one more drop of your blood.

“If you’re really that thirsty, then…” You let out a good-natured sigh, running a hand through your hair. “Have at me. Watch out, though.” You waggle an eyebrow at him. “You’re starting to act like you’re addicted or something.”

He leans over you, and then, again, he’s crawling over your body, muscular arms caging you in.

Today’s been quiet. You haven’t focused a moment, not since last night’s drink. The truth is…

“You’re the one addicted, aren’t you?” he mumbles against the flesh of your neck. He’s so, so close to danger, and that thrill courses through you all over again.

You shudder, let your head drop back to allow him greater access. The second his fangs touch flesh, you can’t fight the shaky breath that leaves your lips.

“You have got to stop teasing me like this,” he mumbles.

“What do you—ah—“ This time, like every time, feels downright sinful, fangs effortlessly piercing skin like they were crafted to do. Of course a tiny moan leaves you. Of course he hears it. Your stomach drops—you’re in deep shit this time. You expect him to jump off of you, to flurry apologies your way until you find a way to convince him that really, it’s fine, but he doesn’t.

He pulls back, slow, lathing his tongue over the new wounds even though he must have barely gotten a few drops from you. “See, that’s exactly what I mean. D-do you have any idea what you do to me?”

He’s back again in a moment, switching sides and moving you to do it without question. You let him, feeling the sweet pain of his teeth on your neck, the sweet rush of his venom flooding into you. It’s small, at first—just enough for the pain to slip away, but quickly, that fluttery, woozy feeling rushes to your head.

It’s so… nice.

“I’m not wrong, am I?” he says as he pulls off again. That, too, was barely a bite. “You love this.” A graze of his teeth, further up your neck. His hands move to reposition you firmly, but not painfully, gripping your shoulders. You shudder with each flash of his teeth on your skin. “You’d let me bite you whenever I wanted.” Again. “However I wanted.” Again. “Wherever I wanted.” Again. “Isn’t that right, [name]?”

You nod, words dying in your throat. “God, Izuku, you tell me to stop teasing and then you—“

He captures your lips, and there’s not another word to be had between you.

Izuku is a surprisingly good kisser, especially for someone who likely hasn’t kissed anyone since he was human. (Or maybe he has. That would be a long time to go without it.) Every sensation of it has your synapses firing, the world a cascade of nothing but experiences. Already you’re dizzy, already your head’s spinning. You kiss back with a fervor that has him moaning openly into your mouth.

This is what you’ve wanted. This is right.

Before long, hot, open-mouthed kisses trail off your lips and trace your jawline. Before longer, he’s on your neck again, sucking hickeys into bite marks and kissing each and every one.

“How are you ever going to be able to move on from me if you let me keep this up?” he mumbles into your throat. “After all I’ve done?”

You shudder, eyes half-lidded. “Whaddaya mean?”

“You’re going to be covered in scars,” he breathes. “I’m going to have you marked everywhere.”

You laugh, feeling delirious from the speed of it all. Perhaps also something else taking hold—each successive bite has left you ever loopier, ever more sensitive. “You bite too pretty to scar. You’re gonna have to be a bit rougher with me if you want the marks to last.”

Though his cheeks are red, it doesn’t impede him. “I-I could do that. I could bite you places future boyfriends will never be overlook. Harder, deeper, to make sure the bites never leave.”

You regard him with hot cheeks. “You could.”

“May I?”

“Please.”

The flurry of heat, teeth, and blood descends on you. You’re overtaken by Izuku’s mouth—buttons of your button-down top popping away, flesh decorated with new smears of blood, new open wounds dotting your neck, your collarbone, the swell of your breasts. And again, with each new bite, each lathe of his tongue over your wounds, your head grows hazier. Each bite is small, closed up quickly—you don’t think it’s blood loss carrying you away. (Not that you can think.)

“I’ve seen the way you look at my teeth, you know.”

“Zuku—“

“You like this, don’t you? Love it, even?”

“Zuku—“

He’s moved away from the exposed swell of your breast now, taken your left hand—your unburned hand—in his. Your wrist is wrapped completely by his large hands, and he meets your eyes with a viridescent smoke as he takes your wrist to his lips. “Even if I could change you. Even if I could control you. Even if I could make you do anything I asked?”

“You don’t need to enthrall me to do that.”

“But you’d like it if I did?”

You don’t even hesitate to nod. In that moment, all you can see is vivid green eyes and stark white fangs. In your mind, he moves, sinks his teeth into the flesh of your wrist, stares at you so sweetly as he takes over your head. In your mind, he wants you to give yourself completely to him. In your mind, you would have been compliant, but you lose that choice willingly. In your mind, neither of you looks away.

In this reality, however, he places a single, soft kiss there and firmly places your wrist on the sofa. He has other plans for you, apparently. He pulls you by your legs with ease, until his hips slot against yours and you’re flat on your back. You’re glad you chose some of your shorter sleep shorts today. Glad he has access.

His teeth brush against your inner thigh with barely an effort from him. You flinch in spite of yourself, and he reaches up to hold your leg firmly in place. "Careful," he mutters, more to your thighs than you, "it's dangerous here."

It is. It is dangerous, and danger is delicious, especially with your head swimming the way it is.

Izuku, you think as he moves in, because it's all you can think.

"Izuku," you gasp when he begins to suck on the soft flesh, because it's all you can say.

"Izu—" you barely manage when he pulls away to reveal the already-forming hickey he's left there, because it's all you can manage.

He's shifting position again, now, hungry eyes devouring your form as he pulls your clothes away. Your shirt had been hanging on by a thread before, but now, it's gone, your bra pulled out of the way before you can process or even blink, lips closing over your unloved nipple. This isn't happening. It can't be, and yet, all you can see is the fluffy mass of curls on his head as his tongue swirls around your bud. However, even when he's making you see stars—too much, it's all too much, why is this so much—he can't shut up.

"I'm glad to have you to test on," he says when he comes up for air.

"Nn?"

"I had a theory that vampire venom was a bit more than just a painkiller, you know? And I think we're proving it quite nicely. Can I test it out some more?"

You nod, shallow. All you can comprehend is that last word—more—and that's more than enough for you. Every touch he leaves on your skin, every kiss, every bite, every tease, leaves your skin singing out for more—heightened, sensitive, sweet.

Time has blurred. You process when he bites your unmarked thigh, holding you down with a firm grip (later you'll think it was for your safety, though the ease of it alone has you shuddering). You process the feeling of heat flooding through you, a new wave crashing down on you, and you process that when the heat clears, his eyes watch from beneath your legs with a sharp, calculating look. Only then do you feel his tongue. Only then do you realize you've been keening out his name this whole time, a mantra, a chant—Izuku Izuku Izuku—until it doesn't sound real anymore.

And damn, is he good with his tongue. Or maybe he's just good at reading you—the way your voice pitches when he moves just right, the way your hips threaten to buck if not for his hands holding you down. He's certainly good enough to know exactly the right moments to pull away from you to leave you whining.

"Be patient," he tuts, "I'm not done with you yet."

You tug at him, finally find the strength to move an arm and bury fingers in his hair. And then, he's back on you, a man starved, building, tongue lathing over your clit and dipping inside of you until that knot's back in your stomach, pulling tighter, tighter, taut—

"Izuku please," you nearly cry when he pulls off of you again.

He laughs, and it sounds sadistic to you as he presses soft kisses to your thighs again. "I can't help it. This isn't just about you, you know."

He sounds too sweet as he takes the time to once again leave small bites on your thighs. Like you needed even more of that damn aphrodisiac to—to—

There's his tongue again. This time, you're determined to hold him down until he makes you cum, tugging at his hair, but you find your hands weak with the pleasure. He pulls off of you and you find that you are crying, even as he pulls away entirely and mumbles soft apologies your way.

When he slides into you, you see stars. It's easy, you're slicker than you've ever been—you're well-prepared but he's big. You didn't even see him undress—a true tragedy, but one you can't find that you care about now that his cock's speared you. The edging had been necessary, even with all the help of vampire venom flooding through you and turning you stupid.

He's so, so gentle. He has to be, with the way he stretches you out. It takes ages for him to move, and when he does, you feel every inch—slow and deliberate and so, so good. Worth the hell of the wait, even as you find yourself now chanting more instead of his name. It feels like it takes years for him to pick up the pace, and then he's losing himself, pressing into you to the hilt again and again.

"More," you cry.

"I wanna make this last," he replies, but he only thrusts faster. His speed and force, more and more of both, until all that's left is to let your mouth hang open and feel it. It's so good, so good, so—

Your eyes open, your will to keep them closed nowhere to be found. Being awake is unpleasant—the heat between your legs damp and slick and your stomach fluttering with the effects of a dream you could have happily kept having.

And then you remember.

You fell asleep next to Izuku last night.

You shoot up, sitting bolt upright as you take in your surroundings with a sense of dread. You're expecting to see his face, red, eyes wide with disgust because you're stupid, so stupid, how could you—

But he's not here. In fact, you're not on the floor next to him and Sbeve anymore. You’re in your room, in your bed (not slept in for a good few nights before this), fully dressed and alone, the door shut. He must have woken up before you and carried you to bed.

You decide two things:

One, that there’s no reason not to finish the job. (Your hand slides down to the heat between your legs.)

Two, that after this, you’re going to forget any of this ever happened.

It’s all you can do.

Tags: @tooloudarts​ @xxangelpridexx​ @lirinstaalem @izoodles​​ @denise-the-death-goddess @themerpenguin​ @sincerelybubbles​ @fudobaby​ @imabootywarrior​ @chickynn​ @fuc-kingmonkey​​ @the-secret-thief​​ @kc-korra​ @kiliakit​ @hay-leeeah​ @meowkid1000​ @mha-baku-todo-deku-kiri​ @jojo-buttercup​ @starfishlovingbnha​​ @wwwwyamd​ @omiwashere​ @emilytheeggy​ @subwayslander​ @thelittle-witch​ @sparkexplosive​ @shoutaaizawas​ @vanilladyfics​ @stargazerunlimited​ @chaoticevilbakugo​ @deeplightgarden @stxrrielle @idonthaveanameideayet @snowymaltese @bnha-babygirl @graywrites20 @dusstory @sky-angel101

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[sheisaquarius-blog]

Hi regarding your last ask idk if you're accepting ian day prompts as early as now but feel free to ignore this if you aren't yet lol sorry but I wanted to share a prompt that idk if it fits your style so feel free to ignore this if not. No worries and no pressure this is just my random ianthony brainrots lol. anyway prompt is superhero!anthony + reporter/journalist!ian. He finds out identity while being saved. childhood bestfriends. has a crush on anthony's hero persona. You can add your own personal details as well as I love your ideas lol sorry if this is also cliche but sometimes we just need a good cliche. Anyway thank you absolutely love your writing

this is SO nice of you!! this is such a good fit for my style, i had a blast. there's probably a really serious, gritty, angsty version of this prompt that would be a lot of fun to write, too, but i love a joke. i'm also a comic book nerd in recovery, so deciding that all superheroes exist in the same world for this one was fun! plus, i got to stuff it full of smosh references too. i had to hold myself back, i could have done a LOT more.

“Only in Bit City,” Ian grumbles to himself while he ducks under a marble counter. He flinches as a few bullets glance off, shedding debris onto the bank floor. Ian reaches a hand inside his messenger bag and presses record on his tape recorder. Old fashioned, yes, but criminals only ever ask for phones and watches nowadays. Ian’s never lost a story since he started carrying this thing around.

“Bit City Bank, November 30th, 3:39 pm,” he mutters as quietly and clearly as he can. “The Woke Mob are holing up the teller window. Shots fired, but no one harmed. They just kinda randomly pull their guns out and shoot all over the place.” Perhaps that last piece is a little editorial, but he’s allowed a little personal flavor when he could potentially die from sheer trigger-happy negligence.

Ian peeks around the corner, only to quickly duck back when his absolute least favorite police sergeant and his stupid mustache come barreling in, shooting even more wildly than the Woke Mob goons.

“Alriiiiiiight!” Anous shouts, and Ian is already over it. He crawls around the table and starts helping a young couple towards the door as Anous and his troupe make for a standoff with the goons. It doesn’t stay a standoff for long, though. The moment Ian dives back under the table to try and usher a few other hostages towards the door, all hell breaks loose. Bullets fly everywhere, and Ian just braces in front of a young girl with long blonde hair and a bank lollipop in her hand, distraught. She looks right out of an LA influencer’s vision board, so he assumes she isn’t from around here. “It’s okay,” he says as evenly as he can. “It’s gonna be okay. I’ve lived here my whole life. There’s always a hero,” he reassures her.

Like on cue, he hears one of the gangsters in a put upon accent shout. “Hey! You! Get outta da rafters and fight like a man!”

“You can’t say that!”

“Oh, shit, you’re right. Come down and fight like a person, however you identify!”

Ian glances over his shoulder and he sees a graceful figure in black drop down to the ground like liquid shadow, then darting around.

Great. It’s the new guy. Ian had been hoping for someone with a little more experience, a little more know-how, but a hero’s a hero, he supposes. At least it’s not the fourteen year old with the katana.

This is the moment, and Ian decides to take the chance. “C’mon,” he says, picking her up and pulling her towards the entrance. It isn’t a long way, and the dark figure seems to be managing alright, taking out a goon or two at a time.

Ian pushes the girl out of the door, just in time to feel a piercing pain right through his shoulder. “Oh, fuck,” he mumbles to himself just before he collapses to the floor.

He wasn’t exactly looking forward to getting shot today. Almost seven years he’s been a reporter, and of course today’s the day he gets shot. On his fucking birthday.

God damn it.

He falls to the floor in a heap, his right-hand clapping over his insistently bleeding shoulder and gritting his teeth. He can vaguely hear commotion behind him, but it’s drowned out by the ringing in his ears. If he bleeds out and the last thing he can hear is Sergeant Anous shouting at the top of his lungs, he’s gonna be pissed.

He isn’t sure how long it takes, but it feels like a while before a man in black with a domino mask is hovering over him. “Oh, shit.”

“Yup,” Ian agrees without unclenching his jaw. “Uh. Would love some medical attention, if you’ve got a sec.”

“Is everyone out?” “I don’t know! Isn’t that your job?” Ian squeezes his eyes closed.

“I’m new at this!”

Ian breathes deeply in and out through his nose. He peeks an eye open, sweeps the whole place, and it sure does seem like the only people left are the police and the Woke Mob. “Looks clear,” he mumbles.

“Okay, hang on.”

His tape recorder better be okay, Ian thinks as the hero scoops him up and he promptly blacks out. ***

“So,” Ian says, tilting his head to the side as he looks down the alleyway. His shoulder still aches, but if he digs his hands in his pockets, the hunching looks intentional. At the other end of the alley, the figure freezes. “Thanks for bandaging me up. I still need to lodge a complaint with BCPD, since it was an officer who shot me, but I have a few other things to square away first.”

It’s been almost a week and Ian has been going back and forth over what he should do. Turns out, his tape recorder had been fine, and it had caught a little more than he had bargained for, such as his lifelong best friend and crush begging for Ian to “stay with him,” and Ian knows what his name sounds like coming out of Anthony’s mouth.

“What do you need my help with?” Anthony asks.

“I was wondering if you could maybe hang Sergeant Anous up in a web by his ankles. Maybe in just his boxers, if we’re feeling really creative.”

“What? No, I can’t—”

“I know,” Ian says, holding a hand up to cut him off. “I know, that’s the other guy. I was kidding. Bummer, though,” he says, walking slowly towards Anthony, and now he can see it. He can see his very particular build, his careful control, the way he glances around even in that domino mask—it’s pure Anthony.

Some reporter he is.

“Would have been kind of fun to do the upside-down kiss. Oh well. I was wondering if I could get a quote from you. On record.”

“Uh, don’t rob banks?” Ian can see the tension in Anthony’s shoulders as he backs up to the wall behind him, but still, Ian presses forward. He’s going to start skittering if Ian doesn’t stop.

“Fair,” Ian says. “Now, anything you want to say, off the record?”

“Uh… No? Not particularly?” “How about ‘oh, glad you didn’t die, sorry I haven’t been by this week,’” he offers.

“I don’t—I wouldn’t—I mean. Sorry, Ian, I don’t really checkup once I do the hero thing.”

Ian lifts an eyebrow, a satisfied smirk on his lips. Caught in his own web. Shakespeare couldn’t write it better. Lois Lane… Now she’s a talent. Ian needs to call her this week because damn does he have a Bit City hero scoop. Off the record, of course.

“I don’t think I introduced myself when I was bleeding out.”

Anthony looks petrified, Ian can see it behind the mask. “You didn’t,” Anthony agrees, stalling for time. “But, your ID…”

“Was in my bag. Along with the running tape recorder, and I know you know how those things work because you sold it to me after I complained that robbers always take my phones, you little tech geek.” Ian steps forward and lifts his hands to the corners of the mask. He starts pulling the black fabric away, slow enough that Anthony could run if he wants to.

He stays still. Very tense, but still.

Brown eyes Ian would know in pitch black darkness stare at him as he lowers the mask.

“Hey, Anthony.”

“Hey, Ian.”

“Fight any bad guys today?”

“Uh, nope. Just feeding the detective agency a little intel. There was a food crime down on 69th street last night, thought Detective Miller should know.”

“Nice.”

“Detective Coffee chased me out though. Christ still doesn’t like me, but I’m her Creekside Killer contact.”

“Uh huh.”

“Um. Are you mad at me?”

“A little.”

“I think I can still give that upside down kiss thing a shot. Would that help?”

Ian considers a moment, looking up at Anthony. “What the hell, I already got shot. It’ll give me something to brag about when Peter Parker starts dropping Spider-man pics later this week.”

“That’s not—”

“I know,” Ian says, shaking his head. “You’re the other guy.”

[punkette1026]

Runaway (part 1)

Summary: Running away is your specialty. When things don't go your away you run and never look back. However when a tragedy happens, you are left with a choice, run or lose the one person that means the world to you.

Trigger warning: This story deals with miscarriage and coping with the loss of a child. Please feel free to skip if uncomfortable.

This was a writing challenge that we have going in our Pascal's fan net discord. The challenge was to take a song and write it into a story. #pascalsnetwritingchallenge

Song: come into my arms by November Ultra

How, how can you catch the sun? Can you breathe when you're on the run? Slow down my darling

Every now and then Come and take my hand

For every little lie you tell so you can hide Will grow inside your chest

Your heart will need to rest So come into my arms

I hope you enjoy. Again please feel free to leave feedback. It helps me out.

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This was the third time this week that Joel had woken up with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wished it was his alarm clock or the sun peaking through the curtains that got him up from his restless slumber, but it was him rolling over and not feeling you beside him. All his strong calloused hand was met with was the cold sheets and your empty pillow. He immediately shot out of bed knowing it was going to be one of those days.

Walking down the stairs still wiping the sleep from his eyes, Joel looked out in the backyard and found you out by the pool with your feet dipped in the water and a book in your hand. “Hey darlin, it’s like eight in the morning. What are you doing out here?”

You don’t budge as he takes a seat next to you. You don’t even turn to kiss him good morning. You just keep your eyes on your book, rereading the same paragraph for the tenth time, “I couldn’t sleep anymore and I didn’t want to wake you up, so I came out here. Watched the sun come up and everything.”

“First off, you can wake me up whenever you’d like. I don’t mind. Secondly, since it's Saturday and we have nothin to do or places to be, how bout we go back inside and cuddle in bed or make breakfast together.”

He went to wrap his arm around you, but you shrug it off and stand up, “I’m really not in the mood Joel. I think I’m going to clean the house. If you are hungry, I picked up fresh eggs at the market yesterday, help yourself.”

Joel quickly gets up to his feet and follows you into the house, “Darlin, the house is already clean. You cleaned it yesterday and the day before. Can you just turn around and talk to me please?”

“There is nothing to talk about Joel! Everything is fine!” You were getting real tired of him bothering you. You were starting to feel like he was smothering you and you couldn’t breathe. “On second thought, I think I’m going to go for a long run. I’ll be back.”

You go to head upstairs to change, but Joel stops you, “Hey wait please! I really think we need to sit down and talk about what’s happened.” He slowly approaches you and gently places his hands on your arms, causing you to finch, “It’s been two weeks. I know you are hurtin, I’m hurtin too.”

Two weeks, has it been really two weeks?, you think to yourself. Time moves differently now, more slowly. The days bled into night and the nights bled into days. You lost all sense of time. You were lucky if you could even remember to feed yourself at this point. Not that it mattered though. It felt like your life was over now. It felt like your will to live ended when you got the news. You couldn’t tell Joel that though. It would make him even more concerned and getting him to leave you alone would even be more difficult than it already was.

“Joel I’m fine really,” You lie, “You don’t need to worry about me, okay. I feel better today than I did yesterday.”

“Then why don't you just talk to me or let me touch you like I want to darlin. Why do you always feel like you need to run from your problems,” he pleads with you. You can see the hurt and pain in his eyes. The pain you caused. 

Fighting back the tears that wanted to leak from your eyes, you shake them away and replace them with the fake smile you mastered, “It’s nothing personal Joel. I’m just really not in the mood. I’m sorry that you are hurting. Maybe you can call that therapist the doctor gave us and set something up if you really wanted too. Lord knows you can really benefit from it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go get ready for my run.

However as you go to push past him, he grabs your arm and pulls you back to him. When you crash into his chest and look up into his eyes, you can see that the sadness has turned into anger. “What the hell does that mean, that I could benefit from it. What is that bullshit?”

You messed up and you know it, but you decided to stand your ground anyways. You were going to die on this hill at this point. “It means that you are always so uptight. You are like a loose canon. Maybe if you spoke to someone about whatever issues you have, you wouldn’t be so angry and annoying all the time.”

That response only makes Joel angrier, “No, no you don’t get to turn this around on me dammit! You knew I was like this when you decided to get with me and date me. Look, I don’t know whatever game you are tryin to pull here is, but it’s not workin. This isn’t healthy. You shut me and everyone else out before you had time to even process everything that has happened. It seems like you do this every time you have a problem. You can’t let everything build up inside of you. You need to let everything out and heal.”

“But then that makes it real Joel!” you shout back. “This isn’t like all the other times. This is way worse. If I let myself go, I may not ever recover. I will have to accept that I am a failure as a person because I couldn’t do the one thing that I was born to do, made to do, and I’m not ready to accept that yet. No, things are better this way trust me. It’s best if we pretend that nothing has happened.”

“Better huh? If that’s what makes you feel better at night darlin. Yes, let’s just pretend nothin has happened. Let’s just spit on the grave of our dead…”

A loud smack fills the air as your hand connects to his cheek, “Don’t you dare say that. That is not what I meant and you know it. Now let me go, I need to go get ready.”

All a stunned Joel can do was watch as you turn and stomp upstairs. You had fought before, but never like this. This was a whole new level. Never once did you let things get this far and resort to violence. 

When you come back downstairs, you find Joel outside by the pool just staring at the water. He has a glass of whiskey in one hand and his other was balled up into a fist. You can also make out the tears that were running down his face as they glistened in the sunlight. This was bad, real bad. All you wanted to do was go out there, take him into your arms and apologize to him. However you did exactly what he called you out on, you ran. You didn’t even bother taking your phone or your keys. You needed to get out of there.

So you run, and run, and run. It feels like you run for miles. You don't even know what time it was when you finally stop at the one place that makes you feel at peace. It was a pond, the pond where you and Joel had your first date, your first kiss, and the first time where you said I love you. Now this may be the pond where everything ends.

Taking a seat on a nearby bench, you stare at the water and the children playing in it, wondering what could have been and what should have been. You think about your future and what would happen now. You don't know how Joel is ever going to forgive you for what you did. You laid your hands on him and you hated yourself for it.

You don't know how long you sat there for, but it was long enough for your lower back to start hurting. As you stand up and start to stretch, you hear someone walking up behind you. “I guess we had the same idea huh darlin,” it was Joel.

“Wha…what are you doing here?”

“I umm…I don’t know. I just drove and ended up here. Do you mind if we sit down?” he asks. You can still hear the emotion, the pain in his voice. “After umm…after you left, I started to drink. After my third glass, I realized that drinking my problems away wasn’t helping. So I got into my car and drove hoping to clear my head. I was also hoping that I would find you or a solution to whatever it is going on between us. I’m really worried about you darlin. I don’t like what is happening to you, to us.”

You look up and you can see the tears forming in his eyes. It wasn’t fair how you were only thinking of yourself. Feeling like only you can feel this way. This was his pain too. He had a right to grieve just as much as you did. It was time to stop being childish and let him in. It was the only way that you were both going to heal. So you hesitantly reach out and take his hand into yours which causes him to look at you in surprise. This was the first time that you actually touched him in two weeks. 

Taking a deep breath, you begin to finally speak what was going on in your crazy mind, “I uhh…I sat here thinking everything, about what could have been. I’ve been doing that a lot lately. I would think about what he or she would have looked like, me or you. I thought about whose eyes they would have, whose personality they would take after, or how it was going to be fun watching them grow. I just…I just…I just miss them so much Joel. It’s not fair!” Finally a week's worth of pent up emotion boiled over and you let everything go. Throwing yourself into his arms and you just cry and cry. 

“I know darlin, it’s not fair. Just let it out,” Joel consoled you, holding you tightly not daring to let you go. “I miss them too, so fucking much,” he cries letting his emotions purge as well. Life was so cruel sometimes and neither of you deserved this. 

“I’m sorry I hit you too. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m such a fucking idiot.”

He pulls you back just enough to take your face into his arms and wipe your tears, “I forgive you. It was an accident. I never should have said what I said too. We both let our emotions get the best of us. But I really do think we need help darlin. We need to see someone. This isn't healthy anymore. Please listen to me, otherwise, otherwise I don't think I can do this anymore.”

You knew it was only a matter of time before your cowardly actions would have consequences, but you would do anything in your power to make it up to him. “I…I will do anything Joel. I can’t lose you too, I just can't,” your cry again. “I’ll call the therapist tomorrow and set everything up. Please just don’t leave me. I don’t think I will survive.”

“I’m not leavin you darlin. As long as we communicate and work things out, we can get through this together. I love you so much, more than you will ever know.”

“I love you too Joel. Can you take me home? I really want to go cuddle in your arms now. If that offer still stands.”

“Yeah I think I can make that happen, but first come here,” he then stands up, pulling you into his arms and into a passionate kiss, which you were very happy to return. It lasts for a while and when you pull apart, there is one more thing that he needs to get off his chest, “I know we need to get past all this first, but I promise you darlin, when you…we’re ready, we can try again. I will give you a baby. We will get the family we always wanted. I’m not saying we can ever replace the one we lost, but…but…”

You place a finger on his lips to stop him, “I know what you meant and I would like that very much, but like you said, when we are ready and when we are healed. We…we will get there right? Will we be okay?”

“Yes darlin, we will be okay. It’s just going to take time. Just promise me you will stop running away and come talk to me, okay.”

“I promise you, baby. Now let’s go home.”

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Part 2 here

Please let me now what you think!

[foxes-that-run]

You are in Love

This song has a new light after Say don’t go, she wanted him to say I love you and he didn’t, she’s searching for signs in silence

The 1989 Liner notes make a poem that tells the story of one single couple, which we all know is Harry Styles and Taylor. In September/October 2014 Taylor did a lot of 1989 media while heart broken minimising the relationship.

Taylor has said 'You are in Love' is about Jack and Lena. Neither Jack, who worked on the song or Lena knew that before this. Where, arms crossed, Taylors talks about crying and said the relationship she wrote 1989 (and it's 81 uses of the word 'love') about was infatuation. After Say Don’t Go, makes sense, she was hanging out for an I love you that seemed to come after the album.

In an Elle Interview she said she had been in love but was disappointed and that happily ever after wasn't real, but would be beautiful and mundane. She said the lyrics were things Lena had told her. (OK, weird chats between Lena and Taylor about burnt toast and the chains Jack doesn't wear.) In her Rolling Stone interview in the same time she sounded sad, RS said jaded:

In summary, like writing Clean in London closing the book (but leaving out that Style was written 2 weeks later) there is some self-preservation in discussing inspiration. It's Taylor's art, sharing vulnerability and her choice how it's presented.

I think this narrative also worked against them in long run, HS wrote Fools Gold about his hurt about it at the time. A lot of fans view that the relationship was less significant to them than their later (very recent) work indicates.

Playing live

You are In Love only made it on the setlist for 28 shows on the 1989 World Tour (at 54 Mins) and not at all on the Rep Tour. It was played at the 4 August 2023 Eras show.

When was it written / Working with Jack

In October 2014 Jack said to the Hollywood Reporter that it was the fourth song they wrote together. Jack's quote calls it "you were in love" I wonder if it was an error or the song was retrospective at one point. We haven't seen original lyrics for it. Jack said they were 5,000 miles apart when they wrote Out of the Woods and referred to a cancelled show in September 15, Taylor was in Cape Town, Australia and NZ in October - November so it was likely then, with YAIL after. Sweeter than Fiction was first mentioned 30 August and released October 2013. So we know it was written between September - November 2013. Taylor likely recorded the vocals in January 2014 when she was in LA. My guess is September 2013 after Harry and Taylor saw each other at the VMAs.

Lyrics

[Verse 1] One look, dark room Meant just for you Time moved too fast, you play it back Buttons on a coat, lighthearted joke No proof, not much, but you saw enough Small talk, he drives Coffee at midnight The light reflects the chain on your neck He says, "Look up" And your shoulders brush No proof, one touch, but you felt enough

The open sounds like remembering a moment, rather than in it, playing it back. This and the line of "Meant just for you" reminds me song Harry wrote for One Direction If I could fly about wishing he was with TS and sharing his vulnerability only with her.

Taking off a coat is also referenced in Style. "The lights are off, he's taking off his coat". This post has photos of You are in Love/haylor

Another Style reference with Coffee at Midnight "Midnight/ You come and pick me up, no headlights”

'No proof, one touch' is one of my favorite lines, it captures wanting to keep a part of their time together just for them and also how strong their connection is.

[Chorus] You can hear it in the silence (Silence), silence (Silence), you You can feel it on the way home (Way home), way home (Way home), you You can see it with the lights out (Lights out), lights out (Lights out) You are in love, true love You are in love

The song is about the feeling that love is something you feel rather than being told. It is silent, private and unseen. The open includes a reference to way home, home being an important concept of safety in HS and TS's songs.

[Verse 2] Morning, his place Burnt toast, Sunday You keep his shirt, he keeps his word And for once, you let go Of your fears and your ghosts One step, not much, but it said enough You kiss on sidewalks You fight and you talk One night, he wakes Strange look on his face Pauses, then says "You're my best friend" And you knew what it was, he is in love

As per Say don’t go, she’s searching for signs of I love you in silence

The mundane aspects of life are romanticized, letting her guard and past worries go. There is a similar idea in New Years Day where cleaning up after a party and in Keep Driving where mundane mornings are romanticized as here. "Maple syrup, coffee / Pancakes for two /Hash brown, egg yolk /I will always love you"

Taylor said she had not experienced being her lovers best friend at that time, to me the best friend line sounds exactly like 18 year old HS.

Taylor has worn a few shirts of Harry's, like the one at the top in the 1989 polaroids and these two. Harry also referred to this in From the Dining Table "I see you gave him my old t-shirt / More of what was once mine" Harry also wrote on Olivia “she’s lying in bed with my tshirt on”

[Bridge] And so it goes You two are dancing in a snow globe, 'round and 'round And he keeps a picture of you in his office downtown And you understand now Why they lost their minds and fought the wars And why I've spent my whole life trying to put it into words

Harry also refers to a picture of Taylor in Sunflower Vol 6 "I've got your face hung up high in the gallery" it is not a literal gallery or office downtown, but a metaphor for showing everyone she is his person.

In Wonderland, Taylor also talks about loosing their minds "And in the end, in Wonderland, we both went mad". On Midnights a romantic struggle is called a war in The Great War. Here she is saying that the relationship was challenging, but the love made it worthwhile.

Taylor uses the imagery of dancing in a snow globe and fishbowl again in the Lover Video, which also references Harry. The imagery is that they are under the microscope, unable to escape being on display but being in that together here and in Lover is beautiful.

[Breakdown] 'Cause you can hear it in the silence You can feel it on the way home You can see it with the lights out You are in love, true love You are in love

Taylor is telling herself it’s love he’s not saying. Before say don’t go this song never had that element to me, but the silence is a bit :( now

The song closes with a warm idea that this love is present away in private quiet moments and that is what makes it a true love.

You are in love had a Taymoji pack: