#of course flagged tumblr this one as well

[nutmeggery]

I need Neil Gaiman to know that Good Omens 2 made me feel emotions I haven't felt in nearly a decade.

When I heard there was going to be a Good Omens 2 I was looking forward to it, of course. I just wasn't expecting it do anything super special to my emotions. I was sure I'd enjoy it, though. I really enjoyed s1.

But, for the last few years, I watched shows and afterwards basically thought well, that was fun, and I quickly moved on and didn't think much about them. There was only about 3 shows in the last 5 years that had made me feel truly emotional and stayed on my mind to the point where I felt like I needed to engage in fandom for a while. (Good Omens 1 was one of them.)

I wasn't spoiled by the leak. I never even knew there was a leak. So I had no idea what was coming in s2. And oh boy...

See, I'd watched Our Flag Means Death, a show where you don't expect the lead characters to kiss, because, well, that never happens in these types of shows, right? And this is important because when they did kiss, it felt like a door that had been locked with just about all the high security locks in the world had suddenly, inexplicably, been opened. Something switched inside me. It took me months to understand what it was, but when I thought about Good Omens before s2 came out, I realized what it was.

I would never truly enjoy a bromance they're-only-queer/in love-by-your-own-interpreation story ever again. Stories where nothing is confirmed, just subtext that anyone who doesn't want to see it can easily deny and mock those who wish it was more.

While it was clear that Crowley and Aziraphale cared a lot about each other in s1, and were probably in love, it was still just a fun ship for fans to play with in fanfiction and fanart. Do they love each other? Oh sure. In what way? Well, that's up to interpretation. Ok, cool. But it's not quite Our Flag Means Death, is it?

Then I watched Good Omens 2. And from episode 1 I saw my favourite Angel and Demon duo love each other. And I was having the best time. I hadn't had such a good time watching a show in a long while. It was not only right up my alley, it was an alley I wasn't even aware was my alley until I saw it. I enjoyed seeing the old characters, the new characters. Oh, I was wonderful.

It was clear to me that, of course Crowley and Aziraphale love each other, are IN love with each other, showing it in their own way. And I wasn't expecting it to be THIS obvious.

And then when the kiss happened, I couldn't believe it. I covered my mouth with both hands and gasped and sat up straight in my seat. I had never expected it--the heartbreak it added to the already heartbreaking scene--it rewired something inside me.

It was like my emotions had been locked up in a stall like a horse for so, so long, and now the gate had been opened, the stable door kicked down, and the horse was running out onto the large pasture into the daylight, bucking and kicking up grass. Oh my god, I have to take a few minutes to process that entire 6 hour marathon of emotions.

And by a few minutes I meant a few days.

More than a few, actually.

I didn't need a kiss to understand how much they loved each other, but I did need the kiss to understand how intense and heartbreaking their separation is for them after everything.

But more than that, the kiss broke a barrier. They really did it, I thought. They really dared.

Aziraphale and Crowley aren't human males, no, but they're played by male actors. And that is significant. That makes the kiss significant. In the world we currently live in.

Weeks later, I'm still obsessed with the show, re-watching s1 and 2, reading the book again, listening to the audio drama. And I'm on tumblr, seeing people's posts and art to somehow sate my hunger for a s3 that doesn't exist (yet).

And I'm having a wonderful time.

[eternalsunrise]

call my bluff.

deadpool (wade wilson) x gn! reader

word count: 2.1k

summary! deadpool and you have an unorthodox dynamic. every time the masked man ends up in your neighborhood, he can’t seem to stay away. you’ve never seen his face or even heard his name, but the two of you are in a game of flirtation with no end in sight. as the tension is raised, both of you wonder, is there something more here?

tags! reader is a regular citizen, talk of reader wearing a skirt but i don’t think i used any pronouns? HEAVILY suggestive but no smut, alcohol mentions, i wrote this with comic deadpool in mind but could easily be ryan’s as well!!

notes! the collective d&w brainrot has caused me to open tumblr and actually complete a fic. hope u love it <3 abs

“taxi!”

the crisp night air nipped at your legs as you stepped off of the sidewalk and onto the edge of the street for the fifth time in the past fifteen minutes. you waved your hands semi erratically, jumping up and down as to try and make yourself take up more space so that the bright yellow vehicle would take notice. instead you watched as it zipped right past you, short term deja vu happening once again.

you threw your arms down in defeat and stared up at the night sky, “fuck!” you sent your frustrations up to the half of a full moon you could see, the other portion blocked by skyscrapers. how is it that this city was known to be crawling with cabs and you couldn’t even flag one of them down? were you on some kind of taxi blacklist?

whatever the reason, you decided that between your horrible luck with public transport and your dead cell phone, you might as well start the trek home.

your body buzzed with the alcohol from the evening; your night out with friends had veered into the early morning hours, and you promised them you’d be able to find your way home. blacklist or not, the city was walkable and you were tired of waiting.

so you crossed your arms over your chest, a half baked attempted at hiding from the chill of the city. you started walking in the direction of your apartment, craving the touch of warm sheets and pillowcases.

after a few minutes of sharing the air with faint car horns and the buzzing of people’s air conditioning units, you heard something else. someone else.

you weren’t naive, the city never sleeps, and there were bound to be people out just like you. however the path you chose was definitely less trafficked, and general paranoia was starting to set in. after all, you’ve been the only person for the past three blocks, only sharing the sidewalk with stray cats.

the thought that someone was behind you forced you to sober up quickly. ice cold blood replacing the warm alcohol that was coursing through your veins.

the footsteps are louder now, matching your heartbeat patting against your rib cage. you wonder why they haven’t walked past you yet. were you being followed? taking a deep breath, you reach into your bag slowly. you retrieve your small weapon of defense, ready to face off a potential threat. whoever it was, they were behind you now. you figured your best bet was fight AND flight. attack and spirit off.

you hear a wolf whistle, deep and slow, right in your ear. it’s now or never.

you whip around and shove your arm toward the nightcrawler (pervert?). you open your mouth to let out a scream and clench your eyes shut. you’re surprised when your voice is muffled by…leather?

“oh cupcake, this is adorable! where’d you get this, amazon?”

you open your eyes and are stunned to lock them with a sea of red and black. your eyes trail upwards, spying artificial whites and a mask you’ve grown familiar with. the original terror you felt starts draining from your body, and is replaced by shock and a strange sense of relief.

deadpool has one of his gloved hands locked around your wrist, long index finger just barely lifting yours off of the trigger of the object in question. a travel sized, hot pink, container of mace.

you open your mouth again to speak but find his other hand muffling your airways, his large palm covering your mouth and tip of your nose. you frantically grasp at his arm with your free hand, yanking it away from your face.

“you know sweet thing, if you wanna walk around this late by yourself, you’ll need something a little more industrial. i actually know a guy if you-“

you take in a giant gulp of air and clutch your chest, trying to slow down your heart rate, “what. the FUCK is wrong with you?” you cut off deadpool’s rambling, staring at his blank eyes.

the merc tilts his head to the side as if he was a confused golden retriever, “really? you wanna trauma dump right now? well…” he clears his throat, voice dropping an octave to portray faux sincerity, “i guess it all started in third grade…”

you groaned and rubbed your face with your free hand, the other still in control by your assaulter, “you could’ve announced yourself, you gave me a heart attack! what are you doing following me anyway?”

deadpool finally releases your hand, his own finding home on his hips, resting right above his two holsters. “well i saw you wandering around like carrie bradshaw. and i may not be your mister, but i was hoping to give you something Big.” he shrugs as if that response was as normal as discussing the weather. you shove your measly can of mace back into your bag.

shaking your head, you turn on your heels, starting to walk away. you plan to continue your trek home, confident that the anti hero would be quick to follow behind. “how hard would it be to just say you want to walk me home?”

you’ve been playing this game of back and forth flirtation for a while now, and you knew that deep…deep…deep down he was masking true concern for you.

deciding not to answer, deadpool took just a few of his large strides to end up by your side. “what are you doing walking alone looking like that anyway? admit it! you were hoping i’d show up.”

you look at him with glassy eyes. now that your guard was fully down, you started to feel the effects of those three tequila shots you took as a send off to your friends. maybe those weren’t such a good idea. the way you’re looking up at him make’s deadpool’s wade’s stomach turn, and he has to clench his fists to control himself.

suddenly he’s forgotten why he was on this side of town in the first place.

you let out a laugh full of teeth, “oh you wish! i haven’t seen you in a few days though, had to go out to fill my needs elsewhere.”

what you two have has never went beyond casual flirtation, but the idea of you being under someone else sparks a match of jealously. but wade knows better. and he knows that slight stumble as you walk, your hands pulling the skirt of your outfit down.

deadpool hisses as if you’ve hit a nerve, “ouch baby, i didn’t think i’d be third wheeling with you and jose cuervo tonight.” he spots a car driving toward the two of you and acts quickly; he places a gloved hand on your waist and moves you away from the sidewalk. he doesn’t miss a beat, you don’t even realize you’ve switched places.

you’re looking back up at him again as you walk, this time reaching up and tapping the handle of one of his sheathed katanas, “what about you killer? you been thinkin’ about me?” you’re teasing him, but a small part of you hopes he’ll give you a genuine answer that aligns with what you want to hear.

his mask creases as he raises his eyebrows and you can’t see but wade is giving you a smirk that sits on the side of his mouth, “oh you know it sweet thing. every time i’ve slid one of these bad boys in and out of a bad guy, it reminds me of what we could have.”

deadpool lets out a dramatic sigh, reminiscing on something that hasn’t even happened, “but their screams usually ruin my hard on, i think your’s would have the opposite effect.”

so much for your genuine answer.

you blame the red on your cheeks and buzzing feeling on the alcohol, pushing the thought of the real cause into a box and storing it in the back of your mind. how embarrassing to feel this way about a masked weirdo that sometimes strolls through your neighborhood. you didn’t even know his real name. hell, you’ve never seen his face!

after a little more walking and a lot more sexual tension, the two of you arrive in front of your apartment building. you turn to face your escort for the evening, flashing him a grin full of drunken glee, “well this is my stop, thank you for the company mr. pool. i’ll have to repay you somehow.” your tone teasing but borderline suggestive.

deadpool nods and taps his chin a few times, “you’re right cupcake….since you’re offering…” he trails off, his voice growing deeper as he bent down to be eye level with you. your throat hitched, a gasp getting stuck there, not expecting him to call your bluff. “i take payments in the form of cash, debit, or check!”

he taps the tip of your nose and shoots back, standing up straight.

oh right! no way this guy would ever actually take you up on your banter! and that was a good thing…right? you decided to end the night now, preventing your drunken state from dragging a masked man into your home.

you rolled your eyes and braced your hand on his broad shoulder, stepping on the tip of your toes and placing a kiss on the side of his mask, the textured material tickling your lips. “goodnight handsome.”

you leaned away from him but trailed your hand down to rest on his chest. hey! the tequila was making you brave.

deadpool, no wade—deadpool—no! wade felt like he was about to fall backwards like a cartoon cat after getting hit with a sledgehammer. it had been a long time since his suit had experienced anything that gentle, he felt this was about to go down a dangerous path.

wade stared down at you through white lenses, his gaze bouncing between your hand and your lips. back and forth like a game of table tennis.

he watched as you bit your lip and held his gaze. your cheeks flushed, eyes glossy, the street lights illuminated your face in a way he’s never seen before. he wonders if potential onlookers could see small hearts surrounding his head.

wade feels a thought go through him, as if it swept in on the early morning breeze. a thought that he felt insane (shocker) for having even for a moment.

standing there with you, he wants to be himself. he has the urge to be vulnerable; rip his mask off and be wade wilson with you. for you. in this moment he wants to be more than the merc that flirts with you. wade wants to be with you. he wants…..fuck he wants to take you inside and make sure your body leaves an imprint in the mattress that’ll be there for weeks. stop looking at him like that, his pants are getting tight.

and there’s deadpool. he imagines tiny versions of himself stabbing katanas into the hearts around his head. they let out sad whines as they deflate and fall onto the sidewalk below him. he needs to get a grip.

“sweet dreams angel face. oh! if you need me throughout the night, just scream out of your bedroom window! screams of damsels in distress are like my mating call.”

you retract your hand with a giggle that makes that stupid thought come back into deadpool’s head.

you hesitate. wanting to say something but…deciding best not to. you turn around and walk up the stairs to your door, ignoring the fire in your stomach that’s been growing after each flirtatious jab.

you hear him start to speak as soon as you put your key into the lock, and you turn around almost too eagerly. you want him to say what you’ve been wanting, craving to hear. you want him to enable that dark part of you; the part of you that wants more of him. the part of you that knows he’s wrong. that he’s got to be walking danger.

deadpool points at himself, “but babe, if you see a way less sexy guy in a suit responding to your call. one that has ugly little spider webs all over him? slam the window shut. you want nothing to do with that guy, trust me.”

your shoulders drop, an exhale released. you give him one last shake of your head, and a barely there smile, before you’re inside your home. the bubble that surrounded the two of you bursted.

the door shuts behind you but the masked man stays in place. he stares at the spot where you were just standing, thinking about all the other routes this night could’ve taken. he isn’t right for you. he should leave you alone. wade knows that. too bad deadpool’s never been a good listener.

[orcboxer]

It's kind of interesting how activism online has been rebranded as an individualist thing, as if it's about your personal moral character. "Post about X and signal boost Y or you don't really care!!" Anything fun or good that happens is a Distraction, the real focus always needs to be on all the bad things happening, you need to always be angry and afraid.

Like of course all these issues matter, but activism only really works when it's an organized group effort. Awareness campaigns are planned and funded, somebody has to print out all the flyers, somebody has to find a strategic place to distribute the flyers, and so forth. Not everyone does every part of the work, and nobody is on call 24/7. Posting more political content on your personal social media accounts is generally not one of the tactics used, because it's not really effective? Like at all?

In fact one of the biggest red flags for clickbait is when someone is trying to make you angry or afraid. People with basic social media literacy know this, and will distrust posts that resemble clickbait. This is why guilt trip additions to posts are largely seen as post-ruiners. You done poisoned the well.

This isn't all to say that posting about politics is bad, but keep in mind how much energy you're spending on it, and allow yourself time to not be political, because like, okay imagine the most popular tumblr blog. How much impact does that blog actually have on politics irl? Virtually none. So if you're stressing yourself to the point of fatigue over posting politics, maybe consider more effective forms of activism. Volunteer locally, join a union, attend protests, vote, etc. All of those are vastly more efficient uses of your energy. Post politics if you want to, but just don't tire yourself out over it. It'll work better as an organized group effort.

[bg-brainrot]

Unraveling Plan Meet Immeasurable Insecurity (Astarion x GN!Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Rating: Teen

Summary: Tav tries their damnedest to propose, only to be rebuffed by Astarion at every single turn.

Tags: Astarion POV - alternating w/Rogue!Tav, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Spawn Astarion, Post-Canon, Marriage Proposal, Mild Hurt/Comfort, insecurities

A/N: based on a request from a kind anon on Tumblr– "Would you ever consider writing a one-shot where Tav tries to propose to Astarion but keeps failing multiple times. But Tav doesn’t give up and raises the stakes higher and higher. Astarion will completely remain oblivious because he still has some self esteem issues (why would anyone want to marry him?) and is really confused why Tav is acting nervous around him."

I ended up taking it in a slightly different direction (based on the man’s self esteem issues as you pointed out, anon). Set an undetermined amount of years post BG3, post saving Karlach from Zariel, post-Lae’zel finishing the githyanki uprising so the gang's all here. I hope the kind anon still enjoys it!

Word count: ~5.6k

Astarion first has an inkling that something is the matter when you sneak away from him.

Odd, he thinks, watching your retreating back. Usually they invite me along for this sort of skulking about.

But he understands, better than most, what a bit of privacy could afford someone who hasn’t had any in so long. So he watches you leave, pretending all the while that he hasn’t noticed a thing. Best not embarrass them, of course.

He brushes off the incident as an anomaly– after all, you continue to be your usual self upon your return. Neither of you speak of your absence, and you seem rather pleased with yourself, so he is pleased for you.

The next time he notices something is off he grows a tad more worried.

This time you don’t disappear, but you do spend a concerning amount of time staring at his hands, expression pensive.

“Darling,” he starts. He quickly tucks his hands under the Elfsong table that you both sit at and leans forward. “What are you doing?”

You blanch at the question– an uncharacteristic reaction to be sure. “Oh,” you sound startled, as if you’ve been caught doing something quite naughty. “Nothing at all. Just wondering if you’d done anything new with your nails? They look… nice.”

It’s a lie, that much is clear to Astarion. But it’s not typical that you lie so poorly. And why should you lie? No matter, you look flustered and gods does he love it when you look flustered– it happens so rarely that he feels the need to truly relish it. “Don’t they?” he asks, flourishing his hands in front of you now. “How did you know? I dipped them in an essence of ooze to thoroughly moisturize them.”

“Really?” Your bewilderment almost brings a laugh out of him.

“Gods no, my dear,” he says, reaching out from under the table and for your hands. “You seem quite out of sorts. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you dismiss, staunchly avoiding eye contact with him.

Odd, he thinks again. Where is their usual daring now?

He’s forced to dismiss the thought as you flag down a waitress, ordering yourselves another bottle of wine.

Astarion becomes genuinely concerned when you return home late one night.

The two of you have grown comfortable together in your house, just on the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate, in a cozy corner of Rivington. The location allows you to continue your work with the guild, gives him plentiful access to any criminals that needed exsanguinating, and your former companions are never far.

It does mean that you will sometimes stay late in the city, working well into the sunlight hours– but you also know to send him a message on the days you stay out late. Otherwise your poor, beautiful vampire will waste away in worry.

“Where in the nine hells are they?” Astarion curses aloud on this particular dawning day. He’d tried sending a message to you, only to receive nothing back. He’d sent another to Shadowheart, again to silence. He considers trying someone less responsible like Karlach, when you finally burst through the front door.

“Oh! Astarion,” you say, surprise plain on your face. As if he wouldn’t be here, in your shared home no less, waiting for your arrival. “What are you still doing up?”

He watches you silently for a moment as you tuck something behind your back, straighten out uncomfortably. Then, with all of the annoyance he can muster, he rolls his eyes at you. “It’s lovely to see you too, my dear. It’s not as if I was worrying my gorgeous head off at the thought of you dead in some rank Baldurian gutter.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, shuffling around the room in a rather suspicious manner. “I lost track of time. I figured you would go to bed without me.”

Astarion can’t remember the last time he went to bed without at least knowing where you were. Even if he could, he suspects he really would rather not. “Darling, you know I need my warm-blooded lover by my side to enter my reverie. Besides, what could have possibly taken you so long?”

You hesitate, and something tugs at Astarion’s insides. He feels a sudden sense of fear, a dread that he may regret asking you this question. 

What if you’re upset at him, and this was your way to maintain space? What if you’ve finally, rationally taken a look at your situation and determined that no, you’d really rather not love a monster like himself? Or worse, what if you’d found someone else, someone who could bask in the daylight alongside you? Gods, the idea sends his undead heart plummeting.

Just as you’re about to open your mouth to answer, he rescinds his question, “Nevermind. I don’t want to know. I merely wanted to make sure you were alive. You’re looking as sprightly as ever, so I shall head to bed.”

He doesn’t wait for your response, heading to bed in a dramatic swirl and even more sensational thoughts. 

He’s right, he knows it to his core. You’ve found someone else, someone who can give you the life he never could. More than anything he wishes he had the courage to confront you, especially as all of your odd behavior clicks into place.

They snuck off to find a lover.

They were staring at my hands in the hopes that they were someone else’s.

They stayed out late to relish in another’s company.

They’re aloof because they’re leaving me and it’s all a matter of time.

It’s as plain as day. How could he have been so very, very blind?

__

You had concocted a nice, simple plan.

It involved a ring, a smattering of your closest friends, and a particularly prickly vampire. Ideally, the plan ended with the vampire agreeing to marry you.

Gods. The idea thrills you as much as it scares you: you are actually going to propose to Astarion.

After years together, you and Astarion are practically already married. This is merely a formality in your mind. But of course, for a man like Astarion, it's a formality that means only the utmost effort must be put in.

But, as it always goes in your life, your nice, simple fell apart.

The problem you're finding is that, after weeks of preparation and secretive planning, the man is being oddly distant. Distant and dismissive. It's almost as if he knows something is afoot, and he's utterly determined to make sure it doesn't happen.

Five times now he has thwarted your attempts at a proposal.

"Astarion," you had started the first time. "Would you like to take a walk in the park with me tonight?”

The look he’d given you was equal parts wary and panicked. So much so that you thought maybe you’d misspoken. But his response was measured enough. “No, thank you, darling. I’m afraid I’m quite spent today.” He gave you a yawn to illustrate his point, and you dropped the subject for the night.

You had had to send a message to Shadowheart to call off the trail of poisonous flowers that your friends were laying out for your stroll.

The next time, you had tried being a bit more casual in your attempt.

“Would you enjoy a day at the spa, Astarion?”

Again, he gave you a look that confused you. Frightened face, hackles raised– his only response was, “Why, darling, do I look that ghastly to you?”

“You know that’s not what I–”

“No matter,” he’d waved you off. “I am afraid I’m busy today.”

You’d sent a message to Karlach, telling her that the reservation of Baldur’s Gate’s spa was no longer needed.

The third time, you’d called in some more magical help.

“Astarion, what do you say to a moonlit picnic atop the roof of the Elfsong? We haven’t had one in a while.”

Appalled– utterly and truly aghast is the only way to describe the face he’d made. The words that followed didn't make you feel better either. “And why would we do that again after such a long while?”

Your stomach had roiled, worry settling in at his tone. “I thought it would be a chance to reminisce together.” Your tone stayed light, your smile just as friendly.

“It’s far too cold to bother with reminiscing,” he’d said, glowering at you. Looking at the hard set of his jaw, this is when you’d begun to worry that you’d done something to upset him.

“Is everything alright?” you’d asked, reaching out for his arm.

“It’s fine,” he’d replied, curtly, retreating from your grasp. “I just don’t want to be colder than I already am.”

You’d sent a message to Gale, instructing him to call off the magical skywriting over the Elfsong.

For your fourth attempt, you knew you needed someone with a slightly more forceful personality– and to perhaps lean a little less romantic.

“Astarion,” you’d begun, inflecting your tone with just the right amount of panic. “Lae’zel’s found a flock of mephits along the beach of Wyrm’s Crossing. She needs our help.”

“Mephits?” he’d asked, looking at you cautiously. “In Wyrm’s Crossing?”

“Yes,” you’d replied, nodding hurriedly. “We need to go now.”

He’d clicked his tongue at you and shaken his head. “As if Lae’zel couldn’t crush them all with a single swing. Seems to me like she’s grown lazy after all of her heroics.”

“Astarion,” you’d chided. “You know she will incredibly cross at us if she finds out you declined to help.”

“I’ll survive,” he’d said, returning to the book on his lap, hands turning paler than usual in a tense vice grip. “Probably.”

After, you’d sent a message to Lae’zel, instructing her to do as she pleased with the stash of fireworks on the beach.

The fifth time you’d grown genuinely, truly worried that something was wrong with Astarion because, by the gods, the man had refused to commit crime with you.

After so many failed attempts, you’d figured that you needed to go back to the roots of your relationship– to a simpler time when petty theft gave you some time alone together.

“I heard a rumor through the guild,” you’d said offhandedly over dinner. “A newly minted noble in the Upper City has quite the horde of wealth and very little security. What do you say that we pay them a visit, perhaps ‘relieve’ them of some of their wealth?”

Astarion had faltered, clearly tempted by your offer. But after nearly two weeks of avoiding going anywhere with you, he didn’t outright agree either. “And why would you need me for this particular job?”

The question had taken you aback. You’d never needed a reason to invite him along for crime of all things. It made you near certain that he knew what you were up to and that something about it was distasteful to him. Sweet hells, it made you nervous. “I, erm… well, I could use an extra pair of hands to carry it all, I suppose?”

“I could lend you my pack then,” he’d said, narrowing his eyes at you.

Why is he trying to avoid me? Have his feelings changed? you’d thought in fear. Aloud, you’d only doubled down. “Well, the company might be nice. And you know that your lockpicking is, somehow, better than mine.”

“I thought you said security was sparse,” he’d countered.

“Sparse doesn’t mean nonexistent.”

“Not much of a challenge then, is it?”

You had wanted to scream into the astral plane. Wanted to flip the table over his pretty pale face. Wanted to tell him, ‘You know what, I didn’t want to marry such a stubborn vampire anyway!’ – but you did none of those things. Because you love this man and, even when he’s being difficult, you do want to marry him.

So you had gritted your teeth and said, “Very well then. I shall borrow your pack.”

You’d sent a message to Wyll later to call off his father’s help with the upper city guards.

For your sixth attempt, you decide you first need to reconvene with your council– also known as your former companions. 

When you’d first met with them at the start of this whole ordeal, you’d snuck away from Astarion. It made you feel a bit guilty, sneaking around, hiding things from him, but the entire proposal was meant to be a fun surprise– one you are starting to suspect is a misguided effort. 

You profess as much aloud now that you’re meeting up with the five of them again, seated around the table in Jaheira’s kitchen. “Maybe there is no sixth attempt. Maybe I’ve overestimated the love between us.”

“Don’t say that,” Wyll says, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, squeezing softly in reassurance. “Your love is strong. And together we will find a way to make this proposal work.”

You smile up at the man, one always so willing to believe in the power of a good love story. You’re almost sorry to be disappointing him– and the smut peddlers. Really, you’re sorry to be disappointing all of your friends. Each of your companions had been eager to help you in your endeavor, in their own ways, of course.

Gale had congratulated you prematurely at first, misunderstanding your Sending spell. But when you’d clarified, asked him for his help, he’d only been incredibly enthused, arriving the very next day, offering all manner of suggestions.

Karlach, for her part, was only ever excited, practically bouncing off the walls that two of her best mates may potentially tie the knot. At the low, low price of allowing her to be your person of honor, she was entirely at your disposal.

Lae’zel had been confused initially. In her mind, you were already committed to a life together. What was the purpose of this… proposal? Of marriage? But when you’d explained to her a bit, she’d been curious– and excited at the potential of catching Astarion off guard.

Shadowheart had seemed surprised when you’d asked. You weren’t already married? Alas, she’d gotten the plot of one of the many bawdy novels about you confused with real life. No matter, she was happy to help.

And, well, Wyll– when he returned from Avernus he’d been disappointed that you weren’t at the very least engaged yet. It was no shock or awe to him when you visited him for help. In fact, he had only given you a wry smile and said, “I knew you would be the one to cave.”

As for Jaheira, well, she was allowing you to use her house as a headquarters, but had proclaimed early, “Invite me to the wedding and I shall be there, but until then– well, this is for you lot to figure out.”

And gods were you having trouble figuring it out.

“I don’t know, Wyll. I’m worried Astarion may never revert back to normal at this rate,” you say, shaking your head.

“Was he ever normal?” Shadowheart asks with a soft snort. “Besides, he can be awfully dense at times, you may just need to ask him outright.”

“There is not a single realm in which Astarion says yes to a simple proposal,” you say, brows furrowing. “You know he’d want something flashy.”

Gale raises a finger sagely before countering, “Well, my friend, sometimes what we want and what we need are two different things. I’m inclined to agree that you may just need to pop the question.”

“What if…” you trail off, your worries from the past weeks bogging down your thoughts. Somehow, despite everything you’ve been through, this seems to be your toughest challenge yet. “Do you think he knows what I’m doing and is simply too afraid to reject me?” you ask the group, turning to each of them with pleading eyes. You’re honestly not sure you can take his rejection, especially after the last five rebuffs.

“Not a chance in the hells,” Karlach answers. “I think he’s being a right idiot, actually. And if he knew what was happening, he may even say yes before you can so much as get the question out.”

“Really?” Your mood lightens a bit, her harsh words slashing through the hardened doubts that have settled over your heart. 

“Is it any surprise to us that Astarion is incapable of seeing the truth before him?” Lae’zel says, rolling her eyes. “Such sharp skills, yet completely dull in the face of our efforts.”

“Again, we may just need a softer touch,” Shadowheart suggests, tilting her head at you.

You’re not sure what a softer touch might be, and, from the silence that follows, neither are any of your companions.

Your resident wizard is the first to break the silence. “I could always create a simulacra–”

“Gale,” Wyll interjects, politely. “I’m afraid I don’t think that’s much softer.”

“Right,” Gale says, leaning back in his seat.

Another long moment of silence and you’re truly starting to feel defeated. You hang your head a bit, thoughts filled with the image of a certain beautiful, pale elf’s mouth curling at you in distaste, forming a pronounced ‘no.’

“Soldier,” Karlach starts. You look up to see her smirking at you. “If he won’t willingly join you anywhere. I think we both know what you need to do.”

–

They are going to sink the final nail in the metaphorical coffin.

For nearly two weeks now, Astarion has successfully avoided his lover’s attempts to get together in a public space– likely what they saw was the best, most civil way to dispose of him. But, foolish as it is to cling to something like a withered love, Astarion doesn’t want this relationship to end.

Perhaps, if I can do this for long enough, they will change their mind, he thinks. Gods, that sounds pathetic, even for him.

Astarion was running out of excuses, and, worse yet, running out of willpower. What is the use in fighting the inevitable? he thinks, as he walks down the streets of Baldur’s Gate. It’s a moonlit night, and he’s on the prowl for a criminal to bite– he needs something, anything to distract him from his woes.

He turns the corner, on high alert.

Then again, a more selfish part of him counters. Why shouldn't you fight for your love? They were the first good thing to ever happen to you in this damned world.

That’s when he spots them– the-first-good-thing-to-ever-happen-to-him is hiding behind a bush directly before him, facing another alleyway. There are very few reasons that they would be out at this time of night, in the middle of this particular street of Baldur’s Gate. While they could be on a mission for the guild, he had last seen them at home, reading by the fire. It’s clear that they followed him, are waiting to ambush him.

Is this it? he thinks, eyes narrowing. His chest hurts, more than ought to be possible given his lack of beating heart. Is this how desperate they are to be rid of me? May as well go out with flair, I suppose…

Astarion sneaks forward, careful to remain outside of your field of view. He settles behind you in the darkness of the bush, watching you as you look out for him. Despite the ache in his heart, the clenching of his stomach, he can’t help but think of how lovely you look under the moonlight– of how lucky he has been to have had you.

If this truly is it, he thinks. I can’t wallow or cry. I shall hold my head high and consider myself fortunate to have met them. To have loved them. At least, he hopes he’s capable of such a performance. Because right now, quietly crouched next to you, he wants nothing more than to pull you into his arms, to beg you to reconsider.

But no. He refuses to look pathetic– not after the life he has lived.

So, after waiting with you for a few minutes, he leans forward into your personal space and asks, “Darling, what are you doing?”

Astarion is ready for your instincts to kick in, so when your knife is drawn in a flash and you’re lunging for him, he’s easily dodging backward, holding his hands up in peace. “Now, now darling, I thought we were past the knives at throats.”

“Astarion?” you ask, startled. “Sweet hells, you haven’t snuck up on me like that in years.”

“Yes, well,” he says, avoiding your eyes now. He’s surprised by how much gazing into them has weakened his composure already. “You also haven’t looked so utterly distracted by your own thoughts in years either.”

“What are you doing here?” you ask, ignoring his words. “I thought…”

Yes, dear, what did you think? he wants to ask, to catch you in the act with a cruel moment of revelation, to hurt you as much as you’re about to hurt him. But when he brings his eyes back to yours, he knows he can’t do that. While he’s still capable of maiming, killing, all manner of atrocities– he cannot hurt you. So he only says, “I was out hunting and I saw you hiding in a bush. What are you doing here?”

“I–” you falter, seemingly torn. Perhaps you’re having second thoughts. Perhaps this is his chance to keep you from breaking his cold, crumbling heart.

“Do you need assistance, dear?” he asks, ready and willing to show how much he would do for you. Anything, honestly, if it means you’ll stay by his side.

“Gods, I keep mucking this all up,” you mutter, head hanging in uncharacteristic defeat. “Maybe Shadowheart was right.”

What did that damned cleric do now? Is she the one you’re leaving him for? He’s about to make a reflexive, snide comment about her veritable barnyard of animals, but stops when he sees you sheath your blade. When you wipe a hand over your face in frustration.

Oh. You’re miserable. You wouldn’t look like this normally. You would never be this nervous, this stressed to see him– not unless his very presence had turned toxic. “I should go, shouldn’t I?” he asks, throat tight.

“No!” you say, reaching out a hand to keep him from leaving. Your grip is tight, painful in its panic, but he doesn’t complain. How could he when you look like this? 

More than anything, he wants this worry that lines your face to fade, the jittery movement of your hands to abate. So maybe it’s up to him to spark the beginning of the end… “Did you… have something you wanted to tell me?” he asks, swallowing down the fear that threatens to overwhelm him.

“I…” you gulp, bringing your second hand to join the first, loosening your grip. You raise your head, and he sees the tumult in your gaze. At the very least, you must care about him somewhat to stress yourself this much. “Astarion, please don’t be upset.”

How could he not? But, somehow, he manages a sad smile at you anyway. “As if I could ever be upset with you, my love.”

Then you drop to a knee in front of him.

– 

“Astarion,” you say, voice shaking a bit with nerves. “I had wanted this to be something lovely. Something meaningful. But… I guess you love ruining plans, don’t you?”

“What,” he breathes out, confusion plain on his face. His red eyes dart between yours, as if trying to process a sudden, large shift. You suppose it would be a shift in your relationship, even if you were practically married already. If he even decided to say yes.

You release his arm with one hand, reaching into your side pouch for the small square box that’s waiting for you. Fingers less dexterous than usual, you fumble over clutching it, opening it single handedly. You’re not used to looking this foolish, and you can feel a heat over your cheeks, an anxious shake to your movements.

But before too long the box is open, a shining platinum band resting inside.

It looks like everything you’d hoped for in the moment– its inlaid red rubies catch the moonlight just beautifully. You’d spent weeks agonizing, wondering if you had picked the right one, imagining what it might look like were it to be placed on his perfect pale finger. Here and now, with this man standing before you, you know it would look exquisite.

“Astarion,” you start again, courage returning to you with that knowledge, some of the words you’d prepared coming back to your mind. “These past years together have been the best years of my life. You’re my best friend, my dual blade, and I love you more than I can even say. I don’t know what our future holds, but I would consider myself lucky to walk towards it with you at my side. So…” You pull the ring from the box, holding it up to the man you love with a smile. “Would you, Astarion Ancunín, do me the honor of marrying me?”

Astarion Ancunín, despite years of quick quips and sultry words, seems to be frozen in place, unable to speak.

You’re used to these moments, when he needs to process, but you’re not used to them when you’re on one knee, waiting for a response. “Astarion?” you hazard.

“You’re…” he says, face slack, mouth barely moving. “You’re proposing to me?”

It’s not a no, but it’s certainly not the reaction you’d be hoping for. “Erm, yes. Is that… distasteful to you?” You can feel your hand recoil somewhat, your smile slip.

His expression remains blank, lips slightly agape as he continues to take in the scene before him. “You– you don’t have a new lover? You’re not planning to leave me?”

“What?” Now it’s your turn to be flabbergasted. “Astarion, what are you talking about?”

The sigh that leaves him then could collapse a small house. “Sweet hells,” he says, face and body relaxing. “I thought… I thought that you were acting odd, like– like–”

“Like I was trying to surprise you with the magnificent proposal you deserve?” you respond, suddenly understanding his behavior and growing a smidge annoyed. “Like I didn’t want to propose to you behind some damned bushes?”

Astarion looks around, as if just now realizing where you are, what is happening. “Yes, now that you mention it, like that.”

You want to be upset, but then the man above you laughs. It’s light, breathy, and utterly relieved. “You were really worried, weren’t you?”

“Oh my sweet love, I was about ready to jump into an Oubliette,” he says, shaking his head ruefully.

“You thought I would leave you, just like that?” you ask, brows furrowing in concern. Maybe you should have just proposed in your living room.

“I wouldn’t blame you,” he says, looking down at you with a tinge of sadness in his smile. “I doubt that this was the life you were looking for, darling. As a matter of fact, are you… sure about this?” He eyes the ring in your hand, all but forgotten in his confusion.

You proffer it again, raising your hand a bit higher this time. “The only life I’m looking for is the one with you in it, Astarion. I am quite sure.”

His scarlet eyes dart between yours questioningly, and you merely stare back, staunch in your words and intent. “Even if I’m a fool that forced your hand– left you kneeling in the dirt?”

“We’ve done worse things on dirt, Astarion,” you say, smiling widening at the memory of the first time he’d told you he loved you. “If you’d like me to get out of the dirt though, you could answer my question: Would you marry me?”

__

Once more, he looks between your eyes, this time his are wide, open– daring to believe that his darkest fears are just that. Fears. Ones that you would vanquish without a second thought. How could he have been so blind to that. Moisture pools at the corner of his eyes at the realization.

So he drops to his knees, reaching for your face with his hands. In a single movement, he’s pulled you toward him, captured your lips with his with an undeniable longing. A longing to hold you in his hands for as long as he is able. A longing to taste your lips on his, each and every day. A longing to never be without you, to be yours until death do you part.

You respond to his kiss in kind, lips pressing against him with your own pent up longing. He distantly hears the ring’s box fall to the floor, feels your hand brush past his ear to clutch his hair. You kiss him like he’s the answer to every question you’ve ever had and he feels a small tear run down his face as his eyes squeeze tightly shut.

Gods he would never tire of kissing you.

I ought to respond, he thinks in the back of his head, as he moves his lips against yours.

Is this not response enough? he argues, not wanting to break apart from you, for even a moment.

No, it wouldn’t do to have any confusion, not after the past two weeks.

So, before he can forget himself, he pulls back from you, far enough to look into your eyes. “That was a ‘yes’ in case that wasn’t evident.”

You laugh, short and breathless. “Oh good,” you say, leaning back further and bringing up the ring between you. “Then may I?”

Astarion removes his left hand from your face, holds it out to you with a large, gleeful smile. “You may.”

You slip the ring onto his finger. It fits well, matches his eyes, looks positively sumptuous– as always, you know him too well. “It’s stunning,” he says, angling it one way then another.

“I’m glad you like it,” you say, smiling at the sight. “And that you didn’t catch me when I tried to sneak it past you.”

The vampire laughs, shaking his head free of his own silly thoughts. “I smashed your plans into tiny little pieces, didn’t I?”

You don’t say yes, but the look on your face is evidence enough. “I’ll tell you all about what you missed out on later. For now, we should, erm, go get our friends.”

“Go get our friends?” he asks, wondering what in the hells they have to do with all of this.

“Yes,” you say, planting a kiss on his hand before moving to get up. “They’re all in place for another one of these ill fated plans.”

“Ah,” he says, following you up. Then, realizing what you’ve said, he looks at you with concern. “Just what were you in this bush for?”

To your credit, you look abashed. But your words do nothing to lessen his concern. “Seeing as you were refusing to come with me, well, anywhere, we had to pivot our strategy.”

“Darling,” he starts, his tone a deceptive sweetness. “Whatever does that mean?”

“It was Karlach’s plan,” you say, as a means of explanation.

“Oh good. I’m sure whatever it was was perfectly sane then.”

Scratching at the back of your neck, you finally admit the plan, “I was going to give them a signal when you passed. Gale was going to make an illusory double of me getting kidnapped by the rest of them in disguise, then hopefully you would take chase to go save me, they would lose you just as you got to the Elfsong where I would be waiting…”

Astarion looks at you sharply, his mouth a disapproving line. “Really?”

“In retrospect, I can see the flaws in the plan,” you say, palms open. “But in my defense, I was getting desperate. Either way, we ought to go get them. Karlach seemed just about ready to explode from hiding that long.”

“Fine,” he says reluctantly. “This is what we get for having such imbeciles for friends.”

“Funny,” you start, holding out a hand to him. “They said the same about you.”

He takes your hand with an exaggerated eye roll, but can’t help the smile that comes over his face at the feeling of your fingers twining with his. “It’s a shame you had to resort to them for help.”

“I really needed it. You know, I have killed more people than I can count, but you have been my most challenging mark by far,” you say, dramatically as you begin to walk down the alleyway.

“Worse than the giant, world-ending brain?”

“Oh yes.”

The two of you walk in silence for a few steps before Astarion feels compelled to say one last thing before reaching your friends. “Darling, I truly am sorry I ruined all of your plans, but I must ask: Please don’t try to surprise me like this again.”

The expression on your face deflates a little, and you say, “I thought you would like something grand?”

He brings your hand up to his lips for a soft, reassuring peck. “Normally, yes. But, I love you so very much. I’m afraid it clouds my usually impeccable judgment.”

You don’t comment on his judgment, instead focusing on his proclamation of love. “I love you too. So, hopefully, there isn’t a second proposal.”

“One can only hope,” Astarion says with a laugh. “And, if there is, perhaps it’s my turn to do the proposing?”

“Love, if you surprise me, I may kill you,” you say, plainly.

“A risk I’ve always been willing to take, my dear,” the man replies, pulling on your hand. “Now, come. I think I can spot Wyll’s peeking eye from here.”

Hand-in-hand, the two of you walk toward your waiting friends, ready to tell them the good news.

It wasn’t the grand proposal you had envisioned. Nor was it even a particularly romantic one. But, somehow, it was still perfect, still loving, still the beautiful new beginning to the rest of your lives together.

[immortalmrwavell]

Mr Wavell Is Back!!

Getting Terminated, My Brand New Account and How Things Will Be Moving Forwards. If you were a fan of my content please stick around and read what I’ve got to say ❤️

So as some of you may have already noticed, my original account MrWavellSwaps was terminated. This was very recent so a lot of you who followed me on there may not have even noticed yet but you can go see for yourselves. Obviously this was not my choice and was completely out of my control and when I found out I was frustrated to say the least. This account that I’d worked on for over 3 years had just been snatched away from me in a way that I personally feel was unfair. Initially I had been censored back in July this year for posting content that Tumblr believed to be against their guidelines. Or at least their automated bots thought so as what I posted that got me the censor was in a grey area at most. But despite that I tried to do right by correcting and even deleting any and all posts Tumblr had flagged even if I didn’t believe they were against guidelines just to play nice. Following which I appealed my account’s censorship only to be met with silence for months on end. That is until September 3rd where I chased up the appeal for the third time after receiving no response or updates. I was hoping to receive a turnover on the censorship but was expecting them to just say no and keep it censored. But they did the one thing I didn’t except

The email I got the next morning could be summed up like this. “You want a response? Okay. You’re terminated. Goodbye.” And I was. I tried going on Tumblr and my account was gone. Great.

I’ll be honest in the past I would’ve said that if something like this ever happened that I’d just give up with writing these stories and move on. But I don’t feel that way anymore. I think I’ve just grown so fond of this community and writing as a whole that I just don’t really want to leave yet. I’ve met so many friends through being a writer on here and even more than that I met my Boyfriend! I never could’ve expected that writing these silly gay TF stories would change my life in the ways that it has. And that said I think I’d be doing a disservice to just give up and throw it all away.

So here I am. Back again with a fresh new account.

Where am I gonna go from here you may ask. Well of course I have a large catalogue of stories already from the past couple of years and the majority of those stories are actually still floating around Tumblr thanks to all the reblogs. So it’s not like they’re gone forever which I’m glad about. However with my old account gone it feels like they’re all scattered apart. No longer together in one place. And most importantly they no longer feel like mine. Of course I still wrote them all but with this new account I no longer have any control or ownership over those posts and honestly that annoys me. Not to mention with them all coming from my terminated account, there will always be the chance that they’ll just end up getting completely wiped from the platform eventually, reblogs included.

With that said, I’ve made the decision to re-upload each and every single one of my stories to this brand new account. This way I’ll have complete ownership of these new posts. I’ll be able to edit and change them as wish and overall I believe it would just look a whole lot cleaner than if I were to just hunt down reblogs of my old stories to reblog again over here. However I genuinely see that as a positive as not only will it be better for me that way but it can also give all of you a chance to rediscover some of my older works that were perhaps buried under so many other before. And to spice things up I might even update a few of my old stories to add extra scenes and new images to go with them!

On that note I’m gonna be trying to adhere to Tumblr’s guidelines as best I can so I don’t give them any reason to pounce on me again. This means no risqué imagery from now on even if I personally believe it’s within guidelines. My writing style will remain the same however if a story is particularly steamy I may add a community label just to be safe. If you wanna learn more about community labels and how to make sure you’re still able to view labelled posts check out this post. All that said I do have a plan in mind to bring you all versions of my stories that have more explicit imagery but more on that in a moment.

For the next couple of weeks at least I plan on gradually re-uploading all of my content to this blog like I said. I may do one story a day or more than that depending on how I decide to do it. I’ll continue doing this until everything is back up under this new blog. Once all that is done I’m going to try and create a new master list where you can find links to all my posts just like before. And once that’s done I might give myself a breather for a few days and then I’ll see about posting some brand new content. Content of which I’ll be writing up while doing the re-uploads so that it’ll be ready to go once everything is caught back up. After that everything should hopefully be back to normal with my usual schedule of posting new stories and reblogging stories I enjoy!

Now. On top of this I also have plans to create a new blog or website completely outside of Tumblr. One that I can be allowed to do anything that please with and not have to tiptoe around any guidelines. This is where I’ll be uploading alternative versions of all my stories. Some of them may be exactly the same as they were on Tumblr while others may have secret images and gifs that otherwise wouldn’t have been allowed on Tumblr. I haven’t decided on all the specifics yet but once I figure it out I’ll let you all know.

And one last thing before I sign off. Recently I’ve been considering the possibility of turning this hobby of mine into a job. Now don’t worry I’d have absolutely no plans to paywall any of my content. I want everything to remain accessible for free. However I was considering opening up a place for people to leave donations and maybe even kick my Patreon off again. But most importantly I’d be considering opening up commissions. If I were to go down this route I’d likely be able to post much more consistent content for you all and make this my full time focus. It’s just an idea for now and I probably won’t set it into motion until early 2025 if I decide to go through with it but I wanted to at least share it with you all. I was actually just about to post about it on my original account until… you know hahahah.

Well I think I’ve said everything I wanted to say. Please can I ask that if you liked my stories that you please share this and my upcoming re-uploads around and let everyone know that this is my new blog. It would help a ton in getting me back on my feet on I’d really really appreciate it.

Can’t wait to get back on track and continue delivering stories to all you wonderful people out there. I love all of you and I’m so grateful to you all for following my journey so far and I hope you’ll all find me again so we can continue this together! ❤️

- Mr Wavell

[xoxoemynn]

For OFMD Tumblr friends who want a S3 and are scared of Twitter

First, no judgment from me. I very much get it. I resisted Twitter for a long time, and even though I'm now a bit more comfortable on it, it's still not my Fandom Home. There are a TON of valid reasons not to be on Twitter, but if you REALLY want to keep OFMD visible right now and help its chances of returning for a third season, Twitter is the best place to do it. Like it or not, Twitter is still the best social media platform for raising awareness and for instant news updates.

Tumblr posts don't make headlines. Topics that have been trending on Twitter do. And if we want this show to come back, we need to make OFMD impossible to ignore.

By now you've probably seen just how close we came to a S3, and if you're like me, you are RAGING and donning your battle jacket. But I get it can be intimidating to get on Twitter for the first time, so I thought I'd address some common anxieties I see. I'll put below a cut because this got a bit long, but I promise it's a quick read.

I don't know what to say! Where do I even start? That's okay! You don't have to create your own tweets (although it's great if you do). Amplifying other people's posts is also important. Go ahead and like/retweet/reply to other people's posts. This may also help you get an idea of what you may like to say in your own tweets.

Hashtags...yes? Yes! Although don't use too many or you may get flagged as a bot. The biggest one that seems to be emerging is #SaveOFMD. Other popular ones are #RenewAsACrew, #RenewOurFlagMeansDeath, and of course, #OFMD and #OurFlagMeansDeath.

Should I just be tagging all the streaming services? Per @renewasacrew, no. It's counterproductive. You'll want to tag one streamer at a time and be specific. Below is an example of a tweet I made the other day -- use specific reasons why that that particular streamer may benefit from picking up OFMD.

I'm scared. People are mean. Yeah, people are mean. But I will say the vibes over at OFMD Twitter are currently the best I've ever seen them. People seem to have united for the greater good and are being overwhelmingly positive and just trying to do whatever we can to save the show. (That said, again, I already had a pretty curated feed, and was very liberal with blocking users/terms I didn't want to see, but I've been able to spend so much more time in the For You tab than I ever have without being jump scared by something.)

But I don't know anyone there! Wouldn't I just be shouting into the void? Not if you use the hashtags! Fans are being really good about following those and engaging with the tweets. Plus, [Stede voice], I'm your friend. I'm xoxoemynn over there as well, I'll follow you back and engage with any of your posts that I see. Plus, what's been REALLY lovely to see is that SO many lurkers have come out of lurkerdom to support the efforts, and they are being welcomed with open arms, so you will not be alone. Again, I am telling you, vibes? Best I've ever seen them.

I can't get sucked into another social media platform, I don't have the time. The beauty here is you don't need to spend a lot of time. I've been on Twitter more in the past week than I have in the entire year I've had an account, and I'm still only on for maybe an hour total the entire day? I open the app, I check a couple accounts, I engage with a handful of posts, and I close the app. It takes all of five minutes. It's an extremely small lift that can have a very big impact.

My bet is on Zaslav expecting us to be upset, and that there may be a day or two of outrage, but then we'd move on. I'm sure right now he's trying to convince everyone that this is a fluke, and that it'll blow over soon. Don't let him win. Keep OFMD in the news. Be loud (but polite) and make Max and other streamers take note of what a passionate, loyal fan base this show has. Make their stocks continue to drop. Make it clear this is NOT just a fluke, it is NOT business as usual. It's a BIG fuck up with lasting consequences.

Twitter, for all its sins, is the best place to do this.

Now let's get our damned show back.

[veltana]

Highest bidder - Steve Rogers x virgin!reader

✦ Pairing: Steve Rogers/Reader ✦ Word count: ~5k ✦ Raiting: Explicit ✦ Warnings: AU, kind of soft!dark Steve, reader is in her mid-twenties, one shot, pwp, insecurity, loss of virginity, piv sex, condoms, cunnilingus, smallest hint of a daddy kink, fluff and smut, dirty talk, friends to lovers, small hint of possessive/protective!Steve. Let me know if I missed anything! ✦ Summary: Tired of being a virgin and out of money you travel to Las Vegas to auction it off. Little do you know your friend Steve Rogers won't let anyone else have you. ✦ Note: I think this is among the first times that I cross-post a whole fic to tumblr. This fic is also on AO3. I'll see what the response is like here and maybe I'll continue to do it in the future.

Masterlist | AO3

"So what are you up to this weekend?" Steve asks as you take the first sip of your beer. For a second you debate not telling him and Bucky, sitting across from you in the booth. "Me and Wanda are going to Vegas." "What? Without me?" Bucky’s scandalized voice makes you laugh. "You don't like traveling, or Vegas for that matter," Steve points out. And that is true, you much prefer to stay in your apartment, reading your books and drinking tea. "Also, didn't you say you could hardly afford to go out with us tonight?" Bucky questions. "Well," you begin, scratching at the beer label, not wanting to look at them. "The trip is paid for." The stunned silence from across the table doesn't bode well, you know you're in for an interrogation now. "Do you need help? Are you in trouble?" Steve's concerned voice makes you look up. He's always so sweet and caring to you, looking out for you all the time.

"No, I'm fine. I'm doing it willingly," you answer. "What are you doing willingly?" There is no hiding the curiosity in Bucky’s voice. Once again you're not sure you're going to tell them, but it also doesn't make sense to keep it a secret. It's not a big deal, that's the whole point. "I'm auctioning off my virginity," you confess and are rewarded with both of them looking at you like you've grown a second head. Before they can say anything you continue. "I'm tired of it hanging over me, I just want it gone. And I'm also tired of scraping by. What you two make in an hour, I make in a month and I just want to be a step ahead instead of a step behind for once."

Bucky's smirk is the last thing you expect. "How much are you starting at, I'll double it." "Jerk." You throw some of your nuts his way. He laughs in response. "Honestly, tell me. What does a virginity go for these days?" "I'm starting out at three thousand. It would be more if I didn’t put in a clause about condoms and I’m a little bit older than most others.” “Well, my offer still stands,” Bucky concludes. “I bet it does, perv.” “And you don’t think the people buying you are pervs?” Steve’s been quiet up until now and his accusatory tone makes you defensive. “I’m not fucking stupid Steve, of course I know they are. They are also filthy rich. If I get bought by some disgusting old man I’ll smile and think about how fucking good it will feel not being stressed about money.” He still doesn’t look pleased and you didn’t come here to get judged. Finishing your beer you get up and grab your jacket. “I’ll see you around,” you say. Before walking out.

Vegas is overwhelming and loud. Instantly you shrink down, pulling your shoulders up. You would be lost if it wasn’t for Wanda. She’s in her element, flagging down cabs and weaving through the streets while you do your best to keep up. Finally, you arrive at your room. It’s small but not cramped and the two beds are clean. “First, shower, and then we’ll get started on your hair and makeup,” Wanda instructs. “You’re the best, you know that Wanda?” you smile at her. “What are best friends for if not fixing you up for some old guy to buy your V-card,” she winks.

Maybe Wanda is a witch, you think as you look at yourself in the tall mirror backstage. Somehow she took your average look and styled it into something you would never in a hundred years be able to recreate. Instead of the innocent style many seem to prefer, she made sure you looked sexy. If this had been a regular night of going out, you’d feel uncomfortable that someone you knew would see you, but the two glasses of champagne and the knowledge that no one except you and Wanda would ever see this made your confidence high. The night moves quickly, both women and men going up on the well-lit stage to present themselves and then watching as the bids start coming in. The people bidding are not in the room, but in different hotels scattered across the city, typing in numbers. Some people do elaborate shows when they step up in front of the cameras. One guy deep-throats a large banana and at first, you giggle but then you see the digits on the screen. His bids are the highest all evening so far. You decide quickly that you will just go up, smile, and wave and wait. You aren’t expecting much, but your pride hopes at least one or two people will find you attractive enough to at least pay the starting bid.

Soon it’s your turn. With a pounding heart, you step up on the stage, your body warms not only from the light but from the nervousness coursing through your body. You concentrate on your breathing so you won’t pass out and when you smile you hope it looks genuine. At first, the monitors are quiet and your heart drops. Are you not good enough for even some old lonely pervert? Then it dings with an incoming bid. It’s just above the starting sum, but you’re instantly relieved and can’t help the actually genuine smile that cracks your face. A second later another bid comes in. You don’t know how many people are placing the bids, you just see the number rise on the monitor, to your utter delight. Quickly it’s up to four thousand and the tempo slows, so maybe some people dropped out. But a few steady bids keep coming in, until it’s starting to near five thousand and it stops long enough for an automated voice ring out through the room. “Going once. Going twice.” Before it can finish the monitor chimes again, your mouth dropping open when you see the sum. Ten thousand dollars. It must be a mistake. The counting starts again, but you hardly hear it over the pure shock you’re experiencing.

Then you’re shooed away, given a room number and a key, before being put into a waiting car to take you to the hotel. When it stops outside of the Palms Casino you think you must be dreaming. It gets even worse when you realize you’re heading to the top floor. Whoever is waiting behind the door won’t matter, because you’ll gladly do anything they ask you.

The penthouse is stunning and it’s hard to take everything in. At the floor-to-ceiling windows, a figure is outlined. They’re backlit against the neon lights of Vegas and it’s hard to make out any details except the broad shoulders, narrow waist, and long legs. That feels promising. They don’t turn around as you close the door but you don’t hesitate to step into the room and begin to walk up to them. Stopping a a few steps behind you say “Hi. I am flattered by your very generous-” But you don’t get further because the person turns around and your words get stuck in your throat. “Steve?!” You quickly step back to get away. This must be some cruel joke he and Bucky have come up with. Before you can run out of the room he grabs your wrist. The usually soft eyes are hard and his smiling mouth is a line of displeasure. “Let go of me,” you demand. “No can do, I paid for you,” his hard voice makes you still. “This isn’t funny, Steve.” “No, it’s not. Now you’re going to go into the bedroom and take off those heels, then kneel on the bed and wait for me,” his instructions make it very clear that if you argue, you won’t like what comes next, so instead you bow your head and say “Yes, Steve.”

You’ve never seen a king-size bed before and it’s much larger than you could’ve imagined. The sheets are soft against your knees as you sit on your feet, waiting. There are too many emotions and questions running wild in your body, but the most prominent one is Why had he bid on you? There is no denying Steve is good looking and when Wanda had first introduced you, sure you’d had a crush on him. But you never thought about pursuing it. His life was far from yours, with luxury cars and expensive dinners, while you went out to eat once a year on your birthday. Both he and Bucky had offered you money on several occasions but you’d never taken it, because you’d never be able to pay it back and money being owed between friends always caused trouble.

You hear the steps nearing the room and you meet his eyes as he steps through the open door. He has left his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves on his shirt, making him more desirable and more dangerous at the same time. Taking a stand a the foot of the bed he stares you down but you don’t cower. Even though you want to ask what the fuck this is, the tension in the air tells you not to talk back right now, just show him that you’re not afraid. Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise that Steve is here because he is someone you trust would never hurt you, or do anything against your will.

“Here is how this is going to go, sweetheart. I’ll do right by you and take this nice and slow like you deserve. Then when it’s over we’re sitting down to a nice dinner, and afterward I’m bending you over the dining room table and taking out all my fucking frustration on that cunt of yours until you can’t walk straight.” His words send lightning bolts of desire through you and you nod in understanding. “Use your words,” he demands. “Yes, Steve,” you agree. Then he crooks his fingers, indicating he wants you to come to him. You crawl the short way to the edge and sit back again. His fingers grip your chin carefully. “I’m going to kiss you.” “Okay.”

The second he presses his lips to yours it's like being on cloud nine. It's soft but not hesitant and you instinctively grab a hold of his shirt. Steve begins slowly, as if not to scare you but the more you meet his advances the more he takes. Then he coaxes your lips to part, slipping in his tongue and finding yours to play with. Kissing other people has been nice before, but kissing Steve is exceptional. When his hands land at your waist and pull you into him, you can't keep the moan in. His touch hardens and it makes you throb to be this close to him.

You’re a little out of it when he pulls away and you must look it too because he chuckles. "You like that?" A dopey smile splits your lips and you nod. But then his hands travel to the front of your dress, hooking his fingertips into the fabric and you can’t help stiffen. "Have you ever had your tits played with?" he asks. With a groan, you shake your head. "If you think kissing was great just wait until I get my mouth on the rest of you." He sounds so confident, but you’re not and either it’s blatantly obvious that you’re insecure or he knows you too well.

"How are you feeling?" You think about lying for a second but then decide against it. "I don’t understand why.” "Why what?" "I don’t mean to sound ungrateful but, why me Steve?" You find the courage to look up at him. Now he has that soft smile that you absolutely adore on his stupidly handsome face. His voice is just as soft when he speaks.

"Not only are you absolutely stunning, and I’m not talking about the way you’re dolled up right now. I love seeing you in your big sweaters while you go around the bookstore and help people with recommendations. I also admire you, because you follow your heart. Doing what makes you happy is important to you and I wish I were more like that. Even if you look out for yourself, that never stops you from caring about others. You cry when you see clips of rescue animals. And you're so so obvious that I've been in love with you since Wanda introduced you." "What?" you choke, your whole reality shifting. "Sweet, dumb little pet.” Steve’s hands cup your face and light squeezes your cheeks together for a second. “I've wanted you since you stammered out your name. Something so pure and precious deserves the world." "I didn’t know,” you whisper. "Of course you didn’t. When I got home that night, I jerked myself off to the thought of you and I swear I never come so hard in my life."

"Steve!" Heat rushes into your cheeks at his words. "I’ve had time to think about this a lot. I'm going to get you so wet and needy you will beg for my cock. I'm gonna make sure you're at the brink of insanity, deliriously begging for me to fuck you, even though you don't know what it feels like." "Oh god!" you moan, desire moving through your body. "Let me taste you, kitten. Let me make you scream,” his seductive voice rumbles.

Nodding you watch as his fingers pull the dress down, baring your breasts to his eyes. Instantly he cups them, thumbs brushing your nipples, making you keen. "Prettiest fucking tits I've ever seen," he whispers before leaning down and licking a nipple. The sensation makes you grab hold of his head to steady yourself. His tongue flicks it several times before sucking it into his mouth and you arch into him, clutching him, moaning out his name. Sure, you've been aroused in your life before, but the ache Steve creates is starting to feel painful. "Steve!" you plead when he switches to the other side, giving your other nipple the same treatment. He hums against your skin before pulling off you with a plop and immediately kisses you again. Nothing is really different from before but just knowing that Steve's tongue was just somewhere else on your body and now it's in your mouth makes you heat up even more.

It feels good when he takes charge, it keeps your thoughts from running in all the wrong directions. He gets you to lie down, crawling onto the bed after you, kissing every inch of exposed skin he can get to while you shudder under him. "How are you feeling?" he asks with a shit-eating grin, clearly knowing he's responsible for your state. "Goodgoodgood!" Is all you can get out while pawing at his clothed chest. "Want me to take it off?" Nodding vigorously you try to undo the buttons, but fail. He laughs and sits back between your spread legs, untucking the shirt and pulling it over his head. The bulge in his pants is very visible and you swallow hard at the sight of it, both scared and excited. He notices you looking. "We'll get to that later," he promises with another kiss. "First I'm going to get you wet and ready for me."

A hand hikes up your skirt and a finger follow the edge of your panties, down toward the juncture of your leg. It's like hot coal against your skin, burning you most sweetly. Even if you’re already soaked, his touch is sending pulse after pulse into your cunt and you're scared you're about to stain the sheets if he continues. A fingertip caresses over your core, touch so light it's almost not there but your sensitive skin feels it. Trembling you arch up, gripping the sheets. "Is that good?" Not knowing if you can speak you just nod and he continues. Down your thighs and back up, over and over again against your covered cunt, fingers getting firmer and firmer the more sounds you make.

A thrill you've never felt before has taken up place in your body, threatening to send your mind spiraling. To distract yourself you explore the plains of Steve's body that you can reach, stroking his arms and shoulders, but to feel him makes it even worse. You can’t wait to have him pressed against you.

Sitting back again he says, "I'm going to take these off now." He hooks his fingers at the top of your panties and starts to pull. "Lift your ass up." He instructs. Now your tits and your cunt are exposed for him. Steve is staring, but when you try to close your legs from embarrassment he quickly puts his hands on your thighs to spread them apart even more. "Don't you dare take that pretty pussy away from me," he all but growls and it sends another wave of pleasure into you. The air feels cold against your wet, warm skin. Then his gaze flicks up to you and with another smile, he leans down bending you almost in half, placing a kiss on your lips. "Last kiss before I devore you," he whispers and slides down your body. When his words sink in, you go rigid.

"No, you don't have to, we can just‐" you begin but the look he gives silences you. "Do you know how long I have waited for this?" He nips the inside of your thigh. "No," you whimper. "Been dreaming about how you would feel, and taste." He mouths at your skin. "The nights I can’t sleep I lie there and think of you soaking my beard when you come for me," he groans and moves down a little more until his face is right in front of your pussy. "Now I'm having my fill and when I'm done you'll be primed for my cock, I promise."

Not giving you any time to answer he dives in. His tongue feels nothing like your own fingers, or the vibrator you have in your drawer. It's sending you to heaven with every stroke. Steve takes notes of what makes you moan the loudest and in no time the unmistakable warmth of an orgasm begins to build. You do your best to keep still, but it's hard when it feels so good and Steve follows your every movement until your thighs are trembling heavily, breath coming out in irregular gasps, your fingers threatening to tear the sheets apart.

It climbs quicker than you expect and when the orgasm rips through you it’s with a cry, that leaves you almost boneless afterward. Looking down, panting, you notice you've basically crushed Steve's head between your thighs. With a "Sorry!" You spread them apart and he comes up for air, his beard glistening with you. "How was that?" "Incredible," you sigh. The ache that threatened to consume you has died down to a more manageable throb. "Great." He positions himself again and you stare with wide eyes. An amused smirk plays on his lips. "Did you think that was it?" You try to stutter out a response but he raises his hand and wiggles his fingers playfully. "Now you get these too."

After a second you relax into the pillows, trusting Steve with your body. He's gentle when he begins, now that your cunt is a million times more sensitive, but soon you're trembling again, and then the tip of his finger is at your opening. It slides in without resistance and the feeling changes. More nerves send sparks through you from new places. It's too much for your poor brain to decipher and you don’t fight it, just let it take you, like you’re floating down a stream. "Good girl, relaxing for me so well." Through bleary eyes you see him looking up at you. "Ready for another one?" You're not sure what that means but you nod anyway and are rewarded with a smile. He never looks away from you as you feel another finger press in together with the first. A high-pitched sound leaves you as your chest heaves. It's too much but not enough. You’re so full but in the best way possible. Then he moves them and you can hear just how wet he's made you.

His tongue comes back to play with your clit and soon you're at the edge of another orgasm. "Yes yes yes!" You chant over and over again. Everything he does feels so good. The sensation of clamping down on his fingers as you come is new and makes the orgasm much stronger this time, leaving you mildly disoriented for a second. "God, you look so beautiful when you come." Steve lays his head against your leg, still moving his hand and sending small aftershocks into your body. "You know what?" "What Stevie?" you ask, your voice a little hoarse as you reach down and place your hand in his soft hair, carding your fingers through it, just to feel him. "I don't think you noticed, but there are three fingers inside you now." You make a questioning sound. "Added another right after you came. No problem at all. Just need you to come one more time, then I'll know you're ready." He does something with his fingers inside you, making you whimper from the pleasure it sends through you. "Found your G-spot too," he looks smug as he says it. "Let's see what happens when I play with just that."

It’s another new experience that puts your body on edge in the best way. The pleasure never dissipates but it never builds either and finally you can't stand it anymore, deciding to beg for the relief he can give you. "Stevie, please! Use your mouth again!" "Of course, when you ask so nicely." When he sucks your clit into his mouth, it makes you see stars, and seconds later the built-up ecstasy reaches its peak. Gripping his head you grind against his tongue with a cry of his name because it’s so fucking good.

Afterward, you sink down with a relieved sigh and you're pretty sure your muscles have never been this relaxed in your life. "Such a good girl for me." Steve praises before pulling out his fingers, licking them clean, and moving off the bed. You instantly feel achingly empty. Not taking his eyes from you he undo his pants and slide them and his underwear off.

The sight of his hard, leaking cock standing out from his body is kind of mesmerizing. You've seen dicks in pictures, sent unsolicited to you on a few occasions, and a couple of times when you've tried to watch porn. Never before have you thought a dick could look pretty. As if something possesses your body you crawl over to the edge of the bed, settling on your legs and reaching out towards it. Steve watches, chest heaving slightly as you trace his cock with a fingertip, all the way from root to tip, dipping it into the leaking mess. Looking up at him you bring it to your mouth and lick it. The groan he lets out in response is delicious.

It doesn't taste bad, just different and you're about to ask if you can try to take him in your mouth but as if sensing your thoughts he leans down to capture your lips in a kiss. At first, you try to move away, knowing where he has just been, but he keeps a steady hand at the back of your neck, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue, and just like him, it’s not bad, just different. "If I let you touch me more than that, I'll burst,” he explains before he grabs your dress and pulls it off you in one go. “Now be good and lay down again." "Yes, Stevie," you answer and fall onto the bed, spreading your legs. Instead of joining you right away, he walks up to the bedside table and opens a drawer, pulling out a square package.

Embarrassment fills you. In your post-orgasmic state, you forgot about your own rule. If he hadn’t gotten a condom you would gladly have let him take you raw. Lucky for you, Steve is not the type of person to take advantage of you like that. He rolls it on and you swallow hard. Just the look of it is big, you’re not sure how it will fit. "Don't be scared. With how wet you are, it’ll glide right in," he says with a smile, kneeling between your spread legs.

This is the moment, you think. After this, you won't be a virgin anymore. Even if it is just a social construct, you've never actually had a dick inside of you and that will be a new experience. Steve kisses you, helping the doubts slip away. The rubber feels weird against your lower lips, and then it's at your opening. The tip presses inside and Steve watches your face. "Does it hurt?" he asks. "No,” you assure him. “It's just different." "Tell me if you want to stop." "Just keep going."

Slowly he eases his way inside and once he bottoms out both of you are breathing heavily. With a groan, Steve's head lands on your shoulder. "Fuck you're like a vice around my dick. I'm going to try to move." You wrap your arms around his shoulders, caressing his back and he starts moving. You feel like you're filled to the brim and it's pressing against your G-spot, making you warm and high again. Experimentally you lift your hips, meeting his, eliciting a moan from him. "I'm sorry," Steve mumbles. "I won't last long." Before you can respond he continues. "You feel too good. So tight and warm. Fuck!" Then he lifts himself on one of his strong arms before grabbing the back of your neck and bending it until you're looking down toward where your bodies are connected. Steve slams his hips into you and you answer with a cry of pleasure. "Look at that unused cunt taking my big cock so well." "Steve!" you whine. His thrusts are too good, the pressure too much, and looking at it only makes you hotter. "It was made for me, right?" "Yes! Ah! Steve!" The throb in your clit is driving you insane and you reach down to relieve it. "Oh fuck. Are you gonna come on my dick your first time? That's dirty." You never expected words to be such a big part of sex, but the way Steve is talking is heightening your sensation.

"That's right. Rub your clit for me. Fuck you're clenching around me so hard. Tell me if you're gonna come." Nodding frantically you feel the climax building. Your whole body is a coil wind up tight and you're not sure what will happen when it snaps.

"I'm - I'm… I think I'm going to come, Steve," you moan. The pressure in your lower stomach is excruciating and delirious. You just need a little more. Letting go of your head he meets your eyes. "Good girl, I'm right behind you. Squeeze me dry. Come for Daddy." The last words enter your brain and sweep you off. The orgasm takes over your whole body and drowns you in pleasure. The edge of your vision blurs, your body shuddering violently. You hear the blood pumping in your veins. Feel your heart drumming in your ribcage. On some level you're aware of Steve above you, chanting your name as his hips pump into you and he fills the condom.

The weight of him is nearly crushing but also makes you feel safe. For the first time, you have the presence of mind to take in his body as you caress down his sides and his back, down over his ass as far as you can reach. It makes him sigh happily and you feel so content. After a while, he raises himself on his elbows and pecks your lips, nose, and cheeks until you giggle, before getting off completely and disposing of the condom. As soon as the warmth of him leaves, small, cruel thoughts about this once again being some kind of joke start forming in your head. Despite what he’s said, you find it hard to believe that it would be true.

Before you have time to think more about it he is beside you in the bed again, leaning on his arm and looking down at you. "So, how was that?" He’s curious, there’s no hiding it. "Better than I could ever dream of," you answer honestly. "Well, that's an ego boost," Steve laughs. "How… How was I?" He kisses you before he whispers, "Best I ever had." You can't help but snort at that. "Don't fucking lie to me."

With a growl Steve rolls onto his back, taking you with him and making you lay on his chest. "It's the fucking truth, and unless you want a spanking to go with the next round, you're going to believe me." That tone of voice. The threat of pain and pleasure combined sparks something inside you, and Steve notices. "Oh, does that make you horny?" Hiding your face in the crook of his neck you say "Yes, Daddy." Steve groans and crushes you into his chest. "If I could fuck you again right now, believe me, I would."

Several hours later you're in bed again, pressed against Steve’s warm chest. He did what he promised and you’re sure you won’t be able to walk tomorrow. But something is weighing on your mind. “I’ll pay you back,” you say. “If you do, you’ll wish I spanked you.” “But-,” “No. I told you that you deserve the world, that money is a drop in the ocean to me.” “I can’t believe you bought me.” “I can’t believe you sold your body.” Even if you can’t see him, his voice makes it clear he’s not happy. “The thought of someone else touching you, fucking you. I’m not a violent man, but that makes me want to kill.” “I’m glad it was you,” you confess with a smile and kiss his skin. A moment later he’s on top of you, kissing you sweetly and you feel him stirring against you, growing hard. An answering wetness pool at your core. “I need you again,” he murmurs against your mouth. With a nod, you reach between your bodies to guide him inside. Pulling back, he says “Condom.” When he reaches over to the bedside table, you shake your head and lift your hips. “Oh fuck, are you sure?” “I want to feel you,” you reassure him. It’s a bit sore when he presses inside but the movements are slow, and the kisses quickly take your mind off it. Afterward, he doesn’t pull out, and you fall asleep with his cum and cock between your legs, happy he was your highest bidder.

[moonchild701]

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Sacrifice The World (Never You)

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Summary: "A hero would sacrifice you to save the world. But I'm not a hero."

Pairing: Dabi/Hero!Reader, Hawks & Reader are friends

Reader can be read as gen

Content Warning: Angst, Betrayal, Hawks is an ass off screen, SFW, Mild use of Y/N, H/N means Your Hero Name

Word Count: 2.8k

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: This is for a Weekly Challenge in one of the Communities I'm in here on Tumblr, based on the summary. Tweaked the quote a bit, hope you enjoy! 💖

My Masterlist

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Being the same age as Hawks, and new to the hero scene, you navigated being new heroes together.

Your childhood best friend should be here with you, by your side, being heroes together because it's what you promised, but he'd died years ago in a fire, so now you carry out both your dreams for him too.

You've been friends with Hawks for years, getting to know him only a few months after his debut.

And though you say friends, you will admit that there were some...feelings...at the start, because really, who could blame you? Of course, that crush was quickly snuffed out with him clearly solely focused on the job, with occasional random hookups, and as time went on, it disgusts you to even consider him as anything more.

He's a walking red flag, literally, with those wings, but he's your friend, your first best friend in a long time, and you know he feels the same.

You know he works directly for the Commission, even with his own agency, after they helped him so much, but you've always been wary of them. As a freelance hero, who doesn't take their orders as much as those directly aligned with them or other Hero Agencies would, they don't exactly like you either, especially with how close you are with their golden boy.

And while that isn't really much to be totally wary of them, seeing Hawks' real smile and morals dwindling over the years, is; because it's almost always after he comes back from a sketchy secret mission assigned to him from them.

So of course, you start digging where you shouldn't, because you're worried for your friend, worried for what he's becoming.

You find out that he's been ordered to kill someone, not even a villain, no.

A politician.

They apparently got on the HPSC's bad side, and now Hawks is being ordered to get them out of the picture.

That's the tipping point for you, when you stop trusting them, when you start questioning them more, their ways, their morals, their orders.

And unbeknownst to you, when they start questioning your loyalty.

*****

Recently, Hawks has been....distant. Cagey, in ways he usually wasn't, even when he had the most top secret missions.

Normally, one wouldn't be able to tell the difference, but after knowing him for so long, it's easy to spot.

You find out the reason from an unexpected source.

*****

Dabi knew the bird was a spy from the moment they met.

It was pathetically obvious.

But, well, he thought he could be useful.

Not without doing some background checks of course. Name, birthday, parents, affiliations.

Friends.

It's how he finds out about you, beautiful and achingly familiar, and one of Hawks' closest friends.

He stomps down on the flare of jealousy at that, reminding himself that that boy died years ago on that hill, reminding himself that you probably don't even remember him.

Getting someone to hack into the HPSC files, he further looks into Hawks and his movements, what missions he has, your missions, what they have on you and oh.

He thought he was at the peak of his anger towards Heroes, towards the Commission, towards Society.

He thought that the person he hates most in the world would always be his father.

He finds out that the HPSC president, and perhaps Hawks himself, are competing for that position.

Hawks is absolutely a spy, his mission to infiltrate and eliminate the League clear as day in his files, along with something else that makes his seams smoke with the heat of his anger.

The HPSC president deems you a threat, and has ordered your elimination, with Hawks being the one to carry it out.

Seething, he combs through their files, finding and collecting more and more information on the HPSC, and even then, he honestly doesn't know which one of their crimes you know about, which one has you suspected, has them wanting to silence you.

There's so many, it could be anything.

And then, he finds your file.

There are notes about your 'drifting loyalties', notes about what information they suspect you know, your schedule, and then...

The order for your assassination, along with the date and location they expect it to happen.

The very system and people that you've devoted your life to are the ones that would dare betray you, betray your trust; would try to abandon you, throwing you away like trash.

He refuses to sit back and let the best thing that's ever happened to him get snuffed out and tossed away like trash.

And hey, maybe you'd like the idea of becoming villains together instead.

*****

When you get home from a long patrol, all you want to do is shower, eat and sleep like the dead.

Those plans go out the window the moment you step foot into your apartment and feel someone is there.

You scan the dark room silently, not seeing anything at first. Then, a flicker of light; a small flame shines in the darkness, lighting up the features of a man on your couch.

Yes, a flame.

A blue flame.

Blue flames that are hauntingly familiar for multiple reasons, but one of those reasons is literally dead, so the remaining ones are terrifying.

The villain Dabi is sitting on your couch, so very casually, as he plays with the licks of fire between his fingers, the light of it illuminating his features eerily, casting shadows and making his eyes seem to glow as they stare at you.

A bead of sweat trickles down the side of your head.

Yes, you are a hero, a damn good one, at that.

That doesn't mean you're prepared to fight the A-rank villain, tired and alone, in an enclosed area, within a populated apartment building.

You swallow thickly, reminding yourself that you need to be calm.

Seeing as he already knows you're there, you flick on the lights.

"Dabi. What do you want?" You try to keep your voice steady and the tremor out of it as you speak, and you don't know if you succeed, as you slowly walk forward.

"Well hello to you too, H/N." He says sarcastically, his voice smoky and deep,

"Come sit, yeah? We need to have a lil chat."

Before you can think about it, you scoff, glaring at him warily. "And what could we, possibly have to talk about?"

Huffing a dry laugh, he raises his hand, waving a folder. "Sit and you'll find out."

This is such a bad idea, but honestly, what choice do you have?

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself, sitting on the opposite side.

For a moment, he doesn't say anything, just staring at you, making you start to get more and more nervous and impatient.

Just as you were about to snap, you hear him murmur softly, almost sadly, "You really don't recognize me, huh?"

Taken aback, you stutter, "W-What?"

Running his fingers through his midnight hair, he mutters, "Well, I was hoping that you of all people would recognize your best friend, Y/N."

Azure eyes lock onto your wide ones as you freeze in place.

You've only had two best friends all your life, and one is dead.

Though, you never truly accepted that, did you?

Your hands shake, tears blurring your vision as you look at the man in front of you. Really look at him.

At the scars in some specific places, some from burns, some not.

At the way he taps his foot nervously.

At those blue eyes, the same color as Endeavor's, yet so different, so pretty, so achingly familiar.

When you take a closer look at his dark hair, and you can see white roots peaking out, that's what bursts the dam.

"Touya?" Your voice is fragile as you ask tentatively, hopefully; a small tremor in your voice as you gaze at him with teary eyes, and Dabi feels his heart crack.

"Yeah, Doll, it's me." He breathes, opening arms because he knows what's coming. And he's right, as you lunge forward, tackling him in a hug as you sob into his shoulder. He grips you just as tight, burying his face in your hair, hugging you tightly. And oh, how you missed his hugs, completely engulfing you in that comforting warmth.

You sob and scream at him, words muffled by his shoulder, but he just holds you through it.

And when you're done, minutes or hours later, you pull back, sitting next to him.

You need answers.

"What the fuck, Touya?" Your voice is croaky and broken from all the crying, and he chuckles lightly as he wipes away the lingering tears.

"I go by Dabi now." There's a shit eating grin threatening to be released but he manages to hold it in to spare himself of your wrath.

You glare at him through glossy eyes, biting out, "Yeah, no shit. Explain."

He sighs, thumb caressing your cheekbone as he avoids your eyes. "I'll explain everything another day. Right now, I need you to read this." He pulls back, reaching for the folder you completely forgot about, and hands it to you.

You look at him with furrowed brows as you open it, before looking down to read.

You fall silent as you read, breathing picking up as the papers crinkle in your tight grip.

"Touya, where'd you find this?" You whisper shakily, eyes flicking back up to him.

"....You know where." His voice is gentle, and somehow that makes it worse.

You swallow around the lump in your throat as you stare back down at the orders written for your winged best friend to kill you.

He wouldn't.

Would he?

You know him to be loyal to the Commission, to the president, but you also know him to be a loyal friend.

Taking a deep breath, you let it out slowly.

You'd give him the benefit of the doubt.

When you say this, of course, Dabi isn't pleased.

"And what if he actually tries to kill you? You know how much of a lap dog he is." He says through gritted teeth, trying to control his anger at the thought of you even being near Hawks.

"I....he's my friend, Tou....has been for years....I have to believe I mean more to him than an order." You try to convince yourself that you absolutely trust that he wouldn't go through with this, would warn you at the very least.

Touya scoffs in disbelief, looking at your like you're stupid, before sighing in resignation. "Okay...if that's what you want. But if he tries, or if you just change your mind, call me." He slips you a piece of paper, presumably with his number on it. "I missed ya, so if you want, you can join me in the League. They'd love you."

You sputter in surprise, looking at him with wide, incredulous eyes. "I'm a hero, Dabi."

He looks at you flatly. "Yeah, but for how long until they either kill you or revoke your license? They want to get rid of you, Y/N. Because you know they're corrupt. So, we'll just take them down."

You're on the verge of crying again, and  he could see it.

"We couldn't be heroes together, so how 'bout villains?" His smile is cheeky but genuine as he tries to lighten the mood, softening when it works, as you choke out a wet laugh.

"Just, think about, yeah?" Leaning in, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead and you feel yourself flush with warmth.

With that, he leaves the way he apparently entered. Through the window, down the fire escape.

Left alone with your thoughts, you doubt you'd get any sleep tonight.

*****

Every day since then, you've been withdrawing as much money from your account as you can without seeming suspicious, transferring the rest to another account; and with a go bag packed and ready for the worst case scenario, you stew in your anxiety as the days go by.

The date of your scheduled assassination is tomorrow, and you've yet to speak to Hawks.

You tell yourself that it's normal, because it is; you've had longer periods of time than this of not speaking to each other with the cluttered messes that are your schedules.

What isn't normal, is that if he was going to say anything, he would've by now.

You can't exactly just ask Hawks about it, as you have no way of explaining how you know, and no way of truly knowing that he wouldn't just kill you on the spot.

Because as much as you like and trust him as a friend, you've never felt that the feeling is as mutual. Like, sure he likes you enough as a friend, but would he go against orders from the HPSC for you?

You don't know, and that scares you.

So you do all you can at the moment, without outright running.

You wait.

If he tries to contact you, trying to get you to go to that specified spot tomorrow, you'll know, and you'll already have a way out with Dabi and the League; because otherwise, the truth is, there's no future for you.

Because even if you survive this, you'd have to go into hiding anyway, or they'll just try again, or ruin your life, revoking your license, everything, or just straight up frame you and toss you into Tartarus, throwing away the key.

So many bad outcomes.

Yet, naively, you hope.

*****

Then, you get a text from Hawks, asking you to hang out tomorrow, at the location.

And your heart cracks, because someone you care about, someone you trusted, has decided that your life is worth less than their job or morals.

And then you get angry.

*****

You quickly gather your things, all of your necessities packed and ready to go in a duffel bag and backpack, and contact Dabi for pickup on a burner phone.

And as the swirling portal opens up in your living room, you send off one last text to Hawks, replying with a short "Fuck you :)", on your personal phone of course, before dropping it into the prepared glass of acid, so they can't get anything off of it or track you, right next to the files Dabi gave you, and stepping through the mist.

Straight into Dabi's waiting arms.

*****

After meeting the League, you decide that you already like them, though wish you met under better circumstances.

Such as one of your best friends decidedly not trying to kill you.

For the corrupt government, no less!

And through all of the blazing anger and newfound hatred, when it's just you and Dabi left, you cry.

He softly cups your face in his scarred hands, gently tilting your head up to hold your gaze as he wipes away your tears. "The heroes would dare make a martyr of you, sacrifice you and throw you away like trash for this fucked up world." He says lowly, voice trembling with the anger that burns like small suns in his azure eyes. He leans in closer, warm breath hitting your lips, murmuring, "But I'm no hero, doll. I'd raze the world if it meant you'd be warm." His words drip with reverence, eyes blazing with the truth of his words, and you tremble where you stand.

Because as a hero, the threat and promise of such violence should horrify you.

But as just a person, who's never known true loyalty shown to you in so long, who's been betrayed and abandoned by all those you've loved and trusted, in the past and recently, being shown such devotion, no matter how tainted, how violent, by the one person you've always loved most, it is irristibly bewitching.

And before you know it, you're pulling him down into a bruising kiss, breathing out all of your doubts and worries, and he swallows them all down with a sigh of contentment, sliding one hand from your cheek, down to your waist, pulling you in closer.

To anyone else, you'd seem foolish to put any amount of trust in a villain of all people, after being burned by betrayal so many times by people they'd deem 'better'.

But they've all let you down, and Touya, Dabi, is not them, so why not try the other side?

It's a sacrifice you're actually willing to make this time.

Pulling back, you whisper against his mismatched lips.

"Let's raze everything."

His answering grin is feral and bright, and worth the sacrifice that is the world.

The very world that made the mistake of throwing you both away.

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

wish me luck, maggots, I'm going to preach good omens to irl humans.

Tomorrow I have, well, some kind of college thing... an explore the college event? Dunno what it is, exactly. A morning spent at the college where they'll discuss the courses and I'll need to interact with other students.

Also, parents are supposed to come, but mine are going to be away with work. And my brother said I needed to dye my hair black before going (with the Crowley red faded, it's now a bright ginger, kind of Bildad-coloured). He did not say this with kindness.

I'm not going to do any such thing, because fuck it. If the college can't accommodate me (not about the hair, but about my being queer and my mental health) then I'd rather know sooner, not later be caught off guard like I was the previous college.

SO MY GRAND PLAN FOR DEALING WITH IRL HUMANS TOMORROW:

I take the Good Omens book with me.

I dress as gay as I know how to. If I have to wear my bi flag as a scarf, so be it.

It won't come to that, don't worry. I tend to look gay as a default.

I carry the Good Omens book in my hands at all times.

I wait till someone asks me about it, as people tend to do at such events.

I SPREAD THE GOOD OMENS AGENDA TO THEM.

I move on to my next victim. During this process, Good Omens being the story that it is, I will make many queerphobic people very, very uncomfortable.

Good. I will tell many people I like their shoelaces. Let's see how that one goes.

Now at this point I will have made conversation with several people, but worst comes to worst, I can always just find some English students. Apparently they all, as a collective species, adore Neil Gaiman. Excellent.

If even that plan of interaction fails, and all is doomed, I will sit on a chair, look gay and mysterious, and open Tumblr and talk to you maggots instead.

A flawless plan, methinks.

Am I terrified? Absolutely, yes, and I am traumatised by my previous experiences at college.

However, I have decided to put things into perspective, and go forth not as me, Asmi, but as the Good Omens Mascot, and preach Good Omens to everyone, and then get the fuck out of there. This is a lot more manageable.

...anyway, so, yes. Wish me luck. Wahoo?

[novella-november]

Fantasy Discrimination, and The Implications

A post on my dash reminded me to share some more writing advice, so here is a very good article by @mythcreantsblog , about how to make sure you're not dehumanizing a species or culture in your writing, which is a good guide on how to avoid accidentally writing racist or ableist tropes:

In particular, I want to talk about the ever-present racist trope in a lot of fantasy and scifi fiction, and that is the decision a lot of creators make where the villains are not just a single person, a faction, or a kingdom -- *its an entire species* who is not only the villain, but are outright, inherently *evil*.

To start out, here's a political cartoon by Tom Gauld you've probably seen all around tumblr with the name cropped out:

[ID: a political cartoon by Tom Gauld, showing two identical cities and boats mirrored on a river, each with a purple or yellow flag; one side is labled "Our Blessed Homeland, Our Glorious Leader, Our Great Religion, Our Noble Populace, Our Heroic Adventuerers", The other side is labled "Their Barbarous Wastes, Their Wicked Despot, Their Primitive Superstition, Their Backwards Savages, Their Brutish Invaders. End ID]

This political cartoon is a very good tool for testing your writing for the trope of demonizing/glorifying your fantasy/scifi species.

Let's use a classic example: your fantasy setting is made up of the following species: Elves, Dwarves, Humans, and Orcs.

Your Elves are a long-lived, ethereal people who live in secluded, perfect cities, all of them tall, blonde, and blue-eyed, who are extremely wise and making plans that can stretch out over dozens of human generations, and they're the deciders of 90% of politics in your world. Your Dwarves are a short, squat, species who spend their lives working in forges, mines, and laboratories, tirelessly toiling (because they enjoy the hard work, of course!) and selling their products to the Elves who are their largest and wealthiest customer base; Dwarves work hard and studiously for decades at a a time to complete a piece of work in order to fufill the intricate orders from their Elven customers, which is how the majority of them provide for their families, working 16 hour shifts each day for decades per order. Your Humans are far more seperated, and often live on the fringes of what their longer-lived compatriots consider "Civilized Society", often living as Subsistence farmers and hunters, not out of choice, but often due to poor land and lack of resources; the wealthiest of Human cities are usually the capitals where the royals reside and may live in luxury with rich markets and high-quality products and running water, but the vast majority of Humans live in small, poor villages that must rely on traveling merchants to sell what produce and livestock they can spare from their farms in order to buy the supplies they need to live out another year. Your Orcs.... well, they don't really live anywhere, do they? Orcs strongholds can only maintain their grip in hellish wastelands where living is nigh impossible, with all food and water only obtained from outside sources; occasionally, Orcs will attempt to establish base camps in more fertile land, invading neighboring Human, Dwarf, and Elven territory to do so, who quickly unite to expel these vile, dark, brutish invaders lest they steal their daughters, destroy and taint all of the natural resources and steal the few jobs available to the Humans in Dwarven and Elven cities as manual labour and servants.

And Now, take a step back from this world, and take a long, hard look at these species (outside of humans who are just kinda there in the middle and the only ones capable of change because Humans Are Always Special) and societies and what ideas are being reinforced here, especially when the above descriptions are framed as Hard Facts which are both Just and True?

(archived read-more Here)

Elves are morally superior and are always Perfect and Correct,

Dwarves are happy to spend their entire lives toiling in the forges and mines to please their Elven patrons,

and Orcs are Evil Monsters who will rob, murder, and rape any hapless victim who comes their way, so it's better to slaughter them all on sight and kick them out of your cities and towns, and this is the 100% correct morally right choice every single time and the narrative and characters themselves support this?

Did you spot them already, or does the above just seem like a cool, fun fantasy world where Elves are the cool wise good guys and Orcs are the devil's army and can be used as canon fodder any time your main character needs to mow down some enemies for a Badass Scene?

Let's retrace our steps a bit, shall we, and examine this "perfect" world through a critical lens?

When your elves are all portrayed as Perfect Ethereally Beautiful Blonde and Blue-Eyed wise leaders of the civilized world, what idea is being reinforced here? Who does it harm, and what real world ideas is this mirroring and enforcing? Who is going to have their own biases reinforced by this narrative?

When only the longest-lived people are allowed to decide politics, what group biases are being enforced? Is portraying "young people" as "being incapable of making political decisions" as a correct, logical choice in your story something you wish to enforce? Are there any real world issues this trope mirrors?

When your Dwarves are all Happy Workers and Slaves, bound to and reliant on the superior Elves to live, spending the majority of their life purely in service to these Superior Beings while happy to do it, what idea is being reinforced here? Who might see themselves in the plight of the Dwarves and feel alienated and insulted by the Dwarves happily slaving away in the dark? Who might have biased ideas reinforced by seeing the Dwarves treated in such a way?

When your Orcs are portrayed as evil, dark skinned, brutish savages who will kidnap and rape poor helpless women from the "pure" species, when Orcs are incapable of creating anything of their own and can only steal, what racist messages are being enforced and upheld? Who are the real people and cultures being demonized when you perpetuate this? What real world peoples and cultures have faced *decades of propaganda framing them as such*?

If you spotted these harmful messages in the initial indented description, good job!

But if you didn't, it's time to find and read critical reviews and essays written by marginalized communities of works that include these damaging tropes, because if it your Evil Species are Weird Aliens, because when you characterize and describe your Evil Species, you are undoubtedly going to be drawing heavily on your own internal biases of what makes people Other and Wrong.

Are your Evil Species all dark-skinned, physically-strong and animalistic? Congrats, you have just regurgitated centuries-old racism that justifies slavery, segregation, and discrimination *to this day*

Are your Evil Species all nomadic ~cannibals~ who are incapable of creating anything of their own and have to loot and steal from others to have anything of value? Congrats, you are once again regurgitating racist propoganda that has been used against countless cultures and minorities for centuries.

Are your Evil Species reknowned for kidnapping and raping the women of your Good Guys in order to create Evil Twisted Halfbreed Offspring for ....uh, reasons? Congrats, once again, this is literally just racist propaganda being reinforced by your writing.

Anything you come up with to make your Species Inherently Evil is going to most likely be something that is weaponized against real world minorities that you are now reinforcing with your writing, from racism to ableism to queerphobia and all the ways they intersect.

How do you fix this?

It's incredibly simple!

Don't make an entire Species be Inherently Evil.

They need to be just as varied as real living people.

Your Species should not be a Monolith, let alone of *Evil*.

Your Species should not have their only "decent/civilized/kind people" examples come from ""crossbreeds"" [and this term itself should be used only by bigots as a deragatory term] or random orphans who were raised by one of the Good Species(tm)-- this is how your story starts advocating for *eugenics*, which is not something you want to do!

So, instead of having an entire Species be "Inherently biologically" Evil, consider instead:

Making your villain group diverse instead of all one Species.

if your villain group is a Species Supremacist, they're probably still going to have underlings and lower castes who do their dirty work, or have been taken in by the cult ideology.

Making the villains of this Species be a small fraction of a larger whole, who are part of a violent cult, ideology, or political party that not only puts them in conflict with your main characters, but also with the rest of their Species.

Having your main character or their friends be the same Species as your villain group, and they represents the vast majority of the Species, instead of hailing them as "the Paragon of Goodness who emerged somehow pure from of a species forged in hell" or anything similar.

You should also sit down and not only think about the harmful, racist tropes that would come from writing Inherently Evil Species, but also consider:

Why do you want to include an entire species of people who are inherently evil in your novel?

Is your novel gaining anything for including these tropes uncritically?

Does it make it a better, more interesting story to include these tropes uncritically?

What message are you trying to send with your story?

Does including these tropes uncritically in your story *undermine* your intended message?

Another trope in the opposite direction, is talking about "Oppression" and "Fantasy Racism" from the perspective of a character who is part of the oppressed minority, only to spend the entire novel talking about how your Opressed Class are Literally and Factually threats to the population that "discriminate" against them, usually by being rightfully wary in their prescence.

if the Oppressed Minorities in your story in anyway resemble the Orcs in Bright, the Predators in Zootopia, or the Khajiit in the Elderscrolls, where the Racism these peoples face in based on hard proven facts that these people have been and still are threats to most of the population..

... you're less writing a story about how "Racism Against Vulnerable Minorities is Bad"

and sound more like you're saying

"It's bad to be "mean" (afraid of) Nazis who literally want you dead and who can kill you with impunity and no consequences."

If you are writing a story about Fantasy Discrimination, and the basis of your Fantasy Discrimination is based on *cold hard facts that your narrative supports and upholds*, instead of actually basing it on and talking about what leads to discrimination in the real world

(xenophobia and the fear+hatred of The Other, economic gain, mainly),

then you are not making the progressive stance that you think you are, and instead are enforcing the ancient propoganda that racism is based on fact, that racism is "for a good reason", and you need to take care that you are not upholding this idea in your works.

TL;DR:

Instead of making an entire Species of people a trope of Wise Good Guys or Evil Incarnate, consider using *Factions not Races* for your groups, and think long and hard about the implications of your world's politics and how it mirrors our own world, especially in ways *you may not intend it to.* If your story is meant to be progressive and inclusive, but your villains are an entire race of black orcs who slave and rape the good guys species, you need to go back to the drawing board.

[monsterkin-culture-is]

Tips for Vampirekins? BECAUSE GENUINELY I JUST FOUND OUT I AM ONE TODAY considering theres been signs for years...

So any advice and tips is VERY MUCH APPRECIATED. 😭

SQUEALS OMG WELCOME TO THE COMMUNITY!! It means so much you came to me for help 💜

I'm not sure if this is your first kintype so I'll add my general kin tips as well as vamp specific stuff.

Ways To Connect With Your Kintype:

Create a Spotify Playlist: Doesn't have to be on-theme, can always just be your fave songs labelled under your kintype - they're both part of your identity! Vampirism is heavily linked to alternative music & subcultures.

Create a Moodboard: This is easy enough to do in Canva or most mobile collaging apps! I recommend using pinterest to find your images. This is one of my favourite ideas because you can make a 3x3 square moodboard & add it as your spotify playlist cover!

Design Your Own Kin Flag: Kin pride flags are very popular on tumblr. There's probably an already existing one for your kintype, but a custom kin flag has a special personal connection & the colours can have relevance to you!

Make a Kinsona: A Kinsona is like a fursona but for your kintype! It's an original character with the species of your kin. If you're into roleplay, that can be a great way to foster a connection. If you're part of the voidpunk community, you can also make a voidsona!

Support or Donate to Animal Sanctuaries: Sort of in the title for this one. This is usually a tip for therians & similar but I think bat sanctuaries would be relevant to vampirekin. Support can just look like following them online! It gives them reach & you get to see cute animals.

Vampirekin Tips:

Raw Meat & Blood Diet: Obviously human blood and raw meat isn't a viable option here! @/forests-creatures created a good list of alternatives: Beef jerky, rare steaks, safe raw salmon & dried fruits. For sweet options, I'd say the red tongue-staining lollipops could work, as well as pink or red chocolate & red popping candy. You can also add red food colouring to existing food. Please research that what you're eating is safe beforehand! Tumblr is not a reliable resource. I took this list from my zombiekin tips - it's proving pretty good for most monsterkins!

Wear Sunglasses & Sunhats or Gloves & Scarves: You're a vampire! You can't be going out in the sun! Incorporating day-to-day human protection against the weather is a good way to stay safe. There are some really cool tinted and bat shaped sunglasses out there if you know where to look.

Make a Necklace of Your Home Soil: In old vampire legends, if a vampire went abroad or travelled long distances they would need to bring some of their home soil with them. Online you can buy fairly afforable vial necklaces! Go to your garden or local park & scoop a little dirt in.

Gear: The obvious gear for vampires is of course fake fangs - these should be a little easier to find now we're into spooky season. However, I've also seen biting fidget/sensory toys (often in the form of charms or necklaces) be recommended!

Spend Time Outside @ Night: It's definitely not safe or recommended to go walking around alone at night, however there are alternatives! You can always sit in your garden or do what I do (as a werewolfkin) and sit near your window to moonbathe. Taking friends or family stargazing is also great fun! There are apps you can get that will locate the constellations around you.

Hopefully a couple of these were helpful!! ❤️

[thelaurenshippen]

finally taking the time to read through the SAG agreement summary and oof, I hope they have an AI town hall soon because...well, there are things to discuss!

so, in case folks are curious, here are my immediate takeaways from the deal as a SAG actor, a SAG producer, and person who is not any kind of expert but spends a lot of time being skeptical of contracts I sign. this is a summation/commentary, not a holistic breakdown of every point, nor even an in-depth discussion of the points I do talk about. and it is, of course, in no way legal advice or voting advice.

this post is already maybe the longest post I've ever written on tumblr (lol) and I feel like I've barely scratched the surface. to be clear, nothing I'm saying here represents how I'm going to vote, how I think other actors should vote, or my be-all-end-all stance on a particular issue. this is me reading through, flagging what concerns me, and asking myself questions. and I'm here to take your questions too! though of course my expertise is limited.

(what?? something I wrote got annoying long?? in my tumblr? it's more likely, etc. huge write-up after the cut)

the good

self-tape stuff: this is one of the more niche/the thing that the general public will find least interesting, but they've put in a lot of provisions to make sure self-tape auditions have limits (# of pages, no stunts, no nudity, doesn't have to be professionally shot, etc.) which is amazing because these types of auditions have gotten out of control since the pandemic. this feels like a great gain

data transparency: in no world did I think the streamers were ever going to agree to any data sharing with either the wga or sag so even though the data is limited, this still feels huge to me.

folks who sing and dance will be paid for both of those things now, which is great

they've added MLK day and Juneteenth as holidays (about time)

a performer cannot be required to translate their own lines

principal performers are required to be given hair and makeup consultation or reimbursed for obtaining their own services - this seems like a small thing, but it's being put in here pretty much entirely because HMU services have generally been appalling when it comes to textured hair/a variety of skin tones. there's also stuff in here about working to hire more diverse HMU artists

it looks like it's going to be easier/provide a path for folks getting IMDb credits even if they're not credited on screen

miscellany: there's a bunch of gains in wage increases, P&H increases, relocation fees, franchise language etc. that all seem good to me, though my limited knowledge on those subjects prevents me from going in depth on them.

this is not important, but it tickled me, there's a term to replace all instances of "telegraph" in the contract with "email & text" which like...why has it taken us thirty years to do that lol.

the "...hm..."

intimacy coordinators: oof. when I watched the press conference SAG gave, I was fucking thrilled when they said that the new agreement required folks to hire intimacy coordinators for nudity and simulated sex scenes. that was almost reason enough for me to vote for it tbh - not requiring it is the exact reason I voted no on our last contract. however, reading the contract summary now, the exact language is: "Producer must use best efforts to engage an Intimacy Coordinator for scenes involving nudity or simulated sex and will consider in good faith any request by a performer to engage an Intimacy Coordinator for other scenes. Producer shall not retaliate against a performer for requesting an Intimacy Coordinator." this....sucks. "best efforts" and "good faith" are not the same as "required". IMO, an intimacy coordinator is the same thing as having a stunt coordinator or, like, any number of health and safety requirements. OSHA doesn't say you must "in good faith" put your "best effort" to providing fire exits. it's great that performers can request coordinators for any kind of scene, and this is still the strongest language we've ever had in a contract but....c'mon guys.

residuals: look, I can't speak to these new terms in any concrete way. there are increases, there are bonuses for streaming success, there's a whole thing about a fund regarding those successes that I need explained to me more in depth, but overall, it looks like we made some in-roads here. as someone who employs actors under digital distribution contracts that has no residuals (podcasts), I know how genuinely cumbersome the unholy trifecta of "views-success-profit" can be (as in views do not equal success, success does not equal profit, etc.). I also have no sympathy when the majority of companies dealing with that cumbersome trifecta are massive media conglomerates. anyway, long story short, idk if this is good enough, I'm hoping to attend the next info meeting sag has.

the bad

the new hair/makeup provisions are explicitly for principal actors. while I hope it leads to better, more inclusive HMU services all around I haaaate that this implies supporting or background actors (who oftentimes also have to sit in HMU) don't deserve the consideration. (then again, background actors are usually required to do their own HMU/bring their own costumes, but for productions where that's not the case, the same HMU provisions should apply IMO)

as with every contract, there's language that could be stronger, clarity that needs to exist, and important things missing - but this isn't the final contract and I'm not a lawyer, so I'm gonna leave that stuff to the experts.

but, "lauren", you say, "what about all the AI stuff? where does that go?" well, reader, I was planning on including that in the above but it's the hot-button issue right now and I think it's wickedly complicated, so I wanted to break it down separately, after I had a chance to point out all the good-bad-in-between stuff that's not getting talked about.

a note: in my career, I've learned there's two big things to keep in mind when reading a contract you might sign:

what is the worst case interpretation of this language (thank you to my lawyer, prince among men, for teaching me how to do this in practice (that said, anything I say here is not legal advice, he'd also want me to say that lol))

what are you willing to lose/compromise on/what are the limits of your pragmatism? contracts are not about a company giving you everything you want out of the goodness of their heart - it is always a compromise. pragmatism has to be a part of the equation.

so, with that said, I'm going to play a little devil's advocate here, and a) try to find the good/the pragmatic and b) catastrophize the worst case scenario. but first, it might be handy to look at this SAG infographic for some basic definitions. let's go.

the AI good

a ton of stuff here requires consent. that is not a small thing, and the consent continues even after your death (whether it was a yes or no; though this can be complicated by your estate/your union)

the language does establish that the consent must be a separate signing from the employment contract, even if its in the contract, which is great (but more on that below - timing matters)

actors often do get paid for use of their digital replicas, though it's different based on the use/type of replica.

the actor must be provided with a "reasonably specific description of the intended use". this language is vaguer than I would like, because it allows producers to decide what "reasonably specific" and "intended" means - there's always going to be some vagueness when it comes to this specific thing, but a good start would be for producers to require not blanket consent, but conditional consent for each significant use of digital replicas.

if the replicas are being used in other mediums, that must also be consented to, thank god.

replicas cannot be used in place of background actor counts on a given day - if I'm understanding this correctly, this means a production can't just have a bunch of fake background actors by themselves, they have to engage real people up to a certain number first (which in this new contract is 25 for TV and 85 for movies). we're already filling in background with digital people or copy-pasting of the same crowd over and over and have been doing so since at least the late 90s, so it's good we're continuing to put up boundaries around that.

the AI "...hm..."

it's unclear (to me) when an actor can be asked to consent. IMO, everything is meaningless if the consent is happening as part of regular contract negotiations. these things have to happen when - and only when - the actor has already been engaged in a role and feels empowered to say no

the use of independently created replicas (replicas pulled from existing footage, not created by the actor) being allowed without consent under first amendment reasoning - this is obviously concerning a lot of people bc first amendment arguments are so broad. that said, there's a pragmatism part of me that understands this is already happening/has been happening for a while and used in ways I think are perfectly fine - I was just watching the new episode of For All Mankind (one of the best TV shows right now!) and it's an alternate history, which meant that in the opening scenes of this season they had some bonkers good deep fakes of Al Gore saying stuff he never said. I think that's okay to do in a fiction show that imagines a different US history! "but Lauren", you might be saying, "Al Gore isn't a member of SAG!" are you sure? are you positive? because I'm pretty certain he is - he was in several episodes of 30 Rock, way more people are in SAG than you think (every NPR reporter for instance), and the two worst presidents we've had in the last 50 years (yes, those ones), are both definitely members of SAG (even if one is dead). now, the other side of this is that public figures like politicians are under a different social contract than actors, and if they wanted to sue, they could, unlike the average SAG actor who might have their image abused. this is why this is in the "hm" column - deep fakes and parody/satire/commentary use of replicas is already here and there's always going to be a 1st amendment argument to make, so we need to figure out how best to limit those and protect the most vulnerable.

alteration: with this language, a project can digitally alter without consent if the script and performance stays "substantially" the same. again, this language is too mealy-mouthed. I don't know that I have a huge problem with a line of dialogue getting replaced with a digital version of that actors voice if, for instance, a word was mispronounced, or wind garbled the sound or whatever - yes, it would eliminate the need for ADR, but if we put some limit on it like..."if there are more than 5 lines in a given episode/movie that require digital alteration in the service of clarity, the actor must be engaged for an ADR session or paid for the digital replacement" then I could see this being workable. I'm also personally okay with things like costumes being digitally altered but, again, we need limitations on that. digital altering cannot replace the art of costuming but, for instance, if a costume needs to be altered to include a hate symbol or something, I think that's fine (example: I have friends who worked at the VFX house for an alternate history TV show that involved a lot of Nazi costuming and set design - a huge part of that VFX house's job was to put swastikas in places, rather than props making nazi flags. I'm okay with that!) but again, these fringe cases do not a compelling arugment make, and this contract language can be interpreted too broadly for my comfort! like everything else in this "hm" category, I need to see the final contract language to decide.

the AI bad

there's a bunch of circumstances in which actors don't get paid for creating their replica/use of it and those circumstances are too broad for my taste.

synthetic performers - this is just awful. no. no, we should not be allowing AI to generate entire actors. just............no. there's some language about the producers having to talk to the union if the synthetic performer is "used in place of a performer who would have been engaged under this Agreement in a human role" but this doesn't apply to non-human characters so....wouldn't that be all roles?? leaving the producers room to be like "this role has to be synthetic, we never would've cast a human!" is bullshit. also, even if we're having AI create a magical talking unicorn whole cloth (which, like, also no, we have artists for this), that unicorn still needs to be voiced by a human person. this whole section is a disaster.

the exceptions to consent for digital alteration are bad-bad. I talked about the potential ADR replacement above and that has a whole host of issues with it that I didn't even get into, but I can see the argument. the rest are very troubling:

there is an exception under "any circumstance when dubbing or use of a double is permitted under the Codified Basic Agreement or Television Agreement" - okay, so does this mean we can replace dubbing artists and stunt performers entirely? this section is about digital alteration, but who's to say alteration couldn't turn an actor broadly miming a fight into an entirely digital, expertly performed fight that usually a stunt double would have done? with AI translation technology, does this mean we're replacing VO artists for dubs entirely? bad!

similarly, "Adjusting lip and/or other facial or body movement and/or the voice of the performer to a foreign language, or for purposes of changes to dialogue or photography necessary for license or sale to a particular market" - Justine Bateman has a great twitter thread on the terrible puppetry potential of this but I want to draw attention to the particular market bit - we all know that selling to china is such a huge part of studios' strategies that they'll remove entire scenes or lines around queer stuff. to me, this clause makes all of that so much easier. I know the argument here is going to be "we can replace swear words and license it for kids!" which.......sure? fine? but, uh, we already have ways to deal with that? and the potential for abuse here is terrifying to me. with all the digital alteration stuff too, there's just so much icky implication for the beauty/body standard to get so much worse.

if a background actor’s digital replica is used in the role of a principal performer, they'll be paid as if they actually performed the days for that role, which, sure, but uhhhh why are we saying it's okay for a digital replica of a background actor to suddenly be a leading role!?!?! I can't think of anything more demoralizing than going to set to act in background (a job I've done! an important job! a fun job a lot of the time! but creatively limited) and then getting a much bigger role (the dream!) and.....not being able to, you know, act that role or be in scenes with other principal actors or do the thing that you've dedicated your life to doing. nightmare stuff.

woof. there's so much more to say but I'm going to leave it there. these are the concerns I'm going to go into SAG's meetings with, and the concerns I'll be considering as I decide how to vote. I know there are things I didn't address and very possibly things I misinterpreted or misrepresented - if you're an actor, I highly recommend a) reading that Justine Bateman thread and b) attending SAG's meetings to ask questions and express your concerns. and I'd love to hear what y'all think! my ask box is open.

[writingstoraes]

world champion 🏆

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reader

type: instagram imagine/social media au

notes: my first insta and f1 imagine! been in a writing slump so i thought id give this a try :]] not proofread nor revised pls expect errors! lmk what u think! also lmk if u wanna be included in my taglist!

about: the favorite couple of the paddock's season-ender posts on instagram!

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55, and 1,056,756 others

yourusername it's been a long and hard season but here you are victorious! congratulations on owning the wdc title, baby 🤍 never doubted you for one second. will never grow tired of cheering for you and being beside you whenever you need me to. you're p1 in my heart forever.

tagged: @charles_leclerc

pierregasly "you're p1 in my heart forever" please delete this what makes you think this was okay

ferrarifan1 idk if pierre is joking but i relate

charles_leclerc Thank you, ma chèrie ❤️ Couldn't have done it without you, you have my heart eternally.

charlespredestinato U GUYS R SO SWEET BYE im gonna bawl my eyes out

scuderiaferrari We'll look forward to seeing Charles' lucky charm next season ❤

carlossainz55 Are you saying im not his goodluck charm?

charles_leclerc Yes Carlos you're not.

yourbrotherusername Congratulations, Charles 🏆 See you back at home!

pascale_leclerc My favorite couple ❤️❤️❤️❤️

charles_leclerc

liked by lewishamilton, arthurleclerc, danielricciardo, and 2,056,901 others

charles_leclerc P1 in the whole world! 🏆 What an amazing season it has been. All the hardwork and rigorous effort poured in this year has definitely paid off. All of this still seems very surreal to me.

My greatest gratitude to the people behind this success - my dear friends, my family who believed in me till I crossed the checkered flag, the passionate fans and of course my angel that served as my anchor throughout the whole season. Je t'aime, yourusername ❤️ See you all next year on the track!

yourusername my world champion 🤍 does this mean i get you all to myself now?

charles_leclerc I'm all yours just like I have always been, chèrie 💋

landonorris THERE ARE CHILDREN ON THIS APP

danielricciardo Ah so is this how he won you over, Y/N?

carlossainz55 So you're a smooth talker and I am a smooth operator, then?

lewishamilton Congratulations, mate! It has been an honor to race with you this season 🏎

scuderiaferrari Well deserved win from the Il Predestinato! ❤️

sebastian_vettel You did amazing, another win for the red team!

arthurleclerc Congrats, bro! Bring me a souvenir home from the trip gifted to you by Y/N 😄

charles_leclerc What trip?

yourusername ARTHUR NO

tagging: @slytherheign my first supporter <3

notes: writing this was so fun but i didnt realize it takes some time lol please let me know what u think by commenting or messaging! i hope the format doesnt get ruined or anything idk sh1t about tumblr formatting so 😭

[chao-thicc-hcs]

If you don’t want to do this it’s completely fine.

I wonder how tr characters would react when they overstimulation yn sm that she used her safe word 🧍🏻‍♀️🤸🏻‍♀️🧍🏻‍♀️ if so, please add sanzu ran baji 🤧🤧👀

a/n: tumblr keeps flagging and labeling my posts, so I will force myself to use "cock", cuz it will deffo be better ☠️

featuring: baji keisukue, sanzu haruchiyo, ran haitani

off to hornyland we go!

↳warning(s): idk

↳ALL CHARACTERS ARE 20+. MINORS DNI

↳reader is afab!

IMPORTANT! ON RAN'S PART, THEY BOTH HAVE TALKED ABOUT THIS BEFORE AND THE READER IS CONSENTING TO THIS!!!!

Baji↷

He was angry today. Much to your own surprise, he wouldn't even soften around you, nor would melt under the way your hands cupped his face and brushed his hair, and he didn't want to talk about his anger. He just wanted to fuck you senseless. And you, of course, didn't mind it.

Shaking under his movements, your eyes almost doing a 360 at how rough he was, your legs felt like giving up and you were on the verge of passing out. Tears were rolling down your cheeks so thick and frequent you could see them dropping on the bedsheets. You were screaming, voice cracking from the amount of pressure you were putting on your vocal chords.

It was all too much, his cock was so immaculately hitting your g-spot, sending waves of pleasure over your entire lower area, his rough hand tugging onto your hair, other one squeezing your hips like you were going to slip away at any second. The bed was shaking, so were you, so was Baji.

-V-vanilla...!- you moaned out, and his movements slowed down. Baji leaned down and whispered in your ear, his eyes filled with worry and his voice softer than before

-Are you okay, dollie? Did I hurt you?

-Ah, no... just...

There was a minute of silence between the two of you as you tried catching your breath and stopping the tears from flowing down. Baji stopped what he was doing and hugged you from behind, placing gentle kisses on your shoulders and massaging your lower abdomen.

-Doll, should we stop here?

-N-no... I was just overstimulated, you were way harsher than usual. I just need a minute to calm down.

-'m sorry...

-Hey, don't stress it, I will be okay, I am calmer now.

Baji nodded and placed you to lay comfortably down once again, inserting his entire length inside of you, making you squirm, still sensitive from before. -'m gonna make you cum now, babydoll, but do tell me if I am too rough again.

-No, be as rough as you can get, my love, I can handle it now.-with your words followed an abrupt increase in his pace, making you arch your back and scratch his back, loud, lewd moans escaping your lips.

-I will make you scream so loud that our neighbors will be knocking on our door.

Sanzu↷

You were supposed to be on a fancy dinner with his gang, chatting and eating inside a lavish restaurant, sitting on a huge, round table with an expensive, velvet tablecloth. Sanzu, however had other plans, and he had you sitting on top of him inside the toilet stall, riding his cock like crazy.

He couldn't take it any longer. How could you wear the sexiest silk dress known to mankind that beautifully hugged your body, emphasizing your tits and ass, and not expect Sanzu to get hard on the spot? Calloused hands roamed around your butt and thighs, wrinkling the once neatly ironed dress you wore, your panties were torn apart and thrown on the ground. Sanzu's face was buried into your tits, sucking and nibbling on them, leaving purple marks and bites, inhaling the remaining scent of your sweet perfume on.

-Just like that, babygirl, gosh - you're taking me so well, you're gonna make me cum so quickly.

He was big, and you barely fit him inside. Your hands were grabbing the fabric of his suit on his shoulders, your lips placed on his forehead, leaving lipstick stains. His thrusts were rough and harsh, the echoes of skin slapping wafting around the bathroom stall. Your hips moved in unison with his, and it felt as if you were seeing stars falling down in front of you. His eyes stared right at yours, smirking and enjoying the way your expressions change with every second he thrusts inside of you.

-M-m, Sanzu... deeper..

He managed to get his entire cock inside, filling you up so good, lewd moans and whimpers escaping your mouth, eyes shut and head arching back, exposing the skin on your neck he immediately latched onto. -You're filling me up so good, shit...-your walls were clenched around his cock, but you didn't want to cum just yet.

-Say it.

-Huh?

-Say the word.

He said in a stern tone, squeezing your ass tightly, leaving crescent marks. You bit your lip, hearing people coming in and out of the bathroom, embarrassed to speak up again, you didn't want to get caught. As soon as it became quiet once again, Sanzu thrusted harshly, hitting your cervix with force.

-Say.it.

-Daddy!-you moaned out, gritting your teeth.

Sanzu was riled up, his pace accelerated, relentlessly hitting your cervix over and over with his long, veiny cock. The light pain mixed with pleasure made your vision go fuzzy, sweat beads going down your forehead, lightly smearing the mascara and eye pencil you were wearing. Your hands were convulsing, your legs were trembling, unable to support your weight anymore.

-P-pe-ach!-you barely finished the word, and your legs gave up, you couldn't move on his lap anymore. Sanzu ceased his movements, letting go of your ass and helping you stand up. The pinknette helped you fix your dress in front of the big mirror in the bathroom, his hands wrapping around your waist in an embrace.

-You did so good, babygirl. Always making me feel so good.-he pulled you in for a gentle kiss, licking your lower lip

-So did you, Sanzu. I was just overstimulated.

-I know, now let's go to the others, or they will get suspicious. And keep your panties off, I will finish you off with my fingers.~

Ran↷

It was around 2AM when Ran woke up from a wet dream, hard and sweaty. You were sleeping, your back facing him, wearing his oversized T-shirt and had his boxers on. The view just made him go insane, to the point where his cock was hurting and already leaking with precum. What a beautiful sight you were.

Ran slowly removed his and the boxers you were wearing, revealing the sight of your pretty pussy in front of him. His mouth filled with saliva, and lightly licked your entrance, just so he can get you wet properly, and his cock found its way inside of you. You just cannot miss how good he filled and stretched you, because he packed in girth. You woke up, a light purr escaping your mouth, still drowsy from the sudden feeling.

-Aw, my kitten has woken up, do you like it when I do this, hm?

Your clit never went unnoticed. His fingers made their way to your sensitive clit, massaging it slowly and sensually. You lifted your leg a little, moving with him. You could feel his breath on your ear as he moaned in a raspy voice, sending chills down your spine. The room was filled with the sinful mixture of moans and skin slapping. Silk sheets wrinkling under your bodies.

As your moans got louder, Ran's hips moved faster and faster, fingers still playing with your clit, stimulating you. His free hand grabbed your neck, squeezing it tightly, making you light-headed and drooling from your mouth. Manipulated under his touch, your drowsiness suddenly disappeared, your eyes widening at how close you were to cumming, but Ran's fingers worked wonders, and his cock was oh so sweetly hitting the spot.

-Ran, rose!-you moaned out and Ran stopped moving.

-What rose, exactly, my kitten?

-...white...

You had your fair share of Ran overstimulating you, and you loved it when he continued while your body convulsed under him, but just in case - white rose meant to continue, red rose meant period is near, and yellow rose meant stop. Ran smirked and his movements continued, but he began slower this time, teasing the living fuck out of you.

-Just you wait, I don't intend to sleep anymore. The night is ours.

©chao-thicc-hcs. reblogs are deeply appreciated, i read all your tags.

[amysubmits]

This is just my gut feeling after being on Tumblr since 2016 so take it or leave it but... I stumble across blogs of people talking about how women are just 3 holes and how 'true subs' don't have limits, how all women are naturally submissive and other nonsense, and I definitely dislike that and hate them being in this community. I have no doubt in my mind that these people harm subs. I don't mean to suggest that these people aren't dangerous - they definitely are.

But I kinda think it might be true that some of the most dangerous ones are far more subtle. Far more manipulative, specifically. I sometimes get this bad gut feeling when I'm on a blog where someone is preaching about how staunchly feminist they are, how deeply they love their sub, how they damn-near worship their sub (or would worship a future sub), how awful stereotypical "tumblr doms" are. They might go on long tirades about respecting women when they get anons asking things like "why would you even ask your sub what their limits are? If you want to facefuck her until she pukes, it's her job just to take it!" or other anon asks that seem...sus to me. And, idk. Something about it just makes me think that at least some of those kinda doms might just be saying "all the right things" just to try to pull in subs. But that's tricky, because of course lots of people just ARE feminist doms, loving doms, doms trying to prioritize the wellbeing of their sub above all else, doms trying to empower their subs. And when that's the case, saying that you're a feminist and that you value subs and respect subs and so on, even saying it frequently and strongly, shouldn't be a red flag. Most of the time when I see a 'healthy dom' post or 'good guy dom' post I don't think twice about it. But then other times my gut just tells me something is OFF about this person. And a big part of me thinks it's that I'm detecting really subtle manipulation.

They may not actually walk the walk, they may just know how to talk the talk of being a feminist, ethical dom while actually being an abusive one or just, shitty one. And if that's the case, they might be capable of a level of manipulation that is REALLY fucking scary.

Another thing that sometimes makes my spidey senses go off is when someone posts a ton of erotic writing or other content but then loudly and routinely proclaims to not be seeking a partner. Maybe they even throw in something like they know they aren't in a healthy enough place to be a dom right now. My gut sometimes says they're trying to claim they don't want a partner, while simultaneously making content to try to reel in a sub, so that they can then damage said sub and go "well, I tried to warn you that I wasn't ready for a sub!"

But - again - maybe my gut is wrong.

I hope I'm wrong. But, this has been on my mind for a while and I thought I'd speak it and let people take it however they wish.

[davidtennantgenderenvy]

Things That Happened At Dallas Fan Expo Day One (P2)

I kept waving my bi flag at people when I liked their cosplays Lauren your autism is showing Jodie Whittaker called me darling oh my gosh she’s precious

I asked her what advice Thirteen and Beth would give each other! She said “never give up hope” and “cherish every moment you get” and I also complimented her on her singing which made her very happy

My first meeting with David was team photo op with Jodie and the second I saw him I kind of collapsed a bit a the next thing I knew he was kind of catching me and holding both my hands and looking me directly in the eyes just beaming down on me the kindest, crinkliest, most sincere smile I’ve seen in my entire life and for all of 20 seconds I felt like the specialest person on the face of the planet

at some point I said “hi I’m Merlin’s girlfriend!!!” And he’s like “oh that’s wonderful!” and then this absolute dork just says “WELL DONE TEAM” David Tennant the man shaped being you are

it was so fun after the photo was taken seeing other people who were doing and about to do the same thing and also going insane and being like “I KNOW RIGHT” like the effect he has on people is unparalleled

met a few tumblr mutuals and people who’ve seen the video essay which was just so cool, thank you so much to everyone i got to see!

things started to go a bit downhill around late afternoon, David’s stuff got incredibly behind which resulted in Jodie’s solo op being incredibly behind, luckily there were loads of lovely nerds to chat with like I’ve never been in a room where this many people are this insane about the same dude

when we FINALLY got in line for David’s autograph he took forever to show up and god bless his poor sweet heart I have no clue how he ever got through all of those people there had to be like a thousand, all of whom stayed after the con had technically closed just to see him. Unfortunately he really couldn’t take his time like he wanted to which meant the questions I had meticulously planned ended up being completely useless and when it was my turn I was a stammering bedraggled mess and the poor thing was too confused to say more than two words at a time and then before I could ask him anything else I was shooed away before I even could process it happened

obviously I was very sadwetpathetic afterwards and my feet were KILLING ME but it’s okay, I get another shot tomorrow! And of course I have to commend David for his incomparable generosity, he is a DIAMOND for staying so long even after the con closed to make sure everyone could get what they paid for.

oh and I kissed my boyfriend for the first time :))) @elsinore-and-inverness