#seriously the entitlement of her fans

[clownacademygraduate]

The fact that Chappell Roan’s fans genuinely believe that being her fan means she owes them her time and attention 24/7 is ridiculous to me

“But she wouldn’t be famous without our support” yeah because you’re listening to her music as a personal favour to her and not for your own enjoyment

“But she’s a millionaire while most of us can barely afford to eat” the existence of people without a privilege doesn’t justify the harassment of those with that privilege. Everyone should have a right to privacy not just the people who are suffering the most

“If she didn’t want this to happen she shouldn’t have became famous” holy victim blaming Batman just because something is common consequence of an action doesn’t make it ok, doesn’t mean the person who did the action deserves it, and doesn’t mean that person has given up their right to complain about it just because they did the action. How many times do we have to go over this

“She should quit being a singer if she wants privacy” if you don’t learn about boundaries I promise you she’ll do just that

[sorcerous-caress]

Early morning cuddling

[Fluff, wholesome, nb!reader]

[Wyll, Lae'zel, Karlach, Minthara]

Part Two

Wyll

The feeling of soft warm breath against your chest is soothing, Wyll's arms are wrapped around your waist with his curled back horns below your neck, safely out of reach.

A quiet squeaking sounds just outside your window, wandering and tapping their beaks gently against the glass, the adoring feathery fans coming to say hello to the prince charming, sleeping in your arms. After all, Wyll has been making a habit of feeding the two mourning doves who made a nest just outside your shared bedroom. It's a good omen, he claims.

But he's sleeping so peacefully in your embrace, it almost feels like a crime to wake him up. Despite how adorable his morning grumpiness can be, sometimes blue blood just never washes off no matter how much Wyll claims he is a humble man of the blade.

The pure cotton sheets and featherly pillows below you say otherwise, but who are you to argue with Wyll-can't sleep unless it's on a 2000 thread count sheets-Ravengard

Calling his name, you cup his face in your hand as he leans into it. Nuzzling into the warmth of your balm as you tell him it's time to wake up. His lips meet the soft skin on inside of your hand and gently give it a small kiss. Mismatched eyes fluttering open with difficulty as he battles through the sleepiness, finally meeting your gaze.

You let him cuddle up to you, the lazy morning weather is really mellowing out your mind and making all the responsibilities awaiting you pale in comparison to staying here on this soft bed, wrapped in your beloved's arms.

Wyll seems to share a similar idea, the hero of frontier happily indulging in the sin of sloth so openly, if only you had a necklace of pearls to clutch right now. Alas, you let this handsome devil lure you back into taking a nap together, ignore the calling of the sun outside your curtains, for the world can await.

♡

Lae'zel

She's awake much before you, only when the sound of running water stirs you awake do you realise the empty spot on the bed besides you.

Lae'zel took her morning training very seriously, slipping away before the sun was up to keep both her body and mind in shape. When the fading stars in the sky are her only companions through her long jogs, a reminder of a home she once knew.

A test of self-will to resist the allure of sleep each morning.

To resist the allure of you on her bed.

Which is why she feels entitled to your touch the second she's finished with her shower, you're the prize she has rightfully earned. Drying off her damp skin as she watches you with keen eyes, noticing the way your eyes linger on each droplet she wipes off of her body.

Finishing drying her hair, Lae'zel finally joins you on the bed after what felt like long hours of torture that realistically only amounted to ten minutes tops.

She smells absolutely divine, her hair is so soft as you run your fingers through it, using it to guide her face closer to yours. Her lips taste just as sweet as her scent, with a hint of toothpaste.

But a kiss is all that you have the stamina for. You can't make it to the second kiss before dozzing off again, mind clouded by the comfort her presence brings. The unspeakable safety you feel in her arms, knowing that she would let nothing in this world ever lay a finger on you.

Even after so many years, she still keeps her sword sharp, just so your fingertips may grow softer each day. Because you at this moment, dozzing off in her arms in the early morning, is what she's fights for everyday.

The two of you stay under the warm blanket, Lae'zel has never felt a greater sense of belonging than in your embrace.

♡

Karlach

Her beloved teddy bear, Clive, is squished between the two of you.

Karlach decided that your arms were at the safest place for the second most treasured thing in her life. Whilst she got to hold you in her own arms, it's a win-win deal.

Wearing very little clothes while sleeping, her engine hums with a soft night-light red glow. Since fixing it, it's become much easier to fall asleep by her side without its blazing light and loud churning, now it's more akin to a glowing amber beneath her skin that you could easily miss in the morning light.

You still grew fond of that hum, the low metallic melody that spelled a promise of a second chance at life to her, to return back what was stolen. Rewind the time and tend to the wounds.

As far as Karlach was concerned, she was living the dream. Sure, fighting had its merits, but nothing could compare to the steady sway of a mundane life. As safe as a baby in a cradle, she relished in every peaceful sleep she was granted by your side.

Her horn was growing in again, the broken one, you noticed that when it started lightly scratching the side of your neck in the early morning. You made a mental note to have a talk with Karlach about changing the sleeping arrangements, after throwing a small celebration for her horn.

Maybe you'll get her a pie from that bakery she likes, it's only a few houses away from where you lived in this small community. And the flower lady did say she got a new batch of sunflowers coming in today, it looks like lady fortune was smiling your way today.

Her strong arms made you feel safe, protected, and loved. Her legs tangled with yours under the cover as she held you tighter.

Peppering small kisses down face, you started with her forhead, just below her horns, and then moved to her closed eyelids, below her eyes, on her cute nose and cheeks.

Finally meeting her lips, just before you could pull away from what was supposed to be a gentle quick smooch, Karlach pushed you on your back and pressed her lips against yours, deepening the kiss and not allowing you the chance to slip away from her hold.

Greedily eating up all of the small noises slipping out of you, her firey eyes met yours as the kiss kept going for a minute before she finally pulled back breathless.

"Damn that's the best way to wake up." She let out with a smug grin, arms roaming your body while her lips meet your neck, a kiss after another.

But they were too light, sleep still clouded her mind as what was supposed to be passionate, neck kissing, turned into a tickling sensation against your neck that made you chuckle.

Karlach seemed a bit embarrassed by her clumsy skills, but she took it in stride and laughed it off, settling for one final taste to your lips before laying on her back and pulling you on top of her. Manhandling you so early in the morning as if you were her personal teddy bear to cuddle up with in whatever position she wished to.

♡

Minthara

It's peaceful, too peaceful for her liking. Not that she ever falls asleep to begin with.

And yet she finds herself following you to bed, joining in this routine nightly as if it was her second nature to do so. Like a guard dog would see you to the front door of your house whenever you were getting ready to go out, waiting at the doorsteps until your arrival.

You don't think she'd appreciate this euphemism if you spoke it out loud, so you keep to yourself, even when you find her waiting for you in front of the house one day when you took a little too late to come home.

With a book in her hand and the reading glasses replacement number forty-six that she will surely misplace or break before the week ends, Minthara retires to her side of the bed next to you.

You'd be lying if you said that her presence didn't help ease your mind, that the sound of pages turning didn't help lull you into dreams. She doesn't meditate during those hours either, prefering to do it for a couple hours during the day when your wide awake.

Maybe it's for safety, why she is so keen on watching over your helpless form. An old habit that came from surviving drow society, making sure no one can ever catch both of you off guard at the same time.

She's in the same place when you wake up, her hair a bit more of a mess with her fingers flipping the book to its final pages, red eyes scanning the writing with care as she takes in the information. They were always in drow language, you wondered what kind did she read? Fiction or nonfiction? Novels or science books? History or biographies?

The only thing you could make out on the pages was the small scribble at the edges of stray pages, where Minthara marked where she last left off with a pen, rather than using the various bookmarks she's been gifted.

The more you focused on the scribble, the more it looked like a tiny spider with way too many legs, but your wife simply refuse to acknowledge that whenever you wondered about it aloud.

Stretching your arms above your head, your back weighted down comfortably on the silk sheets that Minthara insisted on getting. Bright lavender in colour and unbelievably smooth against your skin, like sleeping on top of a cloud.

Seeking attention, you moved closer to her until your head was on her lap, she was sitting with her back leaning against the headboard. Her hand quickly found your neck and softly traced her fingers down your skin, settling on the nape of your neck before giving it a comfortable squeeze to massage your sore muscles.

Her hands felt...heavenly, she always know where to touch you to get the exhumation out. What body points were the most prone to stress, even now her paladin training is still engraned into her soul.

Minthara's touches always held a clear declaration of possessiveness in them, a hunger that may never be sated to own you, body and soul. She embraces you as if you were her lovers in various past lives.

The sound of a pen clicking before a small scribble is added to the edge of the page in front of you is your sign to start the day. Minthara closes the book as her full attention is directed at you, a hungry look in her eyes.

Actual hunger, mind you. You see, princesses never learn how to cook, not to mention drow women nobility, and she has been waiting all night on an empty stomach so this is your sign to prepare breakfast, be it store-bought or homemade, she never makes a fuss.

Although she does make a mean cup of coffee, if you happened to like charcoal as a drink, that is. Drows had to improvise in the underdark with no coffee beans after all. Although what use would an elf have of an energy drink? You're not sure.

♡

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

How’s Your Head? | Bucky Barnes x Reader

This has been in my WIP forever and I finally finished it. Once again, I am looking for a soft, kind, Bucky Barnes to take care of me and flirt with me. Is that so much to ask?🥲

This is slightly longer than my usual stuff, just FYI. The WC is 7280. And yes the title is a Drag Race reference. 😂

Warnings: reader injury (not severe), creepy men (jail), blood, vomit, flirting, fluff🫶

Bucky didn’t like the staring. The eyes that seemed to follow him everywhere he went. The old woman just a few seats down from him leered at him almost aggressively, like she hoped looks could kill. And though this was a common occurrence, it still rubbed him the wrong way.

“Another adoring fan…” Bucky thought. 

He shifted side to side along with the rocking of the subway car and did his best to ignore her gaze- but couldn’t stand it any longer. He gave her a nod and a small, forced smile before heading for the adjoining subway car. Hopefully, he’d find an empty seat free from gawkers and onlookers.

But when he opened the door to the next car, he didn’t find the peace and quiet he’d hoped for.

“I’m not interested…” you said to the creepy guy sitting next to you.

“Oh, come on,” the man insisted. “Don’t be so uptight, sugar.” He rested a hand on your thigh and gave your leg a squeeze, his fingers digging into your flesh.

“Fuck off, dude. Seriously?” You banished his hand and stood from your seat, “eat glass, asshole.”

But as you tried to make your getaway, the man grabbed you by the wrist. He pulled you close as you struggled in his grip, his face only inches from yours. “Maybe you should learn some fuckin’ manners,” he threw you to the ground, your head striking the floor.

Bucky flew into a blind rage. He made quick work of your assailant, nearly removing the man’s head from his body. And with the entitled dickhead desperately escaping to another subway car, Bucky made his way to your side. 

“Hey, are you alright?” 

You sat on the floor, slightly dazed. A thick fog settled into every corner of your mind and your ears stung with a sharp ringing. “Yeah, I’m good. Didn’t hurt that bad,” you lied. Yet another interaction with an unknown man. Yes, he’d shooed away your creeper, but you wanted to be left alone. No more strange men, no more men pretending to be “one of the good guys” before showing their true self. 

If you could convince this random guy that you were okay, maybe he wouldn’t bother you. Maybe you’d be able to make it home without being touched by another strange hand. “Thanks for asking, but I’m-”

“Oh- you’re bleeding”. Only then did you notice the rush of warmth running down the back of your neck. Bucky yanked the jacket from his body and reached for your bloodied skull before quickly recoiling. “Erm, can I?” 

You nodded- the motion made you wince.

With cautious hands, he used his jacket to hold pressure to your wound. He stared down at you with genuine concern, his brow furrowed with worry. 

After a few moments, most of the fog cleared and brought you screeching back to reality. The reality in which a man you’d never met held his jacket to your bleeding scalp as you sat on the floor of a subway car. Pain pulsed beneath his touch and shot through your head. Warm blood dripped down your neck. But you didn’t care- all you wanted was to move.

Bucky watched as you struggled to get up and instantly tried to stop you. “Hey, careful. I don’t think-”

“I don’t wanna be on this floor any longer than I have to,” you did your best to stand, but the dizziness sabotaged your efforts. “People do weird shit on the train. I’d probably sitting in someone’s pee.” 

Bucky gave it a thought and instantly reconsidered his cautioning. “Ew. Yeah. You’re right,” the disgusted look on his face nearly made you laugh out loud. He thought back on all the questionable and downright nasty things he’d seen on the subway- he didn’t want you on that floor. “May I?” He offered you his free hand and got you safely into a seat. 

“Which stop is yours?” He asked, settling into the chair next to you. And though he seemed like a perfect gentleman, you gave him a suspicious glance. 

“Oh- I didn’t mean that in a ‘where do you live, I’m gonna follow you home’ type of way. More like, ‘how many stops do you have left before you can go get some rest?’ type of way”

You let out a laugh that sent pain pulsing behind your eyes. Maybe this stranger wasn’t so bad. “Um, I still have like five to go. I think. I’m coming all the way from Coney Island.” 

“Coney Island, huh?” A rush of memories hit Bucky like a train. Riding the cyclone with Steve and watching him puke. Spending all his money to win a stuffed animal for some redhead he had a crush on. 

“Yeah, I got to hang out with a girl I know from college. Haven’t seen her in a while and she’s never been out there. It was actually a pretty great day until that asshole cracked my head open…”

Bucky grimaced. He pulled his jacket from your scalp to give the wound another look, only to be greeted by a continuous flow of blood. “I think you should probably go to the ER. You might need stitches. And there’s a good chance you have a concussion.” 

You shot him only a nonchalant shrug, “I’m not worried about it. Plus, I don’t feel like going into debt so they can give me two Tylenol and an ice pack”.

Bucky liked your sense of humor, your wit. How you could be cheeky and sarcastic after being accosted surprised him. But he clocked the tension in your shoulders, the worry in your eyes. You were uneasy. Your glance darted from one end of the subway car to the other every few seconds; he knew you had to be searching for your assailant. Or the next man who wanted to touch you without permission.

“Hey, would you rather take a cab home?” Bucky said, pulling you from your anxious spiral. “I don’t blame you if you don’t want to ride the train after what happened.”

“Oh, um…”

“I’m not inviting myself home with you-” Bucky shook his head. He was cute when he got flustered. “I just mean, I’ll pay for you to take a cab if you’re uncomfortable.”

How you seemed to meet both the bottom of the barrel and the crème de le crème of men back-to-back nearly gave you whiplash. But this handsome stranger had done enough; you couldn’t let him pay for your ride home. “That’s- wow, that’s really sweet. But you don’t have to. It’s okay.”

“What if I want to? You seem uneasy… like you’re waiting for him to come back.”

You nodded.

“Then let’s get you a cab, alright? Next stop, we’re outta here.” He shot you a wink before once again reassuring you that he was not going to follow you home. “Is there someone who can keep an eye on you, though? Like I said, you probably have a concussion. And if your roommate or, um, significant other can sit with you for the rest of the night, that would be a good idea. Head injuries are no joke.”

“Well, I don’t have a significant other,” you almost laughed. “And my roommate’s out of town. She was supposed to get back around sevenish, but her flight got crazy delayed because of weather- now she’s not getting home for a few hours.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. He checked his watch and saw that it was only 8:04pm. He needed someone to sit with you for the rest of the night. Just in case something happened, you’d need a friend or loved one by your side. And if you didn’t have someone there with you, Bucky knew he’d spend the remainder of his evening worrying about the cute stranger he met on the train. 

Just then, the subway stopped. Bucky offered you his arm and guided you onto the platform and up the stairs- all while keeping his jacket in place against your wound. Getting away from the train eliminated your unease. No longer were you trapped in the tiny space, your blood staining the floor. You had an escort in the form of a good samaritan, and a ride that would get you home without any further abuse.

 But when Bucky hailed you a cab, your anxiety resurfaced.

“Hey, um…” you eyed the car as it approached, “Would you- do you mind riding with me?”

Bucky cocked his head to the side. 

“I don’t know- I’m just a little nervous and I don’t really wanna be in a cab alone with another random man,” you said. “I know it’s probably inconvenient for you- I’ll pay for your ride home from my place.” The taxi neared the curb and stopped in front of you, sending your unease into overdrive. “Do you mind?”

Bucky clocked your wide eyes and shaking hands. Sure, you made jokes and sarcastic quips about what happened. But deep down, you were shaken. And he wanted to help in any way he could. “Not at all- I get it,” he gave you a reassuring look, “and you don’t have to pay for my ride. Let’s just get you home, alright?”

He held the door open for you and helped you into the cab before sliding in behind you- his hand still attached to your bloody skull. The ride was quiet, save for the honking of horns and cursing drivers. But having Bucky with you for the duration eased your discomfort. 

“So, is there anyone you can call to come look after you?” Bucky asked after a while, “A friend, a neighbor, a family member?”

“I don’t really have any friends,” you said. “But not in a ‘I’m a loser and can’t make friends’ kind of way, I promise.” Bucky laughed. You liked his laugh. “I’m just still kinda new here. And all my family lives in across the country. Plus, I only know two of my neighbors. One of them is an old man who always tell me my skin looks ‘so soft’-”

Bucky’s nose wrinkled, “Ew…"

“Yeah. And the other is this girl who told me to shut the fuck up because she thinks my footsteps are too loud? So yeah, I don’t have many connections here yet.”

He sensed a little embarrassment staining your words and aimed to make you feel better, “Well I’ve lived here for quite some time, and I don’t have any friends, either.” 

That didn’t seem possible to you. He was so likable. Quiet, yet endearing. And certainly, a gentleman. He made you feel safe. You wondered how his girlfriend would react when she found out he took another woman home. 

Bucky found himself wondering how you didn’t have swaths of friends. Even after your harrowing experience on the train, you were so charming. Funny. Sweet. It was even harder for him to believe you didn’t have a love interest to go home to. But after what he’d witnessed tonight, he didn’t blame you for keeping to yourself. 

“What part of town do you live in?” You did your best to conceal the optimism in your voice, the hoped that he lived close by. It was embarrassing how smitten you were with this man.

“Brooklyn,” Bucky said. “I’ve lived there for a while- save for some years I spent, um, away.”

Brooklyn. Nothing a quick train ride couldn’t solve. Though you weren’t too keen on the subway after the night’s events. “Well, tell your girlfriend that I apologize for keeping you so long.”

“I don’t have one,” Bucky said. Things inside the cab fell quiet.

“Oh. Well, do you-” you second guessed yourself, but decided to push through. “Do you want to stay with me until my roommate gets home? You know, since you’re so worried about me and my possible concussion and my lack of friends.”

Bucky stopped breathing. “Oh, um. Sure. Yeah. If that’s- if that’s alright. You sure you’re okay inviting a stranger into your house?”

“Well, you’re not really a stranger, Sergeant Barnes”. You shot him a wink.

An immediate ringing filled Bucky’s ears. He didn’t know what to say, how to react.

The rest of the ride was quiet. Bucky’s mind echoed with the sound of your voice referring to him by name. He liked the way it sounded coming from you. But he hated that you knew who- and what- he was. And when the cab turned onto your street and stopped in front of your apartment, he nearly panicked. He reconsidered his agreement to stay with you. But you didn’t seem to mind having the ex-Winter Soldier so close. And he didn’t want you to be alone with a head injury.

Against his better judgement, he followed you to the front door of your building. 

“My great aunt actually lived here back in the fifties,” you told Bucky as you fumbled for your keys. Bucky wondered how you could tell casual stories while dealing with a head injury and an ex-assassin. But as you continued to speak, he realized that he didn’t quite hear what you’d said. He was still reeling from your mention of his name. 

And then he noticed you struggling. You were dizzy after cracking your head open, and a slight shaking rendered your hands almost useless. No matter how many times you tried, you couldn’t seem to finagle the key into the lock. 

“Um, do you want some help?” He gestured to your keys and allowed you to drop them into his free hand. He pushed the old door open with a loud creak and escorted you inside the lobby- his hand still resting on the back of your head. It was quiet while the two of you waited for the ancient elevator to roar to life. And when the doors finally opened, he guided you inside and watched you press the ‘5’ button.

“So… how’d you know it was me?” He asked as the elevator slowly climbed to your floor.

“Well, when I first saw you, I thought you looked kinda familiar. But I couldn’t place you”. You laughed a quiet, bashful laugh, “Then you knelt down next to me, and I thought I was gonna pass out- but not from the head trauma. You just you have like, the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.” The head injury had you a bit loopy, a little too honest. Too confident. “I knew I’d seen those eyes before… and then it clicked. You were so chivalrous, you know? So old fashioned. I mean, who uses their own jacket to stop a stranger’s head wound from bleeding?” 

Bucky shrugged. His cheeks flushed pink.

“I read a book a few years ago about Captain America and his efforts during World War II. And there was a huge portion about Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes… And that’s where I’d seen those eyes.” You flashed him a dramatic wink, “Truth be told, it was my favorite part of the book.”

A shy laugh made its way out of Bucky’s mouth, “Is that so?”

The elevator lurched to a stop and nearly sent you tumbling to the floor. You’d gotten used to the clunky machine since moving into the building, but your sabotaged equilibrium didn’t stand a chance against it. Bucky caught you in a careful, protective grasp before you could tip over. He gently righted you and searched your face for any indicators of discomfort. 

“You alright?”

“All good, Sergeant Barnes.” You gave him a salute.

He rolled his eyes and escorted you into the hall, “you can just call me Bucky, if you like.”

“Okay, Bucky-” you said with a smile, “follow me.” You lead him in the direction of your apartment- with his jacket still plastered to your scalp. The man was determined to help you. You’d give him that.

You once again needed his assistance when it came to unlocking your front door. But when Bucky got the door open, he just stood there. He didn’t go inside. He held the door for you and insisted you go ahead, finally peeling the jacket from your wound. He knew he didn’t belong here.

You noticed how tentative he was about entering your home and beckoned him inside. “You can come in…” you said. “Are super soldiers like vampires? Do y’all need an invitation?”

Bucky laughed, “No. I just… I don’t do this kind of thing very often.”

“Oh, you don’t accompany injured women home from the subway on a weekly basis? I’m shocked.”

You flipped on the light and let the warm glow reveal your apartment. Bucky admired the art covering your walls, the books lining your shelves, the smell of some kind of baked goods lingering in the air. This place was cozy, welcoming. Nothing like his apartment.

While he was distracted drinking in the details of your home, you gave his jacket a once over. Blood coated the leather and smeared the lining. It was enough to make you nauseous.  “Sorry about this mess… here, let me clean it up for-”

“It’s leather- I’m not worried about it,” Bucky shrugged. “I’ll just wipe it off later.”

“Ew, I think that’s considered a biohazard, Sarge.”

Bucky’s laugh echoed through your home- you liked the sound of his voice bouncing around your space. “Well, lucky for me, I’m not susceptible to biohazards. So, really, it’s not a big deal.” He shot you a wink and hung his bloody jacket on the back of a chair. “Let me take a look at your head.”

He gently moved your hair out of the way enough to expose your wound. He was as careful as he possible not to hurt you or make things worse. And using the dish towel you offered him, he wiped away enough blood to get a good look. 

“It’s big, but not deep enough to warrant stitches. And it looks like the bleeding has finally come to a stop.” 

“Perfect. I’m gonna go take a shower” you said. “Make yourself at home. You’re welcome to anything in the fridge, except the kombucha. My roommate will murder you if you drink her kombucha.”

Bucky didn’t even know what kombucha was. “Are- are you sure you wanna go shower?”

“Um, yeah. Gotta get the subway-floor germs off me,” you gave a dramatic shudder. “Some of us are, indeed, susceptible to biohazards.”

“That’s fair,” he laughed, “I’m just a little worried about your balance… I think it’s probably seen better days.”

He wasn’t wrong. The floor did indeed seem to dip and shift under you unsuspecting feet. The room spun on occasion. The walls wiggled. But you needed to get cleaned up. “I’ll be extra careful. Promise.” You offered him your pinky and made him link his with yours. “But I have more blood in my hair than anyone should- I need a shower.” You left Bucky alone in your living room with a promise to be back soon.

It was strange for him, being in a stranger’s home like this. He didn’t get invited places or have friends to hang out with. He had Sam- and that was it. And while Sam was great, he never felt quite like this at Sam’s apartment. Something about your place warmed him, made him feel a little lighter. Or maybe it was you. Who was he kidding? Of course, it was you.

But Bucky knew this feeling couldn’t last. In a few hours, your roommate would return and send him home. And that would be the end of it. Of course, he’d be thrilled to see you again under better circumstances. But assuming he’d get that chance would only lead to disappointment. And so, as he waited for you to finish your shower, he did his best to remember this feeling just in case it was the last time.

“I said make yourself at home and you didn’t even sit down!” you said when you emerged from the bathroom. You found Bucky in the living room with his hands in his pockets, admiring your things as though he were in a museum. Looking, never touching. “Relax a little, sarge. The couch is really comfy, I promise.”

Bucky liked the way you looked with your skin still slightly damp form the shower, your hair wet and a little messy. “Oh, yeah- I just got distracted looking at all your…” he gestured to your bookcase, “your books and your tchotchkes. You have good taste- I like that you have two copies of Fellowship of the Ring.”

“Well, my sister dropped one of them in the lake at summer camp when we were kids…” you pointed to the faded cover and worn spine of the book in question. “She took a hairdryer to it and it’s mostly fine, but my mom made her get me a replacement. I just can’t seem to part with this one, though.” You plucked your water-damaged copy of Fellowship of the Ring from the shelf and flipped through the pages, “too much sentimental value. You know?

Bucky felt a small smile creeping upward- you didn’t mind damaged goods. Maybe you’d want to see him again after all. 

“Can I get you a drink or something? I have water, tea, La Croix, wine…” you looked at him expectantly. 

“Oh, no I’m okay-”

“Well, I’m going to the fridge for some water anyway, so you’re not saving me a trip…” you shot him a wink and began your trek to the kitchen. He followed in your footsteps, too much of a gentleman to let you fetch him a drink. And though he didn’t know what La Croix was, he took the one you offered him with a smile.

He followed you yet again, but to the couch this time. He sat a respectful distance away- as respectful as your small couch would allow- and taste tested the blackberry drink in his hand. It didn’t taste like blackberries. But he thanked you, anyway.

He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to check in on you after your shower- he was too entranced by the sight of you in your pajamas. “Hey, how’s your head?”

“Haven’t had any complaints.”

Maybe it was too forward of a joke. Maybe someone from his time wouldn’t appreciate crass humor. Bucky’s cheeks flushed red- and he burst into laughter. You joined him, ignoring the throbbing pain in your skull. 

“It feels fine. I mean, it hurts, but it’s nothing I haven’t experienced before” you said. “Are you just gonna make sure I stay up all night?” 

Bucky cocked his head to the side, “uh, I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Oh…” you grew a little embarrassed. “I thought you couldn’t go to sleep if you have a concussion.”

“You can go to sleep- it’s just good to have someone check in on you now and then,” he said. “And, hey, you don’t have to stay in here with me- don’t feel like you have to entertain me, or anything. If you wanna go to bed, I’ll be fine out here.”

“Well, I don’t know about entertaining, cause I think the concussion kinda fucked up my ability to tap dance,” you laughed. “But I wanna hang out here with you- if you don’t mind the company.”

He gave you a shy smile, “I don’t mind at all.”

Bucky wasn’t anything like the tabloids said. He wasn’t cold or scary or threatening. He sat on your couch, sipping a La Croix and admiring your throw blanket. He was the farthest thing from intimidating. He had a quiet calm about him that brought you peace. Never did you think you’d invite a man you met on the subway to accompany you home. But Bucky made you feel safe. He was sweet, he clearly cared for your well-being. He was, by all definitions, perfect.

“So, what do superheroes do in their downtime?” you asked. “Like when you’re not saving the world, what do you do for fun?”

Bucky shrugged. He didn’t do anything for fun. “Um, I have court mandated therapy appointments,” he gave an awkward laugh. “I read. I hang out with Sam when he’s not in Louisiana visiting his sister. And I have lunch with a neighbor of mine every Wednesday- this old man named Yori.”

“I’m sure he could say the same about you- that he has lunch with some old man named Bucky.”

Bucky’s head fell back in a laugh, “yeah, you’re right. He’s- he’s about twenty years younger than me.” Bucky didn’t bring up the fact that Yori didn’t know his real age or anything about his past. About how the Winter Soldier killed his son. “Um, what about you?” He quickly changed the subject, “what do you do for fun?”

You thought it over for a moment. You hadn’t expected him to ask; most guys never asked what you liked to do for fun. They didn’t ask you anything at all, really. “Well, I also go to therapy,” you said. “My therapist’s name is Angela and I love her. And when I’m not ‘hanging out’ with Angela, I like to read. I like to go on walks. Oh, and I do a lot of baking- there’s a Tupperware of chocolate chip cookies on the island if you want some.”

Bucky’s eyes grew wide. He was off the couch quicker than you could comprehend and returned with the entire Tupperware in hand. But before he could dive in, he offered one to you. He was a gentleman, after all. 

“Oh, shit, these are so good”. Bucky wiped a stray crumb from his lip, “seriously, maybe the best I’ve ever had.”

His praise made your cheeks hot. Bucky Barnes called you ‘the best he ever had’- it was enough to make you sweat. “Oh, I’m flattered. The recipe’s been in my family for generations, though, so I can’t take full credit, but I-”

“I’m giving you full credit”, he said as he finished his second cookie. “These things are incredible.” 

You smiled so hard it hurt. “Well, I make at least one batch a week, so…” This was it, your excuse to see Bucky again. You could simply say that you wanted to bake him some cookies as a way of saying thank you, and then you’d ask him out. It was a perfect plan, really. A flawless, surefire way to guarantee that you’d see him at least once more. But as you tried to suggest baking him a ‘thank you’ batch, your mouth flooded with saliva.

Bucky clocked the way you grew suddenly quiet. He dropped his third cookie and inched closer, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hey, you okay? Do you need something?”

You did your best to push past the wave of nausea. Breathing in your nose and out through your mouth, you willed your body to cooperate. You made a valiant effort, but it was no match for the clear and present threat of vomit. This was happening- now. You scrambled to your feet and made a beeline for the bathroom, swearing to yourself you wouldn’t puke in front of the James Buchanan Barnes. 

Bucky rushed after you and found you kneeling in front of the toilet, emptying the contents of your stomach. “Oh, shit- here, let me,” he carefully moved your hair out of your face, holding it behind you in an imitation ponytail. His touch was gentle, cautious. He didn’t want to pull too hard and hurt you- you didn’t need any extra pain. 

He watched your body lurch as you wretched over and over, voiding your system completely. It was harsh, almost violent. And when you finally sat back on your heels, black and white spots danced through your field of vision. You were empty. Spent. Exhausted. 

“Hey, do me a favor and sit against this wall, okay?” Bucky guided you backward until you rested comfortably like he asked. “I’m gonna go get you some water, and I don’t want you tipping over while I’m gone.” Even in your despondent, miserable state, he still made you smile. And when he was certain that you wouldn’t injure yourself in his absence, he rushed to the kitchen for a glass of water.

He returned moments later with ice cold water in hand. “Thanks,” you croaked, your throat raw. Small sips of the cool water eased the burning. And a few more swigs rid your mouth of the unpleasant aftertaste. “I’m sure you weren’t planning on watching a stranger puke tonight,” you laughed. It made your head pound. “But I appreciate the water. And you holding my hair.”

Bucky plopped down next to you with a “sure thing” and a “don’t worry about it.” But you’d heard those phrases before. You’d heard them from people who were never a sure thing, people who made you worry about everything they did for you. They’d throw their rare acts of kindness in your face and use them as ammo in an attempt to disprove the pain they caused. It was condescending. Manipulative. Hurtful.  But Bucky meant what he said. All he wanted to do was help. You could tell.

He watched you catch your breath. Watched you drink your water in small sips. But he kept an eye out for another wave of nausea. He wanted to be ready in case he needed to hold your hair again. And he found himself thanking the universe that you’d invited him in; imagining you going through this by yourself broke his heart. 

“How do you feel?” he asked after a while.

“Not the best... but I’ll probably survive.”

Bucky’s laugh filled the room, “well, that’s very good news.”

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence. Bucky’s hand rested near yours. Your thigh bumped against his a few times. You swore electric currents passed between the two of you each time you touched. 

“Hey, if you don’t mind, could you grab me some Tylenol?” 

Bucky was up in an instant, ready to fetch you what you needed. But he found himself lost with no idea where he was going. He was so intent on helping, on making you feel better, that he was ready to run off without a map.

“In the cabinet to the left of the fridge,” you laughed. 

He shot you a wink and sped off. And while he rummaged through your cabinet, you made an embarrassing effort to stand. You rose on wobbly legs, determined to brush your teeth. There was no way you were going to have vomit breath around Bucky- absolutely not. He was the handsome stranger of your dreams. And you couldn’t screw this up; not that you thought he’d kiss a random concussed woman he met on the subway. But you wanted to leave the very best impression possible.

Bucky came screeching own the hall, bottle of Tylenol in hand. “I didn’t know how many you wanted, so I brought the whole thing”, he shrugged. You shot him a smile in the mirror and gave him a muffled “thanks”.

He stood patiently in the doorway, waiting for you finish brushing your teeth. And when you banished the rank taste of bile, you accepted the Tylenol. You tossed back four pills, and before you could reach for your water, Bucky retrieved it for you. He was one step ahead of what you needed. 

With the pills washed down your throat, you gave Bucky an expectant look. “Back to the couch?”

“Yeah, I mean, only if you’re feeling up to it,” he checked his watch. Noticed the yawn you tried to keep concealed. “If you wanna get some rest, please, don’t mind me. You can go to bed- I’ll be fine on my own.”

“No, I’m good. I’m fine,” you took him by the hand and led him back to the living room. “I’m having a good time.” Bucky didn’t say a word; he just let you guide him. He hadn’t held hands with someone in- he didn’t know how long. And holding hands with you- a stranger he’d grown rather smitten with- was enough to stop his heart.

The two of you sunk back into the couch- closer this time- and kept the conversation going. Your thigh rested against Bucky’s; his arm curved around the back of the couch. You could’ve sworn he was playing with a piece of your hair as he talked. But you didn’t want to ask and ruin the moment.

As the night continued, Bucky was shocked. He couldn’t believe you’d only heard of a few of his favorite movies. And he’d never heard of any of yours. “Make me a list,” you said, handing him a pen and a scrap of paper. “And I’ll make one for you. A person’s favorite movies say a lot about them.” 

“Yeah?” he cocked an eyebrow at you. “And what do mine say about me? The ones you know of, that is.”

A sly smile pulled at your lips, “they say that you’re a hopeless romantic.” It almost sounded like an accusation, and Bucky couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Is that so?”

“That is so!” you told him. “But I’m gonna tell you a secret…”  You lowered your voice, beckoned him closer, scanned the room as though in search of any eavesdroppers. “I’m the same way.” 

Just as you finished your list of movies for Bucky, you considered writing down your number. It would be so smooth, so perfectly timed- but what if he thought it was too forward? What if he didn’t want your phone number at all? You scratched out your area code and handed him the list with a smile.

The two of you continued teasing and joking and learning about each other. You found out that Bucky loved peach cobbler. He learned about your passion for animals. And eventually you asked the question you’d been curious about all night.

“So, where were you headed?” 

“What?”

“Well, you were on the subway. I’m assuming you were going somewhere.” You thought he was probably going to some fellow hero’s house for Super Movie Night. Or maybe a meeting with Captain America and Company. He had something much cooler to do than anything you planned for the night, that was for sure.

“Oh, right…” he cringed. “Um, I wasn’t actually heading anywhere. I was just riding the train to, well, ride the train.” It was embarrassing. More embarrassing than anything he’d ever done or said in his hundred years of life.

You cocked your head to the side, “Hmm. Interesting. So, is that like a hobby of yours?” 

He wished he could take his answer back. He wished he would’ve said he was going to dinner. Or Target. Or literally anywhere. But no, he just had to be honest. “No, it isn’t a hobby. It’s more like… exposure therapy.”

“Shit. Sorry,” you threw him an apologetic look. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“It’s okay, no big deal. I just- I don’t really like confined spaces. Or spaces with a lot of people. It’s a- it’s a long story.”

You nodded. 

“So, my therapist told me two combine the two and force myself to take the train- which isn’t great for my fear of trains,” he let out an awkward laugh. “Anyway, I was just trying it out. Seeing how it made me feel.”

Your heart broke for him. He had so many problems, so much trauma to deal with. And while you weren’t a psychiatrist, you didn’t think combining three of his fears into one nightmare was very sound medical advice. “And how did it make you feel?” 

“It wasn’t great- this lady was staring daggers at me for ten solid minutes. But I did get to teach that creepy guy a lesson, so at least there’s a silver lining.”

You laughed. He loved the sound- wanted to hear it all the time. 

“Thank you again, by the way, Sarge. You really rocked that guy’s shit.”

“I don’t like hurting people-” he shrugged, “It’s just something I’m good at. I try not to engage in violence unless absolutely necessary, you know? But that guy deserved it. Probably deserved a little more, but…” He gestured to you, “priorities.”

A warm rush flooded your cheeks. James Buchanan Barnes referred to you as a priority. 

The evening continued as the two of you swapped stories. You couldn’t believe how funny he was, how many ridiculous things he did back when he was young. In the comfortable safety of your living room, he came alive. You asked for more tales of young James Barnes and his antics with Steve Rogers. 

But as time passed, Bucky clocked the way you sank deeper into the couch. You nodded along with his stories and made comments here and there, but there was no mistaking your exhaustion. You leaned against his body more and more until your head rested on his shoulder. 

And then, you were asleep. Completely out. 

But Bucky didn’t mind. He sat still and quiet. He silenced his phone and yours. After the night you had, you needed the rest. And he was more than happy to help you get some sleep. He held in his laughter as you muttered nonsense under your breath- something about crepes and trench coats. It was perfect. Not the night Bucky expected, but the night he needed. And he’d stay in that exact position for hours if he had to. 

But after only forty minutes, a loud crash scared you awake.

Two large pieces of luggage fell to the floor inside your front door. “Fuck Delta airlines and FUCK LAX!” your roommate, Emma, yelled. “I swear to god, there’s a curse on that fucking airport and Delta is the devil’s airline.”

She eyed the room for a moment, taking in the unexpected scene. “Ew, why is there a bloody jacket in the kitchen? And who the fuck are you?”

You stood, begrudgingly leaving your spot next to Bucky. “This is Bucky, that’s his jacket. Some asshole attacked me on the train. I split my head open. He brought me home and kept an eye on me till you got back.”

Maybe she was just in a shit mood because of the travel nightmare. Or maybe she recognized Bucky. But either way, Emma wasn’t having it. “Okay, well, thanks for bringing her home. But I’m back, so you can go. Now. And don’t forget your nasty jacket.”

Bucky gave an awkward laugh. He mumbled a “nice to meet you” and stood from the couch. The two of you locked eyes for a moment, and you wished telepathy came with the serum. If he could only read your mind, he’d know how sorry you were. How horrified you were by Emma’s behavior. You couldn’t believe how rude she was being, how utterly unkind. 

But your mind and body weren’t quite working together. You were still groggy, lost in the haze of sleep. And your head injury only made things more difficult. You did your best to formulate a response to Emma and an apology to Bucky. But before you could say anything, Emma was at it again. 

“Seriously, dude. It’s time for you to go, get out of my house.”

Bucky was so flustered, so uncomfortable that he left without saying goodbye. Without getting your number. He shut down. He simply snagged his jacket from the kitchen and bailed. He heard you arguing with Emma as he walked down the hall. Heard you near-tears. 

He wanted to turn around and say goodnight. To protect you from Emma’s wrath. Comfort you. More than anything, he wanted to get your number. Maybe ask you out. But he was too thrown off by the whole thing. He didn’t expect such a response- he didn’t even get to tell Emma that you needed looking after. He just ran. And it made him feel like a coward. 

He pressed the button for the ancient elevator once. Twice. Five times. And when it finally arrived, he got in and slammed the button for the first floor. Ruining his chances of ever seeing you again. Sure, he knew where you lived. But he couldn’t just show up. You’d already dealt with enough creepy shit from weird men- he wasn’t going to stalk you. 

Bucky spent the entire elevator ride heartbroken. He knew he’d have to go home to his empty apartment; knew he’d think about you for way too long. You’d probably forget about him after a day- maybe two at the most. And he’d spend months trying to get over the stranger from the subway.

But when he stepped out of the elevator, he found you waiting for him.

“Hi, um… what?” He was more than a little confused. “How did you- how’d you get down here so fast?”

“Stairs,” you breathed. “Faster.”

Bucky couldn’t believe you. It was romantic; it was something out of one of his favorite movies. But it was stupid. “That was… that was a terrible idea- you could’ve gotten hurt. You almost fell over earlier when you were just standing still. Why’d you run down the stairs?”

“Cause I didn’t get to say goodbye…” your voice was soft, heartbroken. “And I didn’t get to give you my number.”

Wordlessly, Bucky handed you his phone. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t want to chance ruining such a perfect opportunity. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him, of all people. That you actually wanted to see him again.

When you finished, you extended Bucky’s phone in his direction- but recoiled as he tried to reach for it. “Promise me you’ll call?”

“On my life,” he said. The answer brought a warm smile to your face- a smile he wanted to see again. As soon as possible. And when you gave his phone back, he took a moment to stare down at your number. This had to be a dream. 

“Do me a favor and go get some rest, okay?” He extended his pinky and linked it with yours, “Drink a lot of water. And even though she seems like she’s in a bad mood, ask your roommate to check in on you every now and then.”

“Yeah, like she’s gonna go for that-”

“Tell her that if she doesn’t, I’m coming back to look after you myself. And I’ll drink her, her um…” 

“Kombucha,” you whispered. 

“Right, I’ll drink her Kombucha!” He laughed and shot you a wink, “That’ll do the trick.”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, wiggled your pinky with his, and stepped into the still-open elevator doors. “Thank you for everything. I’m really happy I met you.” 

Bucky blushed. “So am I. Not under the best circumstances, but-”

“Worth it,” you shot him a wink. Just as the doors began to close, the two of you exchanged waves. And just before Bucky vanished from view, you threw a quick “call me” his way. And then he was gone.

You made it back to your apartment, nearly tripping over Emma’s luggage. She apologized as you grabbed a glass of water and nearly cried when you told her the story of your evening. And though you wanted to hear about her airport nightmare, you needed to sleep. 

You got settled in bed and realized- you missed Bucky already. 

And just as you decided to go to sleep for the night, your phone buzzed:

“Wanted to call but figured it might be too soon- seeing as it’s only been about four minutes. I’ll call you in the morning. And just so you know: even without the tap dancing, I found you very entertaining. I’m really glad I met you.

If you need anything at all, let me know. Feel better.

-JBB”

—————————————

Taglist: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality  @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl l  @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot  @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie  @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine  @evangeliamerryll l @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi i @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @barnesselo

[simp-ly-writes]

The Comment Section (pt.2)

─────── · · A Social Media AU Fic

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: Commenters are starting to get more and more worked up the longer you and Spencer grow apart.

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, angst, attempt at comedy, more angst, light swearing, fluff, mutual pinning.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | PART ONE | PART THREE | PART 3.5

─ · · A/N: thank you all seriously for the comments and support on the first part, hope you all enjoy this next one equally as much :)

─────── · ·

Super Smash Bros: Battle of the Chosen's

Smosh Games ✓ [Subscribed] Like 100k | Dislike | Share | ... 7.75M subscribers 1.1M views 2 weeks ago click to expand

4,683 Comments

username97 2 weeks ago Dear Diary, its day 14 and there are still no videos of Spencer and (name) together. username05 2 weeks ago Always love the Shayne and Spencer duo, but can they go back to their partners now? username39 6 days ago When's the next episode of Bored AF?? username22 6 days ago Okay, but why haven't I seen (name) in any gaming channel videos lately? I haven't watched in a while, can someone get me caught up? ▼ 12 replies ↳ username66 5 days ago So Spencer didn't exactly explain to (name) that FNAF was not the simulation-type game or party/table-top that they are used to playing but a horror-simulation. (name) got really scared and then super annoyed at him and they haven't been seen together in videos since then. ↳ username69 2 days ago They're overreacting, has to be doing this for views or attention. No other explanation. ↳ username66 1 day ago (edited) (name) is their own person with their own emotions and friendships. In the field they work it intermingles with life and the lives of so many others in ways that people like us will never get to experience correctly. They are entitled to their own feelings and if they think Spencer broke their trust somehow- they can act however they want however right or wrong that appears to others. ↳ username69 1 days ago Well maybe you both should just grow the eff up and shut the h*ll up. ↳ username01 1 day ago Maybe you should do the same username69? Can't even swear like a real fucking adult. username51 just now And so the Chosen Universe Lore expands... username81 just now first.

─────── · ·

Guess That Smosh Skit!

Smosh Games ✓ [Subscribed] Like 62k | Dislike | Share | ... 7.75M subscribers 477k views 2 weeks ago click to expand

2,199 Comments

⚲ Pinned by Creator SmoshGames ✓ 2 weeks ago Both new and old shows are coming soon, what are you hoping to see next? ▼ 765 replies ↳ username01 2 weeks ago Tell Spencer to buy (name) flowers, on theirs hands and knees begging, or write them a card- anything!!! ↳ username33 1 hour ago Spencer and (name) recreate famous ********** scenes. * [this comment has been censored for interfering with Youtube's Community Guidelines; for more information press HERE] ↳ username39 6 days ago BORED AF PLEASEEEEE. username20 1 hour ago Please, please, please bring Olivia back more, her small mutterings always have me rolling on the floor XD username24 3 hour ago I 100% forgot about the Every [Blank] Ever series! So good to see bits of it again! username55 2 weeks ago Anyone else keep rewatching old videos and fan-edits of (yourshipname)? I'm gonna keep acting like nothing ever happened like some other people...

─────── · ·

my favorite (name) and spencer moments :)

(Yourshipname) Updates [Subscribe] Like | Dislike | Share | ... 1.12K subscribers 217k views 3 years ago click to expand

999 Comments

⚲ Pinned by Creator (yourshipname)updates ✓ 2 weeks ago Thank you for all the support on this video recently! I wish it didn't have to come from this though... P-P username55 2 weeks ago Even before they both appeared on camera officially, there are so many background clips of them sitting together, sharing food and vacations in pictures, even pet-sitting?? Like c'mon, theres only so much a girl can take (╥﹏╥) username11 30 minutes ago This comment section is for our collective tears ಥ_ಥ username09 just now 19:45 My favorite clip ever of them, its so soft. Spencer with his eyes closed as (name) fixes their hair in the background of TNTL behind the screen. They're so effortless with one another... username03 1 week ago Lets make a thread! Post your favourite (yourshipname) moments underneath this comment! ▼ 173 replies ↳ username97 1 hour ago Spencer and (name) sharing a kickstart during DND sessions. Spencer and (name) sharing a kickstart during DND sessions. Spencer and (name) sharing a kickstart during DND sessions. Spencer and (name) sharing a kickstart during DND sessions. ↳ username66 2 days ago (name) being so excited over beating an Elden Ring Boss on stream that she runs and kisses Spencer on the cheek before brake dancing in the background while Spencer stares blankly at the camera, cheeks red and eyes wide. MWAHAHHAHA ↳ username04 just now Would have to be (name) dropping the burrito under the table and Spencer placing his hand above their head so they don't hurt themselves 𓏗ᵕ𓏗 ↳ username02 3 days ago 2022 Truck Simulator: Spencer, hand on their knee driving. It is my kryptonite. ↳ username15 1 hour ago (name) dancing with and twirling Spencer after Smosh the Sitcom. I want it as a GIF and framed. ↳ username11 4 days ago Has anyone mentioned their San Diego panel together? That whole hour is surreal, the head resting on shoulders, gripping one another in laughter, holding hands- speaking into the mic at the same time. OR HOW THEY WERE WALKING THE FLOOR TOGETHER IN MATCHING COSPLAY AFTER. ↳ username06 1 hour ago Darts and how they acted like one another. ↳ username32 30 minutes ago 27:49 Chosen Spencer pinning (name) to the wall during that interrogation bit changed my brain chemistry. ↳ username03 just now Wow, this is most responses I've ever received- thank you everyone!! ↳ username17 15 minutes ago 17:12 Them taking a power nap together at the same desk. username33 just now How have we entered a new era of how every "Where's Anthony?" is now a "Where's Spencer/(name)???"

─────── · ·

It's Awkward... (Who Meme'd It?)

Smosh Pit ✓ [Subscribed] Like 62k | Dislike | Share | ... 8.29M subscribers 565k views 1 week ago click to expand

5,199 Comments

username08 1 hour ago That meme coming from Ian was wild! ▼ 199 replies ↳ username87 30 minutes ago 16:16 Dog in Burning House: "Spencer when (name) doesn't want to play games with him - "this is fine, I am fine"" XDDD ↳ username02 20 minutes ago I would have never expected Ian to make that meme out of the list. ↳ username44 5 minutes ago IKR!? Like up against Alex, Courtney, and Trevor? No wonder no one picked him for it. ↳ username87 just now But we all are forgetting the best clip after: 17:12 Spencer proceeded to slip off his chair and hide underneath the table while Amanda was screaming defence and pointing fingers at the crowd. Has to be in the top 50 moments of all time. ↳ username44 just now YES! I love how the whole cast was AFTER THEM. They live for their relationship just like us. <3 username24 3 hour ago The editing team needs to be spotlighted more, BC all their memes were straight fire!!! username08 1 week ago You know when Shayne is hosting that its gonna be a good video ▼ 8 replies ↳ username97 5 days ago Doesn't Shayne already host most of the videos? ↳ username08 5 days ago That was the point- all the videos are good...

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: want a part 3 anyone? what do you want to see happen next?

[almacambiondaughterofsaleos]

Hey, Show Apply This Mentality To Stolas Instead Of Coddling Him Just Because Blitzo Rightfully Called Him Out For Everything He Did!!!

You know what really infuriates me about this exchange is that this could also apply to Stolas but instead we are supposed to side with him expecting Blitzo to forgive and forget the bs he was put through. And the narrative and show tries to gaslight you thinking that Stolas is the victim of not having his feelings returned and that he's entitled to Blitzo. Also again this is the same show that made Stolas not sorry for cheating on his wife by trying to make her a one dimensional pos. This guy openly admitted he didn't think he did anything wrong (despite the fact that it hurt his daughter). Again Stolas has done the exact same thing where he disregarded other people's feelings and treats himself as a victim to be pitied. Although Blitzo has the bigger count, Stolas shouldn't be apart of the victim squad because he's a victimer who has victimized Blitzo, Stella, and his daughter with his actions yet never truly pays for them because of his sob story bs.

Also if you want to add more victims of Stolas how about all the servants he mistreated they could tell stories about what a pos he is. Seriously, I hate this serie want to think it's wrong that Blitzo has a negative opinion of Stolas and treat he changed and that makes him owed a relationship even when it's obvious he should have expected that Blitzo wouldn't change overnight because of one grand gesture. Yet, Blitzo is expected to make up for his own mistakes, while Stolas can coast by being a pos because of sad (weak) backstory card.

It feels like what Tv tropes would called a Broken Aesop which a lesson is taught about something but is contradicted by what is actually presented which is the fact that Blitzo is expected to realize sorry doesn't erase the issues he has made with people but Stolas isn't. The narrative tries to say he's realized what he did was wrong, but it doesn't and tv tropes itself tries to erase how how much of a pos he was in the past. Blitzo is expected to own up to his actions regardless if he says sorry, while Stolas gets the crybaby treatment he doesn't deserve because he himself was no better and in many ways even worse. Its again a show how the fans and show does everything to let Stolas off the hook for this ship and it's infuriating.

[luvgavii]

fire meets gasoline - (pg6)

summary: he's narcissistic and egotistical, his anger always getting the best of him.

she's spoiled, bratty and knows just how to push all of his buttons, like adding gasoline to a fire.

warning: suggestive at the end🫣

***

they met on a saturday night, in a busy club in barcelona. she bumped into him as she stumbled through the crowd of people, his cocky look already pissing her off as he turned towards her.

"watch where you're going," he said taking a step back, piercing through her with his angry eyes.

"you know, you could lose that attitude, it doesn't look good for your image," she said rolling her eyes, seriously, how entitled does he think he is to treat people so carelessly?

he scoffed, his eyebrows slightly rising as his look got even more annoyed, but he was intrigued, "do you know who you're talking to?"

she laughed, her arms crossing over her chest, giving him a 'duh' look, "the whole population of barcelona knows who you are, gavi, and its really not impressing me, maybe it would, if you would just apologize."

"apologize?" he said almost laughing at her words, "i should apologize for you bumping into me? please, princesa, you should be a comedian."

princesa? did he really think he could charm her?

"no, not for me bumping into you. but for you giving me the 'do you know who i am?' attitude," she said before smirking, an idea popping into her mind. "in fact, i'm sure my followers and the media would be delighted to find out how cocky and rude pablo gavi is."

he felt his anger slowly rising, his fist clenching and opening, was she threatening his image just like that?

"you wouldn't dare," he said as his eyes narrowed, he expected her to walk away, but instead she pulled her phone out, typing in her password.

at her action, he felt his breath hitch as he thought about the scandal this could cause. he knew who she was, he knew just what a big influencer she was, especially on instagram and tiktok. normally he wouldn't care what some girl has to say about him, but he knew the media would love the gossip, and would surely cause a scandal.

he grabbed her waist, pushing her to a wall nearby and pinning her against it as the music faded into the background, his hand on her hip while the other held her hands above her head, still holding the phone as they stared into eachothers eyes.

"you can't," he said sighing as he spoke into her ear, making sure she can hear him over the loud music, "you can't post about this."

"apologize." she said back, her voice demanding, her lips curling into a smirk as her eyes narrowed daringly, oh, she was enjoying this.

his jawline clenched, looking away for a second as he felt his anger rising, taking a deep breath before he spoke, "i'm sorry," he said trying to calm his rising anger.

"sorry for what? being a dick?" she pushed him, feeling his hand tighten around her wrists, her arms were getting tired, but she wasn't going to admit it to his face.

he breathed out, his breath hitting her face, but she didn't move an inch, "i'm sorry for being rude," he said just as they saw a flash next to them, the paparazzi turning the corner as soon as they snapped their heads towards that direction.

***

sure enough, the pictures circulated on the internet, being on every gossip page, every football fan page, and everyone's tiktok.

she usually was very active on her platforms, but now, anything she posted had mostly comments asking her about gavi.

they knew the scenerio all too well, they don't address it and people will eventually forget, right?

wrong. its been almost a week and no one seemed to forget. gavi's teammates were all teasing him, and it drove him mad, why couldn't he escape her now that they met? more importantly, why can't he stop thinking about her?

after training, he took a long shower, collecting his thoughts and analysing the whole situation. he was surprised she hasn't spoken up yet, calling him out on his behaviour and stating that they are, in fact, not in a relationship. far from it. he hated her bratty behaviour, knowing she probably got her way her whole life. but he couldn't deny the fact that it intrigued him, it was like she knew how to respond no matter how big of a dick he was.

he decided they needed to talk about the situation so he reached out via instagram, asking if he could come over to talk, and she sent him her address.

he already knew this was a bad idea as soon as he got in the car and put her address into the gps, his anger rising as he thought about the bitchy attitude she would give him tonight, he couldn't decide if he was extremely irritated or extremely turned on.

pulling up to her luxurious house, her gates opened automatically, and even if he would not admit it, he was impressed. he wasn't sure whatever she did besides being an influencer, but it clearly paid good.

gavi didn't get the chance to knock on her door when she opened it, smiling sarcastically, "there he is, my lovely 'boyfriend', the apple of my eye," she said as she moved away, letting him walk in, he grinned sarcastically, too.

"aren't you a ray of sunshine, princesa," he mocked, but he decided the nickname was fitting, she was acting like a entitled princess.

gavi and y/n plopped onto the couch, ready to talk business. he was sitting on one end, holding his head up as he leaned his elbow against the fancy cushion.

"so how much money do you want, to keep your mouth shut?" he started, his voice nonchalant.

"money?" she asked in disbelief as she tried not to laugh in his face, "trust me, i do not need your money. i make plenty on my own, thank you very much."

he smirked, there was her attitude, "alright, then i guess you're keeping your mouth for free, or i can think of a way to shut it."

she raised her brows, scoffing, but the thought sent a shiver down her spine and straight to her pussy.

"aww," she mockingly placed a hand over her chest, acting surprised and fanning herself, "is pablo gavi actually suggesting i have sex with him?" she chuckled, "i would rather throw myself down a never ending staircase."

gavi couldn't lie, this whole conversation was extremely funny, but his smirk never got wiped off his face, instead, he sat closer to her, resting his arm on the back of the couch as they made eye contact.

"yeah?" he chuckled, his free hand putting a strand of hair behind her ear as he lowered his voice, feeling her tense under his touch, "because your body is calling you out on your lie, princesa."

"god, you are such an asshole," she mumbled, making him smirk, "where is that rude man i met at the club, hm?"

"oh, don't worry, he's still here. but he knows when to be rude and when he shouldn't," he whispered, now resting his hand on her thigh, his face inching closer to hers.

he gave her a few seconds to pull away, but when she didn't, he took it as a sign to continue, brushing his lips against hers, her eyes falling from his eyes to his lips, making him smirk at the action.

"what do you want, princesa?" he whispered against her lips, the nickname rolling off his tongue like honey.

she gulped, her mind unknowing how to process what was happening, was he really so close to her? almost towering over her on her couch? a cocky, narcissistic but oh, so sexy man, who thought he could charm his way out of this?

"i hate you," she breathed out as his mouth found her neck, kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin, making her bite her lip to keep quiet.

"likewise, don't worry," he smirked as he continued his ministrations against her neck, his smirk widening when she tilted her head to give him more access.

she knew this was all an act, and while she desperately wanted him to dick her down, something was holding her back.

"i'm telling everyone tomorrow, what an asshole you are, pablo," she breathed out as she felt his tongue against her skin, sending another wave of pleasure to her core.

he pulled away, his lips plumb and red, his pupils dialated as he shook his head. he felt his anger rise.

"that would be very unnecessary, princesa," his jaw clenched at the thought.

she scoffed, shaking her head as she stood up, "what is this? just about a week ago you looked like you wanted to strangle me, now you're here, acting like.. like.. this!" she raised her voice, frustrated at the whole situation.

he ran his hand through his hair, standing in front of her, breathing loadly as he started growing impatient "because, i don't know, but ever since i met you, ever since i had you pinned at that goddamn wall and you looked at me with those beautiful eyes," he said as he looked into her eyes again, seeing them soften as he continued, "i can't get you out of my mind, and don't get me wrong, your attitude still makes me want to strangle you, but god, you are so beautifully intriguing," he said, still sounding somewhat frustrated, but his voice was soft.

she chuckled at his words about her attitude, standing there, hugging herself, she couldn't let the wall she took so long to build down now, not now.

"i'm not the type to beg, and i will probably regret this by the morning, but tell me what i can do for you not to cause me a scandal," his voice was soft but determined, he was going to keep her quiet, no matter what it took.

she didn't move for a second as she thought, the way his lips moved against her neck clouding her thinking, she pointed to the couch, "kneel in front of the couch." she instruced him as he raised an eyebrow.

"you want me to sit on the floor like a dog?" he questioned, following her to the couch.

she sat on the couch, pointing in front of her to the floor.

"maybe you didn't hear me the first time, i don't beg, princesa." he scoffed as he kneeled in front of her.

she smirked, leaning her back against the couch and getting comfortable, "oh, asshole, i want you to make me beg." she said as she placed her legs on either sides of his shoulders, causing him to smirk.

oh, he liked the way she was thinking.

[myouicieloz]

Alcohol teacher

Kim Minjeong x Yoo Jimin

Synopsis: “My face immediately turned red, but I wasn’t drunk, though. I also had my first soju with Jimin unnie, my alcohol teacher.” — Kim Minjeong.

Warnings: dom!karina x sub!winter. you know the deal babes, lots of plot with a little smut in it. drinking, nsfw, drunk (public?) sex.

Word count: 2k

Notes: I’ve never had soju in my life. enjoy ˆˆ n gimme feedback we barely talk anymore :(

“You look too skilled doing this.” Minjeong says, watching quietly as Karina pours a small amount of liquid into two shot glasses. It doesn’t seem like much, which leaves Minjeong annoyed. She doesn’t want Karina going easy on her, even if it is indeed her first time drinking.

Her judgmental look is no strange thing to Jimin, who merely shrugs and continues her task. She smiles at Minjeong once she’s done, nose scrunching with how much she’s enjoying the situation. When Winter had gone to her and mentioned she wanted to have a night out for drinks, so she’d try them out for the first time, Karina felt like she was in heaven. The first thing she did once she woke up was to book reservations, so the whole bar would be left alone for them— this way, Minjeong would be the most comfortable to experience the drinks, and no crazy fan would bash them for being grown women drinking.

“So,” She begins her explanation, ignoring the younger girl’s irritated tone. “We’ll start simple. Here, there’s vodka. We’ll drink it all at once: it’s as easy as that.” Bringing her cup near her mouth, Karina gestures for Minjeong to do the same. Which she does, after eyeing the raven-haired girl suspiciously. “On three, ok? One, two…”

Karina’s hands gently hover over Minjeong’s chin, turning the cup upwards so the liquid flows over Winter’s throat. Karina’s fingers linger even after the cup is left empty, her touch igniting the younger girl’s skin.

Vodka burns— it tastes like fire, washing through your cells until it hits your esophagus and threatens to back its way back, clearly not welcomed. It’s an unpleasant sensation, to say the least.

Yet, the only feeling Minjeong’s brain acknowledges are Karina’s delicate hands, now tracing her collarbone. She decides, then, that her bandmate’s touches are worse than a thousand vodka doses.

“So? What’d you think?” Karina asks, eager to know Minjeong’s opinion. She bounces like a puppy, moving as much as the booth they’re seated at allows her to.

Minjeong nods, running her hands through her face to spread the flush that lingers stubbornly on her cheeks. She feels on fire; distracted, which is unlike herself. When asking Karina for guidance on learning how to drink, her intentions were nothing but serious. She has never not been the best at something, so she fully intended to be a great drinker. By that, she intended on inspecting each liquor religiously, taking mental notes and rankings over each one, so she’d know exactly which ones to make conversations about or to order at award-shows and after parties.

Her plan, now, was ruined by a tall, black-haired girl with smokey eyes and bubbly lips.

“It was ok.” Minjeong answers, smiling a little at Jimin. Despite her internal irritation, Jimin was the one to pull her back to reality, making sure she didn’t overwork herself—or just reminding Minjeong to not take things too seriously, overall. She was not entitled to be bratty and corrupt the bubbly girl. She wouldn’t.

“You’re a tough one, Minjeong-ah.” Karina says, placing two soju bottles in front of her, then. “Luckily, that was only our warm-up. The real fun starts now!”

Minjeong stares at the Blueberry and Mango Soju bottles with an uncertain gaze. Karina had let her choose, even though Minjeong could sense her getting impatient every passing second. And, because she loved to tease Karina as much as the girl enjoyed to tease her back, Minjeong picked the blueberry-flavored bottle right before Karina’s quick fingers could reach out for them.

“You’re so mean, Minjeongie.” Karina whines, resting her back in the padded seat. The younger one laughs, then, pleased to have gotten into Karina’s nerves.

“Should we eat?” Minjeong asks, as the food is placed in front of them. Karina only nods, biased as she is, opening both bottles before setting up portions for her and Minjeong.

So they drink, eat, and laugh, talking about idol life and all the gossip they hear or notice around. In a blink, their plates are empty, the soju bottles are nearly dry and their throats, raw from rambling too much. Karina orders more food, and opens new bottles— Minjeong is a strong drinker, she commented. A professional, even though it’s her first time, as it goes with everything the auburn haired girl proposes herself to do.

Minjeong has never felt better in her life. It’s as though she’s walking through clouds, lightheaded and unable to hide her loud, careless laughter. Needles prickle her skin, which makes herself grow restless. It’s the reason she stands, after a while, simply unable to keep in place.

“Minjeong-ah? What are you doing?” Karina asks, confused to see the girl walking the short way towards her seat. Her balance is not at all the resemblance of the Minjeong she usually knows; calm, collected, sweet Minjeong. No, Karina doesn’t know this daring, careless girl who is struggling to walk a straight line and launches herself into the older girl’s lap, red curls tingling in her neck.

She loves it, though.

“I don’t want that seat anymore.” She pouts. Minjeong’s eyes are stargazed, but Karina is surprised to not find them glassy or unfocused, as she stares right into the girl’s dark orbs. If anything, they’re attentive — hungry, even though they had just eaten. “Yours is much more comfortable and cozy… Change seats with me, Jimin unnie.”

Karina’s arms wrap around Minjeong’s petite frame instinctively. Her finger’s tease her collarbone once again, while her other hand scratches the skin showing between the younger girl’s crop top and skirt.

Karina laughs. “You need to get up, then, Minjeongie.”

The girl bluntly ignores her, too deep in her thoughts to listen to her unnie.

“You’re so beautiful, unnie…” Minjeong’s whisper is followed by her hands, both gripping Karina’s face rather delicately. Her touch is tender, much different from the way she squirms, pressing herself against the oldest’s thighs. “I’ve always wondered what your lips tasted like…”

Without a warning, Minjeong presses her lips against Karina’s, not a clear thought going through her head. She’s met with a closed mouth, at first — Karina’s too surprised, frozen in position to do anything, but slowly, the oldest finds herself relaxing against Minjeong’s warmth, pulling her in. Their kiss, ever so sweet, suddenly gets impatient, as they lose themselves in savoring each other.

Minjeong already feels as if she’s going to explode: her insides burn and she feels so needy it hurts. She’s aching, humping Karina’s lap like a dumb puppy. Not only the alcohol, she’s drunk with desire, too, she quickly realizes. Drunk with Karina’s sweet taste, and now so empty— without Karina touching her where she needs it the most.

She’s aching, all hot, bothered, and so impatient. It’s the reason she is so loud— or so she likes to tell herself, as an excuse, allowing Karina to grab her neck and guide her head upwards, sucking and nibbling Minjeong’s skin with her teeth as she pleases.

“You’re such a doll, Minjeongie.” Karina praises, but her words do nothing to please the girl. They only make her even more annoyed, borderline desperate.

“Unnie,” She whines, eyes half closed as her body intensifies every sensation possible, focused on driving her to madness. “Give me, now.”

Karina stops herself, too delighted to have Minjeong so desperate and pliable in her arms. How many times had she gotten herself off with the thought of Minjeong’s moans, and now she had them all for herself? It was a dream come true, and she’d enjoy every moment of it. Her fingers stop toying with the hem of the younger girls’ skirt, now far away from her thighs. It makes Minjeong scoff, annoyed.

“Give you what, Minjeongie?” Karina asks, her tone as innocent as she manages it to be, lying on her seat once again.

Minjeong pouts, now having her movements guided by Karina’s hands, gripping her hips and forcing her to a faster pace.

“W-whatever you want.” She manages to say, breathless, as she humps Karina’s thigh. “Just do it now, please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Karina’s eyes never leave Minjeong’s face, with the intent of memorizing the moment forever.

The older girl’s mouth lowers, tracing wet kisses until she reaches for the hems of Minjeong’s top, watching them fall freely until the girl’s pink, rosy nipples are exposed to Jimin. Minjeong recoils, shivering due to the sudden decline of temperature. Before she can cover herself, Jimin’s mouth is on her nipple, suckling and nibbling as she gropes the other one, pinching and twisting. Her tongue traces circles around Minjeong’s skin, and she’s absolutely delighted about how responsive the girl is, squirming and trying to run from Karina’s warm, wet mouth. It makes her leave a trail of saliva down her chest, making a mess of the so-collected Kim Minjeong.

She feels Karina everywhere: from her mouth, so inviting, sure of what she’s doing and aware of how desperate she’s making Minjeong be, to her hands, now pulling Minjeong’s panties aside, so her fingers can finally meet her folds. Minjeong is drenched, Karina feels it as two of her fingers enter her folds, no warnings needed. In response, a loud, needy moan can be heard, and Minjeong lets her head fall back, mouth open and a strong grip on her bandmate’s shoulders. She’s finally full, no longer aching with emptiness or desire. Instead, Minjeong is knocked by the pleasant pleasure building up in her stomach, as Karina keeps fingering her pussy hard.

Satisfied, she stays like that: filling the empty bar with her pornographic moans as she keeps riding Karina’s thigh, thinking about nothing else but the way the friction against the leader’s pants is just perfect, aligned with the stretch on her walls, and the mouth on her breasts. It’s almost too much, but she’s unable to ask for Karina to stop, or to gown any slower. No, Minjeong’s head is filled with the urge to let go and come, nothing else. So she lets herself enjoy whatever Karina is willing to give, mind submissive and pliable.

“Does Minjeongie want to cum? Do you, doll?” Karina asks, tone innocent, even though she’s far from being so. Winter’s cunt throbs, making her gulp. Even though there are a few words being formed in her mind, she’s blank, unable to speak in any coherent sentences.

Minjeong nods, a mess of moans and whimpers, clinging onto Karina as if her life depended on it. Karina’s pace deepens, a third finger adding to the stretch of her pussy.

“Yes, p-please!” She chants, just as Karina’s thumb presses onto her clit, making her nearly cry. She feels her peak approaching her form, the combo of sensations building up to her pleasure.

Karina’s hands clutch on Minjeong’s waist so hard she’s sure it’ll bruise the girl’s skin, but she doesn't seem to care. She makes Minjeong’s pace on her thighs faster, dragging the orgasm out of her. “Do it, baby. Come on my fingers.”

Minjeong lets out a high-pitched moan at the command, feeling her body shaking as the orgasm finally has her spilling her juices in Karina’s hand. She’s breathless, hair disheveled and so sensitive— as Karina doesn’t let her stop her movement’s on the leader’s thigh. She whines, but keeps going, though. Like a doll.

“My little doll.” Karina voices her thoughts out loud, dropping wet kisses on Minjeong’s bare shoulders, waiting for the younger girl to settle down.

After a few minutes, she does, leaving Karina’s lap to sit beside her, inhaling deeply.

It’s Karina, Minjeong realizes, then. Karina is better than Soju, better than Rum, and much better than vodka. Karina is what sets her on fire, what gets her dizzy, drunk with desire. Minjeong wants to drink in all of her.

So she kisses her again, just as hungry as their first time, knowing their night had just started.

[pepsi-al]

And now, for another piece of Serena glazing brought to you by an entitled fan from the vocal minority.

Going over this so you don't have to.

The first point he tries to make is that the XY anime in an attempt to prove that the XY anime is "the most popular Pokémon Anime series", using an IMDB rating of it to back it up with, even though the rating in question is, like, taken from about 617 people. Not even a drop in the bucket compared to the amount of viewers the XY anime ended with, let alone started out with. Which should pretty much tell anyone that the people who are giving such praise to the XY anime are not even part of the target audience. Especially since Yo-Kai Watch has been outright beating the XY anime in the ratings throughout the latter's run.

He credits Serena to being part of the success that the XY anime had. Even though the only place where it found "success" was among the periphery online fandom. Meanwhile what her portrayal and "AmourShipping" actually did contribute to in regards to the XY anime is the alienation of the target audience. With the target audience themselves going on record to say that they weren't vibing with what "AmourShipping" was giving them. And in regards to those not among the target audience but didn't vibe with "AmourShipping" nonetheless, they knew that "AmourShipping" wasn't going to go anywhere.

He thinks that Serena "brought new things to the table", all the while already singing Serena's praises, calling her "the best PokéGirl of all time", as well as one of the best characters in the entire franchise. Pretty much blatantly ignoring what was already on the table before Serena even arrived.

He outright thinks that every female companion of Ash's after Misty but prior to Serena is somehow "a copy of Misty". Yeah, sure. Let's just ignore everything else that sets Ash's female companions besides Serena apart from each other, and just boil down their behavior to "Misty-esque". Granted, he does state that they have defining characteristics, such as May becoming a "Performer". (Uhh, dude? Coordinator, while similar, doesn't equal Performer.) But he seems to think they all have the same kind of personality Misty has, which couldn't be any further from the truth.

The attention he calls to in regards to Ash's female companions before Serena being "sassy" and "a jerk to Ash" pretty much shows his entire thought process into making this video. And why he was so reductive towards May, Dawn, and Iris. He's basically telling people here that he projects himself onto Ash, and that he doesn't think that Ash should have to put up with someone who, understandably, calls Ash out on his stupidity on a regular basis. (And in doing so, pretty much missing the point of Ash's character.) Also, was anyone that wasn't a part of the hardcore AniPoké fandom seriously getting tired of a girl being around to call Ash out on his faults? Does this guy genuinely believe that? Last I checked, before the time of the XY anime, they were getting tired of Ash, not his female companions in anything apart from getting sidelined in favor of Ash.

Actually, nobody apart from the periphery demographic actually "fell immediately in love with Serena". And those who did immediately fall in love with her didn't do so because of her personality. It was because of her crush on Ash, and because of marketing. Her actual personality is nothing to sneeze at, and is pretty much not only nothing like her source material counterpart, but also pretty much what you would expect from a character with no depth to her personality beyond "I'm girly because I'm a girl". Also, "kind" and "caring" literally describe ALL of Ash's female companions. Whereas "independent" describes ALL of Ash's female companions EXCEPT Serena. "Kind to everyone" and "not afraid to express how she was feeling" isn't unique to her. (The latter is definitely one of the reasons why Misty is popular. And Serena definitely seemed afraid to express how she's feeling around Ash.) And she's definitely nowhere near the first to be friendly towards everyone and ready to extend a helping hand whenever anyone is in trouble. (Again. That's literally a reason why Misty is popular to begin with.) Not to mention, Serena wasn't bratty? This dude never saw how Serena feels about her mother. And again with the "not a jerk to Ash" bit. Heck, he even brings up when she cares for Ash when he's sick as though it hadn't been done before, when it has by Misty. It's like he doesn't actually give a crap about Serena's actual character, is more interested in the fact that the showrunners made her only purpose on the show to be to make Ash look good, and is only gassing her up both to make her look better than she is, and because he feels like she's the perfect character to make Ash look good; pretty much a regular pastime for guys like him at this point. It also shows a double standard in regards to his thought process. If the female traveling companion of Ash is her own character and made out to be his equal, then anything she does, even if beneficial for Ash, is automatically bad. But if that female traveling companion is instead made specifically to make Ash look good, as though as she were a typical female character in a Shounen anime, then anything that she does, even if it harms Ash in any way, is automatically good.

Also, if things did end up changing for the better in regards to Ash's female companions, they did so in spite of Serena, not because of her. Mallow, Lana, and Lillie, were all pretty much close representations of if not direct translations of their source material counterparts. Chloe, an AniPoké OC, is pretty much the only one that comes after AniPoké Serena who is the most similar to her in terms of characterization. But, despite her doing the similarities she has with Serena better than Serena did, the reaction the periphery demographic actually has towards her (read: Chloe is disliked by the periphery audience for being "too boring", "aimless", "decided upon a goal that defeated the purpose of her character", etc.) only succeeds in showcasing said demographic's hypocrisy towards her.

WRT the unnecessary shade towards Misty's direction, saying that she would not have cared, and that she would have thrown Ash "in the deep end", this literally reinforces what I'm saying about Serena fans thinking that whatever a female traveling companion of Ash's does to Ash in their eyes is automatically bad if she's made out to be his equal and dares to be her own character. Because that's not what Misty would do at all. He completely doesn't understand her character. She would have and has helped Ash whenever he's sick. On that note, what is it with Serena fans and slinging mud at Misty? I swear. They feel threatened by her.

He's right about Serena's "relationship" with Ash being a reason why she's "popular" among the periphery audience. But what he doesn't realize is that the same reason why she's "popular" is also her biggest flaw as a character. Like, he doesn't even question how Serena is able to remember Ash despite it being so long since she supposedly last saw him. (2-5 years before the XY anime, and for a very brief moment at that.) He also ignores that all of the flashbacks to Serena meeting Ash at Oak's Summer Camp are exclusively from Serena's PoV, as well as not questioning how Ash and Serena didn't stay in touch if they supposedly knew each other. And how does he figure that the writers loved Serena when, if they had their way, Serena wouldn't have been given the characterization that she was given? Calling it "wholesome" and "what gave fans diabetes" is just basically talking about the frosting covering the the cake that tastes like stale air. He then rambles on about how Serena sees Ash as a "selfless hero", pretty much talking about Serena's blind worship of him, and downplaying how over-the-top it is compared to the complements Ash got from other girls. Even calling Serena constantly blushing around Ash, and Ash giving her the kind of compliment that he'll give May and Dawn "wholesome" rather than seeing it as the hard-to-watch mess that it is. And again, putting the emphasis on Serena seeing Ash as both "someone who's good at battling", and "someone with a good soul", shows that he doesn't really care about Serena's character, and that he's ignored that other girls have seen Ash as someone with a good soul before without blindly worshipping him. And I struggle to see how anyone can call something so blatantly shipfic-y in an official work "special". He is right about how we're not going to to see something like Ash and Serena again. To which I say: GREAT! "AmourShipping" was a bad idea from the get-go, and should serve as a cautionary tale.

And the last point he tries to make is how the female traveling companions of Ash prior to Serena "didn't really have any much if any impact". Like, what does he mean by this? Story? On Ash? Misty pretty much played a big part in why Ash is as great of a trainer as he is now, and is why he's alive. She was responsible helping Ash discover the entrance to Cinnabar Gym. May was pretty much responsible for picking up the slack whenever Ash wasn't around, and had her own arc. Dawn was chosen by Mesprit to defend Sinnoh. And "mainly used as comedic relief or to fill in that 'girl' spot for the rest of the series"? How does he think that this somehow doesn't apply to Serena? And I don't know how he thinks that Iris is a step in the right direction when, while a breath of fresh air compared to Dawn and May, when she isn't exactly treading new ground. And he's just glazing Serena by saying that she's had a bigger purpose in the story as it progressed when it really wouldn't be different without her as it is with her. And as far as "providing a completely different contrast compared to a Pokémon Trainer" is concerned, Lillie does that job far better due to being her own character and coming across as human as Misty while having her own arc herself, whereas Serena just comes across as no different from a Bond Girl or a one-off "love-interest" for Jim Kirk that isn't named Carol Marcus. He then goes on to praise Showcases, even though they're pretty much a dumbed down Pokémon Contest rip-off. And how does she lose time and time again when her only notable loss is her first ever Showcase, which she didn't really learn anything from? And her impact on Ash's character as a whole is basically non-existent, given that she doesn't even cross Ash's mind in Journeys when he thought about his travels in Kalos, and even almost ran past her like how Shulk ran past Melia. And he fails to realize that Serena actually did to Ash something that would help someone speedrun the ending of a friendship with a depressed person in real life, making his situation about her than about him. Plus, Ash would have gotten out of his funk without her "help". And the entire scene got retconned in Journeys, anyways. And honestly. What "lessons" did she give him that he didn't or shouldn't already know before the XY anime? Her role in helping shape Ash into the trainer who would go on to win the world championship is negligible. And in case he didn't notice, the Ash following the XY anime IS the same Ash from all the way back in Indigo League but grown up mentally, and definitely not due to anything that Serena actually did. Also, Ash learned the lesson that "it's okay to lose" all the way back in Orange Islands, where Serena doesn't even make an appearance. Instead, Ash learned that lesson from LORELEI, and in a later episode, Misty reiterated the lesson that Lorelei taught him. And once again, saying that Serena "beat the jerk and sassy trope" shows his lack of care towards Serena. The fact that he even brings up the "kiss", which even Yajima himself said could have been a whisper in Ash's ear for all he knew, is emblematic of how he really sees Serena.

And really? Does he really have the audacity to ask "how could you not love her"? He's clearly spent no time outside of the echo chamber, and no time in circles where Serena is criticized because of how her character was mishandled. And he definitely spoke to nobody who actually likes Serena as a character that feels like her potential as a character was outright wasted by the direction the showrunners took with her.

As for what I think about Serena's character? I think that she sucks. Period.

[helluvapurf]

...so uhhhhh, "Apology Tour" was... *interesting*-

Didn't even seem that long ago since "Full Moon" came out so I didn't expect another ep drop this morning, buuuut welp! Lets discuss:

First off just to smoothen things up a bit, The Positives:

-Animation & visuals were quite pretty, and wasn't expecting the whole "spooky Halloween" aesthetic at Verosika's party (tho that may just be the summer season speaking lol) but hey, I kinda dig it~ 👀

-Verosika in-general, I was super stoked to see more of here! 💜and even with her staying pretty sassy/bitter towards Blitz... its honestly hard not to feel for her once she & him finally had that one-on-one convo (even revealing that she did legit love him... but Blitz simply couldn't stay with her due to his own commitment/intimacy issues ;-; ). And even if it was technically more of a pettiness move to theme her party around hating Blitz... in a way, its lowkey kinda sweet how much she wanted to help others "heal" from heartbreak? Aww... 🥺 Idk, do I still wish Verosika could've been more of the "major" character focus here (as Fizzarolli was in his past couple eps)? Absolutely. But for what its worth... I had fun watching her as I did💗 (& hopefully this won't be the last time Verosika appears story-wise, cause oml imagine the bonding potential of her, Blitz & Fizz as a reunited trio lol)

-That one incubus dude that flirted with Stolas (+kissed him) at the end seemed like a chill dude. Even if he most likely won't appear again, his vibe was fun to watch lol.

-OH, we finally get to see Mrs. Mayberry again, sweet~! :> ...and, she's apparently dating Martha now? Huh, thats... interesting, I guess? .3. (*wonder what happened to her husband/kids tho, 'cause I kiiiinda thought they would've landed in Hell too ngl-*)

...aaaaand okay yeah, that'll cover the Positives I've got atm. Now for The Negatives... ohhhhh boy:

-I... guess I'm not super alone in this opinion rn from what I've read from other fans, buuuuut... Stolas can you shut your entitled-hypocrite-mouth up for five minutes, please?? 🤦‍♀️Like, I know the dude's still reeling from how "Full Moon" ended, so him being in a mixed mood is to be expected tbh... but omllllll the way he was just SO smug, dramatic and pushy about being the "good guy" in how he & Blitz ended (-as if HE wasn't the one who set up their whole "transactional" dynamic since the start of the freakin' show?? =_=), even whining about the events of "Western Energy" (-when all Blitz was doing was prioritizing his daughter's well-being at the hospital, like a good dad should), was just... seriously?? >> Like... yes, Blitz may be a whole mess himself with how he's treated others (esp poor Verosika 💔), but that does NOT make Stolas a saint with how he handled things himself. From hanging the Grimoire over Blitz's head, creeping on him again & again, practically ragdoll-ing the poor guy's feelings during the crystal exchange (not even skipping a bit when Blitz was close to crying), aaaaand not to mention...

...so like, tell me how I'm expected to believe Blitz is the one who needs to do all this apologizing/groveling... WHEN HE DIDN'T EVEN DO ANYTHING TO STOLAS EXCEPT (RIGHTFULLY) CALLING THIS BLUEBLOOD BIRD OUT ON HIS BS?? 😑

*sighs* Sorry, didn't mean to get heated there but... yiiiikes is this show sending so many mixed messages of where I'm supposed to stand with these two, I can't keep up anymore- 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

-As much as I get what the ep was trying to do in having Blitz see past his own ego/apologize to others… Iiiiii'd be lying if I said I didn't feel just a tad bit uncomfortable at the increasing Blitz hate, throughout the party-sequence ^^; Like, I know he's a shitty guy who's done shitty things, and absolutely he needs to recognize how much he's hurt those like Verosika (& his other exes)… buuuuut tying into my previous point, it just rings rather unfair that most of this seems mostly spurned from him rejecting Stolas, of all people? ._. When… again, they were NEVER an actual couple like him & Verosika were, instead were just a simple once-a-month hookup deal that soured 'cause of Stolas' mess of a "confession"… y'all really expect me to believe Blitz is the bad guy for not immediately accepting the "feefee's" of a privileged, horny prince (aka: the one who did hold the Grimoire over his head since S1's "Murder Family")? …Ehhhh, sorry but I am NOT buying that crap lmao -x- 👎

[writingquestionsanswered]

I've had this idea for a story for years, and I finally finished a draft.

Do I start writing the sequel now or do I edit the first manuscript so it'll be ready for publication?

Also my partner wants the twins to be together but they're separate for story reasons. She wants the evil twin to get a redemption but I personally don't.

When I told her my plans she cried about it. I don't want to hurt people with my writing but I don't want to comply with everything my fans suggest, even if one of them is my partner.

I'm just not sure how to handle this situation.

Writing Sequel Before Publication & Pleasing Fans

Whether or not to write the sequel before you publish the first story is a matter of personal preference. Some people do prefer to write both before publishing the first, others wait. A good middle ground, if you want one, is to write a zero draft (a really, really rough draft) or a beginning to end summary. That way, when it's time to write the sequel and the first book is published, you don't find yourself scrambling to figure out the story.

As for your partner's disappointment in your story plans... I don't know if I would call that "hurting" anyone. "Disappointment," yes, but no one should be "hurt" because your story goes in a different direction than they want it to. That level of entitlement (whether it's from an unknown fan or your beloved partner) goes beyond what is reasonable for readers/fans. No reader or fan deserves to have your story fit their individual expectations.

I think what I'd do in this situation is just let your partner know you love that they have opinions about your story, but that you're going to stick with what's best for the story you want to tell. If they continue to give you a hard time about it, let them know that their expectations have an adverse effect on your creativity, so you would appreciate their support and understanding instead. ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[bottlepiecemuses]

Let’s Be Honest He Appeals To Women A Different Way

People call Oda Oda sexist, but in my opinion focusing on his target demographic isn’t bad. Girls aren’t excluded but I think it’s good he’s not automatically pandering to them through romance because in my opinion if he did those elements would feel forced in this show. And I think unintentional pandering to your unintended audience tends to be better than when you intentionally do so and it could potentially turned off that segment. 

The most obvious attraction that women have to this series is the dilf hot males, especially the villains. Seriously, it’s really the most unintentional of pandeirng that Oda creates these types of villains and the female audience eats it up. While most shonen series focuses on hot young men, this series give attraction to old men as well and we female fans are eating it all up. 

And again the female characters, despite the criticisms of same character mold I do think when it comes down to it excluding romance has helped. Seriously, while on the surface level the latter three are attractive and used for fan service, Oda does his best to also flesh out their characters. For instance, Nami and Robin are different types of smart guys on the crew and are critical to helping Luffy on his journey by traveling safely through the world and knowing the secrets about the messages of the Poneglyphs. In my opinion, it makes them stand out to me because they serve more than fanservice but also as people who have their place in the story. They might not get as much fights, but they manage to be strong female characters in their own right. 

Another is Vivi who isn’t the strongest fighter but has the strongest spirit and has taken on evil organizations and now the government itself to stand up for what she believes is right. Vivi might not be an official member but she is in spirit a close secret ally of the crew and her presence really brought a great dynamic from the crew that makes them all still miss her being around. 

And finally Big Mom why is she on this list, because interesting enough Oda could have just made her a one dimensional fat fuck, but instead he made her a complex character even though she’s a villainess. And even though everything she’s gone through is not an excuse for her behavior, it still makes her a compelling character to read because again someone like her ended up this way because so many people wanted to use her and enable her worst qualities for their selfish ends. And in the end we have a woman who not only can’t emphasize with people and feels entitled to everything due to how she was taught to see the world. In my opinion Oda, didn’t have to do this but I am glad and it makes antagonists like her very happy to see. 

And again even though One Piece isn’t about romance, it really gives compelling canon couples some spotlight. Seriously, one of them is Capone and Chiffon, who you wouldn’t think make a wholesome couple but they do. He seriously showers this woman who was so abused by her mother for what her sister did and adores the son they have together. He even goes up against her brother who was going to kill her even though she pleaded to leave her. This guy really does love his wife and would anything for her like a real man would. And again in my opinion, lovey dovey romance is something Oda will never do but I admit I think any woman would want a man like Capone to stand up for her like that. And in my opinion, if you ever see a married couple in this franchise you will bet your ass that married couple will have something deep and lasting. With exceptions being Yassop and Big Mom herself. 

[randomfoggytiger]

My thoughts on the Chris Carter discourse.

I think I sit on the fence regarding the gendered violence issue in The X-Files. Yet, I also recognize CC's shortcomings-- pouring his energy into being a provocateur rather than a coherent show writer.

**Note**: Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. This is mine.

The show's violence against women isn't skewered in a sexist, one-way direction to me: gendered violence is perpetrated against both sexes equally; and the male cast and crew even joked about Mulder constantly getting beat up or tortured during CC's mytharc episodes. Not only that, but children and men as well as women are kidnapped or abducted and raped (or mind raped) and tortured and killed in equal measure.

The problem begins and ends, I believe, with Chris's ego. He views his show as a SHOW, not a beloved series cherished by fans. To him, Mulder and Scully and their children are literal paper dolls he created and played (plays) with like the Sims-- lighting them on fire, putting them through insane or ridiculous scenarios, and always resetting them back to normal at the end.

The "problem" is, the fans do not see Mulder and Scully as Sims models (pardon the references, got into the game lately) but as living, breathing characters with blood, sweat, and tears poured into their portrayals. Gillian took the role seriously and wanted it to make sense; and fans felt her passion and dedication, and honored the years she put in at her own inconvenience (over and over.)

David doesn't mind following CC's creative vision-- he views art differently than GA, and that's just fine, too. The difference is (I believe): Chris Carter honors David's viewpoint because it aligns with his own; but sloughs off, ignores, or discredits Gillian's because it opposes his.

Chris Carter has an ego (he does, it is what it is); and that rubs audiences the wrong way when they contrast his actions towards DD (letting him read scripts earlier than Gillian, likely knowing David'll give a "wow, interesting" rather than outright critical remark) and GA (who sacrificed a lot to come back and was pretty much ignored every step of the way, even now.) David shrugs off what Chris writes for his character-- which is fine, that's his prerogative-- while Gillian does not-- which is also fine, that's her prerogative. Chris, however, does not treat them equally.

I say this not to hate on Chris. I dislike him, but I respect the characters, show, and world of The X-Files. All things being fair, it was his brainchild.

However: every person that will ever exist has their own perspective, feelings, and emotions regarding what they do or don't love. Fans and Gillian wanted The X-Files to make sense, to honor its characters, to craft an unforgettable journey between two unforgettable characters. Chris Carter did not-- which, again, is fine. But where he continues to fail is by throwing jabs at perspectives other than his own.

Because when you create a timeline that makes no logical sense (powered by plot twists that also make no logical sense) and expect your lead actress and fans who have spent time and energy and money on your franchise not to give you criticism or express their disappointment (and even anger)-- and, further, imply they "don't get it" or aren't "real fans" because of said criticisms-- then...

That's where you (Chris Carter) have a problem.

[mortalityplays]

i am sick like you as an incredibly casual fan who has since stepped back since october but was still following active blogs for it and i was always meaner than all of them so i like to watch it all go down and make fun of them but holy fuck its not even the half of it. there's a post somewhere that's one of those updates for "season 3 being possible" where one of the pieces of evidence is an actor from the show posted a picture of a woman who had 3 pigeons in front of her. and the person who posted this was like 37. 😭 they're all so insane and the second you say anything otherwise it's ruining hope and being condescending like oh my god it's a tv show girls...

to be honest like basic decency aside this entire thing is so ridiculous at its core i've never seen fandom brainrot at this level i know that's probably not TRUE and all fandom brainrot can end up like this but sooo many of them are so unself-aware it gives me a migraine. since when has throwing a tantrum a show got cancelled entitle you to getting another season 😭 they keep repeating that they deserve it and that they're so sad for the actors i even saw someone be like "making fun of the cancellation is ultimately cruel bc it means the crew who aren't millionaires and just everyday people are now out of a job, you're all being classist"... half of the ppl who post about it don't even ACTUALLY post about it anymore it's just been "renewal efforts" for two weeks now like holy fuck can you not take a hint... they seriously think asking netflix in the suggestion forms to do a season 3 is actually going to work if they just Believe Enough in the power of being 35

ok last ask I'm publishing for now bc it's an actual exit narrative lmao.

this touches on something I keep thinking about: the bizarre misunderstanding the fandom seems to have about how TV works. they talk about the actors and crew as if this one show was supposed to be their magnum opus and now they're all just sitting at home lamenting the loss of their livelihoods, and not signing new contracts, taking new auditions, moving on to other opportunities. they have this idea that they're going to persuade another network to pick the show back up, as if an entire TV production crew, sets, costumes, props etc. are a modular unit that goes on a shelf in a shoebox when it's not in use. it's very weird and kind of fascinating.

[sgiandubh]

What about Grandma then? In recent days, that Barbour issue has been discussed in several corners of this fandon, as you said. Well, the day before yesterday Garance was posting stories showing off his Barbour coats...Obviously those two also follow the topics discussed on Tumblr. 🤷‍♀️

Dear Garance Anon,

You will have to forgive me for the very, very late answer. I wanted to give it my full, undivided attention, because I believe we never spoke seriously about Mrs. Mariline Fiori, aka Garance Doré.

The short answer to your comment is 'oh, but we know they do, as we know they are not the only ones'. Unlike S&C, though, the McGrandmas might see us as a free, useful toolbox of sorts, where readily available ideas congregate. Remember they have deliberately calibrated their public couple personas on exactly what SC are unable and/or unwilling to give/show this fandom. To some extent, it works and, as any good Frenchwoman, Garance understood she was savvy to play the atout charme joker card. Which is exactly what she does - also, being French, she knows exactly what type of European public is instantly attracted to the Barbour reference: a public whose wallets she needs.

But as I just said, your post made me think about Mrs. Doré. Who is she, really? So, sorry, Anon, if I use you as a springboard for my musings.

She was, as I said, born Mariline Fiori, on May 1st (same day as JAMMF, LOL) 1977, in Ajaccio, Corsica's main town and birthplace of Napoleon Bonaparte. Not a Corsican, though (same as Napoleon, LOL): Italian father, French/Algerian mom. People who left Algeria when it became independent, after the Evian Peace Accords, and whom the metropolitan French still call, to these day, 'pieds-noirs' (literally and quite derogatorily, 'black feet'). Her family's social status is, however, a bit unclear, as Mrs. Fiori successively played with her personal story in interviews, in what the French also sarcastically call 'des petits arrangements avec la vérité'/ a bit of tinkering with the truth.

In this 2019 interview to Elle UK, for example, her parents are described as owning a restaurant in Corsica (https://www.elle.com/uk/life-and-culture/a29758314/garance-dore-original-influencer/):

But in another 2013 interview to The Talks, her mother was a shrink (https://the-talks.com/interview/garance-dore/):

Also, for the sake of clarity:

Oh, well: different country, different crowd/market, different agenda and perhaps older and wiser when talking to Elle UK, you would think?

Not necessarily and still a divisive figure for the international press/blogosphere. People did not appreciate her frequent flying and luxury travels during COVID, for example, along with her 'white, bourgeois woman entitlement'. Both in New Zealand...

(Source: https://www.ensemblemagazine.co.nz/articles/garance-dore-new-zealand - I think you should read the entire article, as it is absolutely enlightening, also something I wouldn't go polemic about, you make up your own mind, really).

...and in France, where they apparently are not very fond of her 'cult of personality' approach to social media, to say the least:

(Source: https://www.madmoizelle.com/a-t-on-vraiment-besoin-de-preter-attention-aux-conseils-antivax-des-influenceuses-1145916 Non Francophones could use Google Translate, but considerably lose in doing so the ferocity of the writing - but then, again, the French press is particularly sarcastic & ferocious, when set against someone or something. I love them to bits.)

The translation is clear, and I deliberately did not insist on the political stance of the article, whose title gives a straightforward idea: 'Do we really have to pay attention to the influencers' antivax advice?':

'This influencer cannot singlehandedly convert a part of her fans to antivaxing, via Instagram, but this comforts those who already thought so and keeps them even more hooked. This is because Instagram is a social media whose model heavily relies on shared affinities, meaning that it congregates likeminded people and creates bubble phenomena, of which GD is a good example.

GD, who built an empire around her handle which she turned into a brand and transformed her own lifestyle into her best product might very well turn her cult of personality into an economic model. Many celebrities already do so and are perfectly entitled to. But in her case, we are not talking about sending a birthday personalized cameo, we are talking about dispensing health advice during a pandemic.'

Truly, Ha-wa-wee 2.0 sounds like kindergarten compared to the above and never made it so far and wide in the international press. But hey, don't we know, double standard is the law of this land.

But to cut the story short, because it's 5 AM in here and we'd be talking about Mrs. McGrandma until tomorrow evening, do we really imagine someone so well versed in the ways and means of social media not following Tumblr?

Yeah, thought so, too.

[bandaidpennylane]

Who the hell does this raging lunatic think she is? Does she think she owns Pamela Courson? That she is the only one who has a right to post her? Get outta here! What is it about people writing books about Pam that makes them go fucking bonkers? First Patricia Butler. That one wrote Angels Dance Angels Die. Now we have this unhinged lunatic, who named her spider Pamela. Should we be so surprised? 🤦‍♀️

There's a reason why your Facebook page is a flop. 4 thousand followers after 15-20 years of "research." 🤭 You should have never abandoned your Tumblr page. 🤷‍♀️ It was a bit more successful with followers. But seriously lady, being an unhinged lunatic for 20 years doesn't help your reputation. How's that book going? Still can't get any publisher to publish it huh. 🤭 People don't like you Raeanne. This goes way back to the years on the Lizard Lounge where you attacked everyone. You were as crazy then as you are now. The only reason you have 4,000 Facebook followers is because people are interested in the photos you post. They don't follow you because they like you. In actuality, your followers despise you. Even the people who kiss your ass. If only you knew what they say behind your back.🤭 It shouldn't come to you as a surprise. You caused the divide and hatred. Your vitriol over the years has damaged Pamela's memory. You hold pictures hostage. You tag pictures you don't own. But you paid $900 for them! Of course you own them! That's not how it works and you know that's not how it works! You buy prints. Not the ownership of those photos! I could buy those same photos for $400-$900. The difference is I wouldn't tag them like you do because I'm not an asshole like you. The way you use to tag the Themis photos was gross. You absolute lunatic. Then you have a fit when people point out your behavior! 20 years! 20 fucking years Raeanne! Waaaah! I'm mad! You post my photos! Waaah you post ugly photoshops! Waaaah! I'm going to close my page! 🙄 Please do. Close it. Once and for all just close it. If it brings you peace of mind, just fucking close it. The way you rage about photoshopped photos of Pam but you posted a whole ass ridiculous set of AI images of her. 🤔 Guess what that makes you? A hypocrite with zero AI skills. 🤷‍♀️ I doubt you will close your page permanently. You love the ass kissing too much to quit it, even if it's coming from people who despise you. This is like the 10th time you quit. 🤭 But seriously lady, get some real help. Stop raging online and attacking other Pam fans. Do you know how pathetic you come across? 20 years of this vitriolic behavior. Close your page and self publish that stupid book of yours. Enough is enough!

A humorous and ironic update. Raeanne replied to a follower who basically called her out for her shitty AI Pam pictures. 😁🤌

It looks like Raeanne deleted some of Melissa's comments leaving just this one. I don't know who you are Melissa Owens but thank you. The hypocrisy and unhinged audacity coming from this bitch. Thank you!

It's been 48 hours and this bitch hasn't deleted her page. Of course she hasn't. 🥱

Yet another update! It gets more and more ridiculously entitled the more she speaks out. We are brats for posting photos of Pam!!! How dare other writers don't credit them!!!! They are ripping them off! How dare them!!! We are an epidemic of entitled brats!!! 😁🤭😄

Go fuck yourself Raeanne. You been eating out of your own ass for far too long. You have crossed every line of decency. Get help you crazy bitch! 🫣

[mhevarujta]

I'm genuinely sorry for fans of Azriel who like him less in the bonus chapter and take Rhys' distortion of his feelings to be canon.

Like, we as readers are meant to know better. Azriel does not see himself as a good person. More than that he sees himself as tainted. Finally pursuing someone that he like to the extend he does Elain, even if it's just for once, a surrender in the moment, is a threshold for his character. He even feels watched only by the Mother. He feels benevolence in having that moment.

And there comes Rhys, not only hindering, but equating the situation to the meaningless sex Azriel has had and speaking of entitlement, which can be misinterpreted into but is not inherent in Azriel's words. Because Azriel questioning whether the cauldron was wrong was not about being entitled. It was about having the depth of emotions that makes him question whether this woman should be his mate, since to the fae, and especially to males this is the strongest bond they can have. This was never about what Azriel feels he deserves, each shimply about the strength of what he feels.

In fact, it's insensitive of Rhys to make this about being 'worthy' when he's speaking to a friend as insecure as Azriel, who COULD say his opinion about Lucien (I love Lucien by the way and not shipping him with Elain for me is not about him being unworthy, but I understand why someone who sees him antangonistically and doesn't really know him would want to think that). He could not say that HE himself is worthy of her though, because he doesn't believe it, and the LAST thing he needed was his worthiness to be questioned by one of his best friends. Certain readers entertaining that Rhys' words are the bible and should be taken at face-value, instead of just the means to instigate romantic and political conflict for the next book, are wrond and are seriously missing out on Azriel's character.