#that isn’t being an obsessive creep on the internet

[waugh-bao]

[merrybloomwrites]

Safe and Sound

Summary: Being an online personality on a well known Youtube channel comes with it's fair amount of attention. But when one fan starts to get too close for comfort, Spencer is there to keep you safe.

Word Count: 2.6K

CW: stalker, getting drugged

AN: Another story for Whumptober! This has been in my mind for awhile so I'm happy to share this protective Spencer story with you all! It's a bit of a heavier story again so please make sure to note the content warning and please don't read if those topics make you uncomfortable or trigger you in any way.

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You always knew that there are people on the internet that are creeps. Or are just plain weird. Getting a job as a cast member as Smosh only confirmed that fact. 

It doesn’t happen every time you're in a video, but you’ll occasionally see some odd comments about you. People who hate you, people who love you a bit too much, people who notice the tiniest, most random things about you. It’s a bit off-putting, but not enough to really concern you. They’re just randos on the internet you will never interact with in real life. 

But then you start to get this weird feeling whenever you leave your apartment. You figure you’re just being paranoid, but still, it’s uncomfortable. Almost as though you’re being watched. 

It’s disconcerting, but temporary, and by the time you arrive at work, or the grocery store, or the local bar to hang with friends, you’ve forgotten all about it. 

And then the letters start. Letters sent to your apartment with no return address. They’re typed, even your address isn’t handwritten but rather stamped on. 

As though the anonymity wasn’t bad enough, the content of the letters had your anxiety spiking. The person was clearly unwell, and obsessed with you. Sentences like, “I need to have you,” and “you will be mine” are all too common in their writing. 

You bring the letters to the police and explain what your job is to give context of how this stalker probably found you. They say they’ll look into it, but there’s not much they can do. 

Disheartened, you try to protect yourself as much as you can. You get extra locks for your doors and windows, as well as install cameras to catch anyone who may get close to your home. It’s not much, but at least you can feel a bit safer when you’re at your apartment.

You tell Ian and Anthony as well as a couple other higher ups at Smosh to make them aware of the situation. They ask if you want to take a step back from appearing in videos for the time being, but you want to continue on like usual. Whoever this person is, you refuse to let them force you to change things about your life. 

The letters continue, roughly one a week for a few months. You bring all of them to the police, trying to help get to the bottom of this, but you have nothing else to go on. 

Then one day as you leave for work, you have that feeling of being watched once again. You scan the area and notice a person sitting on a bench in the park across the street. Which wouldn’t be weird, except this man seems to be looking directly at you. It could be a coincidence, but something has you feeling like it may be something more sinister. You take out your phone and try to discreetly take a video of this person. 

You debate over sending the video to the police officer you’ve been in contact with, but since the person isn’t doing anything obviously nefarious, it would probably be a waste of everyone’s time. You do show it to Ian when you get to the office. You’re not sure why you share it, maybe you want him to validate you that it’s weird, or maybe you want him to tell you it’s totally normal and everything is fine. 

What you don’t realize is that it isn’t just you and Ian in the kitchen, but that Spencer has overheard the conversation as well. 

“Wait, what’s going on?” he says, walking over to you, a confused look on his face.

“I, uhm, well I kind of seem to have a stalker,” you state.

“Oh my god. Are you okay? Are you safe?” he asks worriedly.

 “Yea. I mean, I think so. Mostly it’s just letters getting mailed to my house. But I’ve been having this weird feeling like I’m being watched. And there was this guy looking at me from the park this morning, but I think that’s just a coincidence.”

“Y/N, that’s-” he stands there at a loss for words. “That sounds dangerous, like bad news waiting to happen.”

“I’ve gone to the police,” you explain. “They have all the information I have. But there’s nothing they can do, at least not yet.”

“You mean not until something bad happens. I hate that.” 

“I’ve done everything I can to protect my home so I feel safe there. If I didn’t then I wouldn’t stay.”

“I’m glad to hear that. But if you ever don’t feel safe, you can come stay with me,” Spencer says.

“Or me,” Ian adds. 

“Thanks guys. I promise that if it gets worse then I’ll take one of you up on that offer.” 

It’s nice to know that they have your back, that you have places you can go if anything were to happen. Because while you try to stay positive, you can’t lie. You’re scared. You’re scared that whoever this person is will do something more serious. And as terrifying as that is, you’re less anxious knowing you have people you can turn to. 

More weeks pass, and the letters continue. You see the same man twice more at the park, taking videos each time. After the third, you do send all of them to the police, since there now seems to be a pattern. The officer you speak with assures you that they’re looking into it, trying to identify the man. She also asks you to call them if he shows up again.

The following Friday a group of your friends decide to hang at a local bar to celebrate the end of a long filming week. You have a drink, dance with some friends, and for a moment, you forget about your problems.

But the feeling of being watched comes back. This time it’s worse than ever, your skin prickling with anxiety. Scanning the room, you notice a man whose eyes are locked on you. He looks vaguely familiar, but you can’t place where you might know him from.

Brushing it off, you go up to the bar to order another drink. It’s a busy night, and the bar is crowded so it takes a few minutes for you to get served. You scan the room, trying to find that guy again but you’ve lost him amongst the sea of people. 

When you look back at the bar your cocktail is waiting for you so you place down your cash, grab your drink, and head back to your friends. You dance with them again, taking sips of your drink and just letting loose.

After a little while you start to feel a bit dizzy and figure that the cocktail must be pretty strong. You slow down, drinking less and trying to take deep breaths to combat the lightheadedness. It doesn’t seem to be helping, and you start to feel a bit nauseous, so you excuse yourself to the bathroom. 

You walk to the hallway on unsteady legs, and miraculously are able to use the restroom. You slowly wash your hands, concentrating deeply on the task. 

On your way back to your friends you get confused, taking a wrong turn and going down the wrong hallway. It’s dark back here, and if you were more coherent you’d realize that customers aren’t supposed to be here, and the only door leads to a storage room. 

Turning around you find that you’re suddenly not alone. A tall man is there smiling at you. It’s not someone you recognize but you have a vague sense that you should know him. He steps closer and you start to feel anxious, not liking the situation you’ve found yourself in. 

“Excuse me,” you try to say, but your mouth feels almost numb, and you’re not sure the words actually came out. 

“I’m glad I found you Y/N,” he says. You stare at him, trying to figure out how you know him. “It’s time to get going, sweetheart.”

He starts to lead you away and you follow, unable to come up with a reason to stay. The music gets louder, lights are flashing in your eyes, and you’re becoming more and more disoriented. 

The next thing you know, a group of your friends are frantically speaking to you, the man nowhere to be found. You desperately try to focus on any one thing, but it’s chaos all around you. Hands cup your face and you flinch before meeting the eyes of the person who placed them there so gently. 

“Spencer?” you ask, needing confirmation that your muddled mind has at least one thing correct.

“Yea, it’s Spencer,” he replies as he moves his hands off of you, relieved that he now has your attention. “Can you tell me what happened?”

You shake your head no.

“Do you know who that man is?” Spencer asks.

Again you just shake your head.

You sway on your feet and Spencer quickly steps in and helps you sit on the floor. You lean your head back against the wall, but you find that makes the dizziness worse, so you rest it on your knees instead. You’re turned to look at Spencer, needing to focus on something safe right now. 

There’s more commotion, and you watch as Spencer speaks with a couple of people in uniform. He places a calming hand on your back and tries asking you more questions, but everything is too murky for you to understand.

You’re so drowsy, and you stop fighting your heavy eyelids, letting them close as the world around you finally goes quiet.

You’re not out for long, waking up a short while later in the ambulance. Spencer is still there, now holding onto your hand. 

At the hospital a lovely doctor checks you over to make sure you’re not injured. She takes blood and gives you some IV hydration. By the time you’re discharged, the world has stopped spinning and you’re able to understand and answer the questions you’re being asked. 

Two of the police officers come to the hospital to speak with you now that you’re more coherent, and you tell them about the man. One of the officers is the woman you’d been in contact with regarding the letters and the stranger at the park and she pulls up the pictures you had taken as well as a still from the security footage from the bar.

Your blood runs cold as you realize that it is absolutely the same person. Just a moment ago you were reeling from the fact that you had been roofied. And now you find out that it wasn’t just some random guy that did it, but instead one who has been stalking you for months. You weren’t drugged on some whim. This had to have been planned, thought out for who knows how long. 

You keep it together until the police officers leave and then you turn to Spencer, eyes wide and filling with tears.

After taking a deep breath you say, “Thank you so much for finding me. I can’t imagine what he would have done if you hadn’t come looking for me.”

“I would never have been able to forgive myself if anything happened to you,” is his reply. 

You can’t think of anything to say in reply, so you choose to lean into his side instead. He wraps an arm around you, and it might be your imagination, but you think you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head. 

“C’mon. The guys dropped my car off, let’s get you home,” Spencer says. 

“No!” You quickly shout. “He knows where I live. He’ll find me there.”

“Y/N, they have him down at the police station. But I actually didn’t mean your home. I meant mine, if you’re alright with that.”

“Oh. Yes, please, I’m good with that.”

Spencer keeps his arm around your waist as he leads you out of the hospital and to his car in the nearby lot. He opens the passenger door and pulls out a sweatshirt. He helps you pull it over your head before you sit in the seat. You struggle a moment with the seatbelt, and he leans in to click it for you. It’s embarrassing, him having to do all of this because you’re still so shaky, but he doesn’t see it that way. 

He talks the whole way to his place, and you’re grateful for the random stories that fill the silence. It keeps your mind from slipping into the dark fearful thoughts that keep trying to pop up.

Once at his apartment he asks if you want to take a shower or get some sleep. 

“Shower first, if that’s okay?” you answer.

“Of course it’s okay. Whatever you need,” he replies. “I’ll get some breakfast ready as well. Anything particular you want?”

Your stomach is still unsettled so you ask if it’s possible to just have toast.

“I think I can handle toast,” he says with a smile, causing you to giggle. “I’ll make you a smoothie too, how does that sound?”

“Perfect.” 

Spencer leads you to the bathroom where he starts the shower and shows you how to change the temperature of the water. He steps out for a moment and comes back with a stack of clean clothes for you to wear.

“I’ll be right down the hall if you need anything,” he says before he leaves the room.

You shower as quickly as you can, wanting to get back to Spencer. Being alone is the last thing you want right now, but you also need to wash last night off of you so you can feel clean.

It feels amazing to slip into Spencer’s cozy sweats, his old, worn t-shirt, and soft hoodie. 

He’s in the kitchen and you watch as he butters toast and pours the smoothie into two cups. Breakfast is quiet as you focus on eating slowly so as to not upset your stomach. You finish as much as you can before the exhaustion really sets in. 

“C’mon, you need to sleep,” he says. The polite part of you wants to help clear the dishes as a thank you, but he’s right. You can barely stay upright on the way to his room. He closes the blinds and tucks you in, and you fall asleep almost immediately. 

You’re not sure how long you sleep before a nightmare has you jolting awake, screaming. 

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asks as he runs into the room. 

He sits on the bed beside you and you try to explain the dream you’d just had in which Spencer hadn’t saved the day and you’d ended up with that man. But as you go to speak nothing comes out except a shattered sob. 

Without hesitation he pulls you to him and holds you close. He gently rocks you as he tells you, “You’re safe, you got away, he can’t get you,” over and over until the message sinks in. 

You don’t say anything, but slowly your tears fade away and your eyes start to feel heavy once again. You want to lay back down and rest some more, but you don’t want Spencer to leave again.

“Stay. Please.” 

It’s all you get out before you fall back to sleep. 

You wake up hours later with Spencer still holding you, and for the first time in months, you know that you’re safe, and that everything is going to be okay.

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AN: Thank you for reading! I only have one or two more Spencer story ideas so lmk if you have any requests!

[chlmtsdoll]

BORN TO BE SEEN

Timothée Chalamet x female reader

☆ summary: dating an A-list movie star isn’t cut out for everyone, your exhaustingly in love and devoted to Timothée — but with his full schedule of press, interviews, and events it’s a non stop challenge to get your man alone.

☆ word count: 7.7k

☆ warnings: 18 +, smut, teasing, edging, mostly exhibitionism, oral (m) reviving, lots of pda, praise kink, pet names, dirty talk, heavy fluff, angst, obsession/worship

☆ A/N: I cannot believe this is my first ever Timmy fic after stanning him for years. I really let my fangirl flag fly so I hope this is well loved. Part two soon. 💋

There wasn’t anything but the landscape of a few stars scattered around the dark blues and grey of the night sky when your jet had finally landed. You hadn’t slept the whole flight. Not due to the anticipation of when you could finally lay eyes on your star boy after weeks of only getting as much as a couple late night calls and red carpet photos all over the internet from every journalist, high society article, or press outlet that could exist. You were proud. Maybe the proudest girlfriend out there, but there were times you could see how he fought the balance of it all not getting to his head.

The lights in the space that was exactly comforting to you were rising and you click your phone to check the time. Half after 3am.

You were tired, hell, only just pushing. But you couldn’t have been more awake with the adrenaline of getting your man for a whole three weeks that was starting to rush in.

“Okay, hotel is secured. They have your chauffeur waiting to take you straight there so you can rest, I’ll get your bags- -” your shared assistant that your boyfriend always kept around to take care of you when flying you out, was ready to go as she gently assured your stay. You already pictured it would be the most glamorous in-crowd hotel you could fathom. (Picked by him) you assumed there would be bodyguards with champagne even waiting for you outside this jet knowing your boyfriend.

But, you shook your head gently, with a smile. Already grabbing your designer purse to exit and get to fresh air finally. “No, no. I want to see him first.” You told your assistant and she only looked a tad stressed as she had already gotten out her phone to text a schedule change to the chauffeur.

“No problem, it’s already taken care of. I know he’s dying to see you.” Her voice had a flow of newfound tenderness to it — that made your blush heighten just a second before you and your bags were being escorted from the jet. Sure, there wasn’t a squander of sun out and lucky no paps to be found. But the moment your heel touched the gravel you pushed on your sunglasses (mainly to hide your tired eyes from your driver who was greeting you and taking your things in order.)

Scatter brained, you watched the lights of the new city you’d get used to for the next couple of weeks. Thinking and sorting out the plans you and your boyfriend would make in the wist of his tumultuous schedule. You knew he was a busy man. Maybe the busiest in the industry as we speak, all the promotion, press conferences and red carpets… with awards season creeping around the corner there was but so much time and attention he could give to you, his girl, in between.

The exhaustion, the flights back and forth. You did it all for him. And he made sure you’d be there to experience the bliss of having such a life so young. As much as possible.

His sweet reminders of just how much your hard working man adored you even through the chaos of it all. The world at his finger tips — you were always on his mind.

Even if the moments in between could be the sweetest you’d maybe ever experience, your love and his fame, it was a rollercoaster time to time. And the media wasn’t a first grade class, the pressure of it could be a thing of its own.

Everyone knew that you were the movie stars supporting and to put it as they say ‘almost annoyingly visually perfect’ girlfriend. They all were obsessed with the bond you shared. The it-couple factor you have. Your all too well, put together clothing that possessed the it-girl factor they all feed off of right beside your boyfriend. And you’d seen how his fans could nearly feel how obsessed with each other you are, through every snap of a camera shot that was published of the two of you.

And of course, that came with struggles, the public isn’t known for always being nice. But that’s what pushed the two of you even closer. He was there to protect you from it all, never making you feel like a burden in his limelight.

The idea of seeing him in just a few had your teeth bearing into your bottom lip, with a crooked smile and a soft squeeze to the hem of your skirt, you’d been pulling up to the dimly lit back entrance of the venue. You remembered him saying he’d be working late for a last minute photoshoot for his upcoming snl performance. He’s been over the moon about it and you hadn’t complained once every time you’d been a giggling mess when he’d run with his excitement of being back over the phone with you, no matter how late or early.

You missed him.

Before the driver could come to a halt, you’d already been grabbing your purse to jump out of the car.

“This way,” your assistant, right behind, had voiced to you — but as you go close to the door, the driver was peaking at your absence of the back seat.

“I can wait out here, ms. I know you had a long flight, there’s no problem.”

“Oh.. no, it’s fine, take a lap. I won’t be quick.” You flashed him a small thankful smile as your assistant braced your back gently to lead you inside the venue.

There wasn’t much to it. A long hallway, an elevator, and another long hallway. You knew he’d definitely not be expecting you to have came straight to see him, probably not wanting to bother you with texts thinking you’d be fast asleep under the warmth of luxury hotel sheets at this hour.

You hadn’t told him you landed anyways after all.

So you hoped the click of your heels against the floors as your assistant guided you to the back green rooms wouldn’t ruin the surprise.

Soon just hearing him made the tightness in your stomach come escalating when you sought out the sound of his voice. A few doors down. You could tell he’d been conversing in a way that he’d sure been smiling ear to ear. And your favorite tune there is, his follow up laughter that echoed as you got closer. Your favorite sound. Your obsession. Your home after another lonely flight.

There wasn’t another man out there like Timothee.

Stopping to watch him from the doorway first, your arms folded as your heart melted. You watch him take up the space in the room like second nature.

He’d been goofing around with his photographer Aidan. His hair an untamed state that looked dreamy as is, standing lean and stature in some ridiculously colorful outfit that he made look effortlessly cool. He moved his hands expressive as ever as he laughs in a humble tune. And his smile, oh, his smile in your opinion, could save lives if the right people were in charge.

Your assistant walked ahead, but Timothée hadn’t noticed you just yet — he’d been pretending to create some kind of silly music video with his photographer trailing around him, as undeniably impressed in a way you had no doubt was a reaction your boyfriend had no issue bringing out of anyone who’s around him. His fingers blaze through his hair quickly, trying his best not to laugh too much at his own radiance.

He was perfect like this. In his element. So beautiful in a star-like way that for a moment your smile was so large to the point your face began to hurt. You forgot you’re not just watching him on a tiny screen anymore — but right now. In real time. Your angel boy being right in front of you.

And then there’s something that shifts, after a mere few minutes of conversation, something in his expression notes he’s already aware of your presence, like he feels you there. When he does finally turns around, with that soft boyish grin creeping up on his lips, eyes full of something playful, and that damn charm — you barely have time to sink in how good he looks before,

“You came all this way just to stare ?”

You giggle out a soft squeal and there was not much to say before you were springing to be swept up in his arms. Heels once against the floor now being lifted as Timmy held you to him like it’s been more than a couple weeks, like centuries. Your lips mesh on instant, unhesitatingly taking it in with a little “mmm” of satisfaction. You wrapped your arms over his shoulders and his grip around you was firm with warmth. He smirked into the kiss, you could feel it even with your eyes closed, the tickle of his mustache — new yet familiar, you let out giggles in between the perfectly timed and soft yet daring kisses he left that said ‘fuck I missed you.’

Days of distance melting away and the two of you were completely unbothered by anyone around watching, already swooning and playfully shaking their heads knowing the magnitude you shared as a couple. Even as your boyfriend set you back to your feet, you’d still been trying to grasps a leg around him, feel the roots of his hair through your fingers. And he couldn’t let up on you either as he kissed on your face till you were a mess of laughter.

It felt like highschool. Timmy’s team, his photographer, your assistants — they didn’t exist in your reality. It’s just you and him.

“I missed you.. what are you doing here, baby ? I thought you'd be at the suite by now,” Timothee voiced softly as he pushed a few of your locks out of your face to see you. Eyes sparking up at him like it was the first time. Your smile beaming, and you held his wrists.

“I couldn’t wait to see you.. I had to see you ! It’s been three weeks, Timmy.”

“I know,” He laughs and leaned in to peck your cheek, your hands ghost over his rhinestone necklace with admiration and your eyes inch down his body of intermixed clothing of colors and brands, you grin.

“This is.. a look.”

“You like ?” His grin was back and you bit your lip just enough to bring the pride to his expression. Your eyes flicker over his studded belt.

“You know I love everything on you,” Your voice was humming of flirtatious notes towards your man, you drape your arms over his shoulders again and Timothee managed to keep his cordial manner but slightly licked over his bottom lip and scanned just over your head to check for the attention of the room, and to your luck, his team members had gone about what they’d been doing before your arrival. So, Timothee’s hands gracefully on your waist, flow a bit lower as he kept you close and under the gaze of his hooded green eyes. You were stuck there.

His fingers graze over the tight fitted mini skirt you had been flaunting. A light grey cashmere. You could tell he was holding back from the three weeks weight of not being close enough to feel the heat of your skin — trying to fight it’s way through him. Your hands now gently drifting his arms and the look in your eyes stricken by the man you got to call yours, Timmy just pulled you a little closer so you’d been hovering his chest. And he’d been able to lower his voice to whisper in your ear,

"This skirt… how could I focus on work tonight, baby ?" He was trying to keep a normal embrace of you, but he’d had that sly look of course. His fingers brushing against your thigh again and he was massaging the right of your hip with tenderness — just enough to make you shiver and heave a small little gasp. Pulling back to look up at him with doting eyes and a small sideways smile of mischief on your lips.

“I just wanted to give you a little surprise,” Your tone sweet, but laced with a hidden, lustrous, message behind it you knew your boyfriend could only take in doses. He scoffed with a chuckle and looked over to a corner of the room, noticing the time had been slipping as you’d already stolen his attention from his shoot. Quite the distracting treat.

“Uh huh.. we’ll talk about it later..” he started and he leaned back in to leave another slow, tasteful and greedy kiss on your lips. It had you closing your eyes and lingering for more. “Go get some rest, chéri, I love you.” Timmy slowly inched away with a soft chuckle as your intertwined hands stay locked although drifted between the two of you for a moment. The firm grasp of just not wanting to let your boyfriend out of your reach consuming you while the playful pout-like smile you gave him was what had him probably now staying till around five am.

When your fingers do slip, and your dragging your feet to walk away, instead biting your lip like a love stuck school girl — you watch him part. With the same restraint and grin upon his lips as he mouths a little “go” to your gone essence. And you were holding down your miss, your need, your want for him and to stay in his world the entire ride to your suite. The ravishing room with a view of the city, towering buildings, an outlook from an enormous glass wall. It all made you feel a little less distant knowing you’d finally been in the same city as your man. That’s what you needed. Close enough to your Timothee. At least for you.

With a soft smile, your bags became your last priority when you dropped them to reach what was left on the king sized bed for you. Pink peonies and red roses. Your absolute favorite, left next to a box of laudrée macarons. Elegantly wrapped in ribbon.

Your heart was going mad. And your face flustered as you plopped on the bed to find the pint note left on top of the candy, “Un cadeau pour la femme que j’aime. Tu me manquais trop, bébé.” You read instantly with the sound of Timmy’s voice in mind, you were rubbing your bitten lip to hide your obvious blush from the empty room of course. A girlish titter leaving you as you lay back and stare over the sweet words your boyfriend had written.

It was things like this. Dating an international superstar could be a deal breaker for most, but you weren’t like most. And neither your boyfriend — he made you feel loved.

No matter how far.

So even being as hard to pin down as he was, between filming and touring, meetings and flights. When it came to you. He did whatever he could to make time.

Eventually, you had fallen asleep with a quarter of the box of chocolates gone delightfully, and sunken between the silk sheets as the low sunlight of the day crept in. You slept so heavily you didn’t even wake when Timothee snuck in somewhere between five thirty and six am. Probably only letting himself sleep for a few hours before he was up, dressed and ready — but not to start promotion or press.

“Mon amour..” you heard a tender note into your ear as you’d been half in a dream and also waking up, feeling a gentle kiss being left on your neck, and hands through your hair. “Baby.. -wake up.” You sigh a tired-some little hum before shifting from your side to your back. A sleepy grin takes upon your lips when you feel another kiss embrace your jaw. Soon opening your eyes to not just Timmy, but the keys to his BMW dangling from his fingers.

“Brian won’t be on my neck for a few hours.. wanna take her out to go shopping ?”

Something along the lines of a squeal and a yawn was your answer as you jump up from your comfort almost immediately. Not taking your time at all before you’d been out the door, Timothee hardly got any real free time away from his work and it wasn’t even a question that you’d take it for granted. A quick fur coat, your heels, and a mini skirt would do. It was a shock to you both how fast you were out that door, hand in hand of course, for the first time ever.

While your plans were to shop. Something the two of you shared an overwhelming desire and bond for, it couldn’t have been less about clothes and more about when you could get them off. Timothee eyeing through some Chanel sunglasses, and you on him, caressing your finger tips over the loops of his belt like the clock was ticking before he’d get a text or call from his manager.

It was excruciating but he showed less resistant than you expected. Leaning over tiers of shoes to kiss you, rest his hand on the small of your back, even grip your side time to time. Pulling you in close so he could whisper a “I see paps starting to line up outside.. let’s give them a show, yeah ?”

And that was like ecstasy for you. One thing you both were good at, was not minding a little attention from the cameras. So when you and your boyfriend had been with your purses, shoes, pretty patted wallets and all, you two went into pda overdrive.

It was between you and the check out counter who’d get to Timmy first. And had simply won.

Your man was reaching into his back pocket to pay. But you didn’t make it that easy as you’d been standing on your tip toes, leaving kisses, soft pecks and smooches all over his face. His lips and his collar. “Baby..” Timothee chuckled as you’d cupped his jaw. He’d lifted his chin playfully higher so you’d struggle to reach and he could attend to getting his credit card out. But that was the last thing on your mind when you couldn’t even get yourself off his sent now. So you only followed, reaching for his lips anyway,

“What ?” Your giggle is soft with your reply, hands lowering to his neck with a small sound of pleasure leaving you when your boyfriend couldn’t help but lean into your kiss unapologetically. Even as he had passed off his card to the the cashier behind you, whom was truly trying to look away from your affection on display.

But completely distracted and without a care of who’d been in there, even possibly a fan being at a lost for words of the actors drift right now — Timmy was too lost in you.

“You’re something else, you know that ?” the corner of his lips curled to a grin when his hands rested on your waist, you pulled back to look at him. Eyes staying on his sweet lips that were yours to tease only with a devious smile.

“You can’t tell me to put on a show and expect it not to be good…” you hum and your boyfriend was in a painful field not to let his fixation on you over take him. Making himself as collected as possible, take you by the hand, and your bags of course— out of there quickly. You titter as you trail behind him in that moment which was caught in hundreds of snaps from the paparazzi outside. It would be published everywhere in approximately twenty minutes.

"Did you have fun spending all my money, baby?"

Your smile achingly sweet. "Well.. you love spoiling me."

To which he chuckles and mutters, “how couldn’t I ?”

When you two got back to your hotel, standing in the elevator with the somberly slow pace it’s going, it’s light music being a bore when you’d rather hear your name being purred from Timmy’s lips, you needed to get him up to that suite immediately.

And to only make it tougher — Timothee was leaning against the elevator wall, eyes on you with that little grin. The one that made your body ache. The corner of your lips tugging on a smile and you’re trying not to look at him. You shift your weight on your heels. Gripping the ribbon handle of the bag holding the freshly bought designer accessories.

“Stop staring at me and pull up your pants.” You direct your need to be pushed against this elevator wall to teasing your man as your eyes flicker to his jeans that were sagging off of his ass.

He just smirked, and annoyingly tugged them down a little farther so you could see the hem of his Calvin Klines. “Ma chérie, you love it. C‘mon.” He beckoned and you breathed out some pent up air. Biting your lip.

“I do… I love that shit,” was mumbled from you, and your man heard with a cocky chuckle as he ran his tongue over his teeth and sure enough, he was backing you against the elevator wall.

A proud sense of glee was washing over as you’d claim to be a master at manifestation. How quickly Timmy’s hands find your hips, leaning down to put his mouth on to yours in a crash, like he’d been starving for this — because he has.

“You really did come all this way just to tease me.” your boyfriend’s voice sets lower, teasing, raw. You’re barely getting the chance to respond because he’s excellently taking away your ability too. You softly groan into the way his lips move on yours like a dream. One hand gripping your hip, the other tilting your chin up as he kisses you —deep, slow, like he’s savoring the taste. Your fingers tangle in his short curls, pulling just enough to make him groan.

"I missed you," you breathe between kisses that are growing sloppier, needier. More urgent as the floors escalate. And your risk driven man smiles against your mouth. "Yeah?" He feels out the metal handle bar against your back, hands trail lower, gripping your thighs, as if he’s about to lift you against the wall, you giggle into the urgent kisses.

Elevator sex ? Fuck yes.

Was your fantastical thought before you heard a ding.

The doors slide open and a stranger steps in. The core shatter of feeling Timothee pull back from you on instant washes over and completely fucks up your vibe.

His jaw clenched, and a wave of frustration hit as your face was burning as you adjusted your skirt.

Your terrified they could hear the way your heart was nearly pounding out of your chest. And Timothee gives them a polite nod, solidifying his charm always. He stuffed into his pockets like you weren’t caught in an unseeable act at all.

The seconds stretch painfully.

Could the door just fucking open ?

You tap your foot. He sucks in his breath.

And when you shift, still feeling the faint touch of Timothee’s hands on you, you peak up at your boyfriend, he’s smirking.

Finally another floor hits.

They step out and the second the doors close, your boyfriend has you against the wall. “I wasn’t done.” His tone deeper, haughty, as he now grabs your wrist. They’re above your head in no time and you gasp,

“Timmy-”

“Shh.”

He’s looking up at the numbers on the top of the confined space going once again painfully slow, the camera beside it — then he’s looking back down at you. Fuck it. He’s pressing his body against yours slow. Intertwining his fingers within yours at a toe curling pace. He’s trailing torturous, sweet kisses down your collarbone. Breathing on to your skin and suctioning his lips on a final place. You whimper something hard to tell. You let your eyes close and feel it. Feel his large hands, exploring and groping your body, your thighs, your ass. Moving you against that wall like a trophy. His lips move to over your chest where your cleavage is just perfectly on display. Licking over the top your breast, taking his time. Running you through.

Your watching. Watching carefully every ounce of longing over the last couple of weeks he’s putting into tasting you. Feeling his want and need as he just keeps getting lower. Pressing a kiss to your abdomen till he’s on his knees. Hiking your mini skirt up a little just for him to see. Carving your leg over his shoulder and kissing on your inner thighs with a soft hum,

“Timothee..” you pant as you view with hands going to his hair, running through his scalp and your skirt up just enough to see green orbs staring up at you as his lips grace your skin. With hunger, and a small grin on display. His lips kiss, peck and smooch on your thighs till he’s breathing out near the thin layer of fabric over your cunt. He pressed a careful kiss there,

He’s really going to tear into you in this fucking elevator.

But that came crashing down when the elevator dings again. And before you both can even think about getting your shit together, in walks Brian. Timothee’s manager. Someone who’s probably seen it all with him probably wasn’t prepared for was something like this.

He makes his presence known, “Seriously ?”

You were breathless as you gasps before covering your mouth. You hit Timothee in the shoulder who was gripping you and had no intention of stopping. Your face turned into the sun. You tried to fix your skirt that was slightly crooked, straightening up like you weren’t pinned against the wall about to get eaten out.

Brian was staring deadpan at Timothee who was reluctantly rising from his knees with more of a sense of frustration that he’d been interrupted from his girl over anything else. Brian pinched the bridge of his nose. Timothee had a daring look on his face, like he didn’t care. “What ? She just got here.” He chuckled, unbothered. Like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Right,” his manager sighs, running a hand down his face. "And in five hours, you have a live audience watching you host SNL.“

Your heart has calmed down for once and you noticed your man most likely now laughing at your shaken appearance now, yet he’s still got his hands looped around your waist.

Brian just shakes head. "I don’t care what you do. Just... at least make it to rehearsal on time." Then he finally steps out of the elevator when the floor hits.

The second the doors shut again —

"How many more time you think we’ll get caught ?" Timmy is tugging you back in already, and you’re pushing him away with a bashful snicker.

“You’re crazy.”

☆

Due to your own gentle encouragement, and firmness to keep your clothes on — Timothee did end up making it to rehearsals on time. With as much energy it took to restrain yourself from making anymore risqué moves with your boyfriend, keeping your hands to yourself until after the show was necessity for such a huge night.

In all his greatest, you had no doubt he would blow the world away once again with his presence, his performance, his aura. It’s a feeling — the one where he doesn’t have to try to be amazing at everything he does.

So when your in a crowd of cheers, watching your man from side stage, overseeing him kill his opponents this awards season, the hug you had when meeting him back stage, was as authentic as could be. You threw your entire body into him the moment your bodyguards brought you back.

“You killed it, baby! You were amazing!” Your feet were off the floor again as he held you in his arms, his laughter closest to your ear, and the cast and crew around all came in hot with the excitement of the environment. You think back when you were out there, cheering for him. And his eyes matched yours for a moment, sparkle and all through the lights. A beam of ‘all for you’ like a subliminal message that only you caught.

He was setting you down with a brief kiss and you’d been smiling up at him after hanging on to it for a moment more.

“Are you ready to catch dinner with everyone? Change into that pretty dress we got earlier?” Timmy kissed your cheek with a grin, knowing you’d been thinking about that dress all day. Almost as much as him really.

“Wouldn’t you like a treat..”

“C’mon, don’t tease me. Where’s my reward for tonight ?”

Your eyes trail his figure with a little smirk, “Later.” You used his own game on him, and Timmy was putting his front back on not to draw attention to the way he’d ran a hand over his neck in primal repression, just before accepting your claim. He draped an arm over your shoulder, you blush.

Timothee got his team to take care of you as quick as possible. Not caring much for himself to do another outfit change when the ones he’s been in for back to back red carpet events were taking over every news outlet as we speak. His Yankees bomber jacket was his choice for the night. But you. You’d been dripping in drapes, rhinestones, and dollars by the time you’d been out of your suite again.

One thing about Timothee was that he was going to have you looking the prettiest, decked out for whatever event it was, on his arm. The Louboutins he gifted you the other night, along with simplistic jewelry that was not only blitzing with bling but had a message —

A chain around your neck with his initial.

So when he caught you in the suv to take you both to dinner, it was his unhinged jaw that did it for you.

“Holy fuck,” he didn’t even try to stutter when you sat extra close to him in that car. He kissed your shoulder. Diving in your florally vanilla sent.

Your smile proud, “this is all you, y’know.” You gesture to your dress, your diamonds, your Prada lipstick — but actually meaning all the heart you would put into being their for your man a million times again for what it’s worth. He was giving you a full dreamy grin as he looked over how chalant you’d been alongside his casualness. Reaching over to shut the door behind you, but getting extra close. So close his heat was emerged with yours, and his lips lingered your gloss for just a second.

And thank god the ride was short.

When you two got to the after party, it had been all flashes from the cameras the moment you stepped foot out of the car. So much so it was hard to see, hard to take shape of anything around you, but Timmy was the perfect gentleman — your hand locked in his as he lead you to your destination so you wouldn’t go blind by the lights. All those cameras, on him all the time. He was a pro at navigating it. So soon, the room was buzzing with nearly everyone currently relevant in Hollywood. Timothee effortlessly moving through the crowd, not giving quotes to reporters on purpose yet flashing that all knowing look.

All that as you we’re seated with him at a dimly lit table in the corner. Just how you liked, even with the chaos of all the stars around. His mind is completely on you.

Instead of sitting across, he’d moved his chair to sit right beside you. Taking your hand in his again and pressing it to his lips. After only an hour, when he’s sipping on a beverage and taking glimpses of you in, the way your dress sits and your collar bones look eloquently perfect. Your body was all he knew. They way you’d been playing with the ‘T’ chain around your neck, shining there with honor. All while you’re taking about him.

It makes him want to get you somewhere private and fast because you were unbearable (he’s terribly flattered).

“Oh my god,” you titter as you lift your phone that’s blowing up from messages from all your friends. Banging on about how iconic Timmy was tonight. “Everyone’s saying that Oscar is yours. And they’re totally right.”

He let’s out a humble chuckle and reaches out for his straw to stir around his drink, mumbling a soft “no, no.” He shakes his head, neat yet disheveled curls falling with.

“What do you mean no ? Yes !” You laugh more cordially so no cameras catch a bad shot of you looking insane.

Timothee gives you a fond smile, he watches your reaction to all his accomplishments and aways notices you might be a tad bit more excited — adorable and endearing, than he could ever imagine for himself. And you noticed that underneath his cool, the nervy jitter of his fingers would start up, so you set your phone down, you take his hand in yours, holding it under your chin with a sweet little smile.

“It’s already yours baby, you’re a prize.”

“You’re a prize,” he replied, green eyes never moving away from your shine.

You can’t help but blush, you were both so locked on one another. So into each other. Timmy let his thumb brush against your cheek, leaning in close and you felt a camera flash somewhere ahead of you — but it didn’t matter. You’re zoned in on the man beyond you.

“Can we get out of here ?” You suggested quite, but voice filled with a dazed kind of essence because your eyes flicker over his fit again. Saying so much without saying anything. He gets the hint and tenses up again.

“Are you suggesting we get away, mon belle?”

“Mhm” you nod as his thumb covers your bottom lip, almost slipping through before he catches himself in the act of being too taken by you. Your looking at him, pure yet seductive, and the corner of his lips curl upwards as he takes your breath away again in a gentle kiss. Before you knew it, Timmy was standing to his feet and taking both of your hands with him. He alerted Brian, his bodyguard and said his goodbyes to his peers before resting a hand on the deep of your back to meet your driver somewhere outside of the venue.

Of course, a hurd of fans, paparazzi and journalists all caught the two of you leaving that after party early and the sounds of screams mixed with paps trying to get to where your car was could be heard from the airport. Cameras were snapping photos of you, your glow, in the hard earned dazzle your boyfriend had been responsible for. And you had a polished expression. Waving to your audience, you didn’t mind at all having this dress in the press.

“Over here!” “Beautiful!” “Is that necklace in honor of your boyfriend?”

You were biting your lip and being an absolute doll for the paparazzi, giving a prideful beam over your shoulder at flashes — that being before Timothee took you by the hip. And pulled you into hiding with him in the car, you only giggled playfully when you’d been grabbed by him suddenly. He pretended to be annoyed by the paps asking him if he’d just talk about you. Even once, but, he held a small grin on his lips by the time you two were secured in the backseat of your ride. Because in the morning, you’d look stunning as ever. Posing for the cameras, hand in hand with him and it would be all over every social media platform in existence.

Everyone would go insane. His fans. The world. Obsessing over how you’d headed out early. Obsessed with how obsessed you were with one another.

Still on the high of his SNL performance, and the stride of his fame, with fans that were in tears as soon as he showed his face, paparazzi and people begging just to touch him. The chase and drive of award season and all, the praise, the status; you couldn’t have made the climax of his stardom feel like anything other than pure paradise. Solidifying his high paced lifestyle is all worth it when It’s only been a couple minutes since the driver pulled off, and you two had shut the window peek on sight.

the hum of the car engine was tough along the faint sound of people still screaming Timothée’s name in the distance while your all over him. Your glazed nails running down his chest, slow like you want to drive him insane. Your eyes were now dark, practically devouring him immediately. Your lips parted and meshing with his like you’d been starving. Timothee pulled you into his lap without anymore hesitation and you’d let out a little hum when the trace of his hands over your hips came in. Gripping on you like you’d get taken away if he didn’t grasp on long enough. Your hands go to his hair — Kissing deep, slow yet at a rushed pace, recklessly in that back seat.

Timmy’s Cartier ring, cold and sliding up your thigh, inching all over the way you sat on his lap and making sure to pull you in, keep you boarderline close. “Mmm.. mhm- -” was the only thing coming from you. Topping up so your knees were on the leather seats, on either side of his hips. And you deepen your smooches a little more and a soft groan comes from Timmy’s end. Your body drives him crazy. The way you arch your back ever so slightly. The way the fabric of your dress hugs your curves, clinging in all the right places.

And you’re flaunting it, teasing, and pushing on him. So he grips your ass with a little shake and you squeal with excitement. “I wish you could have seen yourself up there tonight. You looked- - fucking incredible.” You murmur against his skin, punctuating it with an open mouthed kiss.

Timothee smirks, “Yeah ? You liked that, huh ?”

“Yeah.. you’re so famous baby, and you work so hard. Everyone loves you.” You huff out a little sound, pressing your lips to the sharp line of his jaw, dragging your mouth against the slight scruff of his mustache, down to the heat of his neck. Your hands grazed there along with your kisses. “Never shave this okay ? It’s so hot.”

Timmy gives you that damn cocky grin, closing his eyes as he tilts back, giving you space to ruin him. “Mm, you're really gassin' me up right now.” His voice smug and heavy, hands ghosting over your inner thighs, daring to squeeze your ass some more which makes the dampness between your thighs rush in. You felt the stretch of his Adam’s apple along with a soft sigh that comes from his lips when you lick over his skin. His fingers tighten around your waist and he starts rocking you down against him and your eyes go intense and lost in his. His breath catches when your fingers only trace lower, teasing over his waistband.

You sincerely couldn’t sit with the temptation for another minute. So you lean up, find your balance within the bumpy ride pushing you only closer into your man, and speed to get his belt undone.

Just what he needs after all of it. The weeks that went by, the tiresome press and events. Alone with the love of his life, feeling him this way and getting him like this. That mix of devotion and sensuality. The voice of his girl right now, telling him everything he needs to hear “you’re taking home that Oscar, baby” — that’s exactly what he craves. You make him feral.

So as your eyes grow with hunger, your hands working quick to get his fly open and to embrace his boxers, sitting pretty with a nice tent. You’re watching the way he breathes when your fingers trace over his cock, teasing, hiking your dress up and getting on your knees in front of him.

There was only one way to finish what he started earlier.

Timothee stretched as much as he could in the fine spaced car as your nails trail the tops of his thighs and he’s man spreading for you. So heavenly, his jaw flexes,his eyes darkening in the low glow of the passing city lights.

He’s viewing you with so much hunger, lips parted, chest rising and falling as you sit up to tug his jeans farther away from his hips. “You gonna be good f’me ?” Timmy’s voice softened but assertive as he was already holding your chin in his grasps. Hooded eyes only on the beauty that you were as you’d been starring up at him, with a lust filled little smile and nod. Too sweet, too much for him to handle as your hands were doing a job of their own — reaching to stroke him once. Slow. Painfully slow. And as he curses, you try not to giggle but your lips grave the tip of his cock. Not looking away from his expression for a second as you let your tongue dart out to taste, lick a stripe on him dutifully.

Your boyfriends brows knit upwards and his tongue darts out to wet his lip as he watched you repeat that a couple more times. Then your mouth is on him completely,

“Oh.. shit,” one of his hands is reaching out to the arm rest across the seating, and the other going to search through your hair.

A low whimper could be heard from you as you didn’t hesitate to have your mouth filled with his dick the moment you’d fit him in. Sucking nice, then more brazen. Hallowing your cheeks and making him groan for it. You could hear his grunts, feel his veins pulse as you pick up the speed. And your sitting in your own pool uncomfortably when you let your hand glide and flow up his abdomen another time to grip his studded chain. Playing and toying with it as he moaned through the wet noises you made on him. You’re moving your mouth up and down on him in sequence with moans drawn out sharply as Timmy grips the back of your neck to move you how he wants.

Your hand was pumping him at the same time as he was dropping his head against the seat with a deep groan and you wish you could see it. Like all the tension, and the noise around Oscar’s buzz being washed away from him. He’s letting you take him away. “Fuck, you make me feel so good, pretty girl.” Although you were flattered, you couldn’t be more focused on trying to get him off. His skin just feeling right against your tongue and you only stop for air just to smile and calmly run your thumb over his tip with a sly grin. It makes him have to restrain from kicking the drivers seat ahead.

“Easy..” you murmur with a soft giggle as you watch your man fight it from above, sucking in his bottom lip and gripping his jeans as your hand jerks him clean. He was hissing a string of curses before you go back to licking and kissing on his shaft, moaning like you just needed to be fucked by the movie star right here. Right now.

And in all perfect timing, he pulls you off of him even as his cock twitched hungrily.

“Oh my god,” he huffs, chest rising and falling, “slide your panties down for me..”

Not only does your stomach drop, and heat flashes through your body like an electric current. You stop to take in Timmy’s disheveled state with utter contempt but urgency. Your image of a quicky in this car could go so many ways.

He’s amused at your hesitation. Even from the race of all day — trying to pin him down for this to be it. The fire throughout you was at an all time high. Timothee was getting you off the car floor and making sure you were properly on his lap again. “Now, chérie.” his voice a low, a commanding whisper, reminding you exactly the kind of night you were about to have.

So when you complied, taking part of the very thin panties you’d been wearing under your dress, and pulling them over your heat, it was just for him, as he leaned back and watched you move. Licking over his lip for a brief moment till you were bare.

That tiny obedient action drives him absolutely wild.

“Good girl, You’re always good for me.. yeah?” your boyfriend grins, hand going to your hips again and your now soaked cunt lingers right over his dick. Wanting, starving for you. And you feel it everywhere. Without him even being in, your legs go weak, your breath hitches, and his fingers are already toying with your folds as your nails prime his shoulder and you slip him a soft kiss that has you both moaning. Then again, yet this time his lips only skim the corner of your mouth, but he doesn’t kiss you.

He loves watching you fall apart first. Loves the anticipation. Loves knowing that you’d let him stretch you crazy right now.

You have a frustrated groan as your head releases. He huffs out a chuckle. Holding back from rewarding you for just another second, but it all came with the consequence of the car jerking to a stop. Easily throwing the two of you into each other.

Timothée blinks, his head dropping back against the seat, huffing dramatically. “Are you serious right now ?”

The driver tones in over the speaker. “We’ve arrived, Mr. Chalamet.”

Your boyfriend was breathless, at a loss for words and running his hands down his face. All you could do was shake your head with a light hearted chuckle and start fixing your dress.

“Hurry before you get recognized, Timmy.” Your tone sweet enough just to get him hard again, but vexing enough to piss him off farther.

He glares at you. Eyes still blown with need. But he kisses your neck, tender and poised anyways as he quickly buttons his jeans. “You’re gonna pay for this though.”

You both practically stumble out of the suv, Timothée tugs his hoodie up to avoid cameras, but your hands never leave each other.

And the second your through the lobby, past security, past the elevator doors, there’s no stopping again.

[milkzoro]

need to redecorate

summary: y/n and trafalgar law are in a new relationship, but haven’t met irl yet.

cw: MDNI, smut, law being a creep, spit, slight dom!law, p in v fucking, edging

☆彡

~

he wonders how he was able to bag a girl like you. your supple skin, thick ass and thighs. he was obsessed with the way that you’re always wearing mini skirts that are just a tad too small. he love the pudge of your stomach that puffs so softly out of the hem line.

he’s here again, back at this overpriced indie coffee shop. he knows your exact order and the approximate time frame of your arrival. he is waiting for you. not to pick you up or grab a coffee with you. but to get more images for his collection.

she was so perfect ‘n bubbly he thought, needed to capture her in every moment. when you’re grocery shopping, picking up meds, soaking up some sun while you’re in your backyard. he even has some tasteful shots of you undressing.

he finally notices you leaving the coffee shop with your cup in hand and hips swaying softly.

he has a drone. he would never bring his camera out like this, not where people could see him being a freak. his best shots always came from his camera though. the harder to get the sweeter the treat he thought. but with you just running errands, this would have to do. he’s lucky to have found one small enough to just slip past your mind and not notice it.

he glides the flying camera in your direction, lining up the angles perfectly. “my angel, such ‘n airhead. how have you not found me out yet.” he sighs and takes multiple shots of your body. he absolutely cannot not wait for these photos to develop, you looked delicious.

~

he is now hanging up his prizes from the day onto his wall. carefully placing each one with a few command strips, he could never damage his works of art with a stupid tack. ugh the thought of that disgusts him. law thinks he is a famous photographer. his works should be hung up in a museum (his bedroom).

he was especially excited for tonight though. such a cute and sweet event. tonight he’d get to watch a movie with you and it was also your one month anniversary. getting to see your face on his monitor would make his day. you always looked so innocently beautiful in the setting of your pretty room. sitting there listening to him speak with your dolly eyes.

it never felt weird being in a relationship with you considering you’ve never met in person. it’s been mentioned, but somehow one of you is always unavailable. one month isn’t even that long, he thought. i’ll be ready soon, i just uhh need to ‘redecorate.’

~

“happy one month anniversary babiee!!!” you sang on the other line. oh how you looked so stunning for him. silk cami resting pretty on your neckline and no bra. you felt so cheeky. seeing the attractive man on the other side sent butterflies to your tummy. his dark features cascading in his dark room. truthfully, kinda eery but ohhh so sexy.

his face warmed up at the sight of you. smiling warmly. his golden eyes picking up beautifully in the screen of your small laptop. “y/a ya~. happy anniversary,,,, ~pookie~.” he giggles at that last part. he’s definitely picking up some your language even if he denies that he isn’t.

after assessing our options. law agreed to your suggestion. we were going to watch {MOVIE}. law had everything all set up and had the movie on pause. “you have your snacks baby?” his voice was getting crunchy in the speakers of your old computer. stupid internet. you hummed and cuddled up with your blankets waiting for him to press play.

~

“babe.”

… he didn’t hear you.

“baby.”

“hmm?” his confused little face popped into frame. “yn ya~ what’s wrong?”

you sighed whilst sitting up, meticulously propping up on your tits so he could see you better. “the movies’ so blurry. can’t i just come over~”

law could hear you loud and clear. ‘come over?’ he thought. fuck what was he going to do. he’d love nothing more than for you to come lay with him and ‘watch’ movies. there’s just a small problem, his shrines. it’s about time you two get together, he just needed to be careful.

quick calculations and possible solutions are racing through his mind. uhhh she lives about twenty ish minutes from my place,,, i think i can do something.

he hesitated before speaking, “uhhm y- yea let me send you my address.” him actually agreeing made you so happy! you finally got to see you cute boyfriend! and on our anniversary too, what a treat! cartoony hearts were practically spinning around your head.

“oh okay!! i’m just gonna grab my things ‘n i’ll come over” you blew law a quick kissy through your camera and shut off your monitor. you were so excited.

“shit- twenty minutes to ‘redecorate’, i can do this.” law is panicking.

~

your bag’s keychains jingled against your body as you made your way up to his door, wrist immediately knocking agains the wood. a few moments pass as you anticipate his presence.

when you saw him standing there in front of you you were in awe. his skin glowing under the moonlight, he looked so perfect. was he sweating?

“y/a ya~” his voice is dripping with honey. it made you feel numb. he leaned down to kiss your lips. slender fingers coming to hold you cheek. your lips met his, his taste making you feel intoxicated.

“happy anniversary pretty~ let’s get inside” he reaches for you hand and you can’t help but notice how clammy they are. awe was he nervous? teehehe such a cutie.

~

movie long forgotten, law had you pinned beneath him. eyes assaulting every inch in your body. his thin fingers moving themselves to push on the plush of your inner thighs. “you’re so soft baby~” his fingers were toying with the seams of your panties. “‘nd soo wet already huh?” his eyes flicker to your own.

“shhhiiit ahh~ mhm yes laww” you whine out, dying for a taste. seeing pictures is nowhere near comparable to the real thing. you can already see his dick in his jeans and can’t help but arch your back at your imagination.

“want to feel me baby? let me take good care of you.” he sees your eager nodding and slips you out of your your soaking panties. his fingers are fumbling as he is trying to lower his boxers and unzip his jeans. “god yes law pleaSE.” two of his fingers slip past your fold with ease. noticing your arousal he swirls his digits around, collecting your juices. fuck your so slick, he wraps his fist around his thick cock to spread your liquid. he hisses at the relief.

“gonna fuck you good doll, just say my name for me, okay?” he whines as he gets to push just a little bit past his tip “shhhiiiitttt.”

“law please baby .. haahh~ more hmm.”

you can’t help but moan at his painfully slow movements. you can see it in his face too, the way his eyes are squeezed shut, it’s easy to tell that he wants to move too, but fucking you slowww is driving the both of you insane. his rhythm is picking up causing you to drool and mutter nonsense.

he puts a finger on your mouth pressing down firm against the pad of your tounge then moves to get in between your teeth. he’s adding one more digit to your mouth before using them to try and spread your mouth.

“open your mouth yn ya~” his eyes are lust filled as you see him start to collect spit in his own. he is fucking you faster now and with each thrust and shake, you’re eager to open your mouth for him. wanting to accept any liquid he has to offer.

“such a filthy girl y/a.” he missed, just a little. his fingers come up to rub some of the saliva away. you swallowed the remaining liquid and beg for him to go deeper. “fuck y/n you want it that bad huh, haaah~ tell me,, who’s pussy ‘s this?” his hand come to lay on your neck, squeezing tightly on both sides of your windpipe. he is struggling to hear you and pulls his dick out. “speak baby~”

feeling his length suddenly go missing from your cunt has you in tears. you were so close and full, now nothing. “law fuckk baby i was gonna cu-” he cuts you off and squeezes on your neck harder. “i said whos fuckin pussy ‘s this?”

white spots are forming in the corners of your vision, too close to your orgasm to black out now so you fight to speak back to him. “ahh, it’s ‘s yours law!! fuck- only yourss~” his grip on you looses ever so slightly but still keeps his hand there.

his lips curl into a smirk as he lines you up again. his heat filling you just right, and hearing his breathy whimpers were just enough to get you there. “such a good girl for me fuckk taking me so well baby i feel you suckin me in haahh-”

his dick so perfect for your hole, leaking soo much for him. cleanching down hard, you are ready for release. “law~ fuck s-so close, please uSE ME!” he lifts your knees to hit your most sensitive spot harder. his hips working against your aching body recklessly. you could tell he was close.

“shiit just just like tha baby,, right- ahh right fuckING THERE AHHH KEEP- keep goiNG♡” you walls are contracting hard on his cock almost milking him. your legs are shaking violently as you feel your orgasm start to take control of your whole body. hearing his moans has you squirting around him.

“fuck baby where do you want me to cum?”

comeing down from your high you manage to respond to him. “come on my tits.” you pull your shirt up slightly so he could decorate your pretty breasts with his semen.

he thinks your such a dirty girl and he’s obsessed with it. he pulled his thick, dripping cock from your hole and tightly squeezed around his creamy base. fuck he looked soo good like this, you could practically see his eyes rolling back as he fucking his fist above you. glimmers of sweat beaded on his forehead has him looking so angelic, it’s making your tummy do flips again. a gasp leaves his lips as he shoots his hot load across your breasts and swollen nipples. his breaths sending shockwaves to your aching cunt. he falls down close to you and kisses your forehead.

“happy one month y/n ya~”

~

after suddenly waking up, you notice a rough edge scratching your arm. reaching in between his mattress and the box spring, you pull on the foreign object and discover it’s a loose photo. oh it’s you. you giggle. you find him so endearing and obsessive…

unfortunately for him it was a blurry one, but you had an idea. while law was asleep, fucked out, you decided to gift him something better. his polaroid was placed on his desk so you had a mini photo shoot. you took only a few, one of your tits, still somewhat crusted with his cum. and a couple of your thighs and ass. and the final touch being a lipstick kiss stain in the corner of each one. you placed the camera back in its spot and tucked away your custom pieces of art with his other photographs. he will find them eventually. teheheh you’re welcome my love xx

*& we sleep again zzz*

an: y/n is a freak

[galaxythreads]

May I ask about science says no, but my heart says otherwise and slave loki fic ?

science says no, but my heart says otherwise:

idk if this fic is ever going to be finished, which makes me sad. I worked really hard on it. Idk, i need to talk to my friend. It's an alt pov fic for a fic she was writing about tony haunting peter post spider-man 3. She had tony's pov, I was doing peter's because i was obsessed with it, but i'd feel weird posting this without her permission, and we don't talk that much anymore since she started uni.

snippet:

He feels so, so young. 

“Karen,” Peter whispers, his voice sounding clogged. He waits, feeling despair beginning to claw up through his body for every microsecond passes where there’s nothing then--

“Yes?” Karen says. 

Peter feels his body get seized by a sudden, intense, paralysis, so cold and hot at once that he thinks he might pass out. She still exists. She’s real. Peter--

Oh god.

Here it goes. 

“Do you--do you--” he can’t get the question out. He doesn’t want to know the answer. He ducks his head, his hands shaking from where they’re buried against his chest before he says softly, “do you still remember me?” 

And.

Please.

Please, God, I’d given anything--

“Yes, Peter,” Karen says, and if Peter didn’t know better, she sounds faintly confused as if the unspoken why wouldn’t I is hanging in the air, “I remember you.” 

And Peter can almost see her starting to rile through the internet, trying to figure out why he would even bother with the question and Peter wants to scream at her no. Just in case. Just in case. His phone remembered for a second and then-- 

Peter falls apart. He collapses against the side of the bed onto his knees, sobbing harshly, any mental fortitude he was pretending to possess breaking. Sliding away like he was never trying in the first place. 

“Th-thank you,” Peter stutters out to Karen, as if she made an executive decision to say I’m good, no thanks to Dr. Strange’s spell. 

Then he freezes. 

That--that thing spoke again. The next sob catches in his throat, not out of curiosity but terror. Something is watching him. Peter lifts his head up, holding impossibly still. Waiting for something to stab him, or push him in front of a train, something. The room is empty. Just like it was before. He squeezes his eyes shut. Why does he--

He really is, honest to God, losing his mind. 

Or--

Or. 

“Karen?” his voice is strangled. 

“Yes, Peter?” 

He can’t. He can’t begin to explain how much it makes him want to cry that she’s calling him by his name. She knows who he is. She remembers their history. It didn’t go away. She’s here. She cares. She knows his name.

But then he remembers the voice. And the presence. 

“Is--is there anyone in the room with me?” he whispers.

Karen is quiet for a long moment, scanning, checking, and Peter can feel terror creeping up his face. Then--“All illusions are down, and will remain that way, if that is what you’re asking, Peter.”

Peter’s body relaxes, a little, at that, as if he’s been waiting for those words for weeks. He has, he thinks. He really, really has. He closes his eyes, squeezing them tightly until it makes his head ache. 

There’s a murmur in the air, like a sound being caught in suspension, and Peter shakes his head, trying to force it out. There’s nothing there. There’s nothing there. Beck isn’t playing with him. No one is. Peter is alone. 

“Thanks, Karen,” Peter whispers softly. 

“Anytime, Peter,” Karen says quietly. Her voice is almost sad.

slave loki fic:

it's this au where jane marries thor like 3-4 years after they meet, and when she gets taken to asgard for the wedding, she runs into loki, who was made a slave after the avengers, and she slowly forms a bond with him

snippet

“Please don’t do this.” The servant sounds close to begging and Jane hesitates for the briefest moment, lifting her gaze up to his face again, hands still against the edges of her shawl. The Asgardian’s hands are frozen on top of the glass, green eyes settled on her face without breaking contact. Without breathing.

He looks terrified.

Something uncomfortable churns in her gut at this. He shouldn’t be frightened of her. She’s just...Jane. She won’t do anything to him. She’s not even angry anymore. It’s just a skirt, and it’s not as though her appearance is flawless. She hasn’t brushed her hair in at least three days now and her make-up is the remnants of yesterdays and a hastily put-on mascara this morning.  

 “Hey,” Jane tries, dropping her tone to be something more gentle. It reminds her oddly of trying to coax a stray cat out of hiding. “It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong, I bumped into you.”

The green eyes flick back to the stone floor. They’ve spent a majority of this conversation pinned there, and the servant seems to have almost forgotten to continue the trend until now. Jane presses her lips together, at a loss, but pushes forward. Removing the shawl and shaking her head to get it loose from the pins sticking her messy bun together, she rests it on the ground on top of the broken glass and not-cheese.

The servant’s fists visibly clench, a tightness spreading between his shoulders. Closing his eyes for the briefest moment, he exhales slowly. 

Jane frowns, but says nothing, waiting for the liquid to seep into the clothing all together. Bits of glass are poking up through the fabric and digging at her fingers, but keeping her grip lax against the shawl seems to help the worst of the pain. 

Mopping up the not-cheese, Jane glances at the wary servant and inwardly wrestles with herself for a moment before asking, “Hey, um, you wouldn’t happen to know a faster direction the Great Hall, would you? I’m not exactly...familiar with Asgard yet.”

Excuses.

She has been living here for close to three years. She knows how to get there. What she needs is a native’s shortcut. Thor has tried to show her a few, but once he stepped inside the inner tunnels of the palace, she’d been lost. There’s so many complex layers to the building that she can’t imagine anyone actually using it, let alone memorizing anything.

The servant’s brow furrows for the briefest moment with confusion before it smooths over and his lips part, a ragged breath slipping through them. “You are Thor’s wife.” The statement is flat. There is no indication on how the man feels about this, only that recognition has sparked.

“Yeah. Jane,” she supplies, staring at him carefully. How can they have not been close enough that he didn’t recognize her on the spot and she can’t shake off familiarity? She knows she’s seen him somewhere. 

A piece of glass digs into her finger and she winces, drawing it back sharply and instinctively stuffing it into her mouth. It tastes of blood and has a faint yeast-like aftertaste, which she attributes to the not-cheese. 

“My lady, please, I can handle this.” The servant says, eyes wide around the edges. “You needn’t harm yourself with my mistake.” He reaches for the cloth, but she smacks his hand away, shaking her head. Popping her bleeding finger out, she wipes the cut against her already ruined skirts. The wound hurts like a papercut, sharp and piercing. 

Distantly, she thinks she hears someone walking down the hall. “No. I broke the bowl, remember? I can clean up my mess.” 

“My lady--”

“What is going on here!?” a crisp voice demands and Jane jumps with surprise. The servant seems to topple, head dipping down completely and he curls into himself as much as possible, words dying on his tongue. He looks prepared to receive a blow or at least sharp rebuke, and the sight strikes her as odd. She shakes it off and looks up at the source of the voice.

She hadn’t even heard them round the corner, to focused on getting the servant to stop trying to stop her from helping him. The man is tall, but round, sporting a red-white beard with big bushy eyebrows in need of a trim. His eyes are narrowed angrily and jaw set tightly. He’s dressed in the thick garb needed for the royal feast-gala-whatever-it-is-today, unlike her.

[lemonhemlock]

I think part of the reason lucemond in particular gets a lot of push back (besides the obvious ick that comes from so many of the lucemonders using the tween actor as a face claim for their erotica only to gaslight anyone who calls them out on this) is that lucemond is a textbook case of the phenomenon of fanon breeding fanon.

I can believe people genuinely like reading and creating lucemond content but what they’re engaging with is literally just fanon.

I’m pretty much convinced that lucemond started out as a self insert ship for girlies who needed an excuse for Aemond to switch to team black but didn’t want to be seen doing the ‘AemondxTeam Black OC’ and accused of making Mary Sues

However lucemond metastasized in hotd fandom circles to include a bunch of headcanons and made up nonsense which has absolutely no grounding in canon. It might as well be an AemondxOC but shippers on the Twitters will argue till their blue that it’s not.

And that is probably what grinds on people — Lucerys is a nothing character in the book, his only role is to serve as a plot device. He is hardly much better in the show with only like 5 minutes of screentime and a page of dialogue. Additionally to a lot of us critics nothing about what we’re shown of lucerys is conducive to shipping with Aemond. I believe you wrote about this before in your anti-lucerys tag, but there is quite literally no reason for Aemond to like him. The only place this ship exists is in their delusions but they’ll nonetheless go on and on about fated fued and how obsessed Aemond is with Lucerys.

On AO3 and Twitter, Lucerys is some perfect Helen of Troy or celebrity it-girl figure. The realm goes to war because of him, and not the literal myriad of other political issues that have broiling for decades.

It’s the way a lot of lucemonders belittle and insult Aemond (particularly show!Aemond who unlike Lucerys actually has a character arc) to hype up Lucerys as this stunningly beautiful universally adored guy (who inexplicably has a vagina 75% of the time). Lucerys is a Mary Sue.

Now if lucemond had stayed in some niche corner of the internet there probably wouldn’t such vitriol but it’s the fact that is got big and overwhelmed the more ‘canon’ ship of Rhaenicent and became the dominant mlm ship for the fandom when by all rights that should have Aegmond or some variation of Viserys/Otto/Daemon for the old man enjoyers. Lucemond has become so big it’s practically unavoidable and the fact that it simply doesn’t make sense raises a number of folks ire.

Antis dislike lucemond and lucemonders because they’re pulling shit out of their ass. They dislike it because it’s more popular than it has any right to be. And they dislike it because it’s more than a little creepy to ship a grown man with an underage boy and insist on decribing him as twink or pretty boy. That’s not a twink it’s a child you creeps.

Now before people come out arguing about breakbones!luke and bottom/omega!aemond lucemond content realise that is a fraction of a percent of what is generally produced, and authors who create that in no way pretend they’re doing anything other than slapping metaphorical barbies together, additionally Aemond isn’t actively maligned in these stories, and older breakbones!luke avoids the obvious issue of this ship being incredibly creepy.

Now I am an advocate for doing as you wish so long as it’s not illegal. Ship and let ship. Don’t like don’t read. But I do sympathize a lot with the anti lucemond crowd and their reasons for disliking the ship but my advice is simply not to engage with them if you can avoid doing so. Firstly it’s just not a good look to get all heated over an intern ship and secondly they’ll probably go away eventually now that there won’t be any fresh content in subsequent seasons of the show. Let them have their delusions while they still can, they’re probably not hurting anyone.

So basically that’s what I think is going on with regard to lucemond and anti-lucemond in case anyone was interested in what exactly this discourse was about.

Cheers

honestly, anon, fair take. as you said, i mainly dislike lucemond bc it doesn't make sense to me why they would have the hots for each other considering their personalities, but especially their past behaviour towards each other. like i just don't buy aemond being in love with the person who maimed him.* the vibes are just not vibing. it wasn't a thing in the past with readers of Fire and Blood and the show doesn't help either bc i just can't ship someone wearing ewan's face with someone wearing elliot's face - the visual discrepancy is way too accentuated

but if lucemonds want to image breakbones luke or whatever, go ahead, it's not taking anything from my pie. i just don't engage with that content. i may rant on my own account from time to time, but that's that. good point re: a lot of pushback lucemond is experiencing is bc fans are baffled this is THEE no1 hotd gay ship (justice for old man yaoi!!!) , but, as you've pointed out, it's just not worth going to war with them over it

the genderbending thing is something that regularly crops up with mlm pairings so it's something to be expected

*i can imagine him being obsessed with the person who maimed him, but lucemonds are so squeamish about producing horror content. the stuff i've seen in that regard mostly involved some version of aemond keeping luke as a literal sex slave (ofc), which was executed too cartoonishly for my tastes

anyway. not my circus, not my monkeys. ✌

[ragequitezekielrants]

Let’s Not Turn Our Appliances into Dating Options

Alright, I’ve seen some weird stuff on the internet, but today we’re going down a rabbit hole I never wanted to crawl into: objectophilia—a.k.a., the strange obsession with being romantically involved with objects. Yeah, you heard me. I’m talking about people falling head over heels in love with their toasters, cars, and, apparently, anything with a shape and a surface. And don’t even get me started on this growing fascination with “sentient objects” in fiction. Why? Why is this a thing?

Let’s get one thing straight: objects aren’t people. They don’t have feelings, thoughts, or personalities. Your vacuum cleaner doesn’t dream of a better life, your favorite mug doesn’t get jealous when you drink from a different one, and—brace yourself—your gaming console isn’t secretly in love with you. It’s plastic, metal, and a bunch of circuits. No matter how much you want to imagine your phone as some adorable, loyal sidekick, at the end of the day, it’s just an inanimate object.

Yet, somehow, we’ve managed to reach a point where people are not only attracted to objects but are creating entire backstories for them as if they’re sentient beings. I mean, there’s a woman who married the Eiffel Tower. Yeah, the giant metal structure in Paris. I guess it’s got good… structure? Where does this end? Are we gonna start romanticizing our refrigerators? “Oh, I love the way it cools my food with such passion. It really understands my hunger on a deep, emotional level.” Please.

And then there’s this whole trend in fiction where objects become sentient, and we’re supposed to just roll with it. You’ve got talking swords, smart fridges with personalities, and don’t even get me started on AI assistants that are written like quirky side characters in a bad sitcom. I get it, it’s fun to imagine a world where your toaster can hold a conversation, but why are we encouraging this nonsense? Are we so desperate for meaningful interactions that we’re turning our household appliances into dating options? What’s next? People proposing to their Roombas because it “always cleans up after them” and “understands them like no one else”?

Look, I get it— I'm lonely as fuck too and human relationships are hard. But maybe, just maybe, the answer isn’t to start imagining that your favorite chair has feelings or that your car is in love with you. It’s one thing to anthropomorphize your belongings as a joke, but it’s another to genuinely start believing that the world of Beauty and the Beast is some kind of ideal future where every candlestick and clock is a potential soulmate.

The worst part is, this bizarre obsession is creeping into games now, too. There are whole game mechanics built around your weapons or equipment “liking” you or “being loyal” based on how you treat them. Like, great, now I not only have to manage my character’s relationships with NPCs, but I also have to worry about whether my sword feels underappreciated because I swapped it out for something better. Are we serious? I’m supposed to feel guilty about trading in a piece of gear that doesn’t actually exist? This is where we’re at now?

I’m all for escapism and imagination, but at some point, we have to draw the line. If we keep romanticizing objects and turning them into sentient beings in our heads, we’re just feeding into this weird fantasy where actual human connections become less important. You can’t date your coffee machine. And you definitely can’t get emotionally attached to a piece of metal that doesn’t have a brain.

So here’s a thought: let’s leave the objects as they are—just objects. Inanimate, unfeeling, and not candidates for romantic relationships. Trust me, your life will be better when your blender is just a blender and not your imaginary significant other.

Until next time, stop falling in love with your furniture.

– Ezekiel

[heartlilith]

Natal Asteroid Reading (example reading)

Natal Chart Asteroid Reading for HeartLilith (example)

Lilith in Capricorn in the 1st House:

Lilith in Capricorn natives have a reputation of being rigid, cold, and more business-minded than emotional. You’re no stranger to hardships, which is why you strive to be independent financially and emotionally. You want to achieve wealth and be successful in your career. With Lilith here, you might do anything to get it. Lilith rules taboo, the dark feminine, and what society deems unacceptable. This could manifest as Capricorn Lilith sleeping with the boss to get a promotion or marrying someone for material gain. If material wealth isn’t achieved, which it most likely won’t be because Capricorn here is never satisfied, bitterness could creep up on these natives and result in mental health issues, depression here is likely. In the first house, the native embodies Lilith, it’s at the forefront. You come off as determined, rigid, and unemotional. People may have strong opinions of you, especially men. You may notice that men try to put you in your place or undermine you since you are a force to be reckoned with. You threaten their masculinity. Or, men could become obsessed with you/want to be you. You could attract intense people in your life that is borderline obsession. Women could also start rumors about you especially in the work place. 

Vesta in Capricorn in the 1st House: 

These natives are very “in control” so to speak. They are determined, ambitious, have self control, and have the ability to work even if their life is in ruins. Actually working might help them in a chaotic life. These natives are very loyal and tend to push their emotions down in order to get on with daily life. They would be great bosses or mentors since they are naturally able to lead and make people feel stable. In the first house, these people always strive to be productive. They love to learn about psychology and figuring out who they are. They are independent and do not like to be controlled or manipulated by other people. They are self sufficient and pave their own path. 

Chiron in Sagittarius in the 11th House:

Chiron in Sagittarius in the 11th house natives have wounds related to education, beliefs, religions, and philosophies. In the 11th house, this could indicate wounds related to beliefs of what friendship is. These natives could have been bullied growing up in school. In college, they could have met a friend that turned out to be an enemy. The 11th house also rules the internet so they could’ve been humiliated online by friends. Sagittarius here shows that their beliefs relating to this house is constantly going through crisis.

Eros in Capricorn in the 1st House: 

Eros in Capricorn makes the native attracted to people who are wealthy, hold some type of authority (like their boss), older people, successful and ambitious people. Eros in retrograde can point to being restricted in sex and intimacy, especially with Capricorn here as well. You may have had sexual experiences in the past that made you feel disrespected which could’ve made you uncomfortable expressing your sexual desires or anything sexual at all. It may make it hard to know what your true sexual fantasies and desires are. In the first house, you hold high sex appeal and many are sexually attracted to you. You may even be seen in a sexual way when it’s inappropriate. Your passions may come and go quickly.

Pallas in Virgo in the 8th House:

Pallas in Virgo natives approach problems with logic. They are very analytical people that come up with decisions quickly and precisely. These people are probably really good at puzzles, engineering, or writing. Pallas in Virgo people should use their analytical and logical nature and combine in with creativity to promote healing and success. In the 8th house, these people who be amazing in the field of psychology. They figure out why people do what they do by paying attention to detail. You can’t fool these people. 

Juno in Aquarius in the 1st House:

Juno in Aquarius shows that your ideal partner is someone unique, they could be foreign to your country or someone you normally wouldn’t go for. These people would be more like a best friend than a lover and would respect the need for space. These people value freedom about all else. Juno in Aquarius means the your partner stimulates you mentally and is always up for a good time. In the 1st house, people see you as marriage material. You may naturally be very traditional in terms of gender roles. If you’re a woman, you may like to cook and clean - you don’t expect society to be this way its just they way you are. If you’re a man, you may believe in paying the bill at the restaurant or working to support the family. 

Ceres in Libra in the 9th house:

Having a Ceres sign ruled by Venus means you’re nurtured by beauty. You like being in beautiful environments and having beautiful things, you really appreciate it. In love, you’re caring and strive for harmony at all times, even to a fault. You’re well mannered and polite and people appreciate this about you. In the 9th house. Vacations, long distance travel, higher education and philosophical matters could make you feel nurtured and happy. These things fill your cup.

North Node in Cancer in the 7th House: 

You’re meant to learn how to nurture others in this life, especially partner in marriage. You’re going to learn to be softer and more receptive emotionally in relationships. In relationships, they may lack when you’re younger and get better and better as you age. You need to learn the concept of equal give and take. Don’t sell yourself short and don’t take advantage of others. 

South Node in Capricorn in the 1st House:

With North Node in the 7th and South Node in the 1st in Capricorn and Cancer, you may want to focus on yourself and break away from others and their expectations of you. This could cause a lot of guilt. People have high expectations of you and you hate those expectations but not meeting them makes you feel guilty and selfish. This tension could’ve made you angry when you were younger and impatient. You want to know everything about yourself and you want to focus on finding something bigger than yourself. There’s a constant pull between being there for yourself and being there for others. 

This reading is 2-3 pages long using size 12 font and is single spaced.

[caffeineandsociety]

One thing that I find simultaneously very baffling and very telling about the current wave of LGBT+ conservatism and sex-negativity is...

Where did this obsession with incest come from?

Pedophilia, I get where that came from - our society is creepily obsessed with youth, and while "pedophilia" is...okay look that's a whole can of worms, clinically it refers to attraction to actual living prepubescent children specifically because they are children, colloquially it implies ACTION on that/an actual literal child molester, but it's been weaponized against so many marginalized groups (especially POC and queer people) that at this point it's just turned into a rallying cry implying "ATTACK THAT GUY TO SAVE KIDS FROM GETTING MOLESTED" to get people to turn their brains off and act without noticing the subtext and most fears of it are DANGEROUSLY misguided, but even so it's PAINFULLY easy to see how you can start from critiquing how creepily socially acceptable ephebephilia can be (which genuinely needs to be criticized!!) - and you see that most of the people who care about the difference are creeps trying to use it to say "nuh-uh, I'm not a creep, I want to molest TEENAGERS, not ELEMENTARY SCHOOLERS, that's fine!" and you decide "no, I'm not going to play your game, I'm going to use the word everyone recognizes as colloquially meaning 'child abuse' because call it whatever you want, abusing a 14-year old isn't 'better' than abusing a 10-year old" and that can get turned into the fear of...whatever else someone wants to demonize under the specter of pedophilia even in someone who knows about the corrupt usage of the word. Furthermore, child abusers are...somewhat good? at using the internet to find new victims - even though they're one of the least common online threats, mostly what you see is scams and most child abuse is STILL committed by family or authority figures offline, but that's another issue for another day, the point is that we know that assholes creeping on kids online is at least something that HAPPENS, so in that context, it's pretty easy to start from a place of concern for internet safety and end up destructively hypervigilant.

But incest?

One, how do you expect incest to ever be normalized? There are no even somewhat widespread phenomena you can point to that suggest this is even possible, like you can with "barely legal" being a popular porn category or manosphere memes that center on how teenagers don't know better than to run away from creeps like them. When incest shows up in media it's almost always code for deep corruption. It's a pervasive negative stereotype of the poor in red states. How do you expect a few people with taboo kinks to turn that completely on its head?

Two, if that WERE possible, what is the threat here, particularly to the people you're saying it's a threat to?

Incest is bad because some 99.something% of cases are abusive, yes. So that's definitely not something we want to encourage...not that it's exactly easy to encourage like I said, but let's pretend anyway. Let's pretend that person you called out for writing an incest fic absolutely does want to fuck their siblings, and there's a callout for them for that - that callout is likely justified by the claim that this is a DANGEROUS person, and...that's really where this falls apart, isn’t it? Sure, it's good to care about other people, but then why the big public warning of danger that...isn't to you, or any other random stranger online? You can't recruit new family members to abuse over the internet. The closest you can come is get someone to roleplay a taboo kink with you - which...isn't inherently abusive, as it turns out! Consensual roleplay isn't abuse! How about that!

....oh. Wait a second. That's right, queer people have been describing their relationships as "familial" and even legally adopting each other in lieu of being able to get married for at least multiple decades, and laws against incestuous abuse have been repurposed against us for just as long.

Hm. I think some of you got weasel-worded here. Whoops.

[frostcorpsclub]

Name: Jasper Sheldon Frost

Nickname(s): Big Man (by his Mommy), Creep, The Basement Dweller, Incel 

Main Ability: Cryokinetic Invisibility- The user can become invisible when in/on/touching snow. Jaspers works more like light reflections off the physical snow on his body showing the room around him instead of his body. (Source: Superpower wiki) 

Personality: 

Since the day Jasper formed he has had a special place in his parents hearts that none of their children can ever replace, it isn’t a favoritism per say but an understanding that the circumstances of his birth make Jasper one of a kind. Anyone who knows Jasper, though, will tell you that he doesn’t seem very special. Unlike his brazenly  boundary crossing father and the hostess with the mostess, he’s an introvert with a bitter attitude who spends most of his time locked away in his basement room, only coming out for the dinners he’s forced to attend with the rest of the family and acting like he’s gracing them with his presence when he does so. He would tell you that he has lots of friends! Online friends do count you know. It is also true that he is a lot more like his parents than what appears on the surface. Jasper has a devotion to his mother that some may describe as obsessive, which is saying a lot when your other siblings already practically worship the woman. She tries, at times, to cut the umbilical cord. Suzy babies all her sons, giving her plausible deniability for this one in particular, Jack can’t get upset with her. Jasper doesn’t understand why he has…almost an instinct to resent his father. Yet, at the same time longs for his approval and jumps at the opportunity to prove that he’s as strong and masculine as any of his brothers. Jasper takes after his father most of all in the sense that his vices are almost exactly the same, but rebooted for the modern age. He like to people watch, especially if the people he’s watching aren’t aware they’re being watched. He knows that he’s physically strong when it comes down to it. But he’s unpracticed and this makes him feel so much more powerful. His hopeless romanticism goes hand in hand with this. Heavy on the “hopeless.” Protectiveness and possessiveness are two sides of the same coin. Especially for someone filled with raging mutant hormones and a sense of entitlement. Jasper does have a sense of shame for the way he is. He knows his mother wouldn’t approve of some of the things he does and says online. She doesn’t approve of him talking back to his father either so he has to tuck his tail between his legs. In a way, it kind of works in favor of those around him. Jasper finds himself second guessing his actions more as the years go by. Sometimes he even does the right thing. 

Future Spouse: Paloma 

Future Children: Paquita and Auril

Trivia

You need to have seen the second Jack Frost to fully understand Jasper’s birth I’m sorry lol but Jasper was not born from Suzy like his siblings.

Jasper was a hatched snowball, upon ingesting some of Suzy’s blood he mutated in to a full Snowperson baby.

Throwing up snowballs has happened to Jack once before but this was long before his family and they were all killed, which is a source of trauma for him. 

I headcanon that the cloning process of a snowball combined with the soul chemical concept put forth in the films means that any Snowperson hatched from a snowball will be influenced not only by the personality of the snowperson they hatched from, but by their relationship with others. 

If you read between the lines when you learn about Jasper you also learn about Jack. 

He drools when he’s super in “the zone”

He’s set up security cameras around the perimeter of every house the Frost’s own and spends a lot of his time keeping an eye on them. 

He assists in the internet side of business for Juno when they’re older. 

[yourdeepestfathoms]

more Glitchtrap and Vanessa things

Glitchtrap mainly manifests as a voice in Vanessa’s head, but he can sometimes appear as a full-body hallucination

Or, at least, she HOPES he’s a hallucination

They’re actually capable of being civil with each other

Dare I say friendly

Which is

Very Strange

For Vanessa, at least

Because isn’t Glitchtrap supposed to be a sadistic serial killer?? And yet he’s making light-hearted jokes with her??

At first she thinks it’s all an act to get her guard down

And sometimes it is

But other times, he’s genuinely just being chill

Because I don’t think Glitchtrap is malicious 24/7. I think he’s capable of being “normal”—as normal as the sentient malware of a dead serial killer’s soul can be, of course.

So sometimes they’ll have friendly banter

Or they’ll make jokes with each other

Not to give him credit, but Glitchtrap is actually pretty funny at times

Vanessa will be out in public, and she’ll hear Glitchtrap mutter something about someone, and she’ll have to fight the urge to laugh

He forces her to eat not because he cares about her, but because her body is HIS body, and he doesn’t want it shutting down because she’s too fucking dense to remember to drink water

Glitchtrap does NOT like Luis

Not one bit (same bro!!)

He may be a monster, but even HE can recognize that Luis is an obsessive creep who’s obviously just trying to get into Vanessa’s pants

“He’s a perverse nut job. I don’t want you talking to him anymore. He’s a distraction to you, anyway. Ignore him.” “What are you, my dad?” “I’m your boss, girl. And you will do as I say, or I’ll take care of the freak on my own.” “Seriously, you sound like SUCH a dad right now.” “It’s almost like I was one, you idiotic bitch.”

Glitchtrap is the CEO of insulting nicknames

They’ll be having a regular conversation, and then Vanessa will slip up in the most minuscule way, and suddenly she’s being called a brainless whore

On the other side of that coin: creepy terms of affection

“My dear” and “love” are most commonly used for Vanessa

They’re usually used in the context of sarcasm or in a sickeningly sweet sort of way

(In a non-romantic way, I should add. Just in case because I know SOME people will take it that way)

Glitchtrap is EXTREMELY volatile in his mood. Little, absolutely minute things will send him into a seething rage. One minute, he’ll be chatting calmly with Vanessa over something, the next moment, he’ll be screaming at her to the point where her ears bleed (literally)

So Vanessa is CONSTANTLY walking on eggshells with him

Sometimes Glitchtrap’s emotions and desires will bleed into Vanessa’s, and it’s quite frightening for her because she’ll randomly get these awful, sadistic urges that she can’t control

Glitchtrap has a scary amount of control over her body and body functions

He can make her fold over in unimaginable agony with one proverbial flick of his wrist, and there’s nothing she can do to stop him because he has more control than she does

This is one of the ways he gets her to do what he wants

He’ll do this shit in public, too

Because his most effective method of “persuasion” is humiliation

Vanessa will be at the grocery store, in a quiet argument with Glitchtrap, and suddenly, an excruciating pain will infect her entire body, forcing her down to her knees in the frozen food aisle

“Stop it.” “Say I’m right.” “People are staring.” “Say I’m right, and I’ll stop.” “No! You’re not—” She has to fight the urge to scream as the pain doubles down more intensely, to the point where she almost blacks out.

Though, she prefers this form of public humiliation compared to his…other methods.

After all, Glitchtrap is a partially digital being. He has access to her computer and any other electronic device. He has access to her private information.

He taunts her with this private information. Threatens to leak it to everyone and anyone she knows. Even to people she doesn’t know. It won’t be difficult for him to mass spread it all over the internet.

I can easily go more into depth about this specific concept. I won’t on this post, but I just think it really helps highlight how truly messed up Glitchtrap is.

[struggling-with-time]

How to spiral out of control [Simpbur x reader]

Pairing: c!Wilbur Soot x fem!reader (Simpbur x reader)

Summary: How simpbur became simpbur. And how you grew up and lived with him.

Warnings: Obsession, unhealthy obsession, stalking, murder, drugging, unhealthy relationship, and Simpbur being a creep.

Words: 5K

Masterlist: Wilbur’s Masterlist - Full Masterlist

A/N: Listen I had brainrot. And I don't know how to defend this. (Also requests are still open! Click here!) And it's unedited for now it's 5:12 am here I will edit later today

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Wilbur was a pretty insignificant child. The death of his mother being one of the most interesting things about his childhood. While he claimed not to blame his youngest brother for the loss of his mother. He certainly had a funny way of showing his youngest brother affection.

Wilbur is the middle child of three. A charming but quiet and well accomplished older brother, who seems to never have to end to his dedication neither success. And his youngest brother, a loud ball of sunshine that just seems to make everyone in a good mood. Truly good with people, something Wilbur never seemed to grasp.

His whole childhood tainted by that fact. Always living in the shadow of his brothers, the clear favourites of everyone who came near the family of four.

So his grades was just average, never good enough to get acknowledged, never bad enough to need extra attention. Just average, like the rest of him. He grew up lanky, not athletic neither unable to run. Wilbur was grey in a family of golden people. His father raised them alone for most of Wilbur’s life. His father that despite never saying it out loud had clear favourites in his brothers. It was always, oh and Wilbur too!

Never him, never just him.

So, Wilbur spent most of his childhood lonely, disregarded and weird. A pitiful child. A pathetic child.

The thing is there was one thing, that made Wilbur worth anyone’s time. One person. You.

His childhood best friend.

Well, that’s what anyone who only knew Wilbur would say. Because you were the only friend he had. However, it was different for you, although the two of you were good friends, you wouldn’t call him your best friend for years. That didn’t happen till you became teenagers.

You had always tried your best to include the weird kid in playdates, birthday parties, and playground games. But nobody else seemed to find him worth their time, with his weird and morbid comments. But you persisted that he wasn’t that weird, besides his older brother was really cool.

So, you stick around, you stick around as playdates become hangouts, as dolls become makeup, and homework goes from learning to read to writing essays.

While you had many friends, both come and go and stay, Wilbur had been there for as long as you could remember. A playground proposal documented on home video. And a remake of it on the day of your school dance. You had played along, but it was known to everyone that your childhood friend wanted to be more than friends. But you stayed, smiled for the camera and laughed it off.

Then the school dance was over, and the last exam had been taken. That’s when you moved a country over, and slowly you lost contact with the people you used to call friends, but Wilbur stayed. Wilbur always stayed.

He finally got the spot as the best friend in your mind too. A definite win in his book.

Wilbur had always been odd, a bit to the left of normal. But now, with distance and screens in between you, he only started to act more concerning. This was around the time he started talking about feeling depressed and useless.

Of course, you always told him you didn’t believe that, what else were you supposed to say? Your friendship turning more and more into therapy sessions once a week for Wilbur on your end. While for him it was the highlight of his week.

Clicking the call button beside your profile picture, an anime girl from one he had recommended to you himself. One he had stayed up an entire night to shift through different animes to find the perfect one to send your way. One he was guaranteed you would watch.

“Wilbur, I should really get off.”

“C’mon stay on just a bit later, please.”

The silence deafening over the video call, he watches you intensely as you pull your legs into your chest, your shitty webcam standing beside you on your bed.

Wilbur reached out for the energy drink beside him, a new habit he has picked up. The more hours spent on the computer, the more he seemed to consume.

“Fine, just half an hour more. But then it’s the last half hour.”

Wilbur smiles at that, you choosing him over everything else in the world. He likes that, he likes that a lot. You valuing him. Spending time with him, and only him. Your attention is his.

“We could always fall asleep on call, then we could keep talking.”

“Another day Wilbur, another day.”

That. That sentence he on the other hand didn’t like. Not one bit. A promise never kept. A promise left unspoken and unpromised from your side, but a broken and abandoned promise on his side.

Then there was the wall incident.

Wilbur wouldn’t have told you if it weren’t for you noticing the hole in his wall. One that matched his fist quite neatly. His father had taken his PS4 in punishment for Wilbur using so much the WiFi plan to call you. At least that’s what he told you.

In reality, he had gotten into a fight with his older brother, his brother had asked about you, how you were doing, and if he could say hi during a call. There was something about the words that had irked Wilbur, something that set him off, something about him that made his brother seem dangerous to Wilbur. So, he had decked his older brother in the face. Causing a blackeye to occur.

In return, Wilbur now sported a big black and blue spot from where he hit the floor. His brother having immediately tackled him.

And to Wilbur that had confirmed his thoughts. Other guys are dangerous, he’s the only one you should rely on.

The wall had taken the brunt of his rage that night, a screaming match with his dad that ended with his little brother getting sent to his friends' house, and his PS4 getting confiscated until Wilbur had gotten a job and was able to pay back the damages.

And he did get a job, much to your surprise. But you had encouraged him throughout it all. A dead-end cashier job that only seemed to make his world staler and more bothersome than before.

A time where he searched for every distraction possible, gaming, music, you.

You were proud of him when he got the hole in his wall fixed, and even more when he kept his job. And Wilbur doesn’t remember you ever giving him more praise than the day he told you he was starting to investigate going to university.

Naturally, you helped him, and along the way, Wilbur picked up a guitar. A new asset to his den of depression that his room had become, decked in led lights, and overpriced RGB gaming stuff.

The university acceptance came rather quick, and suddenly Wilbur was packing up his life and heading to university. Boxes filled with stuff he barely remembered owning, and kitchen appliances that would never see the light of the day.

And he can feel you starting to drift, already busy with your own life. But he clings to you.

He stays, Wilbur always stays in your life. Even when you drift.

Wilbur knows it’s affecting him. It’s not hidden from anyone. The longer that goes between the two of you talking, the sourer his mood gets. The longer you don’t respond to him, the more messages he sends. The more information he craves to know.

Who are you talking to?

Who are you seeing?

Who is so much more important than him?

Hadn’t he always been there for you?

Hadn’t he always stayed?

You owe him.

Wilbur grows bitter and resentful. But not to you, never to you. But for everyone around you. His biggest joys in life now coming from the ungodly amount of caffeine he drinks, and whenever you reach out first.

This is why the day you call him asking for help is forever a day that will bring him joy.

“Hey Will, you’re really good with tech, and I was wondering if you wanted to help me start streaming.”

He chokes on the energy drink. He chokes on his words. He chokes on the air. He drowns.

His heart aching. His anger festering. His-

“Sure.”

He hears himself respond before he can even process the thought.

It takes him 2 days of absence from university, and what feels like 2 even longer nights, before he’s an expert on how to stream. He reads everything he can find, he watched everything that gets suggested.

You asked him for help, so he will help.

But Wilbur, spends these hours conflicted. You want his help, not someone else’s, someone lesser than him. Him.

But at the same time. His mind keeps wandering, isn’t he enough any longer? Isn’t he good enough for you? Why isn’t he good enough for you? Why? Why?

And thus, he learns you how to use the software, and beings alongside you. He finds comfort in knowing most of your streams whenever possible is spent with him on a call with you.

Although that happens after hours of pestering, that doesn’t matter. He gets to talk to you, while the rest is limited to a measly chat.

You seem to find yourself comfortably in the gaming category, slowly growing. Slowly rising.

Wilbur’s own streams, on the other hand, feels more like incoherent rants interrupted by his guitar plays. And once in a blue moon, you are on call with him.

It doesn’t take long before he gives up, watching you grow. Finding more comfort in watching you, instead of being the watched. Not that anyone really did watch him besides for you.

Wilbur stays out of a camera, as you only seem to grow more comfortable being in front of one.

The first time you have someone on a call with you on stream, who isn’t Wilbur. He just can’t help but break his bedside lamp. It’s a guy nonetheless. A guy from the internet. The type of guy Wilbur has never been shy to tell you horror stories about.

And this is where another bad habit of his started to emerge. He just can’t help himself. But you’re laughing with someone else. You’re smiling for someone else. You’re his. Not anyone else’s. His. His. His.

Wilbur is quick to find the donating button he had helped you set up himself. At that time it had only been used a couple of times. Nothing big. But Wilbur wants big. He wants attention. He wants you.

He fumbles with his credit card as he keys in the numbers, he’s a bit too familiarised with them. Because anything he can get from the internet will be delivered that way.

And then the notification pops up on your screen. A donation number you had never expected. And you start crying. Right there. Right on stream. And Wilbur sucks it up. He sucks it right up that you’re crying for him, whiling praising him, and only him.

The match you were playing ruined, and Wilburs smile only grows as he hears the familiar tone of discord receiving a call.

That night. You had ditched the fellow streamer to thank Wilbur and hang out with him.

Something you never thought you would regret.

But oh, how you did. How you did.

It takes Wilbur around 2 months to get used to a large sum of money means special attention to him, and only him. For everyone to see.

And he can feel you pulling away, so each time he donates, it’s bigger. Larger. Grander.

He’s never on your stream without a donation anymore. Never on call for free. But Wilbur doesn’t mind, because everyone gets to see you’re his.

And he keeps increasing the amount as you keep growing until he hits a stalemate. He’s using half of his paycheck on you, while he doesn’t mind going hungry a couple of days. His bills won’t wait for him. And he has been living away from home for far too long to ever think about calling up his father and ask for money.

Not to mention his oldest brother would never. Then neither will Wilbur. Because Wilbur is better. Better than all of them.

The larger your stream grows, the closer graduation arrives, and then Wilbur is sitting in another apartment. Another dead-end job. Another grey life.

Another dull life passing him by. Your voice constantly on loop his apartment. Constantly filling his life. As it always has. But to you, Wilbur is barely a part of your everyday. Only really showing up when a donation comes in. As you once again tell him not to spend money on you.

But he seems to stay. Wilbur always stays.

He’s the first to like anything you post on social media. Always online never off. Always lurking. Never missing. Never absent. He’s always there.

Wilbur never misses a stream; he schedules his life around yours. Even if you’re a country away.

And then one day you’re not. You’re not a country away, you’re moving back. You’re moving closer. And suddenly you live an hour away by car. Instead of an airplane ride, and shitty trains.

Suddenly Wilbur can see himself get a foot in the door. No longer grasping onto his parasitic parasocial friendship with you. He can see himself being more than the childhood friend who has always been there. He can see himself as the partner that always is there.

Wilbur is giddy the entire car ride. He’s giddy as he feels his bag burn on his shoulder. And he’s giddy until the second you embrace him in a hug and welcome him into your new apartment.

It’s bigger than the one you’ve had since university.

And then his future crumbles. You start talking about a guy named Jared. Fucking Jared. Why did even his name have to leave a sour taste in his mouth? A guy you met over the internet. Not just any guy. No specifically the fucker from the first time Wilbur had donated.

Apparently, he wasn’t a streamer, but a friend you had made during your 2 years you lived at university but never told Wilbur about. Not a single mention of him, and suddenly he’s all you’re talking about.

How could Wilbur have known? You hadn’t even mentioned him on stream. Wilbur always listened so carefully, writing down everyone you mentioned. You had called him attentive once, and he would never want to disappoint you. Maybe if he was attentive enough you would look his way.

Instead, here you are talking about this Jared guy. And Wilbur knows what he has to do. A thought he has been toying with for around 3 years now. Ever since you went to Disneyland together. A trip he paid for, and a trip that was streamed, so everyone could see you were his. You were always his.

That was easily his favourite video.

In the week up to the vacation, Wilbur had done everything he could to learn about cameras so he could help you, and do the most for you. He had even helped you sort through some of the non-streamed videos he filmed too for a YouTube video for you.

Which is where he found the clip of you changing.

The camera had been resting on your hotel bed, the video having a clear Dutch angle, leaving the hotel room slandered. But there you were, right square and centre still. Changing. It takes you a minute to finish before you turn around and pick the camera up again. Mumbling something as you turn it to show off your hotel room, and then the clip cuts to black.

He never told you about it, instead just saving that specific clip on a USB stick. A piece of tech he valued more than his life. Not that his life had ever been worth much in comparison to his.

Wilbur rips his bag open, careful not to make a lot of noise. He removed his clothes, and then the fake bottom. And underneath it reveals small security cameras.

Wilbur has never been more thankful for you being a heavy sleeper and letting him sleep on a mattress on the floor of your bedroom. He quietly sets up two in your bedroom, before moving into the rest of your house. One in your office that has been converted to a streaming room. His own personal angle to your public life.

Two more in the living room, he skips the kitchen and hesitates at the door of your bathroom. For the first time, he hesitates. His hand hovers over the doorknob, the other holding the camera.

“Wilbur?”

You’re standing in the hallway, sleep evident on your face.

“Will why are you making so much noise?”

“No reason darling, go back to bed, just needed some water.”

His breath is stuck in his throat until he hears you close the bedroom door again.

That was the first time he hesitated. And his last. He couldn’t afford it. He couldn’t afford to lose you further.

The rest of the trip passes Wilbur by as you introduce him to Jared. The douchebag himself. The asshole. The guy who dares take away what is Wilbur’s. Even on the ride home. All Wilbur can see is Jared’s image etched into his mind. His god-awful fashion sense. The way everything, he wore around you, just seemed to be a size too small. Nobody wants to see that fuckers’ muscles. Wilbur’s knuckles turn white, as he grips the steering wheel.

Jared has to go.

He’s ruining everything. He’s not part of the dream you told Wilbur you had. Jared has never been part of that. Wilbur was supposed to be part of that. Even if the dream changed through the year. Even if the one you’re living now is the unimaginable future the two of you imagined up at seventeen. But one thing was sure. Jared wasn’t part of that. Wilbur was.

Wilbur easily finds himself a new normal at home. The trip giving him a refreshed sense of hope. A plan in the making. His daily routine now including watching you all hours of the day. Not just your streams any longer. Every single second he can wrench out of those cameras.

And suddenly his friendship seems to improve with you too. Because now he can see when you’re sad and in need of a friend. He reaches out at the perfect time. Abusing your vulnerable state. Because it’s the best to do. It’s for the betterment of your future.

The more Wilbur is there for you, the more he resents Jared. He deserved to be in your bed, not that asshole. He deserves to reap the rewards of his hard labour. He is the one that has always been there because Wilbur has always stayed.

A simple click is all it takes for Wilbur and the item has been placed in a cart. Mere keystrokes and it has been paid. A single click and Wilbur has truly gone insane, as a packet is shipped off. A packet containing a bottle of sleeping pills.

The next time you invite Wilbur down, you barely recognise him as you open the door. Eyebags so deep you’ve never seen before. His entire body slightly twitching, and that manic smile on his lips. Wilbur brushes your concerns off, claiming that’s just what happens in real workplaces. Not that you would know anything about that.

Wilbur hates the feeling of insulting you, but you had barely responded the entire week. You deserved to suffer for a moment. Before he caves and apologises for being rude. That’s the moment you can see the resembles of his normal being as he hangs his shoulders.

Jared comes over that night. Just as Wilbur had planned. And this time he won’t hesitate. He even bought a bigger car for this.

Wilbur offers to mix the drinks, claiming to have learnt a new recipe. Which isn’t a lie, he has learned how to perfect just the right cocktail thick enough that covers the chalky residue of the pills. And sweet enough to make the bitter taste disappear.

He serves them, keeping a watchful eye as the night drags on, and Jared never seems to shut up. But Wilbur can deal with it for one night. Just for one. And then he won’t ever have to worry about Jared again.

He serves another.

And then another drink.

And finally. Finally. You’re starting to get tired. Slowly leaning against Wilbur. And he takes pride in that. Great pride. You didn’t choose to lean against Jared, you’re leaning against Wilbur.

Wilbur sits still until Jared too is starting to fall asleep. Wilbur is ecstatic.

He gets up slowly, gently laying you down, a pillow underneath your face. A blanket over you. He kisses your forehead and smells your hair. Taking in the shampoo scent still lingering.

Then Wilbur gets moving, he has stuff to do. Plans to execute after all.

He does his best to get Jared’s left arm over his shoulders. But their awkward height difference makes it difficult, but he can make it work. It has to work. He only gets one shot.

Wilbur gets the front door open before he realises a fatal flaw in his plan. He has to drag Jared down 3 floors worth of stairs. He realises he can’t do it the way he is now. He has to drag him down by his armpits instead.

It takes him the first flight of stairs to realise Jared shoes are making too much noise. He has to abandon them, Wilbur awkwardly gets Jared leaned against the wall before he removes Jared’s polished black shoes. Wilbur leaves them there, making a mental note to remember them when he comes back.

The rest of the stairs, while difficult and definitely breathtaking for someone who has no muscle strength. He makes it work. Wilbur actually makes it work.

He made it work. It worked. Oh god. It’s working.

Wilbur repositions Jared once more, his arm once again over Wilbur’s shoulders. The night sky greeting him as he steps out of the apartment complex. With great difficulty, Wilbur gets the two of them over to his car, where he throws open the trunk. In the proceed shaking the car, setting off the car alarm. Wilbur is quick to drop Jared as he fumbles after his car keys. It takes him nearly a full minute to turn off the car alarm.

Wilbur curses under his breath.

Annoyed with the time loss. He finally gets the knocked-out Jared into his trunk, and he shuts it again. Just as a front door in the apartment complex opens. A man steps out. He raises a hand to Wilbur, before pulling out a smoke.

Wilbur shuffles on his feet before raising a hand. And then awkwardly gets into his car.

Okay. Okay. Okay.

He has a body in his trunk. Now he just has to get to the harbour. Wilbur starts the car and starts the ride to the harbour a town over.

Half an hour has gone past when Wilbur is pulling the handbrake, and taking the keys out. He’s quick to get out, and even quicker to get to Jared. Wilbur keeps thinking about you. Your smile. Your kindness. Your voice. Your beauty. Your grace. As his hands are securing zip ties around the wrists and ankles of an unconscious man.

He has to go.

Wilbur reminds himself.

A cloth is tied around Jared’s filthy mouth, and then Wilbur is back to dragging him. It’s both easier and harder. Easier before he’s just dragging him across the pebbles and over to the brink of the harbour. Both of his arms are under both of Jared’s.

But it’s harder because if someone sees him it’s going to get difficult to explain. But nobody does. As far as Wilbur is aware.

So a splash is made by a body, and Jared is unceremoniously sinking to the bottom of the ocean floor.

Wilbur takes one more breath of fresh air. Before turning around and getting back into his new car.

He’s quick to arrive at your apartment complex. The man was no longer there. Wilbur goes to grip the front door. It doesn’t bulge.

Oh yeah, it’s locked.

He fishes the copy he made of your house key from his keychain and lets himself into the building he doesn’t live in. An invited guest, that has turned out to be an uninvited one.

He can feel the tiredness setting in his bones, as he ascends the stairs. And the realisation that he just killed someone hasn’t dawned on him yet. Instead, all his muscles are aching, and his eyes barely staying open.

He stumbles into your apartment. Another kiss gets left on your forehead as he goes for your bed. The smell is so nice. It’s so obvious to him this is where you sleep. And he’s soaking in each moment until his eyes are giving out.

His night remaining dreamless, instead, he gets awoken rather rudely around noon. You’ve pulled the comforter off him and told him to get up, so the two of you can spend some timeacting together. and Wilbur happily does that.

Not at all acing like a man who purposely took another person’s life mere hours ago. You rush him to get into his clothes. As you have something planned for rest of the day out of the apartment. You’re talking his ears off as you descend the first flight stairs your personal puppy in tow.

When you stop dead in your tracks. Wilbur nearly stumbles into you.

“Will, is that Jared’s shoes?”

And right there is in fact Jared’s shoes. The pair Wilbur had forgotten all about. The pair he had left unintentionally.

“Are you sure about that? Thought he already left.” Wilbur lies, he may be awkward, but he has gotten pretty good at lying to you through the years.

“Yeah yeah, you’re right. Why would he leave his shoes?”

The question gets left unanswered, and the tension is thick until you get outside, and the sun is shining. It seems it knows too of how good this day is for Wilbur, a dawn of a new era. Where you will finally acknowledge him as the perfect one for you.

The man from the nightstand once again with a smoke and raises his hand to greet Wilbur, once again Wilbur shuffles on his feet before he raises a hand back. You look at him weirdly, and Wilbur shrugs it off.

The rest of the day happening without any mishaps or other incidents. But the shoes just can’t seem to leave your mind, despite how hard Wilbur is trying to distract you.

And then the afternoon passes, and the night, and the car ride, and Wilbur is once again home. And as soon as the door closes. He crumbles down on the floor.

Oh god.

He did it.

He actually fucking did it.

He isn’t useless.

He’s fucking Wilbur, and Wilbur stays in your life. Even when you make such stupid mistakes as falling for another person. There’s only one person for you and that’s him.

You’re actually the first one to call him this time, and the smile never leaves his lips. Even if the call is about Jared. And how worried you are about not having heard from him. Wilbur just tells you; you should have listened to him. Guys on the internet are just like that. And that you deserve better. Someone like him.

You laugh at this and thank him for calming you down.

Wilbur suddenly loves phone calls.

This bliss is perfect for Wilbur you’re talking to him more and more. And he watches, god he watches you. Every step you take in that apartment is filmed logged on his computer.

However, all good things must come to an end, and Wilbur has barely pulled off his tie after work when a group of loud knocks sounds at his door. He isn’t expecting guests.

A group of men in blue uniforms greets him.

“Wilbur Soot, you’re under the arrest for the Murder of Jared Yarrow.”

Wilbur barely registers what’s going on, before he’s in a holding cell. A psych evaluation under his belt. A phone call to his father asking him to help him out.

The days bleed together in the unchanging environment, and suddenly a defender is telling him to plead for insanity.

Then the defender comes back again days later with a court date, and all Wilbur can do is count the seconds.

Time for the first time since arriving slows down when the doors to the court open and Wilbur is lead into the courtroom. And there you are, looking beautiful as ever. Tears and despair clearly written on your face. You look away from him, and it makes him stumble for a moment. A quick look to the other side, confirms his fear. His father is here. Alongside his brothers.

The trial goes over what happened that night, the evidence, the sleeping medication, the car. Everything. Yet even when his sentence is received, even when he is told he won’t see the sun again for a long time. There is only one thing on his mind.

They never found the cameras.

And he just can’t help but smile at that as he’s getting lead away to rot.

Because Wilbur has always stayed by your side, Wilbur always stays. -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

[morelikedoccock]

I’m about to dig into some drama because I haven’t felt this incredibly disrespected by someone on the internet for a long time. If you like my content and/or how I deal with things and are curious to know what’s going on, I’m explaining below.

I’m gonna start out with this:

I am not going to answer questions about this.

Do NOT go to this user and send them anon hate.

Sending anon hate accomplishes absolutely nothing and it’s a shitty thing to do. Just don’t.

So, I relatively recently blocked someone here (not going to name drop because that’s fucking rude, as I’ll get into later) and on Twitter for several reasons, but as I’ve said before, no one needs a reason to block here. It’s the internet. I had BARELY even spoken to this person. They responded by block evading to beg for a reason, and also asked their friend to message me about it. I didn’t reply, feeling increasingly like my boundaries were being disregarded and disrespected.

Then I was told that they’d been vaguing about me on Twitter, and as much as I support a little vaguing, it was bordering on obsessive and kinda creeping me out.

THEN TODAY I discovered that they had posted a fic inspired by my au without my permission, but not only that, the first chapter of their fic is a long-winded and wildly invasive author’s note complaining about how I had blocked them. An authors note IN WHICH THEY USED MY NAME. My actual NAME, not my url (which would’ve been just barely been better).

This really upset me. It’s a blatant and open disregard of my boundaries and wishes, and also… posting personal drama to a PUBLIC FANFICTION SITE is so incredibly immature and just not okay. In response to reading their author’s note, I sent them a long and extremely reasonable message detailing why I’d blocked them and that I was very upset. I told them that I wanted them to delete the author’s note. I would prefer if they hadn’t posted the fic in the first place but I can’t tell them to take it down, I just told them to delete the author’s note. They sent me an immature reply and refused.

I was originally tempted to post the full message I sent them and their reply, but I decided that wasn’t the best idea. Instead, I wanna address this one bit of their response:

I’m still snorting over this.

1. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I don’t think I’m a good person. If being a good person means setting aside your own personal boundaries so people can walk all over you for their own pleasure, than I’m perfectly happy being a bad person with clear boundaries.

2. Why the fuck am I your hero?? What have I done to warrant that kind of parasocial worship???? I simply make art, write fic, and complain about stupid fandom drama. I am a regular ass person who happens to enjoy creating and has a decent amount of experience doing so. I do regular people things like work and eat and agonize over existence, and if you have decided to use your imagination to make me into someone that I am not, that is not my problem. Being treated like this makes me not want to share my art or fic. I’m just vibing. Ffs I am just desperately trying to connect with people who respect me/enjoy fandom content. Also, because I NEED to be petty, it’s *heros* (plural) not *hero’s* (singular possessive).

Anyway, after I sent them the message and got their reply, I ended the conversation and blocked them again. But now they have already gotten an anon hate comment on their fic (again, DON’T DO THIS) and they posted about it to their tumblr and Twitter claiming it was me who sent it.

I don’t send anon hate. I’m way too fucking anxious and also too old for that shit. I’ve done my best to take the idea of “the opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s indifference” concept to heart. Yes I will absolutely complain about being disrespected, but I do it in my own fucking space (aka here), and I’ll do my damnest to ignore any drawn out bullshit they continue to stir up.

So yeah. I’m honestly really riled up by this. I had been nothing but reasonable toward them, including my decision to block them, (in fact I blocked them in the beginning because they posted the same fic without asking and then gave them a second chance when they asked) and now they are claiming/implying that I’m harassing them.

If you’ve ever had more than a single conversation with me, or if you’ve ever read any of my long posts about this kind of stuff, you’d know that I try hard asf to be decent. I don’t send anon hate. I don’t name drop. But I do block without hesitation if something doesn’t click for me, and if someone doesn’t respect that boundary, I get pissed.

If you’ve gotten this far, I am platonically and respectfully smooching you on the forehead. If you still enjoy my artwork and writing, I would appreciate if y’all stick around. I know I’m not posting as often, but it’s nice to feel like I’ve got respectful people on here who appreciate what I do.

And finally, if you’re reading this and you know them: good, tell them I said to leave me alone. I’m tired of their childish bullshit.

[r3dmare]

𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙨 // 𝙟.𝙨𝙪𝙝 . 𝙋𝙏 𝙊𝙉𝙀- 𝙃𝙤𝙩 𝙊𝙣𝙚𝙨

-> 𝗂𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝗂𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗃𝗈𝗁𝗇𝗇𝗒 (𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽: 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁) 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗂𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍... 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍?

-> 𝗃𝗈𝗁𝗇𝗇𝗒 𝗌𝗎𝗁 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗅𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 , 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗈𝗋!𝖺𝗎 , 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍: 𝟨.𝟤𝗄

-> 𝖺/𝗇: 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗏𝗂𝖾𝗐 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗍, 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗉𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗏𝗂𝖾𝗐 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖽𝖾 𝗰𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝘀𝗲𝘅𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝗶𝗻𝗻𝘂𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗼𝘀, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝖺𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗱𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗼𝗰𝗱, 𝘁𝗼𝘅𝗶𝗰 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽𝘀, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗃𝗈𝗁𝗇𝗇𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒/𝗇 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗈𝗅𝖾𝗌.

-> 𝖺 𝖧𝖴𝖦𝖤 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗒 𝖻𝗎𝖻 𝗇𝗂𝗄𝗄𝗂 ( @sehunniepot ) 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾 𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗍, 𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍. 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗅 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗍 ❥

-> 𝖳𝖠𝖦𝖫𝖨𝖲𝖳 (𝗁𝗆𝗎 𝗍𝗈 𝗃𝗈𝗂𝗇!) : @sehunniepot @pimpnameyannie

Johnny Suh Teases Y/N L/N While Eating Spicy Wings

SEAN: Hey, what’s going on everybody? For ‘First We Feast’, I’m Sean Evans, and you’re watching Hot Ones!

the camera angles shifts from sean to a shot of the table. he is sitting across johnny and y/n, who are smiling at each other while sean introduces the video. they quickly break their gaze and look at sean.

SEAN: It’s the show with hot questions, and even hotter wings.

the camera pans directly to johnny and y/n.

Y/N: *whispering, excited* He said the thing, oh my gosh.

SEAN: Today we are joined by Johnny Suh and Y/N L/N!

the video cuts to photos of johnny.

SEAN, VOICEOVER: He rose to fame through his YouTube channel and his acting career took off through a number of indie films. Since then, he has been the face of several Hollywood blockbusters.

the video cuts to photos of y/n.

SEAN, VOICEOVER: She’s an Emmy award winning actress well-known for a number of TV roles—most notably for her starring role in the HBO series, ‘Obsession.’

the video cuts to photos of them both.

SEAN, VOICEOVER: Their latest work is the critically acclaimed film, ‘Day Dream,’ currently in theatres.

the video cuts to the camera pointed at johnny and y/n.

SEAN: Y/N L/N, Johnny Suh, welcome to the show.

Y/N: Thank you for having us.

JOHNNY: Thank you, we’re happy to be here!

the camera shifts to a shot of the table. johnny sits on the outside, but y/n’s chair is pulled very close to his. their arms are practically overlapped.

SEAN: I’m excited, viewers are excited—we’ve had so many requests to have you two on the show.

y/n beams, excitedly gesturing between herself and the table with her hands. johnny stares at her, smiling.

Y/N: It’s literally a dream come true—I love this show, I’ve seen all the episodes—I feel like this is the true mark of success.

JOHNNY: She’s been talking about this nonstop since we found out we’d be on.

y/n swats his arm.

SEAN: It’s okay—we’re all stoked to have you here! But the question is: can you two handle the spice?

JOHNNY: I’m pretty confident about it.

Y/N: That isn’t saying much, you’re confident about everything…

JOHNNY: She actually really loves spicy food. She can handle it.

Y/N: I do love it…but I’m not trying to fuck it up by saying I’m good at managing it, though.

SEAN: Well, I have a feeling you two will do great.

it cuts to the intro—shots of the hot sauce bottles, as well as the logo for the show.

the camera is back on y/n and johnny.

JOHNNY: Ready?

Y/N: Always.

the two tap their wings together, as if clinking glasses, and take bites.

the hot sauce and its spice level is shown.

JOHNNY: Shit, these are really good. Nice flavor.

Y/N: Can I eat the whole thing? I’m hungry.

SEAN: Yeah, of course.

johnny laughs at y/n proceeding to dig into the wing.

SEAN: So, you two are very successful at a young age. Johnny, you’ve been vlogging for years, and Y/N, you got your start with small roles in TV shows, and now have an Emmy. Are you surprised about how quickly you achieved so much in the span of a few years?

johnny nods at y/n, letting her go first, smiling fondly at her and watching. the camera pans to y/n.

Y/N: Y’know… yeah. *laughs* I’d be lying if I said that it wasn’t absolutely insane and overwhelming. I went from a few lines in shows to starting an HBO series? With a fucking Emmy? I never expected to get that role or any of this and I’m still confused about it. Acting… all this, it’s my life. It’s what I’ve wanted since I was a kid, and I’m so, so grateful for how far I’ve come. *laughs* I don’t know how anyone let me get here, though.

JOHNNY: *exasperated* Oh, c’mon, Y/N. You’re a star.

SEAN: It’s definitely well deserved. Johnny?

the camera settles on johnny, who pulls his gaze away from y/n to look at sean. y/n keeps her eyes on johnny, a soft expression on her face.

JOHNNY: I started out just as a kid with a camera. I grew up wanting to act, wanting to sing, and being very into photography and visuals. My channel started out as me just talking or doing stuff with my friends and it grew bigger than I could’ve imagined. I’m beyond lucky for how far I’ve come—and to get to direct and produce a lot of my projects is great.

SEAN: Speaking of, my next question for you is actually about your experience in the production of films. How does directing and producing have an affect on you now as an actor? Even for projects like ‘Day Dream,’ where you aren’t taking a role in production.

johnny runs a hand through his hair, nodding.

JOHNNY: *pauses then laughs* Shit, did I get sauce in my hair? I hope I didn’t.

y/n leans closer to him, and he lowers his head to her level. she runs his fingers through his hair, and shakes her head.

Y/N: Nah, you’re good.

SEAN: Just be careful around the eyes!

Y/N: *fangirling* AH, I knew you were going to say that—fuck, sorry… big fan.

SEAN: *laughing* You’ve seen a bit, then?

Y/N: Totally. Oh, sorry Johnny—interrupted.

JOHNNY: Don’t you always?

johnny laughs, and y/n pouts in response.

JOHNNY: Just messing around, don’t worry. But, yeah, I actually like this question a lot. Honestly, it gives a whole other dimension to the experience. I think that we—as actors—always invest love and care into our work because we want it to be the best it can be. We all come in wanting to do well for not only ourselves but for production. Like, we already know how big of a job it is for them, how hard it is but when you’ve been there, it’s different. You start to look at things you wouldn’t notice before and it’s almost like you’re hyper-aware of many more facets of shooting than you normally would think about—and I don’t think that’s a bad thing.

Y/N: *musing* No, it’s not.

JOHNNY: It gives you more drive.

SEAN: Totally. And I’ve seen your work— you’ve pulled off so many different roles, but I think how you executed the filmmaking was even more impressive.

JOHNNY: *grinning* Thanks, man. That means a lot.

the next sauce is shown, as well as it’s scoville level.

the camera cuts back to them, biting into the wings.

Y/N: I don’t taste much of a difference in the sauce…is my palate broken?

JOHNNY: Wouldn’t be surprised… weirdo.

Y/N: Oh, fuck off.

SEAN: It creeps up on you, but then it piles on all at once.

Y/N: Are you even fazed by it anymore, Sean?

SEAN: You’d think I’m more used to the hotter ones, but it still gets me sometimes.

Y/N: It doesn’t show.

johnny looks over at y/n’s wing and scoffs, jokingly.

JOHNNY: Damn, Y/N, at least clean the bone better.

Y/N: *frowning* I don’t wanna mess up my makeup.

SEAN: So, Y/N, this is your first movie. How does the filming differ from TV—is it any harder or easier? Do you have a preference and how have you felt through the process?

Y/N: It’s not that different—for me, anyway, I don’t know what others might say. I was so stoked to get this, especially because the concept for the film is pretty different to most of the romcoms I’ve seen in the past. Not as cheesy—it feels like a real romance. In fact, it felt—well, not easier, because, like, with ‘Obsession’ I’m so comfortable with my role and my cast but it was kind of the same here. Being with Johnny was great because I’ve known him for so long and it felt natural to be working with him.

johnny is, yet again, staring and smiling at her. you can almost see the hearts in his eyes.

SEAN: Johnny, did you feel similarly?

JOHNNY: *snapping out of it to look at sean* Of course. Y/N’s been in my life for what seems like forever and I was even more excited about taking the role when I found out she’d be doing it with me. She said it best—it was natural.

the next sauce is shown.

they all bite into the wings.

SEAN: How we feelin’?

Y/N: This one’s got a ‘lil kick to it, but it’s still pretty mild. I love this flavor.

JOHNNY: Yeah, this one’s my favorite so far, flavor-wise.

SEAN: We have some for you guys to take home, don’t worry.

Y/N: Oh, you’re the best.

SEAN: Kind of going off where we were, the internet is raving about your chemistry.

the two laugh, y/n looking slightly shy.

SEAN: You mentioned it was easy to star together, given your friendship. Was there anything, though, that was particularly hard?

unseen on the camera, johnny rests his hand on y/n’s thigh under the table, in a casual manner. she stiffens slightly, then relaxes as he speaks.

JOHNNY: For this project, I mean, Y/N was perfect. She executed the role of Audrey beautifully and when you have someone who just knows exactly how to play their part, it makes shooting feel more immersive and intimate. She’s just perfect.

Y/N: *beaming* I feel the same about you—you played Chris flawlessly.

johnny thanks her, and rubs circles onto her thigh with his thumb.

Y/N: For my first film, I’m beyond happy I got to do it with him. He’s been in my life for years, like, we met when we were twenty, and I just felt… everything was, like, comfortable, and easy, and safe. Gotta be real, though, the sex scenes were weird.

SEAN: *laughing* Oh?

JOHNNY: *bewildered* Are we going there?

Y/N: *shrugs* I mean… is that okay? Can I not say that?

SEAN: No, you can. We don’t bleep cussing on here, so I think it’s fine.

Y/N: I won’t share all the gory details.

JOHNNY: I don’t mind.

johnny is smirking, and looking intently at y/n. she tries not to falter under his gaze.

Y/N: *laughs* It was just kind of bizarre to see him like that? I mean, it’s my job, it wasn’t a big deal, I kept my professionalism, but was it strange? Absolutely.

y/n laughs nervously.

JOHNNY: I didn’t think it was that weird.

Y/N: *sarcastic* Yeah, okay. For real, though, it was my first sex scene, I was nervous, and he made me feel protected and comfortable… *quietly, cutely* Thank you for that.

JOHNNY: *fondly* You’re welcome. Yeah, I’m messing around, it was a little odd…but my goal was to make her comfortable. Our crew is great, of course, but it’s notoriously harder for women in the industry than it is for men. I care about her, I just want her to be okay.

SEAN: It really is. I’m glad you two were comfortable during all that.

y/n is looking down, biting her lip as she smiles.

the next sauce shows up on screen.

the camera shows the table as they all take a bite.

Y/N: Ooh.

johnny and sean laugh.

SEAN: Is this one harder?

JOHNNY: It’s a bit hotter.

Y/N: Nothing unmanageable, though. It’s kind of… fruity?

SEAN: It has mango in it.

JOHNNY: I think it really adds to it, it’s nice.

SEAN: So, something I wanna ask you two is about music. Johnny, I know you’re a great singer, and have been interested in music for a long time, being in musicals. And Y/N, you’ve contributed songs to the ‘Obsession’ soundtrack— you’re very musically talented as well. Tell me—do either of you have any musical plans for the future? And who has inspired you, musically?

JOHNNY: *laughing* Thanks, man, I appreciate that. Uh, honestly, I grew up listening to such a wide range of music. I definitely have plans to create my own music down the line… but I can’t really say when. I’m focused on acting right now, y’know? But it’ll be sooner than you think. As far as musical influences… God, it’s all over the place.

Y/N: You love Coldplay.

JOHNNY: Yeah, they’re my favorite artist. I like so many genres… *absentminded* Y/N showed me a lot of stuff, too.

y/n grins, patting johnny’s hand.

Y/N: Yeah! We would just share airpods between takes and listen to music… It was nice.

SEAN: I heard you two also fell asleep a lot on set.

they both laugh hard.

Y/N: We did—it was like a running joke. Jaehyun and Yerim—they were also in the film—always took pictures and teased us.

johnny laughs again.

Y/N: Oh! Yeah, to answer your question… to be honest, I was surprised that they asked me to do a song. I knew Kyungsoo would be—I mean, everyone’s heard his voice. He’s a god, he’s good at fuckin’ everything. But I think he, Jongin and Sehun tattled on me to the execs, because they heard me singing in my trailer. I work with such assholes. *laughs* I’m joking… but, yeah! It was pretty cool… I didn’t even know I was capable of sounding that good. I don’t wanna sound like I’m bragging—I was just surprised when I heard the track. And people liked it! I would definitely consider—

johnny is staring intently at y/n, who has sauce on the corner of her mouth. while she’s speaking, he reaches out to grab her chin with one hand and uses the thumb on his other hand to wipe the sauce. sean feels as if he’s interrupting a private moment, and y/n falters, cutting off.

Y/N: *speaking to johnny as if the two are in their own little word* -did I have sauce?

johnny licks the thumb with the sauce on it, casually, nodding.

JOHNNY: Yeah, just a little.

SEAN: *laughing* Do you like this one that much?

JOHNNY: *smiling, speaking lowly* Yeah it has… a nice flavor. *his demeanor changes quickly, smoothly, his tone becoming light-hearted* It’ll probably get worse from here though, right?

y/n is internally malfunctioning, but masks it. it worsens when he places his hand back secretly on her thigh. her heart is hammering in her chest and she resists the urge to aggressively bounce her leg. she’s SO into him, and he’s fueling the flame. unbeknownst to her, he is definitely flirting.

SEAN: Most definitely.

the fifth sauce pops up, as well as the scoville level.

they all take bites, and y/n smiles.

Y/N: Yeahhh, y’know, this one is… hot.

SEAN: Are you doing okay?

Y/N: Oh, hell yeah. It’s good. All of these have such great flavors—I’m excited to take the sauces home.

JOHNNY: I know she’s gonna cook something with it as soon as she gets home.

SEAN: You’ll have to send me what you do. You like to cook?

JOHNNY: *quickly, beating y/n to answering* Dude, she’s an amazing cook.

Y/N: *embarassed* I’m okay… I really love to cook though. *laughing* Wife me up.

johnny smiles slightly at that.

Y/N: One of our friends, he’s a rapper, Mark Lee?

SEAN: Yeah! He’s great, I’ve met him.

JOHNNY: I love that kid.

Y/N: Yeah, I’m pissed at him. He was noticed by Gordon Ramsey.

johnny is cracking up, and sean smiles.

SEAN: I think I heard about that.

Y/N: Yeah, a fan tweeted a picture of Mark’s shitty scrambled eggs at him, saying it was her boyfriend. And he fucking told her to break up with him. *laughing hard* I mean, I’m just jealous, because I love Gordon Ramsey and would love to be noticed by him.

SEAN: Gordon, if you’re watching this, Y/N is dying to meet you.

y/n shakes her head, shy.

JOHNNY: She’s too much of a shy little wimp for that.

Y/N: Is today shit on Y/N day? Goddamn…

SEAN: So, we have a segment on the show we like to call ‘Explain That Gram’. Basically, we just take pictures from your Instagram that need more context.

Y/N: I love this.

a staff member brings a laptop to sean.

SEAN: We’ll start with Johnny?

JOHNNY: Bring it.

the screen shows a photo from johnny’s instagram. y/n and johnny can be heard laughing their asses off at the picture shown.

SEAN, VOICEOVER: So, this is you and Ten Lee, the dancer and model, who you’re close friends with. Can you explain *laughs* what’s going on here?

the screen goes back to the camera pointed at johnny. he’s laughing with his head in his hands and y/n is suppressing her laughter.

JOHNNY: *clearing his throat and composing himself* Yeah, so that’s Ten. *he laughs more*

Y/N: God, I love Ten. I miss him.

JOHNNY: Yeah, he’s great. One of my very best friends. So basically, I was visiting him at his home in Thailand. He was supposed to come to Chicago, actually, but his schedule got packed at the last moment. But I had an idea to take photos in front of a greenscreen, wear ‘I Love Chicago’ shirts, and put images of city landmarks behind us.

Y/N: That doesn’t look like Chicago, John.

JOHNNY: Well, that one’s a wave. That one was just funny.

a photo of from y/n’s instagram is shown on screen. once again, they all burst out laughing.

SEAN, VOICEOVER: Here you are, wearing a dinosaur head. Could you give the context?

the camera is on y/n.

Y/N: *smiling* God, my face hurts… fuck, you know how to pick them, huh?

SEAN: That’s the game!

Y/N: Uh, well, Johnny actually took this photo.

JOHNNY: *grinning* Yup.

Y/N: You see, what happened was… we were in Walmart with our friend Seulgi, and I found a dinosaur head. And because I’m a literal child, I thought it would be hilarious to pretend to be a dinosaur and chase them around. It was an action shot.

another photo pops up on screen, again from y/n’s instagram.

SEAN, VOICEOVER: Here you two are getting on a plane. Can I ask what you’re doing here, Johnny?

the camera pans to johnny, who is grinning.

JOHNNY: We were actually boarding the plane to go visit my parents in Chicago. It was a few days after we wrapped up filming—

Y/N: —I have to interject before he lies about what was really happening. Here is concrete proof that Johnny bullies me. Little shit.

JOHNNY: *staring into the camera* I was not bullying her. She was already making us late, and I was trying to board the plane, not pose for selfies.

Y/N: … Honestly, all I heard was you saying you were bullying me.

SEAN: *laughing* You were running late, Y/N?

JOHNNY: She’s always running late.

Y/N: Well— *hesitates* unfortunately, I can’t dispute that.

both johnny and sean laugh, as does the crew behind the cameras.

JOHNNY: That’s why she has me. I keep her on time.

Y/N: I don’t know why I keep you—pain in my ass. *she smiles, despite herself*

JOHNNY: We keep getting sidetracked. *laughs* But, yeah, we were going to stay with my parents for a week in Chicago. It was really great.

SEAN: You’re from Chicago, originally, right?

JOHNNY: Yup! Born and raised. I spent some summers in Korea, and I’ve always had a connection there—it’s where my parents grew up, it’s where they met, where my family is—but Chicago is always gonna be my true home.

Y/N: Honestly, it’s great there. I always have the time of my life when I visit—especially because Mr. and Mrs. Suh are amazing. I love them to death, and I’m always so grateful for how welcoming and loving they are.

they move on to the sixth sauce.

Y/N: So, this one is making my lips tingle. Not bad, though.

JOHNNY: Ooh, yeah, that’s a little bit hotter. ‘S good.

SEAN: So, let’s talk about ‘Day Dream’. The film, as well as your characters, Audrey and Chris, and their journey through love, mental illness, and success has been captivating audiences worldwide. What drew you two to the film? Did you feel connected to your characters, and were there any parts of the film that were particularly hard to film?

Y/N: You first.

JOHNNY: As soon as my manager explained the premise and Chris’ character, I was hooked. Of course, I didn’t understand the complexity and intensity of our characters yet—but something was instantly so interesting and captivating. *he pauses* Chris was challenging for me—in a good way, of course. We have this guy who has so much going for him—but so much more holding him back. He’s really… going through it. He’s got serious, intense OCD, as well as depression. I didn’t want to fuck up my portrayal of him, or OCD, so I did a lot of research, and I reached out to people with OCD. I learned a lot. Honestly, though, he’s suffering. He’s struggling, and he wants someone to hold him together. He makes finding love his priority, he tries to make it the answer, to make Audrey the answer. He invests everything in her. I just wanted to make his mindset, his genuine and pure love for her… I wanted it to feel as real and human as it is, and for people to understand why he does what he does, why he says what he says. I’m being a little vague— *laughs* I just don’t want to spoil it. But, yeah, Chris is very important to me. I was absolutely honored to play him.

SEAN: It was very, very evident that you put thought and love into him, and to the film. I think you pulled it off seamlessly, Johnny.

JOHNNY: Thank you, man.

Y/N: *nudging him, reminding* Were there any parts harder to film than others?

JOHNNY: Oh, right! Sorry… ugh, I don’t want to spoil anything.

SEAN: You don’t have to answer it if you’re concerned about spoiling.

JOHNNY: Okay. Well, if you’ve seen the film, or even if you haven’t… there’s a scene near the end, where Chris is alone… you’ll know what I’m talking about. It was difficult.

SEAN: Y/N?

Y/N: Okay. *she exhales* Hopefully I can articulate this well. I was attracted to the film for the same reasons as Johnny. But… what really did it for me was reading the monologue I was given for my audition. I don’t wanna say what it is, since I guess we are a spoiler-free zone, but it was so raw and real. I just fell in love with Audrey, I really did. She’s an aspiring novelist, and she truly loves writing, and words, and feeling. Maybe it’s also one of her biggest flaws… but she can’t bring herself to write a feeling she doesn’t understand. That’s, like, her thing. Every emotion—every smile, every tear, she has to have felt it for it to mean something. That’s what broke my heart. Life has just beat her to death, and on top of everything she’s been through, after how numb she has been for most of her life, it’s like she craves that sort of pain, the heartbreak. She falls in love easily, and she wants the impending heartbreak as much as she fears it. She wants her muse. She wants someone to give her the pain she wants to write about. It’s really fucked up. But she meets Chris, and she invests her mind, her body, her soul into him—and she doesn’t know what she wants anymore. She’s as real to me as anyone else. She’s fucked up, she’s brilliant, she’s lovable, she’s mean, she’s extremely flawed—and I just love her for that. I didn’t want to just play her… I wanted to be her, to immerse myself in who she is. I want people to watch the film and forget they’re watching a film. I want them to live it, and for them to know and love Chris and Audrey the way we do.

JOHNNY: You made my response sound bad.

Y/N: Oh, shut up.

SEAN: You’re obviously very passionate about them—and it shows on screen, as well. I don’t imagine it’s easy to portray those situations, for either of you, but I can’t tell you enough how amazing you two did.

Y/N: Thank you so much. Awwh—I’m really touched by that.

JOHNNY: It means so much. We put our heart and souls into this.

SEAN: You’re welcome! It’s honestly Oscar worthy, in my eyes.

Y/N: Oh my God—I can’t even think about that… never in a million years would I think about getting an Oscar. John, though, I can see.

JOHNNY: *scoffs* You’re insane. You deserve one—Miss Emmy award.

she sticks her tongue out at him, and he smiles adoringly at her.

SEAN: Ready for the next sauce?

they move on to the next sauce.

Y/N: *biting into the wing, mouth full* Oh, fuck.

SEAN: Bad?

Y/N: *shaking head* No, just a… strange flavor? Not bad, but different.

SEAN: You two are really good with this stuff—usually people are sweating a bit by now.

JOHNNY: I grew up with spice. Korean food is hot.

SEAN: So, Y/N, I wanted to talk a little more about ‘Obsession’.

Y/N: Go for it.

SEAN: Rumor has it that filming for season three is coming up… can you confirm that?

Y/N: I don’t know if I can confirm it, but I will. *laughs* We’re supposed to do a read-through in a few weeks and I am scared shitless.

SEAN: Why is that?

JOHNNY: Can I just say—she regularly spoils the show for me. I’m scared shitless, as well, because I don’t want her to drop any bombs on me.

Y/N: *pouting, whiny* But Johnny, my mom gets mad if I spoil it.... and you’re my best friend.

johnny rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

SEAN: You’re notorious for spoiling—I’m surprised you haven’t spoiled the movie in this.

JOHNNY: I made her promise not to.

Y/N: Yeah. But, uh, I’m nervous about what the fuck is going to happen this season. I stay in close contact with production, and… I’ve heard it’s going to be insane. I love playing Mina, I love her to death… so I’m, like, fearing for her life and well-being. We all know Jongin’s character, Kai, is fucking stalking her, and she’s just… oblivious. It’s scary. And last season we started to find out about Kyungsoo’s character, D.O., and the skeletons in his closet…

SEAN: The show definitely doesn’t shy away from the disturbing.

Y/N: Right! It’s part of why I love it… even though it can get insane and terrifying, it’s addicting. And, God, it’s so crazy how well Kyungsoo and Jongin play their parts. It’s almost weird how Jongin is so good at what he does—especially since he doesn’t have a background in acting. It’s a challenging role.

SEAN: I agree—it’s very chilling at times. As for Mina, she seems very different from you.

Y/N: Oh, one hundred percent. She’s vulnerable in a way that I’m not familiar with, in a way that very few people are. Sometimes I wish I could shake her by the shoulders, because she’s an idiot, she’s purposely continuing to fuck up her life, and I want her to realize her worth… and to stop wasting her time with Kai. D.O. is better, even though he’s also batshit—and I can’t rave enough about Kyungsoo, my God. He’s a dream. He’s helped me adjust to the success, and helps me with my performance… We all know how perfect he is.

johnny had been listening intently the entire time, but frowned slightly when y/n raved about kyungsoo. his jealousy is shown on camera, albeit subtly.

SEAN: You know, we’ve had so many requests for you two on the show, as well. Jongin and Sehun as well.

Y/N: I never want to do an interview with Sehun—he’s a little shit and I refuse to compliment him. He bullies me more than Johnny does.

JOHNNY: *grinning* She’s lying, she loves him.

y/n shakes her head at the camera.

the next sauce is shown.

Y/N: Oh, this one is your sauce!

SEAN: Yeah, it’s one we made for this season. Ready?

they all bite into the wings.

JOHNNY: Oh, God… *he grabs his water and takes a sip*

y/n is coughing and has her nose scrunched.

SEAN: You guys okay?

Y/N: This hurts.

JOHNNY: Yeah, uh, this one is a bit of a leap.

y/n goes to scratch beside her eye, but johnny notices and quickly grabs her hand.

SEAN: Your eyes!

Y/N: *eyes wide* Oh, God, thank you… that would have been bad.

JOHNNY: Dummy.

SEAN: Johnny, you’re one of the most followed Instagram users in the world. On top of Youtube, Instagram, and Twitter, fans have been requesting you join TikTok.

y/n is giggling.

JOHNNY: God, they really have.

SEAN: Any plans for that? Or is YouTube enough for you right now?

JOHNNY: Honestly, I’m not that big of a fan of TikTok. Y/N sends me a lot of them, but that’s really it. I don’t have an account. So, honestly, probably not.

Y/N: You don’t watch all of the ones I send you…

JOHNNY: You send me about twenty a day.

Y/N: And?

SEAN: *laughs* Well, you’re obviously popular on the other platforms.

JOHNNY: The Instagram thing blows my mind.

Y/N: Oh, please… you always stop for pictures. You’re all about your daily fits.

JOHNNY: Because I’m fashionable.

SEAN: Yeah, I was going to ask about that. You’ve done a few fashion shows, and you’re an ambassador for Saint Laurent. You’ve expressed interest in creating your own clothing line, as well. Were you serious about that?

JOHNNY: Oh, yeah. I would love to be able to have my own line… fashion has always been something I’ve been interested in, and I enjoy styling my outfits, as well as my friends’.

Y/N: He helps me. I have a horrible sense of fashion.

JOHNNY: You’re not that bad.

Y/N: Eh.

SEAN: You’ve made headlines just because of your street style.

JOHNNY: *laughs* Yeah, that’s… something. Honestly, though, maybe in a few years… I’d love to have my own line. I’m also honored to be a Saint Laurent ambassador—they’ve been one of my favorite brands for years.

SEAN: You’re really a jack of all trades—Youtuber, influencer, actor, singer, and model. Is there anything you can’t do?

Y/N: I can answer that—no. He’s infuriatingly perfect.

JOHNNY: *teasing* Awwh, babe, you’re so sweet.

he caresses her cheek, and y/n is screaming on the inside.

Y/N: I take it back.

the ninth sauce is introduced.

Y/N: Fucking hell.

she begins to cough, and fan her face. the sauce is nearly unbearable. johnny breaths out, eyes wide and staring at the table. he also coughs a bit.

SEAN: You okay?

JOHNNY: Yeah, this sucks. This is hot as fuck, holy shit.

y/n is still silent, and begins to chug her entire glass of water.

SEAN: Y/N?

Y/N: I’m good. I’m fine. I got it.

JOHNNY: *concerned* You sure, love?

once again, y/n is flustered. this time, she’s bad at hiding it. she blames it on the spice.

Y/N: U-uh, yeah… *gets a grip on herself, waves him off* Yeah. Don’t worry ‘bout it.

she is clearly still affected, whereas johnny has already tackled the intensity of the spice.

SEAN: I’m curious—are there any genres of film that you two want to try? And do you two want to work on another project together?

johnny looks over at y/n, a slight crease in his brow. worried.

Y/N: Um, my mouth hurts. You go first, mm?

johnny squeezes her thigh under the table and pushes his water towards her.

JOHNNY: Of course I’d want to work with her again. That’s my Y/N—I feel like we bring the best out of each other, and, again, I love working with her. As for things I’d want to try… *he trails off, his mind definitely on things he wants to try… but not in relation to the question. he pushes his hair back with his wrist* I think It’d be fun to do a crime movie. I’m obviously fond of doing dramas and musicals, as well as coming-of-age movies, but playing a criminal would be fun.

SEAN: I didn’t expect that! I can see it, though.

JOHNNY: Yeah, I’d like to do something like Robert Pattinson in ‘Good Time’.

SEAN: I think you could pull that off. Y/N, you doing okay?

Y/N: *smiles* Yeah, sorry! Just had to get used to it. Uh… yeah, me too—working with Johnny again, I mean. Of course—he’s my guy. Working with him is the best. And… ooh, honestly, I want to be in a horror movie, or a thriller! I like psychological thrillers, and I love scary movies… very open to that. *laughs* John, we should do a movie like Zac Efron and Lily Collins… what was it? The Bundy movie.

SEAN: That’d be interesting.

JOHNNY: Hell yeah.

the final sauce is displayed.

y/n has her head in her hands, stressed, and johnny has moved his hand from her thigh to her back.

JOHNNY: C’mon, it’ll be okay.

SEAN: We’re almost done! You’ve done really great so far.

Y/N: *sighs* Shit’s hot, dude… fuck it, let’s get it over wwith.

the guys laugh as y/n hurriedly bites into the wing. they follow. johnny has a funny expression on as he swallows.

JOHNNY: Goddamn… this hurts. *he coughs*

SEAN: Yeah, this one is pretty bad.

y/n has her head completely down on the table, but with one elbow propped up, sauce still on her fingers. you can hear her moaning in pain.

JOHNNY: Here, drink some water.

he grabs her and sits her up, gently, but laughs at her pained expression.

Y/N: I hate this. Do we have milk?

SEAN: Yeah, we’ll get you some.

she coughs, johnny rubbing her back, and reaches for the glass of milk. he still seems collected.

SEAN: You got it, Y/N.

y/n is chugging the milk and giving a thumbs up. johnny smiles at her.

SEAN: So, we got deep with some of these questions.

JOHNNY: You’re a hell of an interviewer.

Y/N: *still pained, but smiling* I don’t know what you lace things wings with to get us this deep. We talked a lot.

SEAN: All good answers though! So, for this last one, it’s not really a question—anything you guys want to say to each other or to the cameras? Anything, the floor is yours.

the two look at each other, silently asking a question. johnny smiles, but it quickly turns to an intense stare. y/n’s eyes widen, confused. he can’t look at her like that.

Y/N: *nervous* What?

JOHNNY: *puts a hand on y/n’s cheek and leans in, almost smiling at her flustered expression* Y/N…

y/n bursts out laughing, but is equally terrified. her heart is beating out of her chest. sean internally feels like he is interrupting something again.

JOHNNY: I just wanted to tell you… it’s something I’ve wanted to say for years. Something that—fuck, this’ll probably change everything. I just need to tell you, get this off my chest.

y/n is panicking and fails at masking it. she looks over at the cameras, genuinely baffled. they’re doing an interview, what was he doing?

Y/N: Johnny, what-?

JOHNNY: When we were at that hotel with Jaehyun and Sooyoung—a few years back, remember? You lost your room key and got locked out, and I told you I didn’t have it, but I was lying. I took it on purpose to fuck with you.

y/n is gaping, completely at a loss. sean laughs, also shocked. johnny is laughing his ass off.

Y/N: I… you fucking bitch.

SEAN: You really had me going there.

Y/N: Edit this out. I have nothing to say to this asshole.

JOHNNY: *innocently* What did I do?

Y/N: *ignoring him, turning to the camera, smiling* Anyway, thank you for watching us! ‘Day Dream’ is out in theatres, and we really hope you’ll go see it. We put our all into it, as did the other cast members and the crew, and I know you all will enjoy it!

JOHNNY: Yeah, please go see it, you won’t be disappointed.

johnny smiles at the camera, and then y/n who rolls her eyes and shoves him, though she is unable to suppress her smile.

the logo appears on screen and the video ends.

[thesiriusmoon]

Harry Potter ships I truly hate

Disclaimer: I’m not telling you who to ship and whatnot, I’m just expressing how awful these ships are to me and then explaining why.

1. Harry X Draco

Now this is coming from a former drarry stan who before, hadn’t read the books. I thought Draco ‘had no choice’ and ‘just wanted love’ until I opened my eyes and saw the character for who he really was. That is a spoiled blood supremacist who hates muggleborns, and is loved by both of his parents. Draco bullied Harry. Although Harry fought back, it was because he was the victim and had to defend himself. Harry never went out of his way to hurt Draco, but Draco did it constantly. Draco and Harry would never work because Harry hated Draco just as much as Draco did him. You could ship Harry with so many others that wouldn’t be toxic such as, Ginny, Cho, maybe Hermoine (but I prefer Romoine), maybe even Ron if you want to. (I don’t ship Harry and Cedric because the ages are too weird). It’s so obvious throughout the entire book that Harry didn’t have romantic feelings for Draco, he only ever thought he was doing bad things, seeing as he was a bad person. Harry found love in Ginny in like the fifth book? Which is when the crush started, and no one else was in the picture for him once he began dating Ginny. In conclusion, Ginny is the one he married and had children with, not Draco, because he hated him and wanted nothing to do with him as he was nothing but a bully who hated muggles and muggleborns. Seeing as Harry is a half blood, and his mother was muggleborn, why do you think Harry would turn around and be like “oh he’s just broken I’ll fix him.” And ignore everything Draco ever said about his family???? That’s such a toxic thing to think... because believe it or not, in a relationship you’re supposed to be with someone you like as a person. Just because you may find Draco attractive, that doesn’t make him a good person!! Harry would never choose Draco over anyone for that matter. If it were between Ginny or Draco to be saved, you better bet on Harry saving Ginny.

2. Hermoine X Draco

I genuinely hate this ship with my entire being. It disgusts me. This isn’t an enemies to lovers, this is literally bully X victim. Hermoine didn’t fight back, meaning Draco was the full oppressor and she was the oppressed. Draco is a blood supremacist who called Hermoine a mudblood constantly and hated her, and the feeling was mutual from Hermoine because why would anyone like their bully? Falling in love with your bully is a book trope, that doesn’t happen in real life. When Hermoine was being tortured in Malfoy Manor, Draco stood and watched because he didn’t care, meanwhile Ron, the boy Hermoine was attracted to and loved, was screaming and crying begging for him to take her place so she would be protected. That’s true love, something Hermoine and Draco will never have. I really will never understand why so many people love shipping victims with their oppressors... like do you get a sick kick out of it by babying the oppressor? Saying things like “oh he’s just unloved” or “he can change!” When none of that is true. Draco chose to be who he is, which is a blood supremacist and was loved by his family, and Hermoine chose not to ever engage with him because of his personality and attitude. Draco hated her, and everyone else like her because of their status, and overall, Hermoine just isn’t attracted to him. Hermoine is attracted to Ron and he’s the only person I can see dating Hermoine because everyone else would be a bit strange. Dramoine is unbelievably toxic, and all it does is romanticise abuse. “Oh Draco only bullied her for 7 years because he was afraid to love her.” Stfu. You’d never hurt someone you love. Draco bullied her because he thought he was ABOVE her, and she was nothing but dirt on his shoe.

3. Hermoine X Pansy

When it comes to fanon, I still don’t understand why it gets shipped because in order to do that, you have to change Pany’s entire personality to the point where it’s not even Pansy anymore. It’s just some nice girl with the same name. Because the real Pansy bullied Hermoine and made it known how much she didn’t like her. Not only that, but Pansy was head over heels for Draco. This isn’t an enemies to lovers, this is shipping the bully with the victim for some weird reason... because Hermoine didn’t fight back just like Hermoine X Draco. If they were both at each other’s throats I could see your enemies to lovers, but that’s just not what this is. If you ship them because you’re looking for a wlw ship, why not take a look at Ginny X Luna, Lavender X Parvati, or even Tonks X Fleur, rather than picking the toxic ship that would never ever work and would only hurt Hermoine. Ron Weasley exists for a reason. Again, shipping someone with their oppressor is a very weird thing to do. For example, Ron is a pureblood, but Ron wasn’t prejudice towards muggles or muggleborns, because he’s a decent and normal person. Pansy and Draco aren’t decent people, and they bullied people. Really there isn’t much else to say as all canon stuff about Pansy is about her bullying people, and encouraging people to capture Harry because SHE’S A BLOOD SUPREMACIST THAT’S ALL SHE IS. Hermoine is a strong and independent woman and would NEVER date someone prejudice like that, she has standards.

4. Lily X Snape

We have to stop with this “she can fix him” mentality, because women don’t exist to fix men. Either Snape was a good person, or a bad person. He should be able to choose that himself. Which he was actually, and he was very clearly a bad person. You can’t force someone to be attracted to another. Attraction forms on its own, and it’s something Lily never had for Snape, they were only friends. To say that Lily owed Snape something because he liked her... is so wrong and disgusting. If she doesn’t like him, she doesn’t like him and Snape should fucking move on instead of obsessing over her. But, Snape overall was a creep so you can’t say “oh he made a mistake” when that man knew EXACTLY what he was doing. Ripping Lily’s happy photograph of her with her husband and baby, and taking the letter she wrote for Sirius who Snape could pretend she did that for him. Literally disgusting. Even the friendship was toxic. When reading I realised that Snape played the victims card a lot when talking about the marauders as if he wasn’t doing WORSE thing to them. Lily knew that Snape wanted to join Voldemort, as seen in the books. ‘You and your previous little death eater friends — you see, you don’t even deny it. You don’t even deny that’s what you’re aiming to be! You can’t wait to join you-know-who, can you?” Then she says “I can’t pretend anymore, you’ve chosen your way, and I’ve chosen mine.” Lily PRETENDED that Snape wasn’t going to be a death eater because she didn’t want to believe that her own friend would hate her kind so much. Though once reality hit her she was gone and was never coming back. To ship someone who was oppressed with the oppressor is so weird and wrong, and I genuinely think you’re strange if you do that 😐. Snape already didn’t like Lily having other friends... so what does that tell you about what kind of relationship they would have? A manipulative one and an emotionally abusive one. James Potter was a pureblood, and not once did he ever bully someone for their blood status. He did things to Snape because Snape was a prejudice piece of shit and deserved it quite frankly. I would have done the exact same thing. Remember, the Potter’s were ‘blood traitors’ and Snape was a blood supremacist, of course the two aren’t going to like one another. But the difference is, Snape bullied innocent people (laughing at the fact Mary MacDonald was subdued to dark magic) and James fought back for those without voices. Getting revenge for people who couldn’t do it themselves. That’s the difference between a bully and a hero tbh. There’s no way Lily would ever date a death eater, she’s a strong woman who can make up her mind for herself rather than having people on the internet say things like “she was brainwashed!” And things like that. She became attracted and fell in love with a respectful man who would never cause her any type of emotional or physical harm.

In conclusion, I will judge you if you think shipping abusers/oppressors with their victims is ok in any way.

If you made it this far, feel free to comment or reblog with your own opinion. Just know that my opinion on these ships will never change because they’re all extremely toxic whether you like it or not. That’s just common sense. It’s canon that Draco, Pansy, and Snape were horrible people who liked to make fun of others. Fanon doesn’t mean a single thing in this because fanon isn’t real. If you have to change the entire personality of someone so they aren’t abusive... what does that tell you about their character? A lot of people do this because they like how a character looks, which is so tone deaf. If you think a victim should date their oppressor because of looks... I’m judging you heavily. If a character is wrote to be abusive, I don’t understand people do fan art of them with the people they hurt in a romantic way.

You might say I’m being over dramatic, but really it’s not that hard to understand that you shouldn’t romanticise abuse or say that oppressor X victim would make the perfect couple just because of their looks.

Would you ever ship Neville with Draco? No you wouldn’t. And it’s not for the reasons you would think. I bet if Neville was conveniently attractive (in the books, I love Matthew.) people would have shipped him with Draco despite Draco mercilessly bullying Neville for 7 years. A lot of people would have made excuses like “Draco was broken!” In order to be able to ship two attractive men together. (Which also plays into fetishisation of lgbt+ couples I think...) This fandom is rather toxic when it comes to this, and they’d rather ship a very abusive relationship with two conventionally attractive people rather than a loving one with two people that aren’t.

[mosswillow]

Come back (Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: Dark! 18+, stalking, cults, kidnapping, blood, drugging, bondage.

Summary: Your father's death brings you back to your childhood home and the cult you grew up in. You just need a few days to pack things up before selling the place and leaving forever.

A/N This is for @tansypoisoning​ spooky challenge. I picked the words nostalgia and ritual as a prompt. It’s supposed to have a horror element. I was going for more of a suspenseful/creepy vibe.

It’s been eight years since you left. You walked away and never looked back, at least not until you got the call that your father had passed away in his sleep. His only possession, the small cabin you grew up in, was willed to you. So now you stand outside the cabin, suitcase in hand, taking deep breaths before opening the door and walking in. You look around the one room cabin, taking it all in. you’re surprised to feel nostalgia creep into your bones. A blanket on the couch reminds you of forts you used to build. The smell of the forest brings back memories of climbing trees and picking wild fruit. You notice a knife sitting on the kitchen counter and imagine your father whittling figures out of wood. You look back on your childhood with mixed emotions. It was a cult, plain and simple. Leaving was the hardest thing you ever did but it was necessary. You feel happy and free now. You’ve made new friends and family. You’ve gotten an education, a job. You’ve fallen in and out of love multiple times. You’ve lived life to the fullest. So looking around now and feeling loss is both unexpected and unwelcome.

“Y/N?”

A voice brings you out of your head. You look over to see a mountain of a man standing in the doorway. The last time you saw him was right before you left. The cult had told you that you and him were chosen to marry. It’s not that you hadn’t liked Steve or anything, you just couldn’t do it. You had made friends in the city who had helped you get out. They introduced you to the internet and taught you that there’s more to the world than the little community in the woods. You were to marry him as soon as you turned eighteen but instead you left without a word.

Steve stares at you with an intensity you’ve never seen before. His eyes travel down your body, stopping at your breasts for a few seconds. You cover them by crossing your arms and force yourself not to step back. You don’t owe him anything and shouldn’t feel intimidated by his presence.

“You look good Steve.”

“So do you.”

The two of you stand in silence for several moments longer than is comfortable.

“What are you doing here Steve?”

“Come back Y/N.”

Steve cuts in without interlude, his voice strong and commanding. You close your eyes and brace yourself. He’s always been like this, all of the men you grew up with had the same attitude, Stubborn and assertive. You had hoped you wouldn’t see Steve because you knew exactly what his reaction would be, that he would aggressively try to make you stay.

People in the cult can’t remarry. They have the belief that soulmates exist and once yours is picked that’s it. When you left you were condemning Steve to a lifetime alone. The price of your freedom was Steve's. He would not be allowed to rise in the cult without being married, would never have children or have what the cult deems is a fulfilled life. You remind yourself again that you don’t owe Steve anything. He can leave just like you did.  

“No.”

you make your voice sound as strong as you can. you were taught from childhood that women are supposed to be submissive and docile. It comes back now in full force, pushing you down like an invisible hand. You’re a boss now, having worked hard to create the life you have. You’re strong and confident but here, under the watch of Steve's cold blue eyes you feel like a child.

A look of apathy moves across Steve's face before his expression lands in a controlled smile.  Your body language wavers and you take a step back. Steve smirks at you, leaning against the doorframe.

“How long are you staying?”

“Just a few days, I’m just going through some stuff before I sell the place.”

Steve nods and places his hand on his chin, scratching the stubble that surrounds his jaw.

“Stay safe Y/N”

With that he leaves, shutting the door softly behind him. You walk to the window and look out to see a group of cult members dressed in white cloaks surrounding the cabin, half hidden in the woods. They just stand there, unmoving like zombies. You shudder and close the blinds, locking the door quickly. You need to get out of this place as soon as possible.

---

That evening you hear a knock on your door. You walk to the window and peak out. Nobody is there. You open your door and find a dead rat. A steak knife punctures through the eyeball into its head. You gasp and close the door quickly, locking it and stepping back. You check every window to make sure they’re all locked and look out at the woods only to see darkness.

After the sun rises you open your door and run to your car. It won’t start. You curse, returning to the cabin and grabbing your cell phone. There’s no reception and you curse again. You had reception yesterday. A knock makes you jump and you see Steve in the doorway, eyebrows knitted in concern. You could have sworn you had locked the door when you came back in.

“You ok doll?”

You always hated when he called you that.

“My car won’t start and my phone doesn’t have reception.”

“You want a ride to town?”

You eye Steve wearily.

“Do you think I’m going to kidnap you or something? I could do that right now if that’s what I wanted to do.”

He looks at you like he might pounce at any second. You can tell that’s exactly what he wants to do and the thought of him kidnapping you makes you want to lock yourself away. You’re in a tight spot though and don’t know what else to do.

“Ok, thanks Steve.”

You get in Steve’s truck and he drives you to a mechanic. He puts his right arm on the back of your seat casually, brushing his hand over your hair. the action is purposeful and you both know it.

“Did the cult, uh, leave a dead rat on my doorstep?”

Steve scrunches his face in disgust.

“Um, no we didn’t.”

You look out the window, not totally convinced Steve is telling the truth but also not sure that he’s lying. You never experienced any of the cults rituals as only married adults were allowed to do them. You have no idea if the dead rat is a cult thing or not but can’t really think of any other reason for the events of the evening prior.

You park at the mechanics and get out. It looks the same as when you were a kid. you remember running around playing hide and seek with other children in the woods nearby, coming over for a soda after an afternoon of playing.

“Y/N, long time no see.”

You smile sweetly at the mechanic, Mr. Stark.

“My car isn’t starting and I need to leave tonight.”

“Soonest I can come look at it is tomorrow sweetheart.”

You shift uncomfortably on your feet but nod. One more night won’t hurt. Steve drives you back to your cabin and walks you to the door. He leans over, placing his shoulder beside the door and looking at you. You refuse to make eye contact and unlock the door, opening it and walking in.

“Thanks for the ride.” you say, shutting the door and locking it.

“I’ll see you later.” Steve yells through the door. You hear him whistling as he walks to his truck and you watch though the window as he drives away.

---

That evening you sit at the kitchen table, hugging your knees and biting your nails. As soon as you hear any noise you stand up and open the front door confidently.

“Go away!” You yell to the empty yard.

You slam the door and lock it, moving to the window to look out. Shadows move through the woods but you can’t make out any defined shapes.

You find a baseball bat in the closet and check all of the doors and windows once more before getting in bed. You fall asleep cuddling the bat.

Half way through the night you hear whispering outside your window. It doesn’t sound like talking, more like chanting. You clutch onto the bat and sit up in bed waiting. There’s rustling outside and then suddenly banging on all sides of the cabin. You cry, holding onto the bat for dear life like it can save you. The banging stops as suddenly as it started and the cabin becomes eerily quiet. You run to the window and pull the curtain back but nothing’s there. The rest of the night is spent awake and shaking. You’re not sure if they’re just trying to scare you or do something more nefarious. You’re not going to wait to find out. Tomorrow you’re leaving and never coming back, if you stay here any longer you may never leave again.

---

Mr. Stark drives up around noon and you meet him outside. He takes a look at your car and you sit on the porch watching.

“I need to order a special part.” He yells and you walk to him.

“I can’t stay here any longer.”

“It’ll be in tomorrow and I’ll come as soon as I can.”

You’re stuck. Panic starts rising in you but you push it down. One more night. As soon as your car is fixed you’re getting in and leaving. You don’t care anymore about finishing work on the cabin. You’ll sell it as it, heck give it away. You’re sure the cult will take it.

Mr. Stark gets in his truck and drives away. You spend the rest of the evening working in the cabin, sorting and boxing things. You’re just trying to pass time by at this point and not actually trying to finish everything you originally wanted to.

You check all of the windows and doors obsessively. They’re always locked but that voice in your head tells you to check again and again. As the sun sets, your anxiety rises, finally falling asleep out of pure exhaustion.

“Y/N”

You jolt awake to find Steve standing over your bed.

“What the fuck are you doing here Steve?”

“I won’t tolerate that language once we’re married.”

“Get out!”

“It’s our wedding night Doll.”

Steve reaches out to grab your arm and you pull away, falling out of the bed and scrambling up. Steve looks like a monster in the dark. His tall frame blocks the light coming from the window, blurring most of his features. The only thing you see aside from his outline are his eyes. They glow in the dark, ethereal and terrifying. You run past him and out the door. The woods are familiar, having played in them all growing up and you take a well worn path. You hear Steve calling after you.

“You can’t fight this. We’re soulmates.”

You keep running and crouch down behind a fallen tree. You peak your head over to look back toward the house and see a white figure walking towards you. You stand again and run only to see another ghost like person. Every time you turn in another direction someone is there, walking slowly towards you. You’re surrounded and soon you’re standing in the middle of a circle of people, dressed in white cloaks. You kneel down, tears streaming down your face. Steve breaks the circle and walks toward you, needle in his hand. He sticks it into you and your eye’s flutter before closing.

---

When you wake up you’re strapped to a large stone slab. Memories come back of being told over and over never to touch it, never come near it. It feels wrong to be strapped onto it now and you wiggle trying to get away.  you look down and see that you’re wearing matching clothing to everyone else. How long have you been out? It’s dark outside so you assume it’s the same night. Everything is fuzzy and you look around at the people’s unintelligible faces.

“Steve, do you promise to love, to care for, and to control Y/N” You recognize the voice as an elder of the cult.

“I do.” Steve speaks clearly and you perceive a hint of pride in his speech, like he knows he’s won.

The elder brings a knife to your hand, making a small cut, doing the same to Steve. Your head becomes more and more clear and you pull on the restraints.

“You may kiss your bride.”

“No!” You yell before Steve’s lips cover yours.

When he finally pulls away you yell at him again.

“Leave me the fuck alone Steve, you have no right.”

Steve ignores your cries, undoing your restraints. You try to fight against him but he leans over and whispers in your ear.

“It’s done Y/N, your mine. Do you really want me to punish you now in front of all these people? You know I will.”

You still long enough for him to carry you to his cabin. You’ve never been here before, have never wanted to be here.  He sets you on the bed and you back into the headboard.

“Let me go Steve.”

“It’s done now Doll, you can’t leave ever. I own you.”

“You don’t own me Steve, none of it is real. It’s a cult. I’ll run away the first moment I can.”

Steve's eyes darken and he stalks toward you. You roll off the bed and try to run making it out the door but  fall as soon as you hit the treeline. It feels like something is stabbing your chest and you cry out in pain. Steve slowly walks toward you, letting out a displeased sigh before picking you up. The pain disappears as soon as you’re in his arms.

“It’s ok doll, You’ve just gotten false teachings in your head but you’ve been brought back to me like it’s always meant to be. I’m here to help you learn your place. Soon you won’t even be thinking about leaving.”

“This can’t be happening.”

Steve gives you a look of pure joy.

“Oh, trust me it is.”