#unfollow me before arguing with me

[ungoliantschilde]

I spent less than 10 minutes googling this:

Marie Antoinette became the Queen of France at 14. FOURTEEN.

Find a rich girl that’s a Freshman in Highschool. Tell her that her job is to have babies with ugly dude who’s a junior at the school, and make sure the economy for the whole country gets better soon. also, that junior she has to fuck? He is this weird sweaty asshole whose Dad owns the school. Total zero. No pressure… have babies.

New husband (wtf?!) has a weird as fuck family. Dude’s Dad is GROSS, and is utterly obsessed with an absolute skank that pisses off everyone. The Dad dies. BAM! Promotion. 15 years old and now you’re the queen. New plan (2 parts): 1. exile the skank, and 2. Have babies. Hurry up.

Couple Problems: Husband has control, he’s a social outcast. Think the swampy loser that everyone hated, but he’s king so everyone pretends he’s cool. According to Wikipedia, his method was ram it in and then just chill. No foreplay, no nothing. Dude just got hard and stuck it in and waited. That was an account from his fucking Doctor. That was Marie Antoinette’s fault too.

Numbnuts eventually figures out how vaginas work. And then: 2 miscarriages. Before the age of 20. 2/4 on kids. And one of the kids that lived dies in childhood.

Amazingly, a 14 year old brood-mare that married a 20 year old twat that can’t figure out how to fuck a hot chick that was thrown to him are bad at running an economy.

And what does history remember? “Let them eat cake.”

A phrase she didn’t fucking say.

Calling for Guillotines does not make you a revolutionary. You’re not virtuous or smart or observant. You’re a pawn that has been swept up by some one else’s rhetoric.

STOP APPLYING MODERN ETHICS TO HISTORICAL PEOPLE.

IF YOU’RE 20 AND JUST VOTED FOR THE FIRST TIME, YOU’RE OPINIONS NEED MORE TIME TO MARINATE. YOU HAVE NOTHING TO COMPARE EXISTENCE AGAINST. TALK TO ME WHEN YOU HAVE VOTED FOR A CANDIDATE THAT YOU NOW HATE.

Comrade Cunk

[francy-sketches]

Hope you’re ok btw ❤️

yea im ok dw <3 just kinda bummed out by the whole thing but whateverrr we move on twitter doesn't matter anyway ^_^

also idk if you sent me another ask or if that was a different anon but. I'm not gonna answer it bc I don't wanna create more drama (and also I'm trying to resolve it in dms rn so. don't wanna ruin that by being petty) but thanks for the support same goes for the other anons 🫶

[gloxk]

hate fuckin w aot plz🙏🏿 like uh what position would they fuck you in when they mad?

Fuck me like you mad at me baby.

(Eren Y. Connie S. Armin A.)

A/N: BEAT THAT COOCHIE UP LIKE YOU MAD AT A BITCH! Sorry it took so long to get your request. But let’s just all agree Eren, Connie, Armin are the big three. I’m not arguing with anyone. It’s true. NOT PROOF READ! 17+

Synopsis: Aot men fucking you after an argument!

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༺Connie༻

—————ON DA WALL.

Connie isn’t going to show you he’s mad, but baby you gonna feel it.

And oh boy you done did it today. After he seen you flirt with a guy…jeez. You really got him walking around in circles trying to not scream at the top of his lungs.

You not going to know he’s mad for a while, after an argument and you THINK everything cooled down it hasn’t. He’s still pissed.

Props to him for controlling his anger (Eren could never.) But when you start sweet talking him again that’s when it comes out.

When you get to rubbing on his chest and start saying “I’m so sorry baby, lemme make it up to you. Please.” with that little whine in your voice…oh best believe he gonna make you sorry for real.

He gives you a small grin and says “Oh for real? You wanna make it up to me?” You should have never even offered because now look at you. Against the kitchen wall crying out how sorry you are.

“You sorry ma? How sorry?” The harshness of his voice craving down on you. You couldn’t even spit out a comprehendible sentence just “Yes mmm so sorry!”

He was satisfied with your sorry, after the second round. I mean after all you did offer…

༺Eren༻

—————FROM DA FRONT.

Now, Eren he’s rough rough when he’s mad. Like oh lord..pray he don’t get his hands on you.

Please run while you can, because after he got you alone you can’t run.

This was especially the case after he found out you followed a guy from your work place, the same guy who continuously flirted with you.

Don’t ask him how he knows, he just does.

“I ain’t dumb mama. So go ahead and do as I asked.” The request was so simple, just unfollow him. But the principle pissed you off, you never told him who to follow and who too not. So you refused. Wrong answer…

Because that refusal sent him through the roof. He just laughed while shaking his head. He tossed you on the bed with no regards.

You never been fucked so hard in your life…The headboard slammed against the wall with each thrust he gave you it was ridiculous. “Look at me while I fuck you.” Eren spat out.

Your poor neighbors, the surely heard the madness that was occurring in your bedroom. But Eren did not give a single fuck.

He had your hair twisted in his fingers while he watched you block ole boy on everything single app you had. “Nuh uh. you ain’t done yet. Block him on spotify.” You were going to learn not to go seeking attention from anyone that wasn’t him.

“Nobody’s better than me mama. You should know better than that.”

༺Armin༻

————— BENT OVA.

You would never expect Armin to act the way he acts when he’s MAD.

Of course he got upset with you before but never something that made you change your view on him.

He always tried to be understanding, always listening to what you had to say and what was wrong. But, today was a little different.

He got so mad that you commented on how his friend looked good. He took it as you wanted his friend, but that wasn’t your intention at all.

“Ah, I see. Well just how good did he look y/n?! Why don’t you just tell him how much you want him to fuck you!” His insecurities were really starting to show. But damn, he just look so fucking hot with his button up shirt slightly undone, and his hair sticking to face. His eyes widened, it was a sexy sight. Armin could tell how turned on you were getting from him slightly raising his voice.

“Fuck—y/n. Stop looking at me like that.” The threw his keys on the table while shaking his head. Armin couldn’t look at you while your hand traveled up his shirt rubbing his abdomen. You were making it so difficult for him to be mad at you right now. Especially since you started begging for him to calm down and let you make him feel better.

The small tugs at his shirt just really got him going. He immediately bent you over on the couch, throwing your clothes everywhere. “Can’t even look at you. So fucking filthy.”

You tried to move away from him pounding your insides, hoping to get a break but no. “What the fuck did I tell you about that shit? Just fuckin take it.” Sluts didn’t deserve a break. They didn’t get that courtesy.

Eventually his hatred turned into love and he started spilling out how much he loved you while he was close to cumming. “I love you so much.” & “You mean the world to me.” & “Wanna make you a mommy.”

━━━━━━━♰━━━━━━━

Ah! tysm for 400!

[fastandcarlos]

Soft Launch : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: follow along to see the journey of charles’ soft launch to reveal your relationship…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 2,493,172 others

charles_leclerc: another week and another race, looking forward to heading to montreal with the team for another race ✈️

139,058 comments

username1: did you think you could just post those legs and we wouldn’t say anything??

arthur_leclerc: it’s taken you long enough to start dropping some clues 😂

oscarpiastri: @/arthur_leclerc this feels like something a member of the family would know about??

username2: is this a stupid way of telling us you’re in a relationship 🤔

landonorris: I’m not gonna leave you alone until you tell me all about this at the race just so you know

username3: no idea who the person is but I’m already insanely jealous that they got to rest their legs in your lap…

alex_albon: let’s all now guess what charles’ media questions are gonna be about this weekend 🤔

carlossainz55: and here I was thinking that I was the only love in your life 💔

charles_leclerc: @/carlossainz55 please don’t get jealous sweetie 💕

username4: please don’t go all soft launch on us leclerc 😭

username5: wishing it was me getting to fly around the world with you instead!

pierregasly: wait you’ve not just kept this a secret from the world but a secret from me too 😱

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63 and 2,038,604 others

charles_leclerc: I think these photos are what the cool kids call living my best life ☺️

127,431 comments

username6: I wonder if there’s a certain someone that’s suddenly made him live his best life!?

landonorris: you would never know you’ve never been cool in your life 😉

username7: you need to explain yourself mr leclerc!!!

olliebearman: we get it, you’ve got a girlfriend now, quit bragging 😂

username8: there are so many questions in my mind right now that need answering 😂

carlossainz55: 😊😊😊😊

username9: we should put a ban on soft launches they’re the cruelest things

maxverstappen1: that second photo you were secretly smiling at me across the media pen I’m sure!

charles_leclerc: @/maxverstappen1 whatever helps you sleep at night my friend

username10: you just know he’s absolutely loving the fact he knows he’s winding us all up rn too ☺️

oscarpiastri: as a cool kid, I can assure you that the cool kids have moved on from this phrase now 😝

username11: at least charles has finally realised that he’s not cool anymore 😂 danielricciardo: can’t believe you’ve finally decided to make our

relationship public!!

charles_leclerc: @/danielricciardo I just couldn’t hide my love for you any longer 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, arthur_leclerc and 2,473,081 others

charles_leclerc: somewhere new with someone new. life doesn’t get any better than this 🌴🌊

129,573 comments

username12: even from behind they look like such a good match 🥺

carlossainz55: I remember before you got a girlfriend and you used to go on holiday with me 😔

charles_leclerc: @/carlossainz55 forgetting like we’re not going away at the end of the season??

username13: how much longer does he plan on keeping these games up for!?

georgerussell63: I feel like a fan hanging on to find out more about your girlfriend too 😂

iamrebeccad: I want to meet her and tell her lots of embarrassing stories about you!!

username14: I want to hate him for doing this to us but it’s impossible…

pierregasly: I’d argue that life would be better if I was there with you guys too ☺️

username15: notice how there’s three beers, I wonder who else is with them??

lewishamilton: I refuse to believe you rode that bike in those jeans 😂

charles_leclerc: @/lewishamilton fashion first and comfort second 💯

username16: can we all agree if he doesn’t reveal soon we’ll all just unfollow and leave him to post to no one??

arthur_leclerc: not you leaving the family waiting like the fans to actually meet her properly 🙄

username17: have I ever told you charles how damn impatient I am??

alex_albon: nothing like impressing a new girlfriend with a holiday 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 2,493,072 others

charles_leclerc: introducing my beautiful girl to the beautiful sunsets that monaco has to offer 🌅

218,407 comments

username18: ofc charles would make it too dark so we can’t actually see her 😔

danielricciardo: this might be the most aesthetic group of photos I’ve ever seen from you!

charles_leclerc: @/danielricciardo I’ve been getting lessons from the best 🥺

username19: the way they look at each other I don’t need to see anymore to know they’re happy together!

maxverstappen1: you’ve got a girlfriend??? you should’ve mentioned it!

charles_leclerc: @/maxverstappen1 one day I’m gonna block you!

username20: I’m already in love I don’t need to be tormented anymore 😂

oscarpiastri: you gotta gimme some tips charles so I can up my game if these are the sorts of dates you’re organising

username21: im more jealous that she got to go on a boat date with him than anything else!!

lewishamilton: you guys are such a good couple, annoyingly adorable all weekend at the race

carlossainz55: told you a sunset was a good date idea 😉

username22: I hate how most of the drivers know about her now…they’re probably enjoying teasing us too 😭

landonorris: welcome back romantic charles leclerc, we missed you 💞

username23: what spy tricks is he using to be able to take her to races and have absolutely no one realise!?!?

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maxverstappen1, pierregasly and 2,429,013 others

charles_leclerc: no one else I would rather adventure around the world with than you 🌎✨

189,472 comments

username24: ah we finally got a proper reveal, she’s stunning charles!!

landonorris: nothing like flexing just how strong you are for the gram 💪🏻

charles_leclerc: @/landonorris no problem for these guns 🔥

username25: look at how perfect they are together ✨

carlossainz55: feel like you’ve grown up right before my very eyes 🤧

maxverstappen1: I remember when you used to moan to me about how badly you wanted a girlfriend 😂

username26: the day we’ve waited for so long has arrived, goodbye soft launch era 👋🏻

georgerussell63: I along with all your fans thank you for finally giving us what we want 😂

alex_albon: you’ve become as soft as your launches with these captions of yours

username27: I’m officially obsessed with the two of them together omg

arthur_leclerc: stop gatekeeping your girlfriend and bring her home to all of us too!!

username28: I knew she was gonna be beautiful but this is something else 🥺

oscarpiastri: idk about that, I can take you on some pretty cool adventures too charles 😉

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari and 2,894,162 others

charles_leclerc: feeling beyond lucky to finally bring my girl to her very first podium and deliver a trophy back home with us too 🏆🏎️

249,482 comments

username29: we’re all so happy for you charles, congrats on the win!!

scuderiaferrari: congratulations charles, the whole team is so proud of you ❤️

username30: we finally get to see her in the paddock too this is so exciting 🥳

iamrebeccad: it was so lovely to finally meet her this weekend charles, you’ve got yourself a good one there!

charles_leclerc: @/iamrebeccad I don’t plan on letting her go anytime soon either 🥺

username31: okay can we officially agree that she’s a good luck charm and needs to be there forever!?

carlossainz55: can you leave your celebrations with her for when I’m out of my driver’s room please 🔇

charles_leclerc: @/carlossainz55 stfu we weren’t even doing anything 🙄

username32: that third photo was from when charles found her in the crowd…look at his little smile!

landonorris: thought we’d be nice and give you the win seeing as your girlfriend was there 😝

username33: that was an incredible drive charles, right back in contention for the championship 🎉

maxverstappen1: forgetting the part where ferrari steal your trophy and take it back to base with them 😂

pierregasly: no pressure now but she’s got high standards of you on race weekends!

username34: the way he ran over to her when he got outta the car, I can’t 😭

danielricciardo: huge drive my friend, I would say enjoy the celebrations but it sounds like you already are 🤫

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 2,583,203 others

charles_leclerc: introducing my angel to the family, safe to say she’s definitely got the seal of approval ✅

238,492 comments

username35: ahhh I can’t believe she met the fam, this must be serious!!

arthur_leclerc: we absolutely loved meeting her, you guys are the cutest 🥺

username36: they’re still all smiling so they must’ve loved her ☺️

carlossainz55: you’re family are adorable so ofc she fits right in 😂

username37: how could they not fall in love with her, she’s adorable!?

oscarpiastri: I don’t think she’s quite met all the family yet…has she??

charles_leclerc: @/oscarpiastri you’re not letting this go are you??

username38: finally arthur got exactly what he’s wanted for so long 🥺

username39: I’m so happy that this all went well, I’ve got a good feeling about these two…

landonorris: don’t remember you posting when she got our seal of approval 🤔

charles_leclerc: @/landonorris don’t remember you ever being as important as my family 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, pierregasly and 3,092,174 others

charles_leclerc: seeing as you guys have been thirsting over my girl for so long, I’ll finally give you what you want. a whole post dedicated to my love, isn’t she just perfect!? 💞✨

318,575 comments

username40: she really is perfect, you’ve got yourself a good egg charles!!

danielricciardo: I feel like a proud father seeing these photos 😭

username41: how dare he suggest we’ve been thirsting over her 😂

maxverstappen1: I don’t think it’s just the fans who have been thirsting (@/georgerussell63)

georgerussell63: @/maxverstappen1 no idea what you’re talking about 🤭

username42: charles always knows how to deliver exactly what we want!

pierregasly: thank goodness we don’t have to listen to you moan about being single anymore!!

username43: I don’t think charles could’ve found a more perfect girl if he tried…

carlossainz55: as much as it pains me to say it…you guys are pretty cute ❤️

username44: forever obsessed with these two and forever praying for more content from them too 🙏🏻

iamrebeccad: 10/10 agree that she is in fact perfect!

landonorris: you’d look cuter with me by your side, but I guess she’ll do 😂

username45: we hate you for soft launching but we love you for the fact that you’re just so happy 💕

ynusername: 🥺🥺🥺

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[iamquiantrelle]

PLAYING FOR KEEPS (chapter 3)──────iamquaintrelle

⌗ pairing : jules koundé x black oc (fc: mimajhn)

⌗ tags : @irishmanwhore @lettersofgold @deonn-jaelle @sucredreamer @greedyjudge2 @f1-football-fiend @2serenity0 @peyiswriting @coffeevacation @sunfairyy @muglermami @bbgkoo @127hydrangeas @enretrogue @cranberryjulce @julescpu @kj77 @hopefulromantic1

⌗ summary : jules is focused on himself — no girlfriend, no drama — but now he seems to have both after pictures of him having fun at a friend's house party shows up in tabloids, and now fashion houses are calling for him? and his agent wants him to keep up this charade? ♡ masterlist. (✨💕)

The Louis Vuitton store at Galeries Lafayette felt different after Barcelona. Mila adjusted her outfit - a reconstructed piece from the latest collection that she'd modified into something actually wearable, turning the denim monogram print jacket into a crop with strategic cutouts and pairing it with the matching denim pants. Let the brand try to complain now that she was trending.

The weekend had been surreal. Jules was different behind closed doors - quieter, funnier, weirdly good at card games. They'd fallen into an easy rhythm of morning workouts and late-night conversations. Their "couple content" had been effortless - coffee runs, lunches, and one particularly viral video of them arguing about his sneaker collection that had their comments flooded with heart eyes.

Less than a day back in Paris and the gossip blogs were wild. The "blind items" about her were getting ridiculous - she was a secret heiress, an undercover model, a plant from a rival team to distract Jules before his big match this weekend. Everyone was speculating if she'd show up to support him. His ex was still watching every single story despite unfollowing her, which was giving obsessed ex-girlfriend energy. Even Jules had noticed.

The ex situation was getting weirder by the hour, however. Not only was she watching stories, but her friends were now popping up in Mila's DMs trying to be subtle about fishing for information. Some fashion blogs had done a whole comparison post of their styles, trying to find similarities in what Jules was "attracted" to. The internet really had too much time on their hands.

"they're saying you're an heiress now?" his text lit up her phone.

"apparently I'm rich and mysterious," she replied. "try to keep up with your fake girlfriend's backstory."

Jules (Da Boo): guess that explains the expensive taste.

LV’s Meanest Stylist: please, you like that I'm high maintenance.

"Mila, your one o'clock is here," her coworker called out.

She looked up to find Levi Colwill already reaching for the monogram duffle that every footballer seemed to own. Even Jules had one, though she'd bullied him into the limited edition version. Levi was exactly what you'd expect from a young defender - tall, built like a Greek god, designer sweatsuit. His style was still in that new-money footballer phase, like he was buying everything with a visible logo just because he could.

"Is it true you're dating Koundé?"

"That's what the internet says." She moved to help him, already pulling better options. These boys were too predictable.

"Jules' girl, huh?" He was examining a wallet now. "Man's been different lately. Actually smiling at training."

"Are you here to shop or gossip?" She texted Jules while Levi glanced at various pieces: "your boy Colwill is fishing for tea."

"Both, actually," he said, his hands landing back to that Godforsaken duffle.

Jules replied instantly: "tell him to focus on his own love life."

"Not falling for it," she told Levi, who was definitely trying to get more details. "But you are falling for that basic duffle, which is honestly worse."

Her phone buzzed again. Jules: "he's probably gonna pull game on you 😂"

LV’s Meanest Stylist: oh? interesting. and look who’s texting me a lot. missing me already?

Jules (Da Boo): whatever. 🙄 i’m just making sure you hadn't exposed my skincare routine to your followers.

Levi pulled on a jacket that actually worked. "So about Jules..."

"So about this jacket," she countered, adjusting the sleeve. "Much better than that duffle you were eyeing. Unless you want to twin with every other footballer in Paris?"

"Including Jules?"

"You're really committed to this gossip mission, huh?" She pulled out a few more pieces for him to try on. "Did your teammates send you to investigate?"

"Maybe." Levi grinned, caught out. "They've got a betting pool going about whether you'll show up to his match this weekend."

Another text from Jules: "please tell me you didn't let him buy that basic duffle."

"give me some credit," she typed back. "already got him into the new collection. Chelsea boys are nosy af btw."

"What's the betting pool up to?" she asked Levi, who was now actually paying attention to the pieces she'd selected.

"Enough to make it worth telling me if you're coming to the match."

"Nice try." She started ringing up his purchases - none of which included that tragic duffle. "But I don't leak information to the opposition."

Her phone lit up again.

Jules (Da Boo): "they're really out here trying to spy on my love life through luxury shopping."

LV’s Meanest Stylist: don't worry babe, your secrets are safe with your fake girlfriend 😘

*******************************************

Lunch had been a sad salad affair while catching up on a week's worth of client emails. Her coworkers kept "casually" dropping by her station, fishing for details about Barcelona. The store's security had to turn away three different paparazzi trying to get shots of "Jules Koundé's girlfriend at work."

"Mila. Office. Now."

Her manager, Philippe, was wearing his serious face - the one he usually saved for customers who tried to return obviously fake bags. She followed him in, already counting the sales numbers in her head from the past week.

He stared at her reconstructed jacket first, mouth twitching like he wanted to start there. But apparently bigger issues were on his mind.

"Corporate called about your situation with Koundé."

"Is there a problem?"

"They're thrilled actually." He sounded like this physically pained him. "Sales are up. Social media engagement is through the roof."

"That's good, right?"

"It's..." he shuffled some papers on his desk, "unexpected. But I need you to remember this is still Louis Vuitton. We have standards to maintain."

Mila bit back a smile. "Of course."

"Just because corporate is excited about your... personal life going viral—"

"Our numbers have doubled since last week."

"Still." He straightened his tie. "Try to keep some separation between work and your... relationship."

She thought about the five influencers yesterday who'd bought everything she'd worn in stories with Jules. About the waitlist growing for pieces she'd reconstructed. "Absolutely. Totally separate."

The Metro was packed on her way home to the 11th. Her head stylist salary meant she could afford a decent spot near Bastille, even if it came with a third-floor walk-up. Two people definitely recognized her - she caught them trying to sneak photos.

Another buzz of her phone - a text from Jules: "eaten yet?"

LV’s Meanest Stylist: had a little something, but i had a fun meeting with philippe today.

Jules (Da Boo): your manager still mad about the sales boost?

LV’s Meanest Stylist: more like mad that corporate loves it. he had to pretend to be happy while telling me to keep things professional.

Jules (Da Boo): he’s a big hater 😆

She started the climb up to her apartment, cursing Paris's hatred of elevators. At least her place was still normal. Small, full of fabric scraps and design sketches, absolutely nothing like Jules' minimalist palace in Barcelona. The couch was covered in reconstructed pieces she'd been working on before this whole fake dating circus started.

Now, sprawled on her couch in leggings and an oversized t-shirt, Mila scrolled through an endless stream of notifications. Her tiny apartment was her sanctuary - the view wasn't much, just a typical Parisian courtyard, but it was still decent.

Her phone rung with a FaceTime request from Jules.

He was stretched out on his couch too, locs falling perfectly around his face like he was in some kind of high fashion editorial. The golden hour light in Barcelona hitting all his facial features just right.

"You look comfortable," he said, taking in her current state.

"You look like you're posing for Vogue." She propped her phone against a pile of sketches. "Bruno's influence?"

"Please. This is natural talent." He shifted, and she caught glimpse of his own off-duty fit - simple white tank that showed off exactly why footballers could charge so much for sponsored posts. "Bruno's been blowing up my phone about the Young Boys match."

"Here we go."

"The whole internet's speculating if you'll be there."

"The whole internet still needs to mind their business."

"It's an easy game," he pressed. "Perfect timing too, right after the gala."

"Watching you play against Swiss teams wasn't part of the deal."

"No, but making our fake relationship look real was." His smile was unfair through the phone screen. "What's more real than supporting your man at work?"

"My man?" She raised an eyebrow. "Getting extremely comfortable with the role, aren't you?"

"Method acting. Very serious about my craft." He sat up slightly, tank shifting in ways she refused to notice. "Come on. I'll even let you roast my warm-up kit."

"Let me? Like you could stop me." But she was smiling now. "I'll think about it."

"That's not a no."

"It's not a yes either." Mila shifted through her sketches. "Some of us have actual work to do, unlike certain footballers who just kick balls for a living."

"Says the girl who spends her day telling rich people their bags are fake."

"Someone has to maintain standards." She held up a sketch to the camera. "Like these gala fits I'm working on. Your usual style choices can't be trusted for our first official appearance."

"My style choices brought you into my life, didn't they?"

"Your tragic style choices gave me content for my blog." But she was grinning. "Now they're giving me gray hairs."

Jules adjusted his position. "The internet thinks you're my personal stylist now."

"The internet thinks I'm everything from an heiress to a spy." She started pinning fabric samples to her sketches. "Your ex's friends are still in my DMs by the way."

"Still?"

"Mhmm. Very interested in our weekend activities." She glanced at him through the screen. "Your ex must be devastated that you upgraded."

"Upgraded to someone who bullies me about my shoes?"

"Upgraded to someone who saves you from yourself." She paused. "Also your ex's style is basic. All Gucci everything? In 2024?"

Jules laughed, the sound doing things to her stomach. "You really have opinions about everyone's fashion choices."

"Only the bad ones." She switched cameras to show him her work table. "These are coming together though. The gala won't know what hit them."

"Bruno's going to have opinions."

"Bruno's going to deal with it. I'm not showing up in straight-off-the-rack anything." She flipped the camera back. "Plus, you like when I reconstruct pieces."

"I like when you're not roasting me."

"Lies. You live for my commentary." She caught his smile through the screen. "Your teammates confirmed it."

"My teammates need to mind their business too." He ran a hand through his locs. "Though if you came to the match, you could tell them yourself."

"Smooth transition back to that topic."

"I'm persistent." His eyes caught hers through the screen. "Come watch me play. I'll score for you."

"Bold promise for someone who plays defense."

"You've been studying football?"

"I've been studying you." The words slipped out before she could catch them.

The silence held for a beat too long, charged with something neither of them was ready to name.

"More market research for your role?" His voice was lower now.

"Method acting. Very serious about my craft." She threw his words back at him.

Another silence, heavy with possibilities they weren't supposed to be considering.

"Your ex is really getting on my nerves though," she said finally, breaking whatever moment was building.

"You're obsessed with my ex."

"Your ex is obsessed with me. I'm just taking notes." She shifted some fabric around. "Did she always watch this many stories?"

"Never dated anyone who posted enough to find out."

"So I'm special?"

"You're something." His smile was soft now. Different from his Instagram version.

Mila's phone buzzed with another notification. Probably Bruno with more gala details. Or another gossip blog with theories about their relationship. Or Philippe with more concerns about professionalism.

"You should sleep," she said, noting the darkening sky in Barcelona. "Early training tomorrow."

"You should say yes to the match."

"You should stop pushing your luck."

"Never." He adjusted his position again, all casual grace. "Think about it though? For real?"

"Go to sleep, Jules."

"That's still not a no."

She ended the call before he could see her smile. Her phone immediately lit up with a text from him: "sweet dreams, fake girlfriend 😘"

"don't make me block you," she sent back.

"you'd miss my tragic style choices."

She looked at her sketches for their gala outfits, then at the pile of notifications about the upcoming match. This fake relationship was getting dangerously comfortable.

Her phone buzzed one more time: "also I'm wearing those Balenciagas you hate tomorrow just to spite you"

Maybe comfortable wasn't the right word.

Mila ignored how her cheeks hurt from smiling too much. Her phone kept lighting up with his texts, each one more deliberately annoying than the last. She'd created a monster with all this fashion commentary.

The Barcelona charity gala proved exactly why she was right about their outfits. Her reconstructed LV pieces turned heads the moment they walked in - Jules in a sleek black suit with monogram details that only showed when he moved, her in a dress that made Vogue write a whole article about "the future of luxury reconstruction." The venue was stunning, all high ceilings and modern art, filled with football royalty trying their best at black tie fashion.

Bruno nearly had an aneurysm when they first arrived, but even he had to admit they'd stolen the show. Jules kept his hand on her lower back all night, leaning in to whisper commentary about his teammates' attempts at formal wear. They played their roles perfectly - the fashion-forward power couple, the defender and his brutally honest stylist. Every fashion house in attendance had someone slip her a business card. By the end of the night, no one remembered it was supposed to be fake.

Which is probably how she ended up here the very next day, at the Camp Nou, wearing a vintage Barcelona jersey Jules had "casually" sent her along with a limited edition LV bag she definitely wasn't supposed to have access to yet. She'd paired it with an LV skort and burgundy leather trench, because if she had to do team colors, she'd do them her way. The bag was just gilding the lily, but it worked. Of course it worked.

The stadium was massive, nothing like watching matches on TV. Her seat was in the VIP section, surrounded by other WAGs who definitely hadn't expected Louis Vuitton's meanest stylist to show up in team merch and thigh-high boots. But Jules had texted her that morning: "wear the jersey. it'll drive everyone crazy."

He wasn't wrong.

The WAG section was full of whispers and not-so-subtle photos of her outfit. Jules hadn't seen her yet - they were warming up on the pitch, all focus and match-day energy.

The match kicked off and suddenly Mila understood why people lost their minds over this sport. On TV, she could barely track Jules. Here, she couldn't take her eyes off him. The way he read the game, anticipated plays, and moved with precision reminded her of the careful way she arranged his closet after reorganizing it.

Young Boys scored first - some lucky break that had the crowd holding its breath. But then Barcelona's attack kicked in, and suddenly it was raining goals. 5-2 didn't even tell the whole story. Jules had been everywhere, breaking up plays, starting counterattacks.

"Your boy's having a game," some WAG next to her said after Jules made a particularly clean tackle. Mila just smiled, and then noticed that his socks were slightly different lengths.

The final whistle brought chaos - good chaos, victory chaos. The kind that had everyone in the VIP section heading for the family area, designer bags swinging. Mila followed the crowd, her new LV bag probably the only one that wasn't actually out yet.

She spotted him before he saw her. Fresh from the showers, locs still damp, wearing the team's post-match tracksuit that somehow didn't look tragic on him. He was talking to someone with a camera - probably post-match interviews.

Then he caught sight of her.

The way his face lit up wasn't for the cameras. Neither was the way he broke off mid-sentence to walk toward her, but the way he pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her cheek? That was definitely for show.

Except his lips lingered a beat too long, and his hand on her waist felt a little too natural, and maybe some of this wasn't entirely for the cameras anymore.

"You came," he murmured against her ear.

"You bribed me with unreleased merchandise." She kept her smile camera-ready. "Very unethical of you."

"Says the girl wearing my jersey."

"Your vintage jersey. There's a difference."

His laugh was genuine, even if their pose was practiced. Cameras clicked around them, probably catching what looked like an intimate moment between Barcelona's star defender and his fashion-forward girlfriend.

"The socks were uneven," she told him, just to maintain their dynamic.

"You actually watched my feet?"

"Of course I did."

He pulled back just enough to look at her, that smile that wasn't for Instagram making her stomach do things it definitely shouldn't. "Dinner? Team's celebrating but we could—"

"Go with your team." She adjusted his hoodie, knowing the cameras would eat it up. "I have an early flight anyway."

"Stay." His voice was low, just for her. "I'll make it worth your while."

"Another bag?"

"Better." His grin was dangerous. "I'll let you plan my outfits for the week."

She laughed despite herself. "Tempting, but I have a job to get back to."

More players were filing into the family area now, some with kids, others with WAGs who definitely noticed Mila's not-yet-released bag. Jules kept his hand on her waist, thumb tracing small circles that the cameras couldn't see.

"You're coming to the next one, right?" he asked as they posed for another photo.

"Don't push your luck."

But they both knew she would. Just like they both knew this was slowly starting to feel less and less fake with every camera flash, every casual touch, every smile that wasn't quite acting anymore.

"Your car's here," he said, checking his phone. "I had Bruno arrange it."

"Always taking care of your fake girlfriend."

"Only the best for Louis Vuitton's meanest stylist."

She reached up to fix his hair, a gesture that looked intimate to observers but was really just her being annoyed at how it was falling. "Go celebrate with your team. Try not to let them dress you for the club."

"You could come make sure they don't."

"Goodnight, Jules."

His kiss on her cheek this time wasn't for the cameras at all. "Text me when you land?"

She waved him off, already planning what she'd say about his uneven socks in their next FaceTime call. The cameras followed her exit, catching what probably looked like a perfect football couple moment.

Her phone buzzed before she even reached the car: "the socks were uneven on purpose. knew you'd notice."

She smiled despite herself. This fake relationship was slowly getting dangerous.

****************************

Mila's post from the match had over 100K likes by the time she got to work the next morning. The comments were a mess: "THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER 😭" "notice how she styled the jersey tho? queen behavior" "that bag isn't even out yet omg the power" "they're actually perfect???"

Jules hadn't helped, reposting her story at the stadium with "merci d'être venue, chérie 🖤❤️" Like he hadn't basically bribed her with that unreleased bag. His teammates had jumped in too, commenting about how he couldn't stop smiling at training.

"Your match photos are trending," Philippe said instead of good morning. "Corporate wants to discuss your social media strategy."

"Corporate loves my social media strategy." She hung her trench on her office door. "The waiting list for my section is three months long now."

Her phone buzzed - Jules had posted a picture from the gala. She looked good, obviously, but it was the way he was looking at her in the photo that had her mentions exploding. The internet was having a field day analyzing their "couple style."

Another text from Jules: "bruno says we're doing too well. wants us to have a public fight to seem more realistic."

LV's Meanest Stylist: your sock choices are horrible.

Jules (Da Boo): that's not the kind of fight he meant

She bit back a smile. Her coworkers were already too invested in their "relationship" - no need to feed the gossip by grinning at her phone all day.

The store was chaos. After her appearance at the Barcelona match, suddenly everyone wanted Mila's opinion on everything. Three influencers tried to book private shopping sessions. Two footballers' wives came in specifically asking for "something like what Jules' girlfriend wears."

"Miss Lawrence, your two o'clock is here," her assistant called out. She'd never had an assistant before the McDonald's photo and now apparently she was hired a couple days ago.

Jules texted between her appointments: "training done. thinking about that kiss" LV's Meanest Stylist: it was on the cheek Jules (Da Boo): still thinking about it

She didn't have time to analyze that. A Saudi princess wanted her entire collection reconstructed. Two fashion houses had left messages about collaboration opportunities. Her phone wouldn't stop buzzing with notifications about her latest photos with Jules.

"hungry? we can facetime..." his text came through around four.

LV's Meanest Stylist: too busy. some of us work for a living. Jules (Da Boo): kicking balls is work 😤 LV's Meanest Stylist: sure it is, babe.

By closing, she was dead on her feet. The rain had started, turning Paris into a blur of lights and wet streets. She dug her umbrella out of her bag, checking her notifications one last time before heading towards the Metro.

That's when she saw it. A DM notification from Siobhan. Jules' ex.

What the fuck is this?

The Metro was packed with the usual post-work crowd, everyone dripping from the rain. Mila tapped her card at the turnstile, eyes fixed on her screen. After two weeks of watching her stories, viewing her posts, having her friends fish for information, Siobhan had finally made a direct move.

The message sat there, deceptively casual: "We should talk. Girl to girl."

Mila's thumb hovered over it as she descended to the platform. She'd seen enough photos of Siobhan to get why people made the comparisons - they had similar features, both brown-skinned beauties with good style, though Siobhan's aesthetic leaned more luxury influencer than fashion critic. The kind of girl who watched her ex's new girlfriend's every move.

Like the fucking weirdo she was...

Her phone buzzed with a text from Jules: "you've gone quiet. tired from all that actual work? 😏"

The unread DM from Siobhan sat there like a challenge. There were a hundred ways this could go wrong. A hundred reasons to ignore it. But Mila hadn't gotten where she was by playing it safe.

She clicked on the message, marking it as read. Time to see what Jules' ex really wanted.

Mila leaned against a pillar on the platform, watching her train's arrival time tick down. No point rushing to respond. Let Jules' ex sit with that read receipt for a minute.

Three dots appeared. Another message: "I know you saw this."

"did you need something?" Mila typed back, channeling her best 'dealing with difficult customers' energy.

@/siobhan_rchm: Just wanted to chat about Jules. Girl to girl.

"Mm." Mila grumbled, watching the dots appear and disappear for a beat before responding. "about what specifically? his uneven socks at the match? the way he organizes his sneakers? his skincare routine?"

A pause. Then: "You think you're cute."

"i know i am. was there something else?"

The train rumbled into the station. Mila stepped on, finding a spot to stand near the door. Her phone buzzed again.

@/siobhan_rchm: Just wanted to warn you about him.

"warn me that he has terrible taste in exes? already figured that out."

More angry dots. Mila smiled to herself. She could do this all day.

@/siobhan_rchm: You don't know him like I do."

"you're right. I actually let him dress himself occasionally."

The train lurched between stations. Siobhan was typing again.

@/siobhan_rchm: He's not as perfect as you think.

"never said he was perfect. his sock choices prove that."

@/siobhan_rchm: I'm trying to be serious.

"and I'm trying to commute. is there a point to this?"

Three dots. Delete. Three dots again. Mila switched to her chat with Jules: "your ex is sliding into my DMs"

His response was instant: "siobhan??"

"unless you have another ex I should know about?"

Back to Siobhan's message: "You think this is all a game but he'll do the same thing to you. Get bored. Move on."

"like posting thirst traps and watching my stories obsessively? that kind of bored?"

@/siobhan_rchm: You don't know what you're talking about.

"and you don't know when to move on. sad either way."

@/siobhan_rchm: Just remember I warned you. When he—"

Mila hit the block button before reading the rest. Some entertainment wasn't worth the effort.

Jules (Da Boo): what's she saying?

LV's Meanest Stylist: nothing worth repeating. your taste before me was questionable.

Jules (Da Boo): says the girl who dragged my sock choices at the match 😒

LV's Meanest Stylist: someone had to. even siobhan agreed about the socks

Jules (Da Boo): you did NOT talk about my socks with my ex

LV's Meanest Stylist: what can I say? it's the only thing we have in common.

The train ride felt longer than usual, Mila's mind stuck on Siobhan's messages. The night crowd was starting to fill the Metro - tourists heading to dinner, students with their backpacks, the usual mix of Paris after dark. She got off at her stop, umbrella ready for the rain that was still coming down.

The walk from the station to her building was quick but just long enough to get properly soaked despite the umbrella. Water dripped from the edges of her trench as she dug out her keys. At least her new LV bag was water resistant - perks of having the unreleased collection.

"I'm sorry about her," Jules texted as Mila climbed the stairs to her apartment. "Let me make it up to you?"

LV's Meanest Stylist: with another unreleased bag?

Jules (Da Boo): better. dinner in barcelona this weekend?

Mila paused on the second floor landing. "you want me to fly out for dinner?"

Jules (Da Boo): i know this place you'd love. very exclusive, very—

LV's Meanest Stylist: very in Barcelona when you could just come to Paris.

Jules (Da Boo): I have training...

LV's Meanest Stylist: and I have a job. a real one. none of that kick the ball bs.

Jules (Da Boo): next weekend then? I'll book Le Jules Verne.

LV's Meanest Stylist: now you're just showing off.

Jules (Da Boo): is it working?

She pushed open her apartment door, dropping her umbrella in the stand. "maybe. but you're still coming to Paris."

Jules (Da Boo): high maintenance.

LV's Meanest Stylist: you knew that when you fake chose me.

A pause, then: "about that..."

Her phone lit up with Jules' incoming call. Not a text this time. That was different.

"Calling to apologize properly?" she answered, kicking off her shoes.

"About what Siobhan said—"

"Already forgotten. Like I just did with her on Instagram."

"You blocked her?"

"Should've done it two weeks ago when she first started creeping." Mila dropped onto her couch. "Why? Want me to unblock your ex?"

"No," he said quickly. "No, it's just... look, about this whole fake thing—"

"Don't tell me you're catching feelings," she kept her voice light, teasing. "All it took was one match attendance?"

But Jules was quiet for a moment too long. The kind of quiet that made her stomach do things it shouldn't.

"Nah..." He scoffed, but something in his voice wasn't quite right. "Never that."

"Good. Wouldn't want this arrangement getting messy."

"Please. I have standards."

"You have those ugly ass Balenciaga crocs."

"We agreed never to speak of those again." The weird tension dissipated, back to their usual rhythm. "So about Paris next weekend..."

"You're really trying to get out of coming here, huh?"

"I just think Barcelona has better restaurants."

"Barcelona has you wrapped around Bruno's PR finger."

His laugh echoed through the phone. "You're actually impossible."

"Part of my charm."

"Besides," Jules said after a moment, "if I come to Paris, you'll make me carry your shopping bags again."

"That's literally what fake boyfriends are for."

"Thought it was for the Instagram engagement."

"That too." She kicked off her heels, settling deeper into her couch. "Though your ex might have opinions about that."

"Can we not talk about Siobhan?"

"Why? Worried she'll tell me all your secrets?"

"You already know all my secrets. You reorganized my closet."

"True. The real skeleton was that sneaker collection and those goddamn socks."

He made a noise of protest. "You're really never going to let that go?"

"Never."

"The socks were a choice."

"A bad one." She paused, then: "Like dating Siobhan?"

"Low blow."

"Someone had to say it."

Another silence, but different this time. She could almost see him running his hand through his locs, the way he did when he was thinking too hard.

"You really blocked her?" he asked finally.

"Should I not have?"

"No, it's... good. It's good."

More weight in those words than there should have been. This conversation was veering too close to something neither of them was ready to name.

"You really have these girls losing their minds," Mila said. "Between Siobhan and your fan pages..."

"Too much BDE. They can't handle it."

She rolled her eyes so hard it probably translated through the phone. "It's not that big," she muttered, mostly to herself.

But of course he caught it. "You can always find out."

"Never."

"Never say never." His voice was all smugness and suggestion.

Mila ignored the way her stomach flipped at his tone. This was exactly the kind of territory they didn't need to explore. Even if his voice was doing things to her that it absolutely shouldn't.

"I'll make a reservation for our dinner next weekend." Back to that practiced confidence.

"Whatever. Bye." She hung up before he could say anything else dangerous.

Her phone lit up immediately with his text: "bonne nuit, chérie ❤️"

She stared at that heart emoji longer than she'd ever admit to anyone.

A week later, Mila's Uber pulled up to the Eiffel Tower. She'd gone with a Dior slip dress because why not, paired with Aquazzura white slingbacks and a beige trench. The kind of outfit that said 'yes, I'm dating a footballer, but I dressed like this before him.'

Le Jules Verne was exactly what you'd expect from a Michelin-starred restaurant in the Eiffel Tower - all understated luxury and views that made even Paris locals pause. The kind of place where no one cared who you were because everyone was someone.

Jules was already at their table, standing as she approached. The bouquet in his hands was ridiculous - white roses and peonies, probably cost more than the dinner would.

"Ah, you shouldn't have," she said, accepting his hug.

"What kind of fake boyfriend would I be?" he murmured against her ear.

"But you really shouldn't have." She pulled back, taking off her trench coat. "They're gonna die in like two days. I have a brown thumb."

Jules pulled out her chair - unnecessarily gallant for a fake date. "You look nice."

"Just nice?" Mila arranged her dress. "You flew to Paris for 'nice'?"

"Beautiful. Stunning. Better?"

"Now you're trying too hard." But she was smiling. "Speaking of trying too hard, that fit is actually decent. Did you dress yourself?"

"Funny." He settled across from her. "But no. Someone reorganized my closet with very specific instructions."

The sommelier appeared with champagne they hadn't ordered. "Compliments of the house."

"The perks of dating a footballer." Mila raised her glass. "Even if it's fake."

"About that…" Jules started, but their server arrived with menus and a long explanation about the night's specials.

"The chef has prepared something special," the server finished.

"Of course he has." Mila caught Jules' eye over her glass. "More perks?"

"Bruno's influence, actually. He has opinions about our first Paris date."

"Opinions about everything except your sock choices."

"Are you ever going to let that go?"

"Never." She studied the menu. "Like I'll never let go of those Balenciaga crocs."

"I told Siobhan to leave us alone," Jules said between sips of champagne. "Well, technically I told her to leave you alone."

Mila shook her head, more intrigued than annoyed. "Your dick must cure diseases."

Jules choked on his champagne, actually coughed.

"You keep talking about my dick like you want to try it." He settled back in his chair, legs spreading, all casual like he'd practiced this move. "Just say the word and we can—"

"I'm gonna stop you there, buddy." She held up her hand. "I'm just saying these girls are acting like your dick cures diseases, is all. No one is thinking about taking a ride on that thing." She said 'thing' like it personally offended her.

Jules just watched her, that smile that said he saw right through her act. "Mmhm."

Their waiter appeared once more, ready to take their order, saving them both from whatever was about to happen next.

"The lamb," Jules told the waiter. "And she'll have—"

"I can order for myself," Mila cut in. "The fish, please."

The waiter disappeared with their menus and Jules' amused smirk. The restaurant buzzed around them, that particular energy of expensive meals and important conversations.

"So," Mila swirled her champagne. "How's training?"

"How's telling rich people how to dress?"

"Deflecting already? Did Siobhan shake you that bad?"

Jules leaned back in his chair. "Just looking out for my fake girlfriend."

"By making your ex block me on everything?" She raised an eyebrow. "I saw her Instagram's gone private too."

"Had to maintain our image."

"Our image needs that much maintenance?"

"Bruno's words, not mine." He took another sip of champagne. "Though the flowers were my idea."

"Ah yes, the dying flowers. Very thoughtful."

The first course arrived - something fancy with foam. Jules watched her taste it, that same look he had when she'd criticized his sneaker collection.

"You're staring."

"You have…" He gestured to her lip.

She wiped at nothing, knowing he was just messing with her. "Very mature." Mila sampled more of whatever was on her plate. "This is actually good."

"Better than McDonald's at two in the morning?"

"Nothing's better than that." She caught his smile. "Though this view comes close."

"Paris showing off for us."

"For you, maybe. I live here."

"And yet you've never been to Jules Verne before."

"Some of us don't make footballer money." She set down her fork. "Speaking of money, how much did you have to pay Siobhan to back off?"

"Just my eternal soul and first-born child."

"Reasonable price."

The main course appeared - her fish arranged like art, his lamb perfectly cooked. The waiter poured wine that definitely wasn't on the regular menu.

"Bruno's going to love the bill from this," Mila noted.

"Worth it for the content." Jules cut into his lamb. "Though we could give him better content."

"If you're about to suggest something inappropriate—"

"Just saying, the whole 'will they, won't they' thing is working for our engagement numbers."

Mila pointed her fork at him. "No one is engaging with your numbers."

"That's not what you said about my BDE earlier."

"I take it back. All of it." But she was fighting a smile. "Your ego needs no encouragement."

"Too late." He was doing that thing with his eyes again, the one that probably worked on everyone else. "You're already on record about my—"

"If you say dick energy one more time at this nice establishment, I'm leaving."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

Their eyes locked across the table. A challenge, maybe. Or something else neither of them was ready to name.

The waiter appeared with dessert menus, breaking whatever moment was building. Jules took his with a smile that was almost too casual.

"Should we share?" he asked.

"In your dreams."

"Often."

Mila kicked him under the table, right as the waiter returned. "He'll have the chocolate thing. I want the one with strawberries."

"Separate desserts?" The waiter looked between them. "Most couples share—"

"We're not most couples." Mila's smile was sweet but final.

Jules watched the waiter leave, that smirk back on his face. "No, we're definitely not."

The desserts arrived looking more like art installations than food. Mila caught Jules' eyes drifting to her neckline again - the third time since their main course.

"Stare harder why don't you?"

"I'm trying." He didn't even pretend to look away.

"Horndog." But she adjusted the strap of her dress anyway, watching his eyes track the movement.

"Can't help it. The dress is…"

"Expensive? Designer?"

"Both." He sampled his chocolate dessert, still watching her. "Though I was going to say dangerous."

"Please. This is modest for me." She tasted her strawberry creation. "You should see what I wear when I'm actually trying."

"Is that an invitation?"

"It's a warning." She pointed her spoon at him. "Your game's weak if you think this neckline is dangerous."

"My game's never weak."

"But you needed a McDonald's photo to go viral before making a move."

"I didn't make a move." He leaned back, all casual confidence again. "Bruno did."

"Tragic." She stole a bite of his dessert just to prove she could. "Using your agent as an excuse."

"Using my agent for business." His eyes dropped to her lips as she licked chocolate from her spoon. "This is pleasure."

"This is a fake date."

"With real dessert." He pushed his plate closer to her. "Want more?"

"Trying to sweeten me up?"

"Is it working?"

She took another bite of his dessert, maintaining eye contact just to watch him squirm. "You wish."

The waiter appeared with their bill - or rather, with no bill at all because apparently Jules had handled that hours ago. Of course he had.

"Very presumptuous," Mila noted as they stood. "What if I hated dinner?"

"You loved it." He helped her with her coat, fingers brushing her bare shoulders. "Even if you won't admit it."

"I admit nothing."

"Your empty plates admit plenty."

Outside, Paris was still showing off - all lights and early autumn beauty. Jules' hand found her lower back as they waited for their cars.

"This was nice," he said, too close to her ear.

"Just nice?"

"Beautiful. Stunning. Better?"

"Now you're recycling lines." But she didn't move away.

His car arrived first - some sleek thing that probably cost more than her annual salary. He opened the door but paused before getting in.

"Next time dinner's in Barcelona."

"Next time?"

"Can't let my fake girlfriend think I'm cheap."

"Too late for that. Your sock choices gave you away."

His laugh echoed even after his car pulled away. Her phone lit up immediately with his text:

Jules (Da Boo): already planning your outfit for barcelona?

LV's Meanest Stylist: planning how to roast whatever you wear.

Jules (Da Boo): worth it

********************************************

"The cheek kisses aren't cutting it anymore," Bruno's voice crackled through Mila's phone. "We need to up the ante."

"Up the ante?" Mila was packing for Barcelona, phone balanced between ear and shoulder. "What exactly do you want us to do, stick our tongues down each other's throats?"

"If that's what it takes—"

"The audacity." She dropped a reconstructed LV piece into her suitcase. "Who are you, our relationship choreographer?"

"The internet's getting restless. They want more."

"The internet needs therapy." But she knew what he meant. The comments were getting wild - theories about their relationship, demands for more content, the kind of attention that made her DMs look like a thirst trap comment section.

Three days later, she was walking through Barcelona's airport arrivals, spotting Jules before he saw her. He was trying to be incognito in a baseball cap and sunglasses, looking exactly like every footballer trying not to be recognized.

"Subtle," she said, reaching him.

"Says the girl in that dress." His eyes tracked over her travel fit - another slip dress because why not torture him a little.

"This old thing?" She let him take her bag. "Just something I threw on."

The Urus was parked illegally because of course it was. Jules loaded her suitcase while she settled into the passenger seat, already plotting how to reorganize his closet again.

"How was the flight?"

"Better than this car choice."

"Still judging my Urus?"

"Always." She pulled out her phone. "Though apparently I need new material. Bruno's orders."

"Heard about that call." He navigated through Barcelona traffic with one hand on the wheel. "No more roasting my fashion choices?"

"Or your ex."

"Tragic. Those were your best bits."

"Please. Everything I do is a best bit."

His laugh filled the car. Match 100 was tomorrow, and here they were, playing house again. At least this time she knew what she was getting into.

"So about Bruno's demands," Jules said, turning onto his street. "Think we should practice?"

"Practice what? Swapping spit for the cameras?" Mila fake gagged, but her heart wasn't in it.

"Could be worse assignments."

"Could be better ones too."

"You wound me." He pulled into his driveway. "Little birdie told me that Chanel's trying to steal you."

She rolled her eyes. "Sure is, and LV can suck my dick and jiggle my left testicle."

Jules let out a chuckle. "Damn, remind me to never get on your bad side. What happened at work?" She just stared at him blankly. "Philippe again?" His jaw tightened. "Should I give him a visit?"

"And do what exactly?"

Jules shrugged, but his grip on the steering wheel said otherwise. "I don't know. Tell him to leave my woman alone. Threaten him?"

"Whatever, Jules."

"I'm serious."

"Be so fucking for real right now."

"I'm so serious, Mila. He got the wrong one." His knuckles went white on the wheel.

Mila caught herself watching those hands, that tension in his jaw. Something about his willingness to protect her - fake relationship or not - was doing things to her pussy she refused to acknowledge.

The opportunities were piling up lately. Fashion houses sliding into her DMs. Offers to branch out on her own. She could do it - build her own brand, be an independent designer like she'd dreamed. Or worse… become an influencer. The thought alone made her want to gag. Though being a freelance stylist had potential.

"Mila." Jules was watching her, that look that saw too much. "You good?"

"Just plotting my escape from corporate hell."

"To Chanel?"

"Maybe." She stretched, knowing exactly what that did to her dress. "Or maybe I'll just become your full-time fake girlfriend. Seems less stressful."

*************************

"Your closet better be exactly how I left it," Mila said as they entered his house. "I'm not doing another intervention with your sneakers."

"Haven't touched anything." Jules carried her bag upstairs. "Too scared of your wrath."

"Smart man." She followed him to the guest room - her room now, basically. Her reconstructed pieces from last time still hung in the closet. "Though we need to talk about that jacket you wore to training yesterday."

"Thought you needed new material?"

"Some crimes can't be ignored."

He dropped her bag by the bed, lingering in the doorway. "Hungry?"

"Depends. Are you cooking?"

"God no. Ordered from that place you liked last time."

"The one with the pasta?"

"The one where you stole half my dinner, yes."

She kicked off her shoes, making herself at home. "It's not stealing if you let me."

"Is that what we're calling it?"

"That's what I'm calling it." She started unpacking, aware of him watching. "Don't you have a big match to rest for?"

"Don't you have a closet to reorganize?"

"Your closet can wait until tomorrow." She pulled out her outfit for the match. "This, however, needs steaming."

"Another reconstruction?"

"What else would I wear to your hundredth match?" She held up the piece - another LV remix that would probably give Philippe an aneurysm. "Think Bruno will approve?"

"Bruno would approve if you wore a trash bag at this point." Jules pushed off the doorframe. "He's desperate for content."

"Hence the kissing demands?"

"Hence everything." He watched her hang up the outfit. "Though the kissing thing…"

"Don't."

"Just saying, might need practice."

"In your dreams."

"Often." He ducked the shoe she threw at him. "Dinner's in twenty."

She waited until his footsteps faded before pulling out her phone. Three texts from Siobhan's friends, still trying to get intel. Two emails from Chanel about possible collaborations.

A new text from Jules: "brought you wine from that vineyard you pretended not to like"

Interesting...

Mila came downstairs to H.E.R. playing softly in the background. Jules was at the kitchen island, uncorking wine like this was totally normal.

"Are you trying to get at something?" She took in the dim lighting, the music, the actual fucking candles. What was this man up to?

"Just trying to relax," he said simply, holding out a glass of wine.

"Mmhm." She accepted the glass, watching him plate their food with way too much care before sliding it in front of her.

"Bonne appétit." He settled next to her at the island.

They ate in silence for a few beats before Mila couldn't take it anymore. "Seriously, what're you doing Jules?"

He had the nerve to shrug. "I told you I'm just trying to relax. Big match tomorrow, remember?"

"You're giving out too much game right now. You think I'm dumb?"

"No, Mila, you're far from dumb."

"So what's the play?" She set her napkin down, fixing him with that look she usually reserved for customers trying to play in her face. "What's going on because since when do we have this setup if we're fake—"

Her words cut off as Jules leaned over, pressing his lips to hers. He tasted like eggplant parmesan and wine, and despite herself, she sighed into it. His hands came up to cup her face, lips moving against hers with a precision that shouldn't have surprised her but did. Boy knew what he was doing with that mouth - the same confidence he had on the pitch but softer, more deliberate.

When he pulled back, Mila's brain took a second to come back online.

"What the hell?" she mumbled.

"Practice, right?" His voice was too casual for someone who just kissed her like that.

She blinked, tilting her head. "Bruno wanted us to have more PDA…"

"Oh, yeah." His thumb brushed her cheek where his hand still lingered.

"Was it good?"

Was it? Her mind screamed. But what came out was: "It was alright."

"Alright? Shit, Mila maybe I have to convince you again."

"Please don't." But her eyes dropped to his lips.

"Just a quick one." He leaned closer. "For research."

"No." She didn't move away.

"It's quick…" His mouth was already brushing hers. "For research."

This kiss wasn't quick at all. His hand slid into her hair, angling her head just right. She might have made a sound - something embarrassing she'd deny later - when his tongue traced her bottom lip. This wasn't practice anymore. This wasn't fake anything.

When they finally broke apart, the food was definitely cold.

******************************************

The absolute audacity of this man.

Mila spent the entire match trying not to think about that kiss. Those kisses. Multiple kisses that definitely weren't just "practice." She'd even texted Leon - her most reliable situation-handler - but he was "busy." All her usual distractions were unavailable, leaving her stuck with the memory of Jules' mouth and what his hands had felt like in her hair.

Barcelona was destroying Sevilla, which wasn't helping. Every time Jules made a play, the crowd lost it. Five goals, and he'd been involved in three of them. Show-off.

Then came the post-match ceremony. His hundredth game plaque, the crowd chanting his name, cameras everywhere. And this man - this absolute menace - had the nerve to call her down to the pitch.

"Come here, chérie," he said into the mic, and what was she supposed to do? Say no in front of 90,000 people?

She made her way down, reconstructed LV dress definitely not made for stadium stairs. The cameras were already going crazy, probably catching her "supportive girlfriend" moment.

Then this fucker kissed her. Not a peck, not a casual press of lips. A proper kiss, right there on the pitch, his plaque in one hand while the other pulled her close. The crowd absolutely lost it.

When he finally let her go, she was too disoriented to even pretend to be mad. The cameras caught everything - her slightly dazed expression, his satisfied smirk, the way she had to steady herself on his arm.

"For the cameras," he murmured in her ear as they posed with his plaque.

"I hate you," she whispered back, perfect smile in place.

"No you don't."

The worst part? He was right.

Her phone was already blowing up. The notifications would be insane - fashion blogs, football accounts, probably Bruno having a meltdown about their "organic PDA moment." But all she could think about was how she needed to call every single one of her rotation guys because this tension? Unacceptable.

"Dinner?" Jules asked as they left the pitch, still riding his match high.

"I have plans."

"No you don't."

"I could have plans."

His smile was dangerous. "But you don't."

The cameras were still catching everything - her pretend annoyance, his hand on her lower back, the way they moved together like this wasn't all for show.

"One dinner," he said.

"You already got your kiss for the cameras."

"Maybe I want another one."

She really needed to call Leon. Or Jean. Or both.

The family area was chaos. Mila scrolled through Twitter while waiting for Jules, watching their kiss go viral in real time.

"THE WAY SHE HAD TO STEADY HERSELF 😭" "that man must kiss like he plays football - elite" "did y'all see her face after??? HELLO???" "mila lawrence found SHOOK" "the way he just grabbed her like that i'm—"

Someone had already made an edit set to "Kiss Me More" - her dazed expression on loop, Jules looking too pleased with himself. The engagement numbers were insane. Bruno was probably having heart palpitations of joy.

More tweets kept coming: "jules koundé said watch me score off the pitch too" "miss mila really won" "the grip he has on her waist i'm studying it respectfully"

Her phone buzzed with texts from every single one of her situationship guys.

"You're trending," Jules' voice came from behind her. Fresh from the shower, hair still damp, wearing that post-match designer fit that actually worked for once. "Something about being 'dicked down by Barcelona's finest defender'?"

"That's disgusting." She kept scrolling. "Also inaccurate."

"Could be accurate."

"In your dreams."

"Maybe it can be reality?" He leaned over her shoulder, reading more tweets. "They're really analyzing your face in 4K."

"Your fans are unhinged."

"Our fans now."

Their eyes met in the reflection of her phone screen. That tension from last night was still there, crackling between them like static electricity.

"Dinner?" he asked again.

"I really do have plans."

"With who? Leon?" His smile was knowing. "Already saw his stories. He's in London."

"I have other options." Like Jean, like Gabriel, like Muhammad...

"But you're here with me and you're gonna stay."

The worst part was he was right. Again. Motherfucker.

"Fine." She locked her phone, ignoring another wave of notifications. "But no more surprise kisses."

"No promises."

Bruno was going to lose his mind over their engagement numbers. Their fake relationship was trending worldwide. The internet was already writing their love story.

But watching Jules guide her through the stadium with that hand on her lower back, Mila had to wonder how much of this was still fake.

............tbd

[doberbutts]

Hey man, I really appreciate you sharing your perspective about being a man, being Black, and being told whether you're allowed to speak or not. It's interesting to me as a white transmasc to see how our experiences differ and I like learning and being aware of how others are treated, often unfairly, because of it, especially since I don't want to further that treatment. It is genuinely appreciated to hear about.

I think a lot of people get caught up in categorizing people into easy-to-digest groups, and while it's useful sometimes when discussing how certain demographics are treated or can treat others, it's also often used to stereotype individuals based on something they have no choice in being. And when it comes to intersecting identities, race, gender, etc, there's no way people actually think a Black man is treated as a man the way a white man is, let alone a trans man who can have his identity disregarded by any bigot when convenient.

I'm just surprised how many people wrongly took your posts to mean "men should always be allowed to speak about other people's experiences" and then promptly admit to speaking all over your experiences as a trans and Black person anyway. Of course there are times to listen instead, nobody said there wasn't. But sometimes listening involves being uncomfortable and it would do some people well to think about why it makes them uncomfortable before arguing against it.

I apprecaite the kind words!

Unfortunately white discomfort with black truth is a common enough phenomenon that I neither let it impact my writings nor do I give a shit if me speaking my truth has made a white person uncomfortable. Is it a hard pill to swallow that I'm taking white people to task for forgetting that I was raised as a black girl before beginning adulthood as a black man and I'm not willing to forgive them for the racism they showed to me then or even now? Good. Choke. Squirm. Because you're (they're) still going to hear what I have to say.

But it is quite interesting to me that this blog is mostly just about my experiences and people find ways to twist themselves into knots to be angry that I'm talking about something that happened directly to me.

I will not sit down and shut up because I have had enough people tell me to do that when I was a girl and because I'm black and I sure as shit am not going to tolerate it as an adult. Don't like it? Unfollow button's at the top, buhbye!

[acidakerizo-47]

omg FINALLY this is my (and my son's) AU idea with development of the relationships between these characters

it's totally ZADR AU I know but I don't think that I'm doing smth gross like TOOOOO many antis people loves to think like "eww this is a proship" "don't ship THE CHILDREN" "Zim has no reproductive organs and he is 160+ y.o." "they're enemies your AU braking canon" and other boring nonsense...

I mean I tried to make my idea of Zim and Dib's relationship from enemies to lovers in the healthiest form? idk but if you feeling uncomfortable from this fact PLEASE don’t read this post, unfollow me and forget about my existence to make your life easier for you, take care of your mental health.

well, now i can start.

first stage of their relationship in this AU — mostly from nobody to friends (their feud ended according to Dib since he became disappointed with people and his father who forgot about Florpus) with slight romantic interest due to puberty from 13 to 15 y.o...

Dib believes for a long time that his sympathy for Zim is temporary and convinces himself that he is heterosexual but still there are moments of flirtation between them. Zim, in turn, considers Dib to be his closest person and most beloved but doesn't understand what romantic love is like many other Irkens therefore Zim reacts to Dib's flirting with embarrassment but takes note of this and learns

next level REAL romantic stuff where the feelings of both guys turned out to be mutual and they tried to have a serious romance from 16-20 y.o. and they became inseparable in most positive plan than they was in their 12 years before Florpus

still they can argue about something or deliberately piss each other off just to remember the old days when they was a children (their quarrels and attempts to anger each other most often proceed in a comic form and do not carry the goal of harming their lover. Moreover, they never use violence or manipulation against each other!!)

FINAL FORM. BOTH fathers (they have two children and they planing more xd) and already marriads of course, they doing about one job in the field of science (Dib replaces Professor Membrane, and Zim is his main assistant) and most often visit space and other planets to research and in some cases save life on them.

Dib still trying sometimes prove the paranormal although Zim doesn't interfere with his childhood dream at all and willingly maintains his interest and participates in this without endangering his disguise (likewise Dib doesn’t try to reveal Zim in the open)

I WAS TOO INSPIRED FROM OTHER ARTISTS IDEAS WITH THIS CHALLENGE OF THIS SHIP 🤩

upd. I JUST FOUND OUT WHAT IS MEANING "PET MAMES" AND I WAS TOO STUPID ON IT AND I'LL FIX IT LATER MAYBE 💀

[officialaemondtargaryen]

Fall In Love With A Girl

❝she'll make you feel like the world is on your shoulder.❞

Summary: What can go wrong, will go wrong. That is until you meet the most beautiful woman you've ever seen and her brother's puppy.

Pairing: Modern Helaena Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: ~3.3k

Author’s Note: This is a re-write of an old fic of mine. I'm in my re-writing era and this is Megan's Version. I felt like this would be the perfect time to remind everyone that I love women.

Warnings: language, fluff, women loving women (if you are against this unfollow me?)

There were certain rules to being a veterinary technician.

Number one, waterproof mascara and eyeliner always; you’ll never get used to those abuse cases or having to hold someone’s hand as they say goodbye to their beloved pet. Number two, carry a lint roller on you at all times; it’s best to get the pocket-sized one, because both dogs and cats shed a lot! Especially Bella the Saint Bernard who was due for her yearly check up today. Number three, iron your scrubs! And it’s probably best to keep an extra pair in your car, because it’s more likely than not that you’ll end up getting peed on by someone’s over-excited pup.

Even though you knew these rules by heart and you followed them every single day of your work life, today was an exception. It was just one of those days that absolutely nothing- no matter how hard you tried- was going right. You were covered in fluffy cat hairs, Mrs. Comier’s Jack Russell, Hankie, peed on your leg twice, and you had run out of waterproof mascara. So, when Mr. Langley brought in his thirteen year old Labrador to put her down, he cried and so you cried, and in the end you looked like the raccoon that liked to sneak into the office dumpsters at closing hoping to find some cat food.

Today just wasn’t your day.

It was fifteen minutes until closing time, and you could feel the excitement and exhaustion in your bones. You were desperate for rest, to go home and take a shower, crawl in bed and watch terribly written romantic comedies on Netflix until you passed out. If only you could snap your fingers and make those last few minutes fly by, but that was impossible and unfortunately manipulating time wasn’t a superpower you had acquired yet, so instead you swept and mopped the floors for the sixth time that day.

And that was when you heard it. 

The tiny bell over the door chimed, signaling that a customer had just walked in and you could hear the pitter-patter of doggie feet on the linoleum floors. As far as you knew, there weren’t any more customers scheduled for the day; the last appointment was over thirty minutes ago and they were a no-show. From your spot in the back hallway, you could hear your coworker, talking to the patient and before you knew it, she was charging through the back door. You took one look at her, knowing what her question would be before she even opened her mouth. That shit-eating-grin was always plastered on her face when she wanted something. 

“No,” you said as you swept the dirt into the dustpan.

“Come on, bestie,” she whined. “I really need to get out of here on time tonight! It’s just a simple check-up and she seems really nice! Please will you take them?” 

Not wanting to argue or cause an issue, you sighed, exhaling every ounce of oxygen in your lungs before finally giving in. She was practically beaming with excitement as your shoulders slumped, eyes rolling back as you sat the broom down. 

“Oh, my God! Thank you so much! I owe you, big time,” she went to hug you but you stepped to the side, avoiding her embrace at all costs. 

You simply nod at your coworker as you try to dust some of the cat hairs from your scrubs. It was no use, and you knew that, but still, you at least tried to look more professional. After the day you’ve had, you should have known that clocking out on time was just too good to be true, but you still put a smile on your face as you walked up to the front desk. One day you’d cash in on all of the times she owed you for, but today wasn’t that day. Everything that could have gone wrong today had already gone wrong, and at this point you were only giving in to her for the plot. What else could possibly happen? 

When you got to the front desk, you looked over the counter to see the customer on one knee as she played with the tiny puppy; rubbing its belly and tickling its sides. 

“How can I help you?” You asked with that fake customer service voice.

The young woman turned around and looked up at you, flashing one of the most brilliant smiles you had ever seen, and you could have sworn that a chorus of angels were singing in the background– or maybe it was just the classical music on the radio that your boss liked to play, who knows? She was absolutely stunning though, with her pale blonde hair and striking lavender eyes. 

“Hey, uh- I had an appointment for this little guy,” she replied with a soft smile as she moved to stand.

“Okay,” you nodded, trying to remember to breathe. You could smell her perfume as she took a step up to the counter. “What’s this little guy’s name?” 

“His name is Sunfyre.”

“Oh,” you realized that this was that no-show appointment that should have been here thirty minutes ago. It was then that you looked right past her good looks and lilac scented perfume and let the irritation settle back in. “You’re Mr. Targaryen? You had an appointment with us at 5:00.”

The woman rubbed a hand on the back of her neck and gave you a sheepish smile.

“Not Mr. Targaryen, that’s my brother. I’m Helaena,” then she lets out a sigh. “He’s out of town and forgot to mention that I needed to be here until ten minutes before I was supposed to be here and then there was traffic, and I’m really sorry that I’m late. I hope I can still get him in, I mean, if that’s okay. If it’s too late then I’ll just make another appointment, I guess”

Your eyes widened as she rambled on and then you smiled at her. If it were anyone else, you probably would have told them to make another appointment and kick rocks. But this girl was just so gorgeous and her smile was just so beautiful, and your hopes of getting home on time were already sacked, so you led her back to the exam room and told her that it was no problem.

“Hopefully this doesn’t take too long,” she mentioned as she picked Sunfyre up and sat him on the table. 

Wait, was she actually rushing you?

“I’ve got this stupid thing I’m supposed to go to tonight,” she continued as you checked the puppy’s weight.

She really was rushing you.

“It’s a blind date that Aegon, uh-”

Before she could say ‘Mr. Targaryen’, you nodded your head to let her know that you understood who she was talking about. 

“Yeah,” Helaena kept on, not really caring that you weren’t really listening. “He set it up and I’m just nervous. I’ve never really been on a date- well, I’ve been on dates, but never a blind one. With the way this day has been going, he’ll probably end up being an alien with six eyes.”

“I know how you feel,” you mumbled under your breath.

“What’s that?” She asked.

“Oh, I just agreed with you,” you replied, not really wanting to go into details about your day with a girl who was about to go on a blind date and probably fall in love with someone that wasn’t the vet tech with a piss stain on her leg. Besides, her blind date was with a man which meant your chances were pretty much shot. “About the way this day has been going.”

“You’ve had a bad day, too?”

“I’m going to let Dr. Strong know you’re ready and we’ll try to get you out of here as soon as possible,” you say, ignoring her question. 

“Oh, okay. Thanks,” she replied as you shuffled out of the exam room.

Your boss looked up at you from his desk and raised his eyebrows underneath his glasses. You said nothing and only dropped the puppy’s chart on his desk with a thud, before turning back around and heading into the back hallway. You could hear that Helaena girl sweet talking the pup from behind the door and your expression softened for a moment. But that was only until you glanced at the clock and saw that it was well past closing time, and you should’ve been walking through your front door right now; maneuvering out of your bra and kicking off your non-slip, worn out tennis shoes. Your frown came right back as you looked over the front desk, making sure everything was in order before your boss eventually called you in for an extra hand. 

You sighed as you saw that your coworker had bailed on stamping the outgoing bill statements, a job which was tedious and tiring, and usually ended in cramped hands and sticky fingertips. With a soft groan, you sat down, flexing your toes in your shoes and tried to quickly stamp as many envelopes as you could.

“Hey, kiddo,” Dr. Strong called from somewhere within the office. “Can you lend me a hand for a moment?”

You stood up and tossed the envelopes in the mailing bin before heading towards the back hallway. 

“What’s up, doc?” You asked with a forced grin as you tried to lighten the mood. Your boss, Harwin, had been under constant stress ever since his partner veterinarian, Dr. Tully, quit the practice to focus on his family. 

“Can you draw me up 1cc of Nobivac?” He asked as he scribbled something down in the chart in front of him. “And I’m going to need you in the room when I administer it, there’s a note in the little guy’s chart that says he’s not very good with shots.”

“Yes, sir,” you replied as you pulled the keys to the medical cabinet out of the front pocket of your scrubs.

Helaena smiled at you when you entered the exam room once again. The puppy in her hands jumped in your direction, tail wagging from side to side as he whined for attention. “I think he likes you,” the girl commented as she tried to hold the puppy back. 

“That’s nice,” you replied with a soft smile, not really wanting to make small talk with Ms. I-Have-A-Blind-Date-Can-You-Hurry-Up. “But he’s probably not going to like me very much after getting poked.”

“Probably not,” Helaena laughed. You couldn’t help but feel a little light-headed at the sight of her smile, despite your tough facade. The sound of her laugh was just as attractive, if not more so. “But who knows, maybe he’ll forgive you.”

Dr. Strong stepped into the room, cutting your conversation short to begin his own spiel; informing Sunfyre’s short term owner of the possible side effects of the rabies vaccine, and also why it is important to have one. Information that, hopefully, Helaena would pass on to the absent Mr. Targaryen.

While your boss prepped the puppy for his first rabies shot, your job was to try and distract the little guy as much as possible and to keep him comfortable, of course. Helaena stood off to the side, letting the two of you work your magic, and within seconds- without even so much as a yelp- the procedure was finished and Sunfyre’s tail was still wagging. 

“All done,” you cooed, placing a kiss on the puppy’s wet nose. 

“Looks like he still likes you,” Helaena said as she hooked Sunfyre’s leash back to his collar. “I had a feeling he would.”

You went to say something, but Dr. Strong got there first, sticking his hand out to Helaena for a handshake and saying, “It was nice to meet you. Please tell Mr. Targaryan that we look forward to seeing him at the next visit, which you can coordinate at the front desk.”

“Thank you,” she replied. “I’ll be sure to let him know.”

“You can follow me, this way,” you told her, ushering her and Sunfyre out of the exam room and into the lobby. “That’ll be $115,” you told her after tallying up the total sum of the visit. 

She let out a low whistle and pulled her wallet from her back pocket, “is there any way to leave a tip for your excellent customer service?”

You let out a dry laugh, and bit the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something that would get you in trouble. “While I appreciate the offer, you should probably save it for your date tonight.” 

“Date?” She asked as she signed the credit card receipt. “Shit, right, my date!” She exclaimed, thrusting the tiny piece of paper your way. “I gotta go!”

You made a face and hurriedly handed her a copy of the bill and a rabies tag for Sunfyre. 

“Good luck,” you told her as she rushed out the front door. “And you're welcome,” you said with a frown after she didn’t even say ‘thank you’. 

Happy that your day was finally over, you couldn’t help but feel like you had just been kicked in the gut. As you finished stamping the monthly statements, your mind was stuck on what Helaena and her blind date– who may or may not be an alien with six eyes– were doing right now. Was he smart? Was he making her laugh? Did he appreciate how absolutely breathtaking her smile was? Did she see him and immediately know that he was the one she had been searching for? Did time stop?

“Hey,” you heard Dr. Strong’s voice from behind you and realized that you had been standing in the same spot for minutes now, holding a stack of envelopes that you had meant to drop into the bin. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you replied as you came back to reality.

“Don’t forget you’re fostering Nugget tonight to make sure that he doesn’t pull out his stitches,” he told you before disappearing back into the hallway. 

“Ah, yes, Nugget,” you replied, mostly to yourself, as you were sure your boss was out of earshot. “The overweight Chihuahua who looks like he ate one, too many nuggets. I couldn’t be more excited.”

After you locked up and had Nugget on a leash, you said your goodbyes to your boss; happy as ever that- even though it was well after dark- you were finally going home. You picked the chunky Chihuahua up, making sure not to touch his freshly removed manhood and placed him in the backseat, where he quickly made a home. Before you even pulled your seatbelt on, you pulled your hair out of its ponytail and ran your fingers over your tender scalp. It was the first step to comfort after what you were sure was the worst days you might have ever had. You’d take your shoes off if you could,, but you were sure there was some crazy law about driving barefoot, so you left them on.

Nugget stayed quiet for most of the way, until he unexpectedly started to whine. Thinking that he might need to go potty, you pulled over into the parking lot of an ice cream parlor. He hopped out of your backseat gingerly, and led you over to the grassy area where he proceeded to squat and relieve himself. 

“Fancy meeting you here,” you heard from across the parking lot and turned to see none other than Mrs. Blind Date herself, Helaena. Just when you thought this day was starting to get better, she began walking toward you with Sunfyre in tow.

“Oh, hi,” you replied, cautiously looking around for the hot shot that would inevitably be introduced as her date. You didn’t want to ask, but curiosity got the best of you and, “how was your date?”

“Well, I was supposed to meet him here and he never showed,” she replied, looking a bit dejected. “I’m honestly not surprised at all. I mean, if you knew my brother, you probably wouldn’t be surprised either. Besides, what else should one expect from a man?” You laughed at that. “I was just about to leave, but then I saw you, and figured I’d say hello.”

You bit your lip to keep from smiling again at her rambling, unable to help yourself when you heard that there was no date, and that this extremely attractive stranger was somehow still single. “Well, hello.”

Helaena smiled brightly before taking notice of Nugget, who was shaking at the thought of being petted by someone new, and dropped down to a knee so that she could reach him. “Who’s this little chunker?”

“This is Nugget,” you replied. “I’m fostering him for the night.”

“Fitting name,” she laughed, standing back to her regular height. “So, can I buy you an ice cream? I don’t think I said thanks before I ran out of your office earlier and I’d like to make it up to you.”

“Sure,” you replied quickly before you gave yourself a chance to say no. “I mean, yeah, that would be nice.”

Helaena smiled as you fell in step with each other, making your way to the front of the booth. Sunfyre and Nugget were playing with each other; romping around and playing together; putting you and Helaena into a few awkward positions as you had to unwrap their leashes from around each other’s legs. You learned that she was an artist, mostly oil paintings and photography, who lived on the quiet side of the city with Aegon, her brother. And you told her all about your bad day, and what it was like working in a veterinary office, and some of your funny stories from college. 

Before you could even eat three bites of your ice cream, Nugget had coerced you into giving him most of it; which probably wasn’t what his actual owners intended for him to eat after his surgery. Helaena didn’t mind that the ice cream she had bought for you went to satisfying a fat Chihuahua’s sweet tooth, especially not when most of her own ice cream was being lapped up by little Sunfyre.

“Well, I should get home,” you told her after seeing the neon ‘open’ sign of the parlor shut off. “It’s getting late.” 

She nodded, standing up from the bench that you had been sitting on, “It was really nice running into you.”

“I agree,” you replied with a smile. 

“If you’d like to, maybe I can take you to dinner next?” She asked as she nervously ran a hand through her hair. You blinked a few times, wondering if you had heard her correctly or if it was your mind playing tricks on you. “You don’t have to.”

“I’d like to go to dinner with you,” you told her quickly and honestly. 

“Really?” She asked excitedly. “I mean, that’s cool.”

“Should we?” You asked, taking out your phone to swap numbers and she laughed.

“That’s probably a good idea.”

You repeated the numbers twice to make sure she typed in the right ones, and after an awkward hug that seemed like it was almost a kiss on the cheek, you and Nugget happily walked back to your car. As soon as the driver’s side door was shut, you let out a joyous squeal and did a small dance in your seat. Your phone vibrated from the cup holder as you shifted into gear. You picked it up quickly and swiped at the screen until an unsaved number popped up on your screen. Your heart soared at the message that could only have been from one person.

212-555-6789

That was the best blind date ever! ;)

[rissouu]

if you come on tumblr and believe you own a CONCEPT or sex talk… pls unfollow me now. @blkkizzat it’s been an ongoing thing with you?

in your post you claim you don’t believe you own a concept, but you first came into my dms throwing it out about how YOUR post was plug!choso, and i tagged mine plug!choso.

and brat taming is a common fucking thing, especially in jjk. like i said before i dont even know who you are, you claim i “watered down” a version of your work i didn’t even know existed? i don’t read your works… ever. yesterday i found out that you write non-con and it literally blew me the fuck away, im not about to argue with someone who writes about that shit.

not only did you claim i copied one of your choso works, but you ALSO claim i copied another because i posted a baby!daddy drabble about choso. im not sure what work you were talking about… but fucking baby daddy. are you serious? who HASN’T written about a jjk man being a dad/baby!daddy. please do not act so entitled, there will be people who write similar dirty talk and sex play as you simply because IT IS COMMON AND POPULAR. girls like it, or at least i do. and ive always written my fucking dialogue like that.

you’re saying that a less than 6 paragraph drabble i made is copied from your work? yet yours is about university’s and sorority’s… me and my friend read over it, it literally has a whole plot. what the fuck are you talking about plagiarism and mine doesn’t even have a anything to it but fucking sex and foul language?

accuse somebody else please! you’ve been on my nerves since you dmed me, ive been writing for years and im not one to copy— especially not from you.

you followed ME and i didn’t even know about it until i got a dm from you??? and trust im not about to keep explaining myself over some dumb shit like this, you claiming i copied 2 works yet i’ve never read anything of yours in my life, girl please.

how do you come from making your main point as saying i “took” your concepts, to then saying you don’t own concepts?

then after i got into your ass about it, you switched it up and started saying you didn’t care about the concepts, i “watered down” your SEX TALK and SEX SCENES.

now onto the NEXT drabble you claim i copied you on.

again… i don’t read your works and i don’t keep up with your account. i literally stated the same thing in every response i gave you, i don’t have you followed and i do not know you. grow the fuck up this is a writing app in a very small community of writers, baby!daddy, brat!taming, and plug!anime are one of the most COMMON CONCEPTS. please leave me alone and try to argue with someone else, im not the one.

you literally took my actual sum of my story and made your own wording, making it sound EXACTLY like yours and it’s not. shut the fuck up talking about me dude you sound dumb as fuck.

mind you, yours has 2 characters in it whilst mine has one? and i have a WHOLE collection for this character? girl please, just who the hell do you think you are that somebody has to copy you ☠️? TUHHHHHH

i got the baby!daddy concept from my friend, LMFAOA. so don’t you feel stupid bitch?

@itadodori’s baby!daddy work. i simply got the concept of baby!daddy from here and put mine for choso. thank you again for helping me bby 💋

moving on.. you have a history of getting into drama with people on here ive heard, AND NOWWW I SEE WHY. i have NO history, i stay in my own lane, and barely even fucking read on here i mostly write unless it’s my moots posts.

and pls- ive literally written fucking baby!daddy before. it was never any inspo from you. now ima let the screenshots of all my previous works, wattpad and tumblr talk for me.

it’s dialogue, smut scenes, and sexual positions you claim i took, yet ive been writing this way for years… on and off tumblr?? LMAOAOAOA the proof is all here.

literally in all my works i include almost the exact same sex talk, same sex positions, scenes, and same genre of sex, as well as the same aura in the men i write. pls try to come for somebody else, i have no interest in being respectful anymore or even trying to understand your side, all that went out the window when you tried to accuse me of “taking” something from you for a second time, hoe leave me the fuck alone.

and since bitches wanna talk about where they from now? im from la where plugs are very aggressive, hence why i fucking said it because it’s common in my surroundings. you wanna flex you know plugs and do drugs and shit, but bitch we come from two entirely different worlds? i hate a dumb ass hoe dude.

and again this is fan fiction we talking about not real life. its FAN fiction and i can write my characters HOWEVER i wanna fuckin write em. none of the readers have an issue, clearly if they’re liking the content i put out and wanting to see more.

mf stealing names… LMAOAOA STEALING NAMES. bitch are you stupid?? have you never heard of a fucking alias? hoe you really have to be the DUMBEST of the DUMB. i actually do have a life outside of this app and i do not sit and fucking screen watch or start shit up all day. i don’t like people online knowing too much about me personally so i go by alias’s, simple as that. MANY people do it on here im sure you’ve even come across a few recently. stop acting like you don’t have a brain, it’s there somewhere baby please use it.

you just said it’s not word for word. how can you own actions, reactions, and sexual situations when everyone on tumblr uses practically the same thing. like i said pls come at somebody else and leave me the fuck alone.

again, sorry you THINK i copied you but that ain’t never been what it was.. since jjk came out i was on wattpad writing the same shit i do on here. i told you in the conversation we had MANYYY times that i never copied you and if its a big deal just block me? i know i blocked your ass after i finally made my final fucking points.

but you decided to post it then you’re saying don’t send hate or harass but you post it? you continued to make it an issue even after i told you MULTIPLE times i didn’t get a lick of inspiration from you. and i wasn’t even trying to go this far because it’s not in my character, but trust me i would never copy off someone like you LMAAO. i come up with my own shit— i have been for 5 YEARS NOW. and even then i still be asking my readers what they like to read, consistently actually.

mf you followed me and was waiting on a follow back for months and i had no clue until you decided to dm me on bullshit. you clearly screen watch my account that fucking much, im sure you see im always doing fucking requests AND asking my readers what they want to see from me content wise.

hop off my shit bum leave me the fuck alone, you barely got an ounce of a fucking brain this shit proves it all 😂!

[mansand]

At some point I wonder if people who respond to obvious ragebait are willfully dumb. Did we forget the whole "Don't feed the troll" commandment they feed everyone the moment they hop on the internet or do they just like getting themselves riled up and angry like "Oh my god. I can't believe you said ten slurs in a row and wished death upon a minority group before calling someone fat. You cant do that" are you for real right now do you think arguing with this person is going to do anything.

This is a sickness I often see on twitter that makes me unfollow people because they'd be replying to inflammatory shit acting all surprised that someone would post that and clogging my feed with innane comments. It's also pervasive in the notes of tumblr posts which is even funnier to me because you'd see people with more sense going "guys please stop feeding the troll" get ignored

[velvetvexations]

incredible, i just saw a reblog of that "transfem headcanons are always better and sometimes transmasc headcanons actively make the text worse and more hateful" by someone i followed. funny to see discussions arguing against the post before seeing the post itself, otherwise i would have unthinkingly internalized it and felt like shit without knowing why. anyway, i unfollowed that person now. to make it worse, op tore into someone for claiming that chihiro from danganronpa is an exception and better read as transmasc... the irony is insane. yet another example besides miquella that would make the story more boring and maybe worse if transfem.

it's so disgustingly petty lmao

a lot of transfem headcanons are reaches, often "this is literally a man magically trapped in the body of a woman and he hates it and desperately keeps trying to go back to being a man" and it's FINE to headcanon characters however you want but since some people can't conceptualize being a woman as anything other than something they wish would happen to them they take characters like that and hiss if you go near them

i get the sense that there's a very specific, narrow demographic of transfems who used to buy into that reddit guy "being a hot 22-year-old girl must be like having 10 billion dollars" attitude and never really let it go. thus the fixation on "AFAB privilege". isee a similar mix of resentment and attraction from lesbian TERFs, though it comes from a different origin. and it's an attitude that can slide easily into TERFism even for cis men--just look at tatsuya ishida!

If anything the idealization of femininity a small minority of transfems exhibit when they complain endlessly about how good trans people AFAB have it would come more from dysphoria and the grass being greener on the other side. "An AFAB trans person will immediately revert to being an innocent little girl to hurl sexual assault accusations at trans women," however, is really concerning!

Regarding whether "binary privilege" exists, i am once again on my hands and knees begging people to actually look at the statistics. The US Transgender Survey and Cohnting Ourselves (from Aotearoa) are right there. And they both show that all trans people are about as badly off as each other regardless of their specific gender. Yes, there are some ways in which being nonbinary is particularly hard, such as not having a social role to fit into, I'm not denying any of that, but if you're going to call being binary a "privilege" then there needs to be a visible whole-group effect for binary people compared to nonbinary people. And there isn't one when you look at the numbers.

It's not really about non-binary people having it flat worse, more just situational complexities.

The thing about even discussing privilege (binary privilege in this case) is that so many people talk as if to have privilege means to inherently have privilege Over someone else. Like is it an advantage for me to be vaguely binary alligned enough sometimes to have a legal gender marker that is moderately less dysphoria inducing when some people are equally harmed by either? (Tbf I live in a state where x is an option, I simply do not feel safe with that 😵‍💫 (tho that does not help when nothing else other than state id accepts it)) like yeah it's a privilege but it's not privilege Over someone. It does not make me an oppressor or mean I am causing harm, which is a thing many people seem to believe, about various forms of privilege

That's a very good point, anon.

I suppose this isn’t how others I’ve seen think about it but. I’ve always just understood that you can be oppressed for being trans without your gender being affirmed. Like. The bigots understand you’re trans but that doesn’t make them think of you as your gender it makes them think of you as trans. Misgendering is such a huge part of what transphobes do and I’ve never once assumed they were like. Lying about seeing trans people that way. I don’t get acting like transphobes can see our, as you put it, soul gender.

It makes people feel better.

[runningfrom2am]

Request: Rafe x Reader

Prank - Reader starts argument about something stupid and then faints to see his reaction.

Protective!Rafe

thank you for this request bestie (i always love your requests they EAT) and i'm sorry it took me so long!! i think this turned out really cute tho omg

twenty dollars says he cries - r.c.

pairing: rafe x fem!reader

wc: 1.1k

tags/warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort (kind of? not really?), its just a prank bro-

requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them!)

nav/masterlists

At the girls night you had just had with Sarah and Kie, you spent hours watching random vlogs on youtube and chatting about anything and everything over two or three bottles of wine. It was a weekly event that you always looked forward to.

One video in particular, though, pulled the attention of all three of you, having you all staring at the screen in silence until it was over. You slowly look over at your friends, and they're already staring at you. "We have to do it. Y/N, you have to do it with Rafe. He'll just die- I know it!" Sarah laughs, a smug smile already forming on your lips.

"I bet he'll start yelling. My money is on him throwing a tantrum." Kie giggles, bringing her wine glass back up to her lips.

"I think he'll cry." Sarah muses and Kie shakes her head.

"No shot." The brunette laughs.

"Twenty dollars says he starts crying." Sarah insists and you roll your eyes fondly. Honestly, it's not beyond the realm of possibility.

"You're on." Kie places the bet officially before turning to you. "Can you film it? Seriously I'd pay anything to watch."

"Consider it done." You laugh.

Holding on tightly to the kitchen towel in your hand, you stomp dramatically into the living room of your and Rafe's shared apartment, where he's playing video games- you assume with his friends. You step in front of the TV, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Babe, move, I'm kind of busy at the moment," Rafe says, frustrated as he leans over to try and look past you at the first-person shooter game on the big screen.

You ball up the cloth and throw it at him, furrowing your brows in an attempt to show your anger.

"Okay! Fine! What do you want?" Rafe snaps, pulling his headset off and dropping it around his neck.

"I want you to stop ignoring me in favour of those fake instagram models I always see on your phone!" You snap, putting all your energy into keeping a straight face.

"What?" Rafe breathes, running a hand through his hair. "What are you even talking about? I unfollowed almost every other girl that exists. I don't even follow your friends."

"God- you're so full of shit! I've seen it! Don't lie to me." You argue, swaying slightly as you speak and bringing a hand up to your head.

"I genuinely don't know what you're talking about! Maybe they're ads? But I've never seen them, what do you expect me to do?" Rafe says, standing up now and holding his arms out in confusion.

"Jeez, I don't know, block them?" You say, sarcasm evident in your voice until it falters at the last word, and you take a step back, leaning a hand against the armrest on the side chair to support your weight.

"That's not how that works- Hey, are you okay?" Rafe starts his statement off upset, but his tone is quick to change as you keep your eyes closed.

You open your eyes to look at him. "I'm fine- Rafe, I just-" You sigh, knees shaking for just a second before you let your body go limp, falling down next to the couch after you roll your eyes back slightly.

"Y/N! Oh my god- Are you okay?" Rafe throws his headset aside on the couch and rushes over to you, narrowly dodging the coffee table. "Hey, hey- Baby, wake up, hey!"

He's grabbing your face, gently shaking you and squeezing your cheeks as you fight back a smile. "Shit- shit, shit..." Rafe mumbles, quickly scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to the couch, careful as he lays you down.

"Y/N, you gotta wake up now- okay? Wake up. You're okay." Rafe says, and you can tell it's more to himself. You commit to the bit at this point, keeping your eyes closed and your muscles loose as he shakes you gently. "I don't know what to do! Y/N, I don't know what the fuck to do please just wake up already!" He's holding your shoulder and your hand now, shaking you more.

"Fuck- okay, water. Yeah." He mumbles to himself, quickly getting up and you can hear him running to the kitchen.

Once you're satisfied that he's gone, you lift your head just slightly, smiling over at the security camera you already have in the living room- giving a small thumbs up to your friends who you know will be watching soon.

You quickly drop your expression and hold your head as you hear the freezer slam shut, sitting up slowly.

"Okay, okay, I've got- I've got ice, I don't know what to do with it but-" Rafe says, cutting himself off when he sees you sitting up. "Y/N! Oh my god, okay, here.."

He rushes back to your side, helping you sit up before holding the bag of ice to your head. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, no- I'm fine." You insist, turning your head away to hide your face as you try not to laugh.

"You're not, something's wrong," Rafe says matter-of-factly. "Maybe you should lay back down. Do you want some water? I grabbed a bottle..." He turns around to grab it from where he tossed it on the floor to help you, and you take this opportunity to "try" and get up.

"Seriously, I'm fine." You say again, immediately stumbling on your feet and holding your head again.

"Hey! Lay back down, Love, what do you need?" He asks, standing with you and grabbing you to coax you back down on the couch. He's not successful before you're fainting in his arms again. He is quick, again, to catch you, once again lifting you onto the couch and muttering to himself in panic. He places the ice on your forehead again, and you can hear him shuffling around, looking for something. "I'm gonna call your mom, then 911, you're gonna be fine." He says, voice cracking as he's unsure if you can even hear him.

Your eyes snap open at this and you sit up, grabbing his phone from his hand as he looks at you in confusion. "Y/N?"

"Don't! Don't call my mom, I'm fine, baby" You giggle, looking up at the camera in the corner of your bookshelf.

"What? No, I just, you were-"

"It was a prank, Rafe. I'm fine." You laugh as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to him as he kneels on the floor next to the couch.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" He asks after a moment, a slight laugh in his tone. "You scared the shit out of me..."

"I know, I'm sorry." 

He kisses your cheek as he pulls away, then reaches up to wipe his cheek.

"Why are you crying?" You ask, a pout on your lips as you rub his shoulders.

"I told you, you scared me..." He sniffles, eyes red with tears now that the shock has worn off.

"Aw, no, I'm sorry, baby. I didn't think you'd actually cry..." You say, glancing toward the camera again.

"What do you mean 'actually'?" 

"Let's just say Kie owes Sarah a twenty." You giggle, kissing his cheek and pulling him in for another hug.

taglist: @bookishbabyyy, @madelynie, @whore-4-drewstarkey, @slut4drudy, @winterrrnight, @totalswag, @sadfury, @fullfledgedemo, @rafemotherfuckingcameron, @urfaveluvr, @chenslucy, @hxnnah-397, @s-we-e-t-t-ea, @tahliac11, @saccharinesammie, @ietss, @maybankslover, @redhead1180, @suzyheartsrafe, @wpdailyminimeta, @aegons-bitch, @rafegirly, @lovelyxtommy, @thelomlisrafecameron, @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles, @flonkertn, @whtvrrafe, @r1vrsefx

[maddiem4]

Well, I wanna be working on a novel right now, but apparently it's time to make a certain kind of post again, as is periodically necessary, because young queer folk keep trying to reinvent the Hayes Code for a variety of misguided reasons. So you know what? Let me lead with the TLDR, and then give my reasoning. If you DNI stuff like incest, I am not just going to unfollow you, I am going to block you.

Now, if you're the type to make assumptions, you might be surprised to hear that I'm not into incest. Sorry to disappoint. Well, unless you count selfcest, but people don't usually lump those together except by technicality. But incest is really not my thing.

That said, I have mutuals who are into it, and harmless about it. Whether it's fictional, RP, or consensual, it's not my business and it hurts nobody. Get used to those words, they're gonna be a mantra here. Further, I've seen how Hayes Queers (hey, I needed a term for them) talk about harmless members of their own community who give them The Ick. The post I'm writing here is a direct reaction to seeing a Hayes Queer post from someone I followed! Reading that, and the comments on it. And lemme tell you: y'all are very quick to throw your peers under the bus with the exact same logic (respectability politics, personal disgust, "making a bad name for us as a larger group", lurking threat to our moral purity) that the conservatives are using to argue for the mass extermination of queer folk. You are bringing pitchforks and tiki torches to the party. So no, I am not going to give you access to my vulnerable mutuals. That's the heart of it. You are a danger to your community, and I'm going to limit the scope of harm you can do. The broader queer/kink communities have worked hard to define harm more carefully than "well I just personally think it's gross." Scat and piss are gross to me, but my mutuals who are into those things do still deserve love and safety, not to be sacrificed on an altar of conservative family values for imaginary "one of the good ones" points. I have a responsibility to look out for my people. So do you, FYI.

So here's the recipe for living online with people whose kinks aren't your business and hurt nobody: learn to scroll past those posts or block those tags, or even block that person. Be an adult. The world does not exist to be personally palatable to you. You are not being harmed, you're being inconvenienced. If you can't handle that, you're the one bringing real-world (rather than imagined) danger to your community. Fuck's sake.

This also finally convinced me to look up what "proshipper" means after seeing it in discourse for years, these dreaded dangerous devils who apparently must be purged from the internet, and... holy fuck, how is this contentious? It literally just means you can disagree about fandom pairings without harassing people? That's just mature behavior in a shared space. That's what the argument is about? Oh my god. If you're arguing about this in 2024, your Aunt Maddie is fully ashamed of you for real.

The dumbest part is that people get doxxed for saying the stuff I'm saying, and maybe it'll happen to me. Guess I'll roll the dice. Which comes full circle: if you're looking at this post and trying to decide how to punish me for it IRL, you are literally being the danger. Stop and think for 30 milliseconds. Maybe I have a point that you are a bigger threat than two trans girls who like to pretend to be sisters for sex reasons. And I don't wanna hear no trauma excuses from any of you little monkeys, fetishes come from trauma a decent percentage of the time, so a lot of the people you're persecuting are victims of the same kind of assault as you.

This is more words than I ever should have to write about a self-evident topic. I know if you're young enough and still figuring out a lot of life stuff from scratch, it may not be self-evident to you. But hopefully it is now before you fucking hurt somebody. Thanks.

[moviesludge]

It's very dumb when people expect others to put more effort into protecting them from images that upset them than the amount of effort they themselves are putting into being vigilant about avoiding said images. I don't think this actually happens very often though. It seems like most people who are legit bothered by horror images are invested in their own peace of mind to the point where they're proactive about the steps they take to avoid them.

I have a hard time believing that the anon who messaged me a bit ago wasn't just someone trying to fuck with me. They suggested I tag for "blood and gore". How does a person following me not expect these kinds of images, not blacklist the titles of any of these movies, and not unfollow me after the ~500 horror movie posts I've been posting every half hour since October 1st? And you could argue maybe they just recently followed me. If they're that sensitive to horror images, why wouldn't they check out the blog before following? Also, do they have no ability to sniff out the types of movies that might contain gore, as people sensitive to seeing images of gore? I just don't buy any of it.

I get a few anon messages every October when I'm posting gifs. The majority of them are people being nice and/or supportive, and I always appreciate the boost and talking about horror stuff. But I always get one or two that claim to be upset about something I did or didn't do or a joke I made or something. There's only maybe one or two of all those messages that I got over the years that seemed like potentially legitimate gripes. In both cases, the person was missing context and making a leap to go out of their way to attack me. In both of those cases it seemed like a really deliberate overlooking of easy-to-find context for them to be legit complaints.

[dammit-neal]

WTF

I'm about to be unfollowed by all the Ravi stans, but how many ways can I say HELL TO THE NO?!?!?

The thing about Ravi: He's adorable. And that's it; perfect side-character potential, good for the occasional gag. Aside from that, he has no personality, no real character development unless you count the retcon turning him into a real estate bro (I don't, that was some bullshit). Frankly, I just don't care about him. Like at all. When a corner of this fandom was clamoring about giving Ravi his own Begins episode, I was firmly in the camp of "that's a waste of screentime that would be better dedicated to characters I give a shit about."

Sorry not sorry, I don't care about Ravi. The core cast of 9-1-1 is already crowded, the screentime spent on core characters has been impacted by the overcrowding, not to mention the lower quality writing and unbalanced obsession with Buck at the expense of basically everyone else. I'm already feeling cheated, for the love of crap, please don't try to Make Ravi Happen. I think ScreenRant kinda disproved their argument in the title of their own article: "A Forgotten 9-1-1 Character" eh? So you agree he's forgettable?

Arguing with the article's points a bit: "Ravi will breathe new life into the 118." No he won't. He didn't do it when he was there before, and he's not about to find a way now. Ravi as a character isn't very interesting, and hate me for saying this if you must, but the actor playing him? Is dull. No "It Factor," nothing captivating about him, nothing that makes me think "If only this actor had more screentime and more material to work with!" He's boring. Sue me.

"Ravi Has untapped potential" See above, no he doesn't. Boring character, played by an unengaging actor. Maybe it's because he doesn't have dynamic chemistry with any of the core cast? He could thrive in a 9-1-1 spin-off maybe. "Everything that happens to Ravi is harrowing enough for a full episode, but he’s been confined to the sidelines." Yes, he has, and rightfully so. A character doesn't become great in TV or Film because of random plot points thrown at them by the writers. They're a good character because the actor playing them engages me as a viewer, whether they're dangling from a cliff or walking and chewing gum. There are actors who can take a nothing line "Here's your coffee" and make people want to see more. It's a sparkle in their eye, an instant chemistry, an interest. Ravi's character has been handed a LOT of juicy potential plot threads on paper, but I could care less to pick at those threads because the actor who plays him doesn't turn in a performance that makes me sit up and pay attention.

AND THEN THIS: Eddie Diaz, played by Ryan Guzman. I'll be the first to agree that Ryan isn't gonna win an Oscar anytime soon, but something about his performance as Eddie is interesting. He isn't any more or less good looking that Anirudh Pisharody (they're both gorgeous, the difference between them I think largely comes down to personal taste) so it's not a looks thing; it's an It Factor thing. Ryan is more interesting to watch on screen than Anirudh.

As a character, Ryan handles Eddie's rich character development well, and because he's been there for years, his character hasn't just been through plot points; he's affected the lives of other core characters deeply, and they his. He's also beloved by a good portion of the 9-1-1 fandom (and specifically hated by a random lil group of folks who seem to have it out for him specifically? Whatever, I guess). Eddie has great potential for more story, and I'm actually quite excited for a separation, because it means we'll finally get to see Eddie's story OUTSIDE of Buck's perspective, which is what it's been falling into lately. I want Eddie's perspective on Eddie's life, I actually want to get to know his family. I want to see him grow in this challenge (even though the way he got into it with more Shannon bullshit still has me rolling my eyes 360 degrees).

I hope they give Eddie's story a chance to play out. And I hope they give Ravi his 5 minutes (divided between a couple episodes) and then call it quits. I know this will upset people, and I want to be clear, I'm not writing this in order to upset people. Feel free to disagree with me, out loud if you want. But I'm tired of feeling like I can't speak my mind about the favorite squeegee character of the month, so here ya go. Eddie's a great character and I want to know what happens to him in depth. Ravi can kick rocks. I said it.

[jjmaybankssurfergf]

no bc I love how people still fucking complain saying “Rudy ruined his reputation” bro don’t even with me rn. Rudy is doing theater he has 3 movies plus a tv show he had just finished. Your telling me him as an actor that his rep is ruined? Madison Bailey had only one movie out and she co stared in a not so popular show on Netflix for a small role, along with how she only got one episode in American horror story. Y’all are crazy, rudy stared in 3 movies (3rd one he co-stared in but still that was with Luke Evan’s who has been in tons of movies including the live action beauty and the beast) Yet his rep is ruined? No it’s not, he did a play of Romeo and Juliet. That’s 3 movies a play and a series (which truth be told he did amazing). Madison Bailey stared in a horror movie (that basically butchered horror films) there were off screen kills and the acting was soooo fucking cheesy. Her acting in OBX also sucked too, all she did was frown on screen (and her tits were out the whole time). Now she has a music career apparently and she only has two songs that sound just like Sabrina’s song all because I liked a boy (what coincidence considering she’s a big fan of Sabrina too). Rudy may not have anyone on his side right now but just remember the truth always comes out. It’s also funny how carlacia, chase, and Madison have all fat shamed on twitter or other platforms but no one talks about it. Then Madelyn being immature because “she wasn’t invited to a birthday party” and decided it would just be fun to unfollow and post a petty picture on her story. It’s a fucking birthday party get over it. Yet Rudy has never done anything wrong, never posted anything about fat people or homophobic transphobic or racist EVER.

Yet you all hate him for leaving because his co star is a little bitch and his gf is a cunt? That’s not his fault, those two women are responsible for their own actions. Not him. There grown ass women who like to fight and argue, yet you blame him because he’s the boyfriend and he’s in the middle. Yeah ok that makes sense. I just don’t see how rudy needs to take the blame for Madison’s and Elaine’s actions for something he didn’t cause.

also you do understand the director needs to approve of a script or movie change before it happens. They are also the ones that write it. So if rudy did ask, they are the ones who gave the shitty ending.

I’m blocking people who are blaming rudy for this and not Madison because that’s really unfair. Because he’s a white straight male, meanwhile she’s biracial, gay, and a woman. Therefore no one wants to blame her. But I will bc I don’t give a fuck and I love rudy. So deal with that