#*bandwagon that was supposed to be up there

[cator99]

Should I apply 4 the Lols

[paint-music-with-me]

im so conflicted bc i wanted to rewrite ep 11 pt 4 where mhok and day actually talk and mhok actually gets to open up to day but while i was writing the outline for the fic, i realized how much more similar mhok and night are re: guilt and responsibility for their siblings, rung and day respectively. like write a scene where night and mhok are talking, maybe about guilt and night notices that mhok is carrying some emotional weight and maybe he opens up bc he doesn't feel like he could open up like that to day (not bc he's doesn't trust day but bc "why should i dump this trauma onto him?" kind of thing yk?) and maybe while night and mhok talk, day overhears and is like connecting a couple strings from previous eps? then maybe something happens and day brings it up and mhok allows himself to be vulnerable to day and day takes care of him 🥺🥺🥺

[taintedsoul-if]

It’s me again and I still don’t know how we if it’s possible to end Yesenia life.

The only way I would assume we could hurt her would be to make her seem mad or crazy but since she can rewind time if I remember correctly then she will be the most difficult opponent. I will come up with a solution that I promise.

The only I got was if she used her power make it were she goes to pocket realm or dimension. And she would be stock in a time loop but the man question is how far back can she go because if she really sees the Mc as a threat then Yesenia can go back to the beginning and frame you for stuff you didn’t do.

This right here is difficult but my brain my come with a solution. This has in a way given me something to do when I just need a break from the real world

Oh also

Bear hug 🤗

Hi anon I do hope all is well with you! 🤗 hug!

I was hesitant about whether or not I should add that OP power to the pc character stats page but just for you I've decided that I would add this ability. I'll allow the character to have the ability to create their own dimension. Then again 😏 god I want to spill all the juicy details but I can't.

And you do have a point! This is why she's an undying cockroach. In the past when Lady Anaya saved the crown, Yesenia deliberately went back in time, schemed against the OH just to switch places with her that faithful day. Just so she could get all the fame and merit that came with that tragedy. The poor OH has been living in her shadows for years. An excellent child turned into a waste under her own sisters hand.

The worst thing is that, if it weren't for the OH mother, Yesenia's mother would still be a whore in a brothel. But ones ungratefulness knows no bounds!

Don't feel discouraged anon! I believe that you'll most certainly think of a way to defeat this undying cockroach! Whenever you have another brilliant idea, please do share it with me!

Also anon I do hope you have a wonderful day! Stay safe! 😁

[prokopetz]

It's kind of telling to see some of the exact same people who've cheerfully been making and/or circulating those "political action is supposed to be disruptive – if it was easy to ignore it wouldn't work!" posts turn around and jump on the "these Palestine fundraising requests making it mildly inconvenient to curate my Tumblr inbox must be part of some nefarious scheme" bandwagon. Like, disruption is good right up until the point it affects you personally, eh?

[halfvalid]

pretty in that

ABOUT

rating: general audiences

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!monkey d. luffy | live action!nami

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.2k

description: you have a hard time picking a dress for dinner whilst in kaya's mansion. zoro (sort of) helps!

tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, fluff, kissing, confessions, no use of "y/n", special straw hat appearances (nami & luffy), soft zoro

author's note: i'm a sucker for dress-up scenes so i KNEW i was gonna write smth like this once that ep3 scene started playing. reader chooses a dress at the end; dress is non-described so you can imagine your ideal dress!

You were on Nami and Zoro’s side when it came to whatever was going on in Syrup Village. Kaya’s mansion made you feel vaguely unsettled, and stepping into the building made your heart pound quicker than you would like to admit. But if there was one thing that piqued your interest, it was the order of changing clothes for dinner. You’d been stuck in the same few outfits for weeks now, and the promise of something new—and formal—was nearly exciting, although you’d never admit it in front of Nami and her disapproving gaze. 

Kaya’s kindness combined with the private guest room and bath you were treated to helped soothe your nerves. Soon you found yourself being led to the giant closet the rest of the Straw Hats were already in—Nami was trying on various different pieces, and Zoro seemed to have something in hand too. 

“Ah, there you are!” Luffy said, swiveling on his heel and giving you a big grin as you entered the room. You stared in disbelief at all of the racks around you. Hell, there were even clothes hanging from the ceiling. 

“Well, we certainly have a lot of options,” you said, skimming a hand over a nearby rack. There were a variety of different fabrics, but they all felt expensive: silk and velvet, damasks and brocades. “I don’t even know where to start.” 

“I’m just trying on anything,” Nami called from where she was, before stepping out from the room divider she’d been changing behind. She wore an emerald dress with a plunging neckline, the patterned silk clinging to her curves, and did a little spin. “What do you think?” 

Luffy shrugged. Zoro wrinkled his nose, barely glancing up from the armchair he was lounging on. “I think it looks nice,” you offered, but Nami still seemed dissuaded. 

“Ugh, these two are impossible. What are you going to wear?” 

“Uh, I’m getting there,” you said with a little laugh. “It’s a bit overwhelming; I’d rather help you guys pick first. Luffy, have you found something yet?” You turned towards the man in the center of the room, who nodded enthusiastically. 

“Yeah, I found this!” He raised up a black waistcoat. You frowned at it. 

“Um, Luffy, waistcoats are supposed to be worn with a suit,” you said, then paused, seeing his blank look. “...Never mind.” 

“And I’m wearing black,” Zoro added, despite the piece of clothing slung along his lap definitely not being black. You exchanged a glance with Nami, who just rolled her eyes. They’re stupid, she mouthed, then returned to the rack she was glancing through. She worked quickly, pulling out various numbers that she scrutinized before either setting on the couch beside her or putting back. 

“Okay,” you said slowly. “Need me to find you some pants with that, Cap?” Nami and Zoro let out identical groans as you spoke the pet name, both turning to give you exasperated looks. You suppressed your laugh. 

“Stop calling him that,” Zoro said with a tired sigh. “You’re encouraging him.” 

“Kind of the point, yeah,” you said cheerfully. While Zoro and Nami were both still largely unconvinced about the whole pirate crew thing, you’d joined the bandwagon rather quickly. Zoro rolled his eyes, and you turned towards the racks to find Luffy some slacks. “Assumedly you need something other than that shirt too?” 

“I’ll look later,” Zoro said passively. You watched him out of your peripheral vision. He was outfitted in a patterned kimono, his three swords slung along his lap. He didn’t seem too interested in his surroundings, though what he was doing, you weren’t sure. You let him be, turning to page through the racks of clothes again. Finally you found a pair of slacks that seemed like they’d fit Luffy. 

“Here,” you said, passing them over to him. “And find some shoes while you’re at it.” 

“Why does she even have clothes that don’t fit her?” Zoro murmured, sounding as baffled as he could get. “What, she just casually has clothes in all four of our sizes hanging around?” 

“Rich people own things just to own them,” Nami called. She’d changed again; this dress had a halter neckline and was blush pink. Zoro motioned with a hand at it, and Nami frowned, glancing down at the dress. “You don’t like it?” 

“Eh,” Zoro said. Nami made a face. 

“At this point I think you’re hating just to hate.” She pulled up a few more options, narrowing her eyes as she surveyed them. Luffy was seemingly satisfied with what you’d given him, because he took the pieces off of their hangers and slung them over his shoulder. 

“I’m off,” he announced. “Gonna go change in my room and do some exploring before dinner. Have fun!” With that, he left, and Nami sighed, turning towards you. She held up her final two options—a red cheongsam with delicate gold embroidery and a pastel blue dress with an a-line skirt. You gnawed on your bottom lip as you studied the two.

“I think the blue one might wash you out a bit,” you said eventually; it’d clash with her hair no doubt, and make her skin look even paler. The shade wasn’t a right match with her eyes, either. “I like the cheongsam; I think you should go with that one. It contrasts nicely with your hair.” 

Nami raised up the dress again, inspecting it. “You’re right,” she said, ducking back behind the room divider to change. You started pursuing the racks again; Nami stepped out a few moments later, successfully outfitted in her new dress. “Okay, I’m going to go do my hair in my guest room. Good luck.” 

“Bye,” you called, watching as she left the room. You clicked your tongue, almost alone now and with absolutely zero options of clothing. As much as you liked the idea of new clothes, the abundance of options was starting to seem a little daunting. “Okay, now that Nami’s done, it’s my turn to play dress-up.” 

Zoro laughed from where he sat, and you startled, almost having forgotten he was there. He was watching you attentively, his attention having diverted from whatever it was he’d been thinking about earlier. “You like this kind of thing?” 

“Well, I mean.” You shrugged, peering at a few of the pieces on the rack in front of you. You pulled out a deep green dress, eyeing the lace by the neckline before setting it back. “It’s kind of fun, isn’t it?” 

“Not really what I’m into.” 

“You wear jewelry, so clearly you have some fashionable instinct,” you pointed out, bending over to glance at the clothes hiding by your knees. These were all skirts or unreasonably short dresses, with so little fabric you were uncertain they would cover anything at all. “Unless the earrings are for another reason…?”

“Three swords, three earrings.” 

“Makes sense. What are you wearing with your shirt?” You glanced back to see Zoro’s answer, but he merely shrugged. “Do you want me to find you some trousers? A suit?” 

“You don’t need to find clothes for me. I can do that myself.” Still, Zoro made absolutely no move to do so. You rolled your eyes, but turned your attention back on what you’d be wearing for the dinner. Vaguely you wondered how Zoro would look wearing a suit. You flushed almost as soon as the thought popped into your head, shoving it into the very back of your skull and banishing it from seeing the light of day. 

“If you say so,” you said instead, mostly to distract yourself from the beyond inappropriate thoughts starting to run through your head. Honestly, you barely knew your crew mates—the four of you were close to tearing each other’s throats out before you ran into Buggy, after all. And the fact that Zoro was, well, conventionally attractive—and you tried to keep your thoughts on that and that alone, anything emotional was strictly out of the question—shouldn’t be something your mind lingered on. 

You picked out the first dress that looked to be your size. It was dark purple, backless with a tight trumpet skirt. Ducking behind the room divider Nami had used, you stripped off your clothes, donning the dress. There was a mirror along the other side of the divider, and you turned, trying to appraise the dress on your figure. The color didn’t look entirely right, and you were uneasy about the lack of mobility the skirt might have—Kaya’s staff were still extremely suspicious, after all, and you’d rather be safe than sorry. 

“Let me see,” Zoro called from outside. You tugged at the dress, suddenly nervous, but stepped out after you couldn’t find a good enough excuse not to. Zoro’s eyes ran up and down your figure, and you did a slow circle, showing off the dress. The bare skin of your back prickled. 

“You’re not going to be able to move in it,” he eventually said. 

You huffed out a breath, the nervous energy that had accumulated in your chest leaving with the action. Something in your belly stirred; disappointment, maybe, that Zoro had only commented on the practicality of the dress, not how you looked in it. But you pushed those thoughts away with an angry shove. Not the time, and definitely not the person to be thinking those sorts of things about. “Yeah, that’s what I was worried about. Let me find something else.” 

Zoro’s gaze didn’t flicker from your body as you started across the room, ducking between more racks to find something. “You dead-set on a dress?” 

“I haven’t worn a dress in a while,” you answered, picking out a red one before remembering Nami’s choice and setting it back. “Might as well take the opportunity.” The next one you pulled was blue, all shiny and soft. The material looked like some kind of tender silk. You set it aside to try on. “Why?” 

“Haven’t seen either you or Nami in a dress before.” 

“Actually, you have. I’m wearing one right now and Nami tried like five on earlier,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to shoot Zoro an unimpressed look. He scoffed, though there was a smile at the edges of his mouth as he turned his head away. Your next choice was soft pink, and made of tulle that vaguely resembled a puff pastry. You pulled it up. “Think I should try it?” 

“I mean, pick whatever,” Zoro said, though he seemed mildly disgusted by the amount of fabric the skirt had, all bunched up with layers like something a ballerina might wear. “What are you trying to achieve with the dress?” 

“What am I—I’m trying to look nice, Zoro,” you said, stifling your laughter. You set the pink dress back, replacing it with a sage green number instead. “Not everything has ulterior motives.” 

“You always look nice.” 

You froze, a soft chill curling around the back of your neck. Carefully, you straightened up from where’d you been bent over yet another rack of clothes, turning to look Zoro in the eye. His eyes hadn’t moved. “Oh,” you managed out, throat all dry and tongue like sandpaper in your mouth. “Well, thank you.” 

Zoro cleared his throat, a dull noise he made in the hollow of his throat without even parting his lips. His gaze flickered away. “Yeah. Go try those on.” 

Wordlessly, you stepped back behind the room divider and slipped on the blue dress. It had a texture like water—it was some kind of high-end silk, flexible enough that it was near liquid in movement. The dress itself fell to your ankles, and had a simple square neckline. You stepped outside, doing another slow twirl. “Better,” Zoro said. 

“Better how?” 

“You can probably run in it.” 

You twisted your lips, trying to suppress the urge to turn them down into a frown. “Okay. It’s not doing it for me.” You ducked back behind the divider to change yet again; the sage green one was satin, with long sleeves and a neckline you hadn’t anticipated would be that deep. 

Still, upon exiting the divider and turning for Zoro again, he didn’t have any worthwhile feedback. “It’s kind of plain,” he said eventually, not meeting your eyes. 

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest; you had to almost resist stomping over to the racks to find something more, and spent another few minutes gathering dresses and trying them on. 

To your immense disappointment, each one garnered little to no reaction from Zoro. You even shoved on one of the tiny, too-little fabric dresses you’d disapproved of earlier, but all Zoro did was scan you from head to toe and say, rather flatly, “you’d get stabbed pretty easily in that.” 

Frustration bled into your nerves as you hid behind the divider again. You glared at yourself in the mirror—your skin had started flushing with how annoyed you were getting, which might’ve been funny had you not been so ticked off. Men, you thought, irritated. Was it really so hard to tell you that you looked pretty? 

He’s a bounty hunter, you had to remind yourself. He doesn’t care about this kind of thing. Besides, he was the last person you should be setting your sights on anyway. You tugged at the short dress, the hem just barely grazing the tops of your thighs. 

You heard footsteps approaching from outside the divider, suddenly too close as you snapped yourself out of the reverie of thoughts you’d been lost in. Zoro turned the corner, arm propped up against the divider edge as he peered in, brows furrowed. “You stopped coming out,” he said. He was still in his kimono, swords tossed over one shoulder. The shirt he had was, assumedly, left on the couch he’d finally stood up from. 

“I’m frustrated,” you told him blandly. His frown deepened. 

“Because of… clothing?” 

You suppressed the sigh that threatened to escape your lungs. “Never mind. I’m fresh out of ideas.” You pushed past Zoro, opting to stand in the center of the room as if analyzing it from a different view would magically give you more options. Zoro turned to stare, still looking perplexed. “With so many options, it’s hard to make up my mind, that’s all.” 

“Uh huh.” Zoro was still studying you. “Did I do something?” 

“What? No,” you said hastily. Too hastily. The words had ripped out of your throat like a hiccup, and you seriously needed to learn how to lie a bit better because now Zoro’s expression was even more confused. “No. Why would I be mad at you?” 

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.” 

“It’s nothing,” you insisted, turning away from Zoro to stare at some of the clothes hanging on the wall above his head. These were too high up to properly look at, and as you stepped back, you glanced through the dresses hanging off the arch of the ceiling. You perused them without too much interest, eyes glancing over the various colors and fabrics until— 

Zoro stepped next to you. “Hey,” he said, and you jolted, head snapping down to look at him. You let out a noise of irritation, then turned your focus back on the ceiling. 

Your gaze flickered through the racks until finally falling on one particular dress hanging by the mouth of the room. It was somewhat hidden, tucked in a little corner beside a few other pieces, but from your vantage point it seemed about your size. 

You took a step closer to it, surveying it with your neck craned. The material looked soft and comfortable but it still retained shape, and the color—even in the dim lighting of the closet—was one of your favorites. The undertone would suit your skin perfectly. And, well, you didn’t want to put all your bets on one dress you hadn’t even touched, but it was certainly promising. 

Zoro stepped past you, barely exerting any effort to reach up and bring the dress down from where it hung up high. “This one, right?” he asked, and you swallowed, some of the annoyances you had towards him dissolving as he extended the dress hanger towards you. You nodded wordlessly, taking it. You stood there for a second before Zoro gestured with his head towards the divider. “Go try it on.” 

You did so, retreating safely behind your wall and stepping out of the little dress. You surveyed the one Zoro had grabbed for you again, heart lodged in your throat. It really was beautiful, and exactly your style; now that you saw it up close, you could safely affirm it was your size too, but nervousness still pulsed through your veins at it. 

Carefully, you slipped it on, adjusting the fabric around your hips and fixing up the neckline to rest evenly on your skin.

Zoro spoke out from the rest of the room. “So why are you mad at me?” 

“I’m not—” you sighed, dropping your arms before returning to fiddle with the dress. “I’m not mad at you.” 

“Is it because I wasn’t being helpful with the clothes? Because I already said that’s not exactly my area of expertise—” 

“It’s not because of the clothes, Zoro,” you said sharply, cutting him off. Zoro clicked his tongue, the sound reverberating around the room and thudding in time with your heartbeat. You turned your attention back onto your reflection. “It’s just me being silly. Don’t worry about it.” 

‘I’m worrying about it,” Zoro deadpanned. You sighed, adjusting the dress one final time before arranging your hair and staring at yourself in the mirror. It fit you perfectly, emphasizing all the right places and hiding all the parts of your body you were more insecure about. “Changed yet?” 

“Yeah,” you said, voice limp. 

“Let me see.” 

You bit your lip, suddenly nervous about how he’d react. Knowing him, it’d be something like it’s okay or the color’s fine; perhaps can you even walk in that? or weird shape if he was feeling a little more critical. Still, you stepped out anyway, not meeting Zoro’s eyes as you spun for him, letting him look at the dress from all angles. When you’d finished posing you glanced up, eyes meeting him tentatively. 

“It’s…” Zoro cleared his throat, ripping his gaze away from the dress on your figure to flicker up to your face. His gaze dropped again nearly as fast, like he couldn’t bear to keep eye contact. “Uh.” 

“It’s what?” you prompted, turning to face the nearest mirror. Your lips twisted into a worried frown, turning to glance at the dress again. Was it really not as perfect as you’d thought originally? “Do you like it? It’s my favorite so far, I think, but if you don’t like it—” 

“You look pretty in that,” Zoro blurted, cutting your rambles off with the strident, too-loud sentence. You froze, eyes flickering to meet him in the mirror. Carefully, he glanced up at you, and you could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. 

“Oh.” 

Zoro coughed, averting his gaze as you slowly turned around to face him. You couldn’t see properly with the less-than-ideal lighting of the room, but his face seemed to have taken on a ruddier complexion. “I like it,” he said, words softer than they’d been before. “It’s the one.” 

There was a little rush of something through your veins, and you felt vaguely lightheaded. “Okay,” you barely managed to squeak out. “Thanks.” You stumbled back behind the divider, sucking in a deep breath and trying to regulate your breathing. God, this was actually shameful at this point. 

You composed yourself quickly, gathering all the dresses you’d tried on and abandoned to return to their proper places. Zoro was still watching you attentively, and you glanced over your shoulder at him. Sparks prickled along your skin as your eyes met. “What?” you asked. 

“You’re acting weird.” 

“Am not.” 

Zoro stood up, rolling back his shoulders and stretching his head from side to side. He glanced through the racks and, without even a minute’s hesitation, plucked a suit jacket and matching pants out from beside him. “Yeah, you are. What’s up?”

“You’re just grabbing those without thinking about it?” you demanded, eager to change the subject. Zoro rolled his eyes.

“I picked them like fifteen minutes ago,” he said. “Just didn’t grab them until you were done your whole… thing. Now spill it. You’re all red again.” 

You swiveled towards the closest mirror, unable to suppress your gape as you saw that your skin had indeed turned a distinctive shade of scarlet, flushed undertones creeping their way up your skin. It was entirely recognizable even in the terrible lighting. Even your skin was treacherous, now. “Nothing,” you muttered, unable to meet Zoro’s eyes as you spit it out. “I was annoyed because you weren’t telling me what you thought of the dresses.” 

“I… did, though?” Zoro said, perplexed. You let out a grating sigh, cheeks flaring even hotter now that he was forcing you to confess the entire extent of your sins. 

“Yeah, like, practically,” you said, wrapping your arms defensively over your chest. “You’ll get stabbed in that so easily. You won’t be able to walk. I just wanted you to tell me that—” you cut yourself off with another groan. “Don’t make me say it.”

Zoro blinked. “I have no idea what you’re edging towards, so you’re going to have to say it.”

“I just wanted you to tell me I looked nice!” you finally burst out, turning so you wouldn’t have to look at Zoro’s face. God, you were going to have to quit the Straw Hats after this. It was so entirely stupid. 

“But—” There was a laugh in Zoro’s voice, and you glared down at the floor, all of your dignity having left you by this point. You had no shame left to feel anymore. “I said ‘you always look nice’. Doesn’t that insinuate—” 

“That’s not the point,” you said hotly, tone almost argumentative now. “I wanted you to think I looked pretty in a dress, Zoro.” 

Zoro didn’t respond for a moment, brows creasing and face taking on a baffled expression. “But why—” Zoro cut himself off, and you turned even redder, holding your breath as he finally connected the dots. A single word fell from his lips, like a soft breath of air as he spoke. “Oh.” 

“Oh,” you muttered under your breath, unable to stop the almost whining tone your voice took on. Zoro stepped closer to you, a hand wrapping around your wrist and forcing you to look up at him. 

“I said you looked pretty in this one.” 

“I know,” you insisted, still all red, “which is why I’m not totally mad at you, but—” 

“You looked pretty in all of them,” Zoro said. He didn’t look bashful, per se—you didn’t think Zoro could get shy—but his voice was low, all hoarse in a more tentative way rather than one of his grating remarks this time. “For the record.” 

Your breath caught. 

“This one’s my favorite, though,” Zoro muttered. And then he was leaning down to kiss you, the ghost of his lips just on the corner of your mouth. You gaped up at him in shock as he averted his gaze, staring at some spot about your head. “Was that—” he started, before clearing his throat and trying again with a little more of his dignity this time. “Was that okay?” 

“Yes,” you blurted fervently, and before you could fix up the moment with something more, well, suitable, your big mouth ruined it for you. “But I think we’re holding up dinner. You should get changed, and I still need to find shoes.” 

You bit your tongue immediately after the words had been said, but it was too late—Zoro coughed, turning away from you. You panicked, and now it was your turn to grab his arm and tug you towards him. “Wait!” 

Zoro glanced down at you, perplexed, and then you leaned up to kiss him square on the mouth. He stumbled back, surprised, but adjusted quickly, hand going to cradle the back of your neck and pressing you right to him before you finally broke apart. 

“You should steal it,” he started. You stared up at him in question. “The dress, I mean. You should steal it.” 

“When am I ever going to need to wear this again?” you asked, perplexed. Zoro shrugged, fingers tugging at the edge of the dress's neckline. 

“Dunno. Just take it. She probably won’t even notice.” 

“You’re adorable,” you teased; Zoro wrinkled his nose but didn’t complain, opting instead to move away and pick up the clothes he still hadn’t changed into. “Go change. See you at dinner.” 

“Yeah,” Zoro said, his eyes not straying from your figure as you ducked out of the room. Before you could fully leave, though, Zoro grabbed your wrist, spinning you around towards him.

You didn’t have enough time to ask what he was doing when he leaned around to kiss you one final time, his hands cradling your face as your lips moved against each other. It was only a moment later that he stepped away, looking rather sheepish but not very apologetic as he finally let you go. 

“You look more than pretty,” he murmured, eyes sinking into yours, and your throat dried, any words you might’ve formed dying away within seconds. “You always look more than pretty. You look gorgeous.” 

“Thank you,” you whispered, and then he ducked back inside the closet to change. 

© halfvalid 2023

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! I would love to read more about the dynamic between poly!marauders and reader. Like maybe some domestic fluff just showing the interaction between the boys and with reader. I love the way you write true poly with the boys together too 🥹🤍

Hi lovely, thanks for requesting!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

“Shit!” Sirius hisses, another piece of popcorn splintering off his string. It’s nearly all cranberries at this point, and half the length of either yours or Remus’. “How are yours not breaking?”

“Patience,” Remus preaches, eyes on his needle as he slides it smoothly through yet another popcorn kernel. 

“Sounds made up,” James scoffs. The remains of his own popcorn are littered about his lap and his fingers are stained pink with cranberry juice. His problems lie in inaccuracy as much as impatience, constantly getting ahead of himself and pricking his fingers rather than his target. Fortunately, Rugby Captain James Potter is no stranger to pain, so he only extends the injured finger towards where you sit on the floor for you to kiss each time before resuming his work. 

“Completely agree.” Sirius is quick to hop on James’ half-constructed bandwagon. “They’re conspiring against us, keeping the real secrets of success to themselves.” 

“They’re focussing on their work,” you say, grinning when Sirius’ foot nudges your shoulder meanly, “which is how they keep from messing up.” 

“Cruel,” he murmurs, but you only hum, a wordless You know I’m right. And he does, because he goes quiet. 

James could never stand silence. “It’s almost cold enough for a fire,” he remarks after nearly five seconds of it. “Maybe we could have one tomorrow?” 

“You just want to chop firewood,” Remus accuses. 

“I don’t mind,” you say quietly, looking down at your hands, and Sirius nods emphatically. Another piece of popcorn shatters in his hands, bits of it hitting your shoulder.

“Yeah, don’t deter him.” 

“I don’t even get to chop it anymore since you started buying it at Tesco,” James complains, shooting Remus a resentful look. “Now I just want to watch fire. It’s the last caveman’s pleasure you’ve left me.” 

You glance over, and Remus is looking downward, trying and failing to quell his smile. “Fine,” he relents. “We can pick some up tomorrow and have a fire.”

“Yes!” James leans around Sirius, planting a smacking kiss on Remus’ cheek. “Thank you.” 

“S’no problem.” Remus has gone all soft and blushy. You and Sirius exchange a fond, knowing look. 

“Hey, do you think we could pick up some of those gingerbread house kits while we’re there?” you ask the room. “We didn’t get a chance to do those last year.” 

“Patience,” Remus reminds you, recovering. “It’s hardly the end of November, we’ve got a whole month for that.” 

Your mouth pulls dissatisfiedly. “Yeah, but last year we thought the same thing and then we ran out of time.” 

“You know what we should do?” James perks up. “Have a competition! Whoever makes the best gingerbread house in under an hour gets—”

“No,” you all say on top of each other. 

You shake your head. “It’ll take all the fun out of it, Jamie.”

“You can’t put a time limit on creativity,” Sirius agrees. “Hey, I got three in a row!” He beams, holding his garland up for Remus’ approval, and the other boy appraises it for a second, nodding sagely. 

“Well done.” 

“Sorry,” you tell James, who’s still pouting after the hasty shut-down of his idea. “We can race at something else if you want to, but that sort of stuff is supposed to be more…”

“Peaceful,” Remus supplies, and you nod relievedly. 

“Exactly.” 

“S’fine,” James sulks. He sticks his needle through a cranberry, a pitiful whine escaping him when it comes out the other side harsher than he’d expected. He extends his hand toward you palm up, and you take it, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of his finger. “Mm, now here.” He leans down, tapping the corner of his mouth. You smile, pecking him sweetly on the lips. He tastes like the peppermint chapstick he uses this time of year, which you love and Sirius abhors (he thinks all mint tastes like toothpaste). “Alright,” James says, lips curving against yours, “now it’s actually fine.” 

“Scoundrel,” Sirius accuses. “My poor darling, do you feel used?” 

“Not terribly,” you admit, but it’s no deterrence to Sirius, who reaches down to haul you into his lap. Your garland trails after you, overlapping with his. You settle in contentedly. 

“Who’s the scoundrel now,” James objects. “You can’t just move her about like she’s got no will of her own.” 

You’re perfectly happy to be wherever they want you, but you aren’t going to say that. “Does anyone fancy a hot chocolate? I just got those peppermint marshmallows.” 

Sirius makes a face. “No thanks. James, make the girl a hot chocolate.” 

“Why me?” James objects. 

“I’ll have one too,” Remus says. 

“It’s her idea, why doesn’t she make them?”

“Because she,” Sirius says, weaving his arms under yours to resume stringing up his garland in front of you, “is occupied. Go on.” 

James grumbles, but sets down his work. 

“Sorry,” you say, making your eyes extra big. It’s half sincere apology, half completely unapologetic beguilement, and James cracks quickly, kissing your cheek to show he’s not really upset. Then he kisses Sirius too, just for fun. 

“I wanted a hot chocolate anyway,” he says, heading into the kitchen. 

You fall into an easy silence as he works, the kettle gurgling in the background while you relax against Sirius’ chest, nearly finished with your garland. You wonder if you should offer to do his for him, even though you know the other two will definitely make fun of you for letting him off the hook. You think you will anyway. 

“Oh!” Sirius straightens, causing you to shift against him uncomfortably. He ignores the slighted look you send him, bringing a hand to your shoulder to hold you more securely against him. You’re easily pacified. “If you want to have a competition, you and y/n should have a race for who can wrap the most presents.” He looks at you. “You’re always saying you love wrapping, yeah sweetheart?” 

The endearment only slightly softens the look you’re giving him. Must everyone try to ruin your holiday rituals with racing and competitions? You know he’s only brought it up out of selfishness, too; Sirius hates wrapping gifts, and this is just another way for him to push the labor off on James and you. 

James, unfortunately, lights brighter than the tree you’d set up earlier that day. “Yeah!” He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet. Remus eyes the boiling water he’s pouring out at the same time warily. “What do you say, lovie? Maybe a couple of days before Christmas we can divvy up the presents that aren’t for us, then we just see who finishes first!” 

“Didn’t you already lose that competition the other night?” Remus quips. Sirius erupts in laughter behind you, but James only shoots him a hostile look (or his version of a hostile look, more of a squint than anything) before his eyes flit back to you hopefully. 

You roll your eyes, but this is one competition you think you might actually win. “Fine,” you say, smiling when he pumps his fist. “But I don’t think you know what you’re getting into, Potter. My gift wrapping skills are legendary.” 

“Oh, my love,” James croons, grinning as he carries in two mugs of hot chocolate. “My sweet, naive girl.” He passes one to Remus and the other to you, dropping a kiss on your temple. “I won’t go easy on you this time.”

[mochatsin]

MC as a Dating Sim Character

An AU in which the seven brothers knew you as a dating sim character from a game they love to play so much. Has nearly the same functions as the Obey Me app. 

It started off as a trend in Devildom, a new app that a lot of citizens and RAD students play with recently. Great reviews when it came to the storyline and the characters. The brothers gave it a shot and surprisingly became attached to it. The reason? You.

Levi is the first to fall down that rabbit hole because he’s been waiting for this game’s release for a while now. He saw the roster of dating sim candidates and he fell for you first. Something about your design was alluring to him and when he finally had the app downloaded, he spent the first night playing the storyline to understand you. Learning your lore is what made him fall even harder to the point he has a shelf dedicated to your merch. He grinded so hard to upgrade all your cards (he definitely got those UR and UR+ ones)

Asmo started playing when he saw the trends about it and he wanted to jump on that bandwagon. Play the game and talk about the characters, which ones he like and whatnot right? It was easy, but when it came to your character he found himself playing on the game longer than he wants to admit. His fans can immediately tell whose Asmo’s favorite character is with how much he talked about you in his videos. He makes sure to get all the pretty skins that get released because in his opinion, there’s not a single outfit that doesn’t look good on you. 

Mammon plays the game as well when he attempted to sneak into Levi's room to sell something and ended up finding his brother’s merch of you. Mammon doesn’t want to admit how many hours he’s spent on the game trying to max out the affection level with you. Definitely spent so much money to get the UR cards since he can’t grind as much as Levi does, and he’ll buy those limited gifts to hear those special voice lines from you.

Satan gets curious and downloads it because he’s wondering how good was this game to even make Mammon lessen his casino gambling habits. The storyline is great, but the writing for your character was what made Satan stay in the game. He doesn’t hesitate in approaching Levi to ask about the game mechanics and tips, and Satan has it covered from there. He focuses on the story to get as much lore he could out of you. He wants to learn about every single fact about his favorite character. 

The twins played at the same time, and it’s funny how they both ended up liking the same character. They found out when they were playing the game together and saw you were their home screen character. Beel loves listening to your voice lines while he works out to motivate himself, while Belphie always has your voice lines wishing him goodnight that he uses to fall asleep with. 

Lucifer will never tell anyone that he plays the game. Not as much as his brothers though, this is something he wants to do in his free time or when he’s alone in his private study, he’s more casual about this than others. Your character is honestly pleasant company, it’s nice to hear you cheer him on while he works. Though he’s sure that if his brothers knew he found comfort in a dating sim character, they would mock him for sure (even if they’re all the same).

Though something weird happens one day when all users log in the app. Levi is practically screaming when he runs out of the room with distraught in his face. You’re his home screen character, but for some odd reason you’re not where you’re supposed to be. He thought maybe it’s the game being laggy, but you don’t reappear no matter how many times he refreshes the app. 

The brothers are just in shock, phones on the table during breakfast to check what was going on exactly. Your cards are all glitched out and corrupted, though everyone else’s was fine. People are wondering if this was all part of the game, if there’s some sort of event or what but there’s nothing. It’s like the game actively tried to erase you.

The devs eventually released a statement that due to some complications and unforeseen circumstances, the game will be deleted. Of course a lot of people are outraged, why would the devs suddenly discontinue the game in the middle of its peak? It was gaining a lot of attention and some people have already spent so much money for it. Everything was just unfair when there’s no answers.

Despite any attempts to keep the game, it was somehow deleted from everyone’s phone. Levi only has some of his screenshots and recordings to keep, whining from time to time as he looks longingly on his merch line. Some brothers sulk more than others, though they’re all upset regardless. Why you? Why did it have to be you specifically? You suddenly disappeared from the game, and they never knew why. With the game gone, there doesn’t seem to be a way for them to get their answers. 

Satan wanted to use his connections to figure out the truth, try to find the devs to get the answers everyone is looking for. The truth seemed much more disappointing for Satan though, learning that the devs actually didn’t know either where your character went. They thought it was a virus at first, but all your data was just missing. No matter how hard they tried to fix it, there was nothing they could do. They can’t handle running a faulty game, so they chose to discontinue and start fresh. 

Some fans would probably be thrilled to hear a new game already in the works, but it doesn’t feel the same. You’re the character that these brothers were invested in. There’s just something about you and your charms that had them drawn in the game, so the brothers weren’t exactly excited hearing about the new set of characters. Clearly it upsets the demons.

That’s until Lucifer called the brothers to Diavolo’s castle, as there’s some sort of emergency that requires their attention. Lucifer drags each and every one of their brothers out of their rooms, they can pout and whine about you later. 

Diavolo called in all of them, talking about that dating game that took Devildom by storm once. No matter how hard they tried to hide it, the young prince knew that each and everyone of them were playing it. They’re all embarrassed at being caught, but surely they’re not here just to be exposed by Diavolo right? He says that an unexpected guest has been found in Devildom recently, bringing the boys to a room in a castle.

There you are, standing in the room in front of the seven demons that are staring at you with awe. You’re here… in Devildom? At first they thought you were just some cosplayer, but the way you introduced yourself and your name was the same as the one in the game. There’s no way you’re real, but all the evidence is standing right in front of them. 

Diavolo says that he’s entrusting you in the care of the seven demon brothers. Barbatos somehow knew that you were all of their favorites, so they probably know what you like and how to take care of you. Maybe it would be a good idea. 

To be continued… i think?

[witheredoffherwitch]

Y'ALL CAN EXCUSE RACISM?

Let's get one thing straight: I have no part in this chaotic mess (infact, I have blocked all the accounts mentioned below), but it's grinding my gears how it's devolving into another petty fanfic drama: case 607. I know this drama is getting the attention for certain individuals who are demonstrating mean girl behaviour and gossiping about other writers behind their backs. However, I am solely focused on addressing the racist and discriminatory remarks made by these individuals in the leaked text messages.

For those not in the loop, there's been a huge drama in the fanfic community involving leaked text messages from a group chat of four prominent members. In these messages, two users - Fae and Bel - have admitted to sending hate anons and talking smack about other writers behind their backs. Two other members left the group after it was revealed that B tried to make amends with someone who these two, Em and Ange, don't particularly care for. As a move to clear their names, Em exposed all the texts, trying to prove that Fae and Bel are the real villains here.

But wait, there's more! In these same chats, Bel not only mocked fellow non-English speakers but also bragged about sending rat emojis to an 18-year-old Pakistani writer who was already receiving racist anons. While everyone is focused on getting back at these two women for being shady af, it's mind-boggling how Em and Ange are suddenly jumping on the anti-racism train.

These two ladies stayed in the same chat as a fellow Pakistani writer was driven away because of racism, knowing full well that one of their own was contributing to it, and said NOTHING! Zero discouragement, no condemnation - they only hopped off when things got personal.

So here it is… I've had it with all of you hypocrites. You praise and encourage these women at every turn, feeding their egos like they're the second coming of Beyonce. But let's not forget who's always stirring up drama in this fandom - hint: it's these same people with a sense of entitlement the size of a planet. The issue is groupthink and y'all have all jumped on the bandwagon. You're worse than HBO's marketing department because just like their shitty teams, everyone involved here SUCKS ASS. You don't have to pick a side because they are all petty, mean losers. Bel and Fae are facing the consequences of their actions, which they rightfully deserve.

However, Em's exposé on Bel's racism seems more like an opportunistic move and it's disappointing that so many of you are supporting it. It's a predictable cycle now; there will be a half-hearted apology, an announcement of a hiatus, and then tons of people will flock to their inboxes to shower them with praise and excuses. It's ridiculous! I know there are many who feel the same way as me but are afraid to speak up because they don't want to upset the "village elders" and risk losing their connections and engagements. It's a joke atp!

Instead of taking responsibility for their own wrongdoings, they will come up with a list of 10 different cyber crimes by others to divert attention from their own nonsense. These very same women have confessed to creating multiple fake accounts, secretly stalking servers without mods noticing, and constantly harassing individuals through anon messages.

Yet, we are supposed to consider them as examples of moral integrity and ethical behavior? 😒

[shinobicyrus]

One thing my brain keeps going back to about Pacific Rim (besides the rad giant robots) is the whole existence of kaiju organ harvesters and their implications.

Like, you have Hannibal Chau, a bizarre and interesting character, but we’re presented with a black market operation that seems mostly interested in the “alternative medicine” uses of kaiju parts.

But my brain demands to know: what does the corporate kaiju harvesting industry look like? Sure kaiju blood is toxic, but there are plenty of toxic materials that have useful applications. Are there chemical companies studying kaiju organs? Big-Pharma jumping on the kaiju bone-powder bandwagon? Are bio-tech firms studying kaiju hide to make tougher materials? Agribusinesses clamoring to acquire kaiju crap for fertilizer?

I’m picturing something like the age of whaling, when humans hunted giant animals and carved them up to feed insatiable industries. Whale-oil lighting lanterns for entire cities, whale-bone being used in everything from knick-knacks, tools, umbrellas, and corsets. Ambergris alone was used in perfumes, medicines, cooking. It was even added to wine as an aphrodisiac.

We glimpsed how kaiju affected pop-culture. Now picture a kaiju smashing a city, but the stock market going up for construction companies (rebuilding the cities), vulture real estate (buying the destroyed land cheap), and all the other corporations that profit from the systematic dismantling of a kaiju corpse and making money off of its parts. Sure, a city was roughed up and who knows how many thousands are dead, but it’s a better windfall when a kaiju makes landfall. It’s always less profitable when jaegers kill them too quickly; sea-based extractions are so much more expensive.

Imagine entire industries, entire economies that don’t just make money from the devastation of kaiju attacks, but grow dependent on them. And then the laws, the squabbles over those valuable, resource-rich kaiju corpses. If a kaiju attacks one country but keeps rampaging and is killed in the country next door, who has claim over the body? The party who was damaged more by it or the country where the corpse physically is? Bidding wars over “cleanup” contracts that cut corners and are only interested in collecting those sweet, sweet, kaiju parts as fast as possible, even if their official mandate is supposed to be the safe removal and cleanup of a toxic substance.

Once jaegers started getting efficient at killing kaiju, the people with all the money became less interested in solving the problem of kaiju attacks and switched to merely managing the industries that kaiju-killing feeds.

What? You want to put more resources into R&D to try and close the Breach? Whatever for? The kaiju comes out, jaegers kill it, and the “host country” gets the proceeds from the kaiju’s body. It’s a win-win for everyone. Why waste time, money, and effort solving a problem that isn’t a problem anymore?

Everything is under control.

[g1rld1ary]

new release ; luke patterson x fem!reader

➻ synopsis: you'd been playing julie and the phantom's new album on repeat all day before luke comes knocking on your door, and you end up going to dinner with your favourite band

➻ word count: 2515

➻ content: she/her pronouns for reader

➻ wrote this on a whim tonight so enjoy my first luke fic lol !!

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You tapped your fingers impatiently against your desk, willing Spotify to reload quicker, visualising the album you knew was dropping in two minutes. Finally, after 120 seconds that could have been an hour, Julie and the Phantom’s new album was out and available, and you actually might’ve been the first person to listen to it.

You’d been following Julie and the Phantoms since their very first performance was put on YouTube. Admittedly you’d been hopping on the bandwagon — your friends had been raving about it at school and force-fed you their songs, but you’d been genuinely addicted to their music ever since.

Pressing play on the new album you got up, leaving it to play as you began on your errands for the day. You danced around your apartment, putting away the washing and vacuuming and humming along to the singles that had already been released.

Luke was on his way home from his morning run when he could have sworn he could hear his own voice. Stopping, he pulled an earbud out of his ear, looking around for the source of the music. And there, on the third floor, was you. You were out on the balcony, organising the cute set of outdoor furniture you’d shoved in there and dancing ridiculously to Luke’s personal favourite song of the album. He let out a quiet laugh to himself, admiring the carefree way you jumped around, miming the chorus you’d learnt into a can of what appeared to be bug spray. He smiled once more before heading into the building, musing about the odds of having a Phantoms fan live on his floor.

Back up in his apartment he could still hear the music, both your open windows making it sound clear despite not being obnoxiously loud. Luke just shook his head, heading straight to the shower and turning on his own music so he didn’t have to be victim to his own voice all day.

An hour later, you were still listening. You’d just finished the album and evidently wanted to commit it to memory before the day was through. Luke thought it was adorable, and he could feel the gratitude flowing through every inch of him. This was why he wrote music, to resonate with people and make them happy. Plus, now that he knew the cute girl who’d just moved into the apartment opposite him liked his band, he figured he could build up some confidence to talk to you.

Morning turned to afternoon, and you were still playing his album. Luke was flattered, but in slight disbelief. He couldn’t believe you weren’t sick of it yet, though he supposed you didn’t get the same ick he did when listening to his voice. Hearing you learning the words was another bonus, your voice floating in through his kitchen window as he cooked. He thought it was lovely, though far from professional. It was an unreal experience hearing your disembodied voice stumbling through the lyrics, making up ones you’d evidently misheard and improvising your own riffs on top of Julie’s.

Luke wondered whether it was possible to develop a crush on someone based on just their voice. Yeah he thought you were cute the few times he’d seen you coming or going through his street facing window, but your laughter when your voice cracked had him weak in the knees.

When you were still playing his music by four o’clock — you’d branched out to mixing in the rest of their discography by then — he was a little worried for your sanity. Flattered and grateful for the streams, but concerned all the same. At the same time he was worried for himself. He’d offered to host his band and friends for a private celebration of the album release after the official party the night previous, and he thought it may be a little on the nose if you were still streaming their music into the night. He could already hear Alex making fun of him for living next to a fangirl (he did secretly hope you were a fangirl of him though).

So, whilst it wasn’t exactly the meet-cute he’d hoped for, Luke found himself knocking on your door. He knocked again shyly when he heard you turn down the volume, clearly trying to see if you’d heard right. A few soft footsteps on the other side of the door and it was cracking open, your curious expression greeting him. You’d only just moved in and didn’t know anyone to be visiting.

Luke watched you go through the seven stages of grief in real time. Confusion at an unexpected visitor, recognition of him, and then a million shades of humiliation as you realised you’d been listening to his music all day and he could hear. God, you probably looked like an obsessed fangirl (you were, but you didn’t want Luke Patterson to know that). With an embarrassed sound coming from the back of your throat, you asked Luke to give you twenty seconds of privacy. He agreed politely and you shut the door quickly. Slapping a hand to your mouth, you let out a silent scream, trying to let out all your anxious, embarrassed energy as quickly as possible, shaking your limbs about so you could stand still when you inevitably had to grovel for forgiveness to Luke.

Reopening your door, you were taken aback by how at ease Luke looked. And how much hotter he was in person, but you tried to push that thought to the back of your head for the sake of coherent conversation.

“Hi,” You said, resisting the urge to ramble out apologies.

“Hi,” He replied with that stupidly charming grin he wore in all his publicity shoots. “I’m Luke.”

“I know.” Fuck, you didn’t mean to say that. “Um, obviously. I’m sure you’ve heard all the…” You gestured inside to your apartment where his album was still playing quietly. You should’ve turned it off.

“Please don’t be embarrassed, it’s really cute.” Now your blush was for a totally different reason, your favourite singer was calling you cute? You had to be dreaming.

“Is there something I can do for you?” You asked, still unsure of the purpose of the visit, though you weren’t complaining.

“Oh!” Luke looked as if he really had forgotten why he’d come, but covered himself with an easy laugh, “I was just wondering if you could turn down your music a bit? It’s not too loud or anything, it’s not bothering me! It’s just, I’m having the band over tonight and as much as we’re all proud of the album, it feels a bit conceited to have it playing as we hang out privately, y’know?” You were nodding vigorously before he could finish his sentence, spilling out apologies for even playing it in the first place.

“Seriously don’t apologise,” He assured you, catching your eye in a way that made you feel like you couldn’t look away (not that you would’ve wanted to), “I really appreciate you being a fan and supporting us.” In that moment, entranced in his deep honey eyes, you honestly would have done whatever Luke Patterson asked of you, you were completely his. Maybe your parasocial relationships needed some examining.

Forcing yourself to end the moment despite your internal desires, you averted your eyes to the floor and Luke coughed slightly, both of you somewhat dazed.

“Right, well, it was really nice meeting you. Big fan. Guess I’ll see you around?” You said awkwardly, stepping back inside the threshold of your flat. Luke nodded in the same manner, and you were about to shut the door when he called for you to wait.

“Do you wanna come over later? You can meet the band, and it’s always helpful to make some friends in the building. I, uh, know you’re new here.” You nodded, more than surprised, but you sure as hell weren’t gonna turn down this opportunity.

“Yeah, that sounds nice. Thanks.” Luke named a time and you parted ways, neither of you catching the backwards glances you both chanced.

Inside your apartment was a whirlwind of stress. What did you wear for a dinner with your favourite band with an hour’s notice? You might’ve actually tried on half your wardrobe before deciding on your favourite jeans (maybe the ones that made your ass look impeccable, but who’s to say?) and a simple top. It wasn’t the most exciting outfit you could have come up with, not by a long shot, but you didn’t want to make a single wrong decision tonight. All you needed to do was be completely perfect and impress Julie and the Phantoms and maybe get Luke to like you back. Easy stuff.

By the time you were meant to be going you’d managed to do your makeup in a way that didn’t make you want to cry — why did it always turn out awful when you needed it to be good? Slipping your favourite hoops into your ears you were ready, and gave yourself a quick pep talk in the bathroom mirror. You’d never been one for those self-love affirmations, but they couldn’t hurt, right?

When Luke opened the door and his face broke into one of those smiles that lit up the building’s corridor, your nerves quieted themselves somewhat. He swept you under one of his arms leading you further into the apartment as if you’d been friends for years. You tried to take in what you could, and were a little jealous of how nicely his place was decorated — yours was still loaded with boxes and junk.

“Guys, meet my new friend!” Luke announced, and all the heads in the room snapped towards you.

“Um, hi,” You said meekly, remembering to tell them all your name.

“She’s new to the building and I thought it would be nice for her to make some friends!” You smiled internally — Luke had the same personality as in all the interviews you watched, which made you glad. You didn’t know what you would do if he wasn’t all that you imagined.

The night started out a little awkward, at least for you. You were so stressed about making a good impression that you felt a little robotic, answers calculated to try and get the most amount of laughs or agreements. Luke noticed this and gestured for you to take the seat between him and Julie when the meal was served, figuring you’d have the most in common with her, and he was more than happy to talk your ear off if the opportunity arose.

“So, why’d you come to California?” Julie asked, and you explained that you’d moved for school, but it was cheaper to rent the flat than live in the dorms. That in itself was an easy avenue into talking about your roommate who was never around and the classes you were taking this semester. When you asked about Nick, who was sitting on Julie’s other side, he happily joined the conversation to talk about how they got together just after the Phantoms began to get world famous and their (first) show at the Orpheum.

The dinner was loud and messy, and you began to feel right at home. With Reggie flicking beans at Alex, and Luke’s boisterous laughter ringing over conversation, there was a familial ambience to it all.

After the meal the group migrated towards the TV, and you found yourself next to Luke again, sandwiched between him and Willie, who introduced himself as Alex’s boyfriend. You recognised him from Alex’s Instagram, but you left that fact out. You found yourself making easy conversation with them, being the four who got Luke’s couch, whilst the others made themselves at home in armchairs and other seats scavenged from around the flat.

As you spoke to the couple about a restaurant in LA they were recommending, you felt a hand land on your thigh. A glance in his direction showed it was Luke’s, of course, but if his expression was anything to go by he was all but unaware, still speaking passionately to Nick about something. You tried to conceal your blush as your turned back to the gays, but the knowing looks had you hiding your face in your hands.

A movie was turned on and the chatter dulled somewhat, turned down to whispers over the dialogue. You didn’t know how you’d ended up cuddled up into Luke’s side, but you were absolutely not complaining. His arm on the back of the sofa had migrated to sitting around your waist at one point, and you were really hoping he couldn’t feel your racing heartbeat. An accidental glance in Julie’s direction showed her and Nick wiggling their eyebrows suggestively, to which you simply made a bewildered expression, hoping it conveyed how little idea you had of what was going on. Unbeknownst to you, Luke was fighting the same losing battle with the rest of the boys, who were making childish kissy faces when you weren’t looking. Luke handled it better than you, merely shrugging as if to say ‘she’s cute — what do you want me to do?’

A few hours later and the night was winding down. You took your leave after Reggie, not wanting to risk overstaying your welcome and jeopardising the friendships you hoped you were making. The remaining guests all gave you warm goodbyes, begging for you to come back again. Julie even swept you into a tight hug, making you promise you’d DM her to go out for coffee soon. Luke walked you to the door, a gentle hand on the small of your back not going unnoticed by his friends.

“Thanks for coming tonight, I’m really glad we met,” He said, and his shyer tone caught you off guard, but made you smile nonetheless.

“Thank you for inviting me,” You countered, “It was really sweet of you to introduce me to all your friends.” Luke waved it off like it was nothing, which you were sure to him it was.

“Can I see you again soon?” He asked, suddenly looking remarkably like a little puppy.

“I’m only a door away,” You grinned, “You can see me whenever you like. Hey, congrats again on the album. I’d say it’s pretty good.” When you pressed a kiss to his cheek and bade him goodnight, Luke couldn’t have resisted his cheesy grin if he’d tried.

“I love being a rockstar,” He said when he returned to his friends.

“Shut up, man,” Replied Alex, “You’re too whipped to claim any rockstar benefits on this one.”

[byhees]

swept me off my feet.

엔하이픈 형선 ・ female reader + word count 600 genre fluff established relationship warnings not proof-read kissing skinship — more

a/n. hyung line brain-rot… ><

heeseung

a very classic pick-up line user; honestly, he just keeps getting better and better at them. at first, they were a little sloppy, clumsy even. now? he just knows the right ways to put his pretty eyes and charming smile to good use; “your hand looks lonely. can i hold it for you?” he’d ask, hands lightly resting on your hipbones as he engulfs you in a back hug. and when you spin around to meet his gaze, he just has the sweetest of smiles glued onto his face, his hand outstretched in your direction.

would lightly pull you close to his side by tugging on the loop of your pants; he’s just so incredibly swift with it, it barely even processes in your head. would lean over you, eyes trained on your face— albeit his gaze does flicker from your eyes, to your lips, every so often; “may i?” he’d whisper, his face inches away from yours, his warm breath lightly fanning your skin.

jongseong

is such an observant person; is always sure to cover the corners of sharp counters when he spots you bending down to pick something up. his hand just instinctively cups the edge of said countertops, giving you a little buffer for when you do, predictably, bump your head into the back of his palm; offers you his shoulder to lie your head on, knowing how uncomfortable it must be to doze off in such a rigid position; does so even without much hesitation or prompting— it just comes so naturally to him.

when he presses little pecks all over your face after an affectionate kiss; is, unexpectedly, really clingy when it comes to you. even from the way he pulls you close by your waist tells heaps about how much he doesn’t want for such a moment to stop; even as you both are pulling away from each other, his fingertips lightly graze your skin, as though to indicate how much he wishes for a few minutes more with you.

jaeyun

is so chronically online, to the point where he’s made aware of all the trends flooding social media; tries one where he cluelessly points to a supposed object behind you, a fake, surprised “what’s that?” falling from his lips. and when you’d turn back to face him, brows furrowed in pure confusion, he’d catch your chin between his fingers, a tiny smirk toying on his lips.

when he peppers your face with lazy kisses in the early mornings; waking up next to one another, limbs messily entangled, arms draped over the other’s sides; he’d shift a little closer to you, propping himself up on an elbow to press sweet pecks on your skin; absolutely adores your slightly unkempt bed-hair, the way your eyes flutter open in response to his kisses, the small smile you send him when you realise his endearing gestures.

sunghoon

is so heavily influenced by social media trends— not exactly on the bandwagon, but still keeping up with the popular ones; does things like interlocking fingers with you, and lightly raising your intertwined hands above your head, indirectly pining you against a wall; his eyes are widened ever so slightly, lips parted— had he expected for this to actually work? no, not really; his breath hitches from the close proximity, and he can’t help but to lean forward, his lips softly brushing against yours.

when he lies his head on your lap, eyes blinking up to meet your gaze; likes to trace little shapes on your arm, the pads of his fingers brushing against your skin— occasionally fiddles with your fingers, often times interlinking them with his own; simply admires how pretty you look, especially whilst concentrating; might even boop the tip of your nose, gaze brimming with adoration.

taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @vnsux @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 @lilly-bubblelops @smouches @mrchweeee @luvistqrzzz @nwjws @ibsysbsfsunsbs @rikisly @amyysfics @mixtape-racha @berry-and-kkami networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels

[cynicalmusings]

i feel like heizou’s the kind of person whom, before you get to know him personally, you would hear a lot of negative gossip, comments, etc. about — he’s arrogant, cocky, weird, turns his nose up at the rules when he feels like it, bunks classes when they don’t suit him… you try not to judge him too much solely based on hearsay, but neither does he strike you as the kind of guy you’d be that interested in getting to know.

and then you run into this guy one day. you haven’t seen him before, but he’s kind, funny, and terribly clever, so you ask him his name. and he tells you, and you’re like… oh. this person is really lovely and nothing like what people say? but, you suppose, there could be more to him than meets the eye, and it’s possible these negative traits become apparent the more you get to know him.

you start to hang out more, finding more out about each other, and still none of those infamous traits jump out at you. sure, he’s a little chaotic sometimes, somewhat sly at others, not too concerned with social norms, and talks his ‘intuition’ up a lot, but there’s nothing inherently harmful about any of these things. he’s just a… really nice guy who’s not totally conventional, and for that reason he’s getting shit-talked behind his back.

as you grow closer (whether that be as friends or something else), the rumours start to get on your nerves. he doesn’t seem bothered whatsoever by the negative reputation he’s built up, yet you can’t help but feel this frustration that he’s the victim of these inaccurate judgements, even if he himself doesn’t care. he can tell it’s bothering you, and reassures you he really doesn’t mind it—as long as the people he truly cares about see him positively, he doesn’t mind about how good or bad he is to the rest—but it’s still hard to simply sit by and let these things be said, some by people you know/ are acquainted with.

(this isn’t exactly an x reader drabble as much as it is how i imagine heizou’s reputation in-game translating into a modern setting. i find this unfortunate rumour-spreading happens quite a lot in real life to people who… seem totally normal and decent? there are some people i know—not necessarily ones i’m close to, but friends of friends and that kind of thing—who have these kinds of things said about them, and it’s honestly quite tiring overhearing it sometimes and feeling like you’re one of the only ones who hasn’t jumped on the bandwagon and is aware that the object of the gossip isn’t as bad as they’re made out to be.

(the nature of gossip is quite interesting to me in that regard — how people can be so interested in talking bad about someone they barely know. but that same fact is also very irritating to me, and i feel like something similar to these feelings would arise if heizou received similar treatment, which, judging by what even some of the other playable characters say about him, i believe would be the case.)

[redeyerhaenyra]

Dom!Steven and Bimbo!reader headcanons

Summary: You're a bimbo, but you're not inexperienced. Steven Grant is an obvious sub... right?

Warnings: oh the filthiest smut, vaginal fingering, overstim, kinda mean dom!Steven but not really, squirting, multiple orgasms, reader faints, titty play (if you squint), reader is described as dim, stupid, but she's nice.

Notes: For @cosmicblogs xxx we are hopping on the bimbo reader bandwagon FR!

So picture this: You're a bimbo girlie. You adore anything pink and sparkly, cute and fluffy, ect. Your nail are always perfectly manicured and your outfits always steal the show. Your ditsy, and sweet, and thoroughly enjoying your date with giftshopist Steven Grant.

This was your 3rd date, or rather the tail end of it. Steven had invited you over, and you, being the innocent, unassuming thing you were, agreed with a smile.

Under no circumstance would you have assumed Steven had less than safe for work intentions. Besides..

He was a sub. It was obvious.

Eventually though, you made your way back to his flat- Steven scratched the back of his head, and flushed a little as you squealed about how "cute" his homestead was.

Steven had worn tight jeans to your date today, he had hoped you might be into how fit they made his ass look- you didn't seem to be noticing much though. Not that you ever did.

He didn't like to admit it, but it was the truth. You were.. a little dim, at best. He still loved you, and wouldn't change you for the world.

Sometimes he wondered if there was anything between your ears, or if your brainspace was totally occupied by pink sparkles and high heels.

An hour or so later, you both were curled up together on the sofa- Steven had turned on some random documentary on thr history channel, and had to keep himself from laughing everytime you expressed geniune awe at things most people learned when they were children.

"You're so smart Steven." You had said, without a hint of irony, when he'd corrected you that WW2 had infact come after WW1.

It made his heart swell, you were so adorably dumb.

It also made his dick twitch, you were amazed by him, willing to offer him endless ego boosts. Something not many people were.

Steven's eyes raked over your body, god you looked delicious.

You wore pink, obviously. But the way that dress hugged your body... Steven felt his dick twitch again, his eyes fixating over your breasts.

He'd bet your nipples were so sensitive, and if he closed his eyes he could almost imagine how they'd taste...

"Steven?"

Your voice broke him out of his dick-brained stupour-

"Yes darlin'?" "You're like, totally out of it. Shall I like, leave? Like, you look totally tired."

Awe. You thought he was tired.

"No no, love, 's alright, c'mere-"

Steven gently tugged you closer to him, now having you laid on your stomach against his chest.

You nestled there comfortably, and hummed as Steven kissed your head.

He looked down, from this angle he could spy just how juicy your bum was.

His hands twitched.

Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

Steven decided to test the waters, just a wee bit.

Slowly, he traversed his hand down your back, smoothing over your dress. You cuddled into him further, and so did Steven go further.

His hand now teased the hem of your dress, before reaching in to gently caress the apex of your thighs.

You moaned softly, stretching upwards like a cat- "Steven, that like, feels good."

He had never heard you so breathless before, "Yeah?" You moaned again, as his hand travelled a little lower to rub the pad of his fingers against your hole.

Your hips jerked, and you buried your face into his chest to hide your embarrassment as Steven's touches became more and more confident.

This wasn't how this was supposed to go! Steven was a sub, surely! Your tiny, bimbo brain couldn't comprehend him taking control over you like this.

He pinched your clit through your panties- no doubt also pink- the texture of which had you keening.

Steven rubbed your little bud between his fingers until you were drooling on his shirt, pleasure rolling through you in hot waves.

You expected him to stop now, flip you over and stuff you with his cock until he came, you were certainly wet enough-

But he didn't. His fingers kept working you until you came, hot white bliss, and then some.

The pressure from his fingers waned, but didn't stop, not even as he shifted, sitting up and pulling you into his lap, where you felt the heat of his cock pressed up beneath you.

He heard you whimper, and he kissed you neck.

His hands just didn't stop though, even as they dextrously moved your panties aside, finally plunging two of his thick fingers deep inside you, they just kept moving.

Stroking you inside in all the right spots, all the right points that made you cry out, legs twitching.

It wasn't long before you felt another shattering orgasm approaching you.

The only sounds to be heard in the flat now, (TV having turned itself off long ago) were your breathless cries, the wet squelching of Steven's hand against your cunt, and his soothing voice whispering into your ear;

"Yeah, 's good yeah? Feels good?" "S-steven-" "Yeah.. I bet it feels so good, dunnit? Hmm? So good you can't even speak, huh? No? It's that good, sweetheart? So good my baby's tiny is just fit to burst, huh? Can't fit nothing else in there?" He tapped your skull with his free hand, "Nothing else but me in there, ain't that right?"

You wanted to protest, a little peeved that he'd just insinuated, accurately, how stupid you were- but no words came you. Only pathetic, drooling moans and whines, both your hands digging into Steven's arm, leaving crescent shaped scars.

It didn't stop, not even as you came for the second, and third time, and even as the fourth built up.

At this point Steven had tugged your dress and bra down under you tits, and with his previously free hand rolled and squeezebox of them, and suckled hard on the other, gently teasing with his teeth.

You were a mess. Your mascara ran streaks down your face, thighs covered in your own juices and hair dishevelled and messy.

Past the point of moaning like you enjoyed it, you just full on cried now, sobbing and babbling whilst staring in awe at Steven's hands.

The electricity of climax was all you felt, and it was constant. So much, too much. It was the only thing you were aware of.

When the fourth and final one peaked, it was different. You threw your head back agaisnt Steven's shoulder, but not so far as to miss the torrent of liquid gushing from your core, twisting hard pleasure through your every vein.

Eventually the pleasure stopped, but you weren't aware of that either, having blacked out in a hazy, cum brained unconsciousness, still twitching ontop of your lover.

Steven finally pulled his hands from you, a little worried that you'd fainted, but he figured you'd come around soon.

He brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean- mmmmmmm, god, he'd have to taste you later. For now though, hed leave you be... you needed some sleep.

[anamericangirl]

The Israel vs Palestine conflict is such a long-spanning and insanely complicated thing that there's literally college courses that revolve entirely around the subject. There's people who have been studying it for 70 years who still barely understand it. There's historians with PhDs trying to piece together anything they can that could help them figure out a means to potentially instill a ceasefire or even peace altogether who have failed time and time again for decades if not literally centuries.

And yet people with 7 years of Twitter experience think they know enough about the conflict to pick a side and vouch for the destruction of the opposite side.

The amount of times I want to say "Shut the fuck up you fucking stupid idiot, you know literally nothing about this conflict, you have no idea what's actually happening, I bet if I asked your opinion on the Two State Solution you wouldn't even have a fucking clue what that means" on a daily basis reading these actual braindead moronic 16yo Twitter users' dipshit opinions who keep citing celebrity blue-checkmark Twitter posts as evidence to vouch for the eradication of a middle eastern country they don't even know a fucking thing about is STAGGERING.

I'm in my mid-30s and I stay out of politics on all sides because I am not qualified in any way to form opinions on matters so serious that they may or may not result in people being killed, and it fucking pisses me off that people half my fucking age are telling me that I should support Palestine or Ukraine or vouch for the genocide of Israel or join ANTIFA or BLM or put #FreeTaiwan in my fucking twitter bio.

You actual braindead stupid fucking morons have absolutely no clue what any of these conflicts actually mean, none of them have anything to do with you, go back to bitching about girls in video games being too sexy and shut the fuck up about actual real conflicts because you're a fucking moron if you think you know anything about what you claim you're in support of.

I swear to God if I see one more Twitch player playing Fortnite ranting about the Israel Palestine conflict and telling people that donations during their stream go to Palestine, Ukraine, Taiwan and LGBT activism centers, I'm gonna go feral. It is so unbelievably belittling to people who have spent their entire life researching and educating themselves on these conflicts to be able to build an understanding, that a dipshit who collects loli bestiality porn and plays Metroid Prime on Twitch thinks he's on the same level as those researchers.

PREACH! It's so fucking annoying how everyone suddenly thinks they're experts on this conflict when before October 7, 2023 none of them even knew it was happening and they're just cringey ass brain dead parrots saying what they're supposed to say without doing their due diligence to at least get somewhat informed on the matter before boycotting Starbucks, using hashtags and swapping the Ukraine flag for the Palestine flag and thinking they're doing something.

What really gets to me is when influencers I follow, like apolitical ones who are grown ass adults, jump on the bandwagon and are actually orchestrating fundraisers for Palestine and it makes me so fucking mad because they absolutely have no excuse for that. I just want to scream at them "hey! you know literally every cent you raise is going straight to Hamas and no Palestinian will ever get a single penny!! It's all going to buy weapons to kill Israeli civilians. YOU ARE LITERALLY FUNDING GENOCIDE AND TERRORISM YOU ABSOLUTE BUFFOON!!!" I don't have a shred of respect for people who talk about all the terrible things happening in Gaza but don't have a single word to say about the atrocities Hamas commits daily in Israel. Not one of them has condemned or even mentioned the attack on October 7th. Fuck every single one of them.

[ninyard]

i am a BIG supporter of create what you want for your own joy, so absolutely do what you would like to do for the trial!! no one should be pressuring you to do it a specific way unless that’s how you Want to do it.

but if you were asking about what we’d like… personally i would love to see the whole trial as much as possible (i really don’t want you to overwhelm yourself) especially for higgin’s and nicky’s parts!! i like when we see more than just Big Main Parts, especially bc you flesh it out so well <3 sometimes it’s even more hard hitting when it’s Not from the people we expect, you know?

also, thank you for making the socmed aus!! they make me giggle and kick my feet every time, and also wail in agony and clutch at my chest… you have the range <3

GOD i wrote a whole long ass response to this and i didn't realise until too late that my phone was going to die </3 and it died </3

But it was something along the lines of I'm really glad that the general consensus seems to be to do all five days of the trial, or however many days it ends up being, from start to finish. For me personally it'd feel unfinished if I skipped parts just to get to the ~interesting~ parts, and I think if I'm going to make something like this then I want to show it all.

It's not this deep, but I guess it's like... It's fucked up. People are making memes about a murder trial involving rape and other things that are just not funny at all. And skipping parts just to get to "GOD NEIL IS SO CHAOTIC ON THE STAND" or whatever feels,,, insensitive? Unjust?? I don't know

but people are also doing that shit in real life. About real people, real trials, with real victims and real perpetrators. Sensationalising trials just because it's a celebrity on the stand, or it's an "interesting" murder trial or whatever. People are making memes and jokes about them. And people are making their own minds up about the verdict because of it. I want to show people who think Aaron's guilty because of something the cop who arrested him said. I want to show people who think Andrew is an unreliable witness because of something Higgins says, somebody who thinks Aaron isn't guilty because a forensics team mentioned something about the crime scene that they don't think sounds right. I want to make this from the outsider view on the publics reaction to a trial, and specifically people who almost idolise Aaron, or Kevin, or Neil, or Andrew. People who don't see them as human, but as celebrities, as people who are supposed to be perfect. People who see a trial like this and think, "it's okay for me to make jokes about this, or to post about this, because they're just famous people. They're not like real people to me."

People are at home becoming twitter lawyers and making up their minds based on what they read or see online, and it almost separates the reality of the situation from the "characters" that people create out of defendants and victims. You see people hopping on bandwagons or hate trains or whatever when it comes to these kind of public trials. People making clips of something "funny" a lawyer or witness said for the sake of content. People making temporary celebrities out of the judge and jury and legal representation. For what? For likes?

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I want to show the different sides of how people actually react to trials like this without becoming insensitive to the fact that trials like this,,, do actually happen. But by making a fan tweet a joke about murder, I'm making that, I'm thinking of the words that go into the tweet. So it's tough. And again I know it's not that deep, but that's kind of... most of the reason why I've been putting it off? Because it's hard. It's hard not to feel like it sensationalises those kinds of things. It's hard not to feel like "God, am I just making fun of this situation here?" while also being reminded that yeah, maybe, but people actually react like that.

So is it worth the tumblr post to make memes and tweets out of something that happens irl, and affects real people? Is it insensitive, or is it just fandom stuff that isn't perceived in an insensitive way at all, because it is just that, a fandom post?

[leounderthemoon]

A rant and theory

It’s really long, but I think I make some valid points.

Supernatural was on for 15 years. There have been interactions with the cast, some crew, some producers, directors, writers, etc. due to the ongoing conventions and the existence of social media. Writers will talk about changes to scripts, actors will talk about filming, directors will talk about why they chose a certain angle.

Given that most of the fans/stans do not personally know any of the people involved or personally know anything about the things that are/aren’t going on, it’s weird the way some fans/stans speak so confidently about what happened with SPN behind-the-scenes, production, writing, casting, you name it! 

Especially when it comes to PrequelGate. People will state with their whole chest, that their version of events is absolutely correct. One J is an asshole, and one J is an innocent baby. Which J is which depends on who is talking. It can be either or both. The only thing that all fans who have theories have in common is that there is a definite good guy and a bad guy.

But the Js are still friends. They say they got over it and forgave. Since no one has given any details, I thought I’d join the bandwagon and come up with a theory of my own. One where there is no good guy/bad guy. So here goes.

I fully believe that the story of The Winchesters was not meant to be an AU. It was supposed to take place between 15.19 and 15.20, with Dean and Sam finding out about their parents.  They had to switch it to the AU version because of the leak, a new timetable, and the fact that Jared was no longer available. There is also a recent podcast (I don't have a link) where a writer from The Winchesters said that Robbie Thompson, the writer and show runner for The Winchesters, kind of knew that they were only going to get 1 season because of all the mergers/sales of the networks and studios.

Robbie Thompson said in an interview (https://tvline.com/news/the-winchesters-recap-season-1-finale-dean-heaven-multiverse-jensen-ackles-1234942742/)  “There was the spot that takes place in between Episodes 19 and 20, when what happens to Dean happens to Dean… So there was an opportunity to tell stories there, but that just didn’t work for me because we wouldn’t have access to Sam in that way, in a way that we could easily explain or at least emotionally explain, and that just didn’t feel like it was a story that certainly I wanted to tell and none of us did.” (Underlining mine) They wouldn’t have access to Sam because Jared could not be involved. Not because no one wanted him, but because he just couldn’t.

The reason I believe this is because of the following.

It starts with Virtual Con (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ADYwrZ787a0) held in March 2021. In the video, the question about Chaos Machine projects starts at around 23 minutes. Watch Jared’s face throughout Jensen’s whole answer. He’s nodding along, looking at his screen, and not even showing the slightest surprise in what Jensen is saying. He doesn’t because he already knows. To me, that is the face of someone who already knows what the other person is talking about. Jared already knows which projects Jensen is working on. He knows which alum he is talking about. So he just sits there and lets Jensen answer.  His quip at the end that he will also be acting in it is just that, a quip for the fans.  Because (supposedly) he is bound by a 5-year contract to CBS. He can not legally get involved in Jensen’s project with WB. He can acknowledge that he knows about it, but he has to show that he is absolutely not involved. 

Next is the announcement of The Winchesters in June 2021 by Deadline. There were tweets by Jared that said he was upset that he didn’t know about it and that he wasn’t involved. There was also a tweet directed at Robbie Thompson calling him a back stabber that was later deleted. And, silence from Jensen, because he was unable to come online and address anything because he was on set in Canada. 

Things were set in motion that were not meant to be put in motion for a while. I don’t think Chaos Machine was ready to start casting/filming yet. I think Jensen and Jared were trying to make it work with CBS so that Jared could be involved in the prequel. But those talks weren’t finished, or possibly even started yet. But the leak by Deadline, the WB/Discovery merger, and Mark Pedowitz leaving, combined to put pressure to do the show sooner, while Pedowitz was still in charge. If they waited, then nothing might come of Chaos Machine’s deal with WB once the new owners came in. Maybe they were waiting for Jensen to finish shooting The Boys to get together and talk about all this, but they still hadn't.

And this is what Jared was upset about. He thought there was time before the show would start, so was surprised that it was announced without him knowing. It also explains why he thought Robbie Thompson back-stabbed him. Because he was going to be a part of this show, and now he couldn’t. He couldn’t even say he had been part of the development from the beginning because it would be against his contract with CBS. He can’t even say wants to be a part of it now, because again, it would be against his contract with CBS. He’s upset, because he hasn’t had any communication from Jensen about this going through, and Jensen was also unreachable. So he vented online a little.

Once this narrative that Jared was never involved, and would not appear in it, spread, all of them had to run with it. Jensen apologized for not telling Jared. He said he was superstitious. He wanted to tell Jared, but he didn’t have his phone. That he was on set. That Jared couldn’t participate because he was busy. Etc. etc.

But, when Jared spoke with Jensen, and was (possibly) made aware that the news came out because it was leaked, and that they didn’t have time to clue Jared in, and (possibly) they were thinking of doing the show sooner because of WB, Pedowitz, Zaslav, etc., and that they were still in a holding phase, Jared forgave Jensen.

All of the above explains the inconsistencies and “lies” and “tantrums” and finally the forgiveness, and moving on. 

I choose to believe that neither Jared nor Jensen are entitled assholes. They do not owe the fans any BTS details.

I’m sure people can tear this apart, but their theories don’t hold up either.