#I'm technically investing money. you see.

[chqnified]

The feeling when you accidentally drop or rip an album

[oatmilk-vampire]

Steve Harrington needed hearing aids.

He wasn't born needing them. In fact, he was just about as healthy as a young man in his social class could be. But numerous head injuries eventually led to gradually worsening hearing loss, leading him to needing mostly useless hearing aids.

His damage was so severe he actually needed cochlear implants but his parents kicked him out of their house and off of their insurance plan when he got caught kissing his teammate back in high school. With his minimum wage job and splitting rent with his roommate Robin, he currently did not make enough money for such a luxury.

So he did the next best thing: he learned ASL.

It was free, other than his time invested, and Robin was the one to suggest it. After all, she was already fluent in five languages and had been in band for twelve years. If anyone could teach herself and a hard of hearing person to sign, it was Robin Buckley.

The only bad part was, they were the only two who seemed to know the damn language, leaving Steve to strain to hear or read lips lest he get (mostly) silently yelled at by some deranged customer.

So when he spotted a guy around his age with long, dark curly hair and perfectly round black glasses with side shields, he knew he had to act.

He knew what it was like to have people gloss over the fact that you exist, or even berate you for it; so he took a page out of Robin's book.

He learned braille.

Sure, technically Steve could still speak to the boy, but wouldn't it be more special if he could read what Steve wanted to say?

So he practiced and practiced until he was happy, bringing the card to work where his crush appeared to be a regular.

As Steve sees him walk in, he knows today's the day.

⠓⠊ ⠊ ⠁⠍ ⠎⠞⠑⠧⠑ ⠎⠕⠗⠗⠽ ⠊⠋ ⠞⠓⠊⠎ ⠊⠎ ⠺⠑⠊⠗⠙ ⠃⠥⠞ ⠊ ⠚⠥⠎⠞ ⠺⠁⠝⠞⠑⠙ ⠞⠕ ⠎⠁⠽ ⠽⠕⠥ ⠁⠗⠑ ⠗⠑⠁⠇⠇⠽ ⠉⠥⠞⠑ ⠁⠝⠙ ⠊ ⠺⠕⠥⠇⠙ ⠇⠊⠅⠑ ⠞⠕ ⠁⠎⠅ ⠽⠕⠥ ⠕⠥⠞ ⠕⠝ ⠁ ⠙⠁⠞⠑

Hi I am Steve sorry if this is weird but I just wanted to say you are really cute and I would like to ask you out on a date

Steve is giddy when he wanders over to the boy in dark clothes. He had on black jeans that are ripped at the knees, a Metallica band tee, a leather jacket, and a denim battle vest. He's perfect. He's hot.

Steve's footsteps must be louder than he expects because the object of his affection immediately turns in his direction.

"Hi," Steve greets as he presses the thick stock paper into his hands.

The boy angles his head down with a frown as he traces an index finger over the raised dots, before looking right at Steve behind those dark frames.

He takes them off, and Steve learns after so long that his eyes are brown.

"I'm sorry," his crush says, Steve recognizing those syllables easy enough, "But I can't read this. What is it you're trying to say?"

But now that response is too much, Steve can't keep up. All he knows is the card he worked so carefully punching little holes in with a special tool he had to buy was now being pushed back into his hands.

Steve doesn't try to answer, he just wants to get the hell away before his tears spill over, but a hand on his shoulder stops him in his tracks.

He tenses, squeezes his eyes shut and braces for impact, but when a familiar hit doesn't land on his face, he cautiously opens his teary eyes to find him staring right at Steve.

"Are you okay?" He asks, but Steve can't be quite sure if he's checking on him or asking if he's gay.

Steve's own frown appears on his face as he points to his ears.

"Can't hear too good."

His mouth drops open, rushing to spiel something Steve doesn't catch. He must realize this because he's taking Steve's card back from him now as he mimics writing something with raised eyebrows.

Steve nods his head, more confused that the guy he thought was blind seemed to be understanding him perfectly.

He fishes out the little pad of paper and pen he keeps with him for moments not quite like this, passing the two items over.

He scribbles for a moment before letting Steve read what he's written in big loopy letters.

Hi, I'm Eddie. Sorry, I can't read braille. What did you say?

Steve furrows his brows.

I thought you might know it. Aren't you blind?

Eddie shakes his head with a little smile.

The glasses? I have killer migraines. Never go anywhere without them.

Steve smacks himself in the face. He's been such a fool!

Eddie taps him to gain his attention once more before handing him the notepad and pen.

What did you say? I'd like to know :)

Steve worries his bottom lip.

Hi I'm Steve. Sorry if this is weird but I just wanted to say you're really cute and I would like to ask you out on a date

He's nervous as he hands it back, but Eddie's wide grin and eager nod does wonders to knock back those worries.

I thought you'd never ask, Steve.

[eddiezpaghetti]

It has come to my attention that SOME OF YOU who read my last Byler post remain UNCONVINCED. So I'm gonna tack onto it this:

I'm older than fucking God and air, and I've been out and proud since 2007. Yes, I know what homophobia is, and yes, I know what queerbaiting is. I know about Supernatural and Teen Wolf and Sherlock and blahdyblahdyblah. No new ground is being covered here. I thought I made that clear in the original post, but, clearly, I did not.

I am aware of queerbaiting and homophobia, and I'm still wholeheartedly certain in Byler being canon anyway.

Okay, so there are three types of relationship I want to discuss when it comes to queerbaiting. They're all, like, "queer relationships that could have happened, but didn't".

First off, queer-coding. This isn't really a thing so much anymore, but it still crops up every once in a while. I'd argue it probably happens most with male-male relationships in family shows these days. First example that comes to mind is Mr. Smiley and Mr. Frowny from Steven Universe. You can't make a relationship canon because some shitty overhead bastard overhead said no, so you get as close as you can without compromising the show. Can't make someone gay? Well, now their comedy routine is a blatant allegory for a romantic relationship. Boom-shaka-laka. This is something I don't see being a problem with regards to Stranger Things, but I want it to be there as contrast, a demonstration of one of many things queerbaiting is not. However, one could argue that, thus far, Will Byers is, canonically, queer-coded. It's pretty fucking heavily implied in the show, and the creators have confirmed it, and you're gonna be able to see it if you're not FUCKING BLIND, but word of god is not technically canon which means that interviews don't technically make something canon, blahdyblahdyblahdyblah, technicalities, Robin has been explicitly stated in the text to be queer while Will has, thus far, not, outside of good ol' Show-Don't-Tell. Of course, anyone with two brain cells to rub together can tell that that's going to change by the end of Season 5, but, hey, for what it's worth, I'm throwing this out there.

Alrighty, Thingamajingama Number Two: "Oops, I accidentally made the greatest love story known to man." AKA, a genuine, honest-to-goodness mistake. Unfortunately, we do live in a heteronormative society. Sometimes people who don't think about being gay much write a friendship that's incredibly compelling and don't even consider the possibility that it could have been read as romantic. Something something Top Gun something. This is, again, not queerbaiting. This is Steddie, this is Ronance, this is Elmax, this is your favorite flavor of non-canon ship this week, this is not Byler. The creators know DAMN well what they're doing. They've talked about it. We know this. Nothing new here.

Which brings us to the topic of discussion here. Actual queerbaiting. This usually starts out as an "accidental greatest love story", and then reacts to fan response. And when I say "reacts", I mean like a goddamn chemical reaction. Like bleach and ammonia, bitch. It's noxious and it's gonna kick your fucking ass without mercy. This is when a creator is like, "Hey, let's get our queer audience invested, but we're not actually going to give them what they want because our straight audience isn't here for that/we personally think it's gross/we don't give enough of a shit to want to research a goddamn thing to write a real gay character," blah blah blah whatever excuse they want to come up with this time.

And when you think "queerbaiting", I want you to think "bullying". Because that's what it is. It's lucrative bullying, like beating us up and taking our lunch money, but it's bullying all the same. And it's a real goddamn thing, even if people misuse the word a lot, often when they mean one of the two above, sometimes when they mean "bury your gays", which is another homophobic thing entirely that I'm not going to get into here. Queerbaiting is the thing we're focused on, and it's real, and it's bullying. And here's the reason I want you to think of it as bullying:

They

Think

It's

Funny.

They are actively making fun of us.

That's why Dean had the "Cas, get out of my ass," line in Supernatural. It's why the "Do you like boys?" line happened in Teen Wolf. It's why "Lie with me, Watson," happened in the RDJ Sherlock Holmes movies. Because "It's just a joke, mate." "It was just a prank, bro." "You didn't really think it would happen, did you?" "You should see your face."

So here's probably the biggest reason I don't think it's specifically queerbaiting in this specific instance of Will Byers and Mike Wheeler.

Stranger Things has never, not once, made a gay joke. Ever.

Every single time queerness comes up, it's dead serious.

Lonnie calls Will a fag, and the show is not at all reluctant to show what a goddamn horrible person he is. And when Hopper latches onto that, it's not as "Hahah, is he gay, though?" It's because he's trying to determine a potential motive for Will's disappearance, and even if someone had interpreted it as a joke, Joyce immediately has a line that functions as snapping her fingers in front of the audience's face and yelling "FOCUS" when she says "He's MISSING." Basically outright saying "This isn't funny!"

Troy calls him a fairy, along with targeting Lucas and Dustin for their skin color and disability respectively, and Mike gets damn near murderous. Troy is portrayed as a goddamn monster and the show portrays it as justice when El makes him piss his pants and later breaks his arm.

Steve calls Jonathan "queer" as a slur and gets the shit beat out of him for it.

Billy's father is revealed to be homophobic and abusive in the same breath.

Mike says "It's not my fault you don't like girls!" and we're shown how devastated Will is and Mike immediately follows him to beg for forgiveness.

There is a joke in Robin's coming-out scene, but it's not at Robin's expense. It's at Steve's. Specifically for being heteronormative.

Jonathan has multiple scenes where he's trying so hard to tell Will that he's always going to love him as he is, whether he's gay or not, without pressuring him to come out before he's ready.

Even when there's a little bit of ribbing at Robin's expense, it's always because she's an awkward nerd who's nervous around pretty girls, just the same as Lucas and Dustin are teased when they both first develop crushes on Max, and even then, even then, it always comes as a package deal where they make fun of Steve's girl problems at the same time.

Stranger Things is an emphatically pro-gay show. It may not be the core point of the show the way it is in, say, Our Flag Means Death, but there is nothing less than respect for its queer characters. Its queer characters are always taken completely seriously. No one is making fun of us. They never have. That's why I have serious doubts that this is queerbaiting. It would come completely out of left field for the bullying to start in Stranger Things' final season.

So it's not at all likely to be queerbaiting because queerness is taken completely seriously. The creators have talked about Will's queerness, at least, so it's not an accident. And queer-coding would be silly to expect from this show when it's already on its final season. Like, what is Netflix gonna do? Cancel it? Not to mention all the explicit queerness that's in there already. And no one's gonna "What about the children?" a show that's had sex scenes in it since the first season.

There's no fakeout here. It's gonna happen. Breathe.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

I Cherish You, Halcyon Days: i.

“You’re gonna die, kid. In the worst way possible.”

tags: afab!reader (she/her), angst, slow burn

pairing: gojou x reader + onesided!getou x reader

summary: You’re 15 years old when you’re told you’re going to die. You’re 17 years old when you realize who your killer will be. And you’re 17 years old when you make peace with the fact you wouldn’t want it any other way.

index | previous chapter | next chapter

"[First]... [First]. Hey wake up!"

You blink blearily, just barely catching your chin with your palm. "Sorry," you mumble, closing your eyes once more. You open them once more when Shoko raps her knuckles against your desk again. "'m still kinda out of it."

Yours was the start to a very trying day.

First and foremost, you overslept and missed breakfast.

You were still tired.

And most irritating of all, you had a headache ー you forgot to drink water before and after going to bed, sue you.

While you're still cognizant, you whip out your phone to text your friends. What a waste, you sigh. There aren't any missions to go on today either. Originally your plan was to head out once classes were over for the day and meet up with your non-sorcerer friends in the city. Eat at Johnny's, maybe go to an arcade and watch a movie with the money you had leftover. With how you're feeling presently though, you much preferred laying down and immediately going to sleep. "This sucks," you fail to fight back on a yawn. "I wanted to see what's been going on with everybody from my old school too." You yawn again.

Me: I'm not gonna be able to make it, sorry. Can we meet up another time instead? Have fun without me (T^T)

Chinatsu: aww that sucks. Do you think you'll be free next weekend? We can do something for your birthday!

Your smile is small yet doubtful as you text back an 'I promised my aunt that I'd visit her next weekend to celebrate so it might be a while til then.'

If there's one simultaneous benefit and drawback to attending Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College, it's that your schedule is sporadic enough that you it's never consistent what you might be doing on a day-to-day basis let alone week-to-week. Some mornings you'll find out classes are canceled for the next few days and other times you think you're home free to bullshit for the weekend only for Fujioka-sensei to pop up and say you and Shoko have a mission that'll take up the entirety of your free time. As far as your old friends from Tsubame High were concerned though, you somehow got yourself a scholarship for a bigshot religious school with a limited number of students and hellish expectations for said students.

"Look at [First] getting herself into some fancy rich kid private school," Tooru said when you broke the news to your friends you'd known since middle school that you'd be transferring to Tokyo Jujutsu Tech.

Chinatsu: Look at [First], not having too much time for the little people!

"It's pretty unusual for you to sleep in," Shoko's comment brings you out of your nostalgic stupor.

Me: Yeah who are you again?

"Yeah, I know," once you quickly type in your reply, you finally shove your phone back into your pants pocket. If there's a definitive benefit to attending Tokyo Tech, it's the customizable uniforms. You went for the boys uniform at this particular school. It felt like it would be the most practical decision when you'd be running around fighting cursed spirits. And with it being fall, the winter solstice being a couple weeks away, wearing pants felt like the best long term investment you could have come up with. Not to mention, you looked good in it. "It's not like I had any trouble getting to sleep though."

"Bad dream?"

"I don't know I can't remember it," you shrugged trying to recall whatever it was you were dreaming about. It's all hazy, not even the most significant parts scratching at your brain coming through the fog. "I don't think it was bad though. Maybe it was about my husband. I'm still mad they killed off his character in Anaconda 2 last year, can you believe that shit? He was the finest dude in the movie!" When you hear a snicker coming from your right, you shoot a glare towards the culprit with snowy white hair. "Like Inoue Waka even knows who you are, please shut up."

"At least my celebrity crush lives in my country," Gojou snickers back with a shit-eating grin. "Running into Morris Chestnut in Japan? Doesn't seem all that likely. Ah the delusions of young children."

"You are literally only two days older than me, you are making this way too big a deal."

Although Suguru releases a breath of exasperation, there's a smile gracing his features. "Well you can't be that tired if the two of you can bicker like this. Just try not to tear each other apart next week when the party hits. It's your special day after all."

Ah yes, the party. The brilliant idea that the first and second year teachers, Fujioka and Yaga, came up with on the fly yesterday on December 1st.

When you were told that there was a small number of students at this school, you didn't realize how little there would be going in. Among the first year students, you're quite literally only one of four. The previous second year student, Okita, died two months ago leaving the current number of second year students at 0. There's quite literally only two third year students in Utahime and Mei Mei. And as for 4th year students, there is only one ー Yamada.

The ratio of non-jujutsu sorcerer to sorcerer was shockingly out of balanced if there were only seven students at your school. Because of that, the teachers made sure to celebrate every student's birthday. A party, cake, presents, the whole shebang. No class, no missions. Just a day of setting up the dorms for a party while the one turning a year older had to either leave campus and wander around until it was time for their party, or sit around doing nothing around campus until someone came to get them.

It wasn't too long ago when you were all celebrating Shoko's birthday on the 27th of last month.

It was her party with her cake and her presents.

But you? The teachers had a special idea in mind for you. Because in a school of seven students where two of them were born within days of each other, why have two separate parties when you could make it one and cheapen the cost?

One party with one cake and a mixture of presents for you both to tear open at the same time.

Gojou is December 7th.

You're December 9th.

They'll just celebrate both on the 8th and call it a day.

When it came down to it, you understood the principle behind the plan. You could even get behind it. It's just that if somewhere to ask if you liked Gojou Satoru, your answer would be an irrevocable 'no'.

Hell, you'd answer 'no' even if no one did ask.

Gojou Satoru is impossible for you to like from his stupid sunglasses to his shit-eating grins. Even worse is his arrogance. Because apparently, there's no one in the world of jujutsu you were scouted into that didn't know who Gojou Satoru is. Born merely two days before you, Gojou Satoru's birth changed the state of the jujutsu world. "He's basically like the jujutsu sorcerer version of Jesus," Shoko explained when you asked why everyone seemingly made a big deal over him.

I don't like him at all.

You're the odd man out in your class, though, you begrudgingly force yourself to accept all over again during lunch. Despite your less than stellar review of the boy, Suguru and Shoko got along just fine with him.

Gojou had always been obnoxious about the fact you were born a couple days after him when you found out you shared a month of birth. It is just that with your birthdays being right around the corner of next week, he is being especially intolerable. He even came to wake you up this morning when you overslept, forcing Gojou Satoru and his blue eyes that were partially obscured by his sunglasses to be the first thing you saw that morning. Clearly a premonition that today was going to be a mess when he all but sang "morning, junior, you're gonna be late to class at this rate!"

By the gods, I wanna punch him so much. I don't care if he's Jujutsu Jesus, he just thinks he's hot shit because he has blue eyes.

At the very least, you can rest easy in knowing the fact that the feelings of dislike are mutual.

Gojou Satoru is strong, it's an irrefutable fact no matter how much you'd like to deny it. He's strong and in turn, the strong are the only ones Gojou respects. You apparently don't make the cut.

And that's fine. Strength came in all sorts of ways. (An argument the two of you have already had with one another where Suguru said you both would just have to agree to disagree.) You disliked Gojou Satoru but you could live with the fact that, at the very least, you were going to be stuck together for four years. Because even if he was strong, life sometimes paid you back with small moments of grace where someone put the golden boy of the Gojou Clan in his place.

"Just so you know, Takamatsu Akira is visiting again," Shoko's voice pulls you back into the present.

You raise an eyebrow at the unfamiliar name, "never heard of 'em."

"He's a sorcerer that can see glimpses of a person's future when he looks at them," Suguru answers in her stead over a sip of his oi ocha. "He's apparently at the school today for some sort of meeting."

"Hands off the goods," your eyes widen in amazement as you quickly smack away Gojou's hand from your lunch. "Really? And it's all accurate too?"

"He's a major asshole, though," the white-haired boy hisses with a pout. You roll your eyes. I'm not sure how reliable your words are if you of all people are calling someone an asshole. Your incredulousness must show on your face because Gojou's next words are, "seriously! He only tells people he thinks have interesting futures anything about it."

"And?"

"Satoru's just mad because apparently his future isn't interesting," Suguru smirks, smugly welcoming his best friend's unamused side eye. "He told me about mine though."

You bite back a snort when your curiosity to know Suguru's fortune wins. "What did he say about it?"

Suguru touched his chin thoughtfully, recalling back the day he met the seer. "He said that one day I'll be stuck at a crossroads between two paths and make a life changing decision," he pauses dramatically and you lean forward in anticipation. "That's all he told me though."

Damn it.

The brown-eyed boy chuckles but he shoots you a look of amused sympathy, "he never really tells you too much about it apparently. I was disappointed too."

"Did he ever tell you anything about your future, Shoko?" You ask your class' resident slacker.

Shoko shook her head, bob gently moving with her. "I'm one of the boring ones too," she says with a lazy wave of her hand. "Like Gojou."

"Don't worry, my friends," Suguru places a hand over his chest and bows with far too much grace and humility. "I alone will shoulder the burden of having an interesting future. Unlike Satoru."

You choke, unable to stop yourself from chortling this time. Whatever Gojou sputters in his self-defense, you don't hear it over the sound of your own laughter. "Maybe he'll tell me about my future too," you sigh when your giggles subside. You sincerely doubt it, but it's fun to think about the possibilities. I want an interesting life plot twist, like the reveal I'm actually a long-lost member of some royal family he just won't tell me which one.

"He'll probably stop by because you're here," Shoko rests her chin on her palm. You were the newest in your class, starting a month later than the rest. "He likes seeing if new students will have interesting futures ahead of them."

"Don't get too excited, [First]," Gojou quickly rains on your parade with a lot of arrogance for someone whose future is apparently so boring a seer won't even talk to him about it. "I'm the most interesting person in this place and he won't even talk to me. So who knows what sort of reaction you'll get."

"Oh quit being bitter that your future is gonna be boring, asshole," before any other quips and gripes can be exchanged, the class door slides open abruptly. You look over with a start, wondering if it's your teacher when you see it isn't. The man is a bit younger than Yaga but his hair is already graying and his eyes are a deep green reminiscent of pine trees. You have a feeling you already know who it is and grin. "You wouldn't happen to be Takamatsu Akira, would you? Gojou here was telling me about his boring future soー" you stop yourself with a shudder when you blinked and realized that man was in front of your face and much too close for comfort.

"Now that is something," the man blinks owlishly, eyes almost glowing in his amazement.

Your discomfort flies away faster than a seagull with someone else's lunch, "really?"

The man leans back with a grin and a snap of his fingers, "really, really."

With that you look at Gojou and stick out your tongue and he sticks his tongue in return.

[First] 1, Gojou 0.

Suguru chuckles and Shoko grins and all the while, Gojou flicks your forehead too quickly for you to react. "Look, hater, it isn't my fault that your future's boring, quit trying to rain on my parade," you snicker, batting your eyelashes. "Mr. Takamatsu, I'd really appreciate it if you could tell me about my future if you don't mind. Before the naysayers get more butthurt than they already are."

"You're gonna die, kid."

With four words, your blood freezes and you find yourself blinking once, twice slowly. It's the matching looks of shock and surprise on your classmates' faces that tells you you heard Takamatsu correctly. Stiffly, you look back at the seer hoping for that revelation to be nothing but a joke, but instead you find yourself looking at a maniacal grin. That grin feels more like a knife in your gut. "In the worst way possible."

The knife sinks deeper into your flesh, twisting.

"Hey," out of the four of you, Gojou is the one who finds his voice first.

Takamatsu ignores the boy with snow white hair as if he's nothing but a minor breeze, "But," he beams like he's only told you that he found a discount at the convenience store. "Because I like you so much, I'll let you ask three questions about it."

"O-okay," you stammer almost instinctively. Like a zombie, you find yourself stumbling onto your feet and Takamatsu nods at the door. These answers will be for you and you alone. You aren't sure what expression you wear on your face as you exit, nor the expressions of your peers. You can't bring yourself to look at them as you follow the future-seeing sorcerer into the halls of your school.

I'm going to die.

I'm going to die.

In the worst way possible.

It's only once you're relatively alone that the seer halts his walking in the middle of the hall to look at you. "Feel free to ask your questions," he tells you. "Your classmates shouldn't be able to hear, even if they keep looking out the door. So ask away," he reassures you, waving his hand nonchalantly.

You glance to your left and sure enough there are three heads leaning out of the door, staring straight at you both. You can't bring yourself to smile reassuringly before you return your gaze to the sorcerer in front of you.

Three questions.

Your first question can only be so obvious. "Howー how do I die?"

Takamatsu's amusement is sapped from his face at that question. "Really?" He yawns with a shake of his head. "That's what you're going to ask? That's quite boring."

Boring? Boring?! It's my life! "Yeah but-"

"You know what, fine," Takamatsu sighs, crossing his arms. He recalls his vision in his mind for a moment before he opens his lips. "You're going to be killed by someone precious to you. Ask me something more… riveting this time."

You blink slowly.

You're going to be killed by someone you care about.

When do I die?

Was it an accident?

On purpose?

Why would they want to kill me?

You don't think those are questions Takamatsu will find intriguing in the slightest. In a panic, you ask the most original question that enters your brain. "Do I die… angry at them?" No. Fucking. Shit, me. "Wait, that was dumb don't answer th-"

"Nope, it counts," Takamatsu clicks his tongue. Maybe it's payback for your first question being so predictable and unoriginal. "And my answer for that is no. Your heart will surprisingly bear no anger towards the person who kills you." A revelation that shakes you to the core. "Well, one question left to go, kid. No more mess ups, I'll take it even if it's something as a dumb as a repeat question."

"Okay, okay," you exhale nervously, biting your lip. I need to think.

You know yourself.

You're selfish at times, who isn't? If it really came down to it though, you know you'd always put someone else's life over your own. You can talk big, you can snort when you watch a movie and say 'yeah sorry, they'd be stuck on their own. I'm not dying in a situation like that, I'd wanna go home'. But you know yourself enough to know that despite thinking it, your feet would inevitably turn towards the other person. Maybe you'd die in the end but you know you'd try your damnedest to get them out.

Why else would you put yourself on the line fighting curses?

Curses were scary.

You'd seen them you're entire life, unable to explain why or what they are to the people around you. Some were tall, some were small and some were so grotesquely horrifying that it made Sadako and Freddy Kreuger look like kittens. Being able to literally shield yourself from them were a saving grace when Rejection came in. Those curses didn't attack often, no they mostly just hung about before choosing some random poor soul to haunt. You just didn't want one touching you or your parents.

Things got a bit better when they sent you to Japan for the summer with your aunt. Apparently that's what happens when you live in a country with a more stable and organized force of jujutsu sorcery. Or maybe it was, begrudgingly, because living in the home court of Jujutsu Jesus kept some curses from wilding out the way they did in your home country.

Either way, your parents relented when you begged for them to let you continue living in Japan with your aunt.

That's how you were prepared for the night your class' test of courage went to shit when a curse showed up and miraculously kept the list of mortal casualties at zero.

But I'd like to think that in a life or death fight where it's me or them, I'd choose me. You shake your head pushing the thought to the side. You almost forgot the most important detail. Your killer will be someone who matters to you. But I won't be mad about it. If it was life or death, I'd choose me. I know that. Stranger on the street or a lifelong sworn enemy. And I know if I was killed by someone I apparently care about, I'd definitely be bitter about it. I'm not that forgiving.

Future you isn't in agreement. Your eyes turn to the ground.

Is it a life or death fight situation or an accident? You open your mouth briefly before closing it again.

They're precious to me.

They're someone I care about.

But I won't be angry.

I mustn't have been trying that hard then, you wet your lips as a light bulb flickers deeply in the recesses of your mind. You couldn't have been. How else could your future self's lack of anger be justified? One day, there will be someone you care for so greatly that even in a life or death battle, you'd still choose them.

You raise your head to look into dark green eyes dancing with amusement, a grin accompanying them. The grin morphs from clear to distorted at the welling of tears in your eyes. I wasn't trying. "I must really love this person, don't I?"

Takamatsu's grin grows even wider, eyes flashing in pleasant surprise. "Yeah," he leans against the wall, crossing his arms. "It seems like you do."

Tears roll down your cheeks like streams into a river yet your arms hang loosely at your side. "That's three questions then," you murmur, throat constricting. You inhale slowly, hold your breath and release before wiping your eyes. "Thank you for answering my questions, Mr. Takamatsu. Lunch is gonna be over soon, so I'm gonna go finish eating now."

You bow before turning on your heel back to your class, your classmates are still there. You don't really care to receive their pity or empathy.

"I'm gonna die, it's gonna suck and that's all he really told me," you say before anyone can ask.

It's hours after classes have ended for the day and you're cooking in the communal kitchen when you see Gojou again.

"Hey," Gojou says and his tone is so serious it startles you. You set your knife down on the cutting board before looking at him. His face doesn't seem right to you and it dawns on you a second later it's because he's frowning and it's not the usual childish frown you're used to seeing. "Don't take what that guy said seriously. Like I said, he's an asshole. He was probably saying all of that to freak you out." There's a pause and Gojou scratches the back of his head, looking uncomfortable in his skin. "So don't, like, cry about it. Takamatsu's a prick."

"Are you," you squint, looking Gojou over suspiciously. "Trying to make me feel better or something in your own weird Gojou way?"

"Someone has to make sure you aren't drowning in their sorrows," Gojou returns to his usual brand of cocky, with a grin. His sunglasses slide down, revealing playful eyes.

"I don't want the comfort then," you roll your eyes and return to chopping your vegetables. "Besides, I don't need it anyways, I'm strong."

"Eeeeh."

Asshole.

"We had this argument before that there's different kinds of strong, you jackass," you argue for argument's sake knowing it's a moot point to argue with someone who vehemently believes otherwise. Apparently he thinks belief in philosophical kinds of strongs is how the weak comfort themselves.

You vaguely notice that in spite of your annoyance, your shoulders aren't stiff and your jaw is loose. Apparently Gojou is good for something, after all. "Strong looks different for different people. A kid is strong when they act tough after tripping. A grown man crying and being open with his emotions is strong," you recount some of the ways you've seen people be strong in your life. You've witnessed strength in various ways in your 15 years of living. "… Even just living despite how hard it can be is strong. But it's whatever, I already know you think that's a load of self-comforting weak crap, don't feel like arguing about it."

Save for the sound of you cutting green celery and the light simmer of the pan, silence falls over the two of you.

"What did you guys talk about when he said you could ask him questions?" Gojou finally asks.

"… nothing important," you mutter back.

ー

When you wake up at 4:30 in the morning the next day, knowing full well there was going to be physical education that day, you decide to ditch class.

index | previous chapter | next chapter

Extra

In the oneshot I somehow fucked up the timeline by one year. In reality, Gojou was a 1st year in 2005 not 2004.

Also, in the oneshot I said the reader was the baby of the class. I was wrong again. Suguru was actually born in '90, not '89, like I originally assumed. Thus, he's actually the baby of the class. So I removed all mentions of the reader being the class baby. Still, you're younger than Gojou by two days so he is still rather insufferable about that, much to your chagrin.

Compared to the oneshot, now that there is more extended time to look into such things, there will be dives into the reader's non-sorcerer origins, family and friends. I would like to note that the reader isn't from Japan originally in terms of her nationality, but that will be covered in future chapters. Regardless, the reader is ethnically ambiguous for the self-insert convenience!

[amhrosina]

This Feels Like Falling in Love (Billy Russo x f!Reader)

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAGLIST

A/N: Originally, I was going to write this as a Matt fic, but decided it would fit Billy more. Also, I included smut because it's been a hot minute since I wrote any and I missed it!!! I sort of took this lyric prompt as more of a "I don't know how to love you the right way and I need your help to show me how". One of my fav's @messymissy requested this! Thank you!

Request: Haii, could you do comfort/happy fic with the prompt "i was made to keep your body warm, but I'm cold as the wind blows so hold me in your arms" it's from Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran. Maybe it could be for Billy or Matt or Frank or even Bucky, it's up to you honestly. Thank you love ❣️

Summary: Billy and you have been best friends for years and must face your feelings for each other one night when you see him with another girl.

(Warnings: cursing, drinking?, best friends to lovers, smut, oral (fem receiving), p in v, Billy gets on his knees and begs for you at one point, jealousy, unresolved feelings, teasing, mutual pining, reader and Billy are both idiots, Frank makes an appearance, non-canon Billy, Billy requests that the heels stay on!!!)

“Do you think this tie makes me look like an idiot?”

You looked up from your phone, watching as Billy fiddled with his tie in the mirror. It was already 10 minutes past the time you were supposed to have left for Anvil’s annual Christmas party, but Billy was nothing if not sharply dressed, and he’d been getting ready for the better part of an hour already.

“You do that all on your own. The tie doesn’t have anything to do with it.” You teased, smiling as he continued to mess up the knot at the base of his throat. You stood, quickly making your way over to him.

“Who’re you trying to impress, anyways? It’s just the Anvil guys.” You murmured, fixing his tie with nimble fingers. You could feel the burn of his stare on you as you focused on the black fabric. You looked up when he didn’t respond, fingers stilling when you caught the heat in his stare.

Billy and you were a complicated pairing. Most people that didn’t know you assumed you were a couple, and you could understand why. The hand holding, the way he’d lead you by the small of your back anytime you went somewhere together, and the fact that when one of you was spotted somewhere, it was pretty much expected that the other wasn’t far behind were just a few of the things that helped people make their assumptions. But you weren’t with Billy, and you never had been.

Billy had been your best friend for years and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a tiny bit attracted to him. Everyone and their mother recognized Billy as a handsome man, and you sometimes found yourself thinking about what Billy might be like as a partner, rather than a friend.

“Who knows? Lots of women come to these parties.” He smirked, startling you out of your thoughts. And just like that, you were reminded why you and Billy had never been a couple. He saw you as his friend, nothing more.

You hummed in response, patting his chest when you finished adjusting his tie.

“Are you ready to go? Or do you need more time to look at yourself in the mirror?” You teased, reaching for your purse.

“Ready when you are, princess.” He responded, holding his elbow out for you to wrap your arm around.

The party was the biggest Anvil party you’d ever attended. People milled about, smiling, drinking, and laughing with each other. The Anvil guys had said their hellos when you walked in, one of them even whistling when he saw the dress you’d picked out for the evening. It was an emerald green off-the-shoulder gown that had a slit up to your mid-thigh. You couldn’t help but giggle at their reactions. They were used to seeing you in either business professional clothing or workout gear, depending on what Billy needed from you for the day.

Technically, Billy was your business partner. You’d invested money in Anvil at the very start of it, right after Billy returned from combat, and you’d already made enough money back from your investment for your grandchildren’s grandchildren to retire and live comfortably, but you let Billy call the shots of the business. He was better at handling business deals, and you preferred to help him out where you could, rather than running any aspect of the business. He consulted you for most things anyway, and Anvil was seeing so much success that you didn’t want to change anything about how the business was run.

When you’d been whistled at, a firm satisfaction had settled in your stomach. Maybe you wanted to impress people too. Maybe you wanted to impress someone specific. Billy hadn’t mentioned the dress when you arrived on his doorstep, which had been a bit of a confidence killer if you were honest with yourself. The idea that you did, in fact, look hot in your dress to other people helped boost your confidence after the disappointing reaction from Billy.

You were huddled against the wall, sipping on champagne as you watched the party happening around you. You tried not to let your focus slip to the other side of the room, where Billy was currently being chatted up by not one, not two, but three women. The shriek of laughter that came from the group drew your attention to him anyways, and you internally groaned as one of the women placed their hand on his arm as she laughed.

You couldn’t even fault the women. Billy was handsome, charming, and funny, and if you had more courage, you would be doing the exact thing they were doing right now. You looked away, focusing on the ridiculously expensive ice sculpture you and Billy had picked out for the party. You suddenly felt like being anywhere but at the party, watching Billy find the woman he was inevitably going to take home for the night.

“You know,” someone chuckled from beside you, “he’s never going to realize what he has right in front of him unless you do something about it.”

You looked over, locking eyes with Frank Castle, who was dressed in a sleek black suit, looking as handsome as ever.

“Hi, Frank.” You smiled. You didn’t see much of Frank these days, but he’d met someone, and you were genuinely glad he’d been able to find happiness after everything he’d been through. “Where’s Karen?”

“She’s somewhere around here.” He shrugged, tilting his head toward Billy. “You ever gonna do anything about that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shrugged, taking a rather large sip of champagne.

Frank let out another chuckle, shaking his head. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

“I’m serious, Frank. What Billy does in his free time is none of my concern.” The lie left a bitter taste in your mouth, and you couldn’t help but glance at Billy again. The woman that had touched his arm was standing impossibly close to him, and he was murmuring something in her ear. You gulped, pushing yourself off the wall.

“I need some air.” You breathed.

Frank called after you, concern laced in his voice, but you didn’t stop or turn around. You made your way to the side door, where you knew no one would be milling about, and stepped into the brisk New York air. It was December, and it was freezing, but you didn’t want to wait for one of the hired servers to find your jacket amongst the hundreds of others in the coat room.

You exhaled, watching as your breath fogged in front of you. You usually had a better handle on your feelings. You didn’t know why it was bothering you all the sudden. Billy had always been a ladies’ man. A shiver made its way up your back, and you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“Christ,” you murmured to yourself, “It really is cold.”

The sound of the door swinging open startled you. You let out a yelp, stepping away from the door.

“Jesus,” Billy cringed as he stepped into the alley, “Where’s your jacket? It’s freezing.”

“I-” You started, confused at his sudden appearance. “I forgot it inside.”

He shrugged out of his suit jacket, quickly wrapping it around your shoulders. He rubbed his hands up and down your arms, trying to warm you up.

“Why are you out here?” You questioned, basking in the warmth of his jacket. It smelled like him, a rough mixture of oak and musk with a hint of spice in the undertones.

“I saw you leave and wanted to know what was bothering you. Then Frank shoved me out the door and called me a ‘fucking idiot’.” He replied, shrugging in confusion. “You know anything about that?”

This was your opening. You could finally do something about the feelings you’d been harboring for years. You could finally tell him that you had loved him since the day you met him. It could finally become more than it was. This was the opening you’d been waiting for. But you’d always been a coward when it came to Billy.

You shook your head. “I have no idea. I’m fine.”

Billy tilted his head, eyeing your figure in the dark. You tried to push past him, reaching for the door to return to the party, but he clamped his hand around your arm, pulling your shoulder into his chest. He murmured your name in a knowing tone.

You were terrified to look up at him and see the rejection written on his face. This would change everything, and you couldn’t bear the thought of losing Billy over something as silly as feelings.

“It’s fine. You should go back in. I’m sure that girl is waiting for you.” You couldn’t keep the bite out of your tone. The bitterness was too tempting, and you suddenly wanted him to feel bad about all the women he’d paraded around you over the years.

“Are you jealous? Is that what this is about?” He asked, amused.

“Why would I be jealous?” You asked, finally meeting his gaze.

“I don’t know.” He murmured your name, cupping your cheeks in his hand. “Why would you be jealous?”

He was giving you another opening, that was obvious. But this time, his eyes were full of warmth and care, and you couldn’t help the words from tumbling out of your mouth.

“Because I’m in love with you, obviously. I’m working on it. Don’t freak out. It doesn’t change anything.”

You tried to push past him again, but the grip he had on your face didn’t falter.

“Look at me. Does it look like I’m freaking out?” He asked.

It didn’t. He looked calm and collected, and cold, maybe.

“No.” You replied, curiosity clear in your voice. “Why aren’t you freaking out?”

He chuckled, shaking his head before resting his forehead against yours. “Because I’ve waited my entire life to hear those words from you. Because I was too much of a coward to do anything about it. Because I love you too, and I’m so incredibly happy right now.”

You gripped his shirt, bunching the fabric in your fists, before shoving yourself out of his hold.

“What?” You cried, resting your head in your hands. “What do you mean?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, watching as you paced in front of him. This was not the reaction you had been expecting, and now you didn’t know what to do with yourself. Why hadn’t he said anything?

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You dropped your hands, clenching your fists and glaring at him.

He smiled and looked towards the sky, shaking his head again.

“Because I didn’t want to lose you. Because I was scared.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never been in love with someone. I don’t know how to be someone’s boyfriend, and I certainly don’t know how to love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

You stopped pacing and turned to look at him. “What about all the girls? And the flirting? And the dates?”

“Futile attempts to get over my feelings for you. It never worked. I fall more in love with you every day.”

You groaned, dropping your head into your hands again.

“We’re both fucking idiots.” You mumbled.

He chuckled, stepping closer to you. He rested his hands on yours, gently prying your fingers away from your face.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, cradling your cheeks in his warm hands.

“Please.” You nodded.

He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. It started slow and sweet, but quickly turned into a searing, heated kiss. He pulled you fully against him, shoving his tongue in your mouth. You groaned and wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning into the warmth radiating off his body. His hands made their way down your body, roaming across your back and along the curve of your hips.

He pushed you back, following you as you leaned against the side of the building. He gripped your bottom lip in his teeth, lightly tugging on it. His grip on your waist tightened as you let out a soft moan.

“Fuck, baby.” He mumbled against your lips. “I’ve wanted to do this for years.”

He left a trail of kisses along your jaw, pressing his lips against your neck. You groaned, lifting your chin to give him more access. Your pulse had skyrocketed, and you couldn’t help the sultry tone in your voice when you finally spoke.

“Wanna get out of here?”

He lifted his head from your neck, kissing your jawline again.

“Do you?” He questioned, running his hands along your waist. He pressed himself against you, and the friction of his pants against your most sensitive part had you moaning louder than you meant to.

“God, yes.” You rested your head against the brick, panting.

“Let’s go, baby.” He gripped your hand, pulling you back into the building. The warmth was a welcome reprieve from the icy outdoor temperature, and you very nearly moaned as it fully encompassed you.

He swiftly led you through the party, barely glancing at the people who tried to talk to him. You tried not to giggle as you were pulled past the girl Billy had been talking to earlier. You weren’t typically the vindictive type, but you had finally won what you’d been pining after for years, so the smile that crept on your face when her eyes caught his hand in yours wasn’t entirely a conscious choice.

You spied Frank across the room, who was lightly running his hand along Karen’s waist. You mouthed a ‘thank you’ to him, and he lifted his drink in response, smiling.

Billy found your jacket in the coat room, shoving his arms into his jacket when you shrugged it off your shoulders and returned it to him. He wrapped his hand around yours again, tugging you out the front door and into a cab.

He couldn’t keep his hands off you, running one of them up your exposed thigh while the other caressed your cheek. He pressed chaste kisses to your shoulder, throat, and jaw, and you did your best not to moan in the back of the taxi that was hurdling towards his apartment.

When the cab finally stopped, Billy threw a hundred-dollar bill in the driver’s direction, swinging the door open and pulling you through it. He pulled you against him, capturing your lips in another heated kiss. He wrapped his arms around you, hands resting on the small of your back.

“Billy.” You mumbled against his lips. “It’s freezing.”

He chuckled, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Sorry. I just can’t believe this isn’t a dream.”

“You dream about me often, Russo?” You asked, resting your arms on his shoulders.

“Every night since the night I met you.” He responded, smiling.

He led you to the elevators that would take you up to his apartment. You’d been in this elevator a million times, but you’d never had Billy’s lips attached to yours while riding in it before. When you finally made it to his front door, he groaned as he pulled his lips away from yours, quickly unlocking the door and pulling you inside.

You pushed the door shut behind you as he slammed his mouth into yours, chunking his keys over his shoulder. The keys skittered across the floor, and you didn’t care that you’d probably spend hours with Billy trying to find them tomorrow. You ran your hands up his chest and onto his shoulders, pushing his jacket off his shoulders. He shrugged it off, letting it drop to the floor.

He pulled you off the door, walking backwards towards his bedroom, all the while keeping his lips attached to yours. He couldn’t get enough of you, and you wanted to drown in his kisses.

When he brushed up against his bed, he swung you around, gently pushing you onto the mattress. You plopped down, opening your eyes to fully look at him. He was panting, looking over you with soft, lustful eyes. You laid back, resting on your elbows as he slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt.

He discarded his shirt, dropping it to the floor behind him, and finally locked eyes with you. You were a sight to behold, lips swollen, and cheeks flushed. He groaned, dropping to his knees in front of you, and you gasped as he ran his hands up your legs, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” He mumbled, “Anything you want. I’ll give it to you.”

“Anything?” You quirked, raising an eyebrow at him.

He nodded, leaving an open-mouthed kiss higher on your leg. “Anything.”

“Even Anvil?” You teased, yelping when he lightly bit your inner thigh.

“Is that what you want?” He smiled, soothing the bite with a soft kiss. “Want to be the CEO? I’ll put you in the chair, baby, but I don’t think you’d like it.”

“No.” You giggled. “I know I wouldn’t like that.”

“Tell me what you want, baby.” He murmured, ghosting his lips over the tip of the slit in your dress.

“Want your mouth, Bil.”

He let out a throaty groan, resting his forehead against your hip.

“This fucking dress.” He bunched the fabric in his fists. “This fucking dress.”

“You like my dress?” You asked, breathing in as he began to wiggle his fingers under the fabric, higher and higher until he reached the sides of your underwear. His fingers wrapped around the tiny strings, and he inhaled sharply as he looked up at you.

“I love your dress.” He groaned. “Every time I saw you tonight, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. You look stunning. When that douche whistled at you earlier, I wanted to break his fucking jaw.”

You grinned at his confession. “No need to break anyone’s jaw, Bil. I’m yours.”

He responded with a quick tug, pulling your underwear down your legs, and throwing it across the room. You spread your legs for him as he shoved his arms under your thighs, resting your legs on his shoulders. He bunched your dress around your waist, giving him full access to your pussy.

He didn’t waste any more time, flattening his tongue against your clit as he licked inbetween your folds.

“Oh, fuck.” You fell back, arching your back.

He masterfully circled his tongue around your clit, drawing you closer and closer to completion. He ran his tongue up your slit, sucking and licking in all the right places, and you couldn’t stop the whines coming from your throat. He was so good at it.

“Please, Billy. Don’t stop!” You gasped, arching your back further. He pressed his hands against your stomach, keeping you right where he wanted you. Heat built up in your core, spreading throughout your body. Your breath quickened and you couldn’t help the loud moan that you let out as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked. Billy let out a throaty moan against your clit, and it sent you over the edge.

Your orgasm crashed through you, and you arched against the bed. Billy continued to lick your clit as you let out a loud moan. You saw white and couldn’t feel anything but the heat of his mouth on you as you breathed through the orgasm. When you finally shoved Billy’s mouth away from your core, your ears were ringing, and your brain hadn’t begun functioning again.

Billy crawled up your body, pressing kisses on your chest and jaw as he hovered over you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, chuckling at your dazed expression.

“I’m more than okay.” You breathed, resting your hands on his shoulders. “How are you so good at that? Wait, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”

He chuckled, kissing your cheek, and then pressing his lips to yours in a sweet, comforting motion.

“As much as I love this dress,” he started, thrusting himself up against you so you could feel the impact the dress had on him, “I think I’d love it on my floor even more.”

You whined when you felt how hard he was, and suddenly, taking your dress off became the most important thing you’d ever had the pleasure of doing for him. He reached underneath you, unclasping the top of the dress and slowly pulling the zipper down until it reached your lower back.

You shrugged your arms out of the sleeves, allowing the fabric to fall forward until your breasts were fully exposed. Billy grunted, running his hands down the skin of your torso until they met what was left of the dress bunched around your waist. He lifted your hips in a rough motion, pushing the dress down your body until you could kick it off.

You reached down to unbuckle the heels you were wearing when Billy’s hand covered yours, pulling it into his chest.

“Leave them on.” He murmured, shoving his lips against yours in a heated kiss.

His hands wound their way up your body again, stopping to squeeze your breasts before he rolled his body against yours. You let out a whine, reaching for his belt buckle.

“These need to go. Now.” You muttered, unbuttoning his pants, and shoving them down his legs.

“Yes ma’am.” He chuckled, pushing the remainder of his clothing off his body. You were both fully bare, minus your heels, pressed up against each other, and you didn’t think you could take another second of waiting for him to thrust into you.

Billy had shifted his focus to your breasts, wrapping his lips around your nipple. He teased it with a lick, and you let out a frustrated groan.

“Something wrong, princess?” He teased, eyes flicking up to yours.

“Billy,” you whined, “I want you to fuck me. Please. Please.”

You were begging, but you didn’t care. You’d waited long enough to be this close to him and you were dying for him to be inside of you. His gaze instantly darkened, and he nodded, shifting his body so that he was lined up with your entrance.

“You’re sure you want to do this, right?” He asked, suddenly worried that he’d taken advantage of your vulnerability in the alley earlier.

“I’ve never been surer of anything, Bil.” You murmured, opening your legs wider.

He sank into you, grunting when he finally bottomed out. The bliss on your face was enough to remind him that he needed to move. He slowly began thrusting, motivated by your soft mewls in his ear.

“I’ve dreamt about this.” He groaned. “I’ve been waiting my entire life for you.”

“Fuck, Bil. You’re gonna make me cry.” You breathed, capturing his lips in yours. He pushed into you harder, and you let out a stunted moan in return.

“It’s true.” He murmured your name, picking up the pace of his thrusts. You couldn’t form a coherent response, punch-drunk on the feeling of him. “I love you.”

Heat began to build in your core for the second time that night, and soon Billy was pounding into you, mumbling sweet nothings in your ear as you came apart around him. The groan Billy let out when he felt you fluttering around him was downright sinful, and you moaned so loudly you were sure the party back at Anvil heard you.

Billy’s thrusts became sloppy, and you knew he was close. You captured his lips in a sweet kiss, and his pace faltered as his grip on you tightened.

“I love you more, Bil.” You mumbled against his lips. Your words un-did any semblance of control he had over himself, and he roughly kissed you as he came deep inside of you. You moaned with him, relishing the feeling of being filled by him. He pressed his forehead against your chest, panting as he came down from his high.

You ran your fingers through his hair, kissing his shoulder. When he was finally able to function again, he lifted his head and brought his lips to yours. He kissed you for what felt like hours, and you welcomed every second of it. He was finally yours, and you planned on spending the rest of your life kissing him every chance you got.

He slightly pulled away, looking down at you. “Was that okay?” He asked, nuzzling his nose against yours. He was still buried deep inside of you, and you could feel yourself beginning to leak around him.

“More than okay. I loved it. I love you.”

“I love you.” He mumbled, kissing you again.

You shivered with oversensitivity when he pulled out of you. The entire night felt like a dream, and you were terrified that you’d wake up tomorrow and find out it had all been in your head. Billy pulled you against him, cradling your head against his chest. No, you thought, you couldn’t possibly be dreaming the warmth you felt when he held you.

“You’re going to have to help me.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“What do you mean?” You asked, nuzzling your head into his chest.

“I’m terrified that I’m going to ruin this. I’ve never had a successful relationship, and this one feels like the most important thing I’ve ever done.” He confessed as his fingers trailed over your back.

“You’re not going to ruin anything, Bil. Relationships are tough, but we’ll get through anything that comes our way, okay? That’s what you do when you love someone.”

“What if I don’t love you the right way?” He asked, cradling you closer to him.

“You already have, Bil.”

“I swear I’m dreaming right now.” His chuckle reverberates through his chest.

“Want me to pinch you?” You asked, looking up at him with a mischievous grin.

“No,” he shook his head, “If I’m dreaming, I want to stay here forever.”

Your grin shifts into a soft smile, and you press a long kiss to his cheek. “Okay.” You murmured, closing your eyes. You drifted, lulled to sleep by the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat. It would be hours before Billy was settled enough to sleep, but he didn’t dare move. He watched you sleeping peacefully against him, unable to comprehend how the night ended with you in his bed. He’d finally gotten the girl, and he was terrified, but your sweet reassurances had put those insecurities to bed for now. When he finally drifted off to sleep, he prayed for the first time in his life to wake up the next day, wrapped in your arms.

Tag List:

@purple-amaranthe @raajali3 @emiemiemiii @messymissy @mossexe @fictional-hooman @oeuryale @violet-19999 @quackson03 @husherstan @deliciousfestsalad @dumb-fawkin-bitch @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @chiaraxtargaryen @lilyevans1 @22carolina08 @km-ffluv @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @imagineadream

[papermonkeyism]

Poking at the dinosaur project thingy, this time with some production technicalities point of view.

Here be musings.

I originally thought of the project as a calendar, then a series of calendars that could be collected into an art book once enough art had been made for it, and at some point I thought of just skipping the calendar part and going straight for art books.

I've been going back and forth between those options multiple times over the years, and it's still kinda open. Like on one hand a simple calendar with just thirteen illustrations (twelve months plus cover) is the easiest and cheapest option, though pretty limited (what to do once the year presented in the calendar ends, and you still got unsold leftover stock?), and the other hand art books are big projects requiring lots of work, even more money, but be a lasting and very satisfying thing to have.

Maybe I should take a middle road and make a zine instead?

Maybe.

Though, this is where the shape of the actual project comes in.

I've always planned the project as having a slice of life style format, with little story and more focus in exploring the setting. Kinda just looking in and enjoying the view while you go. But I've noticed that keeping the "narration" as illustrations kinda keeps the immersion at arm's length too. While that is fine and dandy for a calendar where the space for any narrative would be very limited anyway, if I was going to do more with the setting, I kinda need something deeper. Even if the audience is fine just looking at pretty pictures, with ADHD it would be better to have something deeper to help keep me personally invested enough to actually plan, plot and produce the materials needed.

Should I make an actual story, with plot and stuff? Feels kinda unnecessary for a thing focusing on just illustrations, and I don't know if I really "click" with a text heavy picture book format. I kinda feel it would make comic as the best option, though that has its own downsides. I've always wanted to do full colour paintings of the dinosaurs, yet going comic it would have to simplify a lot and make it grayscale just to keep me sane. And, as someone who has done well over 250 pages of a long form comic, that's still a HUGE commitment I don't think I have the resources - mental, physical nor financial - to pull off.

I also kinda feel having a plot story would sort of detract from the "exploring the world" aspect and put more heavy focus on characters, which. Well, it's not *bad* exactly, just not quite what I want.

(Also I am aware the dinosaur clan I have has a kid character, and I don't want to make her the point of view character for the story. I have no interest doing a childrens' book. I mean, I am perfectly fine if kids do eventually end up liking my stuff, but I don't consider them my target audience. My target audience is me, an adult person in their later 30s, and a handful of nerds I consider friends and/or mutuals.)

Another option I've been toying with is kind of a double edged sword.

Those who got the Almost Real speculative evolution zine volume 5 got a bit of a taste of this, as I kinda tried it out there.

So... I've gone to pretty great lengths as a layperson to work in the setting of the project thingy. It's always bothered me when dinosaurs get just dumped into a story with no regards to when and where they actually lived, making for an anachronistic hodgepodge of what's popular forming into a mismatched fantasy setting, usually with throwing humans into the mix. I don't like that. I'm more interested in seeing the actual animals as they were, when they were and where they were, where the focus is in the dinosaurs themselves. Thus the limit to Two Medicine formation (with some of the surrounding areas included too, though still keeping to the same time period).

I do not want humans in my dinosaur stories. Period.

But what if...

So, imagine a research journal. There's a scientist visiting the clan of Singing People the project focuses on, with the mission of studying them, their life and their world. The book or zine or whatever could be a story of the dinosaur clan introducing themselves and their life to this person. An outsider point of view to excuse learning about them by them teaching this POV person how their world works. There could be some interaction and maybe interviews, and of course illustrations because you need to document your subjects after all.

Like, I'm kinda excited about the idea. It would let me get into the details I want to picture without getting too into the heads of the characters to limit the chances of artistic exploration. You gotta document the surroundings your study subjects live in after all! But you'd still get to know the characters because it's the job of the POV person to learn about them. Win win!

It's just that I don't want to put too much attention on this hypothetical scientist. Like I said before I don't want to mix my settings. The dinosaur project thingy's world IS Laramidia in the Campanian period of late Cretaceous, it's not meant to be a scifi setting, nor do I want to have any focus on any time travel.

Wonder if it would be possible to leave the scientist character vague enough to never actually get explained? They're just nameless outsider from undetermined time and place who's interviewing some dinosaurs. Maybe with some peronal opinions or musings but no anecdotes about their own life or themself. And whenever there's interactions between the scientist and any of the Singing People it just gets handwaved away. (Of course the Singing People are curious about them too, but that's not the point of the study so it just doesn't get documented or something?)

I don't know. Could that work?

[magicaldragons]

'in the name of pain and outrage'

an analysis of the ending

I say this with utmost love, but episode 16 was a shitshow.

i walked into this show accepting it at face value – a show that would take itself lightly, with a compelling subplot marinated in humor, and a dose of sweet romance.

this show tried to include very mature, sobering themes with slapstick humor, which is definitely possible if balanced properly, but i feel this show was not able to achieve this the way do bong soon or others could.

to get some of the discrepancies out of the way:

they never told us that the women's senses were connected, geum joo should not have been able to feel namsoon's thirst – that's something they abruptly added to fuel the tension of the situation.

there is absolutely no reason nam soon would react like that to the drug, when you compare it to how every other user was affected by it.

the strength exerted by gil-joongan did not feel like enough to knock her out like that

and with how easy it would've been to leave the situation, it's very obvious that nam soon taking the drug was an ill-planned way to raise the stakes and increase suspense

the homeless couple truly had nothing of value to add to the show or it's message

none of the show's themes or messages were delivered properly towards the end, and it went against everything it preached.

the immediate tone change after ryu si-o's death did not do any justice to the effort put into his characterization

i do not understand how nam soon became a cop, all technicalities considered

why was she throwing humans out a window from the second floor, even if they're criminals??

they REALLY cheapened the whole marriage conversation by bringing money, property, and heirs into it. that was NOT romantic or wholesome. hee-sik deserves better parents, tf.

side note: i'm pretty disappointed with namsoon's character arc, but lee yoo mi worked within the purview of the script to give us honestly wonderful acting, especially in episode 15.

now, to get into the ending, i'll start with this:

what we got, felt like an empty victory. hollow and out of place.

i've always been an advocate for all parts of a show coming together to create an experience – there's usually no single keystone.

but as soon as si-o died, the rest of the episode felt like a blur, with all loose ends being succinctly wrapped up and prepared for season three. byeon woo seok, and his characterization really carried the show as a unit, and added to its cohesiveness. i did not find myself rooting for geum joo and nam soon's successes afterwards

because they had failed the ONE thing most of us had been hoping for them to do:

to save people who were victims of oppression from those with the power of money, and empower them, including to save si-o from his oppressors, and help him take down pavel.

there is no satisfaction in geum joo doing it by herself, because she has no emotional investment in destroying pavel.

losing hwaja and si-o, watching namsoon & heesik become one dimensional all of a sudden, and seeing tertiary unrelated characters having their loose ends tied, is extremely unsatisfactory – for a show that had an incredible cast and so much potential.

at the same time: i loved the portreyal of gil joongan's mission to help the elderly and her enthusiasm for her future, and the addition of binbin + looking into their past from an additional angle also really elevated the emotional context of si-o's character arc.

i loved each character, truly, and to not see the plot and writers give them the detail and care they deserve, is wholly disappointing.

the show took me on a whole journey, emotionally,,,but to know exactly what would make it better, and be aware of its discrepancies makes me grieve the potential it had to truly leave an impact on its viewers, with a solid takeaway message.

[jaskierx]

If people want to help pay for the bilboards, if they want to buy themselves a warm scarf and fuzzy socks, if they want to buy toys for their dogs, if they want to invest in a massive dildo to fuck their brains with, it's their money and their business to do with it what they bloody hell want. The people who keep shaming ofmd fans... I'd love to see their bank statement. I'm tired of these judgmental assholes.

right

would i personally choose to give to the billboard campaign? no. so i haven’t

but how far do we go if we start yelling about how people are bad and wrong for donating to certain causes over others? are people allowed to spend money on non-essentials at all? what about spending on utilities? technically you don’t need to heat your home, give all your money to palestine and put extra layers on. technically you don’t need to pay so much for hot water, you could cut down your usage by only showering once a week. oh you pay for medication? will you literally die without it? if not, it sounds like a luxury to me

we don’t know what kind of situation people are in. the person getting criticised for giving £5 to the billboard fundraiser might give £50 a month to a gaza relief fund. they might volunteer for 10 hours a week. they might not do anything for charity at all and that’s their right

people need to learn to mind their fucking business

[kandidandi]

A day late and dollar short but I'm HERE and I hope you're ready for some QUESTIONS cause I GOT EM

So their grandfather's loaded, yeah? Like you gotta be to custom order two wholeass bots. I know astronomers make like an annual of 120k but that depends on certification and location etc etc. All of this to ask, is Y/N filthy rich and just living a modest life or are they scraping by while doing their job in the middle of nowhere?

Sun and Moon's freckles are SO CUTE. Has y/n ever considered painting over them to make stars?

I'm so glad y/n is autistic about space and I'm ALSO so glad to hear they're infecting Sun/Moon with that brand of autism too. This isn't a question I just thought that part was really cute.

Are/were the boys at all bitter about their job? Did/Do they resent being made to do these things or was it just par-for-the-course? What about their appearance being tailored to someone else?

Followup question: did this opinion change once they developed a love for space? Did they want to know more about the very thing they were built to resemble? I can't imagine being made to look like the sun or moon and not being invested in learning everything about that.

I looooove how clever they are, proven by the charging cord ploys. Gotta get your human their daily dose of vitamin d and social interaction one way or another! Does y/n actually realize what they're doing, and is just too enamored to refuse them? Or are they really that dense (affectionate)

THE FLOOR PLAN IS SO COOL KANDIIIIII. I LOVE YOUR WORLD BUILDING

Here comes a bunch of unimportant questions: What kind of stuff is kept in the mini fridge? (What are sun/moon's feelings on food?), how often (if ever) does the whiteboard get cleared? How many mugs are on that desk at one time?

Do the boys help y/n up and down those stairs (Does y/n actually Let Them??) or do they just Stand By in case of a fall?

I see those book shelves!! Being an astronomy requires a lot of studying, but is y/n more of a bookworm (goes through novels like candy) or a bookdragon? (hoards books but never actually gets around to reading them)

The boys' sense of fashion looks pretty similar to y/n's. Did they come with those outfits (and do they have multiple to change into), or did y/n get them an upgraded wardrobe after a while?

Where do the boys stay when y/n is sleeping, and what do they do to keep themselves entertained?

Can I send you pictures/music/HCs for this au 👉👈

WUAH THATS A LOT OF QUESTIONS HDSG ok alright *cracks knuckles*

(So their grandfather's loaded, yeah? Like you gotta be to custom order two wholeass bots. I know astronomers make like an annual of 120k but that depends on certification and location etc etc. All of this to ask, is Y/N filthy rich and just living a modest life or are they scraping by while doing their job in the middle of nowhere?)

technically they're just one bot with two personalities but yeah their grandfather is loaded, he was an astronaut and has had many jobs so he's saved up a bunch of money. y/n is an amateur astronomer and earns about $110,000, thats $9,167 a month. (i am NOT going into the nitty gritty of tax and other stuff for my mental wellbeing lmfao) i'd say they're pretty well off, they're not loaded but they're also not scraping by.

(y/n did go to school for astronomy but is mostly self taught, they'd be classified as a professional astronomer instead of an amateur astronomer but isn't since their training wasn't formal)

(Sun and Moon's freckles are SO CUTE. Has y/n ever considered painting over them to make stars?)

HI YES i like to think further in their relationship but not dating yet y/n would look at them and say something like "your freckles kinda look like consolations if you squint hard enough..." and then it turns into y/n drawing on their face with chalk lolol

(I'm so glad y/n is autistic about space and I'm ALSO so glad to hear they're infecting Sun/Moon with that brand of autism too. This isn't a question I just thought that part was really cute.)

WOO thank you hehehehe yes yes the space brainrot must spread! no one is safe hehehe

(Are/were the boys at all bitter about their job? Did/Do they resent being made to do these things or was it just par-for-the-course? What about their appearance being tailored to someone else?)

It was pretty normal though they we're a bit disappointed when they learned they're a care bot, they could've been working some cool job but instead they're stuck with this random person in the middle of nowhere.

About their appearance, just like how humans are born without a choice on what they look like sun and moon don't really mind as well, however, being made to look like something specifically for someone else did feel a bit weird to them but not enough for it to be a huge issue.

(Followup question: did this opinion change once they developed a love for space? Did they want to know more about the very thing they were built to resemble? I can't imagine being made to look like the sun or moon and not being invested in learning everything about that.)

YES IT DID! they didn't care about their look until they got infected with space brainrot and began to read books and search up information on the sun and moon! lolol they were both very pleased to learn theres many many more suns and moons in space and not just the ones in our solar system.

(I looooove how clever they are, proven by the charging cord ploys. Gotta get your human their daily dose of vitamin d and social interaction one way or another! Does y/n actually realize what they're doing, and is just too enamored to refuse them? Or are they really that dense (affectionate))

at first y/n didn't know it was a ploy to get them outside but over time they caught on but pretended not to know because they thought it was funny. after sun and moon learn y/n's known for a while the phrase "our cord is broken" became meaning for "you wanna go outside?" for them hehehe <3

(THE FLOOR PLAN IS SO COOL KANDIIIIII. I LOVE YOUR WORLD BUILDING)

AWWAAAH THANK YOU!!! <3<3<3

(Here comes a bunch of unimportant questions: What kind of stuff is kept in the mini fridge? (What are sun/moon's feelings on food?), how often (if ever) does the whiteboard get cleared? How many mugs are on that desk at one time?)

the minifridge has things like soft drinks (y/n is a fanta kinda guy), many snacks including canned fruit and leftovers from cooking!

sun and moons feeling on food? they dont need to eat so they dont really have an opinion dsjgs but they do like the look of foods like watermelon and lollipops.

the whiteboard only ever gets cleared if y/n doesn't need those specific calculations anymore (the whiteboard gets cleaned about every 4 months)

HOW MANY MUGS. muzzle you've got the best questions lmao /pos LOTS. THERES LOTS. way less now that sun and moon are there tho lol. y/n usually has two or three separate mugs with different drinks in them cuz they get sick of drinking the same one all the time so they alternate.

(Do the boys help y/n up and down those stairs (Does y/n actually Let Them??) or do they just Stand By in case of a fall?)

y/n has grown used to using the stairs so they don't need much help getting up and down. though sun and moon do insist they help y/n anyways (y/n doesn't let them). the only time y/n would need help with the stairs is if they're really really sleepy and cant focus on not falling lolol.

(I see those book shelves!! Being an astronomer requires a lot of studying, but is y/n more of a bookworm (goes through novels like candy) or a bookdragon? (hoards books but never actually gets around to reading them))

y/n is definitely a bookwork! if they're not working in the observatory they're probably downstairs reading the same astrophysics book for the seventh time. they not only have books on space but they also have childhood books like the little prince and the velveteen rabbit

(The boys' sense of fashion looks pretty similar to y/n's. Did they come with those outfits (and do they have multiple to change into), or did y/n get them an upgraded wardrobe after a while?)

When y/n first met sun and moon they had the pants they've got now but a different shirt with the company logo on it! it's made of pretty uncomfortable material tho.

They did indeed come with different kinds of clothes like the vest and undershirt! tho y/n has offered sun and moon their clothing to wear if they get sick of their usual ones (sun and moon will usually wear these clothes if they don't need to go out that day or want to feel cozy).

(Where do the boys stay when y/n is sleeping, and what do they do to keep themselves entertained?)

When y/n is sleeping sun and moon spend time in the observatory looking through the telescope and like to spend time on the internet as well! aside from that they go into town to explore and meet the people living there :>

(Can I send you pictures/music/HCs for this au 👉👈)

YES OF COURSE!!!!!!

[shakingparadigm]

Sooo, like I noticed something.

Ivan's Anakt Garden uniform seems to have a different design than all the other children there. Like his top has a collar on it, which I kind of find ironic since he doesn't even wear a collar (because he's a "good boy" they said). But anyways

The thing is, it goes same for Luka, while slightly similar to the standard Anakt Garden uniform (?), his has a slightly different design on the collar part, yet he's also wearing a collar.

So what's the deal with that, like, if it's based of behavior (y'know being a good pet and all) how come Sua doesn't also have a unique uniform? Or is it a way to Spoil Ivan because of good behavior by his owner, then how come Mizi doesn't also have one(we know she and her owner are on okay kind of terms)

I don't know, just kinda sus in a way.

I just really find it ironic how Ivan's uniform has a collar, whilst he doesn't even wear a collar like all the other children. Like sure, he doesn't wear the collar because of his 'goodboy behavior', yet somehow,

that collar part of his uniform, like somehow symbolizes that while he might not wear that collar like everyone else, he was still not entirely free.

I don't maybe I'm just feeling silly and delusional ahahaha (though I'm not entirely sure if there's a canon explanation for it, is there? Let me know muah muah)

The timing of this ask is impeccable actually I was in the middle of drawing my whole Anakt uniform thing and when I saw this pop up in my inbox I thought to myself: Huh!

Regarding the uniforms: overall, I don't think they're modified for any specific purposes, Ivan and Luka's uniforms are just special because, well, they're special, you know? When your Guardian has money and they really invest in you, it's not too hard for them to switch up your outfit a bit. Just to help you form an image. Maybe even coo at you a little bit and tell you how handsome you look. You know, embarassing shit.

That last paragraph though, wow. There's a lot of ways you can interpret Ivan's "collar". Ivan's shirt collar still technically being a collar, even though he's been gifted privilege (the illusion of free will, exceptionality) at the end of the day he will always remain a pet. I do think that's part of it. After all, how unsightly it would be to see a pet with a bare neck? Wild animal, unable to be restrained, uncivilized, a threat.

Ivan is well-behaved, but his place as a pet must be constantly be made clear, even if the humans may not recognize it that way. In this paradisiacal prison a collar is a collar, whether it fabric or metal. In a way, it seems almost belittling, almost mocking.

No wonder Till's outfits so often consist of wide, open necklines. It must be suffocating to be so restricted.

Moving forward, Sua's uniform is unaltered because although she has a wealthy guardian, they unfortunately don't care much about her. Definitely not enough to give her a special uniform. She's not the type to outwardly want for much, anyway. She's conditioned to wear whatever she's given. She has more pressing matters to worry about.

Mizi's outfit is unaltered too, but for a different reason. Mizi is most likely just satisfied with what she has already. The uniform isn't far from the dress she wore on her way to the Garden, and she's already been established to be a rather free-flowing person. Although her Guardian is more than capable of providing for her wishes and preferences, Mizi doesn't seem to mind simplicity at all. She's just happy to be here!

Anyway, back to Ivan. He forgoes his collar because of his good boy behavior, yes. While the high shirt collar could symbolize the aforementioned false trust, it's also quite in line with Ivan's personal style! He's usually seen with his neck covered, after all. It seems like his trademark. Ivan played himself as more of the mature reserved type (save for whenever he's around Till, apparently), so it makes sense for his owner to commission a uniform that further reinforces this proper and responsible persona. Or maybe it was Anakt Garden that directly issued that uniform to him, who knows. Either way, the uniform makes him stand out and immediately sends the message that he's a special pet.

(Fun fact! Many of Ivan's important outfits center around this theme of uniform, his performance outfit in ROUND 3 literally inspired by the key word uniform.)

I believe Luka's uniform is different because his guardian thought it would be cute. HAHA sorry. no but like genuinely. His collar is quite cutesy and fancy, lines up with Luka's overall trademark aesthetic of white frills and ribbons. Even his sleeves are puffed, like a posh little prince! I can't see a practical explanation for these, they seem purely decorative. And it checks out, because of course someone as influential and desperately prideful as Guardian Heperu would want to make his pet the specialest little boy in the Garden.

On a more serious note, though, I think it further hammers down just how much of a doll Luka is. Sua is described as a doll in her own right, but the difference is that her guardian only cares about her when the cameras are on. Guardian Heperu has his eyes on Luka almost 24/7, attending to his needs for success, ensuring that Luka must remain exceptional. I guess the outfit really helps get across that "little prince" kind of vibe.

There's a chance that the thicker, puffier sleeves of Luka's uniform help him stay warm? I'm not exactly sure about the other ways his heart condition can affect his body, but since he has several health issues I'd assume he has trouble regulating body temperature. And the shoes, isn't that one interesting addition? Luka is the only character sporting footwear in the Garden. It's not like the Garden is "dirty" by any means, as it's just simulation (unless they tried to make this simulation as realistic as possible). Maybe Luka wears shoes once again for health reasons. Perhaps Heperu is just extra protective of Luka.

(Side note: Luka's "shoes" MIGHT be socks. To me they seem more like shoes? But they could very well be socks.)

As far as I know, there's no official explanation for the Anakt uniform variations (honestly, I'd bet if they explained their reasoning Q and V would say they thought it just fit the characters, haha. To me it seems like the uniforms are meant to reflect the characters personalities rather than their circumstances, although just like with Ivan's it could definitely be read both ways).

This is just me speculating too! Thanks for the ask, I really enjoyed talking about this!

[dearlexies]

I just had this idea of a batfam × motorsport au, i mean just imagine: Bruce Wayne is a bored millionaire with lots of money and nothing to do, so he sees Formula 1 as a chance for a big investment. he buys his own team, Wayne's Racing. at the beginning no one had faith that it would work (after all, this is not the first time that a millionaire has bought a team in motorsport and thinks it will be a success ((I'm looking at you Lawrence Stroll))) and of course it didn't work. So Bruce starts investing a LOT in this, Wayne Companies manufactures its own parts, he looks for the best engineers and system analysts in the world to work for him, and of course like any millionaire he puts his children on his team (I'll get to this about nepotism and such later, focus on the team) 2025 is when there is a change in the tide of formula 1, the regulations will change and that is great because now the teams are closer to each other Mercedes is no longer the same and is starting to show signs of weakness, Red Bull it's also not the same since Horner was arrested (bc that's something should actually happen) and Adrian Newey left the team. So now comes the chance for a new team to win. At the beginning all eyes were on Ferrari (as always) Aston Martin which has progressed a lot since the last few years and Mclaren, but then suddenly Wayne's Racing starts winning a lot of races. As the championship comes to an end, Lewis Hamilton wins his eighth title, but Wayne's Racing wins the constructors' championship, leaving everyone shocked. This new team that came out of nowhere only needed one year to become champion and now everyone is extremely curious to see what comes next

Well, other day I will talk about Bruce's kids bc Jason is definitely a motogp rider and there's a lot of drama bc he left Wayne's Racing for Al Ghul Team. and Tim oh he's not a racing drive, he never really liked racing but he likes the technical parts, the engineering, the strategies, so he became a sports journalist and lived his whole life in this environment full of racers. And there's also other characters that I've thought like kon, bart, wally, roy, kori etc

[wordsandrobots]

Apropos of half-awake thoughts this morning, I've been considering the perennial subject of people coming into fan-works and making demands of the writer or artist in regards to their creative choices. You know, 'this is wrong', 'you should change this', 'make more!!!' etc. It's been quite some years since I had to deal with that kind of behaviour but I've seen it happen to other people and it always sucks. Today my brain has decided to connect it to Humphrey Smith.

Story time: the town I come from has three breweries. The reason for this is that the limestone we're built atop filters the local water, making it 1) good and hard and 2) easy to access. Technically we're a market town but brewing is the foundation of our modern economy.

Two of these breweries, John Smith's and Sam Smith's, are the remnants of the brewing empire started by John Smith, a Victorian gentleman endowed with truly spectacular mutton-chops and also money, who bought an existing brewery in the town before building a new, much more impressive one further up the street. After his death, the business was left to his brothers, one of whom would go on to leave the old brewery to his nephew Samuel. Thus, the empire split into two. Both halves are still operating and have been successful enough that the current owner of Sam Smith's -- Humphrey -- is the biggest land-owner in the town.

Here is where the problems begin. You see Humphrey is, to put it gently, crackers. He suffers from being exceptionally wealthy and, despite some motions towards investing in local amenities, largely exists on a moral crusade against the changing social mores of the 20th Century. He won't countenance any businesses that does not contribute to the atmosphere of a sleepy market town (read: basically anything), refuses to maintain or sell off his properties, leaving the place full of the rotting shells of buildings, and he's been at war with the town council so long, they're currently planning to build on a flood plane that does indeed routinely get swamped by the river just to have somewhere to put new houses.

The man is not well-liked, is what I'm saying. And among his 'charming eccentricities' are the strict requirements he enforces on the pubs he owns. Any Sam Smith's pub must be run by people of good moral character (preferably a married man and woman), there must be no music and no phones, no swearing, no motorcyclists, no kissing, etc, etc. Basically imagine the dourest stereotype of Yorkshire grimness and that's what he's actively aiming for (no I am not kidding, just check out the 'controversies' section of the Sam Smith's wikipedia page).

Anyway, the point of all this is that there's a lovely tale shared around the town about how, one day, our Humphrey walked into a local pub and said to the bar-tender something to the effect of, 'Switch off that music, throw those people out, take down those fixtures and fittings, this is not the Victorian traditionalism I pay you for.'

Only, the bar-tender leant over the bar and replied, 'well that's nice, Mr Smith, but this isn't one of your pubs.'

Should you find yourself in the position of having some dipstick with fixed opinions swan into your work and start telling you everything you've gotten wrong, I think you could do worse than bear this heroic chap's words in mind. Your work is not their pub. They have no claim on what you make and no grounds for enforcing their vision over yours. They aren't paying you, you aren't working for them, and frankly, they have profoundly misunderstood the situation if they think they're entitled to tell you want to do.

This is true even in the face of widely accepted fanon or when you're cutting against general expectations. In fandom, every piece of art is the result of our own personal reactions to a piece of media. We can decorate our individual pubs however we want and if other people don't like it, well, they can lump it. Go forth and do what you like, music and kissing and all!

[This post brought to you by the belated 11 year anniversary of that berk on dA who spent ages arguing with my attempt at redesigning the Quarks from Doctor Who. The *bloody Quarks*, man! Sheesh.]

[rekino2114]

Random texts they send you with p.e.g ladies

I already did this with drdt, and I liked it so I wanted to do it with more fandoms

Cassidy amber

Pro gamer gf🕷🎮❤️:my chat doesn't believe you're real

Y/n:What?

Pro gamer gf🕷🎮❤️:I was telling them that I had a partner and no one believed me

Y/n:And what am I supposed to do about that?

Pro gamer gf 🕷🎮❤️:isn't it obvious? You need to come here and prove them wrong

Y/n:cass, it's almost midnight it's a miracle I even picked up. I'm not gonna go to your house

Pro gamer gf🕷🎮❤️: come on please It's gonna be a short stream and I have pizza,soda and the sleeping schedule of a streamer on my side

Y/n:Fine but you're gonna have to cuddle me to sleep

Pro gamer gf🕷🎮❤️:of course consider it done babe

Wenona

Y/n:Hey Wenona do you know why I just received a notification that you sent 500$ to my bank account

(Not) my Sugar mommy💸💛: oh that, a few investments went well and I wanted to send some cash to you

Y/n: But don't you need that money?

(Not) my Sugar mommy: baby please that's not even a fraction of what I make in a month.

Y/n:And then you wonder why people think you're my Sugar mommy

(Not) my Sugar mommy: Can't I just spoil you once in a while? Also, what did you have me saved as in your phone again?

Y/n:touchè

Diana venicia

Beautiful beautician🦎💄💜:Y/N,Y/N,Y/N you won't believe what happened.

Y/n: oh what is it babe?

Beautiful beautician🦎💄💜:a really famous actress just entered the salon after she had a make-over she told me she loved it and that she was gonna recommend me to all her friends.

Y/n:That's amazing. I'm so proud of you, Diana

Beautiful beautician🦎💄💜: Oh no, it's not my merit. I just did my job

Y/n: Don't sell yourself short. Your makeovers are amazing, and I speak from experience

Beautiful beautician🦎💄💜:thanks so much sometimes I need the reassurance

Y/n:I'll reassure you every time I need to cause I love you

Grace madison

Hot angry golfer🏌‍♀️🐰🩵:I swear the next time I see that gremlin I'm gonna kill her

Y/n:What did toshiko do this time?

Hot angry golfer🏌‍♀️🐰🩵:she was going on about how I never do romantic stuff for you she said you're gonna break up with me if I continue

Y/n:I would never I know you're not the romantic type but I still love you

Hot angry golfer 🏌️‍♀️🐰🩵:you better not if you dare break up with me I'll kick your ass now, come over here, and I need to calm down

Y/n:sure babe

Eloise taulner

Y/n: sweetie, when were you gonna tell me that you won a tournament

Cute swordgirl🤺🦢🤍:Oh, it wasn't that important. I thought you wouldn't care

Y/n:Eloise whatever you do is important to me if you told me i would have cheered you on

Cute swordgirl🤺🦢🤍:you really would have done that?

Y/n:of course I love you and I want to celebrate all of your accomplishments.

Cute swordgirl🤺🦢🤍:thank you so much I really love you too

Eva tsunaka

Pinocchio gf🤍🖤: I would like to go on a date with you because I was feeling bored. Are you busy?

Y/n:are you lying right now?

Pinocchio gf🤍🖤:no I'm not

Y/n:but technically couldn't that also be a lie cause of your ultimate?

Pinocchio gf🤍🖤:babe we've already been through this I will only be truthful with you and i will ever lie to you

Y/n:Thanks I was just joking I'm gonna come right now

Pinocchio gf🤍🖤:ok but can you stop with that joke it was getting annoying

Y/n:that means you love it and I should continue it!

Pinocchio gf🤍🖤: can you hear me sigh through the phone?

Sorry I can't think of anything for Ingrid and I know this sucks

[my-soupy-brain]

haven’t asked for a jason prompt yet but thought of one just now that I know you’d make my day with writing — jason taking reader on a date to a sports game of his choice (basketball/soccer/baseball)

THE DREAM. I'd love to swear and shout and clap and cheer at a game with him. Having someone who enjoys live sports as much as him would likely be such a turn on. Let's gooo!

---

Relationship: Jason Sudeikis x reader

Warnings: Fluff, fun + teasing

---

"You sure you wanna go? I get a little intense at these things," Jason says with a laugh, wiping off the lenses of his glasses on his hoodie.

"What makes you think I don't wanna be able to cuss in public and not get stared at for it? I'm all about it."

Jason chuckles and watches as you put on your New York Liberty t-shirt, affixing a NY Liberty temporary tattoo on your cheek.

"You are goin' all out, aren't ya?" he asks, coming up behind you with his hands on your hips, watching you peel off the paper.

"Oh yeah. This is gonna be great."

...

You make your way to your seats, low near the floor, and you meet Jason's friends who are sitting next to him. They smile seeing you're as invested in this game as he is.

The first quarter brings excitement. Jason's on the screen, along with some other celebrities in attendance. You smile proudly at him.

"Is that ever weird for you?" you ask during a timeout. He shrugs.

"A little. I'm just a fan like anyone else here, really..."

A steal by the Liberty means you're both on your feet, clapping, shouting. When one of the women gets a foul that doesn't look legit, you're back on your feet.

"Fuck that! Where are your eyes, ref?!" you shout, and Jason chuckles.

"She's... pretty into this," he tells his friend, who smiles and agrees positively to your enthusiasm.

You open a pack of candy and without taking your eyes off the court, offer the box to Jason, who takes a few pieces.

"You like Sour Patch Kids, too?" he jokes, smiling at you.

"Duh! The best."

Another incredible steal and a three-point shot by the Liberty and you're on your feet, jumping up and down and clapping.

"Yeah! Hell yeah!" you shout, and Jason's right there with you, shouting and clapping. When you sit back down, he leans in and gives you a quick peck on the lips, smiling brightly.

Fans are taking photos of the two of you, splashed across social media.

Always love seeing Sudeikis at the Liberty games. Looks like he's got an enthusiastic friend to join him!

Got a run for your money, Sudeikis! She's as into this as you are!

TFW a couple enjoys the same things with the same enthusiasm.

Jason's friend shows him the last tweet and Jason blushes and smiles. "That's my girl."

"GO GO GO! Yes!" you shout, clapping and keeping your eyes trained on the action.

"What do you wanna do after this?" he asks you, leaning into your ear. You don't let your eyes leave the court.

"Whatever you wanna do, sweetpea," you answer. "GO! Yes! Make that three!"

He can't stop laughing. Every time he tries to get a moment with you to himself, you're back on your feet.

...

The game ends and Jason gets photos with the team, and one of the women asks him who you are.

"Love seeing fans like her," she says, and Jason smiles.

"Yeah, she's a pistol!" he replies.

"We could hear her. She's got a set of lungs on her!"

Jason laughs again. "That she does."

When you leave the stadium, your voice is cracked from yelling and cheering, and he smiles at you as you make your way back to his Brooklyn home.

On the way up the stairs, he gives you a kiss.

"I was hoping to be the reason you lose your voice," he murmurs to your lips, his hands finding your hips under your t-shirt.

"Well, well, well. Looks like you'll just have to be the one to finish the job then, eh?"

Jason tugs you inside and closes the door.

"Is that a challenge?" he asks while he lifts up your shirt and walks you backward toward the bedroom.

"I dunno, you gonna call a technical on me if I say yes?"

He growls as he kisses your neck, your hands unbuttoning his jeans.

"I could be persuaded to let that one slide..." he murmurs against your neck, his greedy hands tugging you closer and leaning you down on the bed.

"Well let me see if I can convince you then, ref."

---

This was fun and cute and flirty. I bet he'd love someone going as nuts for the lives sports as he does. What a date night! And yay! Sexytimes! Heehee. Thanks for the prompt, friend!

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

6. [Conceptualization - Godly 16] Present an investment plan that is sure to fail.

-2 Art degree useless.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Godly: Failure] - Congratulations, you've somehow managed to fail at failing, which means, in a strange way, that you've succeeded?

"You should invest in a youth centre."

MEGA RICH LIGHT BENDING GUY - "A youth centre, huh? What *kind* of youth centre?"

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT [Medium: Success] - A place to train *buff kids*.

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - A place to teach them practical skills like teamwork and self-discipline.

CONCEPTUALIZATION - Come on. Tell him what he wants to hear.

"One dedicated to instilling liberal economic values in children from low-net-worth families."

"One to inspire the future leaders of tomorrow to public service."

"You know, a regular youth centre, with basketball courts and stuff. To *really* develop their physical proficiency."

"You know, a regular youth centre, with basketball courts and stuff. To teach teamwork and other emotional skills."

MEGA RICH LIGHT BENDING GUY - "No, no, no. You've got to think *bigger* than that."

2. "One to inspire the future leaders of tomorrow to public service."

+1 Moralism

MEGA RICH LIGHT BENDING GUY - "Hmmm," the man thinks for a moment.

"I like that you're thinking about the future, but couldn't the centre have a more... economic focus?"

"One dedicated to instilling liberal economic values in children from low-net-worth families."

+1 Ultraliberalism

MEGA RICH LIGHT BENDING GUY - "Brilliant! Without children who'll be there to buy stuff in the future?"

"Yes. And if it doesn't work out, we can always re-purpose the centre as a shopping mall or private equity firm."

MEGA RICH LIGHT BENDING GUY - "When life closes a door, it opens a window, yes? What's the expected return on this?"

"Highly educated, work-ready, human capital ready to be directed toward any number of your vast interests."

"With human beings there's always a risk associated. Which is why we've got to hold onto the centre itself as a fallback."

CONCEPTUALIZATION - You're deep into ultraliberal territory now. Good work.

MEGA RICH LIGHT BENDING GUY - "Very impressive. You've got a natural eye for unusual investment opportunities."

"Thank you."

"I know."

MEGA RICH LIGHT BENDING GUY - "I don't normally do this without a formal pitch deck, but to hell with it, what's the point of being rich if you have to follow all the rules?"

"Here's a round of seed funding. This should be enough to prove out the concept and get things off the ground."

+100 real

We have already bought basically everything in the game, so on a technical level this is useless to us.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Medium: Success] - CHA-CHING. What'll it be? Speed? Vodka? Cigarettes?

HORRIFIC NECKTIE - *Bratan*, now's your chance to take some time off. Spend it with your good buddy, and get absolutely *wrecked* in the process.

"Hmm. Drugs do go well with money, I agree."

"I'm sorry, man, I'm an investor now -- I have to stay sober to calculate risks."

HORRIFIC NECKTIE - What is this shit?!? CALCULATING RISKS? *BRATAN*. THE RISKS YOU CANT CALCULATE ARE THE ONLY ONES WORTH TAKING!

"I'm sorry. I just don't see the ROI in that."

"I'll give it some thought."

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant looks at you with horror. You've been mumbling to your necktie in a daze for several minutes.

MEGA RICH LIGHT BENDING GUY - "Ah, yes. Now you're displaying it... the *eccentricity* that becomes a wealthy individual." If the money-saint's visage weren't wrapped in physics-defying light, you would see his approval.

"Thank you for placing your unwavering *trust* in me."

"Thanks for the handout."

MEGA RICH LIGHT BENDING GUY - "Remember: it's not a *handout*, it's an investment. And I expect to see returns."

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant stands there, dumbfounded. His mouth opens slightly, then closes again.

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Medium: Success] - Is he having a stroke?

"What do you think, Kim? Not bad, huh?"

"Kim, are you alright?"

"Kim, are you having a stroke?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "No, I am *not* having a stroke. You're just... still full of surprises. Most of them bad, but some good..."

+1 Reputation

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - The lieutenant has granted you an aura of legitimacy. Bathe in it, but don't let your satisfaction show. Play it cool.

MEGA RICH LIGHT BENDING GUY - "Now, was there anything else I could help you gentlemen with?"

There is not.

5. "We should get back to our investigation. Thanks for your time." [Leave.]

MEGA RICH LIGHT BENDING GUY - "The pleasure was mine. Unfortunately, I must be away soon. The next time we meet, I'll be expecting an update on my investment!"

"Farewell, friend, and may your peace of mind guide you to happiness."

A thought is triggered.

SAVOIR FAIRE - Wow, you work *hard*.

I do?

(Discard thought).

SAVOIR FAIRE - Oh, yes. You hustle. You're a provider. It's tough out there, but you keep it real and provide...

I guess I do, yeah.

What hard work do I do exactly?

SAVOIR FAIRE - Oh yeah! Like a horse. A work horse. For hard work.

What hard work do I do exactly?

SAVOIR FAIRE - Look at yourself, you're a human pedometer! You must have walked 200,000 steps down cracked asphalt, mosaic, sand, and linoleum after you re-emerged.

That is the sign of a hustler who never gives up. The world is harsh and people are evil -- you didn't make it that way. And you won't let it break you. You *ride*.

Yeah, I ride. A little.

I fuckin' ride till I die, bitch.

I'm not sure I *ride*...

SAVOIR FAIRE - Oh, you do. You *make* money. You got gills, baby, meaning those black papers with the faces of the innocences on them. You bring in the Franconegros and the Solas.

It ain't easy, but you *do* it. Day in and day out. You didn't make the rules but you won't lose! You're a cop and a sprinter and a money printer.

I mean yeah, I *did* take that bribe from that Joyce woman.

Can't say I didn't make that Siileng guy give some of his money either.

You could say I took some money from that Mañana guy too.

Oh, and then there's pawning stuff off to that suspicious Roy guy.

I guess I've made *some* gills, sure.

SAVOIR FAIRE - Oh yeah, you took that bribe *hard*. You're a killa'.

2. Can't say I didn't make that Siileng guy give some of his money either.

SAVOIR FAIRE - Can't say that -- you *shook* him. You're a killer. A shark.

3. You could say I took some money from that Mañana guy too.

SAVOIR FAIRE - You didn't log that in as a donation either -- you don't log any of that shit in, you're a straight rider.

4. Oh, and then there's pawning stuff off to that suspicious Roy guy.

SAVOIR FAIRE - Yeah, you're in the sales business. Shake 'em for shit and then pawn it off, *law officer*-style.

5. I guess I've made *some* gills, sure.

SAVOIR FAIRE - Sure, sure. And has it been easy? Is life easy? Have you *not* gone into cardiac arrest? Are you *not* about to have an anxiety attack or shoot yourself in the mouth? But you still hustle 24/7, ride or die. Now, ask yourself...

...are you *rich*?

Yes. Quite.

No, I'm actually *not*.

SAVOIR FAIRE - That's right. You work harder than *anyone*, you almost rode yourself to the grave and you're still practically a *hobo* -- why is that?

It's because of that Garte guy riding my ass!

The system is broken!

There's a market for corrupt cops out there, but the immigrant cops have price dumped it.

Fucking taxes, man.

I don't know. Why *am* I so poor?

SAVOIR FAIRE - The Garte-man has set himself up one of those self replicating money-structures. You should *learn* from it. Don't play the victim. Think, hustler. Think with your head.

2. The system is broken!

+1 Communism

SAVOIR FAIRE - Boohoo, *the system is broken*. *The establishment is keeping me down...* That's not the fuck-yeah attitude you're used to, what is this? Why are you so poor?

Skipping the fascist option...

4. Fucking taxes, man.

+1 Ultraliberalism

SAVOIR FAIRE - That's right! One-hundred percent. Fucking G-man's got his jam-covered sticky-fingers in your pocket, stealing from you every time you buy, sell, walk, talk, fart, so much as sneeze!

RHETORIC [Medium: Success] - Aren't taxes almost non-existent in the Gossamer State that is Revachol?

I thought there *were* no taxes.

Really? Every time I sneeze?

SAVOIR FAIRE - You and I both, but they got those *indirect modes of taxation*. Sales tax, excise duty, extraction tax, this tax that doesn't even have a name -- plus there's the stuff *people in other countries* pay for, that makes them ask for more money from *you* here! The Gossamer State's a myth. In total the Coalition Government is taking...

NINETY-EIGHT PERCENT OF ALL YOUR MONEY.

NO FUCKING WAY. I guess I'm a free market fundamentalist now. (Opt in.)

Are you sure? That seems like a pretty big number…

This isn't helping me solve my money problem, it's only making me into a free-market type. (Opt out.)

SAVOIR FAIRE - What are you not sure about?! They're *milking* your nipples till they bleed. Can't you see? Aren't you *sick and tired* of having bloody nipples?

[jamiesfootball]

One of the things that’s been noodling in my head since the finale is how Ted Lasso plays the forgiveness card in regards to the Tartt Sr situation.

Yes, I’ve banged on this drum before. I shall bang on it again. Buh-dum.

Bear with me as I start from the outside and work my way in by first referencing a moment from a different show.

In Leverage, there’s an episode where they convince the guy they’re trying to take down to break out of police custody by making him think he’s in the middle of a deadly epidemic that’s being covered up by the government. The details of this aren’t important, but when Nate is explaining why it worked, he says something along the lines of ‘there’s a part of your brain that’s meant to question and make judgements. What we did was we tapped into the emotional center of his brain, so that he would forget to question anything.’

Now I'm paraphrasing, but this is actually a good summary of how a lot of cons work- they create an emotional story and a sense of relationship, to make you forget to ask ‘wait does this guy just want my money.’ Think of scary voicemails telling you your student loans got sent to collections and you need to call now. Think Nigerian Prince schemes. Think car dealerships.

Because that is the power of a story when the narrative structure follows all the guidelines. You become invested, and you believe the narrative. (This is also why Jump the Shark exists, when a narrative has wobbled so off its tracks that the belief becomes suspended, but I digress.)

So the issue for me with regards to the James Tartt Sr story line, is that from a technical standpoint the wider Story of Ted Lasso did meet the minimum requirements for ‘believable.' My coworker, for instance, absolutely loved how ALL the story lines tied up in the finale, including that one. She couldn’t explain why, she just said it was ‘really nice and it worked for her.’

But I’ll highlight that bit in the middle—she couldn’t explain why—because that’s the thrust of the situation. The Story, from her perspective, told a satisfying emotional conclusion by hitting all the correct points. It essentially did what a con does, and in the resulting emotion she failed to question it.

And I think therein lies the trouble with the Jamie's dad story line. Because it is being told within the scope of a broader narrative, it is allowed to coast on the merits of the rest of the narrative. For three seasons, the show preaches forgiveness and second chances and people having depth, so when it asks you to do it again at the end - with Jamie's dad, hell I'd even say with Rupert for a hot second - you already have within you all the emotional build-up to say 'yes.'

Except that the buildup doesn’t happen with James, or even Rupert, it happens to the people that they hurt. Jamie’s the one who learned how to be better. Jamie is the one who tried to make amends to the people he hurt. Jamie is the one who had to un-fuck his whole life. Jamie earned all of that emotional payoff.

His dad did not.

So the show sells you one emotional story, and at the end shuffles in another to reap the benefits of it.

But just like a con only works as long as you don’t start to question it, the second you question the James Tartt Sr storyline the more you realize how much of that work happened elsewhere in the story.

You know those youtube videos that are cut together scenes of ‘every time This Character talks about Big Plot Point’? Think of those videos. Sometimes they’re a concentrated dose of very high tense moments, but sometimes they’re a little anemic, aren’t they? Sometimes you watch those videos and realize just how much heavy lifting other scenes did just to imply that the narrative was moving forward.

Well if you made a youtube video of ‘all the scenes that mention / have James Tartt Sr in them’ and cut them together, you definitely do NOT get an emotionally satisfying ending. In fact you go from someone who implies that their father is violent, to seeing their father be violent, to seeing their father threaten violence to his kid, to seeing him inflict that violence on someone else in place of his kid, to the kid confiding in someone else that even more fucked up shit happened, to the kid’s mom trying to console him, to the kid literally showing symptoms of PTSD at the idea his father might be around-

-to someone asking him if maybe he should try to let that go

-to their dad being proud of them

-to reestablishing contact

-to a happy montage of them smiling together the end.

At bare minimum there is an entire confrontation missing. And that is minimum. Minimum narrative work said this storyline should have had a climax. But this is a storyline that did not breathe on its own- it relied on a dozen smaller, unrelated, moments to give it the illusion of a satisfying ending.

And since it was weaved in with the rest, to some people – people who were too in vested in the story to question it – that was a great ending. That was a perfect ending.

That’s the illusion of telling a story- people are predisposed to believing the story that is being told, to the point where they will forget to ask questions.

When people talk about this kind of narrative being a dangerous one? That’s where that comes from. That’s what it means. It’s not just that someone depicted a story of someone forgiving their abuser, it’s that the did it in such a way that that isn’t even what happened. Most of the time it is the narrative that forgives the abuser, not the character. The character doesn’t get to scream and cry and let out all the pain they suffered. The character doesn’t get to set boundaries and learn to experience the world safely. The character, often times, isn’t even worth an apology from the person who hurt them.

It isn't the character who gets closure in these narratives; it's the audience who does. And it’s so insidious that it can very nearly trick a person in real life into thinking that maybe they too will get closure if they forgive someone – without ever realizing that in these stories, the narrative was never on their side in the first place.