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end-otw-racism · 1 year

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I’m so impressed by the energy and passion in this project, and of course I agree with the goal, but I am wondering: wouldn’t it make sense to channel some of this energy into volunteering with the OTW and implementing the changes being called for? The impression I’m getting from the OTW is that they largely already agree that the issues being pointed out are problems (as it says in the blog description they have acknowledged it years ago) and they would like to address them, they just don’t have the people to actually do that. If they did, presumably they already would have done it, right?

I’ve done some volunteer work in other organizations and every one of them had long lists of stuff they wanted to do, and every year similar wishes were brought up by new people coming in, but most of those things never happened because the people in the org spent most of their time just keeping the org running. That’s not to say that changes didn’t happen - they did, just slowly, and one at time. But each change required people in the org to either stop doing whatever work they were already doing and instead work on implementing the change, or for new people to come in and do it.

In my experience, if you want to see change in volunteer-based organizations, you need to be that change.

This response is going to be lengthy, so buckle in. And while this response may get a bit intense, it is not necessarily directed right at the asker. This is just a common deflection tactic we have seen time and again when people call for change.

To start, we’d like to remind everyone that we are only five individuals. The OTW might need more volunteers, but adding five more people to the bucket, when the OTW has around 1,000 volunteers, isn’t going to address the issue.

Secondly, it has come to light - thanks in part to our protest - that the OTW is dealing with some serious structural issues including an inability to address problems because of the over-dependence on the Legal Department. These issues both mean that the OTW isn’t in the position to onboard as many volunteers as it needs and that volunteers are being harmed while being unable to enact the change they wish to see. Adding five more bodies into the mix would just result in five more volunteers being harmed by the OTW’s dysfunction.

We have little faith that, should we enter the organization for the purpose of change we would not be undermined and hung out to dry much like Chinese fans have been recently.

We agree with you (and the org does too!) that they do not have the actual people to do the work that needs to be done. Which is why we are specifically calling for them to do what they said they would in order to get it done: hire people who can actually do it.

We currently, with this action and platform we are building, see ourselves as very much part of the change we want to see. Enacting structural change requires a multi-faceted approach. It needs voices outside an organization who are willing to speak up in identifying issues they see with the organization’s work, like Stitch and Dr. Pande. It needs the willingness of those within the organization to facilitate and enact change. But it also needs accountability. We feel our role as users impacted by the OTW’s actions (or inactions) but outside the organization itself, allows us to act as voices of accountability, to hold the OTW to its promises and demand it live up to its ideals and responsibilities. Our role cannot be fulfilled within the organizational structure itself.

Volunteering is an act of labor that we feel we are currently engaging in within a space we feel safe doing so. Asking fans of color to volunteer to make changes within an organization with known toxicity and abuse towards its volunteers, that we know does not do enough to protect even its users from racial abuse, to join up to ‘fix’ things, to expect that we are the ones that should do the hard work of restructuring the organization, is to ask us to do something for which we have repeatedly explained we are not qualified to do and to ask us to fix something we did not break.

To take the spirit of Taika Watiti this past week. We don’t want to be doing this. We don’t want to have to fix this mess. We want to be writing our silly little stories about our favorite little blorbos. But instead we have to be here, calling for the OTW to fix the mess that they created. And now, by saying ‘just go volunteer to change things from within’ you are demanding that we expose ourselves to abuse and toxicity to fix something we did not break. Fans of color did not set the current system up. We did not introduce racism into the OTWs organizational structure. Why would the only avenue for change that is acceptable be to put ourselves in harm’s way to do labor to fix something we did not cause in a space where we would be only 5 new voices within an existing entrenched organizational culture of nearly 1000 people? Where is the responsibility of the people who actually do have the power to fix things right now?

And for us to do this all for an organization that has demonstrated a repeated unwillingness to change? When we feel that the work we are doing here is just as important and valuable? Should we disappear silently into the organization so you - the passive user with the privilege to be using the site without being harmed - can continue using AO3, oblivious to the harms it is perpetuating so you can continue enjoying that privilege with a clear conscience?

Volunteering at this point seems, to us, the least effective way to actually push for change and the one that will cause us, as individuals, the most harm while doing nothing to actually change anything for anyone.

When the OTW has demonstrated actual concrete actions towards change, hired the people they have promised to hire, communicated transparently with their user base about the scale and content of the proposed changes, provided evidence of protections for volunteers from known past toxicity and clearly identified what kind of volunteers they need, in what capacity, and with specific skillsets, then sure, maybe some of us involved out here may feel motivated to jump in and work for that change. We don’t object to laboring to improve a space we love, we object to doing it fruitlessly.

However, all of the problems we have listed are characteristic of white supremacy culture in orgs: power hoarding, lack of transparency, defensiveness, believing there's only one right way, a culture of overwork, the idea that you as an individual could be responsible for the failure of the org because it is under constant threat.

In order for any of us to feel safe in actually participating within the organization, the OTW has to make the first step to improving itself by addressing their internal structural issues. It can be painful to bring these issues into the light, but it’s the only way for the OTW to move forward in a positive direction.

#fandom against racism #otw #ao3 #organization for transformative works #endotwracism #end otw racism #They made promises to make the org less racist. Until they fulfill those promises #volunteering is just jumping into a wood chipper.

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drunkenbagel · 1 year

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Enchanted to meet you - Part 3

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Spanish f!reader Contents: overall fluff, descriptions of panic attack, angst with comfort a/n: i'm so so sorry for being away so long, i somehow lost access to the account and couldn't post anything!! also have been on a kind of writer's block, so i'm sorry for that too lol. for this part i added some media, let me know if you like it :D Word count: 5,5k Disclaimer: none of the photos used are mine and therefore i do not own them, i just edited them.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Your side of the video call stayed silent for a moment, while you were trying to process what Pedro just said.

“y/n? Did I lost you?” he asked, and groaned. “Maldita cobertura de LA” (Damned LA reception.)

“Wha- What did you just say?” you questioned again. “Are you kidding me right now? Because if you are, no te lo perdonaré nunca.” (I'll never forgive you)

”What? I just-” he started another sentence, but he was interrupted by someone asking to take a picture with him. You quickly silenced your mic and turned off your camera, not wanting to be seen by the people he was with. They would probably get the wrong idea, getting him in trouble. Not to mention the controversy and the incessant hate train that the situation would create. You knew Pedro was sensitive when it came to hurt and pain, even if it didn't seem that way just because he brushed it off with goofiness and some jokes. So, you tried your best to avoid any kind of problem that seeing someone like you with him could cause. After a few minutes, he focused his phone on his face again.

“Hey, sorry about that, darlin'” he said with a side smile. “Some people asked- Are you still there?”

You connected your mic and camera again. “Yeah, sorry. Didn't want to disturb you.”

He frowned. “Don't say that. You don't.”

You felt a small pang on your chest, but you brushed it off by jumping again to the previous topic.

“So, what is that thing you were telling me? You're inviting me where?”

“Oh, yeah! I was thinking if you'd like to come with me to Los Angeles. I've got some long filming ahead and was wondering if you'd like to visit me. I'm going to stay at my house here, and of course, as my best friend, you have a designated room” he said laughing. “I could show you around and stuff. You know, to see the beautiful places here.”

“I mean... I'd sure as hell would love it, don't get me wrong or anything” you said, letting out a nervous chuckle. “But, uhm...”

You didn't know how to tell him that you were dying to see Los Angeles since you moved to the United States, but that you were afraid to be outside with him and the consequences that it could bring. You two had been basically best friends for almost two and a half years now, but he was still a celebrity, for fuck's sake. And you were... Average. You always tried to be really careful when going outside with him. Wasn't he afraid of being seen with you? It was easier to blend in the few times you two went out in New York, especially since you preferred to go out mostly at night-time or just hang out at his house.

“Then it's settled! I'll be back there in like a week, and after a few days we can come back here for as long as you like. I think it'll be so fun being here with you, you'll love this! I'll show you so many things here. Oh, I also could show you around the studios, maybe you'll see someone from those crime shows you're obsessed with.”

“Hey! Why the cute rant and then you attack me? Not fair” you said cracking a small smile. “I appreciate your invite, really, but... I don't know, I have my job, my rent...”

“y/n, since your promotion you practically work from home. You don't go to the office anymore. And about your apartment, you always complain about the landlord, the sink, the place itself. Si no es esto, es lo otro. Why don't you move out and look for anything else?” (If it's not this, it's that.)

“I-” you tried to think of any excuses, but he was right. You had been looking for apartments, but it was very difficult to find anything decent in New York with an average paycheck. You sighed, defeated. “Look, I know you're right, but what do you want me to do? Just magically find something?”

He hummed, and brought his hand to his chin, thinking. You almost laughed. It looked like he was thinking so hard. After a few moments, he snapped his fingers.

“Here's the deal. I know this filming is going to be at least three months, so how about you stay with me here, and then you can stay at mine in New York? You know you have a room at my place anyways.”

“What? That is not-” You felt your cheeks heat up. How could he be so calm about this? “So that is your solution? You want me to move in with you?”

“I wouldn't say that, it's more like... A temporary solution until you find a place for yourself. You know you practically spend all your time in my house when I'm there! Also, you could stop paying rent for that shithole while staying with me, so I only see positive points here. Am I wrong?”

He smiled at the camera while you ran a hand through your hair, stressed. He had a very valid point, of course, but he said it so casually that it left you a bit dumbfounded. So did this mean that he didn't care to be seen with you? His New York apartment was in a multiple housing building, so it was always easier for you to go in unnoticed. But Los Angeles? You didn't know if that was possible. People there were more used to seeing celebrities, of course, but the anxious thoughts were not leaving you alone.

“Hey, I hope I'm not making you uncomfortable or anything. You know you can always say no” he said with a worried tone.

“I know, I know. I was just thinking...” you sighed. “You're right. But are you sure you don't mind me being there with you? Or anywhere close for that matter? Are you sure it's okay? Because I wouldn't-”

“Y'think I would have said it if I didn't mean it? You're offending me!” he said laughing. “Now, seriously. I'd love to have you around more. You know I miss you when we're apart.”

“Aw, mi Pedrito se enterneció. ¡Te he ablandado! How did you live without me?” you joked. (My little Pedro got soft. I have softened you!)

His could feel his cheeks getting red, but he tried to brush it off. “Anda, cállate. Do you accept my deal or not? The offer is now for limited time.” (C'mon, shut up.)

“Okay, okay! I do accept” you said laughing. “But I'll need help with moving if I have to leave everything at your apartment before going to LA. You help me or the deal is off.”

“You got it” he said with a wide smile. The way his eyes wrinkled while he was smiling or laughing made your heart skip a beat. It was too cute for your heart to handle, you loved it. The way he grasped onto anyone around him while he let out the cutest belly laugh, or how contagious they were.

Little did you know he was thinking the same thing about you. Pedro loved your laugh, especially when it was shared with him. Oh, how his heart started to beat faster every time you sent him a message. Or how that one time you were video chatting him and you felt so comfortable that you fell asleep still in the call. He ended up just watching you sleep soundly before falling asleep ‘beside you’. And now he was going to have you under the same roof? He felt like he was the happiest man in the world when you accepted. He couldn't believe you did. He had been thinking about asking you since you always complained about how awful your landlord was, or how he refused to fix anything. Truth be told, he wanted to punch that guy more than anything sometimes.

He tried to keep his silly crush for himself, especially since you were much younger than him. The last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable, so he tried to keep it away from his thoughts. But it was so damn difficult. You were so kind, so caring, and so sweet. He wanted you all for himself, but whenever he thought about it, he always ended up in the conclusion that you didn't seem to show any interest beyond your friendship. That's why he forced himself to act as he was, just your ‘older’ best friend. Who casually just invited you to live with him.

Cool, cool. Totally normal.

As the days went by, you put your leave notice to your landlord and started packing everything. Pedro helped you with all, just as he promised, even using his own car to move the boxes back and forth between apartments. Luckily, you didn't have that much stuff since your apartment was quite small. Time seemed to pass very slowly but so fast at the same time, leaving your stomach to be a flustered mess of nervousness. Soon enough, you both were waiting into the airline row to enter the plane.

“Oh my god. I can't believe I'm doing this!”

“It's hitting you now?” Pedro answered laughing. “Actually, it's making me feel weird too. But the good kind. I like it when I have you around.”

“Aw” you said pouting. “You like it, but not enough to pay for us to sit together?”

“Are you kidding me? I'm not going to pay 50 extra dollars for a seat. I'm already going to see you all the time when we land, don't give me a hard time with it! Plus, we're only a seat apart, eres una exagerada.” (You're exaggerating.)

“Whatever. I'll remember this betrayal.”

“Ugh” he said smiling while he rolled his eyes. “C'mon, we're next.”

The six hour flight went by faster than you expected it to be, especially since you slept for most of it. The chatty old lady that sat in between you two was kind enough to switch places with Pedro halfway on the flight when she saw the way he looked at you uncomfortably sleeping against the plane window, so he put the armrest back and carefully pulled you to his side so you could sleep on him.

You looked so beautiful like this. Softly moving your hair away from your face, he pushed the stray hairs behind your ear, and you sighed contently. He couldn't stop the smile that formed on his lips.

“How long have you been dating, dear?”

Pedro turned his head to his right, confused. “What?”

“Oh, I'm sorry. Are you married perhaps? It's just that I didn't see your rings so I guessed you didn't pop the question yet. Don't tell me this trip is for that! Oh my, congratulations!”

“What? No! No, no” he said while moving his free hand on the air. He could feel his cheeks getting hot and he looked at you quickly in case you had heard the lady, but you were soundly asleep. Then he looked at her again. “It's not like that. We- Uh, we're just friends. She's my best friend. Just that.”

“‘M sorry then, dear. It's just that I heard you two talkin’ about living together, saw you actin’ like you were, and I just assumed. But let me tell ya’, honey, friends don't look at each other like that” she said, briefly patting his thigh while smiling. “My dear Stevie, may he rest in peace, was always lookin’ at me the same. I didn't realize I was in love with him until I was with somebody else, for the love of god! I just assumed he was a good friend and never saw me as nothin’ else. He even helped me with this guy just ‘cause I seemed happy. But you see, honey, he just wanted the best for me as long as I was happy, even if that meant sacrificing his own happiness. I almost lost my dearest because I thought helpin’ me to find joy in another meant that he wasn't interested. I can see how you look at her. Don't let that happen to you, honey. Believe me, not worth the time you lose while y’know that you two are just playin’ pretend.”

Pedro only looked at the woman with his lips briefly parted, his heart heavy on his chest. He didn't want that happening, but he could also not risk ruining the relationship he already had with you. He would never do that. Also, he noticed how you always avoided going to crowded spaces or where paparazzi could spot you two together. How could he not? He knew that you didn't like the attention that kind of things attracted, so he respected your decisions over where to meet. Pedro preferred staying with you watching TV or playing games rather than cameras following him everywhere anyways. In fact, he knew moving to Los Angeles was a huge step for you, since it was nearly impossible to go out and not be spotted by paparazzis. That was mainly why he was feeling so nervous about this whole thing, but he hoped that after all the time that you two had been friends for, maybe you wouldn't be too bashful about going out with him, and would let him recognise you publicly as his friend.

He spent the hour and a half that was left of the flight sleeping with his head on top of yours, only waking up when the lady beside him shook his arm gently to let him know that you were landing. He then did the same with you, and couldn't hold back a smile while he watched you rub your eyes and yawn. After getting off the plane you two went for your baggages, and after you managed to put everything in one big stroller, you started walking outside.

“I'm impressed” he said, watching you push the thing by yourself. “I thought you were going to bring your whole house over here. Is this really everything?”

“Well, no” you said as if it was obvious. “Did you think I was going to bring my scarfs, jackets and big sweaters to LA? I'm not-”

You stopped talking when you saw a man with a camera in the distance. He was taking pictures of you. You gulped and tried to laugh, but an uncomfortable chuckle came out.

“y/n? Are you alright?” asked Pedro, a little worried by your change of demeanour. He moved his eyes in the direction you were looking, and then he saw it. A couple of men with cameras, and they were getting closer. “Hey, look at me.” You linked your eyes with his, and he had a soft look on them. “You'll be alright. C'mon, let's take a taxi and get home.”

You nodded and tried to ignore the sound of clicking cameras getting closer. Taking the stroller, Pedro quickly made his way to a taxi and started packing everything up while you got inside. When the men reached the car you heard him say something before he got to the back of it with you and gave the address to the driver. You nervously took his hand with yours and he squeezed it twice, which was his silent way of asking if you were feeling okay. You squeezed it back once. Yeah, just anxious. You two came up with this method after Pedro realized that you sometimes went non-verbal when you were in situations that made you feel anxious, and he wanted to know how he could help. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he left a kiss on your hair while rubbing his thumb over yours. After a few minutes in silence, he spoke up.

“I'm thinking you won't have much enthusiasm of going out. I understand if you wanna spend the day at home. We can watch a film or something, then order food. Sounds good?”

“Yeah” you answered in a whisper. “I'm sorry.”

“Why? You didn't do anything wrong. I know you're not used to this, and I love you for coming with me to the other side of the country despite knowing the situations that you may have to face. I should be the one apologizing” he said, and kissed your forehead. “I know this will be hard at first, but I want to be able to call you my friend. To talk about you in interviews, or when people ask me about funny stories. And I'm not trying to give you an ultimatum or anything since I understand that you want your privacy, I do too, but with my kind of life, you always have to give something. I don't want you being followed, but at least I want to be able to not hide my amazing best friend to the world.”

“I understand, and I'm okay with it. I didn't just accept moving with you lightly, I knew what I was getting into. And I understand that it may have been difficult not to say anything about me, but I just- I wasn't ready. It's not easy being a celebrity's best friend” you said with a chuckle. “But I also get your point. You have been my best friend for a long time now, and I don't want to hide anymore. I know it's going to be hard, so I need you to be patient with me. More than you have already been, which I'm incredibly thankful for. But it's not going to be something I magically get used to. Don't you think I might also be dying to share you with the world? I'd love to! But I was trying to wrap my head around it. And I did, and I'm ready. So expect me posting about you and your shitty habits everywhere on my Instagram and Twitter from now on.”

He couldn't hold back a wide grin while he took you into a tight hug, and you giggled. “Thank you. Thank you so much for doing this, y/n. Ugh, you're the best. How did I ever bag this good of a friend?”

“I believe you stalked me for weeks, forced Ernesto to tell you things about my schedule, then waited for me in the café every time like a puppy and called it ‘a coincidence’, right?”

“You're saying it like I'm some creep or something! I just liked how normal you treated me, okay? Shut up.”

After arriving to the house and setting your things on your room, Pedro gave you a small tour of the house. You loved it. Especially the views from the amazing balcony that led to a beautiful view of the city. You two opened a bottle of wine while waiting for the takeout to arrive, and you braced yourself to finally face the challenge: going through socials. You were sure that the photos from this morning were all over the internet already, and when you entered Twitter, you confirmed it. The paparazzi pictures where everywhere, and everyone was speculating on how were you related to him. When the food arrived and he was about to dig into it, you spoke.

“Pedro?”

“Yeah?”

“I think it's time to post it” you said while taking a long sip of the glass.

“That fast?” he asked incredulously. You nodded and showed him your phone. “Okay then, one sec.”

He took out his phone and typed something. A few moments later, your phone chimed, and you stared at the Instagram post you were tagged in.

“You bitch! You could have picked another photo” you said while laughing.

“I know, but that's the funniest one” he said chuckling too.

—•—

It had been a bit more than a month since the photo was posted, and people were taking it a lot better than you had expected. Some were even asking you to post ‘unseen’ Pedro content. There were also people that insulted you and told you ugly things, but you decided to ignore and block them. Your social media follower count had exploded, and you had a lot of new people interacting with your normal content, but you got more or less used to it.

You had been out together a couple of times, mostly to get groceries and stuff before Pedro began his filming. He made you copies for every key in the house, and also gave you the spare one for his car in case you ever needed it. But since then, he spent a lot of hours out in the studios, so you mostly saw each other at early mornings or nights.

“Hey, I'm free today so I was thinking of going to the beach or something. I know it's not the best weather, but maybe we could take the car and then rent some bikes and go for a ride over there? What do you think?” Pedro asked you one afternoon while eating lunch.

You yawned while nodding. You had tried not to sleep in the Los Angeles daylight, but you were still kind of used to the New York timezone. Jet lag was no joke, and your shitty sleep schedule didn't help either.

“Sure. But I might be a little out of practice, so you better not laugh at me.”

“But that would be the best part!” he said laughing. “Okay then, I'll go for the car. This way I can show you around a bit more than these past weeks.”

He seemed very happy since he made you two public, and it made your heart go soft at the thought that sharing you with the world had that kind of reaction for him. Sometimes you thought that the people would find your friendship weird because of the age difference, but to your luck, it seemed like most people understood the situation a little. Of course, there were the ones that thought it was weird, or that you two were dating but didn't want to tell, but luckily it wasn't that many people.

When you got dressed Pedro drove to Santa Monica beach, then rented the bikes, and it was then when your small tour began. He showed you Venice beach, his favourite places to eat, drink and you even saw a museum from the outside. When the sun was starting to set, you rode back to the bike renting shop and sat in the sand to watch the sunset.

After it got a little dark, Pedro drove you to a local Mexican restaurant not too far to have dinner. You ordered some tacos and enchiladas, and while eating them both of you talked about how filming was going. He was so excited about it, and he wanted to invite you to set. You told him you would think about it beacuse you too had a job, but you ended up promising you would soon since you could do yours from anywhere and your schedule was more flexible. Pedro had a small desk on the living room so you used it as a makeshift little office.

Unaware for both of you, some people had spotted Pedro at the restaurant and posted it on the internet, which led the paparazzi to the location. They were waiting outside, and when you two realised it, it was too late, since there were already a small swarm of them. Your stomach began to ache with anxiety. This was the first time that you encountered that many together.

“I can ask the staff to let us out from the back” Pedro said after seeing your reaction to the small crowd.

“No, no. I don't want to inconvenience them or anything. We'll just... Go out, and then walk to the car and go back home. I'll be fine” you said, but worry was lingering in your voice.

After getting your leftovers in a small container, paying and gathering your things, you got up and headed to the exit. When Pedro got his hand on the handle of the cristal door, the flashes of the cameras had already began clicking around you. You had to cover your eyes and stop in your tracks for a second, which Pedro used to take your hand and lead you to where the car was a few meters away. Everyone was pushing around and shouting, trying to get his attention.

“Why did you hide her?”

“Did she move in with you?”

“Are you two dating?”

You reached the car, but they were too close. One of them was blocking the passenger door, so you couldn't really get into it. Pedro was already on the driver's side of the car, waiting for you to get in.

“Please move, you're in the middle” you heard Pedro say to them.

The photographers didn't listen and kept shouting while flashing their cameras. They were so close, too close, you felt like your air was slowly getting kicked out of your lungs. But they didn't back off, they just kept moving closer and pushing their way into you to get the best angles.

“Why are you even with her? You can do so much better!”

Pedro turned around to yell at the guy who said that, but he was just in front of you, and while he flinched backwards trying to get away from him thinking Pedro was maybe going to push him, his camera hit your face. It hit you right in the cheek, breaking the skin ever so slightly but enough to make you bleed. You gasped and your head moved down from the impact. You heard Pedro yell your name as he ran to your side, and you could swear the small crowd went silent for an instant before resuming the flashing of the cameras.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Pedro screamed at the guy. He took your face softly in between his hands as he was inspecting the spot which you had been hit on.

“She was in the middle, it's not my fault!”

“It's not your fault?” he said tearing his eyes from you to the man, and felt the worry for you shift into rage inside of him. “If you had even a little bit of a brain you wouldn't have to push anyone, you fucking asshole!”

You couldn't hear anything. Everything sounded like it was muffled. Panic was starting to build rapidly into you, making your limbs shake. Your breath was becoming irregular and your hands were sweating. No, no, no. Not here. Not now. You turned your back to the photographers, facing the car and putting your hands against it in an attempt to ground yourself. Tears started forming in your eyes, and you tried not to spill them. You didn't want to cry, not here, not where you could embarrass Pedro. That was the last thing you wanted. You tried to open the car door with shaky hands, and after what felt like an eternity, you got into the car. You crouched down and took your head between your hands trying to stop your head from pounding. Pedro was so fucking angry at the guy. How could he treat you like that? He had no right to do it. He was almost going to punch him but stopped in his tracks when he saw you get into the car and double over. His stomach sank at the sight. He knew what that position meant for you, and without any other word he got into the car and drove away without caring if he ran over one of those ungrateful men.

“Breathe, baby. We're out, I'm taking you home. We're almost there. Steady breaths.”

He kept talking to you in an effort to ground you, but silent tears were already streaming down your face as you hyperventilated. You hated this, you hated messing up everything. As soon as you were home, Pedro got out of the car and ran to your side. After opening the door, he carefully took you in his arms as you clinged to him, still with uneven breaths. He took you to the living room and lowered both of you to the ground.

“y/n, let's breathe together, okay? Look” he said while taking your hands into his and clutching them into his chest. He breathed in and out slowly a couple of times, and you tried to imitate him, but it was very hard for you, which only got you more frustrated and anxious. “It's alright, don't push it. Slowly. There's no rush, I'm here with you. Now, I'm going to leave your side for a second” he said softly, and you let out a small whine. “It'll be just a moment, and I'll be right back, okay? It's alright, I promise.”

You slightly nodded, still shaking and breathing harshly. Pedro quickly got up and grabbed an ice pack from the freezer, making his way back to you. He then sat in front of you and put it into your hands, holding them to your chest. Cold always helped you calm down.

“Meanwhile... Let's do 5-to-1, alright? Tell me 5 things you can see.”

After a small pause, you nodded and started looking around. “P-photos” you answered with a small shaky voice. “TV. Kitchen. F-fan. Bal- balcony. Shoes.”

“Good. Very good, baby. You're doing amazing” he said with a smile. “Now 4 things you can touch.”

You looked around and with a trembling hand you touched the rug. Then your pants. Then the sofa. And lastly the small coffee table that was in front of the sofa.

“That's good. Very good” he reassured you again. Positive responses helped you feel like you were a bit more in control. “Now three things you can hear.”

You breathed in and out shakily again, and closed your eyes for a moment. You could hear some faint music from the street, playing not too far away. “M- music.” Moving your head slowly, you heard the kitchen clock ticking. “Clock.” Pedro nodded and gave your hands a small squeeze. A breeze made the trees outside crunch. “Wind.”

“Perfect. That's very good, baby. You're doing great. Now can two things you can smell?”

You looked around again, trying to find anything that came into your ratio. You sniffed the air, and saw the abandoned leftover box in the middle of the room.

“F-food.” Pedro smiled at you and nodded. You looked at him with teary eyes, inhaled and then clutched his shirt. “You. Your- cologne.”

He couldn't stop his face softening or the loving look he gave you. He knew you were just saying it because he was the closest thing you could smell, but he couldn't help his heart from beating faster.

“Very good. Now the last one, something you can taste.”

You had calmed down a little, but after a few moments of looking around, your breath became hitched again. You couldn't find anything. Nothing. Not even a mint or some candy. Pedro saw how your thoughts started racing again, and his smile faded completely, panic briefly washing over him too.

“Okay, okay. Remember, slow breaths. Deep and slow, please.”

Your eyes didn't meet his, frantically looking for something that would complete the exercise. You had to complete it. It wasn't right. Pedro thought of every possible solution, but nothing came to mind. Until it did. But he didn't want to do it. It felt wrong, but he saw you start trembling again, he couldn't just leave you to suffer. He knew how important this cycle was to you.

“Oh, fuck this. I- I'm sorry” Pedro muttered while tenderly taking your face in his hands and bringing his lips to meet yours. Your entire body stopped shaking in shock as your eyes widened. You could taste his minty toothpaste along with your shared dinner. Without you noticing, your breath had become slower because of the air shortage. But Pedro noticed that, and he gently pulled back from the kiss. He slowly opened his eyes to meet your still widened ones. For what felt the longest time you two didn't say anything, and his thoughts were the ones that started to race now.

Fuck. I fucked up everything. Why did I even do that? Shit. I ruined it. Now she's going to leave and-

You left the ice pack on the floor, and leaning into him, you snuggled into his lap and put your head on his chest, hugging his waist with your arms. He did the same and held your head with one of his hands, resting his lips on top of it. Pedro was now the one with wide eyes.

What was he supposed to do now? What the hell did this even mean?

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x you #fanfiction

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midnight-fauna · 6 months

Text

"i just wanna trust what is mine" (huskerdust)

Pairing: Angel Dust/Husk

Chapter: 1/1

Word count: 5,063

Summary: Five times Angel didn't want to be touched by anyone. And the one time he did.

A/N: Originally posted on my Ao3 under "TheExtrovertOutcast".

Trigger warnings: implied physical/sexual abuse, heavy swearing, canon-typical amounts of innuendos, touch-aversion, brief descriptions of panic attacks

Angel staggered into the Hazbin Hotel, slamming the front doors shut behind him. He was practically limping. Valentino had worked him to the goddamn bone, insisting he tried out new kinks that Angel didn’t even know people could have. Sick bastards.

He plopped down on one of the barstools in the lobby, groaning indignantly at the added discomfort for his ass. “Whiskers, I’m gon’ need your strongest shit,” he said, mustering up one of his flirty smiles. He sure as hell didn’t need the new “bar-therapist” to comment about his current state. “And if you could top it off with one of them cute li’l umbrellas, that’d be wonderful,” he added, drawing out the last syllable.

Husk scoffed. “The fuck does this look like?” He gestured pointedly around him. Given both Husk and the bar were fairly recent add-ons to the hotel, there wasn’t a lot other than cheap alcohol and the occasional roach.

Sighing over-dramatically, Angel got up off the stool, ignoring how his entire fucking body protested. “‘Gotta do everything myself,” he complained. He circled behind the counter and began inspecting what they had.

“You can’t just-” Husk began.

“Listen, toots, I get you’re the bartender and all that, but that don’t mean you’re the only one who can make a drink worth shit,” Angel interrupted, his multiple hands searching through the rows of bottles. Alastor clearly didn’t give a rat’s ass about stocking the hotel with half-decent booze.

Husk threw his hands up in the air. “Fine. Whatever. It’s not like I get paid to deal with you fuckers anyways,” he muttered. “‘Bar’s all yours.”

With that, Husk shuffled to move past Angel. Given the cramped space, Husk had to brush up right against him.

Angel froze.

He could do touch. Hell, touch was his entire goddamn career. Outside of work, he touched people all the time. He’d flirtily caress practically anyone who crossed his path. He’d cup their cheeks (face or ass, depending on his mood), whisper filthy shit in their ear, trace his fingers over their lips - whatever worked to give him some semblance of control over the situation.

But people touching him? He wasn’t in control. He wasn’t the one initiating. And all too soon in scenarios like that, no matter how innocent the touch, he’d be reminded of all the sick shit Valentino had him do.

It was almost funny, in a fucked up way: a pornstar that hated people touching him.

Immediately, Angel yanked himself away from Husk, practically bolting to the other side of the bar. Husk shot him a confused look.

“You’re, uh, right,” Angel coughed out, desperately trying to cram down the panic rising up in his gut. “There isn’t anything in those bottles worth putting in my body. And that’s saying a lot, comin’ from a guy like me.”

The joke didn’t land as smoothly as he hoped it would. Fuckin’ Husk and his judgemental cat eyes. He felt like the man was staring right into his chained soul, seeing every last vulnerable part of him.

“Tell Alastor to get better stuff,” Angel added in a futile attempt to sound casual. Offering another bullshit grin, he hurried away from the bar, feeling Husk’s eyes on him the entire time.

ii.

It wasn’t often that Angel met someone he couldn’t seduce or at least get some kind of sexual reaction from. Obviously, there were exceptions - lesbians, asexuals, and, occasionally, a straight man with no taste. But as far as people who were attracted to men? Angel never had a problem riling them up.

That was why Husk confused him so goddamn much.

Angel knew the bastard liked dick to some extent; Husk had mentioned a previous gay fling he’d had when he was still alive. And yet, Angel couldn’t get so much as a blush. A stutter. Fuckin’ anything. It bruised his ego more than he’d like to admit.

“Man, stop staring at me. You’re creeping me the fuck out.”

Husk’s voice snapped Angel back to reality. The two were on couches across from each other in the hotel lobby. The book Husk had been reading was bookmarked and his full attention was on Angel.

Showtime.

“‘Can’t blame a guy for starin’ at what he likes,” Angel purred. Everyone liked flattery, especially in Hell where a solid ninety-nine percent of the population was egotistical shitbags. “Those reading glasses you got on are enough to make anyone fuckin’ drool, toots.”

Unfortunately, that made Husk promptly take them off, setting the glasses down on the wooden coffee table. “Cut the shit, Angel. You know that stuff doesn’t work on me.”

“Oh, come on,” Angel whined. He got up off the couch, sauntering over to Husk. He made a show of stretching out his limbs, letting his crop top ride up even higher. Shit like this would make most people hot in all the right places, but Husk didn’t even look fazed.

He was practically showing off his entire lower torso by the time he swooped down to Husk’s couch, lounging as close as he could to him. “I know folks who would kill to touch me even once,” Angel crooned, “and here I am offerin’ myself up to you and you ain’t gonna do nothin’ about it?”

Husk snorted in response. “Just because you’re a pornstar doesn’t mean everyone wants to sleep with you.”

Angel wrinkled his nose at that. Of course everyone wanted to sleep with him. That was his whole fuckin’ appeal. That’s why he was Valentino’s favorite, for fuck’s sake.

Deciding to amp up his antics, Angel raised his hand up, gently caressing Husk’s cheek. Maybe he liked ‘em sweeter with less dirty talk. It wasn’t Angel’s favorite role to play, but he could pull it off.

He ran his hand down Husk’s jaw, trailing down his neck, going to his chest-

“Stop.” Husk’s arm shot up, grabbing Angel’s wrist a little too tightly and yanking it away from him. And suddenly, the pressure was all-too-much like Valentino’s chains, his sharp nails, the goddamn bruises-

“Okay!” Angel yelled, much louder than he’d intended to, snatching his wrist back, pulling it close to his chest. “Fuckin’ okay! I get it!”

It wasn’t Husk’s fault. Deep down, Angel knew that. He was the one who had crossed boundaries, gone too far. But fuck it, it was easier to be pissed at Husk than to take responsibility for himself.

Angel turned abruptly, speed-walking away from the lounge, away from Husk, away from the situation, away from anything that could bring those memories back. He nearly tripped on Nifty and, despite growing kind of fond of her, he ignored her.

Charlie rushed into the room. “Angel! I heard yelling-” She stopped, looking at him worriedly. “Angel, are you-”

“Just leave me the hell alone,” Angel snapped, pushing past her.

He fucking hoped she didn’t see how close he was to crying.

iii.

The day had been a shitshow.

For some goddamn reason, Charlie decided to show up at Valentino’s studio, try to convince him to chill (like that’d ever work), and then accidentally set fire to fuckin’ everything. In response, Valentino had made him do every disgusting act known to man, all without breaks. And to top the shitty night off, Husk had the gall to judge him - call him “fake”, treat Angel like a goddamn kid, and try to fuckin’ act like he was anything better than Angel.

Fuck Husk. Fuck Valentino. Fuck everyone except for the booze in his hand and the loan sharks around him paying for it.

“Hey, baby, be a doll and bring me another one,” Angel cooed to the shark beside him that looked like he had a spiked dildo for a nose. “Daddy’s out of juice.”

Angel lounged back as Dildo-Nose got up and headed towards the bar. Even with what felt like gallons of alcohol in his system, Angel was still exhausted - both physically and emotionally. He had genuinely thought things were getting better for him. The hotel had seemed more welcoming than it used to. For a while, he actually felt like he had some semblance of home. Sure, the place was filled with fuckin’ weirdos, but they’d begun to grow on him. Except for Alastor. That motherfucker still creeped Angel out.

Dildo-Nose’s raspy voice snapped him back to reality. “Here you go, darling. Just for you-” He was about to hand Angel the drink when he was suddenly snatched backward.

“Nice try, fuckhead.”

Angel physically gawked at the sight of Husk grabbing Dildo-Nose and flinging him straight into the jukebox. He barely had time to register what the fuck was going on before Husk grabbed him, throwing cards like they were ninja-stars at the remaining loan sharks.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey!” Angel protested loudly, tripping over himself repeatedly as Husk dragged him out of the nightclub, the two narrowly missing the several bullets being shot their way.

By the time they made it out onto the sidewalk, Angel had finally begun to process the situation, but he still couldn’t understand why it was happening. “Husk, what the actual fuck are you doing here?” he demanded.

It was then that his senses caught up to him and he realized Husk was physically restraining him. Despite what his films would have people think, Angel fucking hated being held still. It made him feel helpless in all the wrong ways. It made him feel trapped, weak, easy to use, easy to abuse.

“Let go of me!” Angel shouted, hating the way his voice cracked when he did. He tried to yank his upper set of arms back. He needed his fucking control back. He was panicking and it was beginning harder and harder to hide it.

Husk kept his grip firm. It was infuriating that he was stronger than Angel. “No, I’m taking you back to the hotel,” he said.

Heart racing for all the wrong reasons, Angel continued to struggle against Husk. He tried telling himself that he wasn’t at the studio, that he wasn’t with Valentino, that he knew Husk wouldn’t try shit, but- “Get off!”

Angel yanked back hard enough and finally - fucking finally - Husk let him go. “That fucker put something in your drink,” Husk hissed.

“You don’t think I can tell if someone spikes my drink? I do this all the fucking time.” Angel’s heart was threatening to break out of his ribs, pounding so loud he could barely hear Husk. He wanted to run, but he didn’t want to risk Husk grabbing him again.

Husk stared at him in disbelief. “You just let people drug you all the time?”

Angel was about two seconds away from a breakdown. “You think I ask for it?! I don’t ask for any of this shit! I didn’t ask to be this way! I didn’t ask for Charlie to save me! I didn’t ask for you to save me. I can handle myself.”

“Really? Because I just saw someone self-destructing,” Husk retorted. “It seems like - I don’t know - you might need a bartender to talk to.”

Despite all the hiding and masking and acting Angel had done for as long as he could remember, he broke down right in front of the guy who he was seeking approval from most. He admitted fucking everything - the pretending, the escapism, the self-destruction, the hatred, the fear, all of it - laying out his deepest insecurities for Husk to see.

And, to Angel’s surprise, Husk didn’t judge him. In fact, he admitted to once being an Overlord and the mistakes he made that led him up to then.

It was almost comforting, knowing that someone else got it and really understood what Angel had been through. What he was still going through.

It was kind of nice.

iv.

“Alright! Thank you everyone for coming to today’s group bonding session!” Charlie cheered happily, clapping her hands together. She, Angel, Husk, Vaggie, Nifty, and Sir Pentious were gathered in the hotel lobby. Thankfully, Alastor was nowhere to be found. “For this afternoon’s activity, we’re all going to go around in a circle and everyone will give each person in the group a compliment! A great way to build trust is to feel appreciated by those around you!”

“Compliments?” Sir Pentious asked with a head tilt, drawing out the last consonant in a hiss. “Like telling someone they would make a worthy adversary?”

Charlie sucked in a breath. “Um, kind of! Sure!” she said, her painfully optimistic personality trying its best to shine through.

“I get hundreds of compliments a day about my looks, so I expect some original shit from you all,” Angel said with a grin. He was lounging on one of the lobby couches, Husk beside him. Since their fight and eventual make-up a month earlier, they’d begun to get along surprisingly well. They were a hell of a weird pair, but somehow, they made it work.

“Angel actually brings up a great point!” Charlie shot him a pleased smile. “We should all try to make our compliments sincere and about the person themselves, not just about their appearance! Angel, how about you go first?”

Angel nearly choked on air, covering it up with a cough. “Uh- I don’t know. Sentimentality ain’t really my thing, sweetheart,” he said, glancing around at the group. Sure, he’d say he was friendly with everyone, but he didn’t know the first thing about “sincere” compliments. “With my line of work, I tend to only praise people’s dick size.”

“Oooookay!” Charlie exhaled, still beaming from ear to ear, but her eyes revealed she did not know how to respond to that last part. “Well, er, even if they’re not… perfectly sincere compliments, how about you just give it your best shot?”

“Alright, fine, fine,” Angel said, waving his hand in the air dismissively. “Uh, here goes nothin’, I guess. Nifty,” he began, looking down at the carpet where she was sitting, grimacing at the number of dead roaches in a pile beside her, “you are… without a doubt, the most insane woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowin’ and that’s sayin’ something.”

“Angel-!” Vaggie sounded like he was about to scold him, but was abruptly cut off by the sound of Nifty’s borderline-maniacal giggling.

Nifty rushed over to Angel, offering him one of the dead roaches like a pleased housecat offering her owner a mangy mouse. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” she giggled, a familiar crazed look in her single eye. “I’ll name one of the stains on the carpet after you~”

Deciding it was safer to take that shit as a sign of goodwill, Angel nodded, picking up the roach by a leg and setting it to the side. “Wow, uh, thanks, Nifty. That’s… wonderful.”

She skittered back to her roach pile, humming softly to herself.

“Vaggie,” Angel paused, for a second, knowing he’d have to choose his words a little more carefully, “you’re scarily good at killin’ people and takin’ charge. The hotel’s, uh, lucky to have you protectin’ it.”

“That was surprisingly decent of you to say,” Vaggie said with raised eyebrows.

Angel turned away. Hell, this all felt humiliating. He wasn’t one to make people actually like him for anything other than sex. He never even signed up for this goody-two-shoes shtick. Initially, he’d only joined for the hotel so he had a free place to stay as far from Valentino as possible when he wasn’t working.

He glanced at Charlie, giving her an expression along the lines of, “Do I really have to keep going?” Unfortunately for him, she gave him a nod and a vaguely encouraging thumbs up.

Deciding to try and get it over as fast as possible, he quickly rattled out, “Charlie, you do great at running this hotel. I used to think you had a zero percent chance of redeemin’ Hell’s worst, but now I think you have a solid eight percent chance, so that’s progress. Sir Pentious, you’re fuckin’ weird as hell, but I’m beginnin’ to like you. And, screw it, if you want to go after Cherri Bomb, I ain’t gonna stop you. She bit her last ex’s head off, so to be honest, I’m more worried for you.”

Charlie was silent, clearly trying to process all the bullshittery that spewed out of Angel’s mouth. Sir Pentious, however, seemed elated. “Really? So, you think I have a chance with her? This is brilliant news! I will have my dear Egg Bois set up a courtship invitation with her!” His weird-ass snake eyes were practically shimmering with excitement.

Apparently relieved at Sir Pentious’ positive reaction, Charlie smiled again. “That seemed to go well! Perfect! Now, you just need to give Husk a compliment and we can move on to the next person!”

Right. Husk. Angel tried to swallow down his nervousness as he turned to Husk. He was cool with everyone else at the hotel. Friendship might be a strong word, but it was something like that. But with Husk? There was something deeper: a mutual understanding, shared trauma, maybe actual trust - if that was still something Angel could actually fucking feel.

“Come on. Surely, you have one nice thing to say about me,” Husk said with an easy-going smile, light sarcasm lacing his tone.

Angel scoffed, trying to keep his usual air of nonchalance. “I don’t know. Nothing’s comin’ to mind. I guess you’re a half-decent drinking buddy,” he said, teasing a little. “You, uh, get me… in ways other folks don’t. And because of that, you’re pretty damn patient with me, even when I’m a whiny asshole, which I appreciate. A lot. You’re fun to hang around. I feel comfortable around you, which, shit, I don’t think I’ve ever felt since workin’ for Valentino. You’re a real cool son of a bitch and I’m lucky to have you.”

He suddenly became very aware that the room had fallen silent. Hell, even Nifty wasn’t doing her creepy ritualistic-sounding humming. He’d been rambling. He’d let too much spill. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“That actually means a lot to me,” Husk said, a little grin on his face. He reached up and placed his hand on Angel’s shoulder. And for a blissful second, it felt fine. It felt okay. Until Angel’s goddam mind became too acutely aware of how close Husk’s fingers were to his neck, how easily he could grab him by the throat just like how Valentino did so often. Angel knew Husk would never do that. Of course, he knew that. But the fear was still there. Consuming him, fucking torturing him every second that Husk’s hand was on his shoulder.

Angel shrugged his shoulder and thankfully, it made Husk’s touch fall away. Trying to recover, Angel cleared his throat loudly. “Right. Okay. Next person.”

It took until the end of the group activity for Angel’s heart to finally calm down.

Angel had been at Hazbin Hotel for over five months and it had genuinely begun to feel like home. He couldn’t remember the last time a place felt like that, even back when he was alive.

He was helping restock Husk’s bar with better shit after the two of them had gone out and bought about three dozen bottles of actually decent booze. In all honesty, Angel couldn’t care less about the quality of their alcohol (he’d drank a lot worse, both on Earth and in Hell). Lately, he’d been looking for more and more excuses to spend time with Husk.

It wasn’t a crush, per se. Angel was a fucking pornstar, for Lucifer’s sake. He didn’t get horny-people shit like that. It was just that he enjoyed Husk’s company. That was all.

At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

Speak of the devil, Husk came around the bar, a box of bottles clanking together in his arms. “Vaggie offered to give us some of her collection that she used to hide from Charlie. I took a look at them and honestly, she has some good shit in here.”

“Yeah?” Angel smiled in spite of himself. “‘Doesn’t surprise me that she hid it. I don’t think Charlie’s still too thrilled that we got a bar in her redemption joint.”

Husk shrugged, setting the box down on the bar top. “I don’t know. Maybe she could turn it into a lesson on healthy moderation.”

Angel snorted. “Sure sounds like somethin’ she’d do.”

He began sifting through the bottles, taking a few of them out to inspect the labels. After a while, he became very aware of Husk’s eyes on him. The gaze wasn’t judgemental like it once was when they first met. It felt warmer than that. Softer than that. Angel sure as hell wasn’t used to anyone looking at him in that way.

“These’ll do,” Angel said, feigning a nonchalant demeanor. He turned to begin shelving them away, only for his high-heeled boots to catch on one of Nifty’s roach corpse piles. He nearly went careening to the ground, if not for Husk’s hands grabbing onto his waist, hauling him back up before he could smash both the bottles and possibly his skull onto the hardwood floor.

“Shit-” Angel scrambled to get back his footing, pausing for a few seconds to regain himself before the continued sensation of Husk’s hands on his waist caught up to him.

It’s just Husk. It’s just Husk, he tried to tell himself. God-fucking-damnit, he hated the way he couldn’t handle even innocent physical touch, not even from the man he trusted the fuckin’ most. What is wrong with me?

In an attempt to save himself from an oncoming panic attack, Angel yanked himself away from Husk, awkwardly smoothing down his clothes. “You’d think I’d be more careful where I step after livin’ with Nifty for as long as we have now,” he joked, willing himself to calm down.

Husk’s gaze told Angel he wasn’t buying it. “Angel, do you not like being touched? At all?” he asked, his voice gentle, careful. As if he was afraid that Angel might break down if he was too direct or harsh. His tone made Angel want to cry and he didn’t know whether it was out of shame or relief.

“What? Psssh, nah, what are you talkin’ about?” Angel set the bottles down, giving Husk what he hoped looked like an easy-going grin. “I just don’t want you to get an STD or some shit from me.”

Husk frowned. “You and I both know you can’t get an STD from something like that.”

“You never know! Hell’s a dirty place! There’s probably diseases all over the place, especially on me.” Angel tried to laugh it off, grimacing when he saw Husk’s expression remain serious. “Look, I swear it’s nothin’. You’re worryin’ too much.”

“I’ve seen you, both with me and a few of the others,” Husk continued. “It seems like you’re fine when you touch us. But the second any of us touch you, even slightly? You shut down. I can see the panic in your eyes every time.”

Angel swallowed, wrapping his two sets of arms around himself. “It’s really not a big deal.”

“It clearly is to you,” Husk said, stepping closer, while still maintaining comfortable space between the two of them (a sentiment that Angel’s heart warmed at). “I don’t know nearly anything about what that asshole moth does to you or makes you do, but I’m gonna take a bold guess and say this-” he gestured to Angel’s closed-off posture, “-is because of him. I want to know what you’re uncomfortable with because I never want to make you feel the way that motherfucker makes you feel or the way Alastor makes me feel. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Going quiet for a long moment, Angel nodded. “Yeah, I hear you.” He glanced around the lobby, making sure no one was listening in on their conversation. “Look, I really enjoy being around you. You make me feel like I can be myself and not- whatever it is that Val wants me to be, y’know? I don’t want you to get the wrong idea and think I don’t trust you or shit. ‘Cause I do. It’s just… something about being touched without warnin’. I don’t know. It makes me feel like I wanna crawl out of my skin.”

Husk nodded. Thank Lucifer, his gaze didn’t seem like he was pitying Angel or seeing him as some fucked-up mess that needed to be coddled like a damn baby. He just seemed understanding. Empathetic. And fuck, if that didn’t make Angel’s guts do a flip.

“I’ll tell Nifty to keep her roach piles away from the bar,” Husk said, mercifully changing the subject as though sensing how uncomfortable it made Angel to bear his soul (that wasn’t even really his anymore) to him.

“Thank you,” Angel mumbled quietly, hoping Husk knew he wasn’t talking about the roaches.

vi.

They’d done it. They’d actually fucking done it. They’d fended off the Extermination.

The hotel was in shambles, to say the least. Hell, Angel didn’t know if it could be considered a building anymore at that point. Because of the extreme damage, only a few rooms had been left (somewhat) intact. Charlie had promised they’d finish renovations tomorrow with the help of her dad, but she insisted everyone rest after the whole-ass battle they’d had.

Given the very limited selection of rooms that weren’t extreme safety hazards to sleep in (four to be exact - Vaggie had counted), Charlie had everyone pair off. Angel had a feeling it was more to give everyone a sense of companionship given they all had a new sprinkle of PTSD added into their already shitty mental states. Charlie and Vaggie had obviously gotten one of the rooms to themselves. Rosie had insisted on keeping Alastor company. Why the hell someone would want to spend a second with that creep was beyond Angel’s understanding. Nifty and the remaining Egg Bois had grouped up in one of the smaller hotel rooms. And that left the remaining room for Angel and Husk.

“Seriously? The sharing one bed shtick?” Angel scoffed, plopping down on the mattress. “‘Sounds like something straight out of one of my porn movies.”

Husk raised an eyebrow. “I can sleep on the floor if the thought makes you uncomfortable. I know, uh, being reminded of your work isn’t exactly your idea of a good time.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Angel insisted, clambering into bed, already in his pajamas and having cleaned most of the angel blood out of his hair. “It ain’t like I think you’re gonna pull shit or anything.”

With a shrug, Husk reluctantly got into bed beside him. The room was already near pitch dark thanks to the electrical system being blasted apart. The only light was from the crimson sky of Hell, serving as a forever reminder of their damnation.

Silence fell between the two of them for a long while, a comfortable few inches of space between them on the king-sized mattress. Angel was beginning to think Husk had already fallen asleep until he finally spoke.

“It’s hard to believe he’s gone, you know?” Husk said quietly and Angel immediately knew who he was referring to. An uncomfortable sensation of guilt panged in his stomach. Fuck, he hadn’t even been thinking about Sir Pentious. In all the chaos, he’d nearly forgotten about the insane, but admirable, shit he’d pulled.

“Yeah,” Angel breathed. “And just as I was beginnin’ to like him too.”

Husk exhaled out a long, tired sigh. “I wish he’d been the one to magically show up, not Alastor. Fuck, for a second there, I really thought I was free.”

“I’m sorry” was all Angel could muster. Hell, he was shit with words and even more shit at comforting people. He wished he knew all the right things to say to make Husk feel better, show him that Angel really did care about him. It was probably more than just care. Angel didn’t know what it was that he felt for Husk, but he knew damn well it was strong. Even stronger than his initial admiration and adoration for Valentino back when he’d first met him.

Without giving himself time to hesitate, he reached forward, enveloping Husk in a hug. At that point, he couldn’t give a rat’s ass about his fears. All he wanted was to comfort Husk. That was the only damn thing driving him.

“Whoa-” Husk mumbled under his breath, surprise evident in his tone. “Angel, I know you don’t like this sort of thing. You don’t have to-”

“I want to,” Angel interrupted.

Cautiously, Angel felt Husk relax and carefully wrap his arms around Angel, embracing him back. To Angel’s immediate surprise, he didn’t feel the all-too-familiar sensation of panic rising up in him. If anything, he felt the opposite. He felt safe. He felt accepted. Shit, he felt loved.

Husk was pressed right up against Angel’s whole body. His face was buried in Angel’s shoulder and Angel could feel Husk’s breath gently puffing against the top of his chest fluff. Under any other circumstances, Angel would be yanking away, shoving the person off of him. His heart was beating slower than usual, rather than faster. He didn’t know if it was some sort of freaky cat magic, but he genuinely felt calmer.

It dawned on him that it was the only time he’d felt someone pressed so completely against him and it didn’t feel sexual at all.

“I don’t think I can remember the last time I hugged someone,” Husk mumbled against his shoulder.

Angel huffed out a quiet laugh. “Shit, people wrap their arms around me all the damn time. But uh, yeah, this… feels different. ‘Feels better.”

He could’ve sworn he felt Husk smile a little and Hell, it made Angel’s stomach flutter like he was a goddamn teenager.

They laid there for a long time until Husk’s breath slowed, his weight leaning more into Angel as quiet snores escaped his parted lips. Someone falling asleep on him was definitely new to Angel. Even on set, Valentino didn’t give a shit about aftercare or, honestly, any care at all.

Despite telling himself over and over again that he’d never trust someone again after Val, Angel found himself drifting off next to Husk, feeling safe and secure in ways he’d been craving for decades.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #angel dust #huskerdust #hazbin husk #angel dust x husk #oneshot #fanfiction

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megamindsecretlair · 1 year

Text

Be My Little Darling - Chapter 4

Chapter 3 Chapter 5

Pairing: Loki x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. There's cursing. Toxic Loki. Established relationship. Fight scene.

Summary: Loki is the exclusive owner of the hottest club in New Asgard. Dubbed the Nine Realms, each of the nine rooms represent a different realm. You are his second in command, working the floors and ensuring everyone is having fun. When you get back to work, Loki is none too pleased about you leaving.

Word Count: 2,369k

Masterlist

A/N: I'm sorry if this doesn't flow. My family bugs and it disrupts my flow. I'm still satisfied, but well, what can ya do. But we are our own worst critics! Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers!

Taglist: @theeblackmedusa @braverthanthenewworld @cantstayawaycani @crochetandloki @monaeesstuff @xorpsbane @headcannonxgalore @chaos-4baby @dayjlovesromance

When you got back to work, everyone was giving you funny looks. You got the sense that you were in trouble with the principle, which was ridiculous but that’s how everyone was staring. You scowled at them and headed towards the break room, ready to start the day with a fresh cup.

Your family wasn’t there. The swell of hope you felt died angry and bitter in your chest. No matter what, you didn’t know how to stamp out the weak and pathetic part of you that wanted to see your family again.

The worst part was not knowing. Either Thanos got to them or they were snapped away. Or any other scenario you could think of that would explain their absence for so long. Surely, if they were still here and had their memories, they would have found you by now. Unless, they weren’t on Earth. You chewed on your nails as you entered the break room.

It immediately went quiet. Eyes roamed your way as you passed towards the coffee machine. The only sound in the room was the TV and the air conditioner. You ignored it and made your coffee. Your mug slammed too loud on the counter top. The machine hissed and squealed in the quiet room.

You practically felt eyes on your back as you went about your business. No one spoke. It was eerie. Nightclubs were inherently loud. Even when it was time to open and close and people had left, there was always chatter or music. So what gives?

You turned around and the few in the room suddenly found everything else much more interesting. “What the hell is going on?”

You looked down at your outfit. It wasn’t anything different than what you’ve worn before. You had checked your face in the mirror before you walked in so you knew there wasn’t anything on your face.

Honey stormed into the room and when she saw you, she rushed over to you. “You are in big, big trouble, princesa,” she said.

“For what?”

“The boss was looking for you yesterday,” she said.

You closed your eyes and silently cursed. You knew there was a possibility that he’d found out that you left. You’d done it before and he never cared or bothered to notice. You liked operating under the radar. But lately, with this thing between you, he paid more attention to you.

You both loved and hated his attention. You were used to being another cog in the machine that ran his club. He got to sit back and enjoy the fruits of everyone’s labor. It was fine, it was your job description, but the added scrutiny would make it harder for you to disappear for a few hours in search of your family.

“I’ll talk to him,” you said. After you finished your coffee of course. There was no way in hell you were going in there without it. You needed your wits about you to deal with Loki.

“What about the stage I told you about yesterday? I’m not the only one who’s noticed now,” Honey said.

“One problem at a time, Honey. I promise, we’ll look into it,” you said.

Honey scowled but she knew you. Coffee first, everything else later. “There’s no show, you can all go back to gossiping about me,” you called to the rest of the room. Some had the good sense to look embarrassed.

It was one giant high school, just like the shows you binged at home. Earth TV was fascinating and the more you watched, the less you understood the hive at work. Too many people with too much downtime in between setting up and the customers rolling in. And too many rooms to hide in and screw.

You made a face. You’d have to remember to pay the cleaning crew extra. You stood by the coffee machine and took a sip. The steaming hot liquid burned on the way down and you sighed in relief.

“Darling.” You jumped slightly. You looked around and saw Loki by the entrance. He wore his signature black suit and his hands were tucked into his pockets. He didn’t look any more pissed than usual, but rage poured out of him and poisoned the whole room.

He hadn’t shouted or yelled. It was just that damn quiet in the break room. “Loki.” You sipped your coffee and watched him.

He tilted his head at you and his eyes flickered as if he were studying a bug under a microscope. He waited. So did you. You knew he wanted you to run scrambling to him and you weren’t too sure you were ready for all that rage.

Glancing around, the employees were eager. Their faces bounced between you and Loki as if waiting for a fireworks show to start. You sighed. One day, you’d win a battle of dominance with him. Right now, was not that time.

You walked over to him with a sweet smile. Nothing to see here, lovelies, nothing to see here. Loki followed you until you were a safe distance away from the break room, closer to the kitchens and lockers.

Loki grabbed your arm and pushed you towards the nearest wall. “Where the hell have you been?” His rich, deep voice skated over your nerves and you suppressed a shiver.

“Out,” you said.

“Don’t be cute,” he said. His eyes stared daggers into yours. If looks could kill…

“I can’t help being cute, Loki,” you said.

Loki slammed the wall next to your head. Your heart pounded in your chest. Not from fear…you never feared him. Loki’s nostrils flared and he stared at you.

“Where were you? Why weren’t you running the club?”

You bit your lip. You thought…you sighed. You thought perhaps he missed you. Then you smiled. You were an idiot. Loki didn’t miss anyone. He just hated not having things in order.

Before he could remark on your smirk, you looked at him. “I had something personal to take care of,” you said.

“Like what?” He asked.

“Emphasis on personal,” you said.

Loki took a deep breath. “Darling…where did you run off to?”

“Since when do you care?” You crossed your arms. You weren’t a child and you refused to be treated like one. By anyone. Least of all Loki.

“We have an agreement, you and I,” he said.

“And that entitles you to know everything about me? Do you get to know everyone you take to bed or am I just that special?” You asked.

Loki grabbed your chin. “If I find out that you ran off with some lover, or that you’ve so much as glanced at someone else…”

“You’ll what? Kill them? Don’t make me laugh, Loki.” It was hard to be haughty when he was grabbing your chin, but you managed it.

“You’re mine, Darling,” Loki said. His voice was low, deep, and he practically purred it. There was no way to fight off your shiver. “Mine to please, mine to scold. However I see fit.”

“You’re going to stand there and say you haven’t touched anyone else or looked at anyone else since our agreement?”

“No.” That one word made your jaw shut with an audible click. He was serious. As serious as you had ever known him to be.

Loki read the expression on your face. He moved his hand from your chin to caress your cheek. His fingers were cold but soothing to the touch.

“Do you think so little of me, my Darling?”

You stared into his clear blue eyes, like the Asgardian sky at first light. He leaned in close as if he were going to kiss you. You leaned in as well. But Loki held your gaze. He wanted an answer to his question.

You were spared from answering by one of the security guards calling for your attention. “Handle it,” Loki said, not moving his eyes from you.

You couldn’t place the emotion inside of his eyes. Loki only had two that he was willing to share. He was either amused or angry. He didn’t get angry often. Pulling anything else out of him was like excavating a long rumored treasure. Rare, precious, fleeting.

The security guard was insistent. A crashing sound tore your eyes away from each other. A burly man came barrelling down the wide hallway. You squinted in the dim light and finally placed him. It was the large idiot from a few nights ago.

He stumbled forward with a singular focus, heading straight for you. Loki moved first, moving in front of you. You scoffed and stood next to him.

“I can handle myself,” you said.

“There’s no fighting in my club,” he reminded you.

“Tell that to him,” you said. You eyed the man up and down, taking in his appearance. He didn’t look like he had bathed at all since you kicked him out last time. His clothes were sloppy, unkempt. There were stains on his plaid shirt and dirt on his once-bright jeans. Two of his cronies flanked them. Something was wrong with them, something you couldn’t put your finger on.

You conjured two defense batons. Adrenaline surged in your veins as you prepared for the incoming fight. Loki may not want a fight, but there was one to be had.

The three customers stood in formation as they reached you. You were far deep into the club, near the back. The area around you was less decorated than the rooms and front hallways. Anything expensive here could theoretically be replaced. But why should it? You kicked these men out before. They had no right to come back.

You didn’t want to fight them in such close quarters, but if it came down to it, the safety of everyone else was more important.

“What do you want?” Loki asked.

“That one,” the big man pointed at you.

You smirked, ready to mouth off but Loki held up a finger. You were ready to give him a piece of your mind as well. He glared at you out of the corner of his eye and turned towards the men.

“Something’s not right,” he muttered.

The big man rolled his shoulders but the other two…they stood statue still. No one stood that still. They looked like dolls awaiting orders. Or robots awaiting their next command. They wore twin expressions of greed. Their faces were frozen on a grim smile. He was right, something was off about all of this.

Loki grabbed your hand and he began to move to the side. All three men watched and matched Loki’s wide stride. You turned in a circle until the men were on the other side and you and Loki had your backs towards the entrance. They moved in perfect unison. Their formation was impeccable.

“Back away, slowly,” Loki said. He kept his eyes on them as you both started moving backwards. The men followed suit and walked forward. “What the hell is this?” You asked.

“I don’t know,” Loki said.

You were nearly to the entrance, when the big man cracked his knuckles. The front area sort of looked like a hotel lobby. There were chairs and lounges for people to rest on, ledges cut into the walls with paintings or vases, and plants everywhere.

There was a front desk where the hostess stood to direct people to different rooms. The hostess was off in the corner, hunched down and keeping quiet. Another security guard stood there, protecting her.

A guard was crumpled on the floor. Likely the source of the crash. He was laid out next to a planter. Dirt was spilled across the floor and the plant was ruined. You didn’t blame the other security guard for getting scarce. They were human and ill-equipped to deal with someone the size of the meathead.

He had to be at least 6’5, balding head, and as thick as a retired football player. His friends were no less big and round. It was like they formed a brick wall of muscle. No one smart enough would go through them. You happened to make a career of doing dumb things.

“Who sent you?” Loki asked.

All three men laughed. They spread out. They didn’t hold any weapons. The meathead jerked forward and then they were all running. You ducked and moved under their wide swings. Your smaller size was better for quick jabs and kicks. You hit any open joint you could find. Elbows, knees, hands.

Nothing fazed them. For every blow you dealt, they kept coming. They didn’t feel your hits at all. And you weren’t pulling them. Loki whizzed past you taking on the big meathead. Loki had his own weapons out and was battling the man. But not battling to hurt. Wherever Loki hit, it was soft areas like the stomach, thighs, calves.

You paid attention to your own fight. He was a big boy, he could handle himself. The two men attacked you at once. You kicked the one on your right and he knelt on his good knee. The other, you grabbed his arm and swung him into the other one.

“Enough!” Loki’s power flowed over you and it left you staggering. You looked towards him. He held the meathead’s arm and power flowed from Loki to the meathead. The guy’s eyes glowed green before he collapsed on the floor.

“Move, Darling,” Loki said.

You moved away from the other two. Loki crossed the room in loud, thunderous steps and grabbed the two men you fought. Again, power flowed from Loki to them. Their eyes glowed green and they fell onto the floor.

“What the hell…?” One of them asked. He shook his head as if coming out of a trance.

“Mind control?” You didn’t really ask anyone. Loki nodded. He glanced between the meathead and his friends.

“Someone’s riled them up and sent them in here,” Loki said.

“Why? Who would do that?” You asked.

Loki clenched his jaw so hard that you saw it rippling. He was supposed to have all of the answers. He kept telling everyone that he was a god and smart and all powerful. “I don’t know.”

And that was the scariest thought of all.

Masterlist | Chapter 3 | Chapter 5

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Loki Files #marvel smut #Loki x Black!reader #Loki x Black reader #Loki x Fem!reader #Loki x Fem reader #Loki #loki laufeyson #Loki x reader #Loki x you #Loki smut #Loki fanfic #Loki fan fic #Loki AU

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redcracklestan · 1 year

Text

Carulia ship analysis pt. 2

keeping for a moment the no chemistry topic

I forgot to talk about a scene that is one of the most important in this ship, i'm talking about the rose scene

here in this scene, we can see that Julia was crushing on Carmen, and it isn't hidden, but most people think about the fact that since Carmen gave those roses to Julia she is in love with her, but for me, it doesn't change a thing.

I'm gonna explain better.

I think the red roses are, for Carmen, a way to say "good luck" or "thank you" since it isn't the first time she gifts them to someone she cares about, remember lupe peligro?

she gifted roses to her to wish her good luck, and I think that a thank you was implied.

so since, in my belief, Carmen does not reciprocate Julia's feelings, I think that she just gifted her some roses to say, "Thank you for always helping her when i need it"

now, for this topic, I know that I missed some scenes and episodes which they are together in, but I only mentioned the important parts, or else I would have to say the same thing for every single interaction they had.

now, let's move to the second topic

they are very different

this topic can be connected very well to what I said for the previous one, but anyway.

to better understand this topic, I'm gonna have to do a little analysis on Julia and Carmen's characters.

We know about carmen that probably her favourite subjects are history and geography, she likes to stay fit and train, she is an empathetic person, a badass one also, she is an orphan (not entirely tho. But she doesn’t know that since the end), she had a thief training growing up, she never had any friends until player (her first online friend) and graham (her first irl friend), she is an ESTP (so she is a natural-born leader who thrive in fast-paced environments, enjoy working with people, and have an entrepreneurial personality (that is just a superficial description tho, i suggest searching it up to have a deeper knowledge of what I’m talking about))

And then about Julia we know that she likes history very much and also like investigation, she is very calm and professional, she for sure had at least a mother growing up (as we see in a photo that she has in her office in the Egyptian episode) and she knows her family roots for sure, she really likes to talk about history and she is an INTJ (a person with the Introverted, Intuitive, Thinking, and Judging personality traits. These thoughtful tacticians love perfecting the details of life, applying creativity and rationality to everything she does (even here, it is just a superficial description))

As you can see from those 2 short explanations of the two of them, we can see that the only thing that they actually have in common is just liking history, which carmen also share with player. You can see too that this is not enough to have a good relationship; ad example if you took any other ship in the show (which could be Cleo and Bellum, Paper star and Tigress, El topo and Le chèvre, Carmen and Ivy, Carmen and Gray and many more) have much more than that in common.

With that, we connect to the third topic

They would not complement each other well

After all the things that i said on the previous topic, we know that they are very different , speaking for their interests, their past, and their personality. And with that, you have to consider how they would want a relationship to be (always in my opinion):

Carmen, for sure, needs a passionate relationship, full of teasing, and she would need her partner to keep up with her, with the same energy

Julia, instead, needs a more sweet relationship, gentle words etc… Basically, a relationship based on sweetness, a more “calm” one

Can you see the problem here? They are not each others types. They would not complement well.

Now, the last but not least topic

They have no “ship moments”

Ok I’m gonna take as an example here, Redcrackle.

As a really good ship, Redcrackle has a lot of moments that are clearly romantic, and that can not be seen in other ways than that. They basically leave no interpretations. Like the coffee dates ones (yes i know that Gray was brainwashed, and I’m gonna talk about it in my Redcrackle ship analysis, but still) or when chief said that he (graham) was an idiot in love (with carmen) or basically just the way they would constantly look at each other.

While Carulia has only a few moments that shows that Julia liked Carmen, but not the other way round. And, i will not stop saying that, but a crush, little or big, not reciprocated, is not enough to base a relationship. Plus, this is just a personal interpretation. Anyone could interpret what Julia did and said as a friendship thing because it is not oblivious like it is for Redcrackle.

Ok, i hope that you liked this little ship analysis (and i also hope to not upset or trigger anyone with this post, too). Next, i will do a Redcrackle ship analysis. Remember, you can ship whoever you want. This is just a personal opinion.

Thank you for reading, bye!

#carmen sandeigo 2019 #carmen sandiego netflix #carmen sandiego 2019 #julia argent #ship analysis #anti ship

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wings-of-ink · 4 months

Note

Hello! I went to sleep while finishing GC so naturally I had dreams abt it and some random questions- would you ever consider adding character descriptions for a Trans MC? (I know this is more work for u so feel free to ignore jus curious).

Also on that note I wanna add that the naming scene did in fact make me cry, I know it’s not the internet to be trans coded but- it just struck a cord with me- jus the fact that I got to choose my name and my fathers were happy for me🥲😭🙏🏼a whole box of puffs+ gone in one sitting. I can’t express how much I LOVE Da and Papa, they’re my Roman Empire I love them so much. They’re just so loving and accepting 🥲I wanna hug them

Speakin of characters I’d like to hug- Will we still be able to dig deeper into Zahns backstory even if we don’t romance them? Bc…I just…I wanna drag them back home far FAR from their Sect and just love them (platonically) forever. I wont deny tho I’m just very curious about their cult and like…wtf is going on there 👀

Ok this is already too long I’ll leave it at that💞gonna go reread this masterpiece now.

(Side note your description of the honey cakes made me wanna try them so I’m currently looking for recipes 🕺gonna eat them while I reread)

Have the loveliest day!

Sincerely,

-Oswin obsessed anon

Hello my dear!

First off, that is very sweet and I am loving that you dreamed about it!

I had wondered about making something of the sort, but like you said, it adds to an already complex system. My thinking when I did the character creation as it is was that, at least in this world, whoever you are - you just are. That's kinda how I see myself because I've always been in a grey area for my own identity. So, I just am. That's why I didn't enter any sort of specified option for transitioning.

I don't know if anything like the Trans descriptors will be in the game. If I did them, I'd want them to be at least meaningful. So, I won't say no, and it's something I'll take to heart when I consider the scope of the project.

I am thrilled that the naming scene was meaningful for you. I think I know how you feel there.

If I could magic any two people from my IF to life, I would probably go with Papa and Da, lol. Sorry to the RO lovers, but the world needs these daddies!

You will definitely see more of Zahn's backstory even if you don't romance them. Each RO will have that sort of baggage and you will be able to "try before you buy" so to speak. I haven't decided how deep that will go or how those will change depending on if they are romanced or not. I'm considering designing it so that you would need to romance them to get the entire scope of their background, problems, and such and help them find some sort of closure during their route. Zahn will start opening up more before you know it though!

Not to worry about a long ask - I love reading! Lol

I actually found a honey cake recipe that I wanted to post with a future update for chapter 3! But I'll pop it in here for you in case you want it. It's a bit fancier than what would be available to the MC's family, but it would be delectable. This chef is my all time favorite as well. Love the way he talks and his silly puns. I use his methods and recipes a lot and they never fail.

youtube

I hope your day is also lovely, Anon! Thank you for dropping in! ^_^

#god cursed if #asks #twine if #if wip #twine wip #interactive novel #gc if character development #did someone say cake?

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no-where-new-hero · 10 months

Text

Having finished A Study in Drowning, hopefully to the amusement of you all, here's my final review:

My biggest props to Ava Reid are as a promoter of her own work. Those Instagram posts with elegant posters of each of the colleges at the university--which by the way we never saw, because we left the university after two chapters. The character profiles telling us about the height and star sign of each of the mains--redundant, considering the fact that both of the men are tall and Effy is TikTok girlie Tiny™ never influences either the plot or any of the descriptions. The moodboards and the Taylor Swift "cardigan" music and the choice quotes--they all painted a much more immersive world than she actually delivered. In that, I give her 10/10.

As for the novel itself? It's a trauma story more than anything else, portrayed through the plot of Possession by A.S. Byatt. I always find it hard to evaluate books like this in the whole, because on the one hand, I don't want to be one of those people saying that the trauma in question is "incorrectly" portrayed, or that the author is a "bad" survivor or something. But this reminds me of when I read My Dark Vanessa and realized that there is a difference between writing an experience of trauma and writing a novel. A novel demands arc, contrast, catharsis, and all of these things need to be earned. Often, real life doesn't provide those things, but that's why we go to fiction. Sometimes it doesn't do to write a novel that's "too" true to life (I feel like this is a Dean Priest quote but whatever).

But even beyond this, there's something sloppy about the entire execution. The characterization is patchy at best (I'm going to have a whole 'nother post drubbing down Ianto) and everyone uses the same metaphor of the sea and water and drowning ad nauseum. The prose is a bit affectedly purple. The ending was painfully predictable. It had to be a YA, as I said before, because it couldn't be a grown-up novel, but it reminded me so much of Reid's Juniper & Thorn, which trammeled over much of the same territory (a bit better, I'd say, though I think they both suffer from the same flaws).

We're meant to believe that the love story between Preston and Effy is healing and cathartic and the way Effy regains control of her body and desires, but also--they knew each other two weeks. Even though they attend the same university, they have never spoken before they decide to join up on this literary analysis crusade. This is not a long-term, friends/acquaintances to lovers situation where you assume a deep measure of trust and affection could be reasonably built on an existing relationship. It reminds me of the critique of the central romance in Juniper & Thorn, where there was a complaint that it's less a romance than a trauma bond response. It's written sweetly, but considering Effy automatically flinches away from the presence of every man, it's kind of unbelievable that she would lower her guard so immediately for this boy.

The two week span of the novel is also problematic considering the aforementioned problem that academic work takes A FUCKING LONG TIME. Even if you have a ton of primary sources, this isn't the kind of thing you can produce overnight. This isn't the kind of mystery you can solve overnight, either, especially if no one has ever thought to probe that deeply before.

Basically, this novel was trying to do too many things with far too limited a vocabulary to execute it. Lowkey, I feel like Reid would be a better short-story writer than a novelist. She can be very good in small doses, but over the expanse of an entire novel, it just gets...dull.

#blake's last braincell #blake talks shit #that should be a new tag lol #immortal poets society

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feyhunter78 · 2 years

Text

Targaryen Inc (4/?)

Description: Alyra calls the owner of Cherry's, her and Aegon watch Sarah leave, and Alyra tries to keep her cool while attending an award ceremony with Aemond.

Check out the amazing and hilarious fanart the wonderful and talented @gracielikegrapes made for this chapter here!!!!

“You’re saying Mr. Hightower is going to spend what my girls make in two months in one night, on multiple girls?” Benny, the owner of Cherry’s was flabbergasted.

“Yes, but only if you turn off your cameras and make sure no one else is recording him. Put him in a private room, take up phones, I don’t care. Just make sure there is no video or photo evidence of his actions.” She stressed, hoping the finality of her tone would get her point across.

The sound of a palm slapping against her window made her jump and she glanced up to see Aegon who had stuck a piece of paper that read ‘Cherry’s?’ on it to her window.

“Ma’am, I’ll even turn off my own phone for that kind of business. Will you express my appreciation to Hightower? I just opened this place in honor of my recently deceased dog, and his business would really help us out.” Benny said, a genuine tone of gratitude in his voice.

“I’ll pass on your sentiments, and a security officer will be joining him tonight. He’ll check the cameras and watch over Mr. Hightower.”

“That’s no problem, hell, the security guard can get a lap dance, on the house.”

Alyra pinched the bridge of her nose. “That won’t be necessary, but thank you, Mr. Benny.”

“No, thank you, ma’am.”

They said their goodbyes and she waved Aegon in.

“So? You coming to Cherry’s with me tomorrow?” Aegon said, flopping down in his usual seat.

“Again, never. But the owner had agreed to cut the cameras and wanted me to convey his sincerest gratitude for your patronage.”

Aegon smiled, “what can I say? I’m a man of the people.”

The sound of yelling made them both turn.

“Is that Sarah?” Alyra got up from her desk and swung out of her office, hanging onto the door frame with one hand.

“Who?” Aegon asked.

Alyra covered his mouth with her hand and strained her ears. While each of their individual offices might be big, the space between all of them was not.

A door slammed and Alyra scurried back into her office, pulling Aegon with her. Sarah stood by the elevators, arms crossed, her foot tapping the floor angrily.

“That’s Jace’s girlfriend.” Alyra whispered.

Aegon peeked his head out, scanning the woman. “I thought he was into blondes?”

Sarah had shoulder length dark brown hair, with dark eyes, and pale skin, that looked as if she’d never seen the sun. She was beautiful, in a severe way. Like a high fashion model, with their long legs and sharp edges.

“He is—Sarah is an exception. They’ve been on again-off again for a year or so now?”

“Waste of time if you ask me. Just breakup and find a new girl.”

Alyra elbowed him. “Some people can’t move on that quickly, some of us have feelings.”

“I have feelings, I just like to over them, or under them, either works.” He shrugged, a teasing smile on his face.

The elevator dinged and Sarah got on. Alyra waited till the doors closed to push Aegon. “Alright, get out of my office. Mara sent me the mockups and I need to give them to Aemond.”

She’d gone over the mockup a few times, adding in a few ideas, and correcting some of the numbers before she brought them to Aemond’s office.

She pushed his door open, papers in hand. “Here are the mockups, Mara and Arryk did a great job, I’m really proud of them.”

He held out one hand for the papers, his eyes focused on his computer.

“Is everything alright?” She asked.

Aemond set the papers on his desk and sighed. “I’ve been nominated for an award. Some nonsense about being young and successful in finance”

Alyra tilted her head in confusion, an award was usually a good thing. “That’s amazing, congratulations.”

He shook his head. “No, because now I need to attend the dinner, and write a speech for if I win, and mother will insist I bring a date to maintain our image.” His eyes flickered to her. “Are you busy next Saturday?”

Aemond was always punctual, something she knew, and yet it still caught her off guard. He knocked on her door at precisely six o’clock, and she was still slipping her shoes, on her necklace in one hand. She flung open the door, and hobbled over to her couch, leaning against it as she adjusted the straps on her heels.

“Are you ready for a night of pompous rich men, and their trophy wives?” She asked, once she had both shoes adjusted. She stood in front of the hall mirror trying to clasp her necklace.

Aemond came up behind her. He was always taller than her, even when she wore heels like tonight, but at least now they were almost the same height. At least now, she felt a little less flustered when he cast his crystalline eyes down at look at her. He swept her hair to one side and took the necklace from her, clasping it gently around her neck, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin, as he straightened out the delicate golden chain. “As ready as one can ever be.”

He held out his arm for her to take, leading her out of her apartment and towards the elevator. She admired him as he watched the numbers drop. His hair was pulled back like normal and fell across the shoulders of his black suit. Gods, he looks good in a suit.

Alyra herself had worn a maroon evening gown to match his tie. With a halter neckline and a slight leg slit to make walking easier.

The drive to the award dinner didn’t take very long, definitely not long enough for Alyra to realize that people were going to ask who she was, and what they were.

“How are you going to introduce me?” She asked him quietly, clinging to his arm. She was head of PR she talked to people all day long, but she still got a little nervous entering new situations.

“As my co-worker?” Aemond replied, looking down at her in confusion.

“Oh, okay, I just didn’t know if you were going to say we were friends, or if you wanted me to pretend to be your fiancée…”

Aemond chuckled lowly, “you’ve been watching far too many of those ridiculous romance films with my sister.”

“They’re good movies!” She protested, giving him an exaggerated look of disbelief as he handed their invitations to the man standing at the door.

“Table twelve, take a right, and it’ll be the fourth table.” The man said, gesturing in the direction of their table.

They both thanked him and found their seats.

“There’s a lot of people here.” Alyra commented, before looking over the paper menu laid atop her plate.

“Far too many, I was hoping this wouldn’t take too long.” Aemond drawled, glancing at his watch.

“Why, you have a date?” She teased.

Please say no. If you say yes, I'll cry,

“No, I just like to keep Vhagar on a schedule. She gets upset if we don’t go on our nightly run at least an hour before she goes to bed.”

“Understandable, Ziras always starts whining if he doesn’t get to cuddle with me for at least an hour a day.” Aemond nodded, not dismissing her statement, but not verbally responding.

Nice going, compare a regimented schedule to laying on the couch with your dog, totally the same thing Alyra. She internally smacked herself. She’d worked with Aemond for over two years now, she should be over this schoolgirl crush.

“How is he doing?” Aemond said, scanning the wine list.

“Ziras?”

He nodded.

“Oh, really well, we’ve been working on some tricks, and I’ve been brainstorming Halloween costumes for him.” She said, digging her phone out of her purse to pull up photos.

Aemond chuckled at the costume ideas, pointing out the dragon costume with the tiny rider attached to it. “I like that one, maybe I’ll get one for Vhagar.”

“I can send you the link, if you want?”

“Please do.”

They placed their orders and began chatting about work, going over the budget for the charity ball.

Their food arrived, and they ate as they conversed with the other people seated at their table until the plates were cleared away and the lights dimmed.

The urge to pull her phone back out was strong, but Aemond seemed actually interested in the categories being announced, and she didn’t want to be rude.

Aemond leaned into her, “they’re announcing my category next.” He whispered.

“Exciting.” She whispered back, giving him a bright smile and two thumbs up.

Aemond sat stone still, and Alyra held her breath until finally she heard his name being called.

He stood, a radiant smile on his face, and she stood as well throwing her arms around him and giving him a quick hug before she pulled back, realizing what she’d just done.

Aemond surprisingly just turned that smile on her and made his way up to the stage.

He made his speech, an also surprisingly heartfelt speech about his father, both of them, and how much he enjoyed working at Targaryen Inc. When he sat back down plaque in hand, she pulled out her phone.

“Smile, I’m putting this out on our socials.” She smiled as he adopted a more neutral expression, and she quickly typed up a caption and mass posted it.

Aemond let her post the photo then grabbed her hand, kissing it quickly, before saying his thank-yous to their tablemates.

Alyra froze, her hand still in his. Sure, she’d seen him kiss Helaena’s hand, his mother’s hand, and Aegon kissed her hand all the time, but this? This was different.

Aemond looked back at her, a small smile on his face. “We can leave if you’d like, I only wanted to stay and see if I’d win.”

Alyra nodded and grabbed her purse.

He walked her back to her apartment, before bidding her goodnight and heading down the hall to his own apartment. Alyra unlocked her door then closed it sliding down until she was seated on the floor and screamed into her hands, her face hot with embarrassment and excitement? Delightful nervousness? She couldn’t put names to all the emotions she was feeling.

Ziras, her ever faithful companion came bounding up to her and began to lick her hands until she dropped them and scratched behind his ears.

“Oh bubba, I’m so screwed.” She groaned, patting his side, and standing up to get ready for bed.

Tag List: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @svtansdaddyx

#hotd fanfic #helaena x jace #modern aegon #modern au #modern aemond #modern helaena #modern jacaerys #modern Lucerys #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen fanfiction #jacerys velaryon #helaena targaryen #aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #Sarah Stark #Targ Inc fic #meg's writing #Aemond x Alyra #jacelaena

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ciaossu-imagines · 1 year

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C's Nanbaka Platonic Match-Up

I wasn’t kidding when I said I was so in the mood for writing some match-up’s and you indulged me so well! I really appreciate it and hope you’ll enjoy!

In my opinion, your ideal Nanbaka best friend is MITSURU! I actually had a little bit of a debate in my mind over who to go with, as there were a few options that really made sense to me, with the other options being listed at the end of the post, but in the end, I had to go with Mitsuru. To me, it just fit almost beautifully, with only one thing you mentioned in your description going against the friendship working out perfectly. That thing, of course, being that you mentioned not being too great with loud sounds and the fact is that Mitsuru…Mitsuru equals loud. He’s called Nanba’s noise problem for a reason and there might be times when he does get a little too loud for your liking, times where you either need to take a break from him or ask him to lower the volume a little bit but other than that, I do feel the two of you go together like peanut butter and jelly.

You mention really being open to meeting new people and experiencing new things, but only if it’s done in a way that still allows you to feel safe. And Mitsuru would definitely give you that ‘safe framework’, once you get to really know him and settle into the friendship. Even at the beginning of the friendship, there is just something about Mitsuru that does put people at ease and that does make them feel comfortable and safe with him. And that is only something that grows as the friendship grows more solid and I think it really gets to a point where you trust Mitsuru pretty completely to keep you safe, comfortable, and to never put you in harm’s way. And that’s useful because Mitsuru loves new and exciting and he always wants to drag you along. Literally sometimes. I wouldn’t put it past him to get the Science Division to modify his Segueway thing to have a trailer added to the back since, with your dystonia, he worries about making you walk too much so he’ll just pick you up, toss you gently in the trailer and zoom the two of you off to new adventures. He loves introducing you to all his ‘friends’ at Nanba, getting you out experiencing new people and new things. There’s definitely no possibility of boredom with Mitsuru around, which is kind of nice for you, where you do get bored easily.

Another thing I can see the two of you doing a lot together, because you both share creative natures, is crafting. He’ll occasionally join you for diamond dots or latch-hooking, something you get him a little addicted to, and he loves teaching you to show so that you can help him make plushies and odd little things. While you wouldn’t guess it by looking at him, Mitsuru is honestly really into crafting and things like that. He also really loves taking photographs and he’s definitely going to be the one to suggest making a scrapbook together of your adventures in Nanba Prison.

Now, Mitsuru might come across as a little goofy and sometimes a little dumb, but that cheerful, crazy façade hides the fact that this man is incredibly observant. He’s quick to learn you, to be able to tell your moods and your reactions. It comes in really handy when you find yourself becoming overwhelmed or worse, when you find yourself uncomfortable and upset. Since he figures out quickly that you have a hard time dealing with situations that make you uncomfortable, that you have issues sticking up for yourself or others because you don’t want to make others more upset, he’s usually pretty able to rescue you from those situations. For one, Mitsuru is definitely someone who has no problems with opening his mouth and giving his opinion and if he thinks someone is making you uncomfortable or upset, he’ll run his mouth and end up getting the situation back to a point where you feel comfortable, or he’ll run his mouth while finding a way to just get the two of you away from the situation entirely.

Another area where you and Mitsuru really click is that Mitsuru loves talking about his obsession of the moment. He’s a man with many interests and constantly changing hobbies and he loves to share his interests and thoughts about things with you. A big video gamer, he’ll want to play them with you, to connect over storylines or characters. He’ll want to involve you in any of his hobbies du jour. But he’s not selfish – he also loves hearing about your interests and he’s going to do everything he can to give your interests an honest shot to see if they’re things he ends up enjoying too. One interest the two of you for sure share is your interest in personality tests and things of that nature. Mitsuru loves them and finds it hilarious and fun to do alongside you for every one of your friends and acquaintances and he’ll dig up some interesting, weird little quizzes that he’ll want to take for you, while you take them for him, just to see what the results are and if they fit.

Now, it might seem like Mitsuru is always saving you or doing for you in this friendship, but it’s not all just a one-way street. Honestly, your more level-headed nature helps Mitsuru out a lot. You keep him from going overboard, something he’s easily tempted to do, and you pull him back from some of his crazier antics or escapades and let him know when enough is enough. And since he sometimes forgets to really take care of himself, your helpful and caring nature towards your friends really means a lot to him as you do little, quiet things that always make his day easier and better.

RUNNERS UP: Nico, Seitarou, Kiji, and Tsukumo

#replies #c #match-up #platonic match-up #nanbaka #mitsuru hitokoe

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meditating-honey-badger · 1 year

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Fandom: 911 Lone Star | Fic: Pretty Penny | Relationships: TK Strand/Carlos Reyes, TK Strand & Original Character | Chapter: 12/? | Chapter Word Count: | Total Current Word Count: 70211 | Rating: Mature | Warnings/Tags: Past Drug Use, Unplanned Pregnancy, Fluff, Angst, Canon Compliant to the End of Season 3, more tags will be added, picking a wedding date is hard, Stressed Carlos, engaged tarlos, Family Drama, Tarlos, Childbirth Class, Discussion of Birth, possible birth complications, Mildly Graphic Description, it's a bloody nose, discussion of past sexual abuse, Relapse, Overdose, discussion of suicide, Original Character Death(s), Explicit Language, Derogatory Language, Dad!TK, Papá!Carlos

Now that TK and Carlos are engaged, TK is ready to put the past behind him and move forward with their lives. But when he runs into a childhood friend, his entire world is turned upside down.

Let me tell you, friends, after struggling to have the time to write this chapter with so much going on in my life (My sister got married, yay! Work has been incredibly busy, Boo!), my ADHD did its best to try to prevent me from editing and getting it posted today. But here it is, finally! I hope you enjoy the new POV! Not sure if it will become regular, but I really needed it to tell this the way I wanted to.

Chapter 12

Carlos fought back tears as he looked at the grim faces around his parents’ dining room Sunday morning. The only thing keeping him from falling apart was that TK was already falling apart. He looked at TK’s red-rimmed eyes, swollen from crying and lack of sleep, and knew he had to stay strong for his husband and baby.

They’d always known this was a possibility — it had been their worst fear since the day they became Kennedy’s dads. Confronting it was an entirely different thing. Just like the lack of sleep and taking Kennedy to get her shots, nothing could have prepared them for this feeling.

TK reluctantly handed Kennedy to Andrea, then joined Carlos, hugging him around the waist and burying his face in Carlos’s neck. Carlos rubbed his back and waited for someone to come up with a solution. Typically, he was fiercely independent, especially when his parents were involved, but right now he just wanted a grown up — or someone more grown up than him — to make the nightmare go away.

“We don’t have to tell anybody,” Owen said, sipping on a smoothie. He’d made an entire pitcher, but, not surprisingly, he was the only person drinking one. “It’s not like anyone subpoenaed you for the information. It’s very easy to factory reset a phone. Do it, sell the phone, and forget this ever happened.”

“That still doesn’t solve the problem of this Kenny character existing,” Andrea said.

Carlos let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s Kyle, Mamá.”

“Whoever he is, he’s trouble,” his mother answered back. She propped Kennedy on her shoulder and kissed her temple. “Isn’t that right, mi cielo?”

“Andrea,” Gabriel spoke up, “Aren’t you friends with the social worker? Couldn’t you call her up and explain the situation off the record? See what she thinks.”

“Really, Gabriel? I’m surprised you think I would put a friend in that position. Besides, that could easily backfire.”

TK turned around and leaned back against Carlos. “We have to tell social services,” he said. “It’s the right thing to do.”

“Maybe in theory, but not in this context,” Owen said. “The priority here is Kennedy’s well-being, so in that case, saying nothing is the right thing to do.”

“You’re not talking about context, dad. You’re talking about looking at it in a vacuum. Don’t everybody’s feelings matter here?”

“Not to me,” Owen said. “I’m your father, and I’m Kennedy’s Buddy. You and Carlos’s feelings matter. Her well-being matters. I don’t care about anybody else.”

“Buddy?” Gabriel said, raising his eyebrow.

“People would never believe I’m a grandfather anyway,” Owen said.

Gabriel rolled his eyes, and Carlos snorted. His father-in-law was really too much, but at least his heart was in the right place. “Well, I agree with Owen,” he said. “We don’t owe anybody anything. Our family is what’s most important.”

“You’re all saying our feelings are the most important,” TK said, pointing between himself and Carlos, “but then dismissing my feelings about it.”

“Nobody’s dismissing your feelings, TK. We’re just saying that Kennedy is our number one priority.”

“Whatever, Carlos,” TK said, shrugging out of his arms. He walked down the hallway toward the bathroom.

“He didn’t sleep at all last night,” Carlos explained.

Read on AO3

#tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #Dad!TK #Papá!Carlos #mhb fic #pretty penny

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teeto-peteto · 11 months

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Riot wants me to believe Fortune is some femme fatale but I refuse to believe it. Sarah smells like gunpowder, blood and cherries, strangely enough. She has three things on her mind and they are revenge, killing, and her mom. She hasn't had a decent sleep since she was a kid. Her best friends in her city are a stinky cowboy and a card shark. She dated a priestess who dated her mom's killer. She falls asleep at her desk. She's iconic and she is the moment. Thanks for listening to my TEDtalk.

The problem with most of Riot female designs (specially the early ones to come out) is that they couldnt decide if they wanted to make women as bombshells, femme fatales and jazz babies so they kinda threw the three concepts in the mixer and poured the result into the champions with the hope it works. Its why Ahri was (before the voice update and some other content like Ruined King) a flavourless mix between a femme fatale and a jazz baby. Riot just kept trying to push these stereotypes (wich was the mysoginistic way men tried to portray 'strong female characters!' in cinema and novel) but without adding a flavour.

Miss Fortune in LoL is the mix of a Femme Fatale (ooohhh she's a captain thats spooky shiver me timbers) and a bombshell (instead of blonde she's a stunning redhead, she wears revealing and tight clothes, woah, great, last time i checked LOL wiki i readed her description and started with 'Sarah Fortune is a stunningly beautiful redhead' and i gagged) but has literally no flavour aside from exploiting the concepts mentioned with too many sexual innuendos.

So, YES. Screaming YES at this ask. So right. Im so sad our concept of Sarah Fortune literally doesnt exist, only on Ruined King. LOL refuses to say any of this. HUMANIZE her goddamit, give her depth of character im literally raging cause she deserves better yet here we are bestie. The cherry part got me, i think she keeps a lip balm cause her mom liked cherries and the wind and the sea salt kept their lips dry so when she was a kid she remembers her mom helping her put some lip balm cherry flavoured so she will always keep one in her pocket because it remind her of mom. Heck she will even do it to other people if she sees them with terrible lips. Convince me that she just doesnt look at Rafen and goes 'You look filthy, come here' and puts some lip balm on him. Nothing romantic, nothing sexual, just two friends, coworkers, boss and employer, putting lip balm on cause wind is rough.

She's so deep in her trauma that the the Ruined King ending literally happened and she wasnt there. She didnt say goodbye. Not even to Braum. BRAUM. She was so goddamn pissed over Gangplank escaping that she couldnt hold her shit together. Not even for 5 minutes. She said okay bye also im breaking up with you see ya later sweetie hope it worked and went to seek that bastard ass. Not to mention the whole 'woah this looks like a divorce' arc with Illaoi the entire lenght of Ruined King cause i could never shut up. THE FACT THAT ILLAOI DATED GANGPLANK fucking imagine if Riot said 'Oh see we can do something with this, add a quote referencing something between those lines'. Id scream. But they refuse.

woah that was intense, anyway-

#im dooooonnnneeee hahhahaahahahahahahahahaha #its not funny anymore im peeling the skin off my face #lol miss fortune is a fever dream #she cant hurt me #the lol miss fortune: 'sure you can handle me summoner?'#she's a saw torture

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walkonpooh · 1 year

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Hive - Tim Curran Review

An Antarctic expedition led by Paleobiologist Dr. Robert Gates has uncovered frozen, but partially thawed mummies of an ancient race of beings that very well may upend every aspect of what we know about science and religion, including who or what may have made humankind. Dr. Gates brings the frozen bodies back with him to Kharkhov Station, a mistake which may just cost the world.

Hive by Tim Curran is a direct sequel to At the Mountains of Madness by H.P. Lovecraft, mixed with heavy aspects of John Carpenter's The Thing. It takes one hundred percent in Antarctica and primarily in three locations, Kharkhov Station, Medusa Drift (Deep Field Camp) and the subterranean caves and city of the Elder Things, who are the primary antagonists of the book and the Old Ones.

I think Curran does a great job setting the place up, giving a great isolated atmosphere to the story, though at no time did I love this crew say as much as the crew of Outpost 31 in The Thing. Even the main protagonist Jimmy Hayes is just sort of there for me (though I did like that he was from Kansas). All of the characters in Hive are pretty stereotypical blue collar workers, with a pencil pusher basically with LaHune, who is "running" the expedition and is the main human antagonist, consistently getting in the way of the scientists and workers.

I loved Curran's descriptions of the Elder Things as gelatinous winged creatures, thought that was really awesome. I absolutely loved the part with the video feed of drilling down into Lake Vordog and what is discovered in the ice, that was probably my favorite section of the book.

I have a couple critiques that kept me back from *loving* this book, as someone else said "Their tiny minds could not hope to contain or understand what it was they were seeing" (p54) but yet there are pages upon pages of descriptions of the beings. So I think that Curran sort of fails to properly convey the insanity inducing/mind breaking aspect of the Elder Things/Old Ones/Shoggoths that Lovecraft is able to convey and also I think an aspect that is dropped, never really approached, is the paranoia that is present in John W. Campbell's Who Goes There? and its adaptations. These beings are taking over people from Kharkhov Station, but why? They seem to do better when they stay in their own form. I feel like Curran never really justified this beyond being a cool horror image (and it is a cool image, discarded human skin like a spider shedding it's skin).

My biggest problem with the book is the two flashback sections of previous expeditions. I feel like there had to of been a better way to incorporate them into the narrative if Curran felt they were necessary. As they are, they grind the main narrative to a halt and I don't feel that there's anything in them that couldn't have had a way to be conveyed in the main story. As a world building exercise, they're fine I guess, though sort of plodding, possibly could have worked better as separately published short stories. I did find out in the originally published version of Hive these weren't present and I don't know if that was a publisher edit or an author edit, but I think it was a correct edit. If they were absolutely necessary, maybe they could have been published as a side-novella?

I hate my critiques were longer than my positives, because I really did enjoy this book. I will definitely read the sequel, Hive 2 and I added another book from Curran to my Halloween Reading List for 2023 as I think Curran is a really talented writer.

4/5

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findroleplay · 1 year

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I send lots of asks but I can't find RPs for my OC. Do you have any tips?

Let me say that I don't really do Original Characters so I never had to find workarounds for this problem. However, I see some trends in the asks I get and I can try to point out some strategies that MAY work, especially if the problem is getting people to like your ads and not ghosting/dropping threads, which is a different problem.

All the things I say are suggestions to make your ads more appealing, I DO NOT mean that you're wrong if you do/don't do any of the following. Just to be clear. There's no right or wrong ads, but there are ads that appeal to a wider audience.

Offer to double up! This goes especially for OCxCC in fandom. While I think fandomless plots can work very well without doubling up, especially when the plots are built around the two OCs, I seem to see a trend to regard an OCxCC to be more about the OC than the CC. Besides, many people are eager to write their OCs, so they may be more willing to write with you if you let them.

This is a corollary to the above. Try to work around having only strictly submissive/bottom characters. Objectively, there's a single post offering a dominant character for every ten that don't mention anything for every twenty that offer submissive muses (not actual statistics). The market is saturated for bottom muses, so to speak. I understand that it isn't something that you may want to do because of course you have a preference for how you've written your OC, but even if you don't want to change your OC to be a top or a switch, try making another OC and offer to double up. The same goes for the ratio of female:male muses in mxf, where males are greatly outnumbered by women.

Write a verse for a popular fandom. I understand the love for obscure fandoms and the frustration for not finding any matches, believe me I do, but this is also something to think about if you want to roleplay a certain OC more than you want to be loyal to the verse. In the same vein, try branching out and write fandomless threads. If you exclude some very popular fandoms like Stranger Things, Star Wars, Marvel and DC and a couple of others, fandomless ads always get more traction than fandom ads. If you just want to flex your OC muscles, give this a thought.

Change your roleplay habits to match the most mainstream trends. If you write script or one liners, try to hone your style to be literate and more descriptive. Nothing against script or one liner writers, but I can count on the fingers of one hand how many ads ask for these styles when the overwhelming majority is usually literate. The same goes for where you write. If you stick to Tumblr, or use other less known platforms, you're already at a disadvantage because the great majority of roleplayers I see everyday are Discord only.

Lastly, put effort into your asks. You've said you have problems matching with partners, so it means that something in your ad must be niche or not popular enough to have a horde of people tap on that heart. Don't weed out other potential partners with a low-effort ask. After all, it's your way to showcase what you can offer. Pay attention to spelling and punctuation. You don't have to write a small novel, but DO include enough information to catch people's eyes and remember to split it into paragraphs. Consider bolding important info. You don't have to go overboard with fonts and other decorative elements, but try to craft something nice to look at.

That's all I can think of at the top of my head. Again, I'm not calling out wrong types of ads or roleplayers, but I'm telling you what the trends in the ads I post are and what are some things that I often see in ads that don't do all that well.

#roleplay #rp

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bisexualbumblebee-writes · 2 years

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Familiar- Legolas Greenleaf x OC

Legolas Greenleaf x Alphine Barrowes

Description: Alphine learns that Legolas has a bit of a staring problem around her, and one night she is determined to get to the bottom of it.

Word Count: 2k

The trip to Mordor had been pleasant enough. So far they hadn’t run into too much trouble, it was easy to handle. The nights around the fire often cured their aching feet as they took turns swapping memories and telling stories. There was one thing that had bothered Alphine since the beginning. That Elf Prince wouldn’t stop staring at her. Everyday, without fail, the witch would catch him in the act of examining her as if she were a recently uncovered treasure that one should be wary of. It started when they first met.

Alphine had been in her house working on a healing potion when she heard a noise outside. She froze in place as she attempted to figure out what it was. It sounded like footsteps, two to be exact. Who could it possibly be? More Ill-willers? Someone coming to run her out of town? No one came to her house for positive reasons, why would they start now? Alphine set down the bottle of potion she was holding with a deep exhale. No. Not this time. No more would the people of her village come to torment her and she would be forced to endure it.

She walked outside and waited for the unknown people to approach. It didn’t take long before the footsteps grew closer and closer until two men emerged from the treeline surrounding her house. In an instant she made two snare traps appear, which successfully captured one. The other managed to dodge it, much to the witch’s dismay. That didn’t slow her down though as she threw several more spells at him, but he evaded those as well, even blocking a few with what she assumed was a walking stick, which confused her.

“ALPHINE STOP!” The man still on the ground yelled, his voice echoing in the open space dauntingly. It made her freeze in place, she knew that voice all too well.

“Gandalf?” She questioned, lowering her hands. Sure enough, the gray wizard was standing proud with his staff in his right hand. Her eyes widened and she was quick to rush over to him.

“I am so sorry Gandalf,” she said quickly, wiping her hands on her apron. “I thought you were-”

“I know very well who you thought we were, but I assure you that we are no such people,” he said, effectively cutting her off. She bowed her head in shame, missing the wizard’s playful smile.

“I see that you’ve improved your spell skills though,” he added, which made her look at him again. They shared a laugh and the girl rested her hands in her apron pockets.

“What can I do for you today, my friend?” She questioned, both sounding and looking much more relaxed now.

“Well, for one thing, you can let my friend out of that trap.” Gandalf gestured to the other man, who still hung by his foot. The witch blushed in embarrassment then nodded, releasing the unnamed man from the snare trap. He caught his balance just before he fell, then Alphine noticed Elf ears. What was Gandalf doing here with an Elf?

“Apologies, I didn’t know who was trying to visit me,” she explained as he dusted himself off. The Elf brushed it off shortly before looking at her, and their eyes instantly met. He froze in place, his eyes never straying from her. The witch thought this was peculiar, but opted not to say anything about it as she faced Gandalf once more as he spoke.

“Alphine, meet Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood.” Legolas? Has she heard that name before today? The witch shook it off, then promptly processed his title and bowed.

“Oh, no need for formalities. Right, Legolas?” The wizard glanced at the Prince, only to find him still staring at Alphine curiously. The witch looked up as Gandalf repeated the boy’s name, which is what made him snap out of his trance.

“Uh, no. Of course not,” he answered absentmindedly. Alphine furrowed her brows at him then looked at Gandalf.

“Legolas this is my old friend Alphine, she’s one of the finest witches I’ve had the pleasure of knowing.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Alphine spoke politely. For another second Legolas stared at her once more, then he returned her greeting.

“Anyways…how can I help you two? I have a feeling that you didn’t come all the way here with a Prince just to say hello.” The wizard chuckled as she began leading him and Legolas into her house. Throughout their entire visit, Legolas couldn’t stop looking at Alphine. This didn’t go unnoticed by her or Gandalf, though they remained silent for different reasons.

And since she had agreed to join the Fellowship, that hadn’t changed. He still glanced at her more often than not. Something like that would obviously catch the others’ attention, which sparked some light teasing as they continued their journey. Alphine didn’t understand why he did it or what he believed he was accomplishing with it until she finally grew tired of being watched.

One night she finally decided to confront him. Everyone lazed around the campfire while Sam and Camelia made dinner with some rabbit that Aragorn and Boromir caught. Alphine had been looking through her bag for some herbal remedies to put in the stew when she felt a familiar gaze on her. She didn’t have to look up to know it was Legolas, but she did anyway. The Prince had been watching her from across the fire as he took count of his arrows, but he had the courtesy to look away when he realized he had been caught. That was her chance, so she carefully stood and made her way over to him. Legolas pretended to be busy until he felt her sit beside him.

“Have I done something for you to not have any trust in me?” She asked quietly enough that only the two of them could hear it. He looked at her once more, this time in surprise by her question.

“No, of course not-”

“Then what is it?” Alphine questioned, tone bordering on desperation as she turned her body to face him. “What could have possibly warranted your constant and rather extended stares in my direction? And don’t try to tell me that I’m seeing things because I’m not the only one who’s noticed.” As she finished speaking she gestured for him to glance around. And that’s when everyone, who had been watching them, went back to their own menial tasks. The witch would have smiled in amusement if this would have been a different situation. After a moment of thought, Legolas finally faced her.

“You just look familiar, that is all,” he answered simply, his gaze moving back to his arrows. Alphine let out a small ‘oh.’ That was it? That’s the reason he always watched her like a hawk? The witch wasn’t quite satisfied with his answer, but she didn’t want to push him so she turned to stand.

“Have we met before? Recently, I mean?” The question admittedly caught her off guard and she whipped around to face him. He was already looking at her with curious eyes, something that she had gotten used to over the journey so far. This time was different though because now there was a spoken question behind those inquisitive eyes. For a few moments Alphine stayed silent, attempting to go over any point she might have met him in the last hundred or so years.

“I don’t believe so,” she finally responded.

“You’ve never been to Mirkwood?” He added, to which she shook her head at.

“The closest I’ve been to your Kingdom is Laketown.” The answer made him perk up, and he repeated the town’s name confusedly.

“It was about sixty years ago, more or less,” she explained, making herself comfortable on the log they both sat on. “A terrible battle took place at the gates of Erebor, which stood on the other side of the lake. It was a war between Orcs, Dwarves, Men and I believe some Elves. I don’t remember all the details. Now, just because my kin doesn’t participate in war didn’t mean we couldn’t do our part in helping those who had been affected by it. I had gone along to help with any medical needs or clean up of the aftermath. It was a brutal sight, if I’m being honest. Too many were dead or injured for my liking, but there wasn’t really anything we could do.” She said the last part with a shrug, then leaned back a bit as Legolas leaned forward with eyes inspecting her face closely. Just moments later he all but shot up.

“That’s where our paths crossed,” he exclaimed quietly, which made her furrow her brows. “‘In life they loved you dearly, and in death they will still love you.’ Do you remember that?” Alphine’s eyes widened.

Of course she remembered it, she was the one who had said it. It was towards a dying Elven soldier after the battle. Gods she hated having to be the one to tell his family, but she was the only one who had been with him. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There was somebody else with them, but he had just been taking count of the remaining soldiers. He had stopped briefly to listen to her before the King called his name. What was it? Leief? Lorest? L-

“Legolas,” she muttered as the realization hit her. The Elf had obviously heard it because he stared at her confusedly.

“Yes?” She looked at him once more with wide eyes.

“You were there with Othelil.” It wasn’t a question, more of a realization. Slowly, the Elf nodded.

“I was,” he responded before leaning closer to her. “You look much different than you did back then.” Alphine blushed at the observation and her smile faded as her gaze fell to her lap awkwardly.

“I…I was still a fairy sixty years ago,” she muttered quietly. She could vaguely hear all conversation stop when she said that, though she didn’t really care. Tears began welling up in her eyes as she fiddled with her hands, then she took a deep breath.

“On the way back from Laketown I was captured by fairy poachers. They were going to kill me, but I summoned enough magic to get away. But,” she paused to hold back a quiet sob. “But they took my wings…I lost my powers and I became a witch.” She shook her head then sighed softly. “I couldn’t go back to my colony, for I could no longer fit. Once a fairy loses their wings, they lose their ability to shift in size as well as most of their magic, which is why they go off on their own.”

Everyone stayed silent during her explanation, and once she was done they shared sad looks. It sounded like an awful thing for such pure beings to endure. The witch wiped her eyes then looked around, shooting everyone a reassuring smile.

“Please, don’t grieve for my loss. It doesn’t hurt anymore, though it still makes me sad to think about it sometimes,” she added. She moved to get up once again, but this time was stopped by Legolas’ hand over hers.

“We may not grieve for you, but that doesn’t mean we don’t sympathize with you. I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through something like that, and I’m sorry that I brought it up.” The witch smiled kindly at him and squeezed his hand gently.

“I appreciate it, and I accept your apology. Thank you.” She leaned her head on his shoulder, feeling him smile when he rested his head against hers. “I’m better now, and I’m a part of a group that I know will protect me.” Everyone smiled at that then Alphine felt Legolas squeeze her hand, which made her look at him.

“I swear my life on it,” he muttered, lifting her hand and pressing a chivalrous kiss to the back of it. Alphine blushed at that, and she went back to laying her head on his shoulder as conversations picked up comfortably once again.

#lord of the rings #lotr #lotr imagine #legolas greenleaf #legolas imagine #legolas x oc

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