#i wonder where the stats are from

[front-facing-pokemon]

[justaghostingon]

Room of Swords Chapter 198 Reactions:

Ragan looking at the bikini: this outfit is outrageous! Who would wear something like this to battle?

Also Ragan: puts it on without question

[hydrostorm]

im still new at vtm lore so im sure there's conflicting lore about this somewhere but i keep thinking about how humanity works for vampires.. if anyone knows my ideas for how alucard's dhampirism works I'm imagining something like that except with a much more subtle physiological change... I'm imagining (un)life would be lived differently between a low and high humanity vampire, like a low humanity vampire would have no urge at all to do human things like socialize or do things that are fulfilling, they choose to give in to a heartless beast, and it lowers their ability to feel things in general. but a vampire with higher humanity might crave social interaction, sensory satisfaction, yknow, they might have the urge to Live, and the beast they give into is more passionate despite the uncontrollable nature of it. I'm not exactly sure of the humanity stats beckett and crew have, but at the end of bjd he talks about how the vampires he is friends with give greater meaning to their lives and all that stuff, he says that despite their vampirism they still Live.. i think that would kind of be the hallmark of a high humanity vampire, the presence of that urge to actually live and give back and seek humanly things.. like, theyre biologically dead but what I'm imagining is that a high humanity vampire is more physically "alive" than a low humanity one, but not as a drawback, like the high humanity enhances their threshold for experiencing humanity's pleasures in an everyday way

[drunktuesdays]

everyone is fucking but no one is horny

one of my twitter friends recently said that if she could order up a fic it would be a story written by someone who has only ever read the classics, 1.5 star trek novelizations, and their mother's romance novels from 1970, written about two people are so out of their minds horny for each other it causes them to make the absolute worst choices anyone's ever made.

and i almost lost my mind laughing because i do know exactly what she means. there is a weird vibe i can sometimes sense within the first few paragraphs a fic that really bums me out. it's almost like i can tell the author is thinking way too much about what i'm thinking about their id and it's suddenly like we're all suddenly wondering how riding a bicycle works when we're mid-ride. when you start worrying too much audience interpretation or how a fic is going to do or play or ugh marketability, it genuinely adds some weird self-conscious distance to whatever you're doing. and it's the pits from the reader side because it removes so much horniness from your story even if the idea you have is genuinely good! i know this is not a niche complaint--you find it literally everywhere as every sector of the creative internet gets #content-ed and people can't escape the stats of how any given creative outlet does.

but god there's literally nothing better than sitting down and reading some freaknasty person's art where they do not give a single shit if you like it. they had something to say and my god they were gonna say it. i've accidentally acquired so many kinks by clicking on a story where someone took me on the most insane ride of my life and i thrilled about it. i don't wanna read about polite normal regular love. i don't wanna read about people using therapy-speak on each other. i wanna read about two people feeling the biggest craziest feelings of their entire life and they cannot do anything about it except bang it out. what else are we doing here? if they're not fucking down an entire house, well jed i don't even wanna read it.

[love-that-we-were-in]

lighting the fuse might result in a bang

pairing: frat!luke castellan x reader summary: Silena thinks you need to start blowing off some steam. You think you just need a fresh victory and Luke Castellan is the perfect opponent. word count: 5.3k warnings: smoking, drinking, usual college party stuff.

author's note: brought to you by my personal deep dark history with boys in hats. also i haven't gotten drunk in like 4/5 years so i don't remember what it's like so this was interesting. also i don't know anything about frats OR smoking. have the most fun <3

When Silena mentions a party you could go to, you jump at the offer, brain fuzzing at the edges where you’ve been locked in on flashcards all afternoon. It’s something you’ve started to navigate better this year, remembering to have fun after a year of non-stop focus. Silena makes it easier - a social butterfly with no qualms about dragging you out of the library when she thinks you’re pushing yourself too hard - and there’s no harm in listening to her without protest sometimes. 

“Do you even know who’s throwing this one?” You ask as she’s leading you through campus, rubbing at your arms to fight the fall chill. “I do not want a repeat of March.” 

“Have some faith in me. I’ve started vetting my sources.” 

Both of you shiver, the memory of a night spent outside the Stolls’ cramped dorm still haunting you six months later. You’re not overly familiar with this side of campus, turning away from the usual halls and towards the sorority housing, but Silena walks the path with ease, arm looped through yours.

The walk seems to have cleared your head, the music as you approach shaking off the last of the static. You’ve been here before, borrowing notes from a teammate, but it’s different like this, all pumping bass and cheers from the kitchen. Clarisse waves at you from across the room, beer in hand, and you mutter to Silena that you’re going to grab a drink. She nods, making a beeline for Drew Tanaka. You assume that’s who the invitation came from originally.

There’s a different energy to the kitchen, not quieter by any means but less noisy. Less concentrated, maybe, with twenty different conversations happening at once and nothing you have to pay attention to. Most people you don’t recognise, a group from your first year stats class huddled together near the sink, and the Stolls off to the side pointing at every new person they see. 

Mixing your drink is an easy fix, the kitchen island covered in more choices than you’ve seen in a while, and you savor the first few sips. Between class and swimming, you’ve barely drank since the semester began and the burn of vodka isn’t as numbed as you wish it was. Still, a drink is a drink so you refill it before returning to the thick of the party. 

Clarisse takes it upon herself to drag you away from the conversation you end up trapped in with Lee Fletcher, quite literally taking hold of your elbow. You mutter an apology, however disingenuous, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation as he smiles grimly. 

“I have no idea how you talk to that lot,” she says when you’re far enough away. “They’re all boring.” 

“Lee’s great. He always lends me notes from the lectures I miss.”

She laughs, pushing you into another room. “He’s trying to swindle a date out of you and you’re using him for lecture notes.” 

You shrug. There’s nothing wrong with Lee, except that Clarisse is a little right when she says most of your classmates are boring. It’s probably not intentional, and they definitely don’t realize it, but there’s this way they carry themselves around campus - half-nervous and half-haughty. It’s not a great combination and it’s why you gravitate towards the people Silena meets. 

“We were wondering when we were going to see you next,” Chris says as he throws an arm over Clarisse’s shoulder. You still don’t quite know the story there, how Chris Rodriguez managed to sweet talk your stoic teammate. One day, you’ll find out - a drunken vow you made with Silena on your dorm room floor when Clarisse mentioned a boyfriend - but you’re content to let them enjoy their romance in peace for now. “Almost thought you’d succumbed to the dark side.”

“You’re not getting rid of me yet.”

“And thank god,” he knocks his cup against yours before gesturing to the far corner of the room. “Because we need someone to kick Castellan’s ass at beer pong.” 

“Whose?”

Turns out, Luke Castellan is the newest brother to ksig. There’s not much to know about Chris’ fraternity in your eyes, just the basics of all frats, and you know from last year that there’s always bound to be a hotshot that needs someone to pump the brakes on their ego. Usually, they’re on the younger side, with more money than sense and they don’t expect anything from your approach. Luke Castellan isn’t quite that, but he’s not far from it either.

While Chris talks to the boy who was about to play, you take the opportunity to size up your opponent. It comes naturally, a part of constantly competing, and it comes in handy in moments like this, when the element of surprise is a key factor to the situation going ahead. 

Fitted jeans, branded polo and a stupid snapback cap worn backwards to show how cool he is. Nothing you haven’t seen before, really, except there’s this focused glint in his eyes with each plastic ball he throws like he has to prove his worth here. It’s a simple practice, unnecessary for a silly party game, but there’s this serious set to strong shoulders that you’re curious about.

The same way you want to know about Clarisse’s relationship, you want to know what makes Luke Castellan, whoever he is, tick. 

“Are you trying to get alcohol poisoning, Rodriguez?” 

“I’m not playing you, Luke,” Chris says and you watch closely as the other boy tilts his head slightly to the left. “I just had to go and get the current undefeated champion on campus.”

There’s this moment that happens every time you play - those awkward seconds where everyone looks completely past you to anyone else, anyone more noticeable. You count on it, occasionally, so it takes you a moment to process the way Luke’s gaze slides to you, drinks you in before he nods towards the other end of the table. 

Chris mutters a quiet “you got this,” as you brush past him, handing him your drink. You’re not delusional enough to think you can get away with mixing your drinks this early in the game. 

It takes two of Luke’s shots for you to land your first, his last hour of playing an advantage you accounted for. He’s not getting sloppy, not in the slightest, but he’s at the point where he’s a little worse for wear - a tired arm and hazy mind - and you take the chance you have at a false sense of security, taking your losses on the chin before playing the game to win. 

Within seven shots between you, you can see Luke start to get restless. How he reevaluates the table in front of him, his three empty cups to your four. Part of you really wants to knock that hat off his head, as if it’ll give you more of an insight into his mind. Instead, you wait for what you know is coming, a slight miscalculation that has the plastic ball rolling off the table to land at someone’s feet. 

Chris hands you a fresh one and you take in the way Luke swallows, jaw clenching as you line up your next shot. Whether he knows it or not, you’ve just been handed your win.

Clarisse cheers, handing you one of the cups from in front of you as everyone yells. You both chug what’s left of them, the bitter taste of cheap beer drowned out by victory, and as soon as that’s done, she throws herself back into Chris’ arms. Laughing, you turn around to find another drink, only to be met by Luke standing beside you.

“Are you about to be a sore loser?” 

He chuckles and it’s different like this. His eyes are brown, which you didn’t know five minutes ago, and his hair is dark from the little wisps of it you can see peeking out underneath his hat. You consider telling him that the hat makes him look lame, but then he’s leaning down to whisper anyway. “I expect a rematch.” 

It’s quiet and heavy and you wonder if anyone can tell that your blood feels like it’s on fire. It’s nothing, really, and it takes more effort than you want to respond. 

“Then expect to lose.”

The only saving grace to the exchange is that Luke looks a whole lot more affected by it, a blush crawling up his neck as you take the drink nearest to you and leave to find your roommate once more. 

*

Losing never used to get to you. Not like this, at least, where everything sort of feels like a precipice and you’re waiting for the next loss to fall on your shoulders alone. It was meant to be an easy game, a warm-up, for when the season started in earnest and you couldn’t afford to be incohesive. There’s always a learning curve, new starters and new competition, but in no world should it have caused this. 

Silena tells you to let it go, throwing yet another outfit on her bed as she gets ready. When you saw her at lunch, Clarisse told you to just push harder during practice. Sometimes you’re not even sure how you can be friends with both of them, how they can be friends with each other either. Unfortunately, it becomes very clear when Clarisse knocks on the door that night. 

“Why aren’t you ready?” 

“I’m not going anywhere.” 

She tuts at you, digging through the pile of clothing on Silena’s bed before throwing a dress at you. “Get dressed.” 

“You can’t make me,” you protest, the black fabric scrunching in your fist. You’ve borrowed it before, for a party last year you don’t remember very well, and you don’t even want to consider why it’s the one Clarisse selected. You turn to your roommate, looking for backup, only to find her with a pair of your shoes in her hands. “Are you seriously going to make me?” 

In unison, they raise a singular eyebrow each and it’s unsettling enough that you let go of all will to fight them. Today may as well just be full of losses that you can mourn tomorrow.

It’s only when you arrive at the party that you realize you have no idea who’s throwing it. Or who’s going to be there. Distantly, you really hope it’s a stranger Silena met on her way around campus - full of people you’ve ever met and will never see again. You could find someone nice enough to blow off some steam with before going on your merry way. 

When Clarisse yells at her boyfriend, you let out a huff as both he and Luke Castellan turn around. 

Since your first meeting, you’ve learned a few more things about Luke. He’s from Connecticut. He was responsible for half of Drew’s sorority coming down with the flu during freshers week. He’s in pre-med. He’s the reason Professor Chase introduced a ban on energy drinks in his lectures (one hundred students simultaneously opening a can of Redbull each was, apparently, mildly disconcerting). Most importantly, he’s always wearing that stupid cap. 

You try to equate the things you know with the Luke standing in front of you. Some of it makes perfect sense - Professor Chase and Connecticut - and some of it unsettles you, but it’s all true. Freshers and pre-med and track meets. Focusing on the distracted way he taps on his beer bottle instead of Clarisse greeting Chris, you kind of want to find out a whole lot more. 

“Fancy a rematch?” 

It’s the first thing he’s said to you all night, twisting the cap off a fresh beer before handing it to you. Then doing the same with his own. You pretend not to notice the movement of it, the few short seconds where you can get away with staring at the shine of silver rings in low light. Taking a sip, you crinkle your nose. 

“I’m not really in the mood,” you mutter and, at the very least, the beer is cold and you chug half of it before you even notice you’ve done it. “Don’t you have someone else you can bother?” 

There’s seconds before you notice it, how his eyes shift from slightly curious to intense. They don’t change much but standing in front of him, you can tell when they go from relaxed to focused. How his back straightens and shoulders roll back just so. You should go and find something stronger to drink. Maybe even see if Lee Fletcher is nearby.

You stay put.

“It’s just a bit of friendly competition,” Luke shrugs, unknowing of how it echoes in your skull. How that’s all today was ever meant to be. Leave it to him to dig the knife in again just as the tightness in your chest was starting to ease. “But I guess you just can’t handle it.” 

“I’d kick your ass in a rematch. I’m doing you a favor.” 

It’s obviously the wrong thing to say, Luke’s eyes brightening as the words push past your lips. The beer you drank way too fast is forming words before you even know what they are.

“You can always choose something else for me to beat you in,” he says, like it’s an offer, something gracious that you should be grateful for. “I’m easy.” 

“How many beers have you had?” 

“Three, I think?” 

Silena would tell you it’s a stupid idea - you have a coaching session at 9am and you haven’t gotten drunk since the party where you met Luke - and she would be right. But you need a win tonight, something guaranteed, and there’s this itch that crawls under your skin the longer you stare at the boy in front of you. 

So you say it anyway. 

“I bet I could outdrink you.” 

“I’d like to see you try.”

He waits as you down two more beers in quick succession, nursing his own as you do. A clink of your bottles against one another, followed by the final sip you each take and it’s finally a competition. 

The night continues, you and Luke almost joined at the hip. It’s to keep track, you tell yourself, talking to a kid that might be in your organic chem class. If the kid looks at you weird for pouring two drinks, only to hand one to Luke in silence, that’s probably just the alcohol misreading things. Only once, when you’re deep in conversation with Lee does Luke pass you a beer, eyebrow raised when Lee gives him a glare. You think that might’ve been drink eight. 

By the time Chris finds you both again, you’ve thrown yourselves onto the couch on the outskirts of the room. Someone’s abandoned coat is thrown over your legs in a mediocre attempt to preserve some dignity in the dress you’re wearing and Luke’s hat has twisted to the side. You’re sure neither of you has drunk a sip in ten minutes.

“You guys doing okay?” 

“We’re drunk,” you say and you can’t tell if it’s a whisper or a shout. “I’m winning.” 

“You’re not winning,” Luke turns his head to glare and you blame the alcohol on the attention you pay to the slope of his nose. “Neither of us have finished these drinks.” 

“Are you going to?” 

He glances down at the cup in his hand, half empty. You can see it, the hesitation, before he places it on the floor by his feet, shaking his head. “Are you?” 

The nice thing to do would be to give up, call it a draw and appreciate that you managed to have fun despite the bad day that had preceded it. However, you like to win. So you grit your teeth before drinking the final three sips, tilting the empty cup towards him so he can see the proof. It takes you a second to remember you have to actually swallow in order to drink, but you do and Luke scrunches his nose. You kind of want to kiss it as a way to smooth the skin back out.

“That’s two wins to me, Castellan.” 

Chris shakes his head at you both. “I’m not calling either of you to make sure you’re alive in the morning.” 

*

It’s an almost unconscious action when you walk into Drew’s sorority house, how you wave Silena off in favor of scanning the crowd, searching for the one reason you agreed to show up in the first place. It takes a moment, pinks and blues and silvers all merging together in your eyeline until you spot him near the staircase, familiar black cap resting on his head. 

You’re already a little buzzed, the thrill of your final project this semester finally being handed in just hours ago, and it’s why you let yourself actually look at Luke for once. 

By this point, you’ve seen him in a polo and a flannel, always with jeans. Laidback. That’s what party Luke was. Tonight, though, it’s like he’s trying harder - baggy pants, like they’re resting a little too low on his hips, a white t-shirt, white trainers that you know are going to stain before the night ends and a slightly oversized leather jacket that doesn’t quite go with the hat you used to identify him. Maybe it’s something he does on purpose, ruining a good thing over comforting familiarity. Maybe you’ll ask him.

Luke looks up then, as if he has a sixth sense, and you kind of don’t know what to do with the slight wave he sends in your direction. You wouldn’t call him a friend, that’s for sure, but you nod in response before weaving through your classmates to the kitchen.

It takes two vodka cranberries for Silena to find you. And it takes four shots with people you’ve never met for Chris to ask if you’ve seen Luke anywhere. You tell him where you last saw him, maybe an hour ago, and he shakes his head like he’s already checked the entire house.

“Do you think you can let him know I’m heading out?” Chris asks, one arm looped around Clarisse’s waist, more for support than anything else. She was already unsteady when you arrived and you know by the flush in her cheeks that it’ll only take a couple more drinks for her to start throwing up. You nod at Chris, cradling your drink to your chest, and he mumbles a thanks while steering his girlfriend towards the door.

With both of them gone, it leaves you with little to do except go hunting for Luke. So that’s what you do, waving Lee off as he attempts to grab your attention from the couch. 

Focusing is a lot harder now, squinting over everyone’s heads in search of that damn hat. Nothing. You know he’s not in the kitchen, that’s definite, and you learn that he’s not in the garden either, Katie from your anatomy class staring at you bewildered as you explain your quest. 

There’s only one place left to check for Luke and you consider if it’ll be a worthwhile risk. It’s entirely possible that he’s already left, whoever he was locked in conversation with earlier with him maybe, and you’re searching an entire sorority house on the off-chance he’s still in the building. 

But you promised Chris. More than that, you refuse to let Luke Castellan beat you.

So you commit to the staircase, pushing past the line for the restroom upstairs. It’s quieter up here, not by much, but you can hear yourself think clearer. There’s three doors on your left, all closed, and you drain the remnants of your drink so it warms your blood and erases the small part of your brain still protesting. 

There’s two yells when you knock on the first door, both hurried and pitching higher as the words fade so you move on quickly. No one answers to the second door, so you crack it open enough to see inside. It’s dark and neat and completely untouched by whatever is happening below, so you let it click shut again. 

Luke is in the third room, you learn, pressing it open when there’s no response to your knock. The room itself is still orderly, but you find the boy you’ve been searching for sitting on the floor at the base of the bed, hat turned to the side and the sleeves of his jacket bunching carelessly where they’ve been pushed higher on his forearms. 

“Chris wanted me to tell you he took Clarisse home,” you blurt when it feels like you need to say something. “He couldn’t find you so…”

Luke waits. When it becomes clear that’s all you’re here for, he says, “Well, thanks for letting me know.” 

You’ve done your job. You can go back and enjoy the party downstairs, maybe make use of the empty room next door instead of remaining awkwardly in the doorway. 

You think about how Chris mentioned that Luke can recite pi to seventeen places while drunk. How you’re still beating him by two points. How there’s an ashtray on the floor beside Luke’s knee and it’s sort of considerate of him to use one when no one else would.

“Mind if I join you?” 

Being in an empty bedroom with a guy at a party isn’t unusual. You’ve had your fair share of them, rushed and quiet and mostly on a bed. Sitting on the floor with Luke is different, you find, a gravity to it than you can’t quite wrap your head around after so many drinks. It’s slow and languid and you don’t really say much of anything as your knee bumps against his thigh in an effort to get comfortable in the space.

No one told you Luke smokes. 

You tell him as much.

“It’s a bad habit,” he shakes his head, twisting a cigarette between his fingers and you both act like you’re not paying rapt attention to it. “I try to avoid making it one.” 

“I used to. Back in high school. Gave it up when I got accepted here.” 

He turns to face you then, head tilted so the visor of his slanted hat brushes his shoulder. “I would never have guessed you were a smoker.” 

It’s not said with judgment, just as an observation from the limited interactions you’ve had since the semester began. The focus in Luke’s gaze crawls up your spine and mingles with the alcohol you’ve yet to flush from your system. 

“You ever blown a smoke ring?” 

If you’re not challenging him, you don’t quite know what to make of Luke. It’s the thing you know most about him, the way his face shifts from victory into loss. The way it matches yours, stretches from his eyes to his jaw and into clenched hands. If you’re not challenging him, you can’t read him - you want to be able to read him in the low light of right now. 

“I bet I’m better at it than you,” you say after he answers. A short laugh escapes him, almost a huff, and it raises the skin on your arms when it meets the top of your ear. “Wanna see?” 

“I’ve only got one.” He waves the cigarette he’s been holding in front of your eyes. 

“We can share.” 

It’s a bad, terrible, absolutely stupid idea. 

“You’re on, Castellan.” 

As he lights the end of it, you wonder if he knows what the brief flame does for his cheekbones, for his jawline. Paints them in small, defined shadows that you might still see if you close your eyes. You almost want to mention it to him. You settle for watching his lips settle around it, the sinking of his cheeks on the inhale and the noise as he exhales. There’s an almost complete ring of smoke in the air.

Luke hands you the cigarette and you repeat his motions, a little quicker. A little smoother. The ring that leaves your lips is full, but less circular. 

Both of you pretend not to notice the other one staring.

You agree to best of three. You agree and you win by the tiniest margin and you hand Luke the little that remains as a consolation prize. He indulges in the last few drags and you watch him do it, looking nothing like the pre-med student you know he is. You think he could be dangerous like this, based on the way your stomach twists as he puts the cigarette out, how his head tilts back and the final wisps of smoke escape his mouth.

You aren’t as drunk anymore. 

You really wish you were.

It takes Luke a second to notice that you’ve moved at all, eyes still closed but he does, and the run of his gaze across your face is enough for you to seize the last of the alcohol in your bloodstream, pushing forward so you’re actually face to face with him, knees digging into the rough carpet beneath you. 

“Can I help you?” It’s low and a little ragged and this is the first time you’ve really noticed the thin, pale scar that stretches down the skin of his right cheek. It’s actually a little insane how pretty he is up close. 

“I think I want a little more than the glory of winning this time,” and half of your whisper is lost to Luke Castellan’s lips but it’s not that important anyway.

What is important is the warmth of his hand through your shirt, pressed into the skin that exposes itself as you shift even closer. It’s the slightly rough texture of his jaw underneath your palm, the way his breath hitches in tandem with yours and you both push through it anyway. It’s the unexpected catch of your finger on his cap and the way you give up on it entirely, finally snatching it off his head so it lands somewhere nearby. 

You’re not sure what you expected Luke’s hair to look like. Horrible, probably, with odd patches that lie weirdly flat and should be covered from view. It’s not this, wild dark curls that deserve to be seen. 

“You have curly hair?” You say it before you can think not to, so caught up in the discovery you’ve just made, and Luke squints at you, unsure. “I can’t believe you have curly hair.” 

He’s preparing a smart-ass comment, you know it by the way his teeth dig into his bottom lip, and that’s really just not going to work this time - not when he’s been lying for months behind a hat. So you do what any sane person would, twist your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck and trail your lips across his jaw like you’ll die if you don’t.

His hand hooks underneath your thigh and, when you bracket his waist between your legs, cool leather brushing against your knees, you think this might be the best victory you’ve experienced yet.

*

Silena knows something is up when you refuse to speak to her about the party. There’s few secrets you’ve kept from each other since meeting, and even less since Clarisse got involved. It’s pointless to try, mostly, since they all spill out of you when the lights go out and you’re left with each other's company. You almost forgot how annoying she could be when she’s pushing for information.

“Don’t think I’m going to tell you either,” you say when Clarisse joins you in the library a week after the party. “I am a fortress of secrets.” 

“I know you hooked up with Luke.” 

“Seriously?” 

She rolls her eyes, passing you the book you’d asked her for during practice last night. “Calm down. Chris told me. I’m down ten bucks now.” 

“You bet on it?”

“Of course we did, it’s our brand.” 

“I’m not telling Silena,” you whisper again, frowning at your notes. You wonder if Clarisse is aware you haven’t actually spoken to Luke since that night. “She’ll make it a big deal for nothing.” 

“I won’t tell but you should probably figure out what happens next. There’s a party at ksig tomorrow night before everyone goes home for the holidays.” You tap your pen against the textbook. Clarisse pushes a slip of paper towards you. Someone’s phone buzzes to your left. “Think about it.”

When she’s long gone, you grab the paper she left from the table. It’s wrinkled and you smooth it as best you can beneath your fingertips. Blue ink, messily scrawled, and you commit it to memory. Closing your textbook, you leave it pressed between chapters seven and eight. 

The party is loud, louder than you’re prepared for after flaking out on so many since your first one last year. Silena brushes past you once you arrive, shoving your shoulder just enough that it twinges and you frown. You didn’t speak a word on the way here and the silent treatment is starting to drive a little crazy. 

It feels silly now, in a place so crowded, and you breathe deeply. Someone points you in the direction of the kitchen after multiple attempts at asking and you miss the light chaos of throwing up outside the Stolls’ dorm with your best friend. 

You grab a beer, using the table edge to pop the cap off, and it helps to ease the tightness in your chest at how unfamiliar this all is. You’re not sure you could even find the restroom, let alone a singular person.

Pushing back into the bulk of the party, you vow to leave if you don’t find him before you finish your beer. There’s a project you have to start looking into for next semester that could be a good use of time tonight. 

If anyone tried to convince you that most of campus was here, you’d be willing to believe them. A drink raised in Lee’s direction, a nod to Ethan from last years’ stats class, a half-hearted smile at Rachel, who raises an eyebrow at you like she knows something no one else does. 

And maybe she does, because you turn away from her to find Luke just feet away, gesturing animatedly to the guy next to him. There’s a beer in his hand and a hat on his head and his phone number so deeply etched in your mind since last night that you hardly think about it until you’re standing next to him again, drink placed on a table somewhere along the way.

“Hi,” he smiles and his scar shifts with it. He turns to the guy from before. “We’ll catch up later, man.”

“Have I ever told you that I hate that fucking hat?” 

“I sort of got that when you threw it across the room.” His lips wrap around the rim of his bottle and you think you can be normal about it, go back to the way things were, until he smirks just slightly and you know you can’t. 

“You’re such a sore loser, Castellan,” you mutter as you push yourself up to snatch it from his head. He doesn’t comment, lets your fingers brush through his curls until they’re a complete mess instead of compacted. He glances down at the cap in your hand and mutters, “And what is your genius plan for my hat?”

It’s a really fucking good question. Short of getting it off his head, you didn’t know what you were going to do. It’s one thing to throw it across an empty room in the dark, another thing entirely to abandon it to a frat party. So you choose the next best thing - placing it on your own head and daring him to question it. 

“I guess that can work,” Luke says and it sounds like a promise soaked in laughter. 

Neither of you find it as funny when he has to tip the visor upwards to kiss you.

[dmbakura]

OK so I want to stress that this is NOT a slight against OP of this post or how they feel about the way the game presents certain options, but I've seen sentiments like this before and I feel like people still aren't quite grasping WHY the game doesn't allow the option to do a "slow burn romance where you can show him you truly care about him beyond sex" if you ascend him. So I wanted to take the opportunity to talk about Astarion's route and objectification, and the very intentional limitations of player choice regarding the ascension path.

Objectification is the act of degrading someone to the status of a mere object. It often involves a sexual component, but not necessarily. It's reducing someone to being a tool or toy, as if they have no feelings/opinions/autonomy of their own. In Astarion's case, his objectification is very much tied to his sexuality, but also his own views on power and control, and how that reflects on both him and his romantic partner.

I think people get too fixated on Welch's quote "it's reducing your relationship with him back to being a kink/form of gratification... it's very much admitting you failed to think of him beyond a sex object" and take this as commentary or judgment on the players choices, when it isn't actually that. It's quite literally the story that is baked into the route and Astarion's character as a whole. There are obviously reasons to ascend him that have nothing to do with how you personally feel about him as a character, ie you want stats, you think it's just more fun, or interesting, or you like the tragedy, etc but in regards to the story itself? It's actually more commentary on how Astarion views himself more than anything else. He is an intentional subversion of the seductive vampire trope. You cannot engage with his story without interacting with this aspect of his character.

Even if you had a dialogue option to try and initiate a romance with him without that first night of sex, Astarion wouldn't take it. If you had a dialogue option to "show him you cared and want to protect him" he would either scoff at it or get angry, as he does if you try and express similar sentiments about protecting him from Cazador. He doesn't want to be coddled. He doesn't trust mindless heroism or altruism. He initiates sex because he uses it as a tool for manipulation and insurance of his own safety. You can either play into that manipulation or don't (and he seems to respect you more if you don't, which says a lot about his self worth). You can't initiate a slow burn romance because Astarion is so distrustful of EVERYONE and has no ability to conceptualize genuine care at this point in the game due to his mistreatment as a vampire spawn. This is an incredibly important aspect to his character and to change the foundation of this is to rewrite his character entirely.

(There is ONE exception to this: Karlach. Karlach is the only character that can initiate more of a slowburn with Astarion and won't sleep with him the first night because she quite literally, physically can't. And Astarion doesn't immediately accept this either. He belittles Karlach, to the point of calling her frigid and basically defective, wondering if he's wasting his time, before she chews him out for being an asshole. Again, he has no idea how to approach a relationship without using sex as a transaction and it shows. He only goes along with it because he quite literally cannot do his normal routine. This is the only reason he won't start a relationship with Karlach using sex.)

So anyways, that choice at the start? The way Astarion's romance initiates on the first night? It intentionally parallels the way ascended!Astarion will offer you an ultimatum: become his spawn or leave him. At the start of the game, Astarion intentionally plays into the sexy vampire trope to get what he wants, is highly paranoid, afraid and distrustful of everyone. At the end of the game in the ascended route... he's intentionally playing into the sexy vampire trope, is highly paranoid, afraid and distrustful of everyone, only this time he has power to back him up. Nothing about his views has been fundamentally challenged if you ascend him; he's completely validated in his beliefs about power and control and entirely in the mindset that he has no value without becoming the ascendant.

It's not about whether you personally find him sexy or not. It's not about having sex at this point. It's not about you or your character. Astarion objectifies himself, fully playing the only hand he knows (as he himself puts it) because that is all he knows how to do. In the ascended path, he has been shown no other option. Your character, good intentions or not, has not given him the tools to see himself as anything else. There is no way too make himself see himself as anything else, except by not ascending him! Either you let this man degrade you as he degrades himself, or don't. That is the option provided, and anything otherwise wouldn't make sense without rewriting his character completely.

Do you value what he actually wants (freedom) or do you value what he says he wants (power, because he views it as the only way to get that freedom)? To me the game makes it obvious (ESPECIALLY with the newly added epilogue) that walking in the sun again or gaining the power of the vampire ascendant aren't the keys to Astarion's happiness. Stuff like that, while nice, doesn't magically grant him peace and it's not a substitute for character growth and self reflection. It honestly just feels like people want the personality and development of spawn Astarion but in the ascended Astarion path, which doesn't make any sense with the way the story unfolds.

Anyways, I just wanted to say that objectification can be more than just seeing someone as a sex object, and doesn't necessarily have to do with sex itself. It can tie into views about power and degradation and a lack of self respect. Furthermore, it's not the game telling you you're a bad person or some sex addled freak if you ascend him, it's asking you to engage with what Astarion's personal story can say about sexuality, cycles of abuse, trauma and recovery - for better or worse.

[halfagone]

Is it Canon or Fanon?

A little over a week ago, I received a very thought-provoking ask that wondered whether the Fenton parents could be considered good parents after everything they've done throughout the show. I did leave a response to that ask, and you can find the original answer here. But even afterwards, it had me thinking:

Why did we start depicting Jack and Maddie as Bad Parents to begin with?

I aim to answer this question through canon evidence to see where this argument might have come from. Now, something to keep in mind is that we still tend to ignore canon a lot of the time, so there may be some people who won't take this meta to mean all that much anyways. But for the purpose of fanfiction, we have to acknowledge that there needs to be an in-universe explanation to these events and sadly, the 'it's a Butch Hartman show' or 'it's an early 2000s cartoon' excuses don't really cut it.

So let's start with some basic stats. There are 49 episodes to the Danny Phantom cartoon (we will not be using the Graphic Novel, A Glitch in Time, for examples); 20 for the first season, 17 for the second, and 12 for the third. If you looked this up on Google, you might notice that these numbers don't line up with the episode list provided. This is because I counted any two-part episodes as one for convenience's sake. Season 2 has three two-parters: "Reign Storm", "The Ultimate Enemy", and "Reality Trip". Season 3 has "Phantom Planet".

Jack appears for 43 of those episodes, although he does not have any speaking lines in the episode, "Frightmare". Maddie, on the other hand, appears in 40 episodes. The three episodes that Maddie does not appear in, but Jack does, are as follows: "Memory Blank", "Flirting With Disaster", and "Double Cross My Heart".

Let's Start with Season 1:

"Mystery Meat": Jack is shown as dismissive to Danny and his friends' preferences, telling them, "True, I've never seen a ghost, but when I do, I'll be prepared. And so will you, whether you want to be or not." Later on, when Sam and Tucker are visibly shaking and Danny is panting from exhaustion, he doesn't realize something is off about this. When Jazz offers to drive Danny to school, the Fenton parents quickly assume that she's a ghost and go off to track them down... even despite her previous argument that she was mentally an adult (should I be concerned that Jazz called Danny an 'abused, unwanted wretch' to make a point to their parents?) A POINT TO MADDIE, she worried about hurting Jazz if she really wasn't a ghost but Jack quickly dismisses that, as their ghost-hunting device only hurts when gets into human hair (spoiler alert, it gets into Jazz's hair). She also insists that Danny is not a ghost, but unfortunately she ultimately doesn't try to stop Jack when he insist Jazz is a ghost. Standing aside and letting abuse play out does not mean Maddie is innocent of hurting her daughter too.

"Fanning the Flames": When Jazz and Danny are struggling to study for an upcoming test, Jack decides that they should put their kids into the 'Fenton Stockades' which is basically an iron maiden. And yes, the Fentons have an entire floor that is meant to torture people. I feel like that should probably be addressed at some point. A POINT TO MADDIE, she stood her ground and refused to let him put their children inside, and even locks him inside instead.

"Teacher of the Year": After hearing displeasing news about the state of Danny's grades in a parent-teacher conference, Maddie lectures Danny by saying, "Get this straight Danny. You're a Fenton. Fentons get As. Or in your father's case, B minuses." Before this, when Danny tried to explain himself, Jack shuts him up with, "Now that's enough of your sass talk mister." Do a lot of parents act like this? Yes. Does that make this a good, conductive way to help your child improve their grades? No, it does not. In fact, Maddie's response in particular probably reinforces the idea that Danny doesn't fit in with the rest of his family and further proves that Jazz is the favorite child. Not a great parenting moment.

"Fright Knight": In this episode, Jack tells Danny, "If I didn't consider it a sign of weakness, I'd weep with joy!" Not a very promising sign when a parent tells their child that it's wrong to show emotion. It's especially telling, however, when it's crying from joy and not even sadness. Yikes.

"13": This is the episode where Jazz 'dates' Johnny briefly, and we see Danny stalking them on their dates. I've seen people give Danny a decent amount of flack for that as well, so this would be a good time to say that the Fenton parents were there too and even encouraged him to keep stalking his sister. Danny was wrong to ignore Jazz's privacy like that, but he definitely learned it somewhere.

"Public Enemies": Here we see more of the Fenton parents' aggression towards ghosts. We get a line from Jack: "I'm gonna tear that ghost kid apart into a million different-" Notice something here? He recognizes that Phantom is a ghost 'kid' and yet still fully intends to shoot at him with the intent to hurt if not straight-up kill him. The only time Maddie disagrees with him is to insist that she does the dirty work because she has better aim than him. These are not the type of people you should let children stay with.

"Maternal Instincts": Okay, I gotta say it, this is a really cute episode. We get to see Maddie reminiscing over how close she and Danny used to be and wishing they had that bond again. Unfortunately she does get some points docked off for deciding what they should do as a bonding activity instesd of asking what Danny wanted to do and maybe learning more about his interests and who he is as a person now that he's a teenager. But there is this really sweet moment where Maddie tells Danny 'I love you' at the campsite which absolutely melted my heart and then later on when she saves Danny from the ghosts, Danny tells her she's awesome and gives her a hug. So sweet. But then she kinda ruins it by asking her son to act as a distraction and- Please do not ask your teenage children to keep skeevy old guys 'entertained' when you know he's a creep. A POINT TO JACK, while all this is going on he's defending his daughter and even shouts, "Back off, she's a minor!" That's some Dr. Doofenshmirtz energy right there, I respect it. He also talks about making Jazz an action figure, which was a really cute moment amidst the chaos.

"The Million Dollar Ghost": This episode is filled with some great Danny-Jack bonding moments and goes to show how much Danny cares about his father that he's willing to get caught to make Jack feel better about himself. We also get to see how much Jack cares about how Danny views him and he wants to be someone in Danny's eyes. Unfortunately, this is the episode where Danny gets lectured for not doing all his lab chores, such as cleaning the beakers and changing the ecto-filtrator- despite knowing that the portal could blow up if they don't change in time and knowing that Danny is bad at cleaning his own room. And we literally get a scene where Jack knocks something over and tells Danny to clean it up because he was too busy running around to do it himself. Is it important to give children chores? Yes, it teaches them responsibility. You should not be asking them to deal with hazardous, dangerous chemicals that can literally cause an explosion capable of killing people. Something to keep in mind.

Now let's look at Season 2:

"Doctor's Disorders": In this lovely (sarcasm) episode, we have Jack saying to Danny's face: "Poor Jazz. She's always been my favorite." I don't feel like this one needs much more explanation for how horrible this is. Also, this isn't really too relevant to the bad-parent-thing and more to the "they wouldn't take Danny's reveal well under other circumstances" thing, because Maddie literally says to Tucker: "Everybody knows humans can't have ghost powers." Which would technically, probably, dehumanize Danny in their eyes.

"Identity Crisis": There's one line in particular in this episode I wanted to point out, which is from Jack where he says, "Safety features? Why, safety features are for punks." ...I know this is probably supposed to be a joke, but when you think about it, it's even worse than you might think. In fanon we do tend to stress how forgetful the Fentons are when it comes to lab safety, but it's one thing to forget and it's a whole other thing to purposefully dismiss it. I could even argue that we're doing the Fentons a service by characterizing them as simply forgetful.

"The Fenton Menace": This is one of the episodes I referenced in the original ask as well, for its... plethora of concerning material. There are lines such as, "Whether it's air land or sea I won't stop until we capture a ghost and tear it apart. Molecule by molecule." A POINT TO MADDIE, she told her family she loved them by saying, "Nothing like spending quality family time with the people you love." However she immediately loses those points when she and Jack attempt to 'spin the crazy' out of Danny. The episode transcript reveals Danny's reaction to this, which is described by, "Danny screaming, his face and hair flying around. Zoom out to show him strapped to a table, which is attached to a metal arm. Zoom out to show the metal arm connected to a centrifuge-like device on the ceiling." As well as, "Danny is shaking, hair sticking up with bags under his eyes." Is this supposed to be a joke? I wouldn't know because quite frankly, I'm not laughing.

"The Fright Before Christmas": So in this episode we learn why Danny hates Christmas! Which is because he got peed on by a dog. As a baby. What kind of parent lets their baby get peed on by a dog? Again, child neglect is a criminally punishable offense, and if they had left him out, in the cold, with dog piss on him, we could have had a lot bigger problems here. They also ignore both their children for most of this episode due to their arguing, although they go back later on and tell Danny that he shouldn't be alone for Christmas and where was all this concern before?

"Secret Weapons": Ah... This is the episode where it happens. Here we get the infamous interaction. Please note how a ghost is referred to as an 'it'. Not a person, not even a kid. But an 'it' that can feel pain that will go ignored.

Jazz: "Does it hurt the ghost?" Maddie: [laughs] "Oh, Jazz! You know your father and I don't care about that. Jack: "Yeah! If we hear it scream, then we know it's working."

"Micro-Management": At the very end of this episode, Jack makes a comment to Danny, "I'm so proud. Our boy finally has the physical prowess of a 60 year old president. Here's to you son." Clearly it's meant to be a compliment, but I don't know about you guys, but I wouldn't take this as a compliment.

"Masters of All Time": This one takes a more distressing turn, because after Maddie catches Danny for snooping around, she has his strapped down to a table and fires a laser at him to interrogate him, thinking he's a ghost (though the laser doesn't hit him, just threatens him, which... isn't much better). And this is after he's already insisted that he's her son. He is still very clearly a child, and even if she doesn't believe that he's her son (for admittedly understandable reasons, people usually remember when they bear children), the fact that she strapped him to a table at all does not look favorably on her. Especially when he very clearly believed that she was his mother, and he was her son. And she still did this to him. Yes, there were time shenanigans involved, but that doesn't make this any easier on Danny just because he knows the truth.

"Reality Trip": This episode showcases that the Fenton parents can actually be decent parents. While they have a hard time believing the truth at first, they do eventually accept it. However, it is still important to remember that Danny could have never known what their reaction would be, so his fear is understandable and rooted in real concern for his life. Here are some of the best points from this transcript:

Jack: "Imagine, our own son has had ghost powers all this time and has kept them a secret from us. [confused] But we love him! [turning to Maddie] I wonder why he didn't trust us enough to tell us." Jazz: "[sarcastically] Hmm, let me guess. [mimicking Jack] "Hey, Maddie, let's destroy the ghost!" [mimicking Maddie] "No, Jack, let's dissect the ghost." [mimicking Jack again] "I know, let's catch the ghost and rip it apart molecule by molecule!" [normal voice, sarcastic again] You guys are so understanding." [Jack and Maddie drop their gazes, ashamed.]

Moving onto Season 3:

"Eye for an Eye": This is more a passing mention, but Jack seems to be a little obsessed with the GIW and huge fans of their work, and you do see it some more in "Livin' Large" later on in the season as well.

"Girls' Night Out": We see Jack trying to make an effort with Danny in this episode again. I did point out in the original ask reply that Jack was obviously trying to be a good father for Danny, which definitely deserves some points. However, it is still important to point out how generally uninterested Danny was in the bonding activity. It goes back to how Maddie ignored the chance to give Danny a choice, and how dismissive they tend to be towards him. I still want to award Jack a point for looking for advice from 'Father/Son Relationships For Stupids!' but I do so half-heartedly. Their interactions in this episode definitely reek with discomfort, but considering everything that has gone down in between now and "The Million Dollar Ghost", that does make sense.

"Torrent of Terror": This is another instance of extreme lack of safety precautions- the airbags don't deploy? In the GAV??? Somewhere out there, OSHA is crying.

"Forever Phantom": Maddie and Jack show a lot of anti-Phantom rhetoric in this episode. So this tracks how uncomfortable and/or threatened Danny might feel at home. Some examples include:

Jack: "He keeps this up he's liable to make people forget he's nothing but a putrid rancid ball of self-aware protoplasm."

Maddie: "Don't be fooled sweetie. He's up to something. Remember that time he attacked the mayor? Or stole everyone's Christmas presents? Once a filthy ghost always a filthy ghost."

"Livin' Large": Something to remember, the GIW intend to fire a missile into the Ghost Zone after gaining access to the Fentons' portal. While they didn't have the password right away, it cannot be understated that the Fentons basically gave away their house in exchange for wealth. Thankfully the missile was just a fake and not a real weapon of mass destruction, but do not mistake this to mean that- had it been real- the GIW wouldn't have gone through with it. And the Fenton parents would have been just as responsible.

And that concludes our canon research for this argument! Let's wrap things up with some stats. Of the 49 episodes in the show, we have evidence in 21 episodes. That is roughly 43% of the show, and this does not include comments that Danny has made about his parents and how they treat him. Obviously, at the end of the day, human error is possible. There is always a chance that I could have missed another piece of information, or perhaps another thoughtful addition to this list. However, 43% is no laughing matter.

Yes, the Fenton parents had their shining moments, but with all the other evidence presented that overshadows those little gems, can you confidently say that they are good parents? And most of all, if you were in Danny's shoes, would you say the same thing?

It's easy to excuse this as a cartoon. When you're writing in this world, playing with these characters, that excuse instantly evaporates.

Thank you for reading, I hope you all learned something about the Fenton parents like I did.

[riaki]

sick days ! gojo x reader ‧˚ - take a soda break…!

the rain outside your window is incessant.

it slides down the foggy glass panes in small rivulets that merge together and break apart, like the people outside on different paths of life. a sea of umbrellas moves like liquid in the streets below; a school of fish in a rainy city, under those fluorescent neons that shine like vibrant coral in the puddles of rain on the concrete.

there’s beauty even in the humid showers of tokyo, reflected in the broken lights and flickering signs; those food stalls full of warm life and fancy clothing stores that you always go in just to not buy anything, and best of all— the vending machines that dot the map.

watching raindrops race was one of your favorite hobbies as a kid. even now, you find yourself absentmindedly tracking the movements; the erratic nature of the blurry droplets as they slide down the glass makes you wonder if there’s hidden ridges on the panels that guide those watery paths.

your train of thought is rudely interrupted by another bout of coughing; that dry, itching feeling in your throat that you just can’t get rid of. drinking water to quell the cough has the same effect as telling your study buddy to stay focused for longer than five minutes. gojo is playing something on his phone again; a rhythm game, by the way he curses under his breath every time his fingers stutter and miss a beat.

you cover your mouth with your elbow, trying to expel the ghost dust that makes your breath hitch every time you try to speak, and he glances up at you, shifting in his seat. his lanky legs are cramped beneath the desktop; his frame doesn’t fit in your room. he has to duck when he enters, lest he hit his head like the first time he came over. like you, he has his head resting in his elbows. unlike you, he isn't ill with a fever so hot it burns cold and the stuffiness in your voice, and he also isn't studying.

"you sure you still wanna be reviewing? this exam doesn't really matter, y'know." gojo remarks, peering up at you from his arm pillow. "you should probably take a break, ’cus you look like shit."

he grins cheekily, pushing a pile of his papers and notes to the edge of the desk, where eraser shavings and broken bits of lead from when he couldn't solve a math problem are crammed. there's scratches and ink stains on the desk, a reminder of how you'd accidentally scribbled past the page’s edge in a sickness induced delirium. it’ll leave permanent marks; at this point you’re convinced you’re writing yourself a secret letter to the future. have you confessed to gojo yet? that’s what it’ll say. right now, it just says something unintelligible.

hopefully you’re still literate in the future, but you’re half-convinced you’re getting dumber every moment you spend caged in with this dunce of a genius.

you lean back in your chair, pulling your knee up to your chest. your pencil falls to the desk with a faint clack, soft yellow lamplight washing your faces warm as gojo scoots closer and peers over your shoulder at your progress. he has a pandora’s box of knowledge in that blue-tinted brain of his; he just refuses to apply it. it’s cocky, spoiled ego in the finest. you should hate him for it.

he snickers. "you're dumb."

"you missed forty-three notes." you countered, shooting him a glare as you point at the disappointed looking character next to a review of the stats from the song he was playing on his phone. gojo grimaces, pulling back like a sad little dog, floppy white hair covering his eyes.

"i was playing with my thumbs."

you ignore him, leaning against the wooden desk before hiding your face in your elbows again and letting out a long sigh. your hot breath curls up in the confines of your body, making you recoil slightly; uncomfortably. heat is the last thing you need with the fever you’re pretty sure you’re running.

"i hate being sick. and i hate studying. can we please give up?" you complained, glancing up at him out of the corner of your eye. your hair obscures your vision, so you can only see a faint glint of amusement in his azure irises as he studies you for a moment before scooting his chair back and standing up. without another word, he leaves the room.

wow. okay.

a moment of silence passes as you sit there, lamenting over your runny nose and the way you sound like you're about to cough a lung up every time you breathe, until you hear the soft sounds of his feet padding on the floorboards coupled with what you presume is ice clinking against glass, signaling his return. you lift your head, blinking blearily. each time you breathe in through your nose, your nostrils burn like dry ice pressed against your skin, only adding to your misery. the dreary weather outside isn't helping much, either.

the cold glass leaves a dark stain on the table, an uneven circle of condensation that soothes the aching in your fingers when your sick skin makes contact. gojo pops the can open, and you watch as he picks the glass up, tilting it to the side to pour the soda in.

“why are you holding it like that?” you asked curiously, a small yawn escaping your lips as you lean against the table. he glances down at you, a cheeky, tiny smile gracing his lips. the sound of bubbles fizzling and popping fills the cozy, cramped room; that cool, sweet liquid seems like the only thing that’ll cure your nasty cough.

“pouring it like this prevents the bubbles from escaping. you like it fizzy, don’t you?” he grins.

condensation clings to his fingers like morning dew upon flower petals as he sets the glass down. you watch the ice cubes bobble about in the soda, clinking against the cup like a mini wind chime. you’re sore from sitting in the same place with terrible posture for three hours, and there’s an ache between your fingers from gripping your pencil tight while you write.

you take a sip from the glass, letting out a contented sigh as the refreshing liquid drains down your scratchy throat. it’s not lemon honey tea for a cold, but it certainly helps. next to you, gojo takes his seat again, grabbing the throw blanket on your bed and tossing it over his legs before he grabs his pencil again. he’s using one of those short pencils, shaved down to a stub from months of use. you always offer him a mechanical pencil, but he refuses.

you sit there, waiting for him to get back to work before you realize he’s staring at you, legs crossed beneath the fuzzy blanket.

you frowned, shifting to face him as you lean against the desk. “what?”

“you’ll take care of me if i get sick too, right?” he tilts his head, like a curious bird.

“why would you get sick?”

you’re too relate to react when he makes a mad grab for your glass of soda, holding it out of your reach. a few droplets spill out and spatter onto your notebook, forcing a sigh from your lips.

“gojo…” you groaned, rubbing your temple with your fingers and praying for strength.

he just smirks, taking a lengthy sip. you watch his adam’s apple bob as a bit of condensation builds on his chin and trickles down his throat.

“you know what? i dont feel like studying either.” he announces, setting the glass back down on the wooden table with a loud thunk.

“so? what do you wanna do?” you huffed petulantly.

“download project sekai, and we can do a co-op live.”

“…you’re kidding.”

[anonymityisfunwriter]

The GED

Pairing - Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader Summary - There's more than one way to be smart. Or so you've been told. But how on Earth do you go about proving that you're not (the stupid, illiterate Avenger) dumb?

Anon's 1K Celebration | The GED Series List

"Can you please just listen to me?" Sam begs you. "I'm telling you this is a bad idea."

"Or it's an amazing idea and it'll all be for the better!" you counter, plating the last of your freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.

He snatches a cookie from the plate when he thinks you're not watching, "Or you'll make an already strained relationship like ten times worse."

You glare at him, snatching the cookie back and placing it back on the plate, "Or by then end of the day we'll have a new set of friends."

Bucky groans, entering the room just in time to hear your rebuttal to Sam's negativity, "Please, not more friends. I don't like the ones I have as it is."

"See?" Sam wildly gestures to Bucky. "When do we ever agree on anything? It just proves that this is a terrible idea!"

"Hi," Bucky finally greets you, gently pecking your lips. "Missed you. Now, who exactly are we trying to make friends with?"

"The SHIELD agents downstairs," you blithely reply.

Bucky quirks an eyebrow at you, "Why? They hate us."

"That's exactly what I said!" Sam frantically exclaims.

"Have we ever asked ourselves why they hate us?" you muse. "Maybe we need to be a little nicer to them."

"Or maybe it's because they're bitter and jealous that we're better than them," Sam remarks.

"Well, it's definitely not because of Sam's incredible sense of humility," Bucky sarcastically retorts.

"Shut up," Sam snarks. "And we are better. Our stats are better, we get first pick of assignments, our mission times are like a third of theirs, Fury trusts us a hell of a lot more, and we get all the good snacks."

"And that means we can't be friends?" you rhetorically ask. "We work together all the time!"

"Listen, it's not that bad of a deal," Bucky tries to convince you. "They tolerate us. We tolerate them. It's never caused a problem on missions or anything, so who cares? Not everyone in this world is going to like you."

"Who else doesn't like me?" you frantically question, quirking an eyebrow at Bucky.

"Everyone likes you," Bucky assures you.

"Except the people downstairs," Sam teases.

"That's it!" You throw your hands up in frustration. "I'm going down there. I'm just going to bring these cookies down there and talk to them. They're just people, I'm sure they're all really nice!"

"Nice going," Bucky mutters to Sam, elbowing him in the ribs. "Come on, can't we just leave well enough alone? Isn't it enough that the people who actually know you like you? And not to mention, I like you and I don't like anybody."

"Aww.." you coo at Bucky, caressing his cheek. "Nope, too late, I'm committed."

"Why?" Sam groans. "You're never going to get everyone in the world to like you!"

"Oh, yes, I can! I've spend my entire time out in the world cultivating a personality that's impossible not to like just to satisfy my compulsive people pleasing tendencies."

Bucky's eyebrows furrow as a teasing smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, "People really don't see this side of you enough."

Sam nods, "You're a little scary when you think people don't like you."

"Scary or strangely endearing?" you wonder.

"Scary! Definitely scary!"

Bucky sighs to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose, "You're not going to leave this alone, are you?"

You beam at the two of them, scooping up the plate of cookies, "Not even a little bit."

"It's a bad idea!" Sam bellows down the corridor as you walk away from him.

You roll your eyes as you step onto the elevator and tell Friday to take you to the third floor, where the SHIELD agents typically hung out.

It wasn't a bad idea. It was a great idea. What could go wrong with trying to bring people closer together? They were just people. They were people you had to trust with your lives, why not get to know them a little bit more?

As you step off the elevator, you immediately notice that this layout is almost identical to the one upstairs, except without all the extravagant touches of Tony Stark. You amble down the hallway, looking for a sign of anyone. You figure if the layout is the same, their common room will be in the same place as the one upstairs. 

You're right, you realize when you start to hear faint voices from where you thought their common room would be. Even all the way down the hall, voices echo off the walls as you make your way closer.

You certainly don't mean to eavesdrop or listen into a conversation that you're not supposed to hear.

No, you definitely don't mean to eavesdrop on your new friends, but the open floor plan does nothing to dampen the sounds of their booming voices. 

"Yeah, I leave first thing tomorrow," an unfamiliar voice sighs.

"Who with?" someone else asks.

You don't like the way they spit Bucky's name out in disgust, "Barnes."

"Oh, he's the worst!" the same voice dramatically groans. You silently scoff at the insinuation that Bucky was the worst. "He just sits and stares like he's got nothing better to do."

"Please, I'd take him over his girlfriend any day," a different female scoffs.

You freeze at the mention of yourself. You know you should go. You shouldn't be listening to this. The things they were saying were definitely not nice, but neither was eavesdropping.

"Oh come on, she's not that bad."

You sigh in relief, feeling a little better that someone was defending you. You could go upstairs and tell Sam that he was wrong, not all the SHIELD agents were that bad.

And in the next second, you were proved very, very wrong.

"She's just such an idiot!" Your stomach twists in knots as the same SHIELD agent continues complaining about you. This is what you got for eavesdropping, you tell yourself. They're entitled to their own opinions about you. Better yet, you could change their minds and show them that there was more to you than what meets the eye. You just don't want to believe that people can be this mean, that it's so easy for them to be this casually cruel. They just didn't know you. You were sure that if they did know you all, they wouldn't be saying such awful things. "I don't know what everyone sees in her, but I swear I can see right through that whole Sunshine act."

"I dunno, she acted like that on the last mission I had with her."

"She didn't let up? Not once?"

"Nope! The whole time."

"I'd rather get caught by the bad guys then deal with her for a whole week."

"Who knows, maybe Barnes likes them dumb," the agent giggles. The words feel like a punch to the gut. You want to leave, to turn on your heels and pretend like you never heard a thing, but you're frozen in shock. "Like a Stepford Wife thing."

"If that's true, then they'll be together forever," the same agent, the one going on a mission with Bucky tomorrow, jokes. 

"What do you think they even talk about?"

"Who knows?"

"My question is what kind of adult makes it knowing as little as she does?"

"The kind with Fury in their back pocket."

"Exactly! It's the only reason she's even apart of the team. I'd bet anything she's never even picked up a book."

"Can I tell you guys something?" an agent exclaims. "Someone got into a bunch of their files upstairs. And guess what? She can't even read! She's illiterate! An illiterate Avenger!"

Your blood runs cold. Those were private. They held so much intimate information about you and your history and they were using it to make fun of you, make fun of the people that chose to love you.

You weren't sure what was worse, that they were using your past to make fun of you, or that they knew intimate details of your past, they knew the torment you were put through as a child and they still thought it was funny, they still used it as a way to belittle you. As though you had any control over it. As though it was your fault.

It's only then that you realize that tears are staining your cheeks, that you're still standing in the hallway with a plate of cookies as a peace offering for the SHIELD agents making fun of you and your friends. 

"Probably doesn't even know what a book is. Maybe her next mission should be a day of kindergarten."

It's mean. It's meaner than they have any right to be, but a lightbulb goes off in your head as you finally regain the ability to leave.

You furiously wiped away your tears, storming down the corridor and back to your side of the Compound. You leave the plate of pastries on the counter for your team mates.

And you made a decision right then and there. You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't try to convince them that you were smart. You would just do better. Be better. You were going to show them that you could be more than the illiterate Avenger. 

In that very moment, you decide your very next mission: School.

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Grumpy Sunshine Series Anon's 1K Celebration

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez@ludicbouquetfromearth@matchat3a@famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff@valoraxx@blue786sworld@buckyandgeraltsupremacy@geminigengar@ansaturn@ecolle@lexhalstead3@ybflkmj@mediocre-daydreams@shanye1112@thegirlnextdoorssister@toomanyfanficsbruh@moonlightreader649@breathtaking-cynthia@mirikusashes@beans-and-toast@niyahcoca@katiechikin@elxvrr@antiheroxsblog@infamouslyclumsy@krissydclayton93@buckysbarne@deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic@whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy

[virginburial]

can you write sth about ethan x reader where she gives him his first blowjob as a thank you for tutoring her? like she’s flirting with him all the time and he stares at her a lot so she suggests it and he’s so nervous but agrees

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ virgin Ethan getting head? sigh, I'm so touch starved and lonely I need another boyfriend (chad meeks martin).

Ethan Landry CD mix!       .·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.

"I only needed this class 'cus it's a prerequisite for the program I'm going into, but I think I truly got it now." you beam from ear to ear. Ethan and you were studying together since your entire friend group decided to take statistics together. now, it was thirty minutes until the library shuts for the day and the study group ended hours ago. Ethan was kind enough to explain graphs for two hours to you, but you couldn't help but feel his eyes burn into yours, or stare directly into your chest before he pretends to look at the ground.

you weren't oblivious to how much Ethan stared at your cleavage, or how much he stared at you in general. so you decided to toy with him a little. "thanks so much for the help, Landry. I know I wasted your evening-" "-no, don't mention it, y/n." he softly smiled. "it's the least I can do, if one of us fails, all of us fail." he chirped.

"How can I make it up to you?"

"maybe by passing stats."

you giggle softly, seeing his smile widen as your hand slowly goes to his knees. "I meant more like...how can I make it up to you now?" you bat your lashes. seeing blush spread across his cheeks and onto the tips of his ears told you everything you needed to know. it took a few questions; "what if someone sees us-?" "-the library is closing soon." "do you like me-?" "-I dunno, do you like me?" "This is not how I imagined this going-" "-awh, you imagined it?" it was a small back and forth that resulted in you dropping on your knees, going under the table, and palming a nervous Ethan, who was relaxing into your touch but shaking with anxiety.

you were losing time, seeing the clock's hands move closer and closer to the closing time as you stripped Ethan of his pants; having them cuffed around his ankles. he was nervously looking around, looking out for nosy librarians and unsuspecting bookworms as you slowly slip his cock out from his boxers. the skin on skin contact made him gasp, covering his mouth with his hand as he looked under the table. "oh fuck..." he softly whimpered out as his hand snuck down to your wrist, trying to control the pace.

your lips grazed his tip before sucking him down, and his reaction to everything made you so wet. he was so innocent when it came to these kinds of things, you wondered if this was his first blowjob. his breathing was so heavy but quiet, and his thighs tensed up with pleasure as he grabbed a chunk of your hair. soft moans crept from the cracks in his hands as he forced himself quiet. "t-this feels so-so good...you feel s-so good..." he mumbles softly as his cheeks turned a deeper shade of red.

your eyes looked up at him with lust as his cock twitched against your tongue. he was so sensitive, his chest starting to rise up and doing as you moved your lips against his shaft. you could see him sliding down the chair, unintentionally stuffing more and more of his cock in your mouth as saliva hit the carpet under the both of you. "such a sweet thing, using your pretty little lips like that..." he huffed out in a whisper, accidentally letting out a soft moan (before hearing a SHHHH from across the library cus lol)

his tip was starting to hit the back of your throat, seeing his hips jerk and small whimpers spill out of him like water. there was no point in hiding how good you were making him feel, he couldn't help the amount of pleasure he was feeling. "m-more..." he croaked out as a faint whine left him. if he wasn't looking so damn cute, pretending he was reading Webster's Dictionary, then maybe you could've pulled away for a quick kiss; instead, you picked up the pace.

Ethan melted more and more, a small hiss left him as he started bucking his hips uncontrollably (he was so lucky the library was practically empty because he looked like he was seizing up in his seat). his heavy breaths began to pollute the air as he shuddered, his jaw slacked from pleasure as his cock started jamming into your tight throat. you, the perfect angle you are, sucking your cheeks and feeling the back of your throat tighten from pressure, as a loud, low, sorta-growl-of-a-moan came out of him. cum runs down your throat as a shaky sigh leaves him speechless, he looks so damn cute blushing over how you violently sucked him off in the library. he wasn't expecting it to be so satisfying.

"fuck...I gotta tutor you more..."

     .·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.

buy me a coffee ૮⸝⸝> ̫ >⸝ ა

[seraphinitegames]

The Wayhaven Chronicles—Update 15/Sept/2023

As I’m fast approaching my end date for planning, I’m barely able to contain myself for getting writing! :D

Though I have got a list of some ‘housekeeping’ I want to do once I get started. There’s definitely some things I’ve learned with coding that I can streamline, so I’ll be adding those in before I get going on the opening scene (which hopefully will certainly leave an impact…;D).

I’ve also got to make a final decision on a certain new stat I’m thinking of adding.

I’m wondering whether to add a stat for ‘Agency Reputation’. This wouldn’t be like the hidden stat that tracks how the overall supernatural community views the MC but would show what your colleagues at the facility think of your character.

It would be a text-based stat and would be things like: heroic, feared, resilient, etc.

But there’s already personality stats and new Agency skill stats, so I’m not sure adding something ELSE would be a good idea. Might just be too much to track for me for coding, as well as too much information for the player.

Yet, I do really like the idea of making playthroughs even more individual, but I guess something like reputation is something I could headcanon for my characters…so I’m undecided.

(I realise it seems like I’m blabbering, hehe! But I like to share, if I can, the process of how I work these things out and so you can get a sense of where I’m at and why things do or don’t get added!)

The Book One refresh is really coming on a pace too! I’m only getting the weekends to work on that as I like to focus on Book Four during the work week, but I’m still managing to push on with it. I’m also taking the opportunity to note down anything I may have forgotten from Book One as I go, as I can clearly remember the big moments, but the smaller ones are still impactful and I might want to bring up in future books.

Hope you all have the most fabulous weekend! We’ll be offline, so I’ll talk to you all again next week!

[theresattrpgforthat]

I was wondering if you had recommendations for a game that evokes the vibe of like The Thing (or Among Us) from the social angle - there is something here passing itself off as human, as *one of us*, and we need to find out who it is. Maybe with hidden roles? It seems like there's a lot of interesting space to explore there.

Thank you!!

Theme: Hidden Role Games

Friend, I've got more games for you than I thought I was initially going to find, and each one is in a different setting! Enjoy!

What We Thought We Knew, by Mouse.

You play as a group of friends who have known each other for many years- at the very least since highschool, and have gone through many transitional phases with each other.

It has recently been revealed to you that someone in your friend group has not actually been there for all of these events- they have been implanted in the group for whatever reason and all your memories modified to fit them into the narrative. None of you know who it is -- not even the fake.

In order to find out who the fake is, you must experience some of your core memories together again, moving through them like you are those versions of yourselves again, to try and spot the mistakes in the memories, the distortions that don’t quite make sense in the context of everything else happening.

The hidden role in this game is as determined by the GM, and the fake will not know that they are the imposter at the beginning of the game. The setting for this game appears to be relatively agnostic, so you could make this a fantasy setting, a futuristic setting, or even a modern setting. Characters have four stats: Head, Heart, Flesh and Beyond. The game is designed off of Caltrop Core, so when you roll your dice according to stat, there’s graded successes/failures. Players will also get chances to identify a distortion, which helps the group figure out what pieces of information don’t add up. If you want a game with mystery for almost everyone a the table, you might want to check out this game.

Jackrabbit Parole, by Willow Willis.

Well, you screwed up. Whatever you did, it was bad enough to land your ass in prison. Not just your average state-of-the-art correctional institution, either. This place is Bad News.

Parole? Don’t make me laugh. This is your life now. There’s no help coming for you and your fellow unfortunates. You’ll shit, sleep, work and eat when and where they tell you to for the rest of your miserable existence. If you want out, there’s only three paths:

Execution. Suicide. Or escape.

And since the first two don’t sound too promising, all you’re left with is jackrabbit parole.

Jackrabbit Parole is a game about prison escapees, one of which is a Snitch. The exact setting of the prison is up to you - the only thing that matters is that you’re stuck here unless you find a way to get yourselves out. You’ll roll to determine what your characters’ relationships are, and draw cards determine your roles.

There are two special roles: the Ringleader and the Snitch. The Ringleader has access to everywhere in the prison; the Snitch wants to get as much information as possible and pass it on to the guards. The Snitch profits by keeping everyone here, which means that players cannot communicate openly about their plans. The game plays over three acts, so I think it’s pretty easy to contain inside a single session, and it comes with some suggested settings if you’re not sure where to start.

Conspire, by Cherry Picked Games.

Conspire is a hidden-role storytelling game. Players delve into any moment of conflict, real or fake, and populate the scene with shady figures. They secretly assign objectives to these in-world characters and shuffle the roles amongst themselves. Everyone draws a role to inhabit and acts them out, not knowing who any of the others are or what they are trying to accomplish. What follows is an intense tale of bluffing, brokering deals, and shaping the very universe to your whims.

This feels like a GM-Less game, with all of the roles and motives of each character determined according to the setting and people created by the group at the table. Each piece of the puzzle is created collaboratively, so you’ll know what’s going on with one or two people, but not the whole picture. If you want a game that gives everyone the same responsibilities and has the flexibility to fit the settings in your head, this might be the game for you.

Eulogy of a Fool, by Kate.

In Eulogy of a Fool, all players are attending the funeral of a Fool. However, the Fool is in this crowd, having faked her own death to collect on a life insurance policy.  Everyone in attendance must give a eulogy while the Fool tries to blend in and everyone else is trying to single out any suspicious persons.

This game consists of a series of cards, 20 of which are Identity cards, and 30 of which are relation cards. There will only be about as many cards in play as there are players for any given game, so I think having so many options allows for a different game every time you play. Each player will also have to give a eulogy about the deceased, using information given to all non-imposters, while the Fool will have to improvise as best as they can. Looking at the instructions and prep for this game, I think this game would be very easy to learn. There’s a script for the GM to follow while running the game, and the cards make it easy to generate characters on the fly. If you want a game that’s part ttrpg, part card game, this might be the game for you.

EUREKA, by @anim-ttrpgs

Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is an original, fully fledged, 200-page 2d6 TTRPG from The Agency of Narrative Intrigue and Mystery inspired by The X-Files, Kolchak: The Nightstalker, and much more!

Eureka features investigation mechanics that let players take initiative, use their characters’ unique strengths to find clues, and deduce conclusions themselves rather than to just walking into a room and roll Investigate.

EUREKA’s main focus is on solving mysteries, but the way character creation is meant to be set up means that it is very likely that characters will have a lot of secrets, purposefully hidden from the rest of the group at game start. If you are playing a supernatural creature of some kind, your character will have plenty of reasons to keep their identity a secret. While the group is trying to solve whatever mystery there is, your characters will have to decide just how much they trust each—other, with dramatic reveals possibly prompting some thrilling and suspenseful moments. This game isn’t quite in it’s final form, but there’s a robust community currently play-testing it, and the folks behind the development are very eager to answer questions and help you get a game to the table.

Loyalty, by jackdawfactories.

You are the crew of a deep-space mining vessel who have just been awoken from stasis. You are coming in to land on a previously uncharted planet, and must investigate the nearby cave system for its utility to you - but of course, there’s more to it than that…

Loyalty is a game based on Ridley Scott’s Alien, and combines standard RPG mechanics with a hidden role aspect. Survive the horror you have unleashed while working out who - anyone - is the traitor in your midst.

This is a game in which more than one person could have a secret role. You draw a card from a regular deck of playing cards, and based on what kind of face you have, you are either an android infiltrator, or a human. Because the character creation is randomized, it’s totally possible to have an entirely human crew - but the players won’t know this, and thus the paranoia will still be present.

On top of this paranoia, you’ll be facing off against an alien, and the more you come up against it, the stronger it gets. There’s a win condition, a lose condition, and the possibility to eject a suspect out of an airlock. If you like heightened stakes and no good endings, this might be the game for you.

The Warmest Place to Hide, by Rosie.

The Warmest Place To Hide is a TTRPG homage to John Carpenter's The Thing. 

It is the longest night in Antarctica, and something has made its way inside the research station at which you work. You and your teammates must work together to protect yourselves from assimilation - but when the creature can make itself look like anyone and anything, who can you really trust?

Create a base, populate it with crew, then see if you can survive an alien invasion.

This is the game for folks who want a direct re-creation of The Thing. As this is a Caltrop Core game, the rules are fairly minimal and use dice pools of d4’s. You can roll randomly for your character’s background, and choose an archetype that will give you specific skills and special abilities. You’ll also receive a random assignment of “Human” or “Something Else”. If you are Something Else, you always have to opportunity to take over any dead characters.

I’m not entirely sure how you communicate to players that they are Something Else without alerting the whole table; I’m assuming that this is the sort of game that involves passing a lot of notes. I think it might also be interesting if the GM introduces other threats that could kill players so that the Thing can approach and assimilate them without the players necessarily knowing who’s doing it.

[makncheese12]

Big Girl

A/N: I want you guys to know I’m still very confused with ‘to’ and ‘too’ it’s very aggravating

Stats: requested

Jenna Ortega X bodyguard!GN!reader

“It’s gettin’ crowded out there,” your colleague says as you both glance out the front doors of the hotel Jenna was staying at. There were no flashes yet but they stood ready for when she came out.

Though you had grown used to the cameras and having the fend off the paparazzi, you were still anxious about getting her through them with their persistent pushing to get a good picture.

You had to fight urges to shove them and away from her, yell in their faces for pushing her, hell even hide her away to prevent those things but you knew it’s what they wanted. A reaction from someone to have a big headline of the sort and you didn’t want to give them that satisfaction.

“Yeah,” you mumble before looking back toward the stairs. “So make sure she can get through.” He nods in response, sensing the nerves you always tend to have when there were big crowds.

“She’ll be fine, she always is with you around.” He replies as people begin to shout toward a celebrity who walks out.

You nod and can’t help but agree. While Jenna was out in Romania you decided to become a body guard just for her sake. You knew she would become big after seeing the responses to preview to the Wednesday Series.

It wasn’t like you didn’t really trust other body guards that were issued to celebrities, but you were to afraid they’ll look away for one moment and she’ll be pulled into a crowd of adoring fans.

So who better than to be her personal body guard than you? You were big enough and with enough working out you had the strength to push through crowds for her.

Jenna enjoyed the idea, you following her around like a big dog and possessively protecting her from the paparazzi. She liked the idea so much she even told you she’d pay for the training herself.

You, of course, declined and went straight into training. After a few months of sore muscles and long lectures, you were flown out to Romania immediately by her demand to start working.

The man next to your now was your partner during training and he seemed capable of keeping the paps away, especially with how much bigger he was than you.

“How do I look?” You ask looking down at yourself, he barely glances at you, smirk evident on his face. “Same as before, just a different shade.”

You press your lips together before hitting his chest with the back of your hand. “Funny,” you mumble rolling your eyes.

“She’s on her way down.”

A voice sounds through the small microphone in your ear making both you and the man next to you stand up straight, ready to help Jenna through the crowd.

“I’ll go forward a bit, make a little path for you both.” He states before looking you over. “You look good though.” He says with a nod before making his way over to the double door, standing at the ready.

You smile softly before glancing up toward the stairs where Jenna walked down along with another woman you only send a glance toward.

You can’t help your smile from growing at the sight of her. She had shedding down from her tuxedo dress and the long cape that came after it. It left her in the white button and her little bow. The corset only added to the feature as it hugged her curves perfectly and you wondered if she had anything on to cover her bottom half.

The thought is quickly dispelled when her eyes land on yours, seemingly lighting up as her pace quickens.

You take a step out of the corner as she nears you, eyes still scanning over her to take in the view you were given.

She had looked absolutely ethereal earlier in her gown for the Met Gala but this? This was much better than what you could ask for.

Sure, you saw parts of Jenna the world would never see but it still felt like a blessing when you saw how she looked everyday. From the moment you both wake up to the time you both lay down for bed and close your eyes. And it was truly a blessing to you.

One you were eternally grateful for and will be to the day you die.

“Take a picture, it should last longer.” You wish you could. You only roll your eyes at her comment before she stops in front of you, cheeky smile as she leans slightly forward toward you.

“You look stunning, as usual.” You say, grabbing her arm gently and pulling her cheek to your lips. She lets out a quiet huff before looking over you. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

Her eyes settle on your chest for a moment before reaching out and readjusting your bow tie then looking up at you.

“Ready?” You ask glancing toward the cameras that are already flashing. “Almost,” she mumbles before leaning up on her tippy toes — the heels giving her a little more height but not enough — and grabbing the sides of your face and pulling your down a little.

The kiss is gentle yet passionate, the feeling sending tingles down your body as you feel yourself melt in her grasp. All thoughts of having to protect her gone and making it feel like she was the one who had to protect you in your bubbly state.

She pulls away slowly with a smile on her face before nodding. “Now I’m ready.” She says smooth out her corset before patting your jacket.

You laugh lightly before holding out your arm for her and she takes it immediately. You pull your sunglasses down as you make your way out the doors, the cameras flashing quickly as you both pass, yelling things and asking you to turn slightly but you continue on toward the car.

————

You giggled quietly as you walked Jenna out of the doors, she stumbled around slightly before gripping your arm tighter to steady herself.

She seemed to have a lot of fun, especially once to alcohol hit her system and she would wander off without you.

You didn’t need to follow her though because you knew no one could hurt her inside and away from the people so you let her do her thing and find you once she was done with whatever she was doing.

Occasionally she would come back to find you, check on you with a little light flirting you fed into before getting distracted and going back into the crowd leaving you to go back to drinking and conversating with the dates of others.

Now, you kept a firm hold around her waist as she leaned into you, trying to keep herself up right.

She suddenly slightly pushes off of you once the cold air hits and begins walking on her own. You laugh lightly as you follow closely behind her.

“Where are you going?” You ask matching her walking rhythm as she looks around slightly, ignoring the paparazzi and waving toward her fans.

“I’m going to the car,” she says looking back at you with a mischievous smile you had grown fond of even if it lead to unexpected things. “I can walk by myself, I’m a big girl.” She sticks her tongue out teasingly as she continues to walk confidently in no real direction.

“Okay,” you laugh out before stopping and turning slightly. She sends a glance back at you and slows her pace, a confused look setting on her face as you begin walking in the other direction, resembling that of a lost child.

you can’t help but stare in awe at the sight, fighting the urge to follow back after to her.

“But as a big girl you should know that’s the wrong way.” You call out and through your hand up to wave toward her.

It takes her a moment to process, looking back in the other direction then back toward you before hurriedly walking after you.

You stop a moment to let her catch up, afraid she’ll fall in her heels if she moves to quickly and allow her to slide her arm through yours.

“Oh?” You hum out as you begin walking again, amused by the situation given to you on a silver platter. It was always so fun to watch drunk Jenna, even if she was a little tipsy. “I thought you were a big girl.”

“I am,” she argues quickly, sending you a warning glare when you bark out a laugh. “Big girls can use a little help sometime though, especially if it’s from people like you.”

You look toward her with a raised eyebrow but she doesn’t see as she raises her chin and closes her eyes, small smile on her face.

“Like me?” You ask and look forward to make sure you both don’t trip and fall.

“Yes, breathtaking people like you.” She gives you a doe eyed look, clearly intent on making you flustered. It works as your cheeks heat up and your smile grows to a wide one. You cover it up by snorting quietly and shake your head.

She had always had this effect on you, even before you started dating and even now when she’s half drunk and doesn’t know where she’s going. Especially now.

“You’re the one whose breath taking, I’m just in a simple tux as usual.” You shoot back and she lets her face fall, unamused. “I like your ‘usual’ tux, it makes you look sexy.” She grumbles and pinches your arm.

“Ow.” You laugh out as she lets out a quiet huff as breeze passes by causing her to shiver lightly. You frown lightly before wrapping your arm around her shoulders and she immediately leans in.

You loved little moments like this. Moments where you didn’t have to worry about getting her from one place to another or dragging her about. Moments where you didn’t have to worry about someone picking her up and trying to kidnap her. Moments where you could just relax a little.

It was nice to have a peaceful moment to breath and take in each others presence every once in a while. Sure, it was just like this in the privacy of your home far more open inside but it wouldn’t kill you to also be able to go out and stretch to do the same.

Jenna suddenly breaths in heavily before letting out a sigh of content. “You smell good.” She mumbles and you smile. “All the more reason big girls need help.”

Her comment makes you roll your eyes with a laugh as you pull away from her reluctantly, nearing the large group of people nearby.

She lets out a whine as you grab her arm, you felt the same. You didn’t want to let go of her but you also needed to get passed everyone without any problems.

You pull your sunglasses down as the flashing of the camera begins and Jenna becomes a little more sober, though still stumbling around her faces goes back to the one she keeps up in front of the people.

The second body guard opens the door for you both as you cross the street and near the car.

He nods you to you as you gently lead Jenna inside and make sure she doesn’t hit her head. “Enjoy yourself?” He asks with a smile. The question was meant to be a teasing one, he knew how you didn’t like being near snobby celebrities who put on a face to seem like something your not.

But the evening had actually been good, especially after the few minutes you got to walk with Jenna.

“Very much so.” You smirk before following after her hearing his chuckle before the door shuts behind you.

As soon as you take your seat she presses her body against you, arms wrapping around you to the point where she practically sat in your lap.

You chuckle lightly as you slide your arm around her waist and allow her to rest her head on your shoulder.

“I’m tired.” She mumbles lowly, sinking further into like she had just fallen asleep after saying the words.

“We’ll be there soon, don’t fall asleep.” You reply, rubbing her back to sooth her a little but it only makes her more sleepy. “Or you can just wake me up when we get there.” she mumbles, burying her face further into your neck and taking a deep breath in.

“Big girls should wake themselves up.” You taunt before feeling another pinch on your arm. You look down to see the sleepy glare she sends you before smiling.

“Well this big girl needs you to wake her up,” she huffs out before going back to her original position. “After all you need to do what I say, you work for me.”

You hear the teasing tone in her sleepy voice.

“Oh, is that right?” You ask, challenging her slightly and she nods. “Yes it is, as my body guard you have to do what I say.”

You resist the urge to laugh out before she speaks again. “So, I’m telling you you have to wake me up.” She states matter-of-factotum as her breathing begins to slow down.

“And if I don’t?” Her face scrunches up lightly before it relaxes again. “Then I’ll have to fire you and lock you away.” She mumbles slowly in response before her breathing evens out signaling how tired she was.

You smile lightly before brushing a few strands of hair behind her ear to get a better look at her face. She didn’t have much make up on, not that she needed it. She was more than beautiful without it. She was a goddess. Your goddess you had to protect like the good little follower you were.

And you planned on doing so until she got tired of it.

You kiss her forehead lightly before resting your head back against the head rest of the seat to get a better look at it.

“Yes ma’am.” You mumble quietly taking in the view she oh so graciously gave you.

A/N: once again another short one but oh well

NOW REQUEST DAMN IT… pretty please

[titanicfreija]

So....

We know that the civilians watch the crucible.

I started wondering what that looks like.

Cos we obviously see it from person to person, sometimes when we're dead we can follow behind an ally kind of thing, but what does the average civilian see?

It's easy to imagine that they get an overlay and an external view, but I'm not sure about likely camera placement. Drones, easy, but where? Probably some Guardian cams feeds, for specific moments, but those are likely too chaotic and unclear.

Overlay would likely contain a map of the entire arena, like our radar but with a little more detail and markers of Guardians, likely our emblems, maybe with numbers assigned for the match. The little X when we die, like on our radar.

Rise suggested things like the overlay on the ESPN football games, where they mark the down line and project sponsor logos and shit, so we could imagine Tex Mechanica or Omolon symbols cast on walls.

Things like highlights, replays, slow-mo recaps; those intro scenes and player stat screens. Deadliest Guardian, scored the most points, etc.,

Between matches, things like interviews or player profiles, screens showing our ELO with full career and seasonal stats.

Did wonder how much gore is standard. Like if they only show a cleaned up (not clean, but just less brain on the walls) version for civilian feeds. I know everyone has seen it, but still.

Or if there's an actual league with team lists and known players and how far that not-fandom would go, like with trading cards.

Anyway, I had fun with the thought

[wayfayrr]

Hello! If I may, I’d like to make a request.

When I was little (between 4 and 8), my brother and I played Ocarina of Time constantly. It was our go-to game when hanging out. We replayed it and found all secrets and stuff. I was wondering if you could do a platonic self aware OOT!Link one shot? One where Link considers the player to be like a sibling to him since they grew up together in a way?

Thank you so much! I really enjoy your work ❤️

you're very welcome anon! this was such a sweet request to write!! I went with the post timeskip link for this seeing as I've already written one for Majora's mask link and I thought it would be more interesting to have that difference between the two pieces <3 I hope you'll enjoy this

[masterlist]

“Hey, I’ve been wanting to ask for a while… do you still have that old copy of Ocarina of time we used to play together? I’ve been kinda wanting to replay it. It’s a bit of a pain to get a new one or an emulator though so…”

“Uh? I think so, I can check in my attic later and drop it around your place tomorrow if I can?”

“That sounds perfect, thanks for the favour man.”

That was a fairly productive phone call, now I hopefully won’t have to mess about with an emulator or shell out for the subscription to play it again. Seeing as Nintendo doesn’t want to make their old catalogue accessible. All I need to do on my end is to wait and possibly google how to set up an N64 in the meantime.

Turns out that we did still have the old thing, and that it isn’t all that hard to set up either so it’s not like it takes too long for me to hear the calmingly melancholic tones of the game’s opening theme. Our old save file is still there too, although some of the stats on the file seem to have gotten a little bit corrupted because I’m convinced we completed it fully. Although it’s been what like 10 years or more since I would’ve last played, it makes sense that I might just be misremembering things. No harm in seeing where we left off though is there?

Well even though the file says otherwise, looking through Link’s inventory really wants to disprove that - there’s something with the same sprite as Zelda’s letter where it should just be an empty slot. It’s not got a name, if I hover over it it simply brings up a missing value error and the button prompt me to read it. It’s not like there’s any issue if I did open it, it’s an old save file so even if it does corrupt I won’t lose anything. 

Nothing happened, just a fade to blank before it glitched out and the inventory screen popped back up so that I could close it and have a look around…

How did Link turn around as I was paused in the inventory and how did his face get so close to the screen?

“[Name]? I knew you’d be back at some point! I knew you wouldn’t just leave your older brother for good… you wouldn’t would you?”

“...How do you know my name..?”

I know that Ai has gotten incredibly good recently but this is an N64, an unmodded one at that, so whatever the hell is happening right now can’t be due to that. This feels like it could be the start to a creepypasta though with everything going on right now - is this like a real life ben drowned - no it can’t be, he’d be crying blood if it were the case and he wouldn’t be as friendly either. 

“Because you told me it all those years ago when you first played through the game? You always spoke to me like I was a real person, like you saw me as your older brother, so it’s only natural that I started to see you like a little sibling right? Then when you disappeared I got so worried, It’s been so long but you’ve gotten so much older! Did you pull the mastersword yourself, because this much time can’t have really passed can it?... Can it?”

He looks almost like he’s about to cry, I should be caref- why am I so worried about hurting the feelings of a fictional character? Is it cause he sees me like a sibling, a younger one; because he knows me from when I was younger; or because he seems so attached to me already? Maybe I should just… turn it off so I don’t have to deal with it.

“I don’t remember how long it’s been, a good few years at least, Since I’ve played it. I wasn’t exactly planning to-”

“Is that what you used to control me!? I’ve never been able to get a good look at it before. Would you mind bringing it closer?”

“...Yeah I can bring it closer.”

The way he interrupted me was so so sad, he’s forcing himself to be cheery when he looks like he’s about to break down, like how an older brother would act. He really sees himself as my older brother doesn’t he? I have to admit that the way he’s leaning against the screen like an excited kid is also pretty cute I won’t lie to myself, if it weren’t for how insane the situation is I don’t think I’d mind him being my younger brother. He’s younger than me now anyway so that makes far more sense. 

Is the screen cracking beneath him? 

It’s definitely cracking under his weight, there are seconds left before it shatters.

“It’s so simple and yet it was the reason that you were able to-”

Glass can only last so long. And now he’s out, lying on my floor in a shocked heap with glass shards surrounding and covering him. After a couple of seconds of neither of us knowing what to do, we both snap into action at the same time, while I try to help him up and check for any serious wounds… he’s just laughing with the widest goofiest smile on his face, grabbing at my arms like I’m nothing but a wisp of a dream. 

“I - wow I - I could never have imagined that I could - that this - that this was even an option for me…”

“But I can be your brother in person now can’t I?”

[toppersjeep]

Part 1 Where Do We Go Now- Lando Norris X Reader

Masterlist

y/ngasly☑️:Another year around the sun with you. Max I love you more than anything in this world. This year you became a two time world champion I am so beyond proud of you. Thank you for loving me for who I am. And supporting me even though I don’t work for Red Bull. Max you are my friend I love you endlessly and can’t wait for our future together. Here’s to the new year - tagged maxverstappen1

Liked by 2 million

maxverstappen1☑️: The love of my life. I love you so much beautiful. So blessed to have you by my side these last four years. You are my lucky charm I don’t know what I’d do with you Y/N. Here’s to us and a new year!!

redbullracing ☑️: come be our reserve driver miss gasly 😉

landonorris☑️: reply to redbullracing: nope!! she’s ours and she’s the best you can’t take her ever.

landonorris☑️: I’m so single but thanks for taking care of my best friend max! Happy new year

pierregasly☑️: happy new year to you both

alexalbon☑️: second best couple

mclaren☑️: we love you not max just you 😁

y/ngasly☑️: reply to mclaren: love you guys more than max 🥰

maxverstappen1☑️: reply to y/ngasly: umm?? hello I’m right here as you replied

f1fan: I just know Lando is logged in to the mclaren account

landonorris☑️: reply to f1fan: 😁

y/nxmax4ever: FOUR YEARS??

maxfan33: max put a ring on her already

_______

Your POV

“So you excited for the first race” I said. “You know you could still join me at Red Bull” Max said. “Max I love you but I’m happy” I said. “I know you are just blue suits you better” Max said. “Hmmm okay let’s the going to the track” I said.

We drove to the track for the first race of the new season. I walked in with Max. As always the Netflix cameras were filming us.

“How was the break for the lovely power couple” the producers asked. “It was wonderful” I said. “Would be even better if she took the Red Bull deal” Max said I laughed. “Never” I said. “Alright this is me love you” Max said kissing me.

“Love you” I said giving him a kiss as he walked into the Red Bull paddock. “So you didn’t take the deal” the producers asked. “Personally I’m a McLaren girl so” I said with a smile. “Y/N” Lando yelled from the McLaren paddock.

“Lan” I said running over and hugging him. “I missed my best friend so much” Lando said. “I missed you too Lan” I said. “Got some good strategies for me” Lando said sitting beside me. I opened up my laptop. “Yes I do so please pay attention” I said.

“Alright I’m listening I promise” Lando said with a smile. “Okay good let me pull up the last stats” I said. “You organize everything huh” Lando asked. “It’s better to be organized Lan” I said.

Later…

Lando was in P2 of this race. Max was in P1. I was trying to figure out a good strategy for him. People always thought I’d favor Max over Lando. But when it came to racing. Lando was top priority to me.

I love Max I do. But I’m not working for Red Bull. And I’m here to make sure Lando comes out on top.

“Lando the gap to Max is 1.8 seconds now” I said. “There’s one lap left do you think I have time to pass” Lando said over the radio. “The team doesn’t wanna risk the position Lando” I said. Zak nodded. “What do you think though Y/N” Lando asked.

“Lan P2 is great and Oscar is P4 we will have good points” I said he sighed. “…okay Y/N that’s fine then love” Lando said. “Love Lando” I said he laughed. “I’m sorry.. okay so how was that” Lando said.

He crossed the finish line in P2.

“P2 Lando congratulations that’s major points and a podium” I said smiling. “Thank you so much Y/N great strategy today” Lando said. “Great race Lan we are proud of you” I said. “Next time we get that P1 Y/N” Lando said.

“Definitely Lando your day is coming I know that” I said. “I couldn’t do it without you thank you for being here” Lando said.

We then went over to Lando. I hugged him.

“Good job” I said. “You had the best idea” Lando said. “I am pretty great aren’t I” I said. “You are indeed” Lando said. “Oscar great race” I said hugging him. “I might need your help too” Oscar said. “Nope she’s all mine” Lando said.

I then saw Max looking over at me.

“Go get him” Lando said. “Yeah go be all cute together” Oscar said. I ran over and hugged Max. He picked me up and spun me around. “My lucky charm” Max said I kissed him. “Am I” I said.

“You are always my lucky charm” Max said. “I love you” I said kissing his cheek. “I love you more” Max said. “I gotta go with my team but I’m proud of you” I said. “I’ll see you after” Max said.

After all the celebrating. Max and I went back to our apartment to enjoy the rest of the evening.

“Would you stop cleaning” Max said picking me up. “Max I gotta before we leave again” I said he set me down on the couch. “No no not tonight” Max said. “Your so mean” I said he bent down and kissed me.

“You look good in a Red Bull shirt” Max said. “Tell anyone and I’ll steal your tires” I said. “Who’s gonna help you do that” Max said. “Roscoe I’ll have you know I’m his favorite” I said. “So if anything goes missing it was you and Ros” Max said.

“Mmmh” I said. “So what do you want to do and don’t say cleaning” Max said. “I actually wanna talk to you about something” I said. “What’s up” Max said. “Do you think we’d ever get married” I said he sat up. “I don’t know” Max said.

“We’ve just been together for four years I mean I want a future with you” I said. “I just don’t know” Max said. “Max.. you’ve known that I want to get married and have kids” I said. “But we are so young” Max said. “Can you just answer the question would you marry me” I said.

“Y/N… I