#i'm like this with everyone i care about (real and fictional) and sometimes it's hard

[kittyandco]

does anyone else get so upset when you think about all the things that happened to your f/o... all the things they went through? all the things they haven't healed from? the pain that they may still be enduring? how you can do your best to help them but you can't protect them from everything. so you just love them the ways they needed before, how they deserved. and you see them happy because they finally accept, at least in some ways, that they do deserve it. they deserve love like all beings do

[house-of-lovin]

legally binded - 3

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. ♣ prev part | next part

Chapter 3: Movie Premieres, SNL and Quarrels

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: dual!pov, famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of hard substances, intoxication, mature language, real people (do not read if any of these makes you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: Otherwise known as the One in New York. What do you guys think about R and Jenna's dynamic so far? 👀 (taking a break for a few days/maybe a week after I post this, I think I've kept you all fed for a bit while I'm gone lol, in the meantime, send asks I'll try to answer all of them!😋)

Word Count: 6.4k+

“You get on that plane and I’ll drop you as a client.” Jake’s voice rings out from your work phone. 

“What the fuck, Jake, are you serious?!” You seethe, practically red in the face. 

You have been on the phone with Jake for the last hour – Liv refuses to pick up your calls after you blew up the group chat, rehashing your argument with Jenna. Desperately pleading to fly back home because you couldn’t stand being in the same city as the actress, at the moment. 

You couldn't even think about her words without it making your blood boil.

“Fuck yeah, I’m serious. Do you know what time it is here?”

Glancing at the clock it read 3:46 A.M. EST, you roll your eyes. “It’s just past midnight in L.A. You won’t die if you don’t get eight hours of sleep.”

“Be quiet. I don’t wanna hear another word from you.” He nearly shouts and you imagine that one vein popping through his forehead. You liked to stare at it when Jake goes off on his shouting tangents at you. 

He never notices that you're not paying attention.

“Maybe we should get Liv on the phone or maybe Sarah?” Link glances at you worriedly.

He hates seeing you so riled up, so he often played the middle-man with your quarrels against Jake and Liv.

“Liv says she doesn’t wanna hear it. Sarah says forget it and I’m saying, I’m not fucking around this time Y/N, this is your last chance. I’m over your shit.” He hangs up the phone, leaving the line dead.

You jump face-first into the stiff bed, groaning loudly.

“Looks like you’re outta luck.” He pats you back, leaving you to sulk alone as he shuts the door. “Try to get some sleep.”

There was no way you ended up in this situation. 

You guess, it was fair to acknowledge your recent streak of bad behaviour. First, it was tame — ignoring your phone, running away to party, getting mixed in the wrong crowds – eventually, Link had to start dragging you out of bed by the legs (sometimes kicking and screaming) just to make it in time for a gig.

You’re not sure when all of this started. All you knew is that you were so tired. You just wanted one second to breathe; to feel like that young child again, with hopes and dreams. But no, someone was always hovering over your shoulder ready to drag you away to another event you could care less about. 

You close your eyes, allowing the jetlag and exhaustion to set in as your body moulds into the mattress.

– 

The next day, you find yourself standing in front of Jenna’s hotel room. The large double door looks menacing and faintly, you can already hear a bustle on the other side. You really didn’t want to knock but you know what was on the line so you swallow your pride and raise a fist to knock. 

But before you can knock, the door is opening revealing a girl, with dirty blonde hair bearing a semblance to a certain actress. “Oh, hi!”

“Hello.” You greet warmly.

“I’m Aliyah. Jenna’s younger sister.” She holds her free hand out.

You shake her hand, “Nice to meet you, I’m–”

“I know who you are.” She smiled then laughed, “Everyone knows who you are.”

You chuckled, shyly nodding. “I guess.”

“Are you two done?” Jenna suddenly appears, yanking the door wider so you can see her. Her makeup complements her well; the green bustier two-piece looked expertly crafted just for her; and the way her hair fell in soft waves framed her face nicely. 

“Hi…” You say a little vacant-sounding.

You don’t say anything else.

From the corner of your eye, you see her sister’s raised brow but you think you’re imagining it because you can’t keep your gaze off of Jenna. The actress raises her brow at you, impatient.

“What did you need?” She asks.

“Uh—I wanted to talk, about last night."

Jenna watches you momentarily before rolling her eyes; pulling you inside with a rough yank. “Get inside before someone sees you — Aliyah close the door.”

You stumble, still a little dazed but the smaller girl’s nails are gripping your arm painfully making you snap out of it.

“Ow, ow, ow.” You whisper, not inattentive to the multiple people scattered around the large room.

“Guys, this is Y/N.” She ignored your complaints and pulled you past the foyer into the living room – her entire team had taken refuge in the room to get the star ready for a day of press interviews.

Various echoes of your name and greetings are sent back to you but you certainly don’t miss the awkward tension in the room started by your sudden presence. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, I can just go.” You point behind you.

“Nonsense.” An older woman that looked kinda like the actress waves off. “It’s great to have you here, Miss L/N. Jenna was just talking about you.”

“Oh please, just Y/N is fine.” Shaking your head bashfully, briefly wondering what she could be telling her family and team about what kind of person you are.

“I’m Jenna’s mom. That’s her dad, her other sister Mia, and her brother Markus.” She points and you try to keep up with the names of the people she’s throwing at you; Jenna’s family and team included.

“It’s so great to meet you all. It’s not hard to see that Jenna is so loved.” You say sincerely.

“We try our best.” Her dad says looking appreciative of your words. You smile at everyone and it seems to ease a bit of the tension in the room.

You didn’t see Jenna rolling her eyes again (her favourite to do around you) disregarding the encounter; she hides the surprise she feels from your genuine compliment.

Last night's argument with you, still burning in her brain.

“What did you want to say?" She says a little bluntly.

Watching as everyone turns to go back to what they were doing, you look down at Jenna. “Um… I wanted to apologize for last night. And call a truce, maybe over dinner?

She looks surprised not expecting you to be the first one to give in. “Oh…”

“Yeah…”

“I appreciate it.” Jenna cuts in, “I’m sorry too… a truce sounds good. Sarah got mad at me too, for what it's worth. She even said I was whining.”

Jenna jokes, dropping her walls a bit.

You rub a hand on the back of your neck, chuckling, “Good to know.”

“I can’t do dinner though.” She shuts her eyes as if remembering something. 

“Oh, that’s okay. Maybe another time.”

“Or maybe… you can be my date to the Scream cast dinner?” She offers, looking a little hopeful.

“Are you sure?” You chew your lip. Ignoring the word date.

“Yeah! Totally, you can meet everyone, it’ll be great. Not to throw anyone under the bus but they’ve been trying to meet you.” She says sheepishly.

You laugh, dropping your walls just a tad. “Sure I’ll be there.”

She smiles warmly, satisfied with your answer. “Yeah, it’ll be great. I guarantee there’ll be paparazzi, so it’ll be good for publicity. They’ve been hounding me since I landed, my dad nearly pushed a guy in the airport. I couldn’t even walk to the door by myself at the SNL dinner cast party.”

You lose a bit of the smile but Jenna doesn’t see, laughing at her memory of the paparazzi. You blink around, making sure no one saw you, it might give them the wrong idea. “Uh, yeah sure. I’m good with whatever.”

“Okay, cool.” She shoots a thumb up, walking away from you. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“Mhmm.” You smile, waving goodbye to everyone and booting it out the door. 

Unsure where the tension in your chest is coming from you swiftly walk to the elevator; aggressively tapping the button as if the elevator would come faster that way. And practically throwing yourself in the metal box as soon as it opens.

You miss the entire pandemonium that implodes in the room when you leave.

“Holy shit?” Mia exclaims.

“Language.” Her mom chastises. 

“No, holy shit, indeed. Jenna oh my god what did you do to that poor girl?” Aliyah walks past Jenna to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. 

“What are you talking about?” She looks at her sisters confused.

Mia’s rolling her eyes, standing up from the couch. “Did you not see the way she was looking at you?”

“No? How was she looking at me?” She turns to her mom who had a hint of a smile on her lips as if she knew something. Jenna was starting to feel left out. 

“She likes you, Jen.” Her brother speaks up, not even bothering to look up from his phone. 

“What? You guys are crazy. We barely know each other.” Jenna starts shaking her head furiously, turning to Enrique, her stylist and close friend. “Enrique, tell them they’re being crazy.”

But he shrugs, sharing that same Cheshire grin her mom had. “God, not you too.” She clamps her eyes shut with her hands.

“Hey! Watch the eyes!” Her makeup artist warns. 

“Dad?” She drops her hands, pleading at the silent man, who, she knows is listening. Why do Dads do that thing where they let everyone argue, only stepping in when the Mom asks for backup. 

He remains in character – staying silent.

“You guys don’t know what you’re talking about. She was literally here for five seconds. How could you possibly think she likes me from that.” Jenna turns to everyone else.

“I don’t know, Jen. The eyes never lie.” Mia says, privy to the way your smile fell when Jenna mentioned being spotted for publicity tonight. 

“I’m– I’m late for interviews, I need to go,” Jenna mutters, grabbing her purse and walking to the door. 

–

“This is gonna blow up.” Your producer says from beside you. 

“I don’t know. I still think it’s missing something.” You sigh, sliding the headphones off as you slump onto the plush leather seats. 

You sneaked off to the studio not too far from the hotel in lower Manhattan. See you would have told Link or anyone really, but you were trying to be discreet. And Link is one ‘ol snitch and the personal fun police. 

It seems after your fight with Jenna, Jake and Liv put you under strict instructions not to leave the hotel unless accompanied by someone from your team. 

You’re not a fucking child. You don’t need a babysitter. So here you are, with your producer in the studio trying to record this damn song you’ve been stuck on for three months.

“Maybe it’s time to scrap the song then.” He offers. “It’s never gonna be done before Coachella.”

Immediately you are shaking your head. No, this song is special, you can feel it. If only you can get your head out of your own ass long enough to find the damn words. 

“No, just– just put it on hold. Let’s work on something else.”

He sighs, clicking the screen to pull up another file. “Your call.”

The buzzing of your phone against the wooden table echoes into the silence that grew as you waited. “Ah fuck.”

Reaching over, you grab the phone and are bombarded by a flurry of texts and missed calls. 

Some from Jenna, some from your bodyguard and driver, most from Link.

Jenna’s is the first one you click.

The phone rings three times before it gets picked up. Muffled, loud voices are all you hear at first before she eventually speaks up, “Hello?”

“Hey, I am so–”

“Where the hell are you? You’re ten minutes late. We’re all waiting for you.” Her tone is sharp and snipped. 

You had fucked up.

“Fuck… I’m sorry, I’ll be right there– there was…. uh.” You stand, gathering your jacket and silently bidding your producer goodbye as he looks on confused. “There was a lot of traffic. I am so sorry, I’m trying to make it as fast as I can.”

She sighs through the phone, “It’s…fine. Just get here as soon as you can, please.”

A little white lie never killed anybody.

You make it to the restaurant in record time. Pushing through the paparazzi camping outside the restaurant doors. Do they have no shame? Clearly not as they shout Jenna’s name at you; asking if you were there to see her, trying to get their piece of the scoop. Thankfully, the security guard had seen you and personally ushered you to the cast‘s table. Someone must have informed them that you were coming.

You’re still blinking away the spots in your vision from the camera flashes when you feel an arm pulling you down to sit. 

“What took you so long?”Jenna asked assertively, scanning you.

“I told you. Traffic.” You plaster a smile at all the eyes on you, subtly shrugging Jenna’s arm off yours with a little bit of attitude.

You don’t miss her clenched jaw. Plastering a smile in front of her costars who were trying their best not to gawk at you. "Well, where were you then? No one could get a hold of you, we were worried."

You tried your hardest to school your genuine surprise at her worry. "Sorry. I was working. My phone was off."

“Hi! I’m Melissa, it’s so nice to meet you, I’m a big fan.” A brunette extends her hand from across the long table – interrupting Jenna before she can say anything else.

You make the usual greetings, introducing yourself to Jenna’s costars and colleagues. You felt a bit like a trophy wife if you were being honest. Like eye candy on her arm, serving only to make her look good. Upon that realization, you feel a little flushed. You’re not sure why, that is the whole point of this whole thing. 

Her castmates have been sending you two knowing eyes over dinner — giving Jenna inconspicuous smirks and smug grins as if you couldn’t see. You keep your head down after the pleasantries are over and the main courses are brought out. 

Grateful, you don’t have to talk about your upcoming projects any longer.

“What’s wrong?” You nudge her elbow, noticing how she was pushing away some pieces of food on her plate. 

“I don’t like apples.” She mutters. 

You can’t fight the smile that creeps on your lips but you don’t tease. “Just push them off to the side and I’ll eat it.”

She looks at you. “You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s no big deal.” You shrug taking a sip of your wine. 

“That doesn’t gross you out or anything? I know some people are weird about that sort of thing.” Jenna explains. 

“Dude, I’ll eat your apples, chill.” You laugh.

“Okay, thanks…” She mumbles, still looking at you but you turn, talking to Mason and his girlfriend.

Jenna feels a nudge on her side. “What?” 

“You two are cute.” Jasmin smirks. “And Y/N L/N? Not a bad catch at all.”

“Stop.” Jenna blushes. Unsure if she feels uncomfortable that some of her close and respected friends believe this lie so easily.

–

“Hey, give them some space!” The security guard shouts as the paparazzi come rushing toward the door as soon as the cast steps out. 

You were standing in the lobby waiting for Jenna. “Shit…” You hear her mutter, watching as she searches for something in her bag. 

“What’s up?” You ask.

“I forgot my sunglasses in my room. The flashes hurt my eyes.” She frowns. Wordlessly, you fish the pair you stashed in your jacket. 

“Here, wear mine.” You hold the glasses out, watching as she just stares at it. Rolling your eyes, you push it toward her. “Dude, just take it.”

“Thanks…” She mumbles, sliding them up her hair. 

You walk ahead of her, holding the door open as everyone trickles out. You’re regretting giving Jenna your only sunglasses cause the flashes are bright and it’s making your eyes water.

“Go ahead,” You usher, only leaving once everyone’s gone ahead of you. You trail behind ignoring the various men with large cameras chasing you as you walk down the sidewalk. 

“Y/N over here, please! Just one photo.”

“Y/N, just one photo of you and Jenna, please!” 

“What do you have to say about Vegas?”

You ignore them keeping your head down trying not to fall behind. 

“Where’s Y/N?” You hear over the sea of nameless faces. 

“Right here.” You say, sliding in beside her.

You miss the subtle sigh of relief she lets out.

“You can’t just walk behind everyone like that.” She grits, frustratedly.

"I tried to keep up." You mumbled like a scolded husband.

The shouting increases when you stand beside one another; practically rendering you blind with all the flashes. “Dammit.” 

You place an hand on her back, pushing her forward. “Put on the sunglasses and walk.”

“Y/N, please over here. Jenna!” The shouting is constant and blurs altogether all at the same time. 

“Ow.” You feel Jenna tumble when someone bumps her side causing her to bump harshly against you. Firmly, you grab her arm to preventing her from falling and pushed back against the crowd to check on her.

“Are you okay?” you ask worriedly as she fixes the lopsided glasses. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

“Hey. Watch it–” You grit at the closest person holding a camera. “It wasn’t me.”

The man insists, still shamelessly snapping flashes directly into your face and you begin to grow angry, slapping the camera out of his hands. “I said fucking watch it, asshole.”

You glare for a brief moment as the shouting gets impossibly louder. Knowing if you didn’t pull Jenna out of this, chaos would ensue. You link hands and drag her through the crowd, briskly walking to her castmates who shared looks of concern.

“Are you okay?” You ask, still walking but now barricaded by security and her friends.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I promise.” She squeezes your hand but then sighs, “You shouldn’t have done that.”

You scoff, “Are you serious? That guy pushed you.” 

“It was an accident and you kinda overreacted.” She whispers lowly. 

You clench your jaw, dropping her hand — Not wanting to blow up in front of her colleagues, you walk swiftly ahead.

You don’t talk even when you are both side-by-side being driven back to the hotel. Her driver has the partition up halfway but you see the nosy glances he keeps making at the rearview mirror as you and Jenna sit in silence; acutely aware to the growing tension between you and the actress.

You refuse to speak, just looking out the window as other cars pass by on the street. 

“Are you done ignoring me now?” She speaks up but you still don’t want to talk. “Seriously?”

“Y/N all he did was push me. A little shove, that’s all. I’m okay. What’s not okay is the phone call you know we’re going to get from Liv and Sarah about that guy’s camera.”

“He deserved it.” You mumble through the palm holding your head up. 

“I’m not saying he didn’t but you can’t just be aggressive to paparazzi like that. It’s exactly what they want.” She reasons, turning to you. Hoping you’ll finally look at her. 

“I know…”

“Look at me, please?” She places a hand on your arm.

You turn, keeping your face impassive.

She sends you a shy smile then laughed. “I mean it though, thank you for having my back. My Dad is gonna think this whole thing is hilarious.”

“Why?” You can’t help but join in.

“He’s a cop, so he’s a little protective. He’s been waiting to shove away a pap for the longest time. He’s gonna be so mad you beat him to it.” 

You laugh imagining her father’s reaction. 

–

“You haven’t seen Scream? Not even the original?” Jenna turns bewildered like it was the most blasphemous thing she’s ever heard. You were in her hotel suite, watching movies. For some reason, Jenna invited you over to her room after being dropped off at the hotel. “How? You’re an actress.”

You couldn’t think of a good reason to say no so you accepted.

“Yeah, sorry. Jeez. Way to sound like a film snob. I didn’t know there was a checklist of movies to watch before becoming an actor.” You snort reaching for more popcorn from the bowl beside you. 

“Shut up.” She hits you with the remote. “How have you not seen any of the Scream movies? You’re literally going to my premiere tomorrow.”

You hold up your hands in surrender, throwing a couple of kernels in your mouth. “Sorry, they’re not really my cup of tea.”

She rolls her eyes, snatching some popcorn from your hand, ignoring your protests. “Oh sorry, I forgot we have an action star in our midst.”

It was your turn to hit her arm, “Shut it. I just mean… I haven’t found the time to sit and watch them. They’re not exactly short films.”

“You’re in the MCU and Dune. Don’t talk to me about long movies.”

“Touché…” You can’t beat her there. They are ridiculously long movies. Probably why you’ve only ever seen them during premiere night and never again. “Well, put one on then. Let’s see what all the hype is about.”

She grins scrambling for the remote. “You’re on.”

You wait for her to pull up the Scream catalogue, chuckling at her visible excitement.

“Hey, why did you become an actress? and singer while we’re at it, Miss Grammy winner.” She nudges your shoulder.

You snort, shoving her lazily. “Shut up… Do you want the press interview answer or the real one?”

She raises a brow, immediately deciding. “The real one.”

You nod, feeling like she would say that.

“My mom... She was a rising star in the 80s but something happened and she never got to live out her dreams. When she had me she put me through all of the arts. I bumped and failed with most of them but acting and singing kinda stuck… I guess she saw those were the only two things I could stand so she pushed and pushed, it led to Jake discovering me and here we are.”

Jenna stays silent processing your story, she doesn’t miss the slight solemness your tone had taken. "Why do I feel like there's more to it than that?"

You chuckle, licking your lips. "Caught me... it's why I don't talk to my parents anymore."

"Oh..."

"Yeah. As soon as I turned eighteen I cut ties with them. She got too controlling, wanting money, wanting autonomy over my career so I took Link with me and moved to L.A. and did it on my own. I think... at some point acting became a spite thing with me because of her.

“Spite?” Jenna asks?

“Yeah… it was all I’ve ever known for a long time until I started making music. Probably the only time I’ve ever felt sure about a decision.”

"Oh..." Jenna finds herself saying again.

"Uh–sorry. I didn't mean to make it weird. We can just forget about it." You curl into yourself, tugging the blanket to your lap.

Jenna blinks, feeling dumb that she's made you think her silence is a bad thing.

"No..." She grabs your wrist. "Thank you for sharing with me."

You look into her eyes, feeling a bit small at her kind eyes. You know it's not out of pity but you couldn't help but want to close up again.

Pulling your hand away from her grip, you cough. "Of course, we're friends now."

"Oh, are we?" Jenna ignores the drop in her chest when you pulled away like that. “Okay, what’s the press answer then?”

“That I watched the movie Cabaret when I was younger and wanted to be like Liza Minelli.” You admit.

Jenna scoffs, “That’s literally my answer.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah except, it’s Dakota Fanning in Man on Fire.”

You chuckle, “doesn’t Denzel die in that one?”

“Yeah and what about it?” She raised a brow.

"But see, don’t fight it we’re meant to be friends... we even share the same answer."

"Shut up, dummy. Every actor has some sort of answer like that.”

Eventually, the two of you start a marathon of the Scream franchise. Which in hindsight, is kind of a bad idea seeing as it was way past midnight and the other actress still has a long week ahead of her. It seems like the events of the day catch up to her cause you feel a head slipping on your shoulder; distracting your focus halfway through Scream 3.

Jenna had fallen asleep with her head on your shoulder. You fight the urge to tense up not wanting to wake her up. She looked like she needed the rest and you relate more than anyone to her exhaustion. 

“Jenna…” You lightly tap, “You fell asleep, you need to go to bed.”

She grumbles, whining in her slumber. You feels your cheeks warm when she unconsciously moves to snuggle closer to you, throwing an arm over your waist.

Fuck.

Really?

God, I am not your strongest soldier. 

“Jen, seriously. Wake up.” You shake her arm.

“What?” She complains, her words muffled by your collarbone.

“You need to go to bed.”

The feeling of her soft lashes brushing against the material of your shirt as she blinks sends a shiver down your spine. “Oh…”

Jenna mumbles mortified. Quickly pushing herself off of you, unable to look you in the eyes. “Sorry.”

You don't mention how she might have punched your stomach and that you were desperately trying not to cough.

“S’okay…” You shake your head softly. You couldn't help but notice the way her hair fell over her eyes messily. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” She asks once she regains her senses, waking up from her short slumber.

Something tells Jenna she won’t be sleeping with how fast her heart is pounding; uncertain as to where her sudden anxiety is coming from. 

“Yeah… I’ll be waiting for you inside.” You stand gathering your belongings.

“Wait, you’re not walking the carpet with me?” Jenna pulled a face.

You raise a brow, “No? At least, I wasn't told I had to. They just said I had to show up.”

“Oh… okay.” She nods then sighed, long and profound.

You continue to raise a brow but don’t say anything. Not wanting to push her. You remember the last time you guys fought and are immediately turned off. No thanks, not trying to open that can of worms.

“Okay. Goodnight then.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” She leans against the door.

Her premiere is a success. After borderline shoving you inside a tinted Cadillac, Link brushes your vintage Prada gown down; making sure you are in tip-top movie-star shape. You don’t walk the carpet, instead heading straight inside – making headlines. 

Your every damn move is a headline these days.

Silently thanking whatever God was out there that you didn’t because the way your jaw dropped when you see Jenna was downright embarrassing. Your reaction would surely have been a running piece if cameras were around.

Your managers would love it though.

Link had to forcefully elbow your side as Jenna walks up to greet you. 

“Wow…” You manage to say. “You look stunning Jenna.”

Jenna was glad for the dim lights in the theatre, “Thanks.” She blushes, casting her eyes down.

“You look great too.” She scans you up and down, suddenly feeling warm under her gape. 

Maybe it was the way her makeup is done or the deconstructed tuxedo for a dress that she had on tonight but she looked more mature, intimidating? Like she could throw you around a little and you’d just gladly ask her to do it again.

Wait, what?

“Thanks… Link and I should head to our seats but I just wanted to congratulate you. This is seriously amazing.” You express sincerely.

Jenna flushes more, waving you off with a huff and a lazy hand. “Please.”

“Seriously!”

Link coughs loudly, interrupting the bubble you and Jenna found yourselves in. “Okay, someone’s a little impatient. We better go.”

A hand reaches out, grabbing you. “Do you wanna, maybe, I don’t know. Sit beside me?”

You turn, surprised. “Oh? What about Enrique?” You glance at her stylist standing just behind her pretending like he wasn’t listening; fiddling on his phone. 

“I’m sure he won’t mind switching to sit with Link, right Enrique?” She turns, asking her friend.

He grins widely, “Nope. All good with me!”

“Perfect!” She smiles at you, still grabbing your arm. 

“We’ll be down there!” Jenna calls out to Link and Enrique linking your fingers out of nowhere as you walk to beside her costars.

You still don’t say anything when Jenna wraps herself around you when you make it to your seats, waving as people cheer with a large smile before pulling you to sit down. 

Only then did she pull herself away, “sorry about that.”

“All good.” You mumble after realizing what happened; turning to face the large screen.

Perfect photo op.

“Hey is that sharpie on your dress?”

“Yes.” She sighs.

The rest of the night goes off without a hitch but you can’t stop the growing unpleasantness in your chest. You decide to brush it off and save face for Jenna’s night. Your sulking and feelings can wait in the privacy of your own four walls and definitely not at a high-profile movie premiere.

By the time you found yourself at the NBC building in a random dressing room at the SNL studio, waiting for Jenna’s monologue you forget all about it. You lay lazily on a stiff and most likely old couch, scrolling through your phone. 

A knock on the door has you pulling off your headphones. “Come in.”

“Hey Y/N.” A head peaks in making you sit up briskly. “Aliyah, hey. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just uh– Jenna’s asking for you.” She sends a sheepish smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling.

“Oh,” Your head perks up. “Is she okay?” You question, following the smaller girl past hallways that all looked the same; trying not to bump into the various stagehands buzzing around. 

“Yeah, yeah, she’s kinda freaking out, though and… we can’t get her to calm down.” You both stop at a closed door. 

“Oh… why me?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“Uh… okay she didn’t exactly say you but I saw your episode and you were hilarious and who better to talk her down than someone who’s done it before.” She flashes a large grin before opening the door and shoving you inside.

The room is empty save for Jenna dressed in a short-legged suit. You force yourself to blink, reminding yourself that you are on a time crunch.

“Jenna.”

She snaps her head at your voice, and a noticeable tremble in her fingers is the first thing you see. “What–what are you doing here? I thought you’d be in your seat by now.”

“Your sister asked me to come.” You admit, walking forward.

“I’m fine. Go to your seat, I’ll see you after the show.” She turns her back to you, looking over sheets of paper with multi-coloured inked notes scribbled on every open space.

“Take a deep breath for me, Jenna.” You walk closer, slowly bringing the hand tightly clutching her notes down. The bones in her fingers relax as she drops the paper. She doesn’t say anything when you don’t disconnect your hands. 

You find yourself standing much closer to her.

“Take a deep breath.” You repeat.

Jenna closes her eyes, inhaling a long, deep and audible breath in then out. She clutches your fingers as she does so, unconsciously leaning back against you to ground her bubbling anxiety. 

She stays in your hold with her back against your chest: a death grip on your fingers. Your swipe a thumb over the skin of her hand. “It’ll be okay…”

“Thanks…” Jenna looks into your eyes, taking one last deep breath.

Briefly, you hold her gaze feeling tepid under the intense look in her eyes. You can’t tell what they're saying but for some reason, the way her dark pupils seemed softer under the fluorescent lights had you under a spell.

And for a fleeting second, you thought she was leaning in closer to you — eyes flickering to your lips.

“Don’t mention it.” You drop her hand immediately, taking wide steps back.

Not liking the way her eyes flickered down.

You don’t like what that could possibly mean.

Jenna’s turning rapidly, pretending not to notice as you take sizable steps away from her. “What did my sister say?”

You laugh, shoving your hands in your jacket. “That she liked my SNL episode and thought someone who’s done it before can talk you down.”

“Talk me down?” She scrunches her nose.

“Don’t shoot the messenger.” You shrug.

“Your episode was okay.” Jenna turns away to face a mirror, brushing away her bangs.

You take the bait, glad she wasn’t trembling anymore. “Okay? I got the whole cast to break, it’s considered a classic. It was nominated for an Emmy that year.”

“It didn’t win though.”

You scoff playfully, “I’m leaving. You clearly don’t need my help anymore.”

She laughs obnoxiously as you stomp out of her dressing room. “Wait.”

You stop just before you open the door. “Yeah?”

“Thank you… for talking me down.” She tucks a hair backs, a little shy.

The small smile creeping on your face is hard to subdue. “Don’t mention it. Now, go. You’re gonna kill it.” You wink, exiting the dressing room.

“She’s all good.” You tell her team.

“That’s it? She hasn’t calmed down all day, it takes you – what, five minutes?” Enrique crosses his arms. Jenna’s mom smirks, patting his back then walked past him and into the room as the rest of her family slowly trickled in; her sisters staring at you intensely.

“Uh sorry?” You blush furiously, walking off in the other direction to find your seat.

Jenna kills it, but that was never a surprise. You can tell she’s nervous throughout her monologue but after Fred Armisen does his bit – from beside you, which had been a pleasant surprise. She begins to grow confident, feeling pleased with your embarrassment when the camera pans to you and Fred.

You’d get her back for that. Making a mental note to cook up a special revenge plan, just for her.

Eventually, she falls into the role naturally. Nailing her punchlines perfectly, working the crowd like an expert, and exquisitely performing her skits. It’s a shock to you when you overhear someone behind you say she’s never done live stage work before.

She's so natural at it.

It's a privilege to watch her perform.

You nearly die when she changes into a red suit as she introduces the musical guest of the night.

Actually, you begin to slide off your seat when she comes out in a pinstripe suit — a reference to the Addams family you overheard in passing.

When credits roll and the ‘LIVE’ sign turns off. You remain in your seat. Unsure if you are just admiring her or if it’s ‘cause your legs no longer functioned. You can’t fight that admiration as it grows when you see how supportive her family is as they cheer her on and celebrate this win as one unit. 

You smile, wishing you can relate. At least some people had that in their lives.

A part of you thinks it makes the whole world’s difference, having a support system like that. But you would never know.

Silently, you slip out the stage doors and back to the random dressing room you’ve decided to take refuge in. 

You narrowly miss Jenna trying to find you through the masses; her smile dropping a bit when she realizes you’re gone.

– 

You don’t get a chance to personally congratulate Jenna because Link was bursting into the dressing room — after complaining about trying to find you for ten minutes. Rambling on how you’re needed back in Los Angeles and there was no time to say goodbye.

When you catch the other actress it’s by pure stroke of luck. You're going through checkout at the hotel, waiting for Link to do all the work as you wait behind him. 

You feel slightly guilty that you're just leaving without warning.

You should send Jenna a text, right? But would she even care if you left so suddenly? She did want you out of the city just a few days ago.

But then, you two literally just, might’ve, maybe, almost kissed/shared a moment in her dressing room, so who knows what you should do at this point.

You feel a migraine forming at the base of your skull, the longer you thought about the other actress.

“Y/N?” A voice breaks your self-deprecating thoughts. You turn to see Jenna with her team and family trailing beside her.

Jenna’s smile falls when she sees your bags. Her family walks ahead but you certainly don’t miss their curious eyes as she stops in front of you.

“Where are you going?” Her eyes keep flickering between you and your bags.

Link avoids her sharp, accusing eyes.

“Back to L.A. sorry I was just about to send you a text, actually.” You confessed, a little ashamed. 

It felt like you got caught doing something you shouldn’t be doing… like when you lie to your long-time partner about the real reason why you want some time apart.

“A text?” She raises an unamused brow not liking your answer.

“Yeah, Jake wants me back in L.A. Uh– sorry, was I supposed to tell you?” You ask, a bit confused.

“Tell me?” She scoffs, face dropping. “Yeah, you’re supposed to tell me. I was going to invite you to dinner to celebrate with my family and the SNL cast tonight. But you weren’t even in the audience anymore by the time I finished.”

“Sorry… I thought you’d want to celebrate with your family.” You shrug lamely, torn between feeling guilty and confused at her reaction to the news of your sudden departure.

She made it feel like you were trying to escape.

“Well, I thought–” 

She cuts herself off with a huff then looked back as her family waits for her by the elevator.

“Thought what?”

As if remembering she was still out in a very public setting, after hosting one of the most recognizable programs in America; Jenna blinks out of it. Shoving her feelings down.

“Nothing. Have a safe flight back to L.A. I’ll see you in a few days… or weeks” She mumbles with an edginess to her words, walking away before you can say anything else.

“Tough break, buddy.” Link pats a comforting hand on your shoulder as you were rendered speechless. Unsure if you should chase her down and apologize.

Damn can she walk fast in those heels.

But, why would you be apologizing for having to do your job?

But the way her brow creased like she was actually upset caused an unpleasant drop in your chest. Not enjoying how she was upset and that it seemed like it was all your fault. You? Nah. Maybe she’s still dealing with other stuff and is just taking it out on you. 

It wouldn’t be the first time.

“What. Just. Happened.” You turn, aggressively snatching your card from the hotel worker who definitely enjoyed the show.

“Are you blind?” He scoffs then walks away from you.

“What do you mean? Link… what do you mean?” 

-

taglist is closed (if your @ can't be tagged it will be removed, DM me to fix it.)

:)

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[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: Just some HC's about what aftercare might be like with some of the boys (don't @ me, they're FICTIONAL, first of all. And go read my pinned post -> everyone is at least 18, but I imagine them 25 or older. Just a friendly reminder! Thanks!)

I have some more ideas lined up for a 2nd part//or whatever but I'm not gonna do them if this doesn't fall into the laps of people who really enjoy it. Y'all know what I'm talking about.

C/W ::: Hanma/Chifuyu/Baji/Kisaki/Kazutora/Draken x F.reader, talk of sex, and things that go along with it. Hair pulling, dirty talk (not in detail really) ... if anything wasn't listed and you just know it should be (like the world will end if I don't include it), let me know!

WC ::: 1,289 (I can't stop. And no, I'm not sorry.)

PART 2

Ⓗanma ::: He would kiss all the red, splotchy spots he made on your body. Rubbing your bum to soothe the burn of where his hand came down so hard, so many times. You'd be laying there totally enjoying the sweetness that he's giving you until you feel his cock press into your hip. You look at him with that quirked brow, narrowed eyes, and smirk on your lips, just daring him to push you for "one more". Hanma has his hands out in front of him, almost like he's defending himself against the look on your face. "I - promise. I promise to be more gentle this time." He leans down to kiss your tits and take a bright and swollen nipple into his mouth, sucking gently and trying to convince you that he will, in fact, go easier on you this time. "YOLO, hana. C'mon." He runs his fingers over your still soaked cunt. "You're a real bastard, y'know that, Shu? Fine. But this time, I'm beating your ass."

((*Hana -> Blossom in Japanese))

Ⓒhifuyu ::: He's going to have whatever you could need or want already at his place. Obviously, you have what you need at your place. But sometimes you're not home. So it's nice to have him prepared. He'd have stuff for you to take a nice bath after he wrecked you. There would be a pretty, mirrored tray in his bathroom with a variety of essential oils and little vials of bath salts for his baby to use at her leisure. Chifuyu would low-key do some research on which oils did what. Peppermint was uplifting and good for headaches. Lavender was good to calm your mind and ease muscle aches. He would be the kind of guy to pull your hair while he's fucking you from behind telling you "Turn ... turn your head so I can see how fuckin' beautiful you look while you're takin' this cock. Fuckin' love you so ... fuckin' ... much, angel. Make me feel so good. 'M I makin' you feel good, too? Yeah? Fuck yeah, want you to cum all over me with that gorgeous pussy of yours."

Ⓑaji ::: He is the wildcard and the surprising one when it comes to aftercare. Sometimes 97.9% of the time, his aftercare evolves into more sex. Whether it's oral (he likes to lick up the cummy mess from your puffy little pussy - and moan a little about it - which fuckin' only turns you on more so it's partially your fault that you guys fuck again when he was planning on taking care of you ... just in a different way). He loves you, though. He loves the pink glow of your cheeks (face and ass - and it doesn't matter if you're fair-skinned or a darker tone - dude WILL make sure he changes the natural hue of your flesh). Baji enjoys seeing his large handprint on your ass and thighs. Also will kiss at all the bite marks he's left on your body - your whole body. There is no discrimination when he sinks his teeth into you. Man will just kind of let his heart guide him and he'll bite wherever his mouth lands. He does a bunch of little things for you: He'll bring you your favorite drink (which he learned right away), he will order takeout if you're hungry (he knows what to get), he lays with you and holds you close to him if it was a particularly rough and raunchy romp. Secretly enjoys the closeness almost more than you do.

Ⓚisaki ::: Is a dumbass ... at first. The first time you guys fucked he hopped up and took a shower. Liiiiike, no, dude. Wrong. Answer. Asshat. He's pissed that Hanma told him that he was an absolute idiot for doing that. Like, how did that shit ass know more than him!? However, once Kisaki is made aware of what is expected (but NOT expected, however, much appreciated), he is almost a changed man. After a slow and close afternoon rendezvous at his place, you're both laying there, basking in the afterglow. He stays in bed with you for a while and kisses your cheek, rubs your hip with the palm of his freakishly warm hand, giving you a squeeze occasionally. "You uh, *aheh*, can I get you anything, ningyō? Water, tea? Are you hungry? Anything you want." He smiles at you nervously, trying to recall what Hanma instructed him to say. "No, Kisa', I think right now I just want you to be here with me. Is that ok? Will you stay?" He nods his head, "Of course. But I still want to shower." You roll your eyes but appreciate the time he's sharing with you anyway.

((*Ningyō -> Doll in Japanese))

Ⓚazutora ::: Seems to think that aftercare = afterplay 🔁 foreplay. It's not such farfetched logic. But you love how fucking sweet on you he is. He kisses all over your body; your neck is his favorite place to kiss you when you're in the kitchen working together toward the level of aftercare you both deserve. He'll stand behind you and run his hands all over the expanse of your hips, back, waist, chest. Then he'll start salivating a little heavier at the thought of sucking on your nipples. How hard and squishy (HOW THOUGH) they are between his lips. Kazutora will dip down under your arm and stand between you and the counter as you're cutting up something and start kissing you - quite heavily. And you don't mind, but you're still kind of wiped out from the hour and a half you two just spent in bed. But his big, curious eyes just have this effect on you and you stretch out your neck when he starts to nuzzle his nose in there and whisper how much he wants to go down on you again make sure that pretty little pussy isn't still sore. He wants to give you a "massage" to ease any discomfort. "You won't have to lift a finger - un-unless you want to, momo. Please?" He will just pick you up and carry your ass back to the room and take his sweet, sweet time with you. AGAIN.

((*Momo -> Peach in Japanese))

Ⓓraken ::: D-R-A-K-E-N *sighs dreamily*. This big fool. The things you do to/for each other are out of this world. Your bodies were made for one another. Period. Not only does he have you down to a science while he's fucking you, his aftercare is top notch. Draken is the kind of guy who will pull your hair so your ears are closer to him and he'll whisper the filthiest and most nasty shit to you. He's also the kind of guy who will hold your hand to the shower (once you're able to walk again) and wash your hair to ease any residual burning on your scalp. He'll gently brush it out while you sit at your vanity in the bathroom and bend over to whisper incredibly sweet things to you. He's not trying to cancel all the things he did to you (for you??) but he likes there to be a balance. He doesn't want things to get too off kilter. So expect an equal or greater reaction from him in the aftercare routine. Draken will also pay attention to small cues from you and if you ever seem bothered by anything - he doesn't care how small or stupid you might think it is - he always gets you to tell him. So don't waste time. Just fucking tell him so he can go back to being the best boyfriend to you.

Taglist ::: @kazutora-kurokawa @katkitkats @arlerts-angel @viburnt @darkstarlight82

[meieis]

Afraid of losing you, Lute x Reader

My note: I know, I already have a fiction series (I didn't know what to say...) but this was bothering me too much. Anyway, I'm working hard on Seraphim yn x lute, but for two days I could only write the introduction, finally, I started this and... It was good!

Synopsis: You are the right-hand, Lute's subordinate and new lieutenant, Lute became the commander of the exorcist angels after Adam's death. After the war in which she lost Adam, she is afraid that if heaven goes to war with Hell again, she think she lose you.

Warning(?): Swearing, nothing else.

It was hard being lieutenant. Especially after losing the war with Hell, this was harder because Lute lost her arm and Adam as a bonus, Even so, she could still do the same, she did before, but that doesn't change the fact that you were appointed the new lieutenant just as Lute was the old lieutenant.

At first Lute seems cold, harsh and rude, and sometimes she even intimidates the winners. Ironically, your personality is no different from her, maybe you're a little more disrespectful? (to those other than Lute and kind to lute) Being Lute's right hand or her left hand, since she lost her left arm, she needs someone there for her left arm... probably..., ahem ahem. Anyway, it was difficult to be Lute's right hand or her employee, kind of a heavy workload.

Lute continued to train exorcist angels with one arm, a testament to her ability to do all the work with one hand. You, her subordinate and new lieutenant, were always by her side. You helped her with everything. Lute gave you the toughest job. From the outside, it might seem like Lute was just using her subordinate, the new lieutenant, you, but it was actually a show of trust on Lute's part, because Lute never trusted a other angel enough to give they a job or paperwork.

Lute had a rough day today. “Y/N go and buy me a coffee, quick” she sat down at her desk tiredly and rubbed her hand against her temple. She ordered sternly. "Okay sir. I'm buy it from your usually coffee shop and usually coffee, right?" Lute frowned at the question, "Yes! I didn't tell you the name of the coffee to buy, so hurry up and buy usually coffee!" She said angrily, and sighed angrily "Okay, Sir" you quickly left the office and went to get coffee, Lute sighed again and thought about her conversation with Sera

"because of you!" Sera said sternly. Lute frowned but remained silent. “You have trampled the name of Heaven! You have been defeated by a few useless ones in Hell!” Lute said nothing again. Sera scolded her for a while, blaming her for the war that happened. Sera just... kind of mocked her, but Lute couldn't say anything. All she did was clench her fist as Sera scolded her.

Her thoughts were interrupted when you opened the door, "Sir?" You said as you walked in, as if asking if she was there. “here.” Lute said briefly and firmly and you walked in and handed her the coffee. “Sera, I had a meeting with him today or something” You looked at Lute “Did you have a meeting with him today?” This question caused Lute to shout angrily, "Of course not!" She sighed angrily and leaned back in her chair.

"Fuck... That fuking bitch, all she does is cause trouble for us. As if she wasn't the one who gave us those guns and ordered these exorcists thing" she said angrily and continued "She blamed me for not being able to protect Adam, where was she at the time? She was in a good mood! She didn't come to help, she didn't even care about the people who died!" Finally, she growled angrily and stopped talking and drink her coffee.

"Sir, it wasn't your fault..." Lute rolled her eyes "I know, everyone says the same." You looked at her at Lute's words "but it's real, sera is just looking for someone to blame. She would never blame herself" she preferred to drink the coffee and didn't say anything, finally she handed you the empty coffee cup.

"You're right." She handed you the empty coffee cup "Here. Take this, go outside and throw it in the trash" You gave her an exasperated look at Lute's expressive command as she were giving an order to a dog, but she ignored your look and continued to hand you the empty coffee cup.

You took the coffee cup to throw it away and went out and Lute was lost in thought when she was left alone, Sera was right... She could have saved him if she had noticed that one-eyed little Maid... Although it was too late now, probably if Adam were here right now... He mocked of her for being sad. Lute knows she shouldn't blame herself, but still... She can't help it. She feels her eyes starting to fill with tears, when you opened the door and her gaze turned to you “Y/N come here.” you obeyed the command and Lute instantly wrapped her arms around you, (if you were shorter than her) she slouched and buried her face in your chest because you were shorter than her, (if you were taller than her) you had to slouch because of her movement because Lute had her face buried in your chest, it seemed like she had no stop hug.

You don't remember how long you and Lute stayed like that, at least once, Lute's the emotion wore off you and Lute continued day normally. At first you thought you were crying for Adam, but in reality... Maybe if the order came to kill the sinners in hell again, she might lost you at that time. She can't cheat a second loss.

extra :

On the way home she thought, if she loses you it will only get worse. That's why she will keep her distance from you, that is, she will treat you coldly. She made her decision. Her only hope is not to lose you and for you to be okay. Maybe she doesn't know why she got so attached or like to you, maybe she needed someone to stand by her after Adam's death? Despite everything, there's only one thing she knows and that's that she wants you to live.

[kimbapisnotsushi]

ojiro aran headcanons bc @luminouschaotic asked me if i had thoughts (which was. a while back) but i'm out of town for two weeks in a couple days and won't be on much so i wanted to get this done before then so LET'S GO!!

aran has like spidey-sense Chaos Instincts™️ honed by years of taking care of the miyas so much so that on his first day at inarizaki he feels a tingle down his spine and turns around just in time to catch akagi michinari falling out of a tree

aran, being the kind soul that he is, goes over to help. because if there's anything the miyas have taught him it's that if you don't intervene early on there WILL be even more severe consequences down the line than if you'd just helped them in the first place

it basically goes "hi i'm ojiro what do you need me to do and how much plausible deniability can i get from this"

don't worry akagi had just been get a paper airplane bc he might be a little shit but he's a little shit with morals who cares about the environment

he didn't get the airplane the branch broke before he could

akagi tells aran that he's going to try one more time and asks aran to stand under the tree so that aran can catch him if he falls again and aran's dreading the day akagi and the twins will finally meet

i actually think it WOULD be funny if kita and akagi had been childhood friends or something previously bc a) SOMEONE had to have been akagi's handle before high school and b) it just makes sense in my head

also i think a fundamental aspect of the shiratorizawa and inarizaki rivalry that we're overlooking is reon and aran bonding

like. they get it. they know what it's like. loving a place that does not always loves you back. having a home that does not always feel like a home. it can be hard, sometimes. but if there's one thing they agree on it's that their teams ALWAYS have their backs

(lev and liam my lovelies i have NOT forgotten about you)

also this just makes the whole "aran's irrational fear is tendou satori" a thousand times funnier

since it's established that aran references older pieces of media i like to think that means he sits down with like idk his grandparents probably and they watch all kinds of things together

sometimes the only other people who get aran's references are people who ALSO sit down and watch things with their grandparents (kuroo, kageyama, kita. . . )

the haikyuu club of good grandchildren . . .

anyways so that's how kita and aran become friends!!

oh my god . . . do you guys think his sister had those small kid puppy crushes on any of his friends . . . .

my vote is akagi or the miyas do you know how funny that would be

i think a bit that akagi does with aran is saying "oh my god this is just like [insert fictional media here]" when something (usually an Event™️ involving the miyas) happens and aran going "STOP SAYING THIS IS JUST LIKE [??] AND HELP ME"

when the third years graduate aran gives gin a gift and tells him not to open it until he gets home

when gin does open it he finds a booklet titled "how to survive the miyas: a comprehensive guide by ojiro aran" and it's at least a hundred pages long

the first page is an emergency contact list with the numbers of the miyas' parents, aran's parents, and every hospital/clinic within a fifteen-mile radius

definitely prefers a real newspaper to a digital one

i think the whole of the inarizaki third years are tech-averse tbh if you took them to one of those restaurants with the little robot servers with screens for faces they'd slow blink at it like really confused cats

this sucks especially for suna bc every time he gives his phone to one of them when he wants pictures of himself with someone or something they always come out blurry or too much exposure or some shit

i think aran and oomimi go hiking with each other on the weekends and are always pestering everyone else to go with them

they win when they promise everyone, yes, we can go out for brunch and boba after

(do the twins fall into a stream while trying to cross it? yes. did they still go to brunch afterwards, sopping wet? also yes. aran doesn't think he's ever laughed harder in his life.)

[apple-spider-vinegar]

Something I feel often goes unrecognized in discussion of Harry Osborn is the fact that he is the Only Child of a Single Parent.

In my experience/observation (both real and fictional) the only child/single parent bond is so inexorable it's hard to fully comprehend. Few other things will bind two people together in such a way.

Like many familial relationships, it's full of a thousand little hurts that will probably never get brought up again. Sometimes you let the relationship go by the wayside in pursuit of your own life goals because you take it for granted that family will always be around. But there's a unique flavor to it.

Deep down inside you there's an awareness that it's Just The Two Of You. For the child, it may have been just the two of you from your very earliest memories. Sure, you know other people. There are extended family and friends and maybe the parent has a romantic partner or two. But at the end of the day, in your home, in your hearts (something you carry with you no matter where you go) the two of you are all you have and all you feel you can really depend on.

A world in which the two of you aren't together is almost impossible to picture and you don't want to try, even in the moments you wish you could just get away from each other. Being an only child separated from a single parent for the first time ‐ even on normal and amicable terms like when you move out on your own - makes you realize, again and again, how many ways your parent has influenced you. The things you say that you heard from them first, the habits, the opinions. You love them, but sometimes it feels like they still... OWN you, even though you are your own person. Sometimes that frightens you, but the alternative is even more frightening.

Like all love, it'll make you behave selfishly and irrationally at times.

And it'll really make you DEFENSIVE.

If you're Harry Osborn and complain a bit about your dad being a dickhead while deep down wondering if he really even cares about you, that's one thing. But if anyone says a word against him in your presence you have to backtrack. You have to argue in his defense because he's all you have and you're all he has. Loss would unbearable.

Look, guys. It has been years since Harry and Norman Osborn have gotten along or been able to really enjoy each other's company, if they ever could. But if anything happened to the other they would kill everyone in this room and then themselves, do you understand what I'm saying?

[the-almighty-god]

Dear God, I desperately need your help.

I'm not feeling myself. That's the long story short.

I can't feel my legs and my head, and it feels so lightweight. It's almost as if I'm going to faint or my soul flying away.

This used to happen to me before, but only when I'm crossing roads(??) And now, it's happening all of the time. I wake up, and the next thing I know is that I'm this close to blacking out. Also, my energy levels are fluctuating like hell! And so are my moods. I'm constantly thinking, getting distracted, having trouble focusing, and I can't get my job done! I feel so old in my young body. I'm feeling like a 13 year old and yet like a 32 year old person. I look at myself and go, "Wait! That's me. Why do i look like this? It's weird. I'm not supposed to be this girl." And this is so much for a 15 year old (almost 16) me. I should be just stressing about my studies, not anything else!

Why am I like this? I pray that I'll be well soon, but it's so hard. I've tried talking to my parents. I always try, but they just dismiss it outright, or sometimes they interrupt and start venting about themselves.

(I'm asking for help, I'm practically screaming, but no one hears it or cares to help. Why am I so alone? What did I do to deserve this?)

Also! Here's your whale! 🐋

I hope you're having a good time in your place!😊😊

I hear you. You did nothing to deserve this. You are not alone.

You're (almost) sixteen.

Teenage years are difficult and confusing for everyone. I'm not saying that to dismiss or belittle what you're going through. Quite the opposite actually. I'm saying that so you know that there isn't anything wrong with you.

It sounds to me like you're experiencing anxiety, and perhaps a bit of disassociation, too. And there still isn't anything wrong with you.

The world is scary, especially right now, and so anxiety is natural. That doesn't mean it can't be managed.

Although I'm God, not a doctor, so you'll need a trained professional for an actual diagnosis, as well as to help you find a treatment that works for you.

These feelings that you've having will never fully go away. In fact, when you're thirty-two, you--or at least part of you--will still feel like you're sixteen.

You don't feel yourself at the moment because right now you're still figuring out who yourself is. And the older you get the more yourself you'll become.

The new parts of you that you discover. The new parts of you that you create. The parts of you that were there all along. Some of them hiding, that you're now ready to show. Some that you never hid. The influences from others, real and fictional. The growth from experiences, good and bad.

You'll never fully figure out who you are, because you'll always be growing and changing. But you will develop a stronger sense of you and from then on, you'll just be refining it.

I'm sorry that your parents are dismissing your legitimate concerns, some of which may need medical and psychological attention.

While I can't speak for them, I can speak for myself as a creator. I admit that when your child is struggling, it makes you feel like a failure, and so it can be easier to write it off as ungratefulness or childish complaining, or turn it around and it make it all about yourself and your suffering.

Part of growing up is realizing that your parents are human. They have flaws, and they also have traumas. They're not perfect, and can't be expected to be. Another part of growing up is forgiving them for this--if they deserve it. Not all parents do.

Likewise, parents also must realize that their children are human. Their own people, independent beings separate from the parents. And sometimes what your children go through actually isn't your fault (regardless of whether your child is blaming you in the moment), but rather just part of the general struggle of human existence, and actually has nothing at all to do with you.

This revelation can be jarring. You go from your child depending on you for their every need to them no longer needing you. Or at least not for the things that were simple to take care of, like meals and diaper changes, but now needing you to guide them through the more complex problems of life, without solving the problems for your child--if they even can be solved.

Not all of them can. And that's a lesson that is as painful to watch your child go through as it is to go through it yourself when you were their age.

It's a difficult transition for everyone involved. It's your first time as a teenager, and perhaps their first time as parents of a teenager. All of you are going to make mistakes. (It's still on your parents to be the adults, though, because you're still a child.)

Now all of that was more explanation than advice. So here is my advice:

To address your lightheadedness, almost blackouts, and lack of feeling in your limbs, the first step is to make sure you are drinking enough water, eating enough food (especially food that will give you the nutrients and electrolytes your body needs), and getting enough sleep. Lack of sleep, low blood sugar, and not enough electrolytes can contribute to low energy levels.

Exercise is also something that can help with sleep and energy, as well as with stress and anxiety. A 15-20 minute walk or jog, preferably outdoors in nature, can be beneficial for mental and physical health. If you can do this safely, I'd recommend it. (If you feel there is a chance you might faint, don't go alone.)

Of course, you can do all of the above perfectly and still have issues, but it's somewhere to start because you have to start somewhere. Both to rule these out as the cause of the symptoms, and because they do help, even if they don't fix everything.

If the symptoms persist, talk to a doctor (both medical and psychological) if one is available to you. Unfortunately, because you're young and you're female, there's a chance they may dismiss your symptoms at first. It isn't fair, but you might have push to get help. It's scary thing to do, but it's necessary. I know you can do it.

I hope this has been helpful to you.

Keep surviving.

Oh, and thanks for the whale.

[muertawrites]

Ok I totally agree with what you’re saying about Eddie not going for a cheerleader type and liking alt girls BUT I love the idea of reader being this quiet unassuming nerdy girl (think Nancy and Barb in season 1) but really she’s like this secret metal head/punk who hides Metallica tapes in Madonna packaging and has notebooks full of tattoo ideas doodled next to alternating class notes and song lyrics. And she just like admires Eddie from a distance because he’s so genuinely real and she hides behind who everyone else thinks she is

…I might be projecting a bit…

oooh no i can see that! (who cares if you're projecting that's what fiction is for ask charlotte brontë)

and like

maybe he doesn't really notice you at first. you keep a low profile as a means of survival since hawkins is brutal, but he runs into you sometimes and has always found you pretty.

he caught you looking at a Black Sabbath cassette when he saw you at the record store once. since then he's watched you out of the corner of his eye, trying to figure you out. you fascinate him.

and much like nancy you're a badass in disguise (tho a lot less bitchy sorry nance)

so one night as you're leaving the convenience store after picking up some midnight munchies (now i'm projecting i'm always at wawa at like 1am bc i want chips or smth) you notice eddie's van in the parking lot.

and it looks like the deal he's trying to make isn't going well, bc the guy he's talking to looks pissed. off.

you're getting into your car when the guy's fist collides with eddie's cheek.

thankfully tho you're unlikely friends with steve harrington, and that man's protective af.

so he bought you a baseball bat that you keep in your trunk.

"hey, asswipe!"

you smack the guy super hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

and eddie moves fast. he takes the couple moments the guy's incapacitated and just grabs you, hauling you into the passenger seat of his van and stepping on the gas.

he pulls over to the side of the road once you're far enough away and you both just laugh, shaking with adrenaline.

"that was fuckin' amazing," eddie says. his cheek is split open and he's got the beginnings of a black eye, but he's smiling like a little kid. "so that's why you're so quiet, huh? you're secretly a vigilante."

you laugh and raise a hand to brush some hair out of your face.

but eddie snatches your wrist, eyes wide as he turns it upward.

"is that... a tattoo?"

he traces the lines with his fingers. who is this girl? he thinks he's in love.

"so... you're super quiet, yeah? but by night you're a baseball bat wielding, sabbath listening, tattoo having badass. any other secrets you're hiding from the greater hawkins population?"

"i once backed into jason carver with my car. i told him it was an accident. it totally wasn't."

"marry me."

[philtstone]

22 (kisses on head) Sam Wilson & dealer's choice

its been 84 years & i finally finished writing this .... inspired by life events bc apparently thats how most of my fatws stories seem to work these days. also shoutout to @foolgobi65, my bestie and co-middle aged fictional man. miss u so much, praying that in 1 month i will be a 60 dollar flight away from u, etc etc

It takes Sam a few tries to make the call.

Okay, so maybe that's hypocritical of him. It's okay to reach out to people when you need 'em, Buck. I'm here if you need to talk about anything, B. You know avoiding the world won't make anything easier, man.

Yeah, yeah -- so Sam's sometimes a textbook example of do as I say, not as I do. His sister would be the first to remind him of this, loudly and annoyingly. Recently, Bucky's taken to agreeing with her -- loudly and annoyingly, after he's given Sam a mildly amused eyebrow at the liberal shortening of his already short nickname -- but it's hard to remember that, and the general cross bleeding of their lives over and across like veins, when he hasn't seen Bucky in a month and their texts have been few and far between.

Not for any nefarious reason or anything. Sam's just been busy. Sitting in interminable meetings with assholes. Getting asked inane leading questions about his stance on global politics. Trying to push through the legal work of actually getting clean water to multiple places in literal first world nations. Bull-fuckin’-shit, Sam thinks. There is perpetual grit behind his eyes. The urge to dangle senators by their ankles from the top of multi-story buildings is real. He and Bucky did that a couple times, in the early days, but then Rhodey got in trouble because of it, so they agreed to ease off for a bit. So now Sam hasn’t even got that as an outlet, and it’s on him to figure out this messed up world for everyone else 'cause for every person who seems to care to try it, there are hundreds more who couldn't give a shit. He needs a vacation. Or a reset. Something to remind him what being Captain America is really about.

And Bucky's -- well, he's definitely not retired, but Sam thinks he deserves some peace and quiet, after everything.

The phone rings a fifth time. It's two in the morning. Sam sits in the dark quiet of his hotel room and is about to swipe end call and just content himself with a short text hey man, how's it going? when suddenly the call connects.

Sam squints.

"Why am I looking at a weird corner of your ceiling?" he asks, before his tired brain can catch up to the possibility that maybe something is deeply, horribly wrong, and there are bad guys there, and their mutual worlds are about to end for the twentieth time.

Then Bucky's forehead pops up from behind the kitchen counter.

“Sam, hey,” he says, before Sam can question further. The phone camera shakes like it’s being propped up against something by a hasty hand, “Gimme a sec, I’m in the middle of something.”

The forehead disappears. Not in a normal way, like Bucky walking out of frame, but in a weird way, like Bucky dropping below the counter to the floor.

“C’mon, ya little twerp, slow down a second …”

“Uh …” Sam wets his lips. “Is now a bad time?”

“‘S fine!” calls his friend’s disembodied voice. “Talk, I’m listenin’.” There is a thump, and a small yowl, and a distinctively Bucky-flavoured grunt. 

Sam can see the edge of Bucky's stove behind him and slowly registers the warm kitchen lighting and mess of kitchen implements strewn ... everywhere.

"What ... exactly are you doing?"

"Wrangling," says Bucky. "How've you been?" 

Could be better should be Sam's honest response. Instead he blinks at the obvious noises of scuffle, the muffled thud of metal limb against laminate kitchen island, some plaintive meows, and ...

Squeaking?

Peep peep peep peep peep.

“Fuckin’ – Alpine!”

“I told you that cat’s possessed,” Sam says, for lack of anything else to contribute to the mystifying noises coming from his phone. 

“Aha!” yells Bucky. There is a particularly despondent screech, and the peeping ramps up in intensity. 

Three months ago they’d got caught trying to bust some superpowered underground fight club and spent two days stuck in some underground bunker under threat of fighting in said club. Could make big bucks, taking bets on Captain America and the Winter Soldier. Sam wishes those violence-mongering assholes could see the two of them now.

Bucky’s head reappears.

“She’s not possessed,” he says. Sam can’t exactly agree, when directly to Bucky’s left, the little white housecat he found in the dumpsters behind his apartment last February is doing her best to wage feral holy war against the impervious plates of his left hand, which has got her hovering four feet above the ground by the scruff of her neck. Bucky himself seems unbothered by the crazy feline trying to maul his hand, and in fact unbothered in general, despite his wild case of bedhead, hole-ridden pajama shirt and slightly faded underwear all captured in frame. His other hand, stretched all the way out in the other direction, is held tightly in a fist.

And it’s squeaking.

“Bucky,” Sam says slowly, “I get that you got this whole nonviolence thing goin’ on right now –” It’s been a new thing Bucky keeps bringing up in sardonic therapy speak, always raising his eyebrows to show that he’s the only one allowed in on the joke, as if Sam knows he hasn’t touched a gun in three years – “but is two am really the right time to stop your honest to God housecat from takin’ out a mouse in your kitchen?”

“Mouse?” Bucky says with a frown. Then he grins. “Aw, no, I found him in the elevator today. Dunno how he got there.” Then, with impossible gentleness, he brings his fist up to the blurry camera, so Sam can see the fuzzy yellow crown of a tiny, very squeaky duckling.

Sam stares.

“That’s a duck,” he says.

“Duck-ling,” Bucky corrects. “He’s kind of helpless. Kept falling over on its own ass ‘til I brought him up. I think he was in shock.”

Peep, says the little duckling, as if agreeing. Or maybe as if to say, And then you exposed me to your psycho cat, asshole, you don’t think that was traumatizing? 

Maybe Bucky speaks duck better than Sam does, because he only grins, widely, and then proceeds to press a small kiss to the top of the duckling’s head.

Sam feels like he must be dreaming.

“You adopted a duckling?” he manages.

“Not officially,” Bucky protests.

“You can’t just adopt a duckling in Brooklyn.”

“I got a bathtub!”

“You got a shower cubicle, man.”

“Okay, fine, I got a sink.”

“Dude, you can’t rehome a duck in your tiny ass sink.”

“He hasn’t got anywhere else to go, Sam, he’s just a baby.”

Sam gestures in mild distress to the cat, who is still trying desperately to escape her vibranium bonds. “Is this not considered a barrier to duck adoption?!” he says.

Bucky sighs, the kind that slumps your shoulders up and down. He holds Alpine up to his face, sternly. She is midway through attempting to chew his wrist with her pointy little cat teeth. 

“You got wax in your ears? Knock it off, Sweets. Whaddaya want, more attention? You want a kiss on the forehead, too?”

“I do not get paid enough for this,” Sam says, putting his head in his hands and staring across the room.

Peep peep peep agrees the duckling.

“Look,” Bucky says, gesturing with his duckling hand. “I’ll think of something.”

“Something stupid,” says Sam.

Bucky doesn’t seem bothered, though. “So what’d you wanna talk to me about?” he asks.

Sam pauses. He’s got to think about it now. In fact – the edge of need that had been present just four minutes ago has mostly disappeared. He takes in Bucky’s disheveled appearance again. 

“You still goin’ down next weekend?”

It is a long weekend. Thanksgiving, to be precise. Sam has spent many a Thanksgiving dreaming of his sister’s cooking; he’s not sure he has the mental fortitude to skip out on it this year, when nothing world-ending is happening.

Bucky gives him a weird look. “Sure. Are you?”

“Delacroix’s still doin’ its food drive, right?”

“Sure,” says Bucky again. He scratches an itch behind his ear with the watch strap around his right wrist. The duckling squeaks. “Maybe you should go.”

“Maybe I should,” Sam says. He doesn’t feel relief, exactly, but there is a cousin feeling, somewhere in his chest, that he does not have words for at two a.m., “to make sure you won’t be pullin’ lame moves on my little sister.”

“You wouldn’t know a move if it danced naked in front of you, Sam,” Bucky says, without missing a beat. Alpine, who has been quiet since threatened, makes a sudden, aborted move towards Bucky’s right hand. Smoothly, behind the counter, Bucky takes a couple steps back and opens the empty garbage can with his bare foot before dropping Alpine into it. “Behave,” he tells her muffled protests. 

“I know so many moves. I am super smooth with the ladies. And your pasty ass better not be doing any naked dancing, or we’ll have words.”

Bucky lets out a very long-suffering sigh. “Just because Ms. Gloria next door likes me best …”

“She makes a mean sweet potato pie every Thanksgiving,” Sam agrees sadly. “I used to get that extra piece, you know?”

“I can’t say no when Sarah invites me, Sam, come on.”

“So she inviting you now, is that how this works? She doesn’t invite me.”

“That’s ‘cause you invite yourself. Or she bullies you into coming home.”

Both of these things being true, they are both laughing before Sam knows it. He is decidedly less exhausted than before. Tired, sleepy, sure, but not exhausted. Bucky has now moved on to cleaning up his kitchen one-handedly, which he’s gotten pretty good at recently. Bucky himself counts it as progress, and so does everyone else. 

Sam catches his breath. “Yeah, alright,” he says. “I should get some rest, then.”

He gets subjected to a long look through the camera. “See you next weekend?” Bucky says finally.

And maybe that was the exact question Sam had been itching to ask. It’s been a long while since he’s had a friend that’s basically family. It hits different. Sam’s happy to get used to it again, bit by bit.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. I don’t think I can tell you all the shit I’ve been dealing with unless we’re out in the middle of nowhere.”

Bucky narrows his eyes. “For security reasons or Sam-telling-a-story reasons?”

“Man, I can tell a story over the phone.”

“Yeah, but you like having the ambiance. Brings the best out in you.”

“Fishing and stories just mix right.”

“Whatever you say, Sam.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, maybe you can bring that little fluff ball with you. Can you imagine takin’ that thing through airport security?”

Except, oh no. Bucky’s eyes are widening with the sharp glimmer of a new, stupid idea.

“Huh,” he says, aloud. Peep peep, says the duckling. 

“You are not foisting that duckling on me,” Sam says.

“You do have a bird-themed costume. And Sarah’s house has a bathtub.”

But before Sam can open his mouth to argue, there is the loud crash of the garbage can tipping over, and the blurry white figure of Alpine pouncing onto Bucky’s head. 

“Shit! Alpine!”

Sam divines that he’s dropped the duckling.

“You know how long it took me to catch him?!”

Mroooow, howls Alpine, who is now on the counter, blocking most of the frame.

To the renewed sounds of frantic peeping from the kitchen floor, Sam laughs. “Dude,” he says, “you know your neighbors hate your ass right now.”

And it’s maybe fitting, that the last thing he sees before he ends the call is Bucky’s disembodied metal fist, flipping him the bird.

[bosskie]

Molluck Pixel Thing 2

Man, drawing this was yet another ride... I just felt like that I really gotta learn to draw in a more realistic way (= photorealism) in order to make my art look better. So, I wanted to try out drawing a realistic pixel portrait about Molluck. I had to adjust and edit this so many times that it almost triggered a mental breakdown... Just started to feel like I should quit art, hating myself for loving Molluck, just felt like hating my own creations, that I shouldn't even be a part of this community... That feeling made me cry, just felt so awful... Once, my mind made me unable to think about Molluck for a day, made him leave my mind... I just don't wish my mind to take him away from me, it would make me feel so empty...

I feel unsure about this but this has less flaws than the previous pixel Molluck thing, so I guess that it's time to change avatar too, even I feel like this doesn't look good as an avatar... I just keep feeling like there is always something wrong in my art but I'm not skilled enough to fix those flaws... Man, why must Molluck be so hard to draw... Been drawing for almost 3 years only this Gluk and still feel like I don't know how to draw him... Frankly, it depresses me but I'm trying not to give up even it comes to my mind almost every day. It felt like the only thing that made me stop me hating myself for loving Molluck was how much I do love him and how it would make him feel bad... Sometimes, I just think that why he would even love me or more like how he would start loving me since love needs no reasons... I haven't said this clearly but yes, I self-ship myself with Molluck and I wanna keep that stuff to myself, just like my NSFW Molluck stuff. I do have my own story for my self-ship, though I'm not totally sure about it, mostly just because I'm not sure how Molluck would have started to love me... It's just so difficult to see myself as someone to love, just anything lovable in me... But despite of this, thru him I'm able to have some self-love, tell myself that all the awful things I think about myself ain't true, that I shouldn't end this all...

I know that I should say that I'm sorry for having severe mental health issues but I still feel sorry... I just don't wanna pretend and Molluck just relates so closely to my mental health... It feels like I don't really feel like doing anything with my life but creating all this Molluck stuff is a pleasant way to waste/spend my time. I don't want any pity, just hope that my existence here doesn't ruin things, that I'm open about this long ass hell I'm going thru inside my head every single day... I'm just so tired... Feel like caring about things less and less...

I don't know how to end this post... This Gluk is just so important to me... It's interesting that our brains don't seem to care about if the one we love is 'real' or fictional. It's just not easy to find words for my thoughts but it just feels like my life would lost the last sense it makes to me if my mind took Molluck away from me... Also, sometimes, I just feel like everyone could draw Molluck better than me, just every single person in this world... I know, my ill mind can make me feel like irrational things are the truth, even I know that it's not the truth, but those lies still feel so real... But this feeling is just one of those reasons why I feel like quiting doing art, feeling like I could be easily replaced, nothing I draw is special, there is just no reasons to continue doing bad 'art' since I cannot draw in reality... I don't even really feel like calling myself an artist but a creator... But despite of these feelings, I still continue creating stuff since I just wanna create stuff, no matter how bad my stuff looks. I also just need more Molluck content... Frankly, I can admit that I'm kinda addicted to some of my Molluck content... Um, I guess that I can admit that all animations I have done about Molluck, both in 2D and in 3D (minus my Molluck game sprites), are NSFW content... I have been thinking about doing animations that I can also show but well, at least I have learned to get better in 3D animations, like I just found out camera stuff in Blender! I recently also felt like hating myself for spending so much effort on those animations... I just cannot help myself that all I want is that Gluk, my ill mind must just accept it.

I know that this can be odd but I cannot help this... This is my situation, this is what I love.

[blood-injections]

OKAY. Suitehearts Thoughts time. For my magnus archives danger days au. The first brainstorming post is here

One of thems a vampire. The shark toothed physically unable to speak tma kind. I was thinking Sandman but actually. Maybe Crab?? Because i always headcanon him mute and hard of hearing and Benzedrine like semi verbal and they communicate a lot with sign but the vampire thing is like. They send mental vibes through eye contact. Feelings and thoughts in a mindmeld. And i just think that fits them. Maybe he turns benz at some point and he becomes a vamp too. Sure the vampires whole purposes are like to like hunt humans sure but like whatever its fiction he can have human friends. Mostly human friends. Because the thing is the suitehearts in this are all Fucked up. Like they're juvie halls, they're in the underground, in the city, where the fears are. And sure better living sends all their monsters beyond the walls for the killjoys but like the desert is the other powers domain, the Witch and Destroya and whatever else i come up with. The fears are festering within the city, and especially in like the slums and the underground? They kind of run rampant, bli doesnt care, the peple there are seen as expendable, all future dracs. So the suitehearts face monsters and fears and shit, but it also means that those who are avatars of the entities, they're powerful within the city, where the entities are. So Sandman and Donnie, who i might be making avatars, have more powers than like, Cherri with the vast or Ghoul with the rot or something like i mentioned, since theyre way out in the desert, and not as connected.

Benzedrine- well I'm still thinking about it- but either hes an avatar, or his flavor of fucked up is like, he used to be a avatar. My main plan is that he survived a ritual and had like. A youngblood chronicles experience. So this would be like. A ybc/suitehearts/dager days/tma crossover 💀. So he's like still dealing with the aftermath of that. And suprise! Hes immensely fucked up by it. Maybe theres still traces of that power in him too, and sometimes his eyes flicker yellow.. (im so normal about this).

Donnie I'm not very sure on anything yet, if he'll be an avatar or not. If he is, maybe for the spiral? He just has the vibes.

Mr Sandman.. I think he'd be a good avatar for the end. With some power over or knowledge on death. Like the tma guy that could see the vines and knew how and roughly when everyone would die, at first he just saw it in dreams but then he started seeing the vines in real life too. Sandman has that power or like, the power to give someone a heart attack or something. I just know i want it to be freaky, and him to be really, really creepy.

[frownyalfred]

Hey, I’ve always loved your works, and I’m delighted to have found your tumblr!

(TL;DR: I really like the way you write relationships and I’m sorry you’re dealing with some shitty comments) Can I just say, I absolutely love the actions and characterizations of your latest mind-link fic? It’s just so raw and so real, and honestly, I absolutely love these types of fics where good people mess up and behave like assholes. Because we’re all human, we’re all people, and life and love and relationships are messy, messy things.

I don’t want cookie cutter perfect relationships, I want these 3D ones that shows that it’s okay that people fuck up. So many fanfics have a perfect protagonist (and I mean, more power to them, it’s their fanfic), but I personally *love* when the main character messes up and just- snaps at someone or is a little selfish. It just makes it so much more human and relatable. And it makes the fluff that comes after 10000% better because you know how much they care for each other, to make up and to work past issues because they think the other person is worth it.

Anyways, sorry for rambling at ya- I just wanted to express exactly how much I love your recent fic and my utter bafflement at the asshole comments. People are going to fuck up! It happens! And if you don’t want to read about that, that’s 100% fine! But stop yelling at the author, it’s not your fic! It’s theirs!

Thank you so much! I think you encapsulated the issue really well.

Don't get me wrong, I love reading fics where my blorbo is overpowered and can do no wrong and everyone else is in the wrong -- it's really fun and there's some awesome stories like that! It's fiction, and if that's how the author writes that character, I'm down.

I also like reading stories where it's grittier and complicated and closer to real life. I like both! The latter is hard to read constantly, because it's too much like real life to be an escape sometimes.

For borderline, I really wanted to dive into the complicated and awkward feelings that don't always make it into fics (for good reasons). Things like people in the bond feeling someone's else's arousal/other bodily functions, personal thoughts that are never shared out loud, instinctive reactions to things people can't control or even verbalize to themselves. Etc...

The reality is, even the best blorbo comes off poorly when we see their every thought, action, and memory in technicolor. People are complicated, and even genuinely good people rarely fall into that easy, good/not good binary every second of every day.

I think a lot of conflict in my comment section comes from discord over Tim and Damian (and to a lesser extent, Bruce) not being "perfect" or equally bad/good.

I've said it before, and I will reiterate it here: I appreciate the stories where Tim/Damian/etc are written as the victim, the wronged party, the protagonist, etc. I'm not knocking them here. But this isn't that kind of fic -- no one is right, here, or the sole protagonist/wronged party.

Tim isn't a bad guy any more than Damian is. Nor is Damian a better person or victim more so than Tim. Their situations are wildly different and so are their motivations/experiences. Hence why it's interesting (or at least, I think so) to see them involuntarily connected and at odds.

It's okay to disagree with my characterization! You don't have to read my fic. But I think taking a breath and Xing out is better than arguing with me/other readers in the comments about how your favorite character is being mis-written or treated.

[numericalbridge]

i made the blog to post writing, but this one thing has been my pet peeve since the KT aired, so i might just blabber about it. (the bold text is just there to make it easier for me to reread, i'm not yelling)

I really, really disagree with the interpritation that Darius surrendering for Eberwolf at DoU means that Darius was willing to sacrifice the whole isles for Eber and that it was an ultimately selfish act.

First, i thought it was quite clear that at the very moment Darius didn’t have time to think and consciously weight his options at all, he was in the middle of a fight. And i dont think this is unique to Darius, I doubt Eda and Lilith, for example, would’ve acted differently in his position. 

From the writing point, the moment is there to show that Darius does care about Eber, and to cement the point that he is not as cold and ruthless as he likes to pretend to be. (If going into fanon territory, it can be seen as him being terrified of losing other people he loves in general). His actions are not flawless, and there is definitely both irony and tragedy that he was put in the position where he had to surrender, but that also doesn’t automatically mean he is deliberately willing to sacrifice other people for his loved ones. And also it is a kids show, where a friendship moment like this does represent a positive thing.

Second, about what happened immediately after (and the way it is completely ignored was what irked me from the start) - at that point, when Darius had just surrendered, he still doesn’t know that Raine and Lilith and the rest of the rebels were caught! That would mean that he would assume there is still time while the other CHs need to bring in Raine’s replacement or find real Raine. And since it was shown that Katya and Derwin were disguised as scouts, it is probable that there was some plan B. That could even explain why Eda wasn’t trying to fight more - if the Bard Coven Head isn’t there, there is still hope. And once Raine is in the circle, it seems like no one could stop/physically escape the spell. (this part is also why i dont agree that Raine would have 100% kept fighting in Darius’s position, i think it would depend)

and somehow no one, hopefully, thinks that Raine was ultimately selfish for wanting to be there for Eda and the rest of them, even though it would be smarter for them to be far away so they couldn’t be captured.

Third, when Darius mutters “No, we’re too late” - the way it is worded makes more sense if it is about stopping the spell to save the whole isles, and that is still where his main priority is. And, while it is mainly for the sake of the pacing that he says it at that moment, it can be seen as him despairing only at that moment, and that he still had hope before.

I am not even saying my interpritation is the correct one. And i think it needs to be kept in mind that it is a fictional story aimed at children that often relies more on the rule of cool in the tense scenes, and that in such scenes some details need to be sacrificed for the sake of the proper pacing. And the DoU plan was probably very heavily affected by the shortening of the show (and, unlike some other writing choices, the weird logic lapses in the plan is the thing i will excuse with time being cut), so it might be hard to say what was actually going on with the characters and it's an additional reason why different interpritations are possible. It just irks me that Darius’s actions are seen almost exclusively from the worst possible angle.

And, tbh Darius being someone who cares a lot about people closest to him, but also about doing the right thing and saving others, and yet he is put in a position where is has to chose on an impulse and finds out that he can’t let his loved one die, and has to deal with his hard choice, is much more interesting than a character who just easily choses his loved ones over everyone else as some interpretations make him to be.

And it seems sometimes like the fanon just wants to put him into one category or the other - either he is primary a rebel and is absolutely horrid with personal relationships, or he is all about taking care of the other characters but is a terrible irrational rebel, when actually he can have flaws both as a rebel and with his personal relationships, while still being a good person and a good (for a cartoon) rebel - just like every other positive character.

[old-knightinsourarmor]

This is Reina, the writer behind knightinsourarmor, a multimuse roleplay blog, featuring two singlemuse blogs for my most active muses: @deibreak for Todoroki Shoto, and @naitfall for Levi Ackerman.

I will interact ONLY with people to have read my rules.

HOPE IS A DANGEROUS THING

MUSES. I portray many muses from various sources of media. This is my muses page. Other than Levi, the rest of my muses don't have an about page, for the reason I'm mobile bound 99% of the time and I can't work with Google Docs / Tumblr codes. I'll do my best to add any missing info in Tumblr posts as time progresses, and eventually properly move everything in Google Docs. My most active and developed muses for the time being are Todoroki Shoto, Levi Ackerman, and Castiel. They'll pop up on the dash more often than others.

REPLIES. I’m a slow writer. Trying to be a somewhat active member of this rotten society, and taking into consideration how things are in my life right now, I doubt I’ll be replying to a thread in less than a day. I might need days, weeks, or months to get to our thread. How long I take is NOT a reflection of my interest in our thread. Sometimes, I lose a specific muse, sometimes I don’t want to write a specific matter, sometimes I get stuck and can’t come up with a reply as good as yours. Or all of the above. But it’s definitely something that has nothing to do with you.

BETA EDITOR. I can only use beta editor, so I'd appreciate if you did the same so I can properly crop our threads.

CROSSOVERS. Crossover verses / AUs / Modern verses are main to my portrayal. I overly enjoy writing them ( sometimes more than canon interactions ), so I'd appreciate if you were interested on them. I don’t mind if I don’t know where your muse is coming from. If both sides want it, we can make this work. Established crossover verses can be found on my muses page, but I'm always willing to jump into any universe / setting / idea.

AGE. I'm over the age of eighteen. I won’t write with anyone younger than the age of eighteen.

DRAMA. I won't interact with anyone participating / supporting call-out culture, drama, or vague-posting. I will hard-blocking anyone making public any issues they have with anyone. I'm not interested to participate in the anti / pro-ship civil war going around and give myself another label. I also happen to be aware, people give different meanings to these terms. In conclusion, I will interact with both sides, or better say, anyone who knows respect, and doesn't spread hatred between the two, or anyone else. I expect to be RESPECTED for the content I post and the people I write with, same way I RESPECT everyone else and their views whether I agree with these or NOT.

I'm a pretty tolerant* person to what people like to write ( teenagers (16+) having sex, problematic ships or themes, etc. ) whether or not I agree with these matters, simply because this is what tagging is for. I expect the same from the people I choose to follow, concerning the matters I like to explore, and my boundaries.

* I'm disgusted I even have to note this, but people read only what their twisted minds think, so by being tolerant, I certainly don't mean with pedophilia.

CONTENT. Fiction and writing is a way of developing emotions / characters / bonds we wouldn't have the chance to explore in real life. The matters I may explore, don't reflect my views in real life. I portray fictional characters, in fictional settings. I approach the characters and the matters I've chosen to write with respect and care, for the sake of writing and nothing else, and I expect the same from my mutuals. I may happen to choose to write about matters ‘ questionable ’ or ‘ disturbing ’, and I will do so for the sake of character building and nothing else. Such matters may be war, drug usage, suicide ideation, dissociation, villain logic, prostitution, romantic ships with age-gap ( Eren & Levi ) & more. I don't expect anyone to agree writing any of these matters as a requirement to be mutuals, but I expect being given the space to explore these as much as I wish, with the people interested.

Concerning the people I choose to write with ( or not ) and the content they choose to write ( with me or not ) it's not anyone's concern than their's or mine's. If you dislike the people I write with, or the content that may pop up on your dash, the content I write with anyone other than YOURSELF, it's not in my concern. I properly tag everything and have warned you, ANYTHING may come up on your dash if you don't block tags. I'm open ( not necessarily interested ) to exploring many sort of questionable matters with the people interested, and to avoid any misunderstandings, if you're going to be an ass* for content you don't like / support, don't follow in the first place. To be less intimidating, this is only a warning, I'll post what I like and I don't want to bother with people who will judge me for it.

* make a fuss instead of blocking or blocking tags

SMUT: Exploring sexual themes is the least of my concerns in this blog. Sexual-themed threads are extremely rare and written only with people I trust, and only for the shake of WRITING. Exploring the bond, the emotions, and the atmosphere to come with the sexual act ( and that's why it's probably going to be 99% of emotions and 01% of the act described ). I prefer writing male x male sexual scenes. Only after a lot of building, I’ll feel comfortable enough to write male x female sexual scenes. I have zero experience and knowledge in writing female x female sexual scenes. I haven't decided on a tag yet, but when I do so, I'll inform you.

TRIGGERS. I tag the triggers my mutuals have on their rules/about page. A post with all the triggers tagged will be added soon. If you need me to tag a specific trigger, feel free to send me an ask or a message. I tag triggers like: ’#yourtriggergoeshere tw’ without the quotation marks. My own triggers are aliens, cockroaches, and drama. That’s the reason I won’t be writing with any single-muse roleplay blogs having alien muses (those having a non-human form). Cartoon/Anime alien faceclaims are the exceptions.

MAINS. I have blogs / threads which I prioritize over others. I don’t practice exclusives but there are roleplay partners I feel close to exclusives, meaning the chances to want to write with the same muse portrayed by someone else are very low. There are, but very low. I always enjoy looking at how someone has made their muse unique in their own way. You can find my main call here.

LIMIT. There's no limit to the asks you can send me or the active threads we may have going.

GENERAL: I'll remind you of the basic stuff: don't pester me for replies, control my muse, force a ship on me, etc. I'm OC friendly, crossover friendly, au friendly. Every romantic bond belongs to its own verse.

DROP. I don't drop threads and asks no matter how old. It's my policy to return the work you've put in writing something for me, even if it takes me years to do so. On your side though, feel free to drop anything you wish, no hard feelings.

MEMES & FANART. I'd appreciate if you reblogged memes / visuals / quotes from the source, unless I've tagged you in any of these. Memes / RP Starters have no time limit.

SPOILERS. This blog is not spoiler-free. I use the tag: #—× spoilers.

ENGLISH. English isn’t my mother language. Keep in mind OOC language ≠ Thread language. I pay little mind and care to ooc posts and communication. Don’t assume the mistakes I make when writing ooc will be the same mistakes on threads. I’m much more careful when writing my muses and do my best to make no mistakes at all. There might be times I make some or write something difficult to understand. Of course my inbox/messages are open for clarifications.

— MUSE SPECIFIC RULES

ARCANE MUSES. My arcane muses are solely based on Netflix’s series. I know nothing of League of Legends or video games in general.

SNK MUSES. I think of SNK as two separate stories that don’t connect with each other. I’m talking about before and after Marley Arc. ( Final season of the anime, chapter 91 of the manga ). Levi’s and Mikasa’s portrayals are based before Marley Arc, and Reiner’s after Marley Arc. I will surely write all three of them at any timeline of the SNK universe, but if not specified or agreed otherwise, my default timelines will be the ones above.

LEVI ACKERMAN. If interested in writing with Levi Ackerman, read this. ( DON'T SKIP )

MIKASA ACKERMAN. I don't ship Mikasa with Eren. Even though their relationship is confirmed to be romantic, in my portrayal, their bond is familial. There are chances I'll write them romantically as well if convinced into the ship, but I won't ship them by default.

MIKAELA HYAKUYA. My portrayal of him will be canon-divergent. Mikaela will be based in his character early in ons ( like, the anime timeline ) and based in my OWN headcanons and development for his character. Meaning I'll be IGNORING canon from some point on. Also, the canon storyline is getting very complicated for me to understand so like I said, I'll stick more to the anime, even if being caught up with the manga. Mikaela is a vampire and that's it.

CASTIEL. My portrayal of Castiel is canon-divergent since I don’t agree with many plot points of the show. I am not caught up with season 15 ( I only know some spoilers ) and my portrayal of Castiel is based mostly between seasons 4 and 9. I will write him at any season except 15, since I don’t know what’s going on. There always are exceptions though. Also, Castiel’s powers are different. At any season I am about to write him, he’ll have the same powers as he did on season 6, meaning much more powerful than he is in the later seasons ( he has his wings, he can time-travel, defeat most creatures etc.).

HOPE IS A GOOD THING. MAYBE THE BEST OF THINGS.

AND NO GOOD THING EVER DIES.

LAST UPDATE: Mar. 01, 2023

LIKES as a sign you've read my guidelines are appreciated even if not necessary.

[alostlittleriverlotus]

Literally when I say being hyperempathetic isn't all that great, I mean it.

1: I have literally been made fun of and belittled for it. I've been told I'm too sensitive and mocked/laughed at for empathizing with things that aren't real.

2: It can be exhausting. Even a fictional character can bother me and even trigger the hollow feeling I get from my BPD due to pure sadness.

3: I'm more at risk of having PTSD episodes due to news. I love true crime and all, but it can seriously affect me to my detriment. Being hyperempathetic also added to my trauma with my friends because I'd imagine myself in their shoes and would become so terrified I'd be sick.

4: It's so hard for me to set boundaries. Not purely cause I'm hyperempathetic (partly due to trauma and needing control), but I can't say that my hyperempathy doesn't affect it. I feel bad if I set boundaries. I'm getting better at it though.

5: It makes it so difficult to stand up for yourself and makes it so easy for people to manipulate you sometimes. I don't have a great family, my parents are super transphobic/homophobic and yet I still can't help empathizing with them. It makes it difficult for me to want to cut ties even though I've wanted that since I was in elementary school. I'm good at standing up for myself, but it really plays on my guilt and such because I can imagine how they feel and it turns into intrusive thoughts. Especially knowing when I've made my mother cry cause of our fights. Like I know I was in the right (she refuses to accept responsibility or even fully apologize), but it still hurts.

Being hyperempathetic can be a lot. I'm far more sensitive to things and so I have to work harder to manage it. It's never bad to be hyperempathetic and it's fine if a person wishes to romanticize it that has it, but for those that aren't hyperempathetic, please be aware of how difficult it can get for some of us. It is a lot of extra emotional weight and can be quite exhausting, especially if you're someone with a disorder that plays off that (for me, it's my BPD.)

And people with hyperempathy, especially my autistic folks, it's okay to ask clarifying questions especially around emotions. It's okay to set boundaries and say that you can't handle talking about something. It's okay to take time alone to recharge your emotional battery. It's okay to not always talk about people's problems because you can't handle it. Self care is so important and I wish everyone well. No matter where you are with empathy, you deserve so much love and I'm sure this advice can be put to anyone, not just hyperempathetic people. It's okay to put yourself first, it's okay to set boundaries, it's okay to consider your feelings. You deserve to have your needs met too.

[separatist-apologist]

why on earth do ppl call Lucien an abuser apologist? like how is he one? Him being unable to properly stand up for himself was so fucking understandable give the fact he grew up in an abusive household and then ended up with tamlin who also low key treated him like shit. Lucien has been stifled and pushed down (by tamlin a lil an his brothers) an yet he feels this loyalty to tamlin because he saved him. He’s unable to stand up to him because he feels this twisted loyalty to him. doesn’t that happen to so many fucking ppl in real like? an Lucien tried so hard for feyre even when HE was also a victim of so much abuse. it’s so random to me because I love Lucien an I love feysand, but some of these feysand stans say such ridiculous things abt the other characters yet never call out feyre or rhys on their shit. like Luciens an abuser apologist? hell no.

#i love Lucien vanserra

I wasn't going to respond to this but I'm doing some work stuff and it's on my mind.

I think there are two things when it comes to abuse and abuse apologism in the fandom.

SJM addresses it very poorly narratively and the readers pick up what she's saying. Sometimes I think she likes to sprinkle in a little sexual assault/domestic violence just to make things spicy but she doesn't want to follow through with it. So Rhys/Lucien are suffering...but only when it's narratively convenient and then they're not. Everyone KNOWS they're suffering...until it doesn't serve her anymore. And that's a problem because why should the fans care if, say, Feyre thinks that Lucien did nothing to help her or what he did wasn't enough? She thinks it, the author wrote that and even if we're not meant to agree (and I think we were), it gets said and people genuinely DO feel that way. Which takes me to my second point

this fandom fucking has 0 ability to address nuanced topics. Look at how Gwyn has been spoken about, how sexual assault gets weaponized for ships, and how people truly buy into "perfect victim" narratives, or the media shiny belief that you're somehow "broken" or "damaged" or otherwise incapable of moving forward once this happens. For Lucien specifically, he often gets painted with the "your parents are abusers so naturally you are too" brush and SJM uses it LIBERALLY all over the place.

Tomas Mandray is said to be a bad option for Nesta because his dad hits his mother (though we later find out this is true, he's a bad person not BECAUSE he has abusive parents). Eris (and his brothers) are merely extensions of Beron's worst impulses. The fandom loves to dunk on Lucien as being just like Beron and I've seen many, MANY bad takes where someone is calling Lucien out for being like Beron/drawing comparisons between Elain and the LOA. And part of that isn't even unreasonable because those are the authors opinions, too (though Lucien is Helion's son, which distances him from Beron and I know people like to pretend that's not canon)

Additionally, I do think a lot of people just don't think men can suffer from abuse and if they do, it's not as bad. So Lucien and Feyre are both suffering but hers is worse and Lucien is complicit for not killing Tamlin. Again, there is no nuance and if you attempt to inject it, people get angry because they take these books too personally. But these are real-life attitudes merely magnified in fiction which is why I'm always harping that analysis for these books too heavily focus on individual readers and not the authors on attitudes or the attitudes of the society we live in. SJM is merely reflecting the world we live in. Lucien just didn't try hard enough. He sided with Tamlin, he helped Hybern, blah blah blah.

Lucien lacks power across the board. He's the only person who helps Feyre in tangible ways when she's human and beneath the mountain- from screaming BEHIND YOU with the worm, to refusing to give up her name knowing he's going to die, and fixing her face and giving her a blanket in her cell, Lucien puts his body in front of Feryes over and over and over again. He does it because she is part of his court but in ACOWAR Lucien also says he's her friend. He's the only person, between the push-pull of Rhys and Tamlin, who is doing things because he is concerned about HER and not because he wants to fuck her.

And I know the criticism in ACOMAF is he tried to drag her back to Tamlin and ignored her letter, but Lucien didn't fucking know Rhys wasn't a piece of shit. In her mind, Feyre condemns him for thinking Rhys is, but the last interaction Lucien and Rhys have is Rhys in his mind about to kill him, and the time before that is him taunting Lucien about his dead love and his mother getting assaulted by his father. The author likes to ignore the things she wrote, but in order to prop Rhys up in ACOMAF, she just...ignores huge sections on ACOTAR.

And I think, finally, Feyre is the one who invites Lucien to Velaris. He keeps her secret all through ACOWAR when he knows she's lying. He teams up with her against his best friend on more than one occasion and out of everyone serving beneath a High Lord, Lucien is consistently the only person who defies orders in order to give Feyre help/information (Cassian and Azriel and Amren all hide that pregnancy, but Lucien defies Tamlin with the bogge and again when they just leave Spring behind after Ianthes hands get wrecked).

Anyway, I didn't mean to offer such a passioned defense of Lucien but if you stan Feyre and not Lucien RIP i guess. She considers him her friend, she brought him to Velaris with her, and Lucien still goes to Spring even though Tamlin uses him like a punching bag in order to ensure HER safety. He's the person who goes back when they find out she's pregnant to keep Tamlin from doing something foolish. He's keeping the human lands together for HER and HER court.

They're friends, die mad about it I guess