#then a bunch of falling out with my family etc etc i had NOTHING going into my twenties but a FUCKTON of trauma and mistrust

[junnieverse]

— NI-KI AS YOUR BOYFRIEND ! 💭

➙ boyfriend ni-ki thoughts

pairing: nishimura riki x gn!reader

genre: fluff

warning: not proofread (may be minor typos)

request: " Heyy!! Could i request a Ni-ki as your bf ? "

a/n: thank you so much anon for requesting it, I hope you liked this <3

the best friend sort of boyfriend

you and riki are that comfortable with one another that he feel more like your friend alot of the time, sometimes it slips your mind you're actually dating him

super playful boyfriend, he's always teasing you or play fighting you because he loves to hear the sound of your laughter

will either be sending you a bunch of memes and tiktoks or he could actually not text you for the entire day because he was gaming, there's no in between with him

you're his gaming partner by default now (I hope you're good because you've got yourself quite the competitive boyfriend) but if you're not the best gamer out there then he's definitely gonna teach you

he's always telling you stories about his family or the other members because those are the most important people in his life

you get riki's lover wardrobe privileges

I'm talking full access to his closet, he gives you free reign to pick whatever of his you want and you get to wear it, the bonus is that it smells like him too :)

arcade dates >>>

and just fun and active dates in general like amusement parks, go karting and etc are guaranteed to be the best time spent with riki

he may have a whole bunch of beautiful pictures of you but that's just about 30% of it, the rest of the 70% is unfortunately crack, 'unflattering' candid photos he's taken of you when you weren't paying attention

he will use those meme photos of you to post on your birthday but you also have a bunch of embarrassing photos to use against him too

best believe if you aren't pranking other people together then he's probably planning to prank you

not sure whether he loves you or your bed more because he's always sleeping there

sometimes he calls you on video call just to see your face and say nothing at all after that, you both probably end up falling asleep on that call but he also took a few screenshots too because you sleeping was just too adorable

late night walks with him and then proceeding to take a whole bunch of pictures together because you're a photogenic couple

not necessarily the best at comforting you with warm words but is better at making you laugh until you feel better

most likely has your name saved as something humorous instead of cute and romantic but honestly speaking, you probably do too

would have this little habit of holding onto your pinky or linking your pinkies together

makes sure to call you every day or send you videos of his adventures while he's on tour

you had once hand made a little bracelet for him and he has never taken it off since then because it holds alot of sentiment for him

has a whole playlist dedicated to you too specially curated with songs you both enjoy or remind him of you

calling each other "bro", "dude" and "bruh" affectionately is normalised in your relationship

doesn't like to admit it but it's pretty clear he's quite clingy with you, he's always around you because even a second away he forgets how to breathe, not my words but his

he is OBSESSED with kissing you, he is always showering you with kisses and hugs in a passive aggressive way

going shopping together has become a form of a date between you both too

having similar styles, you're both able to help each other pick outfits and accessories that compliment one another

"Riki, would you love me if I was a worm?"

"Bisco might end up accidentally eating you, I can't let you suffer that way... let's just be boneless and limbless together. Then have a worm wedding :)"

[strawberriescherrieskiwi]

Costars

Anon Request.

Could you write a story where Timothée and y/n are costars and they like each other, he asks her out but she rejects him because she thinks he's a womanizer and the two have an argument etc but at the end they get together. Obviously you are free to add whatever you want, love your writing 🩷

Wordcount: 5.3K+

Description: You shouldn’t fall for your Costar. Everyone knew it was a recipe for disaster, but you didn’t listen and liked Timothee a lot and you slept with him, only to let the rumors about him get to you and turn things upside down for you and everyone on set. Featuring Zendaya as the icon she is and Tom.

A/N: So it is 1:30 am my time, but hey. I finished and posted it. It took me way too long to write this, but in my defense, I got distracted like a toddler. I changed things slightly from the request, but I hope it is what you had in mind. Thank you for the request and the kind words. All the love.

Warning: Smut, angst with happy ending, argument, misunderstanding. Actressreader  Unedited, I will edit in the morning.

“I’m so done with this. You guys are being way too harsh to Darcy. Don’t we all gossip with our friends at parties? Last week we all went to that bar in Time Square and laughed at the guy that tried to flirt with Z,” you huffed, taking the bottle and pouring another round of Vodka shots for everyone.

They all laughed, shaking their head at your antics. “You are so passionate about Pride and Prejudice.” Zendaya chuckled, grabbing her glass.

“Of course I am. It’s one of my favorite stories and the start of the Enemies to Lovers troupe,” you said, downing your shot.

Timmy followed suit, choking lightly, laughing at your comment. “Was that not Romeo and Juliet.”

“Oh shit, Timmy why did you say that,” someone groaned but you ignored them as your eyes narrowed at Timmy. 

“Are you fucking serious?”

“I’m not fucking anyone right now,” he countered smirking.

“Yeah, I’m out,” Zendaya said, getting off the floor of your apartment. Everyone else nodded quickly getting up and leaving knowing you were about to go off on Timmy.

“You think you are so fucking clever, Chalamet. With your handsome face, French language, and talent.”

“Thank you for the compliments.”

“First Romeo and Juliet is such a shit story, it was stolen by Shakespeare from another author and they were not enemies, they never met until the party. Their families hated each other. They were instant love, which I hate because it is so unrealistic, and Romeo was obsessed with her cousin literally until the moment he saw her, it’s just bad and holds nothing to Darcy and Lizzy,” you ranted.

Timmy just laughed, staring at you fondly. “Romeo walked for Darcy to write that letter.” He didn’t believe the words, but they had their desire effect as your eyes widened your mouth opened and closed.

“You... Timothee Chalamet… I…” You closed your mouth glaring at him, grabbing the bottle of Vodka and chugging the rest of the bottle.

Timmy’s eyes widened and he laughed so hard until his side ached and he fell over. You groaned and cough as you reached for your water bottle. “That was a bad idea. Look what you did. I can’t believe you are my Darcy and you think so horribly,” you mumbled.

You and Timmy were cast in a Greta Gerwig directed remake of Pride and Prejudice. With Timmy as a young Darcy, Zendaya as Jane, and you as Elizabeth. 

You have been a fan of Greta for years and when you heard she was at the helm of making another remake you jumped at the chance. You’ve worked with Zendaya before and she spoke highly of Timothee, to be honest, you had a slight crush on him before the casting and filming process. 

You met a year prior at an afterparty for the Oscar. You were filing into the elevator with a bunch of all actors when you ended up pressed into a corner with Timmy. You both already had a bit to drink and were giggling.  

You gushed about how much you loved his last film and giggling he told you how much he loved your films. He was so close to you as he whispered how you were his favorite actor. And then the elevator ding and he was out, lost in the crowd.

You thought about him for weeks after that. Your face heating just thinking about him, but it wasn’t until your last round of casting that you saw him again. You doubted he remember the drunk meeting and you never brought it up and you two had great chemistry and both got the roles.

Since then, you two have only gotten closer and your small crush has only gotten stronger. Besides his horrible taste in classic literature, you thought he was funny, smart, and one of the best people you have ever met.

“You are lucky the bottle was mostly gone.”

“I would have chugged it if there was more,” you said, though you both know you were lying as you were still drinking water to get the burn out of your throat.

“If you say so.” 

“I do say so. You know you have gotten a bit smug. Maybe I’ll stop inviting you to my dinner parties,” you teased.

Timmy leaned closer to you. His eyes dropped to your lips for a moment before staring back into your eyes. “You wouldn’t do that to your new best friend. We are close, the parties would be incomplete without me. And second, these are mostly drinking parties.”

You flushed, slapping his shoulders and shoving him away. “Fuck you, we have food. This one just happened to be a drinking party, because we have tomorrow off and we need to take advantage.”

Your apartment was the cast chill spot. You loved cooking and hosting friends. You did it for most of the movies you’ve been in and this one was no different. You were a people person and loved being surrounded by good people.

“If you say so. We all know you pull out the alcohol so you can chat about books all night along. I am not complaining, of course, I think you are cute when you rant and rave about books.”

“And you are a flirt, Timothee,” you said, flickering his nose. Getting up and walking into the kitchen. He flirted a lot and you flirted back, but you were unsure if it was harmless flirting or not. Timmy had a flirty personality and you worried that it was nothing serious to him.

You liked him a lot. You thought he was the best, but that didn’t mean you didn’t hear the rumors about him. The talk of him hooking up with random people all the time. You didn’t judge him, he was young and free to do whatever he wanted, but you didn’t want to just be another hookup.

Grabbing another bottle of water you drink slowly, trying to calm your racing heart. Zenadaya danced into the kitchen, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. “Y/n, the party is great, but it is late and I wanted to enjoy my off day and not be completely fucked.”

“Really? And this has nothing to do with a certain British actor that’s been all over you  all night. Because I think being fucked is exactly what you want tonight and tomorrow and however long he will be here.”

She flushed covering her face with her hands. “Shut up, don’t tease me. He’s so adorable, I love him.

“That is a relief, you are getting married,” you teased.

“I hate you sometimes,” Z groaned pulling away from you and then smirking. “Now what about you and Mr. Chalamet,” she said, wiggling her eyebrow at you.

It was your turn to flush. “What are you talking about? We are friends.”

“Really?”

“Yes, friends and costars.”

Z rolled her eyes but quickly lit up as Tom poked his head into the kitchen. His eyes instantly on her, before sliding to yours. “Hey, did Z tell you we are hiding out? Unless you need help cleaning up. We can stay and help, mostly everyone else is gone.” He rambled.

Both Zendaya and you laughed. “No, Tom, but thank you. The best part of a party is the clean up,” you said, pushing Zendaya towards her fiance.

“Okay, then we will see you later,” He said grabbing her hand and walking out of the kitchen, but Zendaya quickly stuck her head back in the room. 

“For the record,  Tom and I were costars and friends and then one day we were this.” And then she was gone again, the front door closing sounded moments later.

You shoved her words out of your head and decided to focus on cleaning up. Grabbing a trash bag you walked out of the kitchen you saw Timmy picking up plates and beer bottles. 

“Hey, Tim. You don’t have to help clean up. Really, I got it.” You said making your way over to him and taking the trash out of his hands.

“I don’t mind helping you clean. Everyone else left and I would feel bad if I just left as well. Let me help we can clean and just hang out. I want us to hang out more.”

“We hang out all the time,” you laughed but gave him the trash bag and started helping him clean.

You cleaned quickly making jokes and finishing off bottles laying around, teasing each other and flirting the whole time. After cleaning,  you both ended up in your bedroom and sitting in your book nook looking out of the window and sharing a cigarette.

Timmy's head rested in your lap as your eyes followed the rain outside. Your hand absently running through his hair  “Thank you for staying and helping. I don’t mind cleaning, but it was fun having you here,” you said.

Timmy beamed, burying his face in your stomach to hide his flushed face. His heart was beating so loud, he worried you were going to hear it. You’ve been all he could think about since the moment he met you.  “I was raised right to help a friend out.” He mumbled.

His lips brushed your stomach and you quickly took a drag of the cigarette trying to ignore the heat pooling in you. Your hands shook slightly and you laughed moving your hand from his hair.

Whining, Timmy pulled back and stared up at you pouting. “Hey don’t stop. That was very soothing.”

“You are a baby and very cute,” you giggled, resuming carding your fingers through his hair. You were not as drunk as early but enough to flirt more directly and not care about him being your costar.

“You think I’m cute?”

“Oh you know you are cute. And attractive and funny. Shit Timmy, you are the whole package,” you said.

Sitting up, he moved closer to you, his eyes wide and searching your face. “You really think that?”

“Yeah. Most people do,” you said, shyly looking back out the window, passing him the cigarette.

Timmy finished it off. Opening the window and tossing the cigarette out. The sound of rain filled the room with both of your breathing. Timmy's lips ghosted over your shoulder, up your neck, and behind your ear. “You drive me crazy, you know that? Kissing you on set every day is both heaven and hell.”

Your eyes closed and you leaned into his kisses. Timmy's hands slipped under your shirt, rubbing circles into your stomach. You groaned and turned your head and connected your lips with his.

Timmy bite your lower lip and then ran his tongue over your lip before licking his way into your mouth.  Your hands were back in his hair and you were pulling him closer, tugging on the back of his curls.

Timmy moaned, pulling away. You whimpered, following his lips, but he just chuckled and pecked your lips. “Hold on, I want to see all of you.” And then he was taking off your shirt and then your pants. 

You quickly return the favor, undressing him until he was naked. Timmy wasted no time kissing you again, pressing you close against his body. You kissed switching back and forward between sweet and passionate to needy and rough. One of your lips was bleeding but neither one of you cared.

“I need to be inside of you,” Timmy mumbled into your mouth.

You nodded eagerly, pecking his lips. Timmy gripped your waist pressing you against the window. Your cheek was flushed against the window and your hands grabbed the windowsill.

Timmy's hand slid between your thighs and forced them apart. You squealed at your new position and his fingers, running along your folds. “Timmy please,” you moaned.

“Shush, don’t worry I’ll take care of you, baby.” He moved behind you and pressed his cock against your dripping cunt.

You clenched with feeling how big he felt. Fuck there was nothing you wanted more than to feel him inside of you. “Fuck me already, please. I need you, Timmy.”

“Fuck, don’t beg. You are going to make me cum before I even get inside of you,” he said, before thrusting his cock inside of you, fucking one inch into you at a time. You moaned loudly, your breath fogging up the window.

“Shit shit. Fuck, so tight,” He pressed his face against yours as he gripped your waist and picked up speed.  He moaned biting kisses into your shoulder and your neck. 

Timmy's thrust went from fast and punishing and then he would stop and give you slow and long thrust, forcing his cock as deep inside of you as he could.  “You feel so good around my cock, baby.”

“Yeah. Like the way my cunt feels around your cock?” You gasped.

“Yeah, so tight. I’m going fucking cum soon. Can I cum inside, want to cum inside of you, fucking fill you up with my cum, please,” he begged.

Fuck you knew you should tell him to pull out, but he sounded so needy and you wanted to feel his cum inside of you. You wanted to fill him leaking out of you. “Fuck, yeah come inside of me. Need you cum to be inside of me.”

“Oh, fuck, okay, baby.” Timmy pressed you harder against the window as he thrust harder and faster. His breathing grew rapid and his hands tightened around your waist. Your walls tightened around him and he moaned releasing inside of you.

His moans and his cum inside of you had you thrusting back on his cock until you were cumming screaming his name.

You both groaned. The room was hot and your skin felt on fire but the coolness from the window was a perfect contrast. Timmy pressed his face against your back and you both were silent for a few minutes.

Timmy pulled out slowly and flopped on the bench next to you. “Fuck that was… fuck,”

You nodded, “Yeah it was,” You said, turning around and kissing him. Timmy kissed back, picking you up and carrying you to your bed.

“Round two already,” you teased, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him down on you.

“Yeah, I think I am addicted already.”

You woke up the next day around 12:30. The sun was shining through the window and you were sore and had a horrible taste in your mouth. Timmy and you were pressed against each other fucking until the sun came up and you finally passed out next to each other.

Flushing you thought about all the things you did and turn over to stare at him, but Timmy was gone. You sat up, looking around the room seeing his clothes were gone and the bedroom door was open.

Grabbing your robe you walked around your apartment, but he was nowhere in sight.  The thought that last night was just sex crashed through you and you felt your heart drop. Sitting down on the bed you felt dejected and stupid.  

“Of course, last night was a hookup,”  you mumbled to yourself. But you were not going to sit and be sad. No, you knew the rumors and even warned yourself against this, but whatever you would forget about it.

So you showered, washed your sheets, made yourself a big bowl of pasta, and watered all your plates. Flowers, along with books, were your happy place and your apartment had about 15 different plants and flowers around your house. Your mood lifted and you were humming.

Your phone was blowing up and you ignored it until each flower was watered and you had no more reasons to avoid it. Grabbing your phone, your mood dropped as you were getting texts from the group chat you were in with a few of the extras you got close to. 

One of the girls was going on and on about her morning with Timmy. How he called her and asked her on a date and then went back to her hotel and had sex. Your eyes blurred and you scoffed, quickly going to Timmy's name in your phone and blocking him, and then doing the same with Twitter and Instagram.

You felt somewhere between stupid and pissed off. The less he could do was not fuck someone almost as soon as he left your house. All your happy thoughts and feelings for him turned to ash and disgust.

You allowed yourself a few minutes to wallow before deciding to be productive again. You shopped for dinner and went over your lines and repeated to yourself that you would act as if nothing happened at work. You were a professional and would not let your personal feelings get in the way.

By the next morning, you were a woman on a mission. You arrived to work early with coffee for everyone and donuts. You chatted with Greta about your scene for today and felt good.

Sitting in your chair read your line again and the little notes and you Greta made when you heard a loud giggle from across the room. Glancing up you saw the same extra and Timmy across the room. She was leaning against his arm and laughing at something he said. Timmy’s back was to you and you rolled your eyes going back to your script.

“Hey,” Timmy said, minutes later standing in front of you.

“Hello,” you replied not looking up.

Timmy rocked on his heels for a moment, unsure of what to say. You ignored him.

“Umm. Did you want get a coffee with me before we have to be in hair and make-up?”

You lifted your coffee cup, waving it slightly. “I already got one. I got here early.” you closed your script and got up from your chair. “And I’m actually due in hair and make-up now.”

“Oh, okay.” He said, stepping back from you. When you started to walk away he panicked and grabbed your arms. “Hey wait.”

You paused, looking from his face to his hand on your arm until he awkwardly removed it. “Yes?”

Timmy smiled painfully and awkwardly and wiped his hands on his pants. They were now completely sweaty and he was embarrassed and confused. “I was thinking, after work today we could-” You held up your hand.

“Yeah, whatever you are thinking no thanks.”

“N-No thanks?”

“Yeah. I think it is best if we not make things awkward on set. We had fun but I have no desire to do any of that again.” And without waiting for a reply you were off towards your trailer. You felt badass and so proud of yourself even if your chest ached a bit.

When you got to your trailer, you collapsed onto your sofa. “You are fucking amazing,” you praised yourself. A knock on the trailer had you getting back up and you were surprised to see Timmy.

He quickly walked in and closed the door behind him. 

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” You asked.

“I’m sorry. It’s just. I’m confused. I wanted to ask you out. I wasn’t asking you for you know another hook-up.”

“My answer is the same either way.”

“What why?

You snorted, “Because I don’t want to fuck you again.”

“Why? Did we not have fun?”

“Yes, and I don’t want to repeat it.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Yes, Rose,”

“What?”

“Look, Timmy. I get it, you are young, attractive, and like sleeping with people. I’m not judging you, but I don’t want to be your friend with benefits or anything. I don’t like hooking up. What we did was a mistake.”

“A mistake? I like sleeping around?”

“Yeah to both of them.”

“So what you think I’m trying to seduce you or something?”

“You technically already did that.”

“Are you serious? Do you think so low of me?”

“Not until I woke up alone. I liked you a lot Timmy, like so fucking much, and then I wake up and you are gone and you were with someone else.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I like you, a lot too.”

You scoffed. “I’m sorry Timmy but you use women and I don’t want to be another one. Everyone knew it about you but people ignore it because you have that smile and warmth but it's all an act isn’t it?”

“Are you gonna believe rumors about me? Really? We are friends, you know me. I’m not like that. I don’t use people.”

“Then what about me? Did you not use me?”

“No of course not.” He moved closer to you, grabbing your elbow. 

You pushed his hand. “Don’t touch me, Timothee.”

“I don’t understand. What changed?”

“Why did you leave?”

“I-I don’t know, I just didn’t want to make things awkward and so I left and then regretted it and text you later on. You never answered me.”

“Was this before or after you fucked someone else?”

He blinked at you as if you were insane. “I didn’t sleep with any else.”

“So you are going to lie to my face?

“I’m not lying. I wouldn’t do that, not to anymore, and god not to you. I’m crazy about you.”

You didn’t believe him. You couldn’t believe him. “I really wish you would leave. We are at work and I won’t have this fight here. Fuck who you want just leave me alone.”

“You are serious. You really gonna believe the worse about me?”

“I’m serious,” you said walking to the door and opening it. “Now get out.”

“Fine if you believe every lie and rumor you hear instead of all the time we spent together. Then fuck it, whatever. If you want to be costars then let’s just be costars,” he said, stumping out of the trailer and slamming the door behind him.

The tension between the two of you was noticeable on set, but it worked for the scene with your characters arguing. You didn’t hold back and let him have it and the moment cut was called, Timmy was storming away from you. 

You held in an eye roll. You loved your job, you didn’t want to make things uncomfortable for everyone else. It was unfair and unprofessional. It went on for the rest of the week, until the point that you were spending every moment not filming in your trailer to make the set better.

By the end of the week, you were miserable and couldn’t wait for the film to be wrapped. Walking into your trailer first thing in the morning you smiled as you saw a small terrarium sitting on the table. 

You picked it up gently but found no note or anything, you didn’t talk about your love of plants to anyone so it was a lucky guess. You chalked the whole thing up to a crewmember getting gifts for everyone, it was something that happened before.

Smiling happily the whole day you felt like things were turning around. Timmy was less hostile towards you and felt like you could breathe again. It was lunch when you were cornered by Zendaya. She grabbed your arm as you tried to go back to your trailer.

“No missy, you are not going to hide away. Not today, what is going on? Why have you been so distant? Did something happen?” She asked worriedly.

You bit your lower lips and knitted your brows. You knew she was close to Timmy. They were close friends and while you two had grown incredibly close you didn’t know if she would take your side. To be honest, you didn’t want her to. There were no sides, you weren’t dating, and Timmy owed you nothing. Your hurt feelings were not her problem.

“Hey. We are friends and I’m worried,” she promoted again.

“It’s nothing really? I’ve just been a bit in my head. You know how it is,” you said.

She didn’t look convinced. “Ah, and Chalamet caught it too? He’s been pouting and messing up lines all week. You both can barely stay in the same room. So what happened? Look… he told me you two slept together, did things not happen the way he says.”

“We did sleep together and then he slept with someone else right after?”

“What? He slept with someone else,” she said a bit loud. 

You shushed her, grabbing her arm and walking into your trailer. “Yes, he slept with some extra and was bragging in the group chat.”

“Wait when did this happen?”

“I guess after he left my home.”

“What? No that didn’t happen at all.”

“She sent us a picture of him and her,” you said, pulling out your phone and showing her.

“This girl? She is obsessed with him. I don’t know if you noticed, but she was fired this week. She broke into his dressing room, Greta fired her and she’s been banned from set.”

“That is his story, who knows what happened between them? Maybe she was upset he used her,” you said, looking down at your skirt.

“Babe. No, she’s crazy. After Timmy left yours he fucking came to annoy me and Tom. He went on and on about you and we went to get coffee. She came and forced herself into our group, and was all over him. But Timmy left with us, sadly. Talked about you and after I told him he was an idiot for leaving he texted you.”

“He didn’t sleep with her?”

“Are you listening to me? No, he didn’t sleep with her. The boy is in love with you. He was so excited when you got cast and he’s only been falling harder. I tried to drop subtle hints to you both, but you both are thick in the head.”

“I basically called him a whore and a womanizer.”

“What? Why the hell would you do that?”

“W-Well. Fuck, after I saw the text, I was upset and I thought about all the stupid rumors about him.”

“You know rumors are just that. Timmy isn’t like that. He’s slept with people, but he doesn’t go around looking for hookups and using women. You know that.”

“I was upset and hurt and I felt used. I’m the worse person ever.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. You were upset and while what you said was wrong, it’s not unfixable. Talk to him. I don’t think he is upset with you.”

You buried your face in your hands. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, he gave you the terrarium. He has to be over it.”

You looked at her then the terrarium. “Timmy gave me this?” You asked picking it up.

“Yeah. When you weren’t answering his texts he wanted to go to your house with flowers and then he said you would probably like a terrarium went and brought one. I assumed with all the tension he kept it or something.”

You grabbed your phone quickly unblocking his number. “I need to talk to him, fuck. I need to apologize.”

Zendaya got up nodding, “Yes talk to the man and both of you two need to stop pouting.”

You thanked her and quickly unblocked Timmy’s number and called him. He answered after the second ring.

“Hello.”

“Hey, hi. Hello. Umm, Hi Timmy. Look, I know I am probably the last person you want to hear from, but I wanted to talk. To apologize to you for the way I treated you. Have you had lunch yet? Maybe I can treat you.”

“Sure, I’m almost done getting undressed. Do you want to meet outside set in 10 minutes?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be there.”

You changed quickly and waited outside for Timmy. He arrived with his hands in his pockets, smiling awkwardly at you.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.”

“Umm, are you ready to go?” He asked.

“Yeah, do you want to get Pizza?”

“I would never turn down Pizza,” he smiled.

“Perfect.”

You walked side by side for a moment in silence. You had no idea what to say and it seems like Tim didn’t as well. You bite your lower lip, all your harsh words from a few days ago rushing through your mind.

“How did you know? About the terrarium?” you asked after a few minutes.

“You have flowers all over your apartment. And you had those little flower earrings at the Oscars-” You cut him off with wide eyes.

“The Oscars last year? That was before we met, you remembered?”

“Yeah. We actually met briefly that night. Remember in the elevator at Vanity Fair’s afterparty? We were pressed together in the crowded elevator. You told me you liked my recent film.”

“And you told me you liked all my films. That I was your favorite actress,” You finished looking down at your hands. God, you felt like an asshole, the biggest asshole. Is this how Lizzy felt when she read Darcy’s letter? You chuckled softly shaking your head. You normally liked life imitating art, but not when it involved your love life.

“Thinking about Darcy?” Timmy teased, a smile gracing his face for the first time since you met up today.

“I was thinking about him and Lizzy and how much of an asshole I’ve been to you, Timmy. You’ve been nothing but sweet and lovely and I believed rumors and some girl on set over you. I was awful and I regret everything I said in my trailer.”

“It upset me that you thought the worst in me. I thought we were closer than that. I thought we had a connection.”

You held your head in shame. “I can never apologize more. I let my hurt and anger get the best of me. I didn’t want to believe it, but I did and let all the good things I knew about you go away.”

He nodded. “I understand being hurt. It was stupid of me to leave without a note or anything, but I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to sleep with you. I don’t regret that, but I wanted to date as well, do things properly.”

“I shouldn’t have overreacted and be nasty to you. I hope that you could forgive me,” you said hopefully.

Timmy reached down and grabbed your hand, entangling your fingers. “I’ll forgive you, on the condition you go on a date with me. No strings attach, but I do really like you. You have bewitched me, mind and soul,” he grinned goofily. 

You chuckled, squeezing his hand. “I think I can deal with that condition. And besides that, I will make up for how wrong and rude I was.”

“Well, that might take a while. You’ll have to stick with me for a while.”

“I have no complaints about that. I enjoy being around you. Who else is going to tell me about basketball.”

“And who else will have passionate discussions with me over classic literature?”

“A lot of people, but no one will do it over a bottle of Vodka and chug the bottle when they are annoyed,” you laughed.

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

You two had stopped walking at one point, there were people all around you, but neither of you noticed. Timmy pulled you in front of him. One of his hands moves to cup the back of your neck, the other resting on your waist. 

“So I’ve kissed you as Lizzie, I’ve kissed you drunkenly, I think we need a do-over first kiss, something more us. Just two people that like each other?”

Your eyes dropped to his lips. Timmy ran his tongue along his bottom lip and your breath caught. You looked up at him, nodding. “I agree a do-over is needed. What if you are a bad kisser?” You teased.

He rolled his eyes, gripping your waist hip. “We both know that is untrue.”

“I guess you’ll have to prove it.”

Smirking, Timmy raised your head, leaning down until his lips brushed yours. “I will,” his words ghost over your lips before crashing into yours.

You moaned, gripping the side of his jacket, pulling him closer.

                                     Taglist.

@gatoenlaciudad

@iloveneilperry

@valencia-rou

[alreadyjackbestfriend]

can you write something about the reader and jack getting into a super bad argument about fame getting to his head? let’s say he’s treating the reader differently, not prioritizing his family, etc. (not that he’d ever do that ofc 🥰😂)

just another celebrity

GENRE: angst

i think i didn't really like how this turned out, but i really hope you do😭

---

“I’m so sorry Maggie” you told your mother in law after you finished your second glass of wine.

she sighed, "it's not your fault, dear"

“I still feel guilty, it was my idea”

“this is only jack's responsibility" she reaffirmed, putting her hand on top of yours on the table, giving you a warm, but sad smile.

A few days ago it had been Jack's birthday, and you thought that the best thing was that he celebrate that day with his friends, and that on the weekend, he could have a quiet dinner with the two most important women in his life: his mom and you.

Thing is, Jack hadn't shown up.

“should we order?” Maggie said, taking you by surprise. You had thought that after her son stood her up, she would just want to go home.

“oh, I thought you wanted to go home" you confessed.

“we are already here, y/n, in nice dresses, in a nice restaurant, let's not waste the opportunity”

You smiled sadly at her, “okay” you nodded.

after having dinner with jack's mom, and doing your best to keep it from being a sad evening, you came home exhausted and upset. This wasn't the first time Jack had failed you in this way, and you were starting to get frustrated. Also, you never imagined that he could also fail his own mother.

--

You were already sleeping when you felt Jack's body fall onto the bed with a thud, not caring if he woke you up or not. You didn't turn around anyway, and when you felt him kiss your hair and wrap an arm around your waist, you could only clench your jaw and force yourself back to sleep.

The next morning, Jack was still in the same position, and you removed his arm from your waist without any delicacy, however, Jack continued to sleep as if nothing had happened.

you showered, put clothes on and went down to the kitchen to make yourself breakfast. when you sat at the kitchen table and started looking at your phone while you ate, you came across some photos that made you abruptly drop your spoon.

Last night you had felt anger, but now you could feel the sadness closing your throat. As you watched Jack surrounded by celebrities at what appeared to be a second birthday party, you wondered if that man smiling in the photos was the same man you fell in love with.

You began to remember the last few months, all the times that he had been late, all the greeting kisses that he had returned without taking his eyes off his phone, all the nights that you had slept alone because he was at a party that he couldn't miss because there would be that celebrity and that celebrity.

all those times it hurt, but never like this. You know it was DRAKE, you know it was DOJA CAT, and a bunch of other celebrities, but were they more important than his mom?

you kept looking at the photos in case you found Urban in any of them, or if he had taken some, or maybe some members of PG, but nobody was, so... his best friends weren't invited either?

“morning baby” Jack's voice made you jump, and he kissed your hair without even realizing it, quickly turning to the fridge to get something to eat.

“where were you last night?” you replied, not bothering to greet him. You could see his brow furrowed as he looked back at you.

“in a party?”

“And, by any chance, did you have your phone with you?”

“where are you going with this?" he asked, as if he was already bored with the conversation.

“we had agreed to have dinner with your mom last night, jack. we waited for you for almost three hours”

“I don't remember when we agreed on that, y/n, but I'm sure mom will understand, I'll call her in a bit”

“yes, she will understand, but not me”

“please, y/n, let's not make this bigger than it is” he replied, rolling his eyes.

you opened your eyes wide, not believing what he was telling you. "You really don't care about standing us up for hours? Don't you feel even… a little bit of guilt?" you said, gesturing with your hands.

"I'm sorry, babe" he said, but anyone could tell that he was just saying it out of commitment, you didn't see a bit of regret in his eyes, he wasn't even trying to sound believable.

"I... I don't think I recognize you anymore, jack" you said almost in a whisper, and you saw how he snorted.

"you're really making a drama, y/n"

"I don’t think so. The Jack that I knew had his mother as his number one priority, he had his usual circle of friends that he took everywhere with him, if he had commitments with the people he loved, he would arrive on time. The Jack that I met at least took his eyes off his cell phone when he greeted me"

"I'm still like that, y/n, I can't believe you're doing this scene for one mistake!"

"one mistake? one mistake?” you said, beginning to breathe heavily, as you stood up from your chair “and what about everything else I just mentioned? what about dinner with my parents a month ago when you were an hour late, or when I broke my foot three months ago, but you found out the next day because you didn’t answer the damn phone?!" you said, touching his chest with your index finger with each word, in an accusing way. After months, your frustration causing you to vomit words without being able to stop, “oh! and how to forget when you arrived drunk at your brother's birthday and fell asleep on the couch because you had been celebrating I don't know what with fucking Adam Levine! can't stand that guy, by the way” the last part almost made jack laugh, you were so angry that you didn't even care anymore if you mentioned things that had nothing to do with the matter, "oh, are you amused? So you still don't understand everything I just told you?"

Jack had never seen you like this, and with your last sentence he began to realize the seriousness of the situation, but not completely. he tried to hug you and tell you he was sorry a thousand times, but you didn't let him.

“This is not going to be fixed with a couple of kisses and a gift, Jack... I think I've put up with too much… you are not the person that I fell in love with, the kind, the humble and nice man that I fell in love with. Now you're... now you're just another celebrity” you said, before walking out of the house, leaving Jack confused and heartbroken on the kitchen floor.

-----

i think i found out yesterday about adam levine's infidelity… i live in a country that hates him so, DID WE LIE? 💀

[verybadatwriting]

The Healer 2

Teen!ReaderxAvengers

Summary: Y/n adjusts to life in the tower and the people they share it with.

Warnings: Bad sleep schedule. References to past trauma (kidnapping, murder of parents, etc.)

Gn!reader

Word count: 2,477

    Steve and you sat at the table, having just finished breakfast, and he outlined the plan for today. Having spent 14 years with a strictly regimented schedule, you found it helpful to have an idea what was happening on any given day.

    “In the morning I’d like you to meet someone, my friend Bucky. He’s a bit shy, but I think the two of you will get along. Then around noon Wanda wanted to take you out for lunch,” Steve said, “If you would like to go.”

    “That sounds nice.” You replied, “And after that?”

    “I don’t have any plans for the afternoon, if you and Wanda want to have an afternoon out, that’s fine by me. Be back by dinner though, there is a movie night afterwards.”

    “What’s that?”

    “We all get into comfortable clothing and watch a movie with a bunch of snacks.” Wanda said, as she popped into the room, “I think it’s one of our best Saturday traditions. Unless Stark chooses the movie.”

    “I can’t wait!” You said, “Today’s gonna be great.” Steve left the room, leaving you and Wanda to chat. After you’d finalized your plans for the afternoon, FRIDAY delivered an invitation to join Steve and his friend in the living room. You said goodbye to Wanda, and skipped to the living room.

    Steve sat facing the doorway, and across the coffee table from him was his friend Bucky. He had his back towards you. All you could see was his shoulder-length hair and the faint glint of metal on his left shoulder.

    “Ah, Y/n,” Steve said, “This is Bucky.” The second man turned around and – to your horror – you recognized his face. Thousands of thoughts rushed through your mind. Pure terror made you turn heel and sprint away. You dashed through the corridors in a confusing zig-zag, sprinting up stairs, until you found yourself on a deserted floor of the Tower. You looked for the most hidden spot and closed yourself in.

    A few minutes later, you heard FRIDAY ask where you were. You dared not speak, even to her. You heard people moving around the building, presumably searching for you. At one point Steve went room by room on the same floor as you. He opened the closet you were in, and peeked inside. 

    “Oh hey there.” Steve said, “Are you okay?” He took your silence as a no.

    “That’s fine. Do you wanna talk about what happened?” He asked, “I just wanna make sure you know you’re safe.”

    “I-I…” you choked up, “I knew him.”

    “Bucky?” Steve seemed taken aback, “When did you meet him?”

    “The first time, I think I was about two,” You said, “Was when HYDRA captured me. It was a pitch black fall night. Cold too. Somehow my parents managed to convince me to run into the woods and hide before HYDRA got inside. There was a small cave, barely wide enough for a toddler to fit inside of, and I wedged myself in.

    “I heard the shots that silenced my family. They were crisp and clear. Then his footsteps came crunching across the leaves, closer and closer. He found the cave, and looked inside. His eyes were empty. Lifeless. Nothing behind them.” You shuddered.

    “He reached in, grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, and… And…”

    “It’s ok Y/n.” Steve said. “That sounds terrifying. He’s not the same man.”

    “People don’t change that much.” You replied.

    “No,” Steve said, “His mind isn’t the same. Back then he was under the complete command of HYDRA. They called him the Winter Soldier and wiped his memories. Whatever they said, he did. They controlled him like a puppet.”

    “If they completely controlled him, how did he get to be here?” You asked suspiciously.

    “Three years ago HYDRA sent him out to kill me,” Steve said, “Seeing me sparked some recognition, since we’d been childhood friends. After we battled he ran away from HYDRA. It was just last year that I finally found him again.”

    “I see.” You said, “Steve… does he remember what he– no, The Soldier – did?”

    “Yes and no.” Steve said, “The details are fuzzy for him, but he says he remembers every single person he’d hurt.”

    “Oh God…” You murmured, “That must be horrible… Remembering so many you’ve injured… Knowing it was your hands, and yet not your mind…”

    Both of you sat for a few minutes until FRIDAY interrupted.

    “Message from Sam Wilson: Has anyone found them?”

    “FRIDAY,” Steve said to her, “Please tell them that I found them.” Steve walked you to your room.

    “Lunch is planned for an hour from now,” He said, “If you still want to go with Wanda.”

    “Yeah…” You replied, “I’ll be ready by then.”

    You and Wanda ate at a little hole-in-the-wall Shawarma restaurant. Afterwards, you settled at a park and relaxed for a bit. You were seated on a bench underneath a tree and shared a bag of candied fruits. The conversation drifted from topic to topic, most of them were light, like what your favorite flavor of ice cream was.

    Eventually it drifted to the events of earlier that day. You explained the situation to Wanda, your abduction fourteen years ago and the shock of seeing him today.

    “I think I understand.” Wanda said, “You have every right to feel angry at him.”

    “I… I don’t know if I am. Angry, that is. I definitely feel something. I don't know what exactly it is.”

    “If you’re okay with it, Y/n, I could go through your mind with you.” She suggested, “I do this often when people need help figuring out emotions.”

    “No, thanks.” You said, “I’ve almost got it. I think I just need time to think.”

    “That’s normal.” Wanda reassured you, “Whatever emotions you decide you’re feeling, I assure you you’re more than within your right to feel them. Angry, sad, scared. Happy even.”

    “Really?”

    “Yeah,” She said nonchalantly, “They’re your emotions.”

    “Yeah… I guess you’re right.” You thought for a moment. “Are you going to the movie night?”

    “Of course!” Wanda said, “What about you?”

    “I think I’ll go.” 

    “That’s great, do you wanna sit by me or Steve?”

    “Depends on who’s holding the snacks.” You smiled.

    “Good point…” Wanda said, “I might have to rethink the seating arrangements…” You and Wanda hung out at the park until the bag of candied fruits was empty. The two of you drifted back to the Tower, about an hour before dinner. Sam was making dinner, and the smell guided you to the kitchen.

    “Hey Sam.” You said, “What’s cooking?” 

    “Very funny.” He grinned, adding spices to a bubbling pot. 

    “I wasn’t joking. What’s for dinner?”

    “Oh, you were serious.” Sam said, “It’s jambalaya.”

    “Cool.”

    “Anything else?” 

    “Eh.” You shrugged, and after a moment asked, “Have you talked with Steve’s friend much?”

    “Bucky? Yeah, a little.” He said, “We’ve gone on half a dozen missions together. He’s not very talkative at first, once you get to know him he’s kind of an idiot. I understand if you don’t wanna interact with him. Steve didn’t tell me exactly what happened between you two, but I know something happened.”

    “Yeah, the Winter Soldier kidnapped me when I was two.” You said, “The Soldier’s not really him, is it? So it would be mean of me to hold it against him.”

    “Trauma manifests itself in different ways,” Sam put the lid back on the pot, “If seeing his face is what sets you off, then you probably should stay away from each other. On the other hand, if knowing they’re different people is enough to make you okay with him, that’s cool too. Now scoot on out of here! I’ve got a lot of cooking to do!”

    You left the kitchen, meandered through the dining room, then went downstairs to one of the quieter living rooms. Loki, who was apparently a god, was seated in the nook by the window.

    “Hello.” He said, barely glancing up from his book.

    “Hi.” You said, “What’re you reading?”

    “Carlo Goldoni.”

    “Which one?”

    “The Servant of Two Masters.”

    “Oh cool! Antony really liked that one. He even taught me some of the lines.”

    “Anthony Stark read Goldoni?” Loki asked skeptically.

    “No, not Anthony, Antony.” You shook your head, “He was like a father to me, back when I was imprisoned.”

    “What happened to him?” Loki asked, as he marked his page and set down his book.

“Oh you know…” You shrugged, “Death got him at the battle when we escaped.”

“I’m so sorry little one.”

“Eh, not the first time I’ve lost a father-figure.” You said, tears welling up. “Has to happen sooner or later, so why not just get it out of the way?” You wiped your tears with your sleeve, since you’d failed at holding them in.

Visibly unsure what to do, Loki stood up.

“Uh. Would you like a… hug?” He finally asked. You nodded and hugged him. Loki sat back down to be eye-to-eye with you.

“Y/n,” He said, “I need you to know that your childhood has not been normal. Most people don’t have to lose their parents until they are middle-aged. You’ve lost three parents before turning 18. You’ve fought against international evils. You have been through more physical injuries than most people go through in a lifetime. You have been through more than your fair share of pain, physical and mental. You are strong.”

“Thank you.” You said. You cried a bit more. Once you stopped Loki spoke again.

“If it’s any consolation,” He said, “My sister is the Goddess of Death. I’m sure she will be welcoming to such a noble fighter as Antony was.” His tone shifted to playfully menacing, “If you ever tell Stark, my brother, or anyone else that I hugged you, I will deny it. I have a reputation to uphold.” You laughed a little, then read with him until dinnertime. 

After everyone had eaten their fill of jambalaya, and had their desert of bananas foster, they migrated to the living room. Instead of watching in one of the many movie theaters in the Tower, the living room was the chosen area. The blankets and pillows could be stacked as high as needed, and snacks were only a little ways away.

You ended up sitting on a couch between Wanda and Steve. Steve had buttered popcorn while Wanda had a bowl of gummies. The first movie was Castle in the Sky. Right before it started, you noticed Bucky walk by the door. He contemplated joining, and decided against it when he saw you.

The movie was a blast, even though the team didn’t have the best history with robots and flying cities. Especially ones that threaten to end the world. Around midnight the movies wrapped up, and you headed to bed. Stark wanted to stay up later. Ms. Potts convinced him to get some sleep. (“Anthony Howard Stark, if you don’t get to bed right this instant I will remove your access to the lab.”)

You crawled into bed but only got two and a half hours of sleep. That’s when you instinctively woke up to get water. Your legs felt like they needed a little stretch, so you walked down to the kitchen. 

Over the first two nights you had memorized the path and the room, so you didn’t need to turn on the lights until you needed to get a glass down. This meant that you didn’t see the man on the floor as you passed him by. You flicked the light on, and he sat bolt-upright.

“Ah!” You said, “Sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Bucky mumbled, “You didn’t expect to see someone in the kitchen at two thirty in the morning. I’ll leave.”

“No, it’s okay.” You said, “You’re free to go wherever you please.” He sat on the floor for a few more moments, and you drank a couple glasses of water.

“Why are you on the floor anyway?” You asked.

“Uh…” Bucky hesitated, “The bed feels too soft.” He admitted.

“Really?”

“Yeah, like I’m going to fall right through it.”

“Huh,” You shrugged, “It was the exact opposite for me. I absolutely adore everything soft and comfortable.” Silence fell, and you sat on the countertop.

“I’m sorry.” He eventually said, “I’m a monster… I’ve killed so many… Your parents, too.”

“If it’s any comfort,” You said, “You’ve never been anything but kind to me.”

“Really?” Bucky asked, “I literally killed your parents.”

“Was it really you? Steve told me about the Winter Soldier and brainwashing. At least the way he described it, they took your mind away.”

“That’s one way to describe it.”

“Do you remember abducting me?”

“I remember faces…” He said, “Not much else.”

“The Soldier pulled up outside our house, my parents were watching. They knew something was coming. They pushed me out the back door and insisted I go hide in the woods. That’s what I did. Pushed myself into a thin crevice in the rocks. While running I dropped my stuffed animal, a small elephant.

“When the Soldier found me, his eyes were empty. He couldn’t reach far enough into the cave to grab me. The elephant on the ground caught his attention, and he picked it up. For a split second there was something in his eyes and he offered it to me. He whispered ‘It’s okay, you’re okay,’ and promised me another elephant if I left the cave. I crawled towards him, his eyes went empty again, and he grabbed me.”

“So I abducted you as a small child?”

“No. The Soldier did. For that moment you had your mind, when there was something in your eyes, your first instinct was to comfort a scared child.” You both sat in silence for another moment.

“My sister was once stuck in between two houses.” Bucky recalled, “Nobody could reach her, she was terrified. Finally, I had to convince her to come out by offering her a doll.”

“That does sound awfully similar to what happened to me. Maybe that’s how you were able to break away, even if just for a moment.”

“Maybe.” 

“I forgive you.” You said, “Even if it doesn’t change anything, I can’t let you believe that I hold any of it against you.”

“Thank you.” His voice cracked. Hearing someone he’d truly hurt forgive him was different than listening to his friend say 'it wasn’t you.' There was no denial that someone had been hurt. It wasn’t a friend trying to comfort a friend. This was a real person he had deeply affected telling him it’s in the past.

You slipped off the counter and went back upstairs to bed, leaving him with a “Goodnight Bucky.”

“‘Night Y/n.” As soon as you’d turned the corner his silent tears fell. It was freeing for both of you. Forgiving and being forgiven, equally liberating, but in different ways.

Part 1, Part 3

[criminalskies]

Hi Rome! I wanted to reach out to you because I feel this is a safe space and I know it’s stupid because we don’t even really know each other but I feel like I can trust you and that I have your support. Anyway, I wanted to kind of ask for advice on my sexuality if that’s ok. I’ve been kind of questioning it the last few years but am not really sure what I identify with. I always used to think I was straight but now it feels like I don’t belong in that “category”

I don’t like s3x. I don’t find it to feel good or be fun or anything like that. I don’t mind reading smutty stuff sometimes but when it gets too descriptive, I’m out.

I mostly find men attractive, but I sometimes find women attractive as well. But I don’t really feel sexually drawn to either of them. Like the most I feel is fantasizing about holding their hand or cuddling or maybe making out but certainly nothing past that. I mean I’ve had dreams (not like fantasizing but literal night time dreams) about being with both a man or a woman, but idk if that means anything. And I’ve found that some of the people I find attractive aren’t your typical “hot” people and it thinks it’s because I might care more about who they are than what they look like? Idk

I sometimes fantasize about having a relationship, but in reality I don’t want one. I think I more just like the idea of it and how they are in books and movies, but not the real life situation. Especially when I think about being with someone all the time. I prefer to be on my own. Which I guess is why I wonder if this even really matters, but I feel like I need to know even if it’s not applied?

Anyway, sorry, I’m rambling!! I just wanted someone to discuss this with I guess and I don’t really want to go to my family yet, which is why I wanted to reach out to you (and I guess the tumblr community if you decide to answer this and it’s on your feed lol) and if you do choose to share any advice, thank you, I love you, I love your writing, and the nasty anon people who share their evil words can kindly piss off! <3

Hi baby! Let me start this off by saying there’s no reason for you to feel silly at all, I say that this account is a safe space and I really mean it. I’m glad you feel comfortable and supported by me because that’s a goal of mine to have people always feel that way on my page.

Now, I’m assuming you’re here bc you’ve seen me talk about times in my life when I’ve thought I was asexual or even aromantic? and that stays true. admittedly when you sent me this ask I went full dad mode googling the aro/ace spectrum lingo and terms to make sure I’m giving you the best information. I also researched this stuff a bunch myself because as you say it’s all a bit confusing when you feel you fall between the ‘categories’.

But that’s an important point for me to make here: asexuality and aromanticism are fluid and exist on a spectrum. All our life experiences and ups and downs and mindsets and the people in our lives can change or skew these things, and that’s okay! I don’t expect to identify the exact same way forever. Honestly, when I first learned what aro and ace were, I was a bit lost because doesn’t everybody feel like this sometimes?

So with my newfound research let me try to talk you through what you’re saying?

You don’t like sex, not fun, not desirable, that’s completely valid. I’m finding more and more myself that I maybe fall somewhere under that umbrella, but an interesting term I found online helped me here:

All the different niches of asexuality get a little confusing, but I resonate a lot with this one. I find myself with very little desire to actually partake in sex, but enjoying the fantasies or hypotheticals to be really interesting. I enjoy reading smut and even writing it once in a blue moon, but yeah, in terms of the real thing, I’m becoming increasingly unsure it’s my cup of tea.

I notice you said sometimes smut can be your cup of tea, if it’s nondescript or just implied etc, but usually isn’t. I completely understand what you mean. I think that’s a completely valid stance. You aren’t completely repulsed by sex but you’re also not aroused by it, I totally hear you!

Now you say you find yourself attracted to men and to women, but not sexually. I feel that. I fantasise about having someone to hold hands with and play with their hair, cuddle up under blankets to watch movies, all that fun jazz all the time! so it sounds to me like you’re existing somewhere on the ace spectrum, but you’re not aromantic. That is, you do feel romantic attraction, you do want a partner in some things outside of platonic life. Again! Man!!! I hear you! I want the quiet days and the running errands and having someone who knows me like the back of their hand, but I’m not sure I want that person sexually or at least not all the time.

And the people you’re attracted to, it’s less because of that primary attraction (this term comes up a lot in ace literature, it’s that feeling non-ace people get when they see someone and immediately a fire is lit in their belly, they want that person) and more because you get to know and love them as a person. You are preaching to the damn choir here.

Secondary Attraction is a term for that feeling that slowly grows over time, particularly romantic feelings for someone. It’s mostly coined by Demisexual people, which I feel like maybe you’re fitting into, only not in the sexual way, but in the romantic way. Like you might be asexual but demiromantic where all of your attraction comes from getting to know the person underneath. Sorry if it sounds like I’m making up words at this point but i think it helps to have some language to help describe how you’re feeling. But again! There’s no necessity to define these things. Just saying you’re asexual but you feel romantic attraction can cut it, or saying nothing at all is fine, too. You don’t have to fit into any little boxes sweetheart. Although it can be comforting to know that others fit into the same one, that you’re not alone. But let me tell you, you aren’t 💕💗 I’m right here and I feel you!

Now the part where you say you don’t want a forever relationship, I can understand too. Now it sounds a little like you might exist somewhere within aromantic because you don’t have that desire to have a romantic relationship. That is so okay too.

there are some ace-aro people who are referred to as greysexual or greyromantic (I know this sounds so made up but it helped me feel seen) who can feel some degree of sexual attraction or some degree of romantic attraction sometimes, but for the most part they fit under the general umbrella. Remember, time changes all. We aren’t going to be the same people we are today forever, so we can’t expect one identity to withstand the force of time alone, things change and that’s okay.

Please please remember that being ace or aro does not mean your life will be any less fulfilling than people who have partners. I know that in media, romantic love can be shown as being something a level above platonic love, but really truly your life can be just as marvellous without it my dear.

Please do not apologise for rambling, Rome loves to ramble. My inbox is always open for rambling sweetheart! I have definitely doubled the length of your ramble at this point anyways so I’ll cut to the chase. I threw a lot of labels o it there for you to try them on and see what feels right, but truly, labels aren’t a necessary part of being a human being. You are no less interesting or less important or less understood if you can’t make yourself fit into any one of these categories my love. You’re human, humans are complex and every single one is an anomaly of something. That’s what makes us so damn interesting, okay?

I see you and I understand you. Thank you for coming to me to talk about this, I hope any single thing I’ve said helps. There is no need at all to run to people with a definition of it, it’s perfectly okay to just tell them what you’ve told me, which is how you feel.

Now I love you too my sweet summer child and I’m so glad you enjoy my writing and my blog! And I agree, that anon was a whole mess but for the most part it seems to be over now. I’m so glad I didn’t disable all anon asks now though because then I never would have gotten this from you. I hope I have been of any help at all! The bottom line is you are loved and you are you. There’s no need to change that. ❤️🧡💛💚🩵💜🩷

also I have about eleven more screenshots from this site if you want them but it’s just all the terms I tried to describe.

[bieups]

11월 // November

Wow I totally forgot about this month's calendar because there's basically nothing going on...so I'm adding in a couple of socially important dates (to some of us) that aren't shown on holiday calendars~

8일 - 입동 / Ipdong: one of the 24 seasonal divisions, this day marks the beginning of winter~

16일 - 대학수학능력시험 (수능) / College Scholastic Ability Test (CSAT) aka the Suneung: 3rd (final) year high school students & graduates take this exam on the 3rd Thursday of November and it's a huge event. The exam starts at 8:40am and many schools & businesses open later to reduce morning traffic (my school will skip 1st period). There are more buses & subway trains running in the morning, and police have been known to escort test takers so everyone can arrive on time. Planes don't fly overhead during the English listening section to prevent distractions. Family members, teachers, and other high school students often stand outside the schools to cheer on the students as they go inside in the morning & when they come out in the evening. As for the test itself, there are 6 sections: Korean (국어), Math (수학), Korean History (한국사), English (영어), another foreign language/classical Chinese (제2외국어/한문), and other subjects (탐구) where students choose two options from one category: social studies (political science, ethics, etc.), sciences (biology, chemistry, etc.), and vocational education (agriculture, industry, etc.; only for vocational school students). There are also some options/elective topics within other sections, like math & Korean. So the test isn't exactly the same for all students! Only History is mandatory, but most candidates take all the sections except another foreign language. Students decide which subjects/topics to take based on their university plans. Different schools/majors expect applicants to take different subjects. If you don't get a good score, you can retake it the next year.

20일 - 서울 사립초 추첨일 / Seoul Private Elementary School Lottery Day: In Seoul, private elementary schools use a lottery system for admissions and they all do the lottery on the same day. There are a bunch of rules around applying and how the actual lottery is done. Previously, parent & child had to attend the lottery in person, which meant you had to choose one school in the end, but this year I think it'll be online and parents can choose 3 schools? Anyway, due to the lottery, private elementary schools don't have class on this day!

22일 - 소설 / Soseol: one of the 24 seasonal divisions, the day snow begins to fall~

[isa-ghost]

About how much time a day, or a week do you spend on writing your fic?

Cause I've been reading fics for years, but haven't started writing until relatively recently. I always knew in the back of my head that it took time to write and come up with the stories, but until recently I hadn't even begun to actually understand the time and energy it actually takes to write a fic. both short and long ones.

Now that I've started to think more about it, it would probably benefit fandom spaces a lot to more widely aknowledge the time it takes. It could probably help with the consumeconsumeconsume mindset of fancreations that I know that I've had, and that are present in a lot of fandoms, especially bigger ones

100% that last part, yeah.

See, for me it's even more complicated because not only am I squeezing writing between irl obligations like class, homework, work, family dinner, sleep, etc.

But I also have ADHD, so I'm battling my attention span and the temptations of my hyperfixations, as well as keeping up with my friends, fandom spaces, etc. I don't want to neglect any of those.

But focus is very difficult when I don't have absolutely nothing going on, which means I often need to shut everything completely out (which can take a lot of self control). I'll vanish on my friends and social media for hours, but still pause here and there to catch up on what I've missed for a short while before returning to writing because I HATE falling deep out of the loop and having a lot to catch up on is overwhelming. On top of that, how easily words are flowing and such also impacts how much or how long I write.

So I don't know if I have a simple or precise answer as to how long. But nonetheless, it's HOURS.

So far, for the 4 chapters that are published, I've sat down multiple days in a row OR every other day if I have time-consuming irl obligations, and written as much as I could before something depleted my motivation or I reached a good stopping point. Lately that's amounted to 1-5 paragraphs depending on the scene I'm at.

If it's something my plot plan has left more open-ended, it can take hours for me to work out how exactly I want to get to the next plot point. The Ch 3 Pissa date and stretching out the Ch 4 Eggza day was MISERABLE /lh because it was super open-ended since I wanted to give myself room to improvise, I don't like rigidly over-planning things bc a lot of the fun in writing is filling blanks between points. I get some AWESOME ideas in the moment thar aren't initially planned in my plot. For example, the foreshadowing I included in the Ch 2 nightmare where he hears Missa scream? If you check my post of my plan after I published the chapter, I pulled that out of my ass. It was originally just supposed to be a nightmare where he could hear Fit, Etoiles & Missa yelling to each other. I never planned for him to hear what's implied to be Missa injured.

But even though improvising is important (and required at some points of AMFMN), it's kinda hard to sit down and think of what to do with those parts when your hyperfixation streamer streams 3 days a week and on the days he doesn't, you have class + other things to do + other streams you refuse to miss + friends + etc etc etc and therefore you don't have a perfect distraction-free time to just go ham.

It takes a lot of self-discipline and control to not engage with stuff so I can focus on writing. And even still, depending on how cooperative my brain is that day, that can still be hours of writing.

Generally I try to chip away at least 3 paragraphs or get from one plot point to the next per day until the chapter is finished.

So TLDR; I spend hours a day, which totals to even more hours a week, working on a chapter.

It's equal parts because I get in the zone with writing and smash out a huge amount of the plot points planned for the chapter, OR I'm struggling with flow/attention span/a bunch of other things.

Due to my schedule, Tuesdays, Saturdays and Sundays are usually the best days for me to write. But even still, I have class Tuesday until close to noon, possibly other streams (curse you Sneeg and Fit /lh), work every other Saturday, family daily routine things like dinner, and the occasional plans with irl friends.

So uh. I do be battling the horrors sometimes to get chapters out. But now that Phil is finally possessed, I have a feeling I'll be breezing through things easier. I know a lot of what's happening next and I'm a whore for the drama. :3c

You have NO IDEA how much watching people scream and lose their minds over crumbs and currently published chapters motivates me. I'm so fucking excited for late game fic. Like Chapter 9 onwards. Ohohohough

[gamebird]

About a month ago, I read 'Rich Dad, Poor Dad' based on a recommendation from a friend. It had some good points and bad ones.

Good points:

It is super important for me to have discussions with my kids about how to handle money, what their options are with the money I've given them, and what that means for standard of living, activities, etc.

It is very important in people's lives to have someone advising them about money, instead of just leaving them to fend for themselves and figure it out on their own.

If you already have money (like tens or hundreds of thousands of unencumbered cash), then there are a lot of relatively low risk, low labor means to put that money to work for you and generate income. It's a lot less tedious than, say, working for a living. But you have to have the money FIRST.

The various principles laid out in the book caused me to move my money around. Now instead of retiring in 4 years and leaving nothing to my kids in inheritance unless I died early, because I'd need everything to fund my retirement, I'm going to retire end of next year and leave millions, assuming I live that long. And if I don't, then there will still be a nest egg. Same standard of living for me either way.

Bad points:

Gotdamn does this guy undersell how hard it is to get your hands on enough money to start with to do this. It takes generations and he doesn't acknowledge that.

He also undersells the value and rarity of someone giving you good advice at every turn, feeding you opportunities, and picking you up when you fall ... and never victimizing or abusing you in the process.

He makes almost no mention of the severe adversities many people find in their lives, like chronic health problems, useless or abusive partners, addiction, expensive hobbies, terrible families, bad luck, accidents, legal problems, and the like. Some of these you have a little control over; a lot of them you don't; and even with barely controllable things like partners and family you don't know its bad until its already bad and its not exactly too late at that point, but it really sucks.

So anyway, I tried to get my kids to listen to the audiobook. No dice. I found it on YouTube for free. No doing. I bought the guy's Cashflow board game. Huzzah! They played it a couple times. This let us talk about things. (I mean, I'd already tried talking to them, but trying to discuss the relative merits of savings account vs t-bills vs etfs was not making much progress.)

We talked about:

What's a mortgage and why can't I just be homeless and not pay that

Why are my expenses so high

Why are children expensive

Why do I have to pay for a loan (I was surprised and shocked they only barely understood interest rates. My inability to communicate effectively about investments made sense now. I have failed as a parent. But I'm trying to fix it.) also: why is a credit score important

What the fuck why does this boat cost so damn much?!? (the boat is the most expensive piece of shit doodad you can get saddled with in the game; I talked to them about the dangers of expensive hobbies)

OH MY FUCKING GOD I ONLY MISSED ONE PAYCHECK AND I AM RUINED (because ... yeah. that's real)

What does 'yield' mean

What's a trading range

And a bunch of other things. I also talked to them about the things the game does not include, those things I mentioned earlier like accidents, addictions, lawsuits, and health problems, or the same happening to anyone you financially support or feel beholden to, like a partner or child or possibly parent. I talked to them about the mentality of 'my savings always gets wasted on emergencies so why bother having any', which is valid and real, as well as a rational reaction to a maddingly irrational situation.

An interesting thing about the game - there's no rule for or against giving money to each other. And it makes a huge difference in propelling someone from the rat race stage of the game where you're working for a living and into the cashflow part of the game where your money is working for you instead. In the two games we played, I ended up ahead early each time (half of this I credit to good decisions while my kids were making dumb ones, even after I told them they were dumb choices; half was probably luck). But each time once I had my position secured, I started giving wads of cash to them and it was remarkable how much that improved their situation.

Kind of like real life.

I also read Bullshit Jobs a couple weeks ago and it ends with a lovely piece about the social value of universal basic income. Which, yeah. We need to do that.

[fatphobiabusters]

I'm sorry this is so long, and if something doesn't make sense or uses the wrong terms or language. I don't want to offend, and Im truly sorry if anything could be construed that way.

I've been dealing with the internalized fatphobia that comes with weight gain. (I've gained over 60lbs in the past 8 years and it was very hard to accept considering people say I've "let myself go"). I'm trying so hard to not fall into the trap of getting concerned for myself, weighing myself, feeling like a failure, vowing to eat less and exercise more, considering stopping life saving medications that cause any weight gain, etc.

It's so hard to break that habit because it's been ingrained in my brain. My mom had our whole family on diets from the time I was 7-8 (I put on a lot of weight during that time, but it was mostly so my dad didn't feel singled out because of his size and it was easier to prepare the same meals and portions for everyone). If it was a diet, we did it: blood type diet, atkins, weight watchers, eat this not that, zone, slim fast, south beach, etc. In 6th grade I lost 20 pounds and was so proud of not being "the fat kid" anymore. I mean, I hit a growth spurt and shot up to 6' almost by the end of middle school and gained some weight back, but, y'know "everything in proportion" as they say

I try so so hard to follow all the "intuitive eating" principles. I try not to restrict or assign moral labels to food and things like that. But every time I think I'm getting my self esteem back, I look at the scale and reality comes crashing down again. I feel like a failure. I can hear my mom making fun of my dad for being fat, and my dad in turn making fun of me. And the old habits come back of "I'm not going to eat this meal, and for the next meal I will have only ONE piece of cheese and a bunch of lettuce and NO bun on my hamburger, and I will write down every crumb that passes my lips and then torture myself by doing 100 situps".

I probably did a lot of harm to myself dieting throughout my childhood, but I didn't have a choice. It was eat what they made or be hungry anyway. There was no candy or cookies or delicious snacks; it was all low carb, low sugar, low fat, etc. We had chips and cake at birthday parties, and "cheat meals" on Saturdays or whenever we had a holiday and there was lasagna involved. If I did find candy or cookies or chips or something "unhealthy", I'd eat them in my room alone so nobody had to see my failure.

I just don't want to feel ashamed for all the weight I gained once I moved out and an injury made it impossible to continue doing karate 35 hours a week (or at all). I try not to make choices based on the "health" of food, but those old habits die hard, and I find myself looking at the nutrition labels and basing choices on what is the "healthiest".

How do I just accept the fact that I'm going to be a larger person and it's ok? A lot of people in my life see it as a moral failing (my dad and sister and aunt all got gastric sleeve surgery so now I'm the heavy one they can all pick on. Or rather, I make the fat jokes about myself to beat them to it). Even my husband is concerned about what I weigh, and doesn't want me to be unhealthy (I know he means well, but I didn't really feel like going into all the research with him. He can read it on his own). Did my mom permanently fuck up my metabolism by putting us all on diets as children? Am I doomed to have to spend the rest of my life undoing all this damage? Will I ever get over the feeling that every little bit of weight I put on is a moral failing? And I wonder if I'll ever be able to accept my body for how it is now instead of how it was when I was 17 and did nothing but teach karate and eat lettuce wraps and was still somehow "overweight" (at 5'11" and 162lbs! BMI had me thinking that was an abomination and that I was so large and how dare I weigh so much).

I'm sorry, I don't really know where I was going with this. I guess I just needed to ask if I'll ever be able to accept myself at my larger size and not feel like I have to starve myself and overexert myself every time I eat a cookie and then step on the scale and see I've gained 0.1 pound. If I'll ever have a healthy relationship with food, or if I'm doomed to be fucked because of childhood.

Do you or your followers have a similar experience, with having to go through disordered eating as a kid and paying the mental price for it as an adult and trying to pick up the pieces and accept themself for who they are?

First get rid of the scale. It doesn't do you any good.

Second, I don't think you'll be fighting this hard forever, Intuitive Eating is a skill with practice it'll get easier. It's like a muscle.

Third, boundaries. Make it clear that you won't be taking these jokes anymore, you won't make those jokes anymore and make sure your hubby is reading the material. With abusive people like your family you need support. Tbh when my mom starts saying rude things I say rude things back. People who say things without thinking are like dogs, you can't train them after the fact. If the dog pees on the carpet you have to deal with it then so the dog understands. You'll be the "wet blanket" but you deserve your boundaries and people who try to make you feel like shit, then get mad that you don't take it are assholes.

Fourth, I don't know if your mom fucked up your metabolism for sure. Regardless it sounded like you had the genes for which makes the abuse even more rancid imo. When we as adults have to live with the fucked up stuff our parents put us through it's a lot of healing especially if they don't think they did anything wrong. If you can try looking into therapy. You need to be able to feel like you completely own your body, your right to look anyway you do. It's a type of situation where you'll work on finding peace for yourself and forgiveness doesn't have to happen. And you can be at peace but then you get set off and are reliving stuff, it's a hard but good work (its a cycle is what i mean, and youll get better at working through it). You deserve to exist. Right now. No regrets, no apologies.

Fifth, I always suggest mediation practices. The skill of learning to have thoughts and removing their emotional impact is important. Our first thoughts aren't always useful, authentic or productive. This comic helps explain: https://brytning.tumblr.com/post/678122968160862208/self-care-sunday-does-anyone-else-feel-like-they

I have really bad depression and I do have medication that helps but practicing stopping and letting cycling thoughts go was super important. Tbh I do this type of letting go without meditating positions or what have you. This type of thought watching and releasing is something you do while out and about. When I hear fatphobic shit from my mom I've let it wash over me because her miserable brain is her problem. Just like your family has to carry their self hate, it's not your baggage. This also gets easier with time.

Sixth, take comfort in the fact that all bodies change. You aren't 17 anymore, you shouldn't be that person anymore. You are wiser and working on being happier! Getting older is hard no matter your size so you have some common ground. You mourn, you bury and you try your best to learn about the you that is alive today.

Seventh, I primarily pick food based on texture. So I don't have a great advice for labels and food guilt. You literally have to stop reading labels. End of story. Pretend it's in a language you don't understand.

Eigth, you didn't mention this but if you are holding onto clothes that don't fit, get rid of them. They aren't worth holding onto. Find clothes and styles you like that fit. The past is in the past and keeping clothes you can't wear is self harm.

[kazumiwrites-fanfiction]

Amnesia

REQUEST: Can you write a Sugawara X Fem Reader FanFic (angsty), in which the reader and Sugawara are dating, and something happens, like an accident, and he ends up losing his memory. So Y/N tries to help him get back his memory by visiting him every day and telling him about all the things they did together. One day, Suga does regain his memory… But it's right before he dies. It's just a rough idea but I hope you can do something!! ^^3~ -ceil <3

SUMMARY: Sugawara got into a car crash, and you, as his significant other, need to be there for him; however, he doesn't have his memory. What're you going to do when he doesn't remember anything? WORD COUNT: 1.1k

WARNINGS: Character death, hurt, angst in general, amnesia. (Not really fem reader)

A/N: When you spend class hours just looking through sites about amnesia and causes so this could be somewhat medically accurate but in a vague way- ahaha- totally not me (guilty) And I totally don't have a bunch of research on my school computer about whether or not amnesia causes death- uhm- why would you think that- Also, yes I did give him a nickname, 'Kou,' because that's cute (also because 'Kou-chan' would be cute to say, although I didn't write it in lmao-)

A/N PART 2: Also- if you were curious, part of a song inspired this (it's in Spanish though so uh-) 'Amnesia' by Señor Wooly.

A/N PART 3: Originally posted here.

© kazumiwrites - All rights reserved; please do not steal, edit, copy, repost (etc) my work without my express permission.

You didn't expect this to happen. Of course, why would you? It was unprecedented. How was it possible that he'd get into a traffic accIt? Why would he get hurt in something like this?

You heard all the details afterward… And you weren't sure what to think. He was such a good driver… Why did it have to happen to him? He had done nothing. He was just stopped at a red light when a driver hurtled in to his car. At least Kou didn't die… But still. He lost his memories.

When you asked the doctor about how long the amnesia would last, the doctor only shook his head. He didn't know. "Retrograde amnesia," he called it. It meant that he didn't remember anything from before the… Accident.

You sighed softly as you gently rubbed his hand, forcing yourself to smile as you looked into his beautiful brown eyes. "Well, I remember the first date we had, it was really fun. You took me to the park, and I remember we watched some birds a bit. It was amazing…" You smiled a little more, eyes softening as you remembered the day.

It was a bright and sunny day, a perfect day for a date, in your opinion. When you got a bit chilly, Kou wrapped his arms around you and gave you his jacket, as well, despite protests that he'd get sick later. Which, he did get sick… You took care of him after that.

Still… It almost hurt to have him right there, and not be able to remember anything. The doctors had warned you that telling him about his life wouldn't help, but neither you nor his family would stop it, hoping that he'd eventually get all of his memory back.

You listened to the steady beeping of the heart monitor as you watched over him, letting out a soft yawn. You really were tired…

You soon drifted off. You had been staying awake for long bouts of time, after all; of course you'd fall asleep. You had forgotten to take care of yourself, unless Koushi gently told you to get some rest or eat or something.

Koushi just watched you quietly, smiling a little. This person… You were really sweet. To care for him this much… It was all he ever wanted. He watched you, then sighed softly. Still, why did you care for him so much…? He wasn't sure. Why couldn't you just move on?

He let out a soft sigh, gently brushing a hand over your hair, smoothing it. He hated that you were still waiting for him… Family, he could get. But what did you have to keep you attached? You could start dating some other guy who would love you for who you were; not him, who barely even knew you anymore. What was the point, really?

He frowned softly as he closed his eyes, letting himself drift off as well.

When Koushi woke up, he felt… Different. What was it? His head hurt… But that was okay. He thought it was, at least. He blinked slightly as he saw you, you… And all the memories came back. He held his head a little, biting back a small noise.

You stirred slightly, then eyes widened as you saw his state, moving closer and wrapping your arms around him and holding him close. "Shh…" You murmured softly, comfortingly, as you called to a nurse for help.

The nurse quickly came in, starting to check him up and moving you away from him. "I-" You got out, eyes wide. You didn't want to leave his side at all.

Koushi watched you, biting his lip. Would this be too cruel to say…? But he had to say it. "I- I remember, [Y/N], I remember everything…!" Those were his last words, his last effort to say anything before he lost consciousness. He looked so peaceful, though… Now that he had reassured you that he remembered.

You hated it, however. What was going on? What- why did he pass out? Was this normal, for a person with amnesia? Before you knew it, doctors were rushing him to another room… Maybe the emergency room? You weren't sure. With shaky hands, you called his mother; it was honestly surprising that she understood you, since you were blubbering and you almost dropped your phone a few times, but she got the message.

After that was done, all you could do was wait… You felt Koushi's mother come in, she was almost a parent to you. You leaned in to her touch as she wrapped an arm around you, rubbing your shoulder gently as you both waited for the news.

After around… An hour? You weren't sure, you hadn't been keeping track. Anyway, the doctor came in, knocking on the doorframe a little before stepping in. You heard the small gasp before a choked sob escaped the woman beside you, but you just stared up at the doctor, at his shaking head, not understanding. His words about a "brain hematoma" and "I'm sorry for your loss, Sugawara Koushi is dead," as well as head shaking, didn't register in your brain until a couple seconds later.

Your eyes were wide, before you started sobbing, small choked noises escaping you as you clung to his mother, both of you hugging each other tightly. Why… He had just remembered, so why did he have to die…? Maybe the doctor had got the wrong room? No, he called Kou by his name… You hadn't even been able to say one last "I love you." What was this world you lived in… Where people could die, just like that? You sighed shakily, sniffling as you pulled away from Koushi's mother, rubbing your eyes a little to try to calm yourself down. He wouldn't want you to be like this… You knew that. But, still… You weren't sure how you could live through this.

A couple years later.

You sighed softly as you walked to Koushi's grave, holding the black roses in your hands. You moved to rest the flowers on his grave, crouching down and resting your hand on his headstone and rubbing it gently. "I really do miss you… But life moves on." You glanced back at the car waiting outside the graveyard, eyes softening a little as you did so before looking back at the headstone.

"I hope you've moved on as well… Especially so that you don't become lonely. I don't want you to be like that…" You paused slightly. "I hope we can talk when we can see each other again." You smiled a little more, rubbing the headstone a bit more before letting go, walking out of the graveyard, glancing up to look at the sky. You really did hope he was happy… You hoped he was happy that you were moving on, as well. You let out a soft sigh, starting to walk faster as you went to the car.

(Links that I used for this: Brain&Life and Warren and Simpson)

[veryquietclown]

quick QJ headcannons

since i can’t fall asleep

he knows how to sew! that’s how he made his outfit

adding onto the hc he sometimes fixes megavolt’s outfit if it gets a rip or something

jesters are a special interest of his! if you ask him about jesters he will infodump about every single piece of info about them

he has a degree in psychology

his family was known for being psychologists,doctors,etc so he felt like he had to be one of those jobs that’s why he studied psychology

his parents were very strict and didn’t enjoy him “playing with toys at such a old age” after he turned like 10

he learned a lot of different things because of his family

he is a only child

his grandparents, and his grand grand parents, and his grand grand grand parents and literally just the rest of the family besides his parents spoiled him badly since “he’s just such a great kid”

his parents didn’t enjoy him being spoiled since everytime he went out with his grandparents or whoever he would always come back with a bag or two of whatever he wanted or gifts

this lead to QJ spoiling others as a love (romantic and platonic) language

this ALSO lead to him believing people will always get him something if they go shopping or something

can’t sleep without background noise if there’s no background music or something he will start making noise himself usually by humming,singing,rolling around in bed,literally anything for some noise

he actually sings pretty well it’s not hollywood good but it’s good for a lullaby or two

he is a really good artist with design and can whip out a few blueprints for toys in minute’s but can’t draw people very well

is extremely good with kids literally can figure out what a crying baby wants immediately

physical touch lover, he will give hugs,hold hands,give a piggy back ride,headpats literally any kind of physical touch to anyone

doesn’t find physical touch romantic at all so usually gets confused when someone thinks he’s flirting when he wants to hold hands or hug

not good with understanding peoples personal space

sometimes when he wants a hug he just puts his hands out and makes grabby hands (not self projecting with this one totally /j)

def neurodivergent you can’t tell me otherwise

he hates all kinds of video games because of whiffle boy but after megavolt begs him to play some video games with him since megs is a hardcore video game lover and ends up enjoying certain video games

he always picks up megavolt whenever even during a scheme like imagine they’re in the middle of running away from darkwing and quackerjack just scoops megavolt up and megavolt just acts like nothing is happening (i will probably write more about this headcannon later)

when nobody is around he cusses a looot, he’s used to not cussing around everyone since in the past he used to be surrounded by kids so he usually just doesn’t cuss around people and it most of the time makes people believe he doesn’t cuss

idk i think this is technically cannon but i wanna describe how i imagine QJ’s main toy warehouse home is like, i like to imagine the walls and floors are grey but there’s a lot of paintings on the walls painted by QJ usually being his friends,crime ideas or toys! he has a bouncy house he relaxes in, he has a big bed with a bunch of plushies like a bunch bunch, his bathroom is filled with rubberduckies. that’s all i’m gonna share abt how i imagine it in this post

he has a corner full of sketchbooks filled with drawings

he really loves energy drinks but hates coffee

he doesn’t have the best sleeping schedule, he usually stays up for like 3 days before he finally falls asleep

whenever QJ visits megavolt megavolt makes him go to bed at like 10pm or like immediately after they get back from committing crimes and it’s late

that’s all i’m gonna share rn! my fingers are getting sore from typing hghgh def gonna share some more QJ headcannons later when i’m more awake also you can see my quackerjack and megavolt headcannons as platonic or romantic i don’t really mind!

[bookwyrminspiration]

What do you think will happen if Oralie's secret is revealed? Especially if Sophie accidentally reveals it by like her and Oralie where in a public argument and her without thinking shouting something like:

"Just because you're my biological mother doesn't mean your my mom!"

I think it depends on how it's revealed, like you said. If it's a minor slip, like Sophie grumbles something without thinking among the company of her friends/family, then I think they'd agree to keep quiet for everyone's sake when she starts frantically backtracking.

If that slip up had the council in hearing range, I think a bit of a fight would break out between them all. But that once everyone stops yelling, they'd stay silent for the sake of the elven world--at least that's what they'd agree to. They'd agree not to say anything for now until their world is more stable and can handle that kind of drama, then they'd make it public and take the necessary action.

However, I could also 100% see like Alina or someone similar leaking that info to the public despite that agreement, meaning they have to deal with it now and their world is made more unstable. Trust in the council falls even lower (they were trying to keep it secret! what else are they hiding?), shift in power, the Neverseen/Gisela may take advantage, etc.

Then there's if there's a very public "just because you're my bio mother doesn't mean you're my mom" scene, which I think would have elements of the prior leak example. Loosing faith in the council--but in this case the council wouldn't know, so they're wouldn't be the "they tried to hide it!" outrage--new elections, potential for Neverseen/Gisela to take advantage. I think the main difference here is that Sophie would hardcore blame herself for everything that happens afterwards, because if only she'd held her tongue nothing would've happened. Even if she was the one to slip up in earlier examples, the damage was limited and controlled. Here, it's all out in the open and she's going to take that on herself.

I'm actually curious whether this knowledge will be made public in the series, as on the one hand, in a story you typically make the worst of the worst happen to your characters. But this story isn't about Oralie, and Sophie already has a bunch of other things going on. Is there enough time in the series to address a bio mom scandal properly? Or will that be saved for her bio dad? Or will that not happen at all given aforementioned time restraints?

Anyway, I think there's many possibilities!

[freedfromthegalactichivemind]

I just finished a slew of fanfictions to be released later.   Anyway, while I was working on them, I came across this Youtube analysis of J.K. Rowling that I was watching / listening to of all things.  I was never much into Harry Potter.  I saw the movies like most people in this wide world, but I never read the books.  It just wasn’t something I ever got into.  It was tailored to a younger crowd than I was at the time, it was a bit overhyped, etc. Or maybe I just have an aversion to most things that take place in a school-heavy environment because I am still traumatized from being the Weird Kid.  Whatever. I still find myself interested in media analysis of the work in regards to the fall of the author in the public eye, how she went from progressive icon to cancelled.   The guy doing the media analysis was a cis gay man who was a big fan and spoke of how it helped him form his identity as a kid, even helped him in his journey to come out, and while he is not trans, he knew trans people who had a similar journey, and therefore everything going on with Rowling feels like a betrayal.  I’ve personally wondered “was this always even there with her, beneath the surface?  Or are her Terfy-views entirely new?  After all, people do change, their worldviews included, sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse.  I mean, the me of 15-20 years ago was an obnoxious evangelical and a lot of my current views couldn’t be more different. I went from conservative --> progressive, utterly sincerely and I think that the opposite can happen, too, people being sincere progressive ---> conservative, because we’re all a bunch of humans and no one and nothing is completely “pure.” Maybe the person who wrote those books really was a completely different person than the one who exists now, holding the authorship rights.   Anyway, since this is a She-Ra fan blog... getting to the point.  Watching this media analysis made me think about how I feel like I have an advantage in certain fandoms I choose to be in, and what seems to choose me.   Harry Potter fans, by and large, seem to have the inability to divorce the story from the author.  This is a fundamental part of how the story is set up.  The books have a single origin-point, this specific author. Films and games and other media are a group-effort, but they all center back to the origin-point of a single author.  The story is inexorably tied to one person, so anyone who is in fandom for it - even if they’re making their own art and stories from it, have to process the fundamental truth of a single origin-point of the thing they’re doing their own derivatives of.   The analysis I watched made no judgement on how people process their grief, as it were.  The host said that he’ll spend no more money on the franchise, but that he’s not giving up his enjoyment of what he once loved and already has.  He knows others the same way - people who refuse to let even the author herself take the good thing they enjoyed away from them. Some, of course, choose not to engage.   I spared a brief thought to “What if someone on the She-Ra crew did something that I thought was really awful?”   And that’s when I realized some of them have.  Not J.K. Rowling levels - obviously, the entire show is incompatible with that.  There are actual trans characters, gay characters, racially diverse characters, disabled characters - they can’t do much that’s really anti-progressive.  But... a few of the creators have said things that I know some of the fans have found off-color... I remember a fiasco when one of the voice actors on Twitter made a joke about Entrapta working for Trump because she’d want to be in the Space Force and she just got reamed by the fans over that.  (She seemed to have forgotten that Entrapta is not white, for one thing).  Then there was the debacle where a joke was made about Bow’s family in the writer’s room that came out in an interview that seemed to me like it was “innocent, but tone-deaf” - like it wasn’t meant as awful, it just “You weren’t thinking, were you?”   In-series, on-screen, the “Let’s leash Entrapta, the confirmed character with autism” joke was...um...it was a thing.  And yet, I’m here, in a fandom, doing fanwork, unbothered by it for the most part because... I think it’s because Spop isn’t tied to a single vision.  It was a group-effort with many writers, a director that conferred with the writers, character designers and story-boarders who eventually got their storyboard running gags into the series (I heard that Rogelio x Kyle wasn’t originally going to be a thing until it became a story-board crew’s running thing).  The writers, artists, voice actors, etc. all had different takes on what they were doing, and to boot, the whole thing was a derivative-property to begin with, a reboot-adaptation of something that existed before some of them were even born.  (I think a lot of the Crew-Ra are younger than my nostalgic and modern-animation loving ass).   Enjoying this property isn’t as much intrinsically tied for me into any single-point origin.  Some people treat it as “N.D.’s vision,” but I divorce it a little from even him, because he didn’t handle all of the story aspects.  (In particular, I’ve heard that he wasn’t much interested in dealing with Hordak, so much of Hordak’s arc was handled by others).  My “side” of the fandom has taken this football and run because we know that the “main creator” wasn’t really the “parent” to our blorbos, that Entrapta and Hordak were largely handled by others on the crew.  So, you know, there’s just not this worshipful “my creator must do no wrong” thing for me at all.  It’s almost like Death of the Author is particularly strong with this property.  I am very much an advocate for Authorial Rights - like, if an author says “my work means this” that fans should listen.  I mostly am into this because I do original work, myself - not that I’m ever going to become well-known, and I just...really, really don’t want far-right bozos pretending my work means something it doesn’t and adopting it as their own, which happens to way too many authors.  (That poor guy who made the frog cartoon even tried to kill the frog off in story, but people still did their own thing with the image and I just feel sorry for the guy).  At the same time, I do believe in a degree of Death of the Author, because, obviously, I write fanfiction and create my own stories, and sometimes my own stories are really off-the-wall of the canon, and purposefully so.   A couple of my upcoming collection stories have... “Ugh, I know that this plotline is so out of character for Etheria, I honestly don’t think it would happen if canon continued beyond a certain point, but I need to include it to make MY plot work!”    I guess I just want to say that I have an easy time of this in fandom because I seem to become most enamored with fandoms that really are “group effort” and are generally cooperate / collective-owned from the get-go with no One Shining Idol-Person to put on a pedestal.  Zelda is a big fandom for me, too, and it’s like that.  In fact that property has some Ship of Theseus shit going on with changing crew working on it over the 30+ years the games have been a thing.   I just wonder if it’s easier to “divorce creator from fandom so you can ignore problematic creator-bullshit” is just easier to do if you know that the base canon has tons of fingerprints from lots of different creators on it.  

[oogalaboogalabich]

Goddammit that kiss got me sick. I cant stop feekin dyin o typhus long enough to do anything productive so here.

I built the AU Astarion from my kinkfic and im runnin him as an abberant mind mage.

This backstory is entirely off the rails of canon. So effin self indulgent. I apologise for nothing.

Astarion in this AU met Cazador a few years earlier, barely weeks after the guy commited Vampire Patricide. Cazador just up and tried to go for it, nearly ripped Astarions throat out and scared him off so bad the elf skips town.

Ends up in the underdark and finds himself hanging out with a bunch of pirates for a few decades. Almost immediately after marrying this noteably redheaded crewmate ("she had a penchent for silk ropes and putting twats in their place") their crew gets fucked by a new ring of slavers. He doesnt actually know how long he was with them, but hes narrowed it down to almost two years on that ship before being sold to a house in the underdark. He escaped fairly quickly from there, helped by an unusually large druid, whod been their captive long before astarion arrived.

He gets an escort back to his family home, where he learns hes a little past overdue for his coming of age.

After all hes experienced, and a mind freshly robbed of any comfort or escape his previous lives used to bring him in reverie, he doesnt much care about picking a new name. Something he knew would come off as practically sacrelidge to certain parties.

In the end he picks "Astarius" as his adult name to avoid the trouble of getting used to something new. Its a bit ambitious in nature, and the drama behind "God of Stars" pleased his father well enough.

He spends a brief time trying to heal himself with a group of gith monks who have taken over an old lethanderan temple.

But when their methods dont quite work for him, he falls back into pirating, though he acts as more of a legal advisor and launderer these days.

He was about 200 when he simultaniously opened two practices. One in Waterdeep, the other in Immurks Hold. He found it invigorating having to juggle the Immurk Code of Conduct and the laws of Waterdeep.

He found hed gotten over most of his developed fears through the fairly prominant presence of vampire Lord Artor Morlin in his dealings. Though always under the pseudonym of different mercantile captains, which Astarius thought to be very funny.

He was on a business trip in the underdark near Waterdeep when the events of baldurs gate 3 take place.

No matter where he goes, everywhere in the underdark is suddenly swarming with illithids, and its even worse up on the surface. The world is in shambles, theres nothing left after a mere few months. The world made utterly barren, the soil salted and waters poisoned.

The animals die off, the people left behind are systematically rounded up and slaughtered or turned.

Less than a decade later the last bastion (at least in faerun) is ironically Menzoberranzan, where Astarius is forced to return. But when he arrives, people have for the most part let go of the prejeduces that ruled them. Its a fairly plesant place to live for the year or so it survived after his arrival.

He didnt stay for a fight when they heard the illithids were finally going to launch an attack on them directly. Almost nobody stayed in the end. And an attack never came.

For whatever reason. They all just...left. all the illithids gathered in their nautiloids and left the planet behind.

The few hundreds, maybe a few thousand people left on Torill spread out. Even with nothing fit to grow or drink naturally, they still get by with magic if they are lucky, summon creatures and glean vegitation from other planes etc.

Until Magic ceases to exist. After four or five years. It just...stops happening. Something or someone has killed Mystra again. And this time it doesnt come back.

Devils have stopped answering summons, or showing up at all. Warlocks are the last to lose their powers.

Astarius survives because he must. And instead of being content to live in this barren waste of a planet, he sets to work on finding a way out. Either off the planet, into a new world. To the astral plane for all he fucking cared.

Somewhere...anywhere but here.

Hes nearly 400 by the time he makes an ounce of headway.

Near the dregs of what was once reithwith town, he finds a crypt nearly untouched by the desolation of time, and even deeper still, lay the literal gauntlet of bloody shar.

Most importantly theres meat. Actual real food that isnt insects or what few digusting plants can still grow.

An entire colony of rats to live off of for as long as he can keep them breeding faster than he, or they, can eat.

He lives in what he jokingly calls "squalid luxury" for days, exploring and narrowly escaping death a few times. Shar was still ever present. Of course she would be. Torill was perfect for her now.

Theres one area he avoids simply because of the rank stench, but eventually curiosity gets the better of him.

And there...near a pile of corpses deep within the temple, he finds a polyhedron relic, covered in what was clearly tir su script...

[actuallyitsstar]

🫓 What is your most popular fic?

🥘 What category do most of your fics fall under?

🍛 Have any comments, tags or reactions to one of your fics every made you laugh or cry or both?

🍢 Have you ever gotten hate on a fic?

🍣 What helps you focus or get in the mood to write?

🍥 What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

✨ send me an emoji and ask me about my fanfic! ✨

🫓 : what is your most popular fic?

this is most certainly time takes no prisoners (you'll see). very much hands down, very much no contest lol 😅

🥘: what category do most of your fics fall under?

found family lol. what can i say. something about it does in fact hit different for me. i always want more and the brainrot is never ending and it's arguably not the most popular fic genre, so when i run out of content in the fandom of choice atm, i start making my own lol

🍛: have any comments, tags or reactions to one of your fics every made you laugh or cry or both?

well, yes, for starters, several of yours!! 💗 like when someone leaves a nice/heartfelt and/or detailed comment on my silly little fics i am quite LITERALLY screaming crying (and only metaphorically throwing up) about it. that shit does in fact mean the most to me and i wouldn't push myself to actually try and do things i don't feel very good at if people did not seem to want me to do it, so when people feel Some Type of Way after reading something i wrote that is the ultimate goal. i wouldn't write stuff if i didn't want whoever's reading it to connect with and remember it, so i connect just as much back when they do!

🍢 : have you ever gotten hate on a fic?

thankfully i actually haven't yet!

🍣 : what helps you focus or get in the mood to write?

oof tbh i think me being ~in the mood to write~ is controlled by the whims of deities interested only in toying with me 😭😭 ive learned that even if i am not exactly in the mood i have to just Do it. and eventually i will either stop bc im like wow everything i am writing right now absolutely sucks! or i will get into it and figure out a whole bunch of shit and write 5k words. there is basically no in between lmao

🍥 : what’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

this is also gonna have to be time takes no prisoners. it is kind of a big first fic for me- longest, first top gun fic, first fic to rly get comments or kudos, most chapters, fic i am the most proud of, first series based work, etc etc- and the story (though obviously not my own, as it IS just a retelling of largely canonical events i can't take any credit for) means the absolute world to me. it's probably going to wind up being my fanfic magnum opus lol. it is always gonna hold a special place in my heart. i just adore this fandom and these characters and i just akdhdjhfjfhf love everything about the whole mav-is-bradleys-dad shit and the by extension found-family-w-people-mav-knows shit. it is just major *chefs kiss* for me <3

if i needed to give a more creative answer in the pre ttnp timeline (bc that is how it feels sometimes lol. there is pre and post ttnp/top gun brainrot and nothing in between), i'd have probably said all this effort to make it look effortless, which was the first writing of any kind i had done since like 2018 or something idk. i wrote and posted it last year, not too long before i began to write ttnp (it was actually right before i saw tgm at all), and it's for the world's most obscure fandom and it's very very self indulgent and i rly did just write it for myself, there's like under 50 fics in that fandom and mine has less hits than that lol. but i was and am very proud of it! (tho w the hindsight of rereading i hate the formatting so much god learn to use paragraph breaks what is wrong with you aaaaaaa).

[diaryoftherest]

Diary Entry 1- On Being 25 and Trying

On the morning of my 25th birthday, I woke up to a text from Honey, my cousin who had just started her first year at college the following year. 

“Happy 25, G,” she said with the unemotional but aptly placed heart emoji acting as a period. “Halfway through twenty! I hope these next five years treat you right.” 

It was a message that only a nineteen-year-old still in love with the world could send: a birthday message with subtle optimism but undertones of foreboding in the blue spaces of the iPhone messages subtext. I was already on the fence about how to spend that birthday. 

The previous night, I went out with Eva, my best friend from high school and the most beautiful and loyal texter I have ever known. She took me to dinner which led to drinks with her friends, then to drinks with her girlfriend's friends, and then I was hungover and crawling to meet my brother and mother for the birthday brunch they organized, and that I could not appear late for. I was only in Chicago for two weeks, visiting family and friends. This was my first day in those two weeks and I was already sweating Vodka on public transit, an ex-party-girl-style mess.

This was not how I wanted to start twenty-five. I decided on my panicked jog to the restaurant that I wouldn’t drink for the rest of the day. I would stick to nothing harder than kombucha and I would go back to the Southern-California-occasional-sober lifestyle that I had adopted since moving to LA the previous fall. 

My outlook changed when I got that message from Honey.

I promptly ordered a gin and tonic when I met my mother at the bar. 

It took me a second to unpack why this silly message hit me like a cartoon anvil from the heavens but I’ve realized, after two months of realizations, that I am scared of a few things (spiders, snakes, etc) but most notably: aging. 

I’m not scared of aging in the “don’t-let-me-turn-thirty-I’d-rather-vomit” way. I think that style of thinking is a patriarchal reminder that women’s value is tied to their looks which is tied to their skin which is tied to their age which is ranked by golf terms in that you lose points or get worse as the numbers go up. I don’t want to cling to that sexist, pre-Barbie-movie style of thinking or rhetoric. I am not scared of thirty.

I am scared of aging in that I’m scared all of this will end and all I’ll have to show for it is a bunch of unanswered questions. 

What is the next part of my twenties? If my life is broken down into five-year intervals like my nineteen-year-old cousin swears that it is, will it be the same as last year or different? Is twenty-five to thirty just as sticky and winding as twenty to twenty-five? Is anyone going to help me with this existential crisis or do I have to handle it on my own? Is anyone even going to read these questions? Fuck me if they do. 

In short, I am terrified of the rest. 

If life is a highway then my early twenties were a traffic jam. It was like I had somewhere to be, but every time I tried to get going, I saw brake lights. I tried to get things moving by moving myself across the country twice. I accepted every sexy, fashionable job that came my way, bought blazers but kept the hot pants and tiny tops, and had frequent one-night stands the way Carrie Bradshaw would have wanted. Still, I was doing nothing. I got up for work every morning, even when my job was remote and I could have worked lying down and gone to sleep every night, and that was all I had for a few years. Meanwhile, everyone I knew was getting engaged or married or fucked by a guy named Jake. 

SIDE NOTE TO SELF: Research how many Jakes there can possibly be in the world. Are single men always named Jake? Are there that many Jakes in the world? Are we all always dating them?

I know all of this reads like babbles. The easiest response to all of it is to go see a licensed medical professional but I already know what they would say. If I approached a therapist, they would hit me with a simple but familiar response: it’s a quarter-life crisis. This is all existentialism, boiled down and dispensed to me from the pulsing anxiety that lives behind my eyes. I shouldn’t make too many decisions right now. In other words, a therapist would tell me to refrain from buying a sportscar or moving back in with my parents; they would tell me to let this wave ride. 

While all of that is true, a reminder that the only constant in life is to sit tight while things change, I can’t help but wonder if I had the opportunity to put myself out there more, to get myself out of my head and onto a page last year, then maybe I wouldn’t be running from one way of thinking to another. Maybe I wouldn’t have been twenty minutes late to my own birthday brunch. Maybe I would have been able to express something deeper by now. 

So, I’ve made a pact with myself. I’ll encapsulate myself, each week, into a diary entry. I’ll look back on it when I reach the next halfway point and maybe then I’ll be able to make sense of some things. 

If not, that’s ok. I have five years to figure it all out after all, according to a nineteen-year-old.