#work was godawful absolute shit again

[ijltln]

I'm so sick of this besties

[beelzeballing]

actually i dont think ive posted my thoughts on ofmd s2 overall here yet have i?

ok here goes: i think it had incredibly high highs, and at some parts i genuinely enjoyed it more than i did the first season, episode 6 being peak imo. however, it had equally abysmal lows with some glaring writing-, tone- and pacing issues that all came to a head in the finale.

i once read someone say that, if you ever feel like a finale ruined the whole story, maybe you should take another look at the story. there were most likely cracks and problems all along, and the finale did nothing besides dashing the hope that these would perhaps be addressed later. very rarely do genuinely well written stories go completely off the rails in the finale and ruin the whole thing.

i think this is applicable here in some ways, SPECIFICALLY in regards to edward. good god edward was a MESS this season, and it's so sad because i loved the starting point! the kraken era was absolutely terrifying and iconic as FUCK but... they shouldn't have leaned so hard into the drama and trauma of it all. don't get me wrong, i loved that it did. it's one of my favorite parts of the season and i'm so glad we got it. but if they wanted this arc to work with the overarching plot as they wrote it, they would've had to lighten up the tone here CONSIDERABLY. had they played the kraken era for comedy then sure! edward's bad youtuber apology would've been funny. his fast redemption would've been less jarring. the lack of consequences less disturbing. but as it stands in the show, this arc is too dark to function with the later episodes.

i feel like they wanted to have their cake and eat it too here. they wanted the gritty drama of ed coming off the hinges entirely but also didn't want to deal with the aftermath of such a heavy arc in their silly pirate romcom. be that due to time constraints and budget cuts or because they were simply unwilling to, doesn't really matter in the end. the result is the same either way: a very tonally messy season with some accidentally troubling implications regarding abuse.

and mentioning troubling implications regarding abuse; izzy. my poor, poor izzy... his arc was absolutely glorious. i liked izzy the second he showed up in s1 and i was absolutely EATING this season up in that regard. and i think in this case, they genuinely did fuck it all up in the finale with that one stupid choice:

choosing to kill izzy was the DUMBEST thing they couldve done here.

ive talked about this over and over and over again. ive reblogged so many meta posts. and still i am left absolutely flabbergasted by how stupid of a decision this was. the fridging, playing at the fallen woman trope, killing the beating heart of the season and the character who delivers what is essentially a thesis statement, killing off the character whose arc is about coming to terms with his disability, having him die in edward's arms, comforting him and apologizing after an entire season of finding community and love outside of edward, the absolutely godawful pacing of it all, the extremely easy and obvious solution of just having IZZY become the new captain of the revenge to mirror s1 and hammer home how much he has developed since then in one go... i could go on. and i have. it was a stupid writing decision, completely fucked the tone and pacing of the finale and took away attention and time from things that really would've deserved a better wrap up (lucius and black pete deserved better)

now. the whole prince ricky & zheng plot line... yeah that shit sucked ass, sorry. they bit off more than they could chew here. i honestly think those are the arc words of this season:

✨️ bit off more than they could chew ✨️

right off the bat: i think he was good as a concept. bringing in a foil for stede who just doesn't Get It as stede does could've made for very good comedy and drama (and to be fair there is some of that). but that shit got away from them extremely quickly. nothing about how he's implemented past his first episode works, and i think this is very specifically because he's mostly played as the comic relief in his debut episode. making this completely bumbling fool, who gets his nose hacked off on his first job, the main villain of your entire season is... definitely a choice. idk. he didn't work for me at all.

ok wow mentioning shit getting away from the writers. this definitely got away from me. this was supposed to be a short lil post. well. i guess tl;dr i loved this season but jesus christ there was a lot wrong with it. if you want to hear more thoughts. ask box is open. be my guest. i have more to say so even if you dont ask i might add more to this at some point but im tired and have work tmrw.

[laundrybiscuits]

Will’s looking at him with those tragic eyes, this kid who’s almost as tall as Eddie but seems centuries younger, infinitely more fragile and breakable. And shit, Eddie is not at all prepared to be some kind of queer mentor. He’s barely keeping his head above water with Robin, who doesn’t expect him to be anything other than a peer with a little more experience in his pocket; he’s a piss-poor option for baby Byers, who desperately needs some kindly gay Gandalf in his life. A role model with like, a long-term boyfriend and a city job and one of those yappy purse dogs.

But Eddie’s the only one here, and what else can he do? So he takes a deep breath and prepares to say something really wise and mentor-y. He doesn’t know what it is yet, but it’ll definitely be both appropriate and profound.

“I mean, it worked out for you, right?” says Will.

“Uh,” says Eddie, thrown completely off track. “What?”

“With—” Will flushes, but continues in a low voice. “You know. With Steve, and all.”

“What,” says Eddie again.

“I mean, sorry if that’s…I know you guys haven’t exactly been telling people, but…you know you can tell me, right?”

“Ahahaha,” says Eddie. “What.”

“I think it’s nice, how you guys managed to move past all the high school stuff and find each other. It’s like—a happy ending, right?”

“Right. I mean, wrong. I mean, whatever you think is going on, it’s not. Jesus christ, Will the Wise, there’s absolutely no way anything would ever be—where are you even getting this? We’re not—we’re not.”

“Sure.” Will rolls his eyes, and Eddie is reluctantly reminded that this kid can be a catty bitch too sometimes. “That’s why he was wearing your Black Sabbath shirt last Tuesday, and why you keep Springsteen in your glove compartment, and why his car is parked in your driveway almost every night. Dude, Dustin doesn’t even bother calling Loch Nora when he’s trying to find Steve now, he just goes straight to your place.”

Laid out like that, it’s a little damning.

“That’s—all out of context,” says Eddie weakly. “And—and Steve is straight, anyway. So. Check and mate, Byers.”

Will lets out an annoyed breath. “I’m sixteen, you know. You don’t have to—look, sorry if I’m pushing too much with this, but…don’t lie to me, okay? Friends don’t lie.”

Eddie’s heard the kids say that last thing every so often, like a mantra or some godawful affirmation. He huffs, shaking his hair out of his face.

“Y’know, that little catchphrase you’ve got isn’t the worst rule in the world, but it’s not the most nuanced, either. Ever heard of discretion, kid?”

“Right,” says Will. “Discretion.” He winks at Eddie, squinching the whole side of his face up like he’s never actually tried winking before, and Eddie is momentarily struck dumb with how terrible the effort is.

Just then, Dustin barrels in talking a mile a minute about some idea he needs Will for immediately, yes right now, Eddie’ll still be here afterwards, come on.

As Eddie watches them go, he awards himself one Gay Gandalf point for effort, and negative five million points for the trouble he can smell coming down the line.

(eta: I am a god damn liar. continuation here.)

[missamyshay]

More and more recently my perspective is changing on what it means to be a creator and contributor within fandom. And I think a lot of it comes down to the fact that, for some godawful reason, ‘consumers’ are starting to forget that creators are human. That there is an actual human being behind the words that you’re reading, or the artwork you’re seeing, someone who had an idea, and saw it through, and put so much of themselves into doing so.

You’re entitled to dislike whatever it is you dislike. No one is questioning that. And it’s okay to talk about the things you don’t like, no one is taking that right away from you. You definitely do not have to enjoy everything you encounter online. Absolutely no one is saying that. But slews of anonymous messages to authors and other creators shitting on their work is never okay. There’s nothing productive about that. There’s nothing necessary in that.

Instead, maybe just…press the back button on things that aren’t for you and go about your day. Maybe let the thing you didn’t like inspire you to create something more to your liking (if you can).

I’ve said it before and will say it again: going out of your way to criticise fanworks that are literally keeping your fandom alive is the equivalent of walking into a garden, stomping on what little flowers there are, and then complaining that the landscape is dying.

If you’re wondering why your fandoms are so quiet, maybe think again about that anon message before you send it.

[cordeliawhohung]

I saw a reblog of the anonymous ask someone sent you about using character ai, and someone responded saying something about how it’s disgusting to even ask that, which is a liiiitle harsh, but I digress.

The issue here, is that there are more people who don’t understand what AI is doing than people who do understand.

ChatGPT, Open AI, Character AI, Gemini, etc ALL steal from published works on the internet. It cannot be prevented, no one can stop it from happening.

I’m not an artist & I don’t publish my writing, but I do genuinely care about the artists and writers who are having their work stolen and receiving absolutely zero credit.

Please, please, please, do not put someone’s work into AI.

If you want to create a character, or a storyline & use character ai, by all means, go for it. But PLEASE, don’t disrespect or disregard these artists by feeding their work into an AI. It completely diminishes all of the hard work they put into their art.

oh boy, nothing like having a post you made in fucking january suddenly gain a fuck ton of attention lmao.

while i understand where you're coming from, i think you completely missed the main point of my response to that anon.

1: i literally explained that ai steals work to that anon. i said it's a pale imitation of what a real human would write. that it takes works that people put so much effort into and regurgitates it out. i told them not to put stuff into ai. i informed them, and i wasn't rude about it either. emotional, maybe, but i wasn't being rude.

2: the main issue i had with that anon, besides the ai grossness, was the insinuation that i'm not "creating enough content" for them. "the readers can interact more with the characters" comment from them really grinds my gears. even if ai didn't steal from creators, and it wasn't a godawful abomination, them wanting me to put my ideas and works into something that they can interact with that isn't through me completely disregards the entire purpose of me having this blog in the first place. which i ALSO explained to them. why would i want to put my work into a 3rd party source and not interact with my followers when that's literally my favorite part of creating? bonding and talking about the shit i put effort into? i had every right to be upset about that, and so does every other writer.

3: i have no control how people reblog my posts. so idk why you're coming in my inbox about what someone else reblogged, really, just to tell me everything that i've already explained to that anon. i know who you're talking about too, because they're a mutual of mine, and honestly, i agree with them. it's disgusting to suggest someone should put something into a third party source so they don't have to wait for me to "churn out works" or whatever. i know people aren't well informed. which is why i informed them on that post and left it at that. i also explained why it's frustrating to receive asks like that, to hopefully prevent them from doing that again.

also, while i have whoever is reading this, i'd also like to mention that the anon who sent that ai ask sent a response back (that i didn't bother to respond to because i wasn't trying to make this a thing) somewhat apologizing and said they asked me that because other blogs on tumblr were doing it too. don't do that. don't assume that just because some people are doing x thing, that means you can suggest it to someone else. it's rude, and comparing blogs is just frustrating in itself.

anyway. i will not be making this a thing. do not come into my inbox debating the ethics of ai or whatever, as i will simply not entertain it. (:

[229zmi]

SHYNESS GIRL

PAIRING: Yachi Hitoka/Reader

CONTENT: reader is implied to be taller than yachi, using a plastic knife to cut a leaf for a science experiment, honestly 99% of this is just yachi’s inner monologue

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

“What the fuck, it’s so hot and humid in this room. I think I’m gonna melt.”

You really aren’t exaggerating. It would even be an understatement to say that you feel like a sweaty, pungent mess right now, especially after running here from your dorm just to hear that the AC in the entire building is temporarily down. You yawn, fanning your face with your hand to keep yourself from dropping dead onto the tiled floor, although your efforts are futile.

When your lab partner does absolutely nothing in response to your pointless narration, you send an aggrieved look in her direction. Normally, you don’t mind when people feel inclined to not talk to you, especially since you like hearing the sound of your voice and you prattle on enough for all parties anyway, but at least a nod of acknowledgement would be nice to let you know that you aren’t alone in your suffering.

“Do I stink?“ You figure maybe she’s too scared to speak ‘cause your godawful stench might waft onto her tongue.

“Of course not!” Immediately, Yachi peers up at you and shakes her head so fast, you’re worried it’ll fall off. You find yourself enjoying the way her star-shaped hair clip nearly slips off her blonde strands from the movement before she reaches up to swiftly fix it back into place. “Sorry,” she stutters out, like that inconvenienced you in any way.

“No worries,” you say. Briefly, your eyes scan the tabletop, taking note of each item laid out in front of you. “Ooh, a hair-dryer.”

You flick the switch to turn it on, only to wrinkle your nose and quickly turn it off when the hair-dryer doesn’t seem to have the desired effect of a cooling fan.

“What do we even use this for? In this experiment, I mean.”

“We use it to simulate a warm breeze for one of our treatment groups. That way, we can see if it’ll influence the transpiration rate.”

“Well, aren’t you smart.” Your teasing remark has Yachi flushing a bright red colour as she shakes her head vigorously again and points to a paragraph in her lab manual as though to deflect the compliment. Regardless, you choose to ignore her, concealing your amusement behind a stony guise. “What do we do first?”

“Put on gloves.”

“Ew.” Resisting the urge to gag at the sensation of latex against your sweaty palms, you tug on a pair of blue disposable gloves with considerable effort. She does the same, although with significantly less reluctance. “Next.”

“Get two lettuce leaves that are similar in size,” Yachi reads. Nervously, she looks to you, prepared to offer to retrieve the aforementioned leaves herself so you can relish in the great honour that is staying in the same spot. However, you’re already turning around before she can say anything and walking to the front of the classroom, happy to do as told.

When you return to your work area, there are two lettuce leaves pinched in between your gloved fingers, though they’re different sizes, unlike she asked. You set them down on the table with an expectant expression on your face as you stare at her.

“Good?”

NO! NOT GOOD, her subconscious says.

Yachi knows this is wrong, yet she can’t find it in herself to speak up as she chews on her bottom lip and furrows her eyebrows. After all, as respectful as you have been so far, you do have a certain reputation around campus. She hears it from Yamaguchi, who hears it from Hinata and Kageyama, who hear it from Tsukishima (who likes to lie to them for shits and giggles sometimes). Apparently, you spend your free time throwing rocks at people’s windows at the dead of the night, make people you don’t like do your homework for you, and shove professors’ faces down the toilets whenever they give you a bad grade. Very intimidating.

She’s torn between two options. The thought of possibly offending you strikes such terror into her that she’d almost rather risk getting a bad grade on this lab than correct your mistake. But then there’s the chance that if she lets this mistake go and the both of you get points docked, you’ll find out that she knew all along. And then what?

What if you’re livid because she caused you to have a low score, so you start making her do your homework in order to raise your grade? What if you tell everyone of the one (1) horrible thing she did and then everyone starts making her do their homework to punish her for her dishonesty? What if she ends up having too much homework to do and people start getting mad at her for not being able to do their homework on time? What if they start throwing rocks at her window? What if you start throwing rocks at her window? What if, what if, what if?

She can’t let that happen!

“Actually, that’s not…”

“Huh?” This elicits an eyebrow raise from you. Assuming your confusion is a matter of you not quite hearing her rather than her deliberately trailing off out of apprehension, you turn your head to the side and lean down slightly so that your ear is level with her mouth. “Can you repeat that?”

Yachi squeaks, backing up.

“Never mind!” the words rush out of her mouth before she can think. With her heart pounding in her chest, all she can do now is hope that the two leaves being different sizes won’t make that much of a difference in your results. (Oh, who is she kidding? It’s a science experiment — of course, it’s gonna impact the results!) “I think the next step is to cut a thin slice off at the bottom of each leaf!”

“With this knife?”

“Yes!”

“Okay.”

A couple moments pass, and Yachi exhales, feeling somewhat relieved that you don’t seem to catch on to her ginormous fib while also feeling like a criminal at the same time. Maybe she’ll have enough time to change her name and move to another country before you realise. Yeah, that seems like the smart thing to do.

Your voice sears through her thoughts, pulling her back to reality. “This is kind of fun.” You point the plastic knife at her. Yachi feels like she’s going to wither away. “You wanna try?”

“No thank you!”

“Suit yourself.” With a half-hearted one-shoulder shrug, you go right back to what you’re doing.

Wait, Yachi suddenly thinks. What if that was your way of indirectly telling her to do something for once instead of just standing there and doing nothing aside from giving you commands like it’s her birthright? Now she just looks like a horrible person! Perhaps she should take the knife from you and do it herself. But what if that offends you, making you think that she thinks you’re not doing it right? Are you even doing it right?!

Warily, Yachi glances at the table.

Oh no. You’re cutting the leaves wrong. Horribly wrong, so wrong there’s no doubt the both of you’ll get an awful grade on this lab report if she doesn’t say anything soon.

Faced with no other alternative, she frowns, then takes a deep breath. YOU CAN DO THIS, GIRL, says her subconscious. Or something. God, she’s such a nervous wreck, she doesn’t even know what’s happening anymore.

“Hey, um.” Good start. Inwardly, she pats herself on the back. “Is that how we’re supposed to be cutting it? I — I don’t think our lab manual says to do it like that.”

“What.”

“Never mind! Maybe it does say that! I’m not sure, what d’you think?”

“I don’t know,” you declare intelligently. You don’t stop what you’re doing, seemingly concentrated on cutting the leaf even after being told that you’re wrong, but you nod your chin at her lab manual. “What does that say, again?”

“It says to cut a thin slice off of each leaf.”

“Okay.”

Yachi frowns. “…Those look like hearts.”

“Aw, really? That’s crazy. I didn’t realise.” You grin down at your heart-shaped cutouts, scratching your head as if you don’t know what possessed you to do such a thing. “Sorry about that.“

Yachi waves both of her hands frantically. “It’s okay, you don’t need to apologise! It’s my fault, I should’ve said something earl—“

“Hey, don’t stress yourself over it. Since I messed up, I’ll just get two more leaves and start over.” You nudge her elbow with yours playfully. “Hope you don’t mind spending extra time with me on this lab. Unless I stink.” Your face turns solemn all of a sudden. “It’s okay to tell me the truth. I know I’m sweaty.”

“You don’t smell bad at all!” she splutters as you walk away. Nonetheless, all is well after you return with two lettuce leaves, both of equal size this time around.

“That was your attempt at getting my attention? By doing everything wrong?”

It’s several years down the line, and your girlfriend seems to be in disbelief as you recall the fondest memories of you and her before your relationship. With a smile tugging at your lips, you gently take a wisp of her hair, twirling it around your finger before tucking it into the crevice behind her ear.

“Duh, I was totally into you. Wasn’t that obvious?”

Yachi looks at you with such incredulity, you could almost laugh. “No!”

“Come on, you’re only saying that ‘cause you thought I was some low-life delinquent,” you say, trying to convince her. “I made you hearts out of lettuce leaf. Isn’t that so romantic? Call me a flirting connoisseur or whatever.”

Her nose scrunches up. “I’ll pass.”

You clutch your chest and let your head fall onto her shoulder. “You wound me severely.”

[grendelsmilf]

Have you heard that is going to be a new avatar series, post-korra? Not sure how i feel about that, I guess it depends who’s involved, because the books have been good, but if they try to make it even more modern than korra it’s probably going to backfire

ugh, yes. really not looking forward to this. or the “adult gaang” movie. or the netflix live action. i like the novels because they do a good job of fleshing out the worldbuilding through past avatars (seeing, for example, a fire nation pre-sozin, air nomads pre-genocide, the geoeconomic conditions that led to the north/south pole divide, the way internal earth kingdom politics affected all nations, the ripple effects how the spirits were affected by human choices, etc.) but it’s clear that they have no idea how to handle the politics of their world in a post-atla-finale landscape.

the comics are godawful, and of course lok is a political dumpster fire. i really see no way for them to make a show about an avatar post-korra because it would simply highlight and exacerbate the problems they established with lok, namely the facts that they don’t know how to “modernize” the world they created without westernizing it, all the radical anti-imperialist politics of atla being replaced with pro-colonial centrist copaganda, the bizarre developments with the spirit world, and the fact that atla specifically works as a standalone story in the first place so trying to expand on it in any way shape or form beyond the timeline of the show’s finale simply doesn’t work!

i wouldn’t mind if they made more content about past avatars (because again, i like the novels!) but it’s clear they have no idea how to handle their postwar future. i don’t want to see the gaang as adults! considering we know how they turned out in lok (zuko maintaining a colonial presence in the earth kingdom, toph becoming a cop, aang and katara nuclear family, etc etc) that sounds depressing as fuck! i don’t want to see an avatar after korra in some bizarre attempt at a “modern” world.

even if the writers on these projects do truly understand the ethos of the show, these characters, the themes that made atla work in the first place, they’ve written themselves into a corner with what they already established in lok. it shows with faith erin hicks’s attempt to salvage the comics. she is good at writing these characters and this world, and yet she still has to abide by the worldbuilding established by the godawful gene yang comics on one end of the timeline and the lok world on the other, so she’s severely limited by what she can write about in a way that doesn’t contradict “canon” (in quotes because i refuse to abide by it lol).

if avatar studios really wanted to expand their franchise without taking a big fat shit on atla’s legacy, they would make media expanding on tangential lore that people care about, like a kyoshi warriors spinoff series, or a kanna bildungsroman (just as examples). it’s clear they don’t know what they’re doing, so i have absolutely no faith in them. that said, hire me bryke you need me

[mamawasatesttube]

this is like a kinda weird pair but what do you think kon's thoughts on/relationship with bruce is?

the hardest part of this is, i think, deciding on how on gods green earth to nail down a bruce characterization when he's been written so wildly inconsistently across so many comics. generally i try to characterize him as like... a good man, overall, but incredibly emotionally constipated and prone to really putting his foot in it now and again because he's got like control issues and whatnot. i think in a lot of comics he turns into more of a plot device (and white male power fantasy, conflict driver, etc) than a consistent character, so it kinda makes it hard to be like "man i wish he wasn't an asshole" but also i just dont think he can be a total dickwad and still be a hero bc imo that makes the entire meta fall apart. heroes have to be good (can be incredibly flawed, but have to be good) for the genre to work, i think. otherwise its like oh boy thats just cops.

so that being said...

i think bruce cares for kon in the way of any awkward-but-well-meaning parental figure with their child's best friend. i also think he's absolute godawful dogshit at making that clear at any point. i don't think he particularly has any reason to dislike kon other than when writers try to make him racist against metas or play him into misogynistic "my daughter can't have friends who are male!" tropes, which i just kinda. tend to throw out personally, so i don't really think they have that sort of conflict, but i do think kon doesn't really know what to make of him because he knows bruce has pulled some shit with tim (like tim's 16th birthday fiasco, which is imo the kind of thing thats like. in character for a bruce-esque fuckup. literally wouldve been fine if he'd just told tim like hey this is a practice exercise i want you to take seriously. tim wouldve happily larped about it with him like cmon man), AND with cass, two people kon definitely cares about. but kon adores clark and bruce and clark are pretty close, so i think to kon he's in the nebulous space of like "weird distant uncle-ish figure" or something.

i DO also think bruce is fond of kon in a distant but anguished way because he saw firsthand just how badly losing kon affected tim, and quite possibly cass if we kinda just. throw out the stupid mind control arc and let her like. have a storyline that isn't whatever the hell that was. also there's something to the fact that an alternate universe kon was his robin. he probably learned about that when kon reported back to the jl after hypertension arc. i think he probably had at least one (1) emotion about it but didn't tell anyone.

the comedic version however is that bruce finds out that baby kon wanted parents so bad, is deeply affected because he is NOT immune to a little guy who wants parents, and keeps really awkwardly trying to dad at him but he's so weird and awkward and distant about it that kon straight up has no idea what he's doing. who the hell just bought him a new oven to replace the one in his apartment he complained to tim about one (1) time??? tim swears it wasn't him so what the hell??? bruce is pleased with himself, kon is so fucking confused, and clark meanwhile will be laughing his ass off about it all.

[bonkywobble]

Kinktober ‘22 - Day 4

Day 4 - Uniform Fetish with Billy Russo

Pairing: Billy Russo x fem!reader

Word count: 714

Warnings: Language, fluff, sexual content (18+ only): oral (m receiving).

Disclaimer: Please heed the warnings - if this makes you uncomfortable then click away. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION.  I do not give anyone permission to take, repost, copy or translate my stories, regardless of whether or not they are credited. This blog and all works associated with it are 18+ only. Minors please do not interact or follow.

A/N: Day 4. Sorry this one’s a bit late. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Tagging @becauseicantthinkwritings and @cryptidcasanova.

Kinktober ‘22 Masterlist

Your thoughts are lace with annoyance, but you can’t help it. It’s supposed to be practical, you determine.

There’s absolutely nothing sexy about the clothing. The vest has so many pockets that it’s a wonder Billy Russo doesn’t lose track of all his ammo every time he goes out in it; the pants couldn’t be any baggier; and who decided on that godawful combination of black and camouflage? Not to mention, the balaclava hides the best part of that man.

It’s supposed to be practical, except that Billy has never looked bad a day in his goddamn life. Right now you’re supposed to be practically fuming at him, upset that he left you high and dry nearly five hours ago to ‘take care of some business.' Instead, your libido is reaching rooftop levels because of his stupid uniform.

Still, you step forward until your bare toes touch black leather and your eyes can now pick up the speckled collection of wet crimson on his kevlar.

You consider yourself about as smart as the average individual - Billy, ever the charmer, would protest this - but holy shit if this man doesn’t make you feel a little dumb sometimes, the sudden appearance of this tactical gear making you want to drop to your knees and suck the soul outta him.

(Unfair, you’d call this.

After all the times you’ve flaunted your body in front of me? He’d retort, This is me getting even.)

A dirtied hand reaches up instinctively to pull his mask off and you once again move without thinking, catching his red-stained fingertips only mere inches from the edge. His pupils dilate, the air thick with curiosity and leftover adrenaline as dark eyes intensely search your face, looking for something that he hopes isn't there.

Fear.

Billy sounds tired when he finally speaks, an undercurrent of smug satisfaction lurking in the low timber of his voice. “It’s done. Those pieces of shit aren’t gonna bother you or your business anymore. Okay, sweetheart?”

You smile gently between unshed tears, frustration fleeing from you completely. Though you know your work would normally seem mundane to someone of his standing, your boyfriend understands just how much time, attention and heart go into growing something of your own - a company that’s worth taking pride in.

Tough guys like to fuck around and then hate to find out, he thinks. Whether or not you’re scared of him now, your safety is and always will be worth it.

Pressing your forehead to his you hear him chuckle softly, relief filling his once live wired frame.

“Let me thank you properly then,” you smoothly offer. 

Billy smiles. Home for less than a minute before you assault him with your desires and impish wiles. Guess there’s no rest for the wicked.

His now even breathing hitches as you slowly sink to the floor, and though you can’t see it, you swear you can feel his smirk following you all the way down. Your fingers work swiftly to undo his cargo pants and set him free, his thick cock hardening in your hand as you pull it out. Delighted, you begin stroking him, hands pumping in a steady rhythm while you lick your lips in preparation and contemplation. Billy Russo is a handful, that’s for goddamn sure.

There’s a soft bang! when you finally take his length into your mouth and looking up you witness his head leaning back against the front door, eyes fluttering as he stares half-heartedly at the ceiling, seemingly stuck in a lust-fueled haze. Maybe your sweet Lieutenant had come back to finish his original mission, after all.

Your tongue traces the vein on the underside as you leisurely bob up and down, and when your nails dig into the skin on his waist there’s a cursed groan of “Fuck me” as his gaze drifts back to you. Humming in appreciation you push yourself to go faster and deeper, enjoying the taste and heaviness of him on your tongue. Hissing his approval between clenched teeth you sense before you feel his palm settle on the back of your neck to steady you.

The only crime in a war is to lose, and Billy Russo sure as shit ain’t gonna lose you. Not over his dead body.

[nyoomfruits]

if i’m being honest

pairing: max verstappen/charles leclerc word count: 2k+ a/n: written for the prompt ‘i don’t want them. i want you.” this was just going to be a short little thing and then it completely got away from me and now here we are haha

set during the summer break of the 2023 season. hope you enjoy!

It’s only the second day of summer break when there’s a knock on Max’s door. He frowns, glancing at the door like it’s going to tell him who’s on the other side, while slowly getting up from the couch, pausing the TV as he goes.

There’s another knock, more incessant this time. “Coming,” Max yells, wondering who on earth is showing up at ten in the morning during his summer break when he specifically told all of his friends and family he needed some alone time.

“All right, Jesus, what’s on fire,” Max says as he swings open the door halfway the third knock and nearly gets hit in the face by Charles Leclerc himself.

“Ah, good, you are awake,” Charles says, ridiculously chipper. “Pack your stuff, we’re going to the beach.” He cheerfully holds up his own bag as he says it.

Max blinks at him. Pauses for a second. Blinks again. Charles is wearing some sort of god awful Hawaiian shirt, Ferrari red swim trunks, and bright yellow flip flops. His sunglasses are pushed onto his forehead, and his hair is tied back with a bandana. Despite looking like the Teletubbies threw up on him, he still is unfairly pretty.

God, it’s way too early for this.

“Beach?” Max eventually manages to squeeze out when his brain decides to work again.

“Yeah,” Charles says, rolling his eyes, clearly impatient. “You know, the thing with the sand, and the water, and the sun.”

“Yes, I know what a beach is,” Max says, pinching the bridge of his nose. Seriously, which gods did he piss off to deserve this. “But why are we going to one.”

“You have been moping all season,” Charles says, frowning. “And now I hear from your friends you have shut yourself in, like some hermit.”

Max frowns, too. “Okay, first of all, I am not moping.” He absolutely is, but Charles doesn’t need to know that. “I am not a hermit, and I don’t want to go to the beach.”

--

Fifteen minutes later, Charles and Max are standing on the beach.

Despite being a Tuesday it’s pretty busy already, with parents looking for the perfect spot to settle down, while children run around building sandcastles and playing in the water.

Charles unfolds his towel and sits down on it, and starts ruffling through his bag. “Did you put on sunscreen?”

“No,” Max says, refusing to sit down because that means admitting Charles successfully managed to drag him to the beach.

Charles’s head appears from inside the bag. “What? Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to be here,” he says, “and also you didn’t give me enough time.”

“Always so dramatic,” Charles says, rolling his eyes. “Come on, sit down, I will do your back.”

There’s a moment where Max realizes he could just walk away. He could just turn around, trudge back to his apartment, and continue doing what he was originally planning on doing today, which was watching a godawful amount of Netflix.

But it’s Charles. And Max finds he’s never really been able to say no to Charles. It’s the whole reason he was being a so called ‘hermit’ to begin with. Because somewhere during the past season, between fighting each other on track and talking with him after and watching him win podiums he’s realized that shit. He’s in love with Charles. Maybe even has been this whole time.

So he was going to use the summer break to finally get his shit together, finally get over Charles, because Charles is a fantasy that’s just never going to happen.

And now here he is. On the beach. With Charles.

Plan’s not going great.

“I swear if you draw a penis on there I’m never talking to you again,” he says, plopping down on the edge of Charles’s towel with his back towards the other man, taking of his shirt as he goes.

“I was going to go for a #2 actually,” Charles says gleefully, as he starts spreading sunscreen across Max’s shoulders.

Max hisses when the cold sunscreen makes contact with his warm back. “That’s worse, actually. You’re the worst.”

“Actually I am the best, seeing as I am number one,” Charles says, his hands swooping over Max’s back, making it hard to focus on anything else.

“Season isn’t over yet,” Max says, his eyes briefly falling close. Charles’s hands really do feel good.

“You’re right,” Charles says, patting Max’s back. “But I am still going to win. All right, you are done, do me now.”

Max turns around, and once again curses all the gods in existence that lead him to his point as he lets his hands sweep over the expanses of Charles’s back.

--

The rest of the morning is actually quite nice, Max thinks. They spend most of it lounging around, occasionally taking a swim and even attempt to build a sandcastle at some point. They don’t really talk about why Charles dragged him out of the house, or why Max refused to leave the house in the first place, or how this is a thing they don’t normally do.

Eventually it’s lunch time, and they make their way over to the closest beach club for something to eat. Charles puts his incredibly ugly Hawaiian shirt back on and Max has never both hated and loved an article of clothing more. He’s not sure how much more shirtless Charles Leclerc he can handle.

“So why have you been moping?” Charles asks, as they sit down at an empty table.

Max considers lying for a moment, but he knows Charles, knows how observant he is, and settles for telling a half truth. “I have feelings for someone who doesn’t like me back,” He says it with a shrug, like it doesn’t make his heart squeeze in his chest just thinking about it.

“Ah yes,” Charles says, almost a little sadly, “I know that feeling.”

Max doubts that. Who on earth wouldn’t like Charles?

“I do not think moping is going to help. I should know, I have tried,” Charles continues. Seriously, who is out there breaking Charles’s heart and would Max get in trouble for breaking their nose?

“Then what do you recommend?” Max asks, leaning back in his chair, pushing his sunglasses up on his head.

Charles taps his chin. “The classics, really. Getting shitfaced drunk. Finding a rebound.”

“Well, I’m definitely into that first one,” Max says, signaling a waiter and then ordering two beers. “Not sure about the second,” he adds, when the waiter leaves their table.

“No, no, this could be good for you,” Charles says, leaning forward across the table with a mischievous grin on his face. “I will help you find someone. What about her?” He gestures to a girl sitting only a few tables over, talking to her friends.

Max barely glances at her. “Not my type,” he says.

“Ah,” Charles says, thoughtfully, twirling his sunglasses between his fingers. “Too leggy?”

Fuck it. Max thinks. If Charles can’t accept him for who he is, then what’s the point? “A girl,” he says.

“Hm,” but he’s not looking at Max, staring at something over his shoulder, and it’s kind of unnerving. Charles can’t even make eye contact with him. Fuck. “What about him then?” He points to a dude on the beach, behind Max, who is playing volleyball with his friends.

Something in Max’s chest loosens and he twists around in his chair to look. “Too leggy,” he says, turning back with a grin on his face as Charles sends him an exasperated look.

“Please take this seriously, Max. Your hermit status is on the line,” Charles says, and then flips open his menu. “I am kind of feeling burgers. What about you?”

“Burgers sounds nice,” Max says, just as the waiter arrives with their beers.

--

As they eat Charles points out more guys at him, and Max shuts every single one of them down. Charles never really seem to be upset over it, instead becoming almost competitive about it, like finding Max the perfect boyfriend is now his only goal in life. If only Charles knew it was him.

Max gives vague descriptors of his ideal man, like ‘well build’ and ‘good personality’ that has Charles rolling his eyes and telling him that that’s not helpful.

“All right, I give up,” Charles says, falling back in his chair, burger long gone and halfway his second beer. “You are somehow the easiest yet the pickiest person I have ever met and you are making my job absolutely impossible.”

“I’m sorry?” Max says, wiping his hands on his napkin before taking another sip of his beer.

“You better be. Why do you not want any of these men? They are not ugly. One must jump out to you, no?” Charles puts his sunglasses back on as he says it and god, he truly is the most beautiful man Max has ever seen.

The sun is hitting him just right, making him look like he quite literally shines. His hair is all over the place, and the bandana is doing a terrible job of keeping it out of his face. The Hawaiian shirt is still the ugliest thing Max has ever seen, but it’s also hanging off his shoulders just so, and the first few buttons are undone to reveal just a little bit of chest that is making Max feel like he’s going insane.

It’s distracting, how beautiful Charles is. That’s the only reason he can think of why he blurts out what he blurts out next.

“I don’t want any of them, Charles. I want you.”

The moment Max says it, he knows he’s made a mistake. Charles eyes widen almost comically and he nearly drops the glass he’d just picked up. “You mean that?” He asks, softly, so softly Max almost doesn’t hear him and well.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

“Yeah, that’s why I’ve been. Moping, I guess. But it’s fine, I get it, you’re not into me, I can. I can get over that, I’m sorry I ever said anything,” Max’s heart is pounding and there’s a rushing in his ears that makes it hard to focus on anything and all he wants to do right now is go home and crawl in bed and not come out for the upcoming ten years.

“Right, yeah, we have to go,” Charles says, almost a little frantic, and Max tries so hard to pretend like he can’t physically feel his heart break in two. Charles pulls out his wallet, slaps a hundred dollar bill on the table, and gets up, gesturing to Max to follow as he stalks away.

And Max. Max follows, because he will follow Charles everywhere. Even though he’s not sure why, or where they are going.

Charles looks around, finds an abandoned alley between the beach club and a little souvenir shop, and grabs Max’s arm, dragging him forward until they come to a stop behind a collection of large garbage bins, completely hidden out of sight from the street.

“Charles, Jesus, if you’re going to kill me I’d rather you do it somewhere a little more comfortable,” Max jokes, even though his heart isn’t really in it.

“What?” Charles says, bewildered. “I am not going to kill you. I just needed some privacy to do this,” and then he takes Max’s face into his hands, and kisses him full on the mouth.

Max gasps, a little surprised, but then leans into it, kissing Charles like his life depends on it. His hands are on Charles’s waist, and it feels like a dream, being able to do this, being able to hold Charles like this and kiss him.

Charles seems equally enthusiastic about it and even though it should give Max whiplash, from going to think him Charles is going to kill him to this, it sooths something deep inside him. Charles likes him too. He isn’t alone in his feelings, he isn’t doomed to love someone that’s never going to love him back.

“You will really do anything to stop me from becoming a hermit, won’t you?” Max jokes, when he finally pulls away, and it startles a laugh out of Charles.

“I do not mind you becoming a hermit, not really,” Charles says, with a bashful little shrug. “As long as you are my hermit.”

Max, giddy and elated and deliriously happy, just leans forward and kisses him again.

[nachos-and-movies]

No, yanno what, I’m not done with this movie yet

Cus I’ve been wondering about the right questions to ask.

Context: I think ‘Peter Pan & Wendy’ the live action disney remake is fucking awful and no one should waste their time watching it; it’s ugly and boring.

And my question when watching a bad movie is always “who was this made for?” Cus even godawful movies have at least 1 person who absolutely loves it, yanno. And in the end it doesn’t matter as much if a movie sucks as long as that 1 person got exactly what they wanted.

And with this movie, I genuinely don’t know what the answer is. People who love the colour puke-green?

It’s clearly not made for Peter Pan fans. The movie lacks good flying scenes, a Peter that smiles for more than 10% of the scenes he’s in, a Captain Hook that doesn’t resemble your drunk Uncle on the 4th of July, or a Neverland that is lush, beautiful and a playground for kid adventures.

It’s not for Pan fans that like darker variations of the story, there’s not nearly enough dead children in this.

It’s also not for winning brownie points with marginalised groups, like, really? You add dope representation and you put it in a shit movie? Do you think we’re stupid?

Is it for Disney fans? It’s definitely not for kid Disney fans or they would’ve added colour to the movie. Maybe colour-blind kid Disney fans? Movie’s too boring for that, don’t insult kids by having your movie be the equivalent of homework. Adult Disney fans then? Recent live actions do show that movie-makers think adults like boring, ugly and hard to see, so maybe… but then again, the movie is made BY disney adults, you’d think they’d know what their own people like to watch.

Which is how I got to the question I’m actually supposed to ask: Who is this movie made BY?

Cus I made a half-assed joke in my original review post of this movie, where I’m like “Are the writers okay? Maybe they need a vacation” but Actually..? I’m genuinely worried.

Cus I know 1 thing for sure and that’s that almost none of these crap-ass-motherfucking-dumb-shit-awful live action remakes have been made by people that actually LIKE movies, disney, fairytales or storytelling. Whoever is in the writing room right now, I can tell they fucking hate their job.

I can’t think of another reason why one of the biggest companies on this planet, with the biggest reputation and legacy to uphold, would be okay releasing the literal vomit they’re producing right now. It’s embarrassing. This is the company that got a standing ovation for a WORK IN PROGRESS, reduced to not being able to think further than British cliffs and forests when they think of Neverland, the literal most fantastical, whimsical, childlike wondrous place in fiction.

And then you start wondering how this could happen and the obvious answer is money capitalism the hubris of men, we all know this shtick. At this point I’m mostly just worried for my fellow creatives who clearly need to gtfo and work in a nice peaceful bookstore or smthn, i dunno, I wanna give them a hot coco real bad.

[sleeplessscripts]

I just wanna rant about something for a sec

I live in a small apartment without a dishwasher. The kitchen sink hasn’t worked right for probably 4-6 months. The water comes out as a trickle.

Dishes are the hardest chore for me to do. I don’t like the texture of gross old food or mold. I worry about germs and bacteria and diseases. I was having to sit in my shower and do my dishes in the shower if I wanted clean dishes.

So, I stopped cooking. I stopped eating real food. I ate sandwiches and hot pockets and cup noodles and granola bars.

And I felt like absolute shit doing it because I knew it wasn’t healthy or the best thing for me, and it was expensive, but there was nothing else I could do.

And dishes are kind of a big block to clean anything else. It’s hard to clean the rest of the kitchen with dishes. It’s hard to clean the rest of the house without the kitchen.

And then, this past week, I bought a countertop dishwasher. It came with a little pitcher you used to fill it up with water, you put the dishes and a teaspoon of dishwasher detergent in, and you turned it on.

For the first time in months, I cooked myself food for this week. For the first time in months, I had a protein rich hot meal. For the first time in months I was able to clean and disinfect my sink. For the first time in months I could walk into the kitchen and not feel godawful for there being a pile of dishes I couldn’t do. For the first time in months my house doesn’t smell like rotting food.

All because I spent $270 on a dishwasher.

Because I spent $270 on a dishwasher, I was able to feel good again. I was able to feel productive. I was able to make my house smell good with my wax melt scent thing.

And this brings up a lot of questions, I’m sure.

Why couldn’t you call your landlord to fix the sink? Because the absolute shame I felt at the apartment he owns being a complete disaster and the pile up of dishes in the sink made me afraid I’d lose my housing.

Why didn’t you just do dishes as you used them? It takes so much energy and time to scrub each dish thoroughly enough for me to not be afraid of germs and getting sick and the mold that’s been on it that I couldn’t do it. One sink full of dishes often takes me between 2-3 hours to do.

Weren’t you grossed out? Yes. I was disgusted with my house, and myself. I was shameful of having to do my dishes in the shower. I was worried about the shower water not being sanitary. I was constantly afraid of flies moving in.

I’m not sure enough people realize how much your environment affects you. When your house is disgusting it’s hard to feel good about yourself, it’s hard to relax, it’s hard to think about anything other than how you should be cleaning but you can’t because it’s so difficult. It’s awful.

I feel so much relief every time I walk into the kitchen now because my sink is clean, my oven is clean, I don’t have the impending feeling of “I need to do dishes” hanging over my head. I don’t have to worry about whether my dishes are going to make me sick. All because of a single dishwasher.

And to anyone who reads this, I want you to know that it’s okay to do things that will make your life easier. It’s okay to get things that will make your life less stressful or painful. And nobody should ever have to be ashamed of what they have to do or use to make sure they can do the things they need to do.

If this means wearing earbuds/headphones when you go to the store, do it. If this means bringing a stuffed animal with you, do it. If you need a rolling or self cleaning litter box to keep a clean litter box, get it. And if you need a dishwasher in order to have peace of mind, get one.

[chronicas]

Ah that time of year again huh? Over $200,000 in donations to that godawful site that try’s to call itself an archive already.

Ayo I’m Nox, I’m a disabled butch that makes art and works an absolute shit payin’ job. I’m currently workin’ with some folks to get a new job, but it’s definitely still a few months of work before I’m actually in any kind of actual workplace. In the meantime, I’ve got mouths to feed and bills to pay. Help me out, yeah?

Ko-fi (unfortunately all I’ve got set up at the moment, Patreon is going up in a few months tho): /noxsylvania

Or do me a kindness and go donate to the Internet Archive. Y’know, somethin’ that actually contributes a great deal to society.

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

Sorry the comic anon again

I know we mostly focus the woke shit but comics also fall apart because

1. Rampant big events that cause more damage than good

2. Rampant character assassination and development erasure that cause serve damage (don’t get me fucking started on Dan Didio 5G plans and how that effect a character I was invested in)

3. PAINFULLY obvious writers who don’t check the characters they are writing past unless it’s a certain run.

4. And keeping the same godawful status quo that keep a endless cycle of the same shit again and again.

There more, but marvel and dc purposely put them into the landmines and refuse to properly adapt their stories and money making ways to modern era. I can’t blame just the wokies, I have to blame th embodiment of a strawman manchild like Dan didio

I know this long, but hear what the head of dc comics from the early 2010’s to 2020 said

https://www.omega-level.net/2013/09/09/frown-dcs-dan-didio-says-heroes-shouldnt-happy-lives/

Oh, absolutely mainstream comics have been shit for decades. I love that you made a numbered list because I have things to say and this makes it easy to organize, XD

FUCK EVENT COMICS. God, I used to love these things when they were rare. They felt meaningful and they were the only time you got to see some characters interact with each other, and it felt special because it was unique. Secret War, Crisis on Infinite Earths, No Man's Land, and Age of Apocalypse are some of my favorite comic stories ever. Reading the No Man's Land novelization was actually what got me into Batman comics in the first place, and from there into DC itself (eventually). Until then, the only comics I'd read were Marvel staples like X-Men and Spider-Man (which, believe it or not, used to be the only two Marvel characters 90% of mainstream fans liked) and Spawn. But event comics also completely killed my interest in DC and Marvel. Civil War ruined pretty much every character I liked, along with everything I enjoyed about the Marvel universe. And Flashpoint killed DC for me, while the New 52 dug up its grave and did unmentionable things to the corpse. Now, event comics happen all the time. Hell, DC rebooted its main universe I think three times in a 10 year span. And dear God don't get me started on multiverses. They used to be an interesting concept, but now they're just a receptacle for every idea that was too shitty for even modern Marvel/DC editors to green light for the main continuity.

Yeah, way too many comics these days are written by people who hate the character they're writing for. It's vandalism, pure and simple. Taste, quality, respect for the character and its history, satisfying the fans, all gleefully thrown into the fire. It makes it impossible to get into any character, because the moment the writer changes so will everything good about the character. Even new characters aren't immune. The moment Bendis took over writing Jon Kent he artificially aged him up, completely changed his character, and basically did everything he could to ruin the magic of Tomasi's Super Sons run. Pissed me off to no end, because I was actually considering dipping my toes back into DC just to read more Super Sons than the stuff I saw on tumblr until that happened. Still makes me mad thinking about it.

I know this is kind of similar to the last point, but Batman writers constantly do this with Damian Wayne. It seems like every new writer has to throw out all his character development and reset him back to being a barely functioning murder baby. Though, that's also a problem with Batman, too. How many times has he cut himself off from his family and friends because "he works better alone" only to realize that he needs other people? 20, by now? 30? I mean, fuck, they did the "Batman needs to be a loner oh wait actually he needs his family" storyline twice in three years. No Man's Land in 1999 and Bruce Wayne: Murderer/Fugitive in 2002. I get that long running serials are going to repeat storylines, but fuck try to keep things consistent for a decade, at least. I don't think that's asking too much. Aside from the vandalism and wokeness, I think the major problem with American comics is that they have no idea how to write a character or a story long term. They just do whatever they think will boost sales or get people talking, find out they wrote themselves into a corner because they didn't think further than, at best, a year out, and then reboot their entire continuity again because they can't figure out any other way to get out of the whole they dug themselves into. Why would anyone get invested in a product like that?

This is where I'm going to disagree partly. I don't think the status quo is necessarily a bad thing. I think about it a lot when people won't shut up about how killing the Joker would prevent countless deaths, and actually Batman is an idiot for prioritizing his own morality over the lives of others by not killing him. In real life, that might be true. "Do the ends justify the means" is a moral problem humanity has been wrestling with since we invented morality. But comics aren't real life, and they're not supposed to be. In comics, there are good guys and bad guys. The good guys stop the bad guys from doing bad things, usually by fighting them, and then arrest them. Good guys follow a moral code, one that usually includes a no killing rule. They do this because if Batman kills off his rogues, or Superman rips Lex Luthor's heart out, you can't tell anymore stories with those characters. Heroes are defined, in many ways, by their villains. Batman without a Joker, or Two-Face, or Riddler, or Scarecrow, is less of a character. Not to say that he can never face any other bad guys, or that they can't be cycled in and out now and then, but you can't just kill them off. You can't have Batman kill them off. Especially when comic book deaths are meaningless anyway. Once you break one of the central pillars of Batman's morality, he is immediately a different character. Less of a character, in my opinion. Especially these days, where morals are more about whether or not a character supports the popular new slacktivist cause and less about the fundamental questions of universal human morality. So, I very much advocate for good status quos to stick around as long as possible. But you also need to recognize when the thing you're doing needs to change. It's a delicate balance, and one that's completely beyond most comic writers today.

Ugh, don't even get me started on that "characters can't be happy" bullshit. I'll be here all day. Suffice to say, it's a garbage line that only exists to excuse bad writing and the most shallow interpretation of drama. Super heroes can be happy and still be entertaining and have personal strife. Reading constant misery and knowing that every bit of happiness a character does find will be temporary is what's boring.

[flowerfeast444]

most ardently || pedro pascal {pt 3}

pedro x oc

chapter summary: devon and pedro get some news

the pedro universe fanfic brain rot has gotten so bad. i’ve done nothing but daydream about him and write our names in my diary with hearts around it like i’m a child. hope you enjoy

series masterlist

For two months, I did absolutely nothing. I slept in late, laid in bed on my phone for way too long, smoked way too much weed, and watched a godawful amount of TV. I relished every second of it. Today marks the beginning of 'August Sun''s press tour, with an internal meeting with my PR team to kick it off. It's nothing I haven't done before, but with a movie this big; I'm sure something new will pop up, and I really hope it won't catch me off guard. There's nothing that I hate more than being unprepared.

So, my confusion quickly turned to disdain when I saw Pedro enter the front of the office building a few paces in front of me. I hadn't seen him since the night of his party- I hightailed it out as soon as I woke up the next morning, severely embarrassed by my drunk behavior and even more so by his drunk rejection.

I knew I'd have to be around him again, I just wish I had time to prepare for that day being today. He didn't notice me outside of the building, so I took advantage of being early by stopping just shy of the door to fix my hair in the reflection of the glass and draw in a few deep breaths. With my composure slightly more in tact, I entered and headed toward the meeting room.

Though I was early, I was the last to join. I hoped my cheeks weren't as flushed as I felt. They sat circled around a long table in the center of the room, each of their eyes shooting towards me at the sudden intrusion and I actively avoided acknowledging Pedro's presence entirely.

"Hi everyone, good to see you guys," I said as I took my place in the empty seat closest to the door.

Gene, my PR manager straightened up the papers in front of him then cleared his throat. "Hey, Devon, we were just about to get started."

For the first hour, they gave us the basic run down of how the next few months will go. We start the press tour in New York in a few days, where we'll stay for about two weeks before coming back to LA for another two weeks. They listed the people that would interview us, what we would be wearing, and how we should talk about to movie to best promote it.

I honestly spaced out for a while. It's not that I don't like my managers because I do; really, the PR side of being an actress always disheartened me, but there's never a way to avoid it without good reason. I know my managers are doing things with my best interest in mind. At least, I hope they are.

"Alright, so. I'm sure you both understand what to do in terms of advertising the movie and such," one of Pedro's managers said apprehensively, "We decided to also go a common route for this movie." She sent a pointed look to me and Pedro, her hands folded atop the papers in front of her. "To really sell your characters' romance, Pedro, Devon- you'll be in a relationship for the next few months."

Pedro sniggered. Awkward silence filled the room.

I felt like one of them were bound to break their hard facial expressions any second and laugh at us, like this was some sick prank. Do people even fake date in Hollywood anymore? Surely not.

"You're being serious?" Pedro asked.

"Well, none of us will confirm or deny the relationship to media, but you two will definitely need to tease audiences about a romance between you. Come on, you know this shit works. It always gets front page coverage."

Pedro hummed sarcastically, "So, what, we'll just hold hands and flirt every time we're in front of a camera?"

"Basically," Gene deadpanned, pushing his thick framed glasses up his nose. "We may ask you to do other things as well, but that's the gist of it."

"Speaking of, we will need you two to go to lunch together before the press tour in New York to stir up conversation. We've already gone over your schedules before you arrived, so it'll happen this Friday," Pedro's manager said.

"Cheyanne, can I talk to you outside for a quick second?" Pedro pointed to the door and stands before she even responded.

Once they left the room, the shock wore off, and I finally processed what they were telling us. I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms with a dramatic sigh.

"Devon, any input? Or are you just going to whine and stomp your foot like a child?" one of the other PR managers said.

I tried not to snap at him, even though they felt they could speak to me that way when I couldn't even remember his name. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table and raised a bushy brow, impatiently waiting for my response. I sat up again to match his posture.

"Will my input make a difference?" I said evenly. 

"Maybe not directly, but we take your feelings into consideration."

"I don't know if you've met both of us, but we don't exactly scream 'in love'."

"So, you're doubting the believability of your characters, then?"

"No. Those are characters. We acted."

"Act again. Just until the movie leaves box offices."

He gathered his things together and organized them in front of him, signaling the end of our conversation. I chewed the skin on my lips to keep quiet. Pedro and Cheyanne returned, disrupting the increasingly tense energy in the room. The nameless PR manager continued explaining the order of scheduled events in Pedro and I'd relationship, but I stared out into the table, spacing out again. I traced the wood grain with my eyes left and right as far as it would go, matching the motion with slow breaths.

As soon as the meeting finished, I promptly dashed out of the room. I only made it to the elevators before I noticed Pedro hot on my heels. When he caught up to me, he didn't say anything at first; we stared at the closed elevator doors in silence. I could see his hand fidgeting out of the corner of my eye- a trait he only displayed when he would mess up his lines or not hit the right marks on time. The elevator finally reached our floor and welcomed the two of us before the doors could fully open.

It was only once they slid shut that he turned to face me, "Look, I know we didn't ask for this, but they're right. It'll promote the movie well and sell a lot of tickets. Isn't that what you want?"

I huffed. He shrugged his shoulders and let his hands slap against his thighs.

"This won't suck as much if you're not a brat about it," he spat.

I darted my eyes up to him and felt the fire inside me flare. The elevator landed on the ground floor, and without looking back, I said, "See you later, jackass."

[okamirayne]

O’Rayne!! Stalking your posts and totally freaked at your mention of HHU (please no pressure tho Rayne just see it as support and stalker interest lol) and was curious…is it your burnout that is the toughest part for you regarding HHU and your original works? Stupid question probably??? >.< I haven’t written in a looong time myself (so many unfinished fics heh >.>) but I think it’s block and not burnout. Is there a big difference?? I get confused but I know you’ve been struggling and always said it was burnout not block? I’m sorry and hope you heal soon. 🧡🧡🧡

Hello, hello! 🤗💜

Stalking your posts and totally freaked at your mention of HHU (please no pressure tho Rayne just see it as support and stalker interest lol)

[..] is it your burnout that is the toughest part for you regarding HHU and your original works? Stupid question probably???

Not a stupid question. And yes. It is undoubtedly the toughest, most frustrating, and devastatingly painful thing I've had to face regarding my creative journey.

I haven’t written in a looong time myself (so many unfinished fics heh >.>) but I think it’s block and not burnout. Is there a big difference?? I get confused but I know you’ve been struggling and always said it was burnout not block?

Oh luv, I'm sorry you've not been able to write for such a time. I'm not sure which camp you're in but I'll try to give my two cents re: differentiating between Block and Burnout. Please note: this isn't a one-size fits all explanation, as I can only speak to my own experience.

So for me, personally, the distinction is this:

Block = I have no ideas or inspiration; I have gas in the tank, just no map and no destination. Maybe my tyres are spinning in the mud a bit. I need a jump-start. Or maybe I need to figure out which gear I'm stuck in. With the right mechanical mojo, I can take the wheel.

Burnout = I have a destination, I want to reach it, I even have a map, but my engine is shot to shit and my tank is empty. I cannot be jump-started by my usual tricks and my gear-stick is broken. I have all the ideas and even sparks of inspiration yet I possess absolutely no capacity to actually get it OUT of my head onto the page. I am a fuming roadwreck. Even Jesus can't take this wheel.

Burnout, (again, I'm speaking to my personal experience of it) is a severe, scary, and surreal kind of shitshow that feels like my brain has mutinied and is gaslighting itself. Unlike a block, burnout is defined as 'a state of emotional, mental, and physical exhaustion brought on by prolonged or repeated stress' (said stress is different and unique in each case). Basically your nervous system has been sadistically rewired into survival mode, your creative tyres have been slashed, and you're not firing on all cylinders because your cylinders are now warped scrap metal in a flaming junk yard. It is a godawful state of breakdown. And when you try to rev, it costs you.

Blocks are cordons that can be navigated or bulldozed...burnouts are the love child of napalm and Greek Fire. You can't smash or power through them. Unless you like third degree burns on your psyche and soul.

Drama. I am full of it. I know. This is what happens when a writer isn't writing. Monsterous. Inconsolable. Insufferable.

I’m sorry and hope you heal soon. 🧡🧡🧡

You're a sweetheart. Thank you so much, Anon. I really hope you manage to clock what's got you stuck (I sincerely hope it's block, not burnout) and that you are back to writing again ASAP! 🧡