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#most people will decide not to even like it if you say shit like that either so really its only gonna make things worse for you
konigsblog · 2 days
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I, personally, hate the r@pe things you write.
I feel very strongly about SA and I know my feelings aren't your priority. I used to read your stuff a lot then actually ended up blocking you, but I decided to unblock you for this message.
I know a lot of people use this as a coping mechanism if they ARE victims, but hey, to each their own. You can't save everybody.
I just don't fuck with it. It's not my forte, but I know, deep down, you're not a bad person. Your brain just doesn't completely function. I, myself, have weird fantasies about military men and serial killers, but only about one's from shows, movies, or basically anyone fictional. I, myself, am extremely weird and I think I have a few mental disorders but I haven't gotten tested.
The things you write are vial, disgusting, and down right crazy, but hey, I used to fantasize about r@pe and honestly can't even imagine myself fantasizing about being violated now. I guess I've healed in a way or whatever, but I'm still into rough play and knives and such.
What im trying to say is, I feel for you and don't like your stuff at the same time. Nobody with a normal functioning, properly working brain is into what your into. It's just plain wrong. But that doesn't mean you're bad. You're just...mentally unput. Or, that's my assumption from first hand experience.
I just feel like your brain is messed up. Not in a quirky " I'm so twisted⛓️" way, but there's actually something wrong in there. Like, you're actually missin' a few dozen screws.
I have awful intrusive thoughts about hurting, killing, and/or fornicating with them and I hate this because it's a mental battle that honestly makes me wanna commit, which is why I feel so strongly about r@pe, especially as someone who gets catcalled a lot, and I am in dangerous situations often.
R@pe is worse than murder in my opinion because you can't hurt once you're done and dead, but being a survivor is an actual psychological battle that's torture, and torture is ALSO worse than murder.
I'm glad to know you don't actually support real SA and have some actual boundaries unlike the tons of idiots that I've blocked that do. Most of them have never even come close to experiencing SA, or just plain don't care.
I just think you feel this way because an actual issue with your brain. I don't mean this hatefully, even though I hate what you write. But that's just my analysis. But I am curious to know what made you this way.
you're a disgusting piece of shit, you don't know me, and let's keep it that way
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lovrre · 1 day
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Agreement Prt2
I wrote half of this to Need by pinegrove ♫
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Art Donaldson x fem black reader
Prt1 here
Word count: 3k
Warnings: smuttt,unprotected sex, creampie,slight breeding kink if you squint. cursing (ofc) slightly domestic relationship (not with Art)and probably some other stuff.
Summary: Despite being engaged to one of the top and richest tennis players in the US, you feel unfulfilled. But everything changes when you transfer schools and meet Art Donaldson, who just can’t quit you.
Author note: I’m so glad I finished I was scared I wasn’t, but your comments gave gave me motivation. Thank you pookies 🫦 I like this one a lot more than the first one. Arts also very obsessed and in love in this one.
After twenty minutes, you finish your meal, alone. You decide to leave through a back exit to avoid the paparazzi waiting outside the hotel entrance. You stumble upon a narrow hallway and carefully make your way out, trying not to attract any attention. When you reach the entrance of the restaurant, you open the door and are greeted by a charming and seemingly empty establishment. The cozy yellow lighting, old pictures, and paintings on the walls, along with the white tablecloths and wooden woven chairs, remind you of an old Italian restaurant you and Art used to go to. You see moving in your peripheral and catch a glimpse of familiar golden locks.
You walk closer to see Art and Patrick sitting at a small square table with a vacant seat, you assume is reserved for you. Patrick with a full plate of food and Art without. "Patrick?" You question, your voice filled with suspicion as you creep towards the table. He looks back at the sound of your In voice, a smile forming on his face as he stands up, “What the hell are you doing here?” You ask, taken aback going in for a hug. Patrick returns it with a laugh before releasing from the hug slightly to look at Art.
“Ask him” You look between them confused. “I asked him to come here” Art states, adjusting in his seat. “Why?“ you ask clearly confused with the situation, “someone could see” you add your gripping the back of your chair almost afraid to sit down. “I bought the place out for an hour, it’s just us” Art reveals looking up at you. “You what?” you exclaim, a bit louder than you intended.
“I’ll explain everything in a minute, just sit” Art laughs, gesturing for you to sit down. You let out a sigh, reluctantly pulling out your chair. “Ok tell me what is going on” you say, slightly impatient. “We’ve got a plan for your marriage situation”, Patrick says, mixing his ice tea with his straw. “A plan?” you repeat, still confused. "Yes, a plan," Art confirms with a nod. Patrick takes a quick sip of his tea before opening a tan folder that he hadn't noticed before. “The private investigator dropped these off at the dorm the other day”, Patrick says, pushing the open folder towards you.
Inside were pictures of your fiancée , kissing all types of women. The worst part is, it was so obvious, he didn’t have a care in the world, every photo taken on different days in different settings. Outside, inside in the morning and at night, all different women.
You knew you shouldn't be upset, but you were, not because he was seeing other people behind your back, shit you were doing that same with Art, but it was the fact he acted holier than thou. That he continued to try and control you while actively putting your agreement at risk. “Wow…” you mutter.
Shuffling through the photos. “That’s not even all of them” Art says.
“Yeah… I accidentally left the other ones, but these are the most important ones. There’s also some paperwork underneath with names, time stamps and dates on stuff” Patrick ads. “How isn’t this everywhere?” You ask, furrowing your brow. “The investigator thinks he’s been paying them off,” Patrick says, taking a sip of his drink.
"Not that I don't want you here, but couldn't you just have faxed these over?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, yeah... but then I'd miss the match," Patrick says with a grin, taking a bite of his food. "Plus, I would never miss an opportunity to help my best buds."
"Okay, so what are we doing with these?" you ask, holding up the pictures in confusion.
"We're going to spin it," Patrick replies, still chewing his food. "My plan," Art reminds him, "my bad," Patrick laughs, still chewing his food. You couldn’t help but smile, you’d missed the three of you together.
"We're going to spin it," Art repeats, making you smile wider. "Is this why you're training with my father?" you interject . Art nods in response. "Why didn't you tell me any of this last night?"
Art didn't say anything, a knowing smile spread across his face. Patrick looks between the two of you "freaks," he jokes, "Anyway... how do you plan on spinning it?" You ask, ignoring his comment.
“We lean into the infidelity, take a couple of photos of you crying, the two of you arguing, or something like that release them”, Art explains confidently.
“But… I don’t see how this stops us from getting married, it’ll just look like I got cheated on,” you say, scrunching your brow.
“We’re hoping this, plus me winning today, will be enough to persuade the media against him?”
“You believe you can win?”
“I do,” he nodded.
“Okay… I’m down.”
“Told you,” Patrick added, still drinking his tea.
“Are you especially thirsty or something today?” you ask, tilting your head slightly watching him slurp down his tea. A second one untouched, waiting for him.
“I am actually, thank you for noticing,” Patrick says with a big smile before taking another sip.
You notice Art's eyes drop to Patrick’s plate for a second time while you two are talking.

“You should eat.”

“What?” Patrick says, looking between the two of you who seemed to be having your own conversation. 

“No, I’m okay,” Art says, shaking his head.

“Mike had French toast for breakfast, I think you could have-“ you cut yourself off, looking down at Patrick’s plate. “Egg and sausage.”

“You guys aren’t talking about my food?” Patrick asks, slightly disturbed by your conversation.

“Patrick, I can buy you some more damn eggs,” you assure him as Art pulls the plate from under him.

“What just happened?” Patrick asked, looking around confused with no food in front of him.

Your phone rings, and you look down to see who it is. “It’s my Dad,” you inform, excusing yourself you answering the phone as you walk out of earshot.

The two of them watch your backside as you walk away. “She still looks good”, Patrick bites his lip, leaning over to Art.


“Careful, ” Art warns.


“What? you guys can joke about but I can’t?”


“Exactly”, Art laughs, plucking him on the head.
~~~~
With a dig, the elevator door opens, releasing you to your floor. You walk to your room, opening the door with your key card. Mike is packing stuff away in his duffle bag, getting ready to see your father. You don’t acknowledge him walking past him into the bedroom,leaving the door open. You sit on the edge of the bed carefully taking off your heals, you stand up and unzip the back of your dress with ease. The dress gracefully falls into a pile at your feet leaving you in only your underwear. You step over your dress and begin looking through your suitcase located in the closet. The sound of footsteps causes you to look up to see Mike in the doorway watching you.


“Where are you going?” Mike asked, leaning on the door frame slightly. You don’t answer right away looking for your dress under your neatly folded clothes. “There’s a press meeting with Art Donaldson's team, My Dad thought it’d look good if I’d came ” you say, moving more clothes around. “You didn’t come to mine” Mike states still watching you search.

“You didn’t ask me to” you responded, pulling out a light pink dress from your suitcase. There’s a beat of silence as Mike watches your actions "and you need to change for this press meeting?” Mike asks, raising an eyebrow. "No, but I want to” you say, standing up. When you see mike's eyes roaming up and down your body, you suddenly remembered you were only in your underwear. 


“Can you turn around or something” you ask, scrunching your face up in disgust. “I’ve seen more than this” Mike chuckles before obliging and turning around. You roll your eyes by stepping into your dress. “I’m sorry for how I acted this morning, I’m just stressed,” he admits.

" Really?," you hum, pulling up the straps of your dress.

"I don't want to be that guy," Mike responds, still facing away.

"But you are constantly being that guy..." you mumble, but Mike hears you. 

"I won't anymore. I want this marriage to work y/n, I.”


You release a heavy sigh at his word. “You can turn around now ” You announce zipping up the side of your dress. Mike turns around and watches as you sit back on the edge of the bed putting on your heels. “You’re still going to that thing?” Mike asks with a confused expression. “What about that conversation gave off the vibe that I was no longer going?” You say pulling your stiletto over your heel.


Mike goes silently for a moment watching you walk toward the bathroom. “Like you need more makeup?” Mike scoffs. “Be honest with me are you fucking him?” He asks from behind you in the doorway while you remove a bit of smudged lipstick. “are you serious right now?” You ask staring at him through the reflection in the mirror. “I’m not a fucking idiot, I saw the way you looked at each other, and I get the feeling that’s wasn’t your first time meeting” 


“Only god knows what you’re doing at that college” you can’t stop your self from laughing. “I think you’re projecting” you say walking past him towards the door, picking up your purse on the way. “Where the fuck are you going?” Mike calls out, following you. 

You swing the door open and step out into the hallway. Mike trails behind and tries to grab your arm to pull you back inside. “DONT TOUCH ME!” You yell yanking your arm back. “C’mon Don’t make a scene” Mike says looking around. 


“You have some fucking nerve, you know that? Your friend Isabel came up here earlier looking for you, I’m guessing you guys have a lot of fun In Detroit” you say with a smile. “When were you in Detroit again…my birthday? You ask rhetorically, Mike goes silent for a moment before responding.
 "I don't know what you're talking about," he says, trying to keep his voice down. "You don't?" you question. "What about Sarah, Kim, Kate, Alex? Do you not know them either?" Mike opens his mouth, then closes it. "Yeah…" you drawl, 


"they meant nothing to me... I just needed to get it out of my system before fully committing. I want this to work, I want this to be real, y/n," Mike says, trying to corner against the door in a situation similar to the one you were in with Art last night.
"That's the dumbest shit I've ever heard," you respond, attempting to push past him. He grabs you again using his strength. You had forgotten how strong he actually was. “Last warning” you say looking up at Mike. he can tell by the look in your eyes you’re serious, he doesn’t know exactly what you’re going to do but something in his gut said don’t test it. “Let. Go” you repeat one more time before a voice interrupts you.
“Is everything ok?” Patrick asked from the end of the hallway. "Yeah, everything's fine," Mike reassured with a smile, gently releasing his grip on him. "We'll continue this conversation later," Mike says, forcing a tight-lipped smile as he presses the elevator button. "No, we won't," you smile back with a wave, as the elevator door chimes and he leaves. "Are you okay?" Patrick asks, walking up to you. "Yeah, he wasn’t going to hit me, he knows better," you laugh. "I was actually more concerned about you hitting him," Patrick jokes.
“I got the picture though” he smiles, showing you a camera and clicking through the images of your altercation with Mike.”These are good, you should take them now, I’ll call Art and tell him I’m on the way” you say, pulling out your phone.
“I’ll miss the game” Patrick states with a slight pout.
“Not if you hurry.”
~~~~~
"I won't keep you much longer, just a few more questions," the female interviewer says, holding the microphone up to Art. "Was the training for this upcoming match particularly challenging?" Before the interviewer could finish her sentence, Art was shaking his head. "Not necessarily, different for sure, but not harder."
"As of now, can you confirm or deny the rumor that you have started working with Olympic Coach Dylan Y\L\N?" the interviewer asked, lifting the mic slightly closer to his mouth. "Ummm," Art hesitates, accompanied by a smile. "I think I can. Yes, Dylan is my new coach."
"So you and your opponent today have trained under the same coach?" the interviewer asks, scrunching her brow. "Yes, we have," Art nods. "One more question, is there any special woman in Art Donaldson's life right now?" the interviewer asks with a smile. The sound of camera clicking intensifies, catching Art's attention. Intrigued, the interviewer turns around as well. "She is beautiful," Art says absentmindedly, staring in the direction where you're coming from. You give small waves to friends as you walk in. "That's your opponent's fiancé... and I guess also your trainer's daughter?" the interviewer says, looking confused and turning back to face Art.
"Really?" Art asks, faking shock with a dazed expression. "Yes," the interviewer nods. "I mean.. I meant what I said, She is beautiful," Art said with a laugh, causing the interviewer to join in. His eyes never leaving you. "Does your coach know you have a crush on his daughter?" the interviewer joked, chuckling. "He might now," Art says with a laugh before giving a quiet , "Nice meeting you," as he walks away out of frame.
A short while later, you find yourself reaching for a bottle of water from a nearby table, inserting one of those adorable green straws they had. Just as you're about to take a sip, a voice catches you off guard from behind. "There you are," Art says, a smile lighting up his face as he jogs towards you. As he approaches, you can't help but notice how close he gets, almost too close.
"You're not exactly great at keeping secrets, huh?" you chuckle, taking a step back. Art smirks, "Can't two friends have a conversation?" Peeking over your shoulder at the ongoing interviews, you reply with a straw in your mouth, "We're not even supposed to be friends. You're supposed to be my Dad's client, or from what I heard your crush." You laugh, recalling a question from one of the interviewers. "You're going to get us caught," you whisper quietly into the straw.

"I understand. I can't stand next to my trainer's daughter," Art nods, "Orrr, my opponents, fiancé, but maybe can I stand close to my crush?" Art asks.

 “I think you could, yeah” you nod trying to keep the smile on your face. “Crush it is,” Art says with a smile taking a step forward, yet still maintaining a slight distance. “Did you get the pictures?” Art asks his eyes falling down to your lips. “Yeah, we got them," you confirm with a nod, unable to hide your smile when you notice his lingering gaze. “So we’re in the clear?” his eyes still fixated on your lips, as if he's ready to pounce. "Not yet," you laugh, taking a step back. "We have to wait for them to go to press." Art throws his head back with a strained laugh, and you can't help but watch his Adam's apple bobs up and down. You hadn’t realized until that moment how much you wanted him, it was an all consuming need.
“Just one day," you murmur, unsure if you're speaking to Art or yourself. "Just one day," Art echoes, his eyes now fixed on your neck, his finger brushing your curls away. You watch as he exhales shakily, looking at the fading hickeys on your shoulder, barely hidden by makeup. "Just one day," you remind, removing his hand from your chest. "Just one day," Art repeats, tearing his gaze away to look back up at you. "Your car is here, Mr. Donaldson," a man in black approaches and announces.

“One minute” Art says, gesturing for another second. The man nods in acknowledgment and walks away. “Come with me?” Art asked. “I don’t think that’ll look good.” You alluded to the countless people with cameras surrounding you.

“I couldn’t care less” Art says, shaking his head slightly. “I’d kiss you right here, if you’d let me ” Arts words catch you off guard, and you take a deep breath to try to steady your heart beat. 

“This planning stuff is more for you than me, so you can feel more comfortable. And I’m perfectly fine doing it,’s just …” he trails of his eyes falling back down to your lip. "Alright, I'll come," you rush out, convincing yourself it's to prevent him from kissing you right then. But deep down you knew you just wanted to be near him. You follow closely behind.

Art swiftly enters the car before you lean up, capturing you with a kiss. Before you could even fully step inside, his hand gently grasped your cheek, drawing you closer to his lips as he guided you into the vehicle. Lost in the intensity of the moment, you surrender to the kiss. practically falling inside. The sound of the car door closing behind you brings you back to reality, but the kiss continues to deepen. Suddenly, the driver rolls up the partition, creating a sense of privacy.
A sense of responsibility tugs at you, and you reluctantly break the kiss when Art's hand starts to wander up your bare leg. "We can't," you whisper, "We don't even have a condom," you add, hoping the driver couldn’t overhear.


“You’re right” Art mumbles, sitting back against the seat trying to catch his breath. “ I lost myself for a second” Art laughs, attempting to slow his heartbreak. ”After the game I’ll come to your room” you nod, looking forward trying to gather yourself. “Don’t talk about that, talk about something else” Art says his voice coming out more strained. “Like what?” You turn around and ask. Your eyes landing on the strained erection in his pants. “Oh!” You say, snapping your head back forward. The familiar ache of your core comes back, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek in an attempt to control yourself.


Against your better judgment, you take another peak. His hard shaft still straining against the fabric, you could damn near see the veins on his dick. “Can I?” You ask in a voice barely above a whisper. “Y-yeah” Art replies with a nod agjusting in his seat. You rub your hand back and forth against the Arts bulge while listen as his breath becomes more and more ragged.


Art makes a low moan and that’s enough for you to begin unzipping his pants. Against his better judgment he stops you. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah” you nod breathlessly, fumbling with his pants, pulling them down until his dick springs free. When you begin pumping his shaft, he takes in a sharp breath which causes you to smile. You savor the feeling of his heavy dick in your hand, trying to combat the thoughts of his thick long length inside you. When Art's hips buck into your hand, you fold. “I need you inside of me”, Art opens his mouth to protest and then closes, watching as you bunch up your dress around your waist, pull your panties to the side and straddle him. He grabs your waist with one hand and lines himself up with your entrance with the other. 


You sink onto him with a little too loudly of a moan and Art does the same. Opening his mouth for a sloppy kiss, he doesn’t wait for you to adjust to his size, moving you up and down his dick by your waist. ”shit I-“ Art groans out a wave of pleasure hitting him.
“-I can’t go back to condoms” he moaned, scrunching his brow in pleasure. You laugh and Art quickly retaliates by slamming you hard down on him. You let out a loud moan reflexively using your hand, trying to pull off slightly.

Art moves your hand out of the way, holding you down on him by your waist. “I’m serious”, Art grows leaning forward for another kiss while returning to his previous, rhythm. His words cause you to squeeze around him, and he lets out another low ground throwing his head back, breaking the kiss.



“I’m not going to last much longer” Art says breathlessly. “Just a little longer baby” you coo, leaving kisses on his Adam’s apple down his neck. “You drive me crazy, you know that” you moan feeling his pace fastest. “I do?” you feel Art smile against your cheek. You nod, falling into the crook of his neck enjoying the feeling of him fucking into you. “I want you to cum in me” you whisper, kissing the crook of his neck. “Fuck” Art groans, throwing his head back again. “You’re going to kill me” he states with a strained laugh.


You feel your release building so you decide to taunt him. ”you don’t want to fill me up?” You ask innocently, removing your head from the crook of his shoulder. Look down at him with lust, filled eyes. “Don’t” Art warns, his grip on your waist tightening, “you don’t want to give me a baby?” You huff out trying to keep your voice steady literally feeling him in your stomach. “Fuc- shit shit shitttt” Art moans holding you down onto him filling you up with his cum. His moans echoed through the car, the poor driver. 


“Fuck,” Art states after a minute. “Yea fuck,” you laugh, leaving a kiss on his cheek. “I think I might have a breeding kink”. Art laughs, “Me too,” you say with a smile, leaving another kiss on his head. You feel him twitch inside you, and knowing Art, you knew he would be ready for round two in a minute. You try to get off, but he holds you tighter, keeping you stationary. 

“I want it to stick” he smiles. Oh his smile, you rolled your eyes. You loved him, you knew it now, and you had a feeling he did too. You had been lying to yourself pretending you liked you didn’t care as much as he did. But at that moment you knew you never wanted anyone but him.



You glance out the window to see you were seconds away from the stadium, and then you notice your father standing on the sidewalk. “Oh my god! MY DAD HERE” you say, scurrying out of Art's lap. Art looks out the window, seeing your father standing on the sidewalk expectingly. “Shit” Art huffs, sitting up slightly, pulling up his pants, you take a wet rag next to the champagne and quickly wipe the inside of your leg. You quickly fix yourself before rushing to wipe off any remains of your lipstick off his mouth with your hand.
"Oh no, do I have lipstick on my mouth?" you ask frantically. "Nope, all clear," Art replies with a grin, planting a quick kiss on your lips. "Art," you warn, settling back in your seat. "My bad," Art chuckles, getting ready to exit the car. The car come to stop and your dad Yanks open the door.
"Hurry up, we're late. Mike's already inside," your Dad urges, When he sees you, his expression turns puzzled.
"We were heading in the same direction, so we decided to ride together," you explain before he can say anything. Your dad eyed you both suspiciously. "Alright, let's go," he says, ushering Art into the building. You wanted to say goodbye or wish him luck, and you could sense Art wanted to as well but it would be just too obvious.
You step out of the car, rummaging through your wallet. You tap on the driver's window, and he rolls it down. "Sorry about that," you apologize, handing him a 100 dollar bill before heading into the building.
Once inside the stadium you sit next to your Dad’s team which was now also partially Arts team and somehow also Mikes. Your phone buzzes and look down to see a familiar unsaved number.
“I think your Dad on to us”
“What did he say?” you text back anxiously your fingers moving fast on the keys.
“Nothing really, but i think he knows”
“Did he seem mad?”
“Not really”
“That’s good” you send, letting out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding in.
“Good luck :)” you add before stuffing your phone in your purse . Almost immediately your phone dings and you pull it back out.
“You gave me enough of that in the car ; )” you can’t help but smile at his corniness.
“You’re nasty.”
“Not as nasty as you” you’re about to laugh at his message when you hear a voice directly behind you. “You guys are actually freaks” Patrick says with a laugh jumping over the seat so he was directly next to you. “I applaud you guys for staying consistent at least” Patrick says lightly hitting you on the shoulder. “Can you mind your business” you say rolling your eyes, stuffing your phone in your purse.
“Actually I’ve been minding you two’s business all day with no pay by the way” Patrick adds. “So I think I’ve earned the right to be a little nosy” Patrick says making a pinching gesture.
“So you delivered the pictures?”
“Yes” he responded with a nod
“Thank you” you express your appreciation, turning your attention back to the court.
“Do you think he’s gonna win” Patrick asks leaning in slightly, curious to your answer.
"I hope so, but I don't know. I haven't seen him play in a while," you admit with a weak smile, the reality of the situation sinking in. "I really hope he does win," you mumble.
Author note : GUYS FEEL FREE TO COMMENT I LOVE READING COMMENTS
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This is mainly my observation as a non black person watching the reactions of other non black people and especially white people to the show Interview With The Vampire, they are a result of a fundamental misunderstanding regarding the idea of horror.
in a world of white dominated hollywood horror movies that mostly contain gore and white familial tragedy and abuse, none of which ever ever include the concept of race, misogyny and homophobia, racialised misogyny, and racialised homophobia- people cannot digest a horror tv show wherein the main character is a black man who is always and forever a victim of systematic, social, and microaggressive racism. people, specifically white people, have always been uncomfortable with being shown the extent of anti black racism in a way that isnt heavily sanitised or sympathetic to the white cause. to white people, the genre of horror simply does not include race cause they have not experienced the horrors of colonialist genocidal white supremacist anti black racism. and i highlight anti black racism because it is the subject of the show, as well as being a topic that is discussed vaguely by non black people while still being the most perpetuated form of racism from a global standpoint.
to white people especially, as the people who are responsible for the worst crimes committed against black people, anti blackness is just one of life's constants that should not be addressed directly or in detail, so to depict anti black racism so openly as a part of the genre of horror is incomprehensible to them. they dont want to be shown even a smidgen of exactly the kind of shit their ancestors and peers are responsible for, cause horror to them must just be things that they relate to and nothing regarding race at all cause it causes them to confront their comfortable positions. this is the same reason why you see white people saying jordan peele's movies are 'too hard to understand' despite being very easy to understand.
horror to people of colour is a concept that intrinsically includes racialised violence, its a constant presence like a rusted nail hovering near an open wound. and white people reject this. which is why they decided to degrade and miscontrue the purpose of iwtv and call it 'just another self important show thats racist and not worth watching'. cause to them horror is meant to be enjoyable, they want limbs chopped off not the actions of their white ancestors coming back to remind and haunt them. even though horror is a genre that is meant to fill you with... horror. horror to white people does not include the politics of racism, cause they see horror as an apolitical genre (obviously incorrect when everything and the kitchen sink is political naturally).
to the people of color, it is a moment of feeling seen, to see a main character ( a flawed man a pained man) experience the horror of all round racial discrimination, to see the horror of him being dismissed and exploited by the white people around him, the moment of witnessing yourself in the other when you see Louis and Claudia being so utterly sabotaged by so many forces, the way they are pushed to making irreversible devastating decisions cause they think they have no other choice to achieve an escape from a multitude of things they suffer through, the manipulation and abuse they had to become accustomed to. this is the horror, the horror of being immortalised against your will and lack of choices you were given, the horror of being forced to be subjected to racialised misogynistic and homophobic violence for eternity. being forced to live with all these memories and no means of forgetting. all this while enduring the way a white man belittles them for even suggesting that he might be racist while he expresses racist micro agressions (both lestat and daniel). this is real horror that hits home, horror you want to devour as a person of colour cause you want to see more of this story continue, to see what becomes of this living limbo that Louis, Claudia, and eventually Armand have to go through.
and as most white people cannot fathom this, cannot relate, they dismiss this version of horror that focuses on racism as a core element from the perspective of a black man and forever young black girl. they dismiss the show as just being tone deaf colour blind casting cause they didnt even see the trailer or try to understand this show. the white guilt is a shield they use to defend themselves against the frank and honest depiction of anti black racism from the perspective of a black man. they do not want to understand. they want sanitised, digestible depictions of racism so the horror remains fun for them.
even though this show is literally categorised as horror, and has all the hallmarks of classic horror including the camp styling, the blood, the gore, the supernatural, and the violence - the single fact that the show's core theme is based around racism from the perspective of a gay black vampire man is enough for them to declassify as horror in their minds. cause people of colour and especially black gay men must always be shown as having a good time to dissuade the guilt of white people and their responsibility is establishing the systems that oppress gay black men. speak no evil, see no evil, hear no evil, and the evil is not there anymore.
i may have more thoughts on this that i'll express later but thats all i have for now.
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themirokai · 23 hours
Text
Some thoughts from 40.
Look, being young is overrated. I was so unsure of myself for so long. There is so much uncertainty in your youth. For me there was so much striving for so much of my life.
Now, at 40, I feel so much more settled. I’m comfortable in my skin in a way I never was when I was younger, and generally I curate my look purely for my own pleasure without worrying about anyone else’s opinion.
I know basically what the shape of my life is. It’s not perfect but it’s good. It’s comfortable. Even if I decide to change jobs or something, I have a pretty good understanding of what that would mean.
And I’m settled in my personality too. I’m not perfect, far from it. But I have a better understanding of my flaws and what about them I can and have to accept and what I can keep working on improving. So like, when I have an over-the-top emotional reaction to something in a way that’s not helpful, I’m a lot better at recognizing that for what it is and I’m better at taking a beat and trying to fashion a more helpful response.
I’m also better at recognizing and internalizing that everyone is dealing with their own shit all the time. Sometimes other people’s shit has to do with me, but most of the time, though their shit is influencing how they deal with me, it’s not about me. And related, I’m better at knowing when my internal shit is impacting how I deal with someone else.
I think the overarching thing here is that I’m comfortable in myself. And that includes hanging out on tumblr and writing fan fiction.
So for anyone worried about getting older, I can confidently say, at least in my experience, it’s fun and great. You don’t need to be scared, especially if you view getting older as an opportunity to do more things and get more cool.
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kilarthmac · 2 days
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Let's talk about Caelum.
I'm gonna preface this with saying that everyone is entitled to their opinions, and if once you're done reading this you decide you don't want to follow me or you want to block me, that's completely up to you. I'm not trying to change your opinion or attack anyone who has a different one than mine, I just wanted to put my two cents out there.
I also wanted to say that whatever your opinion on the matter is, it's yours and yours alone, and you should respect the opinions of other people even if they don't match up. I personally do not sexualize Caelum, but I do think he is an adult with childlike characteristics, and those two statements are not mutually exclusive. He can be an adult, but he also doesnt have to be put in adult situations.
It's okay to have strong feelings one way or the other about this topic, but it is not okay to harass people or go on a witch hunt for those with the opposite opinion to give them shit about what they think. If you disagree with someone and do not want to see their stuff on your timeline, just block them or scroll away. You alone are responsible for your own dash, you cannot make other people responsible for what you see on your timeline.
All that being said, I do not like how the fandom treats Caelum and Empathy Daemons in general.
My stance on the matter is that Empathy Daemons as a whole are adults, but because of how E'Laetum created them, they tend to have childlike characteristics. Those who say that Empathy Daemons are ALL children blatantly ignore the fact that Regulus is an Empathy Daemon as well, and that he has been shown to have adult tendancies (his BA, getting possessive over his charge, etc) while also maintaining his childlike characteristics (telling his charge a bedtime story to sleep, having a very one dimensional view of himself and his charge, etc). This is where I have a problem whenever I see people try to say that all Empathy Daemons are children. Regulus is clearly an adult. There is no "reading between the lines" about this.
Caelum is also an Empathy Daemon, but he is a very different character than Regulus. He is a lot more childlike compared to Regulus. He gets his words mixed up, he likes sweets, he likes hugs, etc. But in his most recent video (Your Bakadere Empathy Daemon Friend Visits You), even he says that he almost went down a path similar to Regulus' until Delphinus stepped in and assigned him to Freelancer, and that stopped him from falling (timestamps from 2:40 - 3:18, and 8:45 in that video). It may be uncomfortable for some people to think of Caelum as going down the same path that Regulus did, but this video clearly shows that he had the potential to. Caelum and Regulus are not as different as one may think.
Erik has also said himself that D(a)emons step out of the Elision Well as adults and they do not age. Of course they don't know everything so they still have to learn, but that's not the same as being a child. On top of the most recent Redacted 101 video, take this screenshot from Wonderworld (previously Redacted Records, when Erik was still in the server) from 2020, where Erik talks about how D(a)emons coalesce.
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He even mentions how in earlier Caelum videos he didn't know what he wanted the d(a)emon life cycle to be yet, and that's why he had Caelum state that he was a "kid daemon" at one point.
Not to mention the fact that in the official timeline, it shows that Caelum coalesced in 1999, and is even older than Damien.
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At the end of the day, Caelum is a fictional character. Whatever someone ends up deciding to make of him is their choice, this is a fandom after all. If it really bothers you to see what certain people make, block them and move on. DO NOT berate them for their headcanons or fanart or whatever else. People are allowed to have their own headcanons, make their own fics, and draw their own fanart. This is a fandom space, and people are allowed their creative liberties.
Anyways, that has been my two cents. Feel free to voice your opinions in the comments if u want to, but please please be respectful and don't attack anyone.
TLDR; I don't sexualize Caelum but I do think he and all Empathy Daemons are adults (ex: Regulus), everyone should respect everyone else's opinions and just block what they don't want to see on their timelines, and the fandom needs to chill out lol
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parasolyaa · 2 days
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give me rtc character hcs for being in the subway for the first time
i love how this implies that they’ve never been in the subway before. well, since most of them almost never left uranium, this checks.
ocean — she always advocated for public transportation (and for some reason believed it wasn’t widely used, probably because she assumed everyone could use a car and subway was for noble people who cared for the environment), but if she ever went to a big city, she never stayed there for long, and usually walked by foot. when she actually used the subway for the first time, she decided to hand out flyers that said something like “thank you for choosing public transit! here are some other ways you can help the planet (…)”. ended up absolutely overwhelmed and in a taxi, wiping tears with the flyers no-one seemed to like. wonder why.
noel — romanticized the shit out of paris metropolitan, said he researched all about it and prided himself on being more knowledgeable of it than a local. when he got to go to france (probs a family/school trip when he was a teen) he bought an overpriced graphic t-shirt with the metropolitan map and confidently entered the underground. immediately got disappointed it wasn’t all gothic catacombs, and accidentally sat on a wrong train. had to take off his t-shirt and figure out where he was, and after two hours of being chest naked in the french underground and hopping from one wrong train to another even wronger train a kind passer-by pointed out that the print on his tee was of marseille, not paris. he spent an extra hour figuring out the correct map and asking for directions in broken french (the locals despised him). he entirely missed the drag show he waited for, and ever since then grew to hate the french underground.
mischa — is in on a ukrainian inside joke about metro in odesa. successfuly convinced all choir that there’s metro in odesa. there is no metro in odesa.
there’s also a ukrainian book called toreadors from vasyukivka, where two boys want to build a metro in their village, so they dig a big hole in their yard and a cow accidentally falls into it. safe to say their idea doesn’t stick. at some point these boys get to kyiv and immediately get lost in metro there. that’s 100% mischa. he did this i was the cow.
also he always finds ways not to pay for his ride: jumps over the tourniquet’s, crawls under them, squeezes in with a person in front of him etc. sometimes gets extremely bored and hides in a train wagon when it reaches the final stop, and stays in it when it goes to depo.
ricky — his parents drove him everywhere by car, and told the tales about toronto subway being inaccessible, dangerous and full of freaks. he never believed them. at some point (maybe in a trip with the choir) he got to travel by subway himslef. it was, in fact, a bit of an unpleasant experience, but he found out that it sucks on his own terms and was lowkey proud.
also he was listening to some cringefail furry music (i do not know if furry music is a thing but it will be now) and realised his earphones disconnected and he was blasting it to everyone only after he got home.
penny — had a secret hiding spot in toronto subway where she could keep her things and return to see them intact. she and ezra hid there often and spied on people, sometimes picking up what fell out of their purses — like pieces of candy or pennies (get it? penny? pennies? penis?). they never stayed there for long tho cause it was too overwhelmingly loud.
one time she went to that place and realised some construction workers occupied it. she was emotionally devastated.
constance — always saves the seat for the elderly, disabled and other people who might need it, and people always thank her plenty when she does so. actually never ever sat on a train seat unless the wagon was mostly empty. however, one times she had a horribly tiring + devastating + bad day and decided to sit down for once. got called 10 slurs by an old guy who didn’t see there was another free seat and ocean then told her she should have thought about others first. when she got home she wrote an angry vent in her musical diary (yk, the ones that open with a password and then play a one direction song or smth) with a fluffy pen.
+ talia — she is a subway rat. has a love/hate relationship with obolon station. has beef with pochayna station. she herself is from solomyanka region of kyiv where there is no subway. considers it her curse.
thank you folks for reading this, feel free to send me asks for headcanons!
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sunlit-mess · 2 days
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Hello, I hope it's not rude but I'm REALLY REALLY fond of your art!!!!! I was scrolling through your blog from new to old and found that you have Bpd,,,. I only heard about this condition, what is it like? If it's ok to know,,,!
hello, thank u! uhm it's something? HAHAHAHA idk how to explain it ����🏳 lemme try to be as direct as possible
I'm high-functioning, but there are points I seriously just start showing symptoms.
Emotions: INTENSE as it can get while FEELING 99 PERCENT EMPTY. Something just- keeps you so.. hungry (not literally). Sensory is also another factor, and honestly I burn out a lot, tend to get overwhelmed n meltdown like shit
Identity: I either have BEEF WITH it, feel GODLY, or be so LOW, really low. I live with both passion and hate. I'm very confused. But I can say I'm just tired!
Attachments: Relationships are so hard to maintain bc of how much I fear abandonment, like bro I can't even leave my family as much as I want to. I'm more scared of getting disowned or losing my name. Love is a concept I long to grasp at the same time scared of it, I don't understand jackshit about " love ".
> I tend to self-Isolate with or without reason
> ...I used to test other people whether they can handle me or not, whether they'd leave or not. Not anymore though, but the thought lingers.
> Very- paranoid- about.. perception, neglect and invalidity HAHA.
Mindset: They call it Black and White, or generally just two categories to label my perception of things. However, I try to understand AS MUCH AS I CAN about a situation, etc. See what's in-between before I decide. that's really hard for me to do LOL.
> I always do my best to think and be nice
> I can be so fucking bad at the same time, only to regret it the next second or so
> My mind is scattered all over the place, It's exhausting
Trauma: I have memory problems and a lot to connect with that. Hate and fear is what I'm accustomed to. I live with a fuck ton of active predicaments like hell. Old wounds keeps reopening, and new ones never closes.
Impulse: shows in speech more than in action (THANK GOD LMAO I'D DIE IF I LET MY INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS WIN)
Habits: uhm. Ranging from sunshine and rainbows to SELF-DESTRUCTIVE. I get obsessive, like.. really obsessive.
Coping mechanisms: Usually I have mood stabilizers and anti-depressants n shit, but I don't rely on them anymore (bc I can't keep buying). I don't have good coping mechanisms even for physical needs. It's so bad bro. So I just end up drawing. that's the only good one I can list.
Living with it: Exhausting and an internal war 24/7. Does it affect me physically? Yes. Does it come with other mental factors and conditions? Also yes! But as one of God's most tired soldiers, nothing I can do but keep walking.
What I'm confused about: dawg last time, i kept searching about how conditions co exists like— Thats normal?? N the last diagnosis I was in confirms it does and nothing to worry about. BLUD I AM DEF WORRYING. Autism n bpd? u mean my behavior and shit isnt meant to be invalid as most people perceive — u mean these fckass experiences built that bpd? ☠️ WHAT AM I THEN—
(I'm having a hard time believing it bc as an adult, it's harder to process information like these)
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wingsdippedingold · 10 hours
Text
My statement on ACOTAR characters
(unedited; really just a brain dump)
I know I use a lot of pro and anti tags when it comes to ACOTAR, and while I do have characters I like more than others, I really just dislike them as a whole. I think the series is poorly written and SJM is the one I actually hate.
I honestly can't really criticize or defend any character properly, because the characters themselves are just deficiently made. They all come from the same dumbass author. The main thing keeping me in the fandom are the actual people in it, because they have actual thoughts that make sense, and I find discussing the topics presened entertaining. So I don't wanna hear any "Well if you hate the books so much stop talking about them" bs
I don't hate Rhysand, in fact I think he has a lot of cool moments. I like the idea of him not bowing to anyone but his own people, so he got a knee tat of Velaris (even if I think its dorky). I enjoy his outlook on what's right, and I did genuinely like him early on. But I think the way SJM writes his actions (especially political ones) and their justifications incredibly disjointed poorly thought out. I think he's wrongfully used and justified and digs people into a bad way of thinking ethically because SJM has made no move to do anything but portray him as a white knight. Had the narrative acknowledge some of the things he's done as actually bad, in fact that most of them have bad outcomes for some even if they benefit others, I'd have no issue with him. SHe just writes him doing heinous things for reason and then is like "Oh but he's traumatized so its okay!"
I don't dislike Feyre, but I think she's often shoved into a backseat role in her own series. I know this is a multi-pov story, but seriously? How the fuck did SJM make Feyre's pregnancy climax to nothing more than more Nesta hate??? Why was her experience and thoughts just completely missing in the plot that literally revolved around her?? I find her flaws charming, and yet they're often forgotten or used to justify things that shouldn't be justified. I don't have any issue with her beyond the SC disaster. But, I think the fact that there's Feyre antis in general speaks to how bad of a writer SJM is. You can't even make people agree on liking your main fucking character? In fact most Feyre antis are Pro Nestas... which is ridiculous. How poorly do you have to write for people to pit sisters against each other WHEN YOUR MAIN TROPE IS FOUND FAMILY. The way SJM uses Feyre pisses me off endlessly
I think Feysand has its moments, and I don't hate anything about them specifically - but rather how they're presented and treated by the narrative. I think they make sense together, and I prefer them to Feylin, but I hate how SJM and fans bend over backward to justify everything.
I'm not a Nesta stan, I just think the narrative (and especially SF) is an injustice to real world issues and the logic used against her makes no sense in reference to the other characters. SJM says she loves her so much, but shows her none. I find the way the fandom treats her lacking empathy, and SJM has done nothing to actually better her character. I think its ridiculous no one acknowledge that she grew up in the same fucking cottage as Feyre with the same parents. SJM constantly dredges up new shit to pit her and Feyre against each other instead of just letting them be happy. She treats Nesta like she's irredeemable, and when she does "redeem" herself its literally in service to the people who are forcing her to fix herself??? She's used as a point for juvenile drama and placed in a cycle of being antagonized with no outlet to place blame. See my full thoughts on her here
I don't actually despise the ic, I think they all are just wasted and thrown into whatever whirlwind situation gives SJM a boner. I think Morrigan had so much potential, but SJM decided it would be better to use her for petty drama and forwarding a ship. I don't hate her because she doesn't do anything for the woman in the CoN, because quite frankly I don't think SJM has thought that far. I don't think Cassian's the worst man alive, but I think SJM has a poor grasp on him and what a healthy relationship (even in the bounds of a fantasy novel) is. And I just find Azriel particularly useless, he's not a thoughtful sensitive soul, he's just yet to be focused on. And I do not look forwards to the day he is, based on his first and only current pov.
I'm not a Tamlin stan, in fact I really don't care for his character, but I think he suffers from lazy writing and some severe character assassination. I think the switch up on his character after the first book is absolutely ridiculous.
I dislike how SJM throws Elain around and treats her like a little precious baby and making her out to be an airhead whos absolved from the same crimes Nesta's hated for.
I'm not an SJM fan, I'm an avid SJM hater. I actually despise her, and while I won't write out my entire long list of grievances with her here, just know that literally all of my issues with the series would be gone if she was just a better person and writer. Seriously, I think she lacks so much mechanical and analytical skill (which is crazy, she's been publishing books for 12+ years and written like 15) and I see no change in the future. She constantly retcons, switches characters up for whatever her narrative calls for, and sacrifices good character writing for a fast track to mediocre faerie smut.
I hate the way she sexualized Feyre's experience under the mountain. I hate the way she immediately objectified Feyre when she got pregnant (the blurb describing Feyre walking around while pregnant is insanely kinky and I hate it). I hate the way she throws around trauma and mental illness like cute little stickers so that she can pick and choose the aspects she thinks are cool. I hate that she's fucked up people's perception of abuse and mental illness. I hate the way she uses poc and steals credit for representation she didn't care to make. This isn't even all of it, its just what I can remember within the 9 minutes I spent writing this brain dump. SJM does not deserve more of my time 😭
If I was a character in the series I genuinely think I'd avoid all of them, because I don't care, and if I somehow did have to be cornered with any of them, I'd hate all of them. But If I ever faced up with the mother (aka Sarah), it'd be on sight. My hatred for her knows no bounds. Hate is a strong word, and one I used so many times in this post (something SJM does a lot too though, so I'm not worried, seriously get a thesaurus and stop using the same phrases every 6 pages) because it's true.
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scarasimplysimping · 3 days
Text
All In
Part 1 (might be two parts idk)
(⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)
Summary: A bet is placed to see if you can get the Summa Cum Laude to fall in love with you. (Scaramouche x Reader) (College au)
Contains: Idk. So it's one of those love stories where there's a bet. Hu Tao and Childe are kind of assholes for the sake of this fic, I am SORRY. Reader is also kind of an ass. Ooc. Some plot holes because I don't go to college or drink or smoke. Just roll with it.
(⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)
2,822 words 15,518 characters
What a stuck-up prick.
That's what you thought of him anyway. He was *the* Summa Cum Laude of your year. He was snobby, self-centered, friendless, and to top it all off, he just so happened to be your partner for your big thesis.
It was not by choice but he had no partner because people were afraid of him and you had no partner because well... people hated you. It wasn't a project that could be done individually either, lest you wanted to die before you graduate.
"He's such a bore." You complain to your friends on the lunch table, Hu Tao, Childe, and Xiao. "I tried to make plans with him, really. I asked if he was free, and you know what he said?" You slammed your hands on the table for dramatic effect.
Hu Tao leaned in closer, strands of her hair falling onto the table, and alarmingly close to Xiao's food, making him scowl as he moved his tray.
"He said," you began, putting up a silly impression of him with a snobby expression. "I don't need bottom feeders like you dragging down my work. I'll handle everything. Pay me if you want."
Childe snorted. Hu Tao doubled over in laughter, mainly because you're impression was so on point.
"God, what a freak." Hu Tao mused as she wiped her tears from her face, she never passed on the opportunity to talk shit about someone she didn't like. Childe agreed with her but he was partly not paying attention. He jabbed his fork into Xiao's food.
"Fucker." Xiao muttered under his breath.
Your silly clique was a ragtag bunch of misfits in their own ways. Hu Tao was your childhood friend who always had something vindictive to say or some storm to stir up. She lived for the drama.
Childe started tagging along around highschool. He was a charming, silver-tongued ginger ball of sunshine, he started developing a negative reputation over time as as somewhat of a satyr, though.
Xiao was above all the petty and immature antics whichever one of you had the gall to cook up. In all honesty, he was only there because his older brother, Zhongli had asked Childe to help him settle in to the college life. Childe owed the man a favor so he dragged the poor emo wherever you guys went and you kind of just got used to his company.
Then there was you, there was one thing that set you far apart from them all.
Money.
They were filthy rich and you, an independent college student, had not a penny to your name after you decided to up and leave your family to follow Hu Tao to college. You didn't really have to work though, your friends pretty much covered most of your college expense as casually as a friend would by you lunch.
"I know I can't really help him, I mean, my grades are dogshit right now but like I don't know how to pay him either," You said, burying your face into your palms.
Childe scoffed. "I don't even think he means it. Plus, it's nothing to worry about. We've got you covered if that greedy little nerd actually demands shit from you."
"Yeah, just let him do everything by himself," He continued "Watch him or something, in case your professor wants updates.."
A small smirk formed upon his lips. "I bet he's not that hard to watch anyway."
You playfully punched him on the shoulder "Gross!"
"You gotta admit he is kinda cute," Hu Tao chided in. "Right, Xiao?"
Xiao shrugged, far too focused on actually having lunch.
Childe snaked an arm over you. "Tell you what, (Y/N). If you can somehow bed the prudish bastard before the end of this semester, I'll fork over some money for this month's rent."
"Hu Tao pays rent."
"I'll fork over some money for anything you want."
"Hmm... I want VIP tickets to La Signora's concert."
"Done~"
"Oh my archons! Like actually?" Hu Tao couldn't tell if you both were serious. "(Y/N), your charm is above average but I don't even know if you can pull this one off."
You roll your eyes." Have faith in me. I bet he's easy."
Hu Tao leans back thoughtfully, a mischievous smirk playing on her face. "Alright, (Y/N). If you manage to pull this off I'll give you a grand.
You gape at her. "Seriously?
"Absolutely."
You know were only entertaining the idea because they had no actual faith you'd pull it off, but to you. This was easy money.
You slowly turn to the brooding emo on the table. "What about you, Xiao?"
His eyes narrowed at you. "What about me?"
"You gonna offer anything?"
He scoffs, groaning internally and being the only one with a moral compass. "Only an asshole would find bets such as these any type of fun."
Childe flicks his wrist dismissevly. "We are assholes."
(⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)
It was hard enough convincing Scaramouche to work on the project and your (and Hu Tao's) place but now you had to deal with the emanating silence from you both. You've barely ever talked to him but the tension in your room could be cut with a knife, or maybe that was just your imagination.
He was sitting cross legged on your bed, typing away at his laptop with several papers surrounding him. You were sat across from him in the same position, nursing a cigarette in between your fingers.
"Do you want something to eat?" You finally break the silence.
He doesn't look up from the screen as he responds. "What do you have?"
You look to the ceiling, trying to recall what you and Hu Tao had last shoved into the fridge. "Uh... Pesto... Pizza... Dumplings. Probably some leftover vegetables."
"Bring me them all." Talk about shame.
"Alright." You say, putting out the cigarette on your nightstand. You couldn't help but notice the tiny scowl on Scaramouche's face as he glanced at the ashtray.
You come back balancing a bowl of pesto, a bowl of dumplings, and a bowl of salad on a box of pizza. Scaramouche pats on the side of your bed, indicating for you to drop the offerings there.
You light another cigarette as you take your previous seat in front of him.
"The weather is pretty nice today.." A sad attempt at conversation on your end.
Silence
"So... Childe's hosting a party tomorrow night, would you like to come?" You try once more.
Scaramouche still doesn't say anything, he doesn't even look up from the screen.
You blow a puff of smoke on his face. He coughs a bit before glaring at you with cold judging eyes. At least he was actually looking at you now. "I have no time to indulge in that crap."
"You have plenty of time. That thesis isn't due for another month."
"Well not exactly, since I'll be doing the work for both of us."
"Do you have a problem with me?"
"I have a problem with people like you." He glowers.
"People like me?" You raise your eyebrows.
"People who just have everything spoon fed to them by luck or by birthright and take that as a reason to slack off for the rest of their life since everything just magically works out for them." Scaramouche wasn't wrong, you really fucked around and never found out but still, what right did he have to judge you?
"Didn't know you knew me so well." You say, blowing out another puff of smoke but this time it's to the side.
Scaramouche opens his mouth to respond, then closes it once more. You had a point. It was hypocritical of him to listen to judge you based on gossip.
Finally, he speaks after a few minutes of silence.
"I was out of line." It's an apology although he doesn't outright apologize.
"Yeah." You decide to take advantage of his momentary guilt as you inquire about what he's working on. "So, do you mind telling me what you're doing?"
"Well, I'm looking online for research papers related to the topic were studying. I'm taking snippets I find interesting and I'll save them for later to expand on them in our thesis."
Scaramouche speaks a bit more but you're hardly listening. You take this time to really observe his physical appearance. Hu Tao was right; the man was cute. His eyes, his mouth, his lips. If you took a meat cleaver to the center of his skull, you'd have matching halves.
Even his hair looked softer than unicorn fur.
"(Y/N)?" He snaps you out, a displeased expression creeps upon his face upon noticing that you aren't even paying attention.
"Your hair looks softer than unicorn fur," you blurt out.
His eyes widen slightly, and you could've sworn he turned a shade pink before he feigned a disgusted look to save his dignity. "What the hell?"
You caught on immediately. There it was. Scaramouche had a weakness. The Summa Cum Laude, the bridge troll with a big brain and purple hair (as Hu Tao once described him) is someone who gets easily flustered .
"You're kind of cute." You push on.
"Shut the fuck up." His head lowers, he dares not look into your eyes.
"Come to Childe's party with me?" You ask once more.
(⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)
Scaramouche hated you. He hated your face and your voice and your personality. He hated every single atom you were made up of, but most of all he hated the way you were able to persuade him to come to this stupid party. And for what? Just because you were the first person to ever call him cute? He'd curse you and all your descendants to come.
Childe's party was just a gathering of drunks and trouble makers. His house was practically a mansion that could fit 60% of the university's student population.
He hated the blaring lights and unbelievably loud, repetitive, and distasteful music.
"I hate this!" He has to shout for you to hear.
"I know!"
"I'm going home!"
"You can't! You're my ride home!"
"We walked here, dumbass!" Scaramouche wanted to leave you truly he did but something, wasn't letting him. His moral compass or his growing fondness of you?
Childe finds you, placing an arm around your shoulder. "Hey!" He hands you a shot glass which you graciously accept and down in a couple of seconds, much to Scaramouche's dismay.
Childe pays no attention to your companion until he does a double take and realize it's Scaramouche.
"Holy shit! Is that Scara!?" Childe grins hazily. He was drunk drunk.
Scaramouche does not respond. He is frowning while Childe handed you half a bottle of gin.
You drink it within a couple minutes as you chat with Childe.
Scaramouche stands there, awkward, cranky, and out of place as the only person he's aquatinted with in this party is getting absolutely inebriated.
At some point you don't know when or from where but you get your hands on another shot glass.
"You're not drinking that," Scaramouche states firmly.
"I am." You bring the cup to your lips but Scaramouche is faster, he snatches it from you and lets it fall to the ground.
"What gives!?"
"I'm not carrying your drunk ass home just because you drank away the capability to walk!" He shouts at you.
People are staring now. Is it because of the commotion or because Scaramouche was the last person anyone would expect to see at a party?
Scaramouche didn't like the staring or the attention. "I'm going fucking home." He says, grabbing your wrist and pulling you past the crowd. "So are you."
Childe is left there, impressed. He takes out his cellphone.
To: Hu Tao
She's actually gonna pull it off. Wtf
From: Childe
You stumble and trip as Scaramouche drags you through the night. It was a miracle you could keep up. (It wasn't, he slowed his pace on purpose to match yours but it still wasn't slow enough for your drunken ass.)
"Scara, slow dooown~"
He ignores you until he feels you slip from his grasp, landing with a thud. "What the fuck is wrong with you!? Do you not have the smarts to walk!?" The boy scolds.
You decide to rest your knees a bit as you stay on the ground.
You hear him sigh sharply before crouching in front of you. "Get on."
"What? Like piggyback style?"
"Yes, damnit just get on." His face wasn't facing you and it was dark. Scaramouche was eternally grateful to the archons that you couldn't see the way his ears reddened.
He carries you like that until you're at the front door of your place. Scaramouche gently drops you off. Miraculously not panting. (He wasn't that athletic.)
"Can I trust you enough to tuck yourself in?" The boy asks, his tone was calm this time.
You nod in response.
"Alright." Scaramouche turns his heel to leave.
"Scaramouche." You call out.
He turns back to you, a little too quickly.
You try to take a step towards him except you "accidentally" trip on air and crash onto his chest. He barely moves an inch but his hands instinctively wrap around you. You can see the exact moment he scrunches his nose as well as the moment before that where his cheeks flush.
You'll blame this on alcohol later. You'll also blame alcohol for when you pulled his collar to place a quick peck on his lips.
This was the night Scaramouche nearly passed away.
(⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)
Scara paced around his room. What the fuck was that? Why the fuck would you do that? His heart still raced as fast as it did when you kissed him.
He replayed the kiss over and over in his mind. Why? Just why? He mussed his hair in frustration as he plopped himself on the bed. If Scaramouche focused enough, he could still feel their lips on his, even if it was just for a fleeting moment.
Why had a drunken asshole decided to take his first kiss? Why was he reacting so weirdly?
And why did he just tuck tail speed walk away right after it happened without saying shit about it?
(Y/N) will probably tell their friends. They'll gossip and laugh at how the smartest person in their program was turned into a blushing, sputtering mess at the mere kiss of some drunk. Some overly confident, obnoxious, attractive drunk who's lips were soft as velvet.
The thought has him reeling. Rolling to the side, Scaramouche pulled a pillow over his head and groaned into it.
"I'm done guessing. What's wrong with you?" His inner monologue was broken by his cyan haired roommate.
"Nothing. Fuck off, Dottore." His words still muffled by the pillow.
"All your ceaseless brooding is keeping me distracted. I suggest you stop whining if you don't want me to give you more reasons to whine."
Silence.
That came out wrong, but it got Scaramouche to shut up so who would complain?
(⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)
It was a crush. That's what Dottore had said to him. It made jackshit sense though. Why would he like you? You were just someone he perceived as a slacker. It's possibly because you were the only one who ever showed interest in him. He'll probably get over it when he finds someone else to adore, but he couldn't.
Scaramouche was once again working on the thesis, on your bed. He didn't bring up the kiss. Maybe you'd forgotten about it? A small part of him hoped that you didn't though.
Finally, he decides to speak up. "I demand compensation."
You shoot him a confused look.
"What? Don't you remember?" Scaramouche scowls.
"You kissed me..."
"Did I?" You feign innocence.
"Do not make me repeat myself." He orders. "That was my first kiss. I demand some kind of compensation." His cheeks were heating up as it became harder and harder for him to look you in the eyes.
"Oh?" You bring your index finger below your lips in an expression of mock thoughtfulness.
Scaramouche's scowl deepens at your mocking finger below your lips. "Do not toy with me," he warns. "You took something and I want fair repayment."
You chuckle, enjoying his ruffled feathers. " And what is a first kiss worth these days?" Leaning back on your hands, you look him over appraisingly. "I'm not convinced it was really your first. You seemed to know what you were doing..."
His cheeks redden as he scrunches his nose at your audacity. "You're insufferable."
"And yet you enjoyed kissing me." You smirk. "Perhaps you even want more?"
Scaramouche's embarrassment only grows at your bold insinuation. "You presume too much, fool," he bites back, though his resolve seems weakened.
You shrug. "Suit yourself. I was just about to offer a date."
He narrows his eyes at you, as if trying to ascertain if this is some sort of trick. "A date?"
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gretavangroupie · 13 hours
Text
G13 - Finish What Ya Started
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Spinning Now: "Finish What Ya Started" by Van Halen (1988)
Pairing: Josh x Female Reader
Word Count: 8.2k
Description: You and Josh, your favorite new co worker, decide to share more than drinks as what started as a normal night turns into something you never expected.
Warnings: Smoking, Drinking, Cursing, Drug Use, Heavy Flirting, Praise, Dirty Talk, Touching, Mention of Breakups and Heartbreak, Sadness. Smut: Kissing, Oral M!Receiving
New town, new job, new life. 
That’s always how things went in the movies, and every time, the girl always got her happy ending.
How hard can it be, right?
After you’d managed to knock the first new off your list when you moved out of your ex’s house and to the next city over, the “job” part was next in line. After a week of filling out applications, you finally landed on the perfect selection, a serving job at Angelo’s Pizza.
You’d started this new job about about three months ago, and you finally felt like you were getting your footing with the flow of things. You’d been a server for as long as you could remember, but getting used to a new restaurant with new people and new menus and management could sometimes prove to be difficult. You were handling it with as much grace as you could, and the money was killer, so you stuck it out.
“You coming to the bar with me tonight?” your new favorite coworker, Josh asked as he stared into the kitchen from the expo window, rolling a pile of coasters across the countertop. 
“Mmmh…” You mumbled under your breath. “I dunno, I’ve been here since lunch and my feet are absolutely killing me.”
”Ugh don’t be such a prude, Y/N.” He responded, taking a pepperoni and cheese in one hand, and a supreme in the other. “We’ll be sitting down the whole time. Ya know. In barstools.”
“Shut the fuck up.” You teased, elbowing him in the ribs. “I guess so, but I can’t stay out late like last weekend. I open tomorrow.”
“Oooo, a clopen. That sucks. Well, I don’t. So I can get drunk, and you can watch me.” He flashed you a giant smile before taking off with the pizzas in hand, disappearing into the sea of people seated in the restaurant.
Josh had befriended you on your very first day, comforting you after your manager harshly scolded you for ringing something in incorrectly. 
“Don’t worry about it.” He’d said as you pouted in the walk-in. “I still fuck my shit up all the time. The cooks don’t really care, plus if you mess somethin’ up, we get to eat the fucked up pizza.” That was the only thing he said to you the entire day, but it really stuck with you, immediately making you feel a lot better about your tiny mistake. 
Now, after a few months of working side by side with Josh, you’d actually gotten to know each other fairly well, and you’d even go as far as calling him one of your good friends. You’d managed to get to know all your coworkers on a surface level, but Josh actually took the time to listen to you when you spoke, and showed real interest in the things you had to say, no matter how menial. 
He was cute, and around the same age as you, but there was something about Josh that you couldn’t put your finger on. It was something that struck you, making him stand out from the rest of the guys you worked with. His aura pulled you in, and the way his eyes sparkled in the neon that covered the walls of the restaurant didn’t help the fact that he sometimes made your heart skip a beat. You decided that it was just his looks, though, catching you off guard every once in a while as you were around him more. Most importantly, he made you feel welcome. Like a good friend should. 
The more you got to know Josh, the more open he became with you, and you quickly learned that his real personality outside of work was a little bit different than when you were on the clock. It’d become almost a habit, now, joining Josh at his favorite dive bar down the street when you’d both end up on the same closing schedule. It was like Groundhog Day, Josh would ask you to come out, you’d find an excuse to turn him down, but you always left Angelo’s with your hand in his as you tiredly dragged yourselves down the street. Sometimes other coworkers would join you, but it was always the two of you left shutting the bar down, joking and laughing with one another as you waited for your Ubers.
Josh was quickly becoming a norm for you. A fun, platonic norm. And though you were both flirty with one another, it never felt as though it would go past anything but that. Just friends. And you were very content with that. 
So tonight, as things wound down and the patrons closed out their tabs, you felt as if you really could use a nightcap or two to reward yourself for not making even one mistake on your orders today.
As you tied the oversized trash bag closed, you met eyes with Josh as he skillfully swiped the mop across the sticky, sauce-covered floor. 
He grinned when he saw you looking, making your stomach drop. “What?” He asked, biting his lower lip in as he staved off a full-on smile.
“Nothing. Just thinking about how you roped me into going out again tonight.” You said with faux aggravation.
Josh sucked in his teeth as he plopped the mop back into the big yellow bucket, rolling it over to where you stood. “Actually, I asked you out with me tonight for another reason. I wasn’t kidding when I said I was gonna get absolutely shit hammered, tonight.” His tone was serious rather than silly, and you instantly felt like something was wrong.
“What’s the other reason?” You pressed, lifting the bag from the can. “Everything okay?”
He shook his head and swallowed, opening the double doors to the kitchen to go and dump his bucket. You followed closely behind him with your trash. 
“Eh, not really. I’ll tell you all about it when we get there. Let’s lock this bitch up.” He flashed his eyes to the floor as he spoke, which was unlike him. He always spoke with such confidence and effortless ease. 
The two of you finished up your closing tasks and said goodnight to the line cooks, grabbing up your things from your lockers and stuffing your aprons back inside. Josh was quiet the whole time, again striking you as out of the ordinary. You hadn’t known Josh long, but you did know him well enough to know that something was off, and he wasn’t handling it well.
“Think I’m going straight for liquor tonight.” He said as you walked arm in arm down the crowded sidewalk to the bar. He tilted his head back, blowing a puff of air above you, watching as the cold air turned it into steam. 
“Damn.” You answered. “You must really be going through it, friend.” It was also unlike Josh to drink liquor; each time you were around him, he’d always chosen draft beer. 
You both stepped inside the dimly-lit dive bar, letting the heat warm your chilly bones from the cold autumn air. You both took up camp on two stools at the end of the bar, closest to the back wall. The bartender Roy approached you, throwing down two bar napkins in front of you as you got comfortable in your seats. 
“Evenin’, guys. Sex on the Beach andddd, Josh, we’ve got a Kolsch and a pale ale on tap, and also a—“
“Jack Daniel’s. Neat, please.” Josh interrupted Roy, causing him to contort his face with surprise. 
“Been waiting on you almost five years and never known you to drink liquor. But, alright…” Roy responded as he left for a minute, returning and placing your drinks in front of you. “I’ll keep the tab goin’.”
It was silent between the two of you for the first couple of minutes, both of you sipping your drinks as you relaxed your muscles from the long workday. Finally, you decided you would have to be the one to speak first, for once. 
“Okay, spill. What’s got you on the hard stuff tonight?” You asked, turning to face Josh in your stool. 
He leaned on his elbow, his tight black t-shirt squeezing his toned arm just right. “I got dumped last night.” 
You felt your eyebrows jump to your forehead. “What?! Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Josh…I didn’t even know you had a—“
“Nah, it’s okay. I could kinda tell shit was going sideways, anyway, ya know? Almost expected it. But, still doesn’t make it hurt any less.” He disconnected his eye contact, tilting his glass back all the way and finishing off the last bit of his whiskey. 
You were almost stunned speechless. You hadn’t seen Josh show any emotion that even came close to sadness before, and you struggled with how you were going to react. 
Roy brought the bottle of Jack over, filling Josh’s glass with another two fingers. 
“How long were you together?” You asked, tiptoeing with caution, given that he might not want to go into much detail. 
“Four and a half years.” He said blankly. 
“My god, are you serious?!” You choked out with disbelief. 
He nodded hard as he kept his eyes trained on the bar in front of you, spinning his stool in tiny tight circles. “Yeah. Long time.” He sipped his drink again. 
“I really am sorry, Josh. That’s a long time to be with someone for it to just...” You placed a hand on his arm as you spoke. 
He crossed his arms in front of him. “Yeah, it’s fucked.” He growled, leaning back in his stool. 
“You wanna talk about it?” You asked. 
“No, that’s why we’re here.” He slammed his hands on the bar top, motioning for Roy to refill your already almost empty cocktail. 
Roy brought your new drink over, stirring the drink with the tiny straw for you. Josh lifted his glass into the air, forcefully clinking it against yours. “To moving on!” He said, finishing the drink off once again. 
——
An hour or so later, you and Josh had managed to find yourselves significantly intoxicated once again, engaged in a deep passionate debate. 
“Ever since they banned smoking indoors, the American bar scene has been fucked!” Josh drunkenly yelled overtop of the loud music and large crowd that had joined you inside the bar. 
You had to laugh. “Josh, not everybody loves breathing that shit in! It makes some people really sick!” You challenged. 
“Ah, hell. You come into a bar, you expect to be around smoke, all there is to it. All there is to it!” He crossed his arms and shrugged his shoulders in defiance of your argument. 
“You can go outside and smoke, Josh. Easy as that. Just get over it!” The two of you were glassy-eyed and giggly, feeling your liquor take hold of you as you talked. Josh brought about a warmth in you that you’d never experienced before, and you’d be lying if you said your…attraction? to him wasn’t amplified when you were drunk. 
No, not attraction. 
Something else…
You had no idea what to label the feeling, because you’d never felt it ever before. You took it in stride, though, embracing the completely new emotion as it came. It was almost like you craved his attention, and fed off of him engaging with you. You wanted to please him, but not in such a way that was sexual. 
…You didn’t think. 
No. You just craved his recognition. Wanted his eyes on you and no one else. Wanted to make him laugh, be the one who made him forget about everything else. It wasn’t a jealousy thing, it was a matter of possessiveness. You wanted to protect him like a best friend. And anyone who dared cause him unhappiness would have to deal with you. 
Is this insane thinking?! Am I crazy for this? You drunkenly asked yourself as you washed your hands in the bar bathroom sink, giving yourself a disapproving look in the mirror. Probably, maybe…but he seems to feel the same about you... You had noticed that the second you’d inadvertently struck up a conversation with another guy at the bar, Josh quickly stole your attention away again, bringing up a whole new topic of conversation that had nothing to do with the last. 
He charmed you. Drew you in. Challenged your thoughts and opinions…made you talk like you’d never talked before. Laugh like you’d never laughed. 
“You’re really smart, Y/N. I didn’t really notice that about you, before.” Josh smiled as he leaned over toward you on the bar. His cheeks were tinted the prettiest pink from the alcohol. 
“Uhh, thanks, I guess?” You chortled, feigning being offended. 
“No I mean, you surprise me. Keep me guessing, every time I turn around. Never had a friend like that before. I’m usually so bored with everyone I meet. You make me like, think. Ya know?” He explained as you nodded sweetly in understanding. You knew you were blushing. 
“Last call!!” You heard Roy yell across the still-crowded room. You made blurry eye contact with Josh again. 
“Damn, we didddit agin.” You stammered. “Let me pay, you’ve had a hard couple’a days.” 
“No no no, no you don’t. I asked you here, my treat. Plus, my drinks were fuckin’ pricey tonight.”
“But Josh, let me treat you, for once...” You jutted your bottom lip out as you begged him. You watched as his eyes landed on your lips, stealing his attention again. Suddenly, you felt excited. 
“Alright, alright. But I’m leavin’ the tip.” He agreed. “I just needed some sympathy…that’s all I wanted tonight.”
“And you got it, didn’t you? You forgot all about your messy breakup?”
“For the most part, yes.” He laughed. “But I like to look at the long run, ya know? Like to take each step, one by one. Let myself live in the sadness.”
You scoffed as you signed your name on the receipt and pulled your coat on. “Psh, Josh, didn’t you just cheers me and say ‘to moving on’?”
He stood from his stool, wrapping his arm around your neck tightly. The smell of his cologne mixed with the remnants of pizza filled your senses, temporarily making you dizzy as he squeezed you in his grip. 
“I did, Y/N, I did. But I’m also drunk, now. So. And also, I don’t really wanna go home yet. ‘M gonna walk you to your Uber then hit up Chauncey’s…they stay open ‘til 2.”
You turned in his grasp, your face within inches of his as he held you tightly. “Don’t go back out, Josh. No sense in drinkin’ your sorrows away by yourself.” It felt like you were outside of your own body; all you wanted was to go home and strip down and crawl into bed, but for some reason, your mouth told Josh that apparently you didn’t want to go home, either. “Come back to my place. We’ll have one more drink, and we can share the blunt that TJ gave me yesterday.”
“TJ? The linecook?” Josh seemed surprised. “You letting strangers give you drugs now, Y/N?”
“He’s hardly a stranger, Josh. Why, you jealous?” You teased, while also testing the waters of what the hell this feeling the two of you apparently shared could actually be. 
“Fuck no, I’m not jealous. I’m…I…” Josh opened his mouth, but nothing came out after that. “I don’t know, I just—“ You were still tightly wrapped up in the crook of his elbow, his face so close to yours that you could smell the liquor on his breath as he struggled to speak. 
You decided to save him. “It’s alright Josh. You don’t have to come over. I’ll smoke it allllll by myself…” you sneakily wrapped your arm around his back, giving it a couple playful pats. 
He looked down at you through his lashes, his jaw clenched tightly together. “You really want me to come over?”
You nodded. “I do. Come on, it’ll be fun.” More than anything, you wanted him to know you were the reason he had such a good night, and the reason he was able to forget about his breakup.
“Okay, jackass. You talked me into it. Let’s go get high.” He released you from his grasp as you confirmed your Uber on your phone, and your overwhelming satisfaction of claiming his attention again propelled you out the door. 
——
“Cute place. You decorate it yourself?” Josh teased as you both entered your apartment. It was only half-decorated and you hardly had any furniture, spending most of your days working and saving up money to finish furnishing it. 
“Shut up, dick head!” You shoved him backwards as he laughed. “I haven’t finished making it cute yet.” You pulled the bottle of liquor from the cabinet, shaking the little bit that was left. “I know you’ve been drinking whiskey, but…vodka’s all I’ve got.”
“Ah, it’ll work.” Josh responded, plopping down on your couch. “M’already fucked with a hangover tomorrow, might as well do it up.” You caught sight of his pretty light brown curls sitting on top of his head, and you felt another rush of that strange excitement soar through you. 
You made the two drinks and joined him on the couch, pulling the blunt up under your nose as you breathed in its earthy scent. Josh took the drink from your hand, raising his eyebrows as he watched you smell the rolled marijuana. 
“TJ usually has good shit, I will say.” He winked, sipping his drink. 
You pulled your feet up underneath you on the couch, scooting yourself closer to him. “Thought you said I shouldn’t take drugs from strangers…”
“I never said you shouldn’t, I just meant that next time you should get your weed from me.” He spoke without a care, taking the blunt from your hand and bringing it to his own nose. 
“Ah, well I was unaware I could do that, Joshua.” You snatched it back from him, taking the lighter from the table in front of you and lighting the end of the blunt. You inhaled the smoke slowly, noticing that Josh hadn’t responded to you. 
You glanced at him, finding the most devastating half smile on his face. You swore you felt your skin tingle. 
“Did you just call me by my government name, Y/N?” He whispered, leaning his head down to you. 
You exhaled the smoke you didn’t realize you were holding, nodding slowly. “Yeah, you mad about it?”
You passed him the blunt. “Nah, kinda liked the way it sounded, actually.” You watched as his lips made a perfect O around the tip of the blunt, and you found yourself wondering what kind of chapstick he used to get them to look…like that…
You felt your eyes grow heavy as your first hit found you, the THC entering your system quickly. Josh must have noticed, as he giggled at your appearance. “Told you TJ had good shit.”
“I swear to god I’m already fuckin’ high…” you laughed, taking another big hit. 
“Mmm, no baby, you’re crossed. But not all the way. Yet.” Josh’s voice was gritty and buttery all at the same time. And the fact that he called you baby had you feeling that same feeling again. He calls everybody baby, though…all the girls at work…you’re not special. 
The two of you sat and smoked until the blunt was a roach, and the air around you was thick with haziness. Your entire body was heavy and floaty, and you swore you could feel the blood pumping through your extremities. The conversation with Josh was so easy, so effortless, and the way the two of you held the complete attention of one another continued to astound you. 
“So tell me about you. What’s your real story?” Josh asked, the both of you sitting facing one another completely, now. 
You sipped your vodka drink. “What do you mean, real story?”
“I only know a little bit about you, where did you come from? What’s in your past?”
You took a deep breath. “Well, believe it or not, Josh, I kinda just got broken up with recently, too.”
“No way, you’re kidding. When? What happened?” He pressed. 
“Ahh, about a month before I started at Angelo’s. I’m from about twenty miles away, up north a bit. Came here looking to start completely fresh. Still close enough to my family, if I need them. Ya know…” you trailed off. Josh’s eyes were telling you to continue. 
“I got dumped, too. After a year of being with him. I thought we were serious, but apparently not. It didn’t hurt me too bad, I’m alright. Liking my new life pretty well, actually.”
Josh dramatically leaned back on the couch cushion, throwing his free hand over his face. “Ugh, god…how embarrassing. You handled bein’ dumped like a goddamned rockstar. I’m over here down in the dumps.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s okay, Josh. Four and a half years is a lot longer than one…”
“You’re right, I guess.” He sat back up, bringing his attention back to you. “So what was his reason? What was his last straw?” He asked, moving his face closer to yours. Your body was vibrating from the alcohol and the weed, and the presence of Josh sitting so close to you on your couch. You were positively buzzing. 
“He uh, didn’t really give me one. Just said it was over.” You whispered, feeling your emotions flying all over the place. Josh’s hand reached up, twirling a piece of your hair between his fingers. “He also said I was a bad kisser, or something stupid.”
Josh winced at your words. “A bad kisser? I highly doubt that, Y/N…” 
“And why do you doubt that?” You giggled. 
“Because. I have a hard time taking my eyes off your lips, I can only imagine how hard it would be to take my lips off of them…” he smirked a little, laughing through his nose. 
“You’re fuckin’ stoned.” You laughed, leaning your face onto his hand. 
“And? I speak nothing but the truth, baby.”
“Mmmhm, yeah. Shut up.” You complained. 
“I’m serious. I bet you really are a good kisser. That guy was just…stupid.”
“Maybe I’m a horrible kisser, how would I ever know?” You shrugged, feeling your body about to jump out of your skin simply from having this conversation with Josh. 
He held his first two fingers up, motioning for you to come here. “Come on. Show me how you like to kiss.” 
“What?! No, I’m not gonna do that.” You blushed, pulling away from him with shyness. 
“Baby, it’s me. I’m just trying to judge your kissing skills. I’ll be completely honest with you, tell you if that guy was right or not.” Josh said, holding his hands out to the sides. 
You stopped, staring at Josh through your slit eyelids, trying to figure him out. He met you with sincere eyes, and though you were both extremely intoxicated, you didn’t feel uncomfortable in the least. 
“I’m serious. Just kiss me.” He said matter of factly. “S’no big deal.” 
You took a deep breath, feeling the air surrounding you heavy with normalcy, but also heavy with yearning. 
You slowly pulled yourself in closer to him, gently wetting your lips as your mind went back and forth on whether or not to do this. Your breath became a little chopped, nerves bursting through the wall of your drunken carelessness. 
Finally you were close enough to feel his breath on your lips, and your hands naturally shot up to cup his jaw. He clenched it, his eyes falling heavy again as his breath caught. Your heart was absolutely pounding from your chest. 
“Do it.” He whispered. “Show me.”
You finally let your lips press gently to his, your hands still cupping his jaw, as his hands sat comfortably in his lap. The feeling of them was exactly what you had imagined, soft, supple, and sweet, with the tiniest bit of sting on them from the leftover liquor. You finally exhaled, pulling away a bit to gauge his reaction. 
“You can get into it, baby.” He smiled, urging you to push through your nerves. “I’m just here to help, s’just me…” his voice was like honey, the sound of it tearing through your body as he motivated you. 
You leaned in again, this time letting yourself be a little more brazen, a little more steadfast as you worked to prove your ex wrong. Worked to impress Josh. Worked to show him. You opened your mouth a little, letting your tongue skirt across his bottom lip. The flavor of him almost knocked you down. 
You began to get into it some more, letting your high take over, and letting your guard down as you found yourself really, really enjoying kissing him. You perched up a little bit moving to your knees to get a better stance. 
“Mmmhmm… keep goin’ baby…” Josh mumbled when you broke away for a second. His words urged you on, and you felt brave enough to push your tongue further into his mouth, but only a little. You didn’t want to overwhelm, just experiment. His tongue met yours in the process, tasting each other for the very first time. 
Your hands curled up in his hair, squeezing at the roots a bit. He let out a little whine, so quiet that you almost didn’t even hear it. It ignited something inside you again, and you knew you had to drive it home. Had to prove yourself. You pulled away for a second, hissing in air as you bit his bottom lip, pulling it out a little and making eye contact before pressing into him again, both of you moving in such unison that you were fully involved in the sultry kiss, now. 
At this point you felt like you were teetering on the thin line of platonic kissing; you were still trying to prove yourself, but also…he tasted so good…
You felt the need to be touched. You reached down and grabbed Josh’s wrists, pulling them up to rest on you- one hand on your thigh, and the other around the back of your neck. You wanted reciprocation. He obliged, and as you licked into his mouth, his hand squeezed into your thigh, strong and needing. His fingers felt like burning embers on your leg, and you wished that you had changed into shorts when you got home. 
His hand pulled at the back of your neck, burying your mouths further into one another. “Fuck, baby…he was wrong, you proved him so wrong…” Josh said, smiling against your lips as he delved back in. Your mind was swimming from his words of praise, and you decided that though this was simply an act between friends, you knew that you could kiss him all day long, never tiring of the feeling of his lips on yours. You were completely surrounded by him, by his warming presence. His scent, his sounds, his touch… It was all too much. You felt like you were drowning in him, but you didn’t dare try to pull yourself from his waters. 
Your hands squeezed at his hair one last time as you let them drift down his cheeks and neck, tickling the back of his neck before rolling across his shoulders. You slowly brought them down to his pecs, and finally rested them on his cheeks again, pulling his face away from yours for a split second before landing one last peck. 
When you finally disconnected, you took in the sight of him…hair disheveled, eyes black and glazed, and his hands still rested gently in the places that you put them. 
“Holy fuck…” he breathed. 
“Oh my god, was it bad? It was bad, wasn’t it? He was right, I’m a horrible kis—“ you were completely cut off by Josh’s lips on yours again, this time forcefully pulling you into him. This kiss was pleading, unbridled, and wanting, and each time you pulled away, you both were panting with want. 
“What the fuck are we doing?” You breathed when you broke away. 
“Kissing contest.” He answered, his hand respectfully staying on the back of your neck. “I think I’m winning, though…” 
“Mmm, I don’t know about that…” you said with a bit more confidence in yourself after seeing how you made him feel. 
“Yeah you’re right.” He agreed through an inhale. “You’re kicking my ass at this experiment.” He drove his tongue into your mouth again, but it didn’t make you want to retract…it made you want to pull it in further. You began to feel the heat that the two of you were emanating, and the sweat that was forming on your skin. 
You’d be lying if you said you weren’t completely turned on, but you would never let him know that. You couldn’t. You’re just friends. One friend helping another get over his ex by having a kissing contest. Makes total sense. 
Finally you pulled away again, covering your mouth with your hand. You laughed, making Josh in turn laugh with you. “Well? What’s the verdict? Was he right?” You asked. 
“Fuck no, he wasn’t right. You’re a hell of a kisser, Y/N.” Josh’s smile stretched all the way across his face, completely blissed out in his high. “God damn, you left me a panting mess, baby.”
Your heart stopped at his words, feeling more confidence in yourself than you’d felt in a long, long time. Suddenly, the wildest idea to ever come across your mind escaped right through your lips. 
“Josh, we’re just good friends, right?” You asked. 
“Yeah, baby. Real good friends.” He wiped his hand across his mouth before extending both arms across the back of your couch. 
“Do you—do you care if I finish what I started?” You asked in an absolute moment of weakness. The look on his face turned up into surprise, and you weren’t sure how he was going to react to your question. 
“What uh, what do you mean, Y/N?” 
You moved toward him again, wanting to feel him again. Feel his hands on you again. Be the center of all his attention again. 
“Can you judge something else for me, Josh? I’ve always wondered how well I…performed…and who better to be the judge than my very good friend? Who will be completely honest with me?” 
WHO even are you?! You felt like a person outside your own body. The confidence he was giving you was…
“This ain’t no way to treat the broken-hearted, baby…” he replied, his voice a soft breath of air as his head lulled backwards. You paused again, unsure how to take him. “But I’ll be your judge…”
“Really? You will?” You asked, feeling vulnerable, but also wanting to show out for him. 
“Mhm. If that’s what you really want…” He bit his lower lip into his mouth, letting his eyes fall onto your lips like they had been doing all night. 
“Just friends…” you reiterated. 
“Just friends.” He parroted, lightly tapping your cheek with his hand. 
This was absolutely something you never did, and definitely wasn’t something you could ever even see yourself doing with Josh, of all people. You were supposed to be making him forget about his ex, letting him talk through it… hell, he was just dumped twenty-four hours ago. But there was something other-worldly spurring you on, whispering in your ear to just do it. And he was letting you. Was it wrong? Maybe, probably… but honestly, where was the harm in it? You were both obviously into each other, and as long as you were just making each other happy, you didn’t see anything wrong with it.
Besides, this new need to make him think about nothing but you at every single second was making your head spin, and you wanted his focus completely on you, right now. You moved to press your lips to his again, letting things naturally heat up so that you could continue on with your intentions. You took a deep breath, confidently removing yourself, and placing yourself in the floor in front of him. It was at this second that you were extremely thankful for your liquid courage, and the fact that you were too stoned to care about much else besides pleasing Josh. He almost made it easy. 
“Ten.” Josh said out of nowhere. 
“What?” you asked. 
“I give your kissing a ten out of ten. Seriously.” He said, smiling from the corner of his mouth as he ran his hand along your arm, peering down at you as you kneeled on the floor. 
You felt your face turn beet red, and you halfway didn’t really believe him. 
“Stop playing, you don’t have to be nice.” You erred.
“M’not just being nice. Seriously, I rate it a ten.” He stated, and you knew by the sincerity in his voice that he was telling the truth.
“Wow. Didn’t expect that, honestly.” you pulled a few strands of hair behind your ear. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Now, you gonna finish what ya started, or not?” There was a darkness in his tone that you hadn’t noticed yet, and it made your stomach turn over with nerves. But even more so, it lit a fuse in your chest that was slowly burning, ready to explode at any given second. And with each passing minute, you wanted to impress him even more. 
You maneuvered yourself on your knees, gripping his thighs and pulling them apart so that you could place yourself between them. Your hands stayed there on his legs, squeezing and kneading at his muscles as you moved your hands closer and closer to where you both really wanted them to be. You could almost physically see him getting harder through his dark jeans, and you could hear his breathing picking up, too. 
You let your hands drift to his groin, squeezing the muscles there as he leaned down in his seat, giving you extra space as his head fell back on the cushions. You found the button on his jeans, pulling the fabric sideways and undoing the button with one hand and unzipping the zipper. “Damn, alright…” Josh laughed, holding his hands up. “Show off.”
You took that as a tiny win, and decided to keep it going, playing on his words from earlier. ‘You keep me guessing at every turn…’
You pushed your hair back behind your shoulders, and leaned yourself down, letting your mouth meet his boxer-covered dick. You nipped your teeth lightly at it, making him hiss. You could tell just from this little bit of contact that he was well-endowed, and you felt your mouth physically watering for him. You needed to taste him. Your lips bounced around, peppering little kisses all over… the indirect contact making his hips jut up a little. 
You sat back, motioning with your hands. “Pull them down for me.” you demanded of him, and he gave you the sneakiest smirk, leaning back and pushing his pants and boxers down far enough to spring himself free. 
You weren’t wrong. He was perfectly sized, and it reassured you that you were okay with going forward with this. What you did notice, though, was he wasn’t as hard as you wanted him to be. Your hands rested on his thighs again as you sized him up, licking your lips as you prepared yourself. 
Josh had been the one urging you on all night, but suddenly, it felt like there had been a little bit of a shift. You finally brought your moistened lips to him, licking little circles around his tip, starting slowly at first, then picking up a little bit of speed. You swirled and gently suckled, and you felt him take in a big breath of air into his lungs. You glanced up at him, finding him looking up at the ceiling as he bit his lips. 
“What’sa matter, Josh? You okay?” you pressed, knowing that you could stop at any second, if that was what he wanted. 
“No, yeah. I’m fine. I’m sorry, I just… this is the first time someone else…since…” he didn’t need to say anything more.
“God, yeah. I’m sorry, your breakup is so fresh, I’m sure this is more mental than anything, for you…” you agreed as you sat back. “We don’t have to–”
“No. Yes we do, Y/N. I’m just…” You could tell Josh was having a hard time with his words again, for the second time tonight. 
“Just what? You can tell me…”
He swallowed, placing a sweet hand on the side of your face. “This is the first time I’ve um…been…with a woman…in a very long time.”
“Oh.” You muttered, his sentiment catching you off guard a little. You hadn’t realized you never even asked the name of his ex, let alone any details about the relationship.
“But it’s okay, Y/N…” He smiled, letting his thumb brush your cheek. “I may be wallowing in my sorrows, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want this, want you to do this. Just…in my head a little bit.” He admitted, putting a hole through your heart.
You sighed. “It doesn’t feel wrong?” Your voice was tiny as it escaped you. 
He quickly shook his head side to side as he layed back on his elbow behind his head. “No. That’s what’s making me freak out a little, it doesn’t feel wrong in the least.” He swallowed. “Maybe I…Maybe I wasn’t as in love as I thought I was.”
You smiled a pitiful smile as you rested your elbows on his knees, taking a deep, recentering breath of your own. 
“You’re really fuckin’ pretty, Y/N.” He complimented you out of the blue, his thumb still grazing your cheek. “And I’m really into you.”
“You are?” You asked.
“Yeah. I know we said we’re friends, but friends can do this. Right? Doesn’t stop the fact that I’m attracted to you.” His glossy words made your stomach do flips again as you realized maybe his feelings were the exact same as yours. Unexplainable, but still overwhelmingly good.
“Yeah. I really think friends can do this.” You agreed. And you were serious. If you were going to be this person for Josh, then he could also in turn be this person for you. 
“Plus, the feeling of your lips on my cock just now…” He laughed through his nose. “Might be in competition with your ten out of ten kissing. And you hadn’t even…” He stopped there, biting both his lips into his mouth as he slid his hips down again. 
Good god, you’d hoped he would have a little bit of a dirty mouth. 
“You want me to keep going?” You asked. 
“Fuck yeah, I do. I gotta judge your skill, don’t I?” He played, removing his hand from your cheek and running it through your hair. He gripped it a little, making you stiffen your neck. Your eyes flashed to his, and you didn’t even need to say anything, he knew what you meant. He nodded, giving you the go ahead, and you prayed that he wouldn’t remove his hand from tangling up in your hair. 
You slowly leaned down to him again, starting things up just as you had before. Your tongue swirled on his tip, wetting it in circles as you let the saliva build up in your mouth. Around and around you took it, descending further and further onto him with every rotation. You heard him breathe out, his hips shaking a little beneath you. As you got as far as you could get, you pursed your lips down, tightening them around the base of his cock before sucking hard, pulling up and off of him completely. His hand tightened in your hair, showing you that he was liking it so far. 
He let out a groan, followed by a little laugh. “Fuck yeah, Y/N…”
You quickly found a rhythm, letting your head begin to bob as you worked your tongue and cheeks, alternating forceful suction mixed with light little pops of your lips. His hips were jutting with every movement, and the sounds that were coming from him were enough to keep you going, keep you striving to impress him…
You took him in your hand, gripping at the base and using the saliva that had dripped down as lubrication to move your hand, twisting and pumping it. “Jesus Christ, you’re…” You took a second to glance up at him, seeing his jaw tightly clenched and his chest heaving with labored breaths. He brought his other hand down, pulling the hair that had drifted down away from your face, pulling it all back to the nape of your neck and holding it tightly there. You nodded, letting him know you were okay with him guiding your movements. 
“Mhm.” You hummed on him. “Show me how you like it.”
He let out a choke of breath and readjusted in his seat, spreading his legs wider for you. He gripped a little harder on your hair, pulling you up and across his stomach, your faces almost touching as he brought his mouth close. He didn’t say anything, just hissed through his teeth as he scanned over your face. He then used a little bit of force to push your head back down to where it was, and you resumed your work. 
Fuck, what the hell is happening… your chemistry with Josh was absolutely off the chain. You felt like you would follow every command he would ever give you, let him use you in the worst ways, completely trusting him to do as he pleased. You were absolutely yearning to satisfy him. 
“I’ll show you exactly how I like it baby, but this is your show, remember? You’re calling the shots…” he growled, his voice deeper and more grating than it was earlier. You shrugged one shoulder, replacing your hand around his base. You moved it up and down opposite of your mouth, making his whole body start to shake. Your tongue worked on him, as your mouth drifted down as far as it could possibly go, with the help of Josh’s light guidance.
The weed had contributed to your slow, languid movements while the alcohol made your inhibitions fly out the window… the beautiful combo of the crossfade sending you both into a blurry and slow-motioned entanglement. You swore you could listen to his noises and praises on repeat. “So fuckin’ pretty, Y/N… so fuckin’ pretty…” He mumbled, lightly thrusting himself into your mouth as your neck began to ache a little. “Slow and steady, just like that…”
He puffed out a quick breath with a blow of his lips, and you could tell that he was enjoying himself just as much as you were. Normally, you would finish up the job, and expect repayment, but getting Josh to even feel the tiniest bit of pleasure at your hand was enough. It was that draw, that need to make him feel good. Keeping him and him only in the spotlight. And if you had to guess, you were doing a pretty good job at it.
After a few seconds, his movements became jostled, and his once slow grinding movements started to falter. You felt him start to throb in your mouth, and you knew it wouldn’t be long until he was crumbling beneath you, all at the mercy of your mouth. 
“Hey, you want me to–” he said, suddenly shuddering. 
You nodded again, pleading with him to let it all go. You wanted the whole thing, wanted him to have the full experience. You needed to see what he tasted like. 
His breath started to pick up as he gripped your hair tighter, his hips pushing his dick further into your mouth as you let him graze the back of your throat, tears pouring from the sides of your eyes. “Come on baby, come on… just a little bit longer…fuck…” 
Finally, he was letting it all go, filling up your mouth as you swallowed his bitter-sweetness down, savoring the taste of him on your tongue. His whole body went rigid as he came, shaking and jerking as you worked to make sure not a drop was left behind. You squeezed your hand around him, pulling him up into your mouth. His whines were like music to your ears, pathetic and pitiful as he worked to come back down to earth. 
“Son of a bitch, Y/N… that was…” he said as you sat back up, wiping your mouth off with the back of your hand. He caught your jaw in his grasp, squeezing your cheeks together and forcing you to open your mouth. He pulled you closer, bringing you in for a heated kiss that left you smoldering for him. 
When you finally pulled away, you met eyes with him, and you could tell he was completely blissed out. “S’been a long time since I’ve had anything like that.” He admitted, pulling your back up to sit by him on the couch again. 
He tucked himself back in his boxers but decided to forgo buttoning back up. “Really? Even in a four and a half year long relationship?” You asked. 
“Ah, I dunno. We were long distance, so… it was few and far between but. Really I meant being with someone who actually showed passion about making me feel good. You know what I mean?”
You couldn’t help but smile. That was exactly what you wanted out of this. For Josh to feel that you wanted to be there. 
“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. I just…wanted to make you feel good.” You admitted, shrugging one shoulder up as you brushed your disheveled hair back into place. “So, what’s my rating, huh? Give it to me straight.”
Josh closed one eye and looked up with the other as if he was thinking really hard. “Uh, nine and a half.”
Your mouth fell slack, and you felt the soreness in your jaw joints. “Ah! Why the half?!” You argued. “Not a ten?”
He chuckled. “Would be a ten, but I only took away the half because I know that I won’t be able to feel you like that all the time.” You both stared at one another as you let his words sink in. 
Could you, though?
“And because I feel like you were holding back, a little. Weren’t you?” He pressed. His statement took you by surprise, because he was right. 
“...Maybe…”
“You shouldn’t have. It’s just me, remember. Guess you’ll have to show up and show out next time. See if you can get a perfect ten.” He said with nonchalance. 
“Next time?” You spat without a thought. 
He shrugged, squeezing his hand around your thigh. “Sure, why not? If you want to, of course. Might be fun to have a little situation we’re both comfortable with… no strings attached type thing…”
You ran over the idea in your head, not really seeing anything wrong with it. You nodded, agreeing with his outlandish proposal.
“But, there is one thing, Y/N.” He swallowed, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. “Obviously I… um. I didn’t make you feel good, tonight. But, just give me some–”
You cupped your hand over Josh’s mouth. “Josh, honey, shut up. You don’t have to explain it to me. I understand, and it’s okay. If we’re gonna do this, it's all gonna be in good fun, right?”
He nodded from behind your hand. “Right.” He mumbled. 
“And I certainly didn’t feel uncomfortable with you, so. I’m pretty positive we could just sit here and look at each other and we would have a good time.” You laughed, pulling your hand from his face. He caught your hand in his, and gave it a sweet squeeze. 
“Not sure I’d be able to sit by you for too long without something happening. You’re a fuckin’ treat, Y/N. I swear.” His eyes traveled down your body again, and you watched his gears turn as his gaze drifted over your breasts. “Thank you, for tonight.”
“Thank you.” You whispered. “We still friends?”
He took your chin between his fingers. “Yeah. Good friends.”
As the air between you finally started to settle and the intoxication turned into sobriety, you realized that the night was nearly about to turn into morning. You didn’t have to be at work until 11, so you were going to be able to get at least a little bit of sleep before your shift tomorrow. 
“It’s too late to get an Uber, Josh. Just stay here.” You more demanded than suggested, pulling the blanket from the back of the couch and tossing it overtop of his lap. You stood, stretching your body as you made your way toward your bedroom. 
“What, you not gonna invite me to your bed?” He asked, throwing you off. 
“Uhh, I mean, sure–”
“I’m kidding, Y/N. We’re friends. Friends don’t sleep in beds together. Friends sleep on couches.” You watched as he burrowed himself under the puffy blanket and made himself horizontal.
“Maybe one day you’ll end up in my bed.” You tossed the joke over your shoulder, walking down the short hallway. 
“And maybe one day you’ll get a perfect ten.”
-xo, Jules
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dingodad · 2 days
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generally discussions about "what's canon / what's not canon" as if that actually means anything piss me offff like i think as a society we have allowed the idea of "alternate universes" "separate continuities" "different canons" to sour our conceptions of what serialised fiction can actually achieve. tbh at the end of the day everything that has been published about a given world or a given group of characters or whatever is part of "a canon" and the reader has full control over which parts they choose to read / not read or analyse / not analyse. but what pisses me aurf the MOST is when the idea of "canon" takes on a life of its own completely detached from anything material and you have anime fans arbitrarily deciding "oh this anime movie ""isnt canon"" because it doesn't appear in the manga" or people throwing around words like ""technically"" saying shit like "technicallyyyyy this tie-in comic book / game / novelisation isn't canon to the movie" when in reality there is no "technically" it's just a bunch of geeks jerking themselves off. anyway my point is that it hurts my feefees when people jerk off about which homestuck spinoffs are and aren't canon when basically all of them are pretty open about where they fit in continuity and i even did all my research and wrote it down on the wiki for all of you. it hurts my feefees when you don't read the work i do on the wiki. is that what you want to do. hurt my feefees
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mrtequilasunset · 27 days
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Listen as someone who's been posting art on the internet for a long time, genuinely do not add things like "reblogs > likes" or "likes do nothing" "if you don't reblog and just like I'll block you" because genuinely it is so offputting. People are gonna share it if they want to share it and you can't force that, trying will only have the opposite effect and if you're really that concerned about reaching an audience then the best thing to do is probably not alienate most of them by making them feel obligated to share your work.
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chirpsythismorning · 1 month
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Fun fact: In the original pitch for Stranger Things, El had a little brother.
After being rejected by almost 20 studios for the Montauk pilot, the Duffers were finally green-lit by Netflix. It was at this time that they began casting and then writing the first season officially, which included reworking a lot of that first episode.
This led to the removal of the brother reference, and with it, removing any sort of arc El could have had about her apparent brother.
But the thing about this moment, is that it might not have been scrapped entirely...
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Going into the final season, no one can explain why or how El recognized Will back in 1x02. And while there are plenty of things on the show that are left unexplained, with a small portion likely left that way with the intention to uncover it later, what sets this moment apart from the rest is that there are very few possibilities here.
Because for starters, the story presents El's ability to see people in the void in s1 as requiring either a picture of that person for reference, or having met that person before.
But when El see's this picture of Will, she's never met him before. Or maybe she has, but we wouldn't know because they never showed us. They could have just not done this scene at all, given that it's clearly a copy/paste/edit of something scrapped from the pitch. Or they could have even still included it, but explained it.
One explanation could be that the lab had shown El a picture of Will before, similar to what they did with the Russian agent they wanted to spy on. But then that begs to question, why would the lab show El a picture of Will? Why would they want to see what he was doing? That alone is incriminating in and of itself, implying that Will is more connected to the lab than we realize.
The only other, and frankly most likely explanation, would be that El stumbled across Will at some point on her journey between escaping the lab and Will going missing. This is actually something that happens in The Other Side comic, which explores all the things Will may have experienced during his time in the Upside Down.
Though it’s worth noting the comics aren’t technically canon, and I highly doubt they would outright spoil everything in relation to Will’s time there, years before it was intended to be revealed. But still, let's humor this for a moment given that I do think Will's time in the UD is going to be very relevant in s5, which means it's highly likely they will finally address how exactly El saw him.
Basically, in the comic, Will see’s El walking through the woods, almost apparition like, glowing as she passes by, while also sporting the Benny’s burgers shirt. This means they would have crossed passed within a short span of time, between when El escaped Benny’s when the agents arrived, but before she was found by the boys.
Though it’s worth noting that we’re seeing this all from Will’s perspective. This means from the UD, Will was capable of seeing El on the other side, despite them being on different sides. And not only that, but she also looks back at him.
What confuses me about this, is that it doesn’t make sense for El to be in the woods, only to randomly decide to pop in to the void for a moment. She was trying to escape the lab and everything that came with it. I doubt she had any desire to lurk back there for some reason, not until someone encouraged her to. Not to mention, it would make no sense for her to go there and see Will if she wasn't even looking for him in the first place. And so this would mean Will and El could see each other, with Will being in the UD, and El being on the other side.
While it does seem pretty far off, given that you would think Will and El wouldn't be able to see each other from different sides, it is true in the story that El not only recognizes Will, but knows that he is in danger. She mentions that he is hiding specifically.
Which means she has likely seen him within the last 24 hours regardless.
This, in combination with Will being able to respond to El in the void at the end of the season in Castle Byers, when no one else outside of Terry and flayed-Billy have been able to, seems to imply that there is indeed something special about Will that makes him capable of communicating with El from the UD. Not only that, but El also seems to have an ability to be in this constant knowing state of how Will is doing, without even checking again to confirm. She's just certain of it. And she seems terrified about it.
Going forward, El never uses a picture of Will to find him. She never did. And more often than not, they don’t show us what she see’s either, not until the very end. And that’s the moment they reveal that he was able to communicate with her.
Again, there was really no reason to have El recognize Will. If anything it complicates things. But the fact that they chose to introduce this concept, with a scene from the original pitch that was related to El’s younger brother, with her pointing at his name cryptically, startling Benny, only to revamp it and have El not say anything at all while pointing at the picture of Will, startling Mike… It just really makes you stop and think.
Which brings me to the other aspect of this that might have people doubting, which is that El’s brother was originally younger than her.
We know Will is not younger than El, so how could this apply to him?
Well, it might be helpful to consider that in the original script, El was actually 10 years old, while the boys were always 12. Meaning that for some reason, they decided to age her up to the age of the boys, aka the same age as Will…
Ever since @erikiara80 shared this brother discovery with me, I have been sort of reeling. It then led to other little discoveries of changes they made between Montauk and Stranger Things.
It’s important to understand that the Montauk bible and the original script precedes what we ended up with in the final product, with it finally changing and evolving months, maybe even a year since that original vision. Even casting occurred before writing started for the first season. We know this because casting announcements were made in June and August of 2015, with writing not starting until August going into early 2016, simultaneously while they were filming.
And believe it or not, what I've discovered is that a lot of the changes they made between their original plans and what we see in the final product, have to do with not only Willel, but also Byler.
If you've read the original script for Montauk, you'll know that Mike's crush on Jennifer Hayes was focused on right from the jump, along with the birthmark on his face being focused on, which was the main cause of the bullying he experienced.
This has actually been talked about recently, and some of the claims people make do fit with what I am genuinely starting to consider here, which is that the initial plan for what makes Mike an outcast shifted.
I think when they completed casting, and started actually deep diving into what they wanted this world to look like, both from a short-term and long-term standpoint, they were presented with some pretty interesting discoveries, arguably already hiding in their initial plans without realizing it.
And this is where it sort of becomes a 'chicken or the egg' situation. Because which one came first? Byler or Willel?
I can't say for certain, because obviously this is all just speculation. But in the case that Willel came first, I think Byler would come very naturally after that.
The Duffers themselves are twins. Then they hire Noah, who is a twin. Then they're thinking and planning for El's past and how her family all fits into this, and they're thinking... wait a damn minute... We could totally Star Wars this bitch!
And then when they think it couldn't get any better, they uncover another layer that they hadn't planned or really considered in their initial plans.
While Will was always going to have sexual identity issues according to the Montauk bible, meaning that the writing process for him likely involved sitting down imagining scenarios that encapsulated this arc for Will from the beginning, they were simultaneously now finding very interesting aspects of Mike's character that made it hard not to at least consider the possiblity that Mike is not exactly straight.
Just think about it. The Byers and Wheelers are basically polar opposites on the spectrum of what a family looks like. While Will's discovery and acceptance of his queerness is interesting to explore because he comes from a low-income, single-mom household, all while having been bullied for years based on his perceived queerness, he also has a mother and brother constantly reinforcing that they will accept him no matter what. They've been sort of hitting us over the head with it for years, and so it wouldn't be very satisfying for his entire arc to merely lead up to something we've known all along. It's pretty much a given at this point.
On the other side of the spectrum, Mike comes from a more upper-middle class family at the end of a cul-de-sac, more aligned with what a nuclear family looks like. Mike's family is also presented as being more conservative, and while Karen does give that very queer-coded speech to Mike in s1 (I'm convinced they only wrote this after deciding to explore queer-coding more heavily with Mike), it also comes with comments from Ted and even still Karen that hint that they are probably not as open-minded and accepting as Will's family is to him. Which means Mike's arc would be a lot more about acceptance around him from his loved ones who we have been led to believe might not be as accepting of his queerness in contrast to Will.
And so as they're putting this story together, and they're being presented with something very interesting. Two similar experiences that play out in different ways because of the characters circumstances.
Will goes missing, and his twin sister with a buzzcut pops up and has the ability to help them find Will.
This leads to several moments where El is being compared to as not only a boy, but Will as well.
Now suddenly, their initial plans to have Mike's arc be about having a girl be interested in him and to hopefully have his first kiss and feel like less of a loser, starts to look a lot like what the experience a queer kid in his position might encounter growing up in the environment that he did.
And if you don't want to take my word for it, just hear the Duffer's themselves hinting at what they initially planned for Mike and the fact that it changed.
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The changes don't stop there.
Believe it or not, 'It was a seven', did not exist in the initial pitch. When the boys went outside bickering over Nancy, they leave right after that.
Another thing that changed from the first script, was Scott Clarke's introduction:
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And so you might be thinking, who cares? What does that have to do with anything?
Well, it's interesting because the line we end up with on the show is arguably one of the most on the nose Twelvegate proofs to date. Mind you, this is from the first episode:
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Why chuck the original version, which was arguably more interesting and fascinating in terms of it hinting at the mysteriousness surrounding this story, only to replace it with him listing off tips about their upcoming test?
Well, I think it's the irony of it all. Here Mr. Clarke is practically telling us where to look to figure stuff out for ourselves what is going on, with all the kids filing out and ignoring him...
I relate to Scott a litttle too much in this shot here, any time I try to drop Willel evidence.
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And the changes go on, as they obviously would.
Things like Terry Ives not even being El's mom, but actually a man who more so aligns with the characterization of Murray.
And one very interesting one I almost overlooked was in Hopper's introduction, where instead of a kids drawing done by who we assume to be Sarah, we actually see a picture on the wall of him and his wife and daughter... Interesting that they decided to switch it something that is a lot less definitive in presenting what Hopper's past looked like...
If you've made it this far, congratulations.
If you still think I'm out of my mind, just remember that El was going to have a brother in the original script, but they scrapped the scene and gave a near identical one to introduce her connection to Will instead 😘
#byler#stranger things#willel twins#twelvegate#montauk#as you can see#i am out of my mind#and i'm okay with that#i've spent the last couple months trying to make a video going over all the willel twin evidence#and i can't decide if it's even possible to do without going over an hour#like there is just so much shit that fits too perfectly into this family being ripped apart by mind control and time shenanigans#i hope to have it done soon#trying to make it less than 20 minutes#but it's probably going to end up being closer to an hour#especially with this stuff from the montauk pitch being added to the mix now#anyways#willel and byler are the curtain behind the curtain#if you are open to one of them#you are bound to stumble across the other#and they don't want that to happen#stay tuned for the inevitable twin imagery to continue in s5 related to willel leading up to the big reveal#bc it's arguably the most consistent thing about this damn show#and tbh this all just makes the queer-coding for mike in s1 a lot more concrete to me#them exploring will's queerness through his dad's expectations for him to do more 'manly' things like play baseball#and jonathan saying he shouldn't like things just bc people telll him he's supposed to#how they connect that narratively with the boys being at a baseball field when mike's being pressured about his supposed feelings for el#with the bullies showing up and literally being homophobic seconds later#the fact that jennifer hayes did in fact exist in the original pilot and was the girl mike had a crush on#only for them to scrap that and just make it about her having a crush on will...#never once introducing this idea of mike liking her...
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ali3nboyfriend · 4 months
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i'ma keep it real w y'all. most of the hazbin and helluva boss designs aren't actually that bad. and i think a lot of the ragging on them is just because y'all don't like the source material. and i also think a lot of the nitpicking on them is because in lieu of other shit to pick at tumblr users tend to double down on saying the aesthetics of something are bad and most of the people saying this shit haven't actually watched the shows 🤷‍♂️
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angelnumber27 · 2 months
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My life has improved a lot since being more consistent with responding to and talking to friends and saying yes to plans instead of letting anxiety make me say no. Maintaining good relationships and having a support system is so important. I isolated myself badly for over two years just out of fear and anxiety and depression and I was REALLY suicidal not that long ago. I recently decided that I deserve to actually live and have fun and be with my friends, not just isolate and rot in bed and it was literally a life-changing decision
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lord-squiggletits · 8 months
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I must admit I'm getting this horrible image in my head of Tarn as that type of creepy guy who donates way too much money to a streamer and then absolutely loses it when he hears they're not single.
That's probably accurate lol. Although unlike (seemingly) most people in this fandom, I blame Megatron more for turning Tarn into that kind of obsessed freak than I do Tarn for being a freak. I mean, my view is basically "you reap what you sow/the monster you created turned around and bit you" so I don't really have sympathy for Megatron with regards to Tarn showing up and ruining his life lol. I actually really like the DJD coming in MTMTE as basically the living embodiment of karma and Megatron's comeuppance about not being able to run away from/ignore his past.
Like blah blah "no matter how sad your backstory is you're still responsible for your own actions" but also Megatron is literally 100% the reason Tarn is Like That, and Megatron also used parasocial manipulation, propaganda, and his grandiose personality to manipulate the Decepticons into worshipping/following him without question. So like. It's fiction, I don't have to be all "well they're all problematic" I can just be like "lol, lmao even" and point and laugh as Megatron gets fucked up by Tarn and the DJD because he can't talk his way out of this problem.
#squiggle answers#i'm not mad at you or thinking you're saying anything#i'm just very fond of dying of the light and i enjoy megatron suffering#i love how dying of the light is like megatron's personal torment nexus of getting trapped by his bad decisions#but also getting other people dragged down with him by accident#and then he's so fucking pathetic that he can't even compromise his 'pacifism' to save those people he dragged down#and then he lashes out in anger and becomes violent and hateful again and slaughters the whole DJD#i love that shit. love when megatron is fucked up and dysfunctional#i'm not saying i wanted him to become WORSE and like die a horrible fate per se#i'm just saying that i disagree with most of the fandom when they're like aww let this old man rest and tarn should fuck off he's a loser#i'm like nah. put megatron in the blender. don't let him just suddenly decide to be a pacifist and then that's it. make him fuck up#ough sorry it's just. i like megatron getting better but i also like him staying bad lol#like i want him to get redeemed but i also still want him to be fucked up and full of anger and hatred. if that makes sense#but yeah. not to be a tarn defender or anything but like#sometimes the fandom seems like it listened too much to the part where megatron was like#'i was happy i was at peace and you ruined everything'#meanwhile i'm sitting there like: yeah they ruined it. and so what. it's your fault. you don't get to be peaceful and happy#when you still have mistakes that you need to address and do something about instead of running away#muah. muah. muah. love dying of the light#i wanted to rip megatron apart from being so pathetic but i was also like. awww sad old man#mostly i wanted to rip him apart tho lol
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