#i fucking hate this site... trying to get a read more tab thing to work is HELL OMG

[skishie]

omga i love your airphone gijinkas

anyways i uave no idea if youve already said this somewhere ,my memory sucks ,but how do you reckon airy and mephone met. what is ur perosnal headcanon. grabby hands i must know (i love airphon

UUWAAAA THANK YOU !!! im really glad you do... looks up at you so politely and with a big smile.. i want to draw them again but better and more like a ref so hopefully soon! :D aaaatehee heeee i have not spoken about it publicly so im more than open to go into it now... cracks my knuckles(its actually not that intense but i jsut have a lot of thoughts)

OKAY, so personally i like to think about it starting after airy dies the second time(the end of ONE). its nice for him to still have gone through everything hes done and experienced because its what makes him him. he needs to be the airy we know and love. this also allows for bonding and growth and other such things. anyways, he uses the radio and ends up in the world of inanimate insanity! this would also take place after season 3 has wrapped up, either before or after the library is built. this means he can meet mephone and they can start bonding over being hosts of game shows but as airy talks mephone starts to understand "wow he just like me, but i got better, and now i want to help him" so mephone feels this need to help airy out with the same growth that mephone jsut went through. but also anyone whos been through the isolation that airy has been through along with dying who knows how many times. mephone just wants to help him and help his mental state and get him resocialized and to a point where he understands why he should be a bit more thoughtful or so on and whatever. airy would still be his old self but a bit more caring/understanding to a degree. i think hes just got some mental problems going on and hes just kind of an odd guy. mephone lets him hang around and either they could MAYBE? co host together, but at first hes just watching mephone do a show first before anything like that. which he watches from afar. hes not so used to being upclose or even being around people anymore so he likes to watch from a distance. as time goes on yada yada mephone would develop feelings first, and airy would much later. mephone would develop feelings while helping airy and such, airy takes a lot longer because he is readjusting and just, getting some basic social skills back. i like them in part because i just see mephone having gone through the growth he went through because he was similar to airy, and then meeting airy after this and realizing "wow i should help him too because this is just how i was and id hate to see someone else suffer the way i did" kind of thing and blah blah idk sorry i yapped and i hope any of this makes sense/is readable period. i ramble a lot and my thoughts kind of get lost oops. im not great with words or wording things well. not everything is thought out but those are my thoughts :] ps: airy still has the cracked head because thats just how i personally like to see him and draw him. i also think that if he died and came back that after all hes done, thats more akin to who he is now. hes a broken individual who needs help/fixing. if that makes sense(also a bit of self projecting) pps: my boyfriend wanted to add his two cents for what he knows of mephone as well(hes not finished season 3 yet) and yknow,,, hes right i think its a mix of what i said and mix of what he said... which is: "wow he just like me for real, not anymore though, also this guy's committed some major fucked up stuff and that's just not right, if i fix this guy maybe it'll look really good for me"

#airphone #ask #emmkittycat #sorry i went off omg ive just had most things pent up inside of me #ive talked somewhat in private to friends but no ones as crazy as i am yet #please feel free to ask me more things or send requests for them or literally anything #dm/pm me idk im hungry for more content and talking about them in general i need the juices i NEED AIRPHONE #ii mephone4 #hjfone airy #i fucking hate this site... trying to get a read more tab thing to work is HELL OMG

[wilchur]

I don’t even go here but your replies to deepdragons were so needlessly hostile.

“If you found it so disrespectful then why didn’t you block me?” This is childish and hypocritical. If you found their take so bad, why did you go out of your way to go to their blog, find the post, and then argue with them? Why didn’t YOU block them first so you wouldn’t have to see their takes? Why do people need to block you, to actively prevent you from interacting with them entirely, for you to not be rude to them?

People will have shitty takes and you will not agree with every post you see — that’s the nature of fandom. You can’t control how other people post or think and that’s annoying, I get it, but YOU can control how you interact with others. The way you were speaking to that person was so needlessly rude and hostile. Is that how you speak to people in real life? I’m so curious as to what your goal was in talking to them like that. Surely it wasn’t to convince any one of anything. Who would want to agree with someone being so dickish and annoying about something as inconsequential as the politics of elven aging? So, what was all of that for? Did that make you happy or have you just riled yourself up? Do you feel like you accomplished something by speaking to someone like that?

I really hate when people tear others apart for being wrong about fandom things. If you were wrong about something, do you think you would appreciate someone talking to you in the way you spoke to deepdragons? Or would you rather they approach you with respect and understanding? Golden rule and all that, yeah?

You did not have to seek them out and you did not have to engage with them. Next time, either speak to others with respect or just make your own goddamn post. Not everything needs to be a debate.

I also find it funny how you were coming at them for not being faithful for the lore or whatever and then, when someone with more textual evidence than you rebutted your statements and called for you to back up your claims, you were like “I can’t be expected to cite all of my claims like an academic paper!!” Fucking lol. The onus of proof lies only with the people you disagree with, huh?

Have you seen the original post? I'm guessing not because then you'd know that my reply pretty much mirrored the exact condescending tone used by the OP. I also didn't "go out of my way" to do anything. I've said so before and I'll repeat it again: I got an error while reblogging the OG post, went to check the person's blog for what's up with that and the first thing I saw was them calling people stupid for pointing out that They're Not Correct. I already had the post written at that point and I simply copied it from one tab to another. This is the internet, you post something publicly people can and will interact with it unless you stop them. I didn't block the OP because at the time I did not give a shit if they interacted with me or not, I was just setting straight misinfo I see regurgitated over and over again to the point I'm sick of it. Because of the attitude they displayed I was actually fully expecting to get blocked straight away myself.

I'm not actually a dick unless someone annoys me into it. Because sometimes people get annoyed and they're rude, that's just how people work. But I guess you know that? Since you're annoyed at me and wrote a whole essay trying to make me feel bad?

And just to finish this off.. none of my statements were rebutted. I got lore dumped on and half of it wasn't even interpreted correctly from the linked books. Yes, I don't need to cite like it's an academic paper because all the goddamn info needed was already in my first post. Astarion was not a child because he was a grown ass man with a government job. There's no basis for "Ascended Vampires can't love" because Larian homebrews their vampires so the written lore doesn't apply. That's literally it. People on this site just can't fucking read.

#ask #anon

[oddmerit]

i dont wanna drop off the face of social media forever but boy wouldnt it be nice to have the sort of brain that DIDNT feel the need to compulsively scroll every 30 minutes when im trying to sit down and get work done and i could simply pick and choose to sparingly use those sites so i have time for literally anything else in my life

i grew up on algorithm-less tumblr and deeply abhor instagram and tiktok (i dont even have tiktok and instagram is so overstimulating i cant use it for more than 5 minutes) so its not the algorithm of these sites that drag me in, it's the desire to keep tabs on people i have never even followed but are adjacent to a lot of the people i DO follow by going directly to their pages and reading all of THEIR tweets and [redacted for legitimately weird things i do with that information].

plus my brain is a tiny fucking toddler that hates being told what to do mixed with a particularly sneaky 13-year-old that loves to circumvent all of the barriers i put up to try and make myself focus on the task at hand. i literally redownloaded chrome and logged into tumblr just so i could make this post because my forest app extension on firefox, my phone, and my ipad block me from accessing tumblr while they're going. i have three siteblockers going simultaneously and my brain was so compelled to Scroll and Post i went around all of them. i remember one time when i was younger i had a siteblocker on tumblr.com going so i could do some homework, but i could still go directly to people's blogs because the subdomain of [username].tumblr.com wasnt blocked. i paginated through at least 100 pages of some random person's blog because my brain was holding me captive and didnt want to do homework

i dont even know what to do at this point. deleting my social media entirely is out of the question bc i have a decade+ of art, memories, etc that i want to hold onto, and its also the main way i interact with people bc socializing normally feels like pulling teeth

anyways. any tips people have on redirecting your brain to things you Need To Work On or even Want To Work On like hobbies or art whenever your brain is screaming that it wants the baby bottle of social media would be very appreciated

#unidentified gay noise #long post SORRY #im trying to do a twitter/tumblr detox bc those are my two worst executive-dysfunction-paralysis-scrolling sites #as you can tell its going: badly #i considered getting a page on cohost.org but again: its not the algorithm thats the problem. its the fact that there is Content To Scroll #adding a Fourth Site (metaphorically not literally thats just what cohost calls itself) would probably make the issue much worse #even neocities is an issue bc it has the feed and i cant block the neocities backend itself bc thats how you Update Your Fucking website #its a scumbag tactic to make people sign up to sites but in the sense of ''forcing me to Stop Scrolling'' its very helpful when sites are-- #--like ''log in to view this person's profile :)'' whenever i log out out twitter or tumblr #''raleigh have you considered you might have adhd and/or ocd and/or autism'' have you considered sucking me good and hard from behind

[ambrosialdesire]

rules

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

general rules :

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! This is a dark content/yandere blog, do not interact with me or my content at all. I check my activity tab a lot so if I do not see an age in the bio, any request of yours will be ignored and you will be blocked. If you bother me about the things I write, I will promptly block you. If you have a blank blog, I will be keeping an eye out for any suspicious behavior. You have been warned and content warnings/tags will always be put in place before the start of fics.

If you do not like or want to see my content, blocking is free. Don’t try sending me hate asks, you will be ignored and blocked.

I will not be answering any discourse or hate posts/messages/asks. If you are actively searching for particular content and then complaining about said content that YOU sought out for and ignoring every warning that is given to you beforehand, that is completely out of my hands and on you. My responsibility as a dark content writer is to warn readers beforehand with ALL tags and warnings; if they are comfortable with reading such content, it is their sole responsibility of having the decision of continuing to go on and read my content. I get curiosity but please do not go on with reading if you are uncomfortable with any of topics written. Don’t fuck up your mind this early if you’re a minor. Viewer/reader discretion is advised.

All characters that I write will be 18+ and will always be portrayed as adults.

Please ask me if you could recommend or repost my fics to other people in other sites (like tiktok). On most occasions, my content is not for others and I don’t want these things being exposed to a younger audience. Please respect this request of mine.

Do not repost any of my works on other sites, the only site I will be posting is on Tumblr and that's it. I might make an AO3 account but it depends on how much I actually want to make one.

I will tag everything correctly and if I don't add a particular tag, please tell me! Content warnings will also be tagged before the fic starts so please tread with caution!

Will only be writing for what's on my masterlist, new things would be added in if I'm able to vibe with the show + fandom long term.

I take a long time to write so please don't complain or beg me to post as fast as possible; I try to take my time to make sure the request or fic is good enough to read and sometimes I have writing slumps.

Sometimes I won't take on your request, mostly because I can't think of how to go about writing it or I ain't vibing with the prompt. Please don't constantly spam the inbox if I don't take it.

Please respect me in my inbox and through asks. If I begin to accumulate a bunch of hate, anon messages will no longer be available. Respect each other in the comments of each post as well!

No one and I mean no one has my permission to use my works (both fics and answered asks based on those fics) for AI and chat bots. Please refer to this answered ask linked right here.

More general rules will be added if needed

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

request rules :

I write mostly fem or female genitalia reader, so if you request something that is not fem reader, please specify so I know!

I will not accept any physical characteristics for the reader, I like having an “open” reader so anyone can imagine themselves in the character. I try my best to keep the reader interesting personality-wise but still a blank canvas at the same time.

Make sure that before you send in your request, to see if my requests are open, its availability is on my pinned navigation post.

I may or may not write sequels, depends on my mood about the fic and how much I want to continue it.

I do appreciate every request that I get, don’t get discouraged if I do not take your request! You can still send requests no matter what :)

Please respect what I will write and not write below:

I WILL NOT write: anything with piss and fecal matter, necrophilia (like anything with actual dead bodies, zombies are an iffy subject), underage + ageplay, incest (biological), beastiality (like actual animals that aren’t able to communicate or understand human language), FEET (i will block you immediately /hj), will add on if needed

I WILL write: yandere, breeding, dubcon + noncon, overstim, threesomes/groupies (depending on which characters and how many people are involved), monsterfucking, praise + degradation, dom and sub dynamics (like daddy or master), cheating, pseudo-incest, hatefucking, size difference, legal age differences (like 20 year old with a 30-40 year old), somnophilia, manipulation, will add on if needed. Most kinks and topics are acceptable but remember, I can refuse your request.

More request rules will be added if needed

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#ambrosial rules #rules #yandere

[purplesurveys]

1563

Have you ever had a computer virus before? Yeah my first laptop (technically a hand-me-down from my dad) was a massive breeding ground for viruses. The worst one was a virus where it would randomly type out chunks upon chunks of Vietnamese text. I also knew when a virus had already started hanging out every time my Google homepage would change to a random ass search site.

Are you dependent upon anyone? Yeah, my parents, technically. In the Philippines if you’re 24 like me and live on your own, your parents are either millionaires and pay for your shit or are dead. Salary is shit here and doesn’t do nearly enough to sustain you.

Are there any book characters you'd like to portray? Nope.

Who did you last text? It was my mom telling her we had already arrived at her workplace and are ready to pick her up anytime.

Is there anything on your bed right now? Just me, this laptop, and my laptop charger.

When was the last time you went to the grocery store? I went around two Fridays ago to pick up paper cups and a bunch of chips in preparation for the Busan concert.

What way would you like to die when it's your time? Just in my sleep and painlessly, please. Does anybody actually prefer to die while in excruciating pain?

What are you most afraid of in the world? People with bad intentions. And I certainly don’t mean that in a simple “there will always be people who’ll betray you” kind of way. We’re talking catcallers, gropers, harassers, molesters, kidnappers, murderers.

Have you ever been caving? Nah. I had the chance once but I wore the worst possible pair of footwear I could put on that day, which was flip-flops.

Do you do well in math related things? Depends on the topic. I’m quite strong in some areas, like statistics and algebra – but equally as awful in others, like trigonometry.

What is your favorite fruit? Avocado, if I absolutely had to pick.

If you had to choose, which sibling would you live with? My sister.

Do you have any tattoos? Nopes.

Are you planning on getting any in the near future? Maybe when Jin gets sent off to enlistment. The urge to get inked definitely felt more nagging after the announcement.

When was your last date? Around two years ago, maybe three. I’m not sure when that ex and I last went out.

When did you get Facebook? It was in 2012, when I was 14.

Are any of your family members in jail? Used to. I think she was allowed to leave not too long ago. Idk though for sure - I never keep tabs on that side of the family.

What was your first pet's name? Apart from our goldfish, we had Tobi the bunny. Are you good when it comes to computer issues? Not at all, I’d rather take my laptop to a repair shop once it gets wonky.

Are there any people at your job who absolutely hates you? I don’t think so. I do my job quite well and I don’t think I’ve ever done anything to piss the crap out of anyone.

What was the last book you read? I don’t read anymore.

Have you ever read any books in one day? Sure!

What was the last thing you bought? Dinner for my family. We got Ippudo last night.

What are your plans for tomorrow? Work, then I’ll have to bring Cooper and Agi to the nearby dog hotel since we’ll be staying overnight at a hotel during the weekend to celebrate my sister’s college graduation. I have a longgg weekend ahead so I imagine I’ll also be drinking a fuck ton of coffee tomorrow night to make the most of the time.

Is there any jewelry you wear constantly? Nopes.

Are your fingernails painted at the moment? They are not.

Do you prefer cool, warm or neutral colors? I lean towards warm and neutral these days and have been trying to populate my wardrobe with more browns, olives, off-whites, etc. Have you ever taken art classes? Yep – back in college I took an art studies class.

What's the most boring movie you've ever seen? The Revenant. I don’t think I lasted any more than five minutes of it. Do you know how to work a cash register? I’ve never actually tried, but I probably wouldn’t be able to use it smoothly on the first try.

Fact or fiction novels? If you meant non-fiction, I’d go with that.

Have you ever suffered from depression? Yes.

Do you think you're a clingy person? Not anymore, really. If there’s anything my previous relationship taught me, it’s that clingy is bad. I like being independent these days.

Have you ever been in a physical fight before? I’ve been in physical brushes, but not full-on fights. I’m sad to say it’s been with my mom a few times; who wants to get physical with their own mother, ever?

How often would you say you disagree with your parents? Not very often anymore because I’ve since learned to just shut up if ever I disagree with them on something. The three of us are quite hard-headed and pretty firm with our beliefs and convictions, so pushing each other’s arguments never helped us.

What color shirt did you wear yesterday? Orange and white.

Do you have a job? Yup.

If so, do you like it? The thing I like to tell people is that as much as I whine about my job these days, I actually like and enjoy the nature of it. It’s the workload in my workplace that I absolutely despise. If the structure was just organized such that I don’t need to work 12-15 hours every night, I’d actually like it a bit more.

Have you ever been called a slut before? Nah, I haven’t really done anything to be referred as one, even jokingly.

What's something you've been craving? I feel like I’m always craving/in the mood for sushi.

Have you ever slept with your window open? Yeah, when I used to be in school because I was shy about eating up the electricity bill. Now that I earn my own money I have the aircon on every night and haven’t had the windows open in months, like I’ve always wanted haha.

Can you play violin? Nopes. It’s the second instrument I wish I knew how to play, just next to piano. What was the last desert you had? Pain au chocolat MY FAVORITE

Have you ever had a wild animal as a pet? Nopes.

Do you know anyone you talk to on Facebook but won't talk to in person? Well yeah, lots of people. There are many on my friend list that I only know vaguely, so while I could say hi to them I wouldn’t actually approach them for a full conversation or anything like that.

What color are your mother's eyes? Dark brown.

Do you have a best friend? Yep.

If so, how long have you been best friends? 17 years for Angela and around 3 years for Andi.

Do you cry easily? Yeah, I guess you can say that. I can cry very quickly over ads and just this afternoon I bawled like three times watching Jin’s The Astronaut.

Have you ever been into a court room? Does a session hall count? I’ve never been in those smaller court rooms that I see in movies and shows but I once got to visit the session hall of the House of Representatives for a journ class. I remember during the time of our visit the topic of discussion was on the legalization of marijuana, hahaha. Other countries might find it super mundane but considering where I’m from that was a pretty mind fucking blowing session to get to be a part of.

How many necklaces would you say you own? Zero. Am not too big on jewelry.

Do you plan on being strict towards your children? Not so much, but then again it would also have to depend on how well they can look after themselves.

Do you own any tie-dye shirts? No, not a big fan of the look.

What would you say is your favorite day of the week? Saturday.

Do you ever wear lipstick? Never. It doesn’t suit me.

Do you own a pool? Nope.

Do you have a Tumblr account? I think so. What website are we on again?

Would you say you're overweight? Nah, I’ve always been on the skinny/slim side.

How many colors are in your hair? Right now just one, since I had my hair dyed purple last weekend. It’ll be at least a week or so before my roots grow out again.

Do you flirt with a lot of people? I don’t flirt, never been my style.

Have you ever been falsely accused of starting drama? Yeah, surprisingly so. It was honestly hilarious to found out I was being pinned as someone who’d start shit when I’d realistically be the first person to dodge the first sign of drama; but at the same time I was also just very pissed at that person for dragging my name and made it a point to never talk to them again.

How old are you? 24.

Do you attend church regularly? Unfortunately yes.

Have you ever found a song that describes your whole life? Not my whole life, but I have found solace in a few songs that I resonated with at certain points in my life. 

What time did you wake up this morning? It was around exactly 8, I think. Then I spent the next hour napping on and off until I had to get up for real by 9 to start work.

What time do you plan on waking up tomorrow morning? Pretty early actually, around 6. My sister’s college graduation is tomorrow and she has to be at her venue by 7:30; and since it’s all the way in Manila we have to start driving out super early. What kind of car do you drive? I have a Mitsubishi Mirage.

What kind of car would you like to have? I’d love a Mini.

Have you ever been to Dairy Queen? Sure! I never actually get their Blizzards, though; I’ve always been more of an Oreo frappe fan.

If so, what's your favorite thing to eat from there? ^ Oh, I was one step ahead of you haha.

How old did you turn on your last birthday? I turned 24.

Ever felt like falling apart? Yes.

Have you ever been in an ambulance? Haven’t been.

Do you tend to worry a lot? Yeah but most of my worries and anxieties these days are work-related, which I’d count as a good thing. Otherwise there aren’t many things I’m consistently concerned about in my personal life.

How old were you when you lost your first tooth? I was 6 and it was in the middle of class, haha. Very memorable experience.

Do you remember your first time on the internet? I do, actually. I had just come home from school and my dad surprised me with an internet connection, and I remember the first website I wanted to see in real life being YouTube.

Which website do you email from? Gmail.

[a-i-ngels]

What they do when they do when they find out you are going to date again after you two break up (series multiple) Yan themes for gojo, geto, nanami, mahito, sakuna, choso, toji. Ima be reblogging with the next character part as it would take FOREVER to do it in one go. and no I didnt proof read it either.

Gojo

It had been two months since the initial break up. You found that all he thought of was himself and his constant questioning if you were even worthy of doing what you were doing compared to him. So in the heat of an argument where he belittled you and told you that you weren't close to his level while he kept his cocky nature you decided you didn't need his words of discouragement and left while he kept his head high saying to you that you'll never find someone better than him.

He expected you to come crawling back but it never came. You got yourself settled, got a small apartment and worked to get to where you are now,with out him to say the least too. You were doing good all by yourself and he HATED it. Unbeknownst to you he kept tabs on you, in the shadows as he watched everything you did, from where you worked to your routines. He stayed dormant on it until he found out you were going on a date, a man who he did see you interact a couple times with had asked you out and you agreed. The mere audacity of you saying yes sent him over the edge, he kept calling you but all you'd do was say no to his advantaged of coming to see you and that only made him even more desperate as the day neared.

You on the other hand were excited, finally! After two months something good! In all honesty you were glad to go on this date because that meant meeting someone new and forgetting what Gojo put you through! You were so excited while getting ready you failed to notice to door to your bathroom being opened and locked as you took your shower to prepare for your date. Once you finished and reached for your towel and stepped out you screamed at the tall man in front of you.

"What the FUCK are you doing here Gojo!?!" You Said covering yourself with the towel as he stayed there silent leaning on the door. "Well I heard about your date and I just wanted to see you." He said nonchalant, a large smile on his face at the site of you. You glared at him before telling him to get out which just earned a laugh as he quickly grabbed you by the wrist and slammed you on the sink counter too fast for you to register.

Your squirming not causing him to Faulter as he kept your hands behind your back in an iron grip. "You know darling. I don't like being ignored and the fact that you thought we were over really makes me want to laugh." He said pressing against your ass, you froze at the feeling of his erection on you as he grinded. Your expression turning from anger to worry as he kept grinding against your form, a towel the only thing covering you. "Gojo please don't, I'm finished with you, you can't." You pleaded hoping he'd stop. Instead he ripped the towel from your body and began slapping you raw, making you tear up from the pain. Muddled gasped and groans trying to escape your throat as you kept your mouth shut at the sensation. "Oh sweetheart, look at you, you really think I'm gonna let you go?" He cooed as he took two fingers and began gliding them between your folds, the moisture from your shower aiding him in slipping them in you. You remained tense as he continued, only relaxing when he hit that sweet spot, an un voluntary moan slipping from you as he continued. Chuckling at your actions "Now my sweet y/n do you think he'd know you like this?, please you like this?" He said as he slipped his digits in and out of you in a delicious pace before entering a third finger as his grip on your tugging wrists stayed strong. The stretch making you shake as he continued before pulling out and slapping your ass some more and re entering all three fingers in you, causing you to moan out again at the feeling. He then took out his fingers again to unbuckle his pants and free his dick from his pants and he rubbed his length with your slick from his fingers as he prepared to align himself at your entrance. The small window allowing you to look in the mirror of your sink to see him before you said "no please don't!" As he sheathed himself in you. This earning a yelp form you and a satisfying gasp from him as he was finally where he wanted to be. He stayed there unmoving in your heat for a moment as you began to squirm and with that he leaned down on you and began moving at an unrelenting pace. This causing you to close your eyes and take what he was doing, eventually adjusting until him going in and out of your heat felt nothing but electric on your body. You began to whimper and that all but caused gojo to smile harder as he Continued to pound into you. "Oh damn sweetheart, that feels good!" He said, "FUCK shoulda done this sooner yeah? Look at that. Taking my dick so good like you always had. Bet he will never get you to feel like this." All the words going to your core as your release began to build up. Until he began to slow down, pumping into you in hard but slow thrusts, just enjoying you tightening around him as he continued. The slaps of his balls to your ass th only sound present until you finally spoke for the first time since he started. "Go-Gojo mhm, Oh! Gojo please! N-need to c-come!" You whimpered at his pace, him kissing the side of your head as he spoke back to you.

"What's that slut? Need to come? Well since you asked nicely I'll allow it this time but its only because you've been so good taking my cock like the bitch you are." And with that he used his hand to toy with your neglected clit and began to thrust harder as he began to pick up the pace of his thrusts again. The feeling all too good as he increased, all too good for you to handle as you finally went over the edge. Clenching tightly around him and sending him over as well. Your entire body going slack as you felt him continuing to stroke you slowly still. You were so into your orgasm you failed to hear your phone buzzing as your date called to see when you were coming. Gojo picking it up and answering it only to tell your date that she was coming on his dick instead before hanging up and contunuing to slip in and out of you still. Straightening his torso again and Smiling at his victory. "I'm never letting you go anymore, you are only mine and I'll make sure it stays that way." He said as your tired body did nothing but lay there, legs slightly trembling at the sensation you just experienced.

You were his and tomorrow he'll explain more about what he means but for tonight. He'll just show you. His wonderful darling, oh how you'll never want anyone but him after this.

#yandere jjk

[coldtacosaladwasntfound]

Heyyy dude (gender neutral) how are you? I love your work!! I was wondering whether you could do a fluff poly pic with dream x reader x George where the reader gets hated on and the boys are protective of them. Original, I know 🙄✋/lh drink water ❤

hello ! here you go bud :)) kinda sucks but oh well

pronouns : they / them

H A T E • dream x georgenotfound x reader fluff

Twitter. Something about the godforsaken app could put a grimace on anyone's face. Twitter stans aren't all bad, but obviously controversial comments will end up being the most interacted with content on the site, just causing more and more people to see it. Was I surprised when I realized I was under attack; specifically by accounts dedicated to my partners and their friends? Not really, but it definitely still hurt. I expected it eventually but not this soon. I had barely appeared on stream w the guys, only coming in and out of Dream's room.

I was laying on the couch in Dream's room, scrolling through the replies to a post asking people what they thought of me. Dream was unknowingly sitting at his desk, editing with his headphones on. I truly didn't think the comments would be that bad, and some of them weren't, but some were.

@/user

idek anything ab them but they give me a bad vibe fr /gen

----@/user2

---- no like actually same, like the way they talk to dream is just,,, idk how to explain it

@/user3

literally not our place to assume things ab them ???? we know NOTHING ab them

----@/user4

---- ^^^ reminder

@/user5

they interact w [creator] 🚩🚩🚩🚩

I heard Dream talk, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Yeah, they're right here. [Y/n], George wants to say 'hi'!"

"Okay." I sat up and walked over to the computer, him unplugging the headphones. "Hi, George," I said, a slightly forced grin on my face.

"Hey, how are you?" I could tell that was more of a genuinely concerned kind of 'how are you' rather than a casual one. He could tell I wasn't alright.

"Uh..." I looked at Dream, he also seemed a bit concerned. There was no use in lying to them. "I was reading through a Twitter thread that I probably should've just ignored. It brought me down a bit."

Dream hugged me from behind in his seat. "We saw it. Do you wanna talk about it?" He asked.

I nodded. "It's not quite what they said that bothers me, but the fact that they don't even know me and there's nothing I can do to change their opinion."

"Their opinion doesn't matter. Like you said, they don't know you," George said into his mic. "We know you, and we love you." Dream nodded in agreement.

"I love you guys, too."

-

I woke up the next morning, cute memories of Dream and I's cuddle session last night. I was in Dream's bed and the blonde boy himself was once again sat his desk, talking quietly on call with someone. "Your chat needs to chill," Dream muttered through a clenched jaw. I got up and walked up behind him, looking over his shoulder while I wait for him to notice me. I glance at chat, trying to find what they need to chill about.

Oh.

He jumped, scrambling to mute himself and close the Twitch tab. "Good morning, angel," He said as he looked up at me.

I didn't know what to say. Of course, even Sapnap's chat was talking about me. I just let the emotions come through, standing there and feeling the insecurity hit.

I assumed Sapnap had noticed Dream's disappearance and tried to get his attention, as I watched Dream quickly unmute and begin talking. "Hey, I'm here, sorry, my mic fucked up." His eyes went back to the stream to see the chat, the discourse still raging. "Chat, please shut up about the people I hang out with in real life." I could tell he wanted it to be as vague as possible. "They're real people and can see the things you say." He paused and looked up at me. "I'm gonna hop off now." He left the call and took off his headphones, pulling me towards him. "You're worth so much to me, I don't like when people talk about you like that."

I sat in his lap and felt my phone buzz, pulling it out of my pocket and seeing George's name on my screen for a video call. I answered it and aimed the camera at Dream and I. "Hi, George... join the cuddle sesh," I offered jokingly.

"Gladly," he chuckled, his smile stunning me. "There's nowhere I'd rather be." Dream gave me a kiss on the cheek, nodding.

I received a Twitter notification for George's account. I opened it, scanning over the text.

@/GeorgeNotFound

Stop tweeting about creators personal friends challenge 2021 99% fail

I chuckled, piquing George's curiosity. "What are you laughing at?" I went back to the video call.

"Your tweet," I replied. Dream chuckled as he looked at it himself. "Thanks, a lot."

"For what? It's our job to stick up for you, we care about you," He insisted. George hummed an 'mhm' in approval.

"Still, thanks. Also, can we watch a movie together tonight?" Dream chuckled and nodded.

"Of course, you can pick the movie," George offered, exciting me further.

"Including Disney Channel Original Movies?" I asked as Dream groaned in a mixture of disgust and annoyance at the thought of watching a Disney Channel movie.

"Yes, including them," George responded before Dream could.

I laughed as the freckled boy before me let out his complaints, "They're all so predictable, the writing's shit."

"Shut up, Dream," George interjected in defense. "It's just one movie."

After all agreeing, the three of us sat on call watching a movie of my choice.

#dream x reader x georgenotfound #dream #x reader #georgenotfound #mcyt #fluff #fanfic #imagine #oneshot #mcyt x reader #poly #dream team

[light-yaers]

No Saints: Chapter Six

This content is explicit and is 18+

Warnings: Graphic sexual content, violence, implied effects of PTSD, death and explicit language.

Read on Ao3 here | Fic Masterpost

Word Count - 6.1k

Chapter Six

It was approaching a week later, when someone unexpected entered the shop. You stopped polishing a blaster, looking up at him and trying to keep your cool.

“Karga,” You said plainly. You forced on a small smile. “What brings you here?”

Karga strode around your shop curiously, taking in the décor, the storage boxes, and you. He still made your skin crawl whenever you thought back to saving Mando’s skin. Stars, it meant he thought of you in that way—vulnerable, tearful, a pitiful little girl, cowering in fear next to the Mandalorian.

“Miss, good day to you,” He said in greeting. “I... bring conversation,”

Conversation. That was just another way of saying he was about to threaten you.

But about what? You didn’t know.

“Now, I’m sure you know that Nevarro is small. Operations here are left to a select few, and members of the Guild are trusted,”

“Of course. The Guild code remains law,” You agreed, unsure of where he was going with this. You tried to stand your ground, while also adopting that same character you’d played in the bar. You couldn’t immediately change your personality; it would simply hint at how it had been a plan.

“Yes, indeed,” He approached your work desk, raising his hands to his hips. “Which is why, I make it my job to make sure no one steps out of line,”

Out of line... what did he know?

“A noble position, Karga,” You said, rising yourself up to meet him face to face, as much as it made you nauseous.

“And one I take seriously,” He sent you a knowing look. You kept your stare as plain as possible, trying to convey that you had done nothing wrong, nothing to betray him or the Guild. You weren’t even a Guild member, but respecting their rules is what kept you safe on this planet; it was suicide to go against the hunters here.

Karga moved his hand to his blaster slowly. You could see it in your peripheral, sensing a rising anxiety and adrenaline coursing through your gut. If he wanted a fight, you’d win. But if you won?

You’d have to leave. You’d be a wanted woman, once again.

“There’s been word that the Mandalorian comes in here often,” Oh, stars. You stopped yourself from swallowing down your nerves, dropping your face into something resembling fear as quick as you could.

“Yes, he does,” You said honestly. There was no use in lying if he’d got a tip. “That man—so many damaged weapons, all covered in blood and dirt,” You looked at your hands, as if in thought of how disgusting it was. “I’m thankful for his business in these trying times, but stars, he scares me half to death,”

If Mando were here, he would have scoffed. What a blatant lie, from a woman who had kissed his lips five days prior. His actual lips.

“It’s taken the Guild time to trust in him again,” Karga replied, taking his hand away from his blaster. It worked—stars, it fucking worked. He believed every word your lying mouth said. “He had a lapse of judgement a while back, but without him, quarries simply wouldn’t get collected as quickly or efficiently,”

You nodded severely, coating your gaze with a subtle sadness and trying desperately not to break. You hated acting like this—weak, spineless, like you didn’t know the ways of the Guild or hunters or killers, but sometimes it was the only thing that kept you safe.

“So, I was wondering, since times are tough,” Karga continued, moving his hand to his pocket slyly. “If you and I could strike a deal?”

He laid out five hundred credits on the work desk, letting you look at them, before looking back up to him. Fuck. Not another deal.

“Information on the Mandalorian, in exchange for Guild gratitude, and some credits to make these times easier to manage,” This was a fucking sham. You knew Guild contacts weren’t allowed to keep tabs on their members like this; it was heavily frowned upon and betrayed the initial trust.

But Karga had always been a snake. He was worse than the hunters, in some aspect. He expected honesty, respect, decorum; yet he often didn’t return the favour. He’d underpay his hunters, shoot them on site for being late without hearing their story, and evidently, spy on them behind their backs.

Oh, you would certainly be telling Mando about this.

“Karga, that’s so kind of you,” You began, shooting him a graceful smile and trying not to imagine what your fist round his jaw would look like. “But I’m afraid I have nothing to give. The Mandalorian doesn’t say two words to me when he comes in. He hands me a weapon, pays me, and waits in silence while I repair it,” Lies. All lies. He did more than sit there, and he certainly didn’t stay silent.

Stars, not now.

“Well—why don’t you try—,”

“Talking to him?” You interrupted. “Tried it, he never replies. It’s like I’m just talking to myself, most of the time. Stars, he’s a scary man,”

Karga’s face dropped into a frown.

“I’m grateful for the proposition, Karga,” You said, before silently pushing his credits back towards him on the desk. “But I think it would simply be a waste of your credits,”

Karga regraded you slyly, squinting slightly at the innocent expression you were plastering all over your face. “Well,” He sighed, taking back his credits. “That you for the honesty, Miss,” He nodded at you and you nodded back. “Good day to you,”

You held your breath as he walked out of the shop, not moving until you were sure he was around the corner of the street outside. And then you exhaled heavily, clutching your heart as the waves of anxiety and adrenaline finally caused you grief. That snake; that fucking snake.

You had no way of contacting Mando before he arrived back, so you’d simply have to hope that your lies would hold up during his next visit. If Karga was wary about this enough to ask you to strike a deal with him, then this wouldn’t go away quickly—

He was after something; something to incriminate Mando in the Guild.

You kept your communicator charged and strapped to your wrist at all times, just waiting for his modulated drawl to come through over the next few days. The man was on your mind at all times; while you worked, when you ate, shot, showered and before you went to sleep. His kiss had seeped into your very being, often reappearing in your mind randomly and making you jump. Your fingers brushed your lips whenever you thought of him. Soft, prickling pecks littered your entire body in anticipation of when he’d kiss you all over—

Your skin, your chest, your collarbones and between your thighs. Stars, you’d give up every part of yourself for him—not that you’d ever admit that to the bastard; it would only serve to fuel his ego and his over-the-top confidence when he finally broke you down, made you blush, made you whimper.

A week after waking in his ship, you turned your light out and crawled into bed. He was due back tomorrow and as much as you craved his touch and his voice, you were afraid of what Karga was plotting. You’d have to tell him immediately, to at least try and halt something from happening to him without his prior knowledge.

Eventually, you fell into a deep sleep, dreaming of sweet things. Blurs of greys and browns met you behind your eyelids, mimicking the subtle reflections of the moonlight off of Mando’s Beskar helmet. In your dream, he stood over you in your room, visor peering down at your sleeping body as he quietly began taking off portions of his armour and laying them on the floor in a neat pile.

He started with his shoulder pads, moving to his chest plate and pulling it from his front and back. His leg plates came off the easiest, with subtle tugs one by one until he wore only his under clothes and helmet. It was dark, but you smiled up at where you sensed his body to be, mumbling greetings at him before he moved round to other side of the bed.

Only when he slipped off his shoes and lifted the covers, did you realise you weren’t fucking dreaming—

Stars, you were awake, barely, and Mando was slipping into bed next to you. He’d picked the lock on the door, slotted off his Beskar and crawled in right next to you, all under the cover of Nevarro darkness and with no hesitation at all.

He rested his head on the pillow next to your own, softly wrapping his arms around you as you fought against the deep sleep weighing you down. You were incoherent, utterly confused but also blisteringly hot at what was going on. Inside, a voice screamed at you to wake up, to focus on what was happening, to tell him about Karga; but the other was simply letting out pleased moans and mumbles, hooking yourself into his embrace and feeling the immediate comfort of his warm body next to yours.

You would kick yourself for this in the morning, but as you fell asleep in each other’s arms, you almost didn’t care.

Almost.

Mando stirred awake first, but he didn’t move from your side. You felt his movements as he stretched his muscles and his joints under the duvet next to you, only to shove himself back into your embrace while he moaned sleepily. You fluttered your eyes open, feeling his beating heart on your back as he hugged you from behind.

“You picked my lock again,” You croaked out, sleep still present within your voice.

A small, modulated chuckle trickled over you. “Didn’t want to wake you,” He spoke, his voice just as raw and utterly delicious as it had been waking up to him last week.

You fluttered your fingers over his own, wrapped around your torso and dangling comfortably in front of your face. His hands twitched when you first touched them, but as he got used to the sensation, he squeezed your fingers back, swiping his thumb over your knuckles rhythmically.

“I have some news,” You let out gravely, swallowing down a sudden bout of nerves. Karga—you had to tell him about Karga. You shuffled in bed, rolling over to face him head on. That didn’t stop him from repositioning himself, allowing you to lay upon his forearm. “Karga came in here two days ago, asking about you,”

You half expected Mando to tense, to sit up immediately, to go straight into hunter mode, but he didn’t. He stayed put, almost mesmerised by your face looking directly at his own. Slowly, gently, he raised a hand to your cheek, rubbing his thumb over the morning blush that they possessed. He swiped his fingers over your jaw, slotting some stray hairs behind your ear and utterly ignoring the fact that you definitely had bed hair.

Exhaling, you closed your eyes. His fingers never lost their touch, never lost their softness. You happily melted whenever he touched you, igniting your senses while simultaneously making you feel as safe as he possibly could. You wondered if your touches, your stares, your movements, made him feel the same way?

You swallowed, forcing yourself to drift back to reality, opening up your eyes. “This is serious, Mando,” You persisted. “He offered me a deal. I had to make up an excuse to deny him. Someone’s spotted you coming here and they’re suspicious,” Mando continued traversing his fingers over your face.

“Did they see you leaving the Razor Crest?” He asked gently.

“If they did, Karga didn’t mention it,”

Mando was silent for a beat, indulging in you. Then he nodded once, sternly, seeming content with that answer.

“Good. Karga believed you?”

“He took back his credits and walked out. There were no threats, so that’s a win in my book,”

“Good,”

Good. You ignored the way your heart swelled at his words. He was worried about you in this situation, not about himself. You expected Mando had been through his fair share of hiccups with the Guild, especially after he told you about the shit with the kid. His ability to brush these things off frustrated you though; maybe he was careless, or maybe he was just used to it. Either way, you still had anxiety in your gut about the encounter.

“Do you want some caf?” You asked in a whisper, still relishing in the way his fingers were floating over your skin.

“Wait,” He said in reply, which prompted you to go completely still. His fingers wound up your forehead, touching you so lightly that you could barely feel them skimming your skin. You let out a pent-up breath, relaxing ever so slightly into his grasp and sinking further into his arm. You closed your eyes once more, trying to expel the stress you felt about Karga, the constant fears of messing up these meetings with Mando, and the incessant urge to kiss every portion of his bare skin until he whimpered.

This intimacy; you craved it. Him; you missed him.

As much as it pained you, you couldn’t stop the internal clock within you from counting down every second you were with him, knowing that eventually it would run out and he’d have to leave again. With every week that passed, you missed him more, and with every time he arrived at your doorstep, you wanted him to stay for longer and longer each time.

Stars. You’d become a wetwipe over a man whose face you’d never seen.

“You made yourself very comfortable here last night,” You said, keeping your eyes closed but shooting him an amused smile. You loved that he felt at home here, loved that after so many months he finally felt open to be this soft, this gentle. There was always another side to people, and with Mando it was something you’d never expected—

He was a hunter, a killer, so ingrained in his work that it was all he did between these brief visits of comfort and affection. Maybe you were helping; helping him to return to himself after tracking and capturing quarries. It made you feel worth something, for once in your life, without that worth being down to the amount of blood you spilled in your prior life.

“It’s easy to, when you fit perfectly in my grasp,” He uttered coarsely. You perked an eyebrow at him, which he tentatively fluttered his fingers over.

“Are you saying I’m small?” You joked.

“I’m saying, you’re more cooperative when you’re half asleep,” He joked back, letting out a breathy chuckle. Stars, what you’d do to feel his breath when he did that. The subtlety of his breath hitting your skin was another craving that you’d never known you’d wanted, until the prospect of falling for a man in a helmet arose.

You shot your eyes open, slowly bringing a hand up to his neck. You wrapped your fingers around his throat gently, slowly, relishing in the touch of his warm skin. His neck was something you’d agonised over. It was so long, so tempting to bite into that you’d had to stop yourself from doing so, when you’d plastered kisses all over his chest before. His Adam’s apple protruded attractively, bobbing up and down when he spoke to you ruggedly.

You applied a slight pressure against this blood vessels, avoiding pressing into his throat.

“Are you saying I’m uncooperative?” You spoke sensually, allowing your words to trickle all over him, until you’d got what you’d wanted; the feeling of his Adam’s apple bobbing beneath your hand—as he gulped.

Bingo.

At light speed, Mando grabbed your wrist, moving his body in the same motion to peer over you. He straddled you elegantly, pushing your wrist down into the pillow above your head. Stars, he looked good like this, and the feeling was even better. A warmth spiralled from your gut, spreading through your body as arousal began to take over all of your senses.

You squirmed slightly, prompting Mando to grab your other wrist and place it up top with your other hand, using only one of his to hold you in place. His hands were huge compared to yours, yet he was so skilful with the way he moved them. They weren’t clunky; they were stealthy, they were soft, but you also didn’t doubt his ability to snap you in two at any given moment, if he wanted to.

“Smart mouth, when will you learn to keep it shut?” He growled slowly, using his knees to pry open your legs, while he dug his free hand into your upper thigh. You obeyed, wrapping your legs around his hips and trying not to completely unfold at the feeling of your bare legs upon his clothes. Night clothes weren’t the sexist of attire to wear in a situation like this, but Mando didn’t fucking care—he had you right where he wanted you.

“I was raised never to be belittled by a man,” You replied, beginning to fight back against his grasp on your hands. Mando grunted, pressing on your wrists with increased ferocity.

“I was raised never to break a promise,” Mando let out, coming in closer, closer, closer, until his hips were pressed agonisingly between your legs. It was different this time, without the confines of cargo trousers keeping him separate from you, only a pair of thin shorts lay between you and his blissfully throbbing crotch. “The wound is healed,”

Oh, fuck. Stars, he—he didn’t mean—

Before you could widen your eyes, he was already jumping off the bed. You scrambled up to sitting, watching the intense way he strode to the blinds on your window and blacked them out completely. He scanned your floor quickly, bending down and picking up the closest item of clothing he could find, before standing over you, coiling the fabric in his hands anxiously.

You knew what he wanted; he wanted assurance that you wouldn’t see his face, not while his helmet was off and on your floor. Stars, off and on your floor. Your expression softened as you shuffled towards him, draping your legs off the bed and leaning back to look up at him.

Mando wasted no time tying the shirt over your eyes. He was gentle when he tightened it, making sure not to make it uncomfortable for you. He was sweet like that, but what he did next, was the furthest thing from sweet.

Before you could react, an arm had hooked around your back, the other under your legs, as Mando all but threw you back upon the bed. Your head hit the pillow, sprawling you out in front of him while you struggled against the pitch blackness of your vision. You let out a whimper as you sensed him over you, as his hands started trailing over every part of your body; your legs, your arms, teasing his fingers up and under your night shirt and fiddling temptingly at the waistband of your shorts.

Stars, you ceased to breath.

When he stopped, it was only to take off his helmet. You heard the way it ruffled his hair beneath as he tugged it off with a grunt. That voice; you couldn’t wait to hear his voice. Without the modulator, without the immediate lowering of his tone and monotonous ways Mando spoke while he wore it.

You were practically shaking in anticipation, not being able to see where he was, or know when he’d appear between your legs. You squirmed, letting out an incredibly nervous whimper, and Mando folded—he chuckled to himself, floating his delicious voice over the room, before you felt fingers curl around your waist snuggly.

He crawled his fingers up your shirt slowly, making sure to touch as much of you as he could. Electricity wound its way up your arms, your legs, your torso, heightening your remaining senses and making everything utterly blissful—you were in heaven, stars, you knew that he was going to be good. There was no doubting it, not after the display of his skills previously.

Mando curled the fabric of your shirt up and over your tender breasts, taking his time as he slalomed his fingers between them, circling back round to skim your nipples, causing the breath to hitch in the back of your throat—

“Smart mouth,” Mando growled. His face, his bare face, was just above you, relishing in the look of you utterly helpless, melting at his touches upon new areas of your body. You bit down on your bottom lip, loving the nickname he’d adopted for you—but fuck—that’s when he let out the most painful of moans. “Fuck—,” He forced out, and in an instant, his lips were upon yours—

You wasted no time wrapping your arms around his shoulders, overwhelmed by the pure feeling of him being this close once more. You could barely talk after he’d kissed you last, and you didn’t doubt the same thing would fucking happen this time, but stars, you didn’t care. If it gave Mando the confidence to go further, to touch you all over, to know that he made you weak, then that’s all you cared about.

Fuck your dignity. Fuck your blush. If Mando wanted it, you’d just about give him anything.

His tongue fell into your mouth, deliciously inhaling you and enjoying every second of being this close. He nipped at your lower lip, groaning into your mouth with strained pleasure, while his hands slowly—delicately, agonisingly—made their way further and further down your body, finding your waistband once more.

Without warning, Mando separated from you, breathing out heavily as you still felt him upon your lips—but his breath, you felt it. You felt him breathing, felt his puffs of air as he tried desperately to quench his thirst for you. Stars—it was fucking hot. You squirmed in pleasure as Mando’s hand trickled beneath your waistband, skimming the skin just before your warmth and making you blush brighter than ever before.

“You want me to stop?” He growled. He was hungry. And you’d be lying if you didn’t love it when he spoke to you like this. You shook your head feverishly, as Mando slowly began to pull down your shorts.

He started slow, making you whimper as the anticipation became too much, before ripping them off of you. You raised your legs to the sky as he pulled the fabric from each foot and threw them behind him, the same way he’d done with those tight trousers. You gasped when he stopped momentarily though, as his fingers brushed over the scarred skin on your right ankle—

You began to get up, to reach out and find his hand to stop him from looking at the mark, but all you got in return was Mando spreading your legs as wide as they could go. You collapsed back onto the bed, trying to stop your upper thighs from trembling, but it was far too late.

“You’re already drenched,” Mando breathed out, looking at your pussy head on; relishing in the way it glistened just for him. You whimpered, feeling the vulnerabilities of him staring at your slit and trying to close your legs as a reflex, but stars—Mando didn’t like that.

He didn’t like that one bit.

His fingers dug into your thighs as he opened your legs sternly, grunting in effort at the small fight you were putting up. “Don’t you dare,” He growled sternly, and stars, you all but froze in place. “Don’t hide,” He continued, softening his voice slightly as you continued to fucking die as the mere image of him descending upon your aching pussy. “Not from me, ever,”

Ever—when he said it, you flinched all over. Because you could feel his breath; you could feel it on your pussy. Right over your throbbing clit, right over your blistering warmth. Mando was biding his time, making you cry, making you whimper and whine, and he was loving it. The bastard, the fucking bastard.

“Mando—,” You stuttered out, but all too soon his mouth latched onto your pussy. You let out the longest groan you’d ever released as all of your muscles tensed at once. Your entire body was on fire, lit up from the subtle movements of Mando’s tongue slowly licking up and down over your sensitive slit.

His hands gripped your thighs hungrily, pulling you closer to his mouth with every breath and shudder that ran through your body. “Fuck—fuck—,” Was the only thing you could actually manage to get out, as his tongue began drawing circles around your clit, missing it intentionally as he riled you up intensely first.

There it was, that warmth—the warmth that signified the fucking want to burst was rising up faster than ever before while Mando ate you out sublimely, mixing up his movements to be both soft and incredibly fast. His tongue was perfection, his mouth was parted just for you, as his stubble caught on your lips and added to the pleasure tenfold.

You let out a moan when he came up for air, breathing shallowly while his hands settled upon your belly, pulling you closer than ever before. “You tell me when you’re close, and I won’t ever stop,” His voice was deep, slick, his lips covered in you and only you.

Before you could reply, he buried his face between your thighs. You fucking yelled, grabbing onto the closest thing you could for stability, which happened to be his hair. His hair, it was soft, matted, but just long enough for you to pull between your flinching fingers. Mando’s ferocity only increased as you scratched your nails over his scalp, making him moan into your opening and hazard a small nip upon your clit between his teeth—

You yelped, jumping up involuntarily at his reply to your hand placement. Mando pushed you back down by your belly, diving deep between your slit to continue those agonising circles, lapping up every last drop of you that he could. His speed was increasing slowly, agonisingly, as your gut continued to coil at the feel of his mouth upon your most sensitive area—an area that you’d dreamed he’d one day explore. Stars, he was fucking relentless, showing no mercy while you were on the brink of tears.

Oh, stars—you were going to cum.

You shuddered, going utterly silent while Mando continued lapping you up. You moved your hands to his face, placing them on either side of his cheeks and digging your fingers into his neck slightly. “M-Mando—,” You stuttered out, feeling the way your gut was contracting and knowing that it wouldn’t be long.

“Cum,” Was all he said in reply. “I can feel you. Let go,” He spoke into your slit, not removing himself from your pussy while you whimpered in pleasure, heartrate accelerating, breath hitching in the back of your throat constantly.

Stars, it was going to happen, you were so close—but that’s when Mando removed himself from your clit, pushing himself up quickly until you knew he was peering down at you, face to face. He got in close to your face, bringing a hand to gently curl around your neck. You whined intensely, smacking your hands on his chest in protest.

“Please—why the fuck did you—,” Mando cut you off by pressing his blistering lips against your own. That shut you up perfectly, as you tasted yourself upon his soft lips.

“Always so rude,” He moaned into your mouth. You bit his bottom lip suddenly, making him jump away from your face.

“Says the man who just edged me to oblivion,” You growled at him, letting out a snarl as you squirmed beneath him. Mando only chuckled, and stars, it just fucking turned on you more. You were still riding the coattails of almost coming into his mouth, but you had no idea what he was playing at by leaving your aching pussy to get lonely.

“I’m not finished yet,” He said slowly, gritting his teeth in pain. “So impatient—,” He stopped talking when you grabbed him by the neck and shoved his mouth onto your own once more. He pulled back after kissing you feverishly, tightening his grip on your neck slightly as you moaned in a new type of pleasure. “I wanted to see that blush, so I can notice the difference after you cum in my mouth,”

As fast as he’d stopped, Mando shoved his face into your slit once more, and stars—you had to stop yourself from screaming. His hand stayed plastered around your throat, relishing in the way he could feel every time the breath caught in the back of your throat at his movements. If he’d been somewhat gentle before, he’d now thrown all of that out of the fucking window, adopting a delicious, up-pace rhythm as you squirmed beneath him.

The feeling in your gut came back tenfold as you fought against the rising yells in your throat. Your entire body was buzzing with pleasure, as the tension in your muscles were begging for relief, for release, for Mando to tip you over the edge.

You fumbled as you wrapped your fingers around his arm, still holding your neck firmly and pressing down heavenly upon your blood vessels. With every subtle press, your eyes rolled to the back of your head, causing a new sensation to rise within you and only increase your overall pleasure. Stars, you knew he was going to be good—

But this good? This man must have learned this from somewhere, and stars, you wanted to fucking know what else he could do; how else he could make you unwind effortlessly.

You swallowed painfully, feeling a clear acceleration beneath your chest. You felt your hairs stand on end, as sweat started to pool on your chest and other parts of your bare skin. “I’m—,” You began, but had to stop and let out a back-arching moan, as Mando only sped up the motions of his tongue upon your quivering clit. “Gonna— cum,” You forced out sternly.

Mando kept to his promise—when you said the word, he didn’t fucking stop. He only kept going, increasing his speed, tightening his grip on your belly and your neck and making you see stars behind your eyelids. You squirmed, breathing shallowly, as if in panic, when in reality you were fucking seconds away from coming into the Mandalorian’s open mouth.

You let out a few static fucks, arching your back further and further, while Mando stayed latched onto you like a fucking leech, sucking you dry, making you moan and groan and sweat and ache, and then—in a wave of pleasure, you came.

You came hard, releasing a screaming groan hybrid and collapsing your legs to fall on Mando’s head. He didn’t mind though; he kept his lips glued to your pussy, occasionally licking along your slit to lap everything up neatly. He missed your clit though, not wanting you to feel overstimulated after orgasming the hardest you ever had in your life.

You tensed every few seconds, feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm while Mando slowly, delicately, unlatched himself from you. He let out a small chuckle in approval, no doubt admiring his work, before he crawled back up to your face. He placed pecks on your neon red cheeks, bringing his mouth down to press upon your own softly, gently, directly juxtaposing to the way he’d eaten you out just moments before.

Mando was many things; terrifying, mysterious, silent. But he also had a different side; funny, soft, warming and incredibly gentle. Whichever side you got, you always felt blessed. Especially here, t-shirt tied around your eyes to stop you from seeing his face, naked from your breasts down and limbs utterly exhausted and unable to move—

You were in bliss.

Because he was next to you.

And because he’d just made you cum really fucking hard.

“Look at this,” He whispered, placing another peck upon your exhausted lips. “She’s finally lost for words,”

Stars, you would have punched him in the gut if you had the strength, but all of it was being sucked up from the colossal release you were still feeling. You simply kept silent, eyes closed behind the makeshift blindfold, relishing this feeling. Mando reached down to grab his helmet, and all too soon it was slotted back over his head. You frowned when he gently took your mask off, revealing his chrome visor that you knew so well.

You smiled at him smally as he straddled your waist softly, reaching up to place a hand against the cold Beskar of his helmet. There was something about looking at him when you did this, which of course you couldn’t do when he had his mask off. As much as you loved feeling the lines of his face, his facial hair, his lips—you loved looking at him like this.

Exposed, vulnerable, trying to show him everything that you wanted to scream at his face, but couldn’t because of the way you were inherently afraid of weakness. Was liking someone a weakness? Was wanting to be around them, make them feel good, miss them when they were gone, weak?

Or was it a strength?

Mando curled his fingers around your wrist gently, just holding them there while you kept an unwavering stare on his visor. “I can make some caf,” He said quietly, his voice utterly different to the way he’d spoken when he was face deep in your cunt.

You couldn’t help it—you let out a scoff, draping an arm over your blushing face to cover yourself up from even more humiliation. “You just ate my pussy, made me cum, and now you’re going to make me caf?” You let out, stuttering out some involuntary chuckles after speaking.

Stars, you knew he was grinning beneath that fucking helmet, just from the way he was silently looking at you. “Yeah,” He replied simply, before getting up and heading to the small kitchenette of the shop.

Mando stayed for coffee, though he didn’t have any, obviously. He did lie next to you as you drank your own, watching the way you went over your schedule and agenda for the working day, noting things down with a tiny, over-sharpened pencil in a notepad and sipping at your caf throughout.

He didn’t say much, just light conversation about the kid, about his upcoming meeting with Karga later that morning, about the way you needed to brush your hair, before he was combing his fingers through your scalp without being asked to. Mando, you realised, had a love language; something to show his affection, his desires, to show his care. It wasn’t speaking, he was a man of little to no words. It was touching—

However small. A hand on your back, fingers combing through your hair, thumb swiping over your lips. That was him saying “I’m here. I’m here right now, with you.”

When it was time for him to leave, you tried not to pout. He slotted his Beskar back on, mumbling to himself about checking on the kid before heading to the bar, and then he was slinging his satchel over his shoulder and following you to the door. You hugged your arms coldly, patting bare feet upon the shop floor before you unlocked the front door and creaked it open.

Mando lingered in the doorway. “Meet me at the Razor Crest tonight,” He stated. You widened your eyes in surprise.

“Why?” You questioned. His visor didn’t meet your eyes.

“I need to ask you something,” He said finally. You nodded slowly, despite him not looking towards you. That’s when he left. No “See you next week”, no flirtatious banter that both of you had become accustomed to over the past few months. No nothing.

You felt slightly anxious when you shut the door, trying not to overthink his incredibly blunt nature, after such a comfortable night and intense morning together. Mando was many things; a hunter, a killer, and you knew he was dangerous. But that didn’t stop you from feeling these things. It didn’t stop you from second guessing every silent stare, every absent touch, every blunt reply.

Stars—men.

Nevertheless, you had work to do. You readied yourself for the day, all too aware of the ticking clock, counting down to when you’d next see your Mandalorian—

To when you’d get to kiss those lips once more.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fic #star wars #star wars fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #no saints #no saints fic #smut and angst #smut and fluff #hurt and comfort #fanfiction #wattpad #ao3 #updat

[florrickandassociates]

TGF Thoughts: 5x01- Previously on...

Welcome back!! I’m so excited to be writing one of these again. I think this hiatus has been the longest I’ve gone without new Diane Lockhart content in ten years, and it sure feels like it. A lot of important stuff has happened in the time since TGF season four ended (not concluded—ended). Most notably, CBS All Access became Paramount+ and suddenly started offering a lot of content I care about! I kid. 2020 was quite an eventful year, so I was curious how television’s most topical show was going to take it on. TGF is always forward-looking, but too much happened in 2020 to be ignored. And while I didn’t think TGF would have much to say about the pandemic, it seemed impossible to imagine a season five that pretended it never happened. Going into this premiere, I was expecting that they’d either skip COVID entirely or include very few references, but after seeing this episode, I feel like the writers took the only approach that made sense. And that is why they are the writers, and I'm just some girl on the internet who writes recaps.  

Anyway, before I dive into the episode, I should also note that my pandemic boredom spurred me to actually pay $30 to watch this episode early as part of the virtual ATX Festival. Yes, I paid $30 on top of the money I spend every month on Paramount+ for this show. But I write tens of thousands of words about each TGF episode—are my priorities really that surprising? I note this not to brag or even to poke fun at myself, but because watching the episode before I knew a single thing about it (not even the title!) completely changed my viewing experience. I’ve never had an experience like this with TGW or TGF. I’m one to search for critics tweeting cryptically about screeners and refresh sites looking for background extras (haven’t done this in the TGF era, though) and read every single piece of press I can find. For any big episode, I usually know the outline of what to expect going in (I even knew about Will before the episode aired in the US!). Not this one! So, I got to be surprised, and I had to—gasp—formulate my own opinions before I knew what anyone else thought! It was really pleasant, actually. I think the structure of the episode worked extremely well for me because it caught me by surprise... and also because I’m the kind of person who somehow managed to write a college paper about Previously On sequences.

I see Tumblr has made it so that “keep reading” expands the post in your dash instead of opening a new tab. I absolutely hate this. Here is a link to the post you can click instead of the keep reading button! 

The ATX stream started mid-sentence, meaning I missed the “Previously On... 2020...” title card and skipped right to Adrian saying “I’m retiring.” It was pretty easy to pick up on the device (the directness of the scenes at the start, their cadence, and their placement in the episode made it clear this was meant to mimic a Previously) but the second title card hit way harder because... well, I had no idea if this was meant to be 2020 or some moment outside of real time until a bit later in the episode.  

Man, before I get any farther into this, two things that I don’t know where else to put. First, this episode had to cover so much ground. They had to write out both Adrian and Lucca—more on that later--, figure out how to deal with all of 2020, figure out how to either wrap up or continue all the truncated season 4 plotlines, and set the stage for a new season... in 50 minutes.  

Second, just wanna shout out the Kings’ other Paramout+ show, Evil, which you should absolutely be watching even if you hate horror. Evil is a Kings show, so it is unsurprisingly topical (sometimes evil takes the form of racism or misogyny or Scott Rudin) and at times very, very funny. I would be recapping it if Paramount+ weren’t attacking me personally by airing it at the same time as TGF. Ever hear of too much of a good thing, people?! (On that note, I am VERY upset with myself for not having made a Good vs Evil joke about the Good shows and Evil. I didn’t even think about it until Robert King made the joke on Twitter, and it was right fucking there. How did I fail so miserably?!)  

So STR Laurie, who wants a 20% downsizing, is still a thing. Noted.

This scene with Landau is the only one in this previously that is actually old footage, right?  

Unexpected Margo Martindale! Yay! (Ruth Eastman is a character who is so much more effective on Fight than she was on Wife and I’m quite glad they’ve had her appear on Fight several times. It kind of redeems season seven. Kind of.)

I don’t think the writers intentionally chose for Adrian’s book deal to be with Simon & Schuster because it is the most politically fraught publisher (the number of stories about controversial memoirs they’ve picked up in 2021 alone...) but I kind of like that Adrian’s Road Not Taken involves S&S. My guess is they chose S&S because it is owned by ViacomCBS.  

“Years ago, I wanted to create a law firm run entirely by women, but it never worked out. So, why not now?” Diane says to Liz. One of the advantages of having twelve (!!!) seasons of Diane Lockhart is that we’ve seen what she’s talking about. And we’ve seen her put this idea forward multiple times, too. I have my reservations about Diane’s brand of feminism, and I’ll say more about how fraught a Diane/Liz firm would be as the show explores the potential issues there, but on the surface I’m kind of excited about the prospect of a Diane/Liz led firm. Diane has wanted this for ages, Liz is a good partner, and this actually makes sense (unlike the nonsensical Diane/Alicia alliance of late season seven, where the only rationale was “well, Alicia needs to betray Diane in the finale, but they’re not on good terms. So maybe we make them business partners so then the betrayal stings more?”). Plus I fully love that Diane would end up running a firm with Alicia’s law school rival.

(Has TGF mentioned that Liz and Alicia were law school rivals? No. Am I still clinging on to that as a large part of Liz’s character? ABSOLUTELY.)

Julius is on trial for Memo 618 reasons; Diane is defending him. So this is still happening. (There’s more old footage here.)  

Do they put these references to one/two party consent in these episodes as a wink at the fans? It has to be intentional. (Please do not ask me what the actual law is on this, this show has thoroughly confused me.)  

I knew Cush was filming stuff for TGF, but I didn’t know it was for the premiere. She was just posting about it a few weeks ago, so either they shot a lot of it right before air or she posted a while after filming. Anyway, yay Lucca!  

Bianca’s still around. And, TGF gets to shoot New York for New York, since Bianca is there. I do wish TGF could do more location shoots; there’s something about seeing an actual skyline that feels more real.  

Bianca wants Lucca, who has never been outside of the country (except to St. Lucia, as Bianca reminds her) to go to London and buy her a resort. It’s supposed to be a three week stay and Bianca’s already arranged childcare. Speaking of children, because of COVID and filming constraints, that’s Cush’s real kid in this scene! You can’t really see him, but I recognized his curly hair from Cush’s Instagram, and the Kings confirmed in an interview.  

Adrian wants to write a book about police brutality cases he’s worked on. Ruth very much does not want him to write that book. She wants him to write a book without substance about how white people and black people can work together. He, understandably, has no interest in writing this book. (Also, you can see in the background that Ruth doesn’t think Biden’s odds of winning the Democratic primary are good—there is a big down arrow next to his picture, which definitely dates this scene.)

Oh, David Lee is in this episode. He acts like an asshole towards Marissa when she’s trying to help him.  

Marissa, not happy with the lack of respect, calls Lucca for advice “for a friend.” Lucca mentions she’s in London and Marissa does not believe her and keeps going on and on about her frustrations and her new desire to become a lawyer—quickly.  

Marissa wanting to become a lawyer because she “hates being talked down to” is not a plot I would’ve expected but it’s also one that makes a lot of sense. I think Marissa’s used to being respected and praised even when she’s doing things that aren’t glamorous, so I see how she’d get very restless when she’s no longer outperforming expectations and is instead taken for granted.  

Bells toll in the background on Lucca’s side and Marissa asks where she is. Lucca again notes she’s in London and Marissa still doesn’t believe her.

I’m going to miss Lucca so much, especially since we’ll also be losing a lot of the Millennial Friendship scenes with her. Cush is fantastic (even if she never really got enough to do here) and she plays so well off of the rest of the cast. I even sometimes liked the writing for Maia (who?) when she had scenes with Lucca, Lucca is that good.  

Jay wakes up sweating and unable to breathe, so he deliriously calls his father-figure Adrian. This whole scene is shot like something out of Evil and (I’m getting ahead of myself here) this plot is the only thing about this episode I felt was a misstep.  

“I think you’re my father,” Jay says to Adrian. Heh, I didn’t catch this line the first time around (maybe subliminally I did, since I just called Adrian his father figure lol) but I love that it is included here. Adrian and Jay’s relationship definitely deserves a goodbye.

Adrian calls an ambulance and also gets to Jay before the ambulance somehow. Adrian notes that Jay might have “this thing from China” and... we’re doing the pandemic, y’all. (Minor nitpick: on March 13th, 2020, when this scene is dated, COVID was not “this thing from China”-- we were all aware of it. March 11th was the day Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson announced they’d tested positive and the NBA shut down and travel was restricted and every single brand that had my email sent me a message about their plans and measures. March 12th was the last time I was in my office, and we’d been getting emails telling us to wash our hands and prepare to work remotely for weeks. I went to San Francisco in mid-late February and distinctly remember deciding to leave a burrito unattended on a table while I washed my hands because I was paranoid about COVID... and then I remember making a specific trip to Walgreens to buy hand sanitizer so that didn’t happen again. My point is, Adrian lives in the same world I do. On March 13th 2020, he would not be treating COVID like it was some new thing he’d vaguely heard of.)  

(I am going to nitpick this timeline, but please know that I’m only doing it because I can, not because I think it’s necessarily a bad choice. Lines like this do feel a little forced, but I see the reason for introducing COVID as something new rather than going for the line that’s exactly historically accurate. I also am pretty sure there are references to dates in March/April in s4 of TGF that are now going to be contradicted by this episode, but I truly do not care. The writers get a pass on this one.)  

We skip slightly back in time to the beginning of March after the MARCH 13TH title card, or maybe this is supposed to be after March 13th and my own memories are preventing me from believing these face-to-face interactions were happening. Who knows.

Michael Bloomberg is... here, again, I guess? He asks Diane to assist with a Supreme Court case about gun control. I guess it does add some weight to the plot and make the stakes feel higher.  

Oh hey, this case is the 7x17 case!!!! Love that continuity.  

Diane and Adrian are both at the office late, working, and there is an unnecessary split screen that feels even more unnecessary when you consider that the editing alone was enough to create the parallel.  

Diane and Adrian have a nice convo (which I’ll really miss, their dynamic is great and this really feels like a successful partnership) as they wait for the elevator. When the elevator dings, they nearly tumble down into nothingness because... the elevator never came. Apparently this is a reference to an law old show I’ve never seen that killed off a character this way, and it’s meant to be a wink at how they are not going to kill off Adrian.

I do not know why I remember this, but I do: after they killed off Will, a critic (Noel Murray; I just googled to confirm my memory) who didn’t want to spoil things tweeted, “Exactly 23 years and 2 days ago, Rosalind Shays fell down an elevator shaft.” Please tell me why I remember this reference that I didn’t even understand well enough to have tracked down the original tweet in under a minute. (https://twitter.com/NoelMu/status/447942456827326464)  

Back on this show, Diane and Adrian share a drink and talk about their wishes. Diane wants to argue in front of the Supreme Court, and Adrian encourages her to speak up. His own near-death experience motivates him to trash the book Ruth has him writing, and Diane trashes the (bad) legal strategy someone else prepared for the Supreme Court.

DIANE IS WEARING JEANS!!!!!! Tbh, I think my favorite part of this episode is how many slice-of-life scenes and settings we get. These are always my favorite moments. I love the satirical and political stuff too, but the character moments are what get me invested enough to write these. (Yes, Diane in jeans constitutes a character moment.)  

Diane tells Bloomberg she wants to be involved and advocates for herself. Kurt gets a call on their landline (hahaha) from Adrian.

God, I love Diane and Kurt. Not only is their banter fun, you can just see a different, more relaxed side of Diane in these scenes. Diane tells Kurt she has good news for herself, but bad news for him since she’s arguing for gun control. She asks him to help her prep for court, too.  

So this is before Jay is rushed to the hospital, because now we are back at the hospital with Julius, Diane, and Marissa. I do not believe any of these people would be setting foot in a hospital like it’s any other day on March 13th, 2020. But I'm trying not to nitpick.

I get why they chose to give Jay a rather severe case of COVID. I just don’t get literally anything else that follows from the initial shock of Jay having COVID.  

I see why the writers chose March 20th (the actual Illinois stay at home order) as the next date for this timeline. I still do not believe that people were in this particular office on that date.  

You know what else I don’t believe? That RBL just shut down for two weeks and was like, no work is being done. Did law firms really do this? I can believe it if it’s an excuse to cost-cut, and I know there were massive layoffs, but this seems... really weird???  

Why are they setting up a teleconferencing infrastructure (didn’t they have one at LG? In season five?) if they are not planning to do work?  

Lol Diane explains what Zoom is, very slowly. She asks everyone to “download a program called Zoom.com” which is one of the first Zoom jokes I’ve chuckled at in a while.  

Marissa is not happy to hear that there’s no work for her in a work-remote world (this I believe 100%), so she calls Lucca again with more questions about law school.

Love these NYC and London location shots. Wish they could do that for Chicago.

Lucca asks Bianca to help get Marissa into a law school, fast, and Bianca tells Lucca to use her name... then offers her a job.

Marissa is at the office, alone, boxing up her things, when one of the office phones rings with some dude offering her a spot in a law school class. I guess we are really all-in on this! (Why would Lucca have given a firm phone number not specific to Marissa, though?)

Adrian and his corrupt girlfriend decide to shelter in place together. I still do not understand why he is okay with her being corrupt. I also don’t really understand why they’re going from talking about sheltering-in-place to George Floyd. How did we just skip from late March to late May? Are Adrian and corrupt gf having a conversation about sheltering-in-place two months into sheltering in place?  

Okay, I am not doing so good at this no-nitpicking thing. Again, I understand why they need to merge several scenes into one to keep things moving. And I guess they could just be getting around to this conversation.

I’m going to nitpick again, I can’t help myself. How did we just go from a scene of Adrian specifically talking about sheltering in place to a scene of Adrian bursting into a bustling and maskless DNC headquarters room? How!? The only masks in this scene are on TV!! There are like ten people in this scene!  

Anyway, more importantly, Adrian tells Ruth off and screams at her that she needs to listen to him instead of acting like she knows the way forward. He is completely right.  

Why is travel from London closing down in May 2020? Is it because this scene is supposed to be at a different place in the episode? Liz is asking Lucca to come back home from her three week stay in London (which has now lasted three months but travel is just now closing down), and Lucca’s hesitant to come home.

This is all happening via Zoom, btw. Lucca’s in her hotel, Diane and Adrian are at their respective homes, and Liz is in the office. All of this feels right. There is a chat off to the side of the screen where you can see Adrian and the others discussing how to unmute on Zoom. Very real. Though probably not very real in late May 2020. Feels more like April. I am convinced this scene got spliced in later to help the episode flow because everything in this scene (except the TV footage that definitely was added later) feels like it should be happening in the March section.  

Lucca mentions that Bianca offered her a job, and at this point we as viewers know how things are going to go—Lucca's going to end up taking it. Liz types in the Zoom chat that they don’t want to lose Lucca. When Lucca tells them how much Bianca’s offering ($500k/year, go Lucca!), Diane types “Shit.” into the chat. “Shit’s right,” Liz replies. “Yes... What should our counter be?” Diane replies. Lucca is kind enough to point out the messages are not private (again, this feels like March not May) but I think knowing that their reaction to topping $500k is “shit” tells her all she needs to know.  

Diane’s background still says that RBL is a division of STR Laurie. Weird how little we are hearing about the overlords except the 20% staff cut.  

Liz and Adrian chat and decide the only way to keep Lucca is to make her a partner. Which, yeah, if you’d just made her a partner years ago when you told her she was in the running for partner and then offered it to fucking MAIA, maybe she wouldn’t be considering Bianca’s offer. Lucca is definitely one of RBL’s stars, and I don’t think she’s wrong to feel like they don’t value her enough. They treat her well enough to be upset about losing her, but not well enough to have already made her partner and not well enough to actually give her authority (even though she runs a whole department). I’d be pretty unhappy too. It kind of feels sometimes like they take her for granted, and I don’t know that Lucca is one to feel like she owes a company anything. She’s more of an “I’m out for myself” type.  

Madeline and the other partner we’ve seen a few times who isn’t Liz/Diane/Adrian, walk into the office (wearing masks! Which they take off as soon as they enter a room with Liz! Without asking her if she is okay with this! TV logic!) and ask who is replacing Adrian. They think this is a good time to reevaluate having a white name partner of an African American firm, and they are spot on. Liz tries to deflect, noting that Diane is already a name partner and was before Liz even joined, but Madeline and other partner (whose name I really wish they would say so I can stop calling him “other partner”) won’t let up. Their position is that Diane shouldn’t have been made a name partner then—all she did was bring in ChumHum, an account that quickly left the firm. Good point.  

“What is this firm if it’s not African American? It’s just another midsized all-service Midwestern law firm, one of 50,” Madeline argues. The other partner says Liz needs to remove Diane and promote two African Americans to name partner. Liz laughs and asks if they mean themselves. Madeline does not—she's concerned about the number of black associates they’re letting go. Liz heads out, but this conversation is very much ongoing.

And I think it’s a very interesting dilemma! There’s a lot of mileage the writers can get out of this, because I don’t think there’s a right answer or a wrong one. It’s all about what Liz decides she wants the future of the firm to be. If Liz chooses Diane, she might be choosing something that works for her personally or that she thinks is a safer financial bet—but she’ll be choosing to work at a firm that can no longer be thought of as a black firm, and she’ll be choosing to move away from her father’s vision for the firm. And since the plot hinges on what Liz will decide rather than what’s objectively the right path forward, there’s a lot of interesting tension there I can’t wait to see.  

(My favorite thing about Adrian leaving is that Liz will likely get more to do, especially when it comes to managing the firm. Adrian tends to speak up first, but Liz is more than capable of managing without him and I’m so excited to see what she does when her ex-husband isn’t constantly talking over her.)  

Marissa and Lucca video chat with Jay. He’s still in the hospital. One thing that bugs me about how this episode handles COVID is that I never really get the sense that any of the characters are particularly afraid of the virus. Maybe none of them were. But you’d think you’d see a little of that fear, the weird dance of trying to assess others’ comfort levels with masking, etc., in an ep specifically about living through this time. ESPECIALLY since someone they all know and are close to has been hospitalized for MONTHS with this thing! It’s just so weird to go from a scene where people wear masks until they come in contact with other people (when masks matter the most) to a scene of someone in the hospital with COVID.  

And now Jay’s weird hallucinations start as his battery dies on the video chat. I really, truly, hated these hallucinations. I was ready to be done with these from the second they started. They’re weirdly shot, they go on for too long, and they feel like the clunkiest parts of Mind’s Eye when Alicia starts having a debate in her mind about atheism mixed with the (far superior) hospital episode of Evil.  

I don’t have much to say about these hallucinations except that I hated them a lot. When there’s the reveal that Jay is hallucinating a commerical, I almost came around on the hallucinations because that’s kind of funny and inspired. And then several more hallucinations popped up and they had a round table and Jesus got added to the mix and I was like, nope, this is bad in a very uninteresting way. I reject this.  

I feel like the Kings didn’t have much to say about COVID, the actual virus. This episode is definitely more about what the characters’ lives were like during COVID and not the pandemic itself. I think they likely got a lot of their COVID commentary out of their system with their zombie COVID show The Bite (I have not seen The Bite due to it airing on Spectrum On Demand, which I have no way of accessing. Like, I would have to move and then decide to pay for cable in order to watch it.) I also suspect a lot of their commentary on COVID isn’t going to be specific to the virus and is instead going to be about things like mask-wearing and vaccinations becoming political. And, really, that’s just a new variation on talking about polarization... and they’ve been talking about polarization for years.

In fact, they even wrote a whole series about an outbreak of a (space-bug-spread) virus that caused political polarization before Trump was even elected. BrainDead is basically commentary on the pandemic before the pandemic even happened. Soooooo I get why they are more interested in recapping 2020 than in doing a Very Special Episode about themes they’ve been talking about for years. (I still think they would’ve benefitted from at least one character being afraid of getting sick or getting their family sick.)  

There is likely some interesting content in these Jay hallucinations. I hate them so much I cannot find it. You know when you’re just on a completely different wavelength than the writers? This is an example of that.  

Also I’m not a fan of the shadowy directing. I think this is meant to look cooler than it does.  

Have I mentioned yet that I absolutely love the “Previously On” device for this episode? It’s such a fun, propulsive way to get through the slog of 2020. Scenes can be short and to the point, and each scene has to do a lot of lifting to fill in the gaps. I think that leads to scenes that are better constructed and telling on lots of levels—where are people when they’re quarantined? Who’s wearing casual clothes and when? What about this scene defines this character’s life at that moment in time?  

Bizarrely, even though this episode is pretty much all plot (this happens! Then that!), I actually found this to be one of the most character-driven episodes TGF has ever done. There’s a lot of story, but most of that story is about how the characters reacted to 2020 rather than overarching plots that will weigh on the rest of the season. This episode covers a lot of ground, but it does it with character moments that resonate.  

Now it’s July and Diane’s prepping to argue in front of the Supreme Court. Kurt’s helping her witness prep and it gets a little personal... and that ends up turning Diane on. Good to see McHart hasn’t lost its spark. (Remember how Kurt cheated on Diane in season 7 of Wife? No, me neither, because that never happened.)  

Corrupt judge is back. Adrian playfully tries to distract her from work. Then he takes a video call from Liz, who updates him on the conversation she had with John (so that’s his name) and Madeline. I guess that part of May was close to July? Anyway, Adrian isn’t surprised to hear that people are upset at the prospect of Diane being one of two name partners.  

Liz is at the office in workout clothes and I love it!

They’re losing 15 black associates (and Adrian and Lucca) and 4 white ones, Liz says. This sounds like a very big problem. (I’d be curious to know what that is as a percentage of the firm and how the racial composition shifts.)

Liz knows it’s not exactly up to her if Diane stays on as name partner (the other partners get a vote, but I think Liz knows she has a lot of sway here). She’s also wondering if Biden could win, and if so, would it be to the firm’s advantage to be black-owned? Interesting.  

“Well. If you’re thinking it, then Diane’s thinking it, too,” Adrian says. He’s right. “White guilt. It runs verrrrry deep on that one, huh?” Ha. He is right about that, too. I actually can’t decide which of these interpretations is correct, because it could be either even though they seem contradictory. (1) Is Adrian saying it with a hint of mockery because he knows Diane will fight for her partnership even as she would say she’s a huge supporter of black businesses? (2) Is he saying it because he knows Diane would have enough white guilt to realize what her presence as a partner means and think through the implications? I think it is, somehow, a combination. I’m interested in this line because this whole dilemma (from Diane’s POV) is something that’s very familiar. Diane’s always been an idealist who will betray her ideals for personal gain. That sounds like an attack, but I mean that as neutrally as I possibly can. There are so many examples of this that this is kind of just a character trait of hers at this point. Usually those ideals are about feminism, but this situation seems closely related.  

Adrian overhears Corrupt GF talking about Julius, Diane, and Memo 618. You would think she would wait to have this conversation until there is no chance of Adrian overhearing, because if Adrian overhears, he might...

... do exactly what he proceeds to do and hop into a car with Diane to give her a heads up. (I think I’m just going to have to accept that the mask usage rule on this episode is “we use masks to show that the characters would wear them, but we don’t want to have scenes where characters are fully masked because that’s annoying.” If that’s not the rule, then why else would Adrian be masked outside... and then take off his mask as soon as he gets into a confined indoor space with Diane?  

Baranski looks ESPECIALLY like Taylor Swift in this scene.  

Adrian tells Diane what he knows. He dug deeper after overhearing Charlotte, so he has even more info. “If you tell me, I will use it,” Diane warns. Adrian knows that, so he takes a moment to decide. And he decides that he cares more about Diane and Julius than about his relationship with a corrupt judge.  

Diane and Julius are masked in court. Visitor and the judge are not. They use masking in a clever way in this scene: Diane uses being masked to her advantage because it means no one can possibly read her lips, so she can use the info Adrian fed her against Charlotte without any fear of spies. Charlotte, who is unmasked, guards her lips with a folder, as the Visitor watches interestedly.  

Diane convinces Charlotte to recuse herself. Charlotte says she’s making a mistake; Diane does not care.  

The new judge is, unfortunately, the idiot who doesn’t know anything about the law. Uh oh.

Charlotte decides she’s done sheltering in place with Adrian. He tries to talk through the conflict, but Charlotte says “You made your choice, Adrian. Julius Cain over me.”

“The choice was about right and wrong, Charlotte,” Adrian tries to explain. I mean, yeah, but if you’re dating a judge who has admitted she’s totally corrupt, didn’t right and wrong go out the window a while ago?

Adrian seems to think the other people involved in the events are bad and Charlotte is good. I am not convinced. I don’t think she’s the big bad, but I don’t think she’s good.  

Charlotte points out that he invaded her privacy. She is right about that. “You said the choice was between right and wrong. Turning over my emails was the choice,” she said. I get her POV. But also, she is corrupt.  

I do not like the way the part of the scene where Adrian physically restrains Charlotte to keep her from leaving is shot. I don’t think this is an abusive scene but I think it should’ve been shot from a little farther back so we could see it’s more like Adrian reaching out in desperation than trying to choke Charlotte. Because it very much looks like he is trying to choke Charlotte.  

He tells Charlotte he loves her. She says it’s too late and leaves. “Maybe you won’t be with me. But you keep down this path... you’ll be done, I’m telling you, you’ll be done.”

I think something that I’ve been missing in these interactions is that I didn’t quite realize until this scene that the Adrian/Charlotte dynamic is more interesting than Adrian liking a corrupt judge. I think he truly believes Charlotte is a good person who got caught up in some bad stuff, and that she can bounce back from it. I’ve always seen Charlotte as someone who is corrupt for herself and then ended up going along with the corruption of others, too, so I’ve dismissed her and the relationship. This is the first scene that has felt real to me, and the first scene where she’s felt like more than a caricature. Kind of sad it’s the last she’ll get with Adrian—now I’m actually starting to find her interesting. Notice how in these last few sentences I’ve used her name instead of “Corrupt GF”!  

Charlotte says she loved Adrian too, but that’s not enough. Awww.

He can’t really be surprised though, can he?  

Now it is August and we get to see Diane and Liz react to the announcement of Kamala Harris as Biden’s VP pick, and I would like to thank the writers for giving me the opportunity to see Diane and Liz react to this. It’s kind of fan-service, but it’s also a nice tie-in to the girl-power theme of the Diane/Liz alliance.

Diane and Liz realize that Adrian’s probably not a good candidate for 2024 if the DNC only wants one black candidate and Harris is the clear front-runner. Liz suggests keeping him on as partner instead, in a way that very much implies this would be her ideal solution. Diane, being Diane, says she was liking the idea of an all-female firm. Liz hesitantly says she was too, and Diane senses the hesitation.

“Let’s look again at which associates to fire. I’m worried we’re losing too many African Americans,” Diane switches the subject. How have they still not made this decision? If any employees know downsizing is coming, and they’ve had months to act on it, assuming there are jobs elsewhere, people would’ve been jumping ship by now.  

But that’s not the point of this scene. The point of this scene is that Liz corrects Diane: “Black. You can just say Black people.” Very nice moment underlining the tension. Diane means well, but she’s still acting like a white lady who doesn’t know how to act around black people... and she wants to (and, I guess, already does) run a black firm. Major yikes.  

Marissa and Lucca are talking again. Marissa does not want to be in law school—she just wants to be a lawyer. Lucca won’t accept Marissa’s refusal to memorize meaningless rules: “Marissa. I know that you know how to play the game, but you have to pass the bar to get into a position to play the game.” Why does this line make me love Lucca? This line isn’t even anything amazing. It’s just a line that cuts through the bullshit and makes a good point.  

Marissa keeps going, insulting all of her peers and teachers, and Lucca figures out how to cut through that, too: she tells Marissa that she’d hire her as a lawyer if she killed someone, but only if Marissa passes the bar. Marissa is instantly intrigued.  

“Why are you leaving here? I’ll miss you,” Marissa says.  

“Because they won’t pay me what I deserve,” Lucca says in a matter-of-fact tone. “Anyway, I thought they fired you.”  

“But they didn’t mean it. It’s like the smoothie place—they kept trying to fire me and I just kept showing up,” Marissa replies. That checks out. (Love the callback!)  

Lucca tries to get Marissa to come over to England. Marissa shuts that down as Lucca gets a news alert—and it’s not good news.  

Our next date is September 18th, 2020 and I will get my nitpicks out of the way up front! I don’t really know why it is daytime for Lucca when she reads the news, considering it was already the evening in the States when the RBG news broke. And, also, it was Rosh Hashanah, so Marissa probably would not have been sitting in her bedroom studying... she most likely would’ve been with family or friends. OK I’M DONE. FOR NOW.  

Diane is getting ready for her arguments in front of the Supreme Court. It’s almost time! She’s in casual clothes but has on a wonderful mask. She’s standing in front of Kurt’s guns to make a point (love that she’s using her video call background to her advantage) and there are several people in her bedroom getting the tech all set up. I have noted before that they only built one set for Diane’s apartment, and it’s just a massive bedroom. Diane choosing to be in front of the guns does a nice job of cutting off my question about why she’d be arguing in front of the Supreme Court from her bedroom rather than the home office she absolutely would have.  

Kurt walks in and tries to shake hands... he’s clearly not very COVID paranoid, and Diane seems to be, and... that’s something I might have wanted to see? How was Diane okay with Kurt taking risks that also affected her?

Diane confirms she intentionally chose to stand in front of the guns. That’s when Kurt gets the push notification. He pulls Diane into the bathroom to show her the news. He hands her his phone and Diane’s face falls. She starts tearing up. “2020 just won’t let go,” she says, speaking for us all.

Normally I hate things that are like, we’re going to contrive this so the news hits at the worst possible moment! This works for me, because the Supreme Court plot for Diane feels more like something that exists to be a through line for the episode. It would also be a little hard to work in RBG’s death as a main plot point—and it is definitely important enough to be a main plotpoint—if it didn’t also affect something in the world of the show.  

Also, another reason I like this contrivance is that it makes it all the more powerful when Diane says, “It’s over. He gets to nominate someone. Another Kavanaugh! We’ll have a conservative court for the next 20 years. My whole fucking life!” She’s not thinking about how this affects her case (and that case is basically a life-long dream for her). She is thinking about way bigger things, and knowing that her mind goes to the bigger things before the personal with news like this really underlines how big of a deal RBG’s death was.  

Diane tells Kurt, “I don’t deserve you. You don’t agree with me.” “I can still feel bad for you,” he responds. He holds her while she cries.

Jay’s hallucination thing is back. Now Karl Marx is here. So is Jesus. I’m so done with this. It’s nice to get a break from writing.

Malcolm X is also on the roundtable and now they’re talking over each other in that way that everyone on this show always does. (RK gave an interview about Evil where he said he likes having the children on that show talk over each other because he grew up in a household like that. I did not need to read that interview to understand that RK likes scenes where people talk over each other.)  

If anything happened in those hallucinations, I missed it, because I didn’t pause the episode. Because I do not care about the hallucinations. Because I hate them.

Now it’s November 2020... Diane’s watching election results and rocking back and forth. She tells Kurt he can go watch Fox News in the other room (so they do have more than one room!). He says he’s fine—he thinks Diane needs it more.  

“Yes, but Kurt, if you stay, I know this isn’t sensible, but... Trump seems to get more votes whenever you’re sitting on this couch,” Diane tells him. Ha, I relate to this kind of superstition so hard. “Are you serious?” Kurt says. “I am so deathly serious,” Diane responds. “Whenever you’re sitting here, Arizona goes for Trump. Humor me, please. Just go in the other room.”  

When Kurt tries to kiss her, she pulls away: “No, no, no. No kiss. If you kiss me, we’ll lose Georgia.” This scene feels so, so real and perfectly captures what it was like (at least for me, though I don’t have a Republican husband or anything) watching election results come in.  

“Uh, if you lose, we’ll be fine, right?” Kurt asks. “Kurt, let me just say this. I’m only saying that we won’t be fine so that the universe will grant me a win,” Diane responds. This scene is so fun and so good! It simultaneously captures a relatable mood, adds some levity, gives us a window into Diane’s life, and shows some of the tensions in her marriage?! I want this all the time!  

Kurt leaves the room. Diane pours more wine.

Later, with Diane still rocking back and forth with anxiety (just you wait for the several more days this will drag on!), Kurt brings in the champagne. “That was for when Hillary won. I can only drink it if Biden wins,” Diane protests. Did I also refuse to drink any celebratory alcohol until things were absolutely certain? No comment.  

“It’s odd you progressives resisted religion. You seem to have a hundred religions to take its place,” Kurt says, speaking on behalf of the writers’ room. (This joke doesn’t get written if the writers don’t believe this and probably even see it in themselves.)  

“Go away, Trump. I mean Kurt,” she shoos him away. Have I mentioned yet I love this scene?  

“Love me even if you lose?” he jokes (though I do wonder if this isn’t that joking? I think it is, but he keeps saying it!) as Diane gestures at him to get out.  

I could do without the joke about Diane’s heart on the TV for a couple reasons. One, it goes on too long. Two, I was very worried something would actually happen to Diane. You’d think that would make the scene feel more tense, but it does not, because it takes me out of the moment.

“Ok, God. You know I don’t believe in you. But I will believe in you if Joe Biden wins. I’m sorry. I know that that’s not what Jesus taught. There’s nothing in the New Testament that says, ‘Believe in me, and I’ll make sure your candidate wins,’ but I need Joe Biden to win. I’m sorry, God, but I just do. I need some faith.” This is a little much but... yeah. Also, is this the first time Diane’s flat out said she’s an atheist? I think it is, though I’ve assumed as much for quite a while.  

The next day in court, masks are no longer required if you’re a series regular and votes are still being counted. I remember those days. Marissa thought Diane was checking in on Jay... Diane was not. She was checking on vote counts.  

Apparently Jay’s finally being released from the hospital!

Bad news for Julius—the idiot judge finds him guilty of some nonsense charge and sentences him to seven years in prison.  

Diane says not to worry, and Julius asks “Why not?” Good point.

Then we have election results! We skip, specifically, to December 14th and the electoral college vote. I’m a little sad we skipped over the huge party that was November 7th, but I get why they’d rather keep things moving along. I think showing November 7th in an uncomplicated way would’ve just been too close to fanservice. But, man, what a day.  

Diane, in a red hoodie with leopard print that she somehow manages to still look classy in, is ready to pop champagne. Then she hears that on January 6th, a joint session of Congress will count the electoral votes and there might be a debate. “Nope. If I open it now, something bad will happen,” she reasons. “I’ve waited four years. I can wait another few weeks.”

It’s been almost a year and they’re still somehow negotiating with Lucca, but I understand why they’d space this out across the episode. Otherwise we’d have to say goodbye to Lucca in the first like, 15 mins of the episode and all those scenes would be in a row. I can forgive (and still nitpick) choices like this when the reasoning behind them seems sound.  

Adrian says they don’t want to lose Lucca. He, Liz, and Diane are all in the conference room, and they ask Lucca for a yes or no on their latest offer by the end of the call. Diane offers Lucca partner—she'll be the youngest partner in the firm’s history—and she’ll get a $500,000/year salary. Adrian tries to sell her on being part of American history by being part of the firm.

“We are a black firm, Lucca, and we need you,” Liz says with a lot of passion for someone who knows she might very well partner with Diane. Diane looks at Liz with a bit of suspicion at this, wondering if Liz is showing her cards.  

Lucca manages to make the wifi malfunction (or she gets very lucky) and uses the disconnection to call Bianca for a counteroffer, even though they said they needed a yes or no on the spot.  

“They used George Floyd because they want you for less. They have never appreciated you as much as I do. All those scars, all that time being taken for granted and undervalued has made you a fighter. It’s made you someone I now want,” Bianca tells Lucca. She gives Lucca a counter offer of $1.3 million and the title of CFO. Lucca takes it. Is there really another choice? (If she were concerned about loyalty to the firm and the partnership was what she wanted, she probably would've just taken it.)  

(Also, the partners can’t really act like Lucca is making history by being the youngest partner ever when they passed her over for partner two years earlier and offered it to Maia! To MAIA! Who had like three years of work experience! And yes I was fine with Alicia and Cary getting partnership offers with four years but, one, that was a scam, and two, Alicia and Cary actually worked. Oh, I see I still hate Maia with a passion. Back to THIS season...)

Lucca apologetically informs Marissa she’s leaving and the offer was just too good to turn down. I believe it. I also believe Lucca wants that job more. What has loyalty to RBL gotten her? She's someone so talented and good at her job that she just gets job offers from acquaintances all the time (starting with Alicia!). RBL appreciates her, but just enough to appease her while still undervaluing her. I don’t know that I would’ve believed a plot where Lucca actively job hunts, but I definitely believe this.

“Marissa, we don’t have to work together to be friends,” Lucca tells Marissa. I’m going to miss this so much. Why is this the best material Lucca’s gotten in ages?! I think one of the things that makes Lucca such a great character is that you can see why everyone instantly wants her on their team. She’s a fantastic friend (without giving too much of herself), she’s not a pushover, and she is incredibly sharp and able to get to the heart of any situation. I love her and I’m sad we won’t get to see more of her.  

(On that bit about friendship—I can’t write about Lucca’s departure without writing about the moment I realized just how great of a character Lucca was. It was in 7x13, when Alicia has her breakdown that’s seven seasons in the making... and Lucca supports her. But the writing, and Cush’s performance, never make it feel like Lucca exists to be a part of Alicia’s story. Lucca seems like her own fully formed person who happens to be supporting Alicia at this moment. I don’t think I can overstate how tough of a task it is to get me to care about the other person in a pivotal Alicia scene, especially when that other person was added to the cast in the final season and many suspected she’d just be a replacement for a different beloved character! Anyway, Lucca’s been great for years, and I’ll miss her.)  

Just when I thought I couldn’t hate the hallucinations more, we get a hint that they are going to continue: Jay sees one right after he learns that Marissa’s used her quarantine to start law school and he’s done nothing.  

Jay says he carries a gun now and it’s “performative.” I have no idea what that means and Marissa and Lucca don’t seem to, either.  

Another thing I like about Lucca’s final scene is that it isn’t rushed. We have time for all that, and also for Lucca to tell Marissa about the time she stole her breakfast sandwich, and for Marissa to react to it, and for Marissa to find Lucca’s Birkin bag, and for Lucca to tell Marissa to keep it, and for Marissa to react to that, and for Lucca to sappily say “think of me when you use it,” and for Marissa to nonsensically reply, “you think of me when I use it,” and there’s still a little bit more of the scene after that!  

Marissa’s silly line makes Lucca tear up. “God, I’m gonna miss you guys,” she says. “I’m gonna miss this. You make me smile. I didn’t smile much before you guys.” Awwwwwww. This is also so true to character! Her friendship with Alicia aside, Lucca’s definitely said before she’s not one to have friends (which is hilarious because she is, as I've said like 100 times, a fantastic friend and also just like, the coolest person??? Who wouldn’t want to be HER friend?!).  

She says she has to go because she’s getting too emotional and says goodbye. She’s also super sappy and when Marissa says, “you were the best,” she responds that they were the best TOGETHER! Awwwwwww.  

What a nice, fitting goodbye for Lucca. There’s no bad blood or fireworks—she just makes a change like a lot of people do. I’d like to think she’ll still be friends with Marissa and Jay after this. I don’t want too many Lucca references in future episodes, but I would really like it if we see Marissa and Jay update each other on the latest from Lucca, or if a scene begins with Marissa closing out an Instagram post from Lucca of her kid, or something. I wouldn’t want clues about what Lucca’s up to, but I’d love to see that she’s still a part of Marissa and Jay’s lives.

Now it is January 6th. Liz, Adrian, and Diane sit on the floor of the mostly empty office, watching TV coverage and drinking. It’s so relaxed it’s almost surreal, and it, like many other moments in this episode, feels like a slice of life. Everyone’s dressed casually and no one is worried about appearances or looking like the boss.  

“God, have you ever seen anything like it. It’s so fucked,” Diane says. Adrian’s more optimistic—the courts rejected most of the challenges to election results! “System worked,” he says. “Yay.” Liz says in response. She’s not as optimistic as he is.  

“Liz. Liz. Sometimes when things work out, there is no parade. There’s no congratulations, but I’ll tell you this: We live to fight another day,” he explains to her even though she makes a good point that a system just barely hanging on doesn’t bode well for the future. (She doesn’t say all this, but that’s a very loaded, “Yay.”)  

“Yeah? Then why are you leaving the law?” Liz asks. Diane seconds to the question.

Adrian announces he’s still retiring—and he’s moving to Atlanta. He wants to go to the south to help “create and consolidate political power.” He’s excited to start over and inspired by Georgia going blue. This is a very nice exit for Adrian. I fully believe that he’s interested in political organizing, that he’d be good at it, and that he’s ready for a change. I don’t think he’s always the most progressive person (of the three in this scene, Liz is absolutely the most progressive one, though Diane probably thinks she is!), but I absolutely think he thinks of himself as an activist and I believe that if he’s going to step away from the law, he’d do so to make a move like this.  

Adrian—and Lucca, but especially Adrian—probably both got better exits thanks to the events of 2020. If Adrian had just left to be groomed by the DNC, that would’ve been a predictable and boring ending for him. His candidacy would, obviously, go nowhere, and the whole thing felt weird from the minute it was introduced. But this? Adrian being energized—like so many others were—by the ways the world changed in 2020 and using his already announced departure from the firm and recent breakup as a chance to start over and make change? This is great!  

Adrian asks Liz and Diane what’s next for them. Liz says that she thinks the Biden admin will be better for black businesses. Adrian asks if they’re replacing him, and Diane says, “I think the big question is, are you replacing me?” She’s smart. I like how this scene goes from friendly to tense very fast, with everyone kind of testing the waters. Adrian tries to force the conversation, Liz opens with something vague yet pointed, and Diane speaks what’s previously been unspoken.

Liz says it’s not her intention to push Diane out. “I can’t change the color of my skin,” Diane replies. “I know,” Liz laughs. Audra’s delivery is fantastic on that line.  

“Hey, I’m gonna fight for my partnership,” Diane says. “I know,” Liz says. The tone of this scene is so different from previous partnership drama on these shows and I’m excited about it. This is just a bunch of adults talking about business decisions with each other and treating each other as equals?? It's not backstabbing?? Or drama?? No one is hiding things?? It’s refreshing and I hope this plot stays like this. We’ve done so much partnership drama that I think drama that stems from a real, pressing question that has no easy answers and isn’t anyone’s fault is going to be much more fruitful for the show.  

Adrian heads out—ah, I see now this scene is set in his empty office and this is why they are on the floor—and gets a nice last moment with Diane. And then they give him a last moment with Liz, which I knew they would but was still glad to see.  

Liz asks if he knows what he’s doing—he says he’s not sure.

Adrian asks if Liz knows where she stands regarding Diane. “It’s going to be interesting,” Liz says. I don’t think she’s decided what she’s going to do yet.

It wouldn’t be an Adrian and Liz scene if Adrian didn’t have some unsolicited advice. “Diane’s a terrific lawyer, but this firm belongs to you.  Your dad built it. He did, Liz. Despite all his faults. You got to run this place the way you want. This is a black firm. And after today, the world needs black firms. You got me?” He tells Liz. He makes it seem like Liz gets the choice and then tells her what to do. She says, “I got it,” signaling she understood him but not that she necessarily agrees.  

I cannot wait to see what Liz does next!!!!!!! About this but just in general!!!!! Without Adrian there giving her constant advice I feel like she can grow so much and the show will have to give her more to do!!! I think Adrian, for all his many wonderful qualities and all he brought to the show, can suck all the air out of a room with his charisma, and Liz usually ends up suffering as a result. She’s such a capable lawyer in her own right, but Adrian has a way of making it always seem like he’s right—even in arguments she wins. I’m excited to see Liz lead (or stumble at leadership; she is fairly new to management) without Adrian’s direct influence.  

Liz walks Adrian out and it’s cute. They run into Marissa and Jay. “Everybody fun is leaving,” Marissa notes. Liz is minorly offended, but playfully. Heh.

Adrian asks Jay how he’s doing; Jay says he’s a long-hauler but he’s doing okay. I like that they included that moment in Adrian’s goodbye sequence. It’s a very little thing, but it underlines that Adrian cares about Jay.  

Then Liz interrupts to note that Trump pardoned a lot of convicted and corrupt Republican officials....... including Julius.  

Everyone celebrates, but especially Diane and Marissa. Diane lets out her wonderful laugh and then we, finally, get to the credits. Because now that the previouslies are over, it’s time for the real show.

The credits are absolutely delightful, btw. I was a little worried some of the kittens would blow up, though! Once I relaxed and realized what they were up to—literal puppies and kittens because Biden won—I couldn’t get enough of these credits. They work so well because they accurately capture the way I (and all of these characters, except maybe Julius and Kurt) feel about the election results, but it’s so exaggerated that you know the kittens and puppies aren’t a realistic representation of our new reality. They’re just too good to be true, but you may as well enjoy them for a minute. I’m sure we’ll be back to exploding vases next week.

What a great episode! My timeline nitpicks and whatever they’re trying to do with Jay aside, I was blown away by how well the writers managed to move on from season 4, tie up loose ends, and write out two main characters. And they did it all while making me revisit the events of 2020, a year I don’t think many of us want to spend much time thinking about! This episode was enjoyable, fun, emotional, and clever. I don’t know what to expect from the rest of the season, but I’m definitely excited about the show in a way I haven’t really been in quite some time.  

This season’s naming convention seems to be titles that end with ... and only have the first word capitalized. I want to see more. 

Season FIVE? There have already been as many TGF seasons as there were TGW seasons prior to Hitting the Fan?! Time flies. 

Please writers: No topical episodes this year-- no pee tape, no Melania divorce, no Epstein. None of that business. 

Sorry if I repeated myself here. I never proofread these things, and I wrote half of this on Saturday and half of it today (Wednesday) and the days in between were an absolute blur so I cannot remember if I said the same things about this episode twice. 

#the good fight #tgfthoughts

[cakejots]

this is us trying, Chapter 6 - The Pounce

In this AU, they don’t know each other outside of the suit. And in this AU, Ladybug and Chat Noir love each other. But in this AU, Chat doesn’t want their identities revealed.

Written for @ladynoirjuly 2021

notes: this is a coherent story based on all the prompts; each chapter contains at least 3 prompts. this chapter has 4 prompts

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10

Read on AO3

17. Secrets

Marinette was sure she didn’t have any alarm set for the day. And even if she did, it wouldn’t be this early in the morning. Her video call with Adrien the night before lasted well over a few hours, and it was the second day in a row where she wasn’t sleeping her usual routine. Though tired, she really can’t find herself regretting her actions. She was sure Adrien felt the same, he didn’t want the video call to end so soon and always managed to find something new to chat about.

She thought she could ignore the constant buzzing of her phone, but she’s only clowning herself if she believes that. Marinette tried to use her pillow to cover her head to block out the noise, but to no avail. She tried again with her thick blanket but eventually gave up. She was too disturbed to go back to sleep now anyway. With a grunt, she lifted herself off of her comfy bed and grabbed her phone from the shelves above her.

She eyed the screen and saw the time, as well as the caller.

Alya.

“What?”

“Woah, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

“Care to check how many times you’ve called me?” Marinette pinched the bridge of her nose. “You know I hate it when my sleep gets interrupted.”

“I’m really sorry Marinette, but this can’t be put off any longer. Why didn’t you tell me? Are there any more secrets you’re hiding from me?”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

Her phone gave off a chime, and it was a link Alya had just shared. “Access that link.”

Marinette grew wary as she saw the first few words of the link. The name of the biggest gossip magazine was etched within it.

“Uhh, Alya, what’s this? You know I hate reading things from gossip magazines.” She’s pissed that she was woken up for this useless bullshit.

“I know I know, just click it please, it concerns you.” Alya pleaded.

Marinette paused. “Me?”

Her mind imagined the worst-case scenario. Was her secret identity compromised? She didn’t manage to read the rest of the link as she quickly clicked on the link.

The first thing she saw when the site loaded was a video embedded at the top of the page, and the thumbnail of the video was of her and Adrien throwing affectionate gazes at each other, with Adrien’s hand buried deep within her hair. Fear shot through her entire being. When was this?

She further inspected the thumbnail and saw that she was in pyjamas. It was the night they revealed themselves, they had just exited the park and were ready to head home.

“Oh.”

Fuck.

“Marinette? Did you manage to read the article?”

She couldn’t take it anymore, she hastily closed the tab. “No, but I see myself and Adrien on the video thumbnail. Shit...” She admitted, not bothering to hide since Alya already saw it.

“Are you okay?”

“What did the article say?” She whispered.

“They were speculating if you’re Adrien’s new fling— ”

“The fuck?”

“—or romantic partner, but they don’t know who you are, so you’re safe.”

“But he’s not! I need to make sure he’s okay.” She was jumping out of her bed when Alya’s voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Marinette, I think that might be a problem. Herds of reporters are situated outside the Agreste mansion.”

She felt a vein pop in her temple. “Are you there?”

“What? No! The clip is rolling live on TV.”

She switched on her TV and sure enough, the mansion was surrounded by reporters.

“Adrien...” Blood drained from her face as she looked at the sheer number of reporters outside his house. Her vision started to blur. He was no doubt going to blame himself for this again.

“Marinette?”

“A-Alya, I’m sorry, I need some time alone. T-Thank you for telling me,” she stammered.

“Don’t sweat it. And I’m sure you have reasons for keeping your secrets, I won’t pester you now, but I hope to get an update on the both of you once this is over. And please promise me you’ll tell me about it later.”

Comfort flooded her chest, “Of course, Alya. Thank you so much.”

Marinette hung up and was left alone with her own thoughts.

Thinking back, Adrien was acting slightly weird after they got onto the streets. He had asked her to transform out of nowhere. Was that when he had realised they were being followed? Why didn’t he tell her? Marinette browsed her messages and calls, there was nothing she missed from Adrien.

Why was he pushing her away again? Even after the reveal. Why isn’t he opening up to her?

She wiped her tears. This is no time to be questioning his decisions. She needed to save her kitty as soon as possible. He must be feeling devastated dealing with this all alone.

18. Can’t Transform

Adrien was curled up by the side of his bed, his phone all blown up with notifications, calls, and messages from gossip news agencies and the public. It was till the point that he had to reconfigure his “Do Not Disturb” function to stop all the ringing and buzzing that wrecked his phone. He was so overwhelmed that he disabled everything.

His phone was currently by his side, his chat with Marinette on the display. Marinette was online earlier on, and he was happy to see that, but she was gone as soon as she came. Adrien really wanted to ask her for help, but he was sure that she’s pissed with him right now. He didn’t have the right to ask since he brought this upon himself. He just hoped she forgave him for allowing her face to appear on the news.

Marinette (09:01): chaton?

A chime brought his attention back to the phone. Adrien saw her message, but he just stared.

Marinette (09:01): chaton i can see you online

Adrien (09:02): hi

Marinette (09:02): can you call me?

Marinette (09:02): my calls can't seem to get through

Adrien (09:03): i muted everything

Marinette (09:03): oh

Marinette (09:03): then can chat call me?

Adrien (09:03): i can't transform

Adrien (09:04): i don't want to risk them seeing the transformation

Marinette saw that he typed and stopped a few times. She’d be patient with him, he’s allowed to take as long as he needed.

Adrien (09:06): i'll call

Adrien (09:06): but can you give me a while?

Marinette (09:06): of course :)

Perhaps it was her staring at her screen, knowing that Adrien was there. Perhaps she was solely focused on seeing something happen on her screen. Or perhaps she managed to will Adrien into calling her, because he eventually did. And it didn’t feel like it had been 10 minutes.

“Adrien!”

The line had gone quiet. So quiet that she was about to remove her phone from her ear to check if the call had ended when a voice spoke through the speakers.

“Hey, Marinette.”

He sounded apprehensive. Was she coming off too strong?

“How are you feeling?” Her voice gentler this time.

He still took a while, but it was definitely faster than the one before.

“Overwhelmed.”

“Okay, okay. Are you okay with waiting a while more?”

Is Marinette coming to get him?

“I guess.”

“Nice. Do you think you can transform after the herd of reporters is gone?”

“I think so.”

“Very good. Would you be comfortable with sleeping in my house for a few days?”

Adrien wasn’t sure if he wanted to stay with Marinette after all this was over. What if she interrogated him? Was he ready to tell her why he did what he did? The whole truth? What if she leaves? Or rather, kick him out after she learnt the truth. He didn’t want that. Enough people had already left him. He doesn’t want any more of that. They can’t leave if he wasn’t there in the first place.

But Adrien wanted to be with Marinette. Even more so after what his actions had led to. He may be selfish right now, but he wanted the affirmation that she’d still have him, even after he messed up. He didn’t want to be alone after this ordeal. She has proved repeatedly that she wouldn’t abandon him. And right now, she’s inviting him into her life, willingly.

Justifiably, Marinette is in no wrong here, but Adrien found himself finally believing what she had promised. It might be that words of assurance could only go so far for him. But certainly, it was her actions that solidified his belief in her.

“Mhm.” He sniffled.

“Awesome!”

Adrien wanted to explain. He wanted her to know how much this meant to him.

“My lady, I… I—”

“It’s okay, Chaton. Your safety and wellbeing take precedence.”

“W-Wait! Are you going to hang up?”

19. Trust

“Do you trust me?”

“Always,” he answered so effortlessly.

“Then yes, I’m going to hang up. But I guarantee you that you’ll see me soon enough,” Marinette assured. “Would that be okay?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Thank you, Chaton. Wait for me.”

They said their goodbyes, and Marinette waited for a while before she hung up. She got to her feet and went to work straight away.

.

“What is he doing in there? Can’t he see us? Just come out already!” One of the reporters threw his papers on the ground, getting agitated from standing outside the Agreste mansion for at least 2 hours. “This is taking far too long!”

“Hey! Look!”

He noticed someone pointing upwards and he lifted his eyes.

Soon, the herd of reporters directed their collective attention and cameras to the top of the mansion. They were so determined on getting any footage they could on the occupant of the building that all but one of them failed to realise that Ladybug and Chat Noir had appeared on the rooftop, with Chat Noir piggybacking their target.

“What is this?” Ladybug shouted at the crowd beneath her feet. “Is this any way to treat Paris’ Golden Boy? His love life is none of your concern!”

And with that, she jumped away from the persistent sound of cameras clicking coming from the crowd. Chat Noir followed without missing a bit, with Adrien hugging him tightly.

When Ladybug and Chat Noir had disappeared out of their sight, the media quickly got onto their vans and chased them down.

As the commotion was happening, Marinette texted Adrien to ask for the directions to access his room.

Adrien (09:32): the windows to my room are open. you'll see it once you get to the back of the mansion

She made sure the crowd had dissipated entirely before emerging from her hiding spot from the surrounding rooftops; she then made her way towards the mansion.

Sure enough, she found herself swinging into his room within seconds.

Adrien’s room was one of the biggest rooms she has ever seen in her life when she landed. It was at least twice the size of her previous bedroom, so big and spacious with various game areas across the first floor and a large library of books and CDs on the second.

She was still admiring his expansive room when she heard tiny sniffles coming from the side of the bed.

Snapping her head towards the bed, she spotted Adrien hugging his knees, head buried within his arms. “Adrien.”

Adrien lifted his head and saw her watching him.

He stood and wiped his tears, trying to smile. Turned out, wishing she was by his side was one thing. Having her actually be here with him was an entirely different thing.

Lady Rouge? Rena Bug? Marinette did not look happy. She was biting her lower lips before she started walking towards him.

Adrien began moving backwards bit by bit, anxious about her reactions towards him.

“Tikki, Trixx, Separation.”

Was that disappointment in her eyes? He didn’t know. Ladybug was quickly catching up to him and when he saw that she had raised her hand, he shut his eyes.

He was expecting some reproaching from her. He was expecting some pounding on his chest, or even a slap to his face. But all he felt was a hand wrapped around his head, settling itself within his hair and pulling him into a hug.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she breathed.

Adrien opened his eyes in startlement, before relaxing into her. Ladybug’s other hand was on his back, pressing him into her. And he circled his arms around her waist, returning the gesture.

“My lady, I’m covered in snot and tears right now.”

“Yeah, you’re disgusting.” But she pulled him in even more and tightened her hold on him nonetheless.

20. Save Me

Adrien wished he could’ve stayed in Ladybug’s embrace longer, she was so full of warmth and love, unlike the mansion. But he needed to pack his clothes for his impromptu stay at Marinette’s over the next few days, to avoid the scandal they were currently in.

Ladybug was exploring his huge room, but he couldn’t see her from the bathroom, so he assumed she was checking out his vast collection of books and CDs on the second floor.

He didn’t like how quiet it had gotten.

“My lady?”

Within seconds, Ladybug dropped from right in front of the bathroom door, face worried. “Adrien?”

“Could you… um, could you stay on the first floor?” He squeaked.

She relaxed and chuckled. “Of course, mon Chaton.” She looked around a bit. “I’ll just take a look around the arcade stations.”

He nodded before continuing his packing. It was quiet again, but at least he knew she was exploring on the first floor.

“Adrien?” He lifted his gaze from his bag and saw Ladybug standing beside his bed, pointing at it. “Can I sit on it?”

“Of course! Go ahead! I don’t see why not.” Surprise laced in his voice by her question.

“Just wanted to make sure,” she replied cheekily before she bounced on his bed.

Adrien was about done with his packing, but he didn’t want Ladybug to be bored.

“My lady, what happened to those illusions?”

Ladybug widened her eyes. “I was sure that the media would follow those illusions, so I had them travel to the outskirts of Paris before making them disappear right before their very eyes.” She then scratched the back of her head and smiled sheepishly. “That was the plan. But uh, the illusions should be gone as soon as I reverted to just being Ladybug.”

Adrien had finished packing and was walking out of the bathroom, bag in his hand. “So, they might be back?”

Ladybug immediately stood and walked to his windows. “I don’t see or hear any crowd outside. So I guess they are still trying to figure out where those illusions went.”

Adrien came up to her, Trixx and Plagg in his hands. “Then, for extra precaution, why not use Trixx’s power again to conceal ourselves?”

Ladybug’s eyes shone with understanding. “That’s a great idea! I didn’t think of that!”

When Ladybug called for her unification, her outfit was similar to Rena Rouge’s. Her dark hair was tied up in a thick ponytail with the ends highlighted in white. A tail was also added to her suit. “Come on, let’s go!”

But Adrien hadn't called for his transformation, and she raised an eyebrow.

“Uhh— right!” Adrien blushed and quickly turned around to retrieve his bag from the side of his bed before calling for his transformation.

“Oh, I see,” a smug look on her pretty face. “You just wanted to see me in this.”

Chat Noir was still blushing when he returned to her side. “Can you blame me? You look amazing in this. Can’t I admire how stunning my girlfriend looks?”

It was her turn to flush. “You can, you absolutely can.” She turned away, ready to use her flute when Chat Noir grabbed her hand.

“In fact, you look beautiful all the time.” He gazed into her eyes. “Marinette, for the plan you concocted to save me, thank you.”

“Anything for you, Chaton.” She grinned.

Chat pulled her into a hug and squeezed. His hand was on the back of her head, pressing her into his neck. “Thank you, so so much.”

#ladynoirjuly2021 #ladynoirjuly #ladynoir #mesfics #miraculous ladybug #fanfic #mlb fanfic #ladybug #chat noir #alternate universe #light angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #this is us trying

[chandelier-s-notebook]

Chapter 8

Let me know if you wanna get tagged when I post new chapters in “These Streets Are Made For Walking”. @sleepysnails.

Ao3 Link

-------------------------

It’s the next Wednesday when the Foster Bitch climbed the stairs up to Techno’s room. Knocking on the doorframe twice, she entered without waiting for an answer.

“Tommy hasn’t been to school all week, and the school called about unexcused absences.” She frowned at him. “You share a room with him, and don’t you drive him to school? Where is he?”

Techno threw his earbuds on his bedside table. “No idea Ma’am. I haven’t seen him since you sent him to pick me up from the station last Thursday. He woke up early and took the bus. I figured he was mad at me and at Tubbo’s. Dream’s been suspended for the incident, so I couldn’t exactly ask him.”

“Don’t you have his number?” she asked in an accusatory tone.

“Yes. But you confiscated his phone two weeks ago.”

“Oh.” She seemed to be taken aback for a second. “Shouldn’t you have Dream’s?”

“That’s for work. Like I said, I thought Tommy was at Tubbo’s. I didn’t think anything was wrong.”

“Mr. Richmon is in the kitchen.”

Ranboo’s dad. “Oh fuck.” Techno rolled out of his bed. He honestly would rather stay on his phone, but she was clearly offloading this on him, and Techno was going to make sure Tommy still had friends. Going to Ranboo’s was the best dinner Tommy ever gets. He doesn’t eat that much when he’s over, because he’ll just vomit it up, but the leftovers he takes back last the two of them a good week. Tommy may not want to be a bother and use up their resources, but Techno knows that he thinks of those leftovers as paying Techno back for everything he does.

Techno rushed down the stairs, jumping two at a time. The old stairs creaked as his feet hit their tops, the planks bending under his weight. In a moment of hesitation Techno stopped suddenly, sliding a little on his socks. He took a moment to collect himself, before making his way into the kitchen.

“Mr. Richmon,” greeted the Foster Bitch appearing next to him. “This is Techno, he’s probably the closest person to your son as Tommy hasn’t been around lately.”

“We’ve crossed paths,” Techno said, straightening his tee-shirt collar.

“Parent teacher interviews, was it?” Mr. Richmon asked, sending a little glare to the Foster Bitch and offering Techno his hand.

His grip was firm, but Techno’s was comparable. “What brings you here?”

“I haven’t seen my son since Friday.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve been calling him in absent for a prolonged family issue, but I am well aware of the company he keeps.” Mr. Richmon kept his tone light, but the accusation is heard loud and clear as he pulls out a chair for himself.

Techno tips his head in understanding. “His friends aren’t that bad,” he defends. “But I understand your concern with Tubbo and Purpled’s brothers.”

Mr. Richmon gestures to Techno, “And Tommy’s.”

“I’m not Tommy’s brother. This is a group home. We aren’t related,” he dismissed immediately. “The other guys are blood though.”

Both the Foster Bitch and Mr. Richmon gave him weird looks at his comment.

Techno took them in stride. So what? He knows he’s lying to himself more than he’s trying to convince them. “I can ask Dream and Punz if they know anything,” Techno suggested. “I assume you don’t want to be seen with them?”

Mr. Richmon nodded. “Of course not. This place is dingy enough.”

The Foster Bitch looks affronted, but Techno shushed her with a look. “I’ll try to find your son, but might I recommend going to the police.”

“The less the police know the better,” Mr. Richmon said like it was a mantra of his.

Techno nodded, already trying to figure out how he was going to deal with this. He was the getaway driver who did his homework. Sure he knew a few things, but he didn’t have any street skills. He remembered the purple hoodie at the gas station; he might have wanted to stay oblivious, but he knew who he saw.

Techno and Mr. Richmon left the house at the same time. They got into their respective cars and they drove in opposite directions. Techno headed to Punz’s place--might as well check if they were there. Techno honestly doesn’t know why he had Punz’s key on his lanyard, but due to it he didn’t bother needing to knock.

“Techno’s here!” he shouted; can’t ever be too careful at the mercenary’s house. He doesn’t hear anything back, and since anyone who could possibly be here would shout back in greeting, he assumed that the place was empty. But it doesn’t hurt to check around.

The thing about Punz and his profession is that he had to keep tabs on his targets, and the way he practiced and kept his skills sharp was by keeping tabs on his close associates. Therefore, he normally knows when people plan to stop by.

Techno walked into the living room and found a sticky note on the family computer. “Initiation collateral. Alive,” he reads.

Techno moved the mouse and the screen opened up to an article on one of the dark web sites. “New Las Nevadas Member: Merc. Punz’s Baby Bro.” He quickly scrolled down to the cover photo: open white van doors with Purpled and Tommy grappling on the ground, Ranboo and Tubbo nowhere to be seen. “Shit.”

As he skims the article he pulls out his phone and calls Dream.

He picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Tommy’s for sure not sleeping at your place is he?” he asked, concern evident in his voice.

“For sure? Is everything okay?”

“No. Is Tommy there?” Techno pressed.

“No, and Tubbo hasn’t checked in with me for a while.”

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Techno lifted his shoulder, trapping the phone there so that both of his hands were free. He scrolled back up to see the picture again, confirmation that it was, in fact, real. He let out an unsteady breath, and shook out his hands.

“Why? What happened?” Dream’s voice picked up anxiously. “Did you hear something?”

“Yeah. So did Punz.” Techno took a deep breath. “Did he tell you anything?”

“I haven’t spoken to Punz in about a month,” Dream said.

“Mr. Richmon came by the home asking for his son.”

“The kids aren’t at Ranboo’s?” Dream asked, concern hardening his tone.

“Nope. Purpled’s on the news. The way that you’re on the news.”

The line was silent. “Fuck.” The sound of something breaking echoed down the line. “That’s. Bad.”

“Hope its ransom.”

There was a rustle on Dream’s end of the line, as if he was moving something. “Fuck. I’ll look into it. What did Purp get into?”

“Las Nevadas.”

“Fuck. Purpled. Why? What did Mr. Richmon say?”

“That Ranboo was missing and that he came to me because you and Punz live in too much of a shithole for him to visit.”

“I don’t live in a shithole!”

“This place is dingy enough, were his exact words.”

“Ouch.”

It’s been a week. Tubbo, Ranboo, and Tommy were thrown into the same room. It’s objectively a nice room, but a prison is still a prison no matter how lavish the cell. The beds were really comfortable, but it was barren besides them.

They don’t see Purpled again, instead Fundy Soot is the one to bring them their three meals a day. You’d think that one could never get sick of pizza, but eventually--especially with the mood so sour--there comes a breaking point.

“Did someone order a meat-lovers?” The door opens and Fundy is inside the room with three cardboard plates, two slices on each. “Your dinner is here.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Tommy said digging into his slices.

“No, I don’t think I will.” Fundy smiles vindictively. Sue him, he hates babysitting duty. “Who’s gonna shut me up? Your brother?” he asks, looking at Tubbo. “That little amateur couldn’t do anything. Petty thieving is the highest form of sin you know?” Fundy said like he was reciting something.

“Shut the fuck up,” Tommy repeated, noticing how Tubbo froze.

“You too? What’s your brother going to do? He’s just the fucking getaway driver. He can’t help you. Big Brother Techno Blade isn’t as strong as you think he is, little Tommy.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Tommy shouted. “Techno may be friends with Dream, but he’s not doing that shit.”

“Didn’t you pick him up from the station? You’re lying to yourself. You know that Techno is in with Dream.”

“No he’s not! And don’t you have something better to do with your time? College or some shit?”

Fundy chuckled humourlessly. “The faster you eat, the faster I’m out of your room.”

Tommy glared and shoved a whole slice into his mouth.

“No one’s coming to save you,” he taunted.

“Shut up.”

“Don’t speak with your mouth full. We sent the ransom video,” he said moving onwards. “Instead Mr. Richmon hired Techno and Dream for free. Seems Daddy doesn’t care about his son enough to save you immediately.”

That’s the point that Tubbo broke. Tubbo could take a verbal bashing; Tommy would be pissed if he attacked on his behalf; but Ranboo? Ranboo was the most innocent here and didn’t need familial jabs.

Tubbo lurched from his bed and swung at Fundy Soot, sending him down to the floor. “Where the fuck is your big brother? He fucking failed you if you had to get dragged in the life style to survive.” Tubbo punched Fundy again after he was down. “Where is he huh? At least my brother managed to keep me out of this shit.”

Tommy rushes over to pull Tubbo back. “Shh. Shh. We can’t afford this. He's top dog here.”

Fundy laid on the floor, arms out and protecting his face.

“We’re done eating,” Tommy growls. “Get out.”

Ranboo, thoroughly shaken, picks up the plates and puts them in Fundy’s hands, standing in between the two groups so Fundy couldn’t retaliate. If any of them needed to come out of this looking pretty it’s him: the rich boy.

#Technoblade #Dreamwastaken #TommyInnit #Tubbo #Ranboo #Fundy #These Streets Are Made For Walking

[1dcraftawards]

November Author of the Month...

Drumroll please.... our November Author of the Month is none other than the incredibly talented...

@all-things-fic ! 

Congratulations to a wonderful author, Liz! You can check out our interview with her below!

1.Did you start writing fanfiction for One Direction, or was there another fandom that you wrote fanfiction for before this?

I have one fic that I wrote for One Direction Fanfic Archive, that will never see the light of day. It was really awful, but everyone starts somewhere. I’ve shared it with two people on Tumblr and we just laughed about it.

I’ve also written a Niall Horan fic which has been flagged for how explicit it is, which is quite laughable as it’s tame in comparison to the Harry stuff (eek!)

2. How old were you when you started writing fanfiction?

I was a teenager when I first started writing fics. I don’t know if I would consider it “proper” fanfic though as it was riddled with cliches.

3. What’s been your favorite fic that you’ve written to work on so far?

For the longest time I was proud of the second part of Divorce Harry and specifically the second part. It just felt real to write. I can’t even explain what it is about that piece.

I think at the time it stemmed from an ask I received where I was asked if I was a parent - I’m not - but this someone said I portrayed aspects of a marriage and how children can tip the balance really well.

The sheer bitterness of two people in love and the juxtaposed feeling it brings was an interesting dynamic. Being bitter and in love? How? It happens. You love someone, but bloody hell don’t you hate at the same time.

And I think on the hand Quarantine Harry is the opposite side of the same coin. I love it because it’s so happy. When you’re smitten and basking. Your baby waking you up at 3am and meeting your husband on the landing with the freshly made bottle is a time to enjoy because you’re doing it together.

But soon enough the third child is sprawled out in your kingsize bed and their foot is pressed against your ribs and you're tired. This isn’t me saying the two stories are linked (I do get those theories quite a lot haha)

4. Do you prefer AU or OU?

Definitely more of an OU gal. I’m massively into writing things “realistically” because I think it’s so relatable and helps draw readers in more so. Especially if the writing uses and references visuals that readers are aware of.

5. What’s your favorite trope to write?

Would we call a long-term relationship / established relationship a trope? If so then this is my favourite. Writing characters who know how to push each other’s buttons, knowing what they can and can’t say to get the other going. Being able to write two people who can share as little as a glance and know what the other is feeling.

Sprinkle a bit of angst on the top for good measure.

That’s my kryptonite.

6. What’s your ideal space to write in?

I tend to write when I’m in bed quite a bit, usually really late at night and on my phone rather than my laptop. Often lying in the dark. Sometimes first thing in a morning.

7. How do you get motivation to write?

This one made me laugh considering I’m unable to finish a single piece of writing at the minute.

Pictures are quite inspiring. New images of Harry can usually start something in me. The images of him in the whacky joggers for example from set have inspired a scene in Quarantine Harry (who knows for which part just yet!).

8. Do you typically like to listen to music when you write? If so, what do you listen to?

Very rarely listen to anything when I write, I tend to like silence really. Sometimes this is so I can dictate into my phone.

9. Your dialogue is some of the best I’ve ever read on tumblr, how do you plan conversations in your fics?

Thank you for the compliment, it’s really nice to read that you think so highly of my dialogue. I don’t really plan them - conversations or my fics. I’m quite visual in how I write, so anything that you’ve read I’ve most likely had it play out in my mind and typed it as it’s moved. For dialogue I tend to speak out loud as I’m typing to try and get the pacing right for the conversation.

No, I don’t try to do a Manc accent… Just in case anyone is wondering haha!

10. What is your writing process like?

I write what I see and then hope it fits. Honestly it’s pretty chaotic. The only time I tend to plan is when I’ve got a lot of different scenes written and I need to know if they’re suitable for an update or what order to place them.

Then I read through them and think about the characters and how they would be a certain time and move the documents into another document. Then I close all the tabs and cry cause my motivation is nonexistent.

11. What’s been your favorite scene to write from Quarantine Harry?

One that hasn’t been shared haha! I’m joking (maybe).

From part one my favourite bit has to be the part where she makes up with him by taking him a cuppa and he gets a dig in about how she hasn’t brought any biscuits with her. Also the bit where he says “come an’ love me” meaning he wants to cuddle. I’m quite conscious I don’t really ever write soppy fics, so when I’m writing “fluffy” aspects they’re more so everyday affections. Like, you know someone is properly in love with you when they’re doing the washing up cause you’re busy, or they’re taking out the bins on bin day. That kinda thing.

From part two absolutely the entirety of the morning where she takes the pregnancy test. That was the part I had as clear as day and I worked backwards to the opening scene. I really loved the idea of Harry knowing his partner is pregnant before said partner knows. Him knowing his lovers body like the back of his hand so much so that he’s able to pick up on the smallest of things.  I knew I had to write it.

And how he casually suggested she took the test, by pressing a kiss into her back. His face finding that test and then being an insufferable sod and pleased with himself cause he’s in the know about the outcome before the MC.

12. Is there a schedule you follow in terms of when you write? Or are you more impulsive and just write where and when you can?

So impulsive it’s actually embarrassing. I cringe at myself. I know I’ve mentioned this loads but I really write what I see. So if I’m not seeing anything, I’m not writing. It’s quite frustrating.

13. What is one thing you wish you would’ve known before you started writing?

To not talk about your writing before you’ve finished it. I feel like I massively let people down when I post sneak peeks and then I can’t deliver because life gets on top of me!

14. What do you prefer writing, multi-chaptered fics or one shots?

One shots and then if they develop into something more that can be exciting!

15. What's your secret to portraying such a complex and interesting relationship between your main characters??

Personal trauma…… *tumbleweed at another one of my poorly thought out jokes*

I’m a bit stumped on how to answer this one. I think being well read(ish) helps you create complex characters and relationships, not saying that I am but I’ve read a fair few books. Life in general helps too, sometimes personal relationships. Just growing up. My fic when I was younger was nowhere near the type of things I’m writing now but I’ve got a couple (okay, more than a couple!) of years on myself since then.

I think just apply your own lived experiences and call upon emotions you may have felt through certain times that you’re writing should you have experience it.

Partly I also think so many of us are a little bit nosy. Sometimes we all kinda want to be the fly on the wall in the home of couples to see if everything is a rosy as it seems or as intimate. Or whether it is just raw passion with a couple of arguments thrown in for good measure.

16. What Harry era/mood/look/vibe/song/etc. do you get most inspired by?

What’s weird is my favourite era of Harry is 2014, but I wouldn’t want to write him like that. The current Harry is quite marvellous. I’ve never known anyone like him, he really is fine wine (the real album title…. ‘we’ll be a fine wine’)

If you’re asking what mood I like to see him in, it’s either when he's pensive and looks a touch pissed off with a crease to his brow or when you watch his joke his eyes before he’s even said it and he’s amused/pleased with himself.

His current look, mainly late 2019/2020 is quite something (hence the quarantine fics)

I tend not to get inspired by his songs but my two faves if I had to pick would be Woman and TBSL. I think they’re massive Scorpio energy and would make great premises for a one shot sometime!

I’m not sure if I even answered this how you wanted it answer but hopefully it was something haha!

17. Who or what inspired you to start writing?

I’ve always loved writing, I think it’s because I do a lot of it with my line of work. The person that gave me the push on this site was actually an account called @meetyourmouths. The lovely Iz is no longer on tumblr but she wrote a Harry piece that just made me think ‘fuck it’ and I posted Practicing. If you go to that piece the authors note makes mention to Iz.

I would also say @stylishmuser was one of the first people to reach out to me and be encouraging which has always stuck with me. Massive love for, P and still talk to her all these years on.

I’m now sat here thinking about listing all the lovely lovely people who have been so nice to me both in regards to writing and outside of it and I’m conscious I’m not mentioning them. The troubles of being a bit of a people pleaser. Hopefully those people know I love ‘em… You know?

18. Some readers are wary of leaving feedback because they're unsure how the writer will take it, how do you personally like to receive feedback? Do you want to be critiqued, or would you like to just know if they did or didn't enjoy what they've read?

First thing I’d say is please don’t ever think as readers you can’t be negative. Sure there is a way to present the feedback to the author cause writing can be quite personal, but everyone has room for growth.

Just come chat to me. Can be about anything and everything. A simple ‘loved the update’ to ‘this bit was rubbish’. I’m open to all feedback.

One thing to remember is there are a lot of writers out there so there is something for everybody. If a fic isn’t for you there are tons out there waiting for you to go and grab ‘em!

19. Is writing a hobby or do you have aspirations of writing professionally outside of fanfiction?

I used to think it was mainly more so a hobby, and I do still lean towards this. However, now I’m not so sure. My problem is I tend to have long spells of not being able to find balance in my ‘real life’ job and the extra-curricular stuff.

I’m dragging myself here but I don’t think my fics have much plot to them. I’m more so about writing the everyday life and I don’t think there is a market for that really (unless you have something explosive happen somewhere).

20. And finally, What's your purpose for writing? What do you hope to accomplish?

For a while I wanted to write Harry being insufferably British. I found it quite hard to find writings that I thought wrote him using Britsh-isms (is this even a thing?) and types of phrases that are common over this side of the pond. I wanted to put that out there for someone who may have once felt like me.

Mostly,  I just want to put pieces out that take people elsewhere, even if only for a couple of minutes. A lot of the world is a bleak place, if you find my little corner on tumblr and it makes you smile, that’s achieved something, hasn't it?

#author of the month #aom #November2020 #aomnovember2020

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 42 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Hello darlings! The saga continues… Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Pearl’s eye started to wander and Violet set out on a quest to truly prove herself.

This Chapter: Aiden struggles with envy, Adore learns something extremely disturbing about her girlfriend, and Violet makes a friend in the park.

***

“Oof!” Katya held the sweater she was knitting in front of her face, blocking the view of the TV. “Oh god, that scene gets me every time.”

“I can see why this is one of your favorites.” Violet smiled, her pencil paused on her sketchpad as she watched Nancy’s powertrip, The Craft a surprisingly good film.

They were sitting on the couch in Trixie, Katya and Pearl’s apartment, Katya sending Violet a text if she wanted to come down and watch a movie.

Violet had learned early on that Katya despised people who were on their phones while watching movies, but that crafts were allowed, which was probably also why Katya had asked her specifically since Max was out of town. Pearl, Kim and Shangela were all on the no movies list, while Trixie was apparently walking on ‘thin fucking ice’ as Katya herself had said.

“I was a witch once.” Katya smiled, going back to the pink sweater with purple clouds she was knitting, the size of it making it clear that it was for Trixie. “Who doesn’t like a side of blood magic?”

Violet smiled, shaking her head as she turned her attention halfway back to her sketch, her hand doodling flowers along the lapel of the jacket she was working on.

***

“Kiara?”

Aiden was having a perfectly good day until she came over.

It was a little after lunch, the cafeteria serving the chicken he liked. He’d been working on some sketches, fairly satisfied with his progress so far, the days going by so fast.

He was on track to have almost 10 different looks finished by the end of the day when they had to turn them in, and so he was certain that he’d be getting into the Spring collection.

He had been perfecting a sleeve, when his pleasant thoughts had been rudely interrupted by Violet’s voice, as she approached their station to talk to Kiara.

“Hi,” Violet was holding a black portfolio in her hands, her pink nails tapping on the black vinyl. She was wearing a pair of black high waisted pants, a belt cinching in her waist and a long sleeved silk top. “I was wondering if I could see what you were working on for the Spring prêt-à-porter collection?”

“Sure? Kiara looked surprised, but she still grabbed her own stack of sketches, Kiara one of the few designers that still preferred to do everything by hand. “Why?

“I heard that you’re doing a jacket,” Violet put her portfolio down, “and I’m thinking of doing a jacket, so I just want to make sure we’re not submitting the same thing.”

Of course Violet was thinking of submitting a jacket.

“Scared of the competition Chachki?” Aiden was about to reach for his own sketch, his centerpiece for his spring submissions a jacket as well.

“No?” Violet looked at Aiden, her big brown eyes unblinking. “Why would I be?”

Aiden was about to open his mouth to respond when he realized that there was no point, his hand falling down.

That girl was just so incredibly condescending, and he hated her for it.

“Here we go.” Kiara said, gesturing to her sketches, tapping on the 3 versions of the jacket that she was going to submit.

“Hmm.” Violet peered at them, nodding. “Good. We’re not doing the same at all.”

“I showed you mine. Are you gonna show me yours?” Kiara asked, and Violet giggled, pulling out her own sketches.

“Deal,” she said, flipping open the portfolio.

As curious as he was, Aiden decided not to look, burying his head in his own work, now more determined than ever to get that jacket spot.

***

“Babyyy, pay attention to meeee,” Adore whined, tugging on Pearl’s top, attempting to nuzzle into her neck as they were on the bed. Pearl had invited her over for dinner, but the second they’d finished Katya’s famous twice-baked potatoes and garlic chicken (and several bottles of wine), she’d pulled out her laptop and begun working on content for Galactica’s new website.

Adore had never seen Pearl work after hours before. She was slightly shocked to see her do any real work, to be honest, imagining her position at Galactica to be purely schmoozing with brand reps and taking high-profile selfies at fancy events.

“Sorry, I have to finish this shit tonight.” Pearl finished the last of her wine and pressed a quick kiss to Adore’s forehead before going back to her computer, her fingers flying over the keyboard, Pearl actually typing at a surprisingly impressive speed.

“But…” Adore knew she was being a brat, but really, what was Pearl’s rush to finish something this late anyway? Would anyone even be ready to receive it? “Please-”

“Dore,” Pearl sighed, actually looking down at her. “I need to turn it into the site designers before midnight tonight. I thought I’d have time at work, but there was an influencer emergency and you know how those bitches get.”

Adore didn’t, in fact, know how influencers got, the realization that she knew absolutely nothing about Pearl’s work slowly creeping over her.

“I tried asking for extra time, but Fame said no.” Pearl pressed space, her short nails clacking against the black keys of her Macbook. “And unfortunately, eating her pussy right now for a favor is out of the question.” Pearl huffed. “Believe me. I tried.”

“What?” Adore’s hand froze on Pearl’s waist. “You tried what?”

“Eating her pussy?”

Adore sat up, rocking the bed. “Pearl!”

“What? You know that me and Fame used to hook up. We’ve done it for years.” Pearl turned to her with a curious expression. “They didn’t tell you?” Pearl raised a brow. “Huh.” She bit her lip, going back to her laptop. “I thought for sure they would when they were all freaked out about us getting together.”

“They?” Adore asked, trying to keep her voice from getting shrill.  “Who is they?”

“Fame mostly” Pearl shrugged, “but I thought Bianca would have had something to say.”

“Wait, so...sorry.” Adore squeezed her eyes shut, trying to clear her mind before asking, “You and Fame used to hook up, and Bianca knew about it?”

“I assumed? I don’t know for sure, but why else would your sister hate me?” Pearl paused typing, a cheshire grin on her face. “I’m delightful.”

Adore could feel her heart pounding in her throat.

“And you… You were gonna...you were gonna cheat on me with her?”

“Cheat? Wha - No!” Pearl closed her laptop, putting it to the side before she turned to Adore, shaking her head. “I’m not cheating.”

“It sure as shit sounds like it.”

“We never talked about being exclusive? So I just figured…” Pearl shrugged, and Adore wanted to hit her. “You’re a really cool girl, and I thought you didn’t care about stuff like that.”

“Well…” Adore’s mind raced. She’d been so ready to get angry, throw an absolute fit, but Pearl calling her cool was having the effect of pouring aloe onto inflamed skin. “I mean...I guess that’s true, we never talked about it.”

“It’s 2014. Everyone who’s not an absolute square is open these days,” Pearl continued.

“Is that… I mean, so…” Adore swallowed hard. “So you want an open relationship?”

“I’m not running around town fucking everyone I meet, if that’s what you’re thinking. I just think like… We know how we feel about each other? So why worry about oppressive hetero-normative rules?” Pearl punctuated her question with a charming smile, and Adore could feel herself melting.

“Yeah, that...makes sense.”

“See, this is why you’re the fucking best.” Pearl closed her laptop and kissed Adore gently, cradling her head, and every last ounce of anger dissipated into thin air.

Well...anger at Pearl, anyway. She’d deal with Miss Goddamn Fame and her traitorous sister tomorrow.

“Don’t you need to work?” Adore asked, pressing into Pearl’s embrace.

“I’ll go in early tomorrow,” Pearl said, moving her lips to Adore’s neck.

Adore sighed happily, lavishing the attention, sure that being with Pearl was worth it.

***

Courtney had gotten to the office before 6 am to prepare for the Friday design meeting--organizing the nearly 400 sketches into categories, making scans and copies and mounting the originals on card stock, each one numbered for easy reference. In the end, she had a tabbed binder for each of the attendees with high-quality copies, just barely finishing by the time Miss Fame strolled in at 9:30.

They’d been at it for awhile now, and what had begun as an orderly review with everyone on the same page had devolved into chaos, tension high as people defended their opinions. She stood in the corner of the conference room, feet already aching in her 4-inch heels, trying to follow the rapid-fire conversation, Raja and Trixie bickering about pant length and Pearl tearing out the pages she didn’t like, tossing them to the floor.

“This skirt on 42 is nice, but it looks complicated. How much would it cost to manufacture it?” Pearl passed a sketch to Bendela, who was the head of the tailoring department.

Bendela examined it closely, before proclaiming, “At least $700.”

Pearl pulled it out of her hands, dropping it on the floor with the other rejects. “Bye!”

“Well, hey now…” Alyssa flipped to the same sketch in her own binder. “Maybe it wouldn’t work for the stores, but it’s still good. Could we save it for a potential runway look?”

Pearl rolled her eyes. “Sure, but that’s not what we’re doing today.”

“Why don’t we put it aside and give Jovan some notes for runway?” Trixie suggested.

“That’s literally what I just said,” Alyssa snapped.

“I know, I’m agreeing with you!” Trixie exclaimed, handing her a fresh Red Bull. “Here, have some more gogo juice.”

“I really like this top on 27, but it would have to be a bit shorter to work with the other separates,” Alaska drawled, and Raja nodded, jotting down a note on the corresponding page of her binder.

“Yes, it’s pretty. What do you think, Fame?” asked Raja.

“It would be pretty, if it wasn’t in this disgusting color,” Fame said.

“Non-disgusting color coming right up!” Trixie said cheerfully, scribbling a note on the page.

“Trixie, I do not appreciate your tone.”

“Sorry Miss. You want to see something great? Check out Maxwell’s suit options. Starting on 104. He really outdid himself this year.” Trixie let out a loud chef’s kiss.

“Awww, thanks coach!” Maxwell said.

Courtney shifted, stretching a little, and noticed that Miss Fame had finished her coffee. Relieved for an excuse to move, she slipped from the meeting, grabbing her coat on the way to the elevators. She got Fame’s usual order as quickly as possible, along with her preferred apple cinnamon muffin to have on stand-by in case her blood sugar was having its usual pre-lunch dip, and returned to the 25th floor, shocked at the face that greeted her in the lobby when the elevator doors opened.

“Adore?”

“Courtney! Thank god. This bitch wouldn’t let me into Fame’s office-” Adore gestured towards Roxy, irritated, who gave her an equally dirty look in return, “And I need to talk to her.”

“Well…” Courtney beeped her access card, shooting Roxy an apologetic smile and saying, “Thanks, I got it.”

Once inside, she tossed her coat over her chair and turned back to Adore, who was rattling the doorknob of Fame’s office like a crazy person, pounding on the door.

“Fame? Fame, open up!”

“Adore…” Courtney touched her lightly on the shoulder. “She’s not in there. She’s in a meeting, with like, the whole senior design and marketing teams right now, and-”

“Well, I need to talk to her, right away.” Adore was clearly agitated.

“Are you okay? Can I-”

“No! I’m obviously not okay! I need to talk to her, now-”

“Okay. You wanna wait here until they break for lunch?” Courtney asked. “I can’t really ask her to leave without-”

“No, I want to talk to her. If you don’t want to interrupt, I will. I don’t give a shit about her meeting.” Adore charged forward, and Courtney caught her by the shoulders.

“Wait! Okay, I’ll tell her you’re here and that it’s urgent. Please, just…”

Adore seemed to begrudgingly accept this plan, crossing her arms and sitting on the edge of Courtney’s desk. “Two minutes and then I’m coming in.”

Courtney took a deep breath and made her way towards the conference room, trying not to wring her hands on the way. She was worried for whatever was making Adore so upset, but she also couldn’t help but roll her eyes a little at her demanding attitude. It wasn’t something that reared its head terribly often, but when it did...hoo boy. Spoiled brat Adore was by far the worst version of Adore--petulant, entitled, unyielding. Courtney prayed that she would get through this tantrum without a scene.  

Courtney re-entered the conference room, handing Miss Fame her coffee and then turning to a fresh page in her notebook and scribbling out a note, trying to be as concise as possible.

Adore Delano here. Very upset. Needs to talk. Says it’s urgent.

She underlined “urgent” before showing it to her boss, hoping that she wouldn’t get scolded for her friend’s behavior.

Fame glanced at the note and then stood up, clearing her throat.

“I have to go attend to a family matter,” she announced, “but I’ll be back shortly.” She gestured vaguely to the empty chair beside her seat, indicating that Courtney should stay and take notes.

Courtney quickly sat down, pulling over Miss Fame’s binder.

***

When Miss Fame entered her office suite, Adore was there, pacing around. She looked physically fine, which was a relief, but Fame was still concerned, knowing that Adore wouldn’t come to her, not in the middle of the day like this, unless something terrible had happened.

“Hello darling, what on earth is going on-”

“Don’t fucking darling me!” Adore snapped, catching her off guard, and Fame took a deep breath, opening her door to her office and ushering Adore inside before firmly shutting it. For one thing, it would give them some privacy. And for another, it would make sure that no one passing by saw Adore’s messy hair and booty shorts.

“Is anybody hurt?”

“Fuck you!”

Fame sighed, locking the door. If she was going to screech like a maniac, they may as well have as much soundproofing as possible.

“Now, Adore-” Fame began, but Adore immediately interrupted.

“What the fuck do I have to do for y’all to stop treating me like a fucking child?!” Adore burst out, and Fame couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

“A child? Since I was at your 15th birthday, I don’t think that’s very fair-”

“Don’t change the subject!” Adore shouted, looking genuinely upset, her hand shaking.

“What is the subject, dearheart?” Fame took a step forward, but Adore stepped back. Fame could feel her panic rising, wondering if something was actually wrong with Bianca, if anyone had gotten hurt. “I think we missed a step here-”

“Pearl! Pearl, is the fucking subject!” Adore jabbed a finger against her chest, Fame looking down.

“Adore!” No one had done that to Fame since she was a child, the action incredibly upsetting and weird.

“Specifically,” Adore poked her, “you,” poke “fucking her.” Adore looked up, her eyes filled with anger. “Is that clear enough?”

“Oh.” Fame’s heart sank, the secret apparently out. The last thing she ever wanted was for Adore to get hurt, but here they were. “How did you…” Fame looked over her shoulder, making sure the door was locked, hoping that Courtney was still in the conference room.

“Look at me!”

“How did you find out about this-”

“Pearl told me!”

Fuck.

“She apparently thought that you’d told me already.”

“Good god.” Fame closed her eyes briefly, cursing herself for not being more explicit with Pearl back in September. “She really shouldn’t have done that.”

“She?!” Adore yelled. “Why didn’t you? Why do you all fucking tiptoe around, protect me like I’m a goddamn infant?!”

“Adore-”

“I’m 24 fucking years old! Half of your employees are younger than me, and I know for a fact that you don’t treat them like delicate little babies-”

“Please. Calm down, I don’t-” Fame held up her hands. “Please.”

“I’m not a child.”

“You want the truth? The grown-up truth?”

“Yes!”

“Me not telling you about my…” Fame made a vague gesture, “history with Pearl. That wasn’t to protect you. That was to protect myself.”

“What…” Adore looked momentarily thrown by this, her anger replaced with confusion, and Fame pulled her onto the sofa, taking the opportunity to grasp one of her hands.

“She’s my employee, Adore.” Fame rubbed her thumb over Adore’s hand, gently caressing it. “We may have had an understanding between us, but…” Fame sighed. “Nobody else would--could understand.”

“You mean like your husband?” Adore shot back, face twisting once more into anger. “I can’t believe you would cheat on him, that you would-”

“I would never ‘cheat’ on Patrick. He knows everything. You don’t need to worry about my marriage. But I mean that if my...Interests came out publicly, it would be very damaging to my professional reputation. That’s what I feared.”

“And you didn’t trust me?”

“I don’t trust anybody with things like this, Adore. So instead of telling you, I just...broke things off with her, and made sure she knew how much I love you. That I would be very angry if she mistreated you.”

Adore bit her lip, taking in what Fame had said, her blue eyes misty. “You went behind my back and told my girlfriend to be nice, or she’d be in trouble? Don’t you see how fucked up that is?”

“I’m sorry. It was a bad decision, but it wasn’t because I was trying to baby you. It was...it doesn’t matter. I can see now that I should have told you instead.”

“Yes. But…” Adore sighed. “I guess I understand why you didn’t.”

“I’m glad,” Fame said. “Thank you for that.”

She pulled Adore close, hugging her tightly, trying to show how sorry she was. When Bianca had taken custody of Adore nearly ten years earlier, Fame felt like she shared the responsibility to look out for her.

She knew, of course, that sometimes that meant that she was overprotective, and maybe even patronizing, but she couldn’t help it: Adore would always be a sweet baby to her, someone who had been through hell far too young, who deserved to be a bit spoiled and sheltered.

“There’s one more thing I need to know,” Adore said, still chewing on her lip.

“What is it?”

“Does my sister know?”

Fame took a deep breath, tucking a lock of Adore’s fading purple hair behind her ear. “She does. But she’s the only one. Besides Patrick. And now you. And she promised me, swore on her life, that she’d never tell.”

“Hmm.”

***

“We’ll get the results tomorrow, and it isn’t that I’m like, nervous nervous, I just hope I have done a good enough job-”

Sutan smiled as he listened to Violet chat, the fact that she was actually sharing her honest feelings about Galactica’s prêt-à-porter collection feeling like a big deal.

Sutan had asked Violet out for lunch since he was already in midtown for a meeting, the two of them now walking hand in hand around Central Park, Sutan drinking coffee while Violet was sipping on tea. The air was crisp, Autumn leaves covering the ground, the people of New York taking in the beautiful day.

“Sutan!” Sutan felt a pull on his hand, Violet stopping dead in her tracks. “Sutan, look!”

He turned his head, not even registering what was happening before Violet had shoved her tea and bag into his arms, letting go of him to make a beeline towards a couple that were walking a small dog.

“Excuse me-” Violet cleared her throat, catching the couple’s attention. “Can I pet your dog? Please?”

“Of course!”

The couple smiled, and Sutan watched as Violet crouched down on the ground, quickly taking off her gloves and handing them to Sutan so the pug could sniff her fingers.

“Hey there, hello gorgeous, hi,” Violet smiled, her hand soon running over the puppy’s head, scratching it behind the ears. “That’s it, that’s a good boy.”

Sutan tilted his head. He had never seen Violet interact with a pet before, and somehow, he had assumed that she would be either a pet hater or a cat person, but she looked genuinely happy, and completely in love with the dog.

“What’s his name?”

“Dough. It’s his first trip to Central Park, he’s been looking forward to it all week.”

“Really?” Violet looked up, her smile never wavering as she chatted with the couple about the dog. “Oh Sutan, look how cute he is.”

“He’s very-”

“Who’s a good boy?” Violet grinned, cutting off Sutan as she scratched the pug’s chin. “Who’s a good boy?”

Sutan took a sip of his coffee, hiding a grin as Violet’s bag dug into the crock of his elbow. He had never seen Violet so willingly talk to strangers, had never seen her be so overly excited about anything that wasn’t related to fashion. He took another sip, pocketing Violet’s gloves as he watched her play with the dog, a sense of calm washing over him as Violet made Dough chase his own tail.

#rpdr fanfiction #thedane #veronica #galactica #adore x pearl #vitan #katya zamolodchikova #violet chachki #aiden zhane #adore delano #pearl liaison #courtney act #miss fame #raja gemini #lesbian au #m/f au #fashion au

[theydontknowaboutusimagines]

The Set Up - Harry Styles One Shot (Part 2)

Part 1

Harry sighed at his sister’s words. He knew that should never set him up with someone that wasn’t a good person, but he just wanted to find someone naturally. Then again, how many times had he gone out with someone through mutual friends, so why would this be different just because he was his sister and his mother behind it. 

Looking over at you, chatting and laughing with the man at the bar. His annoyance level was beginning to rise and he didn’t know why. Maybe it was because he was slightly jealous. He wouldn’t say he was a shallow man, but as with most human beings he noticed how beautiful you were. Your smile and what little bit of your laugh he could hear brought a smile to his lips. 

“Go and talk to her,” Gemma said. “Just have a few minutes of a chat. We’ll be leaving soon anyway, so might as well get it over with now.” 

He rolled his eyes, downing the rest of his drink and handing the empty glass to Gemma. 

“Oi, what am I supposed to do with this?” She asked. 

He shrugged with a smirk before making his way over towards you and the man. When he approached the two of you, he cleared his thought, making both of you look over at him.

“Uh, hey, Y/N,” he smiled. 

“Hey,” you smiled back looking over at him. 

“I uh, I hate to interrupt,” Harry started. 

“It’s uh, it’s okay,” Alex said. “When you said you came here with a friend, I didn’t realize-” 

“Oh, we’re not-”you started, but he had already excused himself. 

“Sorry,” Harry winced. 

“It’s fine,” you said. “So, did you need to tell me something? Is Gemma ready to leave?” 

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you,” he said. “I thought since I invited you to come along, it would be rude of me not to.” 

You sighed, looking at him, “Before we continue this, can I ask you something?” 

“Sure,” he said cocking his head to the side in confusion a bit. 

“Are you only doing this because Gemma put you up to this?” You asked. 

“So, you know about the whole set up thing, too?” He asked. 

“I knew it,” you sighed. “You know what, you don’t have to take pity on me for your sister. In fact, I shouldn’t even be here right now. I’ll just go and you can carry on about your night.” 

You grabbed you jacket and hopped off the stool to make your way towards the door, when he grabbed your arm. You stopped, feeling this weird sensation in your body from his touch. You turned around to look at him. You two were standing closer than you had been all night. 

“I’m not taking pity on you,” he said softly. “Do you want to know the real reason I came over to talk to you?” 

You sighed shaking your head, “Why?” 

“Because when I saw you talking to that guy, I was a bit jealous,” he whispered. 

“Okay, you’re drunk,” you said. “And if you’re just looking for someone to fuck tonight, you need to look somewhere else.” 

You went to leave again, but he pulled you back. “I’m not-Okay, maybe I’m a little bit drunk, but I’m not looking for someone to fuck tonight.” 

You rolled your eyes, “So, what? You saw me talking to some guy and got jealous, for god only knows and now what? You don’t even know me.” 

“Exactly,” he sighed. “I don’t even know you, yet I got fucking jealous over someone else talking to you because I wanted to be the one to talk to you.” 

“Well, now’s your chance, what do you want to know?” You asked. 

**

When you left your flat that night to go to the award show, you never imagined that you would find yourself grabbing ice cream with Harry Styles at one in the morning. After the little scene at the after party, he had asked you to join him for ice cream and you found yourself saying yes. 

Which brought you to where you are now, stopping at the supermarket to grab a pint of ice cream, since all the shops were closed. You were sitting out on a park bench taking turns taking bites of the ice cream. 

“So, my sister said you worked for The Mixtape?” He asked.

You nodded, “I do, although technically, I’m co-founder,” you said. 

“Wait? Really?” He asked. “That’s been around for ages.” 

“You know it?” You asked. 

He blushed, “I may have listened to a few podcasts and read the magazine a bit.” 

You smiled, “I started the blog when I was sixteen with one of my best friends. I mostly posted about my favorite songs, albums, how music easily music could take you back to a place or a memory. I would also talk about different shows or bands I had found. Then it sort of just took off... turned into more a website after we found a few other writers because it was too much for the two of us to handle. Next thing I knew, we were printing a magazine with interviews with different artists and other music fans. And now we’ve started a podcast to really dive into topics.” 

“Wow,” he said. “That’s amazing.” 

“Thank you,” you blushed. 

“Now, I do have to ask,” he said. “Since you own a music website, I assume you’ve listened to my music before?” 

“I have,” you nodded. “Let me guess, the follow up question is going to be... am I fan?” 

He laughed, “Perhaps.” 

“I’ll be honest with you. I am a fan,” you said. “But as far as keeping tabs on who are as a person, I’m not that type of fan. The only things I do know about you are from Gemma and your mum.” 

“Oh god,” he laughed. “I feel like I’d rather you google me.” 

“Stop it,” you giggled. “They never told anything bad... except maybe not to try anything you’ve cooked.” 

“I swear I’m never going to live that down. It was one time. I was watching a cooking show and I thought I’d give it a go, but I didn’t exactly have all the proper ingredients, so I improvised,” he laughed. “It was horrendous.” 

You giggled, “How old were you?” 

“Twelve, I think?” He said. “I was trying to be nice and cook my Mum dinner instead we ordered pizza.” 

“Well, it’s the thought that counts,” you smiled snagging another bite. 

You noticed him watching you, staring at you, with a smile causing you to blush, “Uh, what’s wrong?” You asked. “Do I have ice cream on my face?” 

“No,” he laughed. “Nothing’s wrong...well maybe a little.” 

“I’m not following,” you laughed. 

“I’m going to have tell my sister she was right,” he said. 

“About what?” You whispered. 

“That I would like you,” he said. “I know it’s a little premature and we technically only just met, but I would really love to see you again, if you uh, also want to see me again.” 

“I’d really like that,” you smiled. 

**

It wasn’t until a few days later when you met up with Harry again. You two had briefly chatted over the phone trying to figure out where and when you see each other. During your conversations, neither one of you mentioned or referred it to as a date, but you had to admit you were hoping it was. You both decided on some doing something casual, a simple dinner at a nearby restaurant and then you said you would take care of the rest of the night. 

Harry was on his way to pick you up and you could feel the nerves bundling up inside of you. You changed your outfit five times before finally deciding upon a pair of dark wash jeans with a gucci belt paired with a long sleeve see through black top. You wore your hair in a curly half up do with a bun on top, slipping on a  few of your favorite rings and necklaces. 

Once you were fully dressed, you took one last look in the mirror before throwing some necessities into your bag and heading into the living room. Just as you were grabbing your coat, your phone alerted you that you had text message. It was Harry saying he was outside. Instead of going through the letting him in process, you decided to just meet him there. 

Pulling on your coat, you grab your bag, locking the door behind you and heading down to the main floor. You looked around, seeing Harry parked just down the street a little bit. You smiled knocking on the door, which he quickly got out to open the door for you. 

“Thank you,” you smiled. 

“You’re welcome,” he smiled. 

The drive to the restaurant consistent of mostly small talk. A bunch of how was your day, how have you been, etc, etc. When you arrived, Harry gave his keys to the valet before following you inside. He had placed his hand on you back as the two of you walked in. 

“Reservation?” The hostess asked. 

“Yes, two for Styles,” He smiled. 

“Right this way,” she smiled taking two menus and walking towards the back fo the room. 

“Is a booth okay?” She asked. 

Harry looked at you and you nodded, “It’s fine.” 

“Your server will be right with you,” she smiled. 

“Thank you,” both you and Harry smiled. 

“If you’ll hand me your jacket, I can hang it with mine,” he said. “There are hooks over here.” 

“Oh, thank you,” you smiled slipping it off and handing it to him. 

Even though he was trying to be discreet, you could easily see him looking you up and down. You felt heat rush to your cheeks before sat on your side of the booth. Harry joined you on the other side taking the menu in his hands. 

“Have you been here before?” He asked. 

“Once,” you said. “Actually, it was uh, with someone from work.” 

“Uh-oh,” he said. “I feel like there’s a story there.” 

“Nothing gets past you,” you joked. “But yeah, there’s a big, fat, shitty story there.” 

“I’m all ears if you ever want to share,” he laughed. 

You laughed before skimming back over the menu as you gave the waiter your order. 

“Okay, so what’s the plan for after?” He asked. 

“Well, there’s pub that has a songwriter night a few times a week,” you told him. “I usually go to scope out any up and coming artists to profile on the site. I thought maybe we could check it out tonight, if that’s okay with you.” 

“It’s more than okay,” he smiled. “I’d love to go.” 

“Great because I already got us tickets,” you smirked. 

“What would you have done if I said no?” He asked raising an eyebrow. 

“Oh, I would have just found someone else to join me,” you shrugged. 

“You wouldn’t,” he gasped. “You know for a fucking fact that you wouldn’t have near as much fun with anyone else.” 

“Hm, I guess we’ll just have to see about that,” you smirked. 

“Guess we will,” he smirked. 

**

The rest of dinner had gone great, in between bites and sips, the two of you found yourself laughing and joking about different things. At one point, you two were laughing so hard, tears started filling up your eyes. After Harry paid for the bill, you both got up and he helped you slip your coat on. You smiled pulling your hair out from under the collar and grabbing your bag. 

“So, I need to tell you something,” he said as the two of you waited for the valet to bring around his car. 

“Should I be nervous?” You asked. 

He laughed shaking his head, “I have that exact same shirt, but it’s in white...” 

“Oh my god, you do not,” you giggled. 

“I do,” he laughed. “It’s a possibility for tour.”

“Well, if you do, you know I’m going to do a who wore it better, right?” you smirked. 

“You, definitely, you,” he smiled. 

“Thank you,” you said looking down a bit. 

The pub you were taking it him to was a few streets over, so it didn’t take entirely too long to get there. You smiled getting out of the car after he parked. He headed towards the entrance to wait in line, but you pulled him back. 

“Follow me,” you smirked heading towards the back door. 

“Well, someone’s a bit of a rebel,” he joked. 

“Or I know a guy,” you smirked. 

“Should I be jealous?” He laughed. 

“That does seem to be your thing,” you laughed. 

“I promise I’m not like a jealous, controlling type boyfriend,” he said quickly. 

“Boyfriend?” You raised an eyebrow. “Already throwing the b word around? What sort of girl to you take me for, Styles?” 

“I well, I mean, you know... Im just going to shut up now,” he said. 

You laughed, “I’m just taking the piss out of you.”

“You know my sister said you were nice, and I’m starting to think she was lying,” he smirked. 

“Remember how I said I could find someone else to join me?” you smirked. 

“Fair enough,” he laughed. 

You showed your tickets to the security guard, who let the two of you in, and Harry followed you over to the VIP section. 

“Damn, you are quite official aren’t you?” He asked. 

“That I am,” you smiled. “I mean it’s not exactly a suite or side stage tickets to an Ariana Grande concert.” 

He laughed, “Maybe not, but it’s cool nonetheless.” 

“Pst, I know,” you smirked. 

In the hour that had passed at the club, you two had seen about 3 performers, finished a small cocktail and somehow had inched closer together at the booth. His arm had made it onto the top of the booth, which made you even closer. You found yourself looking over at him throughout the night whenever you sipped on your drink or bopped your head to the music. Luckily, he never caught you, but there were times you could feel his gaze on you. 

Since the music was pretty loud in the smaller space, it was hard to make conversation. 

“Are you having fun?” You asked him once the performer was done. 

“I am,” he nodded. “I can’t believe I didn’t know about this place before now.” 

“Well, glad I could be the one to let you in on a little secret,” you smiled. 

“Maybe next time I can be the one letting you in on a secret,” he smiled. 

“Ooooh, so not only have you brought up the b word, but you also want to see me again?” You smirked. 

He blushed with a laugh, “I’d be a fucking liar if I said no.” 

“Well, that’d make two of us,” you said turning towards him. “If I said I didn’t like the sound of that.” 

Smiling over at you, you could feel him leaning closer towards you with a glance down to your lips. Instinctively, you moved your head closer to his, and just when you both were about to close the remaining distance between you, when music started playing again, causing the two of you to jump out of your little trace.

**

It had gotten late, so the two of you decided to head out. Ever since the almost kiss, the tension between you was growing. You weren’t sure if it was your own need or his as well, but you were practically itching at wanting to press your lips against his. Of course, you wouldn’t be opposed to taking it past way more than kissing, but this was still new and you didn’t want to just bed your best friend’s brother in case it didn’t work out. 

When Harry pulled up outside of your building, he turned the car off and looked over at you. 

“Do you mind if I walk you up?” He asked. 

“Not at all,” you smiled. 

He nodded as you both got out of the car and headed into the building. You typed in your code and then got onto the elevator. Neither of you said anything on the ride up, only once you were standing outside your door. 

“Well, this is me,” you said. 

He nodded running his hands through his hair, “Tonight was fun.” 

“It was,” you smiled. “Thank you for inviting me out.” 

“Anytime,” he smiled. “I meant what I said about seeing you again. I’ve uh, I’ve got to go to New York in a few days, but I’d love to see you when I get back.” 

“Sure thing,” you smiled. “Just let me know when you get back.” 

“Well, I uh, I was hoping I could call you, while I’m gone?” He asked putting his hands in the pocket’s of his coat. 

“You better or I’ll hunt you down,” you joked. 

He laughed, looking down as he shuffled his feed, “I should probably go. It’s getting late and I’m sure your neighbors don’t want to hear us talking out here in the hallway.”

“Right,” you nodded. “So, I guess I’ll just see you when you get back then?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. 

You nodded again waiting for a spilt second to see if he would try to kiss you again, when it was apparent he was not, you grabbed your keys out of your purse and unlocked your door. 

“Goodnight,” you smiled with a wave. 

“Goodnight,” he smiled back. 

You turned to head inside, when Harry’s voice stopped you. 

“Wait,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Yes?” you asked looking back at him. 

He walked closer to you looking down into your eyes as he put his hands on the sides of your face. Your gaze dropped down from his eyes to his lips and back up again. Next thing you knew, his lips were against yours and you felt as if your heart was going to burst. 

**

Sooo... this one shot has now turned into more than one part. I don’t see it being super long... but we’ll see where this goes. 

#One Direction Imagines #Harry Styles Imagines #Harry Styles One Shot

[antivirus-mh-au]

Antivirus - Chapter 2

TW: None Chapter 1 here Ao3 link If you like this, please leave a like, reblog, or send me an ask! It encourages me so much.

He blew the smoke from his mouth around the cigarette, the morning sun catching all the particles as they floated into the air. Tim drew the J on top of the fresh carton and dropped the pen onto the dashboard. Pulling the cigarette from his mouth, he drew in a deep breath of fresh air, fresh as you could get at a gas station by a highway. Looking around the parking lot, at the people filing in and out, he shook his head and gave a wry smile. Hard not to be in a good mood when you got some decent sleep for once.

Becca and Lukas were okay. Lukas's leg had been taken care of, and the two had set back off for Idaho, back to the families that loved them. Another success case for Timothy Kane. Another group of people adding to the myth of his existence. Seemed like every month there were more of them. The Operator never tired. The sickness never eased. In fact, it only grew worse.

But like hell was he going to start off a good morning with that depressing shit. He'd gotten paid, gotten rest, and he'd found out where the nearest library was with free internet. He was not going to let a rare moment of peace escape him. He'd lost too much for that.

The library wasn't far away from the gas station he'd refilled at. By the time he pulled into the parking lot, it was open, as were the windows on the front of the building. He spoke briefly to the clerk at the front desk, making sure he understood their internet rules and that it was okay for him to bring in his thermos of coffee, before finding a convenient spot by a power outlet. 

His laptop was getting old, it took a while for it to boot up. As Tim waited, he thumbed through a newspaper. Experts predicting a war with China for the third time in as many years, conflict in the Middle East, the royal family in Britain getting roped into some scandal or another. That was why he didn't read the news much, it was always the same. By the time he got to the comics (never his favorite part of the newspaper), his laptop had finished, and Tim traded the two without a second thought.

He could and did check his email on his phone but he was old-fashioned and preferred to use his laptop when he had the chance. Earlier Becca's mother replied to his report about her daughter returning home, a message he'd saved in a special folder he looked at when he felt particularly shitty. 

Another email was waiting for him now, from a 'Meridith Frederickson'. Another client, looking for her son and his missing best friend. He replied to that one, offering to schedule a Zoom meeting later that same day. By now he knew all too well what happened if he wasn't on top of his cases. 

And of course, he had new messages in the spam folder. Tim glanced over the subjects of the emails without opening any of them. Some didn't have any, but most were vaguely threatening, the kind he usually got from trolls and kids. 'Always watching', 'there's no escape', 'how could you', and on and on and on. People thought they could get a rise out of him by acting like totheark, but none of them even came close to what Brian had been all those years ago. 

Tim glanced at the tab next to his email, frowning. There was no sense in trying to put it off, even if he hated doing it. Everything on that site made him feel worse, and today had been a pretty good day. But if he didn't look, he'd regret it later, falling into a rabbit hole of updates that was guaranteed to fuck him over. So he opened YouTube.

The videos were taken down years ago, the channels involved with Marble Hornets wiped from the website. But that didn't mean they were gone, just hidden away on Google Drives and shock sites. What was on YouTube was... the fandom.

It made his skin crawl thinking about it. People from all over the world were obsessed with what he and Jay had been through. He'd seen hundreds of articles about the videos, from five minute listicles to long analysises about the events and the people involved. He'd seen other things, too, things he'd rather not remember. Like the fanart...

Out of everything, though, it was the YouTube community that unsettled him the most. The passionate, wide eyed college kids. The naive high schoolers. The older people, with their backgrounds in criminal science and forensics and cryptids and God knew what else. They picked over the videos and tweets and codes like vultures at a pile of bones. Like it was just a fictional web series, like people he knew and once liked weren't dead. And they spread the disease. It didn't take all of them, leaving the YouTubers alone, but claiming their followers. It made him sick thinking about all the people he couldn't save, the people who had no one left to try and find them, the people who vanished into Rosswood Park and were never seen again. It made him sick, watching these ignorant people talk about his pain as if they were all insects under microscopes.

But if he didn't pay attention, who knew what might happen. The Operator was watching all of them. One slip up was all it took.

He scrolled through both the front page and his subscriptions. The videos were, in the end, all the same. Speculation, discussion, analyzation. Some of them he could watch later. Others needed his attention now.

Tim’s eyes landed on a video, and his heart clenched. The Neophyte was streaming again.

The still image didn’t show much. Neophyte_Calling didn’t put much work into his channel. It was just a shot of what the streams normally showed, pale, unkempt hands poking free from black robes, resting on an old plastic table. That was what he expected to find once he opened the stream.

And he’d be correct, that was what awaited him once he got the courage to click. The hands twitched and clenched and dug at the table. It wasn’t the hands that were special though, it was what the owner of those hands were saying.

“Autumn after firestorm, the nights don’t listen and the butter is on the corn. Ten days or twenty paces of living guts wrapped around an old man’s neck. The water comes up to your waist but you don’t feel the attitude of denial inside the bastard daughter’s heart. Oh, god, eureka, industry was never so smooth…”

Complete nonsense. The ramblings of a man on some kind of drug, or lost to some unknown mental illness. Despite this, the chat flooded with messages. Donations popped up occasionally, attempts to get the Neophyte’s attention. He didn’t notice. He never noticed. He just kept talking. And he would keep talking until the stream ended on its own, or he passed out on the table.

People called him a prophet. Claimed every word he spoke had a double, or even a triple, meaning. They recorded every word he said and discussed them among themselves, coming up with ‘translations’ for his maddening dialogue. And to be fair, they could have a point. Sometimes, what the Neophyte said did seem to foretell events that happened not long after he spoke them. But the god the Neophyte channeled was not one Tim would ever ask someone to worship.

Silence. The man stopped talking, his fidgeting hands resting flat on the table. Dread filled Tim’s body. Speak of the devil, he was doing this again?

The Neophyte spoke again, his voice deeper now. The words came clumsy from his mouth, uncomfortable, heavy, as if he had never spoken before. The emphasis, the tone, it was all wrong. Tim had no trouble understanding them, however.

“You always fight,” It said through the Neophyte’s mouth. “You always resist. You tire, and exhaust, and fall. You continue to fight despite.”

The robes shifted, the head hidden from the camera’s view tilting.

“Tim,” It said. “You are a grain of sand. I am eternal. I am here. I will always be here. You understand. You continue despite.”

On the side of the screen, the chat surged with messages. It raced so quickly, Tim couldn’t have read any of them even if he tried. He didn’t look away from the livestream. 

“Tim,” It said again. “Enough. You have fought hard. You are getting old. That’s enough. It’s time to come home. To us. To all of us.”

The hair stood up on his arms, on the back of Tim’s neck. He shuddered.

“Like hell,” he whispered, and closed the tab.

But even though he closed the livestream, he could swear he heard the Neophyte, the thing puppeting him, whisper in his mind.

“Coward.”

When 2pm rolled around, Tim was back in his van in the library parking lot. Obviously he couldn’t do a Zoom call inside the quiet space, but their internet reached well past the parking lot. He sat on his bed, now folded up like a couch inside the converted van he lived in. His laptop open before him, the program open and ready. Now he just had to wait for her.

Hard to say what this Meredith Fredrickson would expect a private investigator like him to look like, but Tim did his best to look presentable anyway. Hair combed, beard trimmed, leather jacket kept to the side out of her line of sight - leather jackets weren’t worn by authority figures, and that was what he was trying to be right now. Not anyone could do this job, but who’s to say she knew that? If she didn’t like the way he looked, she could try to find someone else to find her son and his friend. And if she did that, by the time she realized only Tim could help her, it would be too late.

Thinking about it that way made him shudder.

Of course, while he was prepared to deal with what she thought he would look like, he wasn’t as ready for what she herself would look like. As the call began, and Meredith’s face came on screen, Tim hesitated. He looked at her closely again. Had he seen this woman before?

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Fredrickson,” He greeted.

The woman shook her head, her curly brown hair tossing around her slim shoulders.

“Meredith is fine,” she said. “I haven’t been called ‘Mrs’ since my husband died. I changed back to my maiden name - my son’s last name will be his, not mine.”

“Of course,” Tim said. Odd information to include, but people tended to ramble when they were nervous.

He looked at her again, at the frown lines developing around her lips, and the worry and pain in her wide-set eyes. Behind her was a normal looking home, a few windows with pale curtains, a kitchen kept clean from what little he saw. Something was nagging at him. What was it?

“Did you fill out the information packet I requested?” He asked.

Meredith nodded.

“Yes.”

The file appeared, Tim half-listening to her as he opened it.

“I know this is a very strange thing to ask from you,” Meredith said. “But circumstances have changed in a way I really didn’t expect. I know it’s hard to believe that after ten years my son could be alive, but I don’t have any other explanation for…”

She trailed off. Tim didn’t look away from the document she’d sent. The names written on the very first line.

Missing People: Jay Merrick and Alex Kralie

Motherfucker, had he been tricked?

Tim shot the woman a sharp glance, examining her expression in seconds. She was not the first person to ask him to track down Jay and Alex, but she was the first he hadn’t screened out before it got this far. Most people were upfront about their intentions, or were obviously trolling, or he otherwise got weird vibes from them. This Meredith had slipped him by, and wasted his time in the process.

“He is my son,” Meredith said. “I’ve included his birth certificate, since I thought you might not believe me.”

“I don’t need it.” A birth certificate? Those weren’t easy to fake, but Tim was no expert on Photoshop either. 

“I would’ve included Alex’s, too,” Meredith continued. “After all the years he and Jay knew each other, you would’ve thought I’d have it too.” She laughed, and there was pain within it. “But his parents died in a car accident about six years back, and…”

“Wait.” Tim refocused. “Alex and Jay knew each other?”

“Since the first year of middle school,” Meredith said with a nod. “I have a lot of photos of them. You know, Jay went through a phase, where he wore all black, and listened to rock music with singers I couldn’t understand. He got a tattoo of one of the bands on his ankle behind my back. I was so angry...”

She laughed again, and her eyes went distant. Tim stared at her, his mind flashing back to all the conversations he’d had with Jay, things that didn’t go into the videos. Being Alex’s childhood friend, since middle school - the phases he went through as a teen - that damn tattoo he was so embarrassed of. None of these were known by the fandom.

Oh god, this woman was the real deal. Even her face, now that he looked at her, was just like Jay’s. The distant look in her eyes as she thought… Jay got that same expression.

“Meredith,” he said, his voice softer, kinder. “Do you know about Marble Hornets?”

“I can’t bring myself to watch them,” she said. Meredith folded her hands together. “But I know what… what was shown on the videos. I know that they are…” She swallowed. “Considered dead by most people. I was one of them.”

His gut twisted. By most people, including her. “But something… changed.”

“Yes.” She took a deep breath, and moved to wipe her eyes. “I got a package in the mail about a week ago. Inside was a flashdrive and a few printed photos. It had been placed in my mailbox - I don’t know who sent it.”

Oh no, Tim thought. Not this again. Please, don’t play this game with people again.

“What were the photos?” He asked, aware of the sound of his own voice more than anything else.

“I’ve included most of them in the document,” Meredith said. “I… I still can’t believe what I’ve seen, but… But they don’t look like they could’ve been faked.”

Dread pressed down on his shoulders. Dread and something else, some kind of energy buzzing through his nerves. Tim looked at the document, scrolled down, and opened the photos.

Some were blurry, taken from a distance and zoomed in before being printed. Some were clear as glass. It took him several seconds to process what he was seeing, what the subjects of the photos were. Tim blinked, looked again, and his pulse quickened.

Alex, standing on a street corner, gray in his hair, exhaustion on his face. Jay in a dark cloth jacket with a hood, looking over his shoulders. Alex, and Jay, Alex, and Jay, in all the photos, in every single one. The clothes were different, the faces aged, but there was no denying what he was seeing, and like Meredith said, no way to fake what he was looking at.

“Oh my god,” Tim mumbled.

Jay and Alex were alive.

#marble hornets #marble hornets fanfiction #marble hornets tim #Tim Wright #mh tim wright #mh tim #marble hornets alex #alex kralie #mh jay merrick #jay merrick #MH Jay #mh antivirus au #mh alex

[violetsystems]

#personal

I deposited my first check for my business yesterday at the bank.  I had to go to the teller because it’s an entirely different account.  They repeated the name back to me off the check and asked me if I wanted a balance.  If you look at my life from the right perspective everything seems amazing.  Truthfully, they say the American dream is owning your own business.  They say a lot of dumb shit about America.  Now more than ever.  Which is why it’s nice sometimes to stick around in a neighborhood and let people battle it out in terms of what they think of you.  It’s been about ten months of insane isolation.  I spend most of my time at home alone with my cat.  I talk to my parents every so often but nobody really else intimately.  Other than here.  I live in a city so it’s impossible to be alone once you leave the house.  I sometimes think that’s a hard balance to maintain.  It gets easier over time the less I worry about the outside world.  I know it’s hard to when you live on a planet in the middle of a dense, dark universe.  But these days I pay more attention to space in the news more than anything.  I just bought a few things for my business to experiment with.  A mini drone to learn Python with.  I flew it out on the porch for a few seconds until my neighbor poked their head out.  Everybody out here is always in everybody else’s business.  It’s almost a reflex.  Oddly enough when I fly it indoors my cat just rolls her eyes at it.  I’ve been continuing to apply for jobs and maintain a presence on the job sites.  But everything whiffs in such a weird way.  It’s like I’m invisible until I’m out on the street.  Then it’s everyone wasting my time and energy trying to project some secret messages or agenda.  It’s laughable at this point.  You’d think after years of fucking with somebody on a guerilla level you’d bother to at least acknowledge them with more than a glare.  And yet people can’t be bothered to be kind or understanding.  There’s not enough of it in the world.  So when you walk that path, everyone has their hand out.  Everybody expects it’s a given that we’re all in this together.  When it comes to my physical address behind closed doors most assuredly this is not true.  But considering my business address and my residence are one and the same right now, it’s not too hard to know I’m painted in a corner.  I don’t have friends that even check on me to see how I’m doing other than here.  Everybody in this city is too caught up in a lie or afraid of being exposed.  I can confirm this by simple math.  The people I still keep up with are business transactions at best.  There’s an icy veil between that where you get this feeling you aren’t welcome into any real social circle anymore.  This feels even worse applying for jobs in this city.  I just got out of a twenty year employment opportunity where you get to work with your friends.  Only to find ten months after being let go, none of those people were my friends.  I personally at this point care more about making money than friends.  The teller is friendly enough when they stare at my account from behind the screen.  It’s a nightmare to think over two years ago my life was quite the opposite despite having it all.  Dream jobs are in the past now.  Everybody’s godson is their own personal cybersecurity officer.  The nerds got rid of their IT managers and are locked in their bedrooms on zoom with their cameras off.  I’m more excited about drones on Mars and autonomous delivery.  And I still see no future for me here, there or everywhere.

The biggest lesson for me has been about validation.  There is a point when what you want to do isn’t the clearest road.  I’ve had my share of friends doubt who I wanted to be or become.  I’ve cautiously shared things about my life I couldn’t put into words only to have my concerns gaslighted or dwarfed for the main narrative.  People who lie are really good at one thing.  Continuing to lie.  When I catch people in lies, it makes me angry.  Mostly because the one thing I’ve always tried to do was be transparent, accountable and real.  The way I see America when I walk out my door is severely broken.  A thousand fractured narratives clashing together in selfishness.  I try to keep the peace and bridge things together as best I can.  But I’m no politician.  I’m not even an activist.  I’ve been duct taping my life together for almost a year only to realize everybody else’s is far worse off.  Social distancing through the plague has brought me to extremes.  It helped me distance myself from years of my life I’d been caught up in.  And yet now I find myself caught up in a city rather than a suburban area I crawled out from years ago.  College is so far away.  I actually took masters level courses in Psychology.  I wanted to go into artificial intelligence.  I settled for data analytics and human resources.  Never really did much with that degree other than learn how to spot crazy.  I don’t have any student loans to trade for leverage with an employer.  Everybody follows me around and talks behind my back to the point where I wonder if employers have a red flag tabbed on my LinkedIn profile.  The shit I have seen done with my life is so fucking amateur that people would rather erase me than confront the problem.  And therein lies the lesson.  You have to validate yourself.  Believing in yourself and walking away from the table is a tough thing when everyone negs you to think less.  But there’s a point when my Viking roots throw caution to the wind and I tell the world I’m done.  I’m sure my Gyspy roots concur.  Not sure about the Bohemian side.  I think here is the hidden key to Nationalism.  Everybody falls back on their shallow gene pool for comfort to ease the cognitive dissonance of society being a chaotic fuck show.  Primitive thinking that can’t evolve beyond pattern recognition.  The things I’m supposed to be proud of are very finite to me.  They don’t span generations or even decades.  The last ten months has been the most bleak and soul churning I have ever experienced.  And I experienced it quietly with my family and my real friends in a weird sort of intimacy.  And even my parents don’t really know what goes on with me too deeply.  There’s a point when you have to be your own person.  And some people can’t break free and stand on their own too without fear or pain.  So they’d rather fall back into a crowd.  Where they can stop being judged, negated or feel unsure about where they stand.  That is a crutch.  Sometimes the world is so hurt you need something to stand on.  And sometimes the bones heal you back all gnarled and distorted.  You look inward and all you feel is hate.  And that hate isn’t you.  It’s not a good thing to be angry all the time.  And yet I feel it too.  More so these days when I let myself get angry over things and people outside my control.  The people outside my door don’t ever validate me in a way that’s dignified or respectful.  And that says a lot about the world in general versus how I choose to live.  The real lesson I’ve learned is that this is the way it is.  If you want to change it, you must start with yourself.  And there’s some things you can’t change.  The hell of other people trying to intrude and muscle in on your place on this planet.  

It’s hard to love yourself when everyone else is judging your every move.  It makes you think there is something wrong with you.  And the world is always looking for something to point it’s finger on.  We’re all being judged.  We’re all under duress.  We are all paranoid looking over our shoulder.  I should know because I catch someone with a knowing look out my periphery every ten or fifteen seconds.  That’s a lot to subconsciously prepare for every day I want to live my life.  And yet I know there are people who are simply continuing to live through a lie.  To be further manipulated away from controlling themselves.  The reactionary bullshit in America serves a dual purpose.  Thinning out the herd.  We are so caught up in headlines we never read the fine print.  We are enraged, huddled together through protest and then led further down the rabbit hole with no end in sight.  We complain about government but can’t name a single piece of legislation other than guns that have saved our freedom.  I’ll name one for you.  The CARES act.  We know everything about everyone every second of the day but have never even asked anyone’s name.  And you can seek out that whirl wind circle jerk of group hugs and prayer circles all you want.  People are still just going through the motions.  Saying the right things to avoid confrontation even if it means blatantly warping the truth.  Ask anybody I used to work with.  I would ask them for you but they pretend I’m fucking dead.  And this was how it was supposed to feel I gather.  I was to be taught a lesson.  Freedom isn’t free.  It did teach me a lot about life.  Mostly that I’m not really sensitive to anything other than my own ethics.  There’s things I don’t do.  And these things are observed and never clarified.  I live in a silent void of rumor, legacy and shadow.  I’m living that life you people brag about in public.  Whatever that life is I’m not even quite sure.  I’m terribly alone in all of this and not at the same time.  And it requires me to have confidence enough to simply and effortless believe I’m worth it.  Like some vicious game of poker.  I’m all in at my own kitchen table.  I have no dreams left other than to be free.  And maybe to learn Premiere editing 4k drone videos in my spare time.  I don’t really fucking know anymore what to do other than to continue to not humor anyone’s dumb ass bullshit.  And to be real, this entire experience has taught me firsthand how worthless and fucked up my past is here in America.  Everybody wants some shame to hold over you so you stay a bargain.  Everybody wants to roast you and take your shine so they can look mediocre next to you at best.  Everybody wants to bring everyone down to their level regardless if it’s legal, civil or ethical.  And yet when you do the same, you understand what the problem is.  I’ve walked the walk for years and everybody can’t stop talking their shit.  Now people have run out of bad things to say.  So they either pretend I’m a ghost or speak like I’m some urban legend.  And thinking too much into that can drive an intelligent person insane.  Which is why knowing what I know I stay out of everything completely.  Even when I don’t you can see how much it drags me down to humor it all like a good sport.  These people out here do not play fair.  They never have.  And the only winning move is not to play.  I learned that from Wargames years ago.  Everybody wants to be a hacker now.  If you learn one thing from Hackers the movie.  The M1 is here to stay.  And never try to hack a gibson.  That’s the only ICE you have to fear when it comes to crossing my path.  Flatline your shit and leave you staring at the ground awkwardly with your well meaning intrusive bullshit.  End of line.  <3 Tim