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semi-charming • bill denbrough

(bill denbrough x reader smut)

requested: Do you have any bill denbrough x reader’s that you have finished that can be posted? I really love your work I re read it like everyday lol :) + AKANSHAKAKMA U SHOULD POST THE BILL DENBROUGH HATE SMUT AHHHH + don’t be shy post the b.d hate smut 😀🔫🥰🌝

i haven’t posted a fic in well over several months but i hope u guys like it :) im here and around still so send me something if u wanna chat <3 i also have re opened my requests lkajsdlkaj

also - i gained a lot of new followers while i was gone and im sure some ppl want to be removed from my taglist SO: i am gonna start a new taglist!!! pls send me a message and let me know if you want to be on it bc after this post im starting fresh !!!!!!!!!

warnings: drinking, mentions of weed, dorm living, almost-strangers hooking up, smut, choking (light), light spitting, a tiny bit of dirty talk, switch!bill, its kinda fluffy smut tbh, enemies-to-lovers but its so lowkey, kinda cute guys, neighbor-ish au,

(losers + reader are 19+.)

4.1k words

♡

the first time it happened, you wrote it off as unintentional.

it's happened to everyone: you're joking around with your roommate, or reaching over to grab your laptop, and you fall off your bed to the floor. you knock over your lamp or someone knocks over the handle that was sitting half-empty on the mini-fridge. the tile on the ground of the dorm rooms are hard and cold and don't do much to quiet the noise of anything, so you get that.

but whatever the hell was going on in the room above you was not that. it was three in the morning, and your head was spinning in that sickening way that only happens when you take too many drinks in a short time and find your way to bed for a few hours before being startled awake.

a loud thump madeyou jump in your bed, heart racing as you woke in surprise.

it was around twenty more loud thuds from your ceiling (in a span of barely twominutes) that you gathered the energy to slide out of your bed, sliding on your dorm slides and throwing on a shirt to cover your near naked body before storming into the hallway to climb the most challenging single story of stairs in your life, right to your upstairs neighbors' door.

your hand was banging on the door for a mere five seconds before the door swung open and a terribly confusing sight fell onto your eyes.

three boys who you've only ever seen in passing before in your dorm, all shirtless and heaving breaths. the one who answered the door, possibly bill or mike (judging by the stupid name tags on their door), has bright eyes and dark auburn hair that reflects in the dim light of the hall, backlit by the neon purple from inside the room.his sweaty bare abdomen madeyour eyes twitch as you glared at him, suddenly more irritated because he's kind of really hot and stupid and annoying, and you needed to sleep.

"hi.” he said casually, and you could tell he wasn’t entirely sober, either.

“so what is your f*cking problem?" you said in lieu of a greeting, half-asleep and pissed beyond belief (also still drunk). the boy who answered the door raisedhis brows, head turning with a brow raised, as if to ask his buddies 'are they for real?' before turning back with a large, co*cky smile, "pardon you? we already turned down the music."

you blinked, knowing you must have seemed so rude and looked insane but it was a weeknightand you had classin the morning, "wh- what, no-i'm not here about music. it's like three, you're slamming on the floor and i can hear it like i'm in a f*cking tornado in my room below you so you need to knock it off."

then the other boy, further back with foggy glasses, startedlaughing. the other one laughedtoo, rubbing his neck sheepishly, still breathing heavy. "what the hell are you guys even doing in there?" you added, running a hand through your hair in exasperation.

"they were trying to bench press me. but then bill decided to start doing squat jumps onto his bed." the boy with glasses explained as he rubbed his chest, still concealed by the darkness of the room, illuminated only by the stupid LED neon lights that every single person in the dorms had lining their rooms. that explained the thudding.

"why." you'd deadpanned. you were too tired for this, but you'd wanted them to understand that it was keeping people up. "richie got us kicked out of Pike for stealing their doorknobs and pledge class photos." the third boy says, elbowing the boy, richie. "we felt like working out, but then richie said we couldnt press him, so..." he trails off at the look you give.

"you want my workout routine or something?" richie asks you. you sharply inhale and bill smiles, "well, if that's all, we'll be going. i've got one more rep to get in."

your eyes widened, jaw dropping at his words. he'd laughed, then, and your eyes couldn't stop as you stared at his sculpted abs flex in the light. god damn it.

"chill out, neighbor. sorry to wake you from your beauty sleep." he said as he noticed your look, and you wanted to f*cking hit him.

you rolled your eyes, picking up on his facetious tone. "whatever. just knock it off. thanks," you'd griped,sarcastically smiling at them before trudging away towards the stairwell. and you'd caught it when bill muttered, "is now a bad time to assemble my ikea desk with my drill?"

you'd run into bill once again a few days after when you'd gone to use the bathroom on the floor above you where your friend lived, washing out the bowl you'd used for lunch. a 'shh!' had made your brows furrow as you'd walked in, not paying attention as you'd heard a shower stop and a girl laugh from the other side of the bathrooms.

but a deep voice grunting 'ow, f*ck' made you freeze and then feel hot, wondering what kind of luck you have to be in the bathroom when some people were hooking up in the shower. but you're remindedthat you had the worst luck when you go to leave the bathroom and two figures round the corner, hair soaking wet and hoods pulled over their heads. making eye contact with him, he must've seen how flustered and irritated you were, because he cracked a grin, "good to see you again, neighbor. you sleeping well these days?"

that was only a few days ago. you'd seen him in passing at a party at one of the frats, but had avoided any interaction with him after you saw him and his friend with the glasses snickering to themselves after sneaking looks to you. god, you didn't want to face them again - they were so mocking, so co*cky.... so rude, and they made you feel like you were being insane just for wanting to have peaceful sleep. bill was not your favorite person.

but as bad as the first two experiences were, the thirdtime you had the misfortune of interacting with bill, it was the worst.

your roommate was out for the weekend, and you'd found yourself stuck with your leg and ankle pinned between your heavy file cabinet under your bed and your bedframe, unable to scoot it over on your own to free your leg.

you were planning on relaxing tonight, after being stood up from a booty call hook up. you’re mad, frustrated, horny, and close to tears now that you’ve gotten yourself stuck pinned to your bed.

it’s nearly one in the morning, and nobody’s in the hall.

but then, bill walked past your open door as you struggled, and desperately you called, "hey!"

his double-take into your room, his head poking in, would have been charming if the face was anybody but him.

"what?" he asks, suddenly noticing it’s you. his voice is not charming and calm as you've seen him be with other peers, but in your stubborn mind, you convince yourself it’s fine; you don’t like him, either.

"i'm stuck, can you help?" you say despite your thoughts.

he sighs, dropping his backpack next to your bed and then tugging to try and move the cabinet.

"how did you do this?" he mutters as he pulls as hard as he can to pull it, but your shoe is too wedged diagonally against the floor, cabinet and frame. you sigh, "thought i could nudge it to the side with my toes, i dropped my dab through the crack."

he chuckles, trying to instead shove it backwards instead; to no avail. "smart girl." he says sarcastically, and you roll your eyes, trying to help him shove it. "what was the point of you keeping me up all f*cking night if you aren't strong enough to move this sh*t?" you say, exasperated because it's starting to dig into your calf.

he stops, rolling his eyes at you. "has anyone ever told you that you can be a bit rude?" he asks, moving closer to you to try and push it away. you look down at him from where you stand, elbows on your mattress. "no. you're just a dick. fight fire with fire, or whatever." you mutter, face feeling hot.

you can't stop staring at his shoulders, his arms - they're so hot, the veins popping out of his hands and forearms, the smell of his aftershave wafting into your nose from where he kneels next to you.

he just hums. "i'm going to try to push your leg forward and then push the cabinet away." he states, and you nod, just wanted this nightmare to be over. you're still terribly embarrassed and the proximity to such a hot and confusingly irritating boy is making you lose your grip.

it takes a lot in you to not jolt when his warm hand wraps around your bare leg and starts to pull you, his strong hold on you making you tingle. "what's your name?" he asks, and you almost laugh as his grip on your thigh tightens, the feeling of his fingers wrapped around your skin making you hot. this is insane."y/n." you struggle out, throat feeling dry - there's no reason his hand needs to be so high up on your leg, but some part of you really wants it. "it says thaton my door." you say breathlessly.

whatever he was going to reply with is cut off as he tries to readjust his grip on you and the cabinet, but his hand slides up and grazes the skin near the apex of your thigh, coaxing a sharp gasp to fall from your mouth.

he turns red, looking up at you, "god, sorry." he mutters, and you bite your lip, unable to look away.

you kind of forget to say anything, stuck staring at him, heart thumping as wetness pools between your legs just from this boy's touch. god, you've got to get laid.

his arm is wrapped around the onside of your leg, thumb reaching higher on your thigh than his other fingers, and for a moment you hesitate before deciding to go for it: you drop your hand hand to his hair, pulling lightly as you 'steady yourself,' smirking as you feel his shaky breath against your thigh.

you don't even care about getting unstuck now, all you can think about is being f*cked into the mattress by this asshole boy from the fourth floor. you’re not sure where this feeling came from.

when hefinally pushes the cabinet away, causing you to stumble to catch your ground. he helps you get the cart and then push the cabinet back, awkward small talk making you want to die. "why were you down here anyways?" you ask, rubbing your leg."mike kicked me out to be with a girl and all my friends are out for tonight." he sighs, rubbing his neck. "i have to do homework tonight, just going to find somewhere quiet to get it done."

"that's surprisingly responsible." you say, looking at him wearily. he gives you an annoyed look, "what's that supposed to mean?" you roll your eyes, "you don't seem particularly academically motivated." you state, unsure if you're coming across as flirtatious or just a dick. he gives you a look as he moves to grab his things from next to your bed. "you seem more pleasure motivated."

you catch your mistake immediately - and he does, too, smirking. you stutter to fix it, "don't be gross." you defend weakly.

he's biting his lip and something rumbles in your chest, flames in your abdomen.it's hard to gauge if you don't like him or if you do. maybe you're justhorny.

"i thought you were cute, you know, untilyou showed up at three in the morning to chew me out." he mutters, eyebrows raised,"i get that that was annoying, but it was a saturday. everyone was drunk, i don't get why you are still being a bitch."his face drops when he says that, as if he didn't mean to say it at all, but he doesn't take it back.you shrug, not too offended. he kind of has a point,"i don't get why you have to make everything so much harder than it has to be. doesn't matter how hot you are,i don't have to like you, you know." you say, crossing your arms with a smirk.

"believe me, i'd rather you not like me." he says, smile on his face troubling. you look at him, trying to gauge why you're feeling so flustered, why you want to jump his bones right now no matter how annoying he is. "then why haven't you left yet?" you challenge. you figure if you're reading his actions wrong, this gives him an out.

"because i kind of want to f*ck you now." he says boldly. you just smirk, walking towards where he sits on your desk chair, lowering yourself to straddle him. he looks up at you, eyes large and mischievous as he pulls you down on him all the way, your hips grinding lightly. "i think you want to f*ck me always." you whisper, lips hovering above his, teasing. you're eating up all his attention, soaking it up and savoring the way he watches you.

you boldly snake your hand down between the two of you, lips still refusing to touch his, your hand starting to tease his clothed co*ck as it hardens under your palm. you stroke him as you lean, almost kissing him before pulling away. he glares at you.

then you move your hips, the tension in your room killing you. he lets out a half-moan, causing you to buck your hips again, relishing in the pleasureit gives you. he leans forward, trying to catch your lips, but your hand catches his chest, your lips just centimeters from his own."f*ck you, y/n." he says, fed up with your teasing as his hands squeeze your ass, moving to the bottom of your thighs and then rising with surprising ease, holding you against him and making your heart thump in shock. he takes four long strides towards your bed, tossing you on it. you grin, expecting for him to climb onto you, but instead he's walking towards your door, making your heart quicken. is he leaving?

he slams your door shut, though, and it makes you smirk as he clicks the lock. you're on your back, the sight of him upside down making you bite your lip, eyes nearly even with the bulge in his sweatpants.

he walks up to you, and you eye him as he bends forward, hand catching your chin, holding your head forward with a strength you didn't expect. "look at me." he says suddenly.you blink, feeling hot as you stare into his eyes.

"don't tease me." he says, and you swallow, heart racing in excitement. "okay." you croak, and it seems to satisfy him because he tilts your neck from here he holds your neck and chin, kissing you soundly on your lips. you feel on fire at his touch, squirming as you slip your hands into his hair - it's making you so needy that he's holding you, almost trapped on the mattress, kissing him upside down.

he pulls away and you flip around, allowing for him to climb onto the bed, barely enough time before you pull him in for another kiss, this one heated and desperate.

he bites marks on your neck as your hands palm him, pushing your own thighs together in need. slowly, you push him down against yourmattress and sling a leg over his hip, moving to straddle him. his hands find your hips easily, looking at you like you're the only thing ever worth looking at; your breath leaves your lungs and you steady yourself, the reality of how f*cking beautiful bill is hitting you at once.

you pull his shirt off, yours coming off, leaving you in just your shorts and underwear. he palms your tit*, pinching your nipple as yougrinddown against hisco*ck, whimpering at the feeling of his pantsagainst your clothed cl*t. "if only you'd come up to my room like this." he says, and you snap your eyes to his, seeing the teasing grin but glaring at him. "maybe you would've been nicer to me if you knew how good i'd make you feel." he whispers as you resume your hip's movement, "shut up, bill." you hiss. he laughs, his thumb makingcontact with your cl*t takes you by surprise and you jump a bit, moaning quietly as your eyes close in pleasure.

"take these off." he mutters into your mouth as you bite his bottom lip. you take off your shorts, quickly resuming your spot straddling him, his lips trailing from your breasts to your throat and then your mouth again, grinding against him in need. he toys with your slit over your panties before he pulls them slowly to the side, spreading your juices on his long fingers, humming as he brings his fingers to his lips, watching you as he licks his fingers. you nearly moan, impatient enough that you kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips faintly; "do you want me?" you whisper against his lips.

"i wish i didn't," he says, "but yes. do you want to do this?"

you're breathless, beside yourself with need, "yes." you say quickly, tugging his sweats off and tossing them to the floor. "f*ck you, by the way." you spit, flipping him off. he grins and it's f*cking beautiful, his smirk, his red cheeks, heaving chest. budding hickeys bloom over his neck and chest as he catches your hand, tugging you forward over him, whispering, "you're about to."

you roll your eyes, ignoring the butterflies in your chest, hand falling over his as he pumps himself. your thumb swipes over his tip, spreading his precum before opening the condom he'd pulled out of his pocket (you don't even want to know why he brought one with him to study) and roll it onto his co*ck.

and then you’re pushing aside yourpanties and stabilizing yourself on bill’s chest. you line yourself up on him and look to him for one last confirmation. he nods, “quick f*cking around, babe.” he says, but his voice sounds desperate and his cheeks are flushed and you let out a strangled moan as you sink onto him, the nickname making your stomach flutter. you have to stay and give yourself time to adjust to his size, his moans swallowed by your own mouth as your tongue swipes his. his hands roam your body, squeezing your hips, your ass, your breasts and then rising to cup your neck and back.

“sh*t, bill.” you whimper as you slowly start to move up and down. his eyes fall shut in pleasure and his head tilts back, exposing the entire expanse of his throat for you to claim, his hands falling to your hips. your eyes watch his thin necklace shine in the faint light from your lamp and he's filling you up perfectly.

he looks like f*cking heaven.

you kiss his necklightly as you pick up the pace, bouncing on him steadily as his fingers grip the sides of your thighs.

“f*ck, y/n.” he whispers, staring at you with his lips caught between his teeth. the feeling of him stretching inside you and hitting the perfect spot has your legs shaking already, breathing heavily.he’s soon surging up, kissing you deeply as groans fall from his lips, his arms rising to your waist to hold you as you move.

"you're much better when you're not talking." you mutter as you f*ck yourself on him, moving your hips as you bounce. he rolls his eyes, "i'd f*ck you every day if it meant you wouldn't come ruin my fun every night." he quips back, eyes challenging.and yourhand rises to squeezearound his throat, at first as a joke, but then he smiles brightly, a smirk that stirs something in you and you squeeze ever so slightly, the feeling of his pulse making you moan.

his smirksends butterflies through your stomach, pleasure swirling inyour core. but then his own hand rises to your own throat, squeezing lightly.

you moan, unable to keep it together. "you think two can't play this game, y/n? it's like you don't know me." he tuts, seemingly pleased as you're flushing, gasping as your legs stutter, his hips moving up to meet yours, strokes hitting you deep.“i don’t,” you whisper, and he hums.

your legs stutter after one particularly satisfying thrust and he grabs your hips, lifting slightly and biting his lip as he starts to thrust up into you. “oh, my god,” you moan as he hits your g spot and he curses under his breath.

your hand comes up to rest on the wall behind him as you meet each other half way, hitting a spot deep inside you that has you moaning his name loud enough for anyone to hear. you hope to god your next door neighbors are out.

he presses his lips to yours and you know its to get you to stop being so loud - it makes your toes curl in pleasure. thenhis thumb snakes its way to your lips, hisgrin widening when your lips immediately part and suck on the finger, humming around it as your hand rests on his neck, the other over his abs as you bounce.

"so pretty like this, y/n." he leans up, then, sitting up more and changing the angle, making you gasp with a moan as his hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer to his face with the hand on your face. he pulls his thumb from your mouth with a light pop, your legs barely riding him at your proximity, instead steady on his hips, his co*ck warm and stretching you. "do you think you'd look pretty under me?" he asks. you swallow, moving your hips again and sliding on his co*ck, movements making you stare at him, pleasure building.

"i think you would." he whispers, hand still on your neck. you whimper a bit, sliding off of him, allowing him to climb over you, kissing you soundlybefore pulling you to the edge of your bed, legs hanging off as he stands in front of you. lifting one leg, he kisses your knee and holds it up as he teases your slit with his co*ck before sliding into you again, causing you to let out a loud moan, his own melding with yours.

your eyes roll back at the new angle, legs shaking as his fingers dig into your thigh. “wanna see your f-face when i make you cum.“ he mutters, hand rising to thumb your lip, dragging your bottom lip down.

"you think you're gonna make me cum?" you bite, knowing no man you've been with has been able to.

you watch as his eyes admire the half-lidsof your eyes, the blissed, f*cked-out look on your face. your chest is littered in blossoming hickes, varying from pink to dark red and slightly purple already.

he says nothing in response to you, but pulls your leg further open, spitting down onto your c*nt, making you moan lightly, the action being terribly sexy. his thumb finds your cl*t and starts to rub perfectly in counteraction to his thrusts, his lips finding your nipple.

you gasp in pleasure, panting as you start to wonder if he really is going to make you cum.then his thumb rubs circles on your cl*t and as he presses lightly, you can’t hold off any longer. “f*ck,” you hiss as you hit your peak, your org*sm making your legs shake. you can’t help it, gasping and bucking your hips as you clench against his co*ck in bliss, your org*sm causing you to tug his hair in ecstasy. “so pretty.” he mutters against your neck, pressing kisses to it as you’re moaning and arching your back. "so good, cumming for me." he says co*ckily. you're panting as you whisper, "shut up," his hips still pounding into yours.

“god, you're such a sweet talker.” he mutters sarcastically as you look at him desperately, his eyes fall shut in bliss, a deep groan leaving his lips, you can tell he's close.

"and you're such a gentleman." you jest back, pulling him closer by his shoulders, eyes shutting in bliss. he hums, strokes getting sloppier, "i let you cum first, didn't i?" he counters.

you huff a laugh, something in your heart twinging in affection. you kiss him so you don't say something stupid, moving your hips with his. a few strokes and he's pulling you closer to him by your back, whimpering into your mouth, “y/n, f*ck.” beautiful moans fall from his cherry colored lips as he c*ms, and you just stare at him in awe, surprised by how hot it is as he says your name.he rides his high and then falls off of you, onto the mattress between you and the wall.

"hey," he says after a few moments of you both catching your breaths, your hands overlapping on your stomach but not nearly holding hands. it makes you feel warm in a weird way. excited, nervous.

"what?" you ask, turning to stare into his eyes. he smirks, "you think we woke up the downstairs neighbors?" he whispers, eyes alight with tease.

you shove him, smothering him with a pillow while he laughs, pulling you onto him.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @sft-core @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13@kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @groovybimbo @deepestofwaters @unfortu-nate-ly @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslu*tter @babytortie @decafcoffeew

Beyond disappointed in Ted Lasso. What were they thinking?!

The writing is a complete betrayal and insult to Rebecca’s character and Hannah’s skills as they’re being seriously underused. It’s also insulting Sam’s character.

Hoping someone pulls Rebecca’s head out of her ass tbh. Sam shouldn’t be getting caught in the crossfire of her looking for romance. I know he showed up at her doorstep but she still should’ve turned him away, and not even messaged him in the first place.

Hey, I'm with you, Anon, though we do seem to be in the minority. Sam is definitely not blameless here, he is also in the wrong. But if one of them is more in the wrong, it is Rebecca. I can't speak to whether her head has left her arse as yet because I have quit watching (at least for now). I hear she called it off with Sam in the most recent ep, though not because of any major crisis of conscience or because anyone in her inner circle expressed any reasonable reservations in response to her bad behaviour. And to be honest, I'm not sure we should need to hope and pray that Rebecca's precocious god-daughter, her slimy ex-husband, or the brutal British press will act as a moral compass on this ill-advised relationship. Both Rupert and the press have been set up to some extent as the villains of the piece. And a 14 year old should never have to school her elders on what is and isn't acceptable. Nora's needs have already been neglected by Rebecca for far too long.

If a moral position is to be taken on this, it needs to be taken by the show (because stance matters) and/or by its characters. But the show has for the most part depicted this relationship as ill-advised but ultimately hot, sweet, funny and romantic. As for the characters themselves, Sam has shown at least once that he has some moral backbone but seems to be adorably clueless when it comes to f*cking his boss who keeps trying to set boundaries with him. Meanwhile, Rebecca's whole arc in s1 was about learning not to misuse her power for her own selfish ends. In season one, she misused her power within the club in order to exact revenge. In season 2, we have seen her misuse her sexual power, though I still cannot see to what end. I'm a bit at a loss as to what exactly she gets out of this 'relationship' but then I'm a grown woman so I have absolutely no interest in sleeping with a Harry Potter enthusiast barely out of his teens. I couldn't think of anything less sexy and more ick. I was certainly hoping for better character development for her this season.

As to what the writers were thinking, obviously I was not in the writer's room, but I would guess that they were thinking that any drama is good drama, people are stupid and fan devotion will trump any meaningful critique. In other words, they were thinking exactly how every other television writer thinks, despite the fact that this show posited itself as 'not like other TV shows'. This, to me, is where the blame really lies. Not with the characters or with the actors who are doing their best to sell this ludicrous turn of events. It must be noted, however, that both actors were completely blindsided by this relationship that had supposedly been so cleverly foreshadowed. Newsflash: if the people actually living these stories did not see this coming then you haven't foreshadowed sh*t. Sure, there were a handful of people that paired Rebecca with Sam but this does not constitute proof either. Fans have free-range to imagine and re-imagine characters. In some cases this may extend to imagining relationships between characters who have barely, if ever, interacted. There may be little to no evidence that these characters have even clocked each other's existence and some fans will still ship it. The existence of a handful of shippers does not legitimise such a problematic and divisive plotline making it onscreen.

But wait!, you might argue, this may not be a case of a popular show seeing just how far they can stretch fan devotion. This may not be a case of fan service to a handful of shippers. After all, the creators mapped out the entire three-season arc of Ted Lasso before they even pitched it to Apple. This was their brilliant plan all along! To which I would say: then maybe they should've rethought their second act based on people's strong reactions to their first. Ted Lasso was touted as the show we all needed in 2020. The writers and creators have all marveled at the chord it struck considering it was conceived prior to the pandemic and all the chaos it wrought. And while there is something to be said for having/sticking to a creative vision, there is also something to be said for being flexible and responsive to your audience and the cultural zeitgeist with which you're engaged. Season 1 of Ted Lasso told its story so gently, without creating distrust, division or unnecessary anxiety. It did not treat its audience like a gaggle of stupid lemmings to be led over a succession of narrative cliffs. THIS is what I mean when I say the show has broken with its brand. And look, this whole dark forest thing would be okay if the narrative arc was as well-crafted as s1. Season 1 gave us meaning, cohesion, comfort, sense in a senseless time. It was an almost perfectly crafted season of television. And I kept the faith for 6 episodes, despite the first half of s2 being pretty damn wobbly. But the follow-up to this stellar debut has been less than extraordinary so yeah, perhaps they should've thought a little harder about what made s1 so special before throwing it all out the window.

But wait!, I hear the faithful say, you don't know how things will pan out yet! Wait until the season is over and everything will make sense! But -- wearily and once again, I say -- we should not need to wait until the end of the season to understand what the hell is happening. By this point (over halfway through the season and show) we should have a v clear idea of the show's themes and the characters' arcs. And tbf, from what I can tell there are some fab things happening in other aspects of the show that I wish I could watch and enjoy. But my biggest fear at this point is that they are going to use Sam to solve Rebecca's childlessness. That, like Rupert (because the parallel cannot be avoided), she will become pregnant with a young fling and the show's attitude to this relationship will ultimately be: oh well, it was a bad idea and didn't work out for them but it was all for the best in the end cos who can be mad about a cute lil baaaayyybbbeeee??!! If they do go down this path then I will definitely be abstaining from the rest of the show. I will simply recall my repeated viewings of s1 with fondness tinged with regret at just how badly they f*cked up a good thing.

Ultimately, Anon, I think this may be a case of there simply not being a diverse enough perspective in the writer's room. I am not saying that every single woman or every single person of colour will necessarily object to this relationship. I am simply saying that women and people of colour will be more sensitive to the issues of gender and race that are relevant here but that have not been fully or sensitively acknowledged in the writing of this plotline. Neither am I saying that Rebecca is the first woman to sleep with a man much (much, much, MUCH) younger than herself or indulge in an ill-advised relationship. But the comparison with Rupert both works here and doesn't because Rebecca is not being written like a white woman, she is being written like a white man. Realistically, only a white man can engage in this kind of hugely imbalanced relationship seemingly without any major moral qualms or societal ramifications. Not to put too fine a point on it, but this kind of relationship is reserved for all the Bills and Joes and Brendans and Jasons out there -- not for the Rebeccas and definitely not for the Sams. We are way beyond the point in feminism where we believe that liberation is simply the right for a white woman to behave as badly as a white man. The truth is that whatever wealth, power and privilege Rebecca has, the rules are different for men and women. She will not be treated the same as Rupert if and when this affair is uncovered. She will be treated far more savagely than Rupert ever was and Sam will be treated far more savagely than Bex was. This is not an argument for the equal treatment of these two relationships. It is an argument against how the relationship between Rebecca and Sam has been envisaged, i.e. through the wrong perspective. In writing from a 'neutral' white male pov, the show has invisiblised all the many issues activated by this storyline and revealed a blindspot that was always there.

As much as I loved and still love season 1 of this show, it has definite blindspots when it comes to representations of race and gender. There are at least two moments in s1 that stand out for me as being so obviously written by a man. Not necessarily because of what they do but because of what they don't do: what is missed, absent, unacknowledged. I was willing to overlook such minor failings in a debut season for many reasons. But s2 seems to have exacerbated these minor flaws rather than correcting them. And here I can't help thinking of Tina Fey speaking of the diversification of the writer's room at SNL during her tenure as co-headwriter. This notoriously male-dominated environment only began to shift and produce better work when a greater diversity of minds, voices and persepectives was allowed in the room. In this richer environment, she notes, different jokes played differently. Different sketches made it to air. Different perspectives were represented and different performers were celebrated. I can't help wondering if this plotline would have made it to air if there had been a female writer, a writer of colour or both further up the chain of command to challenge the ideas of the straight white dudes in charge.

One of the reasons I didn't think Ted Lasso was for me was that it centred a straight, white, cis-het, able-bodied man who rose to a position he didn't earn. That is just not a pov I would normally choose for myself, especially now that there is such a rich array of alternative perspectives through which to view the world. But I think the show won a lot of females fans with its first season largely due to its portrayal of Rebecca. She is the first person we meet. She is arguably the protagonist of s1. And while she would have been figured as a villain in previous pieces, the show never took that stance with her (because again, stance matters). Other elements like the depiction of female friendships, all centred around Rebecca, made this show female-friendly viewing. But imo, the major reason this show won over female fans (this one, at least) is because, in this post-MeToo, post-TimesUp era, it stood up and said: domestic violence is not okay, we stand with women and all victims of abuse, we will defend you, we know words can hurt, we know it can happen to anyone, we know all about toxic masculinity, we do not take this lightly and we will support you in your healing. Needless to say, this is how women hope men will act when they speak of their most difficult experiences but it is not how they always do.

The shift away from Rebecca this season has however meant that the white male experience is more centred than it was in s1. Rebecca's journey to recovery, health and happiness has been trivialised and sidelined, reduced to a highly questionable sexcapade. Meanwhile, we get overwrought manpain at every turn. We get Beard wandering around London (no, I haven't seen it and no, I don't need to. We've all been raised on white dudes thinking they're genuises when they have a figurative wank all over our screens). We get NO queer represention at all. And the only other female characters on screen are in care/service roles to men. The father/son, mentoring and toxic masculinity themes are all still there but they're no longer balanced out by ANY other competing perspective. One of the reasons I was okay with Ted failing upwards in s1 was that he used his power and privilege to lift up others. He was the one in service. He used his enormous privilege for good, as anyone with such privilege must. (Admittedly, it could be argued that this is just another version of a white savior narrative).

My point here is that I'm not sure that peeking behind the mask at the sad clown is as revolutionary as some might believe. We love it because it's familiar. But this is a narrative with a long and problematic history. Do I believe in tearing down toxic masculinity in all its forms? You bet. Do I believe that patriarchy traumatises men as well as women and every other minority in existence? I mean...nowhere near as much, but absolutely. Do I believe in men expressing their feelings and going to therapy? Wholeheartedly. But I am also aware that 100 or so years ago, we were in a very similar place with our narratives. Everyone is looking for a recapitulation of modernism and frankly, this might be an indicator of just that. Whenever women and people of colour have demanded rights and recognition, there has always been a resurgence of tales about just how frickin' hard it is to be a white man. Minority genders and non-white people have never in western history been as visible or vocal as they are now. So forgive me (or don't, I don't care) if I critique a show not only for centering fathers, sons, boys and men but for blindly and boldly writing one of its only female characters and one of its only black characters as if their gender and race just do not exist. There are many other power differentials at play in this relationship, including age, experience, wealth and position, but race and gender are the two that patriarchy is most invested in invisiblising. So I don't care how brilliant they think they are, I will not trust the writing of a bunch of white dudes trying to tell me that race and gender are irrelevant.

Here is what the kids call my highly disorganized, half-baked list of stuff that could have been done with Jack to make him a better character.

@yeetmetothehell I am sorry if you are disappointed by my ideas.

“Optimus was more like...Jack.” OK…so show us that.

In my opinion...Jack seems like he was intended to be written to be almost a parallel to Orion’s journey to becoming Optimus Prime, at least how he is used in the plot. Jack is described as “smart and responsible”, which can also be read as “hardworking and responsible” and really this can be achieved in narratively using a few points, IMO:

Long hours in his room/the library studying outside of work and school.

Filling out the background of the garage more with sketches/print outs of motorcycle blueprints (to keep the idea that Jack really wants a motorcycle and show hints of extreme dedication, but they’re kept in the garage rather than his room to metaphorically show that distance he’s put between himself and what he wants)

“Man of the House”/”Grew up too fast” (This will be discussed more later but TL;DR “I’ll handle the electric bill this month, Mom”)

Somewhat fragile work/school/life balance that Jack somehow perfectly maintained before meeting the team

Orion was very physically passive. Jack seems to be intended to be written as passive but it comes off as an apathetic reluctance that Orion doesn’t possess (Orion may not believe in violence but he clearly wasn’t unwilling to communicate his thoughts; it’s how he got the title of Prime in the first place.) However, Orion had to learn to become more outspoken over time probably, so we can keep him as being aloof/reluctant at the start of the series.

“Man of the House”/”Grew up too Fast”

It’s no secret Jack came from a nonconventional home; June is very explicitly portrayed as a single mother with a dad nowhere in the picture. However the situation surrounding Mr. Darby is unknown. The way June talks about it makes me personally feel like Jack’s dad either ran out or divorced June and doesn’t bother with his kid. Dysfunction in the family really just goddamn changes you TBH. (can confirm bc hi, I come from a dysfunctional home) Sometimes you just grow up super fast. Jack probably spent his childhood missing his mom as she worked shifts at the hospital and seeing how lonely and hurt she was. He maybe went out and got a job the first day he could and helps with smaller bills (“I’ll handle the electric bill this month.”), or maybe other expenses like groceries and his own phone bill. June probably makes enough to comfortably support her and her son, especially given her job and the cost of living in rural ass desert Nevada. But Jack still does this anyways--it’s how he copes with his issues after what happened with his dad. Doubling down and trying to be what he thinks is the bigger man because his dad couldn’t be f*cked.

This would make the disruption him letting the bots into his life creates more staggering; June doesn’t expect her son to pay bills, but the sudden change in behavior (skipping out on work) would be a cause for concern because sudden shifts like that are Usually Signs that Something is Very Wrong. Especially because Jack is usually responsible and open with his mom; he would have told her if he was gonna cut hours at work, theoretically.

Jack feels like he has to constantly put his own wants aside to contribute to his household. Even if June doesn’t force this expectation upon him, it’s a feeling that he will have, especially if he watched his dad just abandon him and June. Maybe he has resentment towards his dad for this and that is causing some anger he’s keeping tightly under wraps? And maybe the bots give him an excuse to do something he actually wants to do for once or some excitement in his life and that’s why he goes along with it? Lots of options, people!

Clothing Choices: The Hoodie™

You are going to have to deal with me being a whor* for costuming choices and what they can mean. The show has a problem with the humans wearing the same sh*t every time they’re on screen and I’d love to rant about all of them (yeah yeah I get it saving money) but I’m focusing on Jack right now. Give Jack a hoodie 2020. A grey one or some other dull and drab color. And make him actually always wear the hood (except like in scenes where he is working bc workplace dress codes obviously) As time progresses, the drab hoodie is changed to a more vibrant color, but he still always has the hood over his head. And then, at a pivotal moment, the boy takes the hood off. (You could even throw in Miko cracking a joke about Jack actually having hair if you really wanted TBH.) Why this? The narrative is that Jack is constantly holding himself under wraps because of his self-imposed responsibilities. As he starts to become more into his own, he decides to express himself more with brighter colors, but still has some reservations. When he takes the hoodie off, that’s when he’s fully realized himself in this process and thus completes the parallel.

Actually make him interact with Optimus in a meaningful manner.

Arcee can still be his guardian in the field and I think working on strengthening their relationship is vital. But also, if you’re gonna make Jack the confidante holding the key to Vector Sigma, there actually has to be...meaningful interaction. Optimus asking Jack what he’s so engrossed in reading and Jack explaining the book he’s got with passion before shutting himself up and saying “it’s kinda dumb though” or something. And Optimus just responds “I don’t think it’s dumb, tell me more.” Coaxing him towards more self-discovery and expression. Optimus maybe sees more of his old self in Jack and starts attempting to be a quasi-paternal figure without really thinking about it because he is, after all, Dadimus. Jack maybe lashes out about how he doesn’t need Optimus to be his dad and that makes the space between them tense for a while. Eventually Jack comes to apologize and maybe there’s an important Talk.. Just a few ideas I will expand on later. I feel like forgiveness and lack thereof is a good theme--I know I was held back for a long time because of how convoluted the concept of forgiveness is with family.

The Character Arc

So, what would Jack’s character development throughout the events of season 1 be? My basic idea for a Jack arc that mirrors Orion’s self-realization and coming into Prime-hood without being a carbon copy is essentially:

Jack is portrayed as a responsible, hardworking, studious teenager who constantly turns down chances for fun and excitement to handle his responsibilities. Has clear dreams for after high school and for his own personal life; but he’s constantly contemplating and changing his mind about whether he will or not because he’s extremely dedicated to helping his mom and all that. However, he still gets super curious about Arcee and gets swept up by her in the Vehicon chase, and he still has whispers of courage and protects Raf during the altercation. He first tries to ditch Team Prime because he’s concerned about his responsibilities, but eventually returns because he’s drawn to the opportunity to finally go buck wild for once in his life (even if he spends his time being hesitant about everything.) His hesitancy and dedication to severe self-imposed responsibility is a result of his inability to move on from what his dad did to him and his mom; he’s under the impression that he 1) Has to forgive someone to move on, and thus 2) He cannot move on because his dad isn’t there to bother to say sorry and take on his position as Dad. In essence, he becomes less the character telling Miko to stop and more the character being pushed by Miko to be more adventurous. In lulls in action, Optimus starts to take interest in him when he notices his constant hesitance to express himself and is just being dragged along rather than going willingly. Has a conversation with him about a book Jack’s reading, which Jack attempts to shut down because it’s “dumb and childish,” but Optimus urges him to continue. The idea that June knows about Arcee as a bike and Jack explaining that he bought a motorcycle as a fixer-upper for dirt cheap can stay. (He probably still is saving up for his motorcycle.)

The longest portion, after Optimus starts interacting with Jack on a level of bonding and gently coaxing him to be himself— Jack becomes more outspoken and he’s shown as curious, analytical, quick witted, and has a deep sense of justice. Being young and craving a childhood lost to his trauma and self-imposed obligations to help his mom with running the household, he suddenly starts spending more time at the base pursuing hobbies and going on missions rather than studying and work, which concerns June. She tries to press Jack, and is met with what can be described as typical teenage headbutting that gets progressively worse. She grounds Jack after the fight, MECH takes her, the rescue happens. (That makes sense to stay in this narrative IMO.) Around this time, Optimus has effectively started becoming Jack’s own Alpha Trion—teaching him things that he’s picked up that he may feel apply to Jack. Jack interprets one of these lessons as Optimus trying to be “dad” and he’s not having it. Makes it VERY clear that he does not need a dad (“didn’t need one before and sure as f*ck don’t need one now”) and definitely snaps at Optimus, which then pushes his progress in the arc closer to the end. He eventually comes back to apologize, and Optimus forgives him. He and Optimus have a heart-to-heart about one of the hardest lessons Optimus has had to learn—how to let go of the past without forgiving those who have hurt you and refuse to make amends, so that you may determine your own future. It’s very clear he’s talking about Megatron, even though he never says his name. Jack takes this lesson to heart.

His final bit of development before the hood removal thing probably happens during the events of “Rock Bottom” and reinforces that hard lesson, right when he’s faced with the option to off Megatron. Maybe there’s some taunting about how Optimus preaches softness and forgiveness too much when Jack refuses to kill him. Jack gets angry, and he’s about to f*cking do it. But then he stops, takes a breath, and says “Optimus doesn’t preach forgiveness, he preaches moving on from those who refuse to move on themselves. He will never forgive you, but he’s learned to live on despite what you’ve done.” Soon after this, when Megatron comes to the base, Jack takes off his hood, stares Megatron right in the face, and says “This is not forgiveness, Megatron. Don’t you forget that.” Later, when Optimus gives him the key, he tells him something along the lines of “you have grown since we’ve met, Jack, and even though there is still a long way for you to go...” he hands Jack the key. “...Remember that even I am a work in progress.”

Anyways this is again, half-baked. And needs lots of polishing. But it’s something.

「 this is a total, 100%“woe-is-me” negativity post, so be warned. I try not to post anything too personal or emotional on this blog, but the truth is, I need an outlet right now. I don’t have a personal tumblr anymore, and tbh, I don’t really want to put this on FB where all my IRL friends would see it. I’m putting this under a read more so y’all can scroll on by and not worry about it. But also, it’s here, so it ain’t a secret. If you want to watch a train wreck, read on.

» » » The moral of this story is going to be that for the next couple of days, I’m gonna be less present on the dash, and just tending to my drafts ( along with developing my OC more because he brings me joy rn ).

Wow, you clicked the Read More. Aren’t you a sick f*ck ? Just kidding, you’re my kind of people. I hope your popcorn is ready. If are you continuing, I’d like to give you some disclaimers :literally none of the following is directed at any one individual or group of individuals. There is not an ounce of guilt that’s meant to be transferred. This is 100% my own bullsh*t as I’m dealing with me. I’m going to complain about RP, but please keep that in mind ;this is all about my own insecurities.

To start, everyone is dealing with a lot right now, let’s not have any delusions about that. sh*t in general f*cking blows. Personally speaking, I don’t like talking about my emotions or the things truly bothering me. I guarantee that if I ever whine about something, then there’s something much deeper that’s effecting me. As of right now, I’ve identified both :the surface issue that I’m taking my frustrations out on, and the deeper problems that’s the root of what’s going on.

So let’s start with the the deep sh*t, shall we ? This’ll give better insight as to why I’m struggling mentally with RP at the moment. I’m the kind of person IRL that’s a loner. I’m in my 30′s, but I’ve never had a serious relationship in my life. I don’t have a lot of friends ( but I do have a couple of really good ones ). I tend to just deal with sh*t on my own. I live alone, I take care of myself. And honestly, all of that is ok because there’s something magical that I have had :my career. I moved to the other side of the country at a young age by myself with one goal, and that was to edit film trailers. And goddamn it, in April 2019, I DID IT ! I mean, I’ve been in that industry since day 1, climbing the ladder, but last April, I was promoted to editor. It was the greatest feeling in the world. I still had a long way to go to prove myself, but I felt like my whole life was worth it for the place that I made it to. Well, this past March ( yes, just 2 weeks shy of my 1st year mark as an editor ) I was laid off due to COVID. Now, I’ve gotten a couple of odd editing jobs here and there, but I’m floundering. I suddenly can’t pay my bills, I can’t even buy proper groceries, but worst of all ? I just sit around all day. Alone. In my apartment. With no sense of direction or purpose. I feel like I lost a whole part of myself ;like I lost who I am as a human being. It’s this terrible, downward spiral of feeling like I don’t even exist anymore. Like who am I without the one thing I identified myself as ? Do I even matter anymore ? My friends are still working, but I’m.... not. I may not have been the pretty one, the witty one, the interesting one, or the loved one, but goddamnit, I was the independent one. I didn’t live a glamorous life, but I have a sweet apartment in a great area all by myself, and traveled, and treated myself to expensive clothing. I lived that Destiny Child’s Independent Woman life. And now ? It’s a big deal trying to decide if I can afford to buy cheese for my turkey sandwiches.

So let’s move this sob story onto the superficial, dumbass things that are bothering me. Like that’s real world sh*t right ? But I don’t like dwelling on real world problems. I handle it and move on. Yet my heart still hurts so I tend to focus on something less important as my excuse. Enter literally the only other thing I have going on rn RP. Man, I have the best writing partners and the best threads, let me tell you ! When I say I love my dash, I’m not just blowing smoke up y’all’s asses. I mean it. Sometimes I just sit and stare at my drafts in awe. But lately, my brain is frustrated. See, I’m not the Indie RP type. I can’t deal with a thousand different threads and interact with everyone, as much as I’d like to. My brain just doesn’t work that way. I prefer to live in my small corner and have a partner with whom our muses are deeply developed. Like full on universes with stories about different parts of their relationship’s timeline and with NPCs and f*cking pinterest boards and sh*t. Y’all know what I’m talking about. A partner who tags me in sh*t because they see a post on their dash and it made them think of me. A partner who can just send my muse random asks about sh*t because they’re bored. A partner I can throw wild fangirly comments at in DMs at all hours of the day because something inspired me, or something made me think of our muses. You see, I had it once. On my Dean Winchester account, I met someone and our muses man... we didn’t plan that sh*t but they clicked and we were inseparable. It was so amazing. But I can’t write Dean anymore and even though I’m still very good friends with that mun IRL, they don’t write anymore. I feel like I’ve been chasing that high ever since, but it’s just gone.

Like, I just did that positivity night, right ? I really needed the boost and nothing helps like giving out compliments, and it worked. Believe me. I was so tickled by the responses and getting to force myself to think of wonderful things about my partners ( which is easy to do, lbr ). But a couple of people went above and beyond and sent it in as a request for someone else. God, how f*cking cool ? But then my stupid brain takes over and reminds me that I don’t have a partner going out of their way like that for me. And god, what a selfish thing to think, right ? This is all good vibes, and I genuinely wanted to make other people smile, but I can’t help but have half my mind say“but what about me ?”. So lame. Especially since I never ask for help so who is even gonna know that need the pick me up ? Ugh. But I’m too chickensh*t to ever send someone a meme to make them compliment me. Hell, I’m too chickensh*t to like people’s posts when they ask for mains. A voice in my head is like“nah man, keep that sh*t for other, more qualified candidates. You have good threads, calm down.” But I dunno, sometimes I feel like I have a ton of threads, but that’s all they are ? The fillers ? Sure, it’s great writing, but it doesn’t go anywhere. It’s not meant to build anything for people, it’s just to give them something to do to pass the time while they’re building universes with theirmains.

Could I be more selfish ? Like really. But that’s the thing :it’s my desolate feeling of complete lack of purpose in life bleeding into the one thing I’m trying to keep my mind distracted with. Do I hate RP ? No. Do I resent anyone on my dash ? f*ck no ! I love all of you and I’m incredibly grateful for anyone that interacts with me. But sometimes I see some magical friendships here and I just... I want that, man. I miss it. I want purpose again, in any facet of my life. I want to be excited again ;about ANYTHING. I’m tired of bobbing around like a cork on the sea of life.

I wish I meant more. 」

Interlude: Second Best

long·​ing | \ ˈlȯŋ-iŋ: a strong desire especially for something unattainableguardian demon!Jimin x readergenre: fluff, romance, angst, comedy, supernaturalword count: 4.9kRelated works: See Masterlist under guardian demon!JiminPOV switch for Jamais VuA/N: IT’S ANGSTY LOLLL woops and a little longer than i had planned tbh but i hope you enjoy it all the same, because this will give you some insight when the tone shifts in the next couple of chapters :DD Again, thank you SO SO SO much for the wait and support! I love you all!! I hope you like this chapter! 💜💜💜🥺🥺🥺 (also, without meaning to, The Truth Untold really fits as an OST here... LOL)

Tag: @cherryjiminiee​ @kokobaekkie​ @breathebangtan​ @itsadoozie​ @thatshylatinagirl​ @chiminieboi​ @azulamakesmeblank​ @sectumsemptae @awkwardwookie @aduky @poisonseashell @shortannoyingginger @caramelmac-chiato @sana-b

He needs to stop doing that.

Tempting himself with little touches whenever he gets the chance. They’re harmless enough but he might as well be dissecting his own heart at an excruciatingly slow pace.

But he’s come to know by now that he doesn’t have much sense when it comes to you.

Jimin moves through the crowd like a phantom, passing by without so much as a second glance from anyone despite your lack of trust with his choice of attire. To others, he’s just another traveler trying to get to where they need to go. And right now, he’s shadowing you, eyes trained on the back of yours and your friend’s head. He’s got a clear view even when Jimin is a good twenty or so steps back and there’s a wall of people separating him from you, keeping well to his word that he would be discreet enough that you won’t even notice him.

He watches from a far as you and your friend are excitedly chattering away with two girls whom you have never met before as if you have always known them. The entire interaction makes his lips curl with an amused smile. Under different circ*mstances, Jimin would think it all stupid; not really understanding how ridiculously trusting you were being just because you all shared a common love for a group of musical artist yet somehow, seeing you makes it strangely wholesome.

It’s in those moments that he chances a glimpse of what humanity could be but ultimately choose not to.

Jimin eventually leaves you, weirdly confident that you’re in good hands as he hails an airport limo. One almost immediately pulls up beside him, the man hastily getting out.

“Good morning sir, where are we heading off to today?” The driver asks as he comes around to pull the door open for Jimin to duck in, gliding into the seat.

“The Ritz-Carlton, downtown.”

The man nods in acknowledgement, shutting the door once he’s sure Jimin is settled before jogging back to the driver’s seat. The drive there is quiet, something the demon is thankful for because he’s not in a particular mood to humour anyone. He takes the time to slip the black surgical mask off, finally feeling the cooler air hit against his warmer skin. He exchanges it for a pair of shades he pulls from his duffle, slipping them on before he crosses his arms, sighing deeply and sinks into the plush leather.

The traffic gets noticeably more congested the closer the car comes to the downtown area so it takes a while before the entrance to the hotel comes into view. Jimin hands off a couple of bills to the driver when he opens the door for him again, hauling his duffle bag and jacket as he steps out. The driver courteously bids him a good day but Jimin only has half the mind to offer a grunt in response, heading off into the lobby in long strides to the front desk where a man in a pristinely pressed suit greets him. He’s quickly given the keys to his room and is escorted to the lifts, the bellhop offering to take his things but Jimin waves a dismissive hand, keeping to himself as much as possible.

By the time he gets to his suite, he’s feels unreasonably weary and all but tosses his duffle bag carelessly to the foot of the king size bed along with his shades to collapse into the soft embrace of Egyptian cotton sheets. Jimin shuts his eyes for a moment, hands coming up to rub the bridge of his nose as another deep exhale leaves him.

If he was a normal human being, Jimin shouldn’t be feeling this tired since for majority of the plane ride, he had fallen into quite a deep slumber. But since he’s in fact not a human being, it only raises concerns. Lately, he’s noticed that he’s been sleeping a lot more — way more than a demon should be doing considering they don’t sleep at all (it’s viewed as more of a leisure activity to do rather than something that’s required) and if he’s not sleeping, he’s constantly feeling like he’s got a bad case of lethargy. It’s troubling and also irritating as hell, but Jimin already suspects its the unfortunate byproduct of having completed two acts of the five he needs to do.

And has no idea how to do the rest.

His eyes slip open then, brows furrowing with dark obsidian orbs glaring into the cream coloured ceiling like it would give him the answers. The second act was a stroke of luck on his part, Jimin thinks; a matter of being in the right place at the right time and for very good reasons. He can’t imagine accomplishing the rest in the same manner.

Running a hand through his hair, Jimin contemplates a little longer until he huffs out an agitated sigh. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, it won’t do him to mull over this problem endlessly, figuring that he can be at least thankful that there doesn’t seem to be any particular deadline (knock on wood). Glancing at the beside clock, he sees the red numbers reading 1:36PM and idly wonders if you’re still at the venue no doubt soaking in all the excitement and activity going on.

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, already imagining you, eyes alight with the biggest grin on your face as you try to take everything in. Finally, he hauls himself to sit up, giving his neck a few stretches before he gets off the bed to make his way to the en suite bathroom. With so much time to waste, Jimin hopes that a cold shower would help wash away a bit of his fatigue, quite literally. Besides that, he hasn’t felt any intense negative emotions from you which more than likely means everything is fine, for now.

He half-heartedly shuts the door, reaching up to grasp his shirt from the back of his neck to pull over his head. The black tee is dropped to the floor without much care, along with the rest of his clothes. He passes by the mirror, catching a glimpse of himself and though it was brief, the image reflecting back at him made him grimace all the same.

The natural glow on his skin had long since dulled, making him appear as if Jimin hadn’t seen the sun in months, the ghost of blue veins and bruises peeking from beneath made even more visible from how pale he’s become. The tattoo crest over the left side of his chest is faded, almost in a way where the ink is slowly being rubbed off a little bit more each day — another indication of his reduced powers. He’s lost a bit of weight, most noticeably around his face and although it’s defined his jawline significantly, his cheeks are at risk of hollowing out soon.

It’s only truly been a day, and yet now he is nothing more than a withering, duller version of who he’s supposed to be.

A cheap imitation.

He scoffs, a humourless sort of laugh. How ironic it is that he’s come to care more on what’s supposed to be a very superficial part of being a demon, perhaps even found meaning to.

When he steps into the clear glass shower stall, Jimin turns the water until it runs ice cold before stepping under. He inhales sharply at the first contact, the shock in the temperature hitting against his more warmer skin but he quickly grows numb to it, grateful for the way the water seems to ease the discomfort growing along his shoulder blades. Jimin doesn’t know how long he stands there, eyes shut and lulled by the sounds of the running shower beating down on him and echoing around in the enclosure.

It’s a temporary respite from his thoughts and when he finally decides to shut the water off, he feels a little more alert. He towels himself off, wrapping one around his slim waist as he heads back into the large bedroom to grab a change of clothes from his duffle.

Once he’s dressed, he dries his hair and by the time he’s done, the clock reads near five. The show starts in two and a half hours, he supposes he should get a scope of the venue. Grabbing the black surgical mask, Jimin secures the ends behind his ears, preparing to apparate to the arena when —

He stops midstep.

Ah, right.

A rush of air leaves his nose, co*cking his head as your words replay in his head. He already hears your chastising tone with them too.

He quietly chuckles to himself, then continues walking, heading to his door.

With as much discretion as he could manage (okay, he might’ve cheated here and there by cloaking himself), he makes it to the venue which wasn’t so bad of a walk from the hotel. No one pays attention to him, with the hood of his pullover drawn up he was just another faceless person in the passing crowd. It only really got trickier the closer he came to the epicentre of it all.

He sticks to the shadows and less populated spots, staying out of sight and blending in wherever he can. There are still some large crowds gathered at some of the booths, trying to take advantage of the quickly dwindling number of patrons who have already moved on to getting into the arena. Others are running as fast as their feet can carry them, racing against time in whatever it is they needed to do while it seems like eighty percent of the concert goers are in a line, excitedly chatting and impatient to have the show start. It’s a hubbub of activity, boisterous and charged with energy that even Jimin has a bit of a struggle orienting himself. So not much later, he slinks towards the side alley of the building where the crowds tend to avoid.

It grows a little quieter the further he moves down the path, the jumble of voices becoming more muffled. The asphalt paving is cracked in numerous places with some giving way to potholes that Jimin can only guess is from how often trucks carrying equipment for events pass through here, or even ones meant to empty the dumpsters pressed up against the walls. Weeds sprout long and thin against them in bunches, pushing tenaciously through the cracks and somehow still managing to grow in spite of the lack of good soil. The poor upkeep alone is enough to deter anyone from wandering back here, which means Jimin can peacefully explore the area.

His strides slow without the rushing need to remain hidden, strolling along the alley before his eyes come across a door right beside one of the large dumpsters, perfectly situated so that it’s almost concealed. It lacks any handle, the only thing visible was a metal plate ridge on the side and a silver keyhole. Jimin supposes this meant that the door opens one way, probably for employees to quickly throw out the trash but otherwise is not by any means a point of entry.

Perfect.

He takes one more glance around, makes sure no one is looking and then with all of his concentration, phases through. Immediately his senses are bombarded by the booming of the bass as well as the far off distant hustle of people, but he pushes all of it aside in trying to shake off the fuzzy haze clouding his sight and the light thrumming in his head. Jimin presses a palm to his forehead, shutting his eyes with gritted teeth until the feeling subsides and he straightens himself, a little flabbergasted.

f*ck, this is going to suck.

He pushes the disconcerting fact that phasing through a door was enough to make him dizzy, focusing on doing what he came here to do; find a loophole in security and make sure you won’t get hurt at any point during the night — easy.

With light steps, Jimin makes his way out of the corridor, coming into an area spacious enough to have golf carts driving through (no sooner had he thought that, one goes zooming by). It vaguely reminds him of an underground parking garage except less…dingy. There are a few people walking about, busy with their heads down engrossed in their phones or sheets of papers in their hands and he easily recognizes them as part of the crew from the lanyards that dangle around their neck. A pretty, pastel coloured thing that easily catches his eye against the mostly all black uniform they sport.

He walks for a bit, almost as if entranced by the muffled songs and distant cheers that echo all around him until he comes across the hallway leading to the artist waiting room. It’s much busier and noisier, people scuttling in and out with multiple voices giving orders, updates, laughing, calling out for others in Korean and…is that singing?

The more Jimin listens, the more he picks out the melodic flow of a scale being sung, ranging from high, airy lilting tones to much more deep and richer timbres. He recognizes the tunes, songs you play when you study, get ready for the morning or unconsciously hum under your breath — songs that have grown on him.

Gradually, the singing becomes louder and suddenly Jimin sees an entourage of people exiting out of a room all at once. He instinctively side steps back until he’s concealed by the shadows offered by a large pillar, continuing to watch the scene unfold in front of him that way.

They stand out amongst the many staff members crowding them and not just because they’re dressed in absurdly black sparkly suits. Hair immaculately styled and complexion as pore-less as porcelain, Jung Hoseok, otherwise known as J-Hope, strolls out adjusting his headset before brushing his hands down on his jacket, straightening it out as a woman dabs finishing powder delicately on the tip of his nose. Quick to follow is Kim Taehyung, or V, still doing vocal warm-ups as he comes to stand beside the older member to wait for the others. They’re strikingly handsome in their own distinct ways, Hoseok with his high cheekbones and swooping nose bridge that makes for an arresting side profile while Taehyung with a round face tapering down to a strong jawline and near symmetrical features makes for a face that seems too unreal to be true.

A small part of him is aware that he shouldn’t be lingering like this because the unspoken rule is that a demon should never confront or even come into close proximity of the one they’re masquerading as for very obvious reasons. It’s risky and puts him in danger but there’s a morbid curiousity that’s gnawing at him, compelling him to stay and it’s not long before he sees him.

The owner of the sweet lilting voice that sounds much like his own, yet not at the same time.

Dressed much like his waiting members, BTS’ Park Jimin emerges from the artist waiting room, one hand shoved into his pants pocket, strides so languid and purposeful that one can mistaken the plain, industrial hallway to be a high fashion catwalk instead. He’s singing softly but puts emphasis on certain phrases to get the pitch right, sometimes repeating as if he’s not satisfied with the way it sounds. He’s practically glowing, hair a halo of rich honey blond, styled and coiffed to show his face which is made up of a myriad of contradictions — soft full cheeks are paired with a sharp jaw, full lips and slightly puffy eyes that can drown anyone with a sultry gaze; the perfect balance of lust and innocence.

As a demon, even he has to admit he’s impressed.

Hoseok makes a noise of appraisal, scanning the younger over and it makes a smile bloom, eyes scrunching until they disappear before he gives a light shove to the older man’s shoulder, giggling in clear embarrassment. A playfulness takes over the small group, conversation flowing easily with a few teases thrown here and there that anyone could see the strong familial bond the boys share amongst each other.

It’s so strange, he thinks, watching them as if through a looking glass with his eyes fixated on this person who’s very much real, living out a completely different life than his, beloved by all and equally admired by many.

Someone who you love.

That alone should ignite a jealous flame that consumes him, and yet the only one who he’s spiteful of is himself.

“Oh Jimin are those new earrings?” Taehyung says, reaching a finger out to brush the thin silver chains hanging from the small hoop they’ve been threaded through.

“Ah yeah, I wanted to try out a new style so I combined two of them.”

“They look good.”

Jimin preens at the compliment, a smug grin stretching across his lips as he shakes his head a little, making the earrings twinkle in the light. As his head lolls to one side, something catches his eye for a brief second, making him straighten at attention, smile faltering. The sudden shift startles his friend.

“Why? What’s up?” Taehyung asks, eyes impossibly wide as they flit from Jimin’s face to where his friend’s gaze is trained.

The blond blinks, mouth parted to speak but finds trouble in trying to describe what he saw out of the corner of his eyes. “I— Just now, I thought I saw a person….by the pillar there. But…I couldn’t really tell.”

Boldly, Taehyung takes steps around so that he could get a better angle of the pillar but remain at a safe distance, leaning his weight fully to one side in hopes of catching whatever it is that Jimin thinks he saw, but all there is is just a shadow being cast.

“There’s nothing there Jimin-ah… Maybe you were imagining it? Are you that nervous?”


“No I’m not!” Jimin punches Taehyung lightly, the gibe taking the edge off a little but just to give himself his own peace of mind, Jimin takes a look as well, finding nothing in the space behind. He doesn’t know what to make of it however, he’s not given the time to mull over it because the rest of his group mates show up and they finally start heading to the stage lift, their eagerness and seemingly boundless energy carries him away, reminding him of other more important matters at hand.

Admittedly though, he can’t help but still feel a little in disbelief over it because he could’ve sworn there was someone watching him.

-

The show gets under way splendidly, the level of excitement palpable even from where he’s hidden. During that time, the demon has made his way to a spot right at the corner under the catwalk, the low lighting and barricade helps in making it easier for him to blend in as the silhouettes of the security guards posted around the perimeter, rarely having to conceal himself using his powers. Jimin has spotted you a couple of times, your figure peeking in between others and every time he sees you, you’re having the time of your life. The ever-changing spotlights cast pretty colours on you, dancing over your face and making the smile you had seem to radiate even more.

He finds himself caught up in watching you rather than the amazing performance thousands of other people have their eyes fixated on.

The only time he stops is when you push yourself through the crowd in order to get a better view of the idol he’s impersonating. It’s hard not to when the young man does such a brilliant job at commanding the stage, filling it up in spite of performing alone. He watches on, fascinated yet unable to for long as it only stirs up complicated feelings at having to face what he so painfully lacks.

You on the other hand, are completely enraptured; eyes focused and trying to drink in the image of him as much as they can but past the open awe and adoration, Jimin picks up on something that he can’t quite seem to place — something he can only describe as melancholy, like you’re already starting to miss the idol despite him being right in front of you. He doesn’t understand why.

As the music switches up, so does the mood as the hype level rises astronomically. The band members have the whole arena up on their feet, jumping, dancing and singing (or screaming?) to the lyrics. The atmosphere is hot and in more ways than one, with all the lights and the numerous bodies moving in one mass. Jimin swears everyone has worked up a sheen of sweat, even himself who’s yet to really move a muscle. At one point, he had actually snuck a water bottle for a drink, the growing humidity almost suffocating.

He tries to focus in on his heartbeat which seems to beat in sync to the heavy bass but the flashing lights and loud cheers make it hard, his senses bombarded. It takes a while before eventually the staccato thrumming in his chest slows until it doesn’t feel like it would burst through his ribs. It tapers off to a much steadier rhythm, almost as if he were deep in sleep.

But then it continues to slow even further.

Alarmed, Jimin’s hand flies up to press against the spot in search of a pulse, breath suddenly coming out short to find that he can barely feel it there. For a moment, he’s confused until a chill runs through him that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand. His immediate reaction is to look for you, eyes searching frantically in the crowd. It frustratingly takes a while as he realizes he’s lost you a bit but eventually he finds you and what he sees makes his stomach drop.

You’re slightly hunched over like you’re fighting to keep yourself upright on weak knees, standing out so clearly amongst the sea of moving bodies. When you manage to straighten yourself, he catches sight of your flushed cheeks and heaving chest, the sheen of sweat reflecting off of the strobing light and not helping with your feverish look.

And then your eyes roll back and you’re tipping over.

His mouth falls open and the shout that slips past falls on deaf ears, smothered by the music and incessant screaming. Jimin’s reaching out before he could even think about the risk of being found, his panic driving him as he sees you being swallowed by the crowd, the bodies intermingling and threatening to close in around you and make him lose sight of you. It all seems to be happening in slow motion, but what he doesn’t realize is that he’s the one who’s causing the time distortion, his desperation manifested.

In those long seconds, JImin moves purely on instincts, teleporting himself in short bursts to reach you and soon as he feels his hand close around your wrist, he apparates the both of you with every ounce of magic he can summon.

There’s a whistling of air in his ears and the next second, he’s crash landing against a brick wall. His back hits it hard, crumpling to the ground instantly and he lets out a low groan, teeth gritting as his eyes screws shut at the pounding in his head. Everything aches, his body screaming at him from the strain but the only thing Jimin cares about is the fact that he’s managed to take most of the brunt force of his sloppy landing from you who’s safely cradled in his arms.

Fighting through the pain, he immediately directs his attention down at you, blinking away the black spots in his vision hastily.

“Hey…!” Jimin calls out, voice gravelly and still breathless. He shoves down the mask covering his mouth, the first touch of cooler air a relief against his warm, damp skin and it feels like he’s properly breathing now. He cups a hand to your clammy cheek, not liking how the colour seems to have been drained from them as he checks for a pulse, which thankfully is still strong. He brushes the hair away from your face, propping you up in a more comfortable position, softly murmuring words of encouragement even if you might not hear them.

Jimin’s not exactly sure if he should be doing something more drastic than simply hope that you would wake on your own but luckily he didn’t have to resort to such measures when he sees your lids begin to flutter. Slowly, your eyes slip open and though you’re clearly very out of it still, Jimin already feels the pressure on his chest alleviate.

“Y/N….? Hey Y/N, can you hear me?”

It takes a minute before the focus returns in your gaze a little more, but Jimin waits patiently. He takes the time to do a once over on you, noting that your complexion is gradually getting better and from the looks of it, you didn’t seem to sustain any external injuries, much to his relief.

“Ji…Jimin…?” Your voice comes out raw and cracked, drawing his attention at the first call of his name.

No, not yours.

His brows furrow as he pushes away the intrusive thought, his first priority being to make sure you were okay. Jimin uncaps the water bottle in his hoodie pocket, gently feeding it to you until you found your strength, taking and gulping down the rest at an impressive speed.

“Slow down cherub…”

At least you were resilient, he thinks.

The next few moments were spent letting you rest and recuperate. When you were more clear headed, he fills you in on how you ended up out here in the side alley of the arena however, what soon followed after wasn’t something that he had meant to happen.

Maybe it was partially his fault, not truly realizing how high his emotions ran but the way you had shot to your feet, legs only barely holding you up and your first thought was getting back to the arena as quickly as you can, completely disregarding the state you were in all for the sake of…what? Getting a glimpse of your idol? At what cost?

Whatever it was, he would not stand for your recklessness and blind loyalty to the point where you will endanger yourself.

But no matter how hard he tries, his words doesn’t reach you and the mounting frustration builds until it has the both of you screaming at each other.

“Can you just lay off?! I’m fine!”

“You can barely hold yourself up! I’m not letting you put yourself in danger!”

“I DON’T CARE!”

“Y/N LOOK AT ME!”

That was the last straw for Jimin, hands grasped on either of your shoulders as if he could shake some sense into you. You’re both panting, out of breath from the exertion but you’re finally looking at him. He takes in the way your pupils tremble, whether from fright or from nerves, and the way they shine as if with unshed tears.

Why?

There’s a desperation in them, so intense that it almost scares Jimin but no matter how much he gazes into your irises, the question still remains….

“Why….?”

He whispers unconsciously, the one word ringing loud between you, even above the echoing cheers. You don’t respond immediately, overtaken by a flurry of emotions that flit through your eyes so quickly that Jimin has trouble discerning them. Your mouth opens and closes a few times, sentences starting but dying before you can get the rest of the words trapped in your throat out until ultimately, you give up.

You turn away, eyes downcast as he hears you utter weakly, “Forget it…Please, you— you wouldn’t understand….”

He freezes, the statement seeming to pierce through him with a flooding of realizations; the images of you all starstruck as you watch Jimin, the idol, performing come rushing back to him so vividly it’s like he’s reliving it again. And it’s then that he is reminded of the fact —

It’s Jimin who dances with such poise and grace.

Jimin who sings with a voice that entrances thousands, millions.

Jimin who shines on stage, with a sweet smile, a gentle aura and a warm heart.

Not him.

No, he won’t ever be as good as the original Jimin. Especially not now, given how he’s not even sure what he is anymore.

He notices your hand clenching tightly at your side, how withdrawn you are from him and it’s made clear that he's not winning this fight – maybe even foolishly thinking he had that chance to begin with.

He steps back, away from you in resignation, acceptance. “You’re right…. I wouldn’t…”

With nothing more to say, you leave and he only watches until you disappear from his sights. Left to his thoughts, he retreats back into the dark of night, a place of comfort and familiarity.

Perhaps it’s better this way, to have you long for and love the image of idol Jimin, someone much more fitting to be a light in your life and for him to remain the shadow that follows you from afar. This way, you'll be much happier.

Even when, deep down, he wishes so selfishly for you to call him by his true name.

Yang Zi and Deng Lun

So I’ve been having a hard time trying to move on from Ashes of Love, and what I’ve been curious about is the lack of IRL interactions between Yang Zi and Deng Lun despite them being long-time collaborators, if not friends. They both participated in a lot of variety shows, just never together.

They’ve only appeared together publicly on 5 occasions (or at least 5 that I’ve seen): on Happy Camp in 2013 to promote Flowers in Fog, at 2 award shows, at an event to promote Ode to Joy 2 (though their interactions were minimal to none), and at a 2018 Oppo event.

I’ve been wondering why they didn’t do any promo events for AOL, or why they never sang a duet together on stage.

I then did some digging (using my limited literacy in Chinese) and came across the infamous instagram incident in September 2018 just after AOL finished airing, which caused fan wars that have persisted til this day. People are questioning how genuine their “friendship” really is, and their fans apparently hate each other, which makes it hard for them to even be in the same room together without being mercilessly harassed online.

The incident didn’t seem to leave any hard feelings between them though, since they seemed to be friendly and cordial enough at the Weibo awards in early 2019 (with Deng Lun even coming up to Yang Zi’s seat to playfully flip her dress to get her attention and then sit next to her), and they spoke fondly of each other in separate interviews later that year too, but their fans can’t seem to let the incident go. And being two of the biggest stars in China, the longevity of their fame depends on them being able to read the room, which in this case is their respective fanbases.

This also makes me believe that we’re not going to see them in another drama together any time soon. I’d love to be proven wrong about this, but based on the circ*mstances, I don’t know if they’d think that another collaboration is a good career move for them.

1. The first reason is an obvious one. Their next collaboration is unlikely to match the success of AOL. AOL is kind of like a one-hit-wonder. You usually only have that kind of runaway success once (unless you’re Yang Mi or Zhao Liying). I don’t see them being in another fantasy drama, since people would be making too many comparisons. They would have to do something different that they haven’t done before (kind of like Tang Yan and Luo Jin who have collaborated 5 times, and each time their roles and relationships were completely different).

2. I don’t see Deng Lun repeating co-stars (besides the fact that he collaborated with YZ twice already). He’s already spending this year focusing on variety shows, which means that his next drama isn’t going to be out in a while (depending on when he even decides to take on a new project). So, his body of work is already quite limited, meaning that he probably wouldn’t want it dominated by a single co-star. He also pairs up with the biggest actresses trending at the time (e.g., Sun Yi, Dilireba, Zhao Liying, Ma Sichun, etc) so I think he’ll continue this pattern and pair up with whichever rising actress has the public favour 2 or so years from now. (Unpopular opinion: That is, if he is still in demand 2 years from now.“Fresh meat” actors usually don’t stay in the spotlight for very long. They shine hella bright, but also burnout hella fast. They’re not very sustainable tbh. Lin Gengxin was similarly in a ton of variety shows when he peaked, and now I barely hear anything about him. Their staying power is fleeting. Also, while variety shows might keep you relevant in the short term, they’re not as memorable as dramas).

3. I also don’t know if Yang Zi would repeat co-stars. It seems like she’s aiming to have at least one hit drama a year, so I would imagine that she would be more picky about her projects. But at the same time, I feel like she would be more open than DL to have another collaboration with him (though since we aren’t them, we can never know what they think). She usually takes on several dramas a year, so I would imagine that she wouldn’t mind having a repeat collaboration since she already has enough other projects to diversify her portfolio.

4. As much as Deng Lun says that he admires YZ and acknowledges her hand in his success, I also don’t know if he wants to depend on her to keep his career alive (I imagine that his fans probably want to crucify me for saying this, but good thing that no one reads rants on tumblr). In both of his collaborations with YZ, it transformed his career and gave him a huge boost in popularity. So he probably wants to avoid that association. Don’t get me wrong, I think he’s a good actor and has a ton of potential (way better than other “fresh meat” actors before him), but I feel like he’s currently being pigeon-holed as an“idol” actor. And with a lack of notable acting projects in the near future, it’s a little concerning). He needs to take on more challenging and meaningful roles, like slice of life dramas, or smart historical/political dramas. He needs to diversify.

5. Top Billing. Yang Zi got top billing in Ashes of Love because she was more popular at the time, was signed first, and was the one who recommended DL for the role in the first place. But now that they rival each other in popularity, I don’t know whom top billing would go to. After seeing how heated fans got when debating who should get top billing for Love Designer and next year’s The Golden Hairpin, I feel like studios and producers would be wary of casting 2 mega A-list actors.

That isn’t to say all hope of another collaboration is lost. They were recently in a pepsi commercial together (although it doesn’t look like they shot it together), but their faces appear next to each other on advertising posters, meaning that their partnering still has marketing value.

I love them both, and I’m just trying to pull myself out of this rabbit hole and distance myself from them by facing the music and the reality of their professional relationship in order to tear myself away from their characters in AOL.

I could go on another rant about how Deng Lun is nothing like Xufeng, and how Yang Zi’s interaction with Deng Lun seems to be mostly on a professional level, especially when you compare it with her unfiltered interactions with her childhood BFF Zhang Yishan and her shy interactions with her ex-BF Qin Jun Jie, but that’s another controversial rant that I won’t get into here.

Thoughts, corrections, and addition input are welcome, thanks.

All the questions about widow. Except the ones where the answer is obvious, you can skip over those, i guess. 🙃

This is long so under a cut :)

Also spoilers if anyone cares, including for the chapters posted today (9 and 10).

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

It was actually Jodie Comer’s comment about not wanting to play an assassin because of the leather and high heels, which got me thinking about the MCU and how they could have done more with their Russian Assassin and they didn’t.So I just decided to mash the two together. I don’t think I’ve made as much use of the MCU as I could have, and I don’t think they’re super relevant, but you can see earlier that I tried to lean into that more (I did think it would be funny to make Raymond the Winter Soldier, but I thought it would probably only be funny to me.)

I wanted to explore a more‘sympathetic’ version of Villanelle for Eve, in saying she was made this way (although I guess it could turn out that way on the show depending what we learn about her family next season), but I haven’t ended up playing with that idea much as her and Eve aren’t having heart-to-hearts, and I don’t want to woobify V.

It’s mainly from Eve’s POV and I feel like Villanelle’s POV would ruin a bit of the mystery, so I’ve used her quite sparingly.

2: What scene did you first put down?

Um it was actually Bill dying! (Sorry!). The whole thing was very different though - Bill came to collect Eve from the hotel and Villanelle busted in and threw him off the balcony lol. Poor Bill :(

3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

Hmm.

“Evedoes feel a little kidnapped, now, as much as you can when eating chips, atwinge of fear at being unable to contact anyone else. Kidnapped-adjacent, shethinks, if that’s a thing. It annoys her.”

“It’salmost intimate, the way neither of them is put together, neither of them attheir best.”

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

‘Are you going to say goodbye?’ Carolyn says. ‘Terribly rudeto just hang up.’

‘So, the truth is that Eve Polastri doesn’tlie, other people just don’t act how they should?’ - Villanelle.

5: What part was hardest to write?

The space between Eve learning she needed to leave and the‘Lazy Susan’ incident (which is now my favourite chapter ending).

The motivation for seeing Faith again, and the way V reacted, were really hard to fit in organically, especially as I knew they’d meet next chapter and I wanted to keep writing that. Originally, V was much more reactive to the news, and I had the bit where she rips out the woman’s heart at the end (drama queen that she is).

But then I realised I’d given myself a gift with Eve’s fake name, and even if the chapter was no fun to write, I really wanted to nail that reveal.

6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?

It’s multi-chapter and long, and the central idea (Eve feeling more sympathy for Villanelle because she’s been‘made’ and had an obviously hard childhood) has not really materialised at all. Normally I have a really concrete idea of what I want to explore and achieve, whereas this has evolved so much.

It’s also much more plot/action oriented than my other fics, which are a bit more introspective (although ymmv on Thirty-Five). It makes it fun to write, as instead of doing too much navel-gazing I can write a bit of humour, a bit of drama, a bit of action and not get weighed down by the feels so much.

It’s also the first fic I put up, and the one I keep coming back to!

7: Where did the title come from?

Tbh I was originally tinkering with the idea of making it a fake-out and having Niko die (so Eve was the Widow) but that’s probably not going to happen. I don’t like killing him when it’s more satisfying for Eve to just leave him. Or like, never go home to him again.

8: Did any real people or events inspire any part of it?

Only the fact that I couldn’t eat Skittles for a few years as a kid because I got food poisoning after eating them. Also the ‘You can’t steal a car’ line made me think of the anti-piracy spoof from the IT crowd, but I didn’t think Villanelle would know it so I couldn’t get her to say‘You wouldn’t shoot a policeman’ :(

9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

Yeah, as I mentioned, it was quite different when I wrote some of the main scenes eg Bill dying, Raymond’s death (Villanelle originally helped a lot more), Eve and V were meant to have kissed by now (as Faith and Eve)… there’s a lot of darlings I killed in this fic.

10: Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story?

I love them.

11: What do you like best about this fic?

I like that it allows me to write (or attempt to write!) the humour and the drama of the show from a bit of a different angle. I love all of Eve and Villanelle’s interactions, and so getting to write a lot of them together is great, in the same way that Thirty-Five was fun to write.

(I also like that you like it so much!)

12: What do you like least about this fic?

I think it starts too slow. In the context of the broader fic, I think it works, but I feel like I could have had a punchier start.

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

I listen to everything and anything while writing, and instrumental music (generally the Battlestar Galactica soundtrack) when I’m editing. But Florence + the Machine, Stromae, The Jezabels and Amanda Palmer have been on a rotating playlist.

Florence and The Jezabels make me feel calm, sometimes a little sad, which helps when you’re looking for a bit of depth. Stromae is a bit more upbeat with a twinge of anger, which is good for the action-y scenes or the ‘funny’ scenes, and Amanda Palmer marries black humour and anger together so well that I enjoy listening to her when I have a snappy scene to nail.

I don’t think there’s a real soundtrack for this fic - just something with a good drum beat from Chapter 5 on though.

14: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?

Not really? I just want readers to enjoy it, I don’t mind if it’s not educational. Oh wait. There is a petrol station chain in France called Total Petrol.

15: What did you learn from writing this fic?

Phew, so much. I’m really learning how to kill my darlings. It’s really challenged me in regards to making sure the journey is organic - I can tend to focus too much on where I want the characters to be, but it’s not satisfying if they get there without any kind of realism/struggle.So for example changing Raymond’s death was hard, but it just didn’t work with the 25000 words before it so it had to go.

I think I’m also learning where my strengths lie. I generally have a sparse way of writing where the imagery is there to set a tone or share an idea - which you can’t really do with an action story. So I think in the early chapters I struggled a bit to give enough information about surroundings without making it an info dump (like who really cares about the layout of a room?). Now that they’re together and I can let the dialogue lead the story it’s a bit easier to work out what people need to know and what they don’t.

Legion Chapter 21 “Morning After”-Thoughts – SPOILERS!!!

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SPOILER TERRITORY

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The more I think about this one, the more I’m wondering if we’re looking at two mutant masters of manipulation, both of whom have all the power in the world but neither the capacity nor desire to see the consequences of their actions, and the folks who lie somewhere in the middle of their carnage and are struggling to take sides and figure things out. (Since Farouk has not only a few years on David but a few centuries, it’s only fair that I’m harder on him, as he should know better! 😏) Okay, fine, we have Syd declaring about David, “He thinks he’s the victim,” to which Farouk says something along the lines of, “Yeah, isn’t that always the way it goes?” and I couldn’t help but flash back to Chapter 11, where he’s presenting himself to David as a benevolent king of a relatively happy kingdom (or so he thinks, idk), the misunderstood victim of David’s mean old daddy who just butted into a situation he didn’t understand. (Admittedly, after D3′s invasion of David’s commune in Chapter 20, this is taking on an entirely new meaning!) On the subject of Chapter 11, David’s “Wait...after what you did to me when I was a baby, now I’m supposed to feel sorry for you?” is a note-worthy parallel to Syd’s “I’m supposed to see you as the victim after what you did to me?” in Chapter 21, and Syd is having as much trouble helping David understand and seeing himself as anything but a victim as David had trouble understanding and seeing Farouk as a victim. So I thought Farouk’s response was, frankly, kind of rich under the circ*mstances; how can everyone expect David to see his own flaws when they fail to or refuse to see their own? Sorry, but until further notice and/or revelations, I still stand by this.

That being said, once we finally get the lowdown of the Farouk/Xavier showdown, perhaps some perspective will finally be seen. Gotta say that I’m looking forward to that.

Syd’s “We need to talk” to Farouk (usually that phrase has incredibly serious implications, both as used from David to Clark in Chapter 8 and Syd to David in Chapter 19) made me wonder if we may be looking at the potential Clark/Syd turn on Farouk down the line, or at least if she’s (rightly) suspicious over how easily David slipped through their fingers and/or Farouk’s potential involvement, since David tipped her off about her killing him twice. Again, nice how Farouk pinned it all on Switch; he didn’t even hint at their astral plane interaction with Syd! And the creepiness of that “I will teach you to lie...”-line -- 🤮 But depending on whether or not I’m right about the circ*mstances behind Syd’s potential “for real”-confrontation with David, I think there was some significant foreshadowing there in terms of how a successful trap will finally be sprung -- not the means by which it will be executed, but how she may ultimately get him within...oh, let’s just call it (MASSIVE SPOILER THEORY ALERT) “touching distance.” We shall see... (END MASSIVE SPOILER THEORY ALERT)

Also, I’m wondering if a certain Chapter 15 exchange between Lenny and Syd, in which the former insisted to the latter than Farouk raped her (the now-infamous “You’re the song they sing in a hostage crisis”-classic delivered by Syd), is taking on a whole new meaning for Syd when she complains to Farouk about David’s “victim mentality,” especially when Farouk turns around and suggests to Syd that she should essentially play the Mata Hari with David and more or less seduce him into complacency rather than coming directly at him with guns blazing? (Okay, fine -- I get her “Hell hath no fury”-mentality, and I get Farouk’s “Catch more flies with honey than vinegar”-approach, and while both points are taken, they are still hard pills to swallow as I struggle to keep up with all sides.) I hate asking questions like this in the name of fairness, but I can’t really look at all of this and just blindly yell “Go, Syd! get him good!” the way NH seems to be implying that I should! Yeah, David’s screwed up royally, and yeah, he’s going to potentially screw up even more royally, but the constant and convenient playing of Farouk and Syd’s responses to it aren’t much better imo, and I’m not so sure they can’t or won’t single-handedly destroy the world themselves at the rate they’re going! Besides, with regards to Lenny’s accusations, it doesn’t make Farouk right by comparison, especially in the name of “age before beauty” and “with age comes wisdom” and all that jazz.

Good grief, all this Charlie Brown-music -- am I looking at the potential for more deletions from my iTunes account by the end of the season?!? hope not!!!

As far as I’m concerned, Clark is now officially a jerk...and I’m not using the word “jerk”!

I also think they missed a massive op to make a “flying Squirrel”-joke! Or even a group (such as Lenny’s van gathering, for example) witnessing Squirrel’s landing and having a reaction something like this:

David vs. Cary: I’m getting the impression that DS and BI really hit it off on the set! Love the chemistry and quasi-comedic timing between Dan and Bill; this made Chapter 11 one of my favorite eps, and while the relationship of their characters by Chapter 21 is more than a little strained. that reparte is as present as ever when David abducts Cary. (The Cary-lover in me thought this kind of sucked and tbh is still struggling a little, but then again, just wtf was D3 thinking leaving him unguarded in the car, along with his fancy and expensive equipment in a potentially dangerous area?!? what, they couldn’t have at least one lousy Vermillion keeping watch to alert him of any potential danger?!? just sayin’...) David takes a moment to vent a little (imo understandable) venom about that S2 finale bait-and-switch that has made things -- and by “things,” I mean David! -- a lot worse. Cary’s take on it --- “I saw it as more of an intervention!” -- was a nice touch, but somehow an “intervention” complete with armed soldiers and a “Surrender to treatment or die!”-ultimatum as “old brain-eating enemy” hovers about in full view to really rub salt in the wound seems a teensy bit heavy-handed imo. It did then, it does now, and the only thing David has truly learned from that experience is to not only (cough) adopt that X-Files adage of “Trust No One” but to up the ante where invasive uses of telepathy and mind control are concerned, if you’ll allow me a second to conceal my “shock and horror” at such a response. (Especially since part of the problem is that David’s sanity at the time was and is now highly questionable, and oh gee, what else could possibly stabilize an unstable mutant, and how could this plan possibly go wrong?!?) Wow, congrats, D3 -- your idea of “intervention” only made things a lot worse, and you’re about as good at squelching the potential end of the world as you are at safeguarding your most valuable assets! And ironically, just as D3′s attempts at “preventing the end of the world” are only messing things up further and causing more friction, David’s attempts at “fixing things” may also prove more complications than improvements. One would hope there’s an Occam’s Razor-esque solution to all of this, but right now, emotions and adrenaline seem to be running way too high on all sides to really solve the numerous problems!

Also, loved Cary’s interaction with Switch at the end and that all-too-brief shot of David in glasses! And I may be a little low on Syd at present, admittedly, but I did enjoy her “David...what did you do?” as kind of a sly wink at both Logan and Dark Phoenix, since “What did you do?” is uttered by Xavier in the former and aimed at Xavier in the latter. So nice little “Like father, like son” Easter egg (”A delusion begins,” yadda yadda yadda) they managed to sneak in there.

Anyway, just a few thoughts...