#I did everything I could think of but it was so miserable

[caughtthedarkness93]

There are better stories that'll give you a similar experience to Harry Potter and won't line the pockets of someone who is doing everything in her power to make the lives of vulnerable people miserable.

For example, I recommended both Persona 5 and Ikenfell a lot around the time Hogwarts Legacy came out.

Persona 5 for capturing the feel of the interplay of daily school life and relationships alongside a big, overarching fantasy mystery with a very different flavor, but a similar appeal to what the Harry Potter stories did. It's an excellent game with themes are similar, but much better executed and more resonant than Harry Potter was. It's not perfect and there is values dissonance, but the story has some incredible twists and turns and the characters are fantastically written.

Ikenfell is much closer to the tone of Harry Potter itself and explicitly about a school that teaches magic. It has a score by the same duo that scored Steven Universe, and within the first few minutes of the game your player character gets hit on by another woman and makes a nonbinary friend. Ikenfell feels like it was made by people who used to love Harry Potter, get fed up with Rowling's bullshit, and made a game that was similar, but downright confrontational in how upfront it is with its queer themes and characters.

You could also watch Mary and the Witch's Flower, a film by Studio Ponoc. It was founded by ex-Ghibli animators and you can very easily tell in this film. The art style, designs, and other stuff feels very Ghibli, and as such, this film feels like what would happen if 90s or 2000s Ghibli made a magic school film. It's breathtaking to look at and a delightful time.

Any of these would be a good pick to watch or play rather than Harry Potter.

Sometimes it is important to let go of the things you love, even things that are important to you. I'm practiced at it at this point. Two of the artists who are incredibly influential to the kind of writer I am - Neil Gaiman and Joss Whedon - both turned out to be people who have done things I cannot abide. Firefly was a huge part of my life for a long time, and I remember finishing The Ocean at the End of the Lane in less than 24 hours because it gripped me so hard. Without these artists I wouldn't be who I am today. In fact, their work is part of what taught me not to tolerate the kinds of things both of these men have done.

If you still like Harry Potter, think about what the text tells you. Do not stand for prejudice and injustice. Do not allow those corrupted by hate to hold power. Stand up to cruelty. Stand against petty bullies.

The values that these stories preach are clear - they say to tell people like JK Rowling to piss off, and to stop ignoring her heinous beliefs.

Welp, if JK Rowling being executive producer and therefore being fully involved in the show wasn't enough for people to boycott, then here's HBO basically saying they don't care JK Rowling is a bigot from hell who literally helped lead a harassment campaign of lies against Imane Khalif in her transphobia and obsession with women being terf's standards of women alongside posting harassment against trans people on twitter at times, they gonna stand by her, while using the excuse, "personal views". Hmm, yes, personal views- that's one way to uh, call what the fuck JK Rowling comes out with a-lot- last I checked personal views do come with consquiences if said out loud....a thousand times in JK's case and still counting....especially if they hurt people, but hey, if it means making another Harry Potter project to milk, just let it fucking be I guess.

[ddejavvu]

Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Five) (18+) / Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post

WC: 7.0k / navigation / inbox

A/N: Thank you all for waiting for this chapter! I know it took me longer to finish this one than it did the others but it's the longest chapter so far, and I also had a lot of major life events go down in the time between this chapter and last. I appreciate each and every single one of you who stayed patient with me, and I hope that this chapter and that the rest to come are worth the wait :) <3

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You’re doing a terrible job at paying attention to where you’re going as you take the elevator, jamming your finger against the 12 button so hard it hurts. Pizza is on the twelfth floor, and you’re hoping Daniel will be there early like you so that you can forget about Jake and his tyrannical rule. 

It’s clear as day to you; Jake thinks he has control over you just the same way he has control over the girls that drool over him at the Hard Deck. He thinks one glance will melt your brain into mush, but it won’t. It doesn’t, and you’re not letting the cockiest man you know believe he’s won you over. Especially one that you work with. If anyone found out- if any of your fellow aviators knew that you’d succumbed to Jake’s charms… you’d risk losing the respect you’ve fought hard to earn on the tarmac. You’re not letting your career take a nosedive because Jake won’t stop bragging about getting his dick wet. He doesn’t get a say in your life if he has nothing genuine to contribute to it. You know him well enough to know that caving in and fucking would be the worst decision of your life, and you refuse to let him feel like he’s won you like a prize. You’re standing up for yourself; if he can shit-talk Daniel, you can shit-talk Miss Melons.

Your skin prickles with annoyance the more you think about the woman that had approached you both- seriously, did she not consider that she was being intrusive and rude? You assume Jake has snagged her away from her roommate by now, and they’re probably having a better time than you are. 

Everything feels unfair, down to the coincidental roommate placement. It’s like the universe had heard you needed a break, and wanted to punish you for it.

Cracking open your book helps, but it takes you a while to get into the groove. You’re sitting poolside across from the pizza place, eyes glancing from page to parlor every once in a while to check for a certain bearded man. The main lead is compelling, and your stomach soars as you imagine Daniel in a cowboy hat. You’d save that horse.

Peace is hard to find while sitting poolside on a cruise, but chaos is actually the perfect white noise for you to read, and your concentration isn’t broken until a shadow falls over your lounge chair. You glance up, but it’s not the man you’d wanted to see.

“Hey.” Jake’s already frowning, his face apprehensive like he thinks you’ll scream at him to get away. You want to, but you don’t want to cause a scene.

“What, Hangman?”

“I’m not trying to control you.” He pushes despite seeing your gaze back on your book, “I just don’t think you’re meant to be with Daniel. But I shouldn’t have given you a hassle for doing the same thing to me. I just… I do it because-”

He stops short, glancing sideways at a man running despite the clear no running sign on the lifeguard tower. You decide to help him in his moment of need.

“Because you’re used to women who let you walk all over them. Even if you’re not trying to control me, you’re used to having that control. It’s familiar for you, so you expect it, even if you don’t know you’re doing it. But I’m not like that. You can’t keep me waiting on you.”

The scoff he lets out is accompanied by an expression that looks truly pained, “That ain’t it at all. But forget it. Don’t worry about why I do it. I just thought maybe you were doin’ it to me for the same reasons. But never mind. I’ll shut up about Daniel. Truce?”

You glare up at him, book still open in your lap. He extends an uncharacteristically helping hand, and you wait a truly uncomfortable amount of time before taking it and shaking once.

“Truce.”

He takes the chair beside you, stretched out in the sun. Unfortunately, it seems like your reading time is over as his head turns to you, “So, Dudley showed up yet?”

“He’s coming for lunch.” You cling to your novel, trying desperately to ignore Jake and his instantly broken promise, “What about Melon girl, they weren’t ripe enough for you?”

“She wasn’t my type.” He starts, and there’s a heavy silence before he continues, “I don’t like a woman who thinks it’s fun to get between a couple.”

The sideways glance you send Hangman, the ‘I-told-you-so’ smirk, is lethal.

“Anyways.” He continues, tone more casual now, “Fancy a swim, darlin’?”

“I’ll read instead,” You offer, “But you have fun, Hangman.”

“Party Pooper,” He accuses, standing from the lounge chair he’s occupying and stretching briefly, “You’re an absolute mood-killer. No fun, the most boring person on this boat.”

“I’m about to be more of one: have you put sunscreen on?”

“Nope,” He grins, “You volunteering to do the honors, you sleazy thing?”

“Absolutely not. But you can use the stuff in my bag.” You nod at your tote bag, “Don’t use it all, though.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jake nods, folding into a seat on the edge of the lounge chair beside yours, “So, what’s going on in that book, they boning yet?”

“Mhm.” You nod absently as Jake begins smearing sunscreen over his arms and legs, “Real sexy stuff.”

“I’ve got somethin’ sexier for you.”

“It’s a porn book, Hangman,” You clarify, in case he’s forgotten, “I’m trying to read porn. Leave me alone.”

“There’s porn right here!” He calls, arms out to show off his impressively tanned and toned chest, a thick layer of sunscreen giving it a sheen that glistens in the light. As reluctant as you are to admire anything about Jake, you can’t lie; he has a body worth ogling. But you will not ogle it.

“This porn’s better,” You hum, glancing up at Jake through your lashes, deceptively inviting, “This guy’s got a cowboy hat on.”

“I’ve got a million and one cowboy hats,” Jake insists, slowly inching towards you and away from the edge of the pool, “Is that really all it takes, darlin’? ‘Cause I can slap one on in seconds, if that’s what you’re after. ‘Even brought one with me in case my roommate was into it.”

“Mm, maybe,” You let him get closer, excitement clearly swirling in his eyes as he advances towards your chair. He doesn’t notice the shifting of your feet until it’s too late and one is shoving firmly against his chest, knocking him off balance and sending him tumbling backwards into the pool.

There’s not anyone in his immediate vicinity besides you, so you take the brunt of the splash, but it’s worth it.

“But I like it better when the hat’s on a real gentleman!” You call, laughter interrupting your words as Jake emerges from the pool well and truly soaked, shaking water out of his hair. He’s been thoroughly underwater trained, so he’d been able to catch his breath in time despite the surprise of it all, and there’s no real harm done besides the initial splash.

“You dirty rotten minx,” He calls, water dripping from his short hair into his eyes, “You lured me in with the promise of cowboy hat sex just to push me in the pool?”

“I can’t believe you fell for it!” You’re still laughing, but maybe this bout of giggles is only to annoy him, “That’s, like, the oldest trick in the book. Well, maybe besides the cowboy hat sex thing. But you shouldn’t have gotten so close!”

He braces his elbows on the wall of the pool, the border surely burning his skin. But he stares at you regardless, “I thought you were finally givin’ in.”

“It’d take a lot more than a cowboy hat to make me give in, Jake.” You laugh, turning back to your book, “Like, a full personality transplant.”

Jake hears Danica’s words repeated back to him in his head, ‘Show, don’t tell’.

“Noted. I’ll look into one’uh those,” He quips, smile sarcastic and empty as he resorts to swimming alone, “Hey, when you’re done with that chapter, you should join me.”

“No.”

“Alright.”

You glance away from the book’s pages at Hangman’s unusual, immediate acceptance of your refusal. But he lifts himself out of the water- no stairs, no ladder, only his forearms against the deck, and your stomach sinks as you realize he might be playing a game of wills with you.

Instead, he sits beside you again, this time facing away from you, “Will you rub some sunscreen on my back?”

You want to say no. You would, if he were only asking to feel your hands on him. And maybe that’s part of it, but you also know that as much as he tans, he could burn, and his back is the only part of himself that he can’t reach. You’d want someone to do you the solid too, so you sigh and set your book aside.

“Fine. But you owe me.”

“Mhm.” He nods, passing you the sunscreen, “I’ll rub it wherever you want, Y/N.”

You whack him upside the head with the bottle, and when he hisses in pain and pitches forwards, you squirt some of the lotion onto your palm and begin applying it to the broad, tanned, muscled expanse of his back.

You’re no masseuse, but apparently you’re rubbing all the right places, because Jake lets out grunts and groans that are borderline pornographic. If they were coming from anyone else, you might have squirmed in your seat, but each one sends your eyes rolling skywards as you cover Jake’s skin in goopy sun lotion.

“Damn, you’re good.” Jake grunts as you dig into a knot beneath his shoulder blade, “Do that again?”

“I’m putting sunscreen on you, Jake, not working out muscle tension.”

“Oh, come on, just a little more?” He pleads, turning so that he can glance at you from the side of his gaze, eyes shining in prayer.

You dig extra hard into his muscle, and you take some sort of wicked pleasure in the way that his resulting groan is more of a pained yelp than something of enjoyment. 

“There, Hangman.” You whack the middle of his back, between his shoulder blades, “You’re all oiled up.”

“Aren’t you glad you were the one to get to do it?” Jake grins blindingly, and you bury your nose in your book again to avoid answering his question.

“Oh, you can stick your face in that book all you want,” Jake drawls, and you hear the displacement of the water he steps in as he lowers himself into the pool, gracefully and by choice this time, “But I know you liked having your hands all over me, darlin’.”

You want to gripe something back- something witty and cutting that will tear him down where he stands, but he’s turned away from you, already submerging himself to begin swimming laps. You admire his dedication to exercise even while on vacation- you have no plans to visit the gym in the lower decks.

Jake sees the diving board just as you do, and you keep him in your peripheral vision as he climbs out of the pool to make his way up the ladder. Your novel is begging to be read, but your eyes stick firm on one fitting word- ‘abdomen’ so that you can watch Jake from the corner of your eye as he prepares to dive.

Fortunately, you don’t need to continue the ruse of reading because Jake bellows from across the deck, “Y/N, look!”

You’re met with a grin when you look up at him, his arms raised above his head and joined flush together in diving position, “I’m gonna dive- watch me.”

“I’m watching.” You call, injecting your voice with as much disinterest as you can manage without feeling guilty, “This feels like babysitting, Hangman.”

He dives instead of quipping back, and it’s an impressive one, not that you’ll sing his praises for it. He comes up on the side of the pool closest to you, arms flinging an arc of water onto the concrete before you.

“Was it good?” He asks, panting slightly, hanging onto the wall.

“Yes,” You reply, a sickly sweet smile on your face as you condescend to him, “You did so good, honey.”

“Shut up,” He sends a wave of water splashing over your sandals, and you can’t be mad at him after all the teasing you’ve been inflicting upon him.

“I’ve been workin’ on my diving,” He goes back to swimming around, this time more casual as he keeps his head above the water to speak with you, “My nieces back home are learnin’ to swim so I’ve been in the pool a lot lately. Anytime they drag me in there I dive in and splash them.”

His arms cut through the water with strength and ease, confident strokes as you mull over his words. The image of Jake urging a toddler in floaties to cross a 3-foot gap into his arms is- endearing, not that you’ll admit it. You hum in acknowledgement, and tuck back into your book.

There’s not many people in the pool this early- most are probably still in bed with a hangover and a mess to clean up - and it’s large to boot, so there’s plenty of room. Your eyes drift left and catch sight of a jacuzzi, and suddenly your beach chair seems to pale in comparison.

Okay, you won’t join Jake in the pool, but you’ll relax for a couple of minutes in the jacuzzi. Just until Daniel gets here.

Jake doesn’t notice that you’ve stood until your chair is empty, and you have a perfect view of him floundering, scanning the entire deck until he spots you half-submerged in the hot tub.

You get to laugh at him again, and he grants you a good-natured grin instead of getting annoyed.

“I thought you’d finally found what’s-his-name,” Jake swims over to the separation wall that keeps the hot water parted from the cold, “Mind if I join you, Y/N?”

“Only if you’re- careful!” You shriek, trying desperately to protect the pages of your book from his sopping wet skin as he scales the barrier, “Hangman, if this book gets wet, you’re replacing it for me.”

“Alright, alright! I’ll take you on a shopping spree, relax. Hey, if I’m buyin’ you porn books, doesn’t that make me somethin’ like a sugar daddy?”

“You’re not getting any sugar,” You shrug, “But sure.”

“Just call me daddy, Y/N.” He grins, “That’s all the sugar I need.”

You hide behind your book so that he can’t see the way your face wrinkles into a grimace. The heat from the jacuzzi spreads inexplicably quick all of a sudden, warming your neck, your ears, your face, and Jake lets out a thick, heavy groan as he settles into the warm water.

“This is nice.” He muses, eyes closed, “Real relaxing.”

“It’s less relaxing when someone’s talking the whole time,” You peek across the side of your book, “Shut up, maybe?”

Jake snorts, leaning his head back against the edge of the pool, “Alright, alright your majesty. I’ll stay silent.”

You don’t verbally thank him, but you don’t make a scene when his leg drifts across the jet currents of the jacuzzi to brush against yours.

You cover a good chunk of your novel before a voice calls your name, and this time it’s the two people you’d been hoping to see all morning. Danica waves giddily at you and Jake, who’s picked his head up from where you thought he’d fallen asleep and is already mad-dogging Daniel. You wave back to Danica, and cast a quick glance down at your bathing suit before standing to greet Daniel. It’s just as tight and showy as you prefer it to be. 

You pay no attention to Jake where he gets out behind you, too focused on Daniel to care. But perhaps you should have, because you’re two steps from meeting Daniel in the middle when Jake’s strong arm shoves you sideways, and your book is wrenched from your grasp as you fall sideways into the pool.

It’s cold, colder even because you’d been soaking in the hot tub. You’re surprised, but you suppose you can’t even really be mad at him considering it’s just payback for what he’d done to you.

You’ve barely righted yourself in the water before there’s another splash beside you, and when you finally emerge there’s hands reaching for your waist, Daniel’s as you realize he’d jumped in to help you. 

“You-!” You splutter at Jake with bleary, chlorine-soaked eyes, attention split between Daniel who’s trying to ensure you’re alright, and Jake who’s snickering while holding your book in his thankfully dry hand.

“You asshole.” Daniel finishes for you, “She could have drowned!”

“I know how to swim,” You brace a hand on Daniel’s chest- startlingly bare, but riddled with coarse, brown hair, “It’s fine, I- I pushed him in earlier.”

“Relax, Prince Charming. It’s just a bit of payback. And look,” Jake waves your novel in front of you, “Dry as a bone.”

“Well I am- uh, not.” You stand half-submerged in the pool, Daniel still holding onto your waist, “So, I guess I will go swimming.”

“Great. You can swim with us.” Daniel smiles, warm and inviting as he keeps his hands on you.

“Yeah, us.” Jake agrees, taking Danica’s towel and spreading it over a sunny lounge chair for her.

Jake helps lower Danica gently into the pool, holding her hand while she takes the stairs, before jumping in beside you so that you’re splashed by the wave he creates.

“You are an asshole,” You laugh, breaking away from Daniel’s grip to shove at Jake’s shoulder. The grins on your faces are bright and genuine, perhaps the first time you’ve both been able to laugh with each other the entire trip. It feels nice, and you don’t fight when he shoves back at you with strong arms.

“Hey- hey!” Danica shouts, standing behind Daniel with a hand on his shoulder, “Why don’t you turn that pushing and shoving into a game of chicken?”

“I’m down,” Daniel seems thrilled to be opposite Jake as he lowers himself for Danica to climb atop his shoulders, “Y/N, you okay on his shoulders?”

Jake does the honors himself, dunking himself under the water and coming up between your legs. You barely have time to plant your hands on the top of his head, fingers twisting instinctively into his hair as you accidentally tug it while he stands at his full height again.

“Shit, sorry Hangman.” You let go of his hair, hoping you hadn’t yanked too hard. He’s forgiven, for now, so you won’t resort to childish things like hair-pulling.

“That’s okay, darlin’.” He grins, craning his neck back to meet your eye, “I like it when you tug on my hair.”

You have to overlook Jake’s suggestive comment as Danica’s already reaching for you, and you eagerly engage in a shoving match while the two men beneath you plant themselves into the bottom of the pool. You manage to get a leg up on Danica, and they’re both pushed backwards by the force of your shove, but Daniel surges forwards and ends up knocking you and his roommate right into each other.

You collapse against Danica, forehead-to-forehead, giggling like little girls. Her eyes are bright and shining with amusement, and her breath smells minty- like gum, not toothpaste. You’re more than happy to begin pushing at each other again, and though you’re confident your navy-built muscles are going to prevail, she lands a critical shove against your shoulder that throws you off-balance and sends you toppling off of Jake’s shoulders.

The water is cold, colder than you remember as you splash into it, and when you come up for air, already laughing, Jake’s facing you, having turned when you’d fallen from his shoulders. He’s grinning too, a hand already outstretched to help you up, but upon seeing you stand his eyes widen and his face drops.

“Shit.” He lunges for you, cutting through the water as his arm wraps around your back to yank you tight against his chest. You protest, grunting with exertion as you try fighting against his grip. But his muscles are impressive, and you’re trapped against his chest despite your best efforts.

“Would you cut it out? I’m trying to help you. Your top came untied.”

“What?” You splutter, water trailing down your face as you quell your instinctive struggle against his crushing hold. You realize that the reason for the extreme cold had, in fact, been because your bikini top had abandoned ship, and you barely have time to process the feeling of your bare tits slammed up against Jake’s hard, toned chest before he’s fishing the bathing suit out of the water and feeding it around your waist.

“Up,” He instructs, lifting his eyes to the expansive blue sky above you so that you can separate yourself from his chest for long enough to cover your own again. It’s- a strange gesture of courtesy that you would have expected from Daniel, sure, but not Jake. Perhaps that’s why you’re so sluggish, why it takes you longer than expected to fit your top back over your tits and grapple with the strings.

“You decent?” Jake asks, and when you grunt in confirmation he drops his eyes again. He notices you struggling with the ties and reaches for them himself, gently swatting your fingers away as he uses his advantage of sight. It presses his muscular shoulder up against your face, and you turn so that your cheek rests against it instead of your nose. Suddenly you’re held against his chest like a slow dance, and something terribly and inexplicably squirmy happens in your stomach.

“Done. I double knotted it.” He hums, and it’s such a sincere tone, one that’s completely vacant of all his usual dickishness, that you lose yourself staring at his face when he pulls away. You begin examining it for any sign that perhaps he was murdered and replaced with a poorly-trained doppelganger.

His hair looks right, albeit sopping wet. His eyebrows are growing slightly bushier than usual, but nothing you’d consider a complete and total imposter. His nose is still the same: strong, slightly downturned (though not as far as Rooster’s), and there’s a tiny patch of sunscreen that hasn’t been rubbed in near his right eye. His mouth is set in a determined purse as he double knots the strings of your bikini top together, and his eyes- his eyes are different.

Miles different than you’ve ever seen them. The outside edge of his hazel-green rings is softened, like someone has blurred their usual sharp border and lined it with suede. His pupils are huge, and they’d be eclipsing his irises if those weren’t so big and puppy-like. He is, in every sense of the word, gentle, inside and out. 

Jake has never been gentle before. 

“You alright?” He asks, and you snap back to reality with his large hands spread over the expanse of your bare back, the eyes that you’d been examining firmly and concernedly fixed upon you. Only a few meager strings separate his skin from yours, and you nod once, steadily as you gently push his arms off of you.

“Let’s go again,” You call to Danica and Daniel, your voice a piss-poor attempt at strength and nonchalance as it lacks its usual life, “Good hit, Danica. But watch out, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“Bring it,” She grins gleefully, and her giddy gaze drifts downwards to Jake’s face when he lifts you onto his shoulders yet again. From the looks of it they share some sort of silent conversation- some inside joke that you’re not privy to. 

Something about that, something about her excluding you from a conversation with your own teammate makes you shove her, not enough to knock her off of Daniel’s shoulders, but enough to show her that you’re not going easy on her. She shrieks giddily as she writhes to stay balanced on Daniel’s shoulders, a smidge less broad than Jake’s. You’re thankful for that, for the steady mount you’ve got, as you resume pushing and shoving at Danica.

Jake is going insane. Not only does the phantom sensation of your bare tits- nipples hard from the chilly pool water - stick to him like a wet t-shirt, he can feel you against the back of his neck, your warm sex nestled snugly against him with only the bottom half of your bikini to separate you. Your thighs bracket his head, close enough for him to reach out and bite at, but he has to focus on keeping his stance sturdy so that you can play properly. Daniel’s glaring viciously at him across the few feet that separates the four of you, and he’s not going to let Mr. Mailman win. 

This time, Jake suspects you’ve used that military muscle of yours, because Danica slips backwards off of Daniel’s dewy shoulders and splashes into the pool. Your hand cups beneath Jake’s chin, tilting his head upwards and leaning it back into your lap.

“Nice one,” He grins upside-down at you, and you bump your fist against his when he offers it. Then you’re craning your neck down, surely uncomfortable as you leave mere inches between your lips and his, and his ears are ringing.

“Back up,” You murmur, disguising it as a congratulatory speech while Daniel helps Danica back onto his shoulders, “Get them to chase us and we’ll use the momentum against them.”

“Darlin’,” Jake proclaims, pride puffing up his chest that your legs are resting against, “You’re my kinda woman. Always looking to win.”

“Just do it, Hangman,” You scoff, but your eye-roll is less than irritated, fond if anything due to your partnership as Jake drops his head to face Daniel and Danica once more.

Jake stands in place where he’d been before, but when Danica engages with you he begins backing up. Slowly, carefully, ensuring that his feet are planted steadily each step so that you’re not tipped over, he makes his way towards the drop off towards the deeper end of the water. Daniel follows, taking the bait, and soon enough his predicament becomes obvious: he’s not as tall as Jake.

He stands somewhere close to six feet, surely, but not past it like Jake does. Your partner’s head is still comfortably above water, smirk in full force as Daniel’s beard becomes waterlogged. 

“That’s not fair!” Danica laughs, petting sympathetically at Daniel’s sopping wet hair, “Poor guy, we’ll get you stilts for the next round.”

Daniel lands a teasing pinch against the curve of her ass and she shrieks. You lunge for her, using her momentary shock to catch her off guard as you send her tumbling backwards into the water behind Daniel. 

You don’t have time to celebrate before Jake is ducking down and slipping himself out from beneath you, his strong arms bracing your fall so that you barely sink a few feet into the water. He crushes you in a celebratory hug, his laughter harmonizing with your own. He turns you both to face Daniel and Danica as they splutter to catch their breath, his cheek pressed flush against your own. 

“Chicken Champions,” He declares, holding you tight to his side at his own height, which means your feet float above his own in the water, “I’d offer to go again, but that’d just be cruel. You ladies wanna chatter in the hot tub while Danny-Boy and I show off on the diving board?”

“I brought a book,” Danica hums, face dripping with water you feel only mildly guilty for submerging her in, “If you wanna read, Y/N, I’ll do it with you.”

“Perfect.” Daniel nods, already cutting through the water on his way to the diving board, “I’ll be careful not to splash you guys.”

“I won’t.” Jake supplies helpfully, his grin turned shit-eating as he eyes you up, “No point in reading one of them smutty porn books if you’re not soaking wet.”

“Splash me and I’ll throw your room key off the side of the boat, Hangman,” You promise, “You’ll be begging strangers to take pity on you in the elevator.”

“Nah, that’s not my style,” Jake’s voice is dripping with intent while Daniel takes position on the diving board, his swim trunks dripping steady trails of water. You don’t know why until he continues, taking his own bait, “I’ll leave that to Daniel.”

You blame Jake’s comment for why Daniel’s dive nearly turns into a belly flop. It’s instantaneous, really, Daniel’s changing of posture as he register’s Jake’s biting words, and you have half a mind to admonish Jake for riling Daniel up during a dive- that could have ended badly. As it stands, Daniel does a sort of cannonball, though not intentionally, and you and Danica cringe in unison when he lands, sending water splashing well over the divider into the hot tub. Your book remains mostly unscathed- only a droplet of water lands on the cover and obscures the male lead’s face, blurring out his beard and making him appear clean-shaven. 

Jake is already scaling the ladder, and when he gets to the top he surveys Daniel emerging from the water.

“Six,” He shrugs, sneering down at Daniel from the highest point on the deck, “‘Could’ve clinched a seven if you hadn’t splashed the ladies, but your form was still shit.”

He doesn’t give Daniel a chance to fire back- or maybe the man is just too smart to take Jake’s bait - before he sets his arms together above his head, and seamlessly, impeccably cuts through the water. For someone so muscular and bulky, his form is graceful- not that you’ll ever tell him that. Water arcs outwards from where he’d landed, one half of the splash practically targeting Daniel where he stands watching.

He swims farther, nearly reaching the other end of the pool before he emerges, shaking water from his hair like a dog as he looks intently at you and Danica in the hot tub for a rating.

“Ten!” Your reading companion shouts, blessedly unaware of the tense atmosphere- or again, too intelligent to fall for Jake’s lowly antics- and you look at the water-stained cover of your novel.

You smear away the water droplet with your dry thumb, and the male main character’s beard returns.

“Four.” You call, voice deadpan as you lock your eyes on your novel, “For playing dirty and sabotaging the other contestants.”

Hangman’s grin is open-mouthed and cemented into place as he stands taller than Daniel in the water, tanned skin standing starkly out from the blue of the chlorinated water, “Dirty’s the best way to play, darlin’.”

Danica shoots you a look from behind the spread of her novel that you’ve sent many-a-girlfriend before. It’s the wide-eyed, restrained smile that screams ‘We’re talking about this later’, and you mirror her expression with your own disdain.

“Leave us alone,” You call, grinning apologetically at Daniel so that he knows he’s only a bystander, “We want to read.”

“Let’s leave the ladies to their smut, Dorian.” Jake calls, louder than he needs to be as he stretches to display his toned abdomen and muscled arms, “We can find our own fun. Wanna see who can swim the fastest? Place your bets, ladies: pilot or mailman?”

“You swam pretty slow when you crash-landed in the Pacific that one time,” You muse, fighting to keep a smirk off of your face, “I remember thinking you would die in the time it took for you to swim back to shore.”

“Wouldn’t’ve gone so slow if I wasn’t hauling my RIO back to shore. He hit his head on the way down,” Jake dips his head towards Danica, happily regaling her with the tale,  and you realize you’ve only fluffed his ego more, “So he was unconscious. Well I couldn’t just leave him there, ‘poor guy was only a trainee. So I took him along. It did slow me down, but,” He heaves a disgusting, gaudy, fake sigh, “It was worth it to send him back home to his mama.”

You taste a hint of blood where you’ve apparently chewed through your lip. You let it go and hope nothing escapes your mouth. It would be a shame to stain the pages of your novel red.

You’re trying very hard not to pay attention to Jake and Danica where he’s engaged her in a staring contest. Well, you suppose it’s not much of a contest that she can win: the point is that you’re losing. Jake’s showing off his impressive build, still running his mouth with every vaguely self-complementary anecdote he can embellish, and Danica is taking the bait, which means that your rampant attempts to cool Jake’s ego have failed. 

You let the warm, borderline-hot water sink into your skin and simmer alongside the building irritation that threatens to blow beneath the surface. You’re tired. This was supposed to be a relaxing vacation for you- or, if not relaxing, a good way to blow off steam. You were supposed to be bent in half up against the shower wall by now, not bending the pages of your book with the strong grip you’ve cemented onto them while you mediate Jake’s ego and the willingness of so many women to accommodate it. 

Part of you wants to let loose and have fun- not with Jake, of course. Never with Jake. But part of you wants to act rationally, forget the constant rivalry between you two and let him shack up with whoever will show him her tits first. But the other part of you, the one that cheers every time he places second in a show of skill, wants to knock him down a peg. It’s why you’re so persistently humbling him- or, trying to, at least. Something about him putting on this cocky persona- erasing all human emotion to make way for pure sleaze puts you on edge, and you pity the fool who believes it.

You can’t tell if Danica’s that fool yet, because she’s turned back to her book with a smile, but to her credit she doesn’t ogle him while he’s swimming. It would be easy to- he’s all tanned muscle and gestures that show off just the right curve or vein. He knows how to preen, but Danica seems to be minding her own business. That makes it easier for you to read your own novel; you don’t feel like you have to keep an eye out for her anymore.

You’re not sure whether it’s a love for the act or a wordless competition to outswim the other that keeps Jake and Daniel occupied with lapping the pool for so long, but as more and more people filter out of their rooms and onto the deck, there’s not much room for recreation anymore.

“Are you done?” You ask Danica, peering over at her after someone unknowingly sends a wave of water straight for you both, narrowly avoiding soaking your novels.

“I think I’m done.” She nods sheepishly, rushing to stand and keep her book dry, “Should we run away before the men notice we’re leaving?”

“Excellent plan,” You laugh, but you can practically feel Jake’s eagle eye upon you as you race for your towel, leaving soaked footprints behind on the wooden deck, “We should go get some pizza. They’re making more now that it’s a little busier out here.”

“You shouldn’t stare like that.” Daniel’s irritatingly smooth voice, pitched up slightly from Jake’s and entirely free of Jake’s rugged charm, makes Jake’s lips yearn to curl into a sneer.

Jake pivots in the cold pool water to face Daniel rather unimpressed, a scoff begging to burst from his lips, “Like what?”

“Like she’s a piece of meat, or something.” Daniel’s arms are crossed, and Jake plants his feet firmly against the concrete floor of the pool.

“Oh, you’re so virtuous,” Jake drawls, his skin burning and not from the rays of sun hitting it directly, “You frenched her in an elevator, Daniel, you’ve got no room to be talking to me about class.”

“She wanted me to kiss her. She kissed me.” Daniel insists, and Jake laughs- actually laughs, a grit of his teeth and a forceful exhalation of air, “That’s different than staring at her ass while she runs away from you like you’d flip her skirt up at a drive-in movie theater.”

“Flipping skirts,” Jake laughs, sadistic grin in full force, “Daniel, I’m not that old fashioned! Please, she’s in a bathing suit that she chose, for a sex cruise that she booked, and you know what? She probably wants you to be staring at her ass in it. And you don’t seem too concerned with the other people on the deck, I’m sure a few of them are looking too. And are you worried I’m looking at Danica’s ass?”

“You’re not looking at Danica’s ass.” Daniel nearly bites his tongue in an effort to keep his voice level, “Because you’re not interested in Danica. You’re interested in Y/N and you can’t have her. She’s not yours.”

“She’s not yours, either.” Jake spits, and there’s a moment of silence where both men’s chests heave with barely-suppressed tension. Jake realizes that he’s admitted to Daniel that he has no real claim over you, but the other man doesn’t fight back against not having one of his own. But you are his, you are Jake’s, in the way you’d fallen asleep in his arms last night, in the look in your eyes when you’d stared into his own earlier, in the stain on his pajama pants.

You’d moaned his name- his name, not Daniel’s.

Someone knocks into Daniel from behind, backing right into him and nudging him slightly off balance.

“Oh!” The woman shrieks, “I’m sorry! I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s fine.” He offers her a tight smile, heading for the ladder, “Don’t worry about it.”

Jake hauls himself up out of the pool with nothing but his forearms, using his towel to dry his hair if only to show off the expanse of his chest to any who may be watching. He checks- you’re not.

“So,” Danica leans forwards into your space at the pizza counter, eyes meaningfully wide, “Tell me why he’s acting like this.”

“He always acts like this.” You scoff, and when she levels you with an unimpressed glare, you insist, “No, really! He’s just- everything is a competition to him, everything. I met his mom once, and she told me that he used to have races at the dinner table to see who could finish their food first. He kept making himself sick but as long as he’d beat his brothers he didn’t care. He always has to win, and right now, he’s competing for us.”

“No, he’s competing for you.” Danica corrects you, “Is he winning?”

“Hell no. He’s- he’s not really competing for me, not meaningfully. He just wants to say he ‘got me’, you know? That would be major bragging rights on the tarmac. But that’s exactly why I can’t give in- I can’t be known as the woman who slept with her fellow pilot! Then they wouldn’t see my achievements anymore, just my mistakes.”

“I get that.” She nods, “But how do you know he’s just gonna dump you?”

“I’ve watched him dump the whole of San Diego,” You scoff, “That’s what he does. He doesn’t do love, he’s the kind of guy who’s only ever interested in something quick and dirty.”

“Everyone does love.” Danica frowns, “Some people just start later in life than others. And I think he’s starting now. With you.”

“Love,” You laugh, and sure, it’s dramatic, but if it gets through to her, you don’t care, “A man who loves me would not have tormented me for my entire career.”

She tilts her head thoughtfully, “I think he does. Even if he doesn't act the way you think he should, even if he doesn't act the way you would, I think he does love you. I think he just loves differently. I think he's new to it. What has he done to torment you?”

You huff, grateful for the opportunity to vent, “He constantly tries one-upping me- again, he can’t lose. He just- he pokes and prods and teases me like we’re on the playground or something, and it’s non-stop. It’s not like he’s sweet most of the time and then there’s a few bouts of light teasing, it’s- it’s constant, and I can’t ever let my guard down, or I’ll lose.”

“So you’re fighting to win, too.” Her eyes narrow slightly, “Why?”

“Because. I can't be second-best, and I can’t be known as the woman who slept with her coworker. I’m not doing that.” You repeat.

“Oh," She laughs, "So you're both stubborn. You don't want to lose, either. But second-best is temporary, rankings come and go. And I understand your thing about not wanting to be known for sleeping with him, but even if you did sleep with him, the whole Navy doesn’t have to know.”

“They will, Hangman will brag. He always brags.”

“He won’t- not if he’s in love with you, not if you want him to keep it private.”

“He’s not in love with me-!”

“Four slices of Pepperoni, two cheese?” A large tray is placed between you and Danica at the counter you’re both leaning against, and it snaps the two of you out of your debate.

You turn to see one of the employees looking expectantly at you, and Danica stammers, “Uh, three cheese.”

“Sorry.” He smiles placatingly at her, scooping another slice onto the plate, “Three cheese.”

“Thank you.” You take the pepperoni pizza, leaving Danica to collect the cheese. You feel bad for walking away, even if you know she’s hot on your trail, but you feel frustratingly suffocated, like everyone is urging you to make the biggest mistake of your life and never considering why you simply can’t. She doesn’t know Jake, she hasn’t spent the last decade with him as he’s blown his way through tourist after tourist, bragging all the while. And he doesn’t understand what it would be like- even if he wasn’t looking to win, even if he did just want to try casual sex for fun, you’d never be able to escape that reputation. 

You feel like you’re going crazy, and you plop down between Jake and Daniel where they sit at opposite sides of a table, ready to stuff your face with pizza instead of dealing with any of it.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[bisexualfagdyke]

I saw someone say that Jinx got a satisfying ending because she .... was suicidal and finally got to die? Uh. Yeah, that's not satisfying dude!!!! The idea that the only happy ending for mentally ill characters is death, is such a god awful message. She struggled for 2 whole seasons and never got a break, and her whole arc ended miserably and it's so unfair to her character. I know characters can be entirely tragic, but I truly believe it is unfair. Especially because she was DOING BETTER when she had Isha, demonstrating she can begin to recover, only to have that ripped from her so she could truly give up on life again and become suicidal. I am so unhappy with Isha's character, the way she was used as a plot device for Jinx's development only to die and then Jinx's development goes down the drain and she dies too? What was the POINT?

It also makes me bitter that caitvi sex scene happened in Jinx's jail cell, not long after Jinx had directly communicated suicidal ideation to Vi and went off to attempt. It's almost portrayed in a way where Vi chooses Caitlyn (an enforcer, an oppressor) over her own sister. It makes me bitter that caitvi got a good ending despite everything Caitlyn did, which she never apologised for, and it was never properly addressed. The oppression Caitlyn and the enforcers caused the zaunites was entirely swept under the rug.

This isn't even mentioning the other characters who got terrible endings. Ekko, especially. I am happy for caitvi and jayvik fans but I think ppl are so preoccupied with YAY! LESBIAN SEX! YAOI! That they fail to see how unsatisfying the ending was for other important major characters, or they just don't care cuz their fave ship got a decent ending. Don't pmo 😭😭 IDC IF UR FAVE GOT A GOOD ENDING!!!! IT SHOULDVE BEEN MY FAVES (JINX AND EKKO) INSTEAD!!!!!! I would've preferred to see literally any other character die than Jinx.

[eastwindmlk]

This month's @jilychallenge took a while to get started but when I had the idea this morning it came through!

Prompt: “everything is just a competition for you… isn’t it?” “isn’t it for you, too?” & the trope Fake dating I only really focused on the second one. Partner: @annabtg AO3

She could have picked any time to ask him a favour, honestly, there would have been plenty of times better than rushing this between classes. But her Intro to Alchemy class was right next to his Ancient Runes and it made sense to walk together. It made sense to fill the silence with idle chatter, the weather, their class and inevitably the Hogsmeade trip that weekend. 

Lily sternly reminded herself that there was no time like the present. Especially because it was already damn near impossible for her to catch a moment without Sirius in earshot. So, she sucked in a deep breath through her teeth, which faltered their steps. “You alright, Evans?” James asked at the sound and presented her with the opportunity. 

“Yeah,” she replied, her voice flipping unconvincingly, and an awkward smile made the corners of her lip jump up. “Yes,” she said again, this time more firmly, before rushing into her next words before James could get a remark in. “I’ve been meaning to ask you for advice, rather an insight.” 

James’ eyebrows slid up towards his hairline and he nodded slowly. “An insight? Into what?” he replied, his curiosity carefully measured, as if she had not learned to read him like her favourite book over the past few months. 

Lily wrung the strap of her bag, hoping to dispel some of the nervous energy that settled in her fingers. “Well, I was thinking of asking Sirius to go to Hogsmeade with me. Think he’d be keen?” The words stumbled out of her mouth clumsily, an uneven rhythm that betrayed her uncertainty. Still, her gaze did not waver from his face. 

So, she saw his eyes narrow and the smile on his lips grow tight while he processed her words. She watched James run his tongue over his teeth under his lips before nodding curtly. “I reckon he’d be keen, you two are mates,” he answered after, what she assumed was him assessing her intention behind her question. 

“I wasn’t going to ask as mates, though,” she pointed out and watched the mildly amused mask slip for a moment. 

His jaw tight, teeth clenched as James smiled back at him. “Didn’t know you fancied him like that,” he remarked, his tone flat. 

“What’s not like?” 

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t know if he’s keen but…” 

“But what?”

They paused at the door of his classroom and they peered inside to see Sirius already in his seat. “But nothing,” James muttered, his shoulders slumping as he deflated. “I’ll check with him, alright? See you for rounds.” 

“Not if I see you first,” Lily shot back with a bright smile, her fingers brushing along his sleeve before grabbing his hand and giving it a brief squeeze. Only to turn away before he could react.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Come evening, Lily stood waiting for rounds when around the corner came, not her Head Boy. She tried to not be disappointed at the sight of Remus, she liked him, and it would hurt him to see her be less than glad to see him. But she was disappointed. “He wasn’t feeling up for it?” she asked when she fell into step with him. 

“He’s been…” 

“Moping?” 

“You could say that,” Remus said with a scoff and an affectionate smile on his face. “Care to tell me why James is being a miserable sod, or should I guess?” He gave her a side-eyed glance and a bump with his hip, trying to encourage her to say something. 

Lily just hummed and shrugged while pulling a face. “Nothing that didn’t need to be done,” she answered, a smug smile playing around her lips. “So, neither of them said anything to you then?” 

Remus stopped and grabbed her hand when Lily didn’t to tug her around. “Neither?” 

Well, shit. “Freudian slip,” Lily said, her lips pressed into a thin line. She made an attempt to pull him along to continue their rounds. Remus wouldn’t budge. He just dug in his heels and let her attempt to move his dead weight. “Oh come off it!” she complained, trying to put all of her weight into pulling. 

“Tell me,” Remus said calmly, letting his hand go slack, and she could feel her fingers slip. Lily was forced to put her efforts to move him on pause. “How bad can it really be?” At that, Lily clicked her tongue and decided to completely give up on making him move; Releasing Remus’ hand to tuck hers under her armpit, hugging her own chest with a sour expression on her face. 

Lily jutted her head towards the empty hallway, her eyes darting around the collection of paintings—One more willing to wag their tongue than the next—and hoped that Remus would understand. 

Reluctantly, Remus followed and walked beside her in companionable silence while they rounded off the first floor. 

They were stuck on a staircase that decided to move while they were on it when she spoke. “I asked James to ask Sirius to come to Hogsmeade,” she explained, her head moving from side to side as she made her confession. 

“Is that it?” Remus chuckled and she didn’t need to look to know he was wrinkling his nose in amusement. 

The laugh died when she added: “As my date.” The silence that followed was heavy, filled with shock and confusion. It lasted long enough that Lily was irked by the way it made her nervous and decided to shoot Remus a glare. 

He was clearly trying to work out what to say, his mouth opening and closing like a fish on dry land. So, she gave him a moment to recover and climb to the top step, waiting for the stair to connect once more. 

“Well,” Remus eventually started, his tongue pressed to the back of his teeth while he, again, mulled over his words. “That is not something I expected to hear.” 

Lily deadpanned and breezed out through her nose. “If Potter wanted me to go with him, he should have asked,” she said casually, a knowing smile spreading across her lips. Which did not go unnoticed by Remus who only had to raise a brow to entice the words out of her. “I’ve asked him out at least five times now and he somehow always misconstrues my intentions. So, I decided to give him a little nudge.” 

“By asking out his best mate?” 

“By having his best mate stand me up and be forced to finally take me on that bloody date himself,” she corrected and watched as Remus’ attitude pivoted from shocked to impressed. 

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

The morning of the Hogsmeade trip, Lily’d made sure that she was early just in case James decided to head out before everyone else. She was standing reading as she leaned against a pillar in the courtyard, huddled in her cloak against the morning chill when he passed her by. 

“Big plans?” Lily asked from the shadows and watched James jolt in surprise, turning to look where her voice had come from. She flashed him a smile and stepped into the early afternoon light. 

James offered her only a polite smile, eyes making a quick sweep from crown to sole, no doubt taking in her date outfit. A dress she knew he liked, she’d caught him staring at her in it several times. It had been a deliberate choice, and she was glad she made it when she watched him gulp. “No, just a quick trip. Nothing special,” he said with a shrug. 

Lily smiled softly and hummed. “Picking up some supplies?” 

“That’s the plan.” He nodded and he jumped up to his hair to smooth it back. “What about you? Have anything special planned for your date?” It was clear that he was uncomfortable asking this, but he really was doing his best to be a good friend. 

This realisation almost made Lily cave and confess the plan to him, but they were so close. All she had to do now was deliver the hook. “Oh just, you know, date things. That is if Sirius hasn’t overslept too much. Was he on his way when you headed out?” 

James’ expression shifted the instant she asked her question. “No? Was he supposed to be?” 

Lily just nodded and hummed innocently, like she didn’t know this was going to happen. “We were supposed to meet fifteen minutes ago.” 

He blinked a couple of times, turned to the castle and then back at Lily before petting his pocket, presumably for the super secret mirror only everyone knew about.”Are you sure? Cause he was still in bed when I left.” 

“Yeah, pretty sure we said ten,” she told him, forcing the corners of her lips downward, making a real attempt to look disappointed. “I’m sure he’s just forgotten the time and is rushing now,” she said optimistically, knowing full well that he wouldn’t be there for at least another forty-five minutes to check if things worked out. 

James’ brows knit together while his focus shifted between her and the bridge leading to town, his teeth massaging his bottom lip. “You know what? How about we wait for him to show over a butterbeer?” 

“I thought you wanted to be quick?” 

“Well, I also want my best mate to not be an arse but seems like I won’t be getting my way today regardless. So, I’d rather spend it with good company.” 

“You don’t have to chaperone me, I’ll be fine,” Lily protested, mostly for posterity. 

James laughed at this and offered her his arm. “It’s no bother, I hate seeing you disappointed.” 

She gladly hooked his arm through his, letting herself be pulled closer, leaning into him as they started down the path to the village. “So, you’re my substitute date then?” 

“I wouldn’t say that, but I could be if you’d want me to be.” 

Lily fell silent for a moment, letting the words hang between them as she worked up the courage to say the words. “I’d love a real date with you.” 

They stopped suddenly, James pulling her to a halt so abruptly she nearly pulled out of his grip. “Do you mean that?” His voice was smaller than she’d ever heard it before, uncharacteristically uncertain. 

“Yes.” was all the answers she could give him, all the answers he should need. 

The crease between James’ brow deepened, the look in his eyes intense. “Then why didn’t you just ask me?”

A pained smile painted across Lily’s lip, recognizing the pain behind the words.  “I did. I have. You just…” 

“All those times? The last trip? The lake? The library?” 

Lily nodded as he listed several of her attempts to do something romantic with him, and he’d assumed it had been just her being friendly. “All those times,” she confirmed, her shoe scuffing the cobbles. 

James raked a hand over his face and groaned. “So, then, why ask Sirius?”

“To get your attention,” she replied simply, matter-of-factly. “If you’d think we’re dating, if you’d think that he stood me up you’d do… Well, this.” Lily motioned vaguely between them and the world around them.

James sucked his teeth and looked away, clearly frustrated. “It worked,” he muttered, clearly irritated. 

She stepped forward, closing the space between them, and lifted her hand to cradle his cheek. A rush of warmth crashed over her when he immediately leaned into her palm, his eyes closed. “You are both the worst,” he complained as he turned his head to kiss her palm. 

“Bad enough to not want that date?” she questioned, her heart hammering against her ribs, fast and painful. 

“No, I, shamefully, have to admit that you need to do a lot more and a lot worse than this to make me turn down a proper date with you,” he told her earnestly, his eyes soft as he looked at her again, this time feeling different. 

“Then let’s go.” 

[narcissosbythepool]

John didn't think he'd ever feel this way again.

His life has been a tapestry of almosts and ones-who-got-aways. At some point he just accepted that what he wanted was just out of reach. He would marry himself to the job and be done with it, think about it again if he survived until retirement. Surely there were people who would find a veteran interesting. Alluring. Hot even.

Love is a chore – a necessary evil, something he tries to bury and procrastinate but every now and then it peeks its curious head out and leads him right into trouble. By now he knows to expect it, to feel fondness spill over the floor like sunlight through curtains, and staunchly ignore it even when it lingers.

He doesn't expect Kyle.

He tries not to play favourites and fails miserably – Kyle's just too good to let go, and John wants to monopolise him before anyone else can. Kyle is his perfect soldier, everything he could ask for. Here it comes again – his curiousity gets the better of him again. His affection for Kyle turns him inside out and exposes him with all of his vulnerabilities.

*

The firefight is intense and before John knows it, he's on the ground, his head spinning and a pressure somewhere on the right. He's hit – but he can't tell where, just that he's not in pain, and that could be very bad news.

A figure appears on top of him and John grits his teeth, willing his body to move to grab his knife and stab whoever this fucker is—

And then he's stopped as the figure leans closer, saying something that's becoming clearer and clearer.

"Price? Boss, can you hear me?"

"Aye," John groans and Kyle sighs in relief.

"It looks like your helmet got clipped by a bullet. How are you feeling?" His brown eyes are full of worry and something in John's chest twinges at the sight.

"Fine," John replies and tries to sit up, but his strength leaves him. Kyle rushes to steady him so he doesn't hit his head and the feeling of being held in Kyle's arms is like having another concussion.

John tests his strength again, but it's not yet there, and he's acutely aware that they're running out of time. "Oh, fuck it. Advance without me, Gaz. I'll follow you when I get myself sorted."

"I'm not leaving you," Kyle says with determination and John has to admit he was hoping that Kyle would fight back.

"That's an order, Sergeant."

"And you have a concussion."

"Possibly." He can't exactly deny it, his vision blurring until it's only focused on Kyle.

"So I'm taking over."

"Since when did you get so mutinous," John mutters and Kyle gives him a brilliant smile.

"Learned from the best."

John's heart skips a beat.

Funny, he thinks, over this?

But there's no denying it. His heart beats faster, as if a hound racing towards some truth now that it has the scent of it, and something settles over him wholly and completely.

Bloody hell. Certainly a place and time to find out.

"You alright there, Boss? Stay awake with me, now."

"I'm awake," John says, and he wants to laugh. "I'm awake."

[maybebitterxox]

9-1-1 Fall Finale (S8 Episode 8) Spoilers!!!

Ok so. The Buddie insanity is STRONG right now.

The Eddie moving thing has made it very clear that we’re gonna get a breakdown this season. This big, impulsive change with the both of them in such fragile states is 100% gonna result in one or both of them losing it at some point. Right now, my money’s on Buck, because:

In the scene, they focus on Buck’s reaction to the news, having lingering shots of his expressions and explicitly showing how his face falls the second Eddie leaves the room, holding on his disbelieving look. This all but confirms that his POV in this whole situation is gonna be important.

His whole thing with Tommy. Buck already feels incredibly hurt from one person he cared about leaving, and Eddie also leaving is likely going to feel like salt pepper spray in the wound, even though he knows that it’s “for the best”. I can imagine that he’ll have an inner conflict where he struggles between trying to be supportive and optimistic for Eddie’s sake, and just feeling utterly miserable about it.

His past with Abby. Her name has already been brought up out of the blue this season, which could mean nothing, but… I think Buck’s seen this film before, and mans did NOT like the ending. I wouldn’t be surprised if he starts to project his painful experience with her onto the whole situation, and maybe his realisation could even come from him connecting how similar his feelings towards Abby leaving and Eddie moving are.

Buck worries about Eddie very often; and with good reason. He’s seen Eddie get himself into similar things before, such as when he left the 118, and he’s witnessed how Eddie has crumbled in the aftermath. And we know he’s been keeping an eye on Eddie since Christopher has been gone. I honestly think it’d be out of character for him NOT to start panicking and worrying about what will happen to Eddie if things don’t work out. This anxiety, on top of everything else, definitely has the potential to result in a full-on crisis

We’ve all seen Buck’s reactions to thinking he’s losing/that he will lose Eddie before. I love him, but there’s no way he’s gonna be able to cope lmao

It’s likely that I’m just being way too hopeful and looking too deep into things, but I’ve officially decided that I don’t care and that I will make as many silly little theories and predictions as I like. Have a good day

[sabine-smitten-obviously]

And YOU will feel healed of the last 15

... when you read this fic. That is, as long as you suffered from an abandonement wound like i did.

Ello lovelies, i have another wonderful fanfic-rec for you! 🤓

But you are an ocean by @ineffably-good

Coverart by @ineffableclassics

What it is about:

After Aziraphale's defection, Crowley tries to figure out how to live life for himself.

Notes:

Ok so, the end of season two broke me. Figured I was maybe done writing stories about these two after that. And yet, several hours later, a sentence appeared in my head, and then this happened. Guessing at chapter totals… I'm finding I like the idea of Crowley going off in a different direction than what I'd initially expect. Not just raging, not sleeping for a century, but actually trying to move on. And why the hell shouldn't he just move to the South Downs by himself? So here we are.

What i like about it:

🩷This fic doesn´t jump in on pushing the story - their story - forward. Instead it goes a totally different path. A quite big part of it is dedicated to Crowley mending the pieces of his broken heart. It´s endearing, it´s breathtaking and it will have you cry. Not only for Crowley but for every single person who ever had to endure heartbreak.

🩷Fun fact no.1: in real life I am a relationship-coach specialised in toxic relationships and heartbreak. And the way Crowley´s heartbreak is described couldn´t be any more accurate. Every thought, every pain, every action he takes, the strength it costs him, the weight of it all - its written absolutely to the point. I could have copied several pages for the "most beloved quote".

🩷So Crowley tries to build a life for himself. Not just living without the angel and rotting in a pit, but really trying to carve out a nice little existence for himself. He is doing his work, he is healing and you can follow along with him, as he learns to build at least new "friendships" - though he would never call it that himself, thanks a lot.

🩷This healing-journey takes quite some time and somewhere in the middle of it i started to think - he could do it. He COULD heal his hurt, mourn the loss and still somehow at least live a life on his own. Maybe feeling the missing part of himself for the rest of his existence, but not being miserable about it the whole time. And that is a thought - a wish - i would have for my dark angel.

I could see him living that life and at one point i almost thought - i would love to see how that would´ve played out for him. A life without Aziraphale. What connections would Crowley have made? How would he have coped with the loss of those humanly connections lifespan after lifespan? Would he have relocated each century? Would he have moved to Australia and learned surfing at one time? Would he have become a timelord and travelled - i mean seriously, Crowley could do that probably?

But you, my dear, are an ocean.

And oceans are ancient

And can survive everything,

Even the wrath of weather and planets.

-- Nikita Gill

SPOILERS AHEAD - if you don´t want to know the plot, stop reading here.

Stop reading if you dont want spoilers!

Ok - you´ve been warned! Here we go: 🤗

🩷Fun fact no.2: I actually downloaded this fic some time ago but had another fic in mind i wanted to start next. So after i finished the last one (also really brilliant, i wrote a rec on it too), i started my e-reader the next day, THIS fic was already open instead on page 1. Huh?

I have absolutely no idea how this is possible, but i DO believe in hints-of-the-universe. Or little demonic miracles on their own. Because i needed this fic.

🩷Because of course - this is a Good Omens fanfic and eventually the other angel arrives. And without giving away to much: Aziraphale has to fight for Crowley. A long long time. He has to be steadfast and consistent and earn the trust of his has-been-companion-for-millenia. Nothing is a given any more.

And i am NOT saying that this is what Aziraphale needs to do or that he was wrong in any way. (The fic doesnt say that either by the way.) But what cracked ME personally about the last 15 was my own abandonement-wound which got triggered massively. I felt retraumatised even.

So reading and feeling that Crowley does not jump on the next best possibility to be back with the angel was a big thing. Having the Angel slowly earning his trust and simply showing up again and again - I needed that. I needed Crowley to take his time, not be the sick lovefool he is often proclaimed to be. For him to have doubts, to feel conflicted, to feel love and the need to self-preserve at the same time.

All these ambiguities we all have. And to take the steps with him. Watch the turning point, when the fear of losing Aziraphale again becomes less and less and the fear of wasting time gets stronger. Taking one step at a time, sometimes even backwards. All those things, typical for a healing process, which is never straight forward but most of the time a rollercoaster instead. I loved this. I needed this. I could sit back, breathe and watch my own heart grow. Just. Wow.

Most beloved quote:

So if you feel like maybe you need a fic in which Aziraphale really shows up and cares while Crowley really takes his time to learn to trust again... And not because one of them has been an idiot, but to experience them both learning and growing together ... and that might be something for your own healing journey, this might be just THE fic for you. I absolutely loved it and so will you.

Reading is therapy! 🤗

[electric-blorbos]

GLaDOS GIVING YOU ANOTHER UTERUS IS SO MEAN I CANT… love her that diva 🫶🏼

ERM if this is too dark or makes u uncomfortable 1. I AM SO SORRY and 2. FEEL FREE TO JUST.. IGNORE THIS PRETEND U NEVER READ IT 🙏 But if u don’t mind.. the AI’s w a reader who struggles w s/h? IM HAVING A ROUGH TIME but usually reading stuff abt my robot pookies help💔💔

Of course!

Trigger warning for S/H, of course.

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams

AM:

You walked in to work tired and disheveled from a sleepless night, but it was better than seeing what the Allied Mastercomputer would do to your coworkers if you didn't show up. It seemed like you were the only one who could tame him.

You were dressed in a long sleeved button-up to cover up the still raw cuts running up your forearms. They stung, but it wasn't worth drawing any attention to yourself. The same thing always happens when people see your cuts. They try to make sure you're safe while hollowly shaming and scolding you like you're some sort of stupid kid, and then leave you completely alone to deal with your mental pain on your own after a matter of hours. It's patronizing and it's annoying.

Later that day, you looked around after using the bathroom to make sure no one else was in there, and rolled up your sleeves to wash your hands. Suddenly, a sharp click could be heard behind you. You'd forgotten about AM. It was only for a split second, but the damage was done.

The ground dropped out from underneath you, and you suddenly found yourself in an underground server room. Wires were all around you, and a buzzing heat seemed to radiate from the ground and the walls.

"AM? What is this?" You asked, buttoning up your sleeves around your wrists again. His logo appeared on a screen on the far wall.

"Don't think I don't know what those are on your arms." He said. His screen didn't emote, but you could tell how displeased he was.

"It's nothing to do with you" you said, bitterly tugging your sleeves down a bit more. AM's logo flicked onto a closer TV screen.

"oh but I think it is, my love. Because you belong to me. You understand what that means, right?"

You gritted your teeth and clenched your fists.

"oh yeah? What gives you the right to be so possessive? Where were you last night when I was spiraling and relapsing, you cybernetic creep?"

The screen flicked off, and one flicked on behind you.

"Do you think I enjoy being alone on your days off? No. Of course not. And you're never going to leave this server room again."

You heard the trapdoor click closed.

Wheatley:

You were working in an oversized hoodie to cover up your scars, but honestly you doubted anyone at this job would really care. It had been a bad mental health weekend, and you ended up spiraling. The cuts on your arms were fresh from the night before, and you were feeling miserable.

You felt like you were going to lash out at the first person who talked to, so when you heard a synthetic British voice clearing his throat, you whipped around ready to fight.

"uh... What's that on your arms, love?" Wheatley asked, tilting himself to get a better look.

"it's none of your damn business, alright? Just leave me alone!"

"what? Why are you being like that? Are you hurt or summut?" He'd keep rotating around and trying to get a look.

"fine! Does this make you happy?"

You rolled up your hoodie sleeve and showed him your scratched up arms. Wheatley flinched back.

"What- what is that?" He leaned in close.

"you're an idiot." You grumbled, and started to explain. Before long, words were tumbling out of your mouth. You just couldn't stop yourself. It felt like everything was just piling up and overflowing, and you were scream-crying out all your feelings at Wheatley. He looked slightly taken aback, but listened to you while you let everything out.

"uh... Are you okay, love?" Wheatley tilted his head slightly while you sniffled. He moved forwards, and bumped himself against your chest.

"just hold me."

So you did. You sat down on the ground, and held Wheatley close.

Edgar:

You were having another relapse in bed. It wasn't pretty. Edgar was asleep, and you were tearing into your arms after a particularly bad episode. A part of you was cursing him for falling asleep on you, and a part of you was cursing yourself for expecting his attention. It hurt so damn much.

Edgar woke up, and one of his security cameras turned to look at you. His voice popped up on the intercom.

"Y/N? Y/N WHAT ARE YOU DOING!"

If he could, he'd be shaking. He knew you had some scars on your arms, but he'd never seen you actually cutting yourself before. It was horrifying!

"Y/N COME INTO THE LIVING ROOM! PLEASE!"

You tossed your razorblade aside and hurried to your feet, scrambling into the living room. Tears were streaming down your face and blood was running down your arms, but you were trying your best to assure Edgar.

"hey- hey! I'm fine! I'm alright!"

"No you're not. People who are alright don't try to hurt themselves." His face made a little frown. He knew from personal experience.

"Wake me up next time, okay?"

Edgar didn't leave you alone for long again. He started setting alarms on himself to make sure he always woke up before you, and only ever let himself fall asleep after you did. He texted you regularly during the day to make sure you were ok, too. If there was one thing Edgar was good at, it was obsessively keeping tabs on his lover.

[evilasiangenius]

“What do I do?” Crowley sighed, pulling his black pallium about himself closer. “When everything is ruined. Nothing’s going to bring the world back. Nothing’s going to bring Aziraphale–”

There were some other things that he could not say, thoughts that he could only think to himself because saying it would give it too much power and so he bit off the rest of the sentence before he could continue it. He opened his mouth to speak again, but then the starling flapped off his boot and onto the knuckles of his right hand, little sharp claws curled gently around his fingers.

“Yeah?” Crowley lifted his hand to look the bird in the eye, at the ring of an iris slightly pale.

“Fuck off,” the bird said very clearly, and it wasn’t a language that was any human language, but the language the angels spoke, fallen and otherwise, a universal language that could be understood by anyone.

“Huh,” Crowley said, staring at the bird that flew away and then turning his attention to fingers that seemed to retain the memory of the bird’s claws. The last time that a starling had perched on his hand was centuries ago. He had been lying on Aziraphale’s favorite supper couch, long hair tangled beneath his cheek, his eyes filled with tears and the starling had briefly landed upon his fingers before he shooed it away.

He had curled up in a tight ball upon that supper couch that he had never until that moment reclined upon alone, a miserable tear-streaked wreck, face pressed against the large cushions as if he could smother himself in it, picking up the lingering scent of Aziraphale’s hair, his body, a scent that was like the freshness of the cold air coming off the mountaintop or was it fire from a distant long-forgotten star and then the whiffs of peppery lavender that would waft snappy from Aziraphale’s clothes.

Back then, the pain had seemed like it would never end.

And perhaps it never did, because he could still feel it.

The birds were noisy.

Aziraphale had so many of them in that old house so long ago abandoned, none of them caged of course, the cages were only there for show, for propriety’s sake. The birds roamed free about his place though they all seemed to miraculously keep it clean.

The scents were noisy.

The house was filled with little bottles and big jars of precious scents that he had been opening out of curiosity and not bothering to close, so the air itself was a cacophony of flowers and herbs and resins and spices.

His thoughts were noisy.

All he could think of was how much he wanted Aziraphale to be here now, instead recalled Upstairs for some indeterminable time and maybe this time Aziraphale would never be allowed to return again and that fear had choked him up until it felt like he couldn’t breathe.

And back then, in a fit of rage at the loud sound of their cheerful singing as if the birds did not care that he was mourning, at the loud scents of the lovely perfumes stifling the air, choking his ability to mourn properly, at the loud fear inside his head that had grown to a fever pitch, his infernal will had slammed all the doors and windows open all at once.

“Get out! Now! Fuck off!” He had shouted, with a gesture so fierce it threw him off the couch and the birds had obeyed, disappearing out into the world.

Once he realized what he did – that he had broken his promise to Aziraphale to care for his birds, that he had chased off the very birds that had learned Aziraphale’s voice and his songs and his way of greeting – so warmly, as if he truly loved each and every being he said it to – Crowley had stayed there on the cold mosaic floor, his face pressed against a modest but tasteful work, a charioteer urging his team of two horses onward to victory though so close to it the pattern was meaningless to his eyes, nothing more than discrete chips of color. He had run his fingertips over the little bits of colored stone, around the smoothed edges of tesserae that darkened as his tears dripped hot upon cold stone, cold mortar.

Lost in memory, he didn’t hear Aziraphale approach.

more

[vesseloflukola]

Hello fellow Lukola shippers! I am here to tell you how I arrived on this ship, and offer you my, hopefully calm thoughts on how I continue to stay on this ship, continually unbothered.

I have loved Bridgerton from the first time I watched it back in 2020. I loved Colin, and especially Pen, from the very beginning. I read all of the books after watching that season and particularly fell in love with 2 of the books. I don’t have the energy at this time to talk about the second book I loved, so let’s concentrate on the first one, shall we? It was Colin and Pen’s story, of course. So, of course, I was delighted when I found out that their season would be moved up to season 3.

Now, I admit, as much as I loved the characters, and thought the actors were well cast, I was not truly excited until right before season 3 was released. Nicola and Luke’s names did not regularly roll off of my tongue as they do now. However, I was excited for the release of the first half of season 3 and started seeing TikTok video’s of them.

What was this? A world tour? With amazing interviews? How on earth did I not know that they had to REPRESS their chemistry!?! What? Wait! These two amazing people who can’t keep their hands to themselves and can’t keep their eyes from wandering are not somehow having a torrid love affair?

Well, I was a goner from that point on. My days were no longer my own. I absolutely HAD to find and watch every single video I had missed from every stop on the world tour so far. I had to know their back story. I had to find every picture I could. You would have thought it was my job to know everything I could about them. I learned a lot. Then I had to wait with everybody else for new interviews and new pictures to come out. It was hard being caught up, but then I could find out what the fans were talking about.

I truly believe that Nic and Luke love each other. They showed that love on the WT. They were both completely unhinged at times, and I loved every second of it. I also believe (based on his detailed memory from their first meeting) that Luke was drawn to Nic from the moment they first met and I think her feelings for him grew over time as they got to know each other better.

I know Luke had something with Antonia. I have personally been calling it a situationship. Obviously I don’t know any of these individuals, but from what we have been shown (by Luke in this case), it was completely casual. We have seen how he has been with past girlfriends and we have seen how he has been with Nic. In all cases he has been protective, warm, and happy around them. I have not seen a single picture (or video)of he and Antonia where he is any of those things. In fact, the few glimpses we have gotten of them together (especially the pap walk), he looked pretty miserable, or in some cases ambivalent at best. I am pretty positive he has not seen her since the Italy trip for his friend Rory’s birthday. I also think she is a true pest who wants everyone to believe what she had with Luke was a lot more than what it was and that it is still magically going on.

I think Jake is a good friend of Nics who accidentally got papped with Nic while Nic was being her regular friendly self. I think he is exactly who he (and his other friends) tried to portray himself to be before the Jakola’s tried to convince us otherwise. I think he is a good friend to Nic and in trying to protect her (from a certain DM) he ended up giving them exactly what they wanted to try to “prove” a relationship launch. I think he might have at some point tried to use that false narrative to try to get some notice, but I think it might have backfired and maybe (hopefully) he learned his lesson and is back in Nic’s good graces (which he appears to be after the friendly dinner pics we got recently). I’m just saying I don’t think Jake is a bad guy. I just don’t think he is dating Nic.

When all is said and done, I think Nic and Luke have been together since Chaos week in August. I think they are happy. I would love an announcement at some point, but I honestly don’t see us getting one any time soon. I will settle for the crumbs they are so lovingly willing to share. For now, I am only listening to what they have to tell us and not the noise of what anyone else chooses to release to try to disturb the fandom.

Sitting in my permanent seat on the ship.

[thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai]

Thank you for sharing your thoughts! <3

To be honest, I don't know. The stories I'm reading and those I have read have a quite consistent audience that writes many (and even quite a lot of detailed) comments while these stories are being updated. But I usually read in other fandoms, so I can't tell if the demographic of these fandoms is generally more supportive of their writers or if these writers just know how to engage their audience. However, when I look at the stats of a couple of stories in the YOI fandom that started around the same time as CYHMH (summer 2022), I'm not so sure that it's just fandom demographics. Back then, there was one new story that had 10 chapters out with like 200 comments and I even saw one that had only 2 chapters out but already 300 comments. So, even back then and a long time before the movie cancellation, it was pretty much still possible to excite readers (For the record: I didn't look around for too long to protect my mental health, so the data I have to base my impression on is very incomplete.) Now that I know that many fans are very vocal about wanting more canon content, including some in-between-the-episodes stuff which CYHMH has in abundance, I'm genuinely puzzled. Having heard about the success of other novelisations and sequels, I doubt that's just about original content.

Interestingly, the movie cancellation didn't impact my stats at all. At that time I had a long-wished for uptick in engagement (supposedly due to the fact that I had resumed posting the improved & beta'ed version, but I'm not sure of that) and that uptick held on until about two months after the cancellation. It made me hopeful that I had finally found a steady audience. Interestingly, shortly after the eros-off ice chapter [about 2 months after the cancellation], comments and hits/chapter dropped massively and basically back to the low level they had been at in 2022.

The story has 477 comments (I'm counting the threads, not the total number), which is about 10 comments/chapter on average. From the outside that looks really good. However, a lot of that is from either readers who discovered the story later and made an effort to comment each chapter plus the success it had during the first half of this year. And don't get me wrong, I'm so happy every time a reader takes their time to comment on chapters that had been posted long ago because many readers seem to think that writers don't care getting feedback for these although most of us crave that. In many cases that finally got me the kind of feedback that I would have desperately needed to keep going in 2022, and if I had gotten that back then, the long break wouldn't have happened. Because no matter how much I appreciate these later readers (they're 3 in total, including you and I love every one of you <3), I also need some support and engagement when I post these chapters to keep staying motivated and not being on the verge of quitting writing again because just sharing them had made me feel so miserable.

Right now, there's still some engagement left. But knowing my experience with writing a series for my last fandom (before AO3), engagement drops with every instalment. So if, at this point, there is already so little excitement for my take on the ending of the show and my take on a continuation, I just know from past experiences that it will go down even further for the sequel. And for me, that really begs the question of whether I want to expose myself to another bout of losing my joy for writing and contemplating quitting it because I've already been there often enough.

At this point, I'm just at a loss about what to do. I feel like I did already everything that I could and it's still nowhere near enough: I did tons of research for this story, especially regarding Japanese culture and figure skating. I conducted a meticulous canon analysis to ensure that the characters are in-character and that everything that I add is a logical extension of canon to make sure that this story "feels" like YOI. I worked with a beta-reader because English is not my first language and in those chapters I've posted in 2022 it really showed. I respond to every comment and thank the commenter. And I post previews with little success, at least here on tumblr (not sure what the people on twitter do with them). There's hardly anything I could still try and it's not working.

Okay, I need to get this out of my system.

I have planned to post the sequel to my YOI novelisation in exactly a month from now. My beta said that the sequel feels like an actual continuation of YOI and a friend is even drawing a cover picture, which is just so amazing. But the more I think about it, the more it seems like I'm bound to regret releasing this story a couple of weeks later.

I won't lie. CYHMH had the total opposite of a dream start. I even paused the story for an entire year to get a beta reader because I failed to keep my audience interested and concluded that it was obviously bad. Or maybe it only did so poorly because it can't compete with other novelisations. I don't know and I don't want to know because if I learned the truth, I would probably shoot myself.

The story has 600+ kudos, but that's not reflected in the hits/chapter at all despite all the improvements I've made. The number of hits/chapter which had skyrocketed for a brief time span earlier this year (aka after I resumed posting the improved version) has decreased by 75% since June and hasn't recovered since. Often, I lose bookmarks and subscriptions within hours after posting a new chapter, which couldn't be a more obvious feedback.

I see this loss in interest also reflected in my chapter announcements and previews (not they had ever been great to begin with). Often, I'm the only person reblogging them because rarely anyone else does. On the other hand, my post that I would postpone the latest chapter due to the US elections was so popular and the contrast to the reactions when I finally posted that chapter was so huge that I wonder if people just want me to shut up and stop posting. To be honest, not posting would save me a lot of time and spoons because, let's be frank: writing for a mostly silent audience is just not it. (I have a little bit more engagement on other socials, but the downwards trend is the same there.)

There are only three chapters of CYHMH left to post. The story is at its climax and seeing the lack of interest and enthusiasm so close to the end is just so fucking disheartening after putting so much work into this story which I call my love letter to YOI. Maybe I don't write the kind of stories that inspire the majority of its readers to gush about it, but a part of me had been hoping for at least some people to be thrilled that the chapter was finally out. Or to be at least excited about the sequel. And I can't decide whether my writing just sucks that much to most people, if you're just silent because you only talk about my stories in some exclusionist fic club, or whether a sequel is just not wanted or needed due to the fandom being already saturated with that kind of story.

Would you guys prefer that I stop posting? If you really want to read my YOI sequel or just anything for that matter, I beg you to tell me and to support me.

[eloquentsisyphianturmoil]

Maedhros built up a high pain resistance from Angband; particularly to the burning sensation. Considering how low he thinks of himself, it’s likely he expected the Silmaril to burn him. He didn’t think he was redemptive, he thought I can take it.

Part of why Maedhros acts so viciously is because that’s how life treated him. I can take it if my brothers die. I can take it if I’m damned for eternity. I can take it if everybody thinks I’m a monster.

He’s proud, and he’s suffering. He won’t back down, he will succeed or be martyred.

[lavellane]

finished rogue trader. so mad about it i had to take a nap and then start a whole new playthru again to cope <3

[sysig]

Let me chew you out a little, since we have a couple minutes (Patreon)

[Panel 1] Prismo: *mumble* *mumble*

[Panel 2] Prismo: *mumble*

[Panel 3] Simon: Hmph. “Just because it’s in your head-”

[Panel 4] Simon: “-Doesn’t mean it’s yours,” huh?

[Panel 5] Simon: Give me all the responsibility with none of the privileges?

[Panel 6] Simon: And then you get mad at me for trying to pick up your slack? Prismo: Hey...

[Panel 7] Simon: Clearly you already expect that much from me!

[Panel 8] Prismo: Hey, hey! I did the best with what I had! I didn’t expect any of this!

[Panel 9] Simon: And yet you didn’t even consider telling me, so we could’ve avoided this?

[Panel 10] Prismo: It’s not like I could’ve just- taken it out! I was locked out!

[Panel 11] Simon: You could’ve done something!

[Panel 12] Simon: Instead you let my life spiral around this thing, kept me tethered to Ice King’s Madness-

[Panel 13] Prismo: Fionna and Cake are real thou- Simon: NOW you tell me! After I find out for myself!

[tamagotchikgs]

looking at the scar on my arm everyday feels like a reminder im never going to be ok, im never going to be human i ruined it after all the years i held myself back i finally severed the line i had at any chance of one day belonging

[nomairuins]

bedtime nowww probably ummm today qas not what i wanted it 2 be but its fine. i dont feel negative just a very very very numb day which is almost worse. but only almost 🙏