#I have different reasons for reading it at different times
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Astarion doesn't ask for affection because he can't..... yet.
Ah, more tea steeping in this seeming endless sea of thoughts. This brew is a bit strong on the heart. Read with caution.
Warning for game spoilers and talk of abuse.
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This perspective is from game content only. How anybody cannons their relationships or behaviors is perfectly right. No blame, no shame, it's your game.
I was always miffed at the lack of initiated affection from Astarion as a partner. YOU ask him for a kiss. YOU ask him for a hug. YOU ask him to tell you thank you after being an amazing partner and killing a massive beastie just for him! Brat...
But then I had a sudden realization. Given his past, affection is probably insanely hard to ask for. Like it can be for a lot of us.
Stay awhile and listen. (nerd)
Now when I speak of narcissistic abuse I am only speaking from what I know about it. I have no academic or phycology degree on the matter. Just good ol' tossed in the pond and forced to sink or swim experience.
Astarion spent 200 years under the crushing weight of narcissistic / psychopathic abuse. One of the things these types of abusers love to do is take what you love and make you hate it and then make you hate yourself for ever having liked it to begin with. All very nasty business that. But it's one of the main corner stones for the cage they build to control you.
They make you feel as if the request of a simple hug is the most pathetic thing you could ask for. Or the most selfish thing as it inconveniences them. They don't want it, why should they give it to you?
Shame, belittle, degrade, devalue..
200 years with a master who used him like a tool. 200 years with siblings that fought amongst each other so much comfort was a liability. Nights coming home assaulted only to be mocked for your tears. Insulted for your need of comfort.
"Pathetic! Weak! Disgusting! "
Shame, belittle, degrade, devalue..
Affection was nowhere to be found there, I assure you.
And for a Narc. anything given is expected to be "earned" in any way they see fit. And if you were "rewarded" with anything, it comes at high price.
And how dare you not find it fair. You ingrate!
Shame, belittle, degrade, devalue..
Hugs are pathetic. Kisses are an intrusion. Or they become gateways to other unwanted behaviors. To be held...what are you? A baby? The only way you are going to get held, is down.
Shame, belittle, degrade, devalue.. The pattern continues.
But you ask HIM for a kiss. And he says..
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"There is nothing I'd like more."
And he means it.
I'd bet a mountain of gold he wants to just ask you himself. But years of conditioning to expect pain when seeking pleasure probably keeps him in a choke hold. Like rats that are shocked every time they try to eat food out of a dish. They learn it is safer to starve.
"I want to ask Tav for a kiss or a hug, but they might think i'm weak. But if they ask me first then it's them who wants it and they can't degrade me for it because they asked, not me. It's safe then."
"I want to ask Tav for a kiss or hug, but they might reject me for being too needy and shame and berate me for being so selfish or demanding of their time and person. But if they ask they have time and want me to kiss/hug them."
"I want to ask Tav for a kiss or a hug, but my primal brain keeps telling me they might demand more than I want to give in return for it. But if they ask, I have the power of negotiating the outcome."
This leads me to believe he would view sex and affection very differently as well.
Where most find affection safe and nurturing, it's anxiety educing and unsafe. It means there are feelings and if there are feelings there is the risk and fear of rejection or judgment. It's much scarier.
Where most find sex to be connecting and intimate, it's been used so much it's lost any meaning. Something you can do a thousand times over and walk away the second it's done and feel nothing afterward.
This may even be a part of the reason why he wants to stop having sex.
He wants to connect with you in ways denied to him. He wants the experience of being courted, treasured, nurtured. It means so much more to him than sex. It is so much more connecting.
Feeling this way is wretched and lonely. The most basic instinct is to want to seek comfort in the arms of those who love us. But it's broken. The risk is too great.
And it's hard. Because you could be the sweetest most honorable Tav in the whole of Fearun. But after being fed poised apples one too many times, all apples appear poisonous regardless of if is true or not.
I have no doubt that this prickly elf soaks up every second of non sexual affection you give him. And truly is grateful for your patience while he slowly and carefully disarms the safety measures he put in place to survive. The fact that he even allowed you to touch him like that at all was a monumental act of trust. And why not? You are incredible after all.
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I'm going to go ask my elf for a kiss now. And then cry in my cup.
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caughtthedarkness93 · 15 hours ago
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Seriously!
I tear it apart because it gives me new ways to love it.
Returning to a beloved classic years later and finding a new way it speaks to you because you learned something new that lends it entirely novel context.
Talking to a friend of yours who examines things through a totally different lens. Someone who doesn't share your identity or has had different life experiences from you or something like that might pull something you never would have seen about a piece of art and completely change the way you see it.
Watching it and seeing how it's in conversation with other art that's trying to do something similar.
Working on something and being horribly stuck, and then some movie or book you're returning to or reading for the first time unlocks something in your own work that gets you past that roadblock.
Breaking down the details of what specific artistic decisions make it so good and applying those lessons to your own creative work.
There's something joyful in each of these practices, something that pulls more and more and more out of these pieces of art and makes you appreciate them more and more over time.
And yeah, sometimes that means finding something you don't like about it. But sometimes you find there's an artistic reason that makes it deeper than you thought and throws it into a new perspective, or you just...simply accept the fact that you can dislike things about something you otherwise love. No piece of art is perfect. But just because you find a flaw in something, even a glaring one, doesn't mean it's ruined. Edgar Wright's really bad at writing women a lot of the time. The female characters in his films often have little agency or development. Baby Driver has this problem too. Doesn't mean it's not a joyful film to experience that I found so relatable to my own experiences with autism. Just because a piece of art has flaws doesn't make it bad.
i find it so interesting how people act like "critically examining a piece of media" is the opposite of "enjoying that piece of media." rip to you but i actually find it really enjoyable and compelling to dissect and think through the art i engage with
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hypokeimena · 1 day ago
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it makes me so so crazy when people are like the existence of magic means that you need to do science to the world harder. this is common in portal power fantasies and also i'm back to reading dogshit hp fic for the fascism essay and it's so common there too. but.
if magic is real i don't know why you'd double down on science (a worldview which doesn't account for magic being real) instead of trying to come up with something interesting to say
scientific rationalism is an incredibly modern worldview and while it's challenging to take yourself out of it bc it's how the vast majority of us were. raised and educated and acculturated. it does feel genuinely disrespectful to the. humanity of people who lived in the past, to me.
like there's plenty of things where historical people were incorrect about the causes or effects of things. but an attempt to make sense of the world that accounts for "things we don't fully understand" is maybe a reasonable approach to bring to things we don't understand yet. including things that are obvious metaphors with some component of truth to them. so like.
do i have ptsd bc of biological changes to my brain. do i have ptsd bc spirits are attacking me. is there a difference.
and it's not like people don't still engage in magical thinking all the time but they pretend it's based on science. like the way people (general people, popular science, not subject matter specialists) talk about chemicals in the brain is absolutely not supported by the actual science, which is a lot better at admitting when it doesn't know something than the popular imagination would like to believe. humans rely on metaphors and stories and things that Feel true in order to make sense of the world and we always have and we always will.
tl:dr you are not better than a peasant from the 1600s because you are lucky enough to have been required to attend a school that taught you the scientific method.
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sugurusfavemonkey · 20 hours ago
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A Helping Hand (Part 2) read part 1 here summary: after a long winding wait you and Gojo finally take your relationship to bed the next level. pairing: Satoru Gojo x reader word count: 4.2k warnings: MDNI; fluff and love confessions, cursing, oral (female receiving), creampie (this is a work of fiction, wrap it before you tap it irl!); rough s&x; canon divergence - both Gojo and reader are over 18 when Gojo takes in the Fushiguro siblings.
a/n: I lied, put your clothes back on... we're going on a fluff ride (roughly 1.5k words) before the sexy bits make an appearance (the other 2.7k), because, apparently, I cannot control myself once I start writing.
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Unfortunately for you and Gojo, things did NOT progress as expected that night.
Tsumiki insisted they should help you with the cleaning after dinner and dessert and then launched into animated retelling of the debate club happening earlier that day as she dutifully dried the dishes you handed her.
It was many hours later before the kids finally went to their beds.
You put both of them to bed with a forehead kiss - the embarrassed blush on Megumi's cheeks never failing in making you chuckle - and  you were exhausted by then, hand covering a big yawn that had Satoru laughing.
He threw his arm over your shoulders, using the leverage to pull you away from the kids' bedroom as he closed the door behind you with his free hand.
"Tired?" 
"Completely wiped." you admitted, letting your head fall onto his shoulder, the realization of just how well you fit under his arm making you giddy "I'm sorry."
"What for?"
"Well, I guess I just wanted to have a wild first night with my new boyfriend, but I don't think I could even fathom the idea of keeping up with his stamina right now."
"This boyfriend of yours sounds like a dream."
"Except when he's being a self-centered dimwit." 
You tried to untangle yourself from under his arm, but Satoru had a different idea. He bent his knees until he could reach with his free arm underneath your knees and picked you up before you had time to protest, a yelp of surprise the only noise you managed to release as your own arms found support around his neck, and adjusted the arm around your shoulders to better support you on his hold. 
"I'm sure he has good reason to think so highly of himself." Satoru spoke as he rearranged his hold to support your weight in one arm, allowing himself to open the door to the other bedroom. 
"Stop praising yourself, Gojo." You chastised as he kicked the door shut as soon as you crossed the threshold.
"Nuh-uh. That's Satoru to you. We went over that already." 
"Not when you're being insufferable, no." Your words were barely discernible through the yawn you let out as you let yourself relax against him. 
"Hmm. Let's get you to bed, sweets."
"Yeah? You gonna do unspeakable things to me in the master bedroom, Gojo?" Your words were slurred, breath fanning teasingly against his neck, eyelids heavy with sleep.
"It's Satoru," he insisted, "and no. Not tonight. Even though I'd like nothing else than taking you, you're so sleepy you sound drunk right now."
"Look at you being all gentlemanly. I though Nanami was the last one left of those." 
"Why are you bringing up Nanamin when we're talking about sex?!"
"You jealous?" you hummed, eyes already closed.
"Pfff! As if I had any reason to be jealous of that nerdy emo."
"I don't know... I think he has his charms." Satoru unceremoniously dropped you on the bed just you you finished uttering those words. "Ah!"
"That's for talking about other men in my presence."
"Oh my god, Satoru! Are you really going to be that much of a possessive boyfriend?" 
"Too late to back off now, sweets." He playfully stated, leaning over you before dropping to the other side of the bed and making you bounce on the mattress again.
You turned your head, staring at his annoyingly perfect side profile.
"Why do you always call me that?" Satoru has always used that pet name when referring to you and though you always wondered the nickname's origins that was the first time you proffered the question aloud. 
"You know how much I love my sweets."
"Who would have thought you could be so corny? I'm serious, Satoru."
"So am I," he turned his head to face you as well, "I think I've loved from the moment we've met." his small confession has your heart stuttering in your chest.
"Now, that just can't be true. If I remember correctly, you called me weak and said I'd never be able to keep up with you and Su-" you cut yourself off before you said something that would potentially strike a sour note. 
Still, you weren't fast enough. You saw the moment Satoru's face fell, his expression becoming somber. He looked away from you and cleared his throat.
"Yeah, well... everyone is weak compared to me."
You sighed bitterly, annoyed at yourself for spoiling the moment.
"I shouldn't ha-"
"You're not-"
The both of you started at the same time, pausing once you realized the other was also talking. Satoru was the one to break the tense silence following the sudden standstill: 
"I was wrong. You're not weak. You never were." his voice was quiet, serious. So different to his usual laidback disposition.
"I mean, I'll never really get anywhere near your level."
"Still. You're strong. You're efficient and resourceful. And you care. You care so much sometimes I'm scared you'll wear yourself thin. Just like- just like him." Somehow you knew he wasn't just talking about your prowess as a sorcerer.
"Satoru. Baby. Look at me." You pleaded, turning your entire body this time and tenderly grasping his chin, coaxed him into looking your way once more.
"I'm not leaving." You stared intently into his impossibly blue eyes as you made the vow. "You won't get rid of me that easily."
His hand found yours on his face and gently entwined your fingers before guiding them to his lips, where he placed a soft kiss to your knuckles.
You're not sure if he ever said anything in reply because you soon doze off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.
。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。
Satoru was no longer in bed with you when you woke up the next morning to a chime on your phone.
You sighed and sprawled onto your back, hand skimming over your face to find creases in the shape of the ruffled pillowcase and a bit of dried drool at the corner of your lips before finally picking up the offending gadget to 4 new messages from one strongest hoe🫸🟣:
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Leave it to Satoru to make you go from embarrassed to delighted in less than a minute.
。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。
You spent the rest of your Saturday with Megumi and Tsumiki, thankful you weren't summoned for anything. You were suspicious it had something to do with Gojo, he probably took on more curses just to spare you. It would explain the two whole days of a job when he usually handled curses in less than a minute.
Sunday came around and Satoru called you by noon, letting you know he threatened the elders into leaving the two of you free at least up until Monday and asked Shoko to watch over the kids for the night.
"Huh. This damn curse is tougher than I thought. Gotta go finish the job. See ya tonight. Love ya, sweets!" He ended the call before you even processed his words, your heart skipping a beat.
。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。
You had left Tsumiki and Megumi back at the apartment in Saitama with Shoko and went back to your own home in Tokyo to get ready for your first date with Satoru a few hours before.
The clock had just hit 7pm and you were anxiously pacing the living room back and forth when there was a knock to your door.
"I love you." You snapped as soon as you opened the door for him.
"That would have been awkward if it wasn't me. What happened to hello?" Satoru laughed extending the bouquet of red roses in his hands to you.
"You fucking hung up on me before I could say it back and this has been hammering in my head ever since." you explained with a small shrug, cheeks going warm in spite of your attempt at nonchalance as you took the offered flowers to arrange them in a vase.
Satoru waited until you put the arrangement on the center of your dinning room table before his hands found your waist and he glued his chest you back.
"Say that again." his lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, his warm breath causing a shiver to go down your spine, your hands finding support on the table when your legs went weak.
"Say what exactly?"
"Don't tease me, sweets." His warm lips leisurely glided down, purposefully leaving butterfly kisses to the column of your throat. You gasped, head falling back against his shoulder leaving your neck open to his relentless assault.
"I l-love you, Satoru." You mumbled brokenly.
His grasp on your waist went impossibly tight, his breath stuttering and a low groan erupting from his chest.
"You have no idea what you do to me, sweets."
He sounded absolutely wrecked and the knowledge that you were the one causing Gojo Satoru to lose his cool made you throw you caution to the wind. You push your hips back against him and, sure enough, you can feel his hardness pressing into you.
"Hmm. I think I may have an idea." You crooned teasingly
"Brat!" He reward your taunt with a bite to the junction of your shoulder to your neck, immediately followed by his tongue lapping away at the harsh sting. "Have I mentioned how fucking stunning you look right now? I mean, you're always hot, but this look... I just wanna bend you over and fuck you right on this table."
"And what's stopping you?"
"I don't know, maybe the reservation I made for our dinner in 30 minutes." Even though Satoru tried to stop your advances, the way his hips kept lazily rocking against yours sent a different message. He nuzzled against your neck, inhaling the sweet perfume you sprayed just for him and mumbling something about how you smell good enough to eat under his breath.
"I can't think of a lot of things we can accomplish in 30 minutes."
"Ugh! You'll be the death of me. I'm trying to be responsible for once here!" He nearly whined.
You turned around in his grasp and had to crane your head to look into his eyes with the way he looms over you "Gojo. I don't need a fancy restaurant date. I think we're way past that anyway. I just need you."
He seemed conflicted, eyes searching yours through the dark sunglasses still perched to his nose.
"Please."
"Fuck it." Your last plea was all it took to break his resolve.
In a flash, Satoru had hoisted you up and sat you at the edge of the table, slotting himself in in between your parted legs and lips taking yours possessively, his tongue shoving itself into your mouth, savoring your taste. You opened up for him readily. His hands were wandering all over you, grabbing you like he owns you.
When you finally did part ways, you felt his thumb tracing your swollen bottom lip and staring at the glistening skin in a daze for a moment before his eyes flicked up to meet yours.
"I wanna taste you. Will you let me taste you, sweets?" Satoru's hands found and toyed with the button to your pants, eyes begging silently for your assent.
You nodded mutely, throat suddenly dry.
The green light you gave was all the encouragement he needed to drop to his knees, finger dexterously popping open the button and sliding down the zipper before nearly pawing the offending piece of clothing down your legs. Satoru didn't have the patience to remove your boots, so the cloth remained bunched up at your ankles. He nibbled at the skin of your inner thigh, slowly inching closer to where you needed him the most.
"'toru!" You whined, letting yourself fall back against the table, head knocking loudly against the wood.
"What is it, sweets? What do you want."
"Touch me!"
"But I am touching you."
"You little- Aw!" You complained when he bit into your thigh as a warning, head lifting from the table to glare half-heartedly at the man in between your thighs.
"Watch it." Satoru alerted, a dangerous glint on his electric blue eyes.
"Ugh. Fine." You relented, not wanting to test him that night. You'd have plenty of time for that on other occasion. "Touch my pussy, Satoru."
"Have you no manners?" He rested his cheek against your thigh, his earlier rush hidden beneath his commitment to have you begging for him.
"Pleas- Oh my god!" You bellowed when he finally dove in, practically french kissing your pussy. His tongue easily found your clit, making random shapes against the bundle of nerves that had you seeing stars behind closed eyelids.
He moaned loudly and shamelessly when your hand found purchase on his soft white hair, encouraging you to pull harder as his own fingers dug into the soft skin of your thighs.
Satoru let go of your hips to hitch your legs up, spread your thighs wider and then one of his hands roamed down until he's brushing your entrance, whining pathetically at the slick that gathered on the finger prodding at your hole. The muscles on your thighs tightened in response and you forced yourself up on your elbows so you could take the delicious show playing out down there.
His free hand reached underneath your sweater, slowly gliding upwards, finger teasing the edge of your bra while his mouth changed its path and traveled up and under your sweater, kissing, licking, nibbling at the skin of your tummy and ribs. The comical sight of his head disappearing beneath the warm fabric had a giggle bubbling up at his silliness, but the feeling of the pad of his thumb striking wet and sticky across your clit draws out a sound deep from your chest instead, something sweet and guttural that made Satoru wish he could record to hear over and over again.
Gojo pulled your bra down and didn't waste a second before taking one of your nipples in his warm mouth.
You were squirming as he pressed down on your clit just hard enough. A cry left your lips as the fingers of his other hand pinched your nipple.
His actions made it seem as if he's not sure where to touch first, like a man starved, Satoru needs to feel all of you. Without warning, both hands found the edge of your sweater pulling it up and off you.
"You're so hot." Satoru sounded winded, wide eyes traveling all over your body in awe.
"Toru. I need you, please." You begged, still supporting yourself on your elbows, but you felt like they might give out at any minute with how weak the man made you.
Satoru smirked deviously and you nearly regretted pleading with him, knowing he was scheming something.
"I Got you, sweets" was all he said before abruptly picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder, hand smacking your ass with a resounding slap sound. Your shriek only making him laugh. "Let's move this to bed so I can fuck you into the mattress."
Soon you joined in on his laughter even as he jolts you around. Just as it has always been, Satoru has a way of making any moment with you lighter.
When you reached your bedroom he thoughtfully places you on the mattress, kneeling by the bed to help you with your boots and finally remove the pants and underwear that has still been stuck at your ankles.
Once you were completely bare you expected him to do the same, instead he passed you by and sat down against the headboard, patting his lap excitedly when you twist around to follow his movements.
"You're still too dressed, Toru." You frowned.
"Yeah, and? Come here before I make you, brat."
Even though you were unsure of what he had planned, you trusted Satoru enough to do as he told you to. You got up and walked around the bed, slightly sheepish at your stated of undress, but the astonished look on his face gave you enough confidence to move forward.
You went to sit on his lap, but Gojo is faster, hands picking you up by your waist and setting you down, knees on each side of his legs, so you have no choice but to settle your hands on his shoulders to keep your balance.
Satoru hummed in delight as he pushed you back and forth until you got the idea. You braced your hands against his chest, your hips taking up the rocking against his hard length through his dress pants, your bare slit dripping all over his bulge.
“That’s it, sweets,” Satoru grunted, eyes hungrily following your movement “Get yourself nice and wet and ready for me. Rub your sweet little cunt all over my cock.” At his urging, you rolled your hips harder, eyes falling closed as you took your pleasure from his body.  
Your knees spread even further so you could press down on him harder, your slick staining his pants.
When you opened your eyes, you found Satoru's blue stare already on you, an overjoyed smile etched onto his face.
"I'm gonna fuck you so deep you're gonna be feeling me for weeks."
You moaned at the dark promise, unconsciously speeding up your hips as your hands grasped the lapels of his shirt in tight fists.
"Does the thought turn you on, sweets?" His hips thrust up from below, forcing another moan from your lips.
“Oh god,” you moaned, letting your head loll back. But Satoru wasn’t having none of that. He brought his hand to your throat, tugging your head until you had no choice but to meet his blazing gaze.
"Hmmm... I wanna feel you, Toru." You sobbed, desperate for more. “I need it—I need you, please.”
In an instant, Satoru had pushed you onto your back, one of his hands pinning you to the bed by your throat as he forcefully snapped his hips against yours.
You reached up, yanking at the buttons of his shirt and pulling it free from his slacks with a hushed demand "off."
"I should have know you would be bossy even when underneath me." He chuckled, letting go of you momentarily to shrug off the shirt. Meanwhile, you went for his belt, deft fingers unbuckling it before unbuttoning and pulling the zipper on his pants down. "Eager much?"
"Satoru. We've been dancing around each other for years, you can't blame me for being impatient now."
"Trust me. I get it." He licked his lips, eyes damn near burning a path through your skin as his gaze travelled your form. "You have no idea how many times I've pictured you just like that, naked and wet for me."
Nothing could have prepared you for the sight of him bare. You watched intently as he hastily stood up to kick off his shoes before pushing his pants, underwear and socks down and throwing it all behind himself. Revealing corded thighs and a magnificent long, twitching cock, so big you were glad you were wet and ready for him.
A soft smirk played on your lips as he leaned over you, one knee between your legs, arms caging you in against the comforter.
He gripped his cock and rubbed the bulbous tip up and down your slit, teasing your clit and making you whimper. You rocked your hips up against his dick, trying to find the angle to take him inside you. When that didn’t work, you resorted to begging, whimpering, “I'm so empty. I need you inside me, please Toru."
"Yeah, want me to fill you up sweets?"
You nodded, tangling your legs behind him and attempting to draw him in. For once in your life, you cursed his superior strength, because he sure was having a great time making you desperate for his cock.
“Toru,” you cried on a gasp, your arms around his neck trying to pull him closer, trying to bury yourself inside his rib cage alongside his heart. "Please!”
"Since you asked so nicely..."
Satoru captured your lips, pouring his passion and desire for you into a searing kiss. As his lips slid against yours, he pressed the tip against your entrance. 
He drank down your sounds of pleasure as he pushed inside you, inch by inch. You broke away with a gasp when it became too much.
"You're taking me so well, sweets." He mumbled almost incoherently.
Brows knitted and thighs trembling, your eyes didn’t leave his as you basked in the shattering, yet sublimely pleasurable sensation, slowly allowing yourself to relax around him.
Gentle caresses to your tight nub made you feel like the smallest push could tip you over edge and into ecstasy. Tight circles that didn't relent until he could bury himself inside you entirely, the air getting punched out of your lungs.
"Fuck. So tight for me." Satoru remarked with a low moan at the feeling of your walls firmly hugging his dick. "You good?" He checked when you didn't say anything.
"Y-yeah. You can move."
It started off slow but worked up to a gentle but intense rhythm soon enough.
"You feel so fucking good." Satoru praised, one hand moving to hold onto your wrists and push them together against the bed above your head.
"Satoru. Don't stop. Please, don't stop."
"Don't worry." He rasped, "I don't plan to stop any time soon." timing the words with each frantic drive of his hips, gradually picking up speed until you felt his heavy sack slapped feverishly against you.
His girth stretched you out and filled you to the brink with each hard stroke until there were tears trickling down your cheeks.
"You crying?" Satoru quipped, peering down at you with a smirk.
You swore you would have slapped him if your hands weren't being held down by the very man torturing you with pleasure. You couldn't even respond, only unintelligible garble spilling past your lips.
"What? Have a fucked you dumb, sweets?"
Instead of allowing you time to recoup, Satoru gave into whatever restraint had been holding him back and lost himself in the pleasure of your warmth, thrusting with abandon. He just kept going until your moans turned into cries, the lewd and sloppy sonance of your coupling reverberating throughout the otherwise quiet room. His free hand rubbing at your clit and, too fast for your liking, sending your body straight to cloud nine. 
Satoru let his forehead rest against yours, his blue eyes staring deeply into yours while he rutted into your body.
The pleasure you felt so grand it had you trying to scoot away, but Satoru was unwavering in his foraging, "Nuh-uh, come back here." he mumbled dropping kiss after kiss to your lips.
"I-I can't. It's too much. Too bi-big!"
"You can do it, sweets. You're doing so-" He moaned, "good. You can give me one more. C'mon."
The grasp keeping your hands in place relented as his fingers extended, entwining with yours and making the experience that much more meaningful.
Your free hand went straight to his back, nails finding residence sliding down his back, a move which rewarded you with a hiss from the white haired sorcerer. Your legs wrapped around the backs of his thighs helped you meet him thrust for thrust, the two of you writhing together in a frenzy.
He looked at you like you were something meant to be cherished, his lips finding yours with wordless devotion, his tongue slipping into your mouth to slide against yours decadently, making your body thrum with pleasure.
It wasn't long before your eyes were rolling back into your skull and you sensed your thighs begin to tremble once more as you fell over the edge, white heat running through your veins and stars exploding in your vision. Satoru let go once he felt your walls fluttering widely against his cock and buried himself inside with a final thrust forward, warm ropes of cum painting your insides as he traded the firm motions of his thumb with a gentle bit of contact and, finally, halting it all to a complete standstill.
He fell forward, but still made sure not to completely smash you in a sweaty and jumbled pile. Your thighs were still quivering when Satoru slid out of you and turned the both of you around so you lied on top of him, his fingers brushing against the skin of your back soothingly.
"Holy fuck." it's all you can say at first.
"Second that."
And then you're both laughing breathlessly, because there's so much love and happiness and oxytocin laden in that moment that you just feel high on it.
"I can't believe we haven't done this before." Satoru chortled, dropping a tender kiss to your head. "How am I suppose to get anything done now?"
"Get your head out of the gutter!" You chastised half-heatedly "I need some time to recover in between sessions. Speaking of which... I'm kinda hungry right now. Is it too late for that reservation now?"
"By nearly two hours, I'd say."
"Whatever. We can just order in."
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a/n: this was much harder than I thought it would be to write. How do smut writers do it regularly??
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saras-almanac · 2 days ago
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So I’ve been sitting on my feelings about the BuckTommy breakup and handling of it for a while, trying to get my thoughts in order. And after a while of thinking on it—and the recent Lou interview dropping making me feel like my feelings are valid—kind of made me want to just blurt them all out and hope for the best. So this is that.
Ultimately the entire handling of the BuckTommy breakup feels cruel. And not just cruel in an intentional way, but cruel in a casually, not even given any thought cruelty, which is worse sometimes. And to be honest, I think that’s part of why I’ve been struggling with it so much. (That and the echoes of Magicians season 4, which if you know you know).
What I mean by cruelty is just the lack of any real effort or care put into this storyline, one that they had previously been handled with so much care and concern and were praised (rightly so) for at the time. It’s the way they introduce this Tommy as Abby’s ex thing, which makes hardly any sense at all, but also feels cruel in the intention of laughing at the invisible string of fate theory between them. It’s they way that they’re 6 months anniversary and not only have they not talked about this, but Buck (Evan Buckley) didn’t get him a gift that feels cruel because that feels so wildly out of character for him. It’s the way they had the break up play into some bisexual stereotypes at best and inherently biphobic at worst by having Maddie suggest Abby turned him gay or that Buck needs to “explore” things to figure out what he wants or that Buck “Doesn’t know what pond to jump back into” of it all. (Not to mention the comments from OS about wanting Buck to fuck—which I’m not getting into because I didn’t read it and as a bisexual woman, don’t feel the need to go and try to find something that might upset me more.)
All those reasons are why the breakup itself is cruel to the characters, but it’s also cruel to those of us watching, and especially to anyone and everyone who loved and/or related to the character of Tommy, who we see walk away much much worse off than when we found him. It’s the way the story (intentionally or not) is framing it like a romcom break up – make up – pining storyline which they apparently are not doing according to interviews. It’s the way they didn’t give any sort of closure to Tommy for the character or for the audience.
There’s a reason that people lose themselves in stories—it’s because they follow certain rules and contracts. It’s expected that stories do not match up to real life because while things don’t have bigger meanings in life or they don’t work out according to plan, in stories, everything happens for a reason. Because that’s the whole point of what you’re consuming. And along with that, emotional moments are meant to feel cathartic in a way, at least eventually, because you were able to see the bigger picture, to feel the finality to things, and to really understand what’s being said and what’s happening. This breakup does none of that and actually seems to have been included and rushed for shock value and that to me, is just shitty, lazy writing.
If you were going to break them up and have no desire for any sort of reunion or closure, why not make it intentional? Tommy could be the one who wants marriage and kids and settling down and Buck internally freaks out because theoretically he wants that but maybe it’s too soon and as much as Tommy loves Buck, he’s not going to wait around and hope that Buck feels the same for him because he’s been hurt too many times like that. Or Tommy could be leaving for another state because he’s no longer going to be a firefighter or needs to go for family reasons or gets a job at a different station that he applied for ages ago and he has everything all set up and isn’t going to ask Buck to leave his entire life for Tommy, so they decide to breakup even if it hurts both of them. In either of those cases, it’s sad and devastating, but at least there would be some closure to it and understanding of it for both the characters and the audience and some peace knowing that at least these two are going to be moving toward happiness in whatever way that means for them.
Instead, what we have, is a hail-mary last-second breakup that comes out of nowhere and feels abrupt and crappy in the way we leave Tommy specifically because we might never see him again. And that is the crux of the issue. Because the way this was written, the understanding is that they are going to get back together or reunion or at least have that final closure conversation—because that’s what happens in stories. We see this type of surprise breakups, breakups where they issue is they love each other too much and are afraid to go further (Athena/Bobby and Maddie/Chimney to name two examples we saw in universe) only to eventually fight to be together and realize that if they don’t take a chance they might never know how amazing it is. So the fact that it’s set up to follow this same path while nearly every interview is telling the opposite, again demonstrates that casual cruelty as well as an inherent failure on the writing. If you have to go in interview and explain what it is you wrote or are telling, then you have failed as a writer. It’s really as simple as that.
This breakup doesn’t feel set up or foreshadowed, it just feels like they added it on because they didn’t want to do anything more with it? And that feels incredibly crappy as a decision to so many people who related to Buck and Tommy and them coming out later in life and all those other things. I’m rambling and on my phone and feeling a lot of things that I can’t fully express right now, but the long and short of it: If this was always intended to be the final time we see Tommy, this breakup is even crueler than intended.
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glypt0don · 2 days ago
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So, this is quite a rant. You can skip to the bottom, if you want to know my opinion but don't want to read that much... But I worked hard on it and I think it's important, so it would make me very happy if you read through the whole text.
So this fits into something I wanted to post about anyway: a broader theme of why do we frame things as wars? Like, why is it culture war, specifically. First I liked the concept, I thought it described something quite complicated reasonably easily. But I pondered on it a bit more and I think there's more going on.
It's pretty trivial, that most societies went through a huge change over the last half century. It's not just feminism. I could make a whole list of things we as a people took on. Anti-racism and civil rights, religious acceptance, global trade, reinterpreting the meaning of peace, connecting the word through the world-wide web, etc. We ( or, as I am barely an adult and have no idea how to change things for the better, I should say you, or maybe chat) decided it was time for change, so change came. You brought it about.
And I agree. Change WAS and IS necessary. What that change should entail, well, we all have our ideas, right? And they have the ugly tendency to differ from each other. The question then is, how do we coincide our contradictory ideas on society? The answer is both worrying and very important.
To be fair, our race doesn't have a great track record on solving these kinds of issues. I dug into my historical knowledge, since, you know, those who don't learn from it, repeat it... The only thing I can compare to what's happening today would be the Reformation (which probably says a lot about my historical knowledge). That's the only time I know, where societal assumptions were altered so much in such a short time. That time it was specifically about the Catholic church (if you don't know, what I'm talking about, you really should, so Google it), and the result was a series of wars, that ultimately may have wiped out about a fifth of Europes population. The wars were of course led by powerful men, who capitalised on the divide to further their own goals.
As back then, now too, we can't rely on institutions to tame the public. Many media and political identities have a direct interest in polarising society. Because that's what happens. All these contentious issues about gender, class, or foreign policy become dividing lines between folks who are supposed to be parts of the same whole (call it community, state, nation or humanity, depending on how wide you can think). You know, how it works, probably saw it a few times, whatever your interests are. It's literally everywhere! We fight it out with the perceived enemy of the week sometimes, when there is an election, something notable happens, or it's simply Pride Month. Then everyone goes back to their respective corners, where they vehemently agree with themselves. We don't talk a lot, just throw words at each other, like Buggs Bunny, playing tennis with a dynamite.
I should say, this post is a notable and refreshing outlier. Thanks, @trans-androgyne , for starting a discussion for a change!
I know, it's a bit like nuclear armament. You can't just stop, because THEY won't, and then they win, and you can't allow that. It's life and death! And I don't have some magic pill to make it all go right, or believe me, I wouldn't sit here, typing this out at 3 in the morning Central European Time. But let me propose this: don't call it a war! Neither culture war, nor gender war, nor anything like that. Because this isn't a war. Just ask anyone in the middle east! They can tell you, what is war, and THIS IS NOT IT! And also, because it may not be guns and destruction yet, but nothing guarantees, that it stays that way. We already had multiple attempted takeovers of capital buildings since this cursed decade began, because our social reality became so fragmented, that you can't accept the results of a popular election anymore. That should raise alarm bells. I know it does, but it can be much worse! Learn from history, do not repeat it! Hit the Wiki page on the Huguenot war! On the siege of Magdeburg. Or, if that's not your cup of tea, watch Civil War! I genuinely think it's the best movie of the year.
Call it Social Discourse! That sounds much more manageable, doesn't it? Or you can come up with something else, as long as it isn't some warmongering bullshit. And maybe the next time you meet someone with sexist, homophobic, racist, or maybe radical left and anarchistic views (whatever you're opposing), don't attack them with your words! Those aren't weapons. Try to talk to them instead! Try talking about feelings! Listen to theirs, make them understand yours! I say feelings, because you both have those. Try finding a common ground, however small, and build up from there. Like Minecraft Skyblock. It can be hard in a challenging way, instead of making you want to shoot yourself in the head. Remember, you aren't fighting a war. You are having a discourse.
All of it is to say, the world and society are changing, wether you like it or not, and we have to change with it, to survive. That is the simple fact. If you call that change a war, that's just gonna make the whole thing unnecessarily painful for everyone involved.
This was sociopolitical advice from a giant armadillo.
Genuinely, what happened to “feminism is for everyone”?
That’s the feminism I grew up with: encouraging people to recognize that fighting sexism and restrictive gender roles helps folks of every gender. We’d push back on the idea that feminists hate men, pointing to inclusive feminist literature and how many men are feminists.
Now, there are so many people insisting that the solution to patriarchy is to openly hate and ostracize men no matter what. Why? What is the benefit? It’s certainly not effective in fighting oppressive structures to exclude half the population from your cause on the basis of immutable traits. It may feel cathartic to say horrible things about men and try to punish them for your frustrations with patriarchy. But the only actual effect I see is the increasing right-wing radicalization of young men, who are being told that the left hates them for the way they were born and presented with an abundance of proof that it’s true.
Why are we going back to treating men and women as different species? It doesn’t fix things to say “well women are the good gender and men are the bad one” this time. If you sincerely want to dismantle sexism, you’re going to have to unpack and let go of all sex and gender essentialism—even that which considers women inherently pure and men inherently immoral.
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satsuha · 1 day ago
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i'm always really interested in how the characters call each other in japanese games, so i laid out a few differences between the japanese and english versions of some ace attorney games that particularly interest me. this isn't meant to be an exhaustive list but it did get really long 😭
i highlighted english nicknames/etc in blue while japanese nicknames/etc are orange just to make reading a little easier
AA1-2
while only playing the english version i liked that maya called phoenix nick, it's a nickname that makes sense and phoenix is annoying to say and write anyway (lol) but the reason maya gives for this nickname in english is that it's what larry uses for him, which pales in comparison to maya in the japanese version opting for how mia used to call him: naruhodo-kun.
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to me, this is a LOT more meaningful and informative than the english nickname because it not only is evidence of how much maya heard about phoenix from mia using that nickname, it also gives us a glimpse of maya's personality and her relationship with phoenix. -kun is an honorific that's usually used for either male classmates or for teachers/superiors to use with their students/subordinates. maya falls into neither of these categories with phoenix, but it also lines up with how she acts like the boss of the office a lot of the time. SO LIKE... ultimately the nickname nick just does not hold up in terms of both maya's reasoning for using it, and phoenix's apprehension at her calling him that... which i just think is a shame!! in the same vein, this nickname is passed down to pearl, and again you see phoenix having a Reaction to it which makes sense considering it's funny that a kid is calling him naruhodo-kun...
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i don't only want to talk about changes in english that i don't prefer, so i also want to mention that i'm very impressed that they managed to get phoenix and edgeworth referring to each other by their surnames in english to sound natural... because it's also exactly what they do in japanese except there, the idea of male friends using their surnames with each other is a very very normal thing. i AM torn on the fact that in japanese larry also refers to the two of them by their surnames, which means all 3 of them are on equal grounds in that respect. AT THE SAME TIME... english makes larry's "nick" and "edgey" work so well that i really can't say we missed out with this localization, but i do like the relationship between these 3 so i do like that the japanese is indicative of it too :)
AA4
i'm skipping ahead to aa4 because trucy's also a very interesting localization to me... the first time i played aa4 i felt like trucy wasn't sufficiently differentiated enough from maya's character which is like. debatable but those were my initial thoughts anyway. in japanese though she uses third-person pronouns (calling herself by her own name, minuki) which is VERY distinct from maya. there are a number of ways to interpret this choice but i like the one that indicates that it's part of her stage persona. aside from that though, she also has a very normal nickname for apollo (odoroki-san, with -san indicating general politeness) while polly is um well canonically the name of a parrot LOL
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i do find it pretty interesting that the above exchange is the first instance trucy uses the polly nickname, because it's entirely different in the japanese version. phoenix says "if this onii-chan over here can't help you..." to which trucy responds by saying "how could you, onii-chan!" this exchange is hilarious to me because phoenix referring to apollo as an onii-chan is pretty normal? it's common to refer to any young man as that and in this case he's also referring to apollo from trucy's perspective. but trucy DIRECTLY calling apollo onii-chan (brother) is just so funny because HERE it's a lot closer to how an actual younger sister would refer to her older brother; there's a difference between saying "this onii-chan" and just "onii-chan". now i'm not saying this was direct foreshadowing because onii-chan is also used between close friends/acquaintances but like... the possibility is there.
AA5
now onto simon because i don't actually have a problem with the localization making him a british weeaboo i think that's really funny but i DO wish the nicknames he uses for the defense attorneys were more... appropriate? the honorific -dono that he uses in english does complement his samurai look but it's usually used in contexts where there's some respect involved, which is... not simon's intention in japanese. i'm admittedly not too familiar with the nicknames he uses in japanese; he uses "[kanji] no ji", while using a kanji from phoenix/apollo/athena's surnames. by searching it in japanese, i'm finding answers that it was medieval slang used by men usually in red light districts and such, and was used to refer to those with equal or lower status to oneself but never to those of higher status. this is kinda the opposite of what -dono is which is used for those of equal or higher status!!
i also find it pretty amusing that despite him using the first kanji in phoenix's name; 成 (turn into, grow), he uses the second kanji in both apollo and athena's names; 泥 (mud) and 月 (moon) respectively. i can only imagine that he did this because the first kanji in their names; 王 (king) and 希 (rare, hope) respectively, were too positive/complimentary for him? LOL
AA6
now i want to to talk about apollo in aa6 because NNGNRHGH i'm not normal about this one. because like, similarly to what i said up there about phoenix, edgeworth and larry's relationship, it's completely normal for close male friends to use their surnames with each other. phoenix, being apollo's boss, refers to him as odoroki-kun (mirroring how mia and maya call phoenix). trucy uses odoroki-san, indicating general politeness and athena uses odoroki-senpai, because he's her senior in their workplace. clay uses odoroki (no honorific), which is the same "level" as phoenix/edgeworth/larry's relationship.
a male character never being referred to as their first name is pretty normal, which is also the case in the aa games. franziska calls edgeworth by his first name reiji which is SUPPOSED to stand out because it's notably impolite/informal for someone who is younger than him, which suits the idea of her thinking of herself as the elder sibling. for additional reference, phoenix is only referred to by his first name by dahlia/iris; ryuu-chan ("feenie" equivalent) and desiree; ryuuichi-kun ("nicky boy" equivalent). so apollo is referred to exclusively by his surname, because there isn't anyone who's associated with him who would feasibly use his first name.
THAT IS. UNTIL we meet datz who is the first (!!) character to use apollo's first name in japanese. this moment doesn't stand out in english because i KNOOWWW datz uses the AJ nickname which is very cute but he doesn't actually use that nickname the first time he indicates that he knows apollo in case 6-3!! phoenix's momentary confusion here is also explained because while he obviously knows apollo's full name, he's never heard anyone refer to him with it!!!
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so phoenix's thoughts in japanese here were originally "housuke... wait, that bracelet! that's odoroki-kun!"
dhurke and later nahyuta (during the last moments of the 6-5 trial) also refer to apollo with his first name, which is... really nice!!! they're family!!!! i mourn the fact that this distinction isn't visible in english because most characters just call him apollo but it's special in japanese... it's only dhurke, nahyuta and datz who use his first name.... i'm normal i promise
funnily enough i sort of have the opposite issue with nahyuta, who is generally referred to as prosecutor sahdmadhi in english but nayuta-kenji (prosecutor) in japanese. i'm assuming this is because his name is written with his given name first unlike japanese names, so they just used his given name instead of his surname...? unfortunately we don't have an example of any other foreign prosecutor as reference (i'm excluding van zieks here because they DO use his surname but it's also an entirely different time and place) but i prefer the english here since it also makes it stand out when apollo, dhurke and datz (with yuty hehe) use his first name with him.
but then again... rayfa also refers to him as prosecutor sahdmadhi in english, but just calls him nayuta in japanese. there aren't a lot of characters rayfa refers to by name but generally she's either overly polite (with ga'ran and inga) or overly impolite (with phoenix and apollo). it makes sense that the way she calls nahyuta is a little unique, since he's of lower status than her but not enough to get a rude nickname fdjhja... and then of course at the end of the game she tries to call him onii-(chan? san? sama? we just don't know) which nahyuta interprets as oni (demon) i think the localization here is really impressive actually. they somehow managed to seamlessly fit braid head into the mix of barbed head and horn head (both nicknames that refer to their hairstyles) while braid also begins with the same letters as brother... anyway i think i slightly prefer that rayfa (and ga'ran) call nahyuta by his first name rather than by his prosecutor title, it's indicative of their higher status because of the lack of an honorific but by the end of the game it fits in with the idea of them all being family...
TGAA1-2
you would think that because tgaa opted to leave japanese honorifics in the dialogue that there wouldn't be any differences in how the characters refer to each other but there are... first of all kazuma and ryunosuke are once again male friends who refer to each other by their surnames without an honorific in japanese, but the english has them use their first names with each other instead. i can understand this change because characters using only their surnames with each other feels oddly distant in english, and while it worked for phoenix and edgeworth's relationship it definitely doesn't suit kazuma and ryunosuke's.
additionally, the way susato calls ryunosuke was also changed from naruhodo-sama to naruhodo-san. this is... also an interesting change since it requires the player to have some basic knowledge of japanese honorifics but for some reason decided to change it anyway, despite the fact that susato also uses -sama with kazuma... one thing to note is that susato does use kazuma's first name instead of his surname like she does with ryunosuke, which helps indicate their closer relationship despite her still showing respect with the -sama honorific. in that sense naruhodo-san feels like an interesting middle ground because she's still using his surname but doesn't seem to view his position with her as equal to kazuma's? i assume that was the intent of the localization, similarly to how the way kazuma and ryunosuke call each other was changed to indicate closeness to the english-speaking player
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anyway while i do prefer the original japanese version most of the time, my general view of original vs localization is like wow! two cakes! i might prefer one of those cakes more, but the english version usually provides enough that i like that both canons exist. because of this i can't agree with the idea that all localization is bad nor the side that believes the original doesn't matter because you're engaging only with the english side of the fandom. both are good and can reveal interesting things about the characters, story and setting!!
and thank you for reading if you got this far 🙇 i'm not an expert at japanese so i try to do my research and use multiple sources to get a better view of things, so please let me know if i got anything wrong! i also recommend checking out this post if you haven't seen it already since it's where i got some pointers on the trucy and simon segments
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retrorats · 3 days ago
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Some thoughts about Komaeda's fifth free time event and his relationship with Hinata
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The fifth Komaeda free time event has always been very popular between Komahina fans, specially because the event was where the romantic tone of their relationship was consolidated for a lot of people. But even if the focus is usually on Komaeda's love confession, I have always felt that this free time event is way more important and meaningful besides that. This event has on it a lot of important moments that say a lot about their relationship, and that make very clear the most prevalent themes of it.
The free time event starts with Komaeda wondering why Hinata is still going out in his way to talk to him. Hinata answers that he is doing it so he can hear the rest of his story, in his typical fashion of rationalizing and dismissing his feelings for Komaeda. While Komaeda tells the rest of the story, he says one of the most important things for this free time event, and in general for the relationship of Komaeda and Hinata.
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This dialogue reveals to us the important information about how Komaeda not only perceived the similarities between them since they first met, but also how since that moment, he deeply believed that Hinata would be able to understand him. All of the things that this scene explains are the fundamental basis of the relationship of Komaeda and Hinata. Komaeda's attachment towards Hinata comes from a place of feeling like he had finally found a person that could get to understand him and as we will see with other parts of this free time event, he thought he had finally found a person that could love him.
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Hinata's response towards Komaeda is also important to mention. Hinata negates to be not like Komaeda, he rejects their similarities and also in certain way he rejects the connection Komaeda feels between them, something that's accentuated even more considering how Komaeda interprets his words as having lost the opportunity of having someone inheriting his soul. But even in his negation, there's something deeply interesting in the way Hinata phrases certain things in it. If we look well at what Hinata is saying, we can see how while he negates being similar to Komaeda, his negation is mostly focused on negating his misery, and he seems to silently accept being a bystander that is devoid of any unique aura possessed by the talented.
In a certain way, Hinata's negation in this part has always read to me as being a last resort to try to distinguish himself in some way from Komaeda. Compared to other parts where Komaeda alludes to him and Hinata being similar, here the negation of Hinata doesn't feel so unaware like in the other times that he negated it, here it feels more like Hinata is legitimately aware of how similar they are; He says that he's not miserable, and that he is ultimately different from Komaeda as a last resort to negate what he already knows, and to dissociate himself from him.
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Komaeda talks about how he doesn't have anyone in this world and how absolutely lonely his existence is. Something very interesting that Komaeda says, is that he mentions his ideologies as the main reason for being alone.
This moment is not only interesting because it puts Komaeda loneliness to be something that is a lot about his way of thinking being completely incomprehensible for other people, but also because it provides us with certain information about the relationship between Komaeda and Hinata. People distancing from Komaeda because of his beliefs is not something that is only mentioned here, but it is very explicitly the main reason why Hinata distanced himself from Komaeda since chapter 1. Because of this, it's not hard to read this to be a certain reference to his relationship with Hinata -a person that Komaeda really felt he could connect with- and how he also ended up distancing himself because of his way of thinking, like other people Komaeda knew.
This seems to be the principal reason of why Komaeda seems to be so focused on believing that he and Hinata are similar, and also in the belief of Hinata being able to understand him. Komaeda has been misunderstood by everyone all his life and his ideologies have isolated him from the rest of society. All of this has resulted on Komaeda having the fixation on finding someone that would be able to understand him, this fixation ultimately leading him to have a very intense attachment towards Hinata even when they barely really knew each other, because it was probably the first time he had known someone that was similar enough to him to understand him.
There is also a certain connection between Komaeda thinking that they are similar, Hinata distancing himself from him and Komaeda's surprised reaction in chapter 1 seeing Hinata had started to think lowly of him. When Komaeda thought that he and Hinata were similar, he probably also believed that Hinata had a similar way of thinking, and because of that, he wouldn't just distance himself from Komaeda like the others when discovering the truth of the murder.
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Considering how Komaeda talks about feeling that Hinata was able to understand his feelings, how he implied that he wanted Hinata to "inherit his soul" and in general considering how much this free time event talks about their connection, is not hard to think that in certain way this line is also a little bit about Hinata. Obviously, Komaeda's desire to be loved wasn't born because of Hinata, but I do think considering all we have seen before, is logical to think that one of the reasons Komaeda was so attached to Hinata is because he saw in him -because of their similarities- someone that he could connect with, and for that same reason, someone that could love him.
This is specifically accentuated considering the very strong reaction that has Hinata regarding this statement, literally considering throwing everything he has believed about not forgiving Komaeda until that point. I don't think that his reaction is because he was aware of that fact, but I do think it was written in that way to accentuate how this was talking in a certain way about Hinata.
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Hinata's extremely heartbreaking and intense response towards Komaeda "lying" could also be easily considered a hint towards this being in a certain way about Hinata, but his response to this is also about way more than just that. His reaction is due to a lot of things, for one part it's about how Hinata feels like he was just deceived by Komaeda again, after having spent so much time trying to actually understand him. But is also about how Hinata wanted to believe in the existence of the Komaeda he once knew. Both of these very strong reactions -this one and his reaction towards Komaeda wanting to be loved- are born from that, from the need to believe him and to have a proof that after all, there existed some truth about the Komaeda he once knew, that there was some logic behind Komaeda, that there existed a reason behind his behavior.
He specially wanted to believe on that line because of how human it makes Komaeda. His biggest desire being something as sensible and human as connection, and this desire, being only realized when on the verge of death, is something that makes Komaeda look very tragic. That makes, Komaeda, human and sensible, and his actions, suddenly are more understandable. Hinata wants to believe on this because he wants to make reason of Komaeda, and give a logic, a very human and sensible logic, to the way he acts.
To finalize, I really love this event because I feel that in it is conveyed all of the main themes and important parts of the relationship of Komaeda and Hinata. It's very beautiful for me to see all the little parts that make them themselves being presented so strongly and explicitly on a full event.
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toraoistired · 2 days ago
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let's talk about project 2025 and smut.
bc I've seen some of my favorite authors already state they aren't writing any more smut due to the mere threat of project 2025 going into effect. And hey, I'm a simple person who likes to read abt sexy times.
pls read through all the way and share if ya like any of what i wrote here - i don't want panic to be spreading through the writers of tumblr/ao3 like wildfire unchecked.
qualifications: BA in political science focusing on domestic policy, activism and ethnic studies.
Part I - what is it?
project 2025 at its core is a roadmap. it was created by the Heritage Foundation (an extremely far right disgusting think tank), and plenty of people associated with the previous and incoming Trump presidency. its like 900 pages of alt-right, christian nationalist bullshit.
but its not uncommon.
think tanks like the Heritage Foundation often create roadmaps like this to plot out what they would most want to see in a future presidency or period of political control. it isn't even particular to right-wing think tanks; left wing ones do it too! the difference in this case is the magnitude and attention paid to the manifesto.
the heritage foundation is a vast organization with a lot of money, and has had a part in US politics for a long ass time now. because of this, what they say/do carries a bit more weight. combined with the fact that dems in the past election used project 2025 as a common refrain (instead of like, developing their own policy but whatevs), you get a general public who is aware of the buzzword "project 2025" but not knowledgeable about what it contains.
what it does actually include is certainly worrying, but among the new freaky shit is a ton of stuff that has been on the republican party's to do list since day one, like dismantling the department of education. just reading that seems really shocking, i know, but if you look back to when the department was created, you will find evidence of republicans trying desperately to dismantle it.
i find the media flurry around project 2025 to be a bit concerning, because while i understand dems wanting to show voters how dangerous this shit can be, its also made it into something far more important than it could actually be. as i stated earlier, these types of policy blueprints are extremely common among think tanks. its like their entire job!! and yes, this one is scarier and more visible than others, but it
a.) isn't the official policy of the incoming admin (and if you look at their actual policy statement, its very clear they don't rly have policies, so who knows what that's gonna look like)
b.) isn't united states federal law
Part II - what's it gonna look like?
i'm not gonna sit here and say you shouldn't be worried about project 2025, bc a lot of whats in it is freaky asf. but that freakiness is what (in my opinion) will be its primary challenge. since its so out there, the extreme right wing republicans are going to have to work their asses off to get the votes they need to pass these things.
which brings me to another point-- project 2025 is a whole list of proposals. its not like republicans can put forth one bill that has the entirety of project 2025 in it and pass it all at once. for a whole laundry list of reasons, that's not possible. the process of getting one bill passed through the house and senate is an excruciatingly long one, and doing this process for 900 pages worth of plans ain't gonna be easy.
i should mention that donald trump has yet to endorse the plan as his own, so there's the real possibility that he wont even want to implement any of the ideas included. i could 100% see him ignoring the entire plan because he doesn't like that someone else came up with it tbh. and while i don't believe he has never heard of the heritage foundation, as he has claimed in the past, i think it is important to note that there hasn't been any confirmation from him that project 2025 is his roadmap.
the plan includes rollbacks of rights for every minority group possible, restrictions on immigration, access to morning-after pills, restructuring of the federal government to allow for easier hiring and firing based on little/no evidence, etc. all in all, not great.
but again, project 2025 isn't united states federal law
Part III - what does it mean for fanfic authors?
the section that has the fanfic-consuming/creating world in a tizzy is the bit about outlawing pornography. this is a concerning policy propsal, but not because of possible fanfic bans. rather, bc project 2025 and the heritage foundation at large sees queerness as inherently and exclusively sexual.
"pornography, manifested today in the omnipresent propagation of transgender ideology and sexualization of children" (The Heritage Foundation, p.5)
thus, if they ban pornography (with a definition that includes/focuses on queerness), they can effectively ban expressions of queerness in the united states.
that shit is scary. and while i never want to rely on foundational documents when the people interpreting those documents (court justices (esp those appointed by the previous and incoming trump admin)), i will hesitantly say that this is gonna be a tough sell. both from a constitutional standpoint, and from a broad base support standpoint.
for the first of the two points, arguing that the first amendment doesn't "apply" to something is always a slippery slope, and defending that point is extraordinarily difficult. obviously this isnt always the case, but especially relating to pornography and obscenity, proving that a work fails the Miller test (a three part test created in Miller v. California (1973) to determine if something is obscene or not) is, like, really hard (heh).*
while the miller test is precedent for specific cases that come up in the court system, if some version of the porn ban goes into effect, the US court system is going to be dealing with challenges from every state, every form of media, every fandom.
which brings me to the second point. broad base support.
while the headline about Grindr crashing in Milwaukee during the RNC wasn't true in 2024, republican events in previous have brought an influx in users to the area in which the events are held if ya know what i'm sayin👀
on a real note though, getting a pornography ban passed in the united states would be exceedingly hard (no pun intended). especially one that includes forms of media like written pornography, not just visual. in terms of feasibility, a ban on video pornography is incrementally more likely than one on all forms of pornography. arguments against porn are weak at best, and the anti-porn movement in the US (usually religious) has been trying, and failing, for decades to ban pornography. most content about porn bans also refers primarily to video-based porn, not written smut.
let's just say worst case scenario something like this does go into action. anything you've written before the law goes into action cannot be used as a way to prosecute you. that would be an example of ex post facto punishment, which is explicitly prohibited in the constitution and by court precedent.
*note: i'm not endorsing the way the US court precedents around porn/obscenity look, as they are another symptom of purity culture and anti-sex culture created in the US
Part IV - what do we do?
well, giving up before a bill has even been proposed ain't it. it makes me deeply sad to see so many writers saying they wont be writing smut anymore because of the vague possibility of this plan. not only does it make me sad, it makes me angry. because that means people have seen so much misinformation about what project 2025 is and how it works that they are too scared to do anything about it. let me repeat again.
project 2025 is not law in the united states of america, nor is it in the process of becoming so. act accordingly.
so go forth, write smut, be gay, do some shit to make the heritage foundation angry today. and don't give up before the battle has even started. bc that's how they win. and i know shit seems really scary, but community and mutual aid is how we are gonna make it through this, so do your due diligence and research what you're scared about! knowledge is power and you gotta wield that sh*t.
i'd like to end with a quote from Timothy Snyder, who everyone and their mother has been quoting recently, but i still think it has value.
"Do not obey in advance. Most of the power of authoritarianism is freely given. In times like these, individuals think ahead about what a more repressive government will want, and then offer themselves without being asked. A citizen who adapts in this way is teaching power what it can do. Anticipatory obedience is a political tragedy." (Excerpted from On Tyranny by Timothy Snyder, 2017)
[Note - i have cited sources where appropriate, but this is also based on my (important to note, informed) opinion. please treat it as such, thank you]
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accio-victuuri · 3 days ago
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BURN AFTER READING. 🍭🍬
i have never made a post with this title before, but i have shared some cpn/speculation that deserve to be burned after reading. lol. this term is often used by cpfs for a candy or info related to the boys that may be “dangerous” — so you have to get rid of it after reading. but for my version of it, let’s describe it as something that is a level up from galaxy brain cpn. it’s the kind of cpn you will think twice or thrice before making up your mind about. 💫
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we have (2) topics here and just a disclaimer that i am not confirming anything here. this content is for cpf only. don’t take it seriously!
(1) Who is An Huibo 安慧博?
fans noticed that there was a “stand in” credited for the we and life of us music videos and that is this person. think of it as a body double. it makes sense cause aside from that scene in WE, there are times that xz’s figure is against a backdrop so maybe they needed someone to do that. the clowning began when people were thinking about, what if the other xz in WE mv is actually WYB ⬇️⬇️⬇️
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i can think of a couple of different reasons why this could be false but the strongest explanation for me is that xz will not allow wyb to so something like this. he is very superstitious. even if this is just acting, he will not allow them to act out a scene of betrayal. that for me is enough to shut this all down. but on the flipside, maybe wyb wanted him (xz) to play his first villain role opposite him in this music video.
now we have the reasons why fans think this is something worth looking at:
1. XZ and this An Huibo are the only 2 credited actors for both MVs. so it seems kinda special.
2. The director of this is LIN, the same one who directed WYB’s redmi advertisement. There are some CPNs both were made at the same studio. Which makes sense cause LIN has his own shooting studio. There is another separate CPN about this but the gist is we think this director is familiar with both of them. So XZ may be comfortable enough to bring WYB along and even include him in the video.
3. It may not be WYB himself, but he used that name to troll us. It’s so close, Huibo. Yibo.
4. I saw this explanation as well:
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If "Anhuibo" is read according to the French transliteration as An Huibo, it would approximately read:
[ã чi bɔ]
·ã: similar to "ang";
·qi: similar to "wei" in Chinese, but lighter and soft;
·bo: similar to "wave", slightly shorter.
5. As a CPF, it’s so easy for our alarm bells to ring if you read that name. An alias of sorts for Bobo. some are saying he used this kind of jumbled name to combat the bad aura of their scene together. Since he is superstitious, this removes yibo’s name and identity as the stand in who stabbed XZ’s character. if that makes sense.
maybe we will know more when they release the behind the scenes video. that is if they show who this stand in is. let’s add this to the bjyx clowning vault in the meantime.
(2) XZ look-alike in the recent GRA
i was talking to @rainbowsky about this and my initial reaction was, cpn aside, i’m surprised at how people notice these things! which i actually should be used to considering turtle’s attention to detail, but still!
so here is the “evidence”
👀👀👀👀
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like all other turtles, i’m someone who has stared at tons of photos of XZ. so i can totally understand why people would look twice at this person. i get i. i was staring at this photo for so long as well. however most of the cpfs comment on this is against this candy and they have valid reasons:
1. Why would he attend and be in the audience? XZ is someone lowkey so if he was there to accompany WYB, he will be backstage. Yes he is brave, but not like this — which seems almost careless.
2. There are names on the chair, so it’s not like anyone can just sit there casually.
3. Even if you believe in the probability, CPFs don’t wanna talk much about it cause it can be anti material. Saying XZ has to hide and can’t show his face in GRA. or why is he even there incognito when he doesn’t even have a project nominated. You all know how it goes, antis can twist the narrative. Plus we don’t want to accidentally expose them if this was true. We should not observe too much and post about it cause it will make it harder for them to do something similar in the future.
4. How did this person go unnoticed? Everyone had to get inside the security and there are cameras everywhere. He should have removed his cap and mask which — it’s impossible for someone to not notice XZ ( or is it? ). another thing is maybe he went to a diff entrance??
5. Some are washing it and saying it’s Yibo’s MUA.
Please take that last point i mentioned and carry it over to the reason why this look alike is sus. People are able to confirm that this is not WYB’s MUA because he was wearing a different cap. Even the hair and daresay the ears are not the same. and why would a MUA even be there? If WYB needs touch ups then they should do it backstage. If for some reason it has to be while the broadcast and recording was not on or was on a break, he should not sit there and act like a guest.
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Yibo’s MUA, Wang Yiduo has been with him for years. He has years of experience being around celebrities and attending these events before WYB. So he knows the decorum. He will not sit there and act like a guest just because he feels like it.
I’m curious too, who is this person who can walk in— in an event filled with people that are dressed up and then come in with a mask and casual clothes. To be allowed to sit there. Who is special enough? Probably a celebrity? and that’s why some think it could be XZ. Even the staff and assistants during the event are dressed up which made this person stand out. As for the CPN explanation, it’s nice to think that XZ is so proud of Yibo’s nomination that he has to be there. He will find a way to be in the audience and witness this special moment. 💕
I think this can easily be analyzed more if we have the video but i don’t have time to rewatch the whole GRA and wait for this cut. Cause i wanna know if it’s even there, that’s how much we question things here! 🤣 It’s so sus to me that we only have the screenshots and no video when CPFs are notorious for having concrete evidence. personally, it reminds me of the SDC3 incident but this one is still pretty outrageous considering it is a public event.
take what you want with this information. and as always, when it comes to BJYX: ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️
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sources: one/ two
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thenerdofthegroup · 2 days ago
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Just saw a post saying that Agatha had no reason to be angry and she is a terrible person for being angry at Rio…
Because…
Her child died.
Media literacy is dead. Jac’s work shouldn’t be talked about by people who make takes like ‘how dare Agatha be angry at Rio when her child died and Rio didn’t even go to Agatha to comfort her when she woke up! How dare she!!!!’ (This is a simplification. I shouldn’t have to put that because it’s obviously sarcasm and an oversimplification but… like I said… media literacy is dead and people can’t read context so-)
Note: before people AGAIN take what I said out of context: this is a complex situation. If you can’t see both sides then you shouldn’t be watching this show. The WHOLE point is that in their relationship they are both to blame and not to blame at all. Agatha was a grieving mother. She lost her child!!!! Literally the only thing that has loved her and been there constantly. Rio loves her more than anything but she isn’t. Always. There. That was shown. Agatha clearly wanted something to pour her love into all the time and not be alone
Rio shouldn’t have been pushed away and blamed for it. She was doing her job.
But to diminish Agatha pain completely to support Rio’s side is bollocks. I don’t have kids but I will say this: only people who don’t have kids will make that take. Because to lose a child must be the WORST pain a parent could ever experience. And she had the double barrel of guilt that her body failed her in growing him and not being able to save him due to her destructive magic. DOUBLE the pain.
And then a wonderful point my friend (a parent) brought up: Rio wasn’t there when Agatha woke up or when she buried him. It would be a VERY different story of Rio was there to support her and be with her. Yes Agatha would have been furious but she would have every right to be. But if Rio stayed and comforted we would have a very different story on our hands 🤷‍♀️ sorry but that’s the truth. Rio probably thought she was doing the right thing. Like what some friends do.
When I went through a terrible situation, my friends (who weren’t really friends but that’s not relevant) didn’t contact me or check up saying ‘well I thought you’d want to be left alone’.
No.
No one wants that.
Including the witch who has been left alone again and again. If Rio had stayed for when she woke up it would have been VERY different. (And I can’t think of a reason she didn’t. If anyone can apart from saying ‘doing her job elsewhere’ which to me is bollocks because she could have spared time. She had time to travel the road so that’s not gonna work on me when the love of her life lost their/her child)
So yeah… diminishing the main characters pain is… I’m not even gonna make a joke, fucking mental. Both can be wrong and both can be in pain. Rio lost Agatha. Agatha lost her child and Rio. Both are tragedies
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Jeez…
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kitthefoxkin · 1 day ago
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tw// discussion of genitals, zoophilia, harassment, transphobia, and sexual topics
has anyone else seen the controversy over species affirming packers? its been all over my feed and i have a lot of thoughts about it. the person that originally made them is actually my mutual on tiktok (where this whole thing originated) and i honestly think its not that big of a deal 😭
for context, a user named cyrusbarks on tiktok asked if anyone was interested in him making species affirming packers for alterhumans. a bunch of people were, so he made them and posted about it. they're sewn by hand with fabric and stuffing. they're not excessively detailed. since then, a LOT of people have been accusing him of being a zoophile and a predator because of this, which is insane to me.
first of all, packing isnt sexual and never has been. the only reason people think it's sexual is because it's genital related, which is just not correct. genitals arent sexual, and wanting species affirming gear isn't either. its no different from human packers made for trans folks already. but for some reason, people think that this specifically has sexual intent, despite not being usable in any sexual context.
second, a BUNCH of people have been misgendering him. Cyrus uses he/him and bark/barks pronouns and everyone ive seen talking about it has referred to him as They or She, both of which are misgendering. one person i was talking to literally said that he deserved to be misgendered. their exact words were "if someone's being odd... they don't deserve respect". i don't think i have to explain why this is an absurd thing to say.
third, people have been coming at ME for defending him, coming to my tiktok page calling me a zoophile. this is not only incorrect, but so, so hurtful. i love my pets so much, and being accused of being attracted to them is absolutely disgusting. my cat has gotten me through the worst times in my life, and people are implying that im abusing them because of my opinions on a stupid online controversy. its absurd.
my first mistake was expecting maturity and nuance on tiktok, i think. if you have any differing opinions or viewpoints, please please message or comment!!! i do genuinely want to discuss this topic and understand other people's viewpoints, as i feel very strongly about this. please just be respectful-- if you're just going to insult me, im not going to engage in conversation.
thank you for reading friends!
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copperhawks · 1 day ago
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You're not the first person to make this comparison on this post, but when I wrote this, I hadn't done a re-read of SOTL yet (and the last time I'd read In the Hand of the Goddess was... a LONG time ago, so I couldn't really make a good comparison between these two scenes), but I have now and I've been sort-of thinking this over and have some thoughts on it.
For me, this isn't so much an indication of them being similar so much as it is just an unusually similar narrative beat. A character chooses to disobey an order about not crossing a border during a war in order to go save someone who has been captured and, in so doing, takes out a major antagonist that leads to the end of the war.
But the MOTIVES behind the two actions seem very different to me. Jon goes to save Alanna because he's in love with her and can't bear to lose her. Kel goes to save the refugees because she's responsible for them and takes that extremely seriously. She does CARE about the people, obviously, it's still being done out of love, but she's not doing it because she can't stand to live without them so much as that she's INSANELY duty-driven. She goes up to save Lalasa for similar reasons after being told that a noble's duty to their servants is basically sacrosanct. Kel goes across the border because she believes it's the honorable thing to do. Jon's motives aren't about honor and are, arguably, somewhat more selfish in origin.
So while this is obviously a very similar storyline, I don't find that it's an example of these two characters being similar to each other.
Kel is willing to give up EVERYTHING out of a sense of duty to the people she's responsible for. While Jon is someone who does a LOT of things for his people and spends a lot of his time and energy making life better for them, I can't recall a moment where Jon is ready to give up everything he wants and everything he's worked for just to save his people. Jon actually tells Kel in Squire that he and Thayet work pretty hard to keep themselves OUT of that kind of danger whenever possible, that's the point behind all of the compromises. All of the arranged marriages for his kids are to try to ensure peace through political connections and stop fighting in wars.
This is where they DO differ because Kel feels like someone who, at least at this point in her life, is willing to die to protect her people. But Jon is someone who will do whatever it takes to LIVE for his people for as long as possible. Jon understands that, in his position, it's more beneficial for everybody for him to make compromises in order to stay alive so he can keep making changes that will make people's lives better in the long run. This is a lesson that, while we do see Kel LEARNING it a little during Lady Knight, isn't one that really plays into the final conflict of the book. It's possible that Kel will end up being even more like Jon in this way as she gets older, more willing to stay back herself and trust others to do what needs to be done in her place, but by the end of Lady Knight, that just isn't who she is yet.
And maybe that's what's interesting about the comparison. Kel isn't all that much like Jon YET, and she's certainly not all that much like Jon when HE was 19, but Kel shows signs of being a lot more like Jon as he is during HER series as she gets older and gains more experience. Kel is very righteous, very inclined to just act and get things done, but over the 9 years we get to know her, she has to learn more and more about when to act and when to WAIT. She has to learn when to push and when to bend a little.
As a woman, she's going to be held to different standards than her male counterparts like Raoul or Wyldon, she'll be dealing with different limitations and setbacks than they ever did. And so her approach to leadership will, by necessity, have to be different than theirs was. She does look to them for inspiration, but in execution, I think she'll likely end up far more like Jon. Jon is obviously not a woman himself, but as King he's ALSO held to different higher standards than his compatriots and he was very young when he took the throne and has been very progressive throughout his reign which means he's dealing with certain limitations and setbacks that more conservative people might not.
Kel has strong opinions and firm ideas of what the world SHOULD be like, and that's going to lead her down a similar path of trying to CHANGE things, but she'll be dealing with all of the same limitations that Jon is, which will force her to approach things the way he does. She's going to have to compromise, she's going to have to bend, she's going to have to learn when a fight is worth having, she's going to have to learn to give a little in order to get a little later.
Kel would probably not have crossed the border for just one person. If it had been Neal, for example, and Neal alone, she may not have decided to take that risk. Neal is a trained knight like herself and probably won't thank her for giving up everything to come save him. Kel could probably have been convinced not to cross the border for him, as much as it would've pained her. And Jon I think would not necessarily give up everything to save a few hundred people the way Kel did, even though it would pain him to have to make that choice.
Kel IS like Jon and will likely become even more so as she ages, but crossing the border just isn't one of those places where their similarities are showcased to me.
The funniest thing to me about Kel, and maybe one of the most interesting because of how understated it is, is that Kel becomes a good commander in the end, not by emulating Wyldon who was cold and implacable and insensitive, or by emulating Raoul who mostly only disobeys orders out of principle or because he has an issue with what the order says about his personal relationship with Jon, but by emulating JON.
Kel doesn't even LIKE Jon, she BARELY respects him as a person. He's a good enough ruler that she's willing to fight for him and swear loyalty to him and to at least mostly believe that he wouldn't work with Blayce to make his own killing monsters, but that's as far as it goes for Kel. If he's kind to her, she finds it uncomfortable and almost untrustworthy because she assumes he doesn't care about her and so his kindness and respect towards her must be fake.
But from the outside, as readers, we know just how much Jon fought for Kel. We know how much he does respect her right to be a knight. Jon is the sole reason that Kel DID get the opportunity to prove herself, if he'd capitulated to Wyldon completely, she just wouldn't have ever been allowed to join. Kel doesn't KNOW THAT, obviously, but we do. We know that Jon did everything he could to find a way to convince Wyldon to let Kel become a page. While Wyldon claims later that the reason he chose to let her stay at the end of the probation year was because his better judgment convinced him she'd earned it, I'd be willing to bet that part of that better judgment also included knowing if he couldn't prove to JON that she needed to go, then he'd be in trouble. Kel was training and working in front of plenty of other trainers and teachers who could easily contradict Wyldon's lies if he'd tried it, many of whom are closer to Jon than they are to Wyldon.
Kel's experiences and feelings about that experience are entirely valid, and she doesn't have the knowledge we do about how hard Jon fought for her, so it's not shocking that she's upset with him for a good portion of her series. She never even discovers this truth by the end of her series, even though she does get a lesson from Jon and Thayet (and Raoul to some degree) about how politics and compromises work in order to make changes happen. So her opinion of him by the end is boiled down to the quote from Squire: "good kings weren't always good men." It makes sense for her to think this, but because Kel's knowledge base is so limited (and her worldview so black and white for much of her series), it makes her an EXTREMELY unreliable narrator about this particular issue.
Kel believes that while Jon generally does his duty and keeps the peace, he doesn't actually care all that much about his people as individuals. But in their only meaningful conversation in Squire, Jon is able to point out that he (and Thayet, who is actually equal to Jon in power, something Kel either doesn't know which would be a failure in her education or just tends to ignore so she can focus her ire on Jon) has to make a LOT of compromises in order to get ANYTHING useful done at all. Sometimes, often, it means making deals with people he doesn't like or people he just fundamentally disagrees with, because it's the first step in a multi-step plan to help more people in the long run. He also points out that just throwing his weight and authority around in order to be able to change everything he wants to change immediately regardless of what anyone else thinks about it is a great way to get himself and his family killed. Because even if he had good intentions, that would be tyranny. It does make Kel think a little, but she doesn't tend to like him much still afterwards, her resentment from her page years will always color her opinion of him a little.
However, then she gets to Haven and she's suddenly tossed into a position of leadership over a lot of other people, many of whom disagree with each other or disagree with her or both. And all of the sudden, Kel has to make compromises. She doesn't LIKE the way the sergeants often treat their men, especially the sergeants whose men are convicts, but there's very very little she can do about it without really pissing off those same sergeants and that's not something she can afford to do. There's a moment when Neal starts getting frustrated about the treatment of the convicts and she takes him out to vent to her so he doesn't vent to the sergeants, something that the sergeants would then take out on their men. Kel's reasoning as she does this is that she "preferred to avoid battles with them now so she would have authority with them later if she needed to use it." Later, Kel is talking to Daine and she says "That's all this job is... Trying to please everyone and pleasing no one. And it will only get worse, not better."
Both of these moments showcase Kel choosing to make compromises. She may not like the way the sergeants treat the convicts, but she needs to stay on the sergeants' good sides because she doesn't have enough resources to butt heads with them nor enough authority to just force the issue, and even if she DID, it could cause the sergeants to become troublesome or take out their frustration with her on the men in ways she can't see as well. But staying on the sergeants' good sides might mean letting some of their maltreatment slide if it's not physically harming the convicts. And even setting that aside, she's dealing with nearly 500 refugees eventually, all of which are from different towns in the area and have different needs, not all of which she can accommodate. This requires compromise. Sometimes she can please some of them and not others, but mostly she probably just ends up not pleasing anybody because that's often how compromises WORK.
She never makes the active connection to Jon and his lesson on leadership from Squire while she's in Haven, but that quote up there about how this job (aka being a commander) is all about trying to please everyone and pleasing no one? It sounds a HECK of a lot like "good kings weren't always good men." You can try your best to help others, but often doing the right thing can involve making everyone unhappy. You can't be everybody's friend if you're going to get anything done.
Some of this she might've learned from Raoul's style of command, but Raoul commands a fairly small amount of people (at least in comparison to a King), and so we see him able to be pretty friendly to the people he commands in a way that Jon is perhaps unable to do. And she might believe that she learned some of this from Wyldon, but Wyldon had a tendency to be very unfair and biased due to his raging bigotry and conservative values, as well as the fact that he doesn't actually even LIKE being a training master and that likely impacted the way he treated the pages (he's almost never that kind to the pages, whereas we see him capable of being quite kind with the refugees later, which is where Kel comes to the conclusion that he hadn't enjoyed being a training master).
But Jon makes an entire speech about how he (and Thayet) have been working THEIR ENTIRE REIGN to change laws that help people. He explains how they have to consider the needs of merchants, nobles, farmers, street people, priests/priestesses, and mages. They have to consider not only what these people might need or want, but also what they could do when they feel sufficiently offended and how that could impact not just the royal family or the nobility but the realm as a whole. Jon points out that they HAVE made changes, for the better, and that just because they don't always succeed at everything or because they have to compromise sometimes, doesn't mean they aren't working at making changes or that they don't care about helping people. Not everyone you have power over is going to be your friend, they might not even be someone you like. But if you're going to take on the job of leadership, that's something you have to be willing to accept and work with, which often means making compromises with people whose needs and values are contradictory to your own.
Jon probably knows when he makes the compromise with Wyldon that it will likely impact a lot of people's good opinion of him. Alanna is right there and clearly angry, and we know Thayet doesn't like the decision, either. And it's entirely possible that Jon knows in the moment that Kel herself will put the blame on him because he's the King. But he also knows that if he insists on Kel being allowed to be a page without trying to compromise with Wyldon, Wyldon will quit over it and he'll end up with ten DIFFERENT problems that could cause a lot bigger issues to far more people than just one girl. So he makes the compromise. He sacrifices Alanna and Thayet and even Kel's good opinion of him in order to ensure that Kel gets the opportunity to become a Knight without turning all of his nobles against him which could ultimately lead to a civil war. Is it fair? No, and he knows it. But it's the best option he has in order to get the outcome they all actually want which is just for Kel to have the chance to prove herself.
Kel has to make similar choices once she's finally in a position of leadership of her own. And whether she realizes it or not, without ever even spending more than a few minutes with Jon, she ends up emulating his leadership style more than anybody else's because it WORKS and it works WELL. She'll probably never admit it, she might never even realize it herself, but she's so much more like Jon than any of the other men she sees as role models. And I love that. I love the dramatic irony of that, that the one person Kel only barely respects because of a compromise he made on her behalf that she'll never even know about, is the person Kel ends up most resembling. Jon is the reason she has the opportunity to become the Protector of the Small in the first place, Jon is the person who created that environment that allowed her to nurture those values, and she'll probably never even really be able to acknowledge that, because sometimes that's what being a good leader means.
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ghouljams · 2 days ago
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I know every fandom has it's fair share of "incest"(not sure if thats the correct term) but it seems like the cod fandom has it so much more than the other popular ones
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I mean maybe I'm not 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 enough and I know every person has their own turn ons and off but it can't be just me who thinks this is weird/cod fandom has like so much more of it (and I have been on the internet for a good 8+ years and have been deep in fandoms)
(idk maybe I'm just rambling out of my ass because I have ocd and intrusive thoughts place my own family members the moment I say words about a family)
Omg hi friend!
First of all I want to say that I'm glad you asked because I've actually been thinking about this!
I have a major(MAJOR) turn off for actual incest in fanfiction. Maybe because I lived through homestuck and people fucking love incest in that fandom, but I cannot read it without getting squicked out. Faux-cest though doesn't seem to give me the same problem and I think it's because there's always an undercurrent of "this is pretend" when done right, it feels porn-y, fake. I think it's because (in my mind) faux-cest falls under the "humiliation/degradation" kink, there's an overt power dynamic there that feels... different from actual incest fics.
Which also? The amount of people who have DDlg/MDlb kinks in this fandom is insane. Every day I see people calling Price "daddy" and I just... I'm gonna be so honest with y'all I hate seeing "daddy" in a fic, I don't mind caretaker doms but I just can't get into age play or the uwu cutesy way some of those fics go. But that's just me.
All that to give me some credibility in telling you: I don't think it's the cod fandom at large, but maybe just the writers who all follow each other and seem to get the same brain worms at the same time(I am guilty of this).
I think for some people there's an element of "I just figured out how to write this kink and I'm making it everyone's problem" and for others it's a "this seems popular at the moment let me throw my hat in the ring." Personally I had a faux-cest dream that I didn't particularly enjoy, honestly felt more like a nightmare, but I figured other people would see kink in the horrific so I popped it up on the blog.
Anyway I don't think you have to be "freaky enough" or even put yourself through reading a kink you don't enjoy, there's a reason I've been putting trigger tags on all the faux-cest stuff! I want people to be able to filter it out. Hell, a lot of it squicks me out, and I've written some of it. I don't really see it as any more prevalent in the cod fandom than others though. I mean every fandom has a decent portion that jump straight to incest stuff, you may have just managed to avoid it fairly well.
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m-ilkiee · 2 days ago
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I think the problem with most 18-21 year olds on this site is that everyone wants to be contrarian to be relevant, but they don't know how to constructively criticize the media they engage with while also appreciating the work that is already out here because they've never put in the work in writing a piece of article.
To put it simply; you have a whole lot to say about what people write and how you may find even the mildest of things repulsive, yet you've never ever in your life written and/or published anything and you lack the skills to critically engage with any written work. This goes beyond fanfiction.
How many of you actually read books in your free time? How many of you journal or attempt to write something? How many of you think for yourselves?
Perhaps, the reason that I rarely complain about how people write their characters is because I read so wide as a child and no matter how vastly different a character is from me, I learned the skill of viewing from the lens of the character. It takes a great amount of intelligence to try and see things from a character's persepective and to view that character as a tool to drive the story forward, rather than my own perspective and honestly it makes it more enjoyable. I didn't gain it naturally, I was taught by my literary teachers and people older than me who also read a lot.
Lastly, I've read so much that I know when to stop reading something I don't enjoy and go for things I do. It's clear it's a lesson everyone else needs to learn instead of complaining about a hobby writers do here for free.
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foreverisntenough · 1 day ago
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‘Movie Night’
Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 
Index:
Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!
Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!
Disclaimer: No one is crazy about him atm, me included, so this is strictly for my readers and my readers only. I don’t condone his behavior at all -Just let me finish out this fic please. Don’t come for me. I’m only a girl with a google doc whose spent hours upon hours and days on end on this fic
Chapter 10 - So Different | ‘Movie Night'
word count - 11.4k
Trent laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind a storm he couldn’t quiet. His phone buzzed on the nightstand, the sound jolting him momentarily out of his haze. Jack’s name lit up the screen, but Trent didn’t move to answer it. He couldn’t. The guilt was suffocating. Every time Jack called, every time Trent saw his name flash across his phone, it felt like a knife twisting deeper into his chest. He couldn’t face him. Couldn’t lie to him. Couldn’t explain to his best friend that the reason he’d been distant wasn’t some random funk but the unbearable heartbreak of losing you. You weren’t just Jack’s sister. He was coming to realize, you were his person, his peace, the one he went to when everything else felt like too much. And now, you were gone, and Trent didn’t know how to function without you. Since that night, he’d gone completely off the grid. He showed up for training, went through the motions, and then went straight home. He couldn’t bring himself to see anyone, to pretend he was okay when he wasn’t. His chest ached constantly, a dull, throbbing pain that he didn’t know how to soothe. He thought about you constantly. The way you’d cried, the way your voice broke. The look in your eyes. It haunted him. He replayed it over and over, trying to figure out where it all went wrong. Was it the secrecy? The guilt? The fear of what Jack and the others would think?
You hadn’t said, ‘Why don’t we just tell them?’ And so, he hadn’t. He’d been too afraid, too consumed by the what-ifs. But now, lying there in the quiet of his room, he wondered if things could have been different if he’d just had the courage to say, I love her. I don’t care what anyone thinks. His phone buzzed again, and he turned his head to look at it. Jack was calling again, and for a fleeting moment, Trent considered answering. But what would he say? How could he explain that he was grieving the loss of you, the girl he was never supposed to fall for but couldn’t help loving? He turned his face into the pillow, the tears coming unbidden. He missed you so much it hurt. He missed your laugh, your smile, the way you made him feel like the best version of himself. He missed the way you fit perfectly in his arms, the way your lips felt against his. He missed you. But he couldn’t have you. He’d made his choice that night, torn between his desire to console you, to pull you into his arms and make you stop crying, and the guilt and fear of Jack finding out. He’d walked away, and now, he was paying the price. Trent closed his eyes, his chest tightening with the weight of it all. He felt like he was losing both of you—you and Jack. He couldn’t talk to his best friend about it, couldn’t tell him the truth, couldn’t even pick up the phone. He was trapped in his own guilt and heartbreak, unable to see a way out. Day in and day out, he lay there, caught in a trance, replaying every moment, every word, every touch. He didn’t know how to move forward without you, didn’t know if he even wanted to. All he knew was that he’d never felt this way before, and he wasn’t sure if he ever would again.
You weren’t fairing all that well yourself. You curled up on your bed, muffling your sobs into the pillow, hoping the sound wouldn’t carry through the walls. But Jack had already noticed. He’d been noticing for days—the way you avoided him, the lack of your usual energy, the way your eyes always looked on the verge of tears. Jack wasn’t one to pry, but this time, he couldn’t stay silent. You heard the knock at your door, a quiet but firm tap, tap, tap.
“Y/N?” Jack’s voice was soft, cautious. “Can I come in?” You froze, wiping your face quickly, though you knew it was pointless.
“Yeah,” you croaked, your voice betraying you. The door creaked open, and Jack stepped inside. His expression shifted instantly when he saw you, eyes red and swollen, clutching your pillow like a lifeline. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, taking it in.
“Come here, what’s gotten into you?” he asked finally, his voice gentle as he opened his arms. You hesitated, guilt twisting in your stomach, but the look on his face broke you. Slowly, you got up and walked into his embrace. The moment his arms wrapped around you, the tears came again, harder this time, like a dam breaking.Jack held you tightly, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other rubbing slow circles on your back. “Hey, you’re okay,” he murmured. “Just breathe for me, yeah?” You tried to, but the sobs kept coming. After a long moment, Jack pulled back slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders as he searched your face. “What’s going on, Y/N? Talk to me. Who’s got ya like this? Is fucking Josh again?” The question hit you like a truck. Who. Not what. He already knew this wasn’t about work or anything trivial. He knew it was someone. You shook your head, pulling away from his touch, your arms wrapping around yourself protectively. 
“It’s nothing,” you mumbled. “I’m fine. Really.” Jack’s brows furrowed, his concern deepening. 
“Y/N, don’t do that. Don’t shut me out. I’m your brother. Just… tell me who it is, and I’ll sort them out.” He cooed with a sympathetic smik. You laughed weakly through the tears, the irony of his words hitting you. If only he knew.
“I can’t,” you whispered, your voice breaking. Jack stepped closer, his hands gentle on your arms. 
“Why not? You know I’d do anything for you, right? Just tell me, and we’ll fix it together.” You shook your head more forcefully this time, the guilt washing over you in waves. You couldn’t. You couldn’t tell him. Not when it was Trent. Not when it was his best friend. Not when it would ruin everything. Not when you had betrayed him. 
“I just can’t, Jack,” you said once over, your voice cracking as fresh tears streamed down your face. “I’ve already lost so much over this. You’ll be mad and I can’t lose you too.” Jack’s face softened, but he still looked confused, like he was trying to piece together a puzzle without all the pieces. 
“Y/N, you’re not gonna lose me,” he said firmly. “You can tell me anything, you know that.” But you couldn’t. You couldn’t risk it. Jack was all you had left, and if he knew the truth, you weren’t sure you’d survive the fallout.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, stepping back toward the bed. “I just… I need to figure this out on my own.” Jack looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn’t. Instead, he sighed and nodded, his hands falling to his sides. 
“Okay,” he said reluctantly. “But if you change your mind, I’m here, alright? Always.” You nodded, biting your lip to keep from breaking down again. When he finally left the room, closing the door behind him, the silence felt deafening. You sank back onto the bed, your heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. You made a decision then. You couldn’t keep doing this—to yourself, to Trent, to Jack. The guilt was eating you alive, and the secrecy was tearing everything apart. It was time to end it. For good.
The week of silence was unbearable. Days stretched into nights, with every moment consumed by guilt, longing, and the reality of what you had both built under Jack’s unsuspecting gaze. For so long, you’d tried to ignore the weight of it all, but now the cracks were too wide, the guilt too heavy. You couldn’t breathe. When you finally stood on Trent’s doorstep, your heart was pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it. You hadn’t texted or called; you’d just shown up, your emotions too raw for words. Trent opened the door, his brows furrowing in surprise when he saw you standing there. His hair was still damp from a shower, his face soft and unguarded. 
“Y/N?” he said, his voice laced with concern. “What are you—”
“We can’t do it anymore,” you interrupted, your voice trembling, already on the verge of tears. “I can’t… I can’t do this anymore.” The words hit him like a blow to the chest. For a moment, he didn’t move, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 
“Just..” He couldn’t even talk before he instinctively reached for you, pulling you into his arms. You collapsed against him, the weight of your words crashing down as sobs racked your body. His strong arms held you tightly, his hand cradling the back of your head as if he could shield you from the pain you were feeling. “Don’t say that,” he murmured into your hair, his voice breaking. “Please, don’t say that.” But you couldn’t stop. 
“I can’t keep lying to Jack,” you whispered against his chest, your tears soaking through his shirt. “I can’t keep lying to myself. This… this isn’t right, T. It’s not right.” Desperation flickered in his eyes as he cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away your tears. 
“I know,” he admitted softly, his voice filled with sorrow. “I know it’s not fair to you. Or to him. But…” He trailed off, his words faltering under the weight of his emotions. The silence between you was heavy, the tension palpable. And then, as if drawn together by some unseen force, his lips found yours. The kiss was desperate, full of unspoken words and heartbreak. You clung to him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded, your fingers tangling in his hair as you poured everything you couldn’t say into that moment. Before you knew it, the two of you were in his room, tangled in his sheets, your bodies pressed together as if trying to erase the distance that had grown between you. It wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, a last-ditch effort to hold onto something slipping away. When it was over, the silence returned, heavier than before. You lay in his arms, your cheek pressed against his chest as his fingers traced lazy patterns on your back. He pressed a kiss to your hair, a soft hum escaping him. The tenderness in that simple gesture broke something inside you. You sniffled, tears slipping down your cheeks once more. 
“This has to be it,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “Okay?” You whimpered.
“Okay,” he replied, his voice low and full of sadness. He tightened his hold on you, his lips brushing against your temple. “But Y/N… can you just stay though? Just for tonight?”  He meekly asked you, his tone desperate. Your breath hitched as his words hit you. 
“Trent…” You cautioned him already struggling to will your body away from his.
“I didn’t know it’d be our last night,” he continued, his voice trembling. “And I just… I just want to remember it right.” You nodded silently, your tears soaking into his skin. You didn’t have the strength to say no, not when he held you like that, not when you could feel his heart breaking beneath your hand.
“This isn’t right,” you whimpered, your voice barely audible. But Trent didn’t respond. He couldn’t. All he could do was hold you tighter, his silence speaking volumes. The two of you stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of goodbye hanging heavy in the air. You knew this was the end, but for now, in this fleeting moment, you allowed yourselves to pretend that it wasn’t.
The morning was heavy with unspoken words as you pulled your clothes on, trying to keep your composure. The air between you and Trent was thick, weighted with everything that had gone wrong and everything that still felt so heartbreakingly right. As you made your way toward the door, Trent followed, his steps slow and hesitant, like he was trying to draw out the moment. 
“Y/N, Stay,” he said quietly, his voice cracking just enough to break your resolve. “We can figure this out. Please.” You paused, your hand resting on the doorknob, your back turned to him. Tears threatened to spill again, but you fought to keep them at bay. You didn’t want to cry anymore. You didn’t want to feel this ache that had embedded itself so deeply into your chest.
“Please don’t make this harder,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you turned to face him. The look on his face nearly destroyed you—his eyes filled with a mix of desperation and heartbreak, his hands hanging helplessly at his sides.
“I’m not trying to make it harder,” he said, taking a step closer. “I just—this, us—it means something to me. You mean something to me. I can’t…” His voice faltered, and he exhaled sharply, trying to steady himself. “I can’t let you go like this.” You shook your head, a small, sad smile tugging at the corners of your lips. 
“You’re saying that because we’re behind closed doors, T… but that’s not the problem.” He shut his eyes, his jaw tightening as if the words physically hurt him. You knew he wanted to say something, to fight back, to convince you that it didn’t matter where you were, as long as you were together. But deep down, he knew you were right. As you reached for your bag, something poked you in the side, reminding you of what you’d brought with you. A lump formed in your throat as you pulled it out, the tattered book of poems looking smaller in your hands than it had when you first tucked it away.
“I forgot…” you started, your voice barely audible. “I want you to have this.” You extended the book toward him, and he hesitated for a moment before taking it from you, his fingers brushing against yours. The touch sent a jolt through your body, one final reminder of what you were about to lose. “I’m sorry for what I said the other night,” you said, your voice breaking as fresh tears began to blur your vision. “You are the furthest thing from nothing to me. You are everything, in fact. You are it all, T.” His hands shook slightly as he took the book. 
“Please don’t do this,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. When he looked up at you, his eyes were filled with a pain so raw it made your chest tighten. “Don’t go. I’m begging you.” You couldn’t stop the tears now, and they fell freely as you took a step back, creating the distance you knew you needed to survive this. 
“I have to,” you choked out. His hand clenched around the book, holding it close to his chest like it was the only piece of you he’d have left.  Trent’s fingers trembled as he turned the fragile pages of the book, the faint scent of aged paper filling the air. It didn’t take long until he started to notice the black ink penned in a handwriting he’d only seen a number of times in birthday cards. His head was almost hurting because he couldn’t place it. It wasn’t yours. His eyes scanned the handwritten notes in the margins, each word was a delicate imprint of your mum’s love and care, left behind like breadcrumbs leading back to her. The book flopped open on it’s own by its worn seam to a page you’d pressed the flower he’d given you the other week. His heart hurt more than his head at that moment. And then he saw it—why you’d marked the page - a line your mum had circled and underlined, her handwriting curling beside it with a note that seemed to reach through time:
'Even though we never said it to each other - We knew'
'Always reminds me of you and TAA—tell him one day, okay?'
His breath caught, his chest tightening as though the air had been stolen from the room. His grip on the book wavered, his fingers brushing against the daisy you had carefully pressed between the pages, a small but profound reminder of the park, of the simple, unguarded moments you shared. The lump in his throat was unbearable as he felt the weight of everything—the love, the grief, the guilt—all crashing down at once. 
“I know this didn’t work, but…” You stood there, knowing he’d read it, barely holding it together, your voice breaking as you forced yourself to speak. 
“Stop,” Trent cut you off, his voice shaky but insistent, the emotion barely contained. His movements were deliberate as he placed the book down on the counter, as if it were sacred. Then, with no hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly, like letting go would shatter him completely. “We’re not doing this,” he murmured against your hair, his voice breaking. “We’re not nothing. I know we’re not. You know we’re not… She knew we weren’t. Y/N please.” The conviction in his words only made the ache in your chest swell. You buried your face in his chest, tears spilling freely now, soaking into his shirt. 
“I’m so scared, Trent,” you whispered, your voice trembling. You felt like in a way you’d disappoint your mum in giving up this but it was terrifying to love him. He was no longer a school boy, he was larger than life. “I’m so scared I’m just the girl of the season to you. That I’ll lose you, Jack, everyone. I can’t do this again. I can’t…” You confessed amidst your tears. He pressed his lips to the top of your head, his hands cupping the back of your neck as he pulled you even closer. 
“You’re not,” he whispered fiercely, the words shaking with emotion. “You’re not the girl of the season. You’ve been the girl of every season. My only season. You’ve been every single one.” His words cracked something deep inside you, but they didn’t erase the fear. You pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes, your tears making the world blur around you. 
“I don’t know how to do this,” you admitted, your voice breaking on every syllable.  “I don’t know how to keep everyone happy and not lose you at the same time. I feel like I’m losing everything.” His hands came to rest on either side of your face, his thumbs brushing away your tears as his forehead gently touched yours. His voice softened, but it carried an unshakable strength. 
“We’ll figure it out,” he said, his words wrapping around you like a lifeline. “We don’t have to have all the answers now. Just stay with me, baby. We can sort this.” Tears streamed down your cheeks as you shook your head, the weight of the situation suffocating you. 
“This isn’t right,” you whimpered, your voice breaking under the weight of your emotions. “None of this is right.”
“Stay,” he begged softly, his voice raw and unguarded. “Please don’t leave me like this.” You sobbed into his chest, clinging to him like he was the only thing anchoring you in the storm of your emotions. His grip on you tightened, his own tears threatening to spill as he pressed a desperate kiss to your hair. You nodded through your sobs, too broken to speak, your hands clutching at him like he was your last tether to hope. But even as you let yourself sink into the safety of his arms, the doubts lingered, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on both of you. The unsaid love was there, undeniable and unrelenting, but so was the pain, and neither of you knew how to make it stop. Trent looked at the book carefully, his fingers trembling as he reached towards it with one hand. a centimeter of the daisy still delicately pressed inside sticking out. His eyes lingered on it for a moment before turning to you, his gaze steady despite the rawness between you both. “Keep this,” he said, his voice soft but resolute as he picked it up. “She left more in there than an annotation about me.” He smiled sympathetically at you. He’d glanced at the pages before his name appeared, and although it was brief he understood your mum purposefully left this book for you. It was a way for her to communicate with you, to support you through situations you might face after she was gone. “You keep all the other stuff. I don’t need any more if I know she was on board because I’m not going anywhere… that’s all I needed to know.” His certainty was like a balm against the ache in your chest, but the weight of everything still loomed heavy in your mind. You shook your head slightly, your voice barely above a whisper. 
“But if this doesn’t work… T, I can’t” you started, the fear in your words palpable. Trent stepped closer, his hand reaching out to cradle your face. His thumb brushed against your cheek, catching a stray tear. 
“Then I’ll still be here,” he told you firmly, his voice tinged with quiet determination. “I just told you. I'm not leaving.” His words wrapped around your heart, pulling at every fragile piece of you. 
“But how can you be so sure?” you whispered, your voice breaking as you searched his eyes for answers. “I didn’t mean for this to be a guilt trip. I just wanted you to know…” You babbled as your tears ran down your cheeks. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours, his voice steady and calm. 
“It’s not… And… I know… because you’re it for me. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. We’ll try, yeah?” You nodded sheepishly, your heart warring with your fears, but his certainty felt like a light in the darkness. “Gonna give it a try, hmm?” he asked softly, his lips ghosting over your forehead in a tender kiss. This time, your nod was more sure, a small smile breaking through the tears. 
“Okay,” you murmured. And in that moment, with the weight of the book in his hands and the promise hanging between you, it felt like maybe, just maybe, there was a way forward.
The next morning, the doorbell rang, pulling you out of your thoughts. Jack had already left for work, leaving you to shuffle to the door, still in your pajamas. You opened it to find not one but four massive flower arrangements towering in front of you. You blinked, confused, as the delivery man smiled politely and gestured for you to sign.
“Someone really likes you,” he remarked, handing you a small card after you’d awkwardly squeezed the arrangements inside. The arrangements were stunning—each one so different. One was a soft white and cream, delicate and elegant. Another burned bright with orangey-red hues, vibrant and warm. The third was lush with deep greens, earthy and grounding, and the last shimmered in an unexpected blue, rare and calming. You stood there for a moment, staring at the kaleidoscope of colors, trying to piece it together. Then you opened the card.
'To the girl I’ve let wait too many seasons—will you please let me take you out for a proper date?'
You laughed through your tears, the emotions of the past weeks bubbling over at once. The note continued, listing specific details about when and where he wanted to meet you, but you could barely read through the happy blur in your eyes. It was so him, so thoughtful, and yet so immediate—like he couldn’t stand another second without making his words from the night before a reality. The concept of girl of the season really was about his football season but the fact that flowers went beyond that. It was one for each season of the year; spring, summer, autumn, and winter. All there to signify, you were more than just a football season to him and he wanted you to know that. You held the card to your chest, tears still slipping down your cheeks as giggles broke through. He had acted quickly, proving he meant every word, every promise. Trent was asking, not waiting. Not hiding. This time, he was yours, out loud, in full color. And all you could think was… finally.
When Trent typed your address into his phone to send the delivery, his chest tightened with a familiar pang of guilt. It wasn’t just your address—it was Jack’s too. That nagging feeling of betrayal washed over him as his thumb hovered above the screen, memories from years ago creeping back unbidden. He could still hear Jack’s voice, clear as day, as if it were happening all over again. They were in Jack’s room, sprawled out after school, the usual banter bouncing around the group. A newer guy to their circle, loud and brash, had just moved to town and had made an offhand remark about you after seeing a picture on Jack’s phone.
“Is this your sister, mate? Fuck off! She’s well fit,” the guy had said, smirking. It wasn’t even a serious comment, but Jack’s reaction was immediate and sharp.
“Oi, Off-limits,” Jack had snapped, his tone firm and brooking no argument. He glanced around the room then, making sure everyone understood. “If that wasn’t already clear, no one moves to Y/N.” There was a beat of awkward silence before Noah, always the one to push a joke too far, broke it. 
“Come on, mate! What if she likes us? Girls move to me! What if she moves to me, huh?” He teased. Jack didn’t even crack a smile. 
“Nah. If she has feelings for ya, too bad.” Trent had sat quietly on the edge of the bed, his face carefully neutral, but the way Jack’s eyes flickered toward him didn’t go unnoticed. It was subtle, just a moment, but it lingered. Jack’s expression softened briefly before he looked away.
“Maybe…” Jack muttered under his breath, something unsaid hanging heavy in the room. But then, just as quickly, he turned back to Noah, snapping back into his usual banter. “But she’s not interested in you, mate. You’re a charity case.” The rest of the room burst into laughter, and the moment was gone, buried under their usual teasing. But Trent hadn’t laughed. He had felt something then, a pang of disappointment mixed with the quiet realization that Jack knew. Maybe Jack didn’t know the extent of it, but he’d always known there was something unspoken between you and Trent. And now here Trent was, years later, actively crossing the line Jack had drawn so clearly. He wasn’t a clueless teenager anymore, and the weight of what he was doing—and who he was risking—felt heavier than ever. But then his thoughts shifted to you. The way you’d looked at him the night before, your voice shaking as you’d told him he was everything, even when you thought you were losing him. That was enough to push the guilt aside, if only for a moment.
You called Layla that morning from your bedroom, your voice still thick with emotion but tinged with something lighter-relief, excitement, maybe even disbelief.
"When I tell you I was sobbing," you started, gripping the the edge of your dresser as you tried to steady your voice. "I was a mess, Layla. But then —he literally sent me flowers today. Like four arrangements. Four!" You explained. Layla didn't even pause before diving in, her tone pitched halfway between glee and exasperation.
"Finally! I've been screaming 'about time' since the first time you finally hooked up! That man's been fucking you for ages and he's just now asking you on a date?" She fell into giggles. You couldn't help but laugh, your cheeks heating even as you rolled your eyes.
"Layla! Can we not put it like that?" You tried to fight back a laugh.
"But I'm right!" she shot back. "It's been this whole dramatic saga of hiding and sneaking and you ending up crying at all hours because he's scared. And finally, he's putting it out there. I'm sorry, but I'm thrilled." You sighed, glancing at the arrangements. 
"It feels... so different this time. He said he wants to do it right. He called me the girl of every season." Your voice cracked on the last few words, the weight of everything hitting you all over again. Layla softened instantly. 
"Oh, babe. That's what you've wanted to hear, yeah? That he's sure. That he's not just scared of what Jack and the boys think but ready to fight for you." She cooed. You nodded even though she couldn't see you, tears pooling in your eyes. 
"It's just...so much. I feel like I'm still holding my breath. Like, what if it's too good to be true?" You asked her sheepishly. 
"Then let him prove it's not," Layla said firmly. "You've already been through the worst of it. Let him show you he's ready for the best of it." You sniffled, wiping at your eyes. 
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but...l think he is. Is that bad?” You asked her hesitantly hoping she’d almost lie to you if she felt otherwise. But Layla answered honestly, always. 
"No. This is good, Y/N, I can feel it," she said. "I''m so happy for you. Now we just let him sweep you off your feet properly. And wear something hot. You deserve to make him sweat." She told you very matter of fact and your mind began to work in overdrive after that imagining what you possibly had in your wardrobe that was fit for the occasion of all occasions; your first proper date with your brother’s best friend.
When the evening came, getting ready for the date felt surreal. You’d spent so long imagining this moment, and now that it was happening, the weight of it settled over you like a heavy, fluttering blanket. The mirror reflected your carefully chosen outfit, but your nerves made you question everything—was it too much? Not enough? Layla’s voice echoed in your head: Make him sweat. When the doorbell rang, your heart lurched. Trent was at your house. For a date. You opened the door with a shy smile, and Trent’s reaction stole whatever breath you had left. 
Trent had stepped out of the car, his heart already thudding in his chest as he approached the front door. For a split second, he hesitated, the weight of everything—Jack, the years of denying his feelings, the risks—hitting him all at once. This was your house, but it was also Jack’s house, and the lines between those roles had always blurred in his mind. You weren’t supposed to be this person for him. You weren’t supposed to be his. But when the door opened, and you stepped out to greet him, all of that disappeared. Everything—Jack, the past, the unspoken boundaries—faded into nothing. All that was left was you. And you were breathtaking. He blinked, stunned, as his eyes drank you in. You were wearing a black Saint Laurent mini dress that clung to your figure in all the right ways, the fabric draping elegantly across your body. The deep V neckline hinted at so much but revealed just enough to keep it tasteful, leaving him completely undone. The simplicity of the dress only heightened how stunning you looked, and Trent couldn’t believe this was the same girl he used to see in oversized jumpers and trainers, lounging on Jack’s sofa. You didn’t look like Jack’s sister anymore. You didn’t even look like the girl he’d been secretly pining for all this time. You looked like his.
“Wow,” he finally managed, his voice low and a little hoarse. He shook his head, clearly taken aback as his eyes swept over you slowly. He couldn’t stop staring, his gaze trailing from your perfectly styled hair down to the way the dress skimmed your thighs, then back up to meet your eyes. “You look…” He trailed off, shaking his head slightly as if trying to find the right words.  He didn’t even finish the thought, just stepped closer and brushed a hand down your arm as if grounding himself.
“I look…?” Your nerves melted a little at his touch, and you dared to tease him. He smiled, leaning in to kiss your temple. 
“You look perfect. Unreal…”  He cooed. A shy smile crept across your lips as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. 
“Thank you,” you murmured softly, feeling the intensity of his gaze. Trent took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he reached for you.
 “You don’t look like…” He stopped himself, realizing how ridiculous it would sound to say, you don’t look like Jack’s sister right now. Instead, he smiled, his eyes softening as he leaned in closer. “You look like you. But more. If that makes sense.” Your smile widened, your cheeks flushing. 
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you teased, trying to ease the tension that was crackling between you. But Trent didn’t laugh. He couldn’t. His eyes were too busy tracing the way the soft lighting from the porch framed your face, making your features glow. You weren’t just beautiful—you were magnetic. “Let’s go,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with something more than affection—something closer to awe. 
“Hold my hand.” His words were so simple, but the warmth in them settled your nerves as you slipped your hand into his. His fingers gently brushing yours before intertwining, his grip reassuring. He gently tugged on your hand, pulling you toward him as he bent down to kiss your temple, his lips lingering there for a moment.  And as he led you to the car, his heart racing and his mind whirling, all Trent could think was how wrong he’d been to ever believe you were off limits. You weren’t just something he wanted anymore. You were something he couldn’t imagine letting go. As you walked toward the car waiting outside, the weight of the situation loomed again. You hesitated, beginning to voice your lingering fear. Your anxiety if you should even be holding his hand here in front of the house skyrocketing. 
“Are you…?” You began to speak but Trent didn’t let you finish. 
“Yeah, I’m really sure.” His voice was steady, his gaze unwavering as he glanced down at you. He traced his thumb along the back of your hand, his certainty radiating through his touch. The tension in your chest loosened, and you let out a soft hum of approval. 
“Okay.” You leaned in, kissing his shoulder as the two of you reached the car. Trent smiled down at you, opening the door with care. For the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something real.
The restaurant’s ambiance was a perfect blend of understated elegance and intimacy. The flickering candlelight reflected off the polished wood of your table, casting soft shadows that danced across Trent’s face. The low hum of conversation and occasional bursts of laughter from other diners barely registered; your world felt narrowed to the man sitting across from you. Trent was watching you intently, his eyes never straying far from yours. It was as though he was memorizing every detail, every expression, and every shift in your mood. You took a sip of your wine, savoring the moment, but before you could set your glass down, Trent leaned forward. His thumb gently brushed the corner of your mouth, catching a droplet of the deep red, his touch light but deliberate.
“Got you,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. His thumb lingered for a few seconds longer. You blinked, caught off guard by the tender gesture. 
“Thank you,” you whispered, the words barely audible as your cheeks heated. You ducked your head slightly, shy under his steady gaze. But Trent wasn’t about to let you retreat into yourself. He leaned across the table a little more, his hand moved to hold for your chin. His fingers tilted your face toward him, his touch as soft as his voice. 
“Look at me, baby,” he said gently, and when you lifted your eyes to meet his, he gave you a small, reassuring smile. Then, before you could overthink it, he closed the gap between you. His lips brushed against yours in a kiss so light it felt like a question, as if he was giving you the chance to pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you leaned in, your heart racing as the kiss deepened for just a moment before you pulled back with a nervous giggle.
“Sorry,” you said, biting your lip. “That was… woah, you had me…. That was a lot...” You laughed shaking your head. You weren’t sure what planet you were on. He had pulled you into this world tonight that felt so surreal. He’d never done that to you before, kissed you in public, flirted with you at right while you sat across a table from him, it was all so confusing, and yet, he looked calm as ever. His movements were slow and deliberate. But then Trent chuckled, leaning back in his seat, but his hand stayed on yours, his thumb stroking over your knuckles. 
“Was it now?” he teased, his grin playful. You smirked, trying to compose yourself. 
“How many girls have you done that to?” you asked, your tone light but with a touch of curiosity beneath the joke. Trent raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. 
“What kind of question is that?” He asked you. His smile now sickened handsome and taunting.
“An important one,” you shot back, your grin widening. He held up his hand, palm out like he was swearing an oath. 
“Hand on heart, I have never wiped someone’s face. Not like that.” He told you. You narrowed your eyes at him, skeptical.
“Sure,” you drawled, the sarcasm dripping from your tone.
“I swear,” he said, leaning forward with a laugh. “You can ask anyone. I’ve never done that before.” You shook your head, trying to hide the way his words made your heart flutter. 
“Right,” you muttered, looking down at your plate to avoid his gaze. The restaurant around you felt like a cocoon. The warm lighting and muted colors created a sense of privacy, even though you knew other people were dining nearby. It was hard to tell if his choice in restaurants that felt hidden was intentional or if it was just your perception, but either way, it was okay. The world outside might as well not exist you were so transfixed on him tonight. You had recently got to spend a lot of time with Trent but really getting his undivided attention at a dinner had your head spinning. And apparently that internal chaos was something he could feel. 
“Stop overthinking,” Trent said suddenly, his voice breaking through your thoughts. You looked up at him, startled. 
“I’m not.” You smiled softly trying to just act normal but you couldn’t. 
“You are.” He smirked, his fingers sliding across the table to intertwine with yours. “I can see it all over your face.” You sighed, letting your thumb trace over his hand in return.
 “Maybe I am,” you admitted. “This just… it feels surreal.”
“Surreal good or surreal bad?” he asked, his tone soft but his expression serious.
“Surreal good,” you said quickly, meeting his eyes. “Definitely good.” He smiled at that, the kind of smile that made your heart skip a beat.
 “Good,” he said simply, squeezing your hand. The rest of the evening unfolded in a blur of easy conversation and quiet laughter. Trent kept finding ways to touch you—his hand brushing against yours, his knee bumping yours under the table, his fingers trailing lightly over your wrist when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Each touch felt deliberate, like he was grounding himself in the moment. By the time dessert arrived, you’d forgotten about everything outside of this little bubble you’d created together. For the first time in what felt like forever, you weren’t worried about what came next. You were just… happy.
Just as the waiter placed dessert on the table, your eyes drifted across the restaurant, scanning the room out of habit. That’s when you saw him—a player from Manchester United, someone you vaguely recognized. It took a moment to place him, but when you did, your stomach dropped. He wasn’t just another footballer. He was someone who was friends with Josh. And worse, he also knew Trent. Your fingers tightened around the edge of the table as a wave of anxiety crashed over you. He hadn’t noticed you yet, but it didn’t matter. The possibility that he might put two and two together made your throat tighten. Your heart raced as your mind spun through a dozen worst-case scenarios.
“Everything okay?” Trent’s voice cut through the fog. He’d been reaching for his fork, but now his full attention was on you, concern flickering in his eyes. You forced a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.
 “Yeah, I’m fine,” you said quickly, trying to sound casual. Trent didn’t buy it. His hand reached across the table, covering yours. 
“What’s wrong, baby. Is this not what you wanted?” He asked. You weren’t sure if he meant the dessert you just ordered or tonight in general, and while you thought you wanted both before now… you weren’t sure.  You hesitated, glancing back toward the other player, who was now laughing with his group, blissfully unaware of your presence. 
“It’s nothing,” you said, your voice quieter.
“Y/N,” Trent said firmly, his hand squeezing yours. “Talk to me.” You looked back at him, his steady gaze grounding you for a moment, but the weight in your chest didn’t lift.
“Someone we know is here..” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Who?” Trent’s brows furrowed, his body tensing slightly as his protective instincts kicked in.
“Some lad on Man United… I think you know him,” you said, your eyes darting nervously toward the man again. “But he knows Josh… and he knows you.” Trent’s jaw tightened, and his grip on your hand shifted, his thumb stroking over your knuckles in a soothing motion.
 “Okay,” he said slowly. “And?”
“And he might recognize me,” you blurted out. “Us. Together.” Trent leaned back slightly, his expression softening as he pieced together your anxiety. 
“You’re worried about people finding out.” He cooed softly empathizing with your fear.  This was a big change to go from stolen kisses in the kitchen to sitting out in public together. You nodded, your stomach twisting. 
“This whole night has been amazing, but… I don’t know if I’m ready for this. For being public. For the questions, the stares, the judgment. I mean, what if Jack—” you began to babble, faster more panicked.
“Stop, pretty girl.” Trent interrupted gently but firmly. “Breathe for a second.” You took a shaky breath, but your chest still felt tight. “Look at me,” he said, his tone steady. When your eyes met his, he leaned forward, his expression open and earnest. “I get it. I do. This is… a lot. And if you’re not ready, we can figure it out. But right now, it’s just us. No one else matters.” He told you in a tone that Trent reserved solely god you. It was commanding but incredibly weak all at once. You swallowed hard, his words calming you slightly, but doubt still lingered. 
“I don’t want to ruin this,” you admitted, your voice cracking.
“You won’t,” he said, his tone firm. “I won’t let you.” The conviction in his voice made you want to believe him, but the weight of everything—your past, your ex, Jack, the scrutiny that would inevitably come—still sat heavy on your chest.
 “I just…” You trailed off, struggling to find the right words.
“Baby... please. Just be here with me ,” Trent said with a small smile. “I’m here with you. That’s all that matters right now. And if it's really too much, just say the word. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work but for right now.. Just try.” He cooed gently.  You stared at him, your heart aching at the sincerity in his eyes. 
“You’re being too nice.” You giggled nervously. Trent had always been unreasonably patient and kind with you and that clearly wasn’t about to change. “I don’t deserve you,” you whispered.
“Yes, you do,” he said without hesitation, his voice so sure it made your chest tighten even more. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that you could do this, that you could be brave enough to let this relationship exist outside of the shadows. But as you glanced back at the other boy across the room, your stomach churned with doubt. Trent’s hand on yours pulled your attention back to him.  “Hey,” he said softly. “baby, I'm serious, if you’re not ready, we can leave. No pressure.” Trent meant what he said but he'd be lying if a part of him wasn't aching for you just to try with him. To really commit to him, to this, to trying- it hurt. You hesitated for a moment before shaking your head.  The dinner had been perfect so far—Trent’s soft smiles, the way his fingers occasionally grazed yours on the table, and the playful, teasing lilt of his voice when he spoke. But your nerves had made it hard to focus entirely on him. You were too aware of your surroundings, glancing discreetly across the restaurant, noting every unfamiliar face. And then him. Josh’s friend. Maybe his name was Devon, you couldn't remember. And while he hadn’t said a word to you or Trent, his presence alone had unsettled you, pulling your mind into a spiral of what ifs. You felt like you were holding your breath, waiting for something to go wrong. You looked at Trent, his concern breaking through the wall of anxiety building in your chest. Trent was being so gentle, so patient, and it hit you—he deserved all of your attention tonight. It wasn’t fair to let the past shadow this moment.
“I’m okay, baby. Thank you. I'm sorry. I'm here." you said, smiling as you squeezed his hand. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to let go of the tension in your shoulders, and allowed yourself to fall back into the bubble he created. With each passing minute, it became easier to focus solely on him. His laughter was infectious, the way he leaned in closer to you when you spoke made your stomach flutter. You’d forgotten how safe it felt to be wrapped up in someone like this, where the rest of the world melted away. But while you were blissfully unaware, Josh’s friend wasn’t. From his seat across the restaurant, he stared, squinting as recognition settled in. First, he caught sight of Trent—someone he knew well from the pitch, a rival he loved to hate. Then, his gaze shifted to you, seated across from him, clearly on a date. It was all too good. You, the ex of his best mate, now smiling, laughing, leaning into the guy who had made headlines time and again for his assists. He reached for his phone, holding it low as he snapped a photo of you both, capturing the intimacy of the moment. Trent’s hand resting on yours, your head tilted slightly as you laughed at something he’d just said. He smirked, tucking the phone away, already composing the perfect explanation to Josh when they inevitably debriefed. Meanwhile, you and Trent remained nonchalant, completely unaware of the brewing storm outside your little world. It didn’t matter, though—not right now. Your focus was on the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, on how his foot brushed against yours under the table. For that moment, it was just the two of you—soft beginnings and unspoken promises, blissfully unaware of the chaos looming on the horizon.
As the car rolled down Trent’s driveway, the engine cut and he turned to you, his hand still loosely holding yours. “I’m off tomorrow,” he said, his voice soft but hopeful. “You’ll stay with me tonight?” He asked. You tilted your head, pretending to consider it, but the grin tugging at your lips gave you away. 
“Obviously,” you teased with a giggle.
“C’mon,” he said with a smirk, stepping out of the car and coming around to open your door, his hand extended to help you out. As you walked to his front door, he hesitated for a moment before speaking again, his tone quieter. 
“I know this might sound stupid, but… I feel like I don’t sleep as well when you’re not here.” Your heart clenched at his honesty, and you turned to look at him, warmth spreading through your chest. 
“Aw, I’m sorry,” you said, teasing but still genuine. “Guess you’ll just have to invite me over more often.”  You smiled at him.
“Yeah?” He smiled down at you, his eyes soft in the dim light. 
“Yeah,” you said confidently, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’ll be here whenever you need me.” Trent unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping aside to let you in first. 
“That’s all the time.” As you walked past him, he murmured under his breath, almost like he didn’t mean for you to hear it. You stopped just inside the doorway and turned to look at him, your expression softening. 
“Hmm?” you asked.
“Nothing,” he said quickly, a bashful smile tugging at his lips. But you weren’t letting him off that easy.
“No, say it again. You said something,” you cooed, stepping closer to him, your curiosity piqued. He hesitated, running a hand over his hair, before finally meeting your eyes.
 “I said that’s all the time. I need you all the time.” He repeated himself feeling a little embarrassed. For a moment, the air between you felt heavier, charged with something unspoken but deeply felt. You stepped closer, your hand reaching up to brush against his cheek. 
“You’re such a closeted melt, you know that?” you teased, your voice trembling slightly with emotion.
“Yeah, well,” he said, his voice softening as his hands found your waist, pulling you closer. “You bring it out of me.” You leaned into him, your forehead resting against his, and for a moment, the world outside didn’t matter. It was just you and Trent, tangled up in each other, finding solace in the quiet honesty of the moment.
The moment you stepped into Trent’s ensuite that night, a wave of peace swept over you, so profound it nearly took your breath away. You paused in the doorway, your hand resting on the frame as your eyes scanned the room. It was large but not overly ornate, it felt like him—clean, understated, yet warm. Your toothbrush stood beside his on the sink, its placement deliberate and thoughtful. A small bottle of your favorite cleanser sat next to his cologne, nestled naturally as if it had always belonged there. A claw clip of yours rested near the edge of the counter, a quiet, unspoken reminder of the nights you’d spent here. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to undo you. You felt a tightness in your chest, not from anxiety or pain, but from an overwhelming sense of being seen. In the past, you’d been in rooms like this before. You’d picked up a bobby pin that didn’t belong to you, brushed past an earring left by someone else, and each time, it stung like a fresh wound, proof that you were just one of many. But here? Here, there were no ghosts of anyone else. Only you. It was all you tucked neatly beside only him. You took a step forward, letting your fingers trail along the edge of the counter. The thought of it—Trent deliberately making room for you, keeping your things here like they were as much a part of his space as his own—made your heart swell. It was such a simple thing, yet it felt monumental.
The sound of his footsteps behind you pulled you from your thoughts. You turned slightly to see him walk in, peeling his T-shirt off over his head in one easy motion. His body, lean and strong, caught the soft light of the room. He tossed the shirt onto the hamper carelessly before his eyes found yours in the mirror. A small, easy smile played on his lips as he crossed the room toward you, his movements unhurried. When he reached you, he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you gently into him. His warmth seeped into your back as he pressed his chin against your shoulder, meeting your gaze in the mirror.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said softly, his voice low and steady, full of sincerity. You turned your head to look at him directly, but before you could speak, he tilted his head down, pressing a tender kiss to the side of your neck. His lips brushed against your skin, and the simple touch sent a shiver through you. “I mean it,” he murmured into the curve of your shoulder, his voice muffled but no less sure. “I can’t sleep without you sometimes, baby.” His confession made your breath hitch. Your chest rose and fell, your heart racing, but not from nerves. This was so different, quieter, yet somehow so much deeper. You turned fully into his embrace, letting your hands rest on his forearms, your fingers tracing the lean muscles there. His lips trailed across your skin, pressing soft, unhurried kisses along your neck and shoulder. He wasn’t rushing; he was savoring, as if every touch of his lips was a silent reassurance, a promise he didn’t yet know how to put into words. You let your eyes flutter shut, leaning back into him as he tightened his hold on you. His hands slid beneath your shirt, his fingers finding their place on your bare stomach. He rubbed slow, languid circles there, his touch both grounding and electrifying. “You look so good like this,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and reverent. A quiet hum escaped your lips as you leaned into him even more, your head resting against his shoulder. It wasn’t just his touch that made you feel this way; it was the way he held you, like you were something precious, something he didn’t want to let go of.
“This,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “This feels… perfect.” You told him.
“It does,” he replied, his voice equally soft but certain. For a while, you stayed there, wrapped in each other, letting the stillness of the moment settle over you. The air between you was charged yet calming, full of unspoken truths and quiet reassurances. As his hands continued their soothing motion on your stomach, you felt it—a profound sense of belonging. This wasn’t just a room, or a night, or even a fleeting moment. This was what you’d been searching for, what you hadn’t known you needed until now.
“You really like when I stay with you?” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly with emotion.
“I really do,” he promised, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. His words weren’t just for the moment; they felt like a vow, one you believed with your whole heart. And as you stood there, his arms around you, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you in the quiet comfort of something that finally felt like home. Your moment of bliss was split when his phone rang. It was late, no one but someone important would call this late so you nodded for him to take it. He placed a couple more kisses onto your shoulder and your neck before dragging his hands off of you.
"Come to bed when you’re ready," he murmured nodding you on to finish getting ready for bed whilst he answered a phone call that ended up being from his agent.  
As you stepped out of the en-suite, Trent was already lying on the bed, propped up against the headboard, his dark eyes fixed on you. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the bedside lamp, casting a warm glow over his chiseled features. He looked god-esque, his tanned skin glistening in the soft light, and his brown eyes sparkling with desire. You could feel a rush of excitement as you noticed the bulge in his sweatpants, a clear indication of his arousal. Smiling shyly, you approach the bed, your heart racing. Setting your phone down on the nightstand, you climbed onto the bed, your eyes never leaving his. Trent's gaze traveled down your body, taking in every curve, his eyes lingering on your tits, now partially exposed in your little silk pajama set.
"You look beautiful," he says, his voice deep and husky. "I love seeing you like this, at home with me… getting into bed with me.” He told you and though you agreed with loving his domestic this all felt you really liked the undertone of lust. You blushed at his words, feeling a surge of pleasure at the way he was able to make you feel desired. 
"Yeah?” you replied, your voice a little breathless. "I like how you look at me when I get into your bed.” You smirked. Trent chuckled, a low, seductive sound that sent shivers down your spine. 
"I can't help it, baby. You're so fucking sexy." He reached out and ran his fingers along your jawline, his touch sending sparks of electricity through your body. "I've been thinking about this all day. About having you here, back in my bed, doing all the things I've been dreaming of." Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You'd been dreaming of this moment too, of being with Trent, of a night like tonight exploring the passion and desire you'd both kept hidden for so long now bringing it out in public. Yet, in the bedroom, in private, was where you most wanted to be. You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes as his thumb brushed over your lower lip. "I want to make you feel good, Y/N," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin. "I want to touch you, taste you, make you say my name." He cooed gently with a purr. Your breath caught in your throat as his words sank in. You  always knew Trent was a confident and dominant guy, but hearing him express his desires so openly sends a thrill through your body every time.  You wanted to please him, to submit to his every whim, and the thought excited you beyond measure.
"Yes, please," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I want that now, baby." Trent's eyes darkened with a fierce intensity, and he pulled you closer, his strong arms wrapping around your waist. He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, a gentle tease that left you craving more.
 "I'm going to take care of you, baby," he murmurs between kisses. As his lips captured yours, you melted into the kiss, your body molding perfectly to his. His tongue danced with yours, exploring, tasting, and claiming. You can taste the mint from your toothpaste on his tongue, a refreshing contrast to the heat building between you. His kiss was demanding, possessive, and it sent a clear message—he wants you, and he's going to have you. Your hands began to roam over his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his freshly clean shirt he’d just put on. You tugged at the fabric, eager to feel his skin against yours. Trent broke the kiss, his breathing heavy as he helped you lift his shirt over his head, revealing his sculpted torso. The sight of his bare chest took your breath away. His skin was smooth and tanned, with a light dusting of hair that trails down his stomach, disappearing into the waistband of his joggers.
"Fuck, you're so hot, T," you whispered, running your fingers over his pecs, feeling the rigid definition of his muscles. Trent's eyes gleamed with satisfaction at your words. He leaned back, pulling you on top of him, your legs straddling his waist. The position giving you a delicious sense of power. You took a moment to admire the sight of his strong body beneath you.
"Y/N," he growled your name, his hands gripping your thighs. "Show me how much you want me." He commanded you. You bit your lip, feeling a surge of boldness as you reached down grasping the waistband of his joggers. With slow, deliberate movements, you slid them down his hips, revealing his thick, erect cock, straining against his boxer briefs. You let out a soft gasp at the sight, your body throbbing with need, your fingers tracing the length of his shaft through the thin fabric. Trent's breath hitched as your fingers teased him, he bucked his hips, seeking more contact.  "Fuck, baby," he groans. "Take what you want. Show me.” You didn’t need to be told twice. With a swift motion, you hooked your thumbs under the elastic of his underwear and pulled them down, freeing his hard length. His cock sprung free, thick and heavy, the head glistening with pre-cum. You lean down, your breath ghosting over the sensitive skin, making him shudder. "Suck my cock, pretty girl," he commanded smugly, his hands gently dragging up your arm, to your shoulder, before moving to push some of your hair back. You obliged with a smile and a hum, lowering your head and taking the tip of his cock into your warm mouth. Trent let out a guttural moan as you swirled your tongue around the head, tasting the salty sweetness of him. You sucked gently, taking him deeper, inch by inch, until you could feel his hands in your hair, encouraging you to take more. "That's it, good girl," he grunted, his hips thrusting gently, fucking your mouth. And you took him well, minute after minute. "You wanna make me cum, baby? Suck me nice and slow, feel how hard you make me." You moaned around his length, the vibrations sending him over the edge. Trent's hands tighten in your hair, holding you in place as he empties his load down your throat. You swallow, relishing the taste of him, the evidence of his pleasure. He pulled you up, his lips seeking yours, sharing a deep, passionate kiss. "You're incredible," he breathed, his hands stroking your back. "I can't get enough of you." You smiled against his lips, feeling empowered by his words. 
"I want to feel you inside me, T," you whispered, your hands roaming down his body, eager for more of him. He grinned, his eyes alight with anticipation.
“Mmmm, good, cause I plan to be inside you all night, baby." With that, he rolled you onto your back, his body covering yours, his lips trailing kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His hands slide under your top, caressing your skin, making you squirm with delight. "Let me take this off," he murmurs, his fingers deftly pulling up your silk tank top. You lifted your arms, allowing him to remove the garment, baring your tits to his hungry gaze. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of your tits, your nipples already taut and begging for attention. "So fucking gorgeous," he growled, lowering his head to take a tight peak into his mouth. His tongue teased and suckled, drawing a moan from deep within you. You arched into his touch, your hands threading through his hair, holding him to you as he lavished attention on your sensitive flesh. His hands roamed over your body, exploring, squeezing, and caressing, making you feel alive and desired in a way you never had. "So good f’me, baby," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin as he moves to the other boob, giving it the same attentive treatment. You're lost in a haze of pleasure, your body humming with desire. Trent's hands travel down your body, playing with the waistband of your shorts before sliding them down your legs, leaving you clad only in your lacy panties. He took a moment to admire your naked form, his eyes burning with appreciation. "You're so fucking beautiful, Y/N," he says, his voice thick with admiration. "I’ve wanted this for so long. Every time feels like dream. Just want to worship every inch of you."  His words sent a thrill through your body, almost as if he cast a spell with them causing your legs to magically spread in silent invitation, eager for more of his touch. Trent knelt between your thighs, his eyes fixed on your core, now covered only by a thin layer of silk. "Gonna let me taste you, baby?” he asked tauntingly but his voice hoarse with need.
“Mhhhmm. Please, T.” You nodded, your breath coming in short gasps as he hooked his fingers under the elastic of your panties and slowly slid them down your legs. He took his time, his eyes never leaving your exposed heat, drinking in the sight of your glistening folds.
"So wet just for me," he murmurs, his fingers gently parting your lips, exposing your clit. You let out a soft cry as his finger brushes over your sensitive bundle of nerves, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. Trent leaned down, his breath hot against your swollen flesh, and then he replaced his finger with his mouth, his tongue flicking and lapping at your clit.
"Oh God, T, fuck," you moaned, your hands gripping the sheets as he feasted on your pussy, his tongue delving deep, tasting your essence. He moaned against you, the vibrations sending you closer to the edge. His fingers joined his tongue, sliding into your wet heat, stretching and filling you as he suckled your clit. Your body coiled tighter with each stroke, each flick of his tongue, until you were teetering on the precipice of release.
"Cum for me, baby," he urges, his voice muffled against your sex. "Let me feel you come on my tongue." His words pushed you over the edge, and you cried out, your body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure rippling through you. Trent didn’t let up though, his tongue and fingers worked in perfect harmony, drawing out your orgasm until you were left trembling and sated. He moved up your body, his lips finding yours, sharing the taste of your climax. "So good f’me, baby," he breathes, his eyes filled with adoration. "I love making you feel good. Love making you cum." You tiredly smiled, your heart full as you pull him close, feeling the deep connection between you. 
"I love cumming for you, T," you whispered, your fingers tracing the strong lines of his face. Both of you were using the orgasm as a front. Hiding behind the physical sensations to mask the very deep emotional connection developing. Neither of you really cared about that specific orgasm, no matter how good it was - you just were so clearly in love with each other and needed to say something but this wasn’t the time. It wasn’t the place. "I've never felt this way before." You sheepishly told him. He kissed you softly, his lips brushing yours in a tender caress.
 "I know, baby. I feel it too. This is just the beginning. Promise" Trent cooed. He was talking about sex tonight but he was also talking about your relationship, your feelings. As his words began to sink in, you realized this night was just the start of something much bigger. The rest of the evening was spent in every position possible. Each orgasm hacking away at your restraint. You were falling weaker and weaker to him literally and figuratively, terrified you’d let those three little words slip. But after round five and orgasm seven you said no more, clinging to Trent, exhausted and spent, your eyes fluttering closed as he held you securely rubbing his hands up and down your body gently. He hummed in agreement kissing your glistening skin. He cleaned you up but you barely remember it as you were focused on nothing else but not letting your tired mind and body mutter how truly in love with him you really were. You successfully fell to sleep with no slip ups but Trent could feel the tension. He almost wished you had said it so he could finally admit it to you but that wasn't the case. And so that night, he held you tighter to him than he ever had before as he dozed off, unable to leave any space for the words you both longed to say. He was struggling to bite back the feelings looking at you asleep in his arms, the words so desperate to come out now. You looked so different now. Different than you did on the porch and you felt different too. You felt like you were his. But it wasn't just you, it all felt different, so different. Things had changed. You two had changed and there was no turning back now.
Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!
Next part - Chapter 11 xx
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