#WORTH IT BUT JESUS CHRIST I WAS LOSING IT A BIT

[itgr]

I need everyone to know I stayed up until 4am the night before a very important (to me/hj) fashion show I was modelling for that I spent months working on just so I could get to the ROS season 2 finale because I heard there was a strawbarrow kiss AND THEN I GOT MET WITH THIS

I LITERALLY SAT THERE FOR LIKE 3 MINUTES PROCESSING THAT WHILE LOOKING LIKE THIS

No regrets but oh my GOD.

[avocado-writing]

Not sure if this is enough to go off of but I loved the poly!poolverine fic where they rescued the reader. I was wondering if we could get some more of them being protective of the reader 🙏🏻

The bar is pretty crowded tonight. You nurse a rum and coke and hope Logan and Wade are able to find you in the corner booth you managed to snag, because you know the second you go to order another some opportunistic patrons will take your spot - and you’ve been on your feet all day at work so there’s no way in hell you’ll let that happen.

You take a sip. It’s warm now, ice long since melted in the heat of the room. You grimace at the taste as someone slides onto the bench next to you. 

It is not one of your boys. 

“Hey, baby.”

He’s big. Kinda guy who goes to the gym every day big, which isn’t inherently bad - but from the way he uses his size to press up against you there’s a little bit of unease rising in your chest. He puts his elbow on the table so that he can rest his jaw in his hand, biceps flexing in the tight shirt he wears. 

“I’m waiting for someone,” you say, as calmly as you can, hoping this will deter him. It does not. 

“So? We can have a little talk, can’t we? Not hurting anybody.”

His hand goes to cover yours where it rests on the table. You snatch it back. He frowns. 

“Dunno who you’re waiting for, but they probably shouldn’t have left you here alone. Looks like they don’t care about you, honey.”

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, annoyed, deciding it’s not worth it. He won’t go so you will. You slide out the free side of the booth - but you’re forced to stop when he grabs your wrist. 

“I wasn’t done talking to you yet,” he says. Okay. Now you’re panicking. You manage to shake yourself free of his grasp and quickly push through the throng of people, hoping to lose him in the crowd. No such luck. He knows where you’re heading. 

The air is cold on the street as you speed up; not running, never running, that might incite a chase. He’s on your heels anyway. 

“Hey, are you just gonna keep ignoring me?”

“I told you I’m not interested!”

He grabs you again, harder this time. A grip you can’t break free from. 

“You know, you should learn not to be such a bitch —”

“Oh! Isn’t this fun! Sorry to interrupt this little show of misogyny in action but it’d be great if you could let go of our pookie.”

You’ve never been more relieved to hear Wade’s voice. Suddenly you’ve got someone either side of you: the brick which is Logan on your left, and the snark which is Wade on your right. 

The guy who’s holding you does not drop your arm. He frowns. 

“Who the fuck are you?”

“They’re who I was waiting for,” you say quickly, as if this will deter him. The man laughs, loudly, cruelly.

“Sorry, you’re in some kinda threesome with this old fucker and whatever this dude is? Fuck, honey, you really need someone to show you what a real man—”

He does not get a chance to finish. Logan’s fist has collided with his face with such ferocity you can hear his nose break. The man yelps and staggers backwards, you bring your hand to your chest for safety. 

“Should’ve let go, bub,” he mutters, massaging his knuckles. Wade deflates. 

“Aw, I wanted to get the first hit in!” He peers over at where the guy is laid out flat. “Go on, get back up. If I don’t throw a punch it emasculates me, and I’m very sensitive about it.”

You roll your eyes, tugging at his sleeve. 

“Let’s just go, guys. I don’t think he’s gonna follow us.”

“One sec.”

Wade strolls over and puts his boot on the guy’s chest, pushing down until he’s wheezing.

“You wanna apologise?”

The guy groans out a sorry, and you give a curt nod when Wade turns to see if you’ve accepted it.

“Don’t do this bullshit again, with anyone, or I’m gonna find you, rip your dick off, then feed it to my adorable, hideous dog.”

They cage in around you as your turn, two loyal hounds at your beck and call. You throw a couple of glances over your shoulder as you leave but it’s as you suspected: the guy remains on the cold concrete. When you’re far enough away to feel safe they slow to a stop. 

“You okay?” Logan asks, lifting your chin with a finger so that he can get a good look at you. You nod. 

“Yeah. Thanks for being there in time.”

“I’m sorry baby, we should have got here earlier, but peanut here tore a guy’s arm off so we had to go and clean up first—”

“Oh god, stop,” you say, pulling a face. You don’t want to know about their line of work, very happy for the business and personal life gulf to be a wide one. “Let’s go get some pizza and head home.”

“Anything you want,” says Logan, squeezing your hand. 

Anything where you’re between them is what you want. Safe and happy, they’ll make sure you’re both. 

[daddydixonscrossbow]

hi. this is my first time requesting and i was wondering if you could do something along the lines of reader doing something risky around walkers and how daryl would react to you almost getting bit like he shows more emotion than hes ever shown before

Reader splits off in the tunnels with Daryl on their way to Meridian.

- Claustrophobia warning -

“Daryl.” You whisper loudly to catch his attention. He whistles at Dog before walking over to you, “Find somethin’?”

You nod, shining your flashlight into the opening, “I can get it, I just need you to hold my ankles.” He scoffs at your words, “C’mon, leave it. Probably ain’t worth anythin’ anyway.”

You were stubborn.

You took off your backpack, “Fine. Go. I’ll catch up.”

He stands there debating for a few seconds before letting out a sigh, “Jesus Christ.” He walks over, “Y’better make it quick.”

“I’ll do my best.” You smirk up at him, getting down on your knees. He gets down behind you, hands laying on your calves. You hold your flashlight between your teeth and lean into the small space, and his grip tightens, “See it?”

“Mhm.” You mumble as loud as you can. You stretch more, reaching out as far as you can. There wasn’t anymore than an inch on either side of your shoulders, your knees were at the edge of a drop off.

You take a deep breath, sighing as you slowly bend your arm up and head down, removing the flashlight from your mouth, “I need t’go a little further.”

“I don’know how much more I can get ya.” He replies, his fingers digging into your calves, “Jus’forget it, a’right. We gotta move.”

You slowly bring your arm up, turning your body as you press your back against the wall. You use that as leverage to your best ability.

As you’re swatting at the box, trying to get it closer, a walker comes out of no where, grabbing onto your arm.

You let out a scream, dropping your flashlight. Your body blocks any light of Daryl’s light resting on the ground, which leaves you in total darkness.

You try and rip your arm away, but the dead wouldn’t let go, “Daryl! Daryl!” He attempts to pull you back in, swearing up and down as he presses his boot against the wall and leans in, “C’mon, c’mon. I got ya. Fuck.”

He loses his grip on your belt, huffing as he searches in the darkness for another gripping point. Your hand slips from the wall and you gasp, “No, no.” You were frantic, “Get- fuck! Get off of me!” You scream, “Fuck! Daryl!”

“Hold on, I’m tryin’!” He finally gets a grip of you, pulling you back towards him.

You fall into his body, your hand frantically trying to pull up your sleeve. Daryl grabs your wrist, his hand also working to push up your sleeve.

No bite.

You let out a sigh, along with Daryl and he pulls you in, kissing your lips a few times before pulling you into a hug, his arms wrapping as tight as they can go, “Don’t be doin’ no dumb shit like that again, ya hear me?” He takes a deep breath, hand sliding to hold the back of your head, “Fuck. I could’a lost ya.” He presses his lips to your forehead, “Had me worried like hell.”

“M’sorry.” You sniffle, “I-I thought-“

“Hey.” Daryl leans back, sliding his hands to lift your face towards him, “It’s a’right. This time. Happens again, m’gonna be pissed at’cha.”

You sniffle, nodding as he uses his thumbs to wipe away the stay tears. He wraps his arms around you, “Whatever that was, wasn’t worth the risk’a losin’ you.”

You hold onto him tighter, “Won’t happen again.”

“Ya promise?” He looks tilts his head down and you nod, “Yes, I promise.”

The growling of the walker grows closer. You feel something grabbing at your boot and dog starts barking. You step back as Daryl draws his knife, bending down to plunge it into the walkers head.

He pulls it out, kicking it backwards before turning to you. He bends down, picking up your bag and handing it to you, “Y’gonna have t’stick w’me since ya lost yer’only flashlight.”

“I have another one.” You pull it from the side pocket of your pack and turn it on, “See.”

He shakes his head, walking over to give you one last hug, “Still want’cha w’me. A’right?” You nod with your cheek pressed against his chest, you can’t help but laugh, “Is this your way of telling me that you like me?”

You hear him chuckle and he sighs, “Somethin’ like that.” He kisses your head, “yer’a pain in my ass, but I love you.”

That was the first time he’s ever said that to you.

You look up at him and he shakes his head, “Nah, don’be givin’ me that look. Not one word, we gotta move.” He motions as he grabs his bow and you smirk, “fine, how about four?” You take his hand, “I love you, too.”

He gives your hand a squeeze as you start walking, “Yeah, those four are a’right.” He glances over at you with a smirk. Both of hour heads snap down the tunnel as gunshots echo through it.

“C’mon.” Daryl whistles for Dog as he drops your hand, and all three of you take off running.

Here’s a kiss for likin’ and rebloggin’💋

[justhereforsubsevika]

Can you make a uninterested!reader x persistent sevika? Or uninterested!sevika x playful/persistent!reader! [ i saw your post about the lack of asks for sevii<33

Fluff, maybe a bit nsfw

Sevika is just silly ok. Coworkers au, sevis in a lower position than you

"Hi, hi hello." Sevika ambushed you again, third morning in a row. When you entered the building at 7am sharp you heard the heavy thuds of Sevika's dress shoes, the butch sprinting to be the first person to talk to you. She smiled and fumbled with something in her pocket, making you sigh impatiently and drum at your briefcase. "Look, look." She pulled out your favourite flower from her blazer, like a shit magician, and shoved it into your chest. "You liiiike it?" She asked, swaying on her feet and smiling expectantly.

"Sevika, very kind. I'm not going to go out with you. We've spoken about this- there's a pre existing power dynamic here. Its unprofessional." You spoke sternly, giving her the speech you were forced to rehearse at 6.45 everyday in your car. "I didn't say that, I asked if you like the flower." She mumbles, her hand fiddling with the carabiner on her belt loop.

"I like it. Thank you Sevika." You lift her hand to your lips and bow your head slightly, making her jaw go slack. "Shut your mouth, you'll catch flies." You quip as you go to your office. You can feel Sevika's eyes burning holes into your ass as you walk.

*

Lunch time and theyre all out of pastries. Damnit. You complain to a peer and go back to your desk. Half an hour later and Sevika uses her butt to push the door in, her arm occupied with cradling a huge brown bag. "What now.." you groan, leaning over your desk and sitting your chin on the back of your tented hands. "No pastries, sooooo.." she tips up the bag and neatly packaged pastries topple out. There had to be at least 20 on your desk, every one different. She must've gone into a pastry shop and said "yes."

You tut and shake your head, chuckling when Sevika starts arranging them by size. "Sevika, too much.." you giggle, hand reaching out to grab your favourite. "Ah you like that one. Okay. Ill just bring that one next time."

You smile at her and nod to your door, but she stays put, hand smushed against her cheek as she watches you take little, modest bites. "Why do you eat like that?" She asks plainly, eyes fixed on your lips. "Like what?"

"Your bites are tiny. You eat like a squirrel or something." She grabs a croissant and starts mimicking you. You cant help but laugh, making her beam, her teeth ridden with bits of pastry. "Get out of my office!" You squeal, and she leaves with a laugh.

*

10pm. Fuck. You stayed way past your leaving time. You were fucking exhausted, your legs turned to jelly. Wearing heels from 6am until 10pm wasn't for the weak, and, in this moment, you were the weak.

You struggled to the end of the corridor, about to press the button for the elevator when Sevika's unmistakable fingers pressed it for you. Those thick fingers. You looked up at her and scowled. "Why are you still here?" You questioned, grabbing her forearm for a bit of balance. "I was waiting for-"

"Sevika, i cant make myself more clear. Do I think you're attractive? Yes. Would i hop on that in any other situation? Yes. But I could lose my job, or at least be demoted, if I got into it with a subordinate."

She was stunned for a second but then leaned into your body. "Love it when you talk dirty." She murmured sarcastically. She lurched forward, your hand slipping from her forearm to her bicep. You squeezed and...jesus christ. Maybe she was worth endangering your job.

"You think im attractive?" She whispered against your neck, your breathing picking up as you searched for cameras. You seemed to be in a blindspot, but your nerves were far from steadied. The elevator dinged and you pulled her into it. You looked up at her. Rested on the railing. She stood between your legs, your thighs forced apart by the sheer size of her quads. She looked at you heavy lidded, taking your breifcase from you and setting it down. She grabbed your hand and swiped her thumb across the back of it, making it seem like she knew everything going on in your mind. It was a deep understanding. An understanding you felt even more as she leant down to peck your forehead.

She carried you to your car and put your bag in the boot, waving you off as you drove away. You told yourself it was just late, that it was a moment of weakness, a fluke. Deep down you knew it:

you liked her.

These are so short what the gleep guys

[bedheaded-league]

I just binged all of Fawx & Stallion in like 2 days and it has an absolute chokehold on my brain so now I need to talk about all of the things I fucking loved about it because I'm super super duper normal about this show. Major spoilers ahead.

Like everyone else, I've replayed the "very sincerely yours" scene like 5 times already and it just doesn't get any less devastating/beautiful/cathartic. This is THE best post-Reichenbach reunion scene I have EVER seen in a Holmes adaptation, HANDS DOWN. Obviously the Reichenbach story is one of the most popular bits of the Holmes canon to retell, because it's just so crazy and ripe for raw emotion. But frequently I feel like the reunion scenes are either infuriating and completely emotionally unsatisfying (I'm looking at you, BBC) or beautiful and tender but still leaving us with the feeling that we're not getting the whole story (like with canon and Granada). This was beautiful, tender, harsh, painful, devastating, honest, and SO FUCKING SATISFYING. Jesus christ, I feel like this is the emotional catharsis Holmes fans have been waiting for since 1893.

I don't think I've ever heard an actor put SO MUCH into a single word as that fucking "Yours." Is it possible to tell someone that they're the love of your life and nothing in the world matters more to you than being with them in just one single syllable? Apparently! Because Rob Kauzlaric fucking did it! What the fuck!

I've never really had an answer for who my favorite Watson was before (I love Burke and Hardwicke, but I just have this very specific idea of Watson in my head that no actor has ever matched) but now I know who it is and it's Tom fucking Crowley. Fucking flawless performance. This Watson struck the perfect balance between being the kindest person you'll ever meet and also being sort of a bitch! He's long-suffering, he's funny, he's a chaotic bisexual who's a bit of a slut but has also been pining after the same man for ten years, he's The Guy Of All Time. His characterization was perfect and Tom Crowley gave him a perfect voice.

And GOD this interpretation of Holmes is so good. He's silly and endlessly annoying. He's a burnt out former gifted kid who's tied his entire self-worth to this cool thing he can do and how much he can impress everybody and so if he ever stops for one second he'll lose everyone he cares about. What a perfect character arc for him. He's desperately in love with someone who he thinks will never love him back because he can't imagine a reason for anyone to love him that isn't about the service he can provide to others. Out of all the characters, he has some of the most heartwrenching line deliveries. "It's too late." "Because he wrote about it." "No, no, I'll GET IT." "Very sincerely yours." FUCK

Listening to Filched Fork over again is so heartbreaking. Watson not mentioning the fork because he thinks it's just much less interesting compared to all of the dazzling things that Holmes does and also because he wants to keep the sweetest parts of Holmes to himself because those are private, but Holmes thinking that it means that the moment wasn't important *to him.* Watson literally begging Holmes how to do it (the writing, their relationship) correctly, desperately trying to reach out to the man he loves so that they can understand each other, and Holmes immediately closing himself off instead. Meanwhile we can see the hints of his impending burnout already happening here, which of course ties into his panic about Watson moving on without him if he can't be amazing all the time.

The way I absolutely screamed when I heard the thunk of the fork dropping on the table out of Fitzy's pocket. I mean I already figured out that it was Holmes (I feel like there were enough hints that we were meant to figure it out) but the reveal was SO GOOD.

Not only adapting the "This article is shit" "Oh really? I wrote it." scene but having HOLMES' LOVE CONFESSION DIRECTLY REFERENCE BACK TO IT??? THE MOMENT THEY FIRST BECAME FRIENDS???? TEN YEARS LATER??? AFTER SPENDING TEN YEARS KEEPING UP THE SAME INSIDE JOKE THAT ORIGINATED FROM THAT ONE CONVERSATION??? BECAUSE THAT DUMB JOKE WAS THE FIRST TIME HOLMES MADE WATSON LAUGH??? AND WATSON HADN'T LAUGHED IN MONTHS BECAUSE HE WAS TOO DEPRESSED FROM THE WAR??? I'M EATING THE WALLS

Holmes' nervous ADHD rambling my beloved

Holmes: "Hi, I'm Sherlock Holmes." James: "Nope."

James' monologue during the improv scene was so tender and heartbreaking and beautiful. It works so perfectly for James and Archie but also so perfectly for Holmes and Watson? God the fucking CHARACTER FOILS, FUCK.

Just in general the concept of the 224 gang being a foil to the 221 boys both in that Fawx/Stallion are bad at crime solving and Holmes/Watson are good at it AND that Holmes and Watson are in a fucked up situationship for a decade because they can't communicate but meanwhile James and Archie are in a healthy relationship because they actually talk about their feelings.

"Do you know how frustrating it is to love someone who doesn’t love themselves the way you love them? It’s like being told you're an idiot for breathing air." FUCK

James and Archie confronting the same problem that Holmes and Watson did, and in the end they didn't actually figure out the solution, but they love each other and they're in it together and that's all that matters.

Watson reading the book quotes while Holmes realizes that Watson's in love with him I'M SO NORMAL ABOUT THIS

"Well, the person saying that might have been biased." "Oh, is that what we're calling it now?" Archie passive aggressive queen

"Because he wrote about it" AAUUGGGHHH

Archie's impassioned speech about the difference between cooking and baking is so valid

"I really want to get rescued right now!" "YES CHEEEEFFF!!!" can you hear that sound in the background that's me losing my fucking mind

Holmes: Your relationship is doomed and love isn't real. James: Actually I think you're just stupid.

Archie saw Holmes stand there frozen solid making the shocked pikachu face as he realizes that the man he's been in love with for 10 years has loved him back the whole time and then Archie immediately came up with an elaborate lie to manipulate this dramatic gay dumbass into actually going and talking to the man in question. What an icon.

Please tell me we're gonna get more Iphy in the next season because I'm in love with her and she's my wife now

[eviemonroeer]

The Monroe Effect: Chapter 11

Set during Season 5, Episodes 14 & 15 of ER. Spoilers if you haven't seen the show.

Warnings: THIS CHAPTER IS 18+ ONLY!! MDNI. Smut (p in v, unprotected) This is my first time writing smut so please be kind. Angst and Language.

WC: 3.8 k

ER story belongs to original creators, just adding on my own original charter.

Taglist: @pleasecallmeunhinged, @rainmg, @arigoldsblog, @queenslandlover-93, @hagarsays, and @antisocialfiore

Main Story: prev | next

Snapshots: prev | next

Again, MDNI. 18+ ONLY for this Chapter.

“I paged Dale. He and Lucy are on their way for the surgical consult for that case in trauma.” I passed the chart to Carter as we walked out of the exam room and into the elevator foyer. The aforementioned two had come down the stairs right on time. 

“What have you got?” Dale asked as Carter and I walked up. 

“Fender bender. Tender abdomen.” Carter explained, handing him the chart. 

“Have you seen Titanic, Carter?”

“Nope. Chick flick.”  

“That's what I said. Lucy rented it, wants me to watch it with her.” 

“Leonardo DiCaprio, hoop skirts and tragic love is my idea of hell.” 

I scoffed and shook my head. “Says the man who watched 'While You Were Sleeping' and ‘Pretty Woman’ with me.” 

“That’s different.” Dale said, actually defending Carter. 

“Why? Because she plays a sex worker?” 

“Whatever happened to the sensitive 90s male?” Lucy asked me. “The ones who love romantic candlelight dinners. 

“They're all gay, aren't they, Carter?” Dale offered. 

“Jesus Christ.” I muttered. 

“I don't want to ruin it, Dale, but in the end, the ship sinks.” Carter “spoiled”. 

“I hate you both.” Lucy said before we both pushed into the trauma room, leaving the boys behind. 

 

“She was hit in the face while kickboxing.” The paramedic told us. Carter, Lucy, and I’s newest patient was a young woman in from an exercise class. Aside from a cut over the eye, she seemed relatively unharmed.

“Not kickboxing. Tae-bo class.” The patient corrected. “It’s like aerobics, but only better.” 

“Yeah, I heard about that.” I said. “It’s supposed to be good for losing weight.”

“Yeah, I lost 16 pounds.” 

“Sixteen pounds!” Lucy exclaimed. “Wow.”

“I had everybody in the class spread out enough.” The instructor added. “But this new guy shows up and she got kicked.” Carter and the paramedics transferred her to the bed. 

“Did you lose consciousness?” Carter asked. 

“No, but I was pretty dizzy.” 

“How long did it take you to lose the weight?” Lucy probed. 

“Just melted off. Hope this won’t keep me from getting back to class.” 

“Fundus is sharp.” Carter said, checking her eyes. “No papilledema. Want to palpate the orbit?” 

“No that’s okay.” Lucy brushed off. “Is it expensive?” 

“Not too bad. It’s worth it.” 

“You feel this.” Carter poked at her cheek bone. 

“Mm, yes.” 

“Any numbness.”

“No.” 

“Do you have early classes?” Lucy turned to the instructor. “I usually have to be here by 7.” 

“Any visual changes?” Carter asked, his tone becoming annoyed. “Shapes, things out of focus?” 

“I teach a 5:30 class. If you buy 20, you get five free.”

“No kidding? 

“Anyone know where a phone is?” 

“Yeah, there’s a pay phone right over there.” I told him, gesturing behind me. 

“No step off.” Carter continued his exam. “I’m concerned about your blurred vision. So, let’s get some facial films and a visual acuity. Lucy, if you think you can tear yourself away from fitness bargain hunting for five minutes, stitch her up.” 

“Your wish is my command, Dr. Carter.” 

“Irrigate and suture.” Carter moved to sit beside the bed as Lucy moved to begin, continuing to talk with the women. 

“I don’t usually get a lunch break, so I end up eating out of the vending machines and it’s hard to keep the pounds off. First lidocaine to numb the area. And then you’ll feel a little bit of wetness as I irrigate the wound.” I put my stethoscope on and began checks. “Dr. Carter.” I looked up when Lucy tried to get his attention and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. 

He had been looking at her ass. Carter was totally checking Lucy out. 

“Yeah?” 

“Uh, the cut’s pretty deep. Should I do a few subcutaneous first?” 

“Yeah, absolutely.” Lucy turned back to me, and I had to force myself not to make a face. “Well, I’ll check back with you in a little bit.” He stood and awkwardly left. 

Lucy turned back to me. “Was he staring at my ass?”

"Oh yeah." I scoffed and rolled my eyes before getting back to work. 

 

When I left Lucy is when I heard about Doug Ross and the little boy with ALD. It was crazy to think he could have done that if what they were saying was true. It just put a whole cloud over the entire ER. And it was noticeable. “I think I just beat it in, the roads are getting really slick.” Jeanie informed us as she walked in through the bay doors, covered in snow. “Took me forever to navigate the Kennedy. Traffic was backed up...... for miles. What’s the matter, somebody die? Somebody we know?” 

“Dr. Ross lost that ALD kid.” Malik told her. 

“The police are in trauma two.” I added. 

"The boy’s father accused Doug of giving him an overdose. Called the cops.” Chuny finished. 

“Oh my god.” 

“Yeah. Coroners took the body.” This time it was Jerry. “Police are interviewing everybody.

“Where’s Doug?” 

“In the pedes room, I think.” Lydia offered. 

“Chuny, have you seen the, uh, labs on that drunk with the head lac?” Carter asked, oblivious to our topic of conversation as he walked up.

“No, but he managed to throw up on me again.” She replied. “Third scrub’s up today.” 

 “Yeah, we should wire a bucket to his head.” Malik suggested. “Like one of those feedbags for horses.” 

“Yeah right.” Carter scoffed. “Hey, any, uh, word on Doug Ross?” He asked me. “Police are still interviewing Dr. Greene.” I told him and resumed my computer check for some patient labs.

“Have you seen Lucy?” Jerry asked him. “Dr. Edson keeps coming down here looking for her.” 

“Yeah, last time I saw her she was working on the...” He turned to the curtain area. “Hey, where’s my, uh, kick boxer?” 

“Dr. Weaver moved her into exam two when that rule-out MI came in.” I told him. “Lucy was still working on her about ten minutes ago.” 

“Suturing?”

“Yep.” 

 “Well, that should’ve taken like, two minutes.” 

“I haven’t seen her come out.” 

Carter walked over to the exam room, but as soon as he went in, he literally flew back out, breaking the glass on the door and falling over a patient in a wheelchair in the process. “Oh my god!” I exclaimed as he landed hard on his back. I ran over as Lucy kneeled beside him, calling for a backboard and a collar. I made it over with the collar, putting it on him, while Malik brought the backboard. 

“What happened?” Malik asked. 

“I kicked him in the chest.” 

“Why?” Lydia asked, her eyes wide. 

“I was practicing my Tae-bo. Now we’re going to roll him...” We got the backboard underneath him and lifted him up, taking him into the room to be looked over. 

I stuck the X-ray in place in the films room and took a second to look at it. I scoffed and turned back to Carter. “You’re lucky. Doesn’t look like she broke anything. Maybe a small fracture, but nothing crazy.” I paused. “Though it was kind of fun to watch her kick your ass.” I sat back down in front of him. 

“Uh, I feel like an elephant sat on my chest.” Carter groaned and rubbed his chest. 

“Well, it serves you right. Especially after you checked her out.” 

Carter scoffed. “I did not check her out.” 

“I hate to break it to you Carter, but you definitely checked out your med student. Played right into the cliché.”

Carter stuttered, trying to find an excuse. But finally, he huffed and relented like he normally did with me. “I didn’t mean to. It’s just something Dale said—” 

“Dale? Smarmy, egomaniac Dale?” I scoffed. “Why would you ever listen to anything that asshole says?” 

“I don’t know.” 

I shook my head and got closer, starting to gently clean the small cut on his forehead, knowing he was a baby with this kind of stuff. I shifted and felt his knee in between my legs, throwing me off balance a little. I rested a hand on his chest to stabilize myself. “I don’t blame you. Lucy’s smart, she’s very pretty. I mean you clearly have a type.” 

“I don’t have a type.” 

I scoffed again. “Oh please. I hate to break it to you Carter, but you want to hump any blonde that will give you attention.” 

“I do not.” 

I stopped what I was doing and looked at him, an eyebrow raised. “Oh really? Care to hear my proof?” 

“Go ahead.” 

I smirked and held up my hand, counting on my fingers as I listed names. “Roxanne? Anna?” Carter scoffed. “Harper? Dr. Keaton?”

“Okay, you’ve made your point.” 

“Face it Carter. You and blondes are like peanut butter and jelly.” I picked up another gauze and dabbed his face. 

“I don’t like just blondes.” He muttered and I could have sworn I saw his eyes roam my close figure. I stopped dabbing and met his gaze, feeling a familiar heat blooming in my chest. 

“What did you say?” 

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing before he licked his lips. “I said, I don’t like just blondes.” 

Carter brought his hand up to my face and pulled me in, but I stopped, pressing on his chest. He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “Carter, please don’t start something if you’re not going to follow through with it.” My voice was small. “I care about you too much.”

“I care about you to. I have for a long time.” He brushed a piece of hair behind my ear. “Ever since you told me your name that first day at the admit desk.” My eyes went wide for a moment, surprised he actually remembered that. 

Carter used it to his advantage and pulled me in for a kiss. 

At first, the kiss was gentle, just two people exploring each other in this way for the first time. But years of pent-up feelings and emotion ramped things up very quickly. Carter moved his hands, grabbing my hips and dragging me onto his lap. I straddled him, moving my arms around his neck. Our lips moved together like a choregraphed dance. I felt his tongue slip into my mouth and a little moan left me. He smiled into the kiss, liking how I was reacting. I did too.

He took this as the go to move his kisses down to my neck and when he gave me a light bite, I ground my hips into him. He responded this time with a deep groan, which sent a spark straight to my lower half. I ran a hand through his hair and grabbed on. I ground into him again and this time he responded by bucking his hips up. I could feel the zipper of his pants through my scrubs, and it was my turn to moan.  

“Did you like that?” He asked, his voice rough. I nodded my head, and he repeated the motion. I was embarrassed at the whine that left my body. I felt Carter smile against my neck. He moved his hand from my waist and moved it under my shirt and scrub top, before cupping my breast. He looked at me for a moment when he realized I wasn’t wearing a bra. “Well, this is a surprise.” He muttered. He took my nipple in between his fingers as he moved back in to continue kissing my neck. 

“Make that sound again.” He instructed. 

I shook my head. “Someone will hear.” 

“Make that noise again or I’ll make sure everyone hears.” He pinched my nipple harder, and the whine escaped me again involuntarily. “Good girl.” He rasped. 

That did it. My hips ground down again, this time harder into his lap. I wasn’t going to let him take control of everything. I grabbed his hair again and pulled him back, moving down to his neck. I gave him a few kisses before I sucked down on his neck and gave him a bite. This time it was his hips that bucked involuntarily, and I smiled.  Carter put a hand around my neck and moved me back up, so we were face to face. 

“That wasn’t very nice.” 

“I never said I was nice Dr. Carter.”

He groaned again and lightly squeezed on my neck. “Take off your pants. Now.” 

A little too excited, I stood and walked over to the doors, locking each quickly before going back to Carter. I slowly peeled off my scrub pants, showing off the thong I was now grateful I had worn today. “Oh fuck.” Carter whispered, running his hands through his hair. I smirked. Walking back over to him, I bent down and popped the button of his pants, pulling the zipper down. 

Without breaking eye contact, Carter helped me slide his pants and boxers down his legs until they pooled on the ground. My eyes went wide for a moment. While Carter’s length wasn’t bigger than anything I’d taken before, he was girthier. I felt myself clench at the thought of how good of a stretch he was going to be. I met Carter’s gaze once more and straddled him again. 

Taking him in my hand, I gave him a couple of slow strokes. I hovered over him and pulled my thong to the side before I lined him up and slowly began to sink down. I gasped as I slowly stretched around him, the lack of foreplay noticeable, but not a deal breaker; I was still wet. Carter grabbed my hips, his fingers wrapping in the sides of my lacy thong. 

“God, you are so beautiful.” Carter moaned. 

I continued to lower myself, taking my time. Whenever I stopped for a moment to collect myself, I would kiss him, before sinking down again, repeating the pattern until I was fully flushed against his lap. “Oh my god.” I moaned. Carter took my face in his hands again and he kissed me hard. This encouraged me to move. 

The feeling was insane. I had never felt so full in my life. We kept a steady pace, a delicious push and pull of pleasure. But it soon became frantic. I think we both heard the growing number of voices outside and knew our privacy was about to end. I tried keeping my focus but was growing frustrated. I whined again. “What wrong, pretty girl? You need help?” I nodded and Carter put his hand in between us, his thumb finding my clit. He applied the slightest pressure and I gasped. “There we go.” 

Carter continued his steady pace, both with his hips and his hand. The pressure inside me began to ramp up and I chased it with everything I had, forcing my brain to focus on nothing but that. Finally, the pressure snapped low in my belly, and I buried my face into Carter’s shoulder, dampening my cry. He wasn’t too far behind me, and he grunted into my chest as he came. 

We both stayed like this for a moment, panting as we came down from the high. Once my head was a little clearer, I laughed, which caused Carter to raise an eyebrow. “You know when a girl laughs while you’re inside her, it’s not typically a good thing.” 

I scoffed. “No.....it’s just...... I should have known you would be someone who liked being a little more dominating during sex.”

“You liked it. You know you did.” 

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. Carter’s beeper went off and we both looked down at his pants on the floor. That’s when reality came back in. “Oh my god.” I groaned and laid my head on his shoulder. “We just had sex in the films room.”

I sat back up and slowly pulled off of Carter. The sudden emptiness was jarring, but I needed to get back to my patients. I grabbed a new gauze and cleaned myself up the best I could before I offered one to Carter. He took it and did the same with himself.

“Are you okay?” He asked as he tucked himself back in his pants before zipping and buttoning up. 

“Yeah.” I breathed out. “That was just......very unexcepted. We literally just had sex at work.” I paused for a moment to collect myself, feeling Carter’s eyes on me. “We both need to get back out there, or someone is going to come looking for us. They paged you, so you go out first and I’ll clean up.” 

“Okay.” Carter mumbled. 

I continued cleaning up the room, not saying anything else. Eventually I heard the door open as he left. Once it was closed, I let out a sigh and sat down, putting a hand on my mouth. 

What the hell did I just do? 

“I’ll be right back.” I told my patient and opened up the curtain to go grab the needed medication. I got into the drug lock up and began searching, when I felt a presence behind me, blocking me in where I was. 

“You bit me. Hard.” 

I swallowed. “Well, you didn’t want the whole emergency room to hear me, now did you?” Carter moaned behind me and moved my hair, kissing the back of my neck. “I have patients.” Another kiss. “And so do you.” I felt his hands grip my hips. “Carter......”

“Hey Evie— oh!” Carter and I quickly turned to see Chuny standing in the doorway. She had a knowing smirk on her face, like the Cheshire cat. Carter cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair as he tried to create space between us. “Never mind.” 

Chuny turned and walked back down the hall. I sighed and turned to Carter. “We can talk about this later, okay?” And with that I grabbed the medication and headed back to my patient, knowing full well the avalanche of hospital gossip that was about to hit us. 

I stuck my current patient’s orders in the holder and sighed. Didn’t a storm coming, mean people should stay home? I shook my head and sat in the open seat at admit, thankful for the moment of peace to get off my feet. 

“The 92-year-old dislocated ankle in exam one has been reduced.” I heard Carter say behind me. I turned as he passed by the window and around to the desk. “Lydia, give her a Vicodin and tell her to stay off her skates.” 

“92 years old and she still skates?” Kerry asked. She looked up and pointed at Carter’s neck. “You got something on your neck.”

“Looks like somebody bit you.” Lydia added, examining the bite. 

“Uh, yeah.” Carter stepped back. “I think I might have hit something when I fell down.” He walked around to my left side and bent down. “Told you, you bit me.” He said in a low, hushed tone. 

I turned and finally got to see the thing. It was pretty nasty. “Sorry.” I mumbled and went to check the board, passing Malik. 

“Now that’s what I’m talking about.” I heard him admire. It took everything not to turn back around, knowing he was checking me out. 

“Hey, Carter,” Jerry started. “Roxanne called. Twice.” 

That’s when I felt my heart constrict. What the hell was I thinking? I had sex with Carter at work, and he had a girlfriend. I quickly grabbed a chart and headed back to curtains, praying I wouldn’t have to see him for the rest of my shift. 

That hope was quickly dashed as word of a mass causality event occurred. I began running around, assisting in stocking every station and trauma room. The victims were all kids, so it was definitely going to be a hard one. I threw on a trauma gown, gloves, and eyewear before making my way out to the ambulance bay. As the first ambulance pulled up, Chuny came over and bumped my shoulder, giving me another one of those smiles. I just chose to ignore it and focus on what was in front of us. 

I got stuck with the third ambulance, a young girl with blunt force trauma to the chest, with Lucy, Chuny, and Carter. As we wheeled her into Exam Two, the sound of the girl next door screaming filled the air as we worked. Lucy and Carter found that the girl had a ruptured diaphragm and her intestines had shifted. We got her stabilized, thankfully, and rushed up to surgery. 

Once she was out, I floated around on a couple of more minor cases until a hypothermic kid came in. We took him into an exam room, and he was throwing multiple PVCs. We started warming him before Kerry Weaver joined us. That was until she got the word that Doug and Jeanie had been in an accident. She went out to meet them, but I had to find her soon after when the kid started tanking. Carter realized he had conductive loss and we had to get him out of his wet clothes. He to eventually stabilized and the ER began to slow down as we pushed towards the morning. As the night shift ended, I was grateful to finally be able to grab my stuff and head out. I needed a hot shower and sleep. 

But I guess the night wasn’t finished with me yet. 

“Evie!” I sighed and kept walking out of the ambulance bay doors, grabbing hold of the strap of my bag. “Evie!” I heard him huff behind me. I still didn’t turn. “Evie!” This time, I felt a hand grab my arm and spin me around. “Would you please stop and talk to me?” 

“I don’t have anything to say to you Carter.” 

“Please Evie—” 

“I don’t want to hear it.” 

“Please listen. I like you. A lot. You’re the only person who drives me crazy like you do. And I like it. You make me a better person and a better doctor for it. We need to talk about what happened.” 

“No, we don’t.” I turned and started walking again.

“Evie wait!” 

“No, Carter!” I exclaimed, turning to face him. “What happened in there......” My voice broke and I swallowed. “It was great. I can’t deny that. And honestly, things have probably been building to it. But it still shouldn’t have happened. I mean, you’re with Roxanne, right?”  

“Evie—” 

“Are you still with Roxanne?” 

Carter sighed. “Yes.” 

I closed my eyes as the sting of his words settled on me. I took a deep breath and looked back at him. “No matter how much we both liked what happened today, you just made me the one thing I never wanted to be: the other woman. My mom was devastated when my dad cheated and left. I promised I would never do that to somebody else, but here I am. So no, Carter, I don’t have anything else to talk to you about. Go home and call your girlfriend.” 

I grabbed hold of my bag again and left the ambulance bay; Carter didn’t try to stop me this time. I don’t know if that made me feel better or worse. I was mostly just thankful that I made it all the way onto the train before I started crying. 

[sugar-omi]

I THINK I FINALLY GOT IT TO WORK.... jfc anywayz this is nasty n i love it. so fellow monster freaks, this is for you my loves!!!! &lt;333

DAY FOUR — MONSTER FUCKING

*kinktober masterlist | *ao3

tags : NSFW, fem/afab reader, dub-con just bc y'all are so outta it, (mentioned/implied) dom/sub space, mermaid!cove x human!reader, soft to mean dom cove, biting, scratching, stomach bulging, knotting ment, ignore the kinda scary mer pregnancy bit okay

synopsis : cove finally lets you spend his heat with him, and your mermaid boyfriend is so much different than you had thought...

maybe you should have listened to cove when he said humans couldn't handle a mermaids heat. at least not without fighting for their life.

mermaids are naturally rough during their heats, biting and fighting for dominance over the other.. not to mention the sheer size of them.

cove is bigger than the average merman, "standing" at 12 feet tall.

which is something you should have factored in along with the sharp teeth and claws. because now, you're in a isolated underwater cove, with a horny, giant mermaid who is currently rearranging your guts.

"cove-!" you cry, pushing against his chest. it's fruitless, and you're just asking for more assertiveness, more pain

"stay still." cove growls, his sharp eyes striking through you, urging you to stay still and take it. you whine, your eyes rolling back. you know cove is trying to be gentle, but his mind is clouded.

"i-i can't take more!" you whimper. even though he's proportional for a merman of his size, it's too much for you. you couldn't possibly take all of his dick. "it won't fit-" you drawl, the words straining through gritted teeth.

cove kisses your cheek, licking your tears. "it's okay, it's okay..." he comforts, panting from the effort to control himself. "you can take it... i've prepared you for this.."

you whine when he moves again, the prominent ridges on the underside of his dick stretching you open.

he really did try to prepare you, gifting you a toy roughly the size of his dick and some smaller ones to work up to his size. cove even ate you out beforehand, his fingers slowly stretching you open and making sure you would come out as unscathed as possible.

cove kisses you, swallowing your whines and moans and trading it for his long tapered tongue.

you kiss back, letting cove consume your senses and take away all your burdens.

bitten, bruised, and sore, it's so worth it. to be connected with cove on this level.. it's maddening.

"are.. you okay?" cove pants into your ear, his fingers flexing around your waist as he tries to keep restraint.

you swallow, drool pooling in your mouth. "yes, yes, please move…"

cove fixes his grip on your body to move you the way he wants, his hands are so big they easily wrap around your waist and the heat coming from cove makes you feel like you're burning…

"ah-!" you drape yourself over cove. wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. he's moving your body so easily..

you know you're much smaller than cove, so his strength shouldn't be a surprise. but the way he's moving your body up and down on his cock like you're his personal cock sleeve drives you crazy.

"covee~" you drawl, your eyes rolling back. fuck you're losing your mind.

every part of your body and mind is consumed with pleasure, any thoughts you have melt and reform to think about nothing but cove and his dick.

cove's nails dig into your skin, pearls of blood coming to the surface and washing away with the movements of your hips.

the scratches should hurt, cove's claws aren't for decoration afterall, but it seems that medicine cove gave you helps with the pain you are sure to endure during his heat.

cove groans, "fuck.. you're so tight…"

you pang, blinking away your fucked out haze. "you're… you're just too- ohh fuck- too big!"

cove's laugh is cut off by your twitching cunt tightening around him, "jesus christ, y/n… stop tightening up.." cove growls.

you whine, dragging your nails down cove's scaled shoulders. "i'm-i'm trying.." you whine, "it feels so good."

cove drags his teeth over the exposed column of your throat. his lips trail down to your shoulder, and with much care that most mermaids wouldn't afford, he bites down hard enough to leave evidence of his teeth, and he runs his tongue over it soothingly.

you huff, squirming in cove's hold. "please, please cove! faster!"

cove peeks at you, stopping his assault on your neck and collarbone. "...can you handle it?"

you huff irritably, rolling your eyes. "i'm taking your dick right now aren't i? i'm not going to break."

cove glares, "it took you a week to get up to the toy that was only 2nd to my true size, you shook and cried that you couldn't take it."

his voice is booming, and maybe it should scare you, but something about cove reminding you how you pathetically ran to him to help you with the toy… it turns you on.

"you've trained your pathetic human cunt to take my dick and you still cried that it wouldn't fit." cove stares down at you, his height and gaze making you still and a fire is burning in your stomach.

"if i give you more than you can take, you'll break. aren't you worried about me hurting you?" cove inquires and his gaze is a mix of intrigue and confusion at your eager negative shake of your head.

"as if, you can't hurt a fly." you're testing him, he's already holding back for you and yet you can't help but want to push him over the edge…

cove growls, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest and his gills flare.

he doesn't say anything else, you've said enough after all and if it's more you want, it's more you get.

cove hugs you, one arm around your back and the other under your butt, and uses the power of his lower body to thrust up into you.

you yell, your nails scratching down his scales and to his back, surely scratching off skin if cove's hiss is anything to go by.

with the change of pace, the last couple inches of cove's dick forces itself into you. you can't even catch your breath since with every rearing of his hips, the knot at the base of his dick pop in-and-out of you.

"cove!" you slap his shoulder, shaking at the stimulation.

cove nips at your shoulder and chest, leaving small marks where he pleases. "you wanted more. don't blame me if you end up becoming my pathetic cock sleeve."

you whine, drool slipping past the corner of your lips.

he's really fucking you dumb, leaving you no choice but to think about nothing but his dick.

his fat tip keeps bumping against your cervix, hitting that lovely spot between your womb and your gummy walls.

"ah! ohh fuck!" you cry, cove has taken your nipple in his mouth, swirling his long tongue around the bud and teasing it with his teeth, your other breast in his hands, rolling the bud between his fingers.

you whimper and moan, shaking your hips in return. the sensation is so good, especially since he's keeping you from running with his arm around your waist, forcing you to take the pleasure he's giving you.

as if you would want to run anyway. you've become way too addicted to this now.

sure you and cove have been intimate before, but this is the most you've ever taken of his ridiculously large mer dick and this is the roughest he's ever been with you.

usually he’s the one holding your hips to keep you from sinking any further on his length. but now he's fucking you with reckless abandon, giving into your pleas after all this time…

it doesn't take much to succumb to the pleasure that you've been craving this whole time.

“cove!” you cry, your legs shaking.”i’m gonna, i’m gonna make a mess!”

cove growls, picking up pace, purposefully angling his tip to slam against your g-spot.

a couple solid thrusts is all it takes to have you shaking, your legs wrapped around cove as you squirt.

you're seeing white, your legs shaking and toes curling. you can barely process the groan that comes deep from cove's throat because of your convulsing cunt, you're wrapped so tightly around him that his cock drags against your walls when he tries to pull back.

you whine and shake, feeling sensitive after such an intention orgasm.

"cove…" you weakly call, pulling yourself up by his shoulders to try and get off his dick, that spongy spot inside your walls too tender from the abuse.

"don't pull away from me.." cove grunts, wrapping his arms around your waist tighter.

you pant, blinking and trying to keep consciousness.

you barely register that you're slipping into sub space, you've completely surrendered yourself to cove and obediently swallow the pearls he presses to your lips.

"mm, what.. what was that?" you ask, swallowing several times at the after taste. you know one of them was for breathing underwater, but you've never seen the other before..

"it's a contraceptive."

in this position you feel really small to cove, his body leaning over yours, completely trapping you between him and his nest.

combine that with his feral grin and sharp eyes… you're stuck and absolutely hypnotized.

"merfolk are very fertile, remember?" cove leans down to whisper in your ear. his voice deep and it penetrates your soul.

"we have a lot left to do before i impregnate you with my seed."

you shiver, looking at him with wide eyes. the thought doesn't terrify you, although maybe it should with what you know…

most humans don't survive it. and that's typically because they're not mated… something about DNA and special pheromones to relax and aid you in pregnancy and birth.

cove kisses your cheek, grinding his the tip of his dick near your womb. "don't worry… i know hoe to make it easier, don't be scared."

you nod mindlessly, trusting him.

"fuck!" you curse, the power of cove's thrust nearly burying you in his nest.

you cling onto his shoulders for dear life, your leg kicking out, allowing him to go even deeper.

"cove!"

"shhh, it's okay. just a bit more.." cove soothes, "i'm gonna cum soon…"

he groans, removing himself from your thoroughly marred neck to hold your legs and spreading them open, allowing him to piston into your weeping cunt.

you howl, throwing your head back and fisting the organized mess of blankets and materials of cove's nest, arching your back.

the movement just forces his dick deeper inside you, making you whine loudly.

you flip over, although not without much shaking, whimpering, and cove's nails digging into your skin.

although now that you've made it onto your stomach, weakly trying to escape the onslaught of pleasure, cove tugs your hips back and easily manhandled you.

he presses you against his chest with his hand, the other on your stomach, which he brings something interesting to your attention…

"fuck.. you see that?"

it takes you a minute to respond, too long because cove grabs you by your chin and tilts your head down, and shows you your stomach.

you moan lowly at the sight.

with every deep thrust you can see cove's dick protrude from your stomach, popping up right below your belly button.

cove lifts your head back up, his hand under your jaw, and he can't help but laugh at the tears running down your face.

"look at you, you've become a brainless slut."

you moan at cove's degrading comment. fuck you didn't think he had it in you but he does and you are losing it.

"maybe i'll keep you to myself forever. merfolk already have a bad reputation because of sirens.." cove growls in your ear, "wanna be my cute lil' cock sleeve, y/n?"

all you can do is beg and squirm for more.

"please.." you whimper, feeling cove's knot catching on your entrance. you want to be filled, you need him to cum inside..

cove laughs at your plea and kisses your lips, grinning a sharp toothed, wolfish smirk. "good girl, i'll take care of you…"

[atalana]

so i finally got the chance to read the book of bill! and man those journal 3 pages, i could write a million essays on those, but the principle one that i can't get out my head is the new insight on ford's whole fucked up paradigm of what love is

like, neither of the stan twins really know how to experience unconditional love, because they never really had it. their dad was constantly comparing the two of them and really just stamping down stanley's self worth at any given moment. and even for ford who was praised, he's not an idiot, he saw how stan got treated all the time, and their dad was very explicit as to why. ford's praise and attention hinged on him being the family genius who could make them all a lot of money, and he knew very well if he failed to live up to that, he would also lose his father's love

and you see this in stan in his desperate need for everyone to like him, but also how he doesn't really believe anyone ever truly could love him, so whenever he gets the chance with anyone he clings onto that relationship as tight as he can, terrified it's going to disappear at any second

ford, meanwhile. the more direct threat to him was the bullies and the people that made him feel lesser for being abnormal. and no kid likes feeling like that, we know it's a spike buried deep in his psyche, which gave him a reason for the dichotomy he ends up forming.

when he was a kid, people tended to fall into two categories - those who were really impressed with him and his potential, and those who saw him as a freak and wanted to drag him down for it. the love he got and the hate he got are directly related to both.

and as a result ford is constantly looking for people who will give him intellectual gratification (what he thinks love is), and he categorises everyone else as "unimportant obstacles in my way" (because that's how he thinks about those bullies, so their words won't hurt anymore)

stanley was the first category, until he sharply became the second

and splitting the world into those two categories makes him an absolutely horrible person! like, one hand yeah, you do have sympathy for ford bc that is straight up torture bill put him through and no one should have to experience it (and i do wanna make clear this is not a ford hate post, he does have good qualities im just interested in the bad rn)

on the other hand though, god, i'm always struck by just how hateful he is towards so many unimportant things (just one of many examples, christmas songs are fake and stupid bc rudolph didn't burn santa's workshop to the ground as revenge for ostracizing him like jesus christ dude)

or the bit where he sees one of stan's shitty product ads and considers calling him and pretending to be a cop just to scare him, because in ford's mind that's a punishment he deserves for daring to look so stupid while sharing ford's face

and it just drills in how much ford is not willing to see stan's side of this in any way, because what do you think would happen if you went through with that plan? don't you know stan's already scared enough? you saw him get kicked out, you saw the ultimatum that came with it, and hell thanks to the book of bill we know you were also scared to go home until you had something to show for it. he's trying his best, and you understood that once. but then stan throws your journal back in your face and you yell that you're giving him the chance to do the first worthwhile thing in his life.

everything he did to try and make something of himself, to try and prove himself worthy of literally any love at all, you didn't care about that. now he's in a position to help you, so of course he should just drop everything and obey your orders to the letter without question. that's the only way to redeem himself for getting in your way, why won't he take it?

by the time bill shows up ford felt fully justified in going "this isn't about me, and therefore it's stupid and unimportant and should be destroyed". and i know exactly why, it's because again you think intellectual gratification and love are the same thing and you're running low on both right now so you're trying to make up the difference by affirming how right you are in your goddamn diary, but right does not make you good or kind or wise

and that makes it kind of a self fulfilling prophecy, because loving you is hard, and the one person genuinely willing to do so unconditionally you're keeping at a very aggressive arms length. but you fall for bill so easily, because he understands how important you are, which must be love, and all of these other people worried about you just aren't smart enough to get it

and not even realising bill's lies could cure him of that one. hell, 30 years spent dimension hopping didn't cure it. when ford gets back he is still just as self righteous, and still willing to categorise dipper as "will give me intellectual gratification" and the rest of them as intrinsically less valuable

which is why dipper can't take the deal ford offered him. if he had, he would have turned out exactly like ford, stuck in his own echo chamber unable to tell the difference between love and praise

mabel says at one point in the comics that the reason the two grunkles are bad at looking after kids is because they still are kids, and that's a really accurate insight. that old wound cut so deep neither of them had the chance to actually move past their childhood, and discover what it was they were missing

stan never stopped wanting his brother back, but ford didn't realise that was what he needed too, until he saw mabel and dipper working as a team against bill. he's acknowledged his mistake in trusting bill before now, but "we used to be like that" is his first time acknowledging that his whole approach to people is wrong.

you've always had one source of unconditional love. you didn't need to be better than him to be worthy of it. and now you've got an entire new family, hopefully you'll realise that can come from multiple fronts

(and it's okay stan shall have his revenge for how you treated him by commiting just. so much tax fraud in your name)

[judasgot-it]

i would like to request what hunting dogs would do when their s/o has insomnia, a lot of hugs and kisses please🥰

Sorry for the inactivity, I apologize everytime and I feel horrible about it :,(

I have horrible insomnia right now (I can't sleep well no matter what I try, it's hopeless) so I'm 100% using this to cope a bit. Also sorry about how messy reader is in Tecchou's part, I just love messy crying. I'm so weak for it.

Scenario: They help you fall asleep (Jouno, Tecchou)

Jouno

893 words

Jouno couldn't tell the time.

Whatever time it was, his body didn't care - it was screaming at him to go back to bed, making his bones feel sluggish with their weight.

Unfortunately, his ears kept pestering him, since no matter how quiet you tried to be, he could still hear you in the kitchen. Doing what? Jesus Christ, who knew.

Whatever it was, it was too damn loud.

It felt nearly impossible for Jouno to make his body move, but by some feat, he managed. He found his feet both on the ground, walking towards the bedroom, out the too-long hallway, and into the kitchen to see what in god's name you could think was worth losing sleep over.

By his guess, it was most probably around 2 in the morning. How horrible.

"Hi."

There was a loud clatter as he heard you drop the dishes in the sneak rather unquietly. Also, you screamed, but that was to be expected.

"Oh my god!"

Is there a God at this forsaken time of night?

Jouno sighed as he leaned against the wall, rubbing his eyes out of habit.

"Yeah. I'm right here."

He gave you a moment to collect yourself, your heartbeat still skyrocketing through the roof. He yawned, nearly deafened by the sound of his jaw pulling at his muscles.

"So."

As patient as he could, he waited. There was noise on your end - a clattering of dishes, and he was sure you threw a towel somewhere, but that was of lesser importance.

"So. Jouno."

"Yeah?"

You patted your bare thighs, popping your lips together. Nervous.

"Why are you up?"

You tried to play your words off with a giggle. He knew he probably looked the least bit pleased, but nothing was going to convince him to go easy on you right now.

"Y/n. You know why I'm up. I'm the one asking the questions here, if I recall."

"Oh, right. Because you're 'the greatest hunting dog' and all, right?"

Jouno sighed, covering his eyes. He took a deep breath in, holding it in. It was calming, feeling his lungs slowly fill with air. His head cleared, helping him realize that the headache he had was I'm part due to the tension he was keeping in his body. In that time, he heard your heart beat skyrocket, your breath slowing as you stared.

He tried not to smile as he let go of his breath slowly. If Jouno wasn't exhausted he would have teased you about it.

"'Don't do this to me. It's 2 in the morning, go to bed."

Your laughter was a nice noise to hear. Just not now. God, not now. His body was dragging him to the ground and your laughter was reminding him that he was standing, awake - as if he were in hell.

Your laughter shouldn't be in a place as torturous as this. Like the hell between staying awake and crawling back to bed, because someone thought baking at two in rhe morning was a good idea.

"Sorry princess, but I need to put these brownies in the fridge. I'm trying out this recipe I saw online and I think-"

You didn't get to finish that sentence, as you were instead kidnapped in Jouno's arms. The man didn't care to hear the end of it - he only wanted it to end.

"No." He sighed, pressing his cold nose against your neck. "You're insane, honestly."

He muffled his words into your shirt collar, still restraining you as you struggled against his hold. There was no point, as no matter what way you fought, you couldn't fight against a super-enhanced human - even a tired one.

"This is so ..."

You paused for a bit, looking for the right words. Your brain was tired, although it hadn't registered to you just yet. Your heart still beat fast enough for you to convince yourself that you were awake, even if your eyes and mind were exhausted.

"So ...fun police of you."

The words that came out of your mouth came out sloppy at best, but they got a lame chuckle out of Jouno.

With care, he took you back to the bedroom - dropping you onto the bed like a pile of unfolded laundry. You practically laid there as if you were dead anyway.

"I have no problem arresting and cuffing you to bed if it means sleep is involved."

You giggled, as much as your tired brain could push from your throat. The bed shifted as Jouno dropped himself on the mattress, pulling up the still warm blanket over the two of you.

"What if that meant something else was involved too?"

Jouno groaned, turning back towards you. He could imagine the stupid smile on your face right now.

"Y/n."

"Yeah?"

Jouno took his hand and slowly, carefully, dragged it across your face. He felt as your eyebrows pinched in confusion, and your eyelids fluttered before he finally set his fingertips on your lips.

"Shush."

He felt you nod against his hand, before finally relaxing. Tiredly, he pulled you closer, burying his face in your hair as he slowly pressed his lips against your forehead.

"Goodnight, sleepyhead."

Jouno felt a smile pull on his face at those words. Like an idiot, he let you roam your hands around his body - when really he should have smothered you to death.

Tecchou

739 words

Waking up before you were supposed to was like a coin toss - depending on the mood it's either a great early start, or the worst feeling in the world. Sometimes the body had gotten it's full rest, or it was forced awake by something talked about in horror stories.

Tecchou decided he was indeed not well rested, and that waking up at what could well be 2 in the morning was equivalent to a horror story. Why would he want to wake up to one of the worst sounds a man could hear - his own partner, crying?

Maybe if he was Jouno, but he didn't want to think about that.

He sat up, listening as he tried to decipher what you were doing.

You were rather quiet, trying your hardest to hide your cries behind your blanket (gross, but he appreciated the effort). Opening his eyes, he glanced over to see that you were enraptured by some sort of video on your phone, the blue light illuminating your face (and probably burning your retinas, from Tecchou's guess).

He shuffled closer, trying to peak at the screen while not disturbing you. Whatever you were staring at on your phone had distracted you well enough to not even notice his presence, was slightly concerning to Tecchou - you were very spatially aware.

Shaking your shoulder, he winced when you screamed - right in his ear, with snot blowing right across his face. He elected to not react to it, considering how red your eyes looked.

"Tecchou!"

"Yea. I'm here." He replied while casually wiping off his face with the blanket he was once sleeping peacefully under.

He stared at you, his amber eyes glowing from your phone screen. You looked back, trying to readjust to the sudden change in brightness.

"M'sorry, did I wake you?" You had finally shut off you phone, resting it on your chest - giving yourself a good chance to see his full face.

"Why are you crying, babe?"

His hand roamed around your stomach, softly pulling at the fabric around it. It made you shiver as you felt his legs press against yours, warming you underneath the sheets.

"Oh...um..." You tore your gaze away from his, staring straight at the ceiling. You fidgeted with your phone, trying to stop your trembling lip.

Carefully, Tecchou reached over and wiped away your spilled-over tears, thumbing your cheek as if your skin were made of glass. He pulled you closer, resting your head against his chest, trying to calm you. Adversely, this had the opposite effect, making you start to cry even more onto his naked skin.

There were muffled stupid and sorry between your sobs, although he elected to ignore them for now. Instead, he waited as your body was racked with tears, shaking and holding onto Tecchou as if he were a lifeline.

"Hey, babe?" Calmly rubbing your shoulder, Tecchou waited as you wiped your snot and tears along your sleeve, sniffing as loud as an American bullfrog.

"Can I ask what upset you so much?"

You lightly smacked his shoulder, still hiding yourself within his warmth.

"You already did, ass."

"Right."

He went back to holding you, waiting for your reply. Eventually, when he thought you would have maybe decided to fall back asleep again instead, with the room still cast in pitch-black shadows, you decided to reply -

"I failed my exam."

Silently, Tecchou nodded.

There wasn't anything he could say to make you feel better, at no words that he knew to say. It was easier to simply pull you closer, to make you feel better through his hold than to say anything more.

"It's fine, you should try and sleep. Maybe you'll feel better in the morning."

Carefully, he pulled your phone from your hand, sliding it onto the bedside table, hoping to stop you from looking at your failure once again.

You didn't need to be reminded of it anymore, not when he could distract you right now.

As gently as a man like Tecchou could, he took to scratching at the soft skin at the back of your neck, gently tapping his rough fingernails along your spine. He smiled as felt you begin to relax, breathing out a sigh as his fingertips brushed alongside your bare shoulder blades.

He watched as you relaxed into his form, waiting until you started to breathe slower so he could allow himself to fully fall asleep once again.

Sorry about the months-long break, I didn't mean to abandon Tecchou. Also btw IRLs of mine know about this account so if I start sounding even weirder on here it's because I stopped caring about my employment opportunities

[poomphuripan]

the mingjoe hotel room scene has been running on loop in my head all day. uppoom are just insanely talented people Jesus Christ. i would love to hear your thoughts on it!!

and cheers to no phone throwing—just lots of pushing and biting(?), which is definitely a little bit more palatable. i really enjoy that like with the ep3 bathroom scene, ming’s extreme physical behavior is not being romanticized. like sure some (me) will still find it hot but it’s very.. ugly looking? like the way ming is overly rough with his arm around joe’s neck acting like an animal or in a sleazy outfit like ep3 (😭) that it just makes you cringe more than anything else.

hi nonnie (ToT)/~~~

sameeeeeeeeee. this scene was just incredible. so for anyone that doesn't know, this is the scene from chapter 73 'Underestimating Yan Ming Xiu’s Feelings for Zhou Xiang' of Professional Body Substitute. I will leave a small excerpt with edited names for easy reading experience down here.

Joe smiled sarcastically, “Khun Ming, I am just as baffled as you. I don’t know how I could have offended P'Tong. Your FAMILY is of one mind, if you could help me figure it out, perhaps I could correct my mistakes.” When Joe mentioned ‘family,’ he especially emphasized it with a heavier tone. Ming’s expression became unsightly. He grabbed his cell phone and threw it at Joe’s face, immediately hitting Joe in his cheekbones, making it instantly swollen. Ming responded coldly, “Joe, don’t you have a bit of shame. You keep repeatedly speaking to me with this mocking sarcasm. Even if I was to spend money to raise a dog, it’ll bark nicely upon seeing me. Who do you think you are? If it wasn’t because ….. do you think you’re even worth a few yuan?” Joe caressed his face, feeling the air leaking from his voided heart. But he didn’t feel anything. He didn’t feel humiliated, let alone sadness. He felt that what Ming said is extremely right. If it wasn’t because he looked a bit like Tong, whether it was from before or in the present, how could he have the opportunity to stand in front of Ming? After such a long time, he had finally accepted this fact and was able to fully be at peace. He smiled, “What Khun Ming said is right. I admit that I am wrong. No matter what P'Tong does, he must have his reasons.” Ming raised his eyebrows deeply. The smile on Joe’s face made him feel uncomfortable, not only is it uncomfortable, it was simply glaring to the extreme. He instinctively felt that he had seen this expression before from somewhere, this expression made his heart tremble. Ming didn’t know how he could teach this person called Joe a lesson because this person is too untamed. But at the same time, there are so many commonalities between this person and “that person,” so that he is always subconsciously tolerant of him. He has repeatedly tolerated his words and even gave him the condo he had prepared for his older brother. He knew that he is not “Joe” but because there were so many overlapping details between them, it made him lose his mind. He didn’t know what he is expecting from this fake ‘Joe.’ What exactly was he expecting!! He stared at Joe coldly and ordered, “Undress.” Joe is slightly startled and then nimbly removed his clothes piece by piece. Ming press him onto the bed, separating his thighs. Then, he proceeded to brutally and fervently fuck him. The lines on Joe’s back are painfully stretched, his muscles trembled violently with Ming’s frightening rigorous speeds; sweat dripped along the sides of his cheeks onto the bed sheet. Joe clenched his teeth trying with much difficulty to suppress himself from making any sounds. The moans lodged in this throat instead became smothering sounds. The phone next to the bed suddenly rang. Joe slowly looked up and blankly glanced at it. Ming immediately pressed his head into the blanket and hoarsely shouted, “Don’t let me see your face!” Joe’s face was forced into the blanket. He hated that he couldn’t directly bury himself beneath the bed. Ming picked up the handset; his thrusting movements became a bit stagnant but he was still slowly pummeling in and out of Joe. Back and forth, his hot weapon thrusted repeatedly into Joe’s body. This strange feeling made his entire body shook.

okay so i was crazy excited for how they were gonna adapt this onscreen because for this scene to truly delivered they had to be able to retain the shame joe had to bear to hear those hurtful words from ming while showing ming is lashing out as a result of him being driven up the walls due to the similarity between joe 2.0 and joe 1.0, especially when joe 2.0 associated him and tong as 'family'.

i totally agree with the series' refusal to romanticize any of these scenes. and i think the best adaptation change has been for joe to say all these things back to ming whereas he didn't in the novel.

oh god poom's eye work in this scene was just incredible. i think i prefer this to his resigned attitude in the same scene of the novel. the series has designed joe to be more emotional and vulnerable than his novel counterpart and i think it fits in line well with the comments in the first few episodes of novel readers noting that joe seems more "innocent" and "naive" than novel!zhou xiang.

all gifs courtesy of @jimmysea

and yes as you mentioned, it doesn't feel romantic at all. and i'm sure it's completely intentional on the producers to design this scene as such so we get a remorseful ming the following morning and heightened the tension between the two characters, while building up to the reveal scene at the end of the episode.

like just how can joe 2.0 trust ming saying this when ming is seemingly the same 'guy who lashes out' in that very fight scene they had earlier.

i also like the contrast between the design of that fight scene and the scene where ming ended up not following through with sex when joe 2.0 had reminded him of joe 1.0 (see, he can make good decisions on rare occasions). it's interesting because at that point you'd think ming has changed but then just one mention of joe/tong is such a sore subject for him, as if it's a sharp reminder (from joe himself) that he (and tong) are the reason for joe's disappearance, that it triggers all ming's buttons and he's right back to square one. it's a long journey for ming to prove his love to joe and i like that the series doesn't make it an easy ride for him even if they've 'toned down' to make the characters more palatable and human.

i don't know i'm just rambling incoherently at this point, but i hope that made sense nonnie ಥ_ಥ

edit: linking this weibo post from the msi supertopic which discusses the conversation. why do i hate miscommunication but love this so much wahhhhh. also more praises for this scene here.

[elizaaudreyy]

Dogfight Darling (Pt. Three)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female!oc Word Count: 674

It started as a game.

At first, it was just a low-cut tank top or a pair of shorts that showed off a little more leg than necessary. But now, every time Lacey Mitchell knew she was going to see Jake Seresin, her wardrobe choices got a little bolder. A little tighter. A little shorter.

And Jake? He was circling the drain.

"Alright," Natasha said, sipping her beer as she watched Lacey chalk a pool cue with the grace of a girl who knew exactly what she was doing. "You've got him so wrapped around your finger it's almost unfair."

Lacey smirked and leaned over the table in a way that made Jake nearly fall off his barstool. "I know," she said sweetly. "That's what makes it so fun."

Tonight's outfit was dangerous. A cropped white halter top tied behind her neck and barely contained her chest, paired with a tiny black skirt that fluttered when she walked and left nothing to the imagination when she leaned over the pool table. Criminally short. Possibly illegal in several counties.

Jake, of course, had shown up at the Hard Deck with the intention of keeping his distance. Of drinking one beer. Of not staring at Maverick's daughter like he was an inch away of setting himself on fire.

But then she'd walked in, all hips and mischief, and his plans went up in smoke.

He was halfway through pretending not to watch her when she bent over a shot, and that little skirt inched up just enough to reveal -

"Jesus Christ," Jake muttered, standing abruptly and walking across the room toward her, as if his feet had stopped listening to logic.

Lacey lined up her shot without missing a beat, totally aware of the commotion she was causing. The guys near the bar were not exactly subtle with their stares.

Jake stood behind her. Directly behind her.

"Uh, Seresin?' Coyote quirked a brow. "You playing?"

"No," Jake said, eyes fixed forward. "Just supervising."

Lacey giggled softly as she sank the ball and turned around, finding herself very close to Jake. "Supervising, huh?"

"You're about half a second away from giving everyone in here a free show," he said lowly, jaw clenched. "That skirt should come with a warning label."

"You mean this skirt?" she asked, stepping just a little closer, lips twitching with amusement. "The one you can't stop staring at?"

Jake swallowed, hard. "Not staring. Just... being proactive."

"To protect my modesty?"

"To protect my sanity," he hissed.

From the bar, Nat lifted her beer again. "You guys wanna make out or should I start narrating this like a live sports broadcast."

Lacey laughed and leaned over the pool table again for another shot, and like clockwork, Jake stepped forward again, effectively shielding her from the view of everyone behind them.

"You're blocking my air," she said.

"I'm blocking the Hard Deck," Jake growled. "There's a difference."

Lacey sank the ball and stood straight, proud. "You're cute when you're territorial."

"I'm not territorial."

"Uh-huh."

"I'm just not interested in watching some drunk Naval tech ogle you like you're dessert."

Her eyes glittered. "You mean like you do?"

Jake opened his mouth. Closed it. "That's different."

"How?"

"Because I'm-" He paused. "I don't ogle. I admire."

Lacey laughed, pure and bright, the kind of laugh that made his chest feel too small.

"You're gonna get me grounded," he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face.

"I haven't even touched you," she teased, eyes flashing.

"Exactly," Jake stared down at her. "And I'm still losing my mind."

From the bar, Natasha whistled. "Careful, Hangman. You're one misstep away from Mav throwing you out of the program."

Jake didn't blink. "Honestly? Worth it."

Lacey bit her lip to hide her smile - and lined up another shot. As expected, Jake stepped behind her again like a human wall.

This time, though, she let her heel brush against his shin. Deliberate. Gentle. Just enough to make him twitch.

Yep. He was definitely screwed.

And Lacey?

She was just getting started.

[the-chosen-fanfiction]

Big James | To Die Is Gain | Romantic

Dialogue prompt: “I’ll see you in heaven.”

The cost of following Jesus Christ is high, but it is worth everything, including losing your love.

Requested by J Bart

With a heavy huff, you lift the loaf out of the oven and place it onto the countertop, setting it there to cool. Behind you, five-year-old Rebecca chases her older sister Naomi around the already cramped kitchen, causing you to quickly intervene. “Ah-ah-ah, girls, if you want to play, go play in the living room or in the yard.” They heed your warning as you gesture at the freshly baked loaf. Rebecca hugs your leg as she looks up at you.

“Eema, can I have bread?” 

You put a hand on her sleek, dark hair. “Not yet, sweetheart. It has to be a bit colder first so that you don’t burn your mouth and tongue.” 

She hums and gives a little disappointed nod before turning to follow Naomi to the living room, where most of their toys are located. 

As you turn to wipe down the counters, however, you hear a shrill shriek from the hallway that is hard to identify. When it’s followed with the joyous exclamation of ‘abba’ in a way that can be heard on the other side of the street, you are instantly relieved. Drying your hands on your apron, you head out of the kitchen to greet your husband. 

“Shalom, darling.” James greets you, leaning down to kiss your forehead as his daughters cling to his sides. The older son of Zebedee smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“Shalom,” you reply with worry in your voice, wondering what is going on. The tension in his shoulders tells you that his meeting with Matthew and Nathanael had been about more than simply catching up. 

You move to take his bag from him, but James quickly grabs it before you can slide it off his shoulder. He looks down at you, giving you an apologetic look. “I’m still going to need it.” 

Tilting your head in slight puzzlement, you watch how he scoops up his girls and heads to the living room, blowing a raspberry against Naomi’s cheek, causing both of them to giggle with joy. You stand in the hallway for a bit, pondering the interaction before heading after them.

James is just undoing his sandals while your daughters busy themselves with their handcrafted peg-dolls. He looks up and meets your gaze, his form slumping a bit. With a sigh, you walk over to him, crouching down in front of him in order to remove the laces from his footwear. He gives an appreciative hum as you gently squeeze his calves, sensing the tension in his muscles.

“You need to rest.” 

“I can’t. I…” 

“…Another ministry trip.” you finish it for him as his voice trails off. James nods, his gaze momentarily going to Rebecca and Naomi, who are oblivious to their father having to leave for an extended period of time again.

As his eyes meet yours, something stirs within you. A deeply unsettling feeling blooms deep inside your stomach, a wave of sudden nausea tightening your throat. You swallow away the lump that forms. 

Being married to one of Jesus’ Disciples is a blessing in and of itself, that He had called your husband personally as His student to spread the news about the Kingdom of God around the world. The fact that said called pupil had decided to marry you of all women was still sometimes a little bit of a mystery to you. Still, it didn’t make it easy. James was often gone from home. No matter the incredible reason behind it and no matter how proud of him you were, you still missed him greatly. 

It wasn’t uncommon for James to leave on a whim, with him throwing a few items in a bag and hitting the road whenever the Spirit compelled him to go somewhere. But now… This time, it was different. Everything in your entire being is on edge, your instincts heralding something… Heart-wrenching. You can’t quite put a finger on it. 

Your husband seems to sense something, too. He reaches his hand out for you to take, his fingers lacing with yours. 

“Love, I’ll be alright.” he reassures you. “Don’t you worry about me. Just take care of your girls while I’m gone. I just— I need to go to Judea. I— I am aware that my presence isn’t really wanted there, but you knew how Jesus went about these places. We shouldn’t be scared. You shouldn’t be scared.” 

Averting your gaze, you try your hardest to not cry. Judea. Herod Agrippa won’t have mercy on him.

You know you can’t talk him out of it, and you know you shouldn’t even want it. Still, you can’t help but want to at least address your sudden concern, share the looming dread starting to take root.

“James,” you whisper, your eyes brimming with tears. “I don’t know about your trip… It is this… This gut feeling that something is going to happen to you.” 

James’ face falls into solemnity as he stands from the chair. Suddenly, he looks years older than he is; he has started to look more like Zebedee over time, but now it’s more clear than ever. 

“I was hoping that you wouldn’t feel that, too.” You’re not the only one anxious for a tragic outcome of his mission trip, “If only for the reason that you’d remain hopeful for my return and use that energy for the glory of God.” 

There is something definite behind his words that makes your throat screw shut. You inhale through your nose and attempt to sound strong. “Ah, Naomi.” The eight-year-old looks up from her playing session. “Go play outside with your sister.” 

“Yes, eema.” 

The girl fetches her sibling to bring her to the other room of the house, leaving you and James alone. 

“You aren’t coming back, are you?” 

Your voice cracks. James is on the verge of breaking, gazing down at you with tearful eyes. “This is your final ministry trip.” 

“I— I might just get imprisoned, you know? I’ll just be out there, which means that I can still return—” 

“I think you and I both know that Herod Agrippa won’t be so kind to you.” you whisper.

Certainty shines through in your words, as if you are absolutely sure of what you’re saying. Your husband gazes at you, drinking in every detail of your face. There is fear under the surface, strangely coupled with a sense of peace, albeit barely present. He gulps, trying to not cry as he steps closer to you. 

“My love...” he croaks, “I don’t know what to say. If you do not want me to go on this mission trip, I will see what I can do to reschedule, or—or perhaps cancel it altogether—”

“—No.” Your voice is stern and determined, “No. I will not let my own fears and selfish desires to keep you all to myself prevent the Good News to reach them, too.” 

James’ heart clenches inside his chest. He cradles your face, a few tears rolling down his cheeks as he holds you. “You have been the biggest blessing that has ever been bestowed upon me, my sweet, faithful wife. Every day, I am so grateful to have a woman like you by my side. I thank Adonai for you every single time I look upon you.” His voice cracks as he lets out a sob. Emotion gets the better of you, too. You sniffle and muffle a strained wail as you bury your head into his chest, enveloped by his strong arms.

“(Y/n), do not be afraid.” 

“You know I will be terrified regardless of what you say, right?” 

“Do not weep for me. I will either return to you, or I will see Jesus again.” 

The sudden image of James coming face to face with Jesus in the afterlife thrusts grief through every fibre of your being for the briefest of seconds, before it makes place for solace. Even if the unthinkable happens, your husband will be right where he needs to be. 

“This won’t be farewell,” he reassures you, “It will instead be a ‘see you soon’, hm?” 

You smile through your tears. “How soon?” 

James can’t help but mirror it, chuckling lightly as he shakes his head. “Oh, here we go again, with ‘soon’.” It never gets old, even after more than a decade.

The two of you meaningfully look at one another in a silence that is only broken by the sound of your daughters playing in the other room. The eye-contact holds an entire legacy. Nearly ten years of marriage, two beautiful girls, a calling to preach the Gospel, the Name of Jesus over these lands, no matter how hostile their rulers. 

Your soft smile falls a little as you realise what it will mean for the next few years, at least for you. You try and shake the thought — the feeling it evokes — you don’t want to be egotistical in wanting to keep James close by, fathering your children, being the husband you need to support you. But it’s only human nature to feel the horrific arms of loneliness loom over you like a dark storm cloud. 

Something hits you hard inside your chest all of a sudden, knocking all air from your lungs. A simple realisation that hadn’t even crossed your mind before. 

“You won’t see them grow up.” 

Your legs nearly give way underneath you. You won’t be growing old with him. You will not see the greys in his beard and his hair. His hands come to rest on your elbows as James senses your premature grief.  He squeezes, conveying another message by just gazing down at you, eyes filled with love.

That is not all there is to it.

It is not the end of the story.

There will be comfort in little moments reminding you of him. Sunset at the docks. The scent of a fresh catch creeping through your window as the fishermen of the village haul their wares to the market. There will be the roll of mighty thunder in a warm summer storm. There will be cinnamon cakes. His eyes in Naomi’s features and his nose in Rebecca’s.

“You don’t know that yet, (Y/n).” James steps closer, cradling your face between his hands. You relish in the sensation, melting into the familiar warmth, closing your eyes to keep your emotions from taking the better of you. You commit it to memory — as if you hadn’t done so already. “I need you to remain hopeful. Can you promise me? That you will keep praising Him, no matter how tough life gets?” 

“I will.” you breathe as your eyes snap back open again, looking up at him. He smiles and nods, bringing his forehead to yours. 

“Good.” You slide your arms around his waist and embrace him. You stand like that for a while.

“When are you leaving?” 

“Tonight.” he tells you with a wavering voice. 

“So soon?” 

He gives you a wry smile, swallowing hard as he nods. “I can still have dinner with you and the girls.” he says. “I saw you baked quite the loaf.” 

You let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, I… You better bring a big piece with you on your way to Judea. We can’t finish all of that in time with just the three of us before it gets stale.” 

James exhales deeply. “I… I wish we had more time together before I had to leave again.” 

“It’s alright.” you murmur, turning to the kitchen. Your husband follows right away to assist you in laying the table. “I knew what I was getting myself into when I married you.” 

In silence, James prepares the table whilst you get the food out, reheating a previously cooked stew to go with the bread. He comes to stand behind you, placing a hand on your waist before his lips find your cheek, then the side of your neck. You can feel his smile against your skin when you squirm a little under his rough beard. “Your stews are the best.” your husband confesses, squeezing your hip affectionately. “Especially when you let the herbs marinate into it overnight.” 

Without asking, you grab a small container from one of the shelves and scoop some of the food into it. “For on the road.” you tell him. He gives you a gentle smile and tucks some hair behind your ear.

“You make me the happiest man alive, you know that?” 

The girls are pulled back inside by the scent of your famous stew and soon cling to your waist on either side of you, their little faces mushed against your torso and bosom as they watch you cook. James watches the scene with a bittersweet heaviness in his heart, observing the way you explain your process to Naomi and Rebecca who are one day to learn your recipe by heart. The lump that forms in his throat is hard to swallow away. 

Following Jesus is not easy, especially not in times like these, when his daughters are growing up and his wife needs him so. But James knows that it is nothing compared to the price Jesus Himself had to pay, that the price of sin was infinitely heavier than any other hardship taken on in favour of submitting to Him. The Son of God has proven so Himself by giving the ultimate sacrifice. James and you would gladly give your lives for Him. Even here, even now, when the two of you had everything you ever wanted and everything to lose. 

Naomi and Rebecca sit down in their chairs the moment you tell them to, each of them on their usual spot. Diagonally across from you sits James, already slicing up the bread into equal pieces lest your daughters get fussy over it, as if the loaf isn’t large enough to feed all of you for several days. You place the warm pan onto the table and scoop portions into the plates. 

Four of them. Your heart clenches inside your chest at the notion that it might just be the final time that you’re doing this for your full, complete family. You blink away your tears, not wanting to cry in front of your daughters at this very moment. There will be time for tears later. 

Dinner goes by way too quickly, but you notice James relishing in the taste of the home-cooked meal. Five, nearly six full years of having dinner with the four of you. Granted, there had been occasional gaps in between whenever James went on mission trips, but still. You had been blessed in and of itself regardless of how much time it covered. 

After your meal, it’s time to clean for a bit whilst the girls play in the next room. Your husband insists on helping you out in lieu of packing his bags. The silence between your is pregnant with looming tension. The Spirit tells you that this is no ordinary trip, but at the same time, He brings solace in the moment. 

You help James pack a few belongings, a fresh tunic, the food you had prepared for him. Once done, you sit in the living room together, watching your children play, your head nuzzled into the crook of his neck as he holds you near. You relish in James’ familiar scent, locking it into your memory, praying it won’t fade from his tunics and from your home, praying he’ll come back to you to fill your home with love and laughter.

The sun lowers and every passing minute brings you closer to your dreaded goodbye. 

Both of you feel it. Rebecca comes over to cuddle her father, as if she senses something lingering, too.

“I need to go.” James heavily breathes against your ear, the emotion tangible in his voice. You swallow hard as you hear the words you hoped he would forget to say. 

“Okay.” you respond with equal earnesty, locking away the feeling of being in his arms deep inside your mind out of fear that you’d forget. 

“Come here, my darlings.” James beckons your daughters over to his side as he stands, crouching down to their level to face them properly. “Abba has to go on another trip.” 

“Nah, really?” Naomi pouts, wrapping her arms around his neck as she sits on his knee. James nods gently and sighs.

“Really. But don’t you worry, I will be thinking of you constantly. Now you two need to promise me something, okay?” 

The two girls nod at their father. 

“Be good girls for eema and listen to what she tells you. She will teach you everything she knows about life and you better learn from her, because she is the smartest woman I’ve ever met. And whenever eema is sad and needs a hug, you give it to her, okay?” 

“Yes, abba.” They both reply in near-unison.

Your vision blurs with tears at his words.

“Now I’m going to say goodbye to eema in the hallway. She will come get you when it’s time to wave at me.” 

The two children nod as they go back to their playing, not truly understanding the gravity of the situation. They expect their father to come back home, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

The moment you and James step into the hallway, you fall into his arms, sobbing against his chest as the tension suddenly breaks. His lips are on your forehead as he shushes you, rocking you through your premature grief about him as tears roll down his face. “My love.” he breathes, “My love, do not remain in your mourning about me. I am not yet gone. And it isn’t said that I will be.” 

“We are both feeling it, James, I—” 

“—I know. I know.” 

He holds you as you cry. You don’t know for how long you two stand there, but your cheeks are red and raw when you’ve got no tears left to spill. You wipe your face on your sleeve and sniffle before inhaling James’ scent deeply. One last time. 

“I will wait for you.” you promise.

“And if it is what the Lord wants, I will come back to you. If it is not what the Lord wants… I’ll see you in heaven, alright?” He thumbs away your tears and looks down at you with affection and devotion. “This life is just a speck compared to what we will receive when we are back with Him. This will pass, too.” 

You try to hold onto that knowledge, tuck it away inside your heart and mind. You nod and sniffle, then hug him again.

“We will meet again,” you whisper more to yourself than to James, “No matter the circumstances, no matter the location, but this is not farewell.” 

“That’s right.” James hums, “And until then, I’ll think of you and our beautiful daughters. I’m so proud of you. Now… I really need to go.” 

You hum and step away, watching how he puts his bag over his shoulder. “Do you have everything you need?” 

He nods, cupping your cheek. “I think you triple-checked.” James knows you too well. You smile and sigh. 

“Girls? Come wave at abba with me.” 

James opens the heavy door. The stars have already come out and litter the sky. Naomi and Rebecca exit the living room and instantly rush over to their father, who hides his tears from them. “I am going to miss you so much.” he whispers with a wavering voice. “Be good, okay? Keep trusting in the Lord.” 

The two girls nod before their father kisses each of their foreheads. He then stands again, reaching for the door knob. Rebecca reaches her arms up for you to pick her up, and you hoist her onto your hip. Your other hand comes to rest on Naomi’s head as she hugs your side. 

“I’ll see you soon, my love.” James says. You smile softly at him as he crosses the threshold. Plausibly — most likely the final time he ever will. 

“Soon,” you emphasise, the two of you holding a moment of meaningful eye-contact. 

He gives you a soft look, then looks down at the girls, back up at you, before starting to walk away. The three of you watch him grow smaller in the distance. “Soon.” You murmur to yourself, your heart clenching inside your chest as you feel it start to break with every step he takes away from you. 

You hug your daughters a little closer. The price of following the Lord is a heavy one to pay. But Jesus is worth everything. In the end, it will all click into place, just like the way God had intended it to. And all you can do is trust Him in that, unconditionally, without fear.

[andorerso]

here we go, for one last time. at this point I have nothing but salt... but at least we made it to the other side

episode 10

tooka cat!!!

rip Lonnie, you were a real one

ERSOOOOOOOO GALEN ERSO

now do Jyn next please

lullaby pill Luthen?

well. I guess that works too…. but I think it would have been a cool way to include the lullaby pill

so much for the Kerri is Kleya theories... thank god

the way that Kleya is what Cassian should have been lmaooooo

no why is she literally Cassian 😭

ugh love Kleya so much fr. I just wish this was Cassian...

I'm so fucking glad we went a whole episode without showing Cassian lmao. at the most critical time when he's supposed to be committed. yay 🤡

episode 11

the empire turning against Dedra after she gave them her unwavering loyalty… poetic, I love it

ANOTHER GALEN MENTION FOR THE GIRLIES

good to see Cassian finally show up halfway into the arc 🤡

Cassian cheating at cards…. I don't like it thanks

laughing and getting drunk with the boys… is this the Cassian I'm meant to believe is the tired, beaten down, sorta suicidal soldier from R1… lol. lmao even

he's STILL doing unauthorized things. you have to be fucking kidding me 🤡 I can only laugh at this point

"I've been counting the orders we've disobeyed so far, would you like to know how many?" "17" oh yes yes so funny because that's exactly like the man in rogue one yes of course, disobeying orders is what he was known for in rogue one 🤡 it wasn't a big fucking deal when he did it the first time, not at all. christttttt

what happened to Draven's loyal soldier? they're really not even gonna attempt to make him into the Ct. Andor we know, will they? fucking brilliant

Kay feels a bit off to me? he doesn't feel snarky and sarcastic enough I think

"I'm not leaving you here" oh casskleya you'll always be famous for me

episode 12

the casskleya crumbs are delicious I'm eating them up like nomnomnom

the rogue one music is killing me 😭

"with a stolen ship and unsupervised mission" like honestly… I'm just. fucking baffled

Kay waving at them "I plan to tell them I was kidnapped" lmaooo okay yeah, that's Kay, I can buy that

"worth violating every rule we live by" how am I meant to believe THIS is Cassian Andor? jesus fucking christ, if you asked anyone after R1 to describe him nobody would have said disobedient COME THE FUCK ON

I don't like the way Cassian doesn't respect authority, it doesn't feel like him at all lmao. the way he's talking down to them is very yikes. but I guess at least I see why he knew that they would not believe Jyn lmao

this is so painful. oh Cassian what have they done to you

TIVIK MENTION AT LAST!!!

I swear if the Tivik mention is also unsanctioned I'm gonna lose my mind

ALSO WHEN ARE THEY GONNA START LOOKING FOR JYN. CASSIAN PUTS TOGETHER HER FUCKING FILE HELLO????

they're not gonna mention her… are they 🙃

the way Cassian doesn't even seem that interested in finding Bix. maybe. I'll think about. idk, it's just not screaming I want to find her because I still love her to me

if Cassian's going to Kafrene tomorrow… there's no time for him to put together her file. they're not gonna mention her

"the man you do not like" ACTUALLY BAIL AND CASSIAN GET ALONG WELL, I KNOW THIS BECAUSE THEY TOLD ME SO

maybe Bail will namedrop her? I'm spiraling so hard

who cares about Perrin lmao no offense GIVE ME JYN

oh Dedra's ending though. damn. that's brutal

STOP WITH THE FORCE HEALER STOP IT!!

that's….. it? that was anti-climatic as hell ngl

NOOOOO IT'S NOT EVEN A POST CREDITS SCENE?! YOU ALL FUCKING LIED TO ME

well at least Bee is fine 🙃

I pretend I do not see 🙈

I also fucking love how they killed Cinta to give Vel luggage and then never fucking did anything with her. that's so cool

I'm sorry how can you not mention the main character of the movie you're making a prequel to even fucking once? how HARD would it have been to show them start looking for Jyn after Galen was mentioned? what the fuck are we doing

and in the end the Cassian of R1 was nowhere to be found. thanks for nothing Tony Gilroy

the casskleya crumbs are delicious I'm eating them up like nomnomnom

the rogue one music is killing me 😭

"with a stolen ship and unsupervised mission" like honestly… I'm just. fucking baffled

Kay waving at them "I plan to tell them I was kidnapped" lmaooo okay yeah, that's Kay, I can buy that

"worth violating every rule we live by" how am I meant to believe THIS is Cassian Andor? jesus fucking christ, if you asked anyone after R1 to describe him nobody would have said disobedient COME THE FUCK ON

I don't like the way Cassian doesn't respect authority, it doesn't feel like him at all lmao. the way he's talking down to them is very yikes. but I guess at least I see why he knew that they would not believe Jyn lmao

this is so painful. oh Cassian what have they done to you

TIVIK MENTION AT LAST!!!

I swear if the Tivik mention is also unsanctioned I'm gonna lose my mind

ALSO WHEN ARE THEY GONNA START LOOKING FOR JYN. CASSIAN PUTS TOGETHER HER FUCKING FILE HELLO????

they're not gonna mention her… are they 🙃

the way Cassian doesn't even seem that interested in finding Bix. maybe. I'll think about. idk, it's just not screaming I want to find her because I still love her to me

if Cassian's going to Kafrene tomorrow… there's no time for him to put together her file. they're not gonna mention her

"the man you do not like" ACTUALLY BAIL AND CASSIAN GET ALONG WELL, I KNOW THIS BECAUSE THEY TOLD ME SO

maybe Bail will namedrop her? I'm spiraling so hard

who cares about Perrin lmao no offense GIVE ME JYN

oh Dedra's ending though. damn. that's brutal

STOP WITH THE FORCE HEALER STOP IT!!

that's….. it? that was anti-climatic as hell ngl

NOOOOO IT'S NOT EVEN A POST CREDITS SCENE?! YOU ALL FUCKING LIED TO ME

well at least Bee is fine 🙃

I pretend I do not see 🙈

I'm sorry how can you not mention the main character of the movie you're making a prequel to even fucking once? how HARD would it have been to show them start looking for Jyn after Galen was mentioned? what the fuck are we doing

I also fucking love how they killed Cinta to give Vel luggage and then never fucking did anything with her. that's so cool

and in the end, the Cassian of R1 was nowhere to be found at all. thanks for nothing Tony Gilroy

[yolkchild]

Orel can still feel God's love wrap him like a blanket after he intentionally broke 9/10 commandments. We talk about his insane powerlevel and think of the necromancy, or him beating the shit out of his dad, but honestly that bit right there is his biggest strength of all—his faith moves mountains.

I am mad jealous! To go against God and end up, in his internalized belief, preemptively forgiven for it and given mercy and grace all the same, because Orel is so confident that he remains worthy of forgiveness and that this forgiveness will be fulfilled, that's really hard to do when you're raised in a culture of punishment and selective redemption, even harder so without falling into the traps of denial, willful ignorance and apathy towards your own evil. Thus I don't try to defend his breaking commandments for a thrill; the real meat of the episode is in how he's testing how far he'd need to go to lose that love, and then, what that feels like. Which is already a crazy premise in of itself because dogmatic theology has always made it easy to instill guilt for the most "mundane" elements of human experience, making the average religious experience one of aggression against the self. It picks at your your self-esteem, having to prove your worth, forced to fail less and less as to not stain your immortal soul (or reputation), policing over the little things until you're sanitized from the inside out. You give up eventually and, like everyone else, grow accustomed to frameworks of hypocrisy under an iron-fisted God, if not leave the faith entirely. But even after following a to-do list of evil deeds, despite everything he would've learned from his environment, Orel still fails to find that threshold. His trust in God's omnipotent omnitemporal love is so great that the threshold is almost nonexistent to him. It's not a kind of exploitative trust, where he feels free to wrong God as much as he likes, knowing he'll get away with it scot-free on Paul's faith bail. It's a kind of trust that highlights how much space Orel has to learn and grow, including the mistakes he makes, the evil he may or may not do along the way, ultimately guided to a life of harmony with God. That trust that they'll ultimately be together, and be well.

The forgiveness that Jesus Christ represents is not lost on Orel, and it's fun to see how he tries his best to reconcile this reading with what his modern-day Pharisees tell him.

[player1064]

Footy RPF Fictober, day 4 - that night at the hotel

also available on ao3

been losing my MIND today (and every other day) about michael owen having a massive unrequited crush on carra. so. here's this. enjoy!

---

Jamie’s pretty sure that Mo’s finally lost his mind.

And okay, okay, this is Mo he’s talking about – he’s always been a little bit weird, but ‘a little bit weird’ is not the same as ‘yelling at the new manager in front of the whole team because he’s tried to change roommate assignments’, and that’s exactly what he’d done the other week.

(He’d won that argument, for what it’s worth. So now Jamie’s sat in their shared hotel room watching La Liga coverage while Mo’s taking a phone call in the bathroom. Which is also a little bit weird, now that he thinks about it.)

Except – except. It had been his agent calling him, Jamie had seen the name flashing on the small phone screen. And Liverpool has always been the kind of club where the manager is king.

It’s probably nothing to worry about.

Mo walks back into the room after about ten minutes – shuffles, really – and he stands at the side farthest from Jamie and he stares down at his hands and he waits. He always does this – he thinks he’s being polite, not disturbing Jamie mid-whatever he’s doing, but it ends up doing quite the opposite. Jamie’s never had the heart to tell him.

He sighs and presses the remote to turn the TV off, then he turns to look at Mo. “Go on, then.”

Mo looks at him, and his eyes are sparkling, he’s biting back a smile as he says “Madrid want me.”

They’d just got back from the Euros a month or two ago, where Madrid had felt like a dirty word, like you couldn’t even say it for fear of creating another fracture in the already disjointed United gang.

And Jamie thinks: they bought Beckham when they knew they didn’t need another right-winger and he’s been playing like shit in centre-mid all season. And he thinks: Madrid already have Ronaldo. They have Raúl. They have Morientes. And he thinks: you’re just the shiny new toy they want to add to their collection and never, ever use. And he thinks: you’ll never come home again.

So he says all this to Michael, and Michael’s eyes go dark, and Jamie knows he’s said the wrong fucking thing.

This stupid, stupid boy. Jamie tries to fight his case, of course he does, but Mo – Mo is Mo. And Jamie is Jamie, and Stevie is Stevie, and just ‘cause Liverpool runs stronger in Stevie’s veins than football does it doesn’t mean that it’s the same for Mo. Just because Jamie can argue with Stevie ‘til he tells Chelsea to fuck off doesn’t mean Michael will ever listen to him.

Mo thinks he deserves better than what Liverpool can give him. He probably does. And now he thinks that Jamie thinks he can’t cut it, which means that now he’s going to try and prove him wrong.

“Like you wouldn’t go,” Mo spits out at one point during the ensuing argument, and it stops Jamie right in his tracks because – well – because he’s right.

Jamie and Michael are completely different from each other except for all the ways in which they’re not. Pride, ambition, obsession – never any of the good bits, that’s for sure, but it very suddenly hits him with full force that he has to let Mo do this, even if he thinks it’s a giant mistake. He has to let Mo do this.

He sits back down on his bed and slumps forwards, tries to will his heart rate to slow down, for the red in his skin to fade away. He grabs his water bottle and takes a few long gulps, then he runs his hands down his face and he looks back up at Mo and he says, “Jesus Christ, Michael.”

Mo’s bottom lip wobbles. “Jesus fucking Christ, Carra.”

“Yer gonna be a galactico.”

“Yeah.” Slowly, a tiny little hint of that sparkle starts returning to Mo’s eyes. “Yeah, guess I am.”

Jamie groans. “Fuck.”

“Fuck,” Michael breathes, and then Jamie makes the mistake of meeting eyes with him and suddenly –

The first thought that forces its way into Jamie’s head is Mo’s a good kisser, and then it’s why the fuck is Mo kissing me, and then it’s why the fuck am I kissing Mo back. Mo’s scrambled onto his lap and has his face cupped in his small hands, and the next thought Jamie manages to string together is eh, what the hell, and then he’s sinking back into the cushions and pulling Mo down on top of him.

His hands of their own accord reach up to spread across Mo’s back, and he leaves one firmly planted there while the other slips down, over his waist, his hips, until it comes to rest on his thigh. Or hold his thigh. Or grip his thigh so hard it’ll probably leave a bruise. Whatever.

Mo shifts his hips, just a tiny bit, but the movement sends a jolt right up Jamie’s spine. And none of this is like Mo, not even a little, and that’s when it finally, really hits him that –

“Fuck,” he breathes against Mo’s lips. He opens his eyes, tries to search for some kind of answer in Mo’s. “You’re really leaving, aren’t you?”

Mo stares right back at him for a long, drawn-out moment, then he squeezes his eyes shut and he nods.

Jamie nods too, more for himself than for Mo (whose eyes are still squeezed shut like he’s scared of what he might see if he opens them again). He takes a moment. He thinks.

He grabs the hem of Mo’s shirt and tugs it up over his head, runs his hands over the smooth skin of his back. Lets Mo get at his shirt, lets him look at him. Lets himself look at Mo. And then he kisses him again, and this time there’s a finality to it that makes it all feel just that little bit more urgent.

[rent-a-reviewer]

A Broken Time Capsule: Norwegian Wood and Nostalgia as a Facade

I'll start this new review with a few words of interest: Toru is an unreliable narrator, but not for the typical lenses used in media.

Here's the uncut version of the initial review, mostly ranting:

cw: mentions of sexual assault, misogyny, homophobia

4/28/25

"Jesus Christ, where do I even start?

Let's get the obvious out of the way, this is... well it's the book ever. In a lot of ways it mirrored my recent viewing of Taxi Driver, mostly in the construction of the falsities of romantic nostalgia (more for Norwegian Wood) and especially that of the nice guy paradigm. This whole book feels like some imperfect time capsule, and good lord does it feel unreliable through the lens of the man who thinks he's above the world because of his superior intellect and... good lord, "romancing skills". We are not dealing with characters so much as we're putting up with archetypes, and it feels like you're being subtly lied to the entire book through a facade of Toru's perspective. A lot of Murakami's book do this actually, steadily disappointing while giving you just enough good writing to make you believe the whole novel can be just as good. The sex scenes (if you can call them that) bring the story of nostalgia and grief to a striking halt to remind you that Haruki Murakami is interjecting and he's got some weird misogyny and objectification issues to work through. I'm tired and this man is giving me a quarter of an aneurysm. And don't even get me started on the fetishization of a woman's assault and the misguided aim towards.. being gay? This author is a case study of continuous disappointing views and should be studied, not enjoyed blindly. And yet I keep coming back for more..."

we good? we good.

5/9/25

Now, this says a lot, more than what I usually do actually, about the contents of the novel (mostly) and how cyclical and isolating the themes of grief, nostalgia as a lens of obfuscation, and especially misogyny and at times societal homophobia are. The issue with Nostalgia Wood lies not in the fact that the narrator is inherently giving us a very flawed and at times bigoted view of the story of losing a lover and friend, (in fact I'd even argue the unreliability of the narrator through his flaws gives the novel its few bits of breadth), but that those moments, those long gazes at young girls and scraping of teeth on sexual assault, portrayed as right and wrong for all the wrong reasons, brings the novel not only down but to a complete halt. There were many moments where I had to "look to the invisible camera" because of the sheer lack of context and/or necessity for certain scenes within the book because... why?.

This is a larger theme within Murakami novels (one that's been beaten to death), but one worth mentioning: the man can't write a woman to save his life. Gun to his head, rest in peace. The main feeling of this novel is it's extremely bogged down, much like Kafka on the Shore. The worldbuilding surrounding Murakami's novels, while beautiful and at times even ephemeral within the Japanese country sides, beaches, and cities within, reveal a rotten core due to the author's hand reaching in and tainting whatever it touches. It's as fascinating as it is frustrating, and it should be read with this in mind.

That's all! Any additional comments or review will be shared... somewhere else! If I ever feel like doing a re-read of this, bless my future self's soul, it'll be in a Re: column.