#all of the important moments that happen in their home

[rizsu]

ꪆ୧ ── REAP WHAT YOU SOW ┊ LOVE TO LOSE ﹑ JJK. ⤿ starring: gojo satoru x fem!reader.

꒰ heart to none ﹢ if only he knew karma would come back to bite his ass a few years later. now he misses his ex while she's moved on.

𖧷 · love, ‘su: nothing much!! just moments of him suffering

co-parenting with satoru truly isn't all butterflies. as reserved and respectful as he is (to a selected few), satoru never hesitated to taunt you whenever you mentioned going on dates.

“a date? hmm, good luck with that.”

“if it happens to kick off, good for you, but i don't want him near my child.”

“how exciting! i hope it fails.”

those are just some examples of his behaviour. he's vocal about disliking you and the idea of sharing you. had he known beforehand he'd become slightly possessive, he would've avoided you and relationships altogether.

loving someone his mind hates but his heart longs for isn't an experience he'd wish upon his worst enemy — it's too much. the wretched feeling in his chest deepens whenever he's with the kid; scenarios of you being beside him at that very moment flashes before his eyes, but his pride's too high to crash whatever you're doing.

that doesn't stop him from texting, however. he never had an issue with double—triple texting you. if he had something to say (which is never anything important), he'll say it.

satoru: hey.

satoru: did you forget you have a family at home?

satoru: my child's asleep btw, we had fun all day.

you: my* child. not yours.

satoru: so what am i, an elf on babysitting duties?

you: sure if that's what you want. now stop texting my phone.

satoru: what if i'm dying?

you: i'd pop some champagne. throw something on the grill. light up a cigarette, even.

satoru: you don't even like cigarettes.

you: exactly. now bye i'll be there for six.

yeah, there's no doubt that you'll never entertain him again. he, too, wouldn't entertain himself if he was in your position. sure, he was an ass in the relationship but— you're both older and wiser. maybe you can put the differences aside and come together? a flat no is what you'd answer.

satoru doesn't even hear from you often; most of your activity reports come from your child who excitedly tells their father the details, wishing he was there.

“you guys had fun. i wish i was there too, bub.”

a sentimental tone settled in his voice. he's suffering the consequences of his actions, and he desperately needs you to help him through it.

just like old times: you'd be there for him, going along with whatever he needed to calm down. whether it's wanting to be in you or on you— as long as your arms were wrapped around him.

but it's all a memory now. a bitter one.

do you show your vulnerable side to the guys you date, too? do you hold them the way you held him? do they even know what you like? do they know you the way he knows you?

jealousy, regret, longing— everything mixes in his mind. his stomach aches. it feels as though his insides are hollow.

he adores your child. they look mostly like him, but the personality stems from you. the attitude, tantrums, even the way they hold things — it's all you. he guesses the kid's observed you and eventually picked up your habits. satoru relates; after all, he still has some of your habits he picked up.

as the clock ticks on, his fingers hover over the keyboard on his phone. somehow, he found himself in your pinned chat— debating whether he should text or not. he's been typing and deleting for the past ten minutes. unless you're not on the app, there's no way you didn't notice the ‘typing...’ under his contact name.

satoru: i've been thinking.

(message deleted)

satoru: fuck your date let's get back together.

(message deleted)

satoru: or whatever you're doing right now. let me apologize — it's been years. our baby's four now.

(message deleted)

satoru: hey.

you: what's with these deleted messages?

you: are you okay?

he wonders. is he okay? would you come over if he said no? are you going to be mad if he re-sent what the deleted messages said?

satoru: uhhh yeah. everything's fine.

satoru: i'm bored that's why.

satoru: you should totally come over.

you: no.

you: talk to you later.

satoru: please? i'm serious.

you: fine.

satoru: might as well spend the night.

(message deleted)

satoru: thanks.

(message delivered)

“well fuck...” he sighs, raking his fingers through his hair. he doesn't have anything to say nor do with you. actually, he does — he has quite a few, but he wouldn't push your buttons. he'd love to, but the chances of him receiving a slap is high.

[almostfoxglove]

have Javier and reader ever talked about his relations when he was in Columbia? them being best friends and all. did she laugh it off? did she understand? I'm curious ☺️

HI SWEETHEART this made my day when I got it. I'm so sorry it took a while to answer but I hope you don't mind that I got a little carried away with this one... everything's weird and bad right now so I'm gonna post this and try to get some sleep - I hope you're taking care of yourself <3 thank you soso much for sending this ask, seriously it means the world. ily!! here's some tenderness for you.

javier confesses about colombia

an I'LL CARRY YOU drabble

Explicit (18+) | Javier Peña x f!reader | drabble 1.1k words CW: Allusion to canon-typical violence & trauma and two idiots being sickeningly in love.

You never push back on anything but his blame. 

headcanons and full drabble below the cut!

in ICY, javi leaves to colombia (the first time) at twenty-eight (seen in part II). between that moment and when he returns aged thirty-six (seen in part I), they have no contact because her phone number changes, so when he calls her right after leaving (seen in dark heart), he thinks she's icing him out for good. *sobs gently*

we know he disappears again at the end of part I and doesn't return until he comes home for good at the end of part II. between those two meetings, they also have no contact - so his girl doesn't hear a thing about colombia (and by extension, all his sexual escapades), though she follows the news.

in the year after his return (all of part III) I don't think much of what happened down there comes up. javi's traumatized, still acclimating to civilian life while his girl's engaged *sobs harder*, and I imagine he's scared to admit his role in all the death and violence. if / when she asks, I think he keeps it pretty vague and chooses not to talk about the women he was involved with (they aren't together yet, after all)

POST-FINALE HOWEVER, javi tells her pretty much everything in little chunks at a time, including about all the women he slept with and what he knows of what became of them (I imagine the helena story is an especially tearful / difficult retelling, but it's important to him that she knows the truth). he's pretty terrified it'll scare her off, but I think we know her better than that.

here's a peek at what I imagine part of that conversation looked like <3

It’s the middle of the night and he’s not yet buying it, still has that little wrinkle above his nose that folds when he scowls cutting deep into his brow. Propped against the wall in his little twin bed, when you insist Javier’s dark eyes dodge yours and fall to the hands that knot themselves in his lap, anxious. But anxious is fine—just means he’s talking. Cutting off slabs of those missing years like meat from a bone for you to carry.

You’re grateful to be given anything at all. You know how deep trust like this really goes, unseen but branching. Mycelium underground. 

You never push back on anything but his blame. 

“Baby,” you say softly, and his jaw ticks as the word melts him a touch. 

His chin might flicker briefly like his body longs to cry, but if it does he wrestles it back before meeting you with dark, helpless eyes. “You don’t know,” he says, no cruelty in it. His voice not much more solid than a whisper and slaughtered red by guilt.

“Know you though,” you say.

The sigh that cuts out of him could shatter you. Javier turns to stretch out length-wise on the bed, his socked feet hanging off the end. You moved in weeks ago but haven’t gotten around to upgrading to a bigger mattress and part of you believes—though you’d never say it—that he’s waiting to get through all this first. Like the hurt of him needs to be here to do it: in the bed where you both once were small, held. So you allow it, take turns groaning in the daylight hours about your backs and hips and necks, and at night you hold each other ‘cause you have to, to fit in this little thing. Not that you wouldn’t, anyway. Not that either of you know how to sleep without the weight of the other’s body anymore. 

You always did sleep best beside him.

When he’s settled, you slip down to lie against him, propped up on one elbow with your torso folded over his and one arm draped across his hips. Javier sighs, pleased by the weight of you, and closes his eyes. 

“Was different there,” he says, after a long moment. “M’different now.” 

Outside the crickets are rioting again, ribbiting their threaded symphony. You push the hair back from his face—more pewter than ever but so familiar in its waves and curls—and watch the twitching of his face, all the microscopic ways he wrestles with some unnamed memory. 

You give him his time. All this patient, open air until he swallows and starts to say, “Didn’t do right—” 

It isn’t that his voice cracks, just that it stops all at once like someone’s lifted the needle off a record. Though you don’t know precisely what he’s trying to say, you sense its jagged outline. Can feel the memory slicing him anytime he speaks. Below you, Javier clears his throat. “Didn’t do right by them.”

Deep breath, then you push.

“Did you hurt them,” you ask, your voice quiet but solid, firm.

Though his brows fold low, his eyes stay closed. Swallows again. “No,” he says.

“Did you touch them without their consent,” you go on. “Do anything they didn’t want.”

“No,” Javier replies.

“Were you cruel?”

He shifts, uneasy. Mutters back a weak and whispered, “No.” Sometimes he has trouble with this one and stumbles over the answer, but tonight he’s got it right.

You know all this, of course. You’re not asking for you because you already know the answers—know him, whether he wants to admit it right now or not. Doesn’t matter that he’s different now; so are you. So is everybody. Tragedy doesn’t let a goddamn thing stay the same. And while you’ve always known you’ll never see nor fathom the whole, vicious picture—what living down there through years of violence laid ghost and seed beneath his skin—there’s not a bone in your body that believes him malicious. 

At first he worried, but you don’t care about the bodies he lost himself in. All the women he held and had. Sort of surprised you too, but you didn’t learn of them until after you’d found each other again, for good this time, and so what was there to be afraid of? That there’d been, in the worst of his agony, warm hands and welcome bodies? 

No, you don’t care. Doesn’t matter the number. 

You’re glad that at least for small, clustered minutes, he wasn’t always alone.

“Did you try?” you ask. This is the big one, the one you know hurts most for him to hear. “To help them.”

In the turquoise cover of early night, Javier’s face crumples in. Forehead canyoned by lines, his eyes swallowed by miserable, crinkled Vs. You see no glossy tears slip loose but they must be in there, hidden under his lashes when for so long he holds his breath like he can’t trust his own lungs or own mind. While you wait, you lay one palm in the center of his chest and the shimmer of moonlight winks off your hand, reflected in the flat face of a garnet, making silver of red and pearl. It feels, for the moment it’s bright, a little like having his mother back. Like you can feel her in the room, holding him with you.

Javier’s heart hammers beneath your touch, then his hand bolts up to cover yours as if to keep you there. As if you’d ever pull away. “I—”

You press down gently, give him your warmth, your weight, and his hand tightens in kind.

“I wanted to,” he croaks.

“Did you try?”

And it breaks him, chokes him. One wet sound punches out of his chest but he’s tough, soft bits and all. Something in him’s always just known how to hold on. How to take it, for better or worse. But it’s for the better here, you’re certain. Because he won’t survive believing himself evil—you see that clearly, illuminated like a streetlamp casting gold over a night-dark road. If he doesn’t see that he tried, doesn’t let himself feel it, one of these days the guilt will kill him.

It’s just the one ragged breath, then he pebbles apart perfectly still. Steady, you leaden your weight on his sternum, press down a little harder, and Javier grips your hand with greater need. All his warring goes on quietly, invisible in all but his head.

“M’right here,” you tell him gently.

He nods, his eyes still shut. His breaths slow and agonizing.

“Right here,” you say.

Together you wait for the spell to pass, for the storm to clear, until finally the clouds part over him and he sucks one longer, deeper breath, dragging all the room’s air into his lungs. There it is, there he is, solidifying under your palm. Seaming back together, stained glass made new. 

“I tried,” Javier breathes.

His face unfurls and the deep lines once carved with a knife fall smooth. The wrinkles stay of course, all the evidence of his life, but they’re softer now. You trace the crows feet at the corner of his eyes with your thumb and find his skin hot and damp. 

“I know you did, baby,” you whisper to him. “You tried.”

Suddenly his arms fly up and crush you to his chest—so startled, you yelp and can’t help but chuckle as his grip tightens and tightens. You let him squeeze you, your arms trapped under his, and hum softly when you feel his nose against your hair. Carefully he inhales, then slow he exhales: something he’s picked up in his sessions, attended twice a month. Which is how you know that although he’s fallen silent, he’s busy in his mind reminding himself of frivolities. All the tiny bits he must have missed in those long, distant years he spent away from you, believing you hated him. 

You imagine cut grass and July sunshine, beer bottles ice cold on the porch with his pop,

and rolling cigarettes in the bed of the pickup at sixteen, laughing at the sour clouds choking out of you when you couldn’t hold your smoke,

and birthday parties,

and your hand, at every age, in his.

He knows better now, that you never hated him and never could. Knows too that you’ve loved him all the years he’s loved you and will all the years you have left.

Eventually you feel the air shift as he comes home into his body. With his chest smushed tight against the shell of your ear, you’re half asleep, adrift in the deep throb of his pulse. You feel his mustache, the graze of his lips, and the quiet murmur of his voice calling you another name. New, these last weeks. It still surprises you, the sweetness of mi amor on his tongue, in his mouth.

“Get some sleep,” Javier murmurs as his arms go slack around you without pulling away.

“Only if you do,” you mumble in reply, eyes feathering open just long enough to catch the last of the sky’s deep blue. Then they’re closed again. Everything is warm and black.

“M’right behind you,” he says, and soon you’re both asleep.

dividers by @saradika-graphics <3 tag list below!

@pedritosgfreal @thundermartini @guiltyasdave @jolapeno @reluctanthalfwayoptimism 

@myownwholewildworld @sunnytuliptime @indiegirlunited @anoverwhelmingdin @pedrospatch

@bergamote08 @harriedandharassed @casssiopeia @sweetpascal @half-moon16 

@noisynightmarepoetry @theoraekenslover @luxurychristmaspudding @kyberblade @toomanytookas 

@itsokbbygrl @wannab-urs @milla-frenchy @yopossum @beezusvreeland

@katw474 @bluesweaters15 @jessthebaker @encasedinobsidian @ppascalrain

@yxtkiwiyxt @schnarfer @bbyanarchist @amanitacowboy @iknowisoundcrazy

@whiskeyneat-coffeeblack @missladym1981 @ro-nahime-things @helenanell

[jameui]

THE BOY NEXT DOOR

PAIRING: ENHYPEN's Park Jongseong x M!Reader

GENRE: Smut, Fluff, Angst

WARNING: i guess some intense smutty action ✨, not proof read

SUMMARY: Park Jongseong. The name is known widely as the infamous fuckboy of the 4th floor in your apartment building. He insisted he shares a room with you for the night as he is being stalked. What's the worst that could happen?

Another night where you had your headphones on for a couple of hours now, knowing that your nextdoor neighbor was at it, again. Fucking horny boys and girls in his apartment room. In fact, it seemed to happen too frequently that you pretty much caught onto his schedule when he would start having his fun that you even had your alarm for it on just in case you forget about all of it.

Damn, Park Jongseong was one horny guy.

After that, he would throw them out of his room and leave them there almost naked, giving zero shits whether they would get fucked again on their way back home. Besides, it was just a one time thing. Practically, fuck and go. No strings attached. What a heartless guy, I must say. After taking advantage of their heart, he just leaves them as though they were just toys for him to play with.

But, of course, those were only the stories you heard. You knew Jongseong more than anyone can think.

Your eyes travelled its way up to the digital clock you owned above your closet after staring at your phone, scrolling through your feed to pass time. You saw that it was already half past six in the evening and that's usually the time when Jongseong would always finish.

You wanted to make sure first that he was actually done, pulling on one side of your headphones. When you thought it was finally quiet, you slowly took it off and sighed to yourself. "Finally."

You got off your bed to move to the mini fridge you have where you stored all your bottled water, since you loved drinking cold water rather than lukewarm. Soon, there was a knock on your door which got you feeling confused since you weren't really expecting any visitor.

You heard another knock bringing you to your front door to open the door for the person outside of your room. "Who is..." You trailed off when you saw your next door neighbor standing in front of you. "Jongseong?" You heard a loud bark from beside him, later noticing his pet dog that made you coo at how the cute creature looked like.

She was wearing a pair of sunglasses which you knew Jongseong had put on her himself while she wore a very cute shirt with the tag 'I'M THE BEST DOG' written on the back of it. You kneeled down to match the height of it and started to pet her, Charlotte, as you remembered it, wagging her tail happily.

"Y/N, can you do me a favor?" You heard the taller male speak out, you looked up at him with a smile. Jongseong looked like he was hesitating to say what he had in his mind to you, judging by the way he would stumble through his words or how he would open his mouth to say something only to shut them close and repeat.

Without looking at him you give him a soft laugh, all the while giving Charlotte the best belly rub who was now lying on her back. "Speak up, Park," you said, with Jongseong hesitating for the nth time. You paused for a moment facing up towards the other male, your head tilted over to the side a little. "I can't read minds, you know," You joked in an attempt to lessen what Jongseong is feeling.

Jongseong sighed, blushing due to his embarrassment. Your words were all that he needed, pushing him to tell you the tiny favor he would like to ask of you. "Well, you see. It's er... can I and Charlotte crash at your place for the night?" Jongseong stuttered a little, trying to compromise, thinking of the right words to make it seem less inappropriate. "It's very important and I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to do," he quickly added.

You rolled your eyes at him, then standing back up knowing just how it had come to this. "Let me guess. Another stalker?" You asked him in a teasing manner, Jongseong immediately shaking his head in denial. You raised him a brow while crossing your arms.

Jongseong was still pressed on denying it, but the look on your face made him do otherwise. He could only sigh in defeat and hang his head low whilst nodding his head looking like a dejected dog, his shoulders slumped down. You gave him a pat on top of his head, practically on top of your toes.

You opened the door for him to enter, gesturing for him to get inside. "Come on in," you welcomed the male into your place, the blonde male replying with a muttered 'thank you' and a smile. Once he's settled inside, you close the door behind you. "Just don't use my apartment room as your new strip club."

Jongseong quickly snapped his head toward you and shook his head. "I promise you none of that will happen," Jongseong reassured you, while you took something out of your dresser's drawer. He hears a soft laugh from you, the taller male realizing that you were just teasing him, making him frown.

"I know. I trust you," you told him before you threw to him a spare key that you kept with you in case you lost the one you're currently using. You popped a loli into your mouth and sucked down the flavor of the sweets. "So, how'd you get in this situation? Again?" You asked him, walking towards your bed and sat on top of it.

Jongseong contemplates, before he looks back at you and your eyes stared back at him with full anticipation. He lets out a sigh. "Well, you see. Tonight, isn't that normal night," he answered, but you didn't completely understand what he meant to which you just stayed silent for, as a signal for the male to continue. "Believe it or not, I didn't bring anyone today because I'm having a test coming up tomorrow," he continued.

"That... still doesn't explain to me why you're getting stalked," you subtly persuade the male to tell you the leading cause of the unnecessary attention, but it didn't have to take any of that since Jongseong is willing to tell you everything. I mean, EVERYTHING.

He laughs softly at how impatient you are. "Just wait and listen," he mocks you in the most polite way possible, afraid that your attitude is brushing onto him. Though you don't meet often, you're the one who practically saves him from your lousy neighbors. So, it's starting to kinda reflect onto him.

You raised your arms and let the male do the speaking. "I asked to be recommended a tutor and found out one of the guys who applied is actually one of my past side flings. The same guy I told you about. The one who endlessly obsessed over me," Jongseong pointed out and you thought for a moment before you snapped your finger and points at Jongseong, your mouth agape in shock. "Yeap, yeah, exactly. I was shocked as well that he found any of my socials. It still got me thinking how he did it." Jongseong seeped air through his teeth, cocking his head to the side.

You got up from where you're sat and patted the male's back. "I may not be able to do anything about.. this. But, you'll be safe here inside," you stated out and went to pick up your towel from the rack to take a shower. "I'll only take a couple of minutes. I better not catch you peeking, Park,"

"Oh, god. Please." Jongseong scoffs at your cocky attitude, then he hears laughter from you before the door to your bathroom is shut closed. As soon as you got hidden inside of your bathroom, Jongseong hears the light taps of Charlotte's paw on the floor approaching him. She had something in here mouth. "Charlotte, don't go snooping around someone else's stuff," Jongseong gently told his pet dog who threw the item across the floor and let out a bark.

Jongseong looks at it confused. "What's this?" The male picks it up and draws it near to him. It looked like a pendant. Only it wasn't. He noticed the small crack around it, probably an opening and ran his finger over it, before it slowly opens and a music plays.

'Dear, don't fret. You are wonderful.'

It was a small holographic message. It looked too advanced, technologically speaking. Who could have made this? It's... brilliant. It feels like a memory locked in a device to help you remember. "This is... incredible. Don't you think so, too, Charlotte?" The female dog barks in reply and pants happily with her tongue out.

After a few more minutes, you stepped out of the bathroom with a fur robe on while you dried your hair with a towel. You catch the male staring, or admiring rather, at something and had a huge smile on his face. He looked very fascinated. "Whatcha got there, Jay?" The male didn't reply and continued to stare at the item. You chuckled.

You make your way towards him and only then that Jongseong is able to acknowledge your presence. "Oh, you're done? Sorry, I sorta got distracted by this. Whatever this is," Jongseong told you, the smile still etched onto his face. "It's so amazing," Jongseong makes a comment and your face splits into a smile.

You sat on the nearest chair beside the taller male and spoke up. "My dad made it for me," you shared to the male, whose mouth turned an 'o' shape in shock, turning his head to you. "He created it so I'd never feel homesick, but it only made it worse." You let out a light laugh, head hanging a little low, unable to look at Jongseong who found sympathy in you.

"You have a really great father, Y/N," Jongseong said with a soft smile. You lift your face up to look at the other male and decided that that was enough sentiment for the day and chose to tease Jongseong, again.

"And who told you to go snooping around my room?" You smirked, making Jongseong widen his eyes and point at his pet dog, who whimpers and lay flat on the floor while she covered her face with her paws, which you found incredibly cute as though she's able to understand your language. At this point, maybe she does. "I'm just kidding," you stood up from where you are sat and moved to your closet. You are about to get changed.

On instinct, Jongseong turns on his back and puts the pendant down on your table, but there is one thing he couldn't get off his mind. "I'm sorry. Y/N, just minutes ago, did you just call me 'J'?" Jongseong scrunched his face, not able to trust his ears. He might have misheard things.

As you threw on what you could see as cute in your closet, you replied with a hum. "Yeah, sorry. I should have thought first before I spoke. Does it bother you?" Your brows furrowed. You really had the the idea that you and Jongseong are already that close to be calling each other by nicknames.

Jongseong shakes his head in reply, but guessed you couldn't see. "No, not a even a bit," he answered. "It's just new to me, but I guess I'll get used to it eventually," he continued, before he heard the closet door close and the bed creak on your weight which could have only meant that you're done. "Are you finished?" He questioned for safety measures.

"Yeah. You can turn around now," you replied. Jongseong cautiously turns around, making you raise a brow. "So, you're scared of seeing a clothed body than a nude?" You scoffed.

"No, no. It's not like that. I mean you're a very close friend. And if I were to see you naked accidentally that would mean an awkward atmosphere around us," Jongseong full on explained and hearing that the male considered you as a close friend made your heart swell in happiness.

You propped yourself down on your bed with your hands. "Point taken," you told Jongseong. "By the way, if you didn't bring anyone with you tonight, then what was the noise in your room all about?" Your curiosity got the best of you as you looked over at Jongseong who had his lips pushed into a pout and a blush on his face.

Oh, it's those kind of days.

You breathed in air through your nose and tapped your feet on the floor. "Well, Jay. I have to stop by the convenience store. Anything you want?" You stood up to take out your wallet and fix a few things where your other important items are hidden.

The taller male lit up at the mention of having to go outside. "Can I come with you?" Jongseong asked, a little too excited. Almost like a kid who wants to go only for the car ride.

You turn to him, a big smile riding on his lips, before you return to securing your things. "Uhm, are you sure? Wouldn't that be a little dangerous?" You started to make your way to the clothing rack where some of your coats are hanging. "Considering you have a stalker that's on the loose," you stated to which made Jongseong knit his brows.

"Damn those pricks," Jongseong whispered under his breathe, still loud enough for you to hear though. He tried looking for excuses, but only found the shorts you are wearing. "And how about you? You can't possibly be going out with just that," he pointed out.

You looked down and faced him with an 'are you kidding me' look. "What about it? They're loose jersey shorts. You should be more concerned about yourself. You could catch a cold with what you're wearing. A tank top and thigh length shorts." you told him yet Jongseong was already on his way out with Charlotte. "What is up with this guy?"

In the end, even when you felt skeptical with other male, you still let him sleep over for the night. When you arrived, the male kept on insisting he stayed. The poor male looked shaken up by something you can't determine, so here you are in one bed with Jongseong who is barely in anything, but a boxer after you tried to resist him from sleeping on the floor and it made falling asleep hard for you.

It ain't helping either that you used to have a big fat crush on the older male when you first arrived here in this building. Keyword: USED. After you realized he had a fuckboy tendency and it just didn't seem quite right to you.

You let out a sigh and your eyes went over to the time on your clock. '2:31 A.M', it reads and all you could do is groan silently, your eyes clenched shut at your distress.

You opened the bedside lamp to at least illuminate a small portion of the room as you rubbed your stinging eyes. You feel so tired, but your thoughts are circling around your head endlessly like your own brain is trying to torture you, but you have no choice. You brought yourself onto this and now you have to pay.

You looked over to the other side to see Jongseong sleeping so soundly. Like a baby, safe in his mother's arms. At the sight, a small smile made its way up to your lips. "At least someone's able to get some sleep," you muttered out with a scoff, before you adjusted the blanket, so it covered him comfortably. He might be cold already considering that you put the temperature down a few degrees down, yet he still had the strength to get almost completely naked.

You watched him snore lightly. He looks so peaceful. Has he always looked this good in this light? You thought to yourself, as your gentle grin stayed on your face.

You gave a sigh and moved a few hair strands that got in the way of his face, but were immediately stopped by the older male who took ahold of your wrist which made you flinch. His grip was gentle.

You quickly averted your attention to his eyes which you felt started to bore holes into your skin. His face is dimly lit by the lamp on your table, but he still looked so ethereal. "Y/N, what are you doing to me?" His sudden question made you look at him confused.

He sat up from the bed, all the while the hem of the blanket falling to his waist which gave you a just right view of his structured abdominal muscles. "I... I don't understand," you replied to him, Jongseong sighing audibly loudly.

"Ever since you arrived in this building, nothing ever went well for me," Jongseong continued, that got you taken aback as you pulled your arm away from the male whose eyes lingered onto you.

You raised him a brow, feeling literally offended at what he had just said. After you let him spend the night at your apartment, this is the thanks you get from him? "Excuse me? Be at least grateful—"

"Let me finish," Jongseong cuts you off mid-sentence with a chuckle and you folded your arms on your chest and you gave him the stage, letting him hit the microphone with whatever he had to say. "See, this will sound weird, just giving you a heads up, but I just... I can't get it up," he stated.

You scoffed at him in disbelief. "And that's supposed to be MY fault?" For your entire existence you've never had a person blame you for their erectile dysfunction and hearing this from Jongseong—the male you only considered your friend right now—is blaming you that he couldn't get an erection because of you. That's just completely fucked up.

"Yes," Jongseong replied, rather more solemn than bluntly. Your jaw dropped at his reply and your instinct was to just kick him out of your apartment, but he looked like he had a lot of things going on inside his head. Before you could even reply, Jongseong faces you with a bittersweet smile riding on his lips. "Because I like you, Y/N. I've liked you since... I don't know, before we even started talking which was like almost two years ago. And I couldn't get you out of my head. I didn't want to make you feel sexualized or in any form, sexualize your image. I can't do that to you, Y/N," he said, ending with a tone that told you he is truly genuine and truly cared about you.

You could only look at him with furrowed brows, your mouth opened, but unable to make a noise. You were shocked, to say the least. In the middle of the night, all because Jongseong had a problem with his hormones, confessed to you out of nowhere. Who wouldn't be so surprised with that sudden news?

"Jay, I... uhm," you let out, hesitant.

"It's fine, Y/N. You really don't have to say anything if you don't feel like it. Besides, hearing a reply without much of any—" he is stopped the same way, but you've put a finger on his lips to make him go quiet.

"I don't need time to think about everything, Jay," you replied, a small smile on your lips. You trailed off, trying to find out how to start, but you thought giving it to him directly would be the best way. "I like you, Park Jongseong. Less than you think, though. Look, I don't know when it actually started, but it gave me the ick that you're actually a call boy, but I thought I would have done the same for a check," you laughed lightly.

"Uh, thanks?" Jongseong let out, one brow raised upward.

You sighed. "What I'm trying to say is that, I like you, Jay. I love your personality, I love the way you care for me, your dog, your family, or the way you'd always update me about—" Jongseong gave you no chance to finish what you're saying and spare you no time to adjust as he grabbed the back of your neck and planted his lips onto yours.

You were quick to process as you melted into the kiss, your eyes shutting closed while your hands instinctively found themselves in his soft bleached locks, your fingers entangled within it. Your heads and lips perfectly sync with each other, untamed thoughts circling around your head like a broken record. They were unruly, but it somehow made your heart feel full.

It's like on a winter night and you start the fireplace to warm the room. You don't even remember any sense dawning over you as you just let yourself in to the spur of the moment as though your whole life depended on it.

A few minutes in and Jongseong decides to deepen the kiss, as he slides one hand under the pit of your leg, rising ever so slowly as he lifted the bottom hem of the jersey shorts you wore, a soft moan moving past your mouth, the older male swallowing the sweet sound. You feel one side of his lips curve into a smirk, satisfied with the reaction he received from you.

You were probably gonna regret this later on; being treated like one of Jongseong's clients, but you wanted his touch. You NEEDED his touch. You craved everything he can give. You yearned for his warmth. You need him, in general.

It's like he's some kind of drug that made you suddenly feel addicted with one taste and you know for a fact that you'll never be able to get out of this sensation.

Jongseong nipped at your bottom lip, asking for permission. As a reply to his request, you slowly parted your lips for access. With not much time to lose, Jongseong (gently) delved into the depths of your wet cavern, cupping your cheeks as he started to search for your tongue.

Thinking the placement was uncomfortable, the blonde male repositions himself, so he's fully facing you, all the while never breaking contact. Your tongues danced together, both in different pace, but found a way to synchronize with each other, as though harmonizing.

Whilst your tongues played with each other, your hands went down to feel his biceps, which you found attractive with all the muscles surrounding it. Your fingers smoothly glided over the protruding skin of his arms, still too high on the kiss to even focus somewhere else other than the shape of his lips. It's like they were carved to fit yours perfectly.

For a breather, Jongseong was the first to pull away, breaking the kiss as you start to already miss the intimacy. Hearing a whimper unconsciously leave your throat, Jongseong chuckles. "In a second, angel. We still have to breathe, you know," he smirks. Right now, his sight of you just raised the gauge of his sex drive higher.

As everything had started to heat things up inside the room already, you could no longer wait. You're feeling hot and the way he looked so sexy just made you want him to just take you; make him claim you as his only possession.

While Jongseong tried to find a better position, you sunk down to become face to face with his clothed crotch. This went unnoticed by the male, not until he felt a shiver run down his spine when he felt your finger om the waistband of his boxers that he looks at you, while your eyes were already clouded with lust.

"Y/N, what are you—ah," he moans at the contact of his clothed member on your open palm, teasing him before you pulled down the only item that restricted you from its full glory, his cock coming in contact with the cold air of your room. "Shit.." The male let out when he felt your tongue line the underside of his cock.

"A-ah, Y/N. I didn't—ah," Jongseong sighed at the pure pleasure you were giving him. Out of pure desperation to aatosfy the taller male, you fit the tip of his thick rod in your mouth, which earned you a hiss from the blonde as a hand found its way on top of your hair. "Shit, Y/N, ah... stop teasing," He moaned, feeling your tongue swirl around his girth, the older male pushing his head back, feeling so much bliss.

Soon enough, your chest swelled with pride as you made a spur of the moment decision to take the whole male inside your mouth, while Jongseong hitched in place, an electrifying sensation running down his back. "FUCK!" He moaned out, unconsciously pulling at your hair.

You bobbed your head up and down, only then taking the few inches you could take inside your mouth (after a realization that he was too big to take whole) and jerked him off to compensate for it. Jongseong seeped air through his mouth, peering down at you only to see that your eyes was looking up at him as he had the perfect view of your lips perfectly curled around his cock.

He got more turned on by the sight of you and could no longer hold himself back anymore, raising his hands to hold onto the back of your head and forced his whole length inside your throat, which made you gag and choke, earning a satisfied whistle from Jongseong who chuckled and caressed your beautiful face. "I can see that you were trying, Y/N, but you weren't trying hard enough." The male smirked, then went on with his plan to assault your unaccustomed throat in a fast pace, tears forming in your eyes as they rolled themselves at the back of your head over the euphoria that Jongseong brought to you by constantly hitting the back of your throat.

"Shit, fuck," Jongseong cursed through gritted teeth, the vibrations of your moan only sending a satisfying sensation to his girthy dick, you knew immediately that he was feeling good. "So, you were waiting for this to happen all this time, huh?" He questioned you, not stopping with his erratic movements.

If you hadn't lost all your senses, you wouldn't have let yourself be treated like you're a thirsty slut, but the pleasure is unbearable and at any moment you felt like your mind will finally break.

Without thinking much about it, you nodded your head in reply and the smirk on Jongseong's face only grew wider. "Me too, babe," He said and continued on violating your mouth, resorting to a more inhuman speed and laughing darkly at how easily you submitted to him, liking the idea that if he ever felt pent he could easily just run to you and you'd just let him use you, but of course he wasn't a bad guy to take advantage of you. It's just an idea. An impossibly dream, if you must.

"Damn, angel. Didn't know your mouth could do so much wonder," Jongseong groaned, you holding onto his thighs for dear life, hoping your neck wouldn't break at how strong his thrusts were.

You knew how much Jongseong is capable of being rough with anyone, he literally goes down with any sex play—it's not eavesdropping, it's overhearing—but damn, you never knew him being this rough with you would be so fucking hot. Even having to experience it firsthand.

"Maybe we can do more than just this, Y/N. Weren't for us having to rest for our class tomorrow." It was nice of the male to think of your welfare, but it already reached this far and he'll let go with just a simple blowjob? You wished he's just joking.

Jongseong's pace went unbelievably animalistic, suddenly not caring about how you were now crying due to the pleasure, finding it fun how those tears stained your cheeks like they were the perfect decoration on your face, him abusing your throat with all the strength he had left until he started to convulse and buried his dick deep inside your throat and filled your mouth up with his cum, feeding you every last drop, not spilling anything as it ran down yoir throat.

He was a panting mess as he stared down at you, finding it adorable that you were so fucked up and was made a mess of by him.

He thrusts a few more time to ride out his high, before he caressed your cheeks softly, then pulling his now flaccid cock and puts a finger below your chin to lift your face up. "Not a single drop, darling. Open your mouth," He demanded of you, you complied as you opened your mouth with you tongue rolled out.

Jongseong, feeling satisfied, bent down to your height and kissed you on the forehead. "Well done, angel," he said, then fixed himself up and helped you up to your feet with a slight chuckle. "You're already weak to your knees? We still haven't even got to that part yet, Y/N," He teased you that immediately made you blush.

"Sh-shut up, Park," You told him, your voice a little hoarse, Jongseong being the reason why.

The next morning you woke up, with your eyes still feeling heavy and the memory of what happened im the middle of the night engraved in your head.

You soon realize that the bed was empty and the space beside you where Jongseong slept has now gone cold. It dawned over you like a bucket of cold water. "I should have known. I was just one of his clients," you mumbled to yourself.

"You're not a client, Y/N," a voice started from somewhere in the room, which startled you as you got up immediately and saw Jongseong by the window reading a book, in a bath robe.

Jongseong looks at you and you did as well. You were in different clothes. Did he get you changed? "I, uhm, I thought you left," you stumbled in your words. You didn't want to sound too desperate.

"I wouldn't. I would never," he replied, before he closes the book and approached you with I want to be your partner." Jongseong looks at you with his eyes full of sincerity and truthfulness. "If you're doubting my words, I'll prove to you by my actions. I will stop these vices," he stated out with determination in his voice.

"Jay... you weren't being stalked, were you?" You asked him which took the male aback. "You just wanted to spend time with me," you concluded that made him blush a deep red color. You found it cute at how he gets very flustered easily, before you threw your hands around him for a hug. "And I would have done the same if I were you," you said as the taller male, wrapped his arms around you to keep you close to him.

[surging-eyes-seeing-through]

[Vocal tells were fine for Apollo. Maybe they could be painfully obvious, depending on the person, but it was something he could deal with. But the physical tells... Apollo closed his eyes, after watching Klavier for a few seconds. More headache wasn't something he cared for, especially not on top of the one that was already inflicting him with pain. He could still talk and hear, at the least, and that was all that really mattered.]

"...I'm resting, don't worry. I'll just-"

[Before he could continue mumbling, Klavier started to pull him to his feet, getting a rather frustrated noise in response. His eyes opened as well, though stayed squinted, the rest of his face scrunched in exasperation. Importantly, Clay's jacket remained clutched in his left hand, the grip almost seeming reflexive.

Public image was important to him, sure. But in the comfort of his own home, Apollo could be... a little self-neglectful, at times. Everything that happened recently certainly didn't help the fact... did he look thinner, or was that just a trick of the light?]

"...Urgh... hey! I was gonna stay there, the floor's perfectly fine-"

[The thought was cut short, the moment he thought over Klavier's statement, again. While exhaustion still dominated his voice, a thin, nervous timbre joined in.]

"...A call? To who. I-I'm fine, I don't... don't call anyone."

Loading. . .

> For: Murderpollo > Crossover scenario, if the mod is interested.

Scarlet Noise AU Successfully Downloaded!

"....Hase? You.."

"Ach, wait. You're not my Apollo. You're.. different, ja. A pleasure to meet you, then."

"..."

[For a moment, Apollo remains silent, staring rather intently at Klavier. It seems that, perhaps, he's perceiving..? Whatever the case is, his face relaxes a little eventually, before he starts to talk.]

"...Not your Apollo, huh? Well, you're acting a bit odd compared to the Prosecutor Gavin I'm used to, so... that makes enough sense."

(It seems crazy, but... a lot of weird crap has happened recently. I can accept... whatever you'd call this situation.)

[Even though it doesn't seem like he's actively perceiving anything, Apollo is continuing to eye him in what is seemingly anticipation.]

[thedream14]

Bueno 👀 Thank you soooo much for all your messages of support !!! Since you liked the idea, I'll give you some more context about the Tiny universe !!!

DISCLAIMER: I didn’t create all this lore. I wish I know who did it first. I just adapted it from different fics I have read 👀

****

Nobody knows how the Tinys originated, it’s believed that their existence is just the work of fate. A nice way to link all the soulmates within the multiverse !!!

Tinys are an exact mini representation of a person's soulmate. Usually, they don’t measure more than 4 inches. They are very fragile and sensitive creatures, therefore, they need a lot of love and care. Tinys only provide affection and company to their soulmate until the moment they manage to find their human version. After that, the respective Tinys come together tying the eternal bond of the soulmates.

Tinys emulate the complete personality of their human version. Likes, dislikes, gestures, actions, decisions, dreams, illusions, dressing, etc. However, they can’t lie. They only show the true emotions and intentions of the human they represent. They are the most honest and vulnerable form of a person.

To survive, they don’t need food, only the affection and attention from their soulmate.

To know if a Tiny needs more love, they come with a love thermometer inside their welcome boxes. This thermometer increases or decreases depending on the love that the Tiny receives from its destined.

If the thermometer shows low temperatures, the Tiny weakens to the point of death. This happens because the Tiny feels rejected by its soulmate. Basically, Tinys dies from a broken heart.

If a Tiny dies, the humans soulmates are doomed to never meet. Something inside the humans breaks, leaving an irreparable void. Therefore, it’s VERY important to take care and provide for the needs of the Tiny assigned. They should never feel abandoned.

All Tinys arrive to their soulmate in a small box, which becomes the Tiny's home. Its interior is a replica of the real room of its human version. It contains several items that relate to the personality of the soulmate. The Tiny's destined one may or may not throw away the box. Many people keep it, as it allows them to explore a little more of the Tiny's environment.

Finally, if the human version of a Tiny dies, the little creature disappears, as the connection with its soulmate ceases to exist.

——

Logan & Tiny Wade

Logan still remembers how the first few weeks with his lovely and loud Tiny were like !!!

When he received his box, he was very excited. He had always dreamed of that moment. He wanted to meet the person he would spend the rest of his life with.

***

During his childhood, he always fantasized about his soulmate. At school, his teachers would say that Tinys could only offer a unique and sincere love. They also gave instructions on how to care for those creatures and how they should protect them until they found their human version.

The teachers always made jokes about how easy that task would be, since they lived in a small town. There weren't many options. Marriages between the same families and so on.

All his friends would talk about his Tinys. How they were beautiful women from good families, trained to taking care of their future husbands and children.

Now… in his home, he never commented on the lack of Tinys. Logan assumed it was a sensitive subject, as he could noticed how broken things were between his parents.

Logan really just wanted a person who would accept him and give him company. An adventurous person like him, willing to find his own path. Although, he couldn't deny feeling a little scared, because he believed he would never be enough for that special person.

The night before his tenth birthday, his father gave him some reassuring words. He told his son that he shouldn't be afraid. Soulmates and Tinys were the purest form of love. His Tiny was made for him. His soulmate would never demand something from him that he wasn't willing to offer. He would never reject him. He just need it to open his heart.

Meanwhile, his mother, as she laid him down in his bed before going to sleep, just looked at him with concern. She wished him a good night, but before leaving…

His mother warned him not to be disappointed if fate offered him something he didn't want. "Life takes many turns and the only thing we can do as human beings is to endure."

At the moment, Logan didn't understand the pain behind his mother's eyes, but as time went by he understood...

His mother had been forced to marry a man other than his Tiny, since her soulmate was a farmer without education or money. A woman of high society like her had to maintain her reputation. Therefore, her father took it upon himself to make her Tiny disappear and lock her in an arranged marriage.

The man he always considered his real father, only agreed to stay with his mother, since his soulmate had died of smallpox. Mr. Howlett had preferred to stay in a depressing home than endure loneliness.

***

Logan still remembers with shame, the speed which he left his house the next morning. He only wanted to find his Tiny as soon as possible.

Upon reaching the gate of the main ranch, he found a small red box with a black bow. Logan knew deep in his heart that this was his Tiny's welcome box. Something inside it drew him and filled him with warmth. He knew that inside that box was the most important piece of his soulmate.

After a detailed inspection of the box, Logan noticed the small card hanging from the black bow. The card only had the name "Wade" in beautiful cursive writing. At first, Logan was confused by the name, as it was very masculine for a woman. However, the excitement was so great that he just grabbed his box and ran to the most secluded barn in the entire Howlett residence.

Once in the privacy of the barn, Logan began to breathe deeply to contain his joy. He was very nervous, but he was sure he was ready to open his heart to his new companion. Without further ado, he untangled the bow and with a single move, he lifted the lid of the box.

- Ohhh it was time Peanut!

—

Sooooo ahí lo tienen !!! I really want to have the time to explained how strong is the relationship between Logan and his Tiny !!! Cause they live together through sooooo much !!! Wars, homelessness, homophobia and even the X-men…

But !!! I promise my next post will be about Wade and his Tiny Logan 🥺♥️

Thank U and once again… I’m sorry about my weird English 💀

[ficsonpost-its]

sparring with gf!lara croft

summary: dating world renowned archaeologist lara croft does come with some conditions. the most important one? you need to know how to defend yourself cw: mentions of loss but otherwise, pretty fluffy!

‣ Lara's number one rule was simple: know how to defend yourself. She's not risking the chance another break in to her home happens and you're caught unawares with no way to protect yourself if she didn't get there in time.

‣ This meant countless hours in the home gym Lara had constructed shortly after the events of Yamatai. You'd find her down there some nights with a faraway look in her eyes working on one of the machines. She made it look so easy.

‣ She found a way to make it at least a little bit fun though. Playful contests on who could run on a treadmill the longest, who could lift more (that one was one you were certain you'd always lose), and at one point there was an impromptu game of messing about on yoga balls during a moment where Lara found herself feeling less serious than usual.

‣ During a session where Lara was attempting to teach you how to get out of grips, the both of you had found yourselves on the floor, nose to nose.

‣ "Does this mean I win?" You had asked, and you were proud to see her turn her head to semi hide a smile that grew on her face and laugh in that way she did where she couldn't help btu be amused by you.

‣ "No, it means you've lost, and now are being dragged to who-knows-where."

‣ "I don't know, from where I'm lying I see this as a win."

‣ Shamelessly flirting with each other became the norm too. Stealing kisses during close encounters, making little jokes (some of them less than clean), or finding excuses to give each other a cheeky squeeze.

‣ Of course, amongst all the fun, there was also the main goal: sparring and hand-to-hand practise. Not that you'd let a chance to hold her hands pass you by, not at all.

‣ "This is serious!" She'd say as she caught you not-so subtly ogling her arms for the nth time in the past couple hours. Now, Lara would be lying if she said that didn't give her a spike in confidence and esteem that you were so distracted by her you couldn't concentrate, but in the back of her mind flashed images of those that didn't make it in the past. Whether directly because of her or not, that weighted on her heavily, and she couldn't have it happening to you too.

‣ But really, how could you not get distracted? It wasn't often you saw her in clothes that truly screamed casual. But being with her, alone in her home gym while she shows off her physique in black sweats and matching sports bra? Sometimes you messed up on purpose just for her to throw you around a little.

‣ She'd flipped you over for what you hoped wouldn't be the final time and stared down at you, obviously trying to look annoyed but you could see how she struggled to not let slip the little smile and her eyes never lied - they were always soft for you.

‣ You, meanwhile? You stared lovingly up at her, matching her own smile, and let yourself laugh. You were down bad, that much was true.

‣ "What would you have done if I hadn't been me?" She'd ask you rhetorically with a tilt of her head as her face changed to that subtle expression she'd give you when giving you some sort of warning or trying to make a point. "Right now you could have a gun pointed at you, or a knife, or who knows what else?"

‣ You could hear hints of frustration in her voice and you knew it wasn't exactly directed at you. Lara had told you some stories of her adventures in the past. People she had gained, people she had lost, and you came under the 'people not to lose' category. It made sense why for the most part she was a little hard on you.

‣ As serious as the reasons behind these training sessions was, you would notice that now and then she'd let herself crack a smile or just have fun with you. You always try to encourage her to see the positives of working out together and not the negatives that would often plague her mind.

‣ Maybe kiss her a few more times when she isn't expecting it? That should do the trick.

writers block is complete ass but i finally finished this! hope you enjoyed!

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Cartoon Movement

* * * *

A new way forward—for good!

November 5, 2024

Robert B. Hubbell

Nov 04, 2024

As we head into Election Day, I don’t want to tell you how to feel. Instead, I will describe how I am feeling. I hope it is helpful.

I am feeling confident because we have done everything asked of us—and more.

I am feeling confident because we have enthusiasm and momentum on our side.

I am feeling confident because Kamala Harris has run a nearly flawless campaign.

I am feeling confident because I know that women are determined to reclaim their status as full citizens under the Constitution.

I am feeling confident because Democrats have consistently overperformed the predictions of pollsters and pundits in every election since 2020.

I am feeling confident because pollsters and pundits have underestimated the power of the grassroots movement that has engaged tens of millions of Americans as never before.

I am feeling confident because of the professionalism and dedication of local Democratic Party organizations.

I am feeling confident because Kamala Harris has shown us a new way forward that focuses on the good in the American people rather than on their grievances and divisions.

I am feeling confident because I know that the new way forward that has emerged over the last eight years is a change for good that will persist and prevail long after we are gone.

I am feeling confident because I know we aren’t going back—no matter what happens in any race decided on Election Day 2024.

I am feeling confident because we are standing on the shoulders of generations of Americans who sacrificed their lives, liberty, and security so that we could arrive safely at this moment of opportunity and promise.

I am feeling confident because I know that we will ultimately prevail in the larger battle for the soul of America.

I know that we are not guaranteed success. I know that polls continue to show a race allegedly closer than any presidential and congressional election in modern history. I know we could suffer disappointment—but I also know that we can survive, endure, and prevail over any loss. We have done so before, and we can do so again.

In my moments of doubt and worry, I am drawn to the memory of 25-year-old John Lewis, who led 600 marchers across Edmund Pettus Bridge on Bloody Sunday, March 7, 1965. On that fateful day, state troopers cracked John Lewis’s skull with a club for daring to demand equal voting rights for Black Americans.

John Lewis could have given up when he awoke in the hospital with a bandaged and bloody head. He did not.

Two weeks after Bloody Sunday, John Lewis marched with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and thousands of others to complete the march into Montgomery.

Five months later, President Johnson signed the Voting Rights Act of 1965.

Whatever happens on Election Day, I am not giving up—and I know you are not giving up. It doesn’t matter whether we win a trifecta or suffer shocking losses, our work of defending democracy will not be finished. It never will be.

Yes, Election Day is critically important. But it is one of thousands of critically important days in the life of our democracy within living memory.

If we are fortunate enough to secure major victories on Tuesday, our reward will be that we get to do it all over again, starting on Wednesday.

Democracy is an ongoing, collaborative process. The good news is that we are working with one another to ensure that we preserve democracy for the next generation. I am honored to be working by your side!

Notes from the field (part IV)

Jill and I canvassed with Steve and Ellen Hill on Monday, covering 116 residences in Charlotte. It was a sobering experience. The areas we canvassed were economically depressed. We walked through some single-family home neighborhoods, where many homes were abandoned. Rental homes were dilapidated, with peeling paint and abandoned cars on the front lawns. But even in those neighborhoods, homes were being bulldozed at a rapid pace and replaced by two-story faux Cape Cod homes that would require substantial double incomes to pay the mortgage.

Especially sobering were the large apartment complexes that consisted of brick row houses surrounding a common area. The areas surrounding the apartments were strewn with trash and abandoned belongings left behind by renters who were forced out or moved on short notice. The bones of the old brick apartments were still solid, but window frames and doors were rotting. The residents of those apartments have been ignored and abandoned by landlords, the city, the state, and society. It is easy to see why some residents in those apartments feel hopeless and disconnected from presidential politics. And yet, we spoke to occasional residents who were strong and clear in their support for Kamala Harris and Democrats up and down the ballot.

It was disappointing that we were unable to speak to more residents. On the other hand, I felt that putting a door hanger on the front doorknob was a message to the residents: “We came to talk with you. You are not forgotten. Your voice matters. Vote.”

Jill posted a video on her blog that explains the technology of canvassing. See Every Day with Jill, Final Day of Canvassing: FOR KAMALA!

Concluding Thoughts

The astronomy photo below shows the Western Veil Nebula, a remnant of an exploding star. The early universe consisted only of two elements--hydrogen and helium, the basic ingredients of stars. On the other hand, humans are made of oxygen, carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, calcium, phosphorus, potassium, sulfur, sodium, chlorine, and magnesium.

If the universe started as hydrogen and helium, where did the other “stuff” that makes up humans come from? Answer: From exploding stars. You are, therefore, made of stardust. Literally. Not figuratively. Not metaphorically. Literally. Nearly every atom in your body came from an exploding star.

So, as you anxiously wait for election returns, reflect on the fact you have the great fortune to be here in this moment because millions of exploding stars propelled matter into space that fortuitously, miraculously coalesced into you. How lucky is that?

Stay strong!

[additiva]

Can I ask two of the fic ask game?? Of course the fic I wanna know about is frechheit, and the asks are “dvd bonus” and “small things” 🥰

Hello!

You may of course ask two ❤️

Small things and a brief snippet for DVD bonus are both below the cut:

For small things:

One thing I'm not sure was noticed, and certainly wasn't commented on is:

When Charles has his little breakdown in Qatar, it's silent. He learned it when his dad was sick, because he didn't want to put more stress on his family by letting them see how affected he was by it.

The small things is that in Monza the following year after the podium, his breakdown that time isn't quiet at all. And it's because telling Ferrari is much worse to him than anything that happened in Qatar, so he can't hold it back. And also because he, by that point, trusts Max completely to handle all of him. And Max understands how important it is to Charles to hide it from the world, so he hides him away and covers Charles' mouth to smother the sound for him.

-----

Also, here's a snip for you, from that night in Monaco ❤️

-----

It’s late.

It’s really late.

Elsewhere in the city, the track parties are starting to wind down, revellers finally satisfied with the celebrations.

The tiny back-streets of Monaco are a little darker – a little quieter, free of tourists. Most of the residents are already asleep, preparing for work in a few hours.

Lewis wishes he was among them.

God, he wishes.

And he would’ve been if he’d – as planned – left Jimmyz a few minutes earlier; if he’d gotten into the car he’d called to pick him up; if he hadn’t run into the two dead-weights he’s now trying to drag home.

With a sigh, he bends to sit on the road-edge, tapping hopelessly at his phone.

Kill me.

Unexpectedly, it’s only a few minutes later that the response pops up on his screen.

Good morning Lewis. Do you know it is 4 am?

So it is. Actually it’s almost 4.30 -- 4.26. Lewis left Jimmy’z over an hour ago. He can’t believe he’s still awake. He can’t believe Seb’s awake.

I do.

After a moment, trying to feel bad about sharing his misery, he adds: Sorry did i wake you?

No i was awake

God, why?

Why

It’s a school day. It’s my turn to get the kids ready.

Lewis smiles at the image of him puttering around the kitchen in his slippers, making packed lunches.

That can’t be right. Your kids are here with me.

With it, he sends a snap of the idiots in question.

The two of them stand a few metres back, facing off in the middle of the street.

“Charles”, Max scolds, irritated. “You are completely missing the apex. You need to come like this—here, braking already.”

“What? No.” Charles is getting just as heated, tipping his head too far back to see Max under the brim of his Mercedes cap. With his hands, he gestures to a point on the track. “Like this, it is a better exit. Because the next corner, it is faster there. And already you can get on the throttle here.”

They stare silently at one another for a moment, and Lewis actually thinks for a moment that the argument they’ve been having for the past twenty minutes might be over.

“Well no because the track of course would go that way”, Max defends, indicating a spot where the road forks off in another direction.

And they’re off again.

Lewis groans quietly, slumping to rest his elbows on his knees as his phone lights up with a laughing emoji from Seb.

The bickering continues. They orbit one another, arguing. Their brows twitch with bemusement and irritation. They glare and laugh, grabbing at one another’s hands, interrupting gestures and explanations.

They sway together and apart, as Max jabs at Charles’ ribs for a particularly cheeky remark.

Lewis catches himself watching but can’t look away, warm with affection. He only stands to interrupt when they get dangerously close, unable to keep their hands to themselves.

As he approaches to drag them apart, they’re still whispering under their breaths about overtaking rules, lips almost brushing, final shreds of plausible deniability truly in danger.

They seem to have forgotten about him completely, surprised -- and delighted, on Charles’ part -- to see him. Fortunately, it helps to get them moving again, Charles easily shepherded along. Max, for what Lewis thinks might be the first time in his life, seems content to follow a step behind.

-----

Much love friends 😘 tell me your thoughts and feelings 🤍

[amazingdeadfish]

Blue and Violet Scenes/Ideas that never made the cut

Self Indulgent post ahead, but I kind of wanted to share some of the things that had been part of the early stages of BAV but were cut out when I finally started publishing! Most of this stuff was either cut out due to my interpretations of the characters naturally changing and/or I simply realized that these aspects simply could not fit the story I wanted to tell (or, they are just silly things I simply could not fit into the plot line. OR, I forgot about them and didn't remember these things existed until now 💀).

Starting off strong with a thing I actually wrote a segment for (an idea that was relatively recent compared to the ones down below): During Colours, Baihe and Macaque were meant to visit the ruins of her house and try and salvage any bits and pieces which might help them find her parents. In the end I had decided that, Baihe would have done that already before Macaque found her on the park bench. I just think that that moment between her and her old home should just... well, it's a moment that belongs to her. Something Macaque didn't need to bare witness.

Extra Info: This is where Baihe was originally meant to find the old photo of her, her parents, and Māo as a kitten. And... Macaque is there in the background. Stealing an air fryer that managed to survive the wreckage (this was in fact written into the draft of this segment).

Next is- well, it contains a bit of a heavy topic. It's about Mayor and LBD and... erm...

In the published version of TQFTSK. Macaque betrays the Chief and locks them in the Calabash and this inevitably leads to LBD telling Chief to cut off their hair. Originally, this was not going to be the only thing she would do.

I have incredibly mixed feelings about this concept, but basically, after Chief especially failed to get the key and 'let' Macaque escape, LBD would have had severe insecurities about the Chief being on their own and the idea that they would never be able to get anything done without her. So, she made them wear a collar. So that every time they didn't do anything right, the needles imbedded into it would dig into their throat and- well, it was basically torture. She would have called it 'necessary discipline'. Of course, the collar would not be visible to anyone. It only appears when it's 'necessary'.

But this was an extremely early concept that I threw away in the bin after realising that this was not what I wanted LBD and Mayor's relationship to be like. While the initial idea behind this was to really empathize the fact that LBD owns Mayor and is extremely controlling, the idea of a physical collar ruins that aspect of their relationship. It's a visual and painful representation of their relationship, sure, but it made their relationship too negative and, well, Mayor loves her. And I knew it needed to be important to at least give you guys some sort of reason and some sort of argument as to why that admiration and love would be justified. The collar was just too much, and it didn't fit either of them.

Side Note: One thing I think subconsciously happened though, was the needle thing. LBD ended up killing Ling with tens of thin needles piercing through their body. So, not a collar, but the basic principle of needles being used for pain... remains.

Moving on, a more silly one this time! Somewhere near the beginnings of all of this (all the way back when I had only planned to make TQFTSK and Colours), there was going to be one single chapter (in Colours) dedicated to the Mayor going through all the stages of grief (eventually I'd come to the conclusion that they needed a lot more than one chapter to do all of that lmao). As a part of their bargaining stage, Macaque was going to stumble upon them in a bar and- unfortunately, being the curious nut he is, decides to stick around and just listen to the Mayor drunkenly mope.

PSA: No, this would not have ended in drunk kissing. This was meant to end in a snotty nosed Mayor and Macaque promptly leaving after he'd had his bit of listening to their misery.

Another thing was that Mayor was meant to be able to see souls! This particular story feature eventually just evolved into Mayor simply being able to judge a soul by looking at their eyes (hence the whole, "eyes are the gateway to the soul").

Another Note: This whole idea was also meant to emphasize the fact that Mayor has no soul and, how whenever they look inside themselves, there is no colour and there is no soul (that is, until they get their soul back). But, well, I figured their eyes alone would be able to do all of that just fine without this ability.

Now, as ashamed as I am to admit, originally I had completely bought into the Baihe, Macaque, and Mayor family dynamic. So, in the beginning, this was what was going to happen.

But then I decided Baihe was not going to conveniently be an orphan or have shitty parents for the sake of this dynamic. No, no no no. She will have loving parents, character development, and she will be more than just a character to fill in the slot of 'the child'. Whenever I write Baihe, I always strive to not use her for the sake of developing Macaque and Mayor's characters. No shame to those who like this dynamic though, its a good one and it's so silly (I still like it to be honest).

Now, let me tell you that there are a LOT more unused concepts than this. It's really just a decent slice from a never ending pile of WIPs and shower thoughts scribbled onto a doc from all the way back in like... 2022-23.

[greenlittleapple]

The importance of season 4 for Gallavich

Overall, season 4 is one of the darkest in the serie, and there are many difficult moments for Ian and Mickey too. However, it contains importants episodes for the evolution of Gallavich, with a large varity of emotions and situations. 1/ Mickey’s care and devotion to Ian: Every time I re-watches the season or thinks about it, I’m moved by the expression of Mickey's feelings toward him. We know they are there before, but here, the romantic evolution of their relationship is more assumed. In the first episodes, Mickey constantly thinks about Ian, crualy missing him. Then, even if he's deeply in the closet, he doesn’t hesitate to go in gay clubs to find him, to take him back home. He's scared and unconfortable, but he does it. Next, when he wonder what’s happen with Ian’s "unusual behaviour", he’s immediately worried, and try to protect him. There is the « Coming out » scene, obviously, who shows how Mickey is affraid to be separated from Ian, but also that earthbreaking moment, where he begs Fiona to let him to take care of Ian just for keeping him by his side. We see, with his concern during this episode, and with Gallavich's progression in season 5, that he's gonna be his main support before and in the weeks after the diagnosy. 2/ Proximity: there are those little nice details I absolutly love: Mickey sleeping on the flor by Ian's tiny bed, and later sharing that bed with him. Mickey pouring coffey for him at breakfast. Ian being anxious thinking that Mickey could leave, when Svetlana is in labor. Mickey going with Ian at Frank's weeding. In that episode in question, they protect each other, Ian impide Mickey to shoot Kev, and Mickey protects a probably manic Ian when he trys to stab Mandy's awaful boyfriend. In brief, in that season, they are not happy, (not often), but they are together. And, despite all the bumps on their road, it's something positive. Sory for that long long meta, just to say that.

[lovely-p-issues]

Okay, you've made me realise that I misspoke in my previous response (and I used italics incorrectly lmao)

I'll start with the most important one - yes, I do think that until the very end Ody saw Eurylochus as his friend (as you wrote, he literally appears as a ghost alongside his mum and Polites)

However. I think this relationship was incredibly damaged by everything that happened, and these most important relationships have a way of being strengthened by tragedies. That's why, despite all my love for this character, after everything he and Ody did to each other, I could never vote for him

But I just need to address your really good points and how I look at it

sacrificing the crew

Yes, my mistake, abandoning the crew on the island of Kirke could be called reasonable - I meant rather to point out that sacrificing six men was also essentially the best tactic for survival, in a situation where you are in the middle of nowhere, chased by a god of sea and have to sail somewhere (but surely there is something much darker about deliberately choosing the death of six men than refusing to save them, even if it was ultimately to reduce the bloodshed associated with pointless battle)

(just to be clear, none of these decisions lie with my general view on the world, they are simply comparable in my eyes)

My point was rather that, of all people, Eurylochus could understand Odysseus - he himself was prepared to do something very similar, yet he completely ignored it and started a mutiny (I wonder now if the crew ever found out that Eurylochus had refused to save them…)

Nor does Eurylochus ever deny this plea by Odysseus in Mutiny:

Don't make me fight you, brother, you know you'd have done the same If you want all the power, you must carry all the blame

I interpret this as Eurylochus saying "that's true, but at the end of the day it was you who made that decision, so we can blame you for this"

while we're on Mutiny….

I just remembered how annoyed I was that the moment the crew, headed by Eurylochus, realised how badly they had screwed up, they immediately turn to Odysseus. Odysseus, whom they had just removed from power, thinking they knew better.

In a normal situation, I wouldn't put up with telling a person close to me very clearly ‘don't do that, there will be consequences’, but when it actually happens, they look at me, expecting me to somehow solve the problem

Eurylochus's advice

Did Odysseus need a man who could pull him down to earth? Absolutely.

The problem is that Eurylochus does it in public, in front of the entire crew, not only trying to talk sense into Odysseus, but sowing doubt among the crew.

When Ody pulls him aside at the end of Luck Runs Out this is practically the first thing he points out to him. A captain making a mistake is a terrible thing, but a crew left to their own devices…. well, Mutiny showed that, despite his flaws, Odysseus made better decisions most of the time (motivated by a desire to get home) than they did, focused more on the present moment, hunger and fatigue.

But even putting tactics aside - I think the friends know best that a public confrontation is not the best idea. While we obviously don't know how Odysseus would have reacted to a private conversation with Eurylochus - it seems to me personally that at least he could have focused on what was being said to him, rather than making sure his men don't fall apart.

I will end here, because we can point those thing for eternity and I didn't even started rating about Odysseus's mistakes as a friend-

I just don't think Eury was a really good friend in general. He was a decent man, he was trying his best, he was obviously tired and broken, but looking from perspetive of the first question, he just... doesn't stand a chance

And I still love him tho.

(i will probably get through every character in survey when it's finished lmao)

(i regret setting seven days instead of one for this)

[guardian-angle22]

Tarlos Wedding Celebration Event [Week 12] -> favorite location(s)-> The Tarloft

[fishareglorious]

kakania numero uno reverse 1999 character on the fact she makes a dig on the sex life of the guy she was dueling with at the moment. while also somewhat kinda maybe implying she fucked his wife

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

things from The Halloween Update that are concerning me more than i already am about Eddie:

his Frankenstein's Monster costume turning his face (and hands. ha, hands, like the hands on a-) half yellow half blue/purple like the clocks & Sally's door. that's fucking me up a little ngl

Eddie tacks "A bit of a moral conundrum-" onto his description of Frankenstein's Monster, who he's costumed as. which seems out of place with the rest of his description. he could've said "bolts" or "white streak in his hair" or another physical trait. nope. Moral Conundrum (one could also describe his costume as "two-faced"...). and the fact that he's dressed specifically as someone who was "brought back from the dead" makes me 👁️👁️. kinda reminds me of a certain set of artworks from Clown's tumblr a while back...

Eddie, despite his whole schtick being "bad memory", was the only one to accurately recognize Sally's costume as pedrolino from the Commedia dell'arte. could be a little 'inside joke', might be something else. i suspect it's something else due to his... ah... Everything.

[everyryuujisuguro]

[4ddi3addie2005]

Before I went to bed I saw the Youtube notif that TADC was going to Netflix and it INVADED my dreams so vividly I have not had such an episodic sequential serialized cohesive dream in months it was literally its own chapter its own short story