#almost ten years in our world damn

[veunho]

Playing Elnea kingdom as if Knights and Scholars are sort of like nobility, and trying to figure out arranged marriages between them (and also my character) on first gen to get the best talent odds on future generations is a NIGHTMARE

[txttletale]

Saw a tweet that said something around:

"cannot emphasize enough how horrid chatgpt is, y'all. it's depleting our global power & water supply, stopping us from thinking or writing critically, plagiarizing human artists. today's students are worried they won't have jobs because of AI tools. this isn't a world we deserve"

I've seen some of your AI posts and they seem nuanced, but how would you respond do this? Cause it seems fairly-on point and like the crux of most worries. Sorry if this is a troublesome ask, just trying to learn so any input would be appreciated.

i would simply respond that almost none of that is true.

'depleting the global power and water supply'

something i've seen making the roudns on tumblr is that chatgpt queries use 3 watt-hours per query. wow, that sounds like a lot, especially with all the articles emphasizing that this is ten times as much as google search. let's check some other very common power uses:

running a microwave for ten minutes is 133 watt-hours

gaming on your ps5 for an hour is 200 watt-hours

watching an hour of netflix is 800 watt-hours

and those are just domestic consumer electricty uses!

a single streetlight's typical operation 1.2 kilowatt-hours a day (or 1200 watt-hours)

a digital billboard being on for an hour is 4.7 kilowatt-hours (or 4700 watt-hours)

i think i've proved my point, so let's move on to the bigger picture: there are estimates that AI is going to cause datacenters to double or even triple in power consumption in the next year or two! damn that sounds scary. hey, how significant as a percentage of global power consumption are datecenters?

1-1.5%.

ah. well. nevertheless!

what about that water? yeah, datacenters use a lot of water for cooling. 1.7 billion gallons (microsoft's usage figure for 2021) is a lot of water! of course, when you look at those huge and scary numbers, there's some important context missing. it's not like that water is shipped to venus: some of it is evaporated and the rest is generally recycled in cooling towers. also, not all of the water used is potable--some datacenters cool themselves with filtered wastewater.

most importantly, this number is for all data centers. there's no good way to separate the 'AI' out for that, except to make educated guesses based on power consumption and percentage changes. that water figure isn't all attributable to AI, plenty of it is necessary to simply run regular web servers.

but sure, just taking that number in isolation, i think we can all broadly agree that it's bad that, for example, people are being asked to reduce their household water usage while google waltzes in and takes billions of gallons from those same public reservoirs.

but again, let's put this in perspective: in 2017, coca cola used 289 billion liters of water--that's 7 billion gallons! bayer (formerly monsanto) in 2018 used 124 million cubic meters--that's 32 billion gallons!

so, like. yeah, AI uses electricity, and water, to do a bunch of stuff that is basically silly and frivolous, and that is broadly speaking, as someone who likes living on a planet that is less than 30% on fire, bad. but if you look at the overall numbers involved it is a miniscule drop in the ocean! it is a functional irrelevance! it is not in any way 'depleting' anything!

'stopping us from thinking or writing critically'

this is the same old reactionary canard we hear over and over again in different forms. when was this mythic golden age when everyone was thinking and writing critically? surely we have all heard these same complaints about tiktok, about phones, about the internet itself? if we had been around a few hundred years earlier, we could have heard that "The free access which many young people have to romances, novels, and plays has poisoned the mind and corrupted the morals of many a promising youth."

it is a reactionary narrative of societal degeneration with no basis in anything. yes, it is very funny that laywers have lost the bar for trusting chatgpt to cite cases for them. but if you think that chatgpt somehow prevented them from thinking critically about its output, you're accusing the tail of wagging the dog.

nobody who says shit like "oh wow chatgpt can write every novel and movie now. yiou can just ask chatgpt to give you opinions and ideas and then use them its so great" was, like, sitting in the symposium debating the nature of the sublime before chatgpt released. there is no 'decay', there is no 'decline'. you should be suspicious of those narratives wherever you see them, especially if you are inclined to agree!

plagiarizing human artists

nah. i've been over this ad infinitum--nothing 'AI art' does could be considered plagiarism without a definition so preposterously expansive that it would curtail huge swathes of human creative expression.

AI art models do not contain or reproduce any images. the result of them being trained on images is a very very complex statistical model that contains a lot of large-scale statistical data about all those images put together (and no data about any of those individual images).

to draw a very tortured comparison, imagine you had a great idea for how to make the next Great American Painting. you loaded up a big file of every norman rockwell painting, and you made a gigantic excel spreadsheet. in this spreadsheet you noticed how regularly elements recurred: in each cell you would have something like "naturalistic lighting" or "sexually unawakened farmers" and the % of times it appears in his paintings. from this, you then drew links between these cells--what % of paintings containing sexually unawakened farmers also contained naturalistic lighting? what % also contained a white guy?

then, if you told someone else with moderately competent skill at painting to use your excel spreadsheet to generate a Great American Painting, you would likely end up with something that is recognizably similar to a Norman Rockwell painting: but any charge of 'plagiarism' would be absolutely fucking absurd!

this is a gross oversimplification, of course, but it is much closer to how AI art works than the 'collage machine' description most people who are all het up about plagiarism talk about--and if it were a collage machine, it would still not be plagiarising because collages aren't plagiarism.

(for a better and smarter explanation of the process from soneone who actually understands it check out this great twitter thread by @reachartwork)

today's students are worried they won't have jobs because of AI tools

i mean, this is true! AI tools are definitely going to destroy livelihoods. they will increase productivty for skilled writers and artists who learn to use them, which will immiserate those jobs--they will outright replace a lot of artists and writers for whom quality is not actually important to the work they do (this has already essentially happened to the SEO slop website industry and is in the process of happening to stock images).

jobs in, for example, product support are being cut for chatgpt. and that sucks for everyone involved. but this isn't some unique evil of chatgpt or machine learning, this is just the effect that technological innovation has on industries under capitalism!

there are plenty of innovations that wiped out other job sectors overnight. the camera was disastrous for portrait artists. the spinning jenny was famously disastrous for the hand-textile workers from which the luddites drew their ranks. retail work was hit hard by self-checkout machines. this is the shape of every single innovation that can increase productivity, as marx explains in wage labour and capital:

“The greater division of labour enables one labourer to accomplish the work of five, 10, or 20 labourers; it therefore increases competition among the labourers fivefold, tenfold, or twentyfold. The labourers compete not only by selling themselves one cheaper than the other, but also by one doing the work of five, 10, or 20; and they are forced to compete in this manner by the division of labour, which is introduced and steadily improved by capital. Furthermore, to the same degree in which the division of labour increases, is the labour simplified. The special skill of the labourer becomes worthless. He becomes transformed into a simple monotonous force of production, with neither physical nor mental elasticity. His work becomes accessible to all; therefore competitors press upon him from all sides. Moreover, it must be remembered that the more simple, the more easily learned the work is, so much the less is its cost to production, the expense of its acquisition, and so much the lower must the wages sink – for, like the price of any other commodity, they are determined by the cost of production. Therefore, in the same manner in which labour becomes more unsatisfactory, more repulsive, do competition increase and wages decrease”

this is the process by which every technological advancement is used to increase the domination of the owning class over the working class. not due to some inherent flaw or malice of the technology itself, but due to the material realtions of production.

so again the overarching point is that none of this is uniquely symptomatic of AI art or whatever ever most recent technological innovation. it is symptomatic of capitalism. we remember the luddites primarily for failing and not accomplishing anything of meaning.

if you think it's bad that this new technology is being used with no consideration for the planet, for social good, for the flourishing of human beings, then i agree with you! but then your problem shouldn't be with the technology--it should be with the economic system under which its use is controlled and dictated by the bourgeoisie.

[reallyromealone]

Can you do (whatever characters you like) x male omega reader?

I don’t care what character(s) get put x reader.

Plot: Toman was in a meeting talking about god knows what when reader begins to enter pre-heat. Chaos insues

Title: atypical courting

Fandom: Tokyo revengers

Characters: Toman + others

Fic type: smut

Pairings: all x reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, nsfw, smut, Omega male reader, group sex, double penetration

Notes: I just added everyone in here, it's all post story version's but crime ✨

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

He's known them most of his life, Mikey coming to his dad's bakery almost daily and witnessing (name) beat the crap out of a thief trying to rob them, immediately asking him to join Toman even if he was an Omega.

That was ten years ago, and here he was.

On top of the world.

Being a Toman executive wasn't easy, especially as (name) secondary gender but he made it work as he kept a constant supply of suppressants to keep his heat at bay, refusing to be seen in a moment of weakness by the other Toman executives.

(Name) And the others always had... Tension between them, not hostile not but more so sexual, they had for a very long time and neither parties actually handed it from the occasional light pass to a grope, a game of cat and mouse.

Mikey, hanma and Kisaki were one of the worst ones with their infatuation, obsessed with him without ever doing anything.

(Name) Was annoyed as he sat in the meeting, he called in sick for a reason and nooo! He had to be here to hear about god damn taxable buildings they needed to check up on! (Name) Was prepping for his upcoming heat, his preheat would hit any day now and he just didn't want to be here when it happened.

He couldn't afford to be vulnerable with people present.

"(Name), you good? Yer' sweatin' fucking buckets" Baji barked out as everyone turned to look at (name) who was barely present as a sweet smell filtered through the room, the smell of preheat.

"Why did you come if you were in preheat?!" Kisaki yelled and (name) hissed back at him "I TRIED AND YOU WERE LIKE NO EXCUSES! THIS IS IMPORTANT!" he did not care that he was yelling at a Toman vp, his stomach cramping and headache forming as he shakily stood "I'll bring you home" chifuyu and mitsuya said in a synchronized tone before glaring at one another "I'm fine, I'll just go home" (name) grunted as he stood, shaking slightly as he walked out of the room but he didn't get too far as the Toman executives be worked with daily flanked his side's, the Haitani brothers just behind him as hanma wrapped his arm around his waist.

"Back off!" (Name) Hissed at them "I'm a grown man, I can handle myself" he glared and removed Hanmas hand and the specticalled man smiled at the other as if he were an angry kitten "you have an alpha to care for you?" Draken said seriously and (name) looked cross "that's none of any of your business" (name) moved faster down the hall and towards the elevator, pushing them back with little effect as they towered over and got in, (name)s headache and cramp being particularly hard and a pained whine escaped his lips "you haven't had a heat in a while, what has it been a year? Since you had one?" Kisaki said to the other while pulling him closer from behind "we all know you don't have friends outside of Toman"

"And we know you want us as much as we want you" Muto finally pipped up as Mikey pulled him closer, hips touching each other and the smell of pharamones made (name) hazy "let us treat you good... Be our pack Omega" Mikey commanded softly, watching (name) sway slightly before the short blond lifted him effortlessly "just... Just don't claim me..." He whispered, thankful he was wearing his collar today as they all grinned.

(Name) Didn't know whose cock was where as he was double penetrated, when one cock thrusted in the other thrusted out as someone's cock was in his mouth, jerking off others as he was surrounded by alphas and cocks as he was touched and most of all filled to he brim.

"Alphaaa~" if (name) were even slightly coherent he would be horrified at the fact he was pulling his boss closer with his ankles around the blonds neck as he jerked off smileys cock that was right by his lips, moving to take it in his mouth with a soft hum.

"God, we should have made you ours forever ago.." pah said drained, having had the soul sucked from him via (name)s tight ass "you think he would be a house Omega? Bare foot?" Angry asked curiously as he too recovered and Draken snorted "he would rip out our eyes for even suggesting that"

It was true, despite being cock drunk and needy now, they knew he was too work driven to even think of that, he wasn't a house Omega who would sit all docile for them.

They literally saw him beat the shit out of a lower employee for losing a cargo box of drugs.

So that said enough.

"I'm just happy we don't have to dance around each other... I wanted so many times to take him in my office" Koko said and Sanzu grunted in agreement "I once saw him climb the lounge kitchen counter and his ass was at face level, took everything not to shove my face in his plush ass" Sanzu was almost hard thinking about it but (name) fucked him out of commission for at least a day.

It had only been five hours and the Omega is just getting exhausted as he let the there's do as they pleased to him, eyes barely staying open as he took what was given.

(Name) Woke up sore, real sore as he sat up to see bodies all over the room, chatting or sleeping as the Omega processed what happened "you need another knot baby?" Baji asked as he chugged a water bottle as Angry looked at (name) curiously as poor (name) processed what took place, cum leaking from his ass as he shakily got out of Draken and Kakuchos hold "what... Fuck... Ow" (name)s hips and ass hurt as he nearly fell over, caught by smiley who snickered at the other man's pain "what did you all go to town on me?!"

"Yuuup" the pink haired twin said kissing his cheek with a cackle "I need a shower..." (Name) Grumbled as he stumbled to the washroom with a hard limp, kicking out any horny alphas that tried to join him.

(Name) Soaked in the bath as he thought about what transpired... He just fucked all his co-workers.

And his bosses!

Oh god he got railed by Mikey and Draken at once.

Memories flooded back as he remembered everything they said to him, everything he did!

He practically attacked Kisaki for his dick!

He didn't hear the washroom door open as mitsuya walked in dressed in nice clothes, a to go bag in one hand and clothes in the other "you haven't eaten since last night" mitsuya chuckled as he crouched before (name) "we got you some breakfast" he said as (name) looked confused "why?"

"You're the pack Omega, gotta keep you taken care of"

"I'm no--""-- we aren't asking you to quit, we just want you and we know you wanted in our pack... To stubborn to admit it"

(Name) Flushed as he didn't deny it and looked at the food they got him, his favorites all present as the Alpha tried to feed him "you have wet hands, you might drop a chopstick"

After the bath, Mikey tried to demand (name) live with one of them preferably him but (name) shut that shit down "I am not going to be your back and call fuck toy " he grumbled and Mikey glared but the pout proved his harmlessness at that moment.

"Next time, in not letting you all rail me back to back"

"No promises"

[robot-roadtrip-rants]

I posted an analysis of a section from Dark Imperium on Reddit that I'm quite proud of, so I'm reposting it here:

‘Some of the worlds dispute the proof. They are more than glad to welcome our warriors, but the Imperial governors in two dozen systems quibble over reaffirming their oaths of loyalty. In one case, we have had an outbreak of intra-system civil war over the issue, where one lord has declared for you and three against. Some lie outright, telling us they were never part of Ultramar. Perhaps some of them sincerely believe it. A few are braver and insist the ancient treaties cannot be revoked, even by you, my lord, and are determined to retain their independence.’ ‘They are wrong,’ said Guilliman. […] 'They are… disquieted by the fate of some of their peers.’ ‘Only those who rule poorly have anything to fear,’ said Guilliman. ‘It is, naturally, the more autocratic rulers who oppose your rescinding of their independence.’ ‘Then they only delay the inevitable,’ said Guilliman. ‘They will fall into line and ask politely for mercy, or they will be executed.’ […] ‘I should never have set the Five Hundred free,’ he said. ‘My lord?’ said Ventris. ‘I should not have done it,’ repeated Guilliman. ‘I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was following the Emperor’s wishes, letting men rule the affairs of men.’

A lot of people look at this passage and think they’re seeing Guilliman clean up corruption in the 500 Worlds. I’m sure he will, but that’s not what’s happening here. This is an autocrat ruthlessly crushing resistance.

Why are these worlds resisting? Ventris claims that “naturally” the more autocratic rulers are the most resistant. Perhaps that’s true, but we also have to take into account that he is an Ultramarine talking to his genesire; he will be heavily biased in thought and word against Guilliman’s enemies. Look closer at how he describes the resisters. They invoke ancient treaties to justify their independence. They’re afraid of what will happen if they surrender. Using that information, let’s flip the chessboard and try to imagine what these demands feel like from their perspective:

You’re a human ruler. For the past ten thousand years, your planet has existed free of transhuman rule. You might even have the original treaty that granted your planet’s independence. You almost certainly regard yourself as an obedient subject of the Imperium.

All of a sudden, one of the legendary demigods of yore shows up on your doorstep and demands you to bend the knee. He doesn’t care about your treaties (which he probably signed!) or historic independence or anything. Ugly things happen to people who go against him. Oh sure, he claims that you’ll be fine, so long as you haven’t done anything wrong, but do you really believe that? You’re a ruler in the fucking Imperium. You know just how potential claimants are handled; you know how often misdeeds get dug out of the closets of inconvenient politicians. Shit, you've probably done that yourself to your political rivals. Do you really think that you’ll be okay? And if you actually care about your planet, can you really trust him to give a damn about the lives of your people? Transhumans do tend to be aloof creatures convinced in their own superiority…

Guilliman doesn’t consider any of these possibilities, not even for the purposes of negotiation. Guilliman doesn’t care. He’s right, you’re wrong, and therefore he’s justified in doing whatever it takes to make you comply. This is 40k. “Whatever it takes” includes cyclonic torpedoes.

The most damning part IMO are Guilliman’s words at the end. He didn’t grant these worlds their liberty because he trusted humans to look after themselves. He granted them liberty in obedience to Dad. Humans’ thoughts, beliefs, and opinions never entered the equation. And now, coming back to the Imperium at its lowest point, he concludes that it was a mistake to give humans the benefit of the doubt.

The Imperium lasted ten thousand years under human rule. It survived the Great Beast, twelve Black Crusades, the Nova Terra civil war, the False Primarch, the Age of Apostasy, three Tyranid Wars, and Throne knows what else—not just survived, but even thrived in many cases. Under transhuman rule, the Imperium lasted six fucking years before it exploded into civil war that nearly destroyed the whole empire and even the galaxy itself. But it was a mistake to let humans rule themselves. Riiiiiiiiight.

[withleeknow]

letters i didn't send to you.

pairing: ot8 x reader (ot8 in the sense that there's no name mentioned so you can imagine whoever you want. imagine the whole kpop industry if you want lol) genre/warnings: established relationship, long distance relationship au?, angst, fluff if you squint. unedited bc i am insane word count: 0.7k note: trying something new here! dunno how people are gonna like it but i don't feel terrible about it 🤷‍♀️ a product of my emo hours and i needed an outlet and i thought oh hey why not just project this into a fic lol

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

3:29am, i've been dreaming about you for years. stars and moons and cotton candy clouds on fire at sundown. the whole universe resides in your eyes, it's almost unfair. sleepless nights because you're not here; restless days because i can't wait for you to be back. the clock stops ticking when you're not with me. the magnetic pull gets stronger during the witching hour somehow. i've always been drawn to you, even before i knew who you were. you're the only home i'd leave all my haunts for. it's summer solstice in most parts of the world but not in our bedroom, not when the only way i can have you is through a phone screen on your pillow. your voice is trying to lull me to sleep. it doesn't come close to replicating one tenth of your warmth. to love is to endure.

-

i'm halfway through the day, and you must be dreaming of where you belong, by my side on a bed that's far too big when i'm the only occupant. or at least, i hope you're dreaming of me too. 1:19pm, i'm six hours ahead but days and weeks and months and years behind, still stuck in that airport where you left me for the first time. some days, my eyes get misty at lunch when i think about your alarm going off and your irritated groan as you roll over to make your phone stop screaming. other days, i don't have an appetite at all, not with you on my mind and the reminder that there's still oceans between us. when are you coming home? i know when you're coming home, and yet i ask anyway, as if it'll shorten the distance and make the time pass more quickly. to love is to wait.

-

saturday morning, but i can't stay in bed past 7:12am. missing you a lot tonight, was what you had sent while i was asleep. that's a little cruel for a good morning text, don't you think? it's not your fault. i blame it on the oceans, on the time, on the distance. the coffee is still brewing, just enough for one steaming mug but it would've been nice if i got to make two. can we go back to new york? we always say we would, but can we do it now? i'll meet you halfway if you let me. there's nothing that ties me to this place. you're always on the move. my home is always on the move. we were happy on that trip, right? my fondest memories of you. skylines and the high line. to love is to risk it all, and i would risk it all for you. take me home, will you? let's go back to new york.

-

the clock reads 8:18am, but the date is all wrong. you should be landing any minute now, but not for another two days. two more days until you're home, ten days that i get to be in your arms. and yet, all i can think about is your departure, about coming back to an empty apartment after you're gone again. i think about you leaving before you even return. the drive back after i've sent you off, it never hurts less no matter how many times we go through it. i can already picture the scene, it's almost routine at this point. your sparkling eyes when they find me in the crowded airport, your relieved sigh when i run to you, your hands clutching me so tightly like you don't want to let go either. it's always this damn airport. we should stop meeting like this. when the buzzing of my phone snaps me out of it, i know who's on the other end of the notification. a photo of your new polaroid camera, then a promise to make more memories to keep with us when you come back to me.

to love is to willingly weather this with you a million times and more. even if it hurts. maybe especially if it hurts. you're the reason i keep going. you're the reason why the sun rises in the morning. let's talk about new york when you're here.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 02.07.2024]

[siriusblacksbxtch]

Do you still write for TUA? If so, could you do a Sparrow!Ben x mreader smut? 👀👀

A/N: I haven’t written in years be gentle

Pairings: Sparrow!Ben x Hargreeves!male reader

Warnings: NSFW , top!ben x bottom!reader , arrogance , dirty talk , whatever else might happen

Summaru: After being sent to a new timeline the new Ben didn’t waste any time

He was such a goddamned asshole. From his emo hair cute to his evil smirk training you down, you already couldn’t stand him.

Your Ben was sweet, kind, gentle. This one seemed to be a spoiled brat who could take anything he wanted with simply a smile.

Diego had smacked you upside the head when he caught your gaze lingering far to long, although the dickhead behavior he was inexcusably attractive.

You slowly crept inside the Sparrow Academy, none of the rich prats insight as far as you could tell, your power being heat detection. You stared around the house, looking all too familiar to your own that had been thoroughly destroyed.

“What are you doing here asswipe?” Ben’s voice made your teeth immedialey grind, glaring down the egotistical maniac.

“Here to kick your ass if I gave a damn, but lucky for you I’m just visiting.” Ben scoffed at your comment, glaring you down but it seemed hard for the sweet looking boy to appear threatening.

“Do you always talk out of your ass or are you just feeling quirky?”

“At least I have an ass, bitch boy.” Ben snorted at your comment, obviously you had earned your mouth from Diego, the two of you stirring up the most trouble besides Klaus.

“What do you want?” He asked seriously ruffling his hair as he raised an eyebrow at you.

“I’m not sure,” you muttered your (e/c) eyes flickering to the ground.

“You’re not sure?”

“I just felt like I should come,” you shrugged. Ben stood for a moment in silence, glancing at the bar and wandering over to it.

“A drink?”

“Please.” You followed after him, the man pouring you and himself a glass of scotch as you leaned against the bar.

“What’s with your families’ obsession with me?” Ben rose an eyebrow taking a long sip from his drink as a soft sigh escaped you.

“You look just like him,” you muttered. “Ben was,” you shook your head, “Ben was the best of us. I had been picked up by Reggie at about ten, an old lady wanting her cut of the money brought me to the Umbrella Academy. He thought I could be useful, but really it was all just traumatizing. The others had been used to it, but I had gone from relaxation to army training.” You took a long sip from your drink as well, almost finishing it off. “Ben took care of me, was there for me. He was everything to me.”

Ben, not your Ben, but Ben none the less almost seemed to smile at the story, shaking his head.

“So when you look at me, you think of the boy that meant everything to you?”

You stared at him for a while, finishing the rest of your drink as you gave a slow nod.

“Yeah, of course I do.” Silence filled the giant room, still nodding your head. “Although you have caught my eye in the way he never could, we were just kids. We couldn’t explain how we felt. Seeing you is almost like, like a reminder. Knowing what I felt for him was real.”

Ben stared at you for a long time, all of the asshole personality you had seen seeming to fade away as he looked you up and down with a soft smirk.

“You sound like a genuine guy,” you scoffed at the half ass compliment, nudging him with your shoulder.

“And you seem like a pretty attractive guy if you weren’t such a dickhead.”

“Some guys like a dick,” he stepped closer to you, trapping you against the bar with his hands as a sly smile graced his lips.

“Oh, trust me,” you leaned closer your lips grazing his, “I love dick, but I like a sweetheart.”

“I could be a sweetheart for a night.”

You scoffed at him, nose brushing against his as you met his eyes.

“What makes you say that?” Ben swallowed harshly at the question, ghosting a hand over your cheek as he gave you a soft smile.

“Let’s just say, you’re our Ben in this world,” a soft air of calm fell over you both, “and I loved him how you loved your Ben.”

That seemed to be all the explanation you needed, leaning closer and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Ben’s hands tangled in your (h/c) hair like they had been there a thousand times, the boy gripping at your clothes like it was his life line.

It was almost familiar, both of you reminiscing on your lost loves, but it was also brand new. Filled with a fire neither of you had explored since the tragic days you had both been through. Ben pulled at your black sweater, nearly ripping the fabric as he pulled you closer, pinning you between him and the bar.

“You siblings-” You gasped, hands tangled in his hair.

“Gone,” he slammed his lips into yours, “I promise they’re gone.”

You took him by the shoulders, pushing him back until you were both falling over the couch, landing on top of the beautiful boy.

“Are you sure?” He gasped for air as you pulled off your sweater, pulling off his top as well, a grin grazing your lips.

“More than sure.”

Ben grabbed you by the neck, thrusting his hips into yours as he pulled you back into a deep kiss, working his tongue into your mouth. His hands fumbled for your belt, you assisting him as you both stripped yourself of your clothes.

It was all too good of a feeling, the man grinning up to you with hooded eyes as his hands explored you in so many different ways. It almost felt like you were meant to be right here, on top of each other with soft smiles.

Ben’s hands squeezed your ass roughly, you soft moans filling the room as you grinded down on him, his heavy breathing following yours.

“Are you sure?” He muttered as he began to enter.

“Please,” you replied, stroking his cheek with a lazy grin.

He shoved himself inside you, keeping a steady pace as you threw your head back in pleasure.

“Ben, please.” It felt like bliss, grinding down on the man as he guided his hips to meet your own.

“Fuck, (Y/N),” a shaky sigh fell from his lips. “Feels so good.”

“Kiss me,” you uttered. The man not hesitating to pull you to his lips as he sped up the pace.

Unwilling moans were falling from your lips as you sloppily kissed the man of your dreams, him hitting all the right spots as you did so.

“Fuck Ben! Fuck, you’re amazing.”

“It’s you,” he shakily replied. “You’re amazing. You feel so good (Y/N)”

“I want you to come in me,” you scratched at his chest. “Please Ben, you’re amazing. You’re so good please, please Ben.”

“I love you,” he muttered as he released inside of you, both of you moaning loudly as you came on his chest.

Both of you ignored the words that had slid past his lips, you more so ignoring the fact that they had almost spilled from your own.

You gasped for breath, sliding off of the Sparrow, knees touching as you gave soft glances to each other.

“Well that was—”

“Amazing,” Ben cut you off, no hint of sarcasm in his tone. “Will I see you again?”

You stared at the handsome man, a soft smile on your face as you leaned in for one more kiss.

“As long as my siblings don’t find out.”

[period-of-nocturne]

I just finished to read Our Happy Ending and I can confidently said This Event Have Ruined My Life

To be honest ? I knew since the Little Mermaid this is what would've happen. No matter how you thought about it, the final obstacle for WxS to stay together always was Emu's tie to PXL. And for the game to continue, something like this had to happen.

But damn. They almost got me here. For a while, I really thought Emu wouldn't follow them.

Emu, smiling and telling them to not cry. That they should be happy to make a huge step towards their dream.

I wondered how many times she practiced those lines.

Rui asking Emu's brother if he could invite her was so funny. It sounded like a damn proposal. And I don't mean there was romantic implications there, I personally see none. But the whole discussion really sounded like some guy's asking a princess' hand to her father. It's hilarious to me.

Shōsuke and Keisuke keeping up the buissnessmen attitude up constantly is just too funny to me. Like come on guys, drop it. Stop talking about the park's future when you just don't want to see your little sister sad. I don't buy it.

It's funny to remember how much I wanted to punch them the first time they appeared. The way they disregarded Emu's dream, feelings and opinions was infuriating.

They did all the opposite this time. Involved her in their business talk at the start. Worried about how she felt. Encouraged her dream at the end.

They're on the same page, now. They all want the same thing. They'll take their little sister's opinion in consideration, even if she's away. They won't ever try to destroy the Wonder Stage anymore.

So it's okay, Emu. You can leave safely.

And also, know your grandfather, who cried of happiness by seeing a bear finally make friends, would never want you to be separated from yours, even more if it put you in such a state.

I'm sure he's happy for you, now.

But at the end of the day, I don't think it would have been the end of the world if she stayed at PXL.

It led me to think about what will happen to all of those kids in a bunch of years. Where they'll be.

A World Star, a Diva and an Alchemist, all three walking towards the same place. Poster of them on the streets. On the big screen, an announcement about an Idol Group performing in Tokyo Dome. A famous Band next concert. A Team of Two Duos coming back after a World Tour.

I don't know what Niigo will be doing in ten years.

I described their theoretical prime time, but thinking about even later is also interesting. When things start to settle down. The image of those kids, who'd be adults at that point in time, coming back to the place they knew. Meeting back with old friends. Remembering the good old time.

It's nostalgic. Bittersweet. But it's also sweet to think they could one day reach that point. To know they'll have a million things to remember about. It also feel warm. Soft.

I'm trailing off. Point is that it would have been alright. That someday, in a very long time, they might have to part way. And it will be alright.

It won't be the end of the world.

It can't be the end of the world. After all...

The World Hasn't Even Started Yet.

[susiekern]

1. the one with the movie night

a/n: first one, a bit short probably, but hey, we need to start somewhere, not proofread like usually

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol and nicotine, probably ooc

word count: 1,504

masterlist

“You coming or what?” Kugisaki Nobara, your beloved roommate and best friend, barges into your room. No knocking, nothing. Usual stuff.

“One minute, damn.”

You just finished getting dressed and are now trying to get your hair into a bun, which was a harder task than you anticipated. With a deep sigh, you give up, seeing how the redhead in the doorway started to bounce her leg. Nobara was a lot of things, but patient wasn't one of them.

“Fine. Let's go.” You roll your eyes and follow the girl to your front door, grabbing a leather jacket from the hanger but ignoring two rows of shoes underneath it. Not like you'd need those anyway. Your destination for the night was a whole two steps away, apartment number 235, where your second friend, Itadori Yuji, lives.

You've met Yuji when you were kids, and your grandparents neighbors. The pink-haired menace was living with his, while you'd often stay at yours when your parents didn't feel like being ones. You've spent a good portion of your childhoods together, mostly playing video games or looking for adventures in the neighborhood. Live made you part ways when your parents got divorced, and you moved out of Tokyo with your mom.

But the universe loves funny plot twists, so when almost ten years later you inherited the 234 apartment and decided to move back to Tokyo, you found out Yuji was back also. It was like this connection you had never died, back to friends from day one. Soon after that, Nobara moved in with you, and you became a golden trio.

It was almost two years ago, and while you loved living with your bestie, Yuji wasn't as lucky. He had two roommates over these two years, and it was… eventful, to say the least.

Roomie nr. 1 was a gym rat who looked like a fucking two-door closet on legs. He'd listen to his tragic hardcore remixes from 6 am, leave sweaty clothes everywhere, and he randomly decided Yuji was his best friend in the whole world. But the last straw was interfering with Itadori’s diet. Speeches about carbs, fats, and hollow calories got him an express ticket out of the apartment.

Roommate nr. 2 seemed a lot better. For the first two days, until Yuji invited him for a drink with you and Nobara to properly introduce him to you two. Sentences that fell from his mouth that evening would embarrass the worst simps and perverts. And then his hand landed on Nobara’s thigh. Thankfully he didn't even have a chance to fully unpack his things, because throwing the boxes out in the corridor was much easier than getting every single one item.

After those two charming specimens, Yuji stopped looking for a roommate. For a few months it was just him in the apartment, his older brother stayed for a few days once in a while.

So having someone move into 235 was a big thing. When he talked with Nobara earlier, he seemed excited, both about not living alone in a big-ass apartment and about living with his best friend.

“I bet you a 10 that he's ugly.” You murmur when she knocks on the white door. Before she could answer, Yuji opened up and gestured you inside.

“It's incredible how you live right fucking here and somehow you're always late.”

Walking into the living room, you notice a man walking around the kitchen, a wooden spoon in his hand. And damn, is it hot in here? Because after quickly checking out his black, messy hair, tall figure, and black shirt wrapping his arms and back well, you could swear the temperature just went up by at least 10°. You completely ignore the conversation between Yuji and Nobara, even the part when she said it was your fault, until Yuji raises his voice to catch his new roommate’s attention too.

“Megs, this is y/l y/n and Kugisaki Nobara, our neighbors and my pink squad.” Megs, as Yuji called him, puts the pan he was holding back on the stove, wipes his hands in the towel, and moves closer.

“Fushiguro Megumi, nice to meet you both.” He gives you a polite smile and throws a towel over his shoulder. His focus quickly goes to the bags that Yuji took from Nobara’s hands, helping to unpack drinks and snacks onto the island that separates the kitchen and living areas.

You decide to settle on the big plush couch, as Nobara grabs a can of beer and sits on a bar stool, tapping on her phone. The moment she puts it down on the marble counter, your own phone vibrates.

You were now at the end of the second movie of the night, and there was only one thing on your mind. As stunning as Megumi is, he is equally annoying. The first movie went nicely, the four of you talking through it. Usual stuff when you just met someone and want to learn more. How did you and Yuji meet? Where did you live before? What do you do for a living? That’s where somehow it all went wrong. When you said you’re a streamer, he looked at you with raised eyebrows and went, “for a living?” his voice laced with disbelief and sarcasm. And when he said he’s a guitarist and vocalist, you couldn’t stop yourself from repeating his words. Something that Yuji or Nobara would take as a joke, but apparently doing so when you just met someone wasn’t “nice.” After that, you almost got into a fistfight when Yuji tried to make the situation better and suggested you have a similar taste in music. This asshole dared to comment on one of your favorite bands, you bit back. Somehow even going for a smoke on the balcony turned into a squabble. That one’s on you, though, and your joke about slim cigarettes being called “pussy sticks” by you and Nobara when you saw the pack in his hand. Megumi just pointed at your vape, lifted one brow, and said, “look who’s talking”. The most annoying part? He acts normal and civil when talking to Nobara. Which means he’s not just an asshole in general, he doesn’t like you specifically. Rude. You all (Yuji and Nobara) decide to call the night early, hoping it was just a one-time clash of personalities and next time would be better. Except it’s not.

“He’s such an asshole!” There’s a redhead sticking out of the bathroom door when you shut the front door closed behind you and make a very loud, statement. Your roommate starts laughing at the sight of you, your flushed cheeks and body leaning on the wooden surface like you’re making sure it stays shut. “I’ll take a wild guess and assume you mean Fushiguro?” She asks, coming out of the bathroom. “Ding ding, you just won the game.” You sigh, maybe a bit too dramatically, and move to the living room to throw yourself face flat on the couch. Nobara follows you, waiting patiently for the explanation, knowing she’ll get it. You’d probably blow up without an occasion to vent, especially when it includes the black-haired man. For the past week, you’ve met him a few times, either in the corridor, when Yuji invited you for a pizza, or when you all went to grab a coffee from a nearby cafe. Each time was filled with you and Megumi going back and forth, throwing sarcastic comments like it was your actual job. “I went to remind Yuji about a stream, I go in, and he’s making food. Shirtless. Who on earth cooks without a shirt on? He has the audacity to tell me to take a photo so it lasts longer, like a classic fuckboy from books. AND THEN when I politely asked if he could remind Yuji about tonight, he said sure, he’ll tell him I want to play games together in the evening. That’s my fucking job!” When you finish talking, you wait for a minute for Nobara to show support, but she’s silent like never before. Lifting your head from the plushy pillow, you narrow your eyes on her, standing near you, hand covering her mouth, stopping the laughter. “Traitor.” “Sorry, sorry.” She wipes the non-existent tear from her eye and straightens up. “Did you stare at him cooking?” “Do I look like a simp to you?” “That’s not an answer.” With another fit of laughter, she dodges the pillow you throw her way and escapes back to the bathroom to finish her makeup. You weren’t staring at him. You were just... shocked. Yeah. Partially by the fact he was cooking like that, partially by how good his body was. You’ve noticed his arm muscles back during the infamous movie night, but you somehow didn’t expect his whole body to look… like that. Most men in Japan were skinny, with little to no muscles, so seeing washboard abs and a wide back like his wasn’t exactly unpleasant. Okay, maybe you stared a bit. Fuck.

[madrone33]

I have been CHILLING this week post-Vengeance saga release! I managed to avoid debilitating stress and anxiety from the onslaught of fan stuff by simply avoiding all social media for the first two days, so it's been good!

However, I am now BACK, dumping my immediate reaction of the saga from a week ago. I thought I was ready. I was not ready. 600 Strike blew my mind. I was left staring blankly at my ceiling. Jorge please rest sometime, I'm begging you. The amount of talent beaming through my screen is exhausting even me.

Also, to every cast member and collaborator and behind the scenes person: y'all are amazing. Like seriously. I hope you all get a yummy drink and a cozy blanket and just. Bask in the satisfaction of a job well done. Hats off to y'all fr.

Anyways! I keysmashed the following at around midnight, 14 hours before the livestream ('cause australia is the superior timezone /j). Be warned there's LOTS of swearing 'cause sleep deprivation + incoherent excitement lol

AHHH IT'S GO TIME

Ok it's starting the same as the Goodspeed festival showed. Tho, the first lead in sound thing reminds me of Lucids.

Gorgeous vocals. Hate Calypso, love Wangui fr

"Let me speak!" She really doesn't care about his feelings huh. I noticed in LIP as well, she always makes it about her, which is absolutely in character.

Those ensemble harmonies tho!!

"... You do?" Girl you literally told him to lie smh

"Why in the world won't you love me too?" 'Cause he has a WIFE

IT'S HERMES TIME

FSA melody? YO??

"Cause I had one goal in mind..." the silence where the crew's chorus would come in is PAINFUL

BAG?? HERMES!!

"Hello old friend!" Grinning so hard rn

"Well it's a little bit ✨dangerous✨" AHHH IT'S HAPPENING

Fingertapping and headbopping to this chorus

"Put your whole braiin in it!" I love how he says that sm

"And lastly the wind bag" NEW STUFF

WINIONS

Wow ok I did not expect the wind bag to show up again. Tho it makes sense; this is probs the storm that Ody told Sirenelope kept blocking the way home

ODY SINGING THE CHORUS!!!!

RUTHLESSNESS MENTION

"Hermes! Thank you" AHHH THE CALLBACK! He sounds so tired and like down to his bones grateful this time 🥺

"I'm not the one who fought for you!" MY EYES WIDENED SO FAR. WE ALMOST GOT AN ATHENA NAMEDROP. I'll settle for the reference to her

Okeee. Charybdis!!

Oooh it's just like in the reference vid. No lyrics for this start part!

The 5/4 is amazing. And the electric guitar!!

God this song is SO BADASS

LETS GOOOO ODY!!!

ahhh I KNEW there'd be some sort of soft KYFC esque "I can't wait to make some new memories" type verse AND I WAS RIGHT

he sees ithaca!! Oh god poseidon's gonna show up isn't he

my heart's beating so fast i'm scared

PENELOPEEE

the ELECTRONIC DISTORTION OH NO IT'S HIM

RIGHT INTO GET IN THE WATER AHHH

"Coward" AHHHH I CAN'T BELIEVE WE'RE FINALY HEARING THIS FOR REAL

"That's when our paths collide!" THE RASP

"Now get in the water" Oh shiiiit here we go

the choir is so eerie

"GET IN THE WATER" THE GROWL

"aren't you tired poseidon" ooh it's this part!!

ha he changed it to ten years instead of eight like the demo had XD

"maybe you can learn to forgive" the line from that one snippet!

"No" oop

"DIE" DAMN that deep echo!!

*underwater sounds* oh shit ody's fucking dying

NO! FUCKING POLITES

EURY

ANTICLEA

FUCK YOU JORGE

THE CREW

WAITING??? EXCUSE ME WTF

AHHHHHH WHY TF DOES JAY LOVE HURTING US SO

HUH? HUH??? WHAT WAS THAT! AND THERE'S A FUCKING AD. Probs good, I need the break but WAHT. I KNEW he'd do another fucking polites reference gods damnit jorge WHEN I CATCH YOU

Ok time to hear 600 strike. Holy shit we're here

ELECTRIC GUITAR LETS GOOO

Aeolus theme. IS HE GONNA OPEN THE WIND BAG AGAIN??

600 MEN MOTIF HOLY SHIT

ANIME SCREAM

HOly shit there's magic sounds happening. I'm really curious about whatever Jorge's cooking up for the animatic in the livestream, 'cause I have no clue what's happening rn 👀

"For every comrade!" FSA melody!

"all those _ who were slaughtered by your hand" hmm I can't quite hear what he's saying there?

wait wait wait he's ACTUALLY using the power of his 600 men!!

"You idiot" damn lol

DIFFERENT BEAST ODY HOLY SHIT

is that a blade sound effect?

WAIT DID HE JUST STAB HIM WITH HIS OWN TRIDENT

HOLY SHIT ODY

HOLY FUCK

POP OFF ODY

OMG "MONSTER" AND THEN "RUTHLESSNESS"

BRO HE'S BEGGING??

*trident drops* hot damn ody

"Next to my wife." OHHHHHHH MIC DROP

Holy FUCK that was crazy

I'm gonna listen to it again.

Ok but holy shit Odysseus literally just tortured a god until he gave in?? Daym ody

Tho I like how he tries using open arms first, and then ruthlessness. He's kinda found a balance? I say kinda, 'cause he went hard on the ruthlessness, but since he sincerely tried to ask Poseidon to just drop the whole thing already, his later actions in 600 Strike feel more warranted.

I honestly don't know how Jorge keeps doing it. He just keeps topping himself! Like! Thunder Bringer? And then God Games?? And now Six Hundred Strike??? They just keep getting better! Banger after banger, like!! How.

Wait I just wanna. Sit with it. Imma lie down and stare at the ceiling for a bit, aight?

... I am shooketh.

But BRO THAT WAS INSANE! ODY FUCKED HIM UPPP

AMAZING BRAVO EXTRODINARY INCREDIBLE SHOWSTOPPING GORGEOUS WONDERFUL HOW DARE YOU

[vierlieben]

Heavenly.

choi san x f!reader

genre: fluff

desc.: your boyfriend came home, feeling like the entire world is on his back. as a loving and caring girlfriend, you did something for him to make him feel not just "better", but "heavenly".

wc: 1,059

the hands of the clock told you that it's now 6:45 pm. then you continued washing the dishes. the sink's loaded after baking cookies for an order. you have been standing for like ten minutes now in here.

you know that any moment, your boyfriend would find you doing the dishes and would give you a warm back hug. as you were just thinking about that, you felt something pressed onto your body; arms wrapped around your waist, head resting on your shoulder.

you didn't even hear San enter the apartment, all you can hear is the flowing water—the faucet's loud as hell.

"well, good evening to you, mister." you greeted with a sweet tone.

you were thinking that he was just sleepy or lazy to talk, as how he always is when he gets home—but no, his head resting on your shoulder right now is heavier than ever. it is like the entire world is on your back. San is putting all of his head's weight on your shoulder but you didn't mind at all.

"hey," you turned your head to him, quickly finishing the dishes. "love, are you alright?"

you felt him shake his head lazily. few seconds passed and you are finally done with these damn dishes. you quickly dried your hands and turned around to see him; his eyes are half opened, shoulders almost dropping on the floor, and you can also feel the weight that he's carrying right now although you don't know what's going on yet.

"come here, what's wrong?" you wrapped your arms around his upper body, he rested his head on your shoulder again. "rough day at work? exhausted? tell me, baby..."

the caressing on his back made him feel calmer. San sighed so deeply. "i am not going to have rough days at work for a while because the investors in our company are now gone..."

you felt like tearing up when you heard that tone. it was low, and sad... this is your first time hearing your boyfriend talk like this and it's breaking your heart.

"oh, baby..," you gave him a couple of pats on his back. "you're going to be alright. i mean, it's fine to feel that way for now. but we're going through this, okay?"

"i know.." his tone sounded a lot better now. "it's just... i don't know, it kind of hurt me. I've been working for that company for almost two years now and it's going to close out of nowhere. i am just going to miss them. plus, i don't think i could ever stand being just here all day, doing and earning nothing."

"no, love, shush," you broke the hug and looked straight to his eyes. "come on, it's going to be fine. i will help you find a new job. but for now, the world won't end if you would just stay at home for a while with me, right? i will take care of you."

he painted an upside down smile and pulled you again for a hug. "alright then.. i just couldn't help but to feel bad. but I'm fine now that i head those from you."

"yeah..." you caressed his back once again. "would you do me a favor?"

you know so well that San is kind of workaholic... well, it's because he wants to earn and earn for his and your future together. he likes to invest in big things. he's been very helpful when it comes to financial problems, especially to his friends. that's one of the millions of things that you love about him—he is truly reliable, dependable all the time.

he can't stand it whenever he's not doing something productive. well, if it's not a job to work on, he'll be all over you; spoiling you, taking care of you as if you're a queen, taking you everywhere you'd like, just EVERYTHING. sometimes you'd feel bad because he's just doing things for you and often forgets to do something for himself, but then he would reassure you that he's fine and would finally do something about it just so you won't feel bad anymore.

"what favor?" he asked back.

"will you please stop thinking about getting a job for a while? maybe a month or two? just... i want you to get some rest, you need that. we have more than enough here, my love. what's very important right now is that you get some relaxation and time for yourself. everything's taken care of, keep that in mind. will you?" you asked him with the calmest, sweetest tone ever—the one that he won't even dare to disagree with.

he nodded, his head still on your shoulder but now lighter. "i will, baby. thank you, i love you. maybe i have been overworking a bit... i will rest for now."

"perfect," your eyes shined. you broke the hug and kissed his forehead. "now, come with me. i'll do something to make you feel better."

"but i already feel better—"

"just shut it and come with me," you glared at him, and he looked at you with his eyes smiling.

"how's that feel?"

San feels like dreaming — like he's on the clouds and there are angels singing for him.

he didn't answer your question yet. the whole bathroom is filled with nothing but silence.

he's like a child sitting on the toilet while you are shampooing and massaging his head. this is the kind of therapy that he's been craving for—too bad, why did you just think of it now? you could have made him feel good in this way before.

"hey? are you sleeping?" you whispered.

"i don't know what to say..." he whispered back, you almost didn't hear it. "heavenly..."

you smiled at the thought that maybe he's feeling so good. he really does. you're glad that you're finally making him feel this way...

"you should do this to me everytime that I'm taking a bath..." he murmured, eyes still closed. "will you?"

"you don't even have to ask." you replied. "i have been also wanting to do this but you take quick baths, how's that possible?"

he chuckled. "afraid to be late at work."

you two laughed silently.

"i'd do this to you as well, baby." he added. "maybe reward me with a kiss?"

"how many kisses are we talking about?"

[wildlife4life]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @rainbow-nerdss @loserdiaz @cal-daisies-and-briars @diazsdimples @thewolvesof1998 and @theotherbuckley Thank you so much! I'm super excited for all your upcoming works!

Going to be honest, the biggest reason I have been working on NFL Buck so much is because my favorite team (Kansas City Chiefs) has been doing very well in the playoffs. So fair warning, if they don't make it to the Super Bowl after this Sunday, writing for that fic will probably taper off and I'll switch to another. But until then, here is another snippet from NFL Buck and I'm hopping back to the end of the dosed arc. (All things NFL Buck can be found here)

Eddie gives him a nod of encouragement and Buck takes a deep breath, then releases it along with the majority of his nerves. He turns his full attention to Athena, her head still cocked with curiosity and her eyes gleaming with intrigue. Buck saw no hint of malice and with a squeeze to his hand from Eddie, his tongue finally loosened, "Eddie and I met when I was still in college. He was one of the paramedics on hand when I was knocked unconscious by a cheap shot from an Aggy. When I came to, Eddie was hovering above me and I literally thought he was an angle." Buck chuckles, remembering the moment his eyes opened and seeing the most beautiful man with the softest brown eyes surrounded by a halo of lights. "That was the concussion." Eddie snarks, but Buck can see the light blush on his boyfriend's cheeks from the corner of his vision. After all these years and Eddie still gets flustered by Buck's enamored compliments. "Well despite the head injury, I had a very hard time forgetting him and I tracked his fine ass down at our next home game. Asked him to dinner, and besides a few bumps along the way, here we are almost ten years later." Buck finishes and flashes a small smile towards Eddie, who returns it.

"And you've kept your relationship hidden all this time?" Athena questions sounding mildly impressed, but also a little sad. Buck deflates slightly, he always does when the whole secret part of his and Eddie's relationship is brought up. "We had to, or I had to. By the time Eddie came into my life, I had put in so much work and sacrifice to be where I was. I had dreamed of playing in the NFL since I was little and football was my greatest love at the time. But I also knew that the world I wanted to be apart of wasn't the most accepting of those who don't fit in the typical heteronormative box. Being an open bi-sexual man would lessen my opportunities and could have put my mental and physical health at risk. So I stayed closeted." "Yet you made the decision to pursue a same sex relationship." He gives the police sergeant a wistful smile, "The moment I met Eddie, I felt this amazing connection and then after our first non-date date, I knew I couldn't let him go, football career be damned." Buck looks over at the man who's held his heart since he walked though Red's door, "Eddie is the one person I know will always have my back and he knows I will always have his. He has never made me choose between my childhood dream and my future ones with him and Christopher." Eddie's warm brown eyes soften through Buck's declaration and the gleam of his adoration only brightens. The hand intertwined with Buck's squeezes three times and Buck squeezes back with the same iteration. Hidden I love you's that have no lesser value than visible one's. "I don't want Buck to lose one of the biggest parts of who he is because of bigots. And I don't see hiding our relationship as a sacrifice. Loving Buck isn't a hardship and part of that love is wanting to see him happy. Playing in the NFL makes him happy. Being with me and Christopher makes him happy. He makes me happy. A few lies and secretes aren't going to diminish that." Eddie states his gaze unwavering on Buck and his chest fills tender warmth at Eddie's proclamation.

Their relationship may be a secret but its real and true. Hope you all enjoyed!

Tagging (no pressure): @hippolotamus @devirnis @jesuisici33 @aroeddiediaz @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon @lover-of-mine @try-set-me-on-fire @fortheloveofbuddie @wikiangela @spotsandsocks @disasterbuckdiaz @bekkachaos @giddyupbuck @eddiebabygirldiaz @spaceprincessem @athenagranted @eddiescowboy @evanbegins @elvensorceress @malewifediaz @911onabc @911-on-abc @hoodie-buck @ladydorian05 @bigfootsmom @watchyourbuck @thekristen999 @spagheddiediaz @monsterrae1 @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess @bitchfacediaz @buck-coded @housewifebuck @glorious-spoon @buddierights @prosperdemeter2 @lemonzestywrites @gayedmundodiaz @transboybuckley

[thewritersaddictions]

Drabbles: Resident Evil 4- Body Talk

How might they react when they find out you don't like something about yourself?

Leon S. Kennedy

Leon is the sunshine, optimist, glass half full in your relationship. He's even like that when you tell him you're pregnant; even if he's gotta be the government work dog, he won't let that stop him from having a family. Your pregnancy goes bad; your baby comes out with all ten fingers and ten toes. The problem is it doesn't go to plan. You had been hoping for an at-home birth, but plans changed. Instead, your baby girl had decided that she didn't want to come out before her due date or even on her due date. She had opted to put you in a whole day's worth of labor, and that's when the doctors had called it. "We need to do a c-section." The plea of shock and unpreparedness was written all over your face, and your husband could see it.

"If that's what's best." He had said, and squeezed your hand. "it will be okay, baby." He had noted into your sweaty forehead. You don't remember much from your emergency c-section. You remember hearing your daughter scream and how beautiful she was when you saw her for the first time. Weeks later, you still think the same thing. It not until you're showering a month later does the reality of how fucked your body looks now hit you like a semi-truck into a brick wall.

You stand there in your panties and supportive bra. You aren't staring at yourself in the mirror. You're just staring at your no longer large belly. The c-section wound is still exposed to the air around, and you hold your hand over your belly. It aches and hurts. Leon comes in with your daughter in his arms. Lola, your whole world alerts you to their presence, and you try to grab your robe quickly. "What's wrong, baby?" Your husband acts like you; he reads people for a living, really, so you aren't surprised that you aren't able to just walk away from it. "Just lookin' at myself is all." You say as you tie the knot of your robe covering your body from him.

"You don't have to hide from me, ya know." Leon's words are soft and calming, but still, you can't imagine him looking at you the same ever again. That's because you don't see yourself the same way anymore. "Where do you keep going? Talk to me, love." Leon says as he takes a seat on the edge of your bed. Lola babbling in her sleep. You swallow hard as the tears you've been trying to keep at bay strike their revenge on you. "My body isn't normal anymore, my tummy won't ever be falt again, and I'll always have this damn scar, Leon." You ramble on, "I hate this feeling. You're doing all the work. I want to help, but I can't." Leon just listens and waits for you to finish. When you huff with frustration he knows you're done. "Baby, will you take a breath for a second." He says, and you do take a breath a deep inhale and exhale.

"Now, will you listen to me when I say what I'm about to say?" You nod, "You are beautiful to me, and I know that's not how you view yourself. I also know that you grew our baby girl here. You literally made a life." You interrupt him, "Hey, you helped too." You say giving your husband credit. Leon rolls his eyes, "Yeah, I did, but I don't want you to worry about trying to help right now. You need to heal, and like I said, you did all the work to get her here in the world. So please worry about healing and taking the time you need. I'm tellin' you right now, though, and I'll still keep lovin' your body no matter what." Leon admits to you. You bite your lower lip to hold the tears back. He gets up from the edge of the bed and walks over to you, kissing your lips. "Day by day, honey." You nod and kiss him back.

Albert Wesker

Albert had a strict dress code for working with him. White button-ups, paired with a black pencil skirt, expect you didn't fit the dress code. The dress code had been there for years before you arrived; you almost laughed in Alberts's face when he hired you as his secretary. Of course, it had grown into something else when he had asked you on a date and then another. Before you knew it, he asked you to move in with him. Still, you worked as his secretary. He liked how you filled out a pair of jeans, so he didn't mind spending your lunch break with him at a fancy restaurant or delivering meals.

The dress code only bothers you once you hear the other women working in the office commenting and talking about you. Their words are hurtful and strike something in your core. "She's such a charity case. That's the only reason he's with her. He feels bad for her." "I know, right? He could do so much better. Hell, she doesn't even follow the damn dress code." "It's because of her weight. You can see how fat she is in her face." You bee-line back to your desk outside of Albert's office. You shake your head as you sit in your chair. They might be right, though all your jeans are worn out between the thighs. Maybe you are just a charity case to Albert.

"Come on, darling, it's time to go home," Albert says as he exits his office. "Okay." You murmur quietly. You're quick to grab your things, and Albert waits for you patiently at the elevator doors. Waiting only causes more panic to settle in your body. "I think we should take the stairs." You say quickly. "why?" Albert asks, almost offended you'd suggest the stairs compared to the elevator. "I just thought it would be good for both of us since we've been cooped up in the office." You say but are distracted by the ding of the elevator doors opening. "Maybe next time, darling." When you arrive home, Albert tells you that he's making dinner. But you aren't listening, opting for listening to the words playing ring around the rosey in your head.

"Darling, dinners done," Albert yells across the large apartment. He has to come find you. You're sitting in your closet. Jeans and clothes surrounding you. "Did you not hear me?" "Huh." "Come to eat dinner with me." He says once more before reaching his hand for you to grab. You don't take it and push yourself up from the ground. Your whole demeanor sets all the alarms off for Albert, but he's trying not to guess the worst thing first. He follows you tot he dinning room, and when you play with your food instead of eating it sets off my alarms.

"Are you feeling alright, darling?" He asks, worried. "I'm alright, just not hungry tonight, is all." You tell him, "Okay." Albert says, even if he doesn't believe you. The next day, when he calls you into his office and offers you lunch, you deny him again, and before he can't a word in edgewise, you're back out at your desk. This morning had also been different. You had worn something less you to work. You had stiffed through all your clothes in search of a pencil skirt and a nice blouse. It's when he ventures out and hears his employyees talking amoungest themselves and hears your name that it clicks.

"Did you see she tried today, at least?" "yeah, but it's not like she looks good." "Mr. Wesker probably wasn't gonna take it much longer, and she is trying to get back in his good graces." "Well, let's be honest, nothing will fit her lookin' as fat as she does." Albert is seething, itching to catch them in the middle of gossiping, but he's far more concerned about where you are. That's when you come popping out of the stairwell. "My office now!" he demands the second he sees you. You scramble to get together and to his office before his door slams. "what's wrong, Albert?" Worry is etched in your voice. "what's wrong? What's wrong? You haven't been eating for the past two days, and what are you wearing?" About way too many questions are hurdled in your direction. "What do you mean? I told you I haven't been hungry, and I'm wearing what's in the dress code for the company." I say.

"That's such bullshit. What happened to your comfy jeans and t-shirts?" You shrugged, not really knowing what to say to him. "I guess I… wanted to change it up." You offer, but Albert shakes his head. "No, I know you; I know that wearing those fucking pencil skirts gives you horrible chub rub between your thighs and that you feel ten times better in your own jeans. So you are going to tell me the truth about why you're suddenly not eating and changing everything about yourself." Albert demands you. You fumble with your hands, "I overheard some girls talking about you and me and how you might think I'm a charity case, along with my weight being an issue. I thought maybe I could get better. Change a few things so you wouldn't wanna leave me."

Your words are raw, and so is the look of utter anger steaming under the sadness of you thinking you are enough for him. "Listen to me and listen real good. I like… no, I love the way your body is, and I like the fact that you don't wear all the preppy shit the others wear. I want your ass in a good pair of jeans and an old college t-shirt. I love you when you're comfortable, and about the leaving part, that's never happening. Because unlike those dimwits out there with their personality shoved up their asses. You've got everything I need."

You smile wide as you walk across his office and hug him. He hugs you back, "I know you wanna go fire thoses people, but you can't." You say into his ear, "No, but I can fuck right here and let you be as loud as you want so everyone you belong to me." Albert offers, you blush hard, "You can fire one of them!" "Nah, they're not worth it anyways."

Completed on: 11/16/23

Posted on: 02/04/24

[artemis-73]

Suptober Day 15: Sigils

By the time Dean gets back to the hospital, Mary is sitting up and begging her parents for a pudding cup. Her skin looks less sallow, her eye bags less pronounced. Dean knows that Castiel made good on his deal. The test results that come in over the next three days prove it. By the end of the week, Mary's back home.

Everyone says it's a miracle. A gift from God.

If Dean sends a thanks to Castiel through prayer, he's the only one who has to know. He's not even sure if demons can hear prayers.

Then with that uncanny itch under his skin that tells him the crossroads won't be the last time he sees the demon, he gets to researching. He knows he can't waylay his debt. In ten years, he'll die. But before that, he needs to keep the demon away from him and his family. Kansas State University's library has a small collection of scans of old religious texts. Some of them have pages of sigils they claim will keep all manner of creatures away.

He paints them behind the pictures that hang on his walls and carves them into the window sills. He puts a devil's trap under the welcome mat. He even gets a tattoo of the symbol that claims to ward against possession. It's small and hidden on his hip. He almost feels safer with it.

When he comes up for air, he finds Sam and Jess have adjusted to a new normal. Mary doesn't need them as much, and at a sage nine years old, she wants some space. For the first time in years, she has sleepovers with friends and gets to go on field trips. It takes almost six months for her to demand a weekend at Uncle Dean's. He doesn't take it personally; for a long time, he was just an extension of her parents, a safe place for her to stay if Sam and Jess were both busy.

Now, she gets to eat too much pizza and stay up past her bedtime. She's on her third slice—impressive for her size—when she blinks big blue eyes up at Dean and says," Thank you, Uncle Dean."

"For what, kiddo?" he asks absentmindedly. He might be a little too invested in Frozen 2.

"For getting the angel to heal me."

His blood runs like ice in his veins. "What angel?"

"Cassie-el." She trips over the name, but she says it like Dean should just know, and he does. He does. "Mommy and Daddy were in the hallway talking to Nurse Layla, and he sat on my bed and said you talked to him all about me and that you loved me so much he wanted to heal me for you. And then he touched my forehead—" She places two greasy fingers above Dean's right eyebrow. "—and I felt all better…except I was hungry."

"Have you seen him since the hospital?"

"No," she says around a mouthful of pizza. Then she turns back to the TV, like she didn't just send Dean's world reeling. He wrangles her into a crushing embrace that she whines and wiggles her way out of.

She doesn't say another word about it, and he can't bring himself to push, so he sits staring at the TV but not seeing a damn thing. She's half asleep by the time the movie ends, and it takes some convincing to get her to brush her teeth and wash her face, but finally, he tucks her into bed in the guest room.

With his mind still a 100 miles away at a crossroads in the middle of nowhere, he cleans up the living room. He's straightening the pillows on the couch when he feels it. He's not alone.

"Next time you start messing with sigils, make sure the scan is high enough quality to get all the details right."

Castiel is standing by the window, tracing one of the carvings with his finger. He looks the same: rumpled over-sized suit and sex hair.

"What are you doing here?" Dean asks. He angles himself so he's between Castiel and the hallway that leads to the guest room.

Castiel watches him shuffle across the room with what Dean thinks might be amusement. "I won't bother her. She's not who I'm here to see."

"Well, forgive me for being a little suspicious. First time she's spending the night, and suddenly you show up?"

"Oh, that's a coincidence. Our schedules just happened to line up."

Dean's not sure how he knows the demon's lying, but he feels it in his gut. And when Castiel's eyes dart around the room, he almost think it's not malicious.

"What do you want, Castiel?"

"A new boss, a branch transfer, some reprieve from the paper pushing…" He slips the tie from around his neck and crumples it in one pocket. As he undoes the top two buttons on his shirt, he says, "But I'd settle for a beer."

Dean weighs his options—he doesn't have many—and considers the time. He'd just be sitting up alone anyway.

"Fine. One beer. Then you leave."

Castiel ignores him, opting instead to start rooting through his movie collection. Dean leaves him to it. He grabs a couple of beers as quickly as he can. He's not a complete idiot; he's still wary of leaving the demon alone in his home, especially with Mary.

"You can stop worrying about her," Castiel says as he takes the offered beer. "I'm not going to hurt her. Or you, but you seem strangely unconcerned about that part."

"Forgive me for not believing a demon."

"I haven't lied to you yet."

"That I know of."

In a surprisingly human gesture, Castiel rolls his eyes. "You humans are so suspicious."

"You did short my dad eight years."

"I didn't lie to him for that. I told him if he wanted more, he needed to give more, and he agreed gladly… Or as gladly as I imagine he did anything. He was a miserable asshole, wasn't he?"

Dean grits his teeth. "Don't talk about my dad like that."

"You know, when John Winchester's son summoned me, I thought I knew exactly what kind of man I'd find. You are nothing like him. It's almost a shame to only give you ten years."

"Hey, if you want to give me more, I won't complain." Dean's voice wobbles strangely. He doesn't like the way Castiel almost sounds fond of him.

"Sadly, I can take more years, but I can't give them." Castiel actually seems disappointed. He shakes himself. "Let me fix the sigils."

"What, you trying to keep yourself out?"

The way Castiel looks at him makes him feel like a baby bird staring up at a hawk. "None of these will bother me," Castiel says finally. "Besides, there are things far worse for you out there."

Dean watches as Castiel fixes all the sigils he'd put up. He even does the ones in the guest room, and Mary doesn't so much as twitch in her sleep while he does. He adds some more and ignores Dean's questions about what they're warding against.

They're back in the living room, and memories of their first meeting are nipping at his heels when Dean says, "Thank you, by the way. For…you know."

"For Mary? No thanks needed. You did sell your soul for her. Besides, I heard your prayer."

"Oh. I wasn't sure if you would."

Castiel smiles then ducks his head to try to hide it. "Yes, well, I did." He fiddles with his half-empty beer bottle.

When they'd first met, in the middle of the night at a crossroads, Dean had known Castiel's eyes were blue. But now, standing in his living room with the lamp beside the couch on, he can appreciate the exact shade, like a summer day when the sun's just hot enough to bleach the sky a lighter blue.

He practically leaps backwards. He's not sure when or how they ended up so close to each other in the middle of the room. He pretends to study the sigils on the windowsill—the same one Castiel had been tracing not an hour before, he realizes belatedly. He can feel Castiel behind him. He knows that Castiel has gone back to looking at his movie collection. He closes his eyes and starts counting down from ten. When he gets to one, he'll kick Castiel out.

He gets to five when Castiel asks, "Is this any good?"

Dean turns to find him holding up a copy of Tombstone. He can't help but scoff. "Is it any good? It's one of the greatest Westerns ever made, man."

Castiel hums thoughtfully and goes back to studying the cover. And the thing is, it shouldn't matter. The demon can watch an old Western on his own time in his own cozy little corner of hell.

But.

But Dean loves showing people Tombstone, and he's never gonna say no to a rewatch. They sit on either end of the couch and burn through an entire six pack before the posse is even formed. Castiel's focus never wavers from the screen. It's like he's expecting there to be an exam at the end of it. Dean's pretty sure he spends more time watching Castiel than the movie.

He nods off before Doc kills Ringo. The last thing he remembers is Castiel taking the beer bottle from his hand. He wakes up the next morning in his bed with a glass of water on his nightstand.

[etoilehistoire]

When talking about Astarion’s choice to ascend or not, we tend to act like it's our choice. The player decides if he ascends or not. But... there IS a roll involved. Yes, as players if it doesn't go the way we want we can always reload and try again, but... in-game, the characters don't have that option. What would happen, then, if a Tav desperately tried to talk him out of ascending... and failed? Rolled a one? What might they do? What might happen next?

This story takes place after the end of the game.

The little farmhouse was in the middle of nowhere – no other homes in sight, miles from the nearest town.

Not that Wyll was surprised. In her shoes, he’d surely value his solitude too.

It was pretty, he noticed as he rode up the path. A dark brown roof over white walls, almost completely hidden behind trellises of morning glories, climbing roses, and other flowers. A spray of sunflowers nearly hid the door. Berry bushes sprawled across the front yard in glorious disorder, many of them sporting ripe fruit that filled the morning air with a sweet scent. And there, filling a bowl with blueberries, her dark hair pulled back in a scarf, was Xia.

She turned when she heard his horse's hooves, a slow smile spreading across her face. “I’ll be damned. How long has it been? Ten years?”

“At least,” he agreed with a grin. Hopping down, he clasped her arm in greeting, and wasn’t the least bit surprised when she pulled him into a full-bodied hug instead. “Oof! You’re strong as ever. Country life suits you.”

She looked well too, he mused a moment later, stepping back to look her over. Her hair had a little grey at the temples, and crow's feet were beginning to form at the corner of her unscarred eye, but she seemed more at ease with herself and the world than he remembered her being before.

She laughed at the comment. “I suppose it does. But what about you? I didn’t expect to see you out here in the middle of nowhere! How’s the war going? How’s Karlach? How’s her heart?”

He threw up his hands in mock surrender, laughing. “So many questions! And the answers are all related. The war never ends, of course – it will outlive all of us. But sometimes you have to step away from battle for a moment, to focus on more important things.” He smiled, a softness entering his voice. “Karlach's new heart is treating her well. It’s stable. So stable, in fact, that… well, that’s part of what I came to tell you.” His dark skin flushed even darker. “We’re expecting.”

She gasped. “No.”

“Yes! Dammon's with her now; she’s already complaining about us coddling her.”

Xia laughed, the sound open and free. “Oh, I’ll bet. Tell her you’ll knock her down and sit on her if she doesn’t behave.” Looping her arm through his, she continues. “You have to tell me everything! Let me show you around while you do; I’ve got a little orchard started – the trees won’t bear fruit for another year or two, but it’s pretty. And oh, do you like tomatoes? Please say at least one of you does, I have so many tomatoes and I don’t know what to do with them all…”

She’s freer with her words now too, he noted, holding back a smile as he let her ramble on. She gave him a quick tour; he dutifully admired the gardens, and smiled at the chickens and the cantankerous goat.

Finally she gave him a sideways glance. “But happy as your news is, it could have been delivered in a letter. And you didn’t come all the way out here to see my flowers and be loaded up with spare vegetables. What’s up?”

He gave her a gentle smile. “Actually? I wanted to check on you. I was surprised to hear you’d hung up your sword.”

She smiled, but it seemed more reserved now. “I got out of the game, Wyll. It happens.”

“Doesn’t usually happen to someone who makes the kind of name for themselves as you did.”

She was silent at this. After a long moment he added, gently, “They’re singing songs about you, you know. About what you did.”

Now her shoulders sagged. “Ah.”

“Is it true?”

She looked away, dark eyes staring off into the blue morning sky. “They would hardly sing songs about it if it wasn’t.”

He touched her shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“What is there to say?” She still didn’t look at him. This, this was the Xia he remembered, careful and closed-off. It made him sad to see. “The ascended vampire lord has been destroyed and his budding empire torn down. I dealt the death-blow myself.”

His heart hurt for her. He, too, had grieved what Astarion had become, but he’d never been as close with the vampire as she was. Xia had always been driven to do the right thing, but he couldn’t imagine how it must have felt, having to kill her former lover. “Is that why…?”

“Why I stopped?” She shrugged. “I made a mess, Wyll. It was on me to clean it up. Once I did, that life didn’t have much appeal for me anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and meant it. “We should have been there with you. You shouldn’t have had to do it alone.”

“I did have an army with me,” she replied mildly. “I was hardly ‘alone.’” Glancing over at him, she gave him a small smile. “I’m glad you weren’t, honestly. It makes me happy that you and the others are living your lives. You deserve some peace.”

He returned the smile. “Well. So do you.”

“And I’ve found it.” She leaned into him, wrapping an arm around him in a half-hug. “Listen, I do want to catch up, and I have missed you, but I’m afraid I have to be a bad host. The house is a mess – turns out I’m a much better gardener than I am a housekeeper – and I never get company out here so I don’t have a guest room set up. Maybe we could-"

Just then the door banged open and someone strolled out of the house. Lanky build. White, curling hair. Skin tanned pale gold from the sun. Pointed ears. Clutching a mug of coffee in his hand.

“Darling,” he drawled, “did a blight destroy our berry bushes overnight? Did you have to plant entirely new ones before you could pick the blueberries? I don’t mean to be impatient, but you promised me muffins, not abandonment-"

“Astarion??”

He froze. She froze. Wyll stared between them, his eyes growing wide as he tried to process what he was seeing.

Then Xia turned toward him, slowly, with the absolute strangest expression he had ever seen on her face: a guilty, sheepish smile.

“Explain.”

 

~15-20 Years Earlier~

 

Astarion sat on Cazador’s- no. His throne, now. His, all his, and he should be happy about it, damn it. Instead he drummed his fingers, their last conversation playing in his head.

“You will regret leaving me. More than anything else you live to regret.”

She’d simply looked at him with her quiet eyes. “No, Star. The only thing I regret is that I couldn’t stop you from doing this to yourself.”

He scowled. What did she know? He hadn’t ‘done anything to himself’ except seize the power he deserved, the power that always should have been rightfully his. After 200 years of pain, of fear, of being weak, now finally he was the one who was strong. He would never be afraid again. He could have kept her safe too, could have given her everything she ever wanted. Instead she rejected it. Said she liked him better when he was weak. When he was pathetic.

She didn’t deserve him. Didn’t deserve the gifts his power would have bestowed. So be it. She could grow old and suffer and die, while he was beautiful and strong forever, and he wouldn’t care. He was better off without an ingrate like her anyway. He would put her entirely out of his mind and never think of her again.

*

It didn’t go as well as he’d hoped.

The first thing to do, of course, was make new spawns. He was powerful, of course, but he was only one man. An army of offspring, all loyal to him, all able to be controlled by him, would increase his power exponentially, allow him to effectively be everywhere at once.

So he started.

His first spawn was less than pleased by his new fate. That was fine. Astarion hadn’t suffered under Cazador all those years without learning a few tricks to break the will of a rebellious slave. If the boy couldn’t see the advantages of serving the most powerful vampire lord to ever exist, he would instead learn the folly of resistance. He’d come around in time. Astarion would make sure of it.

The second, by contrast, took to it like a duck to water. She had a streak of cruelty that delighted him, and she was a sensible girl, able to understand the quid-pro-quo of “serve me loyally, and I’ll be good to you.” Yes, she would work out nicely.

It was when he was out hunting his third spawn that he hit a snag.

A tall girl. Well-muscled from hard work. Dark hair, dark eyes – a round face with a serious expression. Not Xia, of course, but similar enough to her that they could have been sisters.

He brought her back, of course, fully intending to turn her. As he should have turned Xia, nevermind that she said she didn’t want it. Once it was done she would have seen the benefits, and even if she hadn’t, she couldn’t have left him then anyway. He should have done it.

Her face came back to him, the way he’d seen it last. Cold. Sad. Judgmental, as if she had any right to judge him. He snarled, the rage filling his mind, and lunged.

When he drew back she was dead, her glassy eyes staring at the ceiling as the tattered remains of her throat slowly dripped onto his second-best couch. Ugh. Such a waste.

He made his first spawn clean up the mess – it would do the boy good to get used to such things. His second spawn (he should learn their names eventually, or perhaps give them new ones) he sent out to hunt a replacement. “And,” he added, glancing back to the cooling corpse. “If you can… find someone who looks like her.”

He could control himself better the next time. Of course he could.

*

He saw her again, a year or so later.

By that point his influence had grown enough that he was making alliances with other power players, but he wasn’t quite high enough – yet – to force them to come to him. So he was traveling, visiting a strange town to seal a deal.

He hadn’t had to hunt himself for months – his pets brought him all the fresh blood he could want. Still, there was nothing quite like the thrill of the chase, and he was in a new place where his face wasn’t widely known… so why not? Why not, for old time's sake? He donned a cloak, headed to a nearby tavern, and watched the crowd.

And there she was. Singing, for the gods' sake, like she was some common wench and not a paladin. His lip twisted in pity and disgust. If she’d only listened to him, she could be living in luxury right now, her every whim seen to, instead of debasing herself like this. Singing for her supper. She might as well whore herself out.

He stayed and listened, his fury growing as he did so. The song was sad, and told the story of a woman who had loved a powerful man, but her love wasn’t enough to keep him with her and so he had abandoned her.

How dare she. As if she hadn’t left him! As if he hadn’t offered her the world, if only she’d stayed! How dare she paint him as the unfaithful one, how dare she mourn their love! She had no right!

His hunt forgotten, he waited for her until she left the lights of the tavern. Stepping out of the dark night, he grabbed her by the throat and forced her back against the wall. “You know, darling, if you miss me that much you could always come home.” He bared his fangs, moving in closer. “Your place as my consort is still open. In fact, I’ve half a mind to put you there anyway – there are others who would kill to be my most beloved spawn, you’d learn to appreciate it in time.”

A blade pressed against his throat – gods, he’d forgotten how fast she was. Cold eyes stared into his. “If.”

He considered his odds. Her throat was right there – but lunging for it would mean the dagger slicing into his own neck. Possibly he could incapacitate her before it cut all the way through… but possibly not. “Beg pardon?” he asked, playing for time.

“If.” Her gaze grew, if anything, even harder. “I told you that it was a big ‘if.’ That I didn’t see it happening. But it’s getting closer.”

He stilled. He remembered now – a conversation long ago, around a fire. How pathetic he’d been then, cringing and sniveling, as if he needed her approval or affection. “Oh, pretty paladin, please tell me you aren’t threatening me.”

“Not a threat. A warning.” Now she leaned into him, bringing their faces close. “I know that ethics won’t move you, nor morality. Not love, not mercy, not kindness. You’ve seen to that.” Her words were quiet and emotionless, fired at him with a dreadful matter-of-factness. “So I’m appealing to enlightened self-interest. Keep your predations to a reasonable level, vampire. For your sake and mine: don’t become something I’m honor-bound to kill.”

He snarled, hate twisting his features. The blade biting into his neck was becoming uncomfortable; he took a few steps back, pretending it was his own idea, glaring all the while. “The arrogance. You really believe you could do anything to me? To me?”

She sighed. “Oh, Star. You know I was never afraid of you, right? Not once. Not even with your teeth in my neck. That hasn’t changed.” Her knife disappeared, vanishing into whatever hidden pocket she’d drawn it from. “Perhaps you should have been more afraid of me.”

And with that, she turned her back on him – deliberately – and walked away.

And Astarion, for reasons he absolutely did not understand, let her.

*

It wasn’t enough.

He wasn’t safe enough.

He wasn’t strong enough.

He had an entire horde of spawn bound to him, yes, but they could only operate at night. That was a limitation, and limitations were weakness.

He’d had the idea, once, to cover the city in fog and clouds, blocking out the sun, making it safe for his little pets. So he did. It took a while, of course, but he figured it out in the end.

Of course, then the people in the city were angry. There were rumblings of discontent. That wouldn’t do. The city should be his – he deserved that much, didn’t he? And anyone who disagreed, well. He always needed food. And he always needed entertainment. Those who spoke against him could provide both – quietly at first, then as publicly as possible – until no one else dared to speak.

So the city became his. But then it occurred to him – it was only one city. A single city could be destroyed, could it not? No, it wasn’t enough. To be truly safe, to be truly powerful, he needed multiple cities.

He needed an empire.

And, after all, why shouldn’t he have one? Why shouldn’t he rule this land? Who could stand against him?

Some years into this, the rumors first reached his ears. Whispers of tales told in taverns and common rooms, songs sung in secrecy. The story of a paladin who had been betrayed by a vampire lord, who would ease her heartbreak by taking revenge on her evil ex-lover.

He was furious. He sent out an entire squadron of spawn, with instructions: tear out the tongues of anyone heard repeating this rumor. He nailed the tongues to a board in the square, scores of them, a grisly display for all to see.

But the stories kept being spread.

Soon it was more than whispers. An army was amassing to the west, led by a scarred paladin, sworn to bring him down. Xia's name seemed to be on every pair of lips – a beacon of hope, they called her. A hero, come to free them from the scourge of – well, of him.

He hated her. Gods, he hated her. How could he have ever thought he loved her? It wasn’t enough to abandon him, to throw away everything he’d tried to give her. She had to try to destroy everything he was working so hard to build, too? Everything that would finally, finally make him secure, safe, happy?

They moved slowly. First a tiny border town, one he had only barely secured. The spawn he’d left in charge was killed, the fog dispersed. The people were free.

He sneered when he heard it. ‘Free.’ Free to live their miserable, pathetic lives, perhaps. To die meaningless deaths. Instead of being led by someone with vision, someone who would have protected them, who would only have taken a few lives here and there – and even then, those who died would have known they were sacrificing to further a glorious cause! But no. They wanted to live and die like animals? Fine. He didn’t need that town anyway. He had others.

But her army didn’t stop there. They moved forward, inexorably, whittling apart his budding empire and growing stronger all the while as people flocked to her banners.

He screamed as the reports came in, as he heard of each new city lost. Sometimes he took it out on the messenger. Sometimes he took it out on the townsfolk. So what if he did? It was her fault anyway, for angering him like this.

Then they were there, in his home city, moving closer, fighting pitched battles in the street. It should have been impossible for them to fight him here, in his own territory, but here they were, growing closer by the day. Until the city was theirs. Until they reached his walls.

And stopped.

They didn’t move on the castle.

Maybe they were recovering from the battle, licking their metaphorical wounds. Maybe they didn’t think they were strong enough. Maybe they were doing reconnaissance, or building a powerful weapon, or waiting for the stars to align. Whatever the reason, they stopped, and for months there was a stalemate. Astarion took advantage of it, building up his defenses and training his pets. If they were going to give him breathing room, he’d make them regret it.

Then, after several months, something changed. He wasn’t sure what – he shuddered, as if someone had walked over his grave, and afterwards he knew something was different. Something had fundamentally changed, and he hated that he didn’t know what.

A week after that, the attack came.

The fighting in the lower levels wasn’t going well, he could tell by the sound. His spawn were fighting for their own lives and his, he’d summoned wolves and bats and everything else he could think of, and yet the army kept coming, kept slicing his forces apart.

And then she was there.

In his private rooms. Alone.

He grinned when he saw her. “The years are catching up to you, Xia. Is that grey I see in your hair?” He clucked. “Should have let me turn you when you were still young and – well, as pretty as you’d ever be.”

She regarded him quietly, naked sword in hand. “I didn’t come here to talk, Astarion. I came here to kill you.”

“You still think you can?” He sneered. “Your little soldiers down there might be able to defeat my spawns, pretty paladin. But I am the ascended vampire. You cannot bring me down.”

“I can,” she said – calmly. Steadily. “And I will. I promised to make it quick, Astarion. And it will be.”

With that, they flew at each other.

She was every bit as fast and strong as he remembered – more so, even, after the decade or more she’d had to improve. But he was stronger too. Faster. And he had more tricks up his sleeve.

He drew first blood – the fingernails he’d allowed to grow long, had sharpened into talons, missed her neck but scraped against the melted flesh of her scar. He paused, grinning, and licked a drop of blood off of one of them.

Hells below, it was sweet. He’d forgotten how good she tasted.

“Oh, I’m going to enjoy draining you dry,” he purred, and lunged again.

He relished the look of surprise on her face the first time he turned into mist, her sword passing harmlessly through him. He danced around her, waiting for her to grow tired and out of breath, something he no longer needed to worry about.

She stabbed. He misted. He laughed inwardly at the confusion in her eyes as she looked around, trying to figure out where he was this time. Silently, he materialized behind her, moving in for the kill.

Too late, he realized it had been a feint, as she whirled to face him, knowing exactly where he’d be.

Too late, he saw the blade swinging for his neck.

Too late.

Too late.

In his cold dead heart, he hadn’t actually thought she could kill him, any more than he could kill her. Oh, he could consider it. Fantasize about it, even. But actually do it? No. They were bound together. He would disarm her. Render her helpless. Then turn her, as he always should have, and they would be together. Forever. As it always should have been.

He was wrong.

There was the excruciating pain of the sword through his neck. The sickening spin of the world as his head left his shoulders and tumbled down. The darkness taking over his vision.

Then nothing.

*

The first thing he was aware of was… warmth.

He was warm.

That was new.

He opened his eyes to see Xia bending over him, her eyes red and puffy, tears streaming down her cheeks. That was wrong. Xia never cried. Not once, in all the time he’d known her.

“Oh gods,” she gasped out, as soon as she saw his eyes open. Then, standing, she stumbled away, turning her back to him as her shoulders shook.

Carefully, he sat up. His body felt… weird.  Something was on him, littering his lap and the floor near him. Little stones, or gems maybe, but hollow and blackened as if they’d been burnt from the inside. He touched one and it crumbled to dust.

Something was wrong. Something felt wrong, familiar and alien at once. He stilled, trying to feel it, to understand what was happening to his body.

It was a heartbeat. It was his heartbeat. For the first time in over 200 years.

He stared at the paladin’s back. “Xia… what did you do?”

The answer was slow in coming. When it did, it was in a voice that was dull and despairing. “I undid the most important choice you ever made for yourself. I ignored your wishes and turned you into what I wanted you to be, without your consent. That’s what I did.”

His breath (he had breath!) caught. He stared at the crumbling gems again. Diamonds, he realized. Or they had been, before.

He remembered… oh, he remembered the ritual. He remembered Xia trying to talk him out of it. He’d ignored her, so sure he knew what he was doing, so sure it was the only way.

He remembered everything he’d done after.

His stomach heaved and he doubled over, retching, unable to bring anything up except strings of yellow bile. Still the horror and disgust washed over him in waves.

He'd become his own worst nightmare. He was as bad as Cazador.

No. He was worse.

When he finally regained the ability to speak, he croaked, “Why?”

She shrugged – one-shouldered, listless. “Because I’m selfish? Because I knew I needed to kill you, but I wasn’t ready to live in a world without you in it? Because I would rather have you alive to hate me dead.”

He shook his head, not understanding. “No. Not – what? Why would I hate you?”

She hesitated. “Star. You made a choice. You chose power. That was your choice; my choice was to fight you. And that choice was mine to make… but I didn’t have the right to take your choice away. You’ve been treated like a thing for too long, you deserve to make your own choices about your own life. And I knew that, and I did it to you anyway. Knowing it was wrong.”

He felt sick. “No. I didn’t – I didn’t know. Xia, please, I – I chose to do the ritual, yes. But I didn’t know it would be like this.” He swallowed. “I didn’t know I would be like this.”

She did turn then, tears streaming from her eyes, turned and knelt with him. Shaking, her hands reached out to cup his face. Hope, wild and fierce, blazed in her watery eyes. “You didn’t? Star. Please. Swear it. Tell me you didn’t want… this.”

He shuddered, shaking his head fiercely. “I swear it. Xia, the things I wanted to do to you – I would never.” He covered his face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Strong arms wrapped around him then, holding him close; he let himself lean into her embrace, feeling like he didn’t deserve it. “You should have killed me,” he whispered. “You should have let me stay dead. The things I did… Xia, you don’t know the things I did.”

“You can tell me,” she murmured back, “if you want. But it wasn’t you. If you didn’t know what the ritual would do… then you didn’t choose what you’d turn into. The person who did those things, it’s not you, and it’s not anyone you would choose to be.”

“It was still my hands,” he whispered. “Still my voice that gave the orders. You tried to warn me.”

“I did,” she replied, rubbing his back. “With things I guessed. Suspected.  Not things I knew. You were scared. You wanted something to make you strong. I wouldn’t have believed my warnings either.”

He had nothing to say to that, unable to believe in the easy forgiveness but unwilling to reject it either. He clung to her in silence, until the shaking stopped.

Finally he asked, “…What happens now?”

“Mmm. My army is pretty gung-ho on ‘kill the vampire,’” she mused. “Probably you’ll want to lay low for a while. I’ll tell them you’re dead, and after things calm down I can smuggle you out of the castle.”

He nodded, sitting back and wiping his face. “I’ll… I don’t know where I’ll go,” he admitted, “but I’ll figure something out. I won’t make trouble for you, I promise.”

She frowned. “…Oh,” she said after a moment. “I mean… yes, of course you can go off on your own, if that’s what you want.” She hesitated. “I just… can I give you anything? Money, supplies?”

He shook his head, not looking her in the eyes. “You’ve given me the greatest gift I could ask for. I’m… Xia, I’m alive.” A laugh escaped him, soft and disbelieving. “I never thought, never even dared to hope… it’s freedom. True freedom. A second chance, despite everything I’ve done. I… I couldn’t ask for more. I’ve done enough to your life as it is.”

Silence. Then slowly, tentatively, gentle fingers reached out to push hair away from his face. “I mean,” she said, hesitant. “You could do more.”

He looked up then, meeting her eyes with a look of utter confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I delayed my attack for months – over the loud objections of my generals – until I could get my hands on the magics that could bring you back,” she said. “Because I didn’t want to risk killing you for real. I mean that even knowing that I had the magic to fix it, it still hurt more than I can say to see you dead by my hand. I mean that I didn’t do all of that because I never wanted to see you again afterwards.”

Now his eyes filled with tears. “Xia. You can’t mean that.”

“Can’t I?” She met his stare unflinching, and there – in her dark eyes, there she was, his quiet, pretty paladin. “Astarion. My Star. I love you. I’ve always loved you. Nothing has changed that. Nothing could.”

He shook his head. “I’ve killed people. Enslaved people. Tortured people, mutilated people. For bad reasons, when there was a reason at all. I don’t-" He ducked his head. “I don’t deserve you. I never did.”

“Oh, Star.” She reached out, her fingers soft in his hair – and then, suddenly, she was gripping his hair, gently forcing his his head up like she did the first time he fed on her, when he lost control. She raised his head until she could meet his gaze. “I already cut your head off once.”

He stared at her. “I. What?”

“I already cut your head off once.” Her mouth twisted. “It almost killed me to do so, but I did it. Was that not enough punishment? I can do it again, if you need me to; bringing you back should be much easier now. Or I can just yell at you a lot, if that’s easier. Tell you what a horrible awful person you are and why you should feel bad.”

His heart lightened even as he scowled. “You’re making fun of me.”

“Little bit.” Her grip on his hair loosened and she sat back, ruffling the curls once before letting her hand drop entirely. “I could tell you again that I don’t blame you for what you did, but you didn’t believe me the first time, so. Let’s do this instead. You say you don’t deserve me. But what do I deserve?” She leaned in. “Do I, or do I not, deserve to finally be with the man I love? After fighting for him all this time?”

Gods, she was going to be the death of him. Again. He swallowed hard. “Can you blame me for thinking you could do better?”

“Better than the love of my life?” She smiled. “Can you blame me for not believing that that’s possible?” He melted. How, how could she still believe such things about him?

She touched his cheek again, her thumb running lightly over his cheekbone. “Beloved. My night has been empty for over ten years.” She leaned in. “Please. Give me back the stars?”

He felt himself sag forward. Felt his lips meet hers.

It felt like giving in. It felt like giving up.

It felt like deciding to live again.

 

~Present Day~

 

As the story wound down, Wyll reached for another blueberry muffin – they were really very good. “So… a combination of Wish and True Resurrection? Clever.”

Xia nodded. “I cast Wish ahead of time, to undo the time limit on my next use of True Resurrection.”

“Which I felt,” Astarion chimed in. “It was itchy, feeling someone mess with my fate.”

“I’m not sorry. Anyway, I took a week to recover from the effects, and then the rest is history.”

He nodded. “How did you know it would work?”

“She didn’t.” Astarion arched an eyebrow, smearing butter on a muffin. “Which I remind her of all the time, that if her theory had been wrong I would be dead for good.”

“Yes, you do, love, and it’s not traumatizing at all,” Xia deadpanned, poking him. “But, Wyll, you can see why we keep it a secret?” Her eyes met his, pleading. “You and I, we knew him before, and we understand the circumstances. But someone who lived through the Dark Times… whose son or daughter or sister or husband was taken to the castle and never returned… they wouldn’t forgive. They’d come looking for him.” She glanced at the elf by her side. “Maybe they’d even have a right to. But gods help me, I don’t care.”

He nodded slowly. “No, I… I understand the predicament. But… well, you understand I’m not the only one who cares about you two?” He leaned in across the breakfast table. “Astarion, I’ve talked to some of the others from back then. We all grieved, when we thought you were dead.” He glanced at Xia. “And for you, when we thought you’d had to kill him.”

Astarion blinked, but recovered quickly. “Hmm. I would have thought I’d burned those bridges long ago. Surely a decade or so of terror matters more than a few weeks of sharing a common enemy?”

Wyll reached out, laying a hand across his pale wrist. “You were our friend. We didn’t forget that, even after you changed. We never stopped caring about you.”

Astarion blinked again, then looked down; there was a rustle under the table, like the sound of one person kicking another. “I told you,” Xia murmured, then turned to Wyll. “Every new person who learns a secret increases the chances that it will get out,” she said seriously. “That’s why I was trying to get rid of you before. Nothing personal, just. That’s how the numbers work.” She sighed. “But… we do trust you. If you’re in contact with the others, if you think they can keep this secret… we’ll trust your judgment.”

He felt a rush of warmth within him at the words, at the two cagiest members of his old party choosing to trust him with something so monumental. “It’s been about fifteen years,” he remarked. “Maybe twenty. Might be high time for a reunion. We could have a party and everything.”

Xia and Astarion glanced at each other, a whole conversation seeming to pass between them. Finally Xia sighed, turning back to him with an expression of resignation that didn’t actually hide the joy beneath the surface. “You’re really going to make me set up that guest room, huh?”

He grinned. “I am. I really, really am.”

[heavyhitterheaux]

Best Friend Shit

First Lady of Private Garden Instagram AU

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, danivalentine, sza, brysontiller, quiiso, yungskylark, saweetie, and 3,459,182 others

y/ninsta: best friend shit. I love you until the end of time and even after that urbanwyatt 💕

urbanwyatt: got your back always and forever. love you. new year, same shit.

danivalentine: y/ninsta will literally beat someone's ass over urbanwyatt 😭😭😭

y/ninsta: danivalentine you got damn right. I don't play about any of my babies in privategarden 😤

yungskylark: I still remember the time when we were at that party and a dude was trying to get her number. Urb kept warning him to leave her alone and then he proceeded to get his ass beat by all of us lmaoooo

urbanwyatt: yungskylark I didn't like the way he was looking at her and of course at that exact moment, jackharlow had gone off to do something and I was like he is about to have our asses if we don't protect our girl

jackharlow: I know yall will protect her as much as I do and I'm grateful for it.

quiiso: jackharlow nah but you're ten times worse. do you remember when we all went on that ski trip our senior year and there was another school there and one dude kept looking at her? I was like today is the day that Jack is about to get arrested 😭😭😭

2forwoyne: and we had to hold him back lmaooooo

jackharlow: he was asking for it now he knew good and damn well she hardly left my side for the entire time we were there so obviously she's taken

jackharlowsource: soooo are we still not talking about it? jackharlow did you find your wife's p*ssy yet? jackharlow: jackharlowsource I never left it

claybornharlow: I thought I was your best friend?

y/ninsta: claybornharlow you're my little baby, you know this. stop acting brand new.

jackandy/naremyparents: and jackharlow is big baby!

y/ninsta: jackandy/naremyparents since when?

allthingsy/n: yall getting on my nerves. stop stressing us out.

neelamthadhani: this has to be one picture where you aren't terrorizing Urb y/ninsta: neelamthadhani I do NOT terrorize him urbanwyatt: y/ninsta LIES y/ninsta: okay fine, but only on days that end in y saweetie: y/ninsta lmaooooo aye yo urbanwyatt: y/ninsta imma kick your ass smh

Liked by y/ninsta, jackharlow, mortirolo, softtcurse, danivalentine, shloob_, champagnepapi, and 1,294,056 others

urbanwyatt: one of my favorite pictures of 2022. Woke her ass up at 3 am to give her all of her birthday gifts and scared her ass lmaooo

y/ninsta: urbanwyatt I still haven't kicked your ass for this 😭

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta my gifts made up for it. all that shit yall see in the pic, I got her and a lot more that isn't even on there

y/ninsta: I should have mopped the floor with your dumbass softtcurse: y/ninsta I second that. he woke me up early one time and almost got a smack to the face. he learned the hard way that day urbanwyatt: softtcurse I woke you up so we could catch our flight, next time I'll let your ass sleep and leave you y/ninsta: urbanwyatt I muthafuckin dare you to leave Yasmin. I will really beat your ass softtcurse: she loves me 💖

allthingsy/n: what in the world did he wake you up that early for?!

y/ninsta: so urbanwyatt hardly ever sleeps and I don't see how and he actually wasn't supposed to be back until noon, but nah what does his dumbass do? wake me up at 3. him and jackharlow were in on it

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta you know you missed me

y/ninsta: urbanwyatt your dumbass shouldn't have left in the first place

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta you were born at 3:18 am so I had to wake you up then

y/ninsta: urbanwyatt how the hell did you even know that?

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta I'm not telling so don't ask again, best friend shit

y/ninsta: urbanwyatt I should have kicked your ass out after you did this and beat up jackharlow but he ate me out after to make up for it so I didn't

danivalentine: y/ninsta girl shut up, no you wouldn't. you can't live without either of them

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta we have literally lived together since we were eighteen and of course he did 🙄

y/ninsta: jackharlow I still remember urbanwyatt almost burning down our first apartment

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta THAT WAS YOU

jackharlow: y/ninsta that was definitely you, baby girl

y/ninsta: jackharlow urbanwyatt I'm innocent

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, 2forwoyne, druski2funny, laflare1017, champagnepapi, estgee, normani, and 5,084,831 others

y/ninsta: alien superstar. category: bad bitch

trust urbanwyatt to always bring my ideas to life 😭😭😭

urbanwyatt: I always got you mamas

jackharlow: 😍😍😍

normani: bad bitch indeed

dualipa: sooo, are we about to role play tonight or what? bring this outfit

brysontiller: dualipa me first

jackharlowsource: not everyone fighting for first lady in the comments 😭😭😭

y/ninsta: what can I say? the people love me

jackandy/naremyparents: and jackharlow isn't one of them fighting over her?

jackharlow: jackandy/naremyparents she know where home is

allthingsy/n: what the hell is that supposed to mean?!

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta we have a situation....

y/ninsta: urbanwyatt what did your dumbass do now?

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta I think Leonardo ate my weed again

y/ninsta: urbanwyatt I told your dumbass to not put it on low surfaces! put it higher so he can't get to it!

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta I turned my back for one second!

jackharlow: urbanwyatt you getting my kids high again?

urbanwyatt: jackharlow not on purpose, I swear 👀

Liked by urbanwyatt, 2forwoyne, jackharlow, champagnepapi, druski2funny, lilnasx, sza, theestallion, and 2,760,326 others

y/ninsta: me too sis, me too 😭

jackharlow: I knew that shit was a front. saying you missed me but the whole time you missed Urb 🙄

y/ninsta: jackharlow I missed you too big baby

jackharlow: y/ninsta stop lying. once you got there, you IMMEDIATELY ran and jumped on urbanwyatt

y/ninsta: jackharlow but I hugged you right after!

jackharlow: y/ninsta 🙄

y/ninsta: jackharlow meet me upstairs so I can make up for it

brysontiller: y/ninsta I'll take you up on the offer if jackharlow doesn't

allthingsy/n: brysontiller WHAT

jackharlow: y/ninsta give me fifteen minutes

urbanwyatt: jackharlow be happy claybornharlow wasn't there. she would have ignored both of our asses

claybornharlow: urbanwyatt you damn right. little baby over everybody. I come first.

y/ninsta: claybornharlow are you having fun in London? bring me something back

claybornharlow: y/ninsta I am and I already got it

dualipa: y/ninsta is already in my bed so jackharlow brysontiller yall can cut it out

sza: dualipa oh my damn

jackharlow: dualipa okay. check your phone in two minutes since you want to be spreading lies allthingsy/n: y/ninsta who gives the best hugs? jackharlow or urbanwyatt? y/ninsta: allthingsy/n brysontiller 🥰 jackharlowsource: I literally CANNOT with them

liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, lilnasx, druski2funny, dualipa, sza, normani, danivalentine, and 2,385,690 others

y/ninsta: I still don't know how his dumbass perfected this. I have tried multiple times and failed each time

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta because you don't have the magic touch

y/ninsta: urbanwyatt my magic touch will be my foot up your ass if you don't teach me how to do this

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta just for that, no. stop getting smart with me

y/ninsta: urbanwyatt fine. softtcurse YASMIN, URBY WON'T TEACH ME HOW TO DO THIS

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta SNITCH

softtcurse: y/ninsta I'll teach you, I know how

allthingsy/n: it is safe to say that urbanwyatt will never be able to get away with anything because y/ninsta will tell Yasmin lmao

softtcurse: allthingsy/n someone has to keep his ass in check. I couldn't date her, so I had to settle for him

urbanwyatt: softtcurse EXCUSE ME?

softtcurse: urbanwyatt kbye 😘

jackharlowsource: everybody wants y/ninsta lmao but it's safe to say we have no idea who she's even dating at the moment

y/ninsta: jackharlowsource I'm married to jackman thomas harlow. we all know this.

jackharlowsource: y/ninsta from recent activity, we had no idea!

y/ninsta: jackharlowsource yall know us better than that. didn't you say he needed to find me and find me fast? lmao

jackharlowsource: y/ninsta I did lol

y/ninsta: jackharlowsource he never left

jackandy/naremyparents: SO WHAT IS THE TRUTH?

softtcurse: y/ninsta let me know when he does

urbanwyatt: YASMIN!

softtcurse: urbanwyatt why am I going to sit up here and lie? your best friend is fine as shit and I am not talking about jackharlow

jackharlow: softtcurse well got damn

softtcurse: jackharlow no offense, but um... your wife? MOST DEFINITELY

dualipa: softtcurse gets me lol

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[dr-futbol-blog]

The Defiant One, Pt. 7

While McKay is audibly upset, putting the distance between himself and McKay seems to have calmed Sheppard down considerably. The way he's chatting to McKay over the radio is almost domestic, like they're just a long-distance couple on a phone call.

He notices frost in a shadowy spot so to distract McKay, he attempts to engage his mind with a problem: "D'you have any idea how long the days are on this planet? ... ‘Cause I got a feeling the nights are pretty damn cold. Sub-zero cold."

This is something that McKay probably could have figured out, and may even have wanted to figure out in some other situation. Now, he doesn't even entertain the question because he has a single-minded conviction that it's a mistake for them to be separated.

Also, Celsius? Fahrenheit? In either case, tactically their best course of action in that situation would be to get together and share body heat. Could be where John's subconscious was also leading him but he's not listening to it.

The thing is. Brendan is watching Rodney, listening in on this discussion. He's making mental notes, coming to conclusions. He's seeing something taking place between them. Got to wonder what he's thinking, overhearing all of it.

Sheppard attempts to keep a conversational tone. McKay is trying every angle he can think of to convince Sheppard that going after the wraith is a bad idea. They have the following exchange:

McKay: We're six hours overdue. Assuming they waited an hour before sending a rescue mission... Sheppard: There's a very good chance it's gonna be dark before another Jumper can get here. If we play the waiting game, the guy who's been around for ten thousand years is gonna win. McKay: Major, anyone or anything capable of surviving that long is gonna be a serious adversary. Sheppard: Well, not if I get him out in the open. He won't know about our weapons. If all goes well, I'll fly the Jumper back and pick you up. McKay: And if all doesn't go well... Sheppard: It will. McKay: Well, things haven't gone all that well thus far. Sheppard: You know, Rodney, these guys do die if you have enough fire power. McKay: Eventually, yes, but... Sheppard: Try and stay positive. How's Gaul feeling? McKay: He can move his toes. Sheppard: See? Things are looking up!

Sheppard attempts to distract McKay using reason ("he won't know about our weapons"), using humour ("10,000 year old guy is going to win the waiting game"), using flirtation ("I'll... pick ya up"), using friendliness ("Try and stay positive"; here used in the non-military sense to undo the previous), using intimacy ("Rodney"), using reassurance ("They do die"; "It will"), misdirection ("How's Gaul"?). We've seen before how Sheppard uses his charm as a weapon when he needs something from someone or needs someone to do something, needs things to go his way. Here, he is trying every trick in his book to get Rodney's support for his mission, to convince him that he's right. It's not working.

This is a man who is used to getting anything he wants from anyone simply by flashing a smile, using his charm.

I have to emphasize again that McKay is not afraid, here. It is not out of fear (at least, not for himself) that he wants Sheppard to come back. It's out of concern. And nothing Sheppard throws at him is enough to distract him from this, from something that is vitally important to him -- the other man's safety. The only thing that seems to work momentarily is redirecting his concern to Brendan.

Sheppard engages the wraith via radio. He lies about them winning the war, about himself being Lantean, the wraith being the only one of its kind left in the world, everything. He lies about everything and he does it very naturally. He's very convincingly working an angle. And it's pretty interesting that his angle seems to be to emphasize the loneliness of someone that seems to have spent the previous 10,000 years alone.

Sheppard had self-isolated to the most remote part of his world after the events in Afghanistan, possibly punishing himself through self-imposed loneliness. Because loneliness is what hurts him the most.

The wraith doesn't want to believe what he's saying is true, but Sheppard certainly seems to be able to plant the seed of doubt. He's using just a little bit of the truth to tell a bold faced lie.

Sheppard's plan was to lure the wraith out of the jumper and shoot it but instead, he gets shot himself. It seems Rodney was right about it being a serious adversary. And Sheppard was wrong about everything he told McKay: he managed to lure it out into the open but not take it out, it did manage to quickly learn about their weapons, he wasn't able to get the jumper, he did not have enough firepower (his P-90 malfunctioned), and things did not go well. And again, it is not that McKay pessimistically assumed that everything would go wrong but that he was very much concerned.

Usually, Sheppard is the more strategic of the two. He is the strategic thinker. While he had devised a plan of action here, it seems that he was still acting too rashly, went in too stubbornly, single-mindedly. And it was never because of the ship but because he needed to put some distance between himself and his own feelings.

If he could just take out the wraith. If he could save Rodney. It wouldn't bring back the dead but it might stay their ghosts from dragging him down with them, at least for a while.

Again, Sheppard feels the need to contact McKay right away, while he's still bandaging himself up.

Sheppard: McKay. McKay: Major! What's happening? Sheppard: I thought you should know -- round one was a draw. McKay: I don't like the sound of that.

He gets no "I told you so" from McKay, only more concern. Sheppard actually tells him "I thought you should know," which is very sweet. He wants to keep Rodney informed even though there's no real tactical reason for doing that. He needs to stay in contact, he does not want to be alone in this. There is no way he could have taken McKay into the danger zone with him but regardless, he needs the other man's company.

As much as he feels the need to run away from this, to keep the distance, to keep those protective barriers around himself, he is more and more unable to do that. Rodney is just... there. He's just there and he's not going away.

He continues, and note that it's because they're talking over radio, it's because there's physical distance between them, that he's actually able to share some of his feelings:

Sheppard: Me neither. I took some fire. McKay: Are you injured? Sheppard: Yeah, that's what I mean by "I took some fire". But I don't think it's too bad.

It's quite possible that this is far from the worst injury Sheppard has had but he's still lying to comfort McKay here (McKay actually tells Brendan "That's comforting, huh?" thinking that what he's hearing from Sheppard is everything but comforting). McKay can hear his breath rattling, Sheppard is telling him to put a gun into Brendan's hand in case he doesn't make it back to them. All of that has got to sound pretty concerning to McKay.

One thing I want to point out here that is relevant with some later episodes. We hear Sheppard end his call with "Sheppard out" here. But we did not hear him say it earlier between his line "Things are looking up!" and his engaging the wraith via the communication system. There is a little bit of the conversation between Sheppard and McKay that is missing to us, the audience. Now, later on we're going to have an entire episode (The Game, S03E15) letting us know that there is a whole world of things happening between them that we don't get to see, but here is one of the first indications of something missing. And there are going to be bigger chunks missing in future episodes.

McKay gets even more agitated over hearing an explosion (one assumes, through the radio). Sheppard tells him that he almost blew himself up. He also tells McKay to stay off the radio because he's "busy" and, because he's probably a little bit embarrassed about just almost having done himself in with an alien weapon, he doesn't elaborate more on the situation. McKay, that is, doesn't really know what's happening and is all the more agitated by Sheppard not explaining like he did earlier. Regardless, he feels the need to explain Sheppard's behaviour to Brendan (repeating his words, "He's--- busy!"), and if they were displaying mom and dad fighting in front of the kid energy in front of Brendan before, this has the energy of making excuses for your spouse's behaviour written all over it.

This is when Brendan lets McKay in on what he has been observing for a while now, listening to them go back and forth (and probably more than once echoed Sheppard's sentiments from the beginning of the episode: "Alright, knock it off, guys. I've spent the last fifteen hours listening to you two!"). It's not that McKay wants Sheppard to come back to them. It's not that he's afraid and needs the Major to come back and protect them. It's that he wants to be with Sheppard, and since Sheppard is out there, McKay also wants to be out there with him. This is not at all like the Rodney he knows.

McKay doesn't want to admit it. But Brendan is not wrong, every bone in his body is telling him that his place is with Sheppard.

Continued in Pt. 8