#and despite the fact that they all feel real

[soft-beams]

vi x reader, parallel universe!vi x reader | character death (reader)

ekko paints a picture of you.

"I wanted to show you something," Ekko tells Vi before he's leading her and Powder to where he's made his masterpiece. He doesn't know how Vi will react; if she'll be overcome with joy or overwhelmed with immense sadness.

Maybe she'll get angry and storm off, too hurt by the painting to truly express how she feels. But Ekko feels like doing this is worth that risk because hopefully, in a way, it will provide Vi with some closure.

When they reach the mural, Ekko stops and watches Vi and Powder take the remaining steps forward. He takes in how Powder's face lights up before she's pursing her lips with a slight tremble. He can tell that she's trying not to cry, and Ekko wants to pull her into his embrace and tell her that it's okay to let it out.

Vi's harder to read.

She's staring up at the mural, expressionless, and Ekko worries that he may have crossed a line. Vi's silence is deafening; it shakes him to his core, and he almost steps forward to apologise when Vi asks:

"Is this...them?"

Ekko swallows and nods as he replies, "Yes." He walks up until he's by Vi's side. "I took some artistic liberation and...imagined what they would have looked like if they hadn't..." Ekko stops himself, finding the words still too hard to say.

Vi stares and stares until she's closing her eyes, letting out a trembling breath.

"They're even more beautiful than I imagined," she whispers, barely loud enough for him to hear. Powder hears it too because she's smiling, sniffling as she wipes at her eyes.

"Yeah, a real looker," she says. "They were cute when they were younger, so it's no surprise that Ekko made them a bombshell." She looks at Ekko, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Should I be worried? Did you hold a candle for our dear friend here?"

Ekko chuckles and shakes his head. He's never held feelings of that sort for you. Yes, he did think you were pretty when he was growing up, but it never escalated beyond that. Besides, everyone knew that it was Vi you were going to end up with. Because it was you and Vi and Vi and you, and it was so obvious, the love you held for each other.

Still is obvious back in his own universe, but...he wishes he could have seen you thrive here. Happy and alive with no reason to run or hide. To be at peace with the people you love and who love you.

"They were everything to me," Vi says after a moment of silence. "They were my world in a way that was different from you guys." She gives a rueful chuckle. "Barely grown up, and we were already talking about getting married. We knew we wanted to be each other's for the rest of our lives." She then sighs. "Then that damn explosion happened, and they protected me. Made sure I survived, and I still...still deal with the guilt."

The silence settles among them again, but it only lasts for a second as Vi breaks it.

"But I know they wanted me to be here for Powder," she continues softly. "And know they'd be cursing me to the ground if they knew my thoughts." Her lips curve into a gentle smile. "But at least, I can look at her now and see her a bit more vividly in my dreams." She looks at Ekko, smile still in place. "Thanks, Little Man."

Ekko nods, unable to speak due to the tightness in his throat. If only...if only he could tell Vi that there's a universe where you did survive. A universe that isn't as great as this, but you're together and manage to find happiness despite all the shit thrown at you.

If only he could tell Vi that's what you really look like. That's how you've grown and how you've transformed.

If only.

But at least he can take solace in the fact that he's graced Vi with some form of closure.

In the form of a picture of you.

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Accidental Influencer

In which you're reminded why you fell in love with Lando in the first place.

Warnings: nothing Pairing: Lando Norris x Influencer!Reader Word count: 1.5k(ish)

based on this request Master List

yourinstaname posted

598,029 likes liked by landonorris, charlottetilbury, kikagomes, and others yourinstaname 'tis the season and all that (tagged: charlottetilbury, landonorris) user444 love when we get @/yourinstaname and lando content >>>user837 for real. charlottetilbury so excited to see you tonight!!! user009 body goals fr landonorris hey cutie, you got a date for tonight??? >>>yourinstaname eh, just my boyfriend but i'm willing to ditch him if you're offering 🤭 >>>user928 their interactions are always so sickeningly cute. >>>user829 always flirting, never serious. my favorite F1 couple fr.

You hadn't meant to become an influencer. Honest to God, you really hadn't. But then your Get Ready with Me, Cheerleader Edition had gone viral during your senior year of college and that had been that. Even though you'd been in the influencer world for a few years now it was still a place where you weren't totally comfortable. Sure, you had made some really good friends and had even found the love of your life in F1 driver Lando Norris but there was still something about the parties and late nights that had you feeling anxious sometimes.

Anxiety that spiked on nights like this, despite the fact that you had brought said boyfriend with you as your plus one, where you found yourself just wanting to run back to Lando's apartment and snuggle on the couch.

It had been a few weeks ago when the email invite had landed in your manager's inbox inviting you to Charlotte Tilbury's annual Christmas party in the heart of downtown London. It was a big deal that you'd been invited, an American that had moved across the ocean 2 years ago, and your manager had insisted you go and network. You had been reluctant even back then though. It had been a difficult and busy year, with Lando's season being hectic and you trying to be there for him as much as possible while fulfilling the brand deals and obligations you needed to do. You wanted nothing more than to spend the evening alone in your flat hibernating with your boyfriend.

In the end, it had been Lando that had convinced you to go, offering to be your plus one. Which you were now regretting as you stood in the corner of the room near one of the giant Christmas trees watching the room buzz with activity.

Girls in tiny sparkly dresses stood in little groups, laughing and socializing. Girls that were dressed to the nines, makeup applied perfectly probably by professionals. Girls that kept tossing you glances every once in a while, as if they were wondering what in the world you were doing with someone like Lando. Fairy lights twinkled above, creating a soft ambient glow that you knew would create good lighting for some photos later in the evening.

Across the room, you spotted Lando standing at the bar getting you another French 75, your favorite drink of the moment. Lando stood behind another plus one date dressed in a charcoal grey suit waiting to order you a drink. As he waited, his head turned just slightly and you caught his gaze, the eye contact with you sending a cool shiver down his spine. You'd been dating for nearly two years now and the sight of you still set something squeezing in his chest you were just so pretty. But beyond your looks, you were authentic and felt everything so deeply and fully, something that he found was missing from a lot of people in your world. He knew you didn't like these kinds of nights but he was so proud you had put your anxieties aside in order to put yourself out there.

Once the drinks were ordered, Lando started back towards you, surprised to see you chatting with one of the other girls that had been invited. As he crossed the room, his eyes stay locked on you despite several women trying not so very subtly to get his attention. A few just simply called out his name, voices thick with flirtation and innuendo. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your boyfriend approaching and also noticed how many heads turned in his direction, sending something painful twisting in your stomach. You struggled to keep the conversation up with the girl across you, someone who you'd met a few times before and genuinely did like, just watching Lando approach you with 2 drinks in his hands.

"Baby, look they put glitter in the drinks tonight." Lando gushes when he finally reaches where you're standing, handing you your drink before slipping his now empty hand around your waist.

A sharp streak of desire skitters across your skin at being claimed by Lando as he pulls you in for a quick kiss. The small reassurance that he's here for you and only you settles something in your bones and you don't miss the glint of jealousy in your friends face as she watches the two of you come together.

"You guys are so cute together." Fiona coos across from you. "How did you meet again?"

Your eyes dart over to Lando, and he winks at you, encouraging you to answer the question. A small smile plays on your face as you recount the beginning of your story with him. "I had been invited to be at the Miami race last year by Ferrari."

Next to you, you can practically feel Lando roll his eyes. 2 years later, he's still bitter you started off as a Ferrari fan and not in papaya. You pinch at his arm softly, knowing that he was shaking his head at the thought.

"And I was in the paddock when Fernando Alonso went flying down the sidewalk and nearly took me out. My knight in shining armor pulled me out of the way just before I was nearly made road kill."

"Swept her right off her feet." Lando quips as he squeezes your hip, nostalgic smile playing at the corner of his mouth as he barely resisted the urge to kiss you right in front of everyone.

"He offered to take me to lunch in the McLaren hospitality suite after threatening to put Alonso into the wall as retaliation for nearly killing me."

"I was a goner the moment I saw her walking down that sidewalk and then Nando did me the biggest favor of my life." Leaning down, Lando nuzzles into your neck, not caring that your friend is right there, watching you both with an amused smile on her face.

"I somehow found myself in the McLaren garage a few weeks later in Montreal, which someone still refuses to admit he's responsible for two years later." You bump your hip against your boyfriends, grinning over at him like a lovesick puppy.

Lando just shrugs, "I had absolutely nothing to do with that." He says, faux innocence lacing his voice.

Which, of course, was been a total lie. Seeing you draped in Ferrari scarlet had jealousy coursing through his veins the entire time he had been with you that first day in Miami. Lando had fallen hard and fast for you, something that had taken him completely by surprise. The way you laughed so quickly and easily, the way you put your entire soul into anything you did, the way you loved so loud and so boldly had him craving time with you, no matter how short it was.

He had gone straight to the PR department the next time he had been at the MTC, requesting special VIP passes be sent to you to the next race you were available for. Gina, who was responsible for coordinating guest passes and celebrity invites, had been shocked at his insistence at inviting someone who didn't do F1 related content or anything but had, of course, complied with the driver's request and began working on getting you to another race.

When that invite had landed in your managers inbox, you had agreed nearly instantaneously, remembering how good it felt to have Lando's full attention on you even as briefly as it had been in Miami.

"God, you guys are so cute, it's gross." Fiona gushes as you two get lost in each other's gaze as if she's not even standing right in front of you.

Lando reaches in his pocket for his phone before handing it over to Fiona. "Would you mind taking some pictures of us in front of the tree?"

You glance over at him, somewhat surprised at his request. It wasn't that Lando didn't like taking pictures with you, most of the time he indulged your requests because he did love getting those pictures together with you and he knew it was part of your job, but you knew that he preferred his privacy when it came to his personal life. "You sure?"

Lando nods, no hint of insincerity on his face. Fiona takes Lando's phone without hesitation and directs the pair of you on the best angle to take advantage of the twinkling fairy lights above and on the tree behind you.

As you listen to your friends direction, enjoying the way Lando's hands sit heavily on your hips when he pulls you closer, you're filled with gratitude and appreciation for your boyfriend, glad he had insisted you come tonight despite your initial reservations.

yourinstaname posted

299,948 likes liked by therealfiona, landonorris, charlottetilbury, and others yourinstaname It's the most wonderful time of the year. thank you to @/charlottetilbury for inviting us out for such a lovely evening. (photo cred to @/therealfiona.) (tagged: landonorris, charlottetilbury) therealfiona I should look into a career as a photographer. lovely to see you babes, can't wait to see you for New Years!! >>>yourinstaname profesh photog material for sure! xox landonorris whoever had the idea to take these pictures deserves an extra kiss tonight >>>yourinstaname you're literally sat two feet away from me rn, come get your reward. >>>user938 i'm obsessed with boyfriend lando >>>yourinstaname me too! 😉

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[norapretzel]

I wake up in my bed. My room is the darkest it has ever been, and I cannot find my phone to turn on my flashlight. I stand up and make my way towards where I know the light switch is, when I find it, it does not work. I open my door.

I walk into the rest of the house. The house is the darkest it has ever been. It is silent, I cannot hear anyone. I try to call out up the stairs, but my voice does not make noise. I start panicking. I try to scream as loud as I can, and try to run for my parents bedroom. I make it up the first set of stairs to the living room.

I wake up in bed. My room is the quietest and darkest it has ever been. I know I'm dreaming now, and despite the fact that I hit the point of lucid dreaming, I cannot wake up. I roll out of bed, trying to scream, to speak, anything. My voice makes no noise. This time, I make it halfway up the stairs to my parents room. None of the light switches exist anymore.

I wake up back in my room. My room is still pitch black, and my bed makes no noise when I roll over. This time, when I call out, I make a tiny noise. I can hear someone upstairs. I believe I'm out of my dream as I stand up and walk towards the door. As soon as I grab the handle-

I wake up in my bed. My room is pitch black and dead quiet.

I will be stuck in this loop for a long while. Sometimes I will find my dad, but I'll wake up right after asking him for help. Sometimes I won't even make it out of bed before I feel my eyes open again and I'm back in it. It is the only nightmare I get stuck in now. I grew up with night terrors and learned how to either change genre of dream to reverse the terror, or wake myself up. Usually, all it takes is maybe like 10 seconds of nightmare time for me to go full lucid and wake myself up.

Sometimes, when I "wake up" in my bed in this nightmare, I try so hard to pry my eyes open. I can feel my real eyelids flutter but nothing can wake me up. My current record is about 17 loops before the dream let me go. By the end, I know I'm stuck in a dream, and no matter what I do I can't even change the smallest detail.

When I finally wake up, in my real bed, the first thing I do is turn on my lights and leave the room. Depending on the time, I sometimes go finish sleeping on the couch in the living room.

This is now my only nightmare, and I have it about once a month on average, sometimes more. I have learned how to end every reoccurring nightmare except this one, and usually lucid dream now to the point of changing dreams whenever I get bored.

There is never anything else in the house with me, and the only person I have ever seen is my dad, but he doesn't always appear, and he never can help me, if he tries I just restart the loop again. I can no longer sleep in the dark without white noise or another person with me, because waking up to a silent dark room now gives me panic attacks.

These nightmares started about 4 years ago I think? And are only ever in my current bedroom of my current house.

rb with your most common recurring theme in your nightmares. mine is pregnancy

[bucketbueckers]

I'D RATHER PRETEND

CHAPTER FIVE

tags: @angryflowerwitch @avvwritesstufff @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @bueckersg1rl @l0verl4ne @clouded-whispers @dolliest-thena @katemartinlvr @numberonepartyanth3m @glamourdaya @pbbucks @unadulteratedcyclepaper @paiges-1vur wc: 6.3k notes: masterlist ahead? uh yeah i sure hope it does! decided last minute i didn't really care about any real plot action this chapter outside of tess and paige so if you are disappointed by that, sorry but it's better this way, tess and paige are the plot now🤞 accidentally made this chapter kinda important, it lowk got away from me, but i hope you all enjoy 🫶

‘This Month in Review - The Cutest Sports Couple Since Megan and Sue’

Whether you’re a sports fanatic or a casual watcher, there is no denying that Paige Bueckers and Tess Kennedy have taken the sports scene by storm. They are a topic of conversation in every room – and for good reason. Bueckers and Kennedy were top recruiting prospects out of high school, with Bueckers leading the pack as the #1 recruit and Kennedy following close behind as the #2. They are the current leaders of two superstar programs and despite not having played their full collegiate careers, Bueckers and Kennedy have already cemented themselves as players that will go down in history as the greatest to play college basketball at their institutions.

Bueckers and Kennedy are a power couple through and through, and while neither of them have made anything official, it is clear that they have spent this entire offseason together – even several hundred miles apart. Fans have pointed out that their recent TikTok reposts make references to missing a long distance lover or are largely relationship focused. Their Instagram stories often feature each other. From Kennedy’s Instagram, a recent story showcased a short clip of Bueckers holding a LEGO rose, winking as she blew a kiss to the camera. From Bueckers’s Instagram, a recent story included a FaceTime screenshot of Kennedy, grinning as she threw a thumbs up for the photo, and it was affectionately captioned, “My duo 🎮.”

Additionally, they have been noticeably active in each other’s Instagram comment section:

[IMAGE TRANSCRIPTION: MAY 30, 2023 | BUECKERS IS PHOTOGRAPHED WEARING A LEG SLEEVE, BLUE AND WHITE PATTERNED BASKETBALL SHORTS, AND A BLACK LONG SLEEVED SHIRT ROLLED UP TO HER ELBOWS. SHE IS MID-JUMPER, LEFT ARM EXTENDED AND RIGHT WRIST BENT. USER PAIGEBUECKERS: “TUNNEL VISION ON A MISSION ��” | USER TESSKENNEDY25: “I AM LOOKING RESPECTFULLY 👁️” END TRANSCRIPTION.]

Their galavanting didn’t end there. They made their relationship known through TikTok live one night, featuring Bueckers, Kennedy, and some of Buecker’s UConn teammates including Aaliyah Edwards and Nika Muhl. The TikTok live was a source of endless laughter, jokes, and games. Again, nothing was officially confirmed, although many viewers posted various screen recordings the morning after, and all fans can agree on is that Bueckers and Kennedy are not slick.

Many are comparing their relationship to Sue Bird and Megan Rapinoe, and we have to admit, the similarity is there. Bueckers and Kennedy are both standout athletes and leaders on dynasty teams. Fans are eagerly awaiting the hard-launch, if only just to confirm what we all know is true.

-Penelope Lancaster, Bleacher Report

JUNE 20, 2023

“Do you have everything, piccola? Brace, heating pad, charger?”

Making a conscious effort to fix her face, Tess resists a sigh and responds, “Yes, mamma, I have everything.” She knows that her mother is just looking out for her, but she’s been through all of her belongings three times now and she knows for a fact that she has everything. If something was missing, she’s certain Paige would have an extra or she’d be able to buy a new one in Massachusetts. 

She got the call from Amaya only a few days ago. To no one’s surprise at all, the media was eating up her and Paige’s fake relationship. Their brand deals were feeling secure in their investments once more and the tabloids were far more concerned about Tess & Paige than they were about Tess’s month-long crash out. With everything aligning once more, Bose actually wanted to sign a joint deal with her and Paige and get them to advertise a new product – standard NIL endorsement stuff, but the icing on the cake was Amaya’s cheerful, “You’re married now!” that nearly made Tess’s heart fall out of her ass.

Tess doesn’t make a habit of being a gullible person, but she genuinely thought Amaya was going to make her and Paige scrap the whole “soft-launch” idea and just come out at the altar with wedding rings. Amaya was quick to clarify it wasn’t actually like that (Thank God), but the Bose representatives wanted to do something corny, monopolize on their traction as a duo, and Tess and Paige would henceforth be named Mrs. and Mrs. Bose.

It was pretty stupid, but a little funny, and as soon as Tess saw her payout, she couldn’t really complain.

“And Paige is getting you from the airport? No Uber?” her father asks for the second time, mostly to clarify.

Tess can’t stop the flush from spreading across her cheeks like she’d been caught red-handed. Truthfully, her parents weren’t haters by any means. They were oddly invested in her and Paige’s ruse – which made lying to them about it so much more difficult, but the both of them seemed to genuinely like Paige despite never speaking to her. They’d been begging for weeks straight for Tess to bring her home so they could meet her since it’s “getting serious,” although they were pleased to know she’d probably be around by Christmas. She and Paige had this commercial to film, then Paige would have to return to Storrs for summer practices (Tess wouldn’t be returning until the semester officially started – she wants to work as much as she could with Terri, no hate to Craig), then Paige was set to spend early August in Europe with her teammates. Both of them would be extremely busy in the coming months, especially once the season started, so they weren’t expecting to see each other all too much outside of FaceTime.

“Yes, Paige will pick me up,” Tess confirms, zipping up her backpack one last time. “She flew in this morning.” Tess tactfully leaves out the part where Paige had completely rearranged her flight schedule for her. Paige argued that it “wasn’t safe” to put her safety in the hands of a random Uber driver given her knee and that she hated late flights anyways. Tess knows that Paige truthfully doesn’t give a fuck about flight times, but arguing with her was near impossible.

Her father gives an approving nod, and much to Tess’s well-hidden anxiety induced annoyance, the three of them do one last check of her belongings before they load up in the car to drop her off at the airport. Tess tries her best to tune into the conversation, although part of her is still nervous about flying. She’s been cleared to travel for a week or two now. Despite that, she can’t help but anticipate the worst going wrong. Amaya splurged on first class so she’d have plenty of leg room and she’s flying on a very reputable airline. She has to remind herself that realistically, she’ll be perfectly fine.

It’s a quiet morning at the airport as her father pulls into the drop off lane, putting the car in park. “Text us as soon as you land, okay, piccola?” her mother tells her.

Tess flashes the both of them a comforting smile, leaning forward to give them quick hugs. “Of course.” And with that, she grabs her suitcase and her backpack, says her goodbyes, and waits for her parents to pull off before she walks through the airport in search of her gate. She’s only stopped a few times by fans asking for photos, which she dutifully poses for, then she makes her way to the counter to check in. She only has to wait a few more moments to board the plane. Amaya set her up with a secluded seat in the back. She snags a quick photo of the tarmac and sends it to Paige, whose response comes quickly.

Tell your pilot to take a shortcut or sum I miss you

you use that line on all the girls back home?

Is it working?

maybe a little

Then no All my lines are for Tess Kennedy and Tess Kennedy only

good

🤔 Are you forgetting something?

miss you too pb 👎

I know 😁

so modest gtg we’re about to take off

I’ll be waiting 🫶

Tess simply reacts to Paige’s last message with a heart, unable to wipe the smile off her face. She shuts her phone off and settles in for the hour long flight.

When the plane touches down in Framingham, Massachusetts, Tess is full of restless energy. It’s equal parts relief and excitement; however, after spending the morning traveling, she’s ready to get back to the hotel and get a nap in before she has to be productive. She hauls her bag over her shoulder and exits the plane with the other passengers as she waits for her phone to power back on. When it does, she sees that a text from Paige is already waiting for her.

I got your suitcase I’m like right in front of the gate

Tess sends back a thumbs up, something she’s sure Paige is annoyed by, and slides her phone back into her pocket. She follows the crowd out. Her heart thrums with anticipation, even as she tries to shove down those complicated feelings. Friends are allowed to miss each other, but her longing feels different somehow. She and Paige were practically inseparable for the month they were apart. Knowing that they’re about to reunite in person leaves her giddy with anticipation.

The crowd clears. Paige stands tall and proud in the center of the boarding area, an easy smile on her face and her arms hiding something behind her back. When Paige finally spots her, her smile widens and she begins taking swift steps towards her. Tess matches her strides, falling into her embrace with a soft laugh and overwhelming relief. One of Paige’s arms loop around her waist, squeezing her gently. “Missed you,” Paige murmurs, her cheek pressed to her head, and Tess doesn’t bother fighting the flush or the enamored upward curve of her lips.

“Missed you too, P,” she confesses. Paige’s arm tightens around her waist and she can feel the smile the blonde presses to the crown of her head. She pulls back, uncaring of the way the crowd clamors or the phones pointed at them, fully focused on Paige. Her hair is pulled back into a wavy ponytail, her face bare (yet she’s still undeniably beautiful), and she’s dressed in a UConn hoodie and a pair of grey sweatpants. Simple, but Paige is good at pulling just about anything off. With a mischievous grin, Paige displays the bouquet of flowers she’d been hiding behind her back, and Tess can’t quite hide the surprise on her features. “Paige – what?”

Paige carefully pushes them into Tess’s hands. They’re roses and in shockingly good quality, as if they’d been plucked directly from a garden rather than purchased from a grocery store. “Saw ‘em and had to get ‘em for you. Figured you deserved a little better than that LEGO flower after these past two months, yeah?”

Tess is speechless, her mouth opening and closing much like a fish’s. No one has ever gotten her flowers before, high school graduation aside. Paige did this completely on her own whims, and that thought alone makes a fresh blush creep up her neck. She glances at Paige, a soft smile spreading across her face. “These are beautiful, P. Thank you.”

Paige’s grin turns tender, her face clearly pleased as she pulls Tess in by her waist once more, careful to not squash the flowers. “‘Course, ma,” she says like it’s the easiest thing in the world, which, for a girl like Paige, it probably is. That thought alone is sobering and Tess remembers where they are, adrenaline rushing into her mouth as Paige releases her. “Ready to go, Mrs. Bose?”

“So fucking corny,” Tess groans, but Paige’s joke is enough for the tension to melt away, for Tess to forget all about the sudden sadness she’d felt as Paige hugged her. “Lead the way, Mrs. Bose.” Paige cocks a wry smirk at her and does just that, her left hand reaching for the handle of Tess’s suitcase. Her free hand brushes against Tess’s, a silent question in her eyes. One glance at the crowd makes her heart race, but Paige’s eyes are soft, understanding, and all the convincing she needs. She links her fingers together with Paige’s, relishing in the squeeze Paige gives her in reassurance. Tess tries not to think too hard about how well their hands fit together – the blonde’s are just slightly larger, enveloping her own in a way that should not be as comforting as it is, and her thumb mindlessly brushes against her knuckle.

Paige leads them through the busy airport, the crowd parting for them, and Tess hardly pays it any attention as she gets lost in her racing thoughts. They’re just friends. Sure, no one in her life is as close to her in the way Paige is right now, but they just have their own thing going on right now. Pretending to be each other’s girlfriend requires a lot of commitment that neither of them have otherwise experienced. Tess was never one for romance – it wasn’t in the cards for someone like her. Growing up, she was taller than most other girls – and boys – her age. A lot of people weren’t into that. Then she realized she didn’t even like boys, which never bothered her, but she felt as though she was missing out on some crucial part of girlhood because she wasn’t desired or yearned for. She’ll be the first to admit it sounds stupid. There’s many people out there with issues far more serious than whether or not they were somebody’s crush in high school. She’s out of her element in so many ways, and she can’t help but think back to that initial burst of anxiety she felt as soon as the severity of the situation finally hit her. She’s in way over her head, she’s realizing it now, and she fears that it won’t be long until people realize she has no idea what she’s doing.

But Paige? One glance at her, at the easy expression on her face, the slight furrow of her brow as she scans the airport signs for the exit, and Tess can tell she’s not freaking the fuck out like she is. Paige is vastly more experienced in this situation than Tess is and they both know it. Paige said she could do casual. This is essentially what this was, right? All of the romance without the intimacy. Tess should have told her right then and there that she was not built for casual. It always spins out of control, and Tess is probably living proof of that.

This is all physical, she tells herself, unsure of if she even believes it. You don’t actually like her. She’s attractive – that’s all there is to it. And for now, that explanation is good enough for her. She’s going to do these commercials with Paige, hard-launch their fake relationship, and then they’re going to be far too busy to see each other until the holidays when they visit each other’s families to, again, hard-launch their fake relationship and tell the biggest lie to the people closest to them. That time apart will be enough for Tess to get her head back on straight and realize there's absolutely nothing going on between her and Paige that should be of any (reasonable) concern.

She almost believes that. At least until Paige smiles at her as she loads her suitcase into the trunk of her rental, opening the passenger door for her. Tess’s heart swells and she realizes just how unfathomably fucked she is.

JUNE 21, 2023

After a calm night spent watching Grey’s Anatomy – Paige’s request, obviously – Tess and Paige were up bright and early Wednesday morning to drive out to the Bose main office for filming. Paige entrusted her with the aux and promised to not complain about her music choices as long as Tess bought breakfast, which was a deal Tess was all too happy to make as she directed Paige to the nearest Dunkin. She made sure to snag plenty of pictures for the Instagram hard launch they planned to post before they went their separate ways. Her personal favorite was the one of Paige sitting in the driver’s seat, legs wide and pressed against the door and the center console, sunglasses perched over the bridge of her nose as she held both of their coffees. The blonde sported an easy smile with her hair in her game-day braids and her thin, black fleece jacket was unzipped, showcasing the UConn shirt she was wearing under it. Paige made sure to get one of her, too, but it was less presentable and far too candid – Paige had swiped whipped cream across her nose and photographed her mid-gasp. Tess begged her to delete it, but Paige’s infectious laughter caused all of the indignation to drain from her body.

With breakfast and coffee secured, Paige drives the rest of the way to their filming location as Tess hums along to Omar Apollo. The silence in the car is calm, both of them comfortable in simply sitting next to each other as the music plays. Paige shifts, her elbow resting on the center console as she drives with her left hand. Her fingers mindlessly twirl the straw in her cup. The movement catches Tess’s eye and she’s suddenly overcome with the urge to grab her hand.

It’s domestic, in a sense – sitting next to Paige in the car as they drive down the road with the windows down. The weather holds a gentle bite, not overbearingly cold, but chilly enough that it makes Tess feel a little more tethered, that she’s exactly where she’s supposed to be.

In her last session with Yvette, the psychologist recommended she just let go. As obvious as the advice is, and despite it being easier said than done, Tess is interested in giving it an honest shot. For years, she’s carried so much anxiety with her, worried about whether or not she’s doing something right or worried about how she’s being perceived. Sometimes, it takes a little bit of discomfort to move forward.

Before she can talk herself out of it, Tess props her arm up on the center console. Paige is close enough that she can feel her jacket sleeve brushing against her arm. She can feel Paige’s gaze on her, the gentle curiosity, but she keeps her eyes straight ahead, watching as the trees pass by in green blurs. Then she feels her move, feels her knuckles brush against her hand; and with her heart thrumming in her chest, Tess wordlessly unclenches her fist in invitation. Paige doesn’t hesitate before she’s linking their fingers together, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. Tess spots her smile from the corner of her eye, and knowing that Paige is watching her, too, she allows a smile of her own to grace her features. Nothing has ever felt as right as Paige’s hand in hers in a long time. As she continues driving, Tess can’t help herself from feeling at peace.

When the two of them finally make it back to their hotel room after spending the day filming, Tess collapses onto her bed with a dramatic groan, immediately reaching for her pillow and wrapping both arms around it, pressing her chin into the cushion. She hears Paige snort from somewhere in the room, followed by rustling as she shrugs her jacket off her shoulders and throws it haphazardly on her bed. “Tired?” Paige asks teasingly.

Tess hums in confirmation. Tired doesn’t even begin to cover it. She was up early, was on her feet for most of the day, and all of the reshoots and retakes weren’t doing her any favors. She knows she’s crashing out for no reason – this is literally her job – but she’s equal parts tired and hangry and she honestly just wants a hot shower.

“Want me to DoorDash somethin’?” Paige asks, as if reading her mind. She kicks off her shoes and falls into bed next to Tess, already pulling out her phone.

Tess cracks one eye open as the mattress dips under their shared weight, glancing at Paige, who crosses one leg over the other as she gets comfortable. “Chick-fil-A?” she requests. “Nuggets and fries? My card’s in my wallet.”

Paige wrinkles her nose. “Hell no. You got breakfast.”

Tess rolls her eyes. “Breakfast and the aux.”

“All you played was sad, break-up R&B,” Paige grumbles. “I really should make you cover dinner after that bullshit. Feels like there’s something you’re tryna tell me.”

“Pretty sure I’m not contractually allowed to break up with you,” Tess retorts. “So don’t worry.”

The blonde hums, unconvinced, before she turns off her phone and throws it in between the two of them. “Dasher’s gonna be here in 15,” she says, gazing down at her. “You good? Your knee okay?”

Figuring her current position probably isn’t the greatest for said knee, Tess rolls onto her back and stretches her leg out with a sigh. Her elbow brushes against Paige’s stomach and Tess shifts again, not realizing how little space she’d left between them after she moved. “‘M good,” she says. “Should probably get an ice pack just in case.”

Paige is rolling off the bed before Tess even registers what’s going on. She watches her pull the lid off of the ice box on the desk, scooping up a handful and depositing it in a plastic bag. She tests the seal, and once she’s satisfied, she wraps the makeshift pack in a towel, plucks a pillow off of her bed, and holds the ice pack in between her teeth as she gently lifts Tess’s leg, sliding the pillow underneath. Tess’s breath hitches at the slightest contact, and despite the chill of the ice pack, Paige’s hands are inexplicably warm on her skin.

“Is this the Dr. Bueckers the ladies told me about?” Tess asks with a coy smile, trying to ignore the flutter in her chest. The way Paige was gazing at her left too much for her to want, eyes soft and attentive, and for Tess, it was easier to hide the longing with humor.

“You play too much,” Paige says, but her words lack any real heat as she rounds the bed once more and crawls back in, reclining against the pile of pillows. She’s closer than she was before she left. Tess can smell her perfume, the shampoo she’d used the night before. Paige is magnetic, that much Tess knew to be true – she’d felt it the very moment Paige stopped her outside of the conference room to inform her that she’d be tagging along for PT. It’s only now that she realizes how strong her pull was as she unconsciously leans into Paige’s space, the blonde’s arm raising to wrap around her, fingers splayed against her shoulder.

“Do I?” she asks, if only to fill the silence. Paige’s thumb begins to trace soft patterns on her skin. It’s difficult for her to focus on anything but that, but she cranes her neck, finding that Paige is already staring at her. Tess flushes under her gaze, though she refuses to break eye contact.

Paige’s lips quirk as she responds, “Yeah. You do.” She seems as though she’s content to leave it at that, but a couple beats pass before she’s speaking again. “You want a lot of things you think you can’t have.” Tess’s brow raises at her words, but she remains quiet. “I see it in film. You’re an insane three-point shooter but you rarely take middies or layups unless it’s absolutely free. And you do this thing – it’s like you’re faking the drive, and I can tell you really want to do it, but you just…don’t. You’re not faking. You’re just scared to get out of your comfort zone and go for it. Scared to get close.”

Tess doesn’t think they’re talking about basketball anymore. Despite the sharpness of her words, Paige’s tone is gentle, and the smile on her face is both confusing and frustrating. Frustrating because Tess knows she’s right; confusing because Paige knows she’s right, but it seems like she’s not completely confident in Tess taking that leap. Honestly, part of Tess is tempted to prove her right. She knows they could drop this topic right now and Paige wouldn’t press her. The other part of her knows they’ve come this far together, that she’s come this far. Doesn’t she owe it to herself, to Paige, to be vulnerable? To take the drive into the paint, risk getting fouled, instead of hovering at the perimeter to take the same shot she’s taken thousands of times already?

She thinks she does. Tess is tired of wanting, of yearning for the things well within her reach if only she had the confidence to go after them. But perhaps there is a thin line between confidence and bravery, between knowing and trying. So she shifts, feeling a little braver, angling her body towards Paige’s, fists the collar of her UConn t-shirt, and pulls her closer and closer until their lips finally meet.

Paige gasps against her, surprised, before her good sense returns and she melts into Tess. The hand on her shoulder skims across her skin to rest on the nape of her neck, her right hand reaching up to hold her face. As Paige guides her jaw to get better access, her kiss deep and consuming, she takes full advantage of Tess’s jilted sigh. Her hands fall from Paige’s collar, finding purchase on her stomach and her waist in search of stabilization. Paige leaves her breathless and woozy, and if she didn’t feel secure in the way she was holding her, then Tess would be afraid of floating away completely.

They break away, chests heaving, flushes down to their collarbones. Tess’s eyes open with a flutter of her eyelashes. Paige is already staring at her, her eyes wide in some sort of awe, pupils dilated. Her lips are swollen, shiny, and Tess can’t help the feeling of smug satisfaction that comes with knowing she did that. Paige Bueckers looks like a mess and it’s all because of her. “Still think I’m scared?” she asks, voice hoarse, her fingers gripping the fabric of Paige’s shirt.

The smile that spreads across Paige’s face is raw, real, visibly affectionate despite her next words. “Yeah.” Tess almost rolls her eyes, but Paige’s hand drops to the base of her throat, her middle finger brushing against her pulse point. She doesn’t apply any sort of pressure, but the weight of her hand makes her head spin anyways. “But s’okay.”

Tess chuckles. “To be scared?”

Paige hums an affirmative, shifting again, and she presses her lips against Tess’s. It’s different this time; firm, lingering, and insistent, almost as though she’s trying to take everything she possibly could. The weight of Paige’s body against hers is exhilarating and it makes her heart race. She can feel Paige’s smirk against her lips. Tess is instantly reminded of the fact that Paige can feel the thrumming of her pulse. She pushes her back with a hand to her chest, smiling at the rumble of laughter that reverberates through her body. “S’okay to be scared,” Paige says seriously, her thumb wiping away the smear of gloss on Tess’s lip. “But you don’t gotta be. Not with me.”

Tess meets her gaze, studying her features, the sheer honesty in her expression. Paige releases her jaw, her hands reaching down to untangle Tess’s fingers from where they’re still clenched in her shirt, fitting their hands together. “Don’t overthink it,” Paige whispers, understanding Tess’s mannerisms by heart now.

But the peace is always short-lived. Tess frowns, her voice almost a murmur when she asks, “What are we doing?” Paige’s eyes widen slightly. Tess wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t been so fine-tuned to Paige’s every move for the past month. “The rules, Paige, we agreed–”

“We haven’t broken any of the rules,” Paige states firmly. She squeezes Tess’s hands, her throat bobbing as she swallows. “We communicate. We don’t see other people. We don’t tell other people. And we…” Paige struggles to find the words. “We don’t have to label this. It’s just us.” Tess’s face softens, the furrow in her brow relaxing. “‘M just…glad it was here. You and me, no cameras. And... we can just say we practiced for the public, right?” Paige’s thumb brushes against her hand as she stares at her imploringly, almost as though she’s pleading for Tess to agree, to stop thinking and just do it.

Practice. That word fills her with simultaneous relief and dread, but she remembers Paige’s words. Don’t overthink it. Tess understands that they’re walking a very thin line right now. Why should she let her brain ruin it? They don’t have to complicate what they have right now. And for now, that’s good enough for her. “Practicing is fine,” she confirms, feeling a little more confident.

When Paige’s eyes light up, her lips quirking into a smile, Tess believes that she’s made the right decision. “Yeah?”

Tess nods, flashing a smile that’s unexpectedly genuine. “Yeah.” She pulls Paige in closer by her hands, their lips brushing again, but before she can melt into her completely, Paige’s phone rings and the two of them snap apart.

“Fuck,” Paige groans, her brows drawn tight in annoyance. She hardly looks twice at her phone as she picks it up and answers it. “Hello?” Tess can barely make out what the person on the other end is saying, but the tension leaves Paige’s body. “Okay, I’ll be down. Thank you.” Tess looks at her curiously as she hangs up the phone. “Cockblocked by the dasher,” she says solemnly, unable to hide her pout. “Gimme five minutes, I have to go meet him.”

Tess can’t wipe the smile off her face as Paige rolls off the bed again, slipping on her shoes and rummaging around in her bag for her wallet. Before she leaves, Tess catches her by her wrist, pulling her down to her level and planting a chaste kiss to her lips – a far cry from the one they’d been cheated out of. “Hurry back,” she says. “I’m hangry.”

“Two minutes,” Paige breathes out, grinning stupidly, pushing Tess’s hair out of her face. Then she’s gone, and Tess is left alone in the silence of their room. If any of this had happened a week prior, Tess would probably be spiraling, but she’s committed to turning over a new leaf. She’s not going to overthink it, she’s not going to crash out, and most of all, she’s going to accept this new development in her and Paige’s friendship for what it is without trying to second guess whatever it could mean. They can just be friends who kiss now. That’s a thing. They don’t have to label anything. They can just be them, and as far as Tess is concerned, she’s okay with that.

Paige makes it back in record time, Chick-fil-A bag and drink carrier in hand and slightly out of breath. At Tess’s brow raise, Paige shrugs cheekily, handing over a milkshake. “You said you were hangry,” she teases, sliding back into bed next to her. “I’m too young to die.”

Tess rolls her eyes as Paige begins dividing out their food, passing the sauce and napkins. “You’re such an asshole,” she says good-naturedly.

“You kissed me,” Paige reminds her, as if Tess could ever forget about that. “What does that say about you?”

“I’m a very charitable person,” Tess supplies modestly. Paige snorts like she doesn’t believe that, but Tess smiles regardless.

They continue chatting throughout dinner. Paige pretends like she doesn’t notice Tess stealing her fries, although Paige ends up using most of Tess’s sauce, so they call it even at the end. Paige throws their trash away while Tess scrolls on her phone, only glancing up when Paige returns, hooking her chin over her shoulder and throwing a casual arm over Tess’s waist. “Time to break the internet?”

“You better not post anything embarrassing,” Tess grumbles, enjoying the weight of Paige’s body on hers.

Paige hides her laugh in the fabric of her shirt. “I couldn’t if I tried.” She pulls out her phone, opening Instagram and begins drafting a new post. Tess’s eyes catch on some of Paige’s photos as she scrolls through them. There’s random screenshots of Bible quotes, a concerning amount of selfies, a lot of basketball related things, and pictures of Tess have somehow become a new trend in her gallery. From the photo of Tess with cream on her nose, FaceTime candids, to photos from their shoot today that Tess wasn’t even aware Paige had taken. Tess softens. Most of the pictures were nice. “Could get a new one,” Paige suggests, opening her camera and pointing it at the mirror on the opposite wall, displaying the two of them pressed close together. Tess rolls her eyes, chuckling, but Paige takes the photo before she can react.

“Paige Madison,” Tess sighs. She can feel Paige smile against her.

“C’mon,” she goads. “We look good.” Tess can’t really argue with that one, so she leans her head against Paige’s and begins drafting her own Instagram post. They work in silence as they select the best photos for the hard launch. It’s only been a month and a half, but Tess feels both fondness and nostalgia as she scrolls through their photos and their memories. She has a couple of photos from PT with Paige, FaceTime screenshots, the photo of Paige holding their coffees, and photos of Paige trying to style the Mrs. Bose earbuds they were promoting. She knows there was a reason why Paige came into her life, but she can’t help feeling like she showed up at the right time; it could have been anyone else – college athletics has an endless amount of controversial athletes who are in need of image repair – yet being paired with Paige feels like a stroke of fate.

Tess selects only a few photos, not wanting to go overboard. She includes their first picture at PT – Paige holding the ice pack over her knee, the FaceTime screenshot of Paige showcasing the LEGO rose, Paige and their coffees, and a mirror selfie they’d taken after stylists did their hair and makeup for the shoot. She captions it “here’s to tess kennedy’s worst kept secret. thank you for coming into my life when you did,” and while this hard launch is not real, the sentiment is.

Paige finishes at around the same time she does, a soft smile on her face as they swap phones to look at each other’s work. True to her word, Paige kept the embarrassment to a minimum, although the first photo she selected was the one with whipped cream on her nose. Tess shouldn’t have expected anything less, but it’s quickly growing on her. The rest of the photos consist of the mirror selfie Paige just took, a screenshot of Tess modeling the gold dress for her, a bible quote – 1 Corinthians 16:14 – and, shockingly enough, an older photo of them from their freshman year, shaking hands after the first game they’d played against one another. They’re both cheesing. Tess remembers that loss vividly. The media called it The Battle of the Freshmen, mostly because it was the long awaited match-up between Tess and Paige, who’d been hailed as freshmen phenoms, two top recruits. In that game, they both accounted for the majority of their team’s points. Paige was responsible for 31 of UConn’s 63 while Tess led South Carolina with 30 of their 59.

Tess couldn’t even be upset at the loss. She and Paige played their hearts out, and honestly, playing against Paige was the highlight of the game. From their expressions alone, you would have thought they both walked home with trophies that night. Tess could argue that she did. Playing with Paige makes you a better player, sure, but playing against her? Tess learned so much from her game, although she would never admit that to Paige; her ego is too overinflated and Tess will not contribute to growing it.

“Where’d you find the last one?” Tess asks curiously, handing Paige’s phone back.

Paige does the same, her face lighting up with a soft smile. “Got tagged in it a couple times,” she says. “Felt right.” Tess can’t argue against that, smiling too. “At the same time?” Tess hums in confirmation, her thumb hovering over the post button, and simultaneously, they both share the hard launch to their pages. There is a very brief period of stillness before the notifications and comments begin pouring in. Tess swipes over to Paige’s post and only then does she read the caption, “And her pink skies will keep me warm.”

“Cheesy ass Frank lyric!” Tess exclaims with a laugh.

Paige looks inexplicably smug, pleased with herself. “Full circle,” she says.

“Full circle,” Tess agrees, her smile turning tender.

It’s at that moment that everything finally clicks. The lyrics filter through her brain. And a new day will bring about the dawn. And her pink skies will keep me warm. She can hear it perfectly, Frank’s voice singing to her, “Abandon mission, you must be kiddin’, this shit feelin’ different, shit feelin’ different to me.” All of the thoughts she’d been ignoring, the uncomfortable conversation with herself she’d been avoiding. She tried to push it down, but the realization came into focus with stunning clarity. Tess liked Paige. Tess likes her.

That was the entire reason why everything has felt so different. It wasn’t because she and Paige were spending so much time together, why Paige has become nearly synonymous with Tess’s recovery. It wasn’t because their friendship was just different. It was because it wasn’t friendship at all. It was always something more, even from the start.

Tess feels as though the floor beneath her could splinter, a giant crack down the middle that would send her tumbling to the ground below. She likes Paige. She has feelings for Paige. Calling it by any other name wouldn’t do her any good. She broke their rules and it’s taken her this long to realize.

“You good?” Paige asks her, her brows drawn into a furrow, concern etched onto her face as her hand reaches for Tess’s. She hadn’t realized she was shaking.

Tess clears her throat, nodding. “Yeah,” she lies, hoping that it sounds believable. Bree’s words come back to her. You’re lying to Paige, which is why you’re fumbling the bag. She was right all along. Tess could laugh at the absurdity of it all if Paige wasn’t sitting next to her. “Just need a shower, I think.”

She decides right then and there that Paige can’t know. She can’t know that she’s close to ruining it all, close to undoing all of the work they’d done to restore their reputations. That she’d broken their rule after all. That she let this get out of hand, and if Paige knew, their friendship would be destroyed for sure, and Tess isn’t sure if she could handle not having Paige around.

Paige hums, seemingly convinced, but all Tess can think about is what she’s done.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 8- Something to Believe In

Summary: Frankie makes good on his promise to pick you up from work.

Word count: 3.7K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname, no use of y/n)

Warnings: Having a panic attack (cue Frankie to the rescue), mentions of death and grieving, angst, yearning, could we perhaps be ✨making progress✨?

A/N: Hi friends!! Thanks for bearing with me after no new chapter last week! This one's also on the shorter side, but that's not to say there aren't some BIG things happening 👀 My hope is to have another chapter done by next week, but with holiday business, it may have to be two weeks between chapters again (sorry sorry sorry!!) Thank you as always for your lovely and kind words, ily all so much MWAH

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

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Frankie, Present 

“I’m done at ten.” 

By the time he gets back home at 6:43, he’s already counting down the hours until you’re finished with your shift. 

Three hours and seventeen minutes, to be exact. 

For as much as Frankie could easily spend the next three hours and seventeen minutes doing nothing but staring at the clock hanging adjacent to the TV in the living room, he knows he’ll drive himself out of his goddamn mind. He needs something to do. 

If he keeps himself busy, he can’t fester on the million and one ways he could manage to fuck this up. 

Frankie forces himself to eat some sort of half-assed dinner, despite his nervous nausea that’s got the best of him. He purposely uses as many dishes and utensils to make a sandwich as humanly possible- if he does, it gives him something to do after. 

He cleans out his entire truck, down to vacuuming every last crumb crunched between the driver’s seat and center console. He debates washing the car himself in the driveway, but if he drives it to the carwash three blocks down the road, it’ll kill more time. 

On his way home, he stops at Auto Zone to get you a new car battery and exchanges it for your old one, dead, under the hood of your car. 

Frankie takes a shower so long, he can feel in real time the water shift from boiling hot, to luke warm, to ice cold. He washes his hair twice. His body, three times. 

He unpacks just about every item of clothing from his suitcase, laying them out on his bed in multiple combinations of pants and shirts, debating whether you'll think he’s a psychopath for showing up in a different outfit only a few hours after dropping you off. Frankie settles on shorts and a t-shirt- nice enough he doesn’t look like a fool, but casual enough for you not to suspect he’s been staring at every article of clothes he owns for the past thirty minutes. 

And somehow, after all of that, he still ends up in the Parrot’s Nest parking lot at 9:23. 

Thirty-seven minutes worth of waiting is a lot more manageable than the better part of three hours. 

Unfortunately, the last thirty-seven minutes he spends sitting in the parking lot are the most agonizing of his whole endeavor. 

He throws the last few innings of the Tampa Bay Rays game on the radio in the background, unable to stand the sound of silence that haunts him when he’s alone with his thoughts. 

Frankie tries not to panic at the fact that it seems like he’s forgotten how to engage in basic human conversation, praying that no one can see the way he’s rehearsing his greeting to you upon your arrival into the passenger seat. 

“Hey, what’s up? No, fuck, that’s stupid.” Frankie mutters to himself, running his palm over his face, “Hey, MacKenzie, how was work? No, ��cause what if work was fucking awful and I’m just gonna piss her off more. Jesus.” 

He takes a few more long, deep breaths, staring at the roof of his truck while he tries to concoct the perfect set of words to string together. 

“Hey, Kenz. Kenzie? MacKenzie? Does she even fucking go by Kenz anymore? Fuck. Hey, miss me?” He jokes by his lonesome, his fake smile quickly fading at the anticipation of your response, “She obviously didn’t miss you, idiot. You’re lucky you can barley get her to fucking talk to you. Fuck me.” 

His pained groan and scrunched shut face are enough cut off the awareness to his surroundings just long enough to leave him oblivious to the fact you’ve not only exited the Parrot’s Nest, but have made your way across the parking lot and have your hand wrapped around the passenger door, rattling the handle. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Frankie shouts, nearly jumping out of his own skin at the way you’ve announced yourself by shaking at the locked door. 

So much for rehearsing. 

“F-fuck-” He stammers, taking a moment to catch his breath from your scare, praying he hasn’t managed to shit his pants from how badly you’ve startled him. Once his pulse settles to rate low enough he’s convinced he hasn’t died of a heart attack, he leans over to unlock your door, unable to make eye contact with you as he grimaces his face in embarrassment. 

“S-sorry.” you murmur, sheepishly climbing into the seat next to him, quietly clicking in your seatbelt. 

“Jesus Kenz, you scared the shit outta me.” Frankie gulps, still trying to compose himself. He runs his hand through the curls of his hair, taking one last slow inhale and exhale with his eyes peeled to the floor, hoping the pink drains from his cheeks before he looks over at you. 

“Sorry, I- I didn’t mean to. I thought maybe you fell asleep, or something. You shrug, trying to defend your reasoning. 

“I wouldn’t offer to come pick you up and then fall asleep on you, I’m not that big of an assho-” 

Frankie cuts himself off before he can finish the rest of his thought, feeling the “L” and “E” of “asshole” die off somewhere in the back of his throat, killed by the death glare you give in proclamation of his own self-righteousness.  

He starts the car without another word, pulling out of the parking lot and hoping that his silence begs enough forgiveness. 

The crackling static of the car radio fills the void between you, Andy Freed’s ecstatic voice capturing both of your attentions enough to let the current state of the Tampa Bay Rays game shift your focus. 

“What’s the score?” You ask, nonchalant, eyes wandering anywhere but Frankie’s direction. 

“Oh- uh, I- I think it was 1-3 last time I checked, but it sounds like someone on the Rays just hit a sac fly, so I’m guessing it’s 2-3, now.” 

There’s a moment of silence, Frankie assuming you’ve got it in you to at least make one question’s worth of small talk. You seem just as surprised as him that you don’t let the conversation die there. 

“Did you um- you watched the game when you got home?” 

Your gaze won’t lock with his, but now, it’ll at least travel in his general direction. 

“N-no, I just uh- I just turned it on while I was waiting in the car.” 

“How long were you waiting for?” 

“N-not that long.” He barely gives you enough time to breathe, let alone call him out on his bullshit before he’s changing the subject, “How uh- how was work?” 

“Oh- It was uh- it was fine. Went by really slow. B-because it wasn’t um, it wasn’t that busy.” 

Frankie’s no code breaker, but he hopes the way you’re so quick to give him a reason why your shift had dragged on is a secret way of saying you spent just as long thinking about him as he did about you. 

“Sorry it was so slow.” 

Frankie knows his apology doesn’t do anything for you, but the way he’s picking each word that comes out of his mouth has him feeling like he’s tiptoeing through a minefield, too scared to make any move besides the one that seems the safest. 

“It’s okay, not your fault. That’s honestly part of the reason I took this job- was to give myself something to do, so I don’t spend every last second that my dad is alive dwelling on the fact that pretty soon, he’s not gonna be alive. It’s stupid, but I guess if being preoccupied with serving middle aged couples mozzarella sticks and over-cooked steak tacos for a few hours helps, then so be it.”  

He knows better than anyone that your attempt at humor is your shield, but it’s not hard to see how weathered and worn it’s become, barely hanging on by a thread to protect you from the worst battle you still have yet to face. 

“N-no, it makes sense. Distractions help. I-It’s been hard, having to see him like this. I get it.” 

His last sentence makes your head snap up from the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, Frankie hopes that maybe your attentiveness means he’s had a breakthrough, showing enough genuine empathy that you’ll cut him a little slack. 

When he turns enough to see the scowl plastered across your face, he realizes he’s stepped on a bomb, and he’s moments away from explosion. 

“Oh, you ‘get it’, huh?” You scoff, sadistic smile curling in the corner of your cheeks. 

Frankie can see the way your blood is beginning to boil, trying to backtrack as quickly as possible to find any way to save himself. 

“N-no- I mean, shit-  no, Kenz, you know what I mean.” Frankie pleads. 

“No, I don’t know what you mean, Frankie. Please, explain.” 

The way your arms are crossed and head is cocked tells him everything he needs to know. Against his better judgement, Frankie decides not to take cover. He goes headfirst into the warzone. 

“C’mon, Kenz, don’t be like this.” Frankie sighs, preemptively kicking himself that this is the route he’s chosen to take. 

“Like what?” You snap back, sharp and sarcastic. 

“Like it’s not hard for me, too. Like I can’t be sad about it. You’re not the only person who cares about him, MacKenzie. He was the closest thing I had to a dad, too.” 

“But he’s not your dad, is he? And if you were, that’d make you a pretty shitty son, wouldn’t it?” 

It hits him like a cold, hard slap to the face, the way you don’t dare to show him even an ounce of mercy. There’s something about the bitterness in the way you ask it that hurts even more than if you would have just screamed at him, cursed him out, punched and pushed him until he bruised. 

A stark silence falls over the car, tension so thick, it’s like a bag of bricks has been dropped from the sky, drowning him in a useless pile of cement. There’s no use in crying for help. He doesn’t dare to speak, simply out of fear that if he does, this won’t be the worst of what’s yet to come. 

Frankie stays trapped for what feels like hours, each second passing by more painfully slow than the last as you stare out your window, watching the shadows of street lights dance across your body, illuminating you just enough to see the way your chest trembles with short, frantic breaths as you unravel. Your sobs can’t hide behind the silence in the way your tears can in the darkness. 

“Do you know how fucking lonely it is, Frankie? How lonely it is when everyone you’ve ever cared about leaves you? It’s like I’m fucking Midas, but everything I touch, eventually, I lose. A life before cancer, my soccer career, an engagement, a future, my dad, you? You don’t get to tell me how hard it is for you, because you get to let go of what you want on your terms, when it’s convenient for you, don’t you? I’m so sick of losing, Frankie. I’m so sick of it.” 

He watches in real time how something inside you snaps, like a bottle of soda that’s erupted after someone’s violently shaken shaken it, the twist of the cap releasing all the pressure and tension that’s been stored up and compounded upon with each rattle of their wrist. 

Frankie knows he’s not responsible for all of it, but he's the last bump you can take before you have no other choice but to overflow, leaving every ounce of you to seep out, vulnerable and exposed. 

What starts off as softs sobs, quickly shifts to heart wrenching heaves of your chest, every word you’re trying to get out lodged in your throat. He sees how your eyes fill with fear at the way you suddenly can’t catch your breath, body shaking as you shrink into your seat, fingers wrapping around your seatbelt with an iron grip around the worn fabric. 

“Kenz? Kenzie, are you okay?” It only seems fair he’s completely disregarded everything you’d had to say, beginning to panic at your tremoring figure crumpled next to him, speaking in nothing but violent wails you can’t control. 

“I- I- f-fuck, f-f- Frankie, fuck, n- no, no, I-” 

He won’t let you finish your thought- he only lets you stammer out the few words you can manage before he’s pulled off on the nearest neighborhood side street he can find. He blames it on military habit, how quick he is to react in the face of your panic, but he knows damn well it’s nothing but instinct the way he’s all but throwing off his seatbelt so he can reach across the center console and wrap you in his arms. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here. Just try and breathe, okay?” Frankie whispers, squeezing you so tightly in his arms you just might break. 

“I c-can’t, I can’t, fuck, i-it- it, it f-feels like I can’t breathe.” You sob, feeling your tear stains pool in the fabric of his shirt covering, face buried against his chest. 

“I know. I know it’s scary. I promise you’re okay, it’ll pass. Just try and breathe with me, okay?” 

He hopes you don’t notice how shaky his own breaths are, trying his best to stay calm with each long inhale and exhale he takes. The wave of grief that washes over him is different than the one you’re drowning in, the kind that makes his heart break at the type of panic he’s known all too well- he’d give every bone in his body to absorb your pain and make it his, but the best he can do is hold you until it subsides. He’ll hold you all night, if that’s what it takes. 

It’s a few minutes before he can finally feel your heart rate starting to slow, the stiffness of your muscles beginning to ease in his grasp as you come back down to earth with him. Your tears haven’t stopped, but at least your chest starts to rise and fall with his. It’s a baby step, but he’ll take any steps he can get in the right direction. 

“There ya go. Just like that. It’s okay. Worst of it’s over, I promise.” 

With the way one thumb is gently stroking your back and the other is carefully brushing the back of your head, it’s safe to say every inhibition Frankie could have has flown out the window. He hates how there’s a selfish part of him that can’t describe the way it feels to hold you again, even if it’s like this, but that’s a battle of his own he’s not willing to face today. For now, he’ll accept the sweet bliss of his self-indulgence while you’re curled against him. 

“You’re okay, Kenz. I’m here. I promise, you’re okay.” 

Enough time passes that his t-shirt isn’t getting any wetter, finally brave enough to peek your head up from the crook of his neck to wipe your tear stained cheeks with the back of your hand. Frankie’s grip only loosens enough to let you sit up, arms still engulfing your frame, tight enough to make sure you don’t float away on him again. 

“I- I’m s-sorry.” 

It’s so soft as it leaves your lips, if he wasn’t waiting on your every word, Frankie just might have missed it. Little do you know, he’s hanging on your every breath. 

“Hey,” he pauses, your eyes locking with his, softly pouting at the way your panic has made your face red and puffy, carefully swiping his thumb across your cheek to catch the wetness still streaming down the corners of your eyes, “you have nothing to apologize about, okay?” 

He waits in the silence again, letting you softly nod your head in agreement, watching the gears turn in your head as you process everything that’s just happened. You’ve come to enough to notice the way his hand still sits on the small of your back- he’s just as surprised as you when you let him keep it there for another moment before subtly shifting back in your seat. 

Your face scrunches shut, wincing with the last few deep breaths you take, like you're trying to push the rest of it out of your system for good. Frankie runs his hand through his messy hair and down the nape of his neck as he takes you in, still riding his melancholy high of the weight of your body pressed into his. 

“Thank you. For um- just, t-thank you.” You mutter, too sheepish to look him in the eye again now that full blown embarrassment has set in. 

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” 

Frankie nods, trying his best to let you know that he means it- really, truly means it. It’s the way he won’t take his eyes off you that must let you know he understands, watching you shift just enough in your seat for him to notice how your body turns ever so slightly to face him. 

“They’ve uh- fuck, it just comes out of nowhere sometimes. It’s um- it’s happened before, but these past few weeks, it just- it’s been a lot, I guess.”  

“It’s been a while since I’ve had one, but I um- I got ‘em all the time after I came home. Feels like you’re dying. It sucks.” 

It’s not graceful, but it’s genuine. Vulnerable. Honest. Frankie knows it’s the most truth he’s given you in more years than he’d like to admit. It’s not much, but it’s enough to see you scale the top of the wall you’ve built between you and him and kick down one of the bricks that’s holding it together. It’s not much, but it’s one less brick than that wall has had for a very, very long time. 

“What are you talking about? That was so much fun.” 

In the shared moment of soft, sympathetic laughter, it’s that he realizes the softest smile that’s stretched in the corner of your lips. Frankie tries not to stare, but when he sees it, he remembers how much he’s hated living without it. He takes it in for as long as he can, memorizing every crease and crinkle in your face, no matter how subtle. He’ll soak in every second he can. He’s thankful he does, because it’s only a matter of time before it starts to shift, corners of your cheeks shifting as you pick at the skin around your nails. 

“I- um- I’m sorry- a-about what I said earlier.  I- I didn’t mean it.” 

Frankie lets out a huff of confusion, convinced you must be playing a joke on him with your unprompted apology. He’s almost tempted to laugh again, but the way your jaw shifts back and forth, anxiously grinding on your teeth while your eyes stay peeled to the fingers working away at your skin reminds him of every other apology you’ve ever offered. The same look when you accidentally popped the brand new basketball he got for his 13th birthday, the same fidgeting of your fingers when overreacted to the dent you thought he put in your brand new car backing out of your driveway, the same tick of your jaw when you had told him why you hadn’t written him more while he overseas on his last tour of duty. 

You really do mean it. 

“It’s okay. I deserve it.” Frankie admits. As hurtful as it was, he knows you weren’t completely unjustified in what you said. He also knows if you’re offering him an olive branch, he’ll offer you nothing short of a whole olive tree back. 

“No- well, I mean, maybe a little-” your sarcastic self correction makes him laugh again, something long forgotten warming in his heart at the way your hidden grin reappears in the corners of your cheeks, “No- I just- that was shitty of me to say. I’m sorry. It’s- it’s just a lot right now. Not totally fair to take it all out on you.” 

“I know. It’s okay.” Frankie pauses, captivated by the way your eyes flicker up to meet his, still wet and sparkling from the last of your tears, shimmering in the warm glow of the streetlights. He wants to reach out, to grab you, hold you, press you against his chest again and tell you that everything will be okay, but he won’t risk burning the bridge of the progress he’s built. Not yet. The best he can do is keep building, nail by nail, plank by plank. 

“If you um- if you ever need someone to- to talk to, or whatever, I’m always-” 

“I know.” 

There’s a different kind of silence that fills the empty spaces of his truck the last ten minutes of the ride home. It’s no longer heavy, burdened by pain and fear with every breath that enters its void. It’s the quiet kind of reassurance that doesn’t need any words. The kind that says everything it needs to from stolen glances back and forth, accompanied by the warmth of pink cheeks hidden in the black of the night sky. 

The last thing that’s said after he’s pulled into your driveway is a simple “thank you”. It’s only two words, but something about those 8 letters put together seems like enough to fill a book with how much it says. 

The only thing that says more is the way you look over your shoulder when you make it to your porch, so brief that if he wasn’t looking for it, he surely would have missed it. 

Because in that moment you look back at him, he swears there’s a smile straining against the line of your lips that you’re trying desperately to fight. 

Maybe he’s imagining it. Maybe he’s truly lost his mind. Maybe he’s crazy. Whatever he may be, Frankie Morales knows he won’t sleep a wink tonight at the thought that he’s finally the reason for the smile on your face again. 

@chaotic-iguana @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog @itsokbbygrl

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @jolapeno @ovaryacted

@amanitacowboy @mystickittytaco @anoverwhelmingdin @greenwitchfromthewoods

@witchofthedeepwoods @ericamarie093 @readingiskeepingmegoing @whimsiwitchy @whoaitspascal87

@vickie5446 @katw474 @ravenpoe67 @inthedarkestnight @brittmb115

@harryscherrysugar @wonderpillar @sunnytuliptime @pasc4lfuzz @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

@kungfucapslock @vannabanana1995 @beezusvreeland @guelyury

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[itsgivingmami]

Her Altar- Rhea Ripley

Warning: religious based homophobia

Practice what you practice, love who you love.

   Growing up had been nothing special. School during the week, riding your bike with friends on Saturdays and stuffing yourself into clothes you dreaded for church on Sunday.

   You had never really liked church but at a young age it hadn't occurred to you exactly what it was. You didn't like to do it the same way you dreaded math tests and asparagus but it wasn’t exactly an optional occurrence. As a young child you'd found the grain in the back of the pew you'd sat behind more interesting than whatever the pastor was groaning on about.

    For your seventh birthday your parents had gifted you a simple gold cross necklace and had hung it around you like a totem before you could tell them you weren't particularly fond of it. Or church.

   As you got older you learned very quickly that your opinion of faith was null and despite the fact that you were real, tangible and god (presumably) wasn't didn't matter. The laws of the bible did.  By the time you were thirteen you knew you were attracted to women, the constant reminder that being gay was a sin had only served as education on the subject. the constant reminder to stay quiet about how you felt kept you safe and you learned to repress school crushes on other girls. Growing up in a prejudice environment masked in faith had took its toll,

Then along came Rhea,

    Hiding your feelings for her made you feel more guilty than betraying the faith you were supposed to have. Every time you two hung out you felt like you were lying to her, you felt dishonest when you two linked arms walking through the mall and when she fell asleep next to you in the same bed during sleep overs. You started to avoid her under the guise of protecting her, believing that she was better off without you pining after her.

    "Why are you avoiding me?" She had caught you at your locker, trapping you between her body and cold metal.

     "I'm not.." you laugh off avoiding her gaze and you try and find a way under her arm.

    "We have talked everyday for the last god knows how long and suddenly radio silence," you shake your head as if she's wrong, but you know she's not. "I watched you make eye contact with me and run down the hall the other direction and did you think I wouldn't notice that you haven't been to a single one of my games in weeks?" You didn't, you figured she wouldn't notice your absence on the sideline and that she'd have no issues finding someone else to talk with. "What gives? I miss you,"

    You keep your eyes on her shoes, a familiar pair of dirty black chucks, your doodles covering the toes and you remember the day you two had spent ditching class on the bleachers with her legs thrown over your lap. Your parents had berated you for skipping but you hardly heard it, deeming the time you got to spend with Rhea worth it.

    "I'm sorry," you spoke quietly before biting the inside of your cheek, trying to will you ears to stop tearing,

   "Don't apologise just tell me what I did so I don't do it again and-" the hand she's gesturing with falls to her side, "let me have my friend back,"

    It's too much, the combination of her blaming and the way she calls you her friend makes you feel overwhelmed by guilt. You feel exasperated by the inner conflict and you want her to understand that you can't give her back her friend, because you don't feel at all friendly about her but telling her means really telling her the truth and your not ready to fully loose her either.

   "It's not you," you rasp as you quickly duck under her arm and run from her not bothering to close your locker door. It's selfish, but you can't have her too close and you can't loose her entirely. So without explaining yourself you flee and continue to keep her at arm's length. Rhea stands frozen staring at the spot you were just in, sighs and closes her eyes before gently shutting your locker for you.

                                             ~

     For the first time in years you go to confession after safely making it out the building sure Rhea wasn't going to come after you. Pulling open the door you don't remember walking here at all.

    You see the shadow of the priest through the lattice as you sit on the bench. It takes you a moment before you realise your supposed to greet him.

    "Sorry uh-," you shake your head and bring your hand up to cross your heart, your necklace feels like it's burning your skin as you speak. "Bless me father, for I have sinned?" It comes out as more of a question and you swallow thickly already regretting this decision. "It clearly has been a long time since my last confession," You hear a hum from the other side,

    "You are here now," its sounds empty, like he's said it too many times today and you're sure he has. "Why?"

    "I think I love someone," you tell him, it's the first time you admit it and hearing it out loud makes your chest thump.

    "How do you know you love him?" He asks you and you wince, him. Everything inside you is screaming at you to run, but you stay planted. Faith and whatnot right?

    "My heart races and I would do anything for," you hesitate, "this person, I can't imagine hurting the person I love, so much so I would hurt myself before I ever could," tears start to fall as you talk about it for the first time, "I can't live without her but I would if she asked me too,"

                                              ~

       When you walk through the door your parents are waiting, scowling and deep down you know; they know. Weren’t confessionals supposed to be private? A bag lands in front of your feet with a thud.

     "There will be no sinners living under our roof," your mother spits, you look to your dad you refuses to meet your eyes. You throw the strap over your shoulder and swallow thickly before straightening your posture. A shaky hand reaches up to your necklace and rip it off tossing it at their feet before leaving.

                                          ~

      Rhea has a cd playing quietly so she can listen to the thunder as she watches the rain our outside, she still can't figure out what she did to upset you and it's driving her nuts. Deciding to skip soccer practice and head home after you'd run from her again. She runs a hand through her hair at the memory and blinks back tears. It was bad enough she had cowered out of telling you about her feelings so many times, now you wouldn't even talk to her at all.

    Maybe you had caught on to her clingy-ness, she hated to think that she didn't at least get the chance to confess that she loved you in a way that might not freak you out. Her dim computer screen on her desk remains on her aim, countless unanswered messages on your part.

   "Rhea!!" Her mom's voice snaps her out of her thoughts as she quickly gets up and heads downstairs. She freezes on the last step when she spots you, soaked through, shaking, red eyed and her mother trying to wrap you in a blanket. She spots your dripping bags near the front door and she feels her body flash with heat as a rage bubbles up.

     "What happened?" Rhea questions as she comes towards you, making quick work of pulling her hoodie over her head using it wipe water from your face. You simply let out a sob in response as you jerk forward, she steps closer and pulls you against her.

   "They kicked me out," you sputter between breaths, "I didn't know where to go,"

     "Here," she answers and her mom hands her another blanket which she lays gently over your shaking body, "always here," She holds you while you cry into her collar and makes eye contact with her mom who simply nods before grabbing your bag to put whatever she can in the dryer.

    "We gotta getcha warm baby," she whispers to you softly, the endearment comes out naturally and you let out a soft cry at how kind she's being despite the fact that you've been avoiding her for weeks. "Let's go to my room yeah?"

   She holds your waist as she guides you upstairs, the front of your head is starting to hurt from crying and your face feels fuzzy. You enter the familiar space, greeted by pictures and posters you helped hang. Rhea sits you gently on her unmade bed and flips on the desk lamp, a soft yellow light illuminates the room.

     "You need dry clothes," she speaks as she's opening drawers in her dresser and rifling through unfolded piles. "Sweatpants or shorts? Tee or sweater," she rambles half to you half to herself. As you watch her grab things for you and mumble to herself you make a decision.

    "Rhea," you watch her turn to you "I have something I need to tell you,"

                                                ~

    "Whatcha doing baby?" Your wife's voice makes your memory fade as the window comes back into view, the patter of rain drops against it and the occasional clap of thunder. Strong inked arms come to wrap around your middle and you lean back into her.

     "Thinking," you tease, reaching up to scratch her jaw with your nails and she growls into your palm at your answer. "You know me well enough to know,"

      "Mmmmm," she hums as her chin rests on your shoulder. She does know exactly what storms remind you of, which is why she'd abandoned her workout in the garage to find you. Usually you'd be in the basement trying to drown out the sound but she had found you in the master bedroom in-front of the glass balcony doors. Your silhouette illuminated by snaps of lighting. “I love you,"

“I love you more “ you tilt your head back to look at her, you tell her you love her all the time but you gaze into her eyes trying to tell her how much you mean it each time. She places gentle kisses on your neck as her hands slide down to your front, you feel her warm palms press against your hips, pushing you further against her body.

“I love you most, I win,” she growls into your nape and you let out a soft breath at the feeling, a pleasant warmth swells in your chest. Her strong hands grip at your hip bones and it sends lighting straight to your core. You turn to face her and the loving gaze she’s holding you with. “Hi pretty girl,” she rasps to you.

“Hi,” you respond and smile before her lips are on yours and her tongues in your mouth. You let out a satisfied hum as her hand comes up to thread through your hair, holding you tightly against her. You’re both overwhelmed by emotions as your kiss gets messier, thinking about the days when you hadn’t been out and married to the love of your life. You gently separate from her mouth, “I need you,” you tell her, your lips brushing against hers as you beg for her. You feel the tell tale sign of her gripping at your waist band and you lift onto your toes and she pulls you to wrap around her body.

“God you’re beautiful,” Rhea admires you, your foreheads pressed together as your breaths mingle. You brush her bangs away from her face and she stares at you above her, she watches you like you’re the stars.

“Take me to bed,” you ask her and although you cannot be closer you need more, you need to be the place that’s always been the safest; enclosed by Rheas body.

“Did somebody forget who’s in charge?” She teases and she nibbles your ear lobe, you whine and squirm in protest which gets you a light slap to your ass but you feel Rhea start to move towards the bed anyway. Your back hits the soft mattress and your wife crawls over to join you.

“I let that last one go,” she tells you as her fingers running under the hem of your shirt and up the side of your ribs, her gaze flicks back out the window. She wants you to know that you’re okay, she understands it’s a hard night for you, “but act like a brat again and I’ll treat ya like one,” she gently slaps the bottom of your thigh a couple times before you bend it and her strong grip holds you.

“Rhea,” you gasp as her teeth hit your collarbone followed by the soothing of her tongue. She chuckles lowly and pulls your tank top up over your stomach, you sit up quickly helping her rip it off.

“There’s my good girl,” Rhea praises your obedience and you melt a little more, your body pliant as she pressed you back down to the mattress. Her mouth is warm as she sucks marks onto your bare chest before taking a hardened bud, you throw your head backwards as you let out a moan.

The memories of your past fade a little more each time she teaches you true worship and only with her do you start to believe the priest who outed you might’ve actually been divine intervention. In the morning when you wake up next to her you’re certain angels exist, they simply must with one laying in front of you and in the night before you fall asleep you find your faith kneeling at her altar. You aren’t afraid that your love would cast you to hell, not when the goddess above you brings you pure bliss that you swear it must be what heaven really is.

[procelibacyactivism]

#see the thing is a fair number of the women reading these fanfics are very self aware about their kinks and why the are interested in them#and use fanfic as a prosocial bonding activity deeply concerned w the interior experience of the participants real and fake#instead of jerking it alone in their bedroom to disembodied dick in pussy moneyshot fake moans performative fake sex#you cannot compare fanfic to mainstream porn. it is a completely different medium. there's a lot of slop but all of it is heartfelt.#and I cannot emphasize enough that nobody is actually being raped or abused in the fake world of “I got so horny I couldn't see straight”#10k lovingly crafted noncon fuckfest fanfic whipped out on the high of seeing fanart of your favorite characters getting dirty with it#whereas porn-watching men are actually getting off to real-life abuse in many cases and just do not care#I have concerns about fandom esp what it has done to the weird girlies vis a vis gender and yes there is some bleed into Real Sex but damn.#what a fucking take

don't leave this take in the tags!

BL/romance fiction can be problematic and sugarcoat abusive patriarchal dynamics but it's also MUCH tamer than mainstream porn. and i used to read a ton of bl in high school and even the unplatable stuff wasn't like mainstream porn. it felt more like the confessions of the traumatized, if anything. feels like a lot of popular titles were basically just genderbent shojo heroines in traumatic situations. 'equality' and healthy relationships didn't seem common in BL, despite the fact that having two males in a romantic relationship seems at least partly motivated by a strong desire to evade or contemplate how unequal het relationships are. gay crit of BL/yaoi is often hilariously myopic and male-centered and socjustice discourse is exploited by them to feed their self-centredness. some gay guy complained that the handsome men in yaoi made it seem like gays who didn't fit the archetype were' garbage' while completely ignoring how misogynistic japan is and how images of impossible beauty are fed to women as something to aspire to by pop media. yaoi is also not for gays. if i complain that sports mags feature gross, ugly moids why would my opinion matter?

incheresting op on the subject:

[...]She pointed out that for her boys' love manga were liberating in the sense that, unlike in heterosexual stories, in the case of yaoi, for a character to look at another's body meant also to have his own body looked at. Whereas in straight material the woman was always the object and the man the viewer—in yaoi this role division did not exist. She agreed, however, that, as a reader of yaoi, she was similar to dirty old men looking at pornography featuring women.[33]

men jerking off to videos simulating rape or at least violence featuring real women often facing actual pain and abuse is not the same as fanfic girlies reading about sasuke being exposed to sex pollen. be fucking serious.

also you basically never hear of someone injuring her partner during sex because she read destiel bdsm omegaverse, but men will demand their partners try extreme shit they saw in porn, sometimes with severe consequences.

[airenyah]

A LOOK AT STYLE'S JOURNEY | Ep 4

(Ep1+2 | Ep3)

Hiii, I'm back at it again <3

I'm not gonna write a proper introduction this time around. You know the drill. Enjoy!

(And if you're new here, feel free to check out my posts on the other episodes linked above first.)

To recap: Last time we saw Style, he had just been left lying on the cold hard ground with a punch to the gut after having hooked up with Fadel in a random storage room. Just like at the end of ep2, at the end of ep3 they did not part on the best of terms either.

Pronoun situation: In my first meta post I kept up with their pronoun use on a scene by scene basis. Just like in ep3, I won't do that in ep4 either because they consistently use the rude guu/mueng pronouns for each other throughout the entire episode without any significant pronoun changes.

No. 1: Blissful Dreams

Even though the hook-up ended rather painfully for Style, and even though the hook-up itself may not have been quite what Style dreamed of, it's still left quite a mark on him. So much so, that he even dreams about it that night. So much so, that this dream even affects him in real life the next morning.

"Crap," Style swears. This wasn't the plan. Style may have a bit of a problem now. And over the course of this episode we'll find out just how much of a problem Style actually has now, because the dream hasn't only affected him physically, but the reality that inspired the dream has also affected him emotionally.

No. 2: Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

The majority of the interactions Style has had with Fadel so far have ended with Fadel either forcing Style to leave (even to the point of physically dragging him away) or with Fadel abandoning Style. Even if from Style's perspective it may not seem like his actions have much of a positive effect on Fadel, I think deep down he does sense that he's managing to worm his way into Fadel's life after all. In any case, Style is not giving up no matter how many times Fadel will ditch him. However, since none of the strategies he's tried so far have seemed to really bear fruit, he now changes course again: disappear for a bit, so that he'll miss you. This strategy works exceptionally well, but Style won't know about it until about two thirds into the episode.

No. 3: Blue-Balled

Despite his resolution to stay away from Fadel to make him miss him, Style fails to hold out for long and is back rather sooner than later. As @secriden points out, Style "comes running to Fadel the second he hears about Fadel asking about him" (quoted from @secriden). Style even explicitly says that he hadn't planned on stopping by, but then "some auntie told me someone asked about me". Style has tried out a new strategy that he hasn't gone with before, learned that it actually did have some sort of affect on Fadel, and immediately rushes to confirm this for himself. Within the first 30 seconds (20 seconds, to be exact!) of Style entering the kitchen he asks Fadel twice if Fadel has missed him. It's literally the second and the fifth sentence out of his mouth when he shows up. This is important info to Style, he needs to know if Fadel has missed him and he needs to know immediately. Style has already started to develop positive feelings towards Fadel over the course of episode 3 and their little storage room fling has influenced that development even more. Style needs to know if Fadel feels the same way. In fact, he downright assumes that Fadel feels the same way: it's in the way he is so satisfied and smug when he walks through the door. Style is very happy about this.

Fadel, however, shoots him down. Style's smile fades, but I don't think it's necessarily because he's hurt or disappointed or wasn't expecting this reaction. No, Fadel has reacted like this to about 90% of the things Style has said to him the entire time they've known each other. Style backs up a bit, but the way he looks at Fadel seems curious, like he's searching for something, like there is a question on his mind. Why does he STILL keep insisting like this, why does he STILL go for rejection when evidence points to the opposite?

Reminder: Last time the two of them saw each other, Style was way out of line and Fadel ended up punching him. Style was also quite upset that Fadel would sleep with him and immediately ditch him. In their last meeting, they didn't part on the best of terms.

So Fadel claims he didn't miss Style (despite evidence saying otherwise) and that Style annoys him because he messes up Fadel's routine and Style thinks about it for a moment, contemplates what Fadel's problem could be with him this time that could make him act like that and then comes to a conclusion as to what it might be:

He lets Fadel know that he's not angry at him for what happened the night before. When Style says "I was asking for it", I'm not entirely convinced he's referring to his unserious behavior at the group meeting. I'm not sure he's actually realized that his behavior was disrespectful. After all, he was "rewarded" with sex for it. Plus, the next thing he says is: "[I]t doesn’t matter how scary you are". I think this refers to their confrontation and verbal exchange right around Fadel punching Style. I already touched on Style not being scared of Fadel in my ep 3 meta:

Fadel threatens to punch Style if he doesn't move but Style refuses to stand down even though he knows very well from personally witnessing it that Fadel is perfectly capable of punching him if he wished to. Despite that, Style is not scared of Fadel. [...] When Style says "You like me" I don't think he necessarily means it in the sense of you're in love with me or you're crushing on me. I think he [...] is making it very clear just how confident he is about Fadel not hurting him. [...] It's a counterattack to Fadel's threat.

(Bolded for emphasis)

Style was very fearless the night before, which is why I think when Style says "I was asking for it" he's referring specifically to how Fadel was threatening him and how Style put up a fight in response. He "was asking for it", because he didn't move out of Fadel's way despite Fadel making it very clear what the consequences of Style's stubbornness would be. Fadel got scary in their last meeting, and now Style tells him "[I]t doesn’t matter how scary you are, I’m hooked". While in episode 3 the "I'm not scared of you" was implicit in his actions, Style now tells him explicitly in words.

If you've read my episode 3 meta, you'll know that a running theme throughout the entire post ended up being the question of whether Style really meant all the things he said (esp the flirty things) or if it was all just empty words. Here in the kitchen? Style means every single word, every flirty sentence that he utters. In episode 3, when he bugs Fadel at the running track or when he tells Fadel that he likes and wants him right before they hook up at the end of the episode, there is such an air of loudness to his demeanor. In contrast, when Style tells Fadel "I'm hooked" and asks him what he has to do to win him over, there is much more tranquility to it. Even his voice is calmer, there is no trace of his usual dramatic flair. Style is much more grounded here compared to some of his flirting (attempts) in previous episodes.

Style is being serious when he says "[I]t doesn’t matter how scary you are, I’m hooked", he really means it. But Fadel only looks at him for a moment, squints his eyes briefly, and wordlessly directs his focus back on his herbs, signaling to Style Yeah sure whatever, I don't care, you're a burden and an inconvenience to me. This is yet another very predictable reaction and Style isn't surprised by it, but he's definitely a little annoyed now that he's still not getting through to Fadel, that Fadel still won't admit that he does want Style around and has started taking a liking to him. So Style leans closer to Fadel again and asks what it will take for Style to win him over. Again, Style is being serious about it, his usual over the top flair is missing. He isn't doing this for show, he's not playing anything up because someone else asked him to or because he'll gain something out of it. Style is asking because he genuinely wants to know for no one but himself. Style genuinely cares now.

But Fadel tells Style to fuck off. Not literally, of course (his actual words are "Get out of my face"), but "fuck off" is certainly the subtext of it. And that subtext reaches Style clear as day. Instead of following Fadel's order, he's gonna be a little shit about it now.

"Fuck", you say? Gladly. Malicious compliance with the subtext. Style walks around the table. "I know a guy like you just needs a little nudge."

Again, this time around I do think Style means all the flirty shit that he says. It's in the way his tone is much more calm and quiet and how everything he says is much more deliberate, much more calculated. It's a similar vibe to that time in the gym when he told Fadel to call him any time if he needed a spotter, which, if you've read my first meta post of this series, is a scene you'll know I've determined to be the first time Style genuinely flirts with Fadel for the purpose of flirting and not for any other motivations such as revenge. And now here in the kitchen he's also flirting for the purpose of flirting again. His words aren't just empty words.

Another way we can tell that Style genuinely wants to get into Fadel's pants right there and then is by the way he gets handsy. In episode 3 he doesn't really touch Fadel when he spouts all the sexual innuendos at him at the running track. The only time Style touches him in that scene is when he squeezes Fadel's man boob in order to emphasize the word "heart". Or in the storage room, even though he claims to want Fadel, Style doesn't touch Fadel either during that entire conversation before they get it going. In fact, the only time he touches Fadel before Fadel starts kissing him is to remove Fadel's hand from him. In contrast, the sauna scene in episode 2 showed us that when Style actually, genuinely wants to sleep with Fadel, he'll start touching Fadel in suggestive places, will even go as far as shamelessly stick his hands down Fadel's pants (or, uh, towel in that case). And even though he didn't exactly get handsy with Fadel at the work-out bench, despite my claims of this interaction being the very first time he genuinely flirts with Fadel, well... Style may have not been handsy, but he sure got kneely:

In the kitchen in episode 4 every flirty thing Style says is an attempt at getting into Fadel's pants again (Oh, how very much the storage room fling has left its mark on Style!). Style genuinely wants this, genuinely wants him. Every single one of Style's actions underlines that as well. And then Fadel actually maneuvers him onto the kitchen table. Style is elated.

At this point I want to once again take a little detour to @clemelntine's meta on each of the boys' sexual fantasies of one other and what that means for the storage room hook-up. If you remember, she writes:

No matter how much he annoys Fadel in the day to day and how much he seems to take the upperhand in those interactions, when it comes to sex he likes in the idea of letting Fadel do what he does/wants.

Not only do we see this play out in the storage room in the way Style gladly gives Fadel full control over his body, but we see this pattern continue in the kitchen. Style is very proactive in showing just how much he wants to get into Fadel's pants but the moment Fadel seemingly folds and goes along with it, Style lets Fadel put him on the kitchen table with no resistance whatsoever and eagerly awaits whatever Fadel has in store for him this time, letting Fadel have full control over the situation and his body again.

Whenever Fadel has blocked or rejected or ignored Style in this scene so far, it has not come as a surprise to Style a single time. This is what Fadel does. Style is used to it. It might annoy or disgruntle him at times, but overall he is used to it. But when Fadel drops "You won’t ever get what you want" and leaves him hanging? This time around it hits Style completely out of left field. Style was so caught up in his euphoria, that he didn't see this coming at all (unlike me, the audience, who was just sitting there going "ohh shit oh damn this is gonna be another fake-out" the moment Fadel grabbed Style's waist and turned him towards the table dfjkdf). After all, Fadel did sleep with him the night before, and so Style probably completely forgot that Fadel could dump him at any moment. In fact, he was probably confident that Fadel sleeping with him the night before and now asking about him at the market when Style failed to show up were signs that Fadel had started to develop feelings for him as well. And if Fadel has feelings for him now, then he would likely also want this, so why would Fadel ditch him? But Fadel does. Style is angry and he's hurt and he's disappointed, but Fadel's rejection hits him so much out of nowhere that I think he actually takes a while to process what has just happened and how to feel about it and how to react. Usually in situations like this, Style will put up a fight with Fadel until one of them wins, but this time around he is so stupefied that he immediately moves towards the door when Fadel shoves him towards it without firmly standing his ground and fighting Fadel about it first. Style does yell at Fadel that he won't let Fadel ditch him and when Fadel comes at him again, just for a short moment Style is about to stand his ground, but then Style shoves him away and leaves the kitchen angrily, instead of fighting him.

While I do think Style is hurt by Fadel's actions, I think anger and shock are his leading emotions here as he storms off. I think the hurt only really properly starts coming out and taking over once Style's shock has worn off and he's processed the situation.

No. 4: OnlyFans

The immediate shock of the situation has now worn off, Style has had a little time to process and now he's ready to fight again. There is still so much anger in Style, but now we can also see just how hurt he actually is. This is even more evident when we go back to episodes 1 and 2 where we've seen this whole thing play out before: Fadel humiliates Style in private and Style retaliates by humiliating Fadel in public. Fadel drags Style out of the diner by his feet in the privacy of the closed restaurant. Style yells at him in front of everyone at a busy market place in return. Fadel leaves Style hanging in the privacy of the diner kitchen whose only staff is Fadel himself. Style yells at him in front of every customer at the restaurant in return.

When Fadel drags Style out of the restaurant in episode 1, Style is of course angry and humiliated. And sure, it did hurt his pride, but it's mostly just that. Fadel, at this point, is mostly just some weird, grumpy dude to him that he has now been hired to hit on. Back then Style wasn't expecting that fake-out either, but it doesn't leave him as stunned as it did this time in the kitchen. In episode 1, he even tries to fight Fadel. He can't do much while he's being pulled along the floor, but as soon as Style is back on his feet he immediately starts raging at the door, pulling at the handles and banging at it. In the kitchen, Style is too stunned to put up a fight and actively runs away instead of fighting Fadel.

When Style yells at Fadel in the market place, while it comes from a place of revenge it's still something he does for show. His words are loud and dramatic and they're for everyone around them to hear more than they are for Fadel himself. It's all a public performance to Style. And the audience is everyone at the market. It's about making everyone see how "bad" of a guy Fadel is and it doesn't really matter whether Fadel is listening to his words or not as long as his words reach his true audience and they believe him. Style is clearly having fun yelling at Fadel while also using the chance to blow off some steam from his previous annoyances with Fadel. When Fadel yields, Style immediately lets it go and chills again.

When Style yells at Fadel at the diner, he's once again causing a scene in public, but this time his words are for Fadel to hear, not for the strangers around them. The fact that there's strangers around them is just a welcome bonus and I think in that moment Style doesn't even really care if any of them are actually listening in or not, as long as his words reach Fadel. Style's voice is sharp as a knife, sharper than we've ever heard it before, and every sentence he utters is a stab at Fadel. When Fadel hands him the apron and tells him to leave, Style agrees, but he speaks out a warning first ("But just keep in mind: Nobody gets to nail and bail me."). His fighting spirit has come back, and when Fadel launches a counterattack ("I’ll be the first"), Style does not back down this time around like he did earlier in the kitchen. It's Fadel who walks away this time and Style reminds him that he'll continue to fight him ("A guy like Style won’t back down"). It's only when he walks out of the restaurant that he turns his argument with Fadel into an actual public performance. It's only when he invites everyone at the restaurant to take pictures of him that his words are for show and for his audience to hear.

We've just watched a situation that we've seen before play out but this time around it's very different. Because this time around Fadel actually means something to Style. And this time around Style has already slept with Fadel, which also meant something to him. I'm not entirely sure Style has quite figured out what exactly it all means to him and I also don't think he's head over heels in love with Fadel yet, but he sure is starting to have many emotions. While Style was also enraged back in episode 1 after Fadel dragged him out of the diner, his anger has leveled up now because this time around, underneath all of that anger, Style is also very hurt. They were starting to make progress and Style even got to celebrate small victories along the way (Fadel making him a burger, Fadel actually sleeping with him, Fadel asking about his whereabouts). Style was starting to get somewhere with Fadel, was slowly starting to develop some feelings of his own for Fadel, and Fadel just goes and kicks down Style's sandcastle. What's more, Style has made it very clear to Fadel how he feels about getting nailed and bailed, and then Fadel just goes and does it on purpose.

Style is so angry and hurt that this time around just one public yelling isn't enough. This time he goes for a round 2.

No. 5: A Ruined Man

Style is back at the support group. This time it's not to find out more about Fadel's backstory, this time he is here because he has a message for Fadel. And this time Style's distress isn't cringe, because this time the situation is serious to him. He is seriously angry, and he is seriously hurt, and it's important to him that Fadel is fully aware of it, aware of what he's done to Style.

"When you like someone, and they only think of you as a toy, something they can break, they don’t even know how deep they have cut you."

Oh, Style. I hope you don't end up eating your own words later when Fadel finds out why exactly you were hitting on him and trying to get him to fall for you in the first place.

No. 6: Are These Systoms of Being Pregarnt?

This time Fadel is so done with Style that he drags him away in front of everyone else instead of waiting until no one is around. And Style is finally able to have somewhat of a civil conversation with Fadel again. While he is still angry at Fadel since they still haven't cleared up their quarrel, he is no longer outright yelling at him or attacking Fadel with his words like he was at the diner or in the group meeting just now. The tone of his voice is softer and also his dramatic flair is back when he goes on and on about how he might as well be pregnant. And we also learn what exactly it is that Style wants from Fadel: "You slept with me, so take responsibility for it."

I've already talked at length about why I think Style isn't one for casual, no strings attached one-night stands in my ep3 meta, and Style's words here highlight this once again. The storage room sex mattered to Style. And I don't think it mattered to him because it was a step closer to fulfilling the mission he's been sent on and a step closer to getting the car of his dreams.

If you read my ep3 meta, you'll know that I mention a couple of times that Style is developing "positive feelings" for Fadel. Phrasing it like this rather than phrasing it as "romantic feelings" or "starting to like" was a very deliberate decision. Because I don't think Style was quite there yet in episode 3. He still had many other ulterior motivations and intentions going on, be it Kant's "hit on Fadel so I can get to Bison" mission that Style gets a car out of or Style being nosy about Fadel's lore. If you remember, at the beginning of this meta when Style woke up with a boner I said Style may have a bit of a problem now. The problem is his own feelings – this whole episode hasn't been about Kant's mission or the car anymore (or about Style finding out Fadel's backstory). Instead, this whole episode we've been exploring Style's real feelings, his own desires. Style has started to care when it comes to Fadel, has started to genuinely want him. Style is starting to genuinely like Fadel now. He even lets it slip during the support group meeting:

"When you like someone, and they only think of you as a toy, something they can break, they don’t even know how deep they have cut you."

And yes, one could argue that he's been saying he likes Fadel ever since Kant set him on Fadel and that Style, in fact, has said he likes Fadel many, many times before, so this is nothing out of the ordinary. But I think this time it is in fact different. I think this time he means it. Because if it was just a lie, if those were just empty words, then Fadel dumping him in the kitchen wouldn't have hurt so much. And at this point, I think Style's hurt isn't only about being dumped in the kitchen but also about being ditched in the storage room. Style may have said he won't hold what happened back then against Fadel, but maybe deep down he does. Because the storage room sex mattered to him and at this point of the episode maybe it matters to him even more so than at the beginning of the episode or at the end of episode 3. Not to mentioned, he really doesn't like getting nailed and bailed. You slept with me, so take responsibility for it.

No. 7: I Hate the Way I Don't Hate You. Not Even a Little Bit. Not Even at All.

"You're not killing me or anything like that, right?" Style says as they're walking out of their last scene and Fadel promptly takes him out to the woods into an abandoned greenhouse. They still haven't cleared anything up between the two of them and Style is still kinda angry, which is why I think that when he says "Are we doing it outdoors? Your taste sure surprises me" he says it mostly to piss Fadel off, not because he wants to flirt or actually do it with him in that moment (oh but just you wait another few minutes 🤭🤭🤭).

Fadel once again just wordlessly walks away from Style. Instead of following him, Style stays back at the car, kinda annoyed. We don't know how long exactly Style was waiting, but either way, I think he does lowkey start to get freaked out a little. He wants to go home and starts looking for Fadel.

"I know you’re gonna kill me and hide my body in the woods." Oh Style, sweetie, no. Careful with your words. Apollo's ball of prophecy and all that. Right after that, we get yet another reference to Style not being scared of Fadel. When he enters the greenhouse, searching for Fadel while monologuing, he shouts:

But I ain't scared of you!

Fun fact, in Thai he actually phrases it as "You think I'm scared of you?":

มึงคิดว่ากูกลัวมึงหรอ [mueng - kít wâa - guu - gluua - mueng - rŏr] you - think that - I - scared (of) - you - [question word]

It is night-time, Style walks along dark aisles in search of Fadel who ran away from him and is currently nowhere to be seen, when suddenly, out of nowhere Fadel appears, shoves him into some furniture (ish) and angrily yells into his face: "Who sent you?" Oh, wait, wrong episode.

User @secriden wrote an excellent post detailing the parallels between the ep3 storage room scene and the ep4 forest scene, but I actually think that the beginning of the scene is much closer to a different scene that we saw in episode 2: the locker room scene. It's interesting because this is the third time this episode calls back to the first two episodes. It starts with the parallel of Fadel's fake-out, then we had the parallel of Style publicly humiliating Fadel, and now we have a call-back to the locker room scene, which will soon turn into a parallel of the storage room hook-up. The parallels do be paralleling this episode.

In the locker room, it was Style who dropped a "love confession": "I like you. I liked you the moment I crashed into you that night. It was love at first sight. So damn romantic. Straight out of a movie." But now in the greenhouse it's Fadel's turn. Fadel ambushes Style, shoves him against the bars and starts raging. Fadel has yelled at Style a lot over the past few episodes. He yells at Style to reprimand him, to shoot down his advances, or to tell him to piss off. When Fadel yells at Style, it's all about his feelings of disdain he has for Style. So when Fadel says "I don’t like you messing up my life. My life has been planned out. You’re disrupting it," Style sighs a little and braces himself for yet another fight against Fadel:

But then Fadel goes off-script. "I don’t like myself when I look for you on the morning jog or at the market. I don’t like waiting to see if you’d show up at my restaurant or my go-to club. You— I don’t like you being in my life and changing it."

This is a new one. Style listens intently.

Fadel continues. "I don’t like feeling like this." Style has all his focus entirely on Fadel and his words now. He squeezes his eyes just the tiniest bit. And I think this is where Style starts to figure out the core of Fadel's problem.

"I don’t like it!", Fadel yells and Style looks at him with so much resolution and with so much understanding.

And then Fadel drops: "I don’t like that I miss you."

Fun fact about the word คิดถึง [kít-tĕung]: apart from "to miss", it can also have the meaning of "to think of, to think about". So another possible interpretation and underlying meaning of this line is "I don't like that I think about you."

Something vital that I want to bring up at this point now is something that @secriden has pointed out in her meta:

It's incredibly important that Style waited at this point. Style, who talks endlessly and without thought. Style, who demands that his story and his thoughts are aired first. Style, who has been telling Fadel this lie time and time again before Fadel’s feelings made it true... Stops. Waits. Stays silent. Because Fadel had to get there himself or not at all.

And get there, Fadel did. Fadel has just spilled that he thinks about Style, that he misses him. That Style's efforts have been worth it. That Fadel has started caring the way Style has started to care. Style looks at Fadel, takes it all in.

Style finally understands Fadel's problem, finally understands why Fadel has been acting the way he's been acting.

When Style kisses Fadel, there is so much purpose, so much intent to it. Style has something to say, something important, and every single thing on his mind, every single emotion, he puts it all into that kiss. And what he has to say is:

Yes. The caption in the gif is different from the official English subtitles. Because Style literally says:

มันโอเค​นะเว้ย ที่จะมีความรักอ่ะ [man - oh-keh - ná wóiie • thêe - jà - mee kwaam rák - àh] it - okay - [particle] • that - will - be in love - [particle]

And this is a distinction that is important to me personally. Phrasing it as "It's okay to be in love" is by far more specific than "It's okay to love" and I think this particular word choice hits Fadel harder as well. Fadel likes control, he likes knowing exactly what's going on at any given moment. But then Style shows up as a whirlwind in his life, bringing disorder to everything. Fadel is starting to develop feelings that he can't control and it freaks him out.

When Style kissed Fadel in the locker room it was an attack in the battle he was fighting against him. When Style kisses Fadel in the greenhouse, it's for reassurance. Style puts everything he wants to say with "It's okay to be in love" into that line. It's okay to let go. It's okay to let things take their natural course. It's okay to be in love. You're allowed to have feelings. It's not a bad thing. It's okay. It's gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay.

And with this we go into the parallels to the storage room scene. If you remember my ep3 meta, then you'll remember how I said that Style didn't really mean it at the time when he said he wanted Fadel right before they hook up. This time he didn't say a single word about it, but his actions show that he does want Fadel this time. Once again I'm gonna steal a thought from @clemelntine's meta:

[Style] isn't entirely giving in/passive in the situation, though. He still has a hands on Fadel holding him close/in place, and does seem to want to touch him. No matter how much he wants Fadel to service him, he isn't gonna let him do it all on his own. He too wants to explore Fadel as well.

We can really see that this time around. Unlike in the storage room, Style has his hands all over the place: on Fadel's throat, underneath Fadel's shirt, in Fadel's pants, pulling Fadel closer with his arm around Fadel's neck. What's more, there's significantly more eye contact. Fadel actually looks Style in the eye now. It's still not as much and as intense as in Style's fantasy, because they're still not quite there yet emotionally, but it's a start. They've both started to develop some actual feelings, and this time around they're also both aware of it. Of their own feelings as well as the other's feelings. Where last time they were acting purely on physical attraction, they're much more emotionally involved this time around. Emotionally they're much more on the same page this time around. And it's beautiful.

Also, I haven't seen anyone talk about this yet, but we are all aware that they show us pretty much the entire act from start to, uhhh well, finish, right? Right?? 🫣

No. 8: Be My Boyfriend

Not for the first time Style says he wants Fadel as a boyfriend. Unlike the other times though, Style actually means it this time around. His words are no longer for show, no longer a performance that will be rewarded with Kant's gratitude and his car. Style is being 100% serious about being Fadel's boyfriend. The car is more of an afterthought (and one that he will get to, because a deal is a deal, and he's been in love with the car much longer than he's had any positive feelings for Fadel for, but still. Right there in the woods, I think the car isn't really on his mind at the time).

Style means every flirty thing he says. He means it when he says "You’re mysterious and alluring. You’re quiet, but sexy as hell". If you remember, during the kitchen scene I mentioned that Style wasn't as loud in the flirty things he said, and we can really see that in the aforementioned line and also when he says "[Having a boyfriend is] great. You have someone to embrace, to love, and to…" These lines are much less loud and less performative than compared to everything that came out of his mouth in ep3 on the sports field.

By the way, I need you all to know that this exchange:

F: I’ll stick with jerking off. S: I’m sure.

Actually goes:

F: I can jerk off by myself. กูชักว่าวอยู่เองได้ [guu - chák wâao - yùu - eng - dâai] I - masturbate - be - (by) oneself/myself - be able to S: I know you can do it yourself. รู้ว่ามึงทำเองได้ [rúu wâa - mueng - tam - eng - dâai] know that - you - do - (by) oneself/yourself - be able to

And where did we get a similar exchange before? That's right. In that very scene at the sports field that I just mentioned:

F: If you want it that much, then go jerk off. ถ้าอยากมากเนี่ยก็ไปชักว่าวไป [tâa - yàak - mâak - nîia - gôr - bpai - chák wâao - bpai] if - want - much - [particle] - then - go - masturbate - go S: I know it can be done alone. รู้มันทำคนเดียวได้ [rúu - man - tam - kon diiao - dâai] know - it - do - alone - be able to

The words they say are similar, and yet these two exchanges are very different from one another. Just like in the kitchen, Style's flirting in the woods is much more grounded. It's not the same performance as it was in episode 3. And just as I said in my ep3 meta, it's when Style is being genuine that he actually reaches Fadel, not when he's putting up a show:

The inauthenticity in [Style's] insistent approach is what makes him annoying in those scenes [the running track and the market]. And it's also not what works on Fadel – it's when Style is being genuine that he actually reaches Fadel, like when he was helping him wait tables (which Fadel recognizes by rewarding him with a burger) or when Style was being playfully flirty in the sauna (which results in Fadel fantasizing about him at night).

What's interesting, though, that even though this is the very first time Fadel actually engages in Style's friendly banter and amiable conversation instead of ignoring him or yelling at him or telling him to piss off, at the beginning of the conversation Style doesn't have Fadel quite just yet. Actually, no. That's not accurate. Style is being genuine, has been genuine all episode already and so he does reach Fadel in the beginning of their conversation. Fadel is finally engaging, is finally getting involved. But then Style loses him again at a certain point. And it's specifically when he says:

But isn't it better to have someone like me with you?

Up until this very point, Fadel was mostly turned towards Style. He's smiled, he's laughed, he's rolled his eyes in amusement and he's actively taken part in Style's conversation. He's been more open with Style than he's ever been before. But now? He stares at Style for a moment, then turns away from him, closing himself off from Style again.

And it's interesting that this is happening at this specific point, because their entire conversation has mostly surrounded sex (adjacent) things and physical attraction. They literally start this conversation referencing their hook-up from right before, Style calls Fadel sexy, and then alludes that he wants to sleep with him again. And I think by the time Style says "I know you can [jerk off] by yourself. But isn’t it better to have someone like me with you?" Fadel is at a point where he's like Oh, so you only want to be my boyfriend just so you can do me again, huh? So this is all I am to you, huh?

Fadel isn't cool with that and so he starts to shut himself off from Style again. Style is rejected again. Style turns his head away from Fadel, sighs, raises his eyebrows, and I think he realizes (at least subconsciously) what Fadel is unhappy about, because the next thing he says the moment he's turned back to Fadel is:

What you said to me just now... I feel the same way.

And again, he's being sincere. His voice is calm and grounded, there's not a single trace of his dramatic antics. And that line and coupled with that sincerity has Fadel listening up again:

"Be my boyfriend," Style says and Fadel listens even more closely. "Give me a chance," Style says and Fadel looks away, laughs, and replies "You don’t even know me". Fadel's words are a challenge, but this time there is no malice, no anger, no annoyance in his voice. His voice is soft. Fadel poses a challenge, but it's not an invitation to fight. Or rather, it is an invitation to fight, but it's a very different fight from before. And Style is only happy to take up said challenge: "And what about it? I’ll learn more about you when you’re my boyfriend."

And for what he says next, I'd love to share a more literal translation with you again. In the English subs Style talks about being 100% in and it being Fadel's turn to let him in, which, yeah, it's the gist of it. However, in Thai he uses the word เปิดใจ [bpèrt jai] again, which I've already talked about in my ep3 meta because Style has used that word before during that scene where Fadel hands him the burger. The day after posting that meta, I actually asked my Thai teacher about this word in class (and nearly died in the process) because I hadn't discussed this word with a native speaker for my meta and while I had discussed this word with my Thai language learning buddy after he brought it up when I was trying to explain the German phrase "sich einlassen auf" (@ German speakers: เปิดใจ is very similar to that!), I just couldn't remember it well and wanted to double check just in case. According to my teacher, it's a word that is used to talk about opening up to something or about giving things a chance, but the literal translation is "to open one's heart" (เปิด [bpèrt] = to open / ใจ [jai] = heart, mind) and I think the series makes use of that literal meaning for a nice metaphor/image here. I think Style's choice of words is very deliberate:

I've opened my heart to you 100% already. กูเปิดใจให้มึงร้อยเปอร์เซนต์แล้วนะ [guu - bpèrt-jai - hâi - mueng - rói - bper-sen - láew - ná] I - open up (one's heart) - for, to - you - 100 - percent - already - [particle]

Only you remain. เหลือแค่มึงอ่ะ [lĕuua - kâe - mueng - àh] remain, left - only - you - [particle]

How much will you open your heart to me? จะเปิดใจให้กูมากแค่ไหน [jà - bpèrt-jai - hâi - guu - mâak kâe năi] will - open up (one's heart) - to, for - I/me - how much

Fadel, who has enclosed his heart in thick, high walls, is being asked how many doors leading up to it he is willing to open. Style subtly reminds Fadel that a relationship consists of two people, but leaves the decision of just how close Fadel will let Style get to his heart entirely up to Fadel. Because that's Fadel's choice to make.

While Style is talking, Fadel is listening intently, really taking in Style's words and contemplating them:

He's quiet for a moment after Style is done telling him You have full access to my heart now. I'm willing to give you a chance. I've done my part. The choice is on you now. Will you grant me access to your heart, too? Will you give me a chance as well?

Fadel thinks about it for a bit more, then laughs a small laugh, throws his head back, and goes "Yeah. Fine." Style is confused. Fadel then explicitly agrees to be his boyfriend. Style's eyes widen. He can't believe his ears. He has to ask for confirmation, has to make sure he really heard it right:

We're boyfriends, right? เป็นแฟนกันใช่มั้ย [bpen - faen - gan - châi mái] be - boyfriend, girlfriend - each other, together - right?

Fadel confirms. Style is absolutely over the moon and showers Fadel in kisses.

Do I think they're already in love? Not exactly. Unfortunately, I just don't have the time to look at Fadel as closely as I have been looking at Style (I need 48h days fr 😭😭) but when it comes to Style, I think even if he's not in love just yet, this is the start of something real. We saw in episode 3 that he was starting to develop positive feelings towards Fadel, was starting to genuinely have a good time hanging around Fadel, but he still had ulterior motives in the foreground of his mind. I think when he hooked up with Fadel in the storage room that kicked off something within him because, as I've made very clear in my ep3 meta, to Style sex isn't just sex. Because if it was, his journey this episode would have been going very differently. But throughout this entire episode Style has cared, he has cared so much to the point he's gotten really hurt. And his joy when Fadel agrees to be his boyfriend? That's real. And I don't think it's because he's about to receive the car of his dreams as a reward. If it was, I think Style would have been much more smug about Fadel agreeing to be his boyfriend, would have been much more self-satisfied underneath all that happiness. But Style's joy here is pure. And he doesn't brag about finally "winning" Fadel over, doesn't hold it over his head in a smug HAH, you gave in to me, I'm the one who won our battle of wills, look how cool I am sort of way. Style's joy is real, but what he's feeling is not quite love at this point. But so what if they're not in love just yet? Like Style said: They can get to know each other fall in love when they're boyfriends.

No. 8: Apollo's Ball Of Prophecy Is Real

Remember how a couple of paragraphs ago I said the car was just an afterthought, that Style would still get to? Well, he's getting to it now. He shows up at Kant's place and "When should I come and get your car?" is the first thing out of his mouth right after his hellos. Kant reminds Style of their deal and asks if Fadel has agreed to be Style's boyfriend. Style says "yes", shining brightly as the sun as he says this. And the way he shines while dropping this info to Kant makes me once again think that his happiness here is more focused on Fadel rather than the car. Style is a little smug now, but it's mostly before Kant mentions the words "Fadel" and "faen" together in one single sentence (yes, I had to go with the Thai word for boyfriend just for the alliteration lol). When Style says yes, Fadel is in fact his boyfriend now, the subtext I'm hearing is not something along the lines of Yeah, I finally got him, so where's my beloved car at, bro, we had a deal???? but what I'm hearing is more like Yes!! He is!! Can you believe!! Fadel is my BOYFRIEND!! Omg!! I did it!! Just like we'll see in the flashback to the "be my boyfriend" scene right after, there is something rather pure about Style's complete and utter joy at the thought of Fadel being his boyfriend.

Style relays the "be my boyfriend" conversation to Kant and it's only after that that Style really starts bragging: "Your best friend is a genius, isn’t he? I told you I can get anyone." And yeah, undeniably this is about the fact that he's getting a car out of it, but I also think that he would have bragged about it even if the deal with the car didn't exist. Kant and Style seem to have the sort of friendship where they always brag to each other about their love lives. We were shown this in episode 1 when Kant goes to see Style at the garage and Style immediately asks for the tea on his night with Bison, pretty much begging Kant to brag about it when Kant tries to change the topic to something else. Style would have bragged about Fadel to Kant no matter what. Besides, why wouldn't he go get the car, despite actual feelings being involved now? A deal is a deal, and if he can get the car of his dreams and the boyfriend of his dreams out of it, that's even better. Best of both worlds. Who wouldn't say no to that?

But Style's happiness gets smacked right out of him via Apollo's ball of prophecy as he learns that he should really be very careful what he jokes about. He almost spoke Fadel taking him out to the woods to kill him into existence. Fadel is a hitman. Style's panic gets the better of him. He has seen, felt on his own body even what Fadel is capable of. He doesn't like Fadel that much yet, so he's outta there before he gets to experience first hand the real depths of what Fadel can be capable of if Style gets too annoying. Car be damned. Style may be unhinged but he isn't suicidal.

Kant, however, manages to talk Style into helping him and staying with Fadel anyway. Now, you could say Style is unhinged for agreeing to help Kant instead of firmly refusing his request and getting out of this mess before it gets worse, but I think in that moment Style is genuinely afraid that Fadel WILL kill him if Style breaks up with him, breaks his heart right after Fadel has finally, finally given him closer access to it. And Style has had to work very hard for said access, so he knows very well how big that decision was for Fadel to entrust Style with just a little bit of his heart. And if Style then goes and breaks that little bit of Fadel's heart that he was given in the very next moment? That's a death sentence on Style's head right there.

And another reason why I think Style agrees to continue working for Kant's mission is that Style likes to help. I've already touched on this in my ep3 meta:

Style likes to help. We see this in the way he agrees to help his best friend by hitting on some weirdo guy (yes, of course he's also getting a car out of this deal, but I think part of the reason why he agrees to the deal is also because he genuinely wants to help Kant find love), we see this in the way he immediately takes orders from customers no questions asked in episode 2 right before he meets Bison, and we'll see this even later this episode [ep3] when he throws himself into the fight despite having no fighting skills whatsoever, just because he thinks three against one is unfair and wants to help.

Helping people is something that comes easy to Style, something he doesn't really have to think about, and so when Kant practically begs him to help Style can't do anything but agree to help Kant because not helping would go entirely against the nature of his character. Also, who could resist First's puppy eyes? Valid, absolutely valid. I, too, would fold like thin paper if First looked at me like That.

No. 9: Over Your Limit

Style is at the gym, probably in an attempt to work off some of the overwhelming emotions that Kant's reveal has left him with. What's interesting is, as @secriden noted, that Style decided to go there during daytime. From episode 2, both we, the audience, as well as Style know that Fadel likes to go to the gym at night specifically to avoid crowds. It's probably safe to assume that Style went there during the day specifically in order to avoid Fadel.

So Style sits there, lost in his memories, recontextualizing everything that happened at the greenhouse, processing Kant's news, rethinking his decision. Unfortunately for him, he's already made his choice the moment he agreed to help Kant, and so in the end Style goes Fuck it, I'm doing this.

Unexpectedly, Fadel shows up. Style hadn't been mentally prepared for that and despite his fuck it attitude just mere seconds ago (17, to be exact), his instincts kick in and he panics. Everything within him is screaming at him get away from this man, your life is in danger and so Style immediately rejects Fadel's offer for help: "I can’t do it anyway. I was pushing my limits."

Style is pushing his limits. Hitting on a guy? Sure, that's fine. Making him his boyfriend, despite said guy having walls as thick as the Great Wall of China? A little challenge, but nothing Style can't handle. But dating someone who is a professional killer, someone who is capable of taking lives and might very well be capable of taking his own boyfriend's life if need may be? That really is pushing any limit Style could ever have even as much as dreamed of. He can't do it.

But despite every instinct within Style telling him to run away, Style doesn't, because that would be suspicious and Style can't risk Fadel getting suspicious because that would seal his deathly fate even quicker. So Style hesitantly leans back and lets Fadel help him. And here at this point, I just wanna give a little shout out to Style raising his eyebrows and sighing a little after they're done, like whew, I survived that, I'm still alive, because it makes me giggle:

When Fadel alludes to wanting to have sex, Style plays dumb. Style has used this strategy before when he wanted to find out the connection between Fadel and the host club, but where in ep3 Style was playing dumb in order to gain Fadel's trust, here at the gym Style is playing dumb in order to delay having to get close to Fadel again (much less sleeping with him) while he figures out a way to get out of it. When Fadel cuddles up to him, it's the last straw. Style's panic takes over for good and he makes an escape. But then Fadel calls out to him, asking him to wait. Shit. Style's fight for his life is not yet over. Style stops, trying not to be suspicious or to do anything else that would give Fadel a motive to kill him.

Fadel walks up to him and wipes the sweat of his face. Where before Fadel's touch has recently been making Style feel good, it now feels very threatening instead. Yet, at the same time it's also a kind and caring gesture, which is something that isn't lost on Style.

Style very much notices the care in Fadel's action, but his new perspective on Fadel makes it hard for him to embrace and appreciate the kindness of it. And the kindness and care also contradicts the image of the ruthless killer Style now has in his mind of Fadel. These two contrasting aspects simply do not go together. Unable to cope, Style runs off.

The Attempt of a Conclusion

Where Style had just a little bit of a problem at the beginning of the episode, by the end of it that problem has grown much larger than he could have ever anticipated. Over the course of episode 3 we saw that Style was slowly starting to develop some positive feelings for Fadel, was slowly starting to actively enjoy hanging out around him, was starting to get curious about Fadel of his own accord and not for motives connected to the deal. Yet, the deal was still very much always there. In episode 4, however? Style might not have entirely realized it yet, but that deal is no longer relevant to him. Not showing up to the morning jogging or at the market might still have been a planned strategy in the mission Kant gave him, but that mission goes right out the window the moment he hears that Fadel had asked about him. When Style goes running to Fadel the second he is told that Fadel had asked about him when actually Style could and probably should have played his game a little longer, really letting Fadel stew, from that moment onward it's all about Style's own feelings rather than the car. And everything he does this episode is led by those feelings. Over the course of this episode we see that Style has genuinely started to like Fadel. And he had to. He had to start liking Fadel before learning about Fadel's real job. Because the higher you are, the further you fall and Style accidentally having caught feelings makes the drop down worse, for both Style, the character as well as us, the audience. Style genuinely likes Fadel now, and if that wasn't enough of a problem already, the man he likes turns out to be a professional killer.

Crap, indeed.

[yes-these-obsessions-are-healthy]

Guess the show unintentionally illustrates the “Marginalized to Cop” pipeline is a real phenomenon that people don’t want to talk about.

It’s funny how Vi mirrors Vander. Both come from deprived backgrounds and have personally experienced violence at the hands of the police but instead of fighting back their righteous anger ultimately fizzles out and they just appease them.

In this case, Vi’s lesbianism overrode her class consciousness. Literally sold out her people for bourgeois pussy. Girlfriended up and out of the slums. Saved her own skin.

A properly written script would’ve had Vi posed as the “obvious choice”, with her head on sort of straight, her physical prowess, and her Big Sis-ness making her seem like the best for Zaun, but in fact was as just as much a dithering detriment to any sort of change as Vander; and then you have Jinx, despite her seemingly unpredictable anarchistic bent that Silco originally tried to channel for his schemes, despite her seemingly self-occupied and chaotic behavior, actually in effect does more for Zaun because she never forgets who the real enemy is and never lets Piltover feel as if they’re entirely in control of the Undercity.

But no, the writers, whether out of liberal stupidity or commanded by the people on high, cannot portray and examine actual class struggle in all of its detailed realism.

what’s really nasty about the caitvi situation in s2 is that vi is written almost explicitly for the sake of the ship and nothing else. why tf would caitlyn (who she’s known for two months or something) hitting her be her breaking point? “omigod you don’t get it caitlyn was all she had left” lmao ekko was still there and jinx had just come back. also, this is the same character that literally saw her brothers and father die horribly and spent the rest of her childhood trying not to die in a cell because her only thought was getting back to her sister like that’s what kept her alive. and you expect me to believe that when jinx tweaks out she wouldn’t go back to her because of some micro expression from the animators (but somehow vi would go back for warwick and just as easily accept and forgive caitlyn). like let me get this straight: JINX KILLING COUNCILMEN THAT WERE RESPONSIBLE FOR ZAUN’S SUFFERING WAS LESS FORGIVABLE TO VI THAN CAITLYN GASSING UP HER PEOPLE AND ENACTING MONTHS OF MARTIAL LAW 😭😭😭 like y’all genuinely believe and want this power of love bullshit instead of actual masterclass storytelling y’all want another endgame fan service flick 😭😭😭 like even when she had Ambessa on lock she didn’t even kill her she just quipped 😭😭😭 not my vi but y’all be easy 🙌🏾

[emblemxeno]

This brings up a question I've always had why DO so many people call Edelgard a revolutionary what am I missing? She's point for point like all politicians who claim it's for the good of the country and go back to how things were when it's just an excuse. Like I don't like bringing real world stuff into this but Israel and Netenyahu? Russia and Putin? Make America great again and Trump? They all use the exact same tactics calling the other side the enemy it's all by strength alone (please ignore the system you just aren't strong enough listen to me I'll save you from the evil scapegoat I'm telling you about), using only people close to them to put into positions of power, it's honestly shocking people are blind to this??? Then again they seem to think the church is just like our church when they're barely alike so idk

We really failed as a fandom tbh.

When the game presents an imperialist autocrat pretending to be (and believing she is) a revolutionary and who sides with terrorists who committed a genocide without much pushback beyond insults until she gets what she wants because, to her and her jackass evil butler, their useful power outweighs being fucking evil and making things terrible.

And a significant portion of the audience says "yes actually, she's a revolutionary who wants to bring change and everyone who's against her wants to maintain a toxic status quo, especially the genocide victim whose warnings and instructions were ignored by humanity."

Despite the fact that, for as much as she claims she's future focused, she fucking venerates the past to an insane degree. She thinks things were better when the other countries didn't exist; she believes things are better when one person on the imperial throne gets to call the shots with no checks on that power (like, just because it's not an inherited position anymore, doesn't mean it's good, since the subjects still don't have a voice); she compliments a past when merit and strength (concepts that are just as brittle and easily taken advantage of as birth status) were what got people high positions without consideration of those below the shot-caller; she thinks things were better when Nabateans had no ability to participate in how things operate-in their own birthplace mind you-because she doesn't view them as beings capable of emotion, logic, or rationality.

Edelgard is a rough textbook example of the evils of modern conservatism, wanting to return to an inequitable and oppressive power structure of the past that shut the majority out while claiming "oh just be better at your job, you whiner." And no amount of her feeling "uwu sad" about her actions changes the fact that she's still doing them.

[exhelluvafan]

As someone who’s dad cheated on their mom multiple tomes and even was out making out with other women while my mom was birthing me all alone in the hospital, I fucking hate how the fandom is villainizing Octavia rn. I’ve seen people say she deserves to be physically abused by Stella just for telling her dad off and it makes me sick. This is how people are treating teens who are tired of their parents’ lies and tired of being hurt by them? Honestly, disgusting. I hope nobody in similar situations gets treated like this, its so dehumanizing. Just like in real life, I get told its somehow my fault my dad went off and cheated, or that I should still keep in contact with him despite the fact he was never there for me. Disgusting. Disappointed.

First of all, I'm so sorry to hear all that, Anon, I hope you're doing just fine as of today and managed to get away from that piece of shit.

Now, I'm sadly going to admit that I, along with almost all the critical community, surely was seeing this hate coming, ever since the Octavia song and Sinsmas's section featuring Octavia and Stolas got leaked, we KNEW that the standom would explode, but despite that and no matter how mentally ready I got for it, it was still a blow because I wasn't expecting people to actually fall that low, but it seems that having any expectations of decency over this fandom is a waste of time and energy in the end.

Still, if you need any advice, Anon... Run, run away from that fandom, these shows and Viv, block any stans and fans who are unapologetically victimblaming Octavia, don't tolerate their bullshit and cut the problem straight from the root, because this shit can genuinely get triggering if you are exposed to it for too long and these people clearly won't change or apologize for saying that shit, so please, feel free to curate your feed and block all those sheltered idiots with horrible takes, because this won't get any better since Viv will keep feeding her toxic fandom to stay in their worst behaviors, so please do not look back and do not feel bad for blocking any of those dumbasses.

[naffeclipse]

Hey babe. I have been rereading your fic In Song Fish Amid the Stars. And ofcource I love Eclipse our little soft baby. But I have to say I love your world building. What I enjoyed especially was Y/n's relationship with Gregory. Not only I wholly loved his character and interpretation (how he grew up to be this kinda loner mechanic that had to have surfer cut) but also his dynamic with the main character! The fact that they were practically like siblings to each other always having each other's back. Even a small mention of their domestic moments (lending books, having meals togehter) melted my heart. And whenever I read this fic and come to the part of Y/n's disappearance from the boat, like damn. I can't imagine the despair Gregory felt, the desperate search that has no limits and ending in sight. After all the ocean is endless. The same goes for the relief when he found put y/ns home. So i have a question. Can we have insight into his point of view? His thoughts, his actions, what did he tell Freddy? How did he feel sailing back home without them? Was he falling apart thinking that his sibling is dead? Killed by the very thing they always feared? The thing he made them scared of (at least in his eyes).

Sorry for rant haha

I just live family fluff and their relationship is perfect.

Kisses

Ahhh, I'm rattling you! Thank you so much! I'm really glad you enjoy Gregory in SFATS!! He was very fun to write <3

Gregory was the one to discover Y/N's empty room on the ship, and his gut told him something was wrong. Not only were you not in bed, but you weren't sick in the bathroom or even hiding out somewhere to stop feeling the stormy waves. It didn't take long for him to confirm from a shiphand that you were missing—overboard.

And you've never swam in the ocean before.

All he could do at that moment was beg Freddy to start searching the sea. There wasn't time for guilt that first day. Once the big ship returned to the island, Gregory threw himself onto his boat and darted out to join the search with the leviathan.

He kept telling himself over and over that if anyone could find Y/N, it would be Freddy. The leviathan mer is magical, powerful, and big. Freddy can fix this. Gregory lost the parents he never knew, and now he was going to lose the only real human family he had, and he knew you. He has to give you back your old book he borrowed from you. You have to take it back.

But as the hours wanned on and Gregory tirelessly tread deeper and deeper waters, dread and fear began sinking their teeth into him. Freddy was very calm but concerned, the anchor to Gregory's storm. The fatherly mer kept Gregory going with hope despite the infinitely terrible chances.

Gregory was aware of Sun and Moon out in the sea due to a combination of Freddy spying the two colossal fish once or twice in the depths, and your own suspicious behavior, but they never once crossed his mind until he finally returned and caught news of your miraculous survival.

You're alive. He thought you looked like a wet, sopping cat who just barely survived drowning. You kind of were.

That's when the guilt returned to him in full force, and it almost bowled him over. He had to confess right then and there that he never should have forced you onto that boat. He thought he was helping. He thought he could make you less afraid but all he did was nearly get you killed.

You and Freddy told him in the same breath that it wasn't your fault.

But then you kept talking. Or rather, you kept avoiding an answer to his question: how you got back to the island in one piece. Freddy suggested so quietly within Gregory's mind that perhaps your mers are to be thanked for the rescue. Your mers.

And he thought you were a big ol' scared cat. You have a giant mer, well, two, just like him.

[ice-cap-k]

So... Unstable Universe Parrot. I've got thoughts I want to get off my chest about his character, so I'm here to ramble about it.

Parrot kind of drives me crazy. I know I'm not the only one upset by some of his choices throughout the series. But something kind of dawned on me that put the guy in a new light.

Spoilers ahead. Tldr at the end.

Parrot's regularly proven himself to be a hypocrite, what with telling Wemmbu off about how stealing is wrong and you shouldn't stoop to your enemy's levels, only to immediately turn around and talk about stealing from Reddoons the next video later BEFORE he even realized there was anything wrong with Red or Capitol City's way of business. Then there's the blatant killing off of Dean and Wifies' pets while arguing it's fine for him to have an allay just to make it super obvious that, yes, he is a hypocrite.

Then there's the entire mess with Wifies during their fight. They "broke up," sure. Parrot ran away despite Wifies begging him to come back and then later accused Wifies of being the one to leave. Wifies has since apologized profusely and no longer made any attempt to argue with Parrot on the matter of his own safety because he fears Parrot will leave again. Parrot has not yet apologized as of the time I am writing this. Wifies may have overstepped by burning the compass, but Parrot refused to hear him out on a very real concern that Parrot is throwing himself into danger, and Wifies just doesn't want to lose him. Considering Parrot's hero complex, as shown by repeatedly jumping into fights that aren't necessarily his with little to no regard for personal safety, this is a very real risk.

And, you know, also hypocritical on Parrot's behalf for refusing to listen when he himself has expressed one-sided concern for Wifies' well-being during the entire confrontation with Clown. A scenario where Parrot literally refused to let Wifies help despite Wifies wanting to because he did not want to risk Wifies safety.

I think Parrot was telling the truth. He doesn't understand.

And that, when I really thought about it with this last episode, is kind of fascinating. Even when Parrot has lived through an exact scenario beforehand where he felt the desire to keep someone he cared about safe, he refused to listen when the situation was reversed. In fact, Parrot said his usual "I don't understand" multiple times after Wifies burned the compass and explained he wanted to keep Parrot safe.

He doesn't understand, despite having been in a very similar situation before.

The more I thought about Parrot's actions throughout the entirety of Unstable Universe, the more I realize that Parrot doesn't seem to experience empathy. At all.

He feels sympathy. He feels bad for the people forced to mine for ores to line Capitol City's koffers. He feels bad for Wifies being chunk banned and missed him dearly because he does care about him. He felt bad for Dean's predicament with the mafia and took him under his wing. He has a strong sense of justice. He helps people. He knows what's wrong and fights for what is right. In fact, Parrot is an objectably good guy. But he can't put himself in someone elses place. And when he does end up in the other person's shoes, he can't handle it.

Just look at how freaked out he was over Clown saying they were a lot alike. Something that had a profound impact on one, possibly more videos. Let's ignore the moral high ground Parrot tried to scrape together at the end that was absolutely unjustified and focus on Parrot's actions after Clown said that for the moment. Even after getting Wifies back from the threat of Clown almost killing his friend, Parrot STILL wanted to go after Branzy again despite very clearly seeing what that kind of a hostage situation would lead to. Even after experiencing the same threat to a loved one that he was trying to hold over Clown's head, Parrot could not make the connection that Clown may feel the same. That history would just repeat itself.

Heck, he doesn't even care that he's planning on dragging into a war a bunch of innocents who had only been trying to escape the mafia when he went to the Farlands. Despite the fact that he had his own civilization already taken over by the mafia.

Parrot has his hero complex and acts narcissistic and hypocritical because he can not make the emotional connection between his own feelings and others.

I'm no psychologist, but he strikes me as someone with Empathy Deficiency Disorder. People with this disorder tend to criticize or blame others without understanding where they are coming from, don't take responsibility for their own actions, have little to no patience, rarely show any appreciation for others, and regularly put themselves first and foremost.

Sound familier?

You could probably consider someone like Jack Sparrow from Pirates of the Caribbean as someone with something similar to this disorder. That or more of a narcissistic disorder, but those tend to go hand in hand.

I don't know if this was the content creator's intention as he wrote up his character, but it certainly helped me put Parrot's actions into perspective. It's really cool to think about watching a character go through the hero's journey without something as basic as empathy. While it's too early to tell, the only other character that might come close to such low empathy is Ash, who is literally the big bad. Then again, we see so little of Ash and his spoken word makes him an unreliable narrator regarding his own goings-ons. Not even Clown, who we've seen has plenty in common with Parrot. Clown experiences empathy, because he knew how upset Parrot would be if Wifies was threatened. Just as upset as Clown would be if Branzy was threatened.

Parrot has changed a lot as a character through the series, but his ability to empathize has remained static. I imagine at the true climax of the story whenever that may be that Parrot will somehow come to understand that other people can and do feel the same. And I'd like to say that will be a satisfying moment, but who knows what it might take to reach that point. A lot has been lost already.

(Tldr: I think Parrot's character has Empathy Deficiency Disorder and that's why he does the most frustrating, seemingly selfish things.)

[inbarfink]

Early TF2 Lore Bits that I’ve seen people claim that are contradictory to the central revelations of “The Days Have Worn Away” ranked according to how contradictory I personally think they actually are

1 - The Administrator's Senate’s Hearing

Not contradictory at all! I I think actually fits extremely well with “The Days Have Worn Away”!

Sure, the blanked-out explanation and the senators’ reactions for it are bound to make one think the Administrator has some grand conspiracy, but these reactions actually make just as much sense if what she said was like “yeah I’m gathering Australium to keep myself alive far beyond the natural human lifespan and also to maintain the Australium-powdered resurrected zombie of Zepheniah Mann who I am eternally torturing by Clockwork Orange-ing him into witnessing his sons disappoint him and disgrace the Mann legacy by squabbling using the most incompetent and destructive mercenaries I could find so that he would always know that I bested him”.

They’re shocked and appalled at the cruel pettiness of it all, rather than because it’s a grand and sinister conspiracy. And the fact that the obstruction of information creates an implication that this plan must be incomprehensibly grandiose actually plays into how Miss Pauling was totally in the dark about the Administrator’s motive and therefore assumed she must’ve been planning something Big. If anything, this hearing is one of the things that does makes me think the whole thing was planned way ahead in advance. 

2 - Zepheniah Mann’s Ghost’s presence in Scream Fortress

I think this is technically not actually contradictory to the Administrator keeping his body alive for all this time!

Considering The Days Have Worn Away’s Zepheniah seems to be basically catatonic and the difference between his resurrection and the Administrator’s (she was brought back almost immediately, while he was already rotting in the ground for a while), it’s not implausible to assume the Administrator basically brought back a biologically-functioning but empty shell while Zepheniah’s actual spirit moved on to the afterlife - making her revenge even more pointless.

However,  the idea was not directly brought up in the actual text of the comic despite the thematic resonance. So even if there aren’t any real serious inconsistencies that can't be explained away, it also doesn’t feel fully intentional and pre-planned. 

Not to mention the Administrator was also Administrating maps that included Zepheniah’s ghostly presence, and the idea of her being actually aware that she wasn’t tormenting the ‘real’ Zepheniah but just a mindless corpse does not make any sense to me.

3 - That guy in the middle of the Mann Family Photograph -

??????????? maybe it was a smidge on the camera??????? or something????????????? I dunno????????????????????? 

4 - Horseless Headless Horsemann AKA Silas Mann

WHO ARE YOU???!

[otomiyaa]

Day 8: Memories

Kavetham | 12 days of tickles🎄

Word Count: 1K

Good thing they were at home. Good thing they were alone. Yes, all good. But also… what the hell!!!!! 

“Alhaitham. You have to drink this.” 

It was pretty hard to force him to drink water. Alhaitham sat in a funny position at the dinner table. He had already burped and hiccupped in the most uncharacteristic ways possible, and now Kaveh was afraid that if he didn’t get him to sober up soon, he was going to barf all over the table and floor and he really did not feel like cleaning that up.

“At least let me drag you to bed then,” Kaveh said, but Alhaitham was glued to his seat, his body heavy as he refused to get up.

Facts were facts. Alhaitham was drunk. It wasn't a common thing, nor was it a first time experience. But still, it definitely would fit in the ultra rare category, and Kaveh was too busy worrying to feel honored.

If only Aether had warned them properly about the special liquor he brought from Fontaine. It had a light taste but a strong effect.

Kaveh's glass was still pretty full, but Alhaitham had already emptied his own as if it were water, leaving Kaveh with the messy results. If Kaveh had been faster, this would've been very different. Then they would've been drunk together. Maybe that would be better. More fun.

Instead he now felt responsible for keeping the situation under control. "Come. To bed we go," Kaveh finally said when he failed again to let him drink some water.

Alhaitham swayed a little as he was helped on his feet. So heavy. Kaveh tried to support his heavy body while he guided him to bed. If he was in bed, it would no longer be his problem. But it was never going to be that easy.

"Bed...." Alhaitham howled. That did get a snort-laugh out of Kaveh, but he was soon back in stress-mode when Alhaitham tripped and dragged Kaveh to the floor in a gracious fall.

"Alhaitham, geez!" Kaveh whined, ending up on the floor with... He blushed. Alhaitham pinning him down.

With a funny hazy look in his eyes, Alhaitham towered over him, and Kaveh's concern that his lover was going to throw up all over his face was quickly forgotten when Alhaitham said the most unexpected thing.

"........Remember when I first tickled you...?"

Kaveh frowned. "What?"

Alhaitham wiggled his fingers above him, confirming Kaveh did in fact hear correctly.

"N-no. I don't. Get up, Alhaitham. You need to go to bed. You're drunk," Kaveh reminded him, but Alhaitham didn't budge. Then without warning he started to tickle Kaveh's sides.

"......Went like this?" he muttered dreamily.

Kaveh yelped and tried to catch Alhaitham's hands, but damn he was fast!

"N-nohoho I doubt ihiihit! Get ohohoff mehehe!" He had thought the situation couldn't get any crazier, but it did. Drunk Alhaitham was pinning him down and tickling him, on the floor. And Kaveh, despite being the sober one, couldn't do a thing about it except laugh like an idiot.

Still attacking him with merciless tickles, Alhaitham leaned in and kissed Kaveh's neck.

"I tickled you.... here...." Alhaitham murmured in his ear while his fingers pressed into some of Kaveh's worst spots.

What was he getting all randomly nostalgic for! Kaveh did not remember Alhaitham tickling him the first time, definitely not like this, and he doubted these memories Alhaitham was recollecting were any real.

"You're beheheing rihidiculous! Stohohop!"

"You were so... ticklish here..." Alhaitham's fingers managed to sneak under Kaveh's shirt and grazed against the bare skin of his tummy.

"Dohohon't!" Kaveh cackled. He bucked wildly and tried to get his drunk boyfriend to stop tickling him, but Alhaitham was too busy bringing up memories and tickling him silly, and Kaveh was too ticklish to be able to handle it in any dignified way.

"Ahahalhaitham! I'm wahaharning you!"

Sober Alhaitham tickled him plenty and would rarely grant him mercy if he begged like this, so of course drunk Alhaitham cared even less.

"You said.... it tickled...." he spoke in a funny voice while continuing the merciless attack.

"Ohohobviously I would! Stohohop!" Kaveh curled up and tried to kick and swat at Alhaitham's grabby hands, but despite being drunk, he was as strong and persistent as ever.

"I wanted to tickle you.... forever...." Alhaitham's breath felt hot on Kaveh's ear as he continued to mumble these words, alternated with ticklish kisses and nibbles.

"These cahahan't be real mehemories! Stop thihis!" Kaveh cried. He arched his back when Alhaitham's wiggling fingers reached his underarms, and he shrieked uncharmingly.

"NOT THEHERE!" he warned. Alhaitham was going to pay for this, and the Traveler too!

It tickled so bad Kaveh thought he would pass out. But in the end one of them did pass out and it wasn't him.

"....A-Ahal-Alhaitham?" he asked breathlessly when suddenly the weight on top of him got even heavier. The tickling stopped too, giving him a moment to catch his breath.

It was obvious that Alhaitham had passed out on top of him, and with some difficulty, Kaveh managed to push him off.

"You - are - unbelievable," he sighed. For a moment he tried to lift him off the floor, but Alhaitham made it so difficult that he ended up moving some blankets and pillows to him instead.

"Sleep here then," Kaveh said with a blush. He hesitated for a moment, then he positioned himself right next to him.

"........Remember...."

Kaveh's eyes went wide open when he heard Alhaitham's sudden drunk sleep-talk. He quickly covered himself up.

"No, I don't remember. Don't you dare bring up tickling agai-NOHO Alhaitham I sahaid nohoho!"

Whatever the alcohol had done to Alhaitham's head was a mystery, but it sure rattled with his memories and turned him into the worst tickle monster ever. It was Kaveh's very own fault to choose to sleep with the tickle monster.

"Let go ohohoff meeee!" he howled, but it was definitely going to be a long night!

[nnnn99999]

This post highlights the difference between the two couples so well.

KantBison's relationship is so sweet and lovely and cute and exactly how you would expect a stable and strong relationship to proceed. With both of them being so kind and respectful and sweet and caring to each other. Yet, this relationship is doomed to fail. Because none of it is real. Both Kant and Bison are lying. They are lying to everyone else, they are lying to eaxh other and they are lying to themselves. Both of them have built this pretty little house but it's made of paper. A little wind or a little rain and the house is gone. Completely gone. There is no foundation to build on. No trust and no honesty to support the the love they are starting to feel for each other. So for KantBison to work out, they need to destroy their current relationship. They need to break down everything so that they can start anew and build something real and strong. And they can do it, because despite all the lies and deception and manipulation they have going on between them, they are starting to fall in love. And this love can push them to make the effort and bear the hurt so that they can start over after everything comes crashing down.

FadelStyle conversely are painfully honest with each other. Sure they are hiding things from each other, but they are making it very obvious that they are in fact hiding things from each other. They have such a solid foundation of honesty. Unlike KantBison, there are no grand promises or declarations of love and commitment between them. And yet, they with their crude little mud hut have a much more solid foundation, one that can withstand the wind and rain, and one that can be slowly built upon and strengthened as time goes by.

Quick personal observation/interpretation of each BOYFRIEND in ep 5 because I’m absolutely floored by how well the actors managed to emphasize their differences.

Jojo the talented man that you are… it takes so much skill to highlight different dynamics while the couples are still stuck in that gray zone full of secrets, trauma and lies.

- Kant vs. Style: Style in this episode was everything I wished to see. I was a little skeptical about how he was going to act around Fadel after learning the truth. Is he going to be scared? Is he going to act like Kant and be all lovey dovey while avoiding any dangerous topic that might make him look suspicious? Is he going to put a mask on too and come across as oblivious and innocent? NOOOOO. He was a stark opposite of Kant and that’s exact what I wanted. Not because I don’t like Kant or anything but I just wanted that refreshing contrast between them.

Kant has opted for the lover boy disguise since ep 1. Charming, down to earth, normal, unproblematic, gentlemanly, pliant. He wanted to appear innocent too but when Bison learned about his criminal past he couldn’t keep up that lie for too long. So he turned that innocence into redemption. A thief became a hero, an avoidant guy with commitment issues became devoted and loyal. A man seeking redemption and a regular relationship with a cute, pretty and ordinary waiter. That’s how he wanted to get close to Bison as a way to avoid raising suspicion, to steer clear of any danger that comes with this hitman. SAFETY came first In his book and he was smart enough to figure out that Bison needed exactly that: a new standard life and to forget who he is.

Style on the hand… many of us had suspected that his curiosity and growing feelings would overrun his fear of Fadel. Style is smart but he’s also bold, confident, extremely curious, spontaneous and likes risks. But what’s interesting here is that, contrary to Kant, Style is at peace with himself and his emotions. He always allow himself to feel and express those feelings. This, in addition to his curiosity, could explain why he flirted with danger in ep 5. He needed to figure out what he was feeling, he wanted to unravel the mystery around Fadel. While Kant keeps fighting himself and his love for Bison because he’s convinced there’s no other way, Style can’t help himself. While Kant constantly tries to remind himself that Bison is a hitman, Style in ep 5 is digging for Fadel’s humanity, anything that could legitimize his feelings for him or explain why Fadel is the way he is. We see this so clearly with Style’s confessions, raw feelings that caught Kant by surprise and even pushed him, FOR THE FIRST TIME, to admit that he, too, likes Bison. Style’s open attitude and straightforwardness exposed not only Fadel in ep 5 but also Kant (fucking finally).

- Bison vs. Fadel: these two are so different, we knew that since ep 1 and it’s reflected in how they act in a relationship too. It may or may not be because Fadel had experienced betrayal or/and loss in his past relationship.

Bison has a childlike rawness to him that fuels his hope. Sometimes it comes across as naivety, especially during his exchanges with Fadel as the contrast in their personalities brings that out. Bison not only wants a normal and carefree life but he’s high key convinced that it’s achievable for him, despite being an assassin. He’s a little whimsical and likes to forget who he is by putting himself in the shoes of someone ordinary. I think that’s why he’s so drawn to Kant and that’s why Kant acts like a “honorable citizen” (lol James) around him.

You just have to see how their relationship developed compared to Fadel and Style’s. It had a traditional flair to it: the courting, the dates, the handholding and sweet words, the soft tone with which they talk, THE BED (that one took a while for the other two lol). It appealed to Bison because it gave him a sense of fun, safety and normalcy. Unlike Fadel, Bison acts sweet and avoids scaring off Kant, unless his emotions get the better of him. He prefers not carrying that sense of danger and warning sign around him, which would’ve worked if he wasn’t so temperamental.

Fadel on the other hand doesn’t want to forget who he is and is convinced he would never be able to turn over a new leaf. Call me sadistic but I really, really liked how he’s still pushing Style away, even after he agreed to be his boyfriend. The way he’s doing it rn is so sad and beautiful because it’s doubled with this new vulnerability that just… ugh left me feeling all sort of things. I just love how honest he is with Style (minus that ex lover thingy he denied or idk). He doesn’t pretend to be someone he’s not, he doesn’t ignore his reality. I even think he’s loosened his hold on the dangerous aura he carries because in ep 5, he’s very straightforward with Style. Before, he would just act annoyed like a hardass who can handle himself but still avoided raising suspicion. The shift in ep 5 is CRAZY. He told Style on numerous occasions: “look I’m dangerous, you need to leave. I won’t trust you and I can’t give you what you want because I don’t think anyone can love me enough to stay by my side through this.”